Mandalorians Lost // A Selfpara in Which Sabine Finds Paz Among The Chaos

spectreoflasan​ // Zeb Orrellios

“Karabast, Sabine – you deserve a drink, not ten! Not unless you also want to deserve the rancor of a hangover you’re gonna have tomorrow morning. What’s this about a shit year? Slow down, I– last week was Endor for me, I– oh, kriff.” Were those tears? Panic set Zeb’s fur on end. He had seen Sabine furious, had seen her blast entire Imperial bases to shrapnel with glee, but Sabine crying? That was scary. Zeb pulled them into a hug and patted their shoulder delicately. “There, now, it’s… you’re okay, you’re fine, now, okay, just, c’mon. Alright? You can… it’s fine, have another drink, I, we’ll just, we’ll have our waters first, okay? Just take it easy, now.”

Zeb guided her away towards a chair by the window. At least here they could get a little air. Gently, they pressed a glass of water into Sabine’s hand, their eyes wide with concern. Zeb flinched at her last question, made all the more painful by the way her face reflected the same deep concern back at him. “Kriff, what are you talking about, Sabine, I– you must really be in the sauce. Nothing happened, I–” Well. Zeb might have believed that an hour ago, but not anymore. “I don’t know. Forget about Ka– …about me. You’ve got enough on your mind as it is. Talk to me.”

They threw her arms around the Lasat, and she saw the room pass by under her feet but couldn’t feel it, not really. Something cold closed around their fingers and they sat, immediately slumping forward onto the table. She looked up into her friend’s eyes and pouted, memories of family flashing by too slowly, a steady drip of molasses in the mind. A sigh pushed itself out of their lips, and they sat up, chin resting on cupped hands.

“Zeb, this year has been so...fuck. I just. ‘M tired, Zeb.” They racked through the timeline in their brain, but it felt absent and muddled. “Af-ter Kanan d-” their voice cracked, and she took a sip of the water in her hand. It wasn’t real anymore. “And now he’s back. And Ezra, too. But I keep...I keep thinking, Zeb!” The knot in her chest tightened, and those familiar tears crossed her eyes, cheeks, lips. They hated it, the crying. They hated it! “And I’m glad, Zeb, I am,” though it didn’t sound like it, “but where’s my other family? Ner aliit!” Their native tongue slipped out as she slouched forward again. What was she doing? “Ner buire, ner vod’ika.” They finally spit out the question that had been lingering on their mind for days now. “If one family can come back, why can’t the other?”

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?

“Stand in the ashes of a trillion dead souls and ask the ghosts if honor matters. Their silence is your answer.“

Fingers itched to grasp the vibroblade at her waist, but paused. Of all of their interactions, this was the closest Sabine had come to an actual threat of violence. To hatred-- pure and unadulterated.

“Trust, Armitage, that when you join the silence of my ancestors, no one will mourn you, let alone notice your departure. Despite all your efforts to be remembered, no one will feel joy or pain or heartbreak, because no one will have cared enough about your life to waste the energy.”

Anger read cleanly across their face, cool and unwavering. Motionless.

“At least I have a family, even if they are ghosts. Can you really say the same?”

@generally-scheming

@beskarbuir​ // din djarin

──   UNEASE  ABIDES  IN  THE  AIR,  so gently thawing but not dispelled,  and there is hesitation toward the outstretched palm.  however,  when the first word is shared between a common  (  yet scarce to many  )  tongue,  he finds himself already gripping theirs in a firm greeting.  he couldn’t help but echo their words,  ❝  su cuy’gar,  vod  …  as do i.  ❞   there is solace in their native salutation,  like water trickling a parched throat.  a beat passes as he stands and observes,  still puzzled by the other’s presence and speculating their origins.   decoration and individualization is frequent within their numbers,  though he hadn’t seen this particular motif.   nor do they follow the markings of bo-katan’s faction,  intricate in their cobalt hues.   the only solid conclusion that arrives is that they are not of the tribe,  not of nevarro  ─  and now only the unexpected is awaited. 

gaze keeps steady on the other’s visor.  ❝  you’re after the bounty,  right ?  ❞   an obvious question,  one intending to draw both a ‘yes’ and an elaboration,  if willing.   he wants to ask,  how long have you been here ?  though it borders on too personal.  do you follow the creed ?  the stories taught to me ?  i know you don’t,  but i had hoped  ─  even if i knew better,  i hoped.  lips purse,  and none of this is spoken.  it never is. 

instead,  he treads forwards with a truth.   ❝  i hadn’t heard of any other within the guild. not for a very long time.  ❞   he would of known,  or heard of remnants at the very least   ─   so why does one stand before him ?

