Words Started To Stick Together And Bottles Seemed More Empty Than Before. Something In The Room Had

sabine wren

“i left to save everyone!”

generally-scheming​ // Armitage Hux

Hux scowled, recollecting her irritating and unprofessional banter during their last battle. It had been a week before the petty officers stopped giggling when they thought he wasn’t looking. His eyes darted around the bistro like a cornered animal. They had positioned themself between him and the exit, and Hux was not fool enough to start a knife fight with a Mandalorian.   (Not even one who had foregone beskar for a shimmering gown. At least it met the establishment’s dress code.)   The only move was to stay, figure out how much she really knew, and deny everything.

“No.”  Hux raised a hand to halt the waiter.  “The Merlot from Tal'onidir wineries will do. Two glasses of the most recent vintage.”  As they retreated, Hux turned his gaze back on the Mandalorian rebel.  “The last vintage, that is, before the vineyard burned. But you know all about that. The Empire would never have brought Mandalore so easily to its knees without your contributions, would they, Wren?”

Hux’s expression soured as the name rolled off his tongue. That syllable came preloaded with animosity for a different target; it felt wrong. He refocused on hiding his mounting anxiety. In conversation as on the battlefield, the best defense was a good offense.  “All this wild speculation about my love life, as if I have that kind of time. Does someone have a crush? What ever would your family think? I suppose we’ll never know.”

.

His eyes flitted around the room, no doubt searching for exits. But she knew he wouldn’t act so quickly if he didn’t have to. Hux wasn’t the kind to cause a scene if it could be avoided. They could tell he was starting to get defensive. Good. The anger could easily be mistaken for attack, but Sabine could read him better than that. When he snapped, it was out of pure self-preservation. In this way, Sabine disregarded the comment about the wine, shrugging it off with a wave of her hand. They’d done their research and come prepared. She had time for mourning and regret later, but for a man like this? He didn’t deserve any of her emotions. Instead, eyebrows raised in a practiced flirt, an attempt to sow discontent from the growing tension. They reflected on the informants she’d taken weeks to track down, the spies she’d had to weigh truth and lies from. One specific canary came to the forefront of their mind, and she rephrased their words with a gentle lilt.

“Well, it takes two to tango, doesn’t it, Armitage? And from what I hear, you have quite the taste for destruction, yourself. I mean, I can’t help but notice how familiar my surname is to you. Just a letter away, really. You have history with not one Ren, but two, am I right?”

The server returned with the requested bottle, and she nodded thanks as the glasses filled. Though their stomach churned at the idea of savoring something created by the people she’d helped destroy, Sabine didn’t let that sway her attitude. This persona, this mask, it was carefully curated just for him. (And wouldn’t that just flatter him to know?) There was no time to falter.

“Perhaps they wouldn’t be too pleased. But, then, dear old dad wouldn’t be too proud of your wine and dine with a Mandalorian, would he?”

Sabine smirked into their glass, before raising it in a mock toast.

“To forbidden romances.” They whispered, just loud enough for the general to hear. Perhaps that old adage still held some measure of truth. You can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. And even if it wasn’t right, oh, was it fun.

cravked​ // Trilla Suduri

although it had been forced upon them, trilla had not been a child prepared for war. too soft, with a preference for things to be right or wrong. the clone wars hadn’t offered any of that. the empire hadn’t, either, but they had also broken her of those things entirely. they were still recovering pieces of the past, deciding which were worth holding onto.

“did you expect something else? the only thing most people know about hapans is that they abhor outsiders.” even she knew barely more than that, despite their frequent efforts to be as prepared as possible. it was that piece of fear that still lived inside of them. her brow twitched at the change of subject. “thank you,” a beat passed. “you look very… colorful. is that normal for you, or are you making a statement?”

.

The Mandalorian chewed on their words before committing to response. In truth, there wasn’t much she knew about their hosts-- other than the fact that they hoarded what clearly didn’t belong to them. This was a place of war, they could tell that much. But beyond that, Sabine knew strikingly little.She welcomed the change of tone, greeted it with an apathetic smile.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, I suppose,” they nodded in the silence. “And, both, I suppose. Without my armor, I’ve got to find some way to stand out, right?” She half-heartedly joked, tapping the rim of her drink in an unsteady rythym of anxiety. “Can I ask what you’re doing here? This doesn’t really seem like your kind of function.”

generally-scheming​ // Armitage Hux

Another ostentatious gala. Hux had no choice but to attend now that the Hapes Consortium’s alliance with the New Republic posed a threat. This time Hux kept to the shadows at the edge of the party, only listening — and certainly not eating or drinking anything he was offered. As Hux checked the time, his shoulders tensed. He’d heard of the preposterous New Republic tradition of kissing as the clock struck midnight, and he knew Alton Kastle was at this party. He hoped the reporter would not be foolish enough to try something so incriminating in public. Sure enough, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Hux mentally prepared his ‘we mustn’t, not here, we can’t be seen,’ but as soon as he turned he stopped dead.

“Not you.”

.

