Xspectre-1​ // Kanan Jarrus

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. 

gcdlys​ // Ursa Wren

Sabine’s stillness slowed her slightly, gaze careful as she stopped a foot or so away from them. Clear shock, teary eyes, so much older - Ursa knew that the time she had missed must have held nothing good for her, for her family. A protective feeling rose up in her chest, fiercely defensive. Whatever had happened, she was here now. And she would not leave so quickly.

“Of course, ad’ika.” It was not an endearment she often used, reserved for when she thought her children needed most comfort. (And frankly, she had usually let Alrich handle the comforting. He was far better at it than she ever had been.) Her free hand flexed at her side, half reaching out to them and half reserved. “I’m alright, Sabine.”

It didn’t make sense. Mandalore, Krownest, they were in ruins. The only reason she hadn’t died in the Purge was because she’d been on the other end of the galaxy with another family. They’d long ago left hope for Clan Wren behind because it hurt too much. It hurt now, seeing the parent they’d given up on standing before her.

“Mom, I spent so much time running when I. I should have... I should have looked for you, and Dad, and Tristan’ika. I’m so sorry, I should have looked harder, should have--”

She couldn’t stop the words from tripping over their tongue, the tears from staining the careful paint of their mother’s armor as she accepted the outstretched arm, pulled themself into Ursa’s arms.

“D’you, er? Have you-- I mean.” A gasp of air between the tears, guilt consuming every fibre in her body.  “Have you found anyone else? Tristan, or Father?”

@versios​ // Iden Versio

iden snorted when the suggestion was turned around on her. it wasn’t as though she and del hadn’t talked about that at all, but she didn’t like the toy with the notion too much with others. she had always been a private person by nature and breaking that with inferno squad was about all that she was incapable of. besides, she found her work to be refreshing. she was with her family, that was all that she needed.

“then consider it out of the kindness of my heart that i offer it to you first, wren,” she retorted without missing a beat. a break would come around sooner or later, perhaps once this business with hosk station had settled, or when she felt a little bit better about the progress on finding grand admiral thrawn.

“good, you should make your way over there, then,” she decided with a nod of her head. “i’ll make contact with a few others and see if i can get someone on the ground with you at the same time. the holos have it looked like a disaster down there, so i don’t want even you on your own. i’ll forward you information on who you’re meeting up with once i know.”

Sabine’s lips upturned into a crooked smile, and they nodded. A simple mission with plain objectives ought to clear her head. They’d spent too much time thinking about things outside of their control, too much time on her own. It would do them good to be in the scene of action, to help people again.

“Can do, commander. Got a few errands to run, but it won’t take long.”

She turned to the navi-computer and started working on the calculations. Out of the corner of her eye, they could see her Loth-cat slink back into the cockpit, so she stooped and gave him a scratch between the ears. 

“Thanks again, Iden. Take care of yourself.”

Hopefully, they’d be able to do the same.

generally-scheming​ // Armitage Hux

“They work for me,”  Hux snapped. His teeth ground together when the Mandalorian had no answers for him. That scared him most of all — the explosions, the carnage, even the New Republic’s fickle new allies opening fire on their guests paled in comparison to the threat of an unknown enemy. Under other circumstances, any enemy of the New Republic was a potential ally, but the alien warriors did not stop to ask questions as they sliced through the crowd with frightening efficiency.  “Call me ‘sweetheart’ one more time and I might just change my mind about not killing you.”

Hux caught the stake with a grimace.  “We’ll have to do better than this.”  What a joke. Architects of planet-scale superweapons and they were armed with sticks. He ducked under a table, definitely because of tactical advantage and not cowardice. A passing Hapan guard crumbled to the floor when Hux sank the wooden shard into their shin. But they still overpowered Hux when he grabbed at their blaster. He squirmed under their superior strength, grappling for his life. He clawed, he bit, he pulled every dirty trick in the book, and it wasn’t going to be enough.  “Wren— Sabine— your new friends are going to kill us all!”

_

The Mandalorian spat out the blood pooling in her mouth, wiping hastily with the back of her hand. Their newfound ally ducked under a table, and Sabine crouched near him, surveying the scene for anything else that could be used as a weapon. A guard approached with hurried hostility, and Sabine watched as Hux plunged the shard into their leg. Not enough to kill.

“As if you could get out of this on your own.” The statement may well prove to be true of her, too. As sour as the thought was, the two needed each other.

The seconds passed in a fervor, and each brought with it clarity: he’d lose without their help. Reluctantly, she sprang at the guard, tackling them and digging the jagged wood into the exposed skin on their neck. Just as soon, a crack! sounded above them, and she dove at Hux, pulling him out of the way of falling rock.

