Skywalkerxlegacy​ // Luke Skywalker

bly-5052​ // Bly

Bly was pretty sure the last time they had seen an actual Mandalorian, it had been one of the trainers that Prime had brought in. And they didn’t exactly have great memories of those days either. But this Mando seemed much younger than those who had trained the Vode would be if any had survived.

They were still wary as they approached though, they knew that many Mandalorians hadn’t approved of the Vode’s existence. But they had promised Prime that they’d give his comm code to any they came across.

Bly just hoped this one wasn’t a shoot first and ask questions later type. “Su cuy'gar.” they said quietly as they stopped next to her.

_

The figure seemed to move with a level of unease despite their obvious military training. Sabine wondered if they were meeting with someone else, someone she was in the trajectory of, but the stranger kept their course towards the Mandalorian. Curiosity alighted; Sabine didn’t know many clones apart from Rex, Gregor, and Wolffe (and the latter two, she hadn’t known for long). What this person wanted, she wasn’t sure, but they returned the Mando’a with a tentative smile.

“Su’cuy. I like the patterns on your armor, burc’ya.”

Politics around the clones’ involvement with Mandalore were...above her pay grade, to say the least. The Clone Wars had ended when they were in their infancy, and the soldiers been phased out of the Empire soon after its formation. Sabine hadn’t grown up knowing them, had little ideas about their claims to the Mando’ade. Still, this person was approaching with amity, so they returned the sentiment.

“Anything I can help you out with?”

l  closed starter  l  @finitefm

Flashes of gold glinted through blackened beskar as they approached, and Sabine’s apprehension grew. She was grateful, of course, but they couldn’t help but choke on their anxiety at the presence of one so revered. It was jarring, speaking the name of a legend with such casual nature. Though the initial shock of meeting them had passed, her nerves did not. After all, there weren’t many Mandalorians left, and Sabine had played their part in the genocide well enough. If this Mand’alor knew what they had done... So many nights Sabine had grappled with her worthiness to belong to the people they had helped slaughter, and still she toed that line with every sun’s rise and set. No matter the planet beneath their feet, always was that battle playing itself out in her mind. Carrying this anxiety, she greeted them with the familiar intimacy of clasp on arm, flash of a toothy smile.

“Tarre! It’s nice to see such familiar beskar, and better to see the one who fills it.” Eyelashes flitted even as she tried to hide the apprehension rolling in their stomach. “I appreciate you making the trek all the way out here. This Imperial hut’unn has evaded the New Republic for too long.”

cravked​ // Trilla Suduri

although it had been forced upon them, trilla had not been a child prepared for war. too soft, with a preference for things to be right or wrong. the clone wars hadn’t offered any of that. the empire hadn’t, either, but they had also broken her of those things entirely. they were still recovering pieces of the past, deciding which were worth holding onto.

“did you expect something else? the only thing most people know about hapans is that they abhor outsiders.” even she knew barely more than that, despite their frequent efforts to be as prepared as possible. it was that piece of fear that still lived inside of them. her brow twitched at the change of subject. “thank you,” a beat passed. “you look very… colorful. is that normal for you, or are you making a statement?”

.

The Mandalorian chewed on their words before committing to response. In truth, there wasn’t much she knew about their hosts-- other than the fact that they hoarded what clearly didn’t belong to them. This was a place of war, they could tell that much. But beyond that, Sabine knew strikingly little.She welcomed the change of tone, greeted it with an apathetic smile.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, I suppose,” they nodded in the silence. “And, both, I suppose. Without my armor, I’ve got to find some way to stand out, right?” She half-heartedly joked, tapping the rim of her drink in an unsteady rythym of anxiety. “Can I ask what you’re doing here? This doesn’t really seem like your kind of function.”

@xspectre-1​ // Kanan Jarrus

as soon as kanan heard her voice, it was clear that questioning wasn’t necessary. a little older– more hardened, perhaps, but it was sabine. he wouldn’t even question the fact that his hand had to be raised higher than he remembered. instead, arms moved to wrap around her, her own distress clear enough. 

as if she hadn’t seen him in years. 

regardless, as she spoke he slowly pulled away, desperate for some sort of answer. an  explanation for what the hell had just happened. 

lothal, that he knew it was… why, why he wasn’t on the same lothal. “i, i know that– last i remember you, ezra and zeb had just left– i was going after hera,” he blinked under his mask, trying to make sense of all of this himself. 

