Title: A New Path
Summary: Tycho Celchu's journey from the Empire to the Alliance. Set prior to A New Hope.
Disclaimer: Star Wars is, quite clearly, not mine, and no copyright infringement is intended. This story is not written for profit.
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Chapter 2: Awakening
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Slowly, Tycho opened his eyes. He struggled to a sitting position and looked around, seeing that Detar was leaning against a wall not far away. "Where am I?" he asked, his voice hoarse. "What happened?"
His wingman shifted anxiously from foot to foot. "You're in the med center. You, ah, you passed out in the lounge."
"What?" Tycho started to ask, but then the words of the broadcast came back to him in a rush, and the room again began to swim out of focus.
Detar noticed his friend start to sway and was by his side in an instant. "Take a deep breath, Tycho. Just try to breathe."
Tycho struggled to follow his friend's instructions, and eventually regained control of his faculties, but not of his emotions, as tears slid slowly down his cheeks.
Then the door slid open, and Tycho's training took over and he turned away as he tried to check his emotions. It was his commanding officer, Ishar Liat.
"How are you feeling, lieutenant?" the older man asked gruffly.
Tycho turned back to him and saluted. "I'll be fine, sir. Just a little light-headed."
"Good. I've spoken to the doctor, and he agrees. Take the rest of the evening off, lieutenant. But be back to duty tomorrow, understood?"
"Understood, sir."
The commander turned to Detar. "Why don't you let the lieutenant get some rest?" He worded the statement like a suggestion, but his tone made it a direct order.
"Yes, sir." Detar turned to Tycho. "Feel better, Tych." Then he followed his CO from the room, leaving Tycho alone with his thoughts - and his pain.
As his mind replayed the reporter's words, it hit him. He'd been talking to his family at the exact moment they had-. He swallowed hard and his mind refused to acknowledge the word.
He shook his head. Here he'd been planning to give his father a hard time about the HoloNet's failure and his parents, his sister, his fiancé were-. Again, his mind shied away from the word.
And then another thought entered his head. The newscaster had said that the space station had been a rebel weapon. But that didn't make any sense.
It was strongly suspected that Bail Organa had his daughter, Princess Leia, were major Rebel supporters. If that were the case, the Rebels would never risk alienating them. And the surest way to alienate them was to threaten their people.
As well, the Organas would never allow it to happen. If they knew the Alliance was planning to harm Alderaan, and he was sure they would if they were involved in the Rebellion, they would put a stop to it, instantly.
"No," he said aloud. "The Rebellion would never destroy Alderaan. But if it wasn't them, then who?"
Just as quickly as the question had come to him, the answer hit him. "If not the Rebellion, then the Empire." The Empire certainly had motivation - teaching the Alderaanians who were supporting the Rebels a lesson would be motivation enough. And they were the only ones who would have the resources to build such a planet killer.
His mind reeled with this realization. Here he was, sitting in the Med Center aboard the Victory-class Star Destroyer Inhibitor, serving the people who had killed his family, destroyed his home.
He blinked back tears and thought about the steps he'd taken to get to this point. He'd seen the problems in the Empire. That was actually why he'd chosen to go to the Academy. He had known that change was necessary, but hadn't believed the Rebellion was the answer. He'd sought to affect change from within.
But now he realized that that was impossible. Any government this ruthless, this evil, would never change willingly. The only way to eliminate the prejudices, corruption, and fear was to break the Empire down, once and for all. And the only way to do that was through the Rebellion.
His decision made, he leaned back against the cushions of the cot and stared out the view port at the stars that dotted space. Somewhere, out among those stars, was what was left of his home. And somewhere else out there, was his future.
Now all he had to do was figure out how to get there. How does an Imperial track down the Rebels? He knew that it was possible - there were others who'd done it. The Empire tried to keep word about defectors from spreading, but they couldn't silence everyone.
He set aside these worries for another day. Today he had a life to mourn. He turned back to face the blank walls and, for the first time in as long as he could remember, consciously gave in to his emotions, and let the tears flow freely. He cried for the family he'd lost, the future he'd lost, and for the home he'd lost, until, exhausted, he fell into a deep, thankfully dreamless, sleep.
