@cravked​ // Trilla Suduri

gcdlys​ // Ursa Wren

“Sabine!” Ursa calls, pulling off her helmet as she strides forwards. Vizsla hadn’t lead her astray. Her daughter’s armor was unmistakable. She can’t stop the relief that creeps into her voice - part of her family is alive and well, her worst fears for now abated. Clan Wren survives. (More importantly, her daughter does, her firstborn baby, and Ursa’s more glad for that than words could say.) “It is…good to see you.” That can’t begin to describe it. Certain she’ll fail, she doesn’t bother to try.

For Sabine Wren! @call-me-spectre-five​

That voice is unmistakable. It’d been years since she heard its timbre and tone, years since their name rolled off the tongue so easily. From behind them is a shout, and with it is a tide of emotion Sabine hadn’t let themself feel for weeks at a time.

“Buir?”

Shock weighed her feet to the ground, unable to move except to drink in the figure before them. The hands that had taught her how to hold a blaster, had shown them how to forge the armor of their people. Eyes that had watched Sabine as they taught Tristan how to spar, (eyes that had cast judgement on her decision to leave). Shining beskar’gam, patterns so familiar it hurt. Here she was, Ursa Wren, but Sabine couldn’t bring themself to believe it. Still frozen in shock, the young Mandalorian felt tears well in her eyes as they looked upon their mother, back from the grave.

“Is it-- I...It’s really you?”

@cravked​ // trilla suduri

hindsight was twenty-twenty, or so people said, and there were a handful of ways in which trilla saw that to be true now. she had been a bit obsessive as a child, about the idea of being the best, and looked to improve her skills in whatever way that she had. although arrogance had plagued her as an inquisitor, it hadn’t been entirely blown out of narcissistic proportions. every skill that cere had, she had taken the time to master. she had learned even more with the empire. they may have still carried the red-bladed lightsaber with them, concealed underneath their coat, but their greatest skill would always be their brain.

trilla was well aware of the mechanics of most speeders, capable of fixing quite a few things when with the right tool. still, she did not expect the stranger to hand her a soldier tool. she hesitated, staring at it as it was extended for a long moment and debating walking away. but she was supposed to be better. she wanted to be better. she took it, but did not hold back the annoyed sigh.

“does my name really make that much of a difference, if it’ll fix this piece of junk?” for someone who did not have much money to their name, she could still be an occasional snob. the empire had many downsides, but she’d never had to deal with anything other than state of the art equipment as an inquisitor. a beat passed, stepping closer so that she could examine the problem with the speeder herself. “trilla,” she threw out after a few moments of silence. “you might be able to get it running for a bit longer, but that engine is going to breakdown on you if you pick up any proper speed.”

Sabine let out a short chuckle.

“Yeah, I learned that the hard way,” they responded. “About two times today, and once yesterday, actually,” she smirked. 

This visitor, Trilla, had an odd way of thinking about things. They allowed themself to wonder-- what could cause a person to maintain that attitude, while still being generous enough to help a stranger unprompted? Or, if not acting out of kindness, then what did Trilla need from Sabine? What debt would be owed?

Taking in the silence, they reached in their bag for another tool so the two could multitask at once. They worked in busy stillness, occasionally passing each other a tool or handing off a bit of cable or scrap metal to tie loose ends together. While it certainly was not neat (in fact, it was a quite messy job-- but, hey, she wanted to get the bike back before it was good for nothing but scrap metal), it appeared doable. When the silence seemed to linger in the air too long, she started humming an old song under their breath. It was barely more than a mumble, but it was all they needed to fill the quiet.The melody rang familiar on their tongue, just as it once had in the great halls of Mandalorian warriors long since fallen. They were interrupted when, with a loud POP!, the bike belched out a wisp of dark smoke.

“Osi’kyr!” She gasped, an exclamation of surprise, followed by a small mutter of disgust and frustration. “Haar’chak. What am I going to do now?”

swishycapes​ // Lando Calrissian

that wasn’t quite the reaction that they expected out of them when he clapped her on the back, but it doesn’t stop the short chortle that escaped from his lips in response. sometimes, he forgot that they weren’t quite the kid that he had known them to be so many years ago –– that all of that was so far in the past, really. lando still viewed them that way, even if her current state of intoxication indicated some form of young adulthood. if anything, getting like that in an event like this was the classic sign of her age. he didn’t blame them, he’d never shied away from such a thing.

