FROM SIM WITH ALISON AS WES, MIDDOUR AS TYCHO

A few hours after Doc had sedated him, Janson jumped out of his peaceful sleep, grabbing at the arm in which she had stuck the needle. He turned and saw her sleeping, propped up against the bulkhead, and growled under his breath. He got up to check on Siee, and yawned.

*

Tycho kept a soft hand on the flightstick. He watched Hyperspace pass by outside as Ugh sat quietly in the corner, jacked into the astrogation system. He yawned slightly as he watched the countdown timer. Only eight hours before they would get to Coruscant. He sighed. Eight hours.... Sith.

Seeing that everything was okay in the hold, the other Rogues spread out and asleep, Janson turned and eyed the cockpit warily, debating on whether to go in or not. He soon made up his mind, and started limping toward the cockpit, noticing that the pain in his hip had dulled. He could feel the patches on his hip and thigh shift as he walked.

Tycho heard someone coming, and tried to look busy bringing up astrogation charts and star maps.

Janson stood outside the cockpit door and knocked lightly, "Tych?"

"Uhm... yeah?" Tycho was sweating.

The Taanabian bit his lip. "Need any help in there?"

He felt nervous, "Uhm.... I think I've got it pretty much under control. Gotta concentrate, don't want to hype too close to a star or something," the Alderaanian lied. Anyone who knew him, knew he could jump the whole inner core without a star chart.

"Oh.... Well, uhm... Okay then," Janson turned to walk away, but stopped. He shook his head, then turned back, palming the door open with his left hand. "Tych, we need to talk," he took a few steps in.

Tycho looked over his shoulder, avoiding eye contact. "What's on your mind, Wes?"

"A lot, actually," he moved to sit in the co-pilot's seat.

He continued avoiding eyecontact, "I can imagine.... That was a rough mission, I hope Siee is okay."

"Doctor Anreson says she should be fine. I'm obligated to believe her...."

"Anreson seems to know her medicine," he stared out the cockpit window. "I'm sure she is being honest with you."

He followed the other man's gaze. "Yeah. She knows me way too well now. I'm not sure I like that."

Tycho sighed. "Well, guess you just need to surprise her every now and again." He smiled slightly, but still did not make eye contact with Janson.

He nodded and silence reigned for a moment. "Tycho, what happened that day I snapped? I don't remember anything. I remember going to the sims.... Then I was in medbay, and was told that I shot Ngo, and destroyed your office."

His stomach churned suddenly. "It's not important, Wes.... Don't worry about it. It was my fault," he closed his eyes.

"Tycho, I need to know. I've messed everything in my life up these past few months. I need to know how I ruined our friendship."

"You didn't ruin our friendship, Wes..." he spoke quietly, then hung his head. "I did."

Wes leaned back, "I don't understand."

"I thought I was helping you... when, in fact, I was only causing you more pain."

"You thought you were helping me, Tycho.... What you did, I don't remember, but I'm sure you had my best interests at heart."

"I used to think I did.... Now, I just don't know...." He sighed, "I guess I was being selfish. I wanted the old Wes back.... I wanted my friend back."

Janson leaned forward. "Well, I'm back now.... Kinda. Are you?"

He tried not to look at him as a tear ran down his cheek. "I wish I knew, Wes.... I wish I knew."

"Was it because of me that you left... besides the medical reason?"

Tycho looked away, letting his silence become Janson's answer.

"Tycho, please. What did I do to you? I need to know!" he pleaded with him.

He finally turned to face him, for the first time. "Don't you see, Wes?! It was not you! It was me... I hurt you, I hurt a friend.... I hurt a fellow Rogue.... I failed you, and I failed the squadron."

Janson swallowed, giving Tycho a look caught somewhere between confusion and sadness. "Tycho, you didn't hurt me. I was already messed up 'cause of Beruss.... I should have listened to my gut and gone with you, but I didn't. I stayed. I got caught up in her world and wasn't able to escape it."

"And you had been in a screwed up state of mind ever since. Then, I figured I could help you, get you back to the stick again... make you whole," Tycho looked away. "But I failed," he whispered. "I just hurt you more."

He shook his head. "Tycho... it's not that. Beruss didn't make me afraid to fly. I have been for a while now, before that whole thing I was looking to go back into teaching again... but, you couldn't have known that. You saw how that fear was made so much stronger because of her..." his voice trailed off.

All emotion drained from his face as the Alderaanian fought any trace of it back. "It does not excuse my actions though."

"Your actions were those of one friend trying to help another... there's no need to excuse them. Tycho, you're my friend, and one of the few people who can actually handle my antics without stunning me. You know I'd never hold anything against you...."

Unable to fight them any longer, tears rolled down Tycho's face as he turned to hide them from view. "I know, Wes. You've always been that way.... sometimes I feel like I don't deserve such friendship, for fear it will be gone when I need it most...."

"I still am, Tycho. Just not willing to jump into a fighter anymore, but I'm still the same Wes. You, Wedge, Hobbie.... You're the closest I've got to brothers. You're stuck with me, Old Man... like it or not."

Memories of his family flooded through his mind. The faces of those he'd lost were soon replaced, with the faces of his fellow Rogues, in a torrent of images. "You are my family now, Wes.... You and everyone else in the squadron." He paused a moment. "You're all I have left," he whispered.

Janson placed his left hand on Tycho's shoulder. "No, Tycho. We're just the beginning of your rebuilding. The foundation for you to lean on as you build upwards and onwards."

Slowly he dried his eyes with the cuff of his flightsuit, while he reached up to lay his free hand to rest lightly on the one Janson had rested on his shoulder. "Friends still?"

"Nope. We're Brothers. Brothers forever."

He stood and faced him, then grabbing him in a hug. "Brothers. To the bitter end... whenever that'll be."

Janson winced as the hug hurt his shoulder, but he bit back the pain. "To the end... which is a long ways away."

Tycho straightened. "Since you're here," he pointed to the pilot seat. "Mind taking the controls for a bit? I really have to use the 'fresher."

"Well..." he looked at the controls uncertainly. "We're not due to drop out soon, are we?"

Tycho looked at the countdown chrono. "Not for about six hours."

"Uh.... Sure, I'll handle it then." He can't pee for six hours, can he?

He sighed, "Good." He started heading out, but stopped at the door and looked back in. "Oh, uhm.... One more thing, Wes."

"Yeah?"

"Word of this talk gets out, and you won't have to worry about flying. I'll bust you down to parts procurement, okay?" he grinned.

Janson waved his bacta-casted hand at him. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Get going before you make a mess on the floor."

Tycho laughed to himself as he headed to the 'fresher. It was the first time he had truly laughed in a very long time.

-------END-------