❛  What  Are  You  Talking  About ?  ❜ / From Trilla

galaxywon​ // Hera Syndulla

“  You’re  reckless  now.  “  Hera  reminded  them  with  an  affectionate  shove  of  their  arms  against  her  own.  It  was  something  they  all  shared.  The  twi’lek  had  told  herself  that  it  had  been  necessary.  Most  of  the  time  she  still  thought  it  was.  But  there  were  some  times,  like  looking  at  something  brilliant  that  their  son  had  done,  that  made  her  wonder  if  she  would  do  it  again  today,  leave  him  in  this  wide  galaxy  all  on  his  own.  They  followed  her  over  to  the  table,  sitting  opposite.  They  sighed.  It  was  easy  to  get  lost  in  all  the  things  she  had  done  wrong  as  a  parent.  Being  a  mom  was  hard.  Raising  a  force  sensitive  child  with  an  ability  that  they  did  not  have  was  even  harder.  

Kanan  made  it  easier,  but  that  didn’t  mean  it  didn’t  scare  them  still.  “  You’re  right,  as  always.  “  They  smiled,  reaching  to  grab  Sabine’s  hands.  “  It’s  a  mother’s  jobs  to  worry.  “  They  had  worried  about  the  Ghost  Crew  constantly.  Even  as  they  were  being  thrown  into  life  threatening  events  in  real  time.  “  My  father  respected  the  jedi,  worked  with  them  during  The  Clone  Wars.  But  no  one  could  warn  me  about  how  scary  it  is.  “  

At  the  mention  of  Chopper,  their  lips  quirked  up,  sitting  straighter  in  the  chair.  “  I’m  running  some  diagnostics.  When  the  Ghost  was  on  Sernpidal  he  got  banged  up.  Nothing  that  he  can’t  handle  though.  “  She  grinned.  “  Don’t  let  Chopper  hear  that  though.  Chaos  will  come  in  ten  fold.  Even  as  they  chatted,  it  seemed  like  more  was  going  on  than  they  were  saying.  It  worried  her.  Sabine  could  always  come  to  them.  They  hoped  that  they  knew  that  everything  would  be  dropped  in  a  second  for  any  member  of  the  crew.  

 “    What’s  on  your  mind,  Sabine  ?  “  

Of course, the compliments brought a smile to her face. They knew they were reckless, and they knew they were quick enough to catch a womp rat in its tracks. Still, to hear it from someone she held so much respect for...

“Vor’e, buir. And, hey. If you worry, it’s because you’re a good parent, Hera. Because you know that this galaxy is so big and dangerous, and you just want to keep him safe from that.”

That’s what she had wanted for their little brother, too. But the choices they’d made had hurt. They’d caused scars and bloodshed, and there was no erasing that. And the question, it pulled at their chest even more, a weight that tore through her lungs and into the pit of their stomach.

Sabine valued every relationship with the Spectres, but with Hera...She had always trusted them with feelings and thoughts that the others wren’t sure how to hold. Somehow, her parent always knew how to hear their child, knew how to make her feel held. And they were grateful for that, truly. It was with that trust that Sabine sighed and leaned forward, head resting on crossed arms. 

“You know I don’t want to bring the mood down, ‘specially now that we’re all together again, but...I keep thinking about my family. Well, my other family, on Mandalore.”

There it was, the guilt. The gnawing fear. Sabine knew that Hera understood about having another family (one bound by blood and not bond), but it always felt a little weird to bring them up to her. Still, they had to remind themself to trust the parent that sat before her. 

“I don’t know, I keep finding other Mandalorians out there and it’s just. I can’t help but wonder if they’re out there, too. And if they are, why they haven’t tried to...”

But she knew why. Sabine knew why they wouldn’t try. And she didn’t even blame them.

“When I do, y’know, I just feel this pressing guilt, like a weight on my shoulders. Like it’s my f-” 

The breath caught in their throat as eyes pricked up with moisture, too warm. Too uncomfortable. 

“Anyways. I’m sorry, Hera. I’m not trying to ruin our time together. I just really missed you. I missed this.”

gcdlys​ // Ursa Wren

“Sabine!” Ursa calls, pulling off her helmet as she strides forwards. Vizsla hadn’t lead her astray. Her daughter’s armor was unmistakable. She can’t stop the relief that creeps into her voice - part of her family is alive and well, her worst fears for now abated. Clan Wren survives. (More importantly, her daughter does, her firstborn baby, and Ursa’s more glad for that than words could say.) “It is…good to see you.” That can’t begin to describe it. Certain she’ll fail, she doesn’t bother to try.

