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.
* * * * * * *
Chapter 4: On The Way
* * * * * * *
He was thoroughly confused by the time they'd reached the place Jesina was staying. They'd taken a speeder to one hotel, gotten out, and gone in. But instead of staying there, they went through it onto a side street, into another hotel, through that to another, and from there they'd taken another speeder to a small, nondescript house just outside the planet's capitol city.
As soon as they walked in, she went straight to the back of the house. A moment later she emerged, followed by a black-haired man who was carrying a large box.
As he set it down Tycho asked, "Want to tell me what's going on?"
"After I heard about Alderaan, I knew you wouldn't be able to stay with the Empire. So I found out where you'd next be going planet-side, and decided to meet you, and help you get away." She paused and studied his face. "I was right, wasn't I?"
He nodded, surprised that she would even ask. "Of course."
"Well, we're getting off of Thyferra - and getting you away from the Empire." She opened the box and drew out a roll of bandages, a container of hair dye, and a small holdout blaster.
Then Jesina straightened up and pointed at her companion. "This is Jax Tenore. He's going to pose as your brother. You're going to need to conceal your face if we want to get you out of here. So we're going to dye your hair and bandage you up. We'll tell anyone who asks that you have a strange illness and I'm providing transport for you two to Corellia to a specialist. I don't usually do passenger transport, but I've been known to make exceptions. It shouldn't catch too much attention."
He smiled. "You've really got this all planned out, huh?"
"Have to." She returned his smile. "I can't tell you where we're going. If things don't go as planned, the less you know, the less you can tell. I trust you with my life, but I can't ask others to do the same."
She gestured to a chair and pulled a long piece of cloth out of the box. "Sit down. This won't take long."
She was right. Ten minutes later, his hair was the precise shade of Jax's, and Jesina had just finished bandaging his face. She tossed him the blaster. "Here. I'll hold onto yours. It's too big to easily conceal, but I don't want you to be unarmed."
He took it from her and nodded. She leaned over again, and pulled a pair of baggy, tan pants and a light blue tunic out of the crate. "You can change into these. We'll get rid of your uniform. You can use the room in back."
He nodded again, and walked in the direction she and Jax had come from. As he tossed his uniform on the ground, pulling on the civilian clothes, he shook his head. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been out without a uniform. He sat down on the edge of the bed and rolled up his pant leg to strap on the blaster and holster she'd given him. Then he gathered up the clothing he'd taken off and rejoined Jesina and Jax.
"All set?" she asked, taking the uniform from him.
"As ready as I'll ever be."
"You always were." She holstered her own blaster and slipped his into her duffel. Then she walked to the small kitchen just off the main room and stopped in front of the sink. She placed his uniform inside the sink basin and drew a lighter from a pocket. Turning to Tycho she offered him the lighter and asked, "Would you like to do the honors?"
He hesitated, then shook his head. Shrugging, she turned back and flipped the switch on the lighter. As the flame appeared, she lowered it slowly, and watched as it made contact with the fabric.
As the flames grew, Tycho could only stare as the flames consumed what he had always intended to become, burning the proverbial bridge behind him.
Shaking off the doubts that came over him, he met Jesina's eyes and said, "I guess that's that."
"Then let's go, boys."
* * * * * * *
They caught a public speeder back to the spaceport and were soon nearing the landing bay where her ship was docked. "Captain Dreis," the guard, outside the hanger where her ship was berthed, greeted her authoritatively. "Passengers?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Jax Tenore and his brother Ley. They're headed to Corellia for a specialist for Ley. He has a very, ah, delicate condition."
"Identification?" he asked curtly, taking a step back from the "brothers."
She handed him the three IDs. After examining them carefully, he handed them back saying, "Have a good trip, Captain."
