Star Wars: X-Wing: Lusankya - Chapter Two
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Star Wars characters except those of Akiba Muune, Lieutenant Dysune Tayib, and Captain Falco Avin. All other characters belong to Lucasfilm and their respective authors. I am not making a profit out of this story, it is only written for fans to enjoy.
Summary: Tycho Celchu, son of Alderaan, is sent out to infiltrate Courscant with the highest rating of not coming back alive. This is the recount of his capture aboard Lusankya and his subsequent return to the New Republic under the heavy eye of being a possible spy.
Author’s Warning: This fic is rated R for heavy graphic violence, torture, and imprisonment.
Beep ... beep ... beep ... bee-
A hand suddenly slammed down on the alarm chrono and Tycho opened his eyes, still a bit blurry from sleep and glanced at it. Only five in the morning ... why did I set it then, he thought sleepily as he turned away from the chrono and pulled his covers back over him. He suddenly sat up as he realized what was today. Sithspawn! I’m late! I have to report to the hanger bay in half an hour!
He quickly got out of his bunk and ran to the small refresher station in his room, grabbing the satchel that held some clothes he would wear under the TIE pilot uniform and the vacuum-sealed package with the uniform inside of it.
He came out of the ‘fresher a few minutes later, the flightsuit pulled all the way up to his waist, the top half hanging limply behind him. He grabbed the satchel and two datacards and left his bunkroom. It was fairly quiet in the wee hours of the ship, the night crew getting ready to hit their own sacks while the day crew was just getting ready to start another day. As he walked towards the hanger bay he noticed that a few people were giving him odd looks, some full of distaste, while others gave some hint that they knew that he was going undercover. He tucked the helmet of his flightsuit underneath his arm and adjusted the satchel on his left shoulder.
When he arrived at the rear hanger bay of Home One he noticed tech crews milling around the Advanced TIE Fighter they had captured at Bakura. He made a beeline towards the TIE fighter and climbed halfway up into the sphere-shaped cockpit. He looked around and saw that indeed, every single kind of equipment was jammed into the fighter, leaving him only a little enough room to sit and maneuver a bit. There was just one small space under his seat to fit the satchel he had received and he stuffed it under.
“Captain Celchu!” one of the tech officers called out and Tycho turned to see the head of the tech crew, a middle aged man by the name of Senitin waving him over and he climbed down the ladders that were hooked on the lip of the eyeball’s cockpit.
“Captain,” Senitin greeted then handed him a clipboard with some statistics and paper on it, “this is what we have loaded into your TIE. General Cracken wants you to record as many data as you can about everything orbiting the planet and anything else you can get that might be a danger to the Alliance when they come and take Courscant.”
“As ordered,” Tycho replied then took a quick glance at the advanced eyeball. Someone at Starfighter Command had taken to naming the various TIE designs by silly names, and the “eyeball”, for the TIE fighter had stuck. He didn’t mind the name and it was a bit easier to identify them during combat. “The hyperdrive in the eyeball is ready, right?”
“Yes sir,” Senitin replied then took back the clipboard and touched the rim of his tech cap. “Good luck sir, and May the Force be with you.”
Tycho nodded then climbed up into the cockpit of the fighter. He sat down then slipped on the rest of his flightsuit, zippering it up so that it would be airtight. He felt a bit naked with out the life support system attached to his flightsuit like a normal flightsuit would be, but the TIE fighter had its own internal life support system installed. He closed the hatch to his cockpit and placed the black helmet on, the leather of his gloves squeaking a bit against his helmet.
“Control this is Defender One, do you copy?” Tycho spoke into the headset that was in his helmet.
His comm system crackled to life, “Defender One, Control here. Your exit vector is bearing one-one-two-six. Be sure to make three hyperspace jumps before approaching Coruscant.”
“Copy that Control, Defender One out,” he replied then started up the engine to the eyeball, a semi-familiar whine filling the cockpit. He eased up on the throttle and glided out of the hanger bay.
“Good luck Defender One. May the Force be with you,” the person monitoring at Control spoke gravely and Tycho nodded.
He then turned and tapped a few coordinates on his nav-computer. Coordinates set ... engaging light-drive, he thought to himself as he gunned the sublight engines then pressed a button on his advanced eyeball. The stars around him became white lines as he shot into hyperspace.