“Think I’m not trying? And they don’t work for me, either, asshole.”

She swore under their breath, brown eyes scanning the scene for a route of escape. The room would be engulfed in flame in just minutes.

“We’ve got to make for the armory. Either give me the blaster or tell me you’re a better shot than you look. We’ve gotta go, now!”

mandalorians lost // a selfpara in which sabine finds paz among the chaos

cw: mention of injuries/bleeding

There wasn’t much time left to lose. The Mandalorian’s one ally (could they even call Hux that?) since this whole mess had started was no doubt rooms away by now, and she had little hope they’d see him again. But that was okay. It had to be, because there was no other choice. Because now they knelt in front of another who bore the same beskar, a faceless stranger she couldn’t hope to recognize.

He was injured, that much she could tell. At first, they saw nothing worse than the regular scrapes and cuts she’d sustained themself. But he wasn’t moving. They reached toward his neck to feel for a pulse, but to her horror, Sabine’s hand came back slick with blood. No, no, no. This couldn’t happen. She’d lost too much to watch him die, too. They had no clue who he was, but it couldn’t happen. They wouldn’t let it happen.

With a gentle touch, she removed the helm that was supposed to protect him from harm, supposed to help him carry on the legacy she’d nearly destroyed. Instead, they found a man (barely a decade older than herself), bleeding heavily on his right side. But, miracle of miracles, he was breathing. There was still a chance. Though, with this thought, something in the floor shook and careened, and they gritted their teeth in frustration. It wasn’t safe here. Tired though she was, Sabine grabbed the other Mandalorian and dragged him into a nearby corridor. They clung to the conviction of hope like a lifeline, like a snare.

Working quickly, they tore off pieces from the ruined train of her dress, folding fabric and holding it against the wound on his temple. What they wouldn’t fucking give for proper medical supplies right now. But, as her family had taught Sabine since birth, a Mandalorian made do. For moments, maybe hours (there was no accounting for the passage of time anymore), Sabine sat at this stranger’s side, pressing into the wound (even after it had slowed and stopped its bleeding) and praying to the unseen Ka’ra above. Thank the Force, or the Manda or whatever the fuck was keeping them alive, but the injury didn’t look deep enough to warrant serious attention. 

Just as they noticed a flutter in his eyelids Sabine heard the heavy footsteps of another approaching, and they had no way of telling if it was friend or foe. In a moment of clarity, the young Mandalorian knew what they had to do. Kneeling over his bloodied frame, Sabine muttered a quick prayer to their ancestors (a litany long used for children of Mandalore seeking a path to peace and safety). She left in his hands a long, jagged shard of glass they’d found among the ruins, and took into her own the remains of some twisted metal sculpture. There was no more she could do for this vod than lead the fire away from him. 

Some moments later, Paz Vizsla awoke for the first time in his life, fully vulnerable, his helmet lost among the burning rubble around him.

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.

@spectrcsix 

Star Wars: Rebels // First and last episodes

📜

...listen bestie there were too many good results to choose just one...

@generally-scheming 

Hux: You often use humor to deflect trauma Sabine: Thank you Hux: I didn't say that was a good thing Sabine: What I'm hearing is, you think I'm funny

_

Sabine: What is your biggest weakness? Hux: I can be uncooperative. Sabine: Okay, can you give me an example? Hux: No.

_

Sabine: So are we flirting right now? Hux: I AM LITERALLY STABBING YOU Sabine: That doesn’t answer my question​

@cravked​ // trilla suduri

whatever it was that had led this woman out here, it must have been awfully important –– she couldn’t imagine what exactly it was, given that there didn’t seem to be anything of any kind of significance in the immediate vicinity. trilla stood up as the other seemed to give up on her task at hand, straightening back up once more and letting their hands clasp behind their back, a tall, militaristic posture though the situation was rather casual. even as a jedi, she’d still been trained to fight, to be an army. so much for being peacekeepers. she’d never rid herself of old habits completely.

“if you’ve got enough credits to pay for a decent meal on this place, then i can get you there.” it wouldn’t entirely be out of the kindness of her heart, after all. she could use the extra credits with how far out of society she’d been for a while. she had some catching up to do.

but the mandalorian’s words make her want to laugh, well aware of the reputation that they had. them and jedi were ancient enemies, but she wasn’t a jedi anymore. “well, if you try to kill me, then i will kill you,” trilla answered simply. “i can take care of myself, even against someone like you. you’re not a threat to me, even if you want to be.”

