location: mandalore
characters: tarre vizsla, sabine wren, din djarin
finitefm // tarre vizsla
cracks of golden beskar GLEAMED under the harsh light as they watched the contrasting pair of mandalorians make their way through the ruins of the square. one, purely unadorned silver – the other, the most eyecatching burst of color that they had ever before seen. that alone would have been enough to draw their attention without the force screaming like a JAI’GALAAR in their ears, a resounding call of fate pulling them forwards.
the silhouette that had graced a thousand mandalorian memorials stepped out of the rubble, a hand raised in calm greeting. they had no darksaber to raise, but a blade lay sheathed on their hip. the shriekhawk symbol rested like a crown on the front of their helmet, their dark cape swaying behind them. they looked as if they had stepped out of a LEGEND to take physical form, and maybe they had : tarre vizsla, far from their time, mand’alor that was and shall be.
they stood where once had been a CITY , now left for the sand to reclaim as so many pieces of mandalorian history had been, preserved only in holos. it was undomed, no longer suitable for life, but it had been a home to them. they had laid their early plans here, had raised their call for vengeance – the site of the old vizsla compound, the old vizsla MASSACRE. they had eventually left it abandoned during their lifetime, privately named the ground unholy. battles had raged there. history was made there. the first true test of their darksaber. it was a place of memory, and it burned.
but the unflinching metal of their helmet revealed nothing of the ache beneath their boots as they came to a stop in front of the pair. ❛ su cuy’gar, ❜ they greeted, head tilted with curiosity. ❛ i had thought this place FORGOTTEN. ❜ they knew nothing of any remembrance by house vizsla before the purge. they had barely begun to grasp the spread of their name. they were simply glad to find that they were not ALONE.
.
The pain was overwhelming. Even without an inclination to the Force, the grief filled their bones, pulled the breath from her lungs. The last few days had been...harsh, to say the least. Never had Sabine been more grateful for the friend at their side, for a companion bound by shared creed and skill. A few nights they had traveled, rising by the light of the sun and eating in what privacy and seclusion could be found among the ruins. Guilt filled her every step, shame flooded their senses as she weighed the cost of their actions in the days of the Empire. But that’s what this was about, right? Making peace with the past?
The passage held its own form of healing, like the sting of bacta spray on an open suture. Finally, they were approaching familiar territory, the ruins of their childhood quite literally brought to her feet. Yet, by the light of the suspended star above, a figure stood, dark armor casting shadows across the wasteland. As they drew nearer, the figure rendered itself familiar, a sculpture given life. One memory flashed vivid, a pilgrimage to visit a famed statue with family in tow. The countless times they’d held this visage in sight-- osi’kyr, was this real?
How was this possible? Sure, Sabine didn’t understand much about the Force, but this? This seemed too haamyc to be true. But, who else had this armor? The stature? Shit, how was she supposed to respond? If they were right, then this was none other than--
“Tarre Vizsla? By the Ka’ra...”
Paralyzed with shock, they fell on one knee, head bowed in respect. Hundreds of times she had seen their image, had read their teachings, but this was something else entirely. And, if they were wrong, at least she had her vod to cover her six.
sacreficied // Kanan Jarrus
balancing his life as a jedi and what he owed, what he wanted to owe, to ghost crew was not an easy task. there had been years where no attempt had been made –– something that had shifted when they had stumbled across ezra, that realization of what, exactly, he was missing in his life. kanan wanted better for himself now. he wanted better for all of them. he wanted to be a better man that he had been in the past.
“what isn’t?” kanan replied back with a slight chuckle, shoulders lifting in a slight shrug to reduce the weight of his own words. corners of his mouth lifted in a slight smile. “i’m grateful for the chance that we all have with this,” he begun, being mindful to choose his own words carefully. “still, i wonder what we’re all looking at with the bigger picture.”
If they hadn’t known better, Sabine would almost say she was concerned for Kanan. Something was obviously eating at him-- but it had always been harder to have these kind of talks with him than with Hera. Still, she nodded at his admission of thankfulness-- with the kind of life they lead, it was no small miracle they had even a handful of people left to care about.
“Bigger picture? What do you mean by that?” They asked, hoping that there was no hint of judgement evident in her voice. Was this about the Jedi, about Ezra? Or Hera and Jacen? In a galaxy that seemed to always require so much sacrifice, some days it took all of her energy just to survive. To see their family again. What could be bigger than that?
