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 16: Secrets
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"You two impressed me out there," Narra said from where he sat behind his desk, hands folded on the surface. "I'll admit, I wouldn't mind seeing a little more communication between you two."
"Sorry sir," Tycho murmured and heard Janson echo his words.
Narra waved a hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it. Just work on it. I wasn't surprised. It's what I'd have expected from two men who'd known each other for less than a month – and better than I expected from the two of you."
Tycho remained silent, unsure of how to respond. Apparently, silence was the proper route, because Janson stood quietly as well.
Their CO went on. "I do hope you learned a lesson yesterday."
"Excuse me, sir?" Janson asked.
"Your behavior up to the battle had the rest of the squadron concerned. Antilles nearly got himself killed – if Klivian had had as little concentration as he did, they'd both be dead. And you two were the reason for that."
"I don't think," Janson began, but Narra cut him off.
"I've already spoken to Antilles. You two were where his mind was. Specifically you, Janson. He couldn't quite convince himself that you wouldn't be conveniently not around if Celchu got into trouble. And that seems to me to be almost what happened." He paused. "Was it?"
"Yes, sir," Janson admitted after a long moment, eyes fixed on his boots.
Narra's eyes hardened. "We'll discuss that later. Dismissed."
He watched them leave. He probably shouldn't have said even that much with Celchu standing right there. But he wanted them to settle this out. And this time, if they were going to do it with fists, he wasn't going to stop them. But something told him that wouldn't be their chosen course.
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"Got your records. Wasn't easy, though," Daxon said as Jesina walked into the apartment.
She raised an eyebrow as she draped her jacket over the back of a chair. "You expected it to be?"
Daxon shrugged. "I've done it before. But you didn't tell me this stuff was classified."
She started. "That's because I didn't expect it to be," she said a moment later when she'd recovered. "Why was it classified?"
"That's the interesting thing," he said. "I don't know. I looked it over – hope you don't mind," he paused and she shook her head absently, "but I only saw one thing out of the ordinary. Your friend Janson was disciplined – it was only because of intervention from the top that he wasn't kicked out of our starfighter corps."
Jesina's jaw hit the floor, snatching the datacard away from him with one hand and pulling her datapad out of her bag with the other. Janson was a joker, but she couldn't imagine him doing anything that would get him thrown out. "Did it say for what?"
"Nope. Just that disciplinary review was halted by orders from a superior."
"That's why it's classified. Someone doesn't want anyone to know who intervened." She rested her chin in her hands as the document came up. "But I can't think of anyone high up who would have known Janson at that point in time. I mean, a lot of people know who he is now. But I can't think of anyone then."
"Well, you have a squadron roster there. Any names look key? I don't know enough about starfighter corps to be familiar with the pilots, or who they might know."
She scanned it, occasionally murmuring to herself until she got to Porkins. "Jek Porkins." She sighed. "He died flying with my uncle at Yavin." She frowned. "Only a couple of these people other than Janson are still alive." Then her eyes widened. "Sithspit."
Daxon had been heading to the kitchenette for a drink but stopped and swung around. "What?"
"Did you happen to look at the holos of the squadron members?"
He frowned. "Since when do records include holos?"
"They used to, of people who died at the battle being reported on. But then they stopped doing it a little more than six months ago because it took up so much memory. It was kind of a memorial thing." She pushed the datapad over to him. "Look."
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"What changed?"
Janson looked up and found Celchu staring at him from about a meter away, leaning against the wall. "What?"
"If I followed the conversation with Narra earlier, you were planning on leaving me on my own. What changed?"
Janson looked down again. For the first time since they'd been introduced, he truly felt ashamed of his behavior. And he figured that that was what the commander had been going for. "You trusted me to help you out. Even though you shouldn't have." Then he gathered his things together and headed back to his quarters.
Tycho watched him go, lost in thought. So lost in thought, in fact, that he jumped when Hobbie spoke to him. The Raltiirian stepped back, eyebrow raised. "You okay?"
"Yeah, I was just thinking."
"About Wes?"
"Yeah."
"He challenge you to a duel?"
"No." Tycho paused and glanced at the doorway before looking back at his friend. "I actually think we're going to be okay."
Hobbie didn't hide his surprise. "Why?"
Tycho shrugged. "I'm not really sure. I just…I don't think Janson's problem was me." He was thinking about the other man's comment about trust. There was something there, something Janson hadn't said. If he could figure out what, maybe Janson would make a little more sense to him. He wouldn't bet on it, though.
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Jesina rested her elbows on her knees. "You think Cracken will let me quit Intel?"
"Probably not."
"Damn."
"Yeah."
She exhaled slowly and ran a hand through her hair, frowning at the strands that fell into her eyes. "I hate being blonde." Then she thought about what she'd done to Tycho to bring him to Nar Shaddaa and decided it could be worse.
"What do I do?"
"Keep doing what you're doing until we find out what's going on. I don't think there's anything else we can do."
"We need to finish this. Quickly. If we don't, we might not finish it at all."
"Yeah, but how. We have no idea who the defector is." Then she raised her head. "I know what I'm going to do. I was getting sick of this Ilina person anyway. She's really not my style." She stood abruptly. "I have something to figure out. See if you can find out anything else about this…whatever." She tapped the screen with her fingertip and left the room.
He frowned after her, feeling uneasy about her words. Either this woman was going to do exceptionally well in intelligence or she wouldn't last a week. She was intelligent and gutsy, both of which were great characteristics in this line of work. But he got the sense that she didn't much like waiting around for things to happen. And that could get her killed – and him with her.