❝ You Got Some Talent , Kiddo ! ❞ ( Iden )

cravked​ // Trilla Suduri

the tension was written all over the stranger. trilla had been arrogant as an inquisitor, considered herself to be extremely talented at everything that they put their mind too –– there had been a degree of truth behind it, too. in the years that they had served, they had been regarded with a high degree. she’d been an extremely deadly tracker because of her ability to read and predict the behavior of other sentient beings, accompanied by her natural precognitive abilities that relied on the force. still, they would have had to be blind to miss the stranger’s sudden tension. even then, she wasn’t sure that she could have been oblivious. the lack of real response only solidified that.

didn’t quite sound like much of a bounty, but trilla’s interest in the matter did not run that deep, so long as it had nothing to do with them. “i can’t imagine a place like this has much information.” except this kind of place was also perfect for hiding, laying low, something that they already happened to know rather well, given it was something to do with the fact of why she was there in the first place. but she’d already given the stranger more honesty than she was owed, and did not feel obligated to share more.

“you can ask.” there was a beat of awkward silence after their words, as though she did not intend on answering sabine. “i prefer to have a bit of privacy. there aren’t usually a lot of talkative people around these parts,” she gestured to the remainder of the cantina. “you stick out in a multitude of ways.”

The response was just about what Sabine expected. A quiet life was hard to come by, especially when the Empire was still in control. Even now that most ex-Imperials and their sympathizers no longer held power, it was still difficult. There had been more than one occasion where they had to fight to escape the prison of recognition. The Mandalorian didn’t concern themself with trying to figure out what ghosts Trilla was running from; she had enough of her own.

But something about their last comment gnawed at Sabine, dug under their skin. Maybe she didn’t mean much by it, but then again, maybe she did. It felt pointed, a jab at how few of her kind were truly left. Each implication hung in the air between them, and it stung a bit more than she was comfortable with.

“Yeah.” They sighed. “I do. I guess it’s always been like that.”

Their mind wandered then, and they thought about the armor, the vibrant paint it carried in sand dunes and ice wastes alike. That metal that was now so precious to others. How they would have no one to pass it on to according to the Creed...

“I guess I never said thanks. For the help with the bike, and the ride.” She bit her lower lip as they passed the menu card to the stranger. They didn’t feel much like eating right now.

sacreficied​ // Kanan Jarrus

a huff of laughter pushed out of his nose and he nodded his head in agreement. no, something being hard had never discouraged them all from doing something –– it had only made them get a little more creative with how they had approached it. but he would give the others credit for that before himself, easily viewing them all as vastly superior to his own. he had his own strengths, that was just one that he saw being more advanced in the others.

“oh, absolutely,” kanan agreed with a deep chuckle escaping, giving a nod of his head as his arms folded across his broad chest. they would have all been lost without hera, not just him –– something that he was painfully aware of. “we’d all be lost without them.”

a beat passes, something heavier clearly laying on his mind from the crease between his brow. “if i had to choose between, i know the choice i’d make. i just hope i never have to make that choice.”

Their smile turned somber once again with his dire words of sacrifice and loss. He doesn’t have to tell her the choice he’d make because they’d already lived it. The aftermath of his decision to protect Hera, to protect all of the crew that Sabine called aliit--  it weighed on them both. Weighed on all of the Spectre crew, really, but it sat in between them in the here and now.

“Yeah, me, too.” The tone-shift was heavy and awkward to navigate, something she didn’t really want to adopt right now. With everything that had happened in the last few years, loss was always on the forefront of their mind-- often partnered with guilt. “Still, uh, we’ve always been lucky enough to have each other.” Almost always. “What’s on your mind, Kanan?”

cravked​ // Trilla Suduri

there was the slightest urge to ask why that was, if it had to do with the armor that the other wore or something that wore deeper. those pieces of empathy that had been such a marked part of her personality when she had been a child were rising up inside of her, despite how they had tried to bury them. they were out of practice with it, she supposed, the entire reason that they had even given the stranger a bit of help when there had been no real motivation or advantage to doing so, other than some sense of goodness driving them. 

“some people are just like that.” it’s an offer somewhere between, space for the other to talk about it if they so wished to, but not forcing it or asking quite so directly. that was just as much for her own sake as it was for theirs, she thought, but it didn’t matter. after today, what were the chances that they really ran into each other again? it was a large galaxy.

then again, if kestis was any evidence…

trilla shrugged, “it was no problem.” that much was true at least. they took the menu with little real interest. “so where will you go from here?”

