simmed with Middour as Tycho & Rodian

Anreson was able to get her hands on a small shuttlecraft with relative ease, and the help of Wily. She and the droid headed off on their journey, and arrived the following evening to the Corellian system. She brought the shuttle to orbit Tralus. After finding transponder signal 456.399.723 Mhz, she set the ship above the origin's city and opened the comm.

"This is Moonryder to Tralus Control, requesting permission to land."

"Tralus Control, Permission granted Moonryder. Pad 2601."

"Thanks, and good day to you, Control." She flipped off her comm and landed her ship without trouble.

After she finished shutting down the systems, she went back to where her green R2 was. "Alright Wily, I need you to find out how far, and in which direction, that transponder's signal is emitting from. Can you do that?"

Wily whistled an affirmitave.

"Good, I'll go get changed while you do that." She disappeared into the back, and soon re-appeared wearing a dark blue button-down shirt, with the top two fastenings undone, a pair of snug black pants, a pair of calf-boots, and a workjacket. She pulled her hair up and tucked it beneath a cap of sorts. "You get it yet, Wily?"

Another affirmitave whistle.

"Okay." She pulled out her black datapad and turned it on. After a moment, and a few tootles, whistles, and chirps, the data had been transferred. "Oh, good," she looked up and smiled, patting the droid's domed head. "Thanks. You stay here, I should be back within twenty-four hours."

The droid beeped as she left the ship, obviously upset at being left behind. She made sure the ship was locked down, and headed in the direction indicated on her datapad. When she reached Dock 2594, where the ship was located, she found the bay doors were locked. So, she pulled out her datapad and jacked it into the system. After a few minutes, she got the door unlocked, and entered.

She snuck into the docking bay and made a circut of the Wayward Star. She tried the hatch but it wouldn't open. She frowned, I shouldn't break in. I'll have to wait for him to show on his own.

Sitting down behind some crates, she checked to be sure her holdout blaster was set on stun, then returned it to the holster at the small of her back. She double checked to be sure her vibroblades were in place on her left forearm and leaned back to wait, watching both the hangar door, and the ship's hatch.

* * Tycho awoke with a start, That damn nightmare again...

Ugh signaled his comlink that someone was snooping around the ship. "Sithspit!" He put on his boots and strapped on his blaster. Tossing his cape around his shoulders, he exited his room and jogged down the stairs to the entryway. He hailed a Robo-Hack.

"Dock 2594... and step on it!"

* *

Anreson readjusted herself more comfortably, standing to let the blood circulate back into her legs again. She pulled her cap down over her eyes, to make it seem as though she were dozing, as she leaned back against the wall.

* *

The droid controlled taxi zipped through a few streets and stopped at the desired locale. Tycho shoved a cred-voucher into the slot and hopped out, pulling the hood up over his head as he entered the bay. He made his way toward the Wayward Star, his blaster at the ready. The area seemed too quiet as he moved from shadow to shadow.

Sharp near-black eyes watched him from beneath the brim of a workers hat. Her arms were still crossed, she'd pulled the blaster from it's hidden place as the bay doors slid open and held it hidden beneath one of her arms. She pushed away from the wall and moved into view.

"Celchu."

He froze when he heard his name, "Sithspit!" He turned and ran back in the direction he'd come.

She bolted from her hiding place as she ran after him. "Stop!"she shouted as she returned the holdout to it's place at the small of her back.

He knocked over barrels and crates in his wake in an attempt to slow her down.

She swerved out of the way of some, leaping over others. "Wait, Celchu! I have news!"

He jumped over a railing, and was not prepared for the distance of the drop.

"Sithspit..."

He hit the ground hard, tucked and rolled back to his feet, then continued his flight.

She flew down the stepcase, chasing after him. "It's about WINTER!"

Ignoring her insistant calls, he headed for an alley and made his way back to the hotel, his heavy breathing drowning out all noise around him. People and aliens alike, dove for cover as he pushed his way through crowded streets.

