❛  Do  You  Think  I’m  Stupid ?  ❜ (From Alton)

❝ you got some talent , kiddo ! ❞ ( iden )

@versios

“Well, I’m glad someone sees it that way,” Sabine smirked, looking at their finished painting with pride. The hull of the ship gleamed with fresh colors and patterns, none too stealthy, but perfectly her own.“Because believe it or not, the Empire wasn’t too thrilled with my creativity one upon a time. What I called a masterpiece, they called vandalism.” She upturned her lips into a quick grin full of mischief and delight. “But hey, what can I say? Art is subjective.”

❛  don’t waste the time i don’t have .  ❜

“Oh, but, general,” she countered in a dry whisper, toying with the hem of his collar, as though brushing off some loose dust. “I think you have plenty of time for me. I think you want to know exactly what I have to say, because you can’t stand the thought of someone holding information over your head. Besides, I know you have nowhere better to be than the lap of another Imperial or holonet reporter. Isn’t that right, Armitage?”

@generally-scheming

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. 

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.

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.”

@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?”

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

@cravked​ // trilla suduri

her eyes rolled after the stranger’s comment, not quite believing it –– not that there was anything necessarily inherently wrong with what they were saying, but the mere fact that trilla did not think it was remotely possible that she could remind someone of a younger brother. there was nothing about them in general that would particularly be like that, she thought. nothing endearing or whatever else people thought about siblings. she didn’t know particularly much about what traditional family dynamics looked like. 

“i wouldn’t know, i never knew my family,” trilla answered with a shrug of her shoulders. it had never mattered to her as a child because that was just the way things were in the jedi temple. there were other younglings, the masters, but nothing by blood.

gaze tilted over toward them, her gaze narrowing slightly and looking at her a bit closer. “what about me reminds you of him?” she doesn’t care, if it were the truth –– but she doesn’t entirely believe that they were being wholly honest with her, and that was what she was much more interested in.

The answer Trilla gave wasn’t entirely surprising. Terrible, yes, but not unexpected. For years, the Empire had choked the galaxy from the innermost cities of the Core Worlds all the way to the Outer Rim. The time was a ruthless one, full of orphans and hungry hands. But something about the quickness, the coolness, with which she answered the question dug into Sabine. Still, Trilla expected a response, and Sabine wasn’t one to deny her that after the personal question she, herself had just asked.

“He was...a quiet kid. Incredibly smart, but sometimes he’d go days without speaking.” Sabine allowed themself a smile, stumbling through past memories. “He grew out of it, mostly, but even when we were still learning the six tenets of the resol’nare, he would listen more than speak. When he did, though, you knew that what he had to say was important. The most I ever heard from him was...” They took a breath, remembering the cold greetings back on Krownest years ago. The planet’s icy temperature hadn’t been the only thing to bring a chill to her skin that day.

“Anyways, you seem to share that similar stillness. The looking before jumping. The taste for observation. If you don’t mind my saying so.”

They looked over at their walking partner to gauge her reaction. The two were both hesitant of each other, but Sabine wanted to show that she could be open to trust. It didn’t come freely (not by a long shot) but Trilla had been nothing but helpful so far. The Mandalorian might as well attempt the same courtesy.

“And, he had a real sense of humor, though he didn’t always realize it.” They grinned crookedly. “The little mir’sheb. So, I’m sure you can understand the resemblance there.”

warscore​ // bo-katan kryze

the figure that stood before bo was familiar, although she had not seen her in many years. she didn’t look much like her mother, that was certain, with dyed hair and brightly-colored armor, where ursa had prefered much simpler things in both regards. it felt as if bo was supposed to know them, as if they had met before, almost, with the other mandalorian’s expression. and they had met, of course, but the confident adult who stood before them had been a child then, not old enough to hold a blaster or fight. but here sabine was, fully grown and with tales of battle and rebellion that preceded her - from satine, from the rebellion, from most who had met them. 

“sabine wren.” she greeted, pulling off her helmet in one fluid motion, a faint smile accompanying the greeting. “it’s been a while.”

.

This wasn’t the Bo that Sabine knew. Something in her countenance was different. She moved with less hesitancy, spoke with a tone lighter and less burdened by war. Their armor was cleaner, paint fresher. This Bo was young. Even younger than her, maybe. 

“Bo-Katan.” They flashed a hesitant grin, unease filling their stomach. What time were they from? What did they remember about Sabine, about Mandalore? Did she know about the Purge? Who else had she found in this new time? “Yeah, it sure has. Su cuy’gar, burc’ya. Glad to see you again.” 

Their words were a little forced, emotions on edge. In another time, they were friends, and Sabine knew where Bo stood on some more important matters of politics and religion. But this older younger Bo, Sabine didn’t know. Did she? Still, they extended an arm in the customary greeting.

“When are you coming from, Bo?”

❛  i wish it wasn’t true .  ❜ –– from trilla

“Yeah, um.” They gently kicked up some of the dirt that coated the ground, tracing a pattern of anxiety into the earth. “Me too. Maybe in a better galaxy somewhere, this wouldn’t have happened, but, uh. But we’ve gotta play with the cards we’re dealt, huh?” They asked, albeit halfheartedly. Still, if she had to pick someone to go through this with, Trilla wasn’t a bad choice.

@cravked