The handshake is firm, and words returned in earnest. Sabine is...attuned to this person’s pain, can feel what hurt lingers in unspoken words. This is an ache she knows all too well. The ghosts of their people haunt every last Mandalorian that lives. While there is a flicker of hope, it sits heavy in the loss. 

There are questions, so many of them, pooling on their tongue, waiting to break the conversation. What clan do you belong to? Who were your people? How did you survive? Do you know anyone else in the faith? They push the inquiries aside, sure the person in front of them wants to ask, too. There is a time and place for that. Those things can be learned later. For now, there are introductions to be made and a bounty secured.

“The bounty, yes. One of the only reasons I’d visit this sandhole, I think,” they joke, and hope it is received well. Of all the weapons in her arsenal, perhaps the most used is humor. “I guess the reason you haven’t heard from the Guild is because I don’t really do my dealings with them.” Sabine weighs what they want to say, careful of where the other Mandalorian’s allegiances lie. “I mean, I follow the code, when I do decide to take a job. But I’m not strictly a hunter by profession. Just something to keep the ship flying and stomach full, you know?”

They pause, watching their acquaintance's body language for any signs of aggression. They notice that this warrior’s armor is pure, practically untarnished by paint and wear. She allows herself to wonder where they got it, and how recently. Was it new, or did they just take meticulous care of it?

“But, I gather this is your profession. Look, I don’t mean to step on any toes-- I can go if you’d like-- but perhaps we could work the job together?”

galaxywon​ // Hera Syndulla

Where  are  they  ??  Hera’s  heart  is  racing,  the  adrenaline  pumping  through  their  veins.  It’s  the  only  way  she’s  ignoring  the  pain  all  over  her  body,  the  fresh  burns  that  had  been  from  the  explosions  just  minutes  after  midnight.  Lekku  damaged,  tattoos  previously  there  now  scattered  with  marred  skin.  Had  it  been  minutes  ??  she  can’t  tell,  can’t  think  straight.  A  flash  of  purple  fabric  has  them  looking  closer,  voice  horse,  “  Sabine  ?!  “  Were  the  others  with  them?  

.

The voice rang clear and familiar even through the erupted chaos around them. They’d heard that voice in firefights and stealth operations alike, from late night confessions to hurried commands of battle. It sent a renewed wave of strength through her bones, pushed her forward, past the bodies and rubble. 

“Buir! Thank fuck you’re alive!” A pause, measuring the damage done to Hera’s lekku, no doubt a result of the flames. “Have you seen anyone else?” The question was vague, but she knew they’d understand. Both needed to know if their family was alive.

swishycapes​ // Lando Calrissian

most of the spectres didn’t happen to be particularly fond of him, given the way that he had met them all at the beginning –– perhaps not one of his most flawless plan executions, even if it had worked out just fine, as far as he was concerned. still, it did not stop him from lighting up with a wide grin when he recognized one of the youngest, wondering around the halls of the temple, appearing to enjoy theirself. at least she didn’t seem quite as displeased as kanan had been, all things considered.

“always a pleasure to see you again,” lando beamed at them. “of course. then again, I’d argue most little new republic socializers are my scene –– but yes, I put a rather generous donation together for tonight, courtesy of the mining corporation.” no sense in missing out an opportunity to brag, particularly if they still ad a certain impression about him.

It’s been a few since she last saw Lando. Uh, months? Years? Eh, it wasn’t much of a difference anyways. Here they were now, so the two might as well catch up over a drink. Or five!

“Yeah, how is the mining corp..corpor-- the guild? Or is guild a different thing?”

They felt something hot and bitter flash its way up her throat, then swallowed it back down with a look of confusion. Huh. Wonder if anyone had mixed this many alcohols from this many planets before?

“Lamdo, did you hear,” they slurred out in a loud imitation of a whisper, “that someone mixed up the ingredients in the desserts?” They offered him a delicate-looking pastry from a nearby table. “You like to gamble, right?” She muffled a grin for mock seriosity. Serios-- seriousness? Yeah, that was the one.

generally-scheming​ // Armitage Hux

If nothing else, Hux had to credit the photographer for so clearly capturing a moment he did not remember himself. The walk from the gala to Alton’s yacht was extremely fuzzy, but he’d hoped that — even inebriated — he’d had the decorum to keep his kriffing hands to himself until they were out of sight. Yet that was unmistakably Armitage Hux in the image, pulling a man into a yacht by his necktie. And that man was unmistakably Alton Kastle with his hand on Hux’s ass.

Hux knew better than to reach for the datapad. That didn’t stop his fingers from twitching when they stowed it out of sight.   (She’d won this round.)   No one who saw that image would have any doubt of what happened on Alton’s yacht afterwards. He narrowed his eyes. Their gown wasn’t so sheer that he could count out hidden armor or weapons. With a gaze every bit as sharp as the dagger up his sleeve, his eyes traced the skin above their neckline for vulnerable arteries. But that was only fantasy — he was not so keen to die today that he would take on a Mandalorian in hand-to-hand combat without backup. Especially not after he’d read Sabine Wren’s file.