Summary: Tycho Celchu's journey from the Empire to the Alliance. Set prior to A New Hope.
Disclaimer: Star Wars is, quite clearly, not mine, and no copyright infringement is intended. This story is not written for profit.
* * * * * * *
Chapter 2: Awakening
* * * * * * *
Slowly, Tycho opened his eyes. He struggled to a sitting position and looked around, seeing that Detar was leaning against a wall not far away. "Where am I?" he asked, his voice hoarse. "What happened?"
His wingman shifted anxiously from foot to foot. "You're in the med center. You, ah, you passed out in the lounge."
"What?" Tycho started to ask, but then the words of the broadcast came back to him in a rush, and the room again began to swim out of focus.
Detar noticed his friend start to sway and was by his side in an instant. "Take a deep breath, Tycho. Just try to breathe."
Tycho struggled to follow his friend's instructions, and eventually regained control of his faculties, but not of his emotions, as tears slid slowly down his cheeks.
Then the door slid open, and Tycho's training took over and he turned away as he tried to check his emotions. It was his commanding officer, Ishar Liat.
"How are you feeling, lieutenant?" the older man asked gruffly.
Tycho turned back to him and saluted. "I'll be fine, sir. Just a little light-headed."
"Good. I've spoken to the doctor, and he agrees. Take the rest of the evening off, lieutenant. But be back to duty tomorrow, understood?"
"Understood, sir."
The commander turned to Detar. "Why don't you let the lieutenant get some rest?" He worded the statement like a suggestion, but his tone made it a direct order.
"Yes, sir." Detar turned to Tycho. "Feel better, Tych." Then he followed his CO from the room, leaving Tycho alone with his thoughts - and his pain.
As his mind replayed the reporter's words, it hit him. He'd been talking to his family at the exact moment they had-. He swallowed hard and his mind refused to acknowledge the word.
He shook his head. Here he'd been planning to give his father a hard time about the HoloNet's failure and his parents, his sister, his fiancé were-. Again, his mind shied away from the word.
And then another thought entered his head. The newscaster had said that the space station had been a rebel weapon. But that didn't make any sense.
It was strongly suspected that Bail Organa had his daughter, Princess Leia, were major Rebel supporters. If that were the case, the Rebels would never risk alienating them. And the surest way to alienate them was to threaten their people.
As well, the Organas would never allow it to happen. If they knew the Alliance was planning to harm Alderaan, and he was sure they would if they were involved in the Rebellion, they would put a stop to it, instantly.
"No," he said aloud. "The Rebellion would never destroy Alderaan. But if it wasn't them, then who?"
Just as quickly as the question had come to him, the answer hit him. "If not the Rebellion, then the Empire." The Empire certainly had motivation - teaching the Alderaanians who were supporting the Rebels a lesson would be motivation enough. And they were the only ones who would have the resources to build such a planet killer.
His mind reeled with this realization. Here he was, sitting in the Med Center aboard the Victory-class Star Destroyer Inhibitor, serving the people who had killed his family, destroyed his home.
He blinked back tears and thought about the steps he'd taken to get to this point. He'd seen the problems in the Empire. That was actually why he'd chosen to go to the Academy. He had known that change was necessary, but hadn't believed the Rebellion was the answer. He'd sought to affect change from within.
But now he realized that that was impossible. Any government this ruthless, this evil, would never change willingly. The only way to eliminate the prejudices, corruption, and fear was to break the Empire down, once and for all. And the only way to do that was through the Rebellion.
His decision made, he leaned back against the cushions of the cot and stared out the view port at the stars that dotted space. Somewhere, out among those stars, was what was left of his home. And somewhere else out there, was his future.
Now all he had to do was figure out how to get there. How does an Imperial track down the Rebels? He knew that it was possible - there were others who'd done it. The Empire tried to keep word about defectors from spreading, but they couldn't silence everyone.
He set aside these worries for another day. Today he had a life to mourn. He turned back to face the blank walls and, for the first time in as long as he could remember, consciously gave in to his emotions, and let the tears flow freely. He cried for the family he'd lost, the future he'd lost, and for the home he'd lost, until, exhausted, he fell into a deep, thankfully dreamless, sleep.