Generally-scheming​ // Armitage Hux

galaxywon​ // Alexsandr Kallus

Kallus  scanned  the  cluttered  vicinity,  but  found  no  issue  with  it.  He’d  been  in  much  tighter  situations  before,  both  as  an  Imperial  and  as  a  rebel.  Their  ship  seemed  homey,  lived  in,  more  clutter  than  he  had  ever  allowed  in  his  own  but  nothing  to  make  him  uncomfortable.  “  Thank  you.  “  he  nodded  politely,  back  set  straight  as  they  sat  down.  He  had  planned  to  be  as  quiet  as  possible,  melt  into  the  wall  if  he  was  able,  but  Sabine’s  words  cut  through  his  plans  almost  immediately.  He  cleared  his  throat,  careful  not  to  meet  their  eyes  as  reached  for  the  data  padd  in  his  pack.  “  We’ve  spoken,  “  he  started  off,  not  knowing  how  much  he  wanted  to  tell  Sabine,  or  how  much  Zeb  would.  They  were  from  this  time,  knew  that  he  and  Xeb  had  been  much  more  than  roommates.  He  could  speak  freely  about  it  in  these  walls  if  he  wanted  to.  

He  wasn’t  sure  he  could  without  feeling  sick.  “  We  met  at  a  party  a  while  back.  They  hadn’t  been  back  for  too  long.  “  he  explained.  “  I  was…..  Inebriated.  Not  of  my  own  doing,  of  course.  “  He  explained.  She  would  knew  what  he  was  talking  about.  The  talk  of  that  evening  would  go  on  for  quite  a  while  he  assumed.  “  It  didn’t  go  well.  I  didn’t……  I  couldn’t  tell  him.  I’m  not  going  to  change  his  whole  perception  of  reality.  It  would  be  selfish.  “  

.

They listened while lines bloomed on the screen beneath her fingertips. They could feel his mounting anxiety, could tell the subject was a sensitive one. It marked him like a line of sutures, and she wasn’t looking to deepen the cut. Uneasy humor nestled on their tongue at the mention of the fundraiser.

“Oh fuck, that party? Yeah, I think we all had our fair share of embarrassment.”

But, he continued, and emotions settled, like a fine sediment sinking to the bottom of a riverbed. Strokes became longer, less even, as they reflected upon the silence in between words. Measured the pauses that gave depth to the hurt.

“Fuck. I’m. I’m sorry, Alexsandr. I know how much he means to you. But, for what it’s worth,” they spoke, this time meeting his tired gaze. “I don’t think you’re selfish. Love is...it’s weird, and complicated. Sometimes it fucking sucks.” They offered a smile, though one marked with an untraceable sadness. How long had it been since the Mandalorian had been in love? Real, true love? Still, this wasn’t about her.

“Look, maybe you can find your way back to where you were, maybe you can’t, but. But, please, Alex.” they leaned forward even from across the cabin, reaching for him in a way no physical touch could ever convey.  “I’m here for you. Aliit ori'shya tal'din.” Family is more than blood. With that admission, the Mandalorian leaned back and picked up the pace of the stylus between their fingers. This tattoo, it seemed, might be a distraction from them both. Family is more than blood, but what if you were the one holding the knife?

beroyafett​ // Jango Fett

Jango sighed and pulled his helmet off before he noticed the Mando coming his way. If they had spotted the darksaber, he wasn’t about to fight in a crowded bar, so he hoped they were reasonable. 

He sipped at his drink as he watched the other approach and raised a brow at her, gesturing to the empty seat across from himself “Not business. But I suppose that depends on if you’re looking for a drink or a fight, burc’ya.” he said with a chuckle.

He hadn’t been challenged yet, but he was sure it wouldn’t be long. He’d do all he could to retain the saber and his pride. He’d even finally repainted Jaster’s symbol on his pauldron. 

_

The reveal of the warrior’s face was disorienting, to say the least. She’d seen that countenance a few times before, had shared meals and battlefield and laughter with someone who held the same lines of worry and laughter. Was this man a clone? But, then, why did he have the armor of a Mandalorian? For now, they resolved, all she could do was listen.

