Pilotheart​ // Zay Versio

@spectrcsix 

Star Wars: Rebels // First and last episodes

generally-scheming​ // Armitage Hux

Hux narrowed his eyes at this outrageous Mandalorian covered in bright purple from her dress to her hair. He did not dignify her insinuation with a reply.   (They couldn’t have proof ! Kastle’s reputation would be in tatters, and therefore useless to him.)   Hux’s nails dug into his palms as she continued her absurd pretense of flirtation. Midnight loomed, his agitation compounding as the seconds ticked away.

“I don’t like you,” he hissed, striding forward to confront them quietly. “A feeling which is obviously mutual, so let’s put an end to this farce. I would sooner walk directly into enemy fire than kiss you, Wren.” He flushed hearing the words out loud. “Mandalorian.”

.

This was something they were good at, something she prided herself in. Bending his composure under the weight of flattery and thinly-veiled threats. They had every reason no specific reason to harm him now (and especially not in a place so public), but it was fun to watch him squirm.

“That hurts, Hux. I happen to actually enjoy our chats.” And, that was partly true. Who else could they have this much fun toying with without it becoming something truly dangerous? “Oh, come on, Armitage. Would it kill you to at least play along? It’s not like it would be the end of the world.” 

With those words, the clock struck midnight. And all hell broke loose.

generally-scheming​ // Armitage Hux

“I prefer documentaries, actually,”  Hux replied through a faint sneer.  “The linear progression of history. Cause and effect laid out in rational sequence. No cheap gimmicks or red herrings.”  He punctuated his answer with a sip of wine to underscore his disdain for this entire conversation.   (Which was growing by the second, now that they had indicated they were too well-versed in these games of intrigue to hand him any more free intelligence.)

He scoffed openly at Wr— at Sabine’s choice of words. No one who had ever met Brendol Hux would call him dignified, not even his friends. Nor could she begin to imagine what it had been like to grow up in Brendol’s shadow, and Armitage had no intention of illuminating her.  “Oh, bereft, yet I might just be able to hold back my tears for love of the Empire.” 

He narrowed his eyes. They were toying with him, dragging out the exchange to watch him squirm. Her opening gambit had been a threat; that meant she would give him nothing unless he offered something more valuable than she believed her   (yet to be substantiated)   blackmail to be. He had to determine their price — continuing to play would only benefit them, not Hux. So he cut straight to the point.  “But you’re right. You are obviously not here to ask after my father’s good health, so what do you want?”

_

The admission almost brought a huff of laughter to pass their lips. Of course he would. Never one to have a little fun now and again. Sabine could tell by now that he was growing impatient (irritable? resentful? at any rate, he was even more tightly-wound than she could have hoped for). His attempt to cut past the foreplay of it all was almost impressive-- if it wasn’t solely for his own gain. He wouldn’t attempt to harm the Mandalorian yet, so long as they proved to be useful. And she had a feeling that the clock was ticking.

“You’d certainly be right on that front, general.” She examined the drink before cautioning another sip, attempting to hint at the contempt they both shared for the man. Ah, but he seemed unamused and unwilling to bait the hook. Perhaps that conversation would have to wait for another, more opportune time...

“Besides the sheer pleasure of drinking with you, I did have a question. Armitage, indulge me, would you? Does anyone else know about your sleeping arrangements with the holonet reporter Alton Kastle?”

“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

Everyone  was  struggling  with  Ezra’s  untimely  death.  So  many  unanswered  questions,  so  much  pain.  He  knew  that  Zeb  felt  it,  which  is  another  reason  why  Kallus  had  been  keeping  his  distance  from  Lira  San  as  of  late.  He  wanted  to  allow  his  friend  to  grieve  in  the  way  he  saw  fit.    That’s  what  he  was  telling  himself  at  least.  Watching  Zeb  and  Hera  grieve  Ezra  once  was  excruciating.  He  didn’t  think  he  could  do  it  again,  not  when  he  was  still  reeling  from  getting  the  kid  (  man  really  )  back  and  losing  him  again.  Allowing  himself  to  work  again,  for  the  New  Republic,  had  given  him  purpose.  When  he  had  heard  from  Zeb  that  Sabine  hadn’t  been  in  contact  for  a  while,  he  knew  that  he  had  to  check  in  on  her.

Tracking  a  Mandalorian  was  no  easy  task,  even  for  ex-ISB.  Whispers  of  the  warrior  in  the  painted  armor  had  finally  lead  him  someplace.  He  had  landed  his  ship  a  few  clicks  north  and  had  been  on  a  speeder.  When  he  saw  the  lone  speeder  that  he  hoped  belong  to  them,  he  slowed  down  before  getting  off  of  the  bike.  He  left  it  idling,  not  sure  if  Sabine  even  wanted  to  see  him.  He  wouldn’t  be  particularly  surprised  if  they  preferred  their  alone  time  right  now.  But  he  had  to  try,  at  the  very  least.  