Entering the hanger, he looked up at the ship filling the landing bay and turned, nodding his approval to Jesina. The Nightwind, as she had called it en route, was as sleek and beautiful as its owner. The Corellian Engineering YT-2400 stock cargo hauler was a sight to see, and for a moment took Tycho's breath away. His eyes following the graceful lines of the saucer-shaped hull, Tycho walked a quick circuit around the ship, as Jesina and Jax bounded up the ramp to begin preflight operations.
The hull was black as a starless void, and would be difficult to spot in space with the naked eye. The engines, he soon realized, were hardly standard, being slightly larger than ships of this class typically carried, had clearly been upgraded for greater power and acceleration. On the underside of the hull, upon one of the bracing arms connecting the cockpit compartment tube to the body of the ship, a small black dome began to rotate slowly as they powered up the vessel. Tycho recognized it as a primary component to an extremely sensitive, not to mention expensive, sensor suit. Mounted on the turrets above and below the saucer section of the ship was a pair of double heavy laser cannons, hardly standard for such freighters.
Finally coming full circle, he strode up the landing craft, eager to see what she could do in space. Knowing Jesina, there was more to this ship than even his militarily trained eye could catch. In typical Jesina fashion she had spared no expense in creating the ship of her dreams. Unable to help himself, despite all the concerns and doubts warring within him, Tycho strolled into the cockpit where his two companions were preparing to query the tower for take off clearance, sporting a broad grin.
Catching Tycho's grin, and happy to see her old friend enjoying himself despite the immense pressures he burdened himself with, Jesina motioned to Tycho, offering him the controls, as she took up the communications gear to get their launch vector. Besides, she had always loved to watch Tycho fly.
The officer in the tower gave the Nightwind her departure clearance, and Tycho's hands instinctively ran over the unfamiliar controls as if he'd been flying freighters since before he learned to walk. He brought the ship up gracefully, then brought it into a lazy arc until he was aligned for their escape vector. He throttled up, amazed with how effortlessly the ship handled and brought the ship out of the planet's gravity well in just a few minutes. As soon as he was clear he turned to Jesina, "So, now that we're out, where to?"
"Let Jax take care of it, I gotta talk to you about your wardrobe." She wore that mischievous grin which she had worn all to often in their childhood on Alderaan. Tycho groaned. It seemed that every time he had seen that look as a child, events had ended with the generally straight- edged Tycho getting in trouble as the young scoundrel while Jesina looked on, laughing.
* * * * * * *
"Are you sure this was really necessary?" Jesina looked at Tycho and, not for the first time, burst out laughing. The clean cut gentleman Tycho Celchu, having gone from the Alderaanian aristocracy to the imperial navy, now looked anything but distinguished. He was dressed entirely in some kind of red lizard's skin. Worn as a jumpsuit, the flesh of the face of the beast hanging down his back like a cast off hood, it was belted by a black chain. His hair, now a neon green which actually glowed in the dark, as he had discovered as Jesina lead him down one of many dark, filthy alleys of the underlevels of the Nar Shaddaa cityscape, was no longer the clean imperial regulation haircut, but instead was spiked in three lines like a triple Mohawk. One pointed straight up, another to either side. The hair in between was shaved. Tycho despised it.
Jesina, still giggling, expertly guided him down the maze of corridors and walkways. Nar Shaddaa reminded Tycho of the worst parts of Coruscant, where Tycho had attended the Imperial Academy. Although, where the giant city planet, the imperial capital city, had housed majestic skyscrapers like the Imperial Palace, Nar Shaddaa was all filth and decay. The city looked like a nightmarish twin to Coruscant, buildings showing scars from recent firefights, a fact not surprising considering the moon's typical residents.
Nar Shaddaa was the city moon of Nal Hutta, home of the Hutts, huge slug- like crime bosses. The moon was home to smugglers, bounty hunters, and criminals of every sort. In short, it was a haven for the scum of the universe. Not for the first time, Tycho wondered what they were doing here.
