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.
---------------
Chapter 20: The Hard Part
---------------
Jesina swore as the yacht rocked under a barrage of laser fire. "I can't keep this up much longer!" She opened her comm channels, transmitting a distress call. "Shields?" she yelled over one of the handful of alarms that had gone off in the last three minutes.
Daxon glanced at the monitor just as they took another hit. "Down to…thirteen percent."
"Force!" Kalix exclaimed as yet another blast rocked the ship. Her knuckles were white from clutching the armrests. "We'll be killed."
"No…we…won't," Jesina muttered through gritted teeth. She banked sharply and went into a steep dive almost immediately, without warning to her passengers – neither of whom managed to stay in their seats as their belts snapped open. She just barely did, clinging to the console and locking her legs in place. "Not a single blasted weapon. Not even a turbolaser!" she exclaimed, grimacing at the pain in her leg. Anchoring herself with her feet had been successful, but the strain was aggravating her blaster wound.
"Unidentified yacht, are you in need of assistance?" a voice came over the comm.
She stared at the unit, eyes wide. She knew that voice. She knew it.
"In need of assistance?" Daxon muttered, pulling himself to his feet and helping Kalix up. "What gives you that idea?" He rolled his eyes and slapped at the comm controls. "Yes we are. You offering?"
"Come about to heading three-one-nine at full acceleration. We'll cover you."
"Those are x-wings," Kalix exclaimed as the oncoming fighters came within visual range.
That's who that was. Narra and the Rogues. She didn't use their designations, though. They were being pursued by Imperial-aligned forces and this wasn't a secure channel. "As ordered," she responded.
She did as he said, heading on a direct course away from the pursuing fighters and toward a Victory-class Star Destroyer that suddenly appeared on her scope. She watched as the x-wing fighters swept in behind her, forming a sort of barrier between the yacht and their enemies. "That's the Spirit," Narra's voice came back. "Head straight for it. They're expecting you."
---------------
Faced with Daxon's demand that she let him help her off the yacht once they'd docked with the Spirit, Jesina acquiesced. Her leg really was bothering her, after all. And when she tried to stand on her own in an attempt to get him to leave her be, her leg buckled on her. After that, he'd picked her up and carried her down the boarding ramp. Kalix practically glued herself to his side, unsure of what she was walking into.
Narra was standing at the foot of the boarding ramp, along with the rest of his pilots. Namely, Tycho. Her friend's eyes narrowed and he turned and left, mumbling something to his CO as he went.
Daxon set her down and she leaned against him heavily. She made the introductions and thanked the Rogue officer for his intervention. When the planetary defense pilots had seen the Rogues enter the scene, they'd backed off.
He shook his head. "No thanks necessary. You were the reason we hung around," he told her. "We were told that someone might be in need of our assistance."
"We were," she admitted ruefully. She paused a moment and then asked in a low voice, "Can you get in touch with General Cracken?"
"I'll do what I can, though I have no idea where he is." He looked Jesina over. The fact that she'd been carried from the ship had not gone unnoticed, and her obvious difficulty in standing was, well, obvious. "You're injured."
"You have a gift for understatement," Daxon muttered under his breath. Narra shot him a look and Jesina elbowed him.
"It's not bad."
"Still, you should go to the med center," Narra said, using a tone he normally reserved for command – and for Janson. "Antilles, show them how to get there."
"Yes, sir." Wedge would meet her eyes. She knew he wanted to know what was going on. But there wasn't much she could tell them. She needed time to think of something to tell them both. Something other than the truth.
---------------
"What's going on?" Tycho asked Jesina, arms folded across his chest.
She bent and then straightened her knee. They'd put a large bacta patch over the wound and it was already healing, but her leg kept tightening up. Then she looked up at him. "I told you I had a run to make. And then I stumbled onto Kalix and Daxon."
"Where's the Nightwind?" He knew she loved that ship and would never leave it behind of her own volition.
She sighed, knowing what he was thinking. "Docked on Saylog. I couldn't take her with me, not with your old friends looking for it." She paused "I heard what happened. I bet it didn't exactly endear you to them."
He shook his head. "No. It's been…interesting." He shrugged. "I think Janson and I have reached an understanding. I don't expect him to like me, and he doesn't try to kill me. Or something like that."
Just then Jesina's comlink beeped. "Dreis," she muttered, rolling her eyes at Tycho, who grinned at her, his frustration at not knowing what she was doing momentarily forgotten.
"Captain Dasra would like to speak with you, Mrs. Teshi, and Mr. Coe immediately, Captain Dreis. Please go to the bridge."
"On my way." She smiled apologetically at Tycho and left, hobbling slightly, to make her way to the bridge. She was the last to arrive, and the Captain motioned for the three of them to follow him into his office.
"As it were," he said once they were all seated and the door closed, "General Cracken should be here within the day. Apparently, he was expecting us to pick you up."
"He couldn't have told us that?" Jesina muttered, and Daxon shook his head.
"Of course not. It would have made things easier on us."
"Oh, of course."
---------------
Jesina and Daxon sat quietly, facing Cracken, Kalix in between them. The woman slid her bag across the table to the General. "As I promised Trae."
"Speaking of Trae, I trust his identity has not been compromised."
"If you mean who he really is, no. Daxon and I know, but I have no intention of telling anyone. Not that it matters. Because your agents are both dead."
Surprise flitted across the Intelligence man's face for an instant, but he covered it up just as quickly. "How?" was all he said.
"Lanara was a double agent. She must have sold us out, then they came to defend us and she turned on him. They're both dead," Jesina said again.
Cracken nodded, almost to himself, and Jesina shot Daxon a look bordering on disgust. "Now, what do you have for us?" the general asked.
"Their working on – I was working on – technology to create artificial gravity wells. Basically, developing technology to equip starships with the ability to pull other vessels out of hyperspace, and to keep them from going into hyperspace." She paused. "We call it an interdiction field. It's not yet in the final stage of development, but it will be soon. We know it works."
"And what, precisely, have you brought us?" Cracken asked.
"All my research. Unfortunately, it's not the only copy. It's on every independent terminal in the facility, and on the network. If I'd tried to erase it, I'd have drawn attention to myself. There was just no way."
"Quite unfortunate," was all the general said.
---------------
After four hours of the most frustrating debriefing she'd ever endured, Jesina was wide awake and in a mood to take some of her aggravation out on someone. She knew the perfect target. Without giving it a second thought, she pounded hard on Janson's door.
Wes answered it wearing pajama bottoms and nothing else. He yawned and ran a hand through his hair. "It's…" he glanced at his chrono. "0200 hours," he finished, blinking at the bright light. "What are you doing here?"
She pushed by him and into the room. "I've got a few questions for you. And I want answers." She crossed her arms and tapped her foot on the floor.
He closed the door and turned to face her, blinking again as he turned on the light. "Jes, I got to sleep two hours ago, after being up for nineteen hours. What do you want?" Normally he liked Jesina well enough – liked her more than he planned to admit to anyone – but he didn't like anyone at this hour, no matter who they were, or what they looked like.
"I learned a few things while I was gone. A few very interesting facts about Kien'tol. Like the fact that the records of the battle are classified. And that you came damn close to never flying for the Alliance again. I want to know why."
His annoyance was gone in an instant. His face paled visibly and he sank into a chair. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees and buried his face in his hands. After a long moment he rubbed his hands over his face and then looked up at her, shaking his head.
"Why, Janson? Why did they nearly kick you out? And why didn't they?"
He leaned back in the chair and bit his lip. "I disobeyed an order and three people died because of it."