He could say, "She's not getting to me," because it's true, she doesn't, hasn't for a long time, never really did. What she did or did not do (and that's the problem with that catatonic state; he doesn't know) to him, that's more of a problem than Ysanne Isard herself. No, Tycho went on with his life after he returned from the Lusankya and Akrit'tar, and maybe he wasn't quite the same as he was before, but he was stronger for it. She's not getting to him.

Not in the past, anyway. That's why he doesn't say it. Her presence now, it's getting to him. Because she's an enemy, because she's dangerous and he doesn't know what she knows or what she plans to do, and that makes him (understandably, he thinks) wary.


He could say, "How the Sith am I supposed to do that?" because Winter was there afterward, was there all through the bruises fading and his hair growing back and his voice returning and the New Republic suspicion and the nightmares. She was at his side through the trial, through the wrongful imprisonment, through his name getting dragged through the mud.

But she wasn't there. She has no idea what it was like--the interrogation and the torture and the beatings and that coldly amused female voice--other than what little she's heard from him, and he's grateful for that.

But she can only understand so much, and it's not as easy as saying 'Don't let her get to you anymore.'



In the end, Tycho sets her hand down and he says nothing.