This is a companion to the X-Wing Rogue Squadron series of comics entitled The Rebel Opposition written by Michael Stackpole and published by Dark Horse Comics between 1995 and 1996. It focuses on Winter, filling in some missing scenes in the storyline with special emphasis on the initial development of the relationship between Winter and Tycho Celchu. It is best read with the comics by your side so you get the whole context. If you don't have them – get thee to the nearest independent comic store! They even have them in Omnibus form now.
WARNING: Rated M for Romance novel type of activity. I've always thought Star Wars was the ultimate romance story.
---
A special note to the diehard canon-ites out there:
Everybody assumes Tycho and Winter's first kiss occurred as shown at the end of Battleground: Tatooine. But canon does not say it's their first kiss. I asked myself why is Winter so affectionate and sweet to Tycho in Rebel Opposition but so cold and abrasive in Battleground: Tatooine? Obviously, something happened.
It seems to me that Winter's behavior towards Tycho all through Battleground: Tatooine is quite in keeping with the defensive angst that often occurs when two people with a passionate encounter in their past meet again – an encounter that left a lasting impression on a tough, young operative who prided herself on her detached efficiency and was desperately trying not to fall in love - an encounter that might have gone something like this.
(Bold indicates a quote from the X-Wing Rogue Squadron: The Rebel Opposition series of comics by Michael A. Stackpole, published by Dark Horse Comics, except for the quote of Bria Tharen, which comes from Rebel Dawn by A. C. Crispin.)
--ooOoo--
PROLOGUE
Gates Harnik tossed the latest delivery of mundis onto the hover sled, his tunic clinging to his thick, sweat-drenched torso. The humidity this season was what Rascol would have called "insufferable" if she had been here to experience it with him. He paused to wipe his brow with a well-used cloth from his back pocket and took the opportunity to survey the street. It looked the same as it always did on a mid-week afternoon. Tamarack was a sleepy town for the most part. Nothing much exciting happened here. A prominent businessman, his store occupied the prized corner of the primary intersection in town.
It was quiet as usual now. Most citizens were working their fields or off to the capital Kiidan. He didn't know what he expected to see but he was always on edge since Rascol had… disappeared. He couldn't bring himself to say she had died, even though in his heart he knew it was true.
His guests didn't make him any more comfortable either but he was glad they were there.
Gates tapped his id code in the datapad the drayman held out for him to acknowledge receipt of the mundis and wondered whether he was working for Tascl. Probably not since he was Trandoshan. A Moff wouldn't sully himself with a non-human. Still, one couldn't be too careful. Gates nodded his thanks briskly and turned to maneuver the hover sled into his warehouse. Business as usual must continue. Tascl mustn't be alerted to his coming demise.
The grocer's warehouse crew quickly distributed the mundis into the waiting durobins, oblivious to the planning taking place in the back office. Gates plodded toward the gathering, picking up some fruit on the way and inspecting the quality of the crop. He selected several good specimens and took them to the local Opposition leaders and their Rebel guests assembled in the back office of the Tamarack Foodstuffs Emporium.
"We can guarantee prominent positions in the new government for all Opposition leaders," the Rebel negotiator was saying. "The transition can be smooth and seamless if we accept the reparations offered and begin building our future together." Tal Aranis was standing in the middle of the good sized office, surrounded by a dozen commanders from the biggest resistance cells on Cilpar. It was a top secret meeting several months in the making. "I'm not saying we just forgive and forget," Aranis continued in a diplomatic tone. "I'm just saying we need to think more about the future of Cilpar than the past."
"What about justice?" asked one particularly grizzled looking man. "Some of us have seen our families murdered, our property confiscated. The Imps have to pay for what they've done."
"And they certainly will," assured Aranis. "A special tribunal will be set up with Alliance judges to determine the culpability and penalties for those accused of war crimes." Aranis gestured to the slim, silver haired woman at the back of the room. "My assistant knows all too well the horror of Imperial war crimes. She is from Alderaan. She would personally flay me alive if I were to dismiss Imperial crimes lightly." Aranis gave her a tight smile. "But even she agrees that we cannot fight forever. We must find a way to move forward. The Emporer is dead. Governor Norquest is willing to defer to Alliance authority. He has not personally participated in any atrocities. Moff Baron Tascl will bear the full brunt of Alliance justice, rest assured. But Cilpar can be free! Is that not worth the effort to find a way to coexist with Norquest?"