Sabine should have expected he’d be at a party like this. Nothing like a gala to bring out both the best and worst in the galaxy. They shouldn’t have been surprised when she noticed the general standing on the edges of the party, no doubt sulking too much to enjoy a drink or two. Pity.

“What’s wrong, Armitage? Expecting someone else?”

She took a short sip from the drink poised delicately in their hand. Something light and fruity, and nothing too alcoholic; there was work to be done, after all. But that plot wouldn’t be set in motion for another hour or two. For now, they had time to mill around, to act as though she wasn’t standing on the bones of her people.

“That’s, what, two dates now? And still no first kiss. I’m starting to feel like you don’t like me, Armitage.”

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?”

chaotickylia​ // kylia horne

Kylia beams with a brilliant light. Happiness and warmth wrap around her body like a blanket in the cold. She’s filled with joy and she’s trying to remember the last time she had felt this way or this free, but she realizes that it doesn’t matter! She’s in the moment with her new friend and they seem to be rather comfortable with each other’s company and presence, and really, that was the moment that Kylia knew was important. “Thank you! Sabine is pretty too and so are you!” She draws a little in her vocals but she means every word of it. The rush if it was intoxicating. Exhilarating. Kylia tried to breathe it all in. She wanted her new friend to enjoy it too as they raced together, hands touching, a part of them connecting the other together. The feeling was still there. This lightness that starts from her toes and wafts all the way up to the tip of her head and she finds herself laughing with the other, a magical sensation and sound. At the words, Kylia looks up, once her feet stop moving and she sees the stars spinning with each other in time to the beat, finding herself leaning a little too far backwards, but not stopping as she falls to her back on the ground, laughing once again. “They look far more gorgeous from this angle! Look at them sway with each other, Sabine!”

.

Wow. It was like the stars were shining just for them, light seeping down into her bones. The pull of it was everything, a string tied from her chest to the sky, pulling them up, up, up! Oh, it was a tether, but it was also freeing! They watched their friend fall to the ground and mimicked the motion, laying beside her with a sort of breathless triumph. It was a few honey-sweet moments before they finally spoke a response into existence.

“It’s so...It’sss...like when the p-poets write about the galaxy as an ocean, or a...” the words escaped her tongue, and they knew they weren’t making sense, but there was some comfort in that. Not everything had to. “In my family, there’s a story about the stars, right? Th-the most noble mando’ade, the ones that have passed on, they still watch over us.” 

The thought made her sad, but not in a way that hurt. In a way that was reassuring, a reminder that they were feeling. That she was here.

“Er, Kylia. D’ya know what time it is? I gotta f-find a couple more people before the night is over. You can come with, if ya want, but ya don’t have to. You have somewhere safe to stay the night?”

bly-5052​ // Bly

Bly was pretty sure the last time they had seen an actual Mandalorian, it had been one of the trainers that Prime had brought in. And they didn’t exactly have great memories of those days either. But this Mando seemed much younger than those who had trained the Vode would be if any had survived.

They were still wary as they approached though, they knew that many Mandalorians hadn’t approved of the Vode’s existence. But they had promised Prime that they’d give his comm code to any they came across.

Bly just hoped this one wasn’t a shoot first and ask questions later type. “Su cuy'gar.” they said quietly as they stopped next to her.

_

The figure seemed to move with a level of unease despite their obvious military training. Sabine wondered if they were meeting with someone else, someone she was in the trajectory of, but the stranger kept their course towards the Mandalorian. Curiosity alighted; Sabine didn’t know many clones apart from Rex, Gregor, and Wolffe (and the latter two, she hadn’t known for long). What this person wanted, she wasn’t sure, but they returned the Mando’a with a tentative smile.

“Su’cuy. I like the patterns on your armor, burc’ya.”

Politics around the clones’ involvement with Mandalore were...above her pay grade, to say the least. The Clone Wars had ended when they were in their infancy, and the soldiers been phased out of the Empire soon after its formation. Sabine hadn’t grown up knowing them, had little ideas about their claims to the Mando’ade. Still, this person was approaching with amity, so they returned the sentiment.

“Anything I can help you out with?”

Character Introduction

BANITA SANDHU // have you met SABINE WREN yet? SHE/THEY is a/an 29 year old DEMIWOMAN HUMAN. they’re originally from MANDALORE and now show loyalty to THE REBELLION. they are best known for being a/an WEAPONS MASTER, and i hear they’re pretty INVENTIVE yet also STUBBORN at times; I hope they survive the galactic civil war. (JO, 20, CST, ANY PRONOUNS)

THE PAST

War has always been a part of her culture, their heritage. After all, the Mandalorian people are not known for being a friendly one. Sabine was raised in war, being only a child when she was conscripted to the Imperial Academy. But when she saw the weapons they created for the Empire being used against their family, she left and was branded a traitor by the Mandalorian people.

For years after that, they worked alongside the crew of the Ghost; Hera Syndulla, Kanan Jarrus (Caleb Dume), Ezra Bridger, Garazeb Orrellios, and the droid Chopper! They worked with this crew to fight against the tyranny of the Empire, and to bring equality and freedom back to the galaxy.