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
beskarbuir // din djarin
── THE REMARK, A BREACH THROUGH A VEILED HUSH, was welcome yet unexpected. he appreciates their comment, how it didn’t come from a mouth of want. there had been enough words from those seeking to shuck the beskar off his body, making a flayed revenant out of him. he thinks to ask about their armor in turn: who painted it, who forged it, was it inherited; things of the like. they both know he will voice none of it, but he still casts them a lilted glance in content.
by the time they arrive, the afternoon has deepened, twin shadows trail their approach toward something a little more than a shed, an initial shop that surely housed a downward descent ( a staple of tatooine’s architecture ). rounding the corner, they near the garage opening, with it’s gaping maw of oddities spilling forth. towards the back seats a mechanic immersed in soldering, though they instantly sensed the incoming presence.
❝ ah — now this is a surprise ! ❞ the worker pushes from their current project and rises to their feet, bouncing with a certain energy. nerves or just genuine shock at their entry, din couldn’t tell. a reflection of the alloy flickers across their eyes and a hand rises to shield from the brilliance, wincing through a cordial smile all the while. ❝ what can i do for you, mandalorians ? and make it quick ! the shop closes soon. ❞ he questions that particular remark — there were a couple hours until dusk swallowed the land, and the current season even staved the night’s reach.
din’s reply is curt, as unrelenting as their steady walk into the workshop, ❝ we’re not here for business. ❞
the mechanic’s features falter, darting through curiosity, contempt, concern, then back to curiosity with open palms. ❝ oh ? then why would you two be here ? i imagine you’d be quite busy with the — ❞ a north-bound wave of the hand, back towards the village. ❝ — favors the locals asked of you. ❞
his next approach is considered; either direct questioning or intimidating with an oppressive silence will set off this middleman ( he assumes ) based on their snappy movements alone. though a moment is taken to rethink this. perhaps the fellow mandalorian would like to initiate the conversation, or instigate it. an interest in witnessing her approach also goads him. with his torso turning to his companion, he looks at her — gestures made in silence to say, ‘ will you do the honors ? ’
Sabine studies their counterpart’s features with a vested interest. Just because she cannot see their face does not mean the two don’t share another language, one comprised of the movement between breaths. It’s instinctual, a result of their shared heritage. His foot shifts the slightest degree backwards, and in turn she rocks forward, hand on blaster.
“So, here’s how this goes down. We all keep calm, and you tell us what we want to know--” Two pairs of veiled eyes met, and the Mandalorians tense, readying themselves for confrontation.
“--or--” they propose, now openly brandishing the firearm (one of a twin pair, just as their wielder).
“--you tell us what we want to know and you get a blaster bolt to the heart. Now, I may have a good temper, but I can’t vouch for my partner here.” A smile creeps into her voice, and they hope the humor is well-received.
A flurry of steps, a dance of fingers on triggers and sand spitting from an attempted runaway. The pulse of energy, bright blue, trailing the space from metal tip to calloused leather, and the drop of a body. (Not dead. Only stunned.) With haste, they drag the body into the shadow of the workshop, then duck down a set of hidden stairs. The two work in an awkward sync, mirroring movements and hesitating with unease. Still, it works. With an ally at each other’s side (and a little bit of good fortune), the bounty was as good as theirs.
“Kandosii, vod. Let’s go.”
swishycapes // Lando Calrissian
although upon previous encounters, it had been lando’s instinct to continue to treat her like the young teen that he had initially met them as, he was aware on some level now that sabine was an adult. it was enough to prevent him from dissuading her from engaging in some of the more adult-like activities of the evening. if anything, it just happened to make it more amusing.
“well, about time you recognize me as your friend,” he remarked with a chuckle, throwing his arm around her shoulders with a squeeze. “you could pass on that attitude to some of your friends, you know,” he grinned.
“i can think of a few. the one that will be the most fun will require at least a few more companions and a deck of cards. think you could gather up some people?”
Oya, that reply was so stupid! Obviously, he was her friend! Who else would share this many drinks with the Mandalorian? Who else would know the best drinking games? Lando was no favorite among any of the Ghost Crew, but they did know how to have fun! Some other people had already tried to get her to stop consuming so much alcohol, but that was just because they didn’t want Sabine to enjoy the night. Probably thought they were still a little kid. Hmph. At least he knew better! So, at their instructions, she grabbed another dessert and made for the promenade across from the ever-shifting crowd.
“Oh, no problem! Be right back!” They shouted, already halfway across the gallery, waving back with a clueless guffaw.
galaxywon // Hera Syndulla
“ You’re reckless now. “ Hera reminded them with an affectionate shove of their arms against her own. It was something they all shared. The twi’lek had told herself that it had been necessary. Most of the time she still thought it was. But there were some times, like looking at something brilliant that their son had done, that made her wonder if she would do it again today, leave him in this wide galaxy all on his own. They followed her over to the table, sitting opposite. They sighed. It was easy to get lost in all the things she had done wrong as a parent. Being a mom was hard. Raising a force sensitive child with an ability that they did not have was even harder.