For Sabine Wren! @call-me-spectre-five​

That voice is unmistakable. It’d been years since she heard its timbre and tone, years since their name rolled off the tongue so easily. From behind them is a shout, and with it is a tide of emotion Sabine hadn’t let themself feel for weeks at a time.

“Buir?”

Shock weighed her feet to the ground, unable to move except to drink in the figure before them. The hands that had taught her how to hold a blaster, had shown them how to forge the armor of their people. Eyes that had watched Sabine as they taught Tristan how to spar, (eyes that had cast judgement on her decision to leave). Shining beskar’gam, patterns so familiar it hurt. Here she was, Ursa Wren, but Sabine couldn’t bring themself to believe it. Still frozen in shock, the young Mandalorian felt tears well in her eyes as they looked upon their mother, back from the grave.

“Is it-- I...It’s really you?”

@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?”

cravked​ // trilla suduri

there was a natural spark of curiosity that arose as a result of their statement. asking would have been inviting in more conversation, given the other room to ask perhaps more personal questions about herself, which was truthfully what trilla was trying to avoid. there was no reason for her to have anything against them, even if relatively minor judgments naturally slipped in here and there. but at least thus far, they have proved capable of deterring anything unwanted.

“what kind of information are you looking for? i might be able to point you in the right direction.” that was very unlikely. trilla hadn’t been on the planet long and did not intend to stay on it for much longer, only knew enough to keep herself blending in and without drawing undue attention. still, the curiosity was there, and there was no reason for sabine to know otherwise. lying was something that there were too good at.

the offer was unexpected, although trilla had already given them a ride to an extent. a few minutes to town wasn’t exactly equivocal to somewhere off world, especially in terms of time spent together. “i have a ship of my own,” she answered with a simple shrug of her left shoulder. “that’s not really an offer you should go around making.” the words are harsh by themself, a beat passing before they added, “given your apparent lack of direction.”

.

And here was the fork in the road, the other shoe dropped. Sabine bit the inside of their cheek, the question of whether or not to reveal true alliances a weight on her tongue. She wondered about the biases Trilla held about her-- of course, the armor and its heritage carried assumptions (and they weren’t always positive; more than one scar could attest to that). Sabine resolved that the truth may as well will out this one. If there was going to be a fight, the Mandalorian trusted their instinct. Knew her skills.

“I’ve been tracking the remains of old Imperial intelligence units-- hard to pin them down, but worth a great reward to the New Republic.” Okay, so it wasn’t the full truth. It wasn’t for bounty that she worked, but for something else. For redemption. No, it was loyalty to a shared vision created by the sacrifices they and so many others had made. For the Spectres. For Mandalore. But the admittance answered enough in its words alone.

Then, at the half-insult--

“Hey, you just caught me on an off day. I knew where I was going, I just got a shit bike rental. Happens to the best of us.” Again, the Mando suspected that the person sitting across from her didn’t seem like the type to ask for assistance, but hey, they’d been wrong before. And it never hurt to return politeness to strangers, especially if there was any chance she’d run into them in the galaxy again. “If that ever changes-- if you decide you want or need help-- I’d be grateful to fulfill the debt.”

Sabine awaited their reaction in its totality, watched the direction hands travelled and eyes wandered. The next move was Trilla’s to make. Sabine felt no need to reach for the blasters or hidden vibroblades yet, but that could easily change. 

@versios​ // Iden Versio

between the constant lag of living upon a ship and utter joys of only seeming to know artificial sunrise and sunsets, it’s not much of a surprise that iden had not been able to respond immediately to the younger soldier’s transmission. she’d gotten to as quickly as she could though, still smiling at the little quip that sabine had to offer about it. she wouldn’t have expected anything less, after all. she smiled, setting down the transmitter on the dashboard so she didn’t have to hold it, leaning back in her chair. 

