Chapter Text
The sun set quickly over the dunes, sky turning from yellow to orange to dusty black in a matter of minutes. Angus had never been on a desert planet like Jakku before, and he took in the colors, the smell of dry sand, the calls of raiders in the distance as much as he kept his ears and eyes out for stormtroopers and TIE fighters.
Carey Fangbattle was in the tent on the ridge just behind Angus, speaking with their contact. He understood that sending a “kid” to speak to an important contact looked bad for the Resistance, but he was a little miffed that he had to sit outside and play look-out, even though Carey had (sort of condescendingly, though he knew she meant well) tried to reassure him it was definitely an important job. He was the one who had figured out what the Director was looking for before she disappeared; this was practically his mission.
Putting aside individual accomplishment for the good of the Resistance - a hard motto for a ten year old to remember, but one Killian had advised would be good for him. (“What about Carey - best pilot in the Resistance? Is that putting aside individual accomplishment?” Killian had not even replied to that comment. She knew that Angus knew when he was just being precociously passive aggressive).
The glory was not important to Angus. After watching the First Order burn everything they touched on Maridun and tear down the walls of his home, Angus just wanted to be taken seriously.
Then, he had heard the growl of the TIE fighters before anything else. So this time, he almost missed the lights of the transport ship descending towards the ground. But Angus knew exactly what it was when the dim lights appeared against the dusty sky. He backed away and took off towards the tent, feet sinking slightly with each step into the sand.
“Carey, ma’am,” Angus panted, poking his head into the tent. “Sir,” he added automatically when he and the man caught eyes. “We have to go. They’re here.”
Carey slipped a small item into her pocket, shook the man’s hand, and seemed to falter for a moment.
“We’ll be fine. You two have to save the information you now hold. Go.”
Carey gripped Angus’s shoulder and steered him off, the two running to her X-Wing. With her wide feet and lanky tail, Carey traversed the sand much more swiftly than Angus, but he kept her horns in his sight. She had her own helmet over her head and Angus’s held out for him by the time he made it to the fighter, and they both jumped in at once, just before the blaster fire exploded across the village.
“You okay, Ango?”
“Of-of course, ma’am.” His voice shook as he strapped himself in behind her.
“I’m getting us out of here,” Carey said, her words as steady as her pilot hands which were rapidly turning on the navigation and battle systems. As the screens lit up in front of her, everything seemed to flash red, both outside and inside the fighter, and Angus heard and felt the all too familiar vibrations of blaster fire.
“Shit.” Carey was slithering out of the seat before Angus could register what had just happened. “Cover me, kid.”
In the last few months, Carey and Killian had given Angus some basic piloting and weapons training - as much as they were comfortable giving to a ten-year-old. Like a huge weight pressing onto his chest, Angus felt like he couldn’t breathe as he jumped into the pilot’s seat and grabbed the joystick. He flipped open the sights, watching the stormtroopers that were coming towards the back of the fighter, where Carey was headed to inspect the damage.
Just like training, just like training, just like training… Switch to blaster, aim, squeeze… PEW PEW… BOOM! Angus watched in the viewer as the stormtroopers flew into the air from the blaster fire.
“Nice shot!” Carey called.
Hyperventilating, Angus tried not to think about the faces behind those white helmets.
“Shit.” Angus heard Carey swearing again, and before he could ask her what was wrong, she reappeared on the ground next to the fighter. “One of the engines is gone. We’re not leaving in this.” She reached a hand out to help Angus down, and he landed on uneasy feet beside her.
Kneeling down in front of him, Carey took the item the man had given her out of her pocket, and pressed it into Angus’s hand. “This is safest with you. Time to be the undercover operative you’ve been waiting to be kid,” she said, using her other scaly hand to ruffle Angus’s hair affectionately.
Angus’s eyes widened as soon as he realized what Carey was saying - which was not a lot of leaps for the galaxy’s greatest detective to make. “Oh, I-I-I don’t know if… Can’t you come with me? I know I’m smart and everything, but you’re a heck of a lot stealthier than I am. Where are you going to go?”
“Angus. Don’t worry about me. You have two pieces of the map now. You have to stay safe. Get as far away from here as you can. Don’t look back. Old Carey Fangbattle will be fine, don’t you worry.” She had a half smile on her reptilian lips that scared Angus more than reassured him. “Be brave. I will find you.”
He wanted to be taken seriously, didn’t he? This was it. This was his mission. Angus breathed deep, stood tall, and held onto the small, metal object tightly. “Yes, ma’am.”
Carey stood up, fondness in her eyes. “Go. I’ll cover you.” Angus watched as she slipped under the fighter, her oversized brown jacket giving her some camouflage against the desert landscape. He allowed himself to watch her for another second before turning and running the other way.
Everything burned - his lungs, the muscles in his legs, the dust in his eyes, the sound of screaming and blasters in the background. But Angus did not let himself slow down or look back. The Resistance needed him now.
Only when his legs truly started to give out under him and Angus thought his lungs might collapse did he slow down, now knowing there were several sand dunes behind him and wind picking up to cover his tracks.
Though Angus was a smart kid - a boy genius, some said - even he could not fight the urge to look back. He was too far away to see anything more distinct than smoke rising in the distance, and the occasional particularly strong red blast from the ships that had delivered the stormtroopers. Just as he was about to make himself turn away and keep going, an explosion of orange and red engulfed the part of the desert he had just left, the rocketing boom following soon after. As silly as he knew it was, Angus thought he could feel his stomach dropping into his feet.
Be brave, Angus, be brave, he reminded himself. Repeating the command again, he realized he was saying it out loud with whatever breath he had left, and he kept murmuring it as he finally turned away from the explosion and kept walking.