@naboospage​ // Sache

cravked​ // trilla suduri

there was a natural spark of curiosity that arose as a result of their statement. asking would have been inviting in more conversation, given the other room to ask perhaps more personal questions about herself, which was truthfully what trilla was trying to avoid. there was no reason for her to have anything against them, even if relatively minor judgments naturally slipped in here and there. but at least thus far, they have proved capable of deterring anything unwanted.

“what kind of information are you looking for? i might be able to point you in the right direction.” that was very unlikely. trilla hadn’t been on the planet long and did not intend to stay on it for much longer, only knew enough to keep herself blending in and without drawing undue attention. still, the curiosity was there, and there was no reason for sabine to know otherwise. lying was something that there were too good at.

the offer was unexpected, although trilla had already given them a ride to an extent. a few minutes to town wasn’t exactly equivocal to somewhere off world, especially in terms of time spent together. “i have a ship of my own,” she answered with a simple shrug of her left shoulder. “that’s not really an offer you should go around making.” the words are harsh by themself, a beat passing before they added, “given your apparent lack of direction.”

.

And here was the fork in the road, the other shoe dropped. Sabine bit the inside of their cheek, the question of whether or not to reveal true alliances a weight on her tongue. She wondered about the biases Trilla held about her-- of course, the armor and its heritage carried assumptions (and they weren’t always positive; more than one scar could attest to that). Sabine resolved that the truth may as well will out this one. If there was going to be a fight, the Mandalorian trusted their instinct. Knew her skills.

“I’ve been tracking the remains of old Imperial intelligence units-- hard to pin them down, but worth a great reward to the New Republic.” Okay, so it wasn’t the full truth. It wasn’t for bounty that she worked, but for something else. For redemption. No, it was loyalty to a shared vision created by the sacrifices they and so many others had made. For the Spectres. For Mandalore. But the admittance answered enough in its words alone.

Then, at the half-insult--

“Hey, you just caught me on an off day. I knew where I was going, I just got a shit bike rental. Happens to the best of us.” Again, the Mando suspected that the person sitting across from her didn’t seem like the type to ask for assistance, but hey, they’d been wrong before. And it never hurt to return politeness to strangers, especially if there was any chance she’d run into them in the galaxy again. “If that ever changes-- if you decide you want or need help-- I’d be grateful to fulfill the debt.”

Sabine awaited their reaction in its totality, watched the direction hands travelled and eyes wandered. The next move was Trilla’s to make. Sabine felt no need to reach for the blasters or hidden vibroblades yet, but that could easily change. 

@cravked​ // Trilla Suduri

given that trilla had not anticipated that the other was being truthful to begin with, she was moderately surprised when they launched into a description about a brother that apparently was real, given that she could not sense any kind of dishonesty in what they were saying. lips pursed together in a thin line, but she did actually listen to the other despite the air of indifference that she still managed to carry. it was better to pay attention, just in case there was anything useful there. it was something she could relate to.

“perhaps you should consider implementing a little more of your brother’s behavior, and you wouldn’t end up stranded with a piece of junk.” her tone was still cool, though it was no longer sharp around the edges. her face gave away nothing about the thoughts inside of her mind. she didn’t know anything about the mandalorian culture beyond the armor and history of violence despite the neutral stance during the clone wars, certainly didn’t understand the mando’a language, but for the most part, she could put together a general idea of what sabine was saying based on the context clues of their sentences. 

it didn’t take much longer for the pair to reach her own vehicle. technically, it was not hers, a little force persuasion with its proper owner allowing her to utilize it while she was on the surface of this planet. trilla planned on returning it, so she saw no harm in her actions. “well, i don’t have a sense of humor.” she replied with tight lips, swinging a leg over the speeder. she pulled her cloak around her, making sure her weapon couldn’t be grabbed easily. “just no apparent desire to leave you out here to die, lucky for you. hop on.”