Kanan made it easier, but that didn’t mean it didn’t scare them still. “ You’re right, as always. “ They smiled, reaching to grab Sabine’s hands. “ It’s a mother’s jobs to worry. “ They had worried about the Ghost Crew constantly. Even as they were being thrown into life threatening events in real time. “ My father respected the jedi, worked with them during The Clone Wars. But no one could warn me about how scary it is. “
At the mention of Chopper, their lips quirked up, sitting straighter in the chair. “ I’m running some diagnostics. When the Ghost was on Sernpidal he got banged up. Nothing that he can’t handle though. “ She grinned. “ Don’t let Chopper hear that though. Chaos will come in ten fold. Even as they chatted, it seemed like more was going on than they were saying. It worried her. Sabine could always come to them. They hoped that they knew that everything would be dropped in a second for any member of the crew.
“ What’s on your mind, Sabine ? “
Of course, the compliments brought a smile to her face. They knew they were reckless, and they knew they were quick enough to catch a womp rat in its tracks. Still, to hear it from someone she held so much respect for...
“Vor’e, buir. And, hey. If you worry, it’s because you’re a good parent, Hera. Because you know that this galaxy is so big and dangerous, and you just want to keep him safe from that.”
That’s what she had wanted for their little brother, too. But the choices they’d made had hurt. They’d caused scars and bloodshed, and there was no erasing that. And the question, it pulled at their chest even more, a weight that tore through her lungs and into the pit of their stomach.
Sabine valued every relationship with the Spectres, but with Hera...She had always trusted them with feelings and thoughts that the others wren’t sure how to hold. Somehow, her parent always knew how to hear their child, knew how to make her feel held. And they were grateful for that, truly. It was with that trust that Sabine sighed and leaned forward, head resting on crossed arms.
“You know I don’t want to bring the mood down, ‘specially now that we’re all together again, but...I keep thinking about my family. Well, my other family, on Mandalore.”
There it was, the guilt. The gnawing fear. Sabine knew that Hera understood about having another family (one bound by blood and not bond), but it always felt a little weird to bring them up to her. Still, they had to remind themself to trust the parent that sat before her.
“I don’t know, I keep finding other Mandalorians out there and it’s just. I can’t help but wonder if they’re out there, too. And if they are, why they haven’t tried to...”
But she knew why. Sabine knew why they wouldn’t try. And she didn’t even blame them.
“When I do, y’know, I just feel this pressing guilt, like a weight on my shoulders. Like it’s my f-”
The breath caught in their throat as eyes pricked up with moisture, too warm. Too uncomfortable.
“Anyways. I’m sorry, Hera. I’m not trying to ruin our time together. I just really missed you. I missed this.”
l closed starter l @naboospage
Part of the healing was re-acquainting themself with the people they used to know. Sabine knew that she couldn’t spend forever on the outskirts of the galaxy, hunting down dead-ended information and criminal bounties alike. Grief had pushed her to seek space, but they knew now that the time for being alone was over. The last few weeks, she’d been gradually talking to more people from their past (Iden, Ahsoka, Kallus). Though some of the conversations were painful, she knew that being vulnerable is what her family would want her to do. Ezra and Tristan would want this for her.
“Sache, my friend! This is Sabine.”
They spoke with more enthusiasm then they actually felt, hoping their facade wouldn’t be read through the blur of the holo-message. The two had been good friends, once upon a time, when the Rebellion had been in its most desperate need for agents of all kinds (and Sache had proved more capable than most).
“It’s been a while, but I just wanted to check in and see how you were doing. I was hoping we could catch up sometime soon. When you have time, of course.”
They fiddled with the hem of their flight suit a moment before wrapping the message up with a pointed smile and a wink.
“Hope to hear from you soon, Sache. Safe travels.”
@cravked // trilla suduri
a life of solitude was something that trilla had gotten used to with the last two years, alone on the outer rim, staying as far away from society and individuals as she could. there had still been some necessary trips to markets for supplies that she needed; it had been a sharp learning curve to life as an imperial where all of her basic needs were met, just as they had been in the jedi order. when she hadn’t isolated herself, it had not been a problem. her skillset left her particularly capable of making money when she needed it, capable of mercenarial jobs that… the average person just could not accomplish on their own. she’d been among the best as a padawan, and learned so much more when training as an inquisitor. her arrogance had never failed her: she was capable of anything she set her mind to.
still, after all of that time, isolation had remained to be somewhat easier. maybe it was because of how sour things had gone with cal, or the fact that the others that she had run into had left her feeling less than about herself. quiet spaces away from people was what she needed, but she was still trying to follow the call of the force, to allow herself to be more than the darkness that had eaten her up for so long. much of it had faded. trilla found herself bathed in light more than dark these days, paranoia being the main thing to set her back. she ached for isolation, but the force continued to guide her in another direction, to tell her no. stumbling upon this stranger was just one of many instances that seemed to serve as proof for the idea.
trilla’s gaze fell upon them in the distance, debating with herself for a few minutes before she approached. she still maintained a modest distance when she spoke to her. “i can’t imagine that you’re accomplishing much out here.” her voice was cool and neutral as she spoke, chin held high even as the other’s seated position forced her gaze down to look upon them.