Questions wedged themselves between the two, a hesitancy held by both parties. In the checkered silence, Sabine wondered if the other was ever the kind to stand out-- surely the lightsaber at their hip did.

“I’m not sure yet. I don’t have the intel I was looking for, but I knew it was a long shot when I landed, so I’m not too surprised.”

She picked at some stain on the table, a topography of other dining patrons, other conversations struck and bargains paid. Dim lights shone down around the bar, though most of the room was draped in comfortable shadow. Muffled music was spitting from broken speakers a few feet away. There, Sabine sat, painfully aware of everything, every sense filled to the brim.

“Might visit an old friend or two.” Somewhere she wouldn’t stand out. Somewhere Sabine knew they belonged. “And you? Are you staying here, or are you heading off-world?” There was a quick pause, a desire to run. Overruled. The Mandalorian took a sharp breath, reminding themself that there was no war to be found here. No enemy to run from. Yet.

“My ship has room for another passenger, if ever you want to let me repay the debt.”

She only half-expected Trilla to take up the offer, but it was the polite thing to do. Shit, without their help, Sabine might still be stranded a number of klicks away, walking the wrong direction. I wouldn’t be the first time, but every time, they wished it was the last.

Investigation at Hosk

Location: Kalarba, the ruins of Hosk Station

From orbit, the planet seemed scarred. Every plants’ branches had snapped, and every leaf was coated in a film of ash. Rolling pits littered the surface where life had once teemed in abundance. Grey mist hung in the air, a bitter mixture of smoke and ash from the searing flames of debris. Some fires, still lit, pulsed hungrily around them like a gundark in desperate search of its prey. 

Iden had sent Sabine a brief manifesto detailing everything the Rebellion knew about the crash-- which was, unfortunately, not much. What had piqued their interest, however, was the apparent villain behind this new act of terrorism. Supposedly, those who had witnessed the damage firsthand seemed to have reason to suspect Imperials-- or, at least, their technologies. The simple thought of this was enough to make Sabine’s stomach churn in unease. If it was true, if that broken system of oppression had returned to take the lives of so many people...well, it wouldn’t help them sleep at night.

When she had read the name written on Iden’s message and quickly realized it was unfamiliar to her, the mission seemed suddenly less solemn.They liked to stay relatively connected within the social network of the Rebellion (though it was always possible to miss a few people along the way). Sabine knew next to nothing about this person-- and that’s exactly what compelled her to greet his arrival with a smile and an outstretched hand.

“Cal Kestis, I assume? Nice to meet you. The name’s Sabine Wren.”

@lcstpadawan​ // cal kestis

@generalspectre​ // Hera Syndulla

Hera  still,  after  two  years  of  peace,  struggled  with  the  idea  of  quiet  nights.  With  Jacen  sleeping  quietly  in  his  bunk,  they  sat  on  the  ramp,  cup  of  Ryl  tea  in  hand.  If  she  closed  her  eyes  she  could  feel  like  she  was  home.  They  heard  the  speeder  bike  before  they  saw  it  and  their  lekku  perked  when  they  recognized  the  painted  Mandalorian  armor.  “  Sabine  !!  “  they  called,  tea  forgotten  as  she  jumped  up,  moving  down  the  rest  of  the  ramp  to  wait  outside  the  ship.    Maybe  it  wouldn’t  be  as  quiet  as  she  originally  thought. 

@call-me-spectre-five​​  

After a long night of thought, Sabine had made up their mind. Surely Hera had understood their need for time and space, but the grieving period was finally drawing to a close. Of course, the pain would always stick with her, but the best thing they could do now was surround themself with those that truly loved them. She needed to remember what it was like to be loved, and to practice it in full. The war had taken so much from her, had stripped her of friends and family members alike, but at least there were still a few people left that cared. As they had hoped, their surprise visit was well-retrieved.

“Hera!” They pulled each other into an embrace and Sabine allowed herself-- for the first time in weeks-- to truly feel held.

“Thought you could use some company. How are you and Jacen? And Kanan?” 

generally-scheming​ // armitage hux

“Buckethead?” Hux turned to the petty officer stationed nearby. “They do know that officers don’t wear…” A pilot glanced back at Hux from under a rounded helmet that flared dramatically at the base. Hux cleared his throat.

“Bold talk, rebel scum. If you’re so confident, why don’t you come a bit closer?” He gazed out from the bridge of the light command cruiser he’d acquired for what was meant to be a stealth patrol. The rebel ship hailing them was just beyond range of their turbolasers.