His arms engulfed them in a warm embrace, and she stiffened, then melted into his side. They didn’t worry about the tears staining his shirt, didn’t care that their face was buried into his neck. He was real. He was back, and he was real. She knew so many people the Rift had brought through time (for better or worse), but this? This was nothing short of a miracle.

“Kanan,” she muttered, breaking away, but still drinking in his image. He was the same as they remembered. Messy hair, hand-painted mask, dirt-crusted boots. Here she was now, holding onto his hand, still on her cheek, like a lost child. “I can’t believe it’s you. I-- I mean. I.” They paused, taking in a breath. How do you explain that you’ve missed your parent for years, while he’s only missed a beat? “Kanan, that was...over seven years ago.” She let his fingers cup her cheek, smiling through tears. “We won. Our family, the whole Rebellion. Buir, we won.”

generally-scheming​ // Armitage Hux

His pulse accelerated when they produced the datapad, its blank screen mocking him with unknown possibilities. But what could she possibly have? Hux had been meticulous about covering his tracks — he’d hired a slicer to remove any trace of him from the security footage at 500 Republica on the night he delivered the infamous Amidala tape. Then he’d gone a step further and airlocked the slicer to eliminate the risk that they would talk.   (Saved him a few credits, too.)   And he had of course searched Alton’s penthouse for bugs. Every time!  Granted, that night at the New Republic fundraiser when he had first met Alton, he had been… thoroughly inebriated   (not by his own design! Damn that Seventh Sister)   and had perhaps not been quite as cautious accompanying Alton back to his ship as was appropriate.   (Appropriate being not at all, but it was too late for that now.)  

But even as reason urged him to tread carefully, pride demanded he call her bluff. Hux returned their gaze with haughty, manufactured confidence.  “I would do nothing,”  Hux said firmly, as if saying it with sufficient authority would make it so,  “Because you have nothing. It does not exist.”  Cold sweat slicked his palms as he waited for her response.

_

His words rang with hollow intent in Sabine’s ears. Of course, he’d try to deny her accusation (no doubt a result of years of practice). She followed his glance once to the datapad and held it lithely in their fingertips, toying with the edge of the screen. He was trying to measure the truth in her words, trying to pry the evidence from them. Fine. She’d lean into the game. (No reward without risk, right?)

“Okay, Armitage. If that’s what you really think, who am I to stop you? After all--” they picked up the datapad, letting the grain of an image flash in his direction  for just a couple of moments before stowing it out of sight. “--I’m sure there are plenty of people who’d like to believe otherwise. Maybe I should take my concerns to them and be on my way.” 

They moved as if readying to leave, examining his face for any reaction. Stealth armor pressed into her skin beneath the dress, vibroblade at their thigh cool to the touch. Cowardly though Sabine thought he was, if there was any chance of a fight, she’d be ready. An inhale and an exhale marked her lungs, and excitement ran electric across the Mandalorian’s skin. The ball was in his court now, and Sabine couldn’t wait to see how he’d play.

@cptfulcrum​ // Alexsandr Kallus

Kallus  wouldn’t  pull  his  own  weapon  on  them,  just  a  small  blaster,  something  that  he  felt  more  comforted  when  he  had  on  his  hip.  Just  another  Imperial  regulation  that  he  had  never  quite  slipped  out  of.  He  didn’t  carry  on  Lira  San.  But  now  that  he  had  slowly  been  working  outside  of  the  planet,  he  felt  the  need  to.  Especially  now  that  he  had  actively  started  tracking  Grand  Admiral  Thrawn.  But  he  knew  the  Mandalorian  understood  the  need  for  a  weapon.  He  watched  closely,  waiting  for  a  moment  where  Sabine’s  dominant  arm  would  aim  to  fire.  Thankfully,  it  never  happened.  His  shoulders  relaxed  slightly,  though  their  question  had  him  pause.  

His  own  justification  was  that  Zeb  was  worried  about  Sabine  but  trusted  her  too  much  to  actually  do  anything  about  his  worry.  He  didn’t  want  to  admit  that  he  was  worried  too,  worried  about  all  of  the  Spectres.  The  loss  of  Ezra  had  hit  them  all  hard,  just  after  getting  him  back.  “  Like  I  said,  we  were  concerned.  “  he  replied,  stepping  closer  now  that  their  weapon  was  holstered.  “  I  was  in  the  area.  Zeb  was  not.  “  the  area  was  a  very  vague  statement,  vague  enough  that  he  didn’t  have  to  explain  that  he  wasn’t  on  Lira  San  and  that’s  why  it  was  easier  for  him  than  her  fellow  Spectre.  “  I  thought  it  would  assuage  his  worries  if  he  knew  I  saw  you.  “  it  would  lessen  his  own,  certainly.  