* * *
Tycho keyed in the last of the coordinates that was to take him to the citywide planet of Coruscant. The hub of the galaxy ... the seat in which both the Old Republic and Empire sat. The center of commerce and diplomacy ... well not exactly diplomacy, he thought wryly as he settled into the slightly uncomfortable seat of the eyeball. The last leg of his trip was to take a few hours so he had time for a short nap. He tapped a few keys on the nav-computer to tell him when it was about ten minutes before reversion into real-space.
Taking off his helmet and settling back, he stared at the white lines of hyperspace. His thoughts wandered ...
“Hey Celchu!” one of the pilots in his squadron called out and Tycho glanced up, just in time to receive a package square in his face.
“Ow ... Reniston, stop that. You could have given me a bruise the size of one of Hoth’s moons,” Tycho mock glared at the pilot before looking down at the package. It was from his family and he smiled inwardly. He had talked to them a few days ago on his birthday and his father had hinted at something to be sent to him. Before Tycho could guess what it was, his image melted away into static and he thought that it was just some minor glitch within his father’s network.
“Whatcha got there, Celchu?” another of the pilots in his squadron called out and he held the package up.
“Something from my parents on Alderaan,” he replied then creased his brows as he noticed that a few of the pilots who were sitting in the locker room with him had saddened looks on his face. “What’s wrong? Did I say something?”
“Um ... Tycho ... ” the pilot that had just spoken to him started softly and Tycho knew that something was wrong ... very wrong, “we didn’t know how to break the news to you ... it was announced when you were in the simulators.”
“What news? What?”
“Tycho ... Alderaan was destroyed a few days ago because of the rebel forces that had taken the planet hostage. Everyone on that planet was killed. Grand Moff Tarkin had no choice ... he pleaded with the rebels to stop using the planet as a hostage ... ”
His friend’s words became deaf in his ears as a great void filled up inside of him ... a hollow void ... He just kept staring at the package that was only given to him a few minutes ago, the address coming from his home in Aldera City ...
Tycho snapped wide-awake and shook his head to clear away the dream he was having. He shivered a bit and rubbed his eyes. What happened? He hadn’t dreamed a so vivid dream in a long time and it scared him a bit. He had remembered that afterwards, he opened the package and saw that it was a crystal shard that his fiancée Nyiestra had brought when she went on a trip to Crevasse City ... and it was engraved with both their names on it for their future wedding plans.
Suddenly a beeping alerted him that he was ten minutes from reversion point and he straightened his flightsuit before putting the TIE pilot helmet over his head. He washed away the thoughts of the dream ... he didn’t like to dwell on the past.
Tycho watched as the numbers slipped down to the point of revision. Was the dream supposed to mean something? Was it part of the Force that had led him to dream something like this ... he frowned slightly as he thought of the possibilities. He would have to talk to Luke about what had happened when he returned from the mission, but last he heard was that Luke was commanding something within the Milagro System, where Wedge and the others would be joining them after their weeklong reprieve.
He shook his head and his hand hovered over the hyperspace switch. Three ... two ... one ... now, he thought to himself as he pulled back on the lever and the lines of stars became little dots.
He sucked in a quick breath of amazement. The Coruscant System, even out in the edges of it, was still buzzing with traffic. He quickly glanced down and keyed in a few other coordinates into his nav computer and then turned to his right to switch on the first of the data recording devices, taking care that he encrypted everything into a quadruple level of different security systems and passwords.
Sitting back, he scanned the data coming in and raised an eyebrow. If the New Republic were to take over this area ... we would have to send in a team of elite commandos first. This place is packed with fighters and imps like a pack of rabid rancors, Tycho suppressed the urge to whistle at the massive amount of defenses and data that was pouring in.
After a few more minutes of data pouring in he stopped the flow and pulled the lever and skipped a few seconds into hyperspace before returning to normal space. Now Coruscant was a hulking mass of a citywide planet, sparkling like a jewel in space. Surrounding the glittering planet was massive black-shadowed masses ... the Golan Space Defenses.