“Oh, I think you misunderstand me, friend. I don’t-- Er, I really don’t want that saber. I’m no leader, trust me. I’m just interested in how it’s traded hands since I last held it.”

They motioned for the bartender to bring another of whatever he was drinking, taking the seat across from him with a smile and an extended hand.

“I‘m Sabine. Sabine Wren. And I’d love a good story if you have the time.”

 mvchinery​ // Depa Billaba

confusion colored her expression at the near instant recognition, because as much as she wanted to, depa couldn’t return it by face alone. still, she shook the stranger’s hand after returning their items, mustering a friendly smile.

at their name, though, she brightened far more genuinely, her smile broadening. “oh, sabine ! kanan mentioned you. it’s lovely to meet you too.” she didn’t know too much about the rest of the ghost crew, but she had been looking forward to meeting them. they were kanan’s family, & she was glad he had found such a good group to have his back. “i would love to get to know you.”

The warm reception was enough to give pause to the anxiety in the pit of her stomach. This woman was someone Kanan looked so highly up to. Surely it was important the Mandalorian make a good first impression, and bumping into the Jedi hadn’t exactly been the ideal start.

“Likewise! Sorry, I’m not, uh--” they readjusted the straps on her messenger bag and swept a stray piece of hair out of her face. “I’m usually more put together than this,” Sabine said with a light chuckle. “D’you, er...Do you have time to talk?”

sacreficied​ // Kanan Jarrus

so much had happened over the course of their lives together as ghost crew that had been unpredictable, so many things to be grateful for –– and yet, nothing struck him quite the same as listening the others speak about the time that he was dead. kanan imagined that the other jedi he had spoken to must have felt in a similar way, the apprehension tightly wound with gratitude. he would not look at a gift like this with lack of appreciation, though there were things about it that he questioned.

“it’s easy to get caught up in the things that we’ve lost. you weren’t around for it, but you know that i did for years.” the circumstances had been different, but after sixty-six, he’d never stopped to appreciate that he was alive, that he still had his wits about him. it had taken time to appreciate hera, too. “i’m… i’m doing well. seeing the order restored has given me hope that i didn’t know i needed. for ezra, and for jacen. i know that there will be some who don’t approve or understand of… all of this,” he gestured loosely with his hand at nothing in particular, meaning ghost crew as a whole. “but even with the order’s stance on attachment, i think it makes me a better jedi.”

.

Silence weighed between them as Sabine listened to their friend’s admittance of his past actions. He’d never spent much time talking about what had happened before he found Hera, and she didn’t blame him. She didn’t respond to his words, but nodded, just taking time to listen. Years of petty arguments and bickering made it easy to forget how alike the two could be. 

“You know I don’t know much about the Jedi beyond what you and Ezra have shared with me--” she started, combing through words and phrases with caution. “But, it’s almost funny, right? I mean, the core beliefs of the mando’ade are all about family and connection. And the Jedi are supposed to distance themselves from that kind of emotion, right?”

They hesitated, offering a small, sad smile (though she knew he couldn’t see it). They bumped her boot against his, trying to keep the energy from sinking.

“It may be kinda unorthodox, but I think it works. I think we all make each other better...And, for what it’s worth, I think you’re doing the right thing. Rebuilding the Jedi and committing to the people you care about. Who care about you. Against our better judgement,” she teased. 

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.” 

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.)

📜 – kanan

Sabine: I am not out of control! I'm a law abiding citizen! Kanan: Really? Name one law Sabine: Don't kill people? Kanan: That's on me. I set the bar too low.

(bonus!)

Sabine: I think I'm having a mid-life crisis. Kanan: You're like 15 years old Sabine: I MIGHT DIE AT 30!

@sacreficied 

Words started to stick together and bottles seemed more empty than before. Something in the room had shifted, and everything seemed a few degrees too thin. The world was stretched, but at least it was still funny...right? 

“’scuse me--” The less-than-noble warrior asked of the blurred figure on their left. “but d’ya know--”

--where the closest fresher is? Or, that’s what she meant to ask. But, when the stranger turned to face her, what came out instead was a faint squeak and...

“kriff, you’re beautiful!”

Ah, fuck. Did she really just say that out loud? 

@hopejedi​

@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.”

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.