“Yet you brought your concerns to me first. How courteous.”  Hux knew as well as she did — she was ex-Imperial — that countless cutthroat officers would love to get their hands on any ammunition that could be used against him. Not to mention that connecting a New Republic reporter to a man who’d tortured Padme Amidala would kill Alton’s career.  “What is it you want from me that you could not get from them?”

_

His eyes turned upon the image, and they smirked at his shift in tone. Like a glacier breaking into the ocean, he grew ever colder with the passing seconds. No doubt he wanted to react with some measure of calculated anger or violence, but he kept his composure all the same. The Mandalorian had to admit, given the brevity of the situation, that it was almost impressive.

“Hey, I’m a nice person, Hux. You ought to know this by now.”

They sipped the wine he’d ordered, looking at him over the rim of the glass the whole time. She took a breath before responding, took the conversation on their own time.

“I want you to owe me a favor.” They exaggerated the words, left them with weight unseen. “I won’t come calling today, or tomorrow, but I will come calling. And when I do, I just want to know that you’re willing to help. Nothing difficult, nothing incriminating. Just good old-fashioned reciprocity, one friend to another.”

Sabine folded their hands together in the space between them, leaning forward and never wavering from his steely gaze.

“What do you say, general?”

The landing at this hangar was a surprise to Sabine, believe it or not. Her little transport ship was having so many complications lately-- and they had had little time to repair the systemic issues that caused much of the damage. All she had been able to do lately was touch-ups, quick solutions to deep-rooted issues in the internal schematics. After one hyperdrive malfunction too many, they had decided to dock somewhere more permanent than the last few systems they had visited. She needed a place to stay and to work for a few days. They needed parts, and maybe a helping hand or two. In truth, she hadn’t expected to reunite with an old friend, but it wasn’t surprising. This was a place for pilots and mechanics to frequent, after all. 

“Zay! I didn’t expect to see you here! The Starbird needed repairs, and I thought, where better than a Rebel hangar to get the job done?” They took her friend’s hand and squeezed it once, quickly, hoping to convey support for the other pilot. “How are you? It’s been a while.”

closed starter | @call-me-spectre-five​

The day went on without Zay noticing. She had been busy tinkering on her ship, something she liked to do when she was nervous. And nervous, she was a lot. The shadow of the Corvus was all around the hangar bay for her, she couldn’t spent a second without knowing it was right there. In another life, Zay could have just walked in, get a hug. Eat her meals inside. Except that she couldn’t and had to lie to almost everyone she talked to. Zay shook her head, taking time to look around. She listened to the hangar’s familiar noise for a while, before noticing a just as familiar silhouette walking around. A smile on her face, Zay gave up her tinkering and almost ran to catch up with her friend. “Sabine!” she called. “Why didn’t you tell me you were here?”

@naboospage​ // Sache

There was a mirror in Sache’s office, and she spent some time looking at it while waiting for Sabine to come. She had to look different than what the Mandalorian remembered - she’d seen the holos showing the Saché of this timeline. All her features where almost unrecognisable- for her at least. The difference had to show in her holo message, too.

This was going to hurt, and not just her. Saché was pretty sure that once Sabine would learn the truth, they’d run away and never talk to her again. Which was understandable. She wouldn’t want to talk with a friend that didn’t remember any of her.

Once out of the office and facing Sabine, she tried her best to look strong and welcoming. The other’s confusion didn’t surprise her, but made her feel guilty and sad.

“Come in, I’ll make some tea,” Saché said as EP closed the door behind them. On another day she’d let the droid do the tea and serve them, but she needed to keep her hands busy. “Don’t apologise Sabine, I’ve been avoiding everyone since the war ended. I suppose you’ve heard of the Emperor’s Rift?” She didn’t wait for an answer, sat down while the water was boiling. “From my perspective, the Clone Wars ended three years ago. I greeted you like that because we haven’t met yet.”

Then she waited for a reaction. And for the water to boil. And for an excuse to leave, but she wasn’t going to run away from this. She had been avoiding everything for too long.

Tea would barely be enough to calm Sabine’s nerves, but it was better than nothing. They paid mind to the twisting arches of steam and the pressure of heat in her hands instead of the torrent of emotion boring holes into her brain. This Sache, she looked so different than they remembered. And now she knew why.

A note of guilt rang through the Mandalorian’s chest. If they had only reached out sooner, maybe neither person would be feeling this anxiety and hurt. And it did hurt. She thought she would have been used to it by now, the shifting of timelines and relationships, the loss of friends and family, but they never were. It was a fresh sting each time, a pain they would never be comfortable feeling. Still, she could feel the same emotions radiating from the person in front of them. Yes, the friendship would have to be rebuilt (and it probably wouldn’t look the same as one forged through the camaraderie of shared cause), but it was the least they could do to reassure Sache it wasn’t her fault.

