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 11: Be Careful
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Two days later, at breakfast with a handful the pilots in the new squadron – Hobbie, Wedge, Janson, and a couple of others whose names he hadn't gotten straight yet – something happened that made Tycho rank joining the Alliance just above joining the Empire as one of the worst mistakes he'd ever made.
"Who were you stationed with?" Hobbie asked him around a mouthful of some unidentifiable substance.
Tycho hesitated, think back to his conversation with Jesina. "I don't want to talk about it." He glanced quickly at Janson and turned back to his food.
Not soon enough, though. Janson noticed. "No, who were you stationed with, Celchu?"
Tycho's eyes narrowed. Janson was baiting him and he knew it. "I said I don't want to talk about it."
"Yeah, I heard you the first time," Janson said off-handedly. Then he asked, "Why don't you want to talk about it?"
"Lay off, Janson," Wedge said warningly.
"No. He's hiding something and I want to know what it is."
"Janson, it's his business," Hobbie defended his friend. "If I'd seen any fighting before Biggs and I came over, I wouldn't want to talk about it either." Tycho stood to leave as he finished his sentence.
Janson grabbed his arm. "You know what? I don't think it is just his business. How about it, Celchu? What are you hiding?" He was centimeters from Tycho's face.
Tycho shoved him back. Despite what Jesina had said, he'd had enough of Wes Janson. "I was with the Inhibitor at Kien'tol." He managed – a miracle, no doubt – to keep his voice controlled, though his body was shaking with pent-up anger. "I was leader for two flight of the second squadron. We were the first flight in against your squadron. Is that what you wanted to hear?" Now he was shouting.
Hobbie and Wedge, who'd gotten to their feet the moment the confrontation became physical, froze where they stood – Hobbie because he hadn't known and Wedge because he hadn't expected it to come out. Not like this, anyway.
Janson wasn't frozen though. And, luckily, neither was Tycho, who just barely blocked the fist heading for his face. "Don't," he said, his voice taking on a dangerous edge, pushing Janson away once more and leaving the mess hall.
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"Captain Dreis, what would you say to a position within Alliance Intelligence?" General Cracken asked her.
Jesina regarded him coolly. She'd meant everything she'd told Wedge, Hobbie, Janson, and Skywalker about him. She didn't trust him in the least, but she didn't want to get on his bad side either. "I'd ask why."
He studied the datapad he was holding for a moment. It was an empty gesture, as he already knew everything the record contained and more besides. "Born on Alderaan, but left for Corellia at fifteen. Highly respected within Booster Terrik's…organization…by the age of eighteen. Running supplies for the Alliance by nineteen, and left Terrik entirely at age twenty-one. You have combat qualifications on a number of hand weapons, x-wings, y-wings, and Z-95 headhunters, and have logged a significant number of hours piloting TIE-fighters, Lambda-class shuttles, and a combat-ready YT-2400 freighter. Do you still wonder why you're of interest to Intelligence?"
"Yes."
"Your contacts would prove invaluable, and your skills would be a great asset."
"Antilles has the same skills, and just as many contacts." Not that she could see Wedge as a spy.
Apparently, neither could Cracken. "Antilles is best left where he is. He is more…useful there."
She frowned, not because of what he'd said about Wedge, but because of the whole proposition. She might not be able to see Wedge as a spy, but she wasn't certain she could see herself that way either. "I'll think about it."
"Tell no one," Cracken told her sternly.
"Don't worry about me. I can keep a secret. But then, you wouldn't be asking me to do Intel work if you didn't already know that." She left then, unnerved at having been in the presence of a man who knew more about her than she felt she did about herself. It wasn't exactly the most comfortable situation to be in.
When she reached her quarters, Tycho was standing outside. His face was flushed and he was scowling at the wall. "Tycho?"
He looked up at her, smiled briefly, but then scowled again a moment later, just as she heard footsteps behind her. Turning, she saw Janson coming their way. "I'm not through with you, Celchu."
Jesina keyed in her room's access code and said softly, "Go in." Tycho shot one last look at Janson before doing as she said and closing the door behind him.
"What's the problem, Janson?"
"I'm going to break your boyfriend in half."
"First off, he's not my boyfriend, though he is someone I'm very protective of. Second, Wedge and I both figured that if you two were ever to go ten rounds, you'd win. But right now, I change my bet. As angry as you are, you haven't got anything on him."
"The hell I don't."
"Your quarters. Now." She followed him down the corridor and around a corner until he stopped at a door. "Inside."
Once the door was locked, she turned to face him, giving him a hard shove onto the bed. "What's your problem?"
"You expect me to fly with someone who tried to kill me?"