Imperial Star Destroyers surrounded the Golan Space Defenses, and squadrons of TIE fighters patrolled the area, their twin ion engines screaming in the vacuum of space. He throttled his sublight engines and approached one of the Golan Stations, slowly as to look like he was coming from a near by out-system Star Destroyer. Turning on only a few of the recording devices, he made sure that most of them was low powered so that no one would be able to detect any of the devices over his the electrical field that his ion engine gave out. But this made the data harder to receive and he knew that he would have to wash the recorded things later before he sent it out on the various channels the New Republic would connect to.
Suddenly his comm system crackled to life and a gruff but bored nasal voice spoke from it, “This is Golan Defense Station ... identify yourself.”
Tycho breathed out a quick breath then steeled himself to remain calm. It wasn’t hard. He knew that most Imperials were bored out of their minds and it was easy for him to fit the guise of an Imperial officer coming for shore leave, “This is Captain Farell Tynnia. Pilot TC-1198 of Imperial Star Destroyer Aegis. I’m going on shore leave from our recent raid in the Milagro System. Damn ... you should see those Rebels fight. Either they’re sithspawn psychos or just rabid. But their women prisoners ... they’re like finding coursca jem.” He winced slightly at the last remark, but he had to interest the imp officer who was controlling the comm system.
“Really?!” the officer replied with a bit more enthusiasm.
“Yeah ... but I’m hoping to find me some more women down here in the real coursca jem planet,” Tycho felt a bad aftertaste in his mouth as he spit those words out. Winter’s gonna kill me if she finds out what I’ve said ... he thought silently. But it was what the description of Farell Tynnia Ackbar and Cracken had given him. Tynnia was Alderaanian born and sometimes thoughtful and quiet, yet he had a streak of running with women all the time.
It was something Tycho had never done and he didn’t really know how to improvise ...
“Well, some women you have to watch out for, but the exotics, damn they are real suave,” the officer replied and Tycho winced some more. He felt like he had to dunk himself in a vat of Corellian whiskey or lomin ale just to get his head clear of this sort of nonsense. “But anyhow ... you’re clear to come in Captain Tynnia. Good hunting on your reprieve,” the officer said then clicked off and Tycho did the same.
He released a breath that he didn’t know he had been holding in and punched the sublight engines to take him down to the citywide planet. Following an approach vector that the comm officer had given him while they were chatting, he landed in a bay where there were other Imperial fighters. A few pilots were either preparing to take off or they were just landing like he was.
He settled his advanced eyeball down onto one of the pads gently and shut off all control systems. After unbuckling his crash webbing, Tycho turned slightly and grabbed all the data cards that had been inserted within the various recording systems the Alliance had given him. He took each data card and punched in a code overlay so that if anyone scanned any cards, they would find that it was just a holo-datacard, one to project various pictures. Stuffing the completed data cards into his satchel, Tycho pressed a few buttons on each of the recording equipment, wiping everything and initiated a meltdown on the equipment. No one would find out what had happened.
He took one last look around the TIE cockpit before opened the hatch and climbed out into a room full of whining ion engines and noisy pilots. Climbing down the exterior ladder of his TIE, he jumped the last few bars to the ground and took off his helmet and breathed in a lung full of air ... and almost promptly choked at the foul smelling air he had just breathed it.
Gah ... it stinks ... he took in small breaths as he tried to quell his stomach from threatening to throw up whatever he had a day ago. He glanced around and found the gate where people were walking in and being processed through by Customs Officials.
Throwing the rope of the satchel behind his shoulder and tucking his helmet underneath his right arm, Tycho made his way towards the Customs area, occasionally acknowledging some of the pilots who called to him and asked where he his patrol was. Some even sympathized with him, saying that the Milagro Sector was a hot spot at the moment and to enjoy his stay before heading back to the battlefield.
He finally made his way into Customs and gave the officer on duty his card and placed his satchel through a detector.
“So, coming from the Milagro System, eh, Captain Tynnia?” the officer spoke with an air of boredom.
“Yes sir,” Tycho snapped a curt nod of respect, which got the officer’s attention.
“Captain, you’re an Alderaanian. I know that politeness is part of the culture, but here, you’re on reprieve so relax a little,” the officer quirked a fake smile to which Tycho gave the equal, but full measure of.
“I know that sir, but my reprieve doesn’t start until I walk through Customs,” he replied, knowing that it was the sort of thing Tynnia would say. Farell Tynnia was a respectful man, polite though demanding of his subordinates. The only flaw was that he was a skirt chaser.