“Well, then, it’s.” The words felt heavy and sticky on the roof of her mouth, something they had struggled with all of her life (despite her reputation for having a silver tongue). “It’s nice to meet you, Sache. Thank you for inviting me here. And for the tea.”

@cptfulcrum​ // Alexsandr Kallus

You  deserve  that.  Through  the  war  there  was  nothing  he  thought  he  deserved  more  than  a  prison  cell.  As  Fulcrum  he  had  done  some  good.  That  he  could  acknowledge.  It  was  the  only  thing  that  kept  him  waking  up  for  almost  a  year,  the  only  true  purpose  that  kept  him  at  bay.  He  had  done  more  when  he  had  truly  defected,  become  a  full  fledged  member  of  the  Rebellion.  But  so  many  people  had  seen  the  error  of  their  ways  before  he  had,  refused  to  cross  a  line  that  made  them  that  terrible  person  he  had  known  he  was.  Sabine  had  left  the  Imperial  Academy  when  they  learned  what  their  weapons  were  being  used  for.  They  had  morals.  It  had  taken  him  far  longer.  

Still,  the  words  coming  from  The  Mandalorian  are  said  with  good  intentions  and  he  smiles  a  little,  tipping  his  head  in  thanks.  In  truth,  he  would  have  done  anything  that  Garazeb  had  asked  him  to  afterwards.  He  wasn’t  willing  to  throw  one  of  the  only  good  things  in  his  life  away.  Even  if  the  thought  of  going  to  Lira  San  would  have  turned  his  insides,  had  he  known  before  they  arrived.  He  supposed  that’s  why  it  remained  a  secret  to  no  one  but  him.  “  The  war  has  changed  us  all  so  much,  hasn’t  it  ??  “  he  questioned  vaguely,  turning  away  from  them.  All  of  their  friends  and  loved  ones  had  been  scarred,  some  more  than  others,  but  The  Empire.  Even  at  its  end  there  was  still  pain.  So  much  unknown.  “  do  Mandalorians  long  for  peace  like  many  do  ??  “  he  asked.  “  Because  I  think  you  deserve  it  too,  if  you  want  it.  “  

He  looked  down  as  she  continued,  not  able  to  speak  as  the  words  faded  between  them.  He  felt  a  little  like  he  was  betraying  Zeb  by  looking  into  Thrawn’s  movements,  that  he  was  pushing  away  the  home  that  they  had  made  together.  It  wasn’t  that,  never  that,  but  he  needed  to  do  something  after  Ezra’s  death.  He  couldn’t  watch  the  mourning  of  his  closest  friend  any  longer.  “  It  is  okay  to  be…..  Struggling.  “  he  finally  decided  was  the  word,  looking  back  at  her.  “  I  know  I  have  been,  as  Zeb  has.  “  he  admitted.  “  Lately  I’ve  felt  restless.  I  want  throw  myself  back  into  something,  though  I  didn’t  know  what.  “  Even  as  he  tells  Sabine  that  it’s  okay  to  be  hurting,  he’s  admitting  that  he’s  attempted  to  ignore  all  of  that  for  action.  It  was  a  typical  imperial  response.  Again,  his  decades  of  training  back  at  the  forefront  of  his  world.  “  Zeb  would  be  happy  to  see  you,  if  you  wished  to  come  visit.  “  he  finally  said.  

Heavy emotion clouded the air between them, and silence counted itself as a member of the conversation. Sabine’s lips upturned into a small, wistful smile. They hesitated while their friend spoke what he needed to, and nodded when he was done.

“...I think we all reach for peace, Kallus, but in different ways. Some people, not just my own, think the best way to order is through spilled blood. I used to think the same.”

She paused. They could feel the emotion radiating off him, as much as he tried to guard himself against it. She wasn’t nearly as intuitive as their Jedi friends, but she knew the guilt and shame he grappled with. She recognized the hollow gaze in his eyes when he talked about the toll of war.

“Thank you, for coming all the way out here, for finding me.” They considered his words, still weighted on the air. You deserve it, too. She let that settle within her and instead decided to address the other part of his assurances.” I know I’m not in any place to give advice, but....I understand the need to keep working, to bury yourself in it. Really, I do. But, I’ve been learning-- there’s a fine line between keeping the people you love safe and abandoning them altogether.” 

So much went unsaid between the two, and she hoped he felt the same understanding in the commas, the sentiment in between words.

“Kallus, if time and place permitted, I would love to visit you both on Lira San someday.” To see the home you’ve made together. “But, until then, how do you feel about getting a drink?”