It struck him like a well-polished blade, taking him aghast and leaving him without emotion. He sank slowly to the floor, spasming as his life-fluid's drained out of the large wound. A roar of agony emerged from his twisted maw, unleashing a shockwave upon the surrounding area. The sound of the weapon being reloaded asaulted his ear's, as the mechanism was re-locked in place and the projectile holster refilled. The mechanism was again released, sending the sharp device straight into his now fragile body.
He began to claw at his skin, the vile concoction that was poison penetrating his blood stream. His skin felt as if it was melting, as a strange sense of heat ran through his body. He screamed again, smashing into all and any nearby object's, then the pain stopped. He opened his eye's to see a city in ruin's, with vulture's feeding upon the rotting carcases trappd underneath the debris. A lone group of figure's wielding crossbow's glared at him, their weapon's primed. He extended his maw to engulf them, in turn hearing their scream's of terror.
His world, again, turned black ...
Grand Admiral of the Imperial Remnant.
"This one is constantly thinking, analyzing, strategizing. He showed no fear, but was curious, studying me in turn."
"All thoughts are worth listening to, whether later judged to be of value or not."
"I have no qualms about accepting a useful idea merely because it wasn't my own."
"Butů it was so artistically done."
―Thrawn's last words