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 5: Altercation
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Tycho walked silently beside Jesina as she led him back to the ship. He was following her automatically -- he didn't want to get lost on this damned moon -- but his mind was too full of a medley of thoughts to really pay much attention.
He couldn't help but rethink his decision to leave the Empire. He couldn't go back now, of course, but he couldn't help but wonder if it was the right choice. Order and discipline had always been driving forces in his life. The military had really been perfect for him. But now, not only had he left the strict regimen of the Imperial Navy, but he was also on the run from the legitimate government he'd served and on his way to joining the outlaw rebel movement he'd been fighting against only weeks earlier. Provided that Bothan didn't decide to space him on the way to wherever they were heading.
He couldn't help but wonder how he'd fit in. He couldn't imagine the rebels being nearly as structured as the Empire had been, so that alone would be a major change in his life. But that was not his only concern.
He was an Imperial. As much as he hated to admit it, he was. Or, at least, he had been. How would the Rebels look at him? Would they distrust him as much as Gil'fra had?
A firm grip on his arm yanked him out of his thoughts. "I'm fine, Jes," he began to say automatically, before realizing that the person holding onto him was definitely not Jesina. He realized it too late, though -- as one arm snaked around his throat, another grabbed his blaster from the holster on his hip.
A few meters ahead he could just make out Jesina, in a similar position, struggling wildly against two attackers, both human. They had already disarmed her of both her blaster and the vibroblade on her leg, and were trying to pin her against the wall of the alley, their lecherous grins telling Tycho all he needed to know about their plans for his old friend. "Stop struggling boy, you do what we say and you just might get out of this alive." The gravelly voice of his attacker grated in Tycho's ear. The man clearly knew a thing or two about fighting, and had both of Tycho's arms pinned behind him. "All we want are your credits. Well that's all we want from you; looks like my buddies have other plans for your friend." His voice trailed off into a quiet cackle of laughter, and Tycho saw that Jesina would not be able to fight off both attackers for long, her arms held as they were.
With a cry of rage and frustration, Tycho slammed his head backwards connecting solidly with his attackers face. Stunned for a moment, the man loosened his grip on Tycho long enough for him to make a grab for his blaster, which was still in his attacker's hand. The man had recovered however, and fought wildly to hold onto the blaster.
The two men, both gripping the same weapon, soon crashed to the ground, each trying to wrestle the gun away from the other. Blaster bolts splayed wildly across the wall on the far side of the alley, as the weapon went off repeatedly in the struggle. Tycho was unable to see where they struck, for he was whipped around the opposite way, as the two continued to roll along the ground striving for the upper hand in this struggle for the weapon.
* * * * * * *
Several bolts narrowly missed ending Jesina's struggle as they exploded into the wall mere inches from her face. The blasts did manage to startle one of her opponents long enough for her to lash out with her left leg, connecting solidly with the man's groin and removing him from the fight -- at least temporarily. Unable to regain her balance on one leg, with the second thug still struggling to hold her arms, she fell, hard, crashing into the duracrete pavement. The weight of her assailant falling on top of her forced the air from her lungs.
Her attacker took immediate advantage of the situation, and with her momentarily stunned he let go of one of her arms, and hit her with a devastating right hook. As her head snapped back, cracking against the hard ground, her vision darkened for a moment, and she was left dizzy. When she managed to regain her senses a moment later, the would-be robber had her discarded vibroblade in hand, and was bringing it down toward her chest, intending to impale her with her own weapon.
Jesina made a desperate grab, attempting to push the weapon up and to the side, to avoid the dangerous blade, but her assailant was too strong and all she could manage was a stalemate, which she knew she could not maintain for long. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the man she had kicked regaining his feet tentatively. No, she could not maintain this long at all.
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Tycho struggled with all his might to wrest the weapon away, but he could tell it was a losing battle. Recovered now from Tycho's initial head butt, the attacker was beginning to gain the advantage, being physically much stronger than Tycho. Tycho now spent more time simply trying to keep the barrel of the blaster pointed away from his body than trying to actually wrench away the weapon.