She followed him silently, a little more subtle in her chase, keeping pace with him. When he stopped near a hotel's corner, he looked to see if he was still persued. She ducked into an alleway.

He bolted through the door after only a cursory glance and ran up the stairs, flight after flight, his heart pounding in his ears. He finally got to the landing where his room was. He stopped a moment, gasping for air. I'm getting too old for this, he thought to himself as he made his way to his door.

He noticed a holo attatched to it and ripped it off as he entered his room. He tossed it onto the desk, then locked the door behind himself. He turned off all the lights in the room, and drew his blaster. He sat in a corner, his weapon trained on the door.

* *

After a moment, Anreson followed him to the door of the hotel. She took off the cap and stuffed it into her jacket pocket, then unbuttoned the next two buttons of her shirt. She tossed the jacket over her shoulder. Shaking her hair out to fall down in long waves down her back, she didn't look quite so dowdy as she had before.

She entered the hotel and went up to the Rodian proprietor. "Hey, I'm looking for my cousin? He's a little bit taller than I am, blonde, and wears a funny-looking cloak."

The Rodian wiggled an ear at her. "Lady, everyone wear funny cloaks," he told her in broken basic.

"Alright, the one who just ran in, breathlessly. I was trying to catch up to him in a game of chase, but he outran me."

The Rodian leaned forward. "No way, lady."

She handed him a fifty-cred chit. "Are you certain?"

He palmed the credit. "My memory is... how you say... fuzzy."

"Fuzzy? Perhaps I could help with that.... If you could help me," she slid forward a twenty-five-cred chit.

"Fifteenth floor... I think," he said as he palmed the chit.

"You don't know?" she slid forward a ten-chit.

He took it. "Yes, fifteenth floor. I am certain."

"Do you know the room number?" she asked raising an eyebrow.

"Not for eighty-five, I don't," he told her with a Rodian smile.

"How about for an even hundred?" she asked quietly, leaning forward to slide him the final fifteen.

He took them greedily, "Room 1531.... Have a nice evening."

She stood straight and nodded, "You too." Well, that ended up cheaper than I thought it would.

The Rodian turned away and went back to filing.

Anreson took her time heading up the stairs slowly, rebuttoning the shirt so only the top two were left undone once again. She reached the fifteenth floor, and found the thirty-first door. She knocked quietly on the door at eye-level.

Startled, Tycho didn't answer. He silently took the safety off the blaster, ignoring the pain in his leg. Sweat beaded on his brow.

"I know you're in there," she called quietly.

He tightened his grip on his DL-44, "You better back off!"

"I can't do that. Now, let me in or I'll let myself in," she told him as she hooked in her datapad and rapidly worked to unlock the door.

He felt something wet ooze down his shin, but ignored it. "This is your last chance!"

She grinned as she finally got the door unlocked. "No, it's yours," she told him as she checked her blaster to be sure it was set on stun. She moved out of view as the door slid open.

As he watched the door open, a combat calm came over him, and he resighted his blaster.

"So, can I come in, or not?" she asked peevishly, hoping he would recognize her voice somewhat before he would try to kill her. "I have news for you. It's a matter of life and death, and it involves your wife." Well, it's kind-of the truth... depending on how you look at it....

He slowed his breathing, speaking very softly and ignoring the supposed lies. "You opened the door.... Go ahead and try to come in."

She laughed, "I'm not stupid. Now, do I tell you the news that can make or break Winter from the door, or can we sit face to face, blaster to blaster, like civilized people?"

"Come in..." he told her, his voice almost a ghost.

"I have your word that you'll hear me out?"

"The glow panel switch is by the door...."

"I'll take that as a yes," she moved in at a crouch, the holdout blaster drawn, and reached up to flip on the light. She stood, blaster still in hand but not exactly trained.

He recognized the doctor. "Oh, not a good person to impersonate," he kept his blaster trained on her.

She put a hand on her hip. "I know you don't like me, you have good reason, but you're going to listen to me before you shoot me. Got it?" She reached behind her, palmed the door shut, and folded her arms before her; the holdout still in her hand and, somewhat, pointed more or less to the floor at his feet.