“oh, i’m sure you like to think that,” lando laughed easily in response. gambling had always been a problem for him, even if he didn’t admit to how serious it had been at some points in his life. he didn’t want it to be a problem, so he didn’t treat it like one.

it didn’t matter what the exact result was, he would have been content with either. “i’m not afraid of a little high. i’m quite content with it, actually, given i’d usually have to pay for this kind of thing.”

A wonderful luminescence filtered through the bubbles in their drink, and she lifted the glass up to the light to see it better. Someone jostled past, and a few delicate drops passed from cocktail glass to skin, blouse, lips. Another time, they could have been angry at the carefully crafted fabric so easily ruined, but not tonight. Worries could wait another rotation.

“H-here’s to a night of freedom, my friend!”

Sabine’s smile felt too warm and too wide, but she didn’t care! How could they, when everything was finally going so well?

“Clari-- Calrissian,” they stumbled, “you seem like someone who knows how to. How to bring a party wherever they go, huh? Tell me, know any good drinking games?”

❝  what’s with that look ?  ❞ ( from kallus / cptfulcrum )

@cptfulcrum

“Hm?” Sabine asked, looking up from where the loth-cat had just torn apart some old papers of theirs. The documents themselves weren’t too important, but it was a hassle to clean up, nonetheless. “Oh, nothing. Blue is just making a mess again.” They lifted the cat so Kallus could see him over the holo-call, “But the little troublemaker says hi! Say hey, Blueberry!” They grinned, and scratched the small furball between his ears. “I think he likes you, Kallus.”

“Do I look like the kind of man who dies?“ ( from poe )

“If your flying is really as good as half of the Base makes it out to be, then death shouldn’t even be a concern of ours. Besides-- this mission is supposed to be a piece of cake!”

Still, the shuddering of turbulence gave her reasonable pause. Surely everything would go smoothly on an operation as simple as this...right?

@galaxywon

l  closed starter  l  @mvchinery​

The library was more expansive than they’d imagined. Shelves towering high with data, information to borrow and return. Most things were stored electronically, but others were actual physical copies. There were whole sections devoted to the Clone Wars, the rise and fall of the Empire. Another just on the history of the Old Republic. It was a wonder to wander; a feat that almost rivaled the archives of Sundari on their home planet of Mandalore. So enthralled in the grand design of this house of knowledge was Sabine that they felt the collision before they saw it.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to--” She scrambled to pick up any fallen materials before meeting the stranger’s gaze. Something in her demeanor caught their attention, but they couldn’t quite place what. It was just recognizable to prompt the question, but not enough to draw a name. “I’m sorry, but you look familiar. Do I know you?”

@beskarbuir​ // din djarin

──   A  HIDDEN  SMILE  FLICKERS,  hinted at with the slightest incline of the helm,  likely read with ease.  well  …  he wouldn’t regard tatooine so harshly,  but he’s known the threats of the land and remains gratuitous towards tuskens who had made traversing such a place bearable.   maybe even agreeable,  while in their company.   the hunter takes heed,  carefully considering her words,  noting how she flutters on the topic.   ‘ just something to keep the ship flying and stomach full, you know ? ’  he understands this well  ─  the mutual circumstance of earning their keep.   she spoke more than he would have,  offered more than he would have,  and he tucks that observation away;  the smallest fraction of himself acquiesces to trust.   even so,  half-curled hands at the sides indicate a wariness imprinted upon him over the years. 

at her proposal,  a tongue runs along the back of his teeth,  as if counting.   most similar situations ended with undesired outcomes,  something he’d been extraordinarily unlucky with in recent memory.   however,  the most invaluable allies had been gained through coaction.   din holds her most visible weapons under scrutiny:  a reasonable personal arsenal, though admittedly,  the beskar would be more than enough.   the bounty wasn’t meager,  either,  and the final confrontation had a chance to languish.  a pause is given to measure the odds. 

pragmatism eventually tides suspicion.  ❝  if we did, it’ll be a quick job for both of us.  ❞  they briefly glance to the horizon,  the destination,  the coming pursuit.  ❝   …  even split in earnings,  and there’s a deal.  ❞

The agreement came quickly. Half the credits each, and the bounty was as good as secured. Sabine had even offered to throw in a bottle of spotchka for the other if the target was acquired before sunsdown. After all, hunting didn’t have to be just business. Why not add a little bit of fun to an already interesting situation?