THE PRESENT

Sabine now works loosely with the Rebellion, still coming to terms with the Emperor’s Rift and adapting to the changes it brings with each passing day. They struggle with the genocide of their people, and she carries the survivor’s guilt of being one of the only Mandalorians left in the galaxy. In order to face this trauma, Sabine has decided (with their newfound friend and fellow Mandalorian, Din Djarin, to visit Mandalore and search for answers-- for catharsis. She does what they can in order to help out in the galaxy, trying to mitigate the pain their past actions caused others. 

PERSONALITY

Sabine is a free-spirited young Mandalorian with a plethora of spunk and creativity, as well as an inherent refusal to follow instructions she does not believe in. They take pride in their artwork and pyrotechnics, two particular skills she’s very knowledgeable in. She sees the world as a canvas-- something that can always be taken and repaired and made beautiful. They do, however, have much internalized guilt about the role they played in the Empire as a child, especially in the genocide of her people-- something they blame themself for to this day. Sarcastic and as quick-witted as a Wookie is hairy, Sabine is loyal to a fault and will protect those closest to her with all her might. 

spectreoflasan​ // Zeb Orrellios

“Karabast, Sabine – you deserve a drink, not ten! Not unless you also want to deserve the rancor of a hangover you’re gonna have tomorrow morning. What’s this about a shit year? Slow down, I– last week was Endor for me, I– oh, kriff.” Were those tears? Panic set Zeb’s fur on end. He had seen Sabine furious, had seen her blast entire Imperial bases to shrapnel with glee, but Sabine crying? That was scary. Zeb pulled them into a hug and patted their shoulder delicately. “There, now, it’s… you’re okay, you’re fine, now, okay, just, c’mon. Alright? You can… it’s fine, have another drink, I, we’ll just, we’ll have our waters first, okay? Just take it easy, now.”

Zeb guided her away towards a chair by the window. At least here they could get a little air. Gently, they pressed a glass of water into Sabine’s hand, their eyes wide with concern. Zeb flinched at her last question, made all the more painful by the way her face reflected the same deep concern back at him. “Kriff, what are you talking about, Sabine, I– you must really be in the sauce. Nothing happened, I–” Well. Zeb might have believed that an hour ago, but not anymore. “I don’t know. Forget about Ka– …about me. You’ve got enough on your mind as it is. Talk to me.”

They threw her arms around the Lasat, and she saw the room pass by under her feet but couldn’t feel it, not really. Something cold closed around their fingers and they sat, immediately slumping forward onto the table. She looked up into her friend’s eyes and pouted, memories of family flashing by too slowly, a steady drip of molasses in the mind. A sigh pushed itself out of their lips, and they sat up, chin resting on cupped hands.

“Zeb, this year has been so...fuck. I just. ‘M tired, Zeb.” They racked through the timeline in their brain, but it felt absent and muddled. “Af-ter Kanan d-” their voice cracked, and she took a sip of the water in her hand. It wasn’t real anymore. “And now he’s back. And Ezra, too. But I keep...I keep thinking, Zeb!” The knot in her chest tightened, and those familiar tears crossed her eyes, cheeks, lips. They hated it, the crying. They hated it! “And I’m glad, Zeb, I am,” though it didn’t sound like it, “but where’s my other family? Ner aliit!” Their native tongue slipped out as she slouched forward again. What was she doing? “Ner buire, ner vod’ika.” They finally spit out the question that had been lingering on their mind for days now. “If one family can come back, why can’t the other?”

skywalkerxlegacy​ // Luke Skywalker

The  human  talking  to  Mando  was  not  someone  that  Luke  was  familiar  with.  His  head  is  cloudy,  his  thought  in  a  haze.  One  hand  holds  the  brownie  in  his  hand  and  the  other  holds  a  glass  of  some  bubbly  liquid.  He  doesn’t  think  it’s  champagne,  as  it  looked  nothing  like  the  glass  he’d  had  with  Leia  earlier.  It’s  colored  and  he  takes  a  sip.  It’s  surprisingly  smooth  down  his  throat.  “  Who  are  you?  “  he  questioned,  looking  at  the  colored  hair.  His  brows  are  raised.  He  wouldn’t  normally  be  so  blunt,  but  he’s  curious  about  who  his  friend  is  spending  time  with.  It  shouldn’t  matter,  really,  but  it  does.  “  I’m  Luke.  “  

@call-me-spectre-five​ 

Kriff, she was so glad that their friends had dragged her to this ridiculous party. It seemed so uptight and stuffy at the time, but now? Now she was surrounded by drinks and having the time of her life! It was only a few minutes after eating one of the brightly-colored desserts on display that Sabine noticed the man she had only heard rumors about, approaching them with a pointed gaze. A giggle escaped her lips at the question-- of course she knew who he was!

“‘m Sabine! Sabine Wren. Pleasure to--” hiccup “-- to meet you, Luke.” 

They caught a server droid passing by and grabbed two drinks off the tray, offering one to the man in front of her. 

“I fucking love your...” they paused, trying to form the words on her tongue (it felt so loose. that was weird, right?) “I love your outfit!”