"How can we trust him? How can we trust you?" spat out a woman whose face quivered with barely suppressed anger. "My husband always said to trust no one." Her fiery green eyes seemed to melt with her emotion. "He fought and died for a free Cilpar. I fully support that dream. But how can we trust them?" The wide motion of her hands took in Aranis, his assistant and all of the world outside the suddenly microscopic back office.
"I trust them." Gates spoke for the first time in a soft tone, full of conviction. "I trust the Rebel Alliance, anyways. They have freed many worlds and always traded fairly with them. They do not simply seek to replace the Empire. They truly believe in freedom." He looked at the woman with the fiery green eyes. "Rascol trusted them, too."
"And look what that got her! Gone, probably dead!" Gates flinched at her words, knowing they were probably true. "I should never have let her infiltrate the Moff's palace," the woman continued, shooting an accusatory glare at Aranis.
Aranis bowed his head in a gesture of respect. "Your sister was a very brave woman. She gave us invaluable information that has made this deal possible. Would she want us to lose this chance she gave us?" His head raised now as he confronted the green eyed woman with her choices. "Would your husband?"
Silence reigned as Aranis let the full weight of his words settle on the assembled Opposition leaders. He would need their support to convert Cilpar to a member of the Rebel Alliance. Out of the corner of his eyes he caught his assistant gesturing to him urgently as she pointed to her earpiece.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, let's take a break to consider what we have heard here." The gathered leaders murmured their assent and filed out of the office to visit with their delegations. Aranis turned to his assistant, who whispered urgently in his ear. She gestured vaguely in a westerly direction and looked around at the huddling Opposition leaders. Her body language was tightly controlled but her face gave away her anxious concern to the alert observer. She laid her hand on Aranis' shoulder and moved to guide him toward the exit. He shook his head and halted her with his hand. Turning back, he addressed the divergent groups in a loud voice.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, I am risking my life in telling you this, but you deserve to know. You have been betrayed. I suggest - - "
The distinctive sound of a blaster echoed in the warehouse and Aranis' body crumpled to the cold floor. Smoke rose from a charred hole in his torso as everyone was frozen in shock.
Everyone except his assistant. Instantly she pulled a holdout blaster from her tunic and dove behind a canister of thrashed puerco.
The warehouse erupted in laserfire as the opposition delegations dove for the exits, blasting anything in their way. Shouts of dismay echoed, led loudly by a female voice screaming "Traitors! Curse them all!"
Fruit exploded when caught by a stray beam and liquids spewed from pierced canisters. Someone rolled open the oversized warehouse loading dock doors, the bright light of the Cilpar sun illuminating the far corners. There was no sign of the assassin.
"Imps!" came the forceful shout as the sound of strafing TIE fighters approached them. The storefront exploded as the enemy ships systematically targeted the prominent buildings of the town. The heavy steps of the multi-tonned AT-STs led the Stormtroopers through the streets.
Shouted orders from the faction leaders to their small security details began a desperate effort to escape the Stormtrooper sweep. One speeder darted away, piloted by the red haired woman. It veered and juked to avoid fire, driven with skill worthy of a veteran podracer. Random fire from the standard issue E-11 Blaster rifles took down other resistance fighters before they could reach their vehicles. Blaster cannon fire from the AT-ST brought down two speeder bikes making a run for the edge of town. Up and down the main street of Tamarack the fire fight raged.
Gates huddled behind a large water tank in the alley across from his store. Beside him was the silver-haired Rebel liaison and diplomatic assistant code-named Targeter. She studied the scene before them with an intent expression, her eyes darting back and forth as she took in every troop movement, every hand signal, every weapon. Finally she nodded to herself and spoke in a low voice. "They're deploying in a standard pincer movement, trying to drive everyone to the center of town." She turned to rise and motioned to Gates to follow. "This way."
He followed her through another alley and then cut across a gated courtyard of an empty tapcaf. Rounding the corner of the building, Targeter stopped short and raised her hand in a fist, motioning for Gates to freeze. A moment later she crouched low, mimicking the motion with her hand held flat. Gates pressed up close behind her and then crouched down, pressing his shoulder against hers.
She turned a somber eye toward him. "We're too late." The sound of marching Stormtroopers reverberated down the street. "We'll have to get clever." Turning back to watch the deployment of Imperial forces, an expression of deep concentration was etched on her elegant features. Gates saw a depth of determination in her eyes he had not seen since Rascol announced she was going to do her part for the Opposition. He noticed then that her eyes were the same shade of green that Rascol's had been, though her crystal white hair created a striking contrast, giving her a distinctly ethereal quality.
"Come on," he whispered to Targeter as he grabbed her arm and pulled her along. He moved back toward the gated courtyard of the empty tapcaf, stopping to open the door on the side of the building. It wasn't locked. Tamarack was a safe town.