“Oya, cyar’ika, at least buy me dinner before you start the sweet-talking, okay?” Sabine teased with an amusement that was only half nerves. Their Rebel ship was still out of range. She just needed time to calculate the hyperspace route. “The again, you’re not really my type. And, I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess I’m not really yours, huh?”

The speaker had some sort of pride, they figured. Something to prove. Probably has a shit-ton of people under their ranks, but was still starving for blood, for a chance to be the best. Sabine had seen this type before. It was all too easy to piss them off, and it brought a genuine smile to their face.

“Listen, I’d love to stick around for that date, general,” she emphasized the title for effect (hopefully the other officers were listening). “But I think I’m gonna take a rain check.” Silently, they diverted power to the hyperdrive, but didn’t yet signal for the jump. She wanted to hear first if there were any parting remarks. Much as they hated what little remains of the Empire were left, she did enjoy this kind of banter. And who knows? Maybe they’d run into each other again.

Holonet Interview

     “What is your full name (middle name included)? Does it have meaning from your home planet?”

“Sabine Wren is my given name. Sabine is an ancient family name, tracing back to some great-great-grand-something ancestor that helped defend their clan from a mythosaur attack, as the legends go. And Wren because it’s my clan’s surname.” They paused, considering. “I don’t have a middle name. In my clan, we grow into those, kind of like nicknames. I-- I. Well, I didn’t get to that point with my family.”

     “Have you committed any crimes? How many, and what were the reasons behind some?”

“Ha!” They chuckled  from beneath the painted visor. “Have I committed any crimes? Believe it or not, I was in one of the first Rebel cells to fight back against the Empire. Phoenix Squadron caused any kind of trouble you can imagine. Larceny, arson, smuggling, and my personal favorite: destruction of Imperial property. It’s really an art form, if you ask me.”

     “Describe your hands (dirt under the nails, weather-worn, etc.).”

“Well, they’re just about what you’d expect from a Mandalorian. And a mechanic, at that.” She pulled off the leather gloves coated in a film of dust and oil. “See here? That scar’s from a probe droid that exploded a little too close for my comfort. Actually, I think there might still be a bit of shrapnel in there somewhere. But, yeah, cracked and scarred. Still good to repair a droid or fire a blaster, though.”

     “Would you run or fight in a battle? What are the causes?”

“Oh, fight, of course. My people aren’t well-known for running, are we? I try not to take life when I don’t have to, but if it’s between that and the slavery and oppression of a corrupt bureaucracy like the Empire? Fight, no question.”

     “What did your childhood home look like? Have you gone back as an adult?”

“Depends on which one you mean. I was raised on both Mandalore and Krownest, though I’ve only visited one in adulthood. After the Empire slaughtered my people...well, needless to say, I haven’t ventured back to Mandalore. And it’s been years since I’ve last seen the ice plains of Krownest. I’m not particularly eager to visit either any time soon.”

She shook their helm wearily, feeling uneasy about this entire interaction. 

“It’s got a wonderful attack mechanism.”

They raised a brow, feigning the confidence needed of a Rebellion leader. Ears and eyes were on her, always. Time to put on a show.

“Then I guess it’s a good thing we have the wits to outmaneuver whatever you bucketheads throw our way, huh?” Sabine took in a few readings on the console, adjusting the ship’s thrusters for takeoff. “You sure you want to do this, Imp? I don’t want you to start a firefight you can’t finish.”

@cptfulcrum​ // Alexsandr Kallus

Kallus  knew,  just  as  much  as  the  rest  of  them,  how  easy  it  was  to  be  alone.  Solitary  had  been  his  comfort.  As  an  ISB  agent  they  were  conditioned  to  be  on  the  outside.  They  weren’t  in  the  same  chain  of  command  as  the  rest  of  the  Imperial  Navy.  They  were  internal  affairs,  never  trusted.  His  career  had  been  based  in  solitude.  He  hadn’t  realized  until  he  joined  the  Rebellion  that  maybe  he  did  prefer  the  company  of  others.  Others  like  the  Spectres,  like  Zeb  and  Hera  and  Sabine.  “  You  don’t  need  to  explain  yourself.  “  he  countered,  finally  relaxing  his  stance,  hands  moving  into  the  pockets  of  his  jacket.  “  But  do  not  feel  the  need  to  go  through  life  without  us.  We  are  here  for  you.  “  

His  eyes  studied  their  face,  watching  the  way  their  stance  relaxed  slowly.  Alexsandr  didn’t  want  Sabine  to  feel  the  need  to  assure  him  that  everything  was  okay,  but  he  understood  the  reasons  why.  It  was  easy  to  forget  that  they  had  been  at  the  Imperial  Academy.  It  was  a  lesson  ingrained  from  the  very  beginning,  to  not  let  emotions  cloud  ones  judgement.  It  was  something  he  had  taken  to  heart.  As  a  Mandalorian,  he  assumed  it  was  second  nature  to  them.  “  I  am  glad  then.  “  he  didn’t  believe  them,  but  he  also  wouldn’t  argue  now.  Not  when  he  had  just  come  back.  

