Cravked​ // Trilla Suduri

@beskarbuir​ // din djarin

──   GAZES  BEAR  DOWN  UPON  THE  PAIR,  and he wonders exactly how much better he would fare in his old,  heavily worn armor.   perhaps the attention wouldn’t have lessened with such an acquaintance at his side,  but here the unmarked chrome reflectes her colors in such a way,  it makes them a most obvious pair.  the stressor is felt on both fronts,  kept secret between the two as rolling anxiety feeds from each other in a cycle.   they move closely  ─  but not too close,  rendering a strange pack formation where there’s equal safety and danger in their numbers.   one protecting the other. 

the ‘t’ of his visor is kept leveled,  knowing that an air of aloofness and the history behind tinted transparisteel deterred stares.   ❝  a little bit.  ❞   the words are coupled with one shoulder’s shrug.   this was a place he only passed through,  leaving just a brief sighting for children to whisper amongst each other.   yet one sweep through the village is enough to know that there’s little for the agent to hide in;  an odd choice for someone of moderate renown.

canting their head to the side,  they lead them to a couple vendors with pre-empire scraps to sell.   with a step forward they flick through dialects until common ground is found,  evident in how the seller lilts her head in recognition and leans forward.   between them a few probing questions flitter, a few credits discreetly traded  ( he scowls to himself for how little he can bribe with ),  until he finally turns to his kind with a breath.   ❝  there’s some rumor of a mechanic shop acting as a front,  toward the south.  ❞  plenty of supplies for makeshift weapons,  maybe some workers in on their dealings,  or it could be just that:  a rumor.   thoughts the other were filtering through too,  no doubt.   ❝  think it’s a lead ?  ❞

“I think it’s worth checking out before we run out of sunslight.” Or before someone tips off the bounty, they thought to themself. She could tell the other was thinking it, too. This kind of risk always posed itself, the concern of some low-life selling out someone they knew then warning them of impending capture. It had happened with the Ghost crew more than once, with friends and enemies alike. 

The walk carried a weight of silence. There was no hum of twin engines to separate them anymore, no rushing terrain to interrupt their stillness. It settled itself neatly over the pair (something Sabine suspected the other Mandalorian was quite used to). She could be, too, when the time arose. But, it was always easier for them to fill the void of quiet with sound. A song or a conversation soothed their nerves more than the absence of ever could. 

“Your beskar’gam and spear are...quite striking. For all the years it’s been since I re-forged my armor, there’s been little time it hasn’t seen color. Some days I could almost forget the grooves of pure metal. Mesh’la.” 

They put the comment out there, open for commentary, or just to be held by the two. If this warrior wanted to speak, the invitation was there. If not, that was just as well. Her companion seemed the type to enjoy silence, so their nonresponse would be just as accepted as conversation. Besides, the two were nearing the workshop, which now stood visible on the horizon through a shimmer of heat.

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?”

@naboospage​ // Sache

Naboo was a unique world, and its capital was just as unique in its own way. Saché loved Theed, even if she missed the city’s natural look from her childhood. It had been shaped by the Trade Federation and the Empire, now looking like a whole new city compared to what it used to be. Even with that Saché knew the streets by heart and she led Sabine through places that Saché thought the Mandalorian would love to see. There was a lot of ways to go from the spaceport to the house Yané purchased all these years ago. Saché loved nothing more than changing her path every now and then. She also loved watching how guests reacted to it, finding out that her ideas where the right ones. “We have plenty of space for you, don’t worry!” Sabine’s reactions were definitely rewarding, Saché walked silently to let them enjoy some peaceful time for once. “We’re good,” Saché said fondly. “She knows me better than anyone, so we rarely argue. And when we do it’s more a discussion than a real argument.” Saché knew how lucky she was. They’d been so young when they first met, and their relationship could have been crushed easily by the time they spent apart when Saché was too busy at the assembly. But they held on, being friends first and lovers second. It was still the same four decades later. “Did you find anyone interesting while I wasn’t there?” Her voice was teasing, and she winked. Sabine didn’t have to answer if they weren’t comfortable with it, and Saché wanted them to know it.

.

Sabine’s eyes were drawn to the architecture they passed, gaze raising to meet the tops of businesses and homesteads alike. It all looked so delicate, detailed, and intricate. The artists that crafted such marvels deserved praise. It almost reminded them of the towering frescoes of Mandalore. For a place so storied in bloodshed and war, you wouldn’t think it a place as layered with art as any other planet; but, it was there, if only you knew where to look...

Even as they awed, the Mandalorian found themself listening intently to her friend, smiling at the happiness her friend seemed to share with Yane. It was a love well-deserved, after all the women had been through.

“That’s so great to hear, Sache. You’ve always been a fantastic team.”

Her question did tug a bit at their gut, though. Oh, there was someone the Mandalorian had their eyes on, but whether or not she was looking back was the question. Wistfulness passed over Sabine’s face for just a moment before flickering into a smile. They were unsure whether to brush it off with a joke or to be honest. Maybe her friend could help? There was a weird twist in the gut as they responded.