She wondered briefly how he'd found out. Knowing Janson, he'd probably pushed Tycho until he lost it. But right now, how he'd found out didn't matter. What mattered was how she – and Wedge, who was in this too, after all – were going to keep them from killing each other. "You were on opposite sides, Janson. He flew against your squadron. What do you want from him? He was doing his job; you were doing yours. He's since realized that he was on the wrong side. But don't hold against him what he did then. He never believed in the Empire. He's always wanted to change it, but he didn't think fighting to bring it down militarily was the right way. Alderaan made him realize that it was the only way."
"He flew against me."
"He flew against your squadron."
"No. He flew. Against. Me."
"What?"
"He led the first flight into the battle. I remember which he was. He killed my wingman, and flew against me."
Jesina let out a low whistle. This was worse than they'd thought. "Wes, he was doing his job. You can't hold that against him – you can't hold it against any Imperial, once they've defected. Or else we'll end up with fewer and fewer people on our side and more staying with the Empire not because they believe in it but because they've got nowhere else to go. Tycho almost didn't come with me, because Eskrit gave him such a hard time."
"You shouldn't have pushed him," Janson remarked, and Jesina's eyes narrowed to slits. She'd had enough.
"You listen to me right now, Janson. You leave him alone. You obey orders, you fly with him, and you get over it. Wedge knows about this, Narra knows about this, and I'm willing to bet that your whole damn squadron will soon enough. So watch yourself. Because if you start something that he can't finish, I'll finish it." She and Janson were hardly the best of friends, but he knew her well enough to be able to tell when she meant business. "And," she added, "you can rest assured that I'll be having a nice long talk with Narra about this." She smiled sweetly and left before she hit him.
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By 1700, all the new pilots had arrived and Narra was satisfied enough with their performance to actually call them a squadron. "All right, here's the roster. I'm one. Senesca is two. Antilles and Klivian are three and four. Skywalker and Moor are five and six. Seven is Janson, and eight is Celchu." He looked over at Tycho, who looked sick, and Janson, who seemed almost to be shooting blaster bolts at Tycho with his eyes. Ralter is nine, Kesing is ten, Dodonna is eleven, and Rivian is twelve. I lead one flight, Skywalker leads two, and Ralter leads three. Any problems?" Without giving anyone a chance to say a word he went on, "Get over it."
He glanced back at his datapad. "We're being designated as Rogue Squadron which, given the makeup of this squadron, is, I think, a more than fitting name. I'm not going to run you on sims yet. First thing tomorrow, though, at 0600, I want you all here and ready to run. Plan on it all day, with only a break for lunch. So I suggest you get some rest tonight. Dismissed."
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Jesina looked up as Tycho appeared in her doorway. He frowned. "You're leaving?" he asked, waving a hand at the clothes strewn over her cot and the suitcase on the floor.
"Early tomorrow morning. I might still be here when you get up, but I doubt it."
"Why?"
"Nothing special. Just a supply run. Or something like that." The truth was, Cracken had come to her with a little incentive. An x-wing squadron had just been wiped out. Intelligence had set them up to ambush a patrol squad from an Imperial-class destroyer but severely underestimated the firepower the Imps had in-system. It had only taken his comment, "This is why we need more people. So men like Antilles, Celchu, and the others don't die because of our mistakes," to convince her. She knew she'd been played, but she also knew he was right. And he already had an assignment for her.
"When will I see you again?"
"I'm not sure. Whenever I end up in your part of the galaxy. You're still technically considered a training squadron, so you'll be here for a while. I don't know where you'll be after that, but enough people," she really meant Cracken, "owe me that I'll be able to pull a few strings to keep track of you." She hated not telling him what was going on, but didn't have much choice. She'd been a smuggler long enough to know that it was a lot like Intel work. The more you knew about everyone else, the better off you were, and the less everyone else knew about you, the better off you were.
Tycho sighed. "I was hoping I could spend more time with you." She'd been his closest friend since they were kids, and he hated that they saw each other so rarely.
"Who do you think you're kidding? You just don't want to face Janson without me to hide behind," she said teasingly.
"Y'know, about that – Hobbie's going to miss you more than I will, I bet, because now he's going to be the one in the middle."
Jesina shook her head. "He has my sympathy." But then she smiled. "You two will get along eventually. Whose idea do you think it was for you to fly together?"
Tycho's eyes widened. "You…" he sputtered.
"Well, Wedge, Narra and I had a nice little chat."
"Maybe it's a good thing you're leaving, before you get me into any more trouble," he muttered, not fully recovered.
"You get into enough trouble on your own. You don't need me."
"Exactly. So why do you enjoy helping me get into trouble so much?"
She shrugged. "Boredom?"
He rolled his eyes and threw a pillow at her. "You're a pain, you know that?"
"Of course. But seriously now. It'll get better – as long as you all live long enough to give it a chance. So be careful, okay?"
"I will. You too."
"Always."