Jesina led him onto a small lift platform, the thick coating of rust and muck hiding whatever the original materials may have been. Their course had been roundabout, and Tycho had long since lost track of their path, which he supposed had been her intention all a long. The lift raised them about twenty floors. She lead him down another series of walkways until they approached a bar, a worn holo-sign identifying it as The Forlorn Hope.
It was dimly lit, the only lights being the blinding spotlights shining down from above the bar in the center of the circular club. The floor was duracrete tiling, stained with the blood of various species from the all too common bar brawls. All around the walls were round booths built into the walls. Dim, red lighting panels lined the tables, and curtains were hung from above, permitting the patrons some measure of privacy in which to conduct their, all to often, shady business. In the air clung the acrid smoke of an amalgam of illicit narcotics.
Jesina led him to the bar where she ordered them a pair of drinks which smelled like reactor coolant, and tasted even worse. She then took a meandering course towards a booth in the back of the bar. Drawing back the curtains just enough to pass, they took their seats. In front of them, nursing a drink of his own sat an alien Tycho recognized as a Bothan.
Tycho made an effort to take in as many details as he could. The Bothan's fur was gray, though he had black stripes all over his body. His face was a mask of black, except for white around the left eye. As he moved, his fur rippled - possibly the Bothan version of the way a human tensed up when confronted by a possible threat.
"Tycho Celchu, meet Eskrit Gil'fra. He's involved in recruitment for the Rebellion, especially of former Imperials," Jesina said. "Eskrit, this is Tycho Celchu. He's an old friend."
"Pleased to meet you," Tycho said, holding out his hand.
The Bothan didn't return the gesture. "I wouldn't want to taint your Imperial hand with the touch of an alien." he replied with a sneer Now tell me why I should trust you. Tell me why the Rebellion should trust you," was his greeting.
Tycho was taken aback, and for a moment didn't know what to say. Finally he said, "I can't give you a reason, I guess."
"Well, that's not good enough."
Again, he was surprised by the cold manner, though, he supposed, he really shouldn't be. The Rebels had to be careful. It was impossible to tell who might be an Imperial agent. Tycho thought for a minute. "The Empire killed my family. And I want the chance to pay them back for that. And I know Jesina. And I would never do anything to harm her."
"Do you know how many times I've heard that?" the Bothan asked.
"Probably twice for every wanted man who walks into this place in a day," Tycho replied. "But it's the best answer I can give you, because it's the truth. The day the Empire destroyed Alderaan, they lost my allegiance. I knew there were problems before -- that's why I joined the Empire in the first place. But after Alderaan I realized that things were a lot more out of control than I thought they were." He sighed, running a hand through his hair, and blinked back tears. "If you don't believe me, you don't believe me. There's nothing I can do about it."
"Heh! A fine speech, boy, where'd you read it? I've been around and then some, and if you think some cockamamie story like that is gonna convince me, you've got another thing coming." Turning to Jesina he added, "What were you thinking brining this scum here? He couldn't be more obvious if he had "Imperial Spy" tattooed on his furless forehead. You know better than to bring someone for a face to face before I've okayed it. You said you wanted to meet, you didn't say anything about Lieutenant Do-right over here."
Jesina glowered. "You haven't even given him a chance! Eskrit, he was talking to his family when Alderaan was destroyed. In a day's time he lost everything. I'm trying to help him rebuild his life."
"And what does your little pet project have to do with me?" Eskrit replied with a growl.
Tycho held up a hand. "Wait, Jes. I never let you fight my battles when we were growing up, and I'm not about to start now." He turned to the Bothan. "Jesina and I grew up together. She knew, as soon as she heard about Alderaan, that that would be it for me. And she knew I'd need help getting away. So she helped me do it." He stood and ran a hand through what little was left of his hair. "Somehow, I guess I thought the Rebels would be a little more understanding. Apparently, I was wrong." He turned his attention back to Jesina. "This is a waste of time. I'll figure something out for myself, Jes. Just drop me on some backwater world and I'll take care of myself. Let's get out of here."