“You’re too kind to me. Really,” they said with an air of sarcasm, but not without an inkling of truth. It was nice of Trilla to offer help of her own accord, unprompted. Tension still hung in the air between them, but it was lessening with each passing second. Someone that wanted to harm the Mandalorian clearly wouldn’t have gone out of their way to offer this much help-- it would be much simpler to start a fight, or to leave her for dead. 

Swinging a leg over the back of the speeder bike, Sabine wondered if they should hold on to the woman as they traversed the forested plains of a near-empty planet. Better not, they decided. Things were already weird, and there was no need to heighten that state of unease.

The vegetation passed by in a blur and Sabine’s heart dropped to her stomach-- it was a welcome feeling, the sensation of winding through thicket and brush. This acquaintance, Trilla, was a good driver, too. With ease she wound through the plant life that towered above them, navigating without cause for alarm. Sabine allowed themself to wonder-- did she know the area well? Was she just a talented pilot? Or was her skill aided by the Force? Whatever it was, she made a long walk into a quick ride, and a seamless one at that.

“You drive well, Trilla. You ever enter any races?” Not the most eloquent of compliments, but hey, it was a conversation topic. The cantina stood before them as they disembarked. The outside walls were covered with layers of dust and weathering, but hey. Any place with food and drink was a good place. Well, almost any place. “You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to.” They held a hand before Trilla, ushering her in. “After you.”

The sight of the planet ran cold in her blood. For a moment, as the ship dropped from hyperspace, all they could see was Mandalore. The ash, the scars of a scorched planet. Streets overrun with fire, buildings reduced to ash. It was all too familiar. Guilt surged in their blood like it had done then, her breath caught in panic and fear. Without thinking, Sabine clutched onto Zeb, their fur thick underneath her touch. 

“It’s so much worse than I thought.”

If the Mandalorian had held any doubt that Lothal needed their help, it was gone now. There was a half-glance shared, and a moment of understanding passed between the two. There was work to be done, and no time to hesitate.

“Where do we even begin?”

@spectreoflasan​ 

cptfulcrum​ // alexsandr kallus

Kallus  has  long  since  known  that  the  Ghost  crew  had  forgiven  him  for  the  atrocities  he’s  committed.  Even  as  he  struggled  to  understand  how  or  why,  he  would  be  grateful  to  his  final  days  for  friends  such  as  them.  Sabine  would  understand  the  significance  of  this  in  a  way  that  no  one  else  tasked  would.  They  would  understand  the  research  that  had  gone  into  this,  the  inner  turmoil  while  he  had  struggled  with  the  Imperial  idea  of  his  body.  Years  later  and  it  haunted  him,  the  guidelines  beat  into  their  soldiers.  “  Thank  you.  “  he  said  simply,  nodding  his  head  as  he  put  his  personal  code  into  the  datapad.  Then  he  handed  it  off  to  them,  the  picture  simple  and  not  able  to  be  understood  to  someone  that  didn’t  know  him.  The  Fulcrum  Symbol  featured,  with  fauna  native  to  Lira  San  in  another  image.  Finally,  a  third  image  of  some  flowers  native  to  Lasan.  He’s  no  artist,  but  has  a  vision.  He  knows  Sabine  is  the  one  to  execute  that  for  him.  “  This  is  quite  personal  to  me.  I  want  a  tattoo.  “  it’s  to  the  point,  lacks  the  emotion  he  has  surrounding  the  whole  idea,  and  his  insecurities  about  how  Zeb  would  feel  about  the  whole  thing.  “  If  it’s  amenable  for  you,  I’d  prefer  you  to  help  me  with  this.  “  

The image drew a sharp inhale from the Mandalorian. The concept was striking, a symbol equal parts sharp and soft, a contrast of edges and curves. It was as though the picture itself was blooming before her eyes; she could already see the colors springing to life, filling the spaces between lines. They thought of the equipment that sat just inside her ship and the weeks since it had been used. It was a practice she was well-versed in-- but this time was different. It was so much more than ink and skin.