He  approached  slowly,  a  hand  on  his  blaster,  just  in  case  it  was  not  their  friend  that  he  found,  but  a  potential  foe  instead.  One  could  never  be  too  careful,  especially  when  he  had  been  attempting  to  track  Grand  Admiral  Thrawn.  “  Sabine  ??  “  he  called,  finally  passing  the  clearing  and  seeing  them.  “  It’s  Kallus.  Garazeb  was….  Well,  we  were  worried.  “  he  admitted,  “  I  told  him  I’d  come  and  check  up  on  you.  “  

Sabine looked up at the sound of a speeder bike in the distance, all mechanical hum and rattle. They froze, hoping it was just another passerby and not anyone she knew. Working quickly, they stowed tools in exchange for a blaster, aiming it at the thicket before them. 

Something that sounded like her name carried across the wind, and they planted their feet sternly, breathing deepening in preparation for battle.

Who had the will to track her down all the way to this remote planet on the edges of the Outer Rim? What did they want with her? The stranger’s words were muffled and distorted from crossing through wind and distance, though she could see the shape of their body winding towards her in the foliage. Her heart jumped to their throat. After all this time fighting, after the wars she was raised in, still they felt a twinge of anxiety at the prospect of confrontation. Stalks of foreign plants rustled with movement, and a figure emerged into the clearing with a hand on their gun. Sabine stood, still as a stone.

Kallus? 

Was it really him, that old Imperial-turned-Rebel, after all? Last she had heard, he was on Lira San, helping to rebuild the Lasat species on their homeworld, (and spending a lot of time with Zeb, too). Could it be him, this man whose story mirrored their own in too many ways? Yet, here he stood in front of her, eyes wide as their own. 

“Dank farrik,” they finally murmured. They lowered their blaster, but the tension did not leave the muscles in her arm (or in the air between the two figures).

“Kallus. If I’m being honest, you are the last person I expected to see here. Wh-” they holstered their gun. “What are you doing here?”

@versios​ // Iden Versio

although most of her time on new republic business was spent with the comfort of inferno squad and those that she knew best, iden still kept in communication with several other members of the rebellion. she was good at what she did, after all, and the rebellion’s strength came from its ability to work together. she happened to be rather fond of sabine –– she thought that the young woman was fiercely capable of quite a bit, and had a rather creative brain when it came to looking for solutions. if she were going to be truly self-aware, then she would have realized part of the reason that she liked sabine so much was the fact that she reminded iden of herself when she had been younger. reckless, but only in the most brilliant way.

“good to see you too, wren,” she remarked with a wry smile in response to the holo-recording. she grabbed her transmitter to get the other on the line, waiting for her to pick up before she spoke again. “it’s good to hear from you again, wren. what part of the galaxy are you in these days?”

The steady hum of the transceiver broke into a crackle, and Sabine’s eyes fluttered open sleepily. They hadn’t meant to doze off in the cockpit (that was risky business), but it had kind of just happened. Luckily, her little R-series droid had kept the flight path relatively consistent, and she gave the droid a pat on its dome before adjusting the frequency to match that of the incoming transmission. Finally, out came the familiar voice of their friend. So it seemed she had received their message.

“Commander, I was starting to think you’d forgotten about me,” they joked in between yawns. How long had it been since she had eaten something? Or had a proper sleep cycle, for that matter? Ah, that was a problem for another rotation. She turned their attention back to coming up with an answer to the question they had been asked.

“You know me, I love nothing more than enjoying all of the luxuries the Outer Rim has to offer. I mean, it just  doesn’t really get any better than the endless sandy wastes of Savareen or Tattooine, does it?” They pushed a piece of hair behind her ear, then glanced over their shoulder into the next room. It wasn’t like her to be distracted, but it seemed to be more and more commonplace over the last few days. 

“Sorry, uh, just looking for the cat. Blue seems to always be getting into trouble these days.” Where could he be hiding this time? “But, er, how have things been on your end, Commander? Anything I can help with? I...I heard about Hosk.” 

A heavy silence took its place on Sabine’s tongue then, until, with a deep sigh, they continued.

“If I’m being honest, commander, it’s not as easy as I imagined, this whole recovering-from-the-Empire thing.”

l  closed starter  l  @versios

It had been a few weeks since Sabine talked with the commander, and they were starting to grow anxious. It had taken longer than usual to hear news lately (the ship’s subspace transceiver had been fidgety, especially in the Outer Rim), but she had finally found out about the tragedy at Hosk Station. They had frequented it during their travels and couldn’t imagine the toll it took, the millions of lives lost.They felt the need to help in whatever way the Rebellion would have her, and Commander Versio was one of the leaders she felt most connected with. Of course, they were not very communicative with anyone anymore, but this woman seemed to share similar experiences with the Empire and Rebellion as themself. It seemed that she had an outlook very similar to her own, and Sabine really did appreciate that. 