Casting a last glance at the cantankerous Bothan, he shook his head and stalked out of the bar. He barely made it through the door when he felt a hand on his arm. He knew it was Jesina, and he knew what she was going to say, so he didn't stop, or even turn around.
But she stopped him. Giving him a hard yank, she spun him around to face her. "You're right. I didn't fight your battles for you when we were kids. But I didn't have to, because you fought them yourself. You stood up for yourself. Not once did I see you walk away from anything you really wanted or believed in. Did the Academy change you that much?"
He glared. "What do you want from me?" He flung his arm toward the door, in the general direction of the table they'd been at. "He's not going to listen to me. He clearly doesn't believe me, or what you say about me."
"Can you blame him? Welcome to reality, Tycho. You went through the Imperial Academy. You've flown against -- and killed -- Rebel pilots. You served the Empire loyally. Yes, we've had a lot of people come over to our side who served the Empire even more than you did, people who served us loyally. But we've also had people slip through and betray us. Especially now, now that we've had a major victory, we've got to be careful. I know you, and I trust you. But can you honestly expect someone who has seen as much as he has to just take you on my say so? To just take you at your word?"
His shoulders slumped, defeated. "I understand your point. I realize you have to be careful. But I don't know what to do. How am I supposed to convince him?"
"Who knows? But you will, because you have to." She took his hand and gently pulled him back into the dimly lit establishment, guiding him silently back to their booth.
The Bothan was still there, his drink no more empty than it had been when they'd walked away. He regarded Tycho coolly, then said, "That was quite a display." He turned to Jesina. "You believe in him, that's your business. But it's on your shoulders. When he turns out to be a traitor, the deaths he causes will be on your conscience, not mine." Eskrit glanced quickly at his chrono. "I'll meet you on your ship in fourteen hours. Do not try to find me before then." He stood, and disappeared into the crowd almost instantly.
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 4: On The Way
* * * * * * *
He was thoroughly confused by the time they'd reached the place Jesina was staying. They'd taken a speeder to one hotel, gotten out, and gone in. But instead of staying there, they went through it onto a side street, into another hotel, through that to another, and from there they'd taken another speeder to a small, nondescript house just outside the planet's capitol city.
As soon as they walked in, she went straight to the back of the house. A moment later she emerged, followed by a black-haired man who was carrying a large box.
As he set it down Tycho asked, "Want to tell me what's going on?"
"After I heard about Alderaan, I knew you wouldn't be able to stay with the Empire. So I found out where you'd next be going planet-side, and decided to meet you, and help you get away." She paused and studied his face. "I was right, wasn't I?"
He nodded, surprised that she would even ask. "Of course."
"Well, we're getting off of Thyferra - and getting you away from the Empire." She opened the box and drew out a roll of bandages, a container of hair dye, and a small holdout blaster.
Then Jesina straightened up and pointed at her companion. "This is Jax Tenore. He's going to pose as your brother. You're going to need to conceal your face if we want to get you out of here. So we're going to dye your hair and bandage you up. We'll tell anyone who asks that you have a strange illness and I'm providing transport for you two to Corellia to a specialist. I don't usually do passenger transport, but I've been known to make exceptions. It shouldn't catch too much attention."
He smiled. "You've really got this all planned out, huh?"
"Have to." She returned his smile. "I can't tell you where we're going. If things don't go as planned, the less you know, the less you can tell. I trust you with my life, but I can't ask others to do the same."
She gestured to a chair and pulled a long piece of cloth out of the box. "Sit down. This won't take long."
She was right. Ten minutes later, his hair was the precise shade of Jax's, and Jesina had just finished bandaging his face. She tossed him the blaster. "Here. I'll hold onto yours. It's too big to easily conceal, but I don't want you to be unarmed."