Sabine noticed a figure slowly approaching her from the distance, seemingly making right for the Mandalorian and their broken transport. They sat uneasily astride the speeder, working nimbly at all of the complexities of the machine before them. She made sure to note where their blasters were at the moment (just in case trouble arose). She looked up as, after a few minutes, the stranger stopped some distance away. They made a short comment about the bike, and without turning away from the interloper’s gaze, Sabine stifled a laugh, short and bark-like.
“Y’know, it would go a lot faster if I didn’t have someone griping about my work to distract me.”
Sabine realized that their words may have been harsh, but it was a lonely galaxy, and they knew not to trust everyone that came up to them with a blaster on their hip and a half-cocked expression of smugness on their face. Still, this approaching stranger seemed...different, somehow. They couldn’t place how, only that they seemed just as wearisome a traveler as herself. This person didn’t seem to want to bring harm or tension, to either of them. In fact, they seemed just as uncertain as the Mandalorian felt. Maybe that’s why, instead of offering a belittling quip or turning them away, she extended a handheld soldering tool to the newcomer.
“But, I will take your help, if that’s what you’re offering.” They paused, and flashed a small smile. “But only if I knew who was so generously concerned with the state of this busted piece of scrap metal.”
spectrcsix // Ezra Bridger
ezra knows this is kind of a big deal. from what kanan’s told him everyone’s kind of running under the impression that he’s been dead for a little while which - is a little disheartening, but he’s dealt with worse. he thinks. besides, it’s nice to give them the surprise that he’s not, right??
he’s lucky he was kind of expecting her to leap at him and thankfully he’s ready for it, staggering for a moment as they collide but managing to catch himself and stay upright as he holds sabine in a tight hug. maybe a little tighter than it should be but - it’s sabine. after all this time, everything he’s been through - everything they’ve both been through, he figures she’ll understand. besides, she doesn’t seem to mind it given the way she’s holding onto him too. he goes to say something when she pulls back, only to get hit over the head anyway “hey! i said not to hit me!” he exclaims, but there’s no heat behind his words, no anger. he knows it’s coming from a place of care and fondness as it always has with sabine. it’s just how they are.
it’s hard to be completely sure what she’s saying, ezra never got the chance to learn her language, but he spent enough time around mandalorians to pick up the intention. “uh - i dunno what you just said, but please do not hit me again.” he smiles and rubs the back of his head. “wild space which is - really vague i know, but it’s kinda hard to explain when i didn’t know for sure where i was. why do you think it took me so long to figure out how to get back?” pausing, ezra drops his hand by his side and looks at sabine for a moment - really looks at her. “what’s been going on? i mean - i missed a heap, i know, so. catch me up.” there’s an unasked question there in his quieter, more serious tone. are you okay?
Their little brother stands tall now, but examines them over with some concern. There is hesitancy in his stance, an unspoken anxiety. Sabine reaches for his hand, and holds his calloused fingers between her own.
“Vod’ika...you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
That was painful to admit, but at least he was back. His loss was...well, it had taken its toll on her. It had rocked them to the core, pushed them away from family and towards isolation. After what had happened to Kanan, Ezra’s disappearance and (apparent) death had forced them into retreat. But they had to remind herself that it was no doubt hard on him too. Whatever he had been through-- whatever means he lived by in order to survive-- must have been hell. She was proud of him, even if it remained unspoken. They squeeze his hand once, and look down at their mud-caked boots.
“You talk when you’re ready. Whatever it is, I know you fought your way back to us. You came when you could...and that’s. That’s enough, Ezra.”
She dropped his hand and instead shouldered the pack they had dropped in surprise. He had to be old enough for a drink, right?
“C’mon, Ezra. I’ve still got that bottle of Tepasi wine we stole when we were kids.” They smiled in fondness, starting to throw an arm around his shoulders but hesitating. What if he was uncomfortable with their touch? She didn’t want to overwhelm him. Instead, they just bit the inside of their lip and then gave him a sad smile.
“Looks like we can finally have that toast to the Empire’s defeat, after all.”
“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
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?”
Artist. Madalorian. Weapons Master. Rebel. "My friends make the impossible possible." // RP account for galacticshq
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