"Marjoi?" He called as loudly as he dared. Entering the kitchen area he headed to the other side of the room. "Marjoi?" He called up the stairs. "It's Gates. Are you here?" He bounded up the steps two at a time and was gone for a few moments before returning. "It's all clear. Looks like she went to Kiidan today, thank the Force." He grabbed a knapsack and started stuffing as much pre-packaged foodstuffs as he could into it. He wrapped a heavy-duty meat knife and tenderizing mallet in fabriplast and placed them in a side pocket. "Not much for weapons but they will have to do," he muttered.
"I like this better." Gates hadn't even noticed that she was gone but now she stood at the bottom of the steps he had just left, fastening a very well-worn leather holster around her hips.
"That thing's a relic." Gates looked doubtfully at the beat up DL-44 heavy blaster resting in the holster. Its black surface had long since lost any gloss it had when new and sported many scratches and dents that looked like they could interfere with proper functioning.
"It still has a charge." She took it out of the holster now, examining it with a practiced eye, testing the weight in her hands. "It will do the job better than a meat cleaver and tenderizing hammer."
"Point," Gates admitted. An odd look lit up his face suddenly as he stared at the blaster. Unexpectedly he darted up the steps past the woman. He returned almost immediately with what appeared to be a suit draped over his arm. He folded it up tight and shoving it in the pack with a muttered "This might come in handy." He moved to the cupboards and scavenged through them, taking whatever he felt might be useful. Soon the pack was stuffed full of food, tools, first aid supplies and even a couple short-range communicators.
"So," she stood looking at him expectantly. "What's the plan?"
Gates closed the pack deliberately and handed it to her. "Now we walk out of town."
"Just like that?"
"Just like that."
She didn't have to voice her skepticism as her face said it all for her. Outside the tapcaf the sounds of a battle continued to rage. Blasters whined, people shouted and Stormtrooper armor clanked. She cocked her head and waited for him to explain.
Gates sighed and started moving back out the side door into the alley "Trust me."
They hugged the wall of the building until they reached the end of the alley. The cordon of Stormtroopers had passed their location now, drawing the perimeter around the town ever tighter. Guards had been left behind at regular intervals to watch for stragglers and prevent escape. It wouldn't be easy getting by them.
Suddenly, Gates reached down and grabbed her by the left hand. "Just walk calmly and confidently," he instructed. True to his words, he stepped boldly out into the sunny street in full view of the nearest guard. Still holding her hand, he pulled Targeter with him and began casually walking the guard's direction.
"What are you doing?" Targeter hissed in surprise.
He didn't answer but continued to hold her hand and walk casually right up to the guardsman. Then they were past him and on their way out of town. The guard had acted as if he hadn't seen them at all.
"How did you do that?" Targeter's eyes were wide in shock, her hand gripped tight on the worn blaster. They continued walking and didn't stop until they reached a copse of trees that marked the transition from agri-eco to forested-eco. Gates stopped and turned to answer her questions.
"I learned as a child how to play hide-and-seek better than anyone. So well, that I soon discovered that if I didn't want to be seen, I wasn't. Not even when they were looking directly at me." He shrugged and looked back toward town, a worried expression on his face.
Targeter stared at him for a long moment. "Well, that sure qualifies as clever. I know a Jedi who would be very interested in talking to you."
That got his attention. Slowly he nodded his head. "Send him my way when this is over. I won't be leaving my home but I would be honored to talk to him." He turned and started walking back into town.
"Wait!" Targeter reached out and grabbed his arm. "Where are you going?"
He looked at her and then back into town. "I told you. I won't be leaving my home."
"But they'll kill you!"
He nodded. "Maybe. Or maybe they will put me wherever they put Rascol. Either way, I'll be with her." He turned to Targeter with an intent expression. "You have to get back to your Alliance and let them know Tascl is on the loose again. Somebody betrayed our meeting to him and he took the opportunity to wipe us out. He has no interest in co-existing. He must be defeated. You tell your people they were wrong."
With that, Gates turned and walked purposefully back into his home town.
The white haired woman code name Targeter watched his back recede from her for several long minutes, her face a storm of emotion as she struggled to accept Gates' decision. Finally, a veneer of practiced composure forced the turmoil and anguish away. She turned and started a hike of several hundred kilometers west. In a couple days, the Rebel forces should be at the base she had started to set up for the supply convoy. It would take her a couple weeks to reach them, but when she did, she would be taking care of Moff Boren Tascl one way or another.
--ooOoo--