Chapter Text
“General MacKinnon, you wanted to see me?” Tyson burst in, breathless.
“You’re late.” The grim expression on the General’s face froze Tyson where he stood.
“I’m so sorry General, there was an issue with my speeder, you see there’s this-”
“Kid, it’s fine.” The General relaxed into an easy grin and Tyson flushed. “Call me Nate, seriously. ‘The General’ makes me feel weird.”
“O-okay, sir, I mean, Nate, sir. Sorry.” Tyson rubbed the back of his neck. “Um, why am I here, exactly? Did I mess something up again? If it’s that, I’ll fix it right away, I promise.”
“No, you didn’t mess anything up, Tyson. I called you here because I need your help.” The General- or Nate’s gentle expression solidified and Tyson stood up straighter.
“Help with what? I’d be honored to help, of course, I mean.”
“I need a pilot.” Nate looked pointedly at Tyson. “And a crew.”
“Me?” Tyson squeaked out. “I’m not a pilot! I mean, I am, but I get the feeling that what you’re wanting me to do isn’t a joyride, and anything above that is way out of my wheelhouse.”
“Are you kidding? I’ve seen you fly, kid. I need someone with your kind of skill. Are you in?”
“I don’t even know what I’m getting into!”
“This is a need-to-know thing, and until you say you’ll do it, you don’t need to know.”
“Fine.” Tyson let out a breath. “Fine, I’ll do it. Whatever ‘it’ is, that you needed me for and not Andre.”
“It’s, uh, good that you mention Andre, because he’s what this whole thing’s about.”
“What do you mean?” Tyson asked. At first he thought the ordeal was just beneath Nate’s top pilot and that’s why he called for the first person he saw flying an x-wing that morning. Now he was starting to think it could be more than that.
“Long story short, you need to bail someone out of Wobani.”
“Wobani? Are you kidding me? How am I supposed to get in there? You know I never went there. Just because I was with scavengers doesn’t mean I got arrested.”
“I know what it sounds like, but it shouldn’t be too hard. The target is scheduled to be transported in two days. That’s when you hijack the transport and get him out of there. No breaking in to Wobani required.”
“And who’s the target? If I’m gonna be bailing someone out of jail, I gotta know who they are.”
“It’s Commander Burakovsky.” Nate said grimly and, oh. That’s why Andre wouldn’t be going on the mission, he was the mission. Suddenly a lot more was on the line than Tyson’s spot at the proverbial Resistance dinner table. Commander Burakovsky was vital to the Resistance’s fleet, losing him to the Empire’s biggest work camp would be an immeasurable loss.
“I’ll allow you to pick your own crew, but please choose wisely. There’s a lot riding on you” Nate smiled ever so slightly and placed his hand on Tyson’s shoulder. With that gesture, Tyson realized that he was well and truly fucked.
-
The Resistance base was always on the move. Everyone had a job to do and they knew their place. Tyson didn’t live on the base. Too much chaos for him, he’d say if people asked, but the truth was he felt left out. Everyone else fit in like a puzzle piece and Tyson was from a whole different puzzle completely.
He didn’t need to fit in with the rest of the rebels. Tyson’s life was comfortable, even fun, but it was missing the adrenaline and excitement that came from helping the Resistance. If this mission went well, it could earn Tyson a permanent place in the Resistance fleet. At the very least, if they actually rescued Commander Burakovsky, Tyson would be a hero.
Before he could get too ahead of himself, Tyson realized he needed to pick a crew. He could fly with the best of the pilots, but he couldn’t shoot a blaster for shit. He hoped it wouldn’t come to a brawl, but it was always a good idea to have some kind of fighter on a crew.
There really wasn’t much of a choice as to who would fill that role, to Tyson at least. General MacKinnon would probably rather have Tyson take Captain Nieto or even Squad Leader Calvert, but in Tyson’s eyes, no one was better than JT.
JT Compher was the opposite of Tyson in every way imaginable and Tyson loved it. JT was always there, through good and bad, so how could he not be there for this mission?
“No.”
“JT…” Tyson whined. “Why?”
“I’m just fine down here. I have no need for intergalactic adventures.” JT said calmly, not looking away from the blaster he was cleaning.
“C’mon! It’ll be so fun! What else have you got to do?” Tyson poked JT below his ribs and stuck his tongue out. JT frowned and appeared to consider it for a moment.
“If I say yes-” JT shot a glare at Tyson. “If! If I say yes, what’s in it for me?”
“A super awesome space-capade with your best buddy isn’t enough for you?” Tyson laughed at JT’s grimace. “I mean, if this goes well, we’ll be Resistance heroes! And you’d get a real job instead of whatever you do to pass the time when I’m not here.”
“Yeah?” There was a hint of a smile on JT’s face. “Fine. I’m in.”
“Yes!” Tyson fistpumped the air and reached out for a high five from JT. (Which he declined).
-
They had a pilot and a fighter. That could potentially be enough, except for the fact that Wobani was incredibly high security and the transports would likely be as well. Tyson needed to find a techie to disable some of the security systems.
