Beroyafett​ // Jango Fett

location: mandalore

characters: tarre vizsla, sabine wren, din djarin

finitefm // tarre vizsla

cracks   of   golden   beskar   GLEAMED   under   the   harsh   light   as   they   watched   the   contrasting   pair   of   mandalorians   make   their   way   through   the   ruins   of   the   square.   one,   purely   unadorned   silver   –   the   other,   the   most   eyecatching   burst   of   color   that   they   had   ever   before   seen.   that   alone   would   have   been   enough   to   draw   their   attention   without   the   force   screaming   like   a   JAI’GALAAR   in   their   ears,   a   resounding   call   of   fate   pulling   them   forwards.

the   silhouette   that   had   graced   a   thousand   mandalorian   memorials   stepped   out   of   the   rubble,   a   hand   raised   in   calm   greeting.   they   had   no   darksaber   to   raise,   but   a   blade   lay   sheathed   on   their   hip.   the   shriekhawk   symbol   rested   like   a   crown   on   the   front   of   their   helmet,   their   dark   cape   swaying   behind   them.   they   looked   as   if   they   had   stepped   out   of   a   LEGEND   to   take   physical   form,   and   maybe   they   had   :   tarre   vizsla,   far   from   their   time,   mand’alor   that   was   and   shall   be.

they   stood   where   once   had   been   a   CITY   ,   now   left   for   the   sand   to   reclaim   as   so   many   pieces   of   mandalorian   history   had   been,   preserved   only   in   holos.   it   was   undomed,   no   longer   suitable   for   life,   but   it   had   been   a   home   to   them.   they   had   laid   their   early   plans   here,   had   raised   their   call   for   vengeance   –   the   site   of   the   old   vizsla   compound,   the   old   vizsla   MASSACRE.   they   had   eventually   left   it   abandoned   during   their   lifetime,   privately   named   the   ground   unholy.   battles   had   raged   there.   history   was   made   there.   the   first   true   test   of   their   darksaber.   it   was   a   place   of   memory,   and   it   burned.

but   the   unflinching   metal   of   their   helmet   revealed   nothing   of   the   ache   beneath   their   boots   as   they   came   to   a   stop   in   front   of   the   pair.   ❛   su   cuy’gar,   ❜   they   greeted,   head   tilted   with   curiosity.   ❛   i   had   thought   this   place   FORGOTTEN.   ❜   they   knew   nothing   of   any   remembrance   by   house   vizsla   before   the   purge.   they   had   barely   begun   to   grasp   the   spread   of   their   name.   they   were   simply   glad   to   find   that   they   were   not   ALONE.

.

The pain was overwhelming. Even without an inclination to the Force, the grief filled their bones, pulled the breath from her lungs. The last few days had been...harsh, to say the least. Never had Sabine been more grateful for the friend at their side, for a companion bound by shared creed and skill. A few nights they had traveled, rising by the light of the sun and eating in what privacy and seclusion could be found among the ruins. Guilt filled her every step, shame flooded their senses as she weighed the cost of their actions in the days of the Empire. But that’s what this was about, right? Making peace with the past?

The passage held its own form of healing, like the sting of bacta spray on an open suture. Finally, they were approaching familiar territory, the ruins of their childhood quite literally brought to her feet. Yet, by the light of the suspended star above, a figure stood, dark armor casting shadows across the wasteland. As they drew nearer, the figure rendered itself familiar, a sculpture given life. One memory flashed vivid, a pilgrimage to visit a famed statue with family in tow. The countless times they’d held this visage in sight-- osi’kyr, was this real?

How was this possible? Sure, Sabine didn’t understand much about the Force, but this? This seemed too haamyc to be true. But, who else had this armor? The stature? Shit, how was she supposed to respond? If they were right, then this was none other than--

“Tarre Vizsla? By the Ka’ra...”

Paralyzed with shock, they fell on one knee, head bowed in respect. Hundreds of times she had seen their image, had read their teachings, but this was something else entirely. And, if they were wrong, at least she had her vod to cover her six.

“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.”

@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?” 

This party had done its job to draw in more familiar faces than Sabine had expected (some more welcome than others). Still, the warmth running through their body kept her from doing anything to trouble old foes. It was a party, and the Mandalorian was sure everyone was in need of a good time right now. Who cares if they had slighted her in the past? Now was a time for good music, good food, and good drinks.

Turning a gilded corner, they noticed the smirk of someone she hadn’t seen in years. They considered ducking away, but it was too late. The figure had already spotted her and waved them over.

“Lando. Can’t say I’m surprised to see you here. This is kind of your scene, isn’t it?”

@swishycapes​ 

tarre says ... ❛  i keep on hoping nothing has changed .  ❜ 

“Yeah, me too.” She sat in the expanse of sand next to them, staring into the dying embers of the campfire. A solemn weight pressed itself against the two Mandalorians. It was inevitable, she knew, but having another set of shoulders to carry the load was reassuring. “I never knew ghosts could weigh so heavily on a heart.”