“sounds like you need a vacation.” there was truth to her words, of course, was there usually was when it came to most in the rebellion. the war had ended, but their work had never actually stopped. there was always something to do, there always would be. it was an inevitable truth. it didn’t matter what any of them wanted. of course, none of them actually were eager to take pause to anything.

a sigh escaped at the mention of hosk, a deep breath coming a moment after. no, none of this was exactly what she had thought it would be either, but she doesn’t want to voice her own insecurities when it seemed like the other needed some… guidance, maybe.

“no, it’s not. the empire accepted defeat but not everyone in it did. the war is over legally, yet us soldiers are just as busy.” iden validated sabine’s feelings, taking a pause. “how close are you to the kalarba system? it’s mid rim, at least. i know there are still people left on the planet who need help with evacuation. the station crashing ruined most of its civilization.”

A yawn racked Sabine’s throat, and she shook their head. They needed caf, and soon. The ship’s autopilot system had been finicky lately, and she had already fallen asleep at the helm once. Best not to take more risks than absolutely necessary.

“A vacation sounds nice.” They stretched, raising their hands above their head. The tension in her muscles loosened, and their breathing deepened reflexively. “But if they were handing those out, I think you’d deserve the first one, commander.” 

Her friend’s words about the Empire and the work to be done were somber, but they knew it to be true. Even after the collapse of an official military, there were still thousands of Empire sympathizers, not to mention rampant crime syndicates and pirate crews. The fight for a better galaxy would never truly die.

“Kalarba, Kalarba...” Sabine mumbled, bringing up a holo map of the galaxy. They needed to refuel, and to grab supplies, but all in all, it “shouldn’t take me more than a rotation and half to get there. Will I be meeting anyone I know once I drop into orbit?”

“That’s because he inherited Hera’s good sense,” they joked, with a gentle nudge at his ribs. She could tell there was a lot on his mind, but there was no need to pry. Their language had always been one of silence, of emotions unspoken. It was...well, they were beyond grateful to have him back. Sure, she was older and (hopefully) wiser than the last time they’d met, but it was still him. Still Kanan. They’d done nothing to deserve their family back, but goddamn if she was going to let anything happen to them again.

“Ka’ra, it’s good to have you back. I was starting to miss making fun of you. Even if I can’t exactly call you an old man anymore.” The flash of a smile, marked only with a small caliber of sadness. It was a gift to see him again, but something still stung with a phantom of guilt.

@call-me-spectre-five​   //   sabine wren.

“jacen seems to be rather fond of you.” there was a warmth to his tone, even if his expression was somewhat contained. most of the results of the emperor’s rift would have been overwhelming to the average person, and it was to him, despite that he had been able to swallow much of it while maintaining his dignity. fatherhood, the restoration of the jedi order, what had happened to ezra… he was trying to follow his master’s teachings, controlling his emotions so that they did not control him. “you’ve been a good influence for him.”

kryzeofmandalore​ // korkie kryze

   Having awoken on Mandalore, Korke wasn’t sure when he was, clearly time had passed as Mandalore had looked far worse than the last time he’d been there. Korkie wasted no time finding a ship that besides a few repairs was still flyable. Korkie now was planning on finding other Mandalorians, they would have to rebuild their world, and their people together. First things first, he had to find his Aunt Bo-Katan. She would know what to do. Much to Korkie’s relief many cantina workers did not want issues with someone in a full suit of Beskar and so were quick to give him the information he asked of them, although he imagined his being polite about his inquiries had added to to their compliance.  

Korkie had received word that there was a Mandalorian sighted at Coronet City on Corellia, and so Korkie quickly made his way there not wanting to lose the lead he now had. Arriving on the planet, it didn’t take long before Korkie finally found the Mandalorian he as looking for approaching them, he removed his helmet, smile on his face.  “It is so nice to finally see another Mandalorian, from what I understand we’ve become a rarer and rarer sight. I am Korkie Kryze of House Kryze, who do I have the pleasure of meeting?” 

@call-me-spectre-five​

Hesitation rolled over their skin like a wave of static. It was electric, the surprise. This wasn’t exactly how she’d planned the day’s events to map themselves out, but it wasn’t by any means a negative. This newcomer seemed friendly enough, and there was something in his armor that she had seen before. The patterns, the linework, it was familiar. The hues were reminiscent of Bo-Katan Kryze’s followers. And at the admission of his name, the younger Mandalorian was granted some semblance of clarity. Following his gestures, she removed their helm, too, and offered an extended hand.