With a sudden heave from the attacker, Tycho's grip on the weapon faltered, and before he could make another grab for the blaster, the assailant lashed out, striking Tycho's temple with the barrel of the gun and sending him to his knees. The attacker, enraged now, with blood flowing freely from his probably broken nose, took aim at Tycho, intending to end this here and now.
From behind the Alderaanian, suddenly the air erupted with a primal howl that shook Tycho to his very bones. Surprised that he was not yet dead, Tycho looked at the man with blaster, and saw a look of sheer terror cross the man's face for a split second before a solid mass of fur flashed through the air, slamming into the man like a living avalanche.
The blaster went flying, and Tycho dove to retrieve it , as he heard the sickening crack of shattering bones behind him. Not bothering to look to discover the fate of the man he had been fighting, nor the identity of his rescuer, the now armed Tycho took aim and fired three quick blasts into the man who, Tycho discovered, was trying to skewer Jesina with her own blade. The third and final assailant took off at a run, an awkward gait following Jesina's kick. Tycho let the man go, certain that he no longer posed any threat, and turned to look at what was left of the man who had grabbed him. He was clearly dead, one arm torn nearly entirely off, and his neck at an impossible angle for a living being.
Holstering his blaster, he ran to Jesina, who had just pushed the body of her attacker off of her, where he'd fallen when Tycho shot him. She stood shakily, with his support, and they both turned to see their savior.
Tycho's jaw dropped. The being to whom he owed his life stood more than two meters tall. It was a Wookie. He'd had a lot of experience with the alien race; the Empire had found use for the strong, mechanically inclined beings as slaves. As it moved into the light, Tycho could see that it was covered in black fur, broken only by streaks of brown and gray. He could also see the marks that identified it as a former slave -- there were slashes that cut through the being's fur where he could see bare flesh, from too many beatings with an energy whip.
"Kowladda!" Jesina exclaimed, eyes widening in grateful recognition. "Am I glad to see you!" She took a step forward, but faltered and fell to her knees.
Tycho knelt beside her and wouldn't allow her to stand. "No. You won't make it back to the ship like this," he told her gently. "I'll carry you."
But the Wookie -- Kowladda, he reminded himself -- pushed him aside. He guessed that the gesture was meant to be a gentle one, but it still sent him sprawling. As Tycho got to his feet, he saw that their rescuer had Jesina in his -- or was it her? -- arms, and was apparently waiting for Tycho to act as guide.
Well, that wasn't going to work. He glanced at Jesina and opened his mouth, but from the way her head lolled against the furry chest, he knew she'd passed out. Probably she was hurt worse than she'd ever admit.
He looked helplessly at the Wookie. Finally he asked, "Do you understand Basic?"
The being whuffled and nodded its large head. "Good. Then you'll understand when I say I don't know where to go?"
It nodded again and gave a low growl. Finally, it turned without a word and began to walk away, Jesina cradled in its arms. As he ran to catch up to -- and keep up with -- Kowladda, Tycho realized quickly that the Wookie was taking them down a road he hadn't seen before. The buildings they were passing were gradually becoming more and more dilapidated than the ones he'd seen already -- if that were even possible.
Finally it stopped in front of one of the most ill-cared-for buildings Tycho thought he'd ever seen in his life. There was no door in front, just a frame that indicated that there had been one there at one time. The only light was from a post about fifty meters away, so he couldn't make out much more than slight shadows. Shrugging uneasily, he followed Kowladda inside.
With one hand the Wookie slapped at the wall, and a dim light in the corner of the main room came on. Kowladda gently placed Jesina on the sagging sofa against the rear wall, and disappeared from the room. Looking around and growing ever more doubtful about their chances of getting off this moon with each of them in one piece, Tycho walked over and perched beside Jesina.
He lifted her head slowly and ran a hand underneath. He felt a lump beginning to form, and his hand came away wet and slick with blood. He shook his head. Maybe it was a good thing that she'd passed out. This way he actually knew how badly she'd been hurt.