“Kallus, I...” But what words could she speak to answer a request so heavy? Sabine understood, of course they understood, what this meant to him. They could imagine the struggle he’d faced just to ask so much of her, the nights he must have wrestled with the regulations the Empire had imposed on him since boyhood. The tattoos she had were-- like so many other things-- an act of rebellion against them. And now it was his turn. Wordlessly, she nodded, holding his tired gaze with their own. Their grip on his hand tightened. 

“When do you want to do this? I can have a few digital drafts made up withing a few hours, but I won’t rush you. Take it on your own time, and I’ll follow you.”

bly-5052​ // Bly

Bly flushed a little in pride, glancing down at their armor “Ah, thank you. I’ve had the designs since I left Kamino.” They told her, patting a hand over the design that matched the tattoos on their cheeks.

“Honestly? Not really. I just haven’t seen a Mandalorian outside the ones Prime had train us. Word was that no Mando’ade considered us one of them so I’ve kept my distance.” They admitted with a shrug, holding out their hand. “Commander Bly,” they introduced themselves before frowning and chuckling “I don’t know if I still hold my rank, but I don’t have a last name so I’ve just kept it.”

_

Their response to the compliment was endearing, and immediately Sabine smiled, eyes still tracing over their use of color and line on the worn armor. It was a familiar hue, one native to their forgotten family back on Krownest...

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Bly. I’m Sabine.”

As she shook their hand, the Mandalorian thought on Bly’s words about belonging and identity. Though they hadn’t personally known any clones who’d held the title Mandalorian, she saw no reason why they couldn’t claim the heritage. After all, the children of Mandalore weren’t race, but creed.

“Tell you what, Bly. I could actually use some help fixing my ship, if you’ve got the time. I can’t offer you much in the way of credits, but I can cover a meal at the local cantina. It’s not the best in the parsec, but it’s hot. Plus, I’d enjoy the company, if you’re up for it.”

generalspectre​ // hera syndulla

“  You  know,  it’s  starting  to  get  lonely  on  this  ship.  “  Hera  teases  as  they  stand,  arms  already  wrapping  around  the  colorful  armor  of  their  child.  While  neither  Hera  nor  Jacen  had  much  interest  in  him  becoming  a  jedi,  Luke  would  come  sometimes  and  work  on  control  with  her  son.  Small  things  to  help  him  get  by  in  the  galaxy.  This  was  one  of  those  times.  It  was  hard  to  trust  anyone  but  their  family  with  him,  but  they  knew  that  Jacen  would  be  in  good  hands.  “  But  I’m  proud  of  you.  What  you’re  doing  is  important.  “  

@call-me-spectre-five​​

.

Their praise and embrace brought a smile to Sabine’s lips. The two shared a language outside of the spoken word. When you’ve been to hell and back with your family at your side, there are some things better expressed in the pauses between words, the silence before speech.

“Thank you, Hera. You know I’m always happy to see you.” They dropped their bags in the old cargo room, happy to see her artwork still adorning the walls of the Ghost. “If you ever want to get the little womp rat out of your lekku for a weekend, give me a call.” 

Looking closer, they noticed colorful scribbles on the wall beside her own. Huh. The kiddo wasn’t too old but his control of line, his use of color...it was already well-developed. The thought of her vod’ika taking after them at all made Sabine swell with pride.

“Jacen’s works, I assume?”

// sabine’s look for the life day event //

not featured: bold purple eyeliner, white painted nails

❛ can i come with you ? ❜ from din

Sabine enjoys this friend’s company as much she enjoys spending time with any of the Spectres (as much as she had enjoyed spending time with Tristan and Ezra). To hear him ask for her companionship with such gentility...The question brought a grin to their unmasked face.

“Of course. The more the merrier.”

tarre says ... ❛  i keep on hoping nothing has changed .  ❜ 

“Yeah, me too.” She sat in the expanse of sand next to them, staring into the dying embers of the campfire. A solemn weight pressed itself against the two Mandalorians. It was inevitable, she knew, but having another set of shoulders to carry the load was reassuring. “I never knew ghosts could weigh so heavily on a heart.”

@finitefm

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.