#ian yang

[musewrangler]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

“Like I said,” Matt replied, though she could see more doubt on his face. “It could be a criminal or agent that the Rebellion is after. If it’s a sentient.”

“And if he’s hurt?” she pushed. “We’re ok with leaving him there for ten hours?”

“Ok, ok,” Yang interposed. “I know you, Hatley, you’re not going to let this go. How about this. We will merely open the cargo door to look. And if you’re wrong, we come back up here.”

“And if I’m right?” she asked. “And it’s a sentient being? What then?”

Scraps tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair.

“We make sure he’s got water and we come back up,” he replied at length. “I won’t risk getting close to a dangerous enemy and compromising the mission.”

She nodded.

“Fine.”

Accordingly, the three of them made their way down the ladder to the next deck and Matt pressed the pad by the door leading to the small cargo hold.

The lights came on immediately and they poked their heads in.

At first, they couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

But then…

“Look!” Maddy hissed.

A pair of glossy black boots were poking out from behind a few crates, quite clearly belonging to someone who was lying on the deck.

And Hatley recognized the style of those boots immediately.

[musewrangler]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

He showed them the map and tapped the meet point to make it glow yellow.

“Clear?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” they all replied in chorus.

Piett fought off the possessive instinct that swept him. Kark, he couldn’t get attached to these kids. The situation was already complicated enough.

“Once we meet here, we will proceed to get the code cylinder needed. Hatley, I think—-”

“Oh don’t worry about that, sir!” she interrupted happily. “I have a plan for that.”

All of them looked at her.

She smiled like a tooka with cream.

“It’s worked before,” she said demurely.

“Of course it has,” Yang muttered.

Was this what it felt like to parent teenagers?

“Madeline,” Piett said, raising skeptical eyebrows. “You continue to raise all sorts of questions in my mind.”

Her grin was not comforting.

[musewrangler]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Matt looked over and met the Captain’s eyes. Despite the dark bruising beneath them from the broken nose, they were alert and clear. And he couldn’t help his own question, tumbling from his lips.

“Are you a war criminal, Captain?”

They had mere minutes, and then they would likely never see this man again. Matt wasn’t sure what he was asking this for—-some form of absolution? He didn’t know. He just knew that his stomach was churning.

Piett sighed lightly and stretched his neck a little.

“I’m…just a man. Trying to do my best. Like you, I think,” he answered quietly.

“It’s not right,” Yang said beside Matt. “What happened to you.”

Ian wasn’t usually so forthcoming. So he must also feel strongly about this.

“Agreed,” Piett replied, his mouth curling slightly at the corner. “But then, this galaxy is hardly fair.”

They passed through the atmospheric barrier of the hangar bay.

“I…don’t feel good, handing you over like this,” Matt admitted, guilt threatening to choke him.

The Captain looked at him and there was no mistaking the pity in his face.

“It is difficult sometimes,” he answered. “To follow orders. To act or not to act.”

He paused and it was clear he was recalling something.

The shuttle touched the deck, and Matt scowled up at the ceiling.

“It’s not your fault, son,” Piett said.

“Isn’t it?” Matt answered hotly. “We know you’re a person, not just a cargo. Why are we taking you so secretly?”

There was no answer to this.

[musewrangler]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/76251691/chapters/207368986

THE PRINCIPLED REBELS (OR HOW PIETT WOUND UP WITH THREE KIDS)

Chapter 6

“I will return to my ship,” Piett replied, the thought of that filling him with profound content, “and I will no doubt have to answer questions. But my story is that there was a mix up with transport and then a malfunction that took me to Farlo. I’ll tell half the truth and leave you three out of it.”

Yang began to place their empty dishes in the recycler in the bulkhead. The mood had dramatically switched back to heavy and serious once more as they all faced their imminent separation.

“And you?” he asked, pouring himself a glass of water. His head was aching—-not a migraine—just several days of strain and physical exertion catching up to him. “You stole a prisoner and helped him escape. What is the penalty for that?”

He did not care for the worry in his gut for these honorable children who had rescued him.

“We’re going to the Princess,” Hatley said confidently. “She would hate what Madine had planned for you. And if we have to, we'll go all the way to Mon Mothma.”

“We’ll likely have some punishment,” Scraps added with a shrug. “Worth it. I’d do it again, Captain.”