He took it from her and nodded. She leaned over again, and pulled a pair of baggy, tan pants and a light blue tunic out of the crate. "You can change into these. We'll get rid of your uniform. You can use the room in back."
He nodded again, and walked in the direction she and Jax had come from. As he tossed his uniform on the ground, pulling on the civilian clothes, he shook his head. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been out without a uniform. He sat down on the edge of the bed and rolled up his pant leg to strap on the blaster and holster she'd given him. Then he gathered up the clothing he'd taken off and rejoined Jesina and Jax.
"All set?" she asked, taking the uniform from him.
"As ready as I'll ever be."
"You always were." She holstered her own blaster and slipped his into her duffel. Then she walked to the small kitchen just off the main room and stopped in front of the sink. She placed his uniform inside the sink basin and drew a lighter from a pocket. Turning to Tycho she offered him the lighter and asked, "Would you like to do the honors?"
He hesitated, then shook his head. Shrugging, she turned back and flipped the switch on the lighter. As the flame appeared, she lowered it slowly, and watched as it made contact with the fabric.
As the flames grew, Tycho could only stare as the flames consumed what he had always intended to become, burning the proverbial bridge behind him.
Shaking off the doubts that came over him, he met Jesina's eyes and said, "I guess that's that."
"Then let's go, boys."
* * * * * * *
They caught a public speeder back to the spaceport and were soon nearing the landing bay where her ship was docked. "Captain Dreis," the guard, outside the hanger where her ship was berthed, greeted her authoritatively. "Passengers?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Jax Tenore and his brother Ley. They're headed to Corellia for a specialist for Ley. He has a very, ah, delicate condition."
"Identification?" he asked curtly, taking a step back from the "brothers."
She handed him the three IDs. After examining them carefully, he handed them back saying, "Have a good trip, Captain."
Entering the hanger, he looked up at the ship filling the landing bay and turned, nodding his approval to Jesina. The Nightwind, as she had called it en route, was as sleek and beautiful as its owner. The Corellian Engineering YT-2400 stock cargo hauler was a sight to see, and for a moment took Tycho's breath away. His eyes following the graceful lines of the saucer-shaped hull, Tycho walked a quick circuit around the ship, as Jesina and Jax bounded up the ramp to begin preflight operations.
The hull was black as a starless void, and would be difficult to spot in space with the naked eye. The engines, he soon realized, were hardly standard, being slightly larger than ships of this class typically carried, had clearly been upgraded for greater power and acceleration. On the underside of the hull, upon one of the bracing arms connecting the cockpit compartment tube to the body of the ship, a small black dome began to rotate slowly as they powered up the vessel. Tycho recognized it as a primary component to an extremely sensitive, not to mention expensive, sensor suit. Mounted on the turrets above and below the saucer section of the ship was a pair of double heavy laser cannons, hardly standard for such freighters.
Finally coming full circle, he strode up the landing craft, eager to see what she could do in space. Knowing Jesina, there was more to this ship than even his militarily trained eye could catch. In typical Jesina fashion she had spared no expense in creating the ship of her dreams. Unable to help himself, despite all the concerns and doubts warring within him, Tycho strolled into the cockpit where his two companions were preparing to query the tower for take off clearance, sporting a broad grin.
Catching Tycho's grin, and happy to see her old friend enjoying himself despite the immense pressures he burdened himself with, Jesina motioned to Tycho, offering him the controls, as she took up the communications gear to get their launch vector. Besides, she had always loved to watch Tycho fly.
The officer in the tower gave the Nightwind her departure clearance, and Tycho's hands instinctively ran over the unfamiliar controls as if he'd been flying freighters since before he learned to walk. He brought the ship up gracefully, then brought it into a lazy arc until he was aligned for their escape vector. He throttled up, amazed with how effortlessly the ship handled and brought the ship out of the planet's gravity well in just a few minutes. As soon as he was clear he turned to Jesina, "So, now that we're out, where to?"