Sabine grinned at the other’s invitation. She didn’t even know who this stranger was, nor what they wanted, but they seemed to have a sense of humor, at the very least.

“A meal, huh? Well, you drive a hard bargain, Trilla.” They started packing up all of the supplies the two had been using. “But, I think I can manage to scrape something up for the two of us. This is a rather...unusual circumstance, after all.”

Sabine hummed quietly to themself while cleaning the makeshift camp. It had been a long while since they had had playful banter with someone else, and even longer since she had genuinely smiled.

“And, hey, I could be a threat if I wanted to! Even if you could kill me, I think it would be quite the fight. I suspect we would be pretty evenly matched.”

The Mandalorian shouldered their pack once again and nodded at the visitor.

“Well, come on, then, burc’ya. Time to learn more about the mysterious stranger who I’ll be dining with this evening.”

beskarbuir​ // din djarin

──   HERE  IS  WHERE  THEY  MAY  FINALLY  BREATHE  IN  AGAIN,  when a culmination of violence frays to a resolution.   messy,  still,  and it’s another finished job for the two.   conflict is their heritage,  but it is a sister to calmness,  and it is built into the architecture of their bones.   the bounty is carbon-frozen,  weapons are secured,  and they lean on the side of their gunship with some tension finally leaving their shoulders.   however,  their breath hitches once as a fresh wound is sanitized and bound.   a cut upon an aging bruise on top of a fading scar.   it’ll take more for them to fall apart at the seams,  even if the galaxy begs for a butchering.

their companions stands a few paces away,  and they’re content in their familiar presence.   another part of them allows hesitance to linger in case of a change in mind,  in case of betrayal;  the rest of them chastises themself for the instinct.   sabine has stuck with them this far   ─   and her gait holds a loneliness akin to their own.   she may occupy a space in their solitude,  if she wishes. 

though at the turn of her heel, ❝   ─   sabine,  wait,  ❞  spoken so suddenly,  as a glove is pried off his right hand.  ❝  keep looking away.  please.  ❞  a long stare follows,  just enough to see her comply and turn her cheek.   the flesh of their left palm presses into the helmet’s rim,  the weight of it keeping some resistance until cool air brushes the lower half of his face.   the swelling of his bandaged nose bridge is touched gingerly before it travels to his cheek,  jaw,  then lips.  there,  it lingers over a cauterizing split and pulls away.   the dried coagulate slips beneath his fingernail.   gravity pulls their helmet down again with gentle guidance.   they’re healing,  and that’s the best they can ask for. 

❝  you can look again.  ❞  spoken softer this time,  when their bare hand is sheathed once more. ❝  thanks.  ❞

    ─   @call-me-spectre-five

(cw light medical injuries)

The job had been arduous, taxing on body and mind. Neither had escaped unscathed, but their friend had taken an especially traumatic blow to the head. At their companion’s bid, she turned away, quick to respect their adherence to privacy, to remaining faceless and nameless. She does not fully understand his interpretation of the Creed, but they don’t discredit it, either. Years ago on their home planet, a lesson was taught to the foundlings: Mandalore is a people, and no one warrior may understand their texts and tales in the same way. This was a view Sabine had adopted for their own, and it held true; as long as this brother-in-arms was not using violence to influence the beliefs of others, they saw no harm in his actions.

“I apologize. I…I should have been more careful.”

The sting of the sutures and bacta spray wasn’t anything compared to the hurt she felt for this travel companion, for their panic and fear. Closing the stitch on her forearm, they were reminded of the guilt. The shame and responsibility she bore for the extinction of their people…gods, it put more weight on her shoulders than any beskar ever could.

At his admission, they turn, the familiar countenance of steel meeting her gaze. She tosses them a smile and a canteen of water. He can drink when he’s ready. She’s glad to be in their presence, to share the transport ship with such fine company. Though much remains unspoken between the two, there is some layer of trust woven into the silence. It makes the questions she wants to ask that much more difficult; they don’t want to drive him away with the pressure of speech. If and when they wanted to talk, Sabine would be there to listen, but it wasn’t a foundation of their friendship.

“Vod, I-” Tongue touched the roof of mouth, and they felt the words heavy as lead. “You don’t have to say yes, okay? You can say no. But, uh,” Shit, they felt so stupid. This goddamned struggle with speech, it always resurfaced when she was anxious. “Can I ask you a few questions about your clan? About your faith?”

Manda, they hoped it wasn’t a step over his line of trust. (She didn’t know how thin it ran.)