It was a quick message they sent, just a little holo-recording taken while in mid-flight. A short update about the course of events over the last few rotations, as well as a request near the end of the transmission.

“...Commander, if there is any way to aid the Rebellion at this time, I will be prepared to answer at your call.”

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.

beskarbuir​ // din djarin

──   THE  CANTEEN  IS  EASILY  CAUGHT,  its coolness permeating past leather.   it’ll be another while before they drink from it,  at least until they can find another retreat from eyes,  though they raise it up with a slight shake to signal thanks.   they swallow down the lingering iron.

as anxiety passes through her,  nicks at her speech,  din lifts themself from against the ship’s side and approaches her with a languid stride.   there’s not much else to indicate that there shouldn’t be so much worry around questioning them   ─   though when they finally reach them,  a hand grips their upper arm as reassurance before falling back to their side.   the touch is as brief as a breath.   in truth,  they’re surprised she had waited this long to ask.   her patience is wholly appreciated,  of course,  but they do not open themself from within.   they could hide themself infinitely.   a being encased in shell upon shell,  they must be pried with anything but a knife.   ❝  yeah.   ❞   their tone is open,  paired with a nod.   wariness lies there,  too.  ❝  go ahead.  ❞  

in turn,  nerves do not bind them but an old weight pulls at their spine,  pooling at their feet and the ends of their fingers.   they’re not sure what to expect,  what vital differentiations will contrast the both of them.   one of their tenets already invites perplexed looks   ─   sometimes it leads others to cruelty,  like it was a challenge to break it for them.    ❝  i’d like to know more about yours,  too  ─    ❞   really,  they already know the response before it leaves them.   but if their companion sought permission for their history,  they will give the same courtesy.  ❝  ─   if you’re willing.  ❞

The trepidation, though never malignant, was always present. It was a dance Sabine had practiced with every sibling by creed, but none more so than this one. There was no resentment or exhaustion or shame in it-- this was just the cost of their relationship. And Sabine was more than content to measure their words, to weigh their steps, to share meals in separate rooms, to avoid painful questions-- if it meant spending time with her friend. For them, it was worth it. 

Their touch was as gentle as it was brief, and it returned her to the present. Sabine greeted his gentility with a waning smile from unmasked lips. Their answer was relief, another brick to the altar of trust built by them both. Of course, he knew her reply. Though nothing in the steel countenance conceded it, the fact made itself known. She would share with him whatever was asked. (They appreciated the formality nonetheless.)

“Yeah. Um. I think that would be...Yeah, I would like that.”

There was no telling where to start. Certain things were known, yes, but others? How were they to tread the trauma they’d experienced in the last few years alone? And how much of it did they really share? Amid the torrent of questions, a quiet reassurance chimed from the back of their mind: let’s start here. 

“Did you-- er, do you have a family?”

@naboospage​ // Sache

There was a lot of things Saché was worried about but just this once, it wasn’t the government. She served enough governments for a lifetime, and spending the war in hiding had been… a hard earned break. It was easy for her to recognise the look on Sabine’s face, who was apparently searching for signs of fatigue that Saché, for once, did not feel. “I always do,” she answered. “When Panaka gave me his job, I rearranged the furniture in his old office so that I could see the window while working.” The best view of Theed wasn’t there, though. But in the Queen’s chambers. “How long are you staying? Yané’s working, but she’ll be back in time for dinner.”

As they walked, the Mandalorian found themself beaming. It was so good to be back among the company of an old friend, and in such a picturesque place no less. The garden they treaded was nothing short of breathtaking. As they talked, small avian creatures fluttered above and around, and flora arrayed by hue bowed gently in the wind. It was a peaceful place, and exactly what someone as kindhearted as Sache deserved.

“I’m glad for that, my friend. A landscape as beautiful as this deserves to be admired.” And Force knows Sache deserved someone to admire it with.

The two passed a group of schoolchildren weaving each other’s hair into intricate braids and laughing at a tooka cat darting between carven statues. One of the children ran up to them and complimented the colors on her armor, and suddenly it struck her. This is what the Rebellion had fought for. She had bled and cried and lost family members so these kids (and so many others across the galaxy) could have the life she never did. They thanked the child and handed them a flower from a nearby tree, smile cracking a little at the tide of emotion.

“I’d love to stay a few days, if you can spare a room. How are things with you and Yane?” They asked, careful to tread the waters on this one. Relationships weren’t exactly her forte, but she cared about these two, cared about their happiness. After all, they had been nothing but gracious to Sabine for years now.