Star Wars: X-Wing I: Rogue Squadron by Michael A. Stackpole Page A

been any easier for you, sir. You were an Imperial pilot.”
    Tycho did not reply immediately and Corran sensed a window of vulnerability that had opened, then slammed shut almost immediately. He knew it with the certainty he’d known when he’d hit on lies suspects told him during interrogation. He wanted to pounce and push, but the hint of pain he saw flash through Tycho’s eyes stopped him.
    “Let’s just say, Corran, that my situation was quite different from yours.” Tycho’s face slackened into an emotionless mask. “Different time, different circumstances.”
    Corran heard pure honesty in Tycho’s words and decided against pushing. That honesty cleared his mind and punched through walls he didn’t realize he’d erected. “You may be right, sir. Looking around here I see the sort of smuggler’s hideaway my father and I ached to bust wide open. Just looking at this place I know it had to have been used by smugglers before the Alliance turned it into a base. If I’d known then what I know now …”
    “You would have been even more convinced that the Rebellion was wrong.”
    “Yeah, I guess I would have.” Corran slapped his own belly with his right hand. “I remember being in the CorSec Academy when the Imperial warrantsfor Han Solo and Chewbacca were issued. They were charged with the murder of Grand Moff Tarkin—no word about the Death Star, of course. I remember thinking that if I were already in CorSec I’d have gotten Solo. I thought he was a blot on Corellia’s honor.”
    The hint of a smile tugged at the corners of Tycho’s mouth. “And you still do.”
    Corran winced. “He smuggled spice for a Hutt. I understand that he made some choices that made his life fall apart. I can sympathize with his freeing Wookiee slaves—no one on Corellia liked the idea of slaves—but he sank pretty low after that.”
    Tycho nodded. “When your life disintegrated,
you
didn’t sink that far, so
he
shouldn’t have?”
    “Something like that.” Corran stopped just before they entered the corridor out of the hangar. “Is that your assessment of my opinion, or your assessment of Solo in relationship to your leaving Imperial service as he did?”
    Tycho’s smile broadened. “Interesting insight. I think there was a time that Solo, who had bound his conception of honor to his service to the Empire, forgot that honor could exist outside Imperial service. This seems to be a misconception that has been corrected.”
    “And correcting it won him fame, glory, and Princess Organa.”
    “True, but what’s important is that he knows honor exists inside you and can only radiate out. What goes on outside can’t change it or kill it unless you abandon your honor. Too many folks give it up too easily, then do whatever they can to fill the void in their hearts.” Tycho shook his head. “Forgive me this little lecture. I’ve had an unfortunate amount of time to think about this sort of stuff.”
    Two Alliance Security officers walked over towhere Corran and Tycho stood. The female Lieutenant spoke with a calm, even voice. “Captain Celchu, are you ready to return to your quarters now?”
    The taller man suddenly looked very fatigued, as if his skeleton had just become one size smaller so his flesh hung loosely from it. “Yes, I believe so. Thank you for this conversation, Mr. Horn.”
    “You’re welcome, sir.”
    Tycho nodded to the woman. “After you.”
    “No, sir,” she said, “after
you
.”
    Her tone struck Corran as all wrong. He had assumed she had been offering to escort Captain Celchu to his quarters as a courtesy, but the edge in her voice transformed her words into an order.
Why would they be forcing him to return to his quarters? I don’t understand. She’s treating him like a criminal
.
    He stared after them, trying to reconcile the Security officer’s action with a need to protect Tycho from some threat. He couldn’t imagine anyone in the Alliance base who would begrudge Tycho actions