The only problem was that Tyson didn’t know any techies, or even any mechanics that knew their way around an Empire craft. He told JT as much when they were walking to the hangar. The only thing he got from JT was an unhelpful grunt. They kept walking until Tyson felt a small tap on his shoulder. Turning around, there was a guy who looked to be a little shorter than him and a droid that was about a foot taller.
“Hi! I heard you need a techie!” He said brightly.
“How did you hear that?” JT asked suspiciously, but Tyson was already smiling.
“Um, correction. I overheard that you need a techie. Like, when you were walking.” The guy blushed and looked away, clearly embarrassed.
“Are you a techie? Like, can you disable Empire security systems? Hypothetically, of course.” Tyson asked. JT elbowed him in the ribs. “What? I said hypothetically!”
“Hypothetically, I can absolutely do that, given enough time.” The guy crossed his arms an maybe looked a little smug about it. Tyson realized he should probably stop mentally reffering to him as ‘the guy’.
“Wonderful. What’s your name? I’m Tyson, this grump over here is JT.” The latter earned him another swift elbow to the ribs. The guy brushed some curls (very similar to Tyson’s) out of his face.
“I’m Sam! Samuel Girard’s my full name.”
“Nice to meet you Sam!” Tyson said. “I need to confer with my partner and we’ll be back in a moment.” He pulled JT aside, out of Sam’s hearing range. “What do you think? We need a techie and I like him.”
“I don’t know about this, Tys. We don’t know him at all! Why not ask General MacKinnon if there are any other options?” JT whisper-yelled.
“I’ve got a good feeling about him.” They both looked over at Sam, who caught their eyes and immediately looked away and started whistling.
“If we’re going off a gut instinct, it better be real strong. I don’t want to get my throat slit in my sleep by a so-called techie who turns out to be a bounty hunter.” JT’s mouth was set in a frown as he looked at Sam pretending to tinker with his droid.
“He’s not a bounty hunter. I don’t think he’s ever even hurt anyone that bad.” Tyson said, considering Sam.
“And how would you know that?”
“It’s his vibe, JT. I’m excellent at reading vibes and his are impeccable.”
“Impeccable vibes, huh. Well, I guess if he kills me I won’t have to put up with you anymore.”
“Shut up, you know you love me.” Tyson jostled JT’s shoulder and walked back over to Sam. “So, hypothetically, are you down for a space-capade?”
“Stop calling it a space-capade, that’s stupid.” JT interrupted.
“You’re stupid!” Tyson stuck his tongue out at JT.
“I’m totally down for a space-capade. I honestly have nothing better to do.” Sam said, and Tyson grinned.
“See! Space-capade isn’t stupid! The vibes are good, JT. Good vibes.” Tyson slung his arm over Sam’s shoulder. “I like you already. This is gonna be awesome!”
-
It was, in fact, awesome. The three of them worked well together. Tyson was, as usual, the glue that held everything together. Sam was similar to JT in the sense that they were both subdued and focused, but that’s where the similarities ended.
Tyson was a little too much, all the time. JT rarely ever showed emotion unless it was deemed an absolute necessity. Sam was in the healthy middle. He smiled and messed around but never crossed a line. Tyson envied his ability to know when to stop.
As soon as they were debriefed completely by General MacKinnon, Sam was itching to ‘get to work’ on the ship. Tyson didn’t know what that entailed, exactly, but he was hesitant to let anyone near the Avalanche.
The Avalanche was Tyson’s ship. He’d bought it by saving every last credit. He’d starved in order to get that ship. Anyone else would say it was a junkyard-worthy pile of scrap, but to Tyson it meant everything.
The Avalanche was an old Empire cruiser shuttle with additional fire power. The scavenger Tyson had bought it from had outfitted the top with a turret and added a bigger engine. As soon as Tyson could afford to spend more credits, he painted the outside a nice silver, which only added to the disjointed look. It wasn’t the nicest ship, but it was small and fast and it did it’s job well. The cockpit of the Avalanche is where Tyson felt the most comfortable. He’d learned to fly in that ship with a handful of scavenger/slavers on his tail. There was no greater comfort in the universe than the ratty pilot’s seat with the one broken spring.
When Sam said he wanted to tweak the ship a little, Tyson was nervous. Sam understood however, and promised to run every change by Tyson first. First, Sam showed Tyson an issue with the main engine cooling systems. The pipes were run through in an inefficient way that lead to the engine overheating too quickly and effectively shutting the Avalanche down. Or at least, that’s what Sam said. Tyson stopped understanding when he said “main engine cooling systems”.
After Sam took him through the entire process of re-fitting the entire cooling system, Tyson decided to let him do whatever he wanted to the Avalanche. As much as he cared for the ship, the pilot only had so long of an attention span. Besides, he trusted Sam enough to believe that he wouldn’t do anything to harm the Avalanche.
While Sam was doing whatever he was doing to fix up the ship, Tyson and JT went to outfit the crew and get supplies. They only had so many credits, but there hopefully wouldn’t be a need for much more than a handful of stick-on timed grenades and a few portions of food, (“road snacks!” Tyson justified to JT). And one tauntaun blanket (off a roadkill trader, Tyson wasn’t an animal) that was completely unjustified but Tyson just really wanted it. They killed time for a couple hours and then went back to the hanger to get ready. Or at least pretend like they’re ready.