“To be honest, I’m not sure. There’s one person, but.” She exhaled, carding a hand through her hair. “It’s hard to tell if she likes me back. And I don’t know how to tell her...I mean, I don’t know how you and Yane did it,” they laughed, then exhaled heavily. It was weird to talk about, but they knew Sache was a good listener, knew she cared.

@versios​ // Iden Versio

iden snorted when the suggestion was turned around on her. it wasn’t as though she and del hadn’t talked about that at all, but she didn’t like the toy with the notion too much with others. she had always been a private person by nature and breaking that with inferno squad was about all that she was incapable of. besides, she found her work to be refreshing. she was with her family, that was all that she needed.

“then consider it out of the kindness of my heart that i offer it to you first, wren,” she retorted without missing a beat. a break would come around sooner or later, perhaps once this business with hosk station had settled, or when she felt a little bit better about the progress on finding grand admiral thrawn.

“good, you should make your way over there, then,” she decided with a nod of her head. “i’ll make contact with a few others and see if i can get someone on the ground with you at the same time. the holos have it looked like a disaster down there, so i don’t want even you on your own. i’ll forward you information on who you’re meeting up with once i know.”

Sabine’s lips upturned into a crooked smile, and they nodded. A simple mission with plain objectives ought to clear her head. They’d spent too much time thinking about things outside of their control, too much time on her own. It would do them good to be in the scene of action, to help people again.

“Can do, commander. Got a few errands to run, but it won’t take long.”

She turned to the navi-computer and started working on the calculations. Out of the corner of her eye, they could see her Loth-cat slink back into the cockpit, so she stooped and gave him a scratch between the ears. 

“Thanks again, Iden. Take care of yourself.”

Hopefully, they’d be able to do the same.

generalspectre​ // hera syndulla

“  You  know,  it’s  starting  to  get  lonely  on  this  ship.  “  Hera  teases  as  they  stand,  arms  already  wrapping  around  the  colorful  armor  of  their  child.  While  neither  Hera  nor  Jacen  had  much  interest  in  him  becoming  a  jedi,  Luke  would  come  sometimes  and  work  on  control  with  her  son.  Small  things  to  help  him  get  by  in  the  galaxy.  This  was  one  of  those  times.  It  was  hard  to  trust  anyone  but  their  family  with  him,  but  they  knew  that  Jacen  would  be  in  good  hands.  “  But  I’m  proud  of  you.  What  you’re  doing  is  important.  “  

@call-me-spectre-five​​

.

Their praise and embrace brought a smile to Sabine’s lips. The two shared a language outside of the spoken word. When you’ve been to hell and back with your family at your side, there are some things better expressed in the pauses between words, the silence before speech.

“Thank you, Hera. You know I’m always happy to see you.” They dropped their bags in the old cargo room, happy to see her artwork still adorning the walls of the Ghost. “If you ever want to get the little womp rat out of your lekku for a weekend, give me a call.” 

Looking closer, they noticed colorful scribbles on the wall beside her own. Huh. The kiddo wasn’t too old but his control of line, his use of color...it was already well-developed. The thought of her vod’ika taking after them at all made Sabine swell with pride.

“Jacen’s works, I assume?”

This night was exactly what Sabine needed. After months of...well, everything that had happened, this feeling was nothing short of a fucking miracle. So, they figured, might as well ride the high while it was here. Let tomorrow’s problems belong to tomorrow; today was for good company. And speaking of...

They spotted the twi’lek out of the corner of her eye, a nervous parent standing away from the prying eyes and hot bodies of the crowd. The garden outside was quieter, and well-lit with strings of lights. A striking contrast to their dark jumper. The weightlessness of whatever she had consumed carried them over, prompted them to pull Hera into embrace.

“Heraaaaa! Haar’chak, buir, I can’t you actually came!” They giggled and downed another shot, offering one to the mentor in front of her. “You look stunning.”

@generalspectre​ 

@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.”

cravked​ // Trilla Suduri

the tension was written all over the stranger. trilla had been arrogant as an inquisitor, considered herself to be extremely talented at everything that they put their mind too –– there had been a degree of truth behind it, too. in the years that they had served, they had been regarded with a high degree. she’d been an extremely deadly tracker because of her ability to read and predict the behavior of other sentient beings, accompanied by her natural precognitive abilities that relied on the force. still, they would have had to be blind to miss the stranger’s sudden tension. even then, she wasn’t sure that she could have been oblivious. the lack of real response only solidified that.

didn’t quite sound like much of a bounty, but trilla’s interest in the matter did not run that deep, so long as it had nothing to do with them. “i can’t imagine a place like this has much information.” except this kind of place was also perfect for hiding, laying low, something that they already happened to know rather well, given it was something to do with the fact of why she was there in the first place. but she’d already given the stranger more honesty than she was owed, and did not feel obligated to share more.