The officer shrugged and handed him back his identification card, “You’re clear Captain, now you can relax and have some fun before you head back out.”
“Thanks,” Tycho replied then rounded past the officer and took his satchel and walked into the broad stretch of a plaza that held a lot of neon lit shops and flashing lights. Music was playing at a full volume, but Tycho ignored all of that and sat down on a bench that was framing a chala’a tree. He took a look at the tree to see it respond with different colors to the music and general noise of the plaza. Taking his eyes off the tree, he looked around to see various Imperial officers and some civilians milling around.
One family was pointing out the various bright colors, the small children oohing and ahhing at the sights. He quirked a small smile as he watched the family pass by. They didn’t seem to be affected by the war going on and there was something about the children that reminded him of his own family ...
He bashed the thoughts of his family away. He didn’t need to think about anything related to his life. He had to focus on the mission, it was what his training taught him to do. Now where was his contact ...
“Um ... excuse me,” a soft female voice brought his head around to see a fairly tall young woman, dressed in a nicely cut business suit staring at him. She had dark brown hair with a bit of a blonde streak that was tied tightly into a severe bun. Her eyes were of a green color and they showed that she meant business. “I’m looking for a person to interview for the Daily Alliance. I was wondering if you would like to answer a few questions?”
Tycho nodded at the choice of her words. This was his contact all right. “Sure. Just give me a second for me to record all this on my datacards. I want a copy to send out to my friends in the Milagro System,” he replied naturally, the coded words to identify himself, while he took his satchel and pretended to look through it.
Anyone watching them carefully would have noticed an ordinary, but very beautiful holo-journalist trying to interview a pilot that had just come down for shore leave.
“Oh no, its okay. I think your friends will see this in due time,” his contact replied then stuck out a hand to which he shook firmly. “I have a room where we can talk privately.”
He nodded then took his things and followed her, dodging the various people walking around until they came to one of the brightly lit shops that said [Daily Alliance News]. Tycho followed his contact in and soon came to a blank white office with people walking in and out, some shouting about the latest news, other just looking over their datapads.
“The name is Ella Westerly, holo-journalist for the Daily Alliance,” his contact introduced herself and gestured to a semi-empty worktable for them to sit down.
“Captain Farell Tynnia,” Tycho replied then placed his satchel on top of the table, “Here’s the data the General told me to collect to give to the Daily Alliance for their analysis so that the interview could be conducted in the right way and you get all the information you want.”
“Right. We’ll process these through one by one,” Ella gave him small package with a few datacards on top, “this is for more data to be collected so this interview can be a success. We will contact you over the days you will be here. Other than that, enjoy yourself.”
Tycho nodded, noticing the dismissive gesture and opened the satchel and took out the datacards he had with him. He slid them across the slightly cluttered table, “The information my bosses gave to me is hopefully sufficient to aid you in writing your article for the Daily Alliance.”
“We’ve gotten word on your place of stay, so if I have anymore questions, may I please ask?” Ella took the datacards and fanned through them a bit.
“Sure, go ahead,” Tycho replied then stood up as Ella did to. He shook her hand, and gave her a small smile, “I hope to be talking to you soon, Ms. Westerly.”
“I am a professional journalist, Captain Tynnia. I’ll be back for more questions,” Ella replied in a cold voice that jolted Tycho a bit as he kept the smile on his face.
Sounds exactly like Winter ... but ... no ... I know it’s not her ... but its someone like her with an accent that sounds almost ... Corellian ...
* * *
Author’s Notes: Finally done with this chapter! Just to remind peoples, this fic will be coming out real slow cause of school and life. I almost wish it was summer vacation again. Anyways, I guess its time to check on Wedge and the others for a brief cameo. Oh yeah, guess whose Tycho’s contact?!
Character Profile: Ella Westerly (I forgot to add her to the character profile on the first chapter…whoops.) - If the name doesn’t get you, then you probably have been stuck in a hole for the last century or so. Ella is a highly trained professional agent for the New Republic. She has many guises and Ella Westerly is not her real name, but a name she took on when she was on Corellia secretly feeding small information to the Alliance (NR). With her brown hair and golden highlights, she is considered attractive, but she is also icy cold when it comes down to her work, just like her partner, Winter.
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