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 5: Altercation
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Tycho walked silently beside Jesina as she led him back to the ship. He was following her automatically -- he didn't want to get lost on this damned moon -- but his mind was too full of a medley of thoughts to really pay much attention.
He couldn't help but rethink his decision to leave the Empire. He couldn't go back now, of course, but he couldn't help but wonder if it was the right choice. Order and discipline had always been driving forces in his life. The military had really been perfect for him. But now, not only had he left the strict regimen of the Imperial Navy, but he was also on the run from the legitimate government he'd served and on his way to joining the outlaw rebel movement he'd been fighting against only weeks earlier. Provided that Bothan didn't decide to space him on the way to wherever they were heading.
He couldn't help but wonder how he'd fit in. He couldn't imagine the rebels being nearly as structured as the Empire had been, so that alone would be a major change in his life. But that was not his only concern.
He was an Imperial. As much as he hated to admit it, he was. Or, at least, he had been. How would the Rebels look at him? Would they distrust him as much as Gil'fra had?
A firm grip on his arm yanked him out of his thoughts. "I'm fine, Jes," he began to say automatically, before realizing that the person holding onto him was definitely not Jesina. He realized it too late, though -- as one arm snaked around his throat, another grabbed his blaster from the holster on his hip.
A few meters ahead he could just make out Jesina, in a similar position, struggling wildly against two attackers, both human. They had already disarmed her of both her blaster and the vibroblade on her leg, and were trying to pin her against the wall of the alley, their lecherous grins telling Tycho all he needed to know about their plans for his old friend. "Stop struggling boy, you do what we say and you just might get out of this alive." The gravelly voice of his attacker grated in Tycho's ear. The man clearly knew a thing or two about fighting, and had both of Tycho's arms pinned behind him. "All we want are your credits. Well that's all we want from you; looks like my buddies have other plans for your friend." His voice trailed off into a quiet cackle of laughter, and Tycho saw that Jesina would not be able to fight off both attackers for long, her arms held as they were.
With a cry of rage and frustration, Tycho slammed his head backwards connecting solidly with his attackers face. Stunned for a moment, the man loosened his grip on Tycho long enough for him to make a grab for his blaster, which was still in his attacker's hand. The man had recovered however, and fought wildly to hold onto the blaster.
The two men, both gripping the same weapon, soon crashed to the ground, each trying to wrestle the gun away from the other. Blaster bolts splayed wildly across the wall on the far side of the alley, as the weapon went off repeatedly in the struggle. Tycho was unable to see where they struck, for he was whipped around the opposite way, as the two continued to roll along the ground striving for the upper hand in this struggle for the weapon.
* * * * * * *
Several bolts narrowly missed ending Jesina's struggle as they exploded into the wall mere inches from her face. The blasts did manage to startle one of her opponents long enough for her to lash out with her left leg, connecting solidly with the man's groin and removing him from the fight -- at least temporarily. Unable to regain her balance on one leg, with the second thug still struggling to hold her arms, she fell, hard, crashing into the duracrete pavement. The weight of her assailant falling on top of her forced the air from her lungs.
Her attacker took immediate advantage of the situation, and with her momentarily stunned he let go of one of her arms, and hit her with a devastating right hook. As her head snapped back, cracking against the hard ground, her vision darkened for a moment, and she was left dizzy. When she managed to regain her senses a moment later, the would-be robber had her discarded vibroblade in hand, and was bringing it down toward her chest, intending to impale her with her own weapon.
Jesina made a desperate grab, attempting to push the weapon up and to the side, to avoid the dangerous blade, but her assailant was too strong and all she could manage was a stalemate, which she knew she could not maintain for long. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the man she had kicked regaining his feet tentatively. No, she could not maintain this long at all.
* * * * * * *
Tycho struggled with all his might to wrest the weapon away, but he could tell it was a losing battle. Recovered now from Tycho's initial head butt, the attacker was beginning to gain the advantage, being physically much stronger than Tycho. Tycho now spent more time simply trying to keep the barrel of the blaster pointed away from his body than trying to actually wrench away the weapon.