Piett cleared his throat.

“Thank you. What you saved me from…let’s just say I have reason to know how awful it would have been. I would not have died slowly or easily. I will always be in your debt for that.”

He looked at the three fresh faces before him, trying to commit them to memory—the freckled countenance of Matthew Scraps, the blue eyed earnestness of Hatley, the steady set to Yang’s shoulders.

“And I won’t forget any of you,” he said. “I…would be much obliged if you all could survive this war.”

[musewrangler]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

“The plan,” Piett had said, leaning over the table as Yang slurped noodles with reckless abandon and Hatley buried her face into a nerf burger, “is to reach the Kolaris Station. It’s one of the larger Imperial transport hubs within a reasonable distance from this sector. There, my colleague will meet us. He will make certain you have a vessel, and he and I can take a shuttle back to my ship.”

“You are a captain Captain, then,” Hatley said, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “I wondered because you really seem like it. You give orders like a champ.”

“Hatley,” Yang sighed, reaching for his water glass.

“Which,” Hatley continued in a dignified voice, “is a compliment, sir.”

Piett had smiled at her a little before he had another bite of his nerf steak. “Thank you, Lieutenant,” he said simply. “Now here’s the tricky part. In order to board a public transport that services Imperial stations, one has to scan one’s code cylinder. None of you have those.”

Matt bit his lip.

“I could steal more,” Hatley stated around a ridiculously huge bite.

Piett raised an eyebrow at her.

“Thank you, Hatley,” he said, handing over another paper napkin. “But you need specific ones for this. So. I intend to bluff my way through it.”

“What do you mean, Captain?” Yang asked, sitting back contentedly, having conquered three bowls of noodles.

“Leave that to me,” Piett replied, mouth curling a little. “But you three will need to be paying close attention to play your parts. I shall do the talking and you follow my lead.”

[musewrangler]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Leia’s eyes flicked to Luke’s again. “Our agent has uncovered evidence from the very top levels that Lord Vader has two living children. The Emperor knows this.”

Piett’s shock was palpable, but he schooled himself admirably.

“Lord Vader has never given any indicator regarding that,” he stated firmly.

“There are a few possibilities for that,” Luke said. “One, he knows and is protecting them. Or two, he doesn’t know, but they are still a threat to Palpatine.”

It was odd to be speaking about himself like this.

Piett glared at his leg. He had the air of a man who needed to pace and that option was not open to him at the moment.

He opted instead to gently tap his finger upon the table top.

“I grant,” he said at last, “That this seems ridiculously elaborate as a way to get me to give you sensitive information. I would appreciate some time to consider my own course of action.”

[musewrangler]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

“Matt…” she murmured, “Matt…”

The right side of his face was coated in blood and his lips split. The wound in his thigh had soaked his uniform trousers and she could see from how he held his left arm that something was broken or dislocated.

He handed her a blaster before he swiftly tugged at her uniform jacket.

“S’okay,” he slurred, turning to gingerly wipe some of the blood and grime off his face and onto his sleeve. “You’re gonna be ok, you hear me, Lieutenant?”

He almost ripped her jacket open to reveal the spreading bloodstain on her henley right above her waistband.

She knew it was bad. She’d known that the moment she’d been shot and Matt had dragged her to the meagre shelter of this tree. Up to that point, she’d really believed they could make it. After four days being held by the Pyke Syndicate, they had figured out an escape plan.

And despite their injuries from the expected beatings, they had all made the sprint uphill into the tree line. Maddy had felt the burn then and it was like someone had punched her hard in the back, but she kept going. She had to. She was dead if she didn’t.

This installment is for @accidental-spice

she’ll know why😉

[musewrangler]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Out on the floor, Scraps was living up to his last name as another body went skidding across the surface and into a table and chairs in a terrific clatter. By now beings were scattering and chaos reigned. Ian saw that the original swine had friends and he was eager to join in, but not as eager to leave Maddy alone.

Fox had gone to speak with the bartender, and Yang assumed he was getting the local authorities involved.

At that moment, a chair crashed along Matt’s back and his friend stumbled to his knees.

Opportunely, Goolsby arrived beside him breathlessly with kit in hand.

“Take care of Maddy,” Ian told him, shoving Avery at her and then he leapt into the fray to offer assistance to Matt.