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 23: Return

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"Dreis just landed."

Tycho looked up from the datapad he'd been frowning at and saw Janson standing in the doorway. "Seriously?"

Janson nodded. "I just came from the hangar – checking out some wiring on that blasted…" he trailed off, and Tycho nodded. They'd gotten caught in one of the ice storms that seemed to hit this planet daily, and ever since then they'd been having some difficulty with their fighters.

Standing, he tossed the datapad on his cot, glad to be rid of it. "Thanks for letting me know."

Janson nodded to him. "No problem." Then he disappeared, and Tycho headed for the door.

As he walked through the ice-walled corridors of Echo Base, the Rebellion's newest outpost, located on the ball of snow and ice that was the planet Hoth, he thought about the other pilot. Whatever Janson had talked to Jesina about, it had made a difference in the Tanaabian's attitude toward him. They seemed to have a tentative truce, though things were still occasionally tense between them.

Especially anytime someone brought up Jesina.

Tycho didn't know what it was. He was by no means interested in any kind of relationship with Jesina – they'd tried that once and it'd been a mistake. He just…just didn't want to see her with Janson.

And he didn't know why. He didn't have anything against Janson, not really. It was just an irrational concern, made worse because of the fact that, since they'd learned that Jes was headed their way, Janson had seemed to look forward to her arrival more than even he had himself.

Jesina was talking to a mechanic, making angry gestures toward the Nightwind. He wondered idly what could have happened to it to put her in this mood. She always kept it in perfect shape. It was her pride and joy.

He came up behind her just as the mechanic nodded and walked off. "Hello there."

She spun around, throwing her arms around him. "Force, it's good to see you again!" she said into his neck.

He hugged her, lifting her slightly off the ground. "Good to see you, too," he said, laughing at her enthusiasm. As she finally drew back, he held her at arm's length and studied her for a moment. She'd always been small, but she seemed even thinner than she'd been when he'd seen her last. It might just have been an illusion because of the heavy clothing she was wearing, but he doubted it. Her hair was shorter and lighter, with reddish highlights running through it. Her face was pale, but her eyes and smile were just as bright. Still, something seemed…off…about her. "You okay?"

Her smile widened. "I'm just fine."

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Wes heard the door chime and dragged himself up out of bed. He'd spent the morning combing over his fighter and the last two hours filling out reports for Narra and Luke. He'd only been laid down…he glanced at the chrono…seven minutes ago. "I'm coming!" he called, not that he thought whoever his visitor was could hear him through the half-meter-thick walls.

He slapped at the panel and his annoyance disappeared as he found himself facing Jesina. He hadn't actually gotten to talk to her in the hangar earlier, and so was glad she stopped by. But all he could think of to say was, "Hey."

She shifted from foot to foot. "Can I come in?"

He frowned, but nodded and stepped back, motioning for her to walk by. "You all right?"

"Um, yeah." She brushed her hair out of her eyes. "I…um…something happened, and I didn't want to go to Tycho because he'll ask questions that I can't answer and I thought that I could talk to you. But now I'm thinking that this was a bad idea, and I'm just gonna go." Jesina headed for the door, but he caught her arm. Turning back, she winced and he let go.

"What—?" he started, but she shook her head and he fell silent.

She unbuttoned her coat and, despite the cold, untucked the bottom of her shirt and lifted it, turning slowly.

Wes' eyes widened as he saw the angry bruises across her torso. Then they narrowed, and his face reddened with anger. "What happened?"

"Let's just say I ran into someone who didn't know how to treat a woman. I…I can't tell you any more than that. But, I…" she trailed off, tears filling her eyes.

He started. He'd known her for a good amount of time now and he couldn't remember ever seeing her cry. He pulled her toward him, more gently this time, and put his arms around her.

They stayed like that for a moment, Jesina near tears but never actually crying. Finally she stepped back, her face flushed with embarrassment. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." He sat down on the cot, and patted the spot next to him, but she didn't take it. "What happened?" he asked again. "Tell me what you can," he added.

"I…" she hesitated. "I got caught at what I was doing; I can't tell you what that was. But I just spent two months sitting in a cell, shackled to a slimy wall wearing, well," she paused again, "a lot less than I am now."

"What…what did they do to you?"

"Generic beatings," she replied, slipping into a more professional mentality. "He…he wasn't trained in torture techniques, so he didn't know what he was doing. Just, well, most of my body looks like my stomach and back do." She met his eyes. "Don't tell Tycho. Please?"

He shook his head. "I won't."

"Thank you."

They lapsed into a silence that was broken when Wes asked her, "How did you get away?"

"One of the guards didn't cuff me quite right. I got myself free, and waited until someone came. Turned out, it was him, the boss. He came in when he didn't see me shackled, and I jumped him. I got his blaster away from him and…I killed him. I shot him three times…the first didn't kill him, but it incapacitated him enough. I didn't have to shoot him again, but…" she trailed off and he realized that she hadn't been so upset about what had happened to her, but about what she'd done.

"Don't second-guess yourself, Jes," he told her, squeezing her hand. He understood what she was thinking – he'd dealt with the same feelings from time to time. Certainly, there were ways to avoid killing the people they fought against. Blasters had stun settings and some fighter classes were equipped with ion cannons. But this was a war and dead men didn't come back to haunt you. The ones you left alive might. "You rely on your instincts, the same as we do. You did what you needed to do. If you second-guess yourself, all you'll do is drive yourself crazy. This way, there's one less crazy man trying to kill us all."

She looked up at him and he could see the uncertainty in her eyes. "I've never doubted myself like this."

"Don't start."

"Wes, I…" she started, but her voice dropped off as she stood on her tiptoes, tentatively pressing her lips against his.

He returned the kiss for a second, but then broke it off, stepping back. "You don't want this, Jes."

"Yes, I do."

"No, you don't. You want to feel better, but you don't want this. You don't want me."

"What makes you think that?" she asked, a mildly shocked expression on her face.

"I…you and Celchu…" he shrugged. "I guess I thought…" he began, but stopped when she burst into laughter.

"Wes…Tycho and I…we don't work together, not like that. We tried, but it was such a mistake." She shook her head and leaned toward him again, trying for a second time to kiss him. But again he stepped back.

"Jes, not now. You're hurting; even I can see that," he muttered self-deprecatingly. "I…I do want this…I'm not an idiot. But not like this, not because you're upset."

For a moment, she just stared at him, confusion written all over her face. Then, her face flushed, she turned and left.

Wes stood there, watching her go. "I'm going to hate myself in the morning."