Title: A New Path

Summary: Tycho Celchu's journey from the Empire to the Alliance.

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 10: Formerly of the Imperial TIE Fighter Corps

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"You all right?" Jesina asked Tycho.

He leaned against the wall. "You just told me that I'm liable to end up flying with someone I flew against, whose squadron I had kills on. Do you really think I'm all right?"

"No, but…" she trailed off as his comlink beeped at him.

"Celchu."

"Lieutenant, report to the simulator room at 1730." Tycho had been tentatively accepted by the Alliance, after undergoing a thorough questioning by General Cracken. He was keeping his Imperial rank and Narra had been charged with running him on the simulators. He was also going to continue to use his black flight suit. They'd burned his Imperial dress uniform back on Thyferra, but he'd kept the flight suit in case he needed it.

"Understood. Celchu out." He dropped the comlink back into his pocket and then turned sheepishly to Jesina. "Where's the simulator room?"

She laughed at the look on his face. "Come on. I'll show you. Wedge and the others are supposed to be there," she glanced at her chrono, "now. Narra probably wanted to warn them that they're about to have an Imp in their midst."

"Imp?" he repeated, eyebrow raised.

She grinned, glad he'd relaxed a little despite what he was potentially heading for. "Get used to it. Imps, eyeballs, squints – rebel lingo."

Tycho's good mood disappeared as they approached the sim room. "I've never been so nervous in my life," he murmured.

Jesina stopped and faced him. "Tycho, it's going to be fine. Wedge knows everything, and he's fine with it – he even knows about Kien'tol." She started walking again. "Skywalker's too new to the game to have developed any real hatred of Imperials. Janson's the only real potential problem, and I think Wedge and Skywalker can keep him in line – even without help from Narra – as long as no one tells him about Kien'tol. And Hobbie used to be an Imp, so—"

"Hobbie?" he interrupted. "Klivian? Derek Klivian?" His voice betrayed relief and…excitement?

She nodded. "You know him?"

"We trained together. I thought he was dead. They told us the Rand Ecliptic had been destroyed."

Jesina shook her head. "Imperial misinformation. That's their greatest strength, you know. It wasn't destroyed. They defected – all of them, except for one or two."

"I don't believe it."

"Believe it."

He looked thoughtful. "Did you ever meet a man named Biggs Darklighter? He was assigned to the Ecliptic. He and Hobbie and I got to be friends at the Academy."

"Yes." She bit her lip. "He flew with Red Group at Yavin. I'm sorry. I wish I'd known you knew him. I'd have told you sooner."

He glanced away, but then looked back to her. "It's not your fault."

The rest of the walk was in silence. Tycho thought about the last time he'd seen Klivian and Darklighter, and about when his CO had told those who'd been at the Academy with them that the Ecliptic had fallen to a Rebel attack. They'd done a great job of stirring up anger at the Alliance among the pilots – most of whom, before hand, hadn't really had anything against the rebels.

Most of the people he'd served with under the Empire hadn't hated the Rebels. They hadn't joined the Empire to fight Rebels. A lot of them had come from tough lives and were just looking to get out, to make something of themselves. None of them wanted power, and they only fought the Rebellion because it was their job – and because the Alliance pilots came after them.

Their instructors at the Academy knew that, and their COs did, too. Some left them to think whatever they wanted, but most did their best to create animosity toward the Rebels. And they usually succeeded.

Jesina tapping him on the shoulder brought him out of his thoughts. "We're here. You ready?"

"Saying no wouldn't get me out of it, would it?"

"Not in the least." She opened the door, pasted an incredibly false but cheerful smile on her face, and walked inside, dragging him along with her. The other pilots were already assembled. "Commander Narra," she said as she approached them, "This is Lieutenant Tycho Celchu, formerly of the Imperial TIE Fighter Corps." Tycho gave him a perfect salute.

Narra looked the newcomer over for a moment. His stature absolutely screamed Imperial, though that could just as easily be attributed to his upbringing – an Alderaanian noble, Cracken had said. He was very nervous, although he had good reason, if what Antilles had told him was true. Finally, after deciding he'd made the man sweat enough, he returned the salute and held out his hand. "Good to meet you, Celchu. Glad you finally saw sense."

He turned to the other men. "Celchu, Lieutenants Antilles, Skywalker, Janson, and Klivian."

Tycho glanced at each man in turn, and held out his hand. Antilles – this was Jesina's friend, the one she'd said was okay – shook his hand, as did Skywalker – the one who hadn't been in it long enough to hate Imperials. Janson did as well, but nearly broke his hand in the process. Tycho didn't mistake the message disguised in the handshake. And Klivian. He turned to his friend last, who pulled him into a hug. "I knew you'd wake up eventually." Jesina, from her position near the doorway, which she'd retreated to after her introduction, hid a grin.

Tycho offered him a sad smile as they separated. "Too bad it took such a tragedy."

"Don't blame yourself," Hobbie offered, knowing there was nothing he could say that would really make a difference.

Narra had stood back during their little reunion but cleared his throat now. "Celchu, have you had any experience in x-wings?"

"Sims only," he said, reluctant to go into any further detail, seeing as how he'd flown x-wing sims to give his squadron mates practice in shooting down the enemy fighters.

"You think you remember everything?"

"It's been a while," he admitted.

"All right. I'm going to put you in an x-wing. They'll be flying against you in TIEs." He turned to Hobbie. "Klivian, get him set up. Make sure he knows the controls. Then get yourself set up. Antilles, Skywalker, get into the sims. Janson, I'd like a word with you." He motioned the Tanaabian toward the door, away from the others.

Janson stood ill at ease in front of his new commanding officer. "Lieutenant, I've heard quite a bit about you. A lot of it good. Some of it not so much. I saw the glares you fixed Antilles and Klivian with, and I saw your stunt with Celchu just now. I want to make one thing clear from the get-go. Can it. If I like Celchu for this squadron – and I expect I will – he stays. And you stay. And you get over it. Do I make myself clear?"

It was a moment before Janson found his voice. Oh, he'd been dressed down by COs before, but not like this. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Now, I suggest you get whatever's going on with you out of your system by the end of this simulation. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

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Tycho popped the door of the simulator and climbed out. He saw Skywalker and Antilles doing the same. "Nice flying," Skywalker congratulated him, clapping him on the back.

"You still vaped me."

"He's a Jedi," Wedge interrupted. "He's supposed to."

"You did well," Narra said. "Very well, for your first real time out."

"Yeah, you got both of us," Hobbie said, from where he stood next to a very sullen Janson.

"I have to admit," Tycho said, "You were better than I expected. I mean, I've flown against Alliance squadrons and I've seen how good they can be, but the instructors at the Academy did as much as they could to convince us that no one can match Imperial pilots."

"That's to their detriment," Narra said. "That's part of why so many Imperial pilots don't make it past their first few battles – they're so sure that no one can beat them, that no one's that good, that they get cocky and get themselves killed."

Jesina approached and nodded. "You've seen that firsthand, I'm sure."

"Yes, I have. I noticed that the few times we came up against Rebel squadrons. They tended to be more cautious, more defensive than our people – than the Imps," it felt so strange to use that word, "did – and more of the Rebels usually survived."

Narra nodded, pleased with Celchu's observations. "All right. I'm not through with you, but if you keep this up, Celchu, I think you'll do well in this squadron." He glanced at Janson to see his reaction. The pilot scowled but said nothing. "Get some rest, all of you, and report back here at 0700 tomorrow morning. By then some of our other pilots should have arrived."