It had taken a little over an hour’s ride to meet the signal on the tracking fob. The near-endless sand wastes led them to a dusty village good for little more than moisture farming and aggrandized storytelling. Still, by the looks of the settlements, the decorations on doors, there seemed to be immigrants from planets all across the galaxy. It was a good place for refugees to hide out without prying eyes (even the ex-ISB agent they were looking for). Sabine felt a jolt of unease at the size of the town. She really didn’t like endangering innocents if it could be avoided. 

As they trekked through a bustling marketplace, Sabine couldn’t help but notice the stares the two attracted. No doubt one Mandalorian in this corner of the planet was a rarity, let alone two. She was used to these looks, the glares accumulated from childhood on. From the painted beskar’gam to their ever-changing hair (now concealed neatly beneath a similarly colorful helmet), it was easy to draw attention. For just a moment, they wondered if the other warrior felt the same way, if attention hounded at his heels no matter where they traveled. In her experience, it was far easier to be alone. Not just easier, but safer. Still, there was a job to finish (and perhaps an allyship to be formed).

“Time to get to work. You happen to know the area any better than I do, by chance?”

📜 – kanan

Sabine: I am not out of control! I'm a law abiding citizen! Kanan: Really? Name one law Sabine: Don't kill people? Kanan: That's on me. I set the bar too low.

(bonus!)

Sabine: I think I'm having a mid-life crisis. Kanan: You're like 15 years old Sabine: I MIGHT DIE AT 30!

@sacreficied 

@cravked​ // Trilla Suduri

even if she no longer felt any kind of loyalty to the empire, or any dependency on the dark side of the force like she had for so long, it would have been a foolish mistake to label trilla as a nice, friendly person. there was still empathy that blossomed inside of her chest, a desire to help people that she did not like to admit existed, but she was all rough edges on the exterior, intense stares and snappy comments that weren’t necessarily underlain with some kind of care. many pieces of who she had been in the past had been recovered in the last two years of isolation and healing, but there were some aspects of her people skills that still needed work.

navigating their way back to the city is no particular challenge for her. although trilla was not particularly familiar with the area, her senses were especially sharp with the use of the living force around her, sensing problems long before they could arise and correcting appropriately. there’s not much of a nicer place to stop in front of, given where they were. but it was water and food, and a chance for the other to get some assistance better for their own long-term goals.

“no.” it wasn’t an interesting answer by any means as trilla stepped inside of the cantina, glancing back to make sure that they were still following. “i don’t like crowds,” she offered as some half-assed explanation, the truth infinitely more complicated than anything that she was willing to explain to a stranger. but despite the lack of interest that she’d displayed before, she did have some questions for them, waiting until they had seated in an otherwise empty corner. “so what’s someone with armor like that doing stuck in the middle of nowhere?” she knew their reputation, at least. “bounty gone wrong?”

At the mention of their armor, she froze. Once content to explain the significance of the metal, the pride that came with bearing its weight, Sabine now bit the inside of their cheek. After...after everything that had happened to Mandalore, the only strangers that asked questions were the ones who saw the metal she bore as a prize, a husk to be shucked and taken as spoils of war. So often these people thought her disposable, some sick challenge to defeat in order to stake their claim to the only piece of her family she had left. It was a move more than one piece of bantha shit had tried to pull on them before. Trilla didn’t seem like a person with ill intentions; they appeared to be a fatigued traveler, just as herself. But the Mandalorian had been wrong before, and the price for this kind of misjudgment was not forgiving.

“Something like that, yeah.” They exhaled thickly, glancing now across the restaurant, scanning for threats. For escape routes. Their breathing quickened as she remembered all of the times she’d been trapped in places like this. Was it safe here? Was someone after them? Who was this person at the table in front of her, to offer their help and accept no thanks? Muscles tensed, and Sabine forced their breathing to slow down. 

Think, chakaar. You can’t keep yourself safe if you’re not calm. The Empire isn’t here. Just talk.

“I came here on the good word of a friend, looking for information. But, all I got was a busted speeder bike and a waste of my ship’s fuel.” A hush fell as Sabine thought of the lightsaber hilt, lying in wait on Trilla’s waist. Flashbacks of the scarlet blades, of eyes filled with hatred and hearts without mercy. Being hunted ruthlessly as a child, guilty by association. Being hunted now. Fingers drummed anxiously on the table. Surely the person in front of her couldn’t be-- If they’d wanted to kill her, they would have done it by now.