“you can ask.” there was a beat of awkward silence after their words, as though she did not intend on answering sabine. “i prefer to have a bit of privacy. there aren’t usually a lot of talkative people around these parts,” she gestured to the remainder of the cantina. “you stick out in a multitude of ways.”

The response was just about what Sabine expected. A quiet life was hard to come by, especially when the Empire was still in control. Even now that most ex-Imperials and their sympathizers no longer held power, it was still difficult. There had been more than one occasion where they had to fight to escape the prison of recognition. The Mandalorian didn’t concern themself with trying to figure out what ghosts Trilla was running from; she had enough of her own.

But something about their last comment gnawed at Sabine, dug under their skin. Maybe she didn’t mean much by it, but then again, maybe she did. It felt pointed, a jab at how few of her kind were truly left. Each implication hung in the air between them, and it stung a bit more than she was comfortable with.

“Yeah.” They sighed. “I do. I guess it’s always been like that.”

Their mind wandered then, and they thought about the armor, the vibrant paint it carried in sand dunes and ice wastes alike. That metal that was now so precious to others. How they would have no one to pass it on to according to the Creed...

“I guess I never said thanks. For the help with the bike, and the ride.” She bit her lower lip as they passed the menu card to the stranger. They didn’t feel much like eating right now.

generally-scheming​ // Armitage Hux

“They work for me,”  Hux snapped. His teeth ground together when the Mandalorian had no answers for him. That scared him most of all — the explosions, the carnage, even the New Republic’s fickle new allies opening fire on their guests paled in comparison to the threat of an unknown enemy. Under other circumstances, any enemy of the New Republic was a potential ally, but the alien warriors did not stop to ask questions as they sliced through the crowd with frightening efficiency.  “Call me ‘sweetheart’ one more time and I might just change my mind about not killing you.”

Hux caught the stake with a grimace.  “We’ll have to do better than this.”  What a joke. Architects of planet-scale superweapons and they were armed with sticks. He ducked under a table, definitely because of tactical advantage and not cowardice. A passing Hapan guard crumbled to the floor when Hux sank the wooden shard into their shin. But they still overpowered Hux when he grabbed at their blaster. He squirmed under their superior strength, grappling for his life. He clawed, he bit, he pulled every dirty trick in the book, and it wasn’t going to be enough.  “Wren— Sabine— your new friends are going to kill us all!”

_

The Mandalorian spat out the blood pooling in her mouth, wiping hastily with the back of her hand. Their newfound ally ducked under a table, and Sabine crouched near him, surveying the scene for anything else that could be used as a weapon. A guard approached with hurried hostility, and Sabine watched as Hux plunged the shard into their leg. Not enough to kill.

“As if you could get out of this on your own.” The statement may well prove to be true of her, too. As sour as the thought was, the two needed each other.

The seconds passed in a fervor, and each brought with it clarity: he’d lose without their help. Reluctantly, she sprang at the guard, tackling them and digging the jagged wood into the exposed skin on their neck. Just as soon, a crack! sounded above them, and she dove at Hux, pulling him out of the way of falling rock.

“Think I’m not trying? And they don’t work for me, either, asshole.”

She swore under their breath, brown eyes scanning the scene for a route of escape. The room would be engulfed in flame in just minutes.

“We’ve got to make for the armory. Either give me the blaster or tell me you’re a better shot than you look. We’ve gotta go, now!”

spectreoflasan​ // Zeb Orrelios

“Right. Better patch up anybody who made it through this kriffing mess.”  Zeb nodded at Sabine’s suggestion. Together they tracked down a cluster of survivors who’d gathered on the fringes of the area that had been scorched nauseatingly clean. There were a few wounded who could be helped by the first aid supplies they’d had on board, but Zeb saw immediately that Lothal was going to need a lot more than they had with them: more medical supplies, more food, more more. 

Though they could tell their reassurance had made some difference, and hells knew Sabine could keep it together when they had to, Zeb sensed the situation was still weighing on them as they worked. He muttered something vague about searching for other survivors to the huddled group around him and stepped aside to speak with her.  “Uh, we should probably round up anybody else who hasn’t made it over here, but….”  They faltered. He’d had more than a few anguished questions about who are these vong and why did they do this to us, questions he had no answers for.  “Karabast. People keep asking me what the hells happened, and who’s gonna protect them now if they come back. … I don’t know what to tell them. How, uh, how you holding up?”

_

The two worked in tandem, a steady silence of unease and anxiety. She could practically feel it in the air around them, in the breaths of each being that now adopted the same pain Zeb and Sabine had known all too well: the pain of losing a home. At least bandaging burns gave her hands something to do other than tremble. 

“Yeah, we should, er...” When her sibling’s demeanor dropped, so did the Mandalorian’s. “Fuck, Zeb, that’s--” Their words wavered. What was there to say? Of course these people were right to be scared- to want answers- but it’s not like she or Zeb knew any more than they did. 

“I’m living, y’know? I’m alive, and I’ve got my family,” (some of them) “which is more than most of these folks can say right now. You?”