Goldenrod :   does Your Muse Believe In Luck Or Fortune ? Why Or Why Not ?   where Do They Believe

@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.”

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.”

@spectrcsix 

Star Wars: Rebels // First and last episodes

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.

cravked​ // Trilla Suduri

there are several things on display, and trilla had to admit, she wasn’t sure if she was disturbed or impressed by the amount of gall that the hapans must have possessed to put some of these things on display. as they observed what was held out, an eye was also placed on those around, mildly surprised to see a familiar face casing the room. hm. they watched sabine briefly before deciding to approach. “does all this seem a little crass to you too?”

.

It had taken more than the Ghost Crew’s fair share of advice to calm her temper upon hearing how the few remnants of her people had been stolen and put on gross display as some twisted show of colonization. But, now? Standing here? Sabine nearly felt sick to their stomach, looking at the skeletal remains of another warrior, their armor and weapons hung up by those who benefitted from Mandalore’s destruction. So lost in their fury did she hardly notice the figure that spoke into the silence, their tone easily recognizable.

“It’s apalling.” Sabine seethed, nails digging into the skin on her palms. Despite their anger, her tone remained the same, a slow drip of cold emanating outwards in every direction. “These relics, they don’t belong behind glass cases and locked doors. They belong in the hands of my people.” And they would be, soon. If Sabine could do nothing else, they’d see this done. “Sorry, Trilla. I’m not trying to direct my feelings about this onto you.”

@cptfulcrum​ // Alexsandr Kallus

It  was  times  like  this  where  Kallus  thought  about  how  young  Sabine  and  Ezra  had  been  when  the  war  had  started.  They  were  not  much  older  than  children,  yet  to  the  enemy  they  had  been  heinous  rebels.  No  remorse  for  even  an  orphan  like  Ezra,  who  had  learned  to  survive.  He  had  chased  them  like  dogs.  As  they  spoke  to  him  he  sighed.  He  knew  all  about  that.  The  Empire  had  instilled  so  many  beliefs  in  him  and  it  had  taken  two  times  as  much  work  for  him  to  realize  that  the  brainwashing  was  just  that.  He  was  a  cog  in  the  machine,  no  one  special.  There  was  so  much  he  could  actually  do.  It  was  liberating  when  he  had  finally  started  asking  questions,  gaining  an  awareness.  The  cloud  had  been  lifted.  It  sounded  similar  for  his  Mandalorian  friend.  “  You  are  right  of  course…..  Not  everyone  has  the  same  idea  of  peace.  “  his  peace  had  been  sitting  on  his  porch  with  Zeb,  actually  able  to  take  a  breath  of  fresh  air.  A  home  that  was  his.  What  was  his  peace  now?  

It  was  easy  for  him  to  notice  how  Sabine  was  able  to  turn  things  back  to  him  and  how  poorly  he  was  doing.  But  he  didn’t  want  to  think  about  that  now,  Zeb  back  on  Lira  San,  abandoned  by  Kallus  to  go  on  some  self  serving  mission  to  capture  Thrawn,  only  stopping  because  he  was  worried  about  his  friends.  His  jaw  clenched  and  he  looked  away  again.  He  couldn’t  explain  this,  not  to  anyone.  “  Zeb’s  been  fighting  a  long  time.  Longer  than  many  of  us.  I  don’t…..  I  can’t  pull  him  back  in.  He  deserves  peace  more  than  anyone  I  know.  “  his  tone  is  guarded  now  and  when  he  looks  back,  his  eyes  are  colder.  No  one  would  agree  with  him  more  than  the  Ghost  Crew,  but  he  needed  to  make  his  intentions  clear.  Kallus  knew  that  Zeb  could  and  would  make  his  own  choice  if  need  be,  but  he  didn’t  want  it  to  come  to  that  point.  

He  shouldn’t  be  so  tense  with  Sabine.  The  Ghost  Crew  had  changed  his  life,  gave  him  something  to  actually  make  it  worth  while.  What  would  he  be  without  them?  Still,  Garazeb  made  him  question  everything  to  begin  with,  called  him  friend  when  he  deserved  anything  but.  He  would  protect  the  Lasat  with  all  he  had.  “  A  drink  sounds  nice.  “  he  agreed,  eyeing  them.  “  I  don’t  mean  to  be….  Harsh.  I  just  don’t  want  to  pull  him  back  into  this.  Not  unless  he  really  wants  to.  I  just  want  him  to  be  happy,  Sabine.  You  must  understand  that.  “  He  pulled  his  jacket  closer  to  him,  “  Do  you  have  a  cantina  in  mind?  “  

Tension permeated the air as her friend tightened his jaw. Sabine noticed the turning in his eyes, the shift from comfort to pain. They realized in that instant that their advice may have been too critical, could have come off as blaming this man for caring too much. That’s the last thing she wanted to convey. She knew how much Kallus meant to Zeb. How much they both meant to each other.