“  We’ve  been  integrating  Lira  San  with  the  New  Republic.  Very  slowly.  Understandably,  many  are  apprehensive.  Some  survivors  from  Lasan  believe  that  another  attack  in  imminent.  “  he  spoke  mechanically,  not  allowing  his  own  guilt  from  the  event  to  break  through.  Sabine  knew  enough  about  his  past.  “  Garazeb  is  well,  if  that’s  what  you  are  wondering.  Though  he  misses  his  family.  “  he  met  their  eyes  again,  raising  his  brows.  “  If  it  can  be  believed,  we  have  found  as  close  to  a  retirement  as  possible  for  soldiers.  “  At  least  they  had,  before  Ezra  and  their  guilt.  Now  his  mission  for  Thrawn.  “  I  haven’t  heard  any  updates  on  you  as  of  late.  What  have  you  been  doing  ??  “  

Sabine examined Kallus’s face while he spoke, studying how he measured his words and weighed his expressions before speaking to them. There was more he wanted to say, she was sure, but they weren’t about to pry. His words echoed in their ears. We are here for you. 

Dank farrik, Sabine had been stupid. With their wandering about the galaxy with no contact, it was not surprising that Zeb had sent Kallus to check on her. The rest of the Ghost crew, they must be worried. That same feeling of shame boiled in the pit of their stomach, but they smiled to Kallus, nodding as he spoke about her old friend and his people. She knew how difficult it must be for Kallus to be on Lira San, how guilty he must feel. Still, they knew how hard he was trying-- and how much it meant to Zeb that he was there.

“I am...glad to hear you and Zeb are doing well.” She paused, wondering if they should voice their next thought. “You...deserve that, you know. A peaceful life away from the politics and danger of it all. You both do.”

When nothing was said to fill the silence between them, Sabine continued, finally answering the question she had been trying to avoid.

“I guess you haven’t heard from me because I haven’t really been in the action. I’m still with the Rebellion, just not in the heart of the fight. At least, not right now. I’ve been...” They hesitated, knowing that whatever she said would be repeated to her old friend. “I mean, you know how slow it is, trying to chase dead leads on information for the Rebellion. It’s an unreliable business. But, I’m glad you’re settled down now. Your days of action over, right?”

@spectreoflasan​ // Zeb Orrelios

Zeb pushed their way through the crowd of overdressed and obviously high partygoers. It would be funny – karabast, it was funny – but it would be funnier if it weren’t so surreal. He recognized plenty of faces in the crowd, but the last time he saw most of them they were back at Rebel headquarters wearing fatigues and anxious looks. If the war really was over, every one of them deserved a celebration; Zeb was the last person who’d deny them that. But Zeb was still having the damndest time shaking that ‘if.’ It had kept them away from the spiked desserts – if anyone decided to make trouble for the fledgling New Republic, they’d need their wits about them – but between Zeb’s general sense of displacement and their unexpectedly complicated conversation with Kallus, they found themself on the way to the bar. Zeb could handle a drink.

As he arrived at the bar, though, he came across someone who clearly could not. Or had chosen not to. Their slurred speech made his ears perk up. Karabast. Zeb intercepted a drink on its way into their hands and threw the bartender a dirty look.

“Right, I’ll say you’ve had enough. I’m cutting you off.”

​

“Wh-hoa! Zeb!” They let out a squeal reminiscent of a little kid (or a broken tea kettle), throwing her hands up in the air in excitement. “Ho-ly Kriff, it’s been so loooooong!” They started to stand from the barstool but stumbled, tripping over the metal and landing in a heap in his arms. She let out an elongated giggle. When was the last time that happened? She reached for the drink in her older brother’s hands, but they moved it away too quickly.

“c’mon, Zeb! I thought you were cool,” they pouted. “Wha-- What? Did yer stupid b-boyfriend put you up to this?” She tried to stand on her own but everything rocked around her. She leaned against Zeb begrudgingly. “Hmph. Dumb Kallus.”