“What about you? Can I ask how you found yourself in this backwater system?”

@cptfulcrum​ // Alexsandr Kallus

As  much  as  this  would  have  shocked  his  former  self,  Kallus  genuinely  cared  about  each  of  the  Spectres.  He  knew  his  friendship  with  Zeb  helped  with  that.  He  cared  about  the  Lasat,  so  of  course  he  would  care  for  Zeb’s  family.  It  wasn’t  all  that  however.  They  hadn’t  treated  him  horribly  after  his  defection,  something  that  he  still  thought  he  deserved.  They  were  dedicated  rebels,  accomplished  strategists,  caring  people.  He  was  lucky  to  have  friends  like  them,  especially  now,  when  everything  felt  like  it  was  falling  apart.  He  knew  that  Sabine  could  relate  to  that.  They  all  could  now.  

He  was  being  protective.  It  wasn’t  necessary,  not  with  Sabine.  They  cared  for  Zeb  as  much  as  he  did  if  not  more.  It  was  an  interesting  relationship,  theirs  was.  Maybe  it  was  because  he’s  never  had  anything  like  that  before.  “  I’m  sorry.  “  he  expels  a  breath,  focusing  in  on  the  way  they  chipped  the  dirt  off  of  their  armor.  “  I  know  you  mean  well.  Zeb  is  lucky  to  have  such  caring  friends.  I  just….  “  he  trailed  off,  running  a  hand  through  his  beard.  Having  friends  was  sometimes  much  harder  than  not  having  them.  “  We  were  happy  on  Lira  San.  “  he  admitted,  quieter  than  before.  “  We  were  happy.  “  It  felt  like  so  long  ago,  before  they  had  heard  of  Ezra’s  death  and  before  he  had  decided  to  leave.  It  felt  like  a  long  time  ago,  but  it  hadn’t  been  a  great  length  of  time.

“  I  just  want  him  to  continue  to  be  happy.  “  Kallus  confided,  sucking  in  another  breath.  It  was  only  tactful  to  ignore  the  tears  that  Sabine  was  letting  out,  just  as  she  was  ignoring  the  ones  threatening  to  fall  from  his  eyes.  He  hadn’t  truly  cried  in  a  long  time.  He  started  towards  his  back,  quietly.  He  thought  about  Sabine’s  words.  They  were  both  Imperial  defectors,  though  she  was  much  better  than  he.  It  took  him  almost  two  decades  to  figure  out  what  they  had  before  they  even  graduated  the  Academy.  “  I  wouldn’t  go  comparing  yourself  to  the  likes  of  me.  “  he  said,  hoping  his  tone  sounded  as  light  as  he  wanted  it  to.  His  eyes  met  theirs  and  he  nodded.  That  was  one  thing  they  could  agree  on  at  least.  “  Would  it  be  quite  childish  of  me  to  suggest  a  race?  “  he  grinned,  already  mounting  his  speeder,  hoping  that  maybe  they  could  ignore  the  despair  they  both  felt  for  just  a  bit.  

As  he  rode  through  the  desert  his  hair  whipped  around  him.  He  should  have  tied  it  up  before  starting  this  journey.  It  had  grown  much  longer.  The  Empire  would  never  have  stood  for  that.  It  made  him  grin  to  himself  at  the  thought.  The  more  he  changed,  the  more  he  rebelled  against  what  the  Empire  instilled  in  him,  the  more  he  felt  like  he  was  finally  becoming  who  he  meant  to  be.  

“It would only be childish if you lost!” Sabine shouted as they mounted the speeder bike, already racing over the terrain with a wide smile. The wind did nothing for the silent tears hidden beneath her visor. Fuck. She hated crying, but found herself doing it so much lately...Instead, they redirected attention to the passing foliage, the colors that blended and swirled around her. 

Kallus was no stranger to a speeder, it was obvious, but she was sure she had more practical experience. He might have studied at the Academy, but Sabine had been riding since they were a child, since the occupation of the Empire on Mandalore. How he saw in that nest of hair, they couldn’t imagine, but somehow he actually caught an edge on her, turned a corner with more agility and speed than they thought possible.

“Oh, no you don’t!”

They took a risk, cutting through the underbrush, hoping it would help close the gap, but--

“Second place? Dank farrik, Kallus. I’ve got to hand it to you, you know your way around a speeder bike, old man.” They taunted with a sly upturn of the lip. “C’mon, first round’s on me.”