“Kallus, I think I...might not have explained myself well.” They took a breath, chose their words with more caution this time, careful not to seem judgmental. “I’m not blaming you, my friend,” they said with hesitancy as they reached down to wipe a smudge of dirt off the pigment of her armor. It needed a repainting soon, they noted.

“I understand how much you care for Zeb. For-- Well, for all of us.” They held his gaze, hoping to show him how much she cared too. “I just worry, is all. Well, I. And, I know-- I know we’ve been through...similar experiences.” They gritted their teeth through a smile and nodded. “I really don’t blame you one bit, Kallus. I just want you to be careful. For Zeb.” For all of us. They wiped the corner of their eye quickly, ignoring the moisture that had formed there. They’d both been through so much. This war had cost them both so much.

“C’mon, the Twisted Mynock Cantina is just a couple of klicks from here. Besides, I’ve gotta return this speeder bike to some old smuggler by sundown.”

As the two walked to where their bikes were parked, Sabine reached up, slowly, and placed their hand on Kallus’s shoulder. They had more in common than either of them cared to admit.

“I could really use that drink right about now.” 

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.”

spectreoflasan​ // Zeb Orrelios

“Karabast, Sabine, I….” Zeb raised their glass, heaved a sigh, and set it down. Seeing Sabine cry was excruciating. They got each other, Zeb and Sabine, but it had always remained unspoken – their true vulnerability hidden behind walls that both knew damn well the other could see right through, but they’d allowed each other the pretense of those safeguards, of… strength? Was that really what it was? But the impulse Zeb felt to lighten the gravity of this moment with some stupid joke or deflection… that wasn’t what Sabine needed. It wasn’t strength, that’s for sure. “I… I’m sorry. I hate hearing you had such a bad year. I wish I’d been there.” Had they been? Zeb had no idea what Sabine had been through in the last year, but it didn’t take a hyperspace scientist to tell it had been shit.

Sabine’s last question – their lapse into Mando’a – it hit Zeb right in the gut, in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. “Sounds like the Empire got both our families.” Zeb’s hand clenched around their glass until it began to shake. They forced themself to relax before they broke any more glassware tonight.   ‘What happened on Lasan, it’s over for me,’   Zeb had said to Kallus once, and he had meant it. Recognizing their own ache in Sabine’s voice, though, it ripped the scab off and left them as raw as ever. So… Zeb said the only thing that had gotten them through it in the first place. It wasn’t like Sabine hadn’t seen them bleed before. “Maybe they can come back, maybe they can’t. Maybe they will. I don’t know. Wish I did. But I do know that right now, we have each other, and that counts for something. Voddy…” Karabast, he had to get this right. “Vod’ika.”

Her sibling’s words were a calm wave, something to grip onto among the onslaught of emotions she was facing. Manda, did they really feel that way? There was a twist in their stomach as her older sibling’s voice contorted in pain. In honesty. Even through the swimming vision and the burn in her throat, she knew what he was trying to say. It was familiar, the way they quietly shared each other’s struggles, the silent language of siblinghood. The grief and assurances were nonverbal more often than not, but just as prominently spoken. This time, though...Zeb surprised her. Their attempt at her first language-- it pushed her out of the chair and into his embrace. Before either could register the movement, Sabine threw their arms around his wide frame, buried her face in their fur.

“Ni k-kar’tayl gar darasuum, ori’vod.” It was familiar, the embrace. It was safe. “I missed you, big brother. I mean, I really missed you.” 

The Mandalorian let go, but held his piercing green gaze. And she gave as much of a grin as she could muster.

“I missed you, and your shit Mando’a.” 

❝ 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.”

❛ who am i to you ? ❜ from bo katan

The answer weighed heavy on her tongue. Once, they could have spoken truthfully, and with ease. But now? This Bo-Katan was different, younger. Unpredictable.

“You’re my friend and ally, Bo. I honor your commitment to Mandalore, and I trust that you’d honor our friendship if ever one of us needed help.”

They only hoped her words would not come back to cut them in time.