"Let Jax take care of it, I gotta talk to you about your wardrobe." She wore that mischievous grin which she had worn all to often in their childhood on Alderaan. Tycho groaned. It seemed that every time he had seen that look as a child, events had ended with the generally straight- edged Tycho getting in trouble as the young scoundrel while Jesina looked on, laughing.
* * * * * * *
"Are you sure this was really necessary?" Jesina looked at Tycho and, not for the first time, burst out laughing. The clean cut gentleman Tycho Celchu, having gone from the Alderaanian aristocracy to the imperial navy, now looked anything but distinguished. He was dressed entirely in some kind of red lizard's skin. Worn as a jumpsuit, the flesh of the face of the beast hanging down his back like a cast off hood, it was belted by a black chain. His hair, now a neon green which actually glowed in the dark, as he had discovered as Jesina lead him down one of many dark, filthy alleys of the underlevels of the Nar Shaddaa cityscape, was no longer the clean imperial regulation haircut, but instead was spiked in three lines like a triple Mohawk. One pointed straight up, another to either side. The hair in between was shaved. Tycho despised it.
Jesina, still giggling, expertly guided him down the maze of corridors and walkways. Nar Shaddaa reminded Tycho of the worst parts of Coruscant, where Tycho had attended the Imperial Academy. Although, where the giant city planet, the imperial capital city, had housed majestic skyscrapers like the Imperial Palace, Nar Shaddaa was all filth and decay. The city looked like a nightmarish twin to Coruscant, buildings showing scars from recent firefights, a fact not surprising considering the moon's typical residents.
Nar Shaddaa was the city moon of Nal Hutta, home of the Hutts, huge slug- like crime bosses. The moon was home to smugglers, bounty hunters, and criminals of every sort. In short, it was a haven for the scum of the universe. Not for the first time, Tycho wondered what they were doing here.
Jesina led him onto a small lift platform, the thick coating of rust and muck hiding whatever the original materials may have been. Their course had been roundabout, and Tycho had long since lost track of their path, which he supposed had been her intention all a long. The lift raised them about twenty floors. She lead him down another series of walkways until they approached a bar, a worn holo-sign identifying it as The Forlorn Hope.
It was dimly lit, the only lights being the blinding spotlights shining down from above the bar in the center of the circular club. The floor was duracrete tiling, stained with the blood of various species from the all too common bar brawls. All around the walls were round booths built into the walls. Dim, red lighting panels lined the tables, and curtains were hung from above, permitting the patrons some measure of privacy in which to conduct their, all to often, shady business. In the air clung the acrid smoke of an amalgam of illicit narcotics.
Jesina led him to the bar where she ordered them a pair of drinks which smelled like reactor coolant, and tasted even worse. She then took a meandering course towards a booth in the back of the bar. Drawing back the curtains just enough to pass, they took their seats. In front of them, nursing a drink of his own sat an alien Tycho recognized as a Bothan.
Tycho made an effort to take in as many details as he could. The Bothan's fur was gray, though he had black stripes all over his body. His face was a mask of black, except for white around the left eye. As he moved, his fur rippled - possibly the Bothan version of the way a human tensed up when confronted by a possible threat.
"Tycho Celchu, meet Eskrit Gil'fra. He's involved in recruitment for the Rebellion, especially of former Imperials," Jesina said. "Eskrit, this is Tycho Celchu. He's an old friend."
"Pleased to meet you," Tycho said, holding out his hand.
The Bothan didn't return the gesture. "I wouldn't want to taint your Imperial hand with the touch of an alien." he replied with a sneer Now tell me why I should trust you. Tell me why the Rebellion should trust you," was his greeting.
Tycho was taken aback, and for a moment didn't know what to say. Finally he said, "I can't give you a reason, I guess."
"Well, that's not good enough."