With a sudden heave from the attacker, Tycho's grip on the weapon faltered, and before he could make another grab for the blaster, the assailant lashed out, striking Tycho's temple with the barrel of the gun and sending him to his knees. The attacker, enraged now, with blood flowing freely from his probably broken nose, took aim at Tycho, intending to end this here and now.
From behind the Alderaanian, suddenly the air erupted with a primal howl that shook Tycho to his very bones. Surprised that he was not yet dead, Tycho looked at the man with blaster, and saw a look of sheer terror cross the man's face for a split second before a solid mass of fur flashed through the air, slamming into the man like a living avalanche.
The blaster went flying, and Tycho dove to retrieve it , as he heard the sickening crack of shattering bones behind him. Not bothering to look to discover the fate of the man he had been fighting, nor the identity of his rescuer, the now armed Tycho took aim and fired three quick blasts into the man who, Tycho discovered, was trying to skewer Jesina with her own blade. The third and final assailant took off at a run, an awkward gait following Jesina's kick. Tycho let the man go, certain that he no longer posed any threat, and turned to look at what was left of the man who had grabbed him. He was clearly dead, one arm torn nearly entirely off, and his neck at an impossible angle for a living being.
Holstering his blaster, he ran to Jesina, who had just pushed the body of her attacker off of her, where he'd fallen when Tycho shot him. She stood shakily, with his support, and they both turned to see their savior.
Tycho's jaw dropped. The being to whom he owed his life stood more than two meters tall. It was a Wookie. He'd had a lot of experience with the alien race; the Empire had found use for the strong, mechanically inclined beings as slaves. As it moved into the light, Tycho could see that it was covered in black fur, broken only by streaks of brown and gray. He could also see the marks that identified it as a former slave -- there were slashes that cut through the being's fur where he could see bare flesh, from too many beatings with an energy whip.
"Kowladda!" Jesina exclaimed, eyes widening in grateful recognition. "Am I glad to see you!" She took a step forward, but faltered and fell to her knees.
Tycho knelt beside her and wouldn't allow her to stand. "No. You won't make it back to the ship like this," he told her gently. "I'll carry you."
But the Wookie -- Kowladda, he reminded himself -- pushed him aside. He guessed that the gesture was meant to be a gentle one, but it still sent him sprawling. As Tycho got to his feet, he saw that their rescuer had Jesina in his -- or was it her? -- arms, and was apparently waiting for Tycho to act as guide.
Well, that wasn't going to work. He glanced at Jesina and opened his mouth, but from the way her head lolled against the furry chest, he knew she'd passed out. Probably she was hurt worse than she'd ever admit.
He looked helplessly at the Wookie. Finally he asked, "Do you understand Basic?"
The being whuffled and nodded its large head. "Good. Then you'll understand when I say I don't know where to go?"
It nodded again and gave a low growl. Finally, it turned without a word and began to walk away, Jesina cradled in its arms. As he ran to catch up to -- and keep up with -- Kowladda, Tycho realized quickly that the Wookie was taking them down a road he hadn't seen before. The buildings they were passing were gradually becoming more and more dilapidated than the ones he'd seen already -- if that were even possible.
Finally it stopped in front of one of the most ill-cared-for buildings Tycho thought he'd ever seen in his life. There was no door in front, just a frame that indicated that there had been one there at one time. The only light was from a post about fifty meters away, so he couldn't make out much more than slight shadows. Shrugging uneasily, he followed Kowladda inside.
With one hand the Wookie slapped at the wall, and a dim light in the corner of the main room came on. Kowladda gently placed Jesina on the sagging sofa against the rear wall, and disappeared from the room. Looking around and growing ever more doubtful about their chances of getting off this moon with each of them in one piece, Tycho walked over and perched beside Jesina.
He lifted her head slowly and ran a hand underneath. He felt a lump beginning to form, and his hand came away wet and slick with blood. He shook his head. Maybe it was a good thing that she'd passed out. This way he actually knew how badly she'd been hurt.