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 14: Too Late for That
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Jesina was standing by the window when she heard the sirens from the nearby base. Frowning, she spun on her heel and headed for the door. "What is that?" she asked her assistant.
The man scowled at her. "It means there are rebels in the system. The base will be sending up fighters to chase them off. There aren't any capital ships in the area."
She regarded him suspiciously. "How do you know that much?"
The man rolled his eyes. "Because the base sends us security briefings periodically, ma'am," he replied, turning back to his work.
She frowned at him but nodded and went back into her office. Then she returned. "Are they going to attack us?"
"I couldn't say, ma'am," he said testily. "But unless they've brought a few capital ships to bear on us, the base's defenses should be more than sufficient."
Jesina intensified the air of nervousness she'd put on. "Are you sure?"
"Yes, ma'am."
She returned to her office – to stay, this time – and sat down. She'd successfully convinced her assistant that she was some sniveling suit without a brain of her own – and paranoid, to boot. That would make it just that much easier to snoop around without raising any real suspicion. She knew she was running the risk of alienating people who might otherwise be of some help to her, but she also knew that people who thought they were your friends tended to pay a little too much attention to what you did.
She heard the intercom buzz. "Yes."
"Ma'am, your husband is here."
Oh no, she thought. Something's wrong. "Send him in."
Daxon walked in, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot until she said, "It's clean. I scan it myself every morning when I get here, and again if I leave for more than a minute or two. We're okay."
"Your boys are up there."
"What?"
"The reason for the sirens? It's the transport that evacuated Exocron."
"Evacuated? Why?"
"Because your friend Celchu was being tracked – a tracer in his blaster. The Inhibitor showed up but took off because they didn't want to make a move without support, and Alliance personnel were closer than any Imperial backup for them. They evacuated before the Imps came back. They're heading for Lamaredd."
"Why are they coming here?" Jesina muttered, burying her face in her hands. "Are they trying to make things difficult for us?"
"Probably. They're not really big on making things easy."
"Who? The Imperials or Intel?"
"Either."
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"Planetary Defense fighters from Rothana will intercept us in six minutes. Our job is to keep this ship intact until we achieve a new course setting and are outside the planet's gravity well. Unfortunately, we need to cut a direct course across Rothana's gravity shadow to get to where we're headed."
"Why can't we backtrack?" Alak Kesing, Rogue Ten asked.
"We don't have enough fuel. We don't have a choice in the matter. We also don't have enough fuel for a long fight."
Tycho groaned and Janson shot a glance at him. "Get used to it."
Tycho frowned in confusion. Ever since Hobbie's rant in the lounge, Janson had been acting differently toward him. It wasn't friendliness…more like resigned acceptance. He was glad, in a way. He was also paranoid, halfway expecting Janson to come up behind him and put a blaster bolt in his back. Or maybe he'd decided to wait and let some Imperial who got a lucky shot do his dirty work.
"This is the real thing, boys. Any questions?"
They all shook their heads and headed for their ships, Tycho casting glances at Wes as they ran. The other man never looked at him.
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"Is there a way we can monitor what's happening up there?"
"Not really," Daxon replied. "I got a communication through channels, but I won't be getting another one. Unless…"
"Unless what?"
"Unless we can tap into the base's systems."
"Can you do that? I can't. I'm not a slicer by any means."
"I can. But I don't know if it's worth the risk. If I try it, there's a chance they'll detect it and trace it. They wouldn't be able to trace it directly to us, but it'll give them a reason to look."
"And that means trouble."
"Yeah." She sighed. "I guess we'll have to just sit tight and wait for another communiqué."
"Or wait for news from the base."
"No." She shook her head. "I can already tell you what the news from the base will be. It'll be skewed to favor them. Besides, they won't be able to tell us any specifics." Specifics were what she was concerned about. Specifically, Wedge, Tycho, Janson and Hobbie. "I hate being in the dark," she muttered.
"Get used to it. That's kind of how we do things in Intel."
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Tycho throttled forward, banking hard to starboard to avoid a shower of laser fire that ended up hitting another TIE fighter that had been heading straight for him. He saw the fighter explode from the friendly fire.
"Keep that up," Tycho muttered. "It'll make it easier on us. That many fewer of you."
Wedge found himself only half concentrating on the battle. He didn't want to admit it, but he was worried that if Celchu got in trouble, Janson wouldn't bail him out. He hoped – and mostly believed – that Janson wasn't that callous – but he wasn't a hundred percent sure.
Apparently, Hobbie had noticed that his mind wasn't on the fight. "Break to port, Three," he shouted. "Where the Sith is your brain, Three?" he muttered.
"Sorry, four. Take a guess," he replied.
"Yeah, I know, but they're doing all right."
Wedge was glad they were on their private frequency. Narra would have a fit if he could hear this. As it was, he was probably in for it anyway. Narra must have noticed that he wasn't exactly focused.
He switched back over to the squadron frequency just in time to hear Dix Rivian, twelve, swear. "Shavit!"
Then Narra's voice came across. "Get back to the ship," he ordered, and Wedge experienced a sense of déjà vu as Dix apologized and banked away, smoke streaming from his astromech. "Cover him, Dodonna. Make sure he stays in one piece. We're almost there, people. Hold on another few minutes."
Wedge glanced out toward the planet. The path they'd taken brought them nearly into Rothana's atmosphere. He almost wished they were in the atmosphere. TIEs lost a lot of their maneuverability in atmosphere. They could use the help. Their squadron hadn't lost anyone but the other squad they were traveling with had taken heavy losses – they were down to seven.
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Jesina was staring up at the darkening sky. Even though it was still somewhat light out, she could see flashes from the battle and hoped fervently that none of those flashes signaled the death of any of her friends. "Is it terrible of me to really hope only for the safety of the few that I know up there?"
They were out on the balcony of her office, at the very corner of the building. Daxon doubted anyone could hear them, but was glad she was speaking softly just the same. Daxon shook his head. "I think that's how most of us look at it. You know people are going to die, and you feel for them and their families, but you hope that it won't be you suffering. Don't blame yourself for that. Be glad you still feel anything at all."
"If I ever stopped feeling, I think I'd quit."
"That's what everyone says. But look at Cracken. You don't think he started out the way he is now, do you?"
"I hadn't thought of it that way," she admitted.
"Don't. You'll get cynical before your time," Daxon replied.
She looked up and saw another flash of light from the fight. "I think it's too late for that."
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A warning alarm drew Tycho's attention to his scanner, and he swore. Someone had snuck up him and locked on. He went into a steep dive and broke the lock but couldn't shake his pursuer. "A little help, seven?"
No response. Where the Sith is he? He brought his fighter around and started just as steep a climb, and then broke to port, but his pursuer stayed with him. Juking to starboard he broke another target lock and swore when the other pilot locked onto him again. For a planetary security pilot, this guy was good. "Blast, seven, where are you?"