Again, he was surprised by the cold manner, though, he supposed, he really shouldn't be. The Rebels had to be careful. It was impossible to tell who might be an Imperial agent. Tycho thought for a minute. "The Empire killed my family. And I want the chance to pay them back for that. And I know Jesina. And I would never do anything to harm her."
"Do you know how many times I've heard that?" the Bothan asked.
"Probably twice for every wanted man who walks into this place in a day," Tycho replied. "But it's the best answer I can give you, because it's the truth. The day the Empire destroyed Alderaan, they lost my allegiance. I knew there were problems before -- that's why I joined the Empire in the first place. But after Alderaan I realized that things were a lot more out of control than I thought they were." He sighed, running a hand through his hair, and blinked back tears. "If you don't believe me, you don't believe me. There's nothing I can do about it."
"Heh! A fine speech, boy, where'd you read it? I've been around and then some, and if you think some cockamamie story like that is gonna convince me, you've got another thing coming." Turning to Jesina he added, "What were you thinking brining this scum here? He couldn't be more obvious if he had "Imperial Spy" tattooed on his furless forehead. You know better than to bring someone for a face to face before I've okayed it. You said you wanted to meet, you didn't say anything about Lieutenant Do-right over here."
Jesina glowered. "You haven't even given him a chance! Eskrit, he was talking to his family when Alderaan was destroyed. In a day's time he lost everything. I'm trying to help him rebuild his life."
"And what does your little pet project have to do with me?" Eskrit replied with a growl.
Tycho held up a hand. "Wait, Jes. I never let you fight my battles when we were growing up, and I'm not about to start now." He turned to the Bothan. "Jesina and I grew up together. She knew, as soon as she heard about Alderaan, that that would be it for me. And she knew I'd need help getting away. So she helped me do it." He stood and ran a hand through what little was left of his hair. "Somehow, I guess I thought the Rebels would be a little more understanding. Apparently, I was wrong." He turned his attention back to Jesina. "This is a waste of time. I'll figure something out for myself, Jes. Just drop me on some backwater world and I'll take care of myself. Let's get out of here."
Casting a last glance at the cantankerous Bothan, he shook his head and stalked out of the bar. He barely made it through the door when he felt a hand on his arm. He knew it was Jesina, and he knew what she was going to say, so he didn't stop, or even turn around.
But she stopped him. Giving him a hard yank, she spun him around to face her. "You're right. I didn't fight your battles for you when we were kids. But I didn't have to, because you fought them yourself. You stood up for yourself. Not once did I see you walk away from anything you really wanted or believed in. Did the Academy change you that much?"
He glared. "What do you want from me?" He flung his arm toward the door, in the general direction of the table they'd been at. "He's not going to listen to me. He clearly doesn't believe me, or what you say about me."
"Can you blame him? Welcome to reality, Tycho. You went through the Imperial Academy. You've flown against -- and killed -- Rebel pilots. You served the Empire loyally. Yes, we've had a lot of people come over to our side who served the Empire even more than you did, people who served us loyally. But we've also had people slip through and betray us. Especially now, now that we've had a major victory, we've got to be careful. I know you, and I trust you. But can you honestly expect someone who has seen as much as he has to just take you on my say so? To just take you at your word?"
His shoulders slumped, defeated. "I understand your point. I realize you have to be careful. But I don't know what to do. How am I supposed to convince him?"
"Who knows? But you will, because you have to." She took his hand and gently pulled him back into the dimly lit establishment, guiding him silently back to their booth.
The Bothan was still there, his drink no more empty than it had been when they'd walked away. He regarded Tycho coolly, then said, "That was quite a display." He turned to Jesina. "You believe in him, that's your business. But it's on your shoulders. When he turns out to be a traitor, the deaths he causes will be on your conscience, not mine." Eskrit glanced quickly at his chrono. "I'll meet you on your ship in fourteen hours. Do not try to find me before then." He stood, and disappeared into the crowd almost instantly.