"I think that a large number of dim-witted Sith is one of the last things the Empire needs. Please, keep your astute prerequisites for the sake of quality."

Pellaeon is of the opinion that any number of Sith of any intellectual capability is one of the last things the Empire needs. What is Thrawn doing?

Recruiting Sith, or attempting to, anyway.

Though one member of the Sith duo is still rather unconvinced, especially after reading from the 'Rebel' historical entries.

"The ones you call Rebels appear to have set up a functioning, if rather new and untested, government," observes Callida. "Thoughts?"

"It's just barely begun and it's already a hopelessly bloated bureaucratic mess of a governing system. It will collapse, at best, within the century, and the galaxy will fall to anarchy unless a better system steps in."

Callida is tactful enough to not say 'Like the one that blows up planets and enslaves the very people it's supposed to serve?' but she certainly thinks it very loudly.

"What is your command structure like?" she asks, instead. "Military and governing both, unless they're one and the same?"

Pellaeon clears his throat.

"Grand Admiral Thrawn is in overall military command. Civil governance is regional on a sector level, with a Moff in charge of each. There are at present six Grand Moffs, each responsible for several sectors. They form a council that is in law equal in authority to the Admiral." And above that, commanding all of them would be the Emperor except they don't have one of those anymore.

"And in practice?"

Pellaeon looks to Thrawn.

Grand Admiral Thrawn smiles.

"In practice," he says softly, "I am in command."

"How much of a nuisance are the Grand Moffs, and what are their projected opinions of two Sith showing up?"

"They are pragmatic, if occasionally petty. They defer to me because we are at war, and if we are at war, they would prefer that I remain in charge." He glances between Callida and Occlus. "And do you care?"

He seems to find this amusing.

"I try to avoid being in situations where I need to solve all of my problems with gratuitous murder," says Callida, a little tartly. "So if they are likely to try to make a pet of me or come at me with assassination attempts, I would like to know in advance."

"Your bureaucracy is of little interest to me," says Occlus. The unless it gets in my way goes unspoken.

Thrawn nods. "During the conquest of the Rebels, you will be far too useful for anyone to attempt to use you as political pawns. After - well, that would depend on what use you were to the Empire, and what exactly you intend to do."

Occlus arches a brow.

"Any who would attempt to toy with a Sith had best be very sure that their life is not worth more to them than the success of their gambit."

"Granted, but I don't think the Empire is free from fools that misunderstand the nature of actions and their consequences." He shrugs. "I'd inferred that you'd rather I didn't lie to you."

"Indeed not. I am simply returning the favor in kind. I do not expect you to be so foolish as to fall into that particular error."

If I were to try to kill you, Thrawn doesn't say, I would be very certain that I would succeed before I even entertained the notion.

"I endeavor to understand cause and effect," he says, implacably.

"That is good." She smiles briefly, coldly. "We understand each other, then."

He smiles back, just as cold. "Yes, I believe we do."

They would, of course, both calmly cause each other some truly impressive hell if provoked. But they have no reason not to get along. Not, of course, if he can get her apprentice to agree to join the Empire, thus sidestepping the entire reason they would be fighting.

He thinks he's learned enough about her to begin convincing her. That bit about her opinion of the Death Star, combined with her line of questioning and her earlier actions paints a telling, if admittedly incomplete, picture. Pity that there was no way he could quickly learn her taste in art, but he can't always get everything he wants. Sometimes he has to go and acquire it himself.

"Whatever nuisance you think the Grand Moffs might be," he says, looking at Callida. "I invite you to think on the headache that a senate with hundreds of senators would invoke. If the number does not grow to thousands. Each with their own agenda, each with their own opinion, each with their own methodology, fighting and lying and ripping each other to pieces for another few years of status and paycheck." He notes Callida's subtle change in expression, guesses the possible argument, and gently switches tactics. "Perhaps many of them have valuable solutions, but do you think they'd have the commitment to see any of them through? Their voters would grow impatient with a plan that didn't result in anything immediately, and then it would be scrapped before it could be seen to fruition. An imperfect but well-implemented plan is better than several competing attempts at a perfect one that all get exactly nowhere, piling up on top of each other until everyone's tangled in a hopeless web of outdated and impotent laws."

"... Granted. But I haven't seen enough of the system to really judge it for its efficiency, much less condemn it for a lack of it."

"And perhaps it will surprise me," though he highly doubts it, "but do you think they'd let you anywhere near a place where you can ever affect anything?"

"I'm not even sure I would want to. I just got here, I'm hardly in a position to intelligently govern a planet, let alone a galaxy."

"I don't recall mentioning putting you in a position of political power," notes Thrawn, amused. Though if she weren't a Sith Lord, he might be tempted to make her an officer. "By all means, if you think yourself incapable, leave it to someone better equipped. But could you stand to witness the galaxy fall to pieces around you, with no one to listen to any solution you might offer?"