“Su cuy’gar! Forgive me, but...you’re Duchess Satine and Bo-Katan’s nephew, right? I think we’ve met before. I am Sabine of Clan Wren, House Vizsla.” A pregnant pause filled the air before they continued with a question long-anticipated (just one of many). It was one they’d held on to for years, waiting for the right pair of ears to receive. “Perhaps you knew my mother, Ursa?”

She hoped the figure before her harbored no ill will at her alliance shaped by birth. It’s not like there was much family left to be loyal to, anyways.

@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?”

generally-scheming​ // armitage hux

@call-me-spectre-five  //  re: Sabine Wren; continued from here

Hux’s shoulders stiffened as this rebel scum had the audacity to touch his collar. The monomolecular dagger up his sleeve would already be at her throat if she had not managed to corner him at a public bistro. Hux hoped their presence would be enough to scare off the former Imperial contact he’d arranged to meet here.   (For business purposes!)   He was weighing the risk of stabbing them anyway when their comment about the holonet reporter put ice in his veins.

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about,” Hux said out loud.   (kriff, kriff, kriff)   (how could she possibly have found out about his arrangement with Kastle?)   (kriff)  

.

Oh, his fury was intoxicating. Little did Sabine have the chance to play this role, the swaggering informant who knew just enough to vie for leverage. Something about his uptight manner and defensive pettiness intrigued them. The anger was visible, a red nearly as bright as his delicately coiffed hair. She knew the tight-lipped tension of ranking Imperials. Knew the way their fingers curled around communicators and blasters. They could place the stiffening of a spine, the twitch of a lip. More importantly, they knew how to make those soldiers tick.

“Come now, Hux, don’t play hard to get. I thought we knew each other better than that. You still owe me that date, or don’t you remember?”

It was with ease that she sat at the place set for another, sheer fabric of the evening gown almost exposing the stealth armor and vibroblades hidden beneath. Almost. They turned to the server nearest, pushing the unused menu card to the side.

“Something light and sweet for my friend and I, please?” As they nodded and dutifully walked away, she turned attention back to the general they’d so long sought more information about. “Armitage, please, join me for a drink, won’t you? It seems we have plenty to talk about.”

xspectre-1​ // Kanan Jarrus

.

“sabine you don’t… have to tell me. i’m not going to make you– relive anything…”he said, blinking as she continued, keeping his attention focused on her. his grip remained firm until– people coming back? could the force do that? thoughts briefly strayed– why he had been brought back but so many hadn’t– why only some had been chosen. 

he interrupted, feeling sabine’s movement. her greif. hands moved to carefully take her shoulders, “hey… hey we don’t have to talk about that, not now,” he assured her, sighing as he pulled her bac k into a hug. his confusion didn’t matter, not as much as her comfort… or at least, ability to calm down. he could catch up in his own time… with a small smile, he tightened his grip some, “i’m just glad you’re okay–”

.

She breathed deeply into his side, the familiar scent of leather and ash filling her senses. A torrent of emotions fought in their chest. Anger. Grief. Joy. Exhaustion. And something they couldn’t speak into existence, the feeling of finally being home.

“Kanan, I’m so- I’m sorry. I’m--”

Sorry I can’t explain it better--

Sorry I couldn’t stop the fire before it--

Sorry I couldn’t get the ship out of there fast enough--

Sorry I disappointed you.

But he didn’t remember. He didn’t remember because he didn’t live it, and thank the Force for that. Or the Manda. Whatever had brought him back, she would raise a glass to it, now and forever. Their buir was back, and nothing would take him away from her again. Fuck the rules, this was their father.

“I’m glad you’re okay, too.” They could tell Kanan was confused, was lost and trying his best to hold it together for her sake. They sighed, then used the back of her hand to push away the tears falling shamelessly across her cheeks. It was her turn to comfort him, despite the ache in their own chest. (Because that’s what children do for their parents.)

“It’s been about two years since the Empire fell. The New Republic is starting to reinstate some form of government and peace in the galaxy. And--” they hesitated, unsure of the specifics regarding his religion and people. What she did know, though, she would share. “The Jedi aren’t hunted anymore. No more Vader. No more Inquisitors.  As far as the Rebellion is concerned, Kanan... you’re a hero.” You’re my hero.