He stood and limped over to a chair, his blaster still trained on her. "How do I know you are who you say?"

"I once told you your combat psychology was worthless."

He stared at her a moment then dropped the blaster. "Says you."

She put her holdout away and shrugged, "Okay, so it needs a little work. Can I take a look at that leg?"

He looked down and saw blood streaming from a cut beneath a torn pantleg. "My brain is not in my leg.... Shrink," he said with a taunting attitude while kicking off his boots and wiping sweat from his brow.

"Fine, don't listen to your new Chief Flight Surgeon," she still stood there, arms still crossed.

His jaw dropped, "What?! You have got to be kidding."

"Listen to me now, you need to come back."

He groaned, "How in the sith did you find me, anyway?!"

"I have my ways. Now, let me tell you why you need to come back."

He held up a hand, "Woah.... I made my peace with my departure, I'm not going through treatments or such."

"Of course not... you don't understand," she shook her head. "You're not dying, Celchu. You're perfectly healthy."

He sighed, "Yeah, right. And Vader being Luke's father was just a mean rumor."

She moved over and crouched down next to his chair. He leaned back to put some distance between them. "I got your results as due course, to begin hospice work and let loved ones know what was happening, etcetera...."

"Oh, since I'm my only next of kin you decided to pay me a visit, right?" he broke in bitterly.

Anreson sighed, "You're so difficult. I would have had to talk to Winter. Now shut up and let me finish. I found a discrepancy between your file and the results, and went down to run the tests a second, third, fourth, and even a fifth time. You got a false positive. You aren't dying, you're healthy as anything."

"False positive? Come on, Lieutanant. 2-1B's don't make mistakes!"

"There was a virus in the unit's programming that has since been fixed. After running the tests through three others, I ran it through the 2-1B who originally tested you. You're healthy," she told him honestly, her look serious.

Tycho began looking around the room, not knowing what to say. It was as though he hoped to find the answers written on the walls.

"You need to come back and help the General and me take care of the squadron."

He bowed his head, the confusion of what he'd been told coupled with the pain in his leg. Everything seemed to crowd in on him at once, and a tear fell from his eyes.

Anreson stood and went to the 'fresher to find the first-aid med-kit. She soon returned and sat on the floor before him. "Lemme get a look at that leg now." She said quietly as she pushed up his pantleg, thankful that the leg was not broken, nor the knee, it was only middlingly skinned. She cleaned it up and put on a bacta-patch.

Tycho said nothing and just sat there, thinking over past events. The recurring dream came back to memory, playing in his mind.

She gathered the used supplies and got up to throw the used things into the trash, then returned the pack to in the 'fresher cabinet.

He stood and limped to the door. "Well, thanks for coming all this way Lieutenant, but I really have a job to do now. Give my regards to Cracken when you get back," he gave her a smile. It was the first genuine one he'd worn in days.

"Perhaps," she smiled back. "I saw some fliers for a circus, and I'm not really due back until the Rogues return from wherever they are so," she shrugged. "Maybe I'll head over."

He looked at the holo he had tossed on the desk. "Yeah, they seem to be posted everywhere. The Rogues are here though, I know it. I'm not sure how, but I do, and I have to help them."

"Is there something wrong?"

He looked away, "Nothing. Just... a recurring nightmare...." his voice trailed off.

"Recurring?" she raised an eyebrow. "Those often mean something."

"It's like someone, or something, is leading me through the dream though.... Maybe it's nothing." He palmed the door open. "You'd better go before you're seen."

She shook her head and hastilly wrote something on a piece of flimsy from her pocket. "My comm number. If you need any help, and I'm not just talking head stuff, let me know. I'll be in the area for a few more days." She handed him the flimsy and left.

"Hey Anreson!"

She turned around at the stairwell, "Yeah?"

"Thanks.... I mean it," he shut the door.

She chuckled to herself and shook her head, then headed back to her borrowed ship for a good nite's sleep.

======END=======