@finitefm

cravked​ // Trilla Suduri

there was the slightest urge to ask why that was, if it had to do with the armor that the other wore or something that wore deeper. those pieces of empathy that had been such a marked part of her personality when she had been a child were rising up inside of her, despite how they had tried to bury them. they were out of practice with it, she supposed, the entire reason that they had even given the stranger a bit of help when there had been no real motivation or advantage to doing so, other than some sense of goodness driving them. 

“some people are just like that.” it’s an offer somewhere between, space for the other to talk about it if they so wished to, but not forcing it or asking quite so directly. that was just as much for her own sake as it was for theirs, she thought, but it didn’t matter. after today, what were the chances that they really ran into each other again? it was a large galaxy.

then again, if kestis was any evidence…

trilla shrugged, “it was no problem.” that much was true at least. they took the menu with little real interest. “so where will you go from here?”

Questions wedged themselves between the two, a hesitancy held by both parties. In the checkered silence, Sabine wondered if the other was ever the kind to stand out-- surely the lightsaber at their hip did.

“I’m not sure yet. I don’t have the intel I was looking for, but I knew it was a long shot when I landed, so I’m not too surprised.”

She picked at some stain on the table, a topography of other dining patrons, other conversations struck and bargains paid. Dim lights shone down around the bar, though most of the room was draped in comfortable shadow. Muffled music was spitting from broken speakers a few feet away. There, Sabine sat, painfully aware of everything, every sense filled to the brim.

“Might visit an old friend or two.” Somewhere she wouldn’t stand out. Somewhere Sabine knew they belonged. “And you? Are you staying here, or are you heading off-world?” There was a quick pause, a desire to run. Overruled. The Mandalorian took a sharp breath, reminding themself that there was no war to be found here. No enemy to run from. Yet.

“My ship has room for another passenger, if ever you want to let me repay the debt.”

She only half-expected Trilla to take up the offer, but it was the polite thing to do. Shit, without their help, Sabine might still be stranded a number of klicks away, walking the wrong direction. I wouldn’t be the first time, but every time, they wished it was the last.

@chaotickylia​ // Kylia Horne​

-

What exactly was this feeling and why had it felt so foreign in her veins? The feelings of elation and happiness. As if there had never once been a darkness in the galaxy. As if there was never a war that waged on for what felt like decades beyond themselves? She laughs a little at the thought, her gaze, vibrant and colorful as she watches the blur of everyone’s outfits mixing together in a mingled mess. The energy in the temple had felt….welcoming. As if a celebration aside from the party was happening. A party within a party! Now wouldn’t that have been something? At the spoken words next to her, her gaze drifts lazily to the other, the laughter continues for just a moent longer. “Nothing’s nearly as stuffy as a tunic on a hot day!” A pause and her laughter starts to die down. “The architecture sure is something here. I’d like to find the creator. Give him a blessing!”

The comment struck a chord with Sabine, loosing another round of giggles. This person was funny! She haphazardly reached for the woman’s arm, slipping and falling forward into another stone pillar. It looked so tall! Maybe if they reached up, they could touch it--

“And one from me! K’oyacyi!” 

They slumped forward in a fit of laughter, resting her palms on knees that felt so warm. Vision turned to the fabric of her conversation partner, and their eyes widened in awe.

“It’s so pretty! Your outfit, it’s kriffing gorgeous! Ha! D-did the architect make this, too?”

hopejedi​ // Rey​​

Rey had been feeling rather overwhelmed and a bit uncomfortable, they’d never really gone to an event like this before — moreover, Rey had never been dressed as she was now. It felt a bit unnerving, and they compensated by clinging to the walls and hiding off and on in the fresher. Their stomach was salivating at the sight of the food provided, but there was a part of them that felt guilty taking part in it. Besides, there was a strange feeling that they felt growing in their head now.  Their thoughts and anxiety was interrupted though as they almost walked into another guest. “ Oh I’m so sorr– pardon ? ”  A slight blush coloured Rey’s cheeks as the woman looking back said… had she really said that ?  Rey felt momentarily stunned.

Their feet shifted backwards half a step, the world tilting on its side for just a moment before righting again. Her vision slowed and focused in on the person in from of them. All sun-kissed skin and hair that refracted the artifical lighting in such a way it stole the air from her chest. 

“I-I’m. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude, it’s just.” They clutched at where her vambrace normally would be (--where did it go? and their armor, why was she unclad in the beskar of her people?) and looked sheepishly at their toes. 

“You’re. You’re just a, uh, a.” Kriff, why were words so heavy in her mouth? This was always an obstacle for them, the struggle of clear speech, but tonight it felt nearly impossible. “You’re really quite beautiful and I m-may have.” They hiccuped and felt blood rush to her cheeks self-consciously. Kriff, this was a disaster. “Have had too much to drink.” An awkward smile passed her lips. Here’s to hoping this newcomer wouldn’t judge her too harshly for her lack of sobriety.

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?”

@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?”