Sabine  could,  without  a  doubt,  take  care  of  any  situation  that  arrived.  But  this  wasn’t  something  able  to  be  handled.  It  was  the  death  of  someone  very  close  to  them  all.  It  wasn’t  as  simple  as  planting  a  bomb  or  shooting  a  blaster.  He  wished  it  was.  “  You  should  come  visit.  I  know  Zeb  misses  you.  “  

She stood still, rooted to the spot by the mention of her friend’s name. It was a punch to the gut, an overwhelming sense of anxiety. Sabine had left Zeb (and so many others) in the dark for weeks, months now. They didn’t mean to cause any pain. She just needed time, distance away from everyone. It had always been easier to figure things out alone.

When situations started to tense and sour at home, Sabine had joined the Imperial Academy. When she realized just what they were using her for, they had defected into the Rebellion. Even after the Ghost crew had given them a home, a real family, she had left. And, here she was, running again.

At last they shifted their weight uneasily, heavy with guilt and shame.

“Thank you. I-I should have reached out sooner, I just...” needed to do this on my own, she wanted to say. But instead, they let the words hang in the air, taking up the uneasy space between the two. 

“I’m fine, Kallus. I appreciate you coming out here and all, but really, I’m good.” She stepped forward, stance relaxed now that they knew they were in the presence of a friend, not an enemy. Instead of expressing the emotions gnawing at her inside, they attempted to make light of the conversation.

“What are you and Zeb up to these days, anyways?”

sacreficied​ // Kanan Jarrus

a huff of laughter pushed out of his nose and he nodded his head in agreement. no, something being hard had never discouraged them all from doing something –– it had only made them get a little more creative with how they had approached it. but he would give the others credit for that before himself, easily viewing them all as vastly superior to his own. he had his own strengths, that was just one that he saw being more advanced in the others.

“oh, absolutely,” kanan agreed with a deep chuckle escaping, giving a nod of his head as his arms folded across his broad chest. they would have all been lost without hera, not just him –– something that he was painfully aware of. “we’d all be lost without them.”

a beat passes, something heavier clearly laying on his mind from the crease between his brow. “if i had to choose between, i know the choice i’d make. i just hope i never have to make that choice.”

Their smile turned somber once again with his dire words of sacrifice and loss. He doesn’t have to tell her the choice he’d make because they’d already lived it. The aftermath of his decision to protect Hera, to protect all of the crew that Sabine called aliit--  it weighed on them both. Weighed on all of the Spectre crew, really, but it sat in between them in the here and now.

“Yeah, me, too.” The tone-shift was heavy and awkward to navigate, something she didn’t really want to adopt right now. With everything that had happened in the last few years, loss was always on the forefront of their mind-- often partnered with guilt. “Still, uh, we’ve always been lucky enough to have each other.” Almost always. “What’s on your mind, Kanan?”

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.”

Forget the explosion – look at the colour!

@generalspectre​ // Hera Syndulla

Hera  still,  after  two  years  of  peace,  struggled  with  the  idea  of  quiet  nights.  With  Jacen  sleeping  quietly  in  his  bunk,  they  sat  on  the  ramp,  cup  of  Ryl  tea  in  hand.  If  she  closed  her  eyes  she  could  feel  like  she  was  home.  They  heard  the  speeder  bike  before  they  saw  it  and  their  lekku  perked  when  they  recognized  the  painted  Mandalorian  armor.  “  Sabine  !!  “  they  called,  tea  forgotten  as  she  jumped  up,  moving  down  the  rest  of  the  ramp  to  wait  outside  the  ship.    Maybe  it  wouldn’t  be  as  quiet  as  she  originally  thought. 

@call-me-spectre-five​​  

After a long night of thought, Sabine had made up their mind. Surely Hera had understood their need for time and space, but the grieving period was finally drawing to a close. Of course, the pain would always stick with her, but the best thing they could do now was surround themself with those that truly loved them. She needed to remember what it was like to be loved, and to practice it in full. The war had taken so much from her, had stripped her of friends and family members alike, but at least there were still a few people left that cared. As they had hoped, their surprise visit was well-retrieved.

“Hera!” They pulled each other into an embrace and Sabine allowed herself-- for the first time in weeks-- to truly feel held.

“Thought you could use some company. How are you and Jacen? And Kanan?”