Latest Posts by call-me-spectre-five - Page 4

@pilotheart​ // Zay Versio

Zay Versio was… at loss with what she was supposed to say, now. She had people flirt with her, before, but it was often on missions, and often strangers, and she had no remorse in telling them off. There, she knew she was messing things up. And did not like even the idea of it. “Uh, it’s probably my fault,” Zay said. “I’m barely on base, so maybe you didn’t have time to actually ask.” To be honest, that wasn’t even a suggestion. Zay was always out flying, partly because she loved it and felt better on a ship than on ground, and because it helped in avoiding to be on the same base than her parents. Until now. “Will you teach me some mando'a, one day? It always sounds pretty.” Wow, that was stupid. But she’d always been interested in learning it, having inherited her father’s curiosity. Sabine’s next question made her freeze, though. Zay wasn’t on Onderon to have fun, but there was so many people that she probably wouldn’t be noticed leaving. And half of them didn’t have their senses, just like her friend. “If you’re ready to get your feet crushed, because I’ve never learned.” This was a mistake… but then again, Sabine was visibly drunk, so they weren’t going to remember it.

.

Though the room was spinning and shifting around them (was it more to do with the high or the nerves?), there was one thing Sabine could count on remaining steady. Those eyes. Zay’s eyes reflected the light above and around in a brilliance, a gaze of whiskey filtering sunlight. Sabine’s breath caught in their throat, and the Mandalorian took her friend’s hand gently in their own. 

“Zay, I would tell you anything you wanted to know,” they found themself breathing as the two adjusted their weight, an awkward movement of hands on shoulders, hips. They were unsure, both toeing gently around each other. Still, it wasn’t about the music or timing or even the missteps. It was more than that.

“I don’t think I can dance either,” they blushed, pulling her friend as close as she dared. Sure, she had learned once upon a time (there was a rhythm to war just as a there was to dance), but now... The music spun itself between them, filling the pauses with a prompt of movement and rhythm. The two rocked, slowly, and a little out of time, but the gesture was just as sweet. “Not like this, I mean.” Inebriated. Shitfaced. Fuck, what was she doing? Zay probably thought they were only acting on liquor and high. Did she think Sabine wasn’t sincere? It hurt to wonder. They cursed the stutter that burdened her lips, cursed the alcohol and the drugs and the fluttering fear at the thought of her friend’s hand in her own.

“Zay, I-I know you think it’s. That it’s because I’m drunk, and that’s partly true, but I— I feel like this when I’m sober, too. Okay. Like, even though there’s a million stars out there, all I can look at,” she exhaled softly, two pairs of war-marked eyes meeting and glancing away, “is you.”

There it was. And nothing could take it back now (not that they would if they could). Because Zay was worth the risk.

“You find me tomorrow and I’ll tell you the same thing.” And it was true. It had been true for weeks, months now. All she could do was hope their friend felt the same.

@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.

spectreoflasan​ // Zeb Orrellios

“Karabast, Sabine – you deserve a drink, not ten! Not unless you also want to deserve the rancor of a hangover you’re gonna have tomorrow morning. What’s this about a shit year? Slow down, I– last week was Endor for me, I– oh, kriff.” Were those tears? Panic set Zeb’s fur on end. He had seen Sabine furious, had seen her blast entire Imperial bases to shrapnel with glee, but Sabine crying? That was scary. Zeb pulled them into a hug and patted their shoulder delicately. “There, now, it’s… you’re okay, you’re fine, now, okay, just, c’mon. Alright? You can… it’s fine, have another drink, I, we’ll just, we’ll have our waters first, okay? Just take it easy, now.”

Zeb guided her away towards a chair by the window. At least here they could get a little air. Gently, they pressed a glass of water into Sabine’s hand, their eyes wide with concern. Zeb flinched at her last question, made all the more painful by the way her face reflected the same deep concern back at him. “Kriff, what are you talking about, Sabine, I– you must really be in the sauce. Nothing happened, I–” Well. Zeb might have believed that an hour ago, but not anymore. “I don’t know. Forget about Ka– …about me. You’ve got enough on your mind as it is. Talk to me.”

They threw her arms around the Lasat, and she saw the room pass by under her feet but couldn’t feel it, not really. Something cold closed around their fingers and they sat, immediately slumping forward onto the table. She looked up into her friend’s eyes and pouted, memories of family flashing by too slowly, a steady drip of molasses in the mind. A sigh pushed itself out of their lips, and they sat up, chin resting on cupped hands.

“Zeb, this year has been so...fuck. I just. ‘M tired, Zeb.” They racked through the timeline in their brain, but it felt absent and muddled. “Af-ter Kanan d-” their voice cracked, and she took a sip of the water in her hand. It wasn’t real anymore. “And now he’s back. And Ezra, too. But I keep...I keep thinking, Zeb!” The knot in her chest tightened, and those familiar tears crossed her eyes, cheeks, lips. They hated it, the crying. They hated it! “And I’m glad, Zeb, I am,” though it didn’t sound like it, “but where’s my other family? Ner aliit!” Their native tongue slipped out as she slouched forward again. What was she doing? “Ner buire, ner vod’ika.” They finally spit out the question that had been lingering on their mind for days now. “If one family can come back, why can’t the other?”

pilotheart​ // Zay Versio

Well, that was smooth, uh? Zay wasn’t good at talking. Especially when she was worried, and her friend’s attitude was worrying her. It wasn’t a good new at all. Arriving in that time, Zay had decided she wasn’t going to get too attached to anyone - she couldn’t afford it when a relationship was based on a lie, right? But there she was. She had been lucky that Jyn understood it. She wasn’t sure that Sabine would, once the truth would go out. If it ever did. “No.” Zay shook her head. “You’re not that straightforward.” Not that Zay didn’t like it. Even if Sabine was drunk, or high, or whatever - and probably didn’t think it.

 “Oh,” was all they could find to say, a hollow ringing making its way through her ears. Was that real? Or the roar of a crowd and the hum of instrumentalists flickering in and out of her periphery? But try as they might, the Mandalorian couldn’t focus on that noise because they couldn’t take their eyes off of her friend. They listened with intent, face falling a little at Zay’s response. I must be a kriffing loser when I’m sober, huh?

“W-well, why not? I must be di’kutla for never having the gett’se to ask you on a proper date.” 

The music swelled up to a crescendo, filling her with a new sense of bravado. If they didn’t ask now, would they ever? Something fluttered in the pit of her stomach, but instead of pushing it away, they let it carry her forward, closer to the friend they found so enthralling. 

“Zay Farren, may I have this dance?”

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.

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. 

@lcstpadawan​ // Cal Kestis

nothing substitutes good working parts at the end of the day, but there’s usually enough of that to be found in scraps if you know where to look. and cal did it for years, threw himself into it for so long he almost forgot who he was meant to be. between sabine and bd1, it should be easy enough to figure out a way to communicate with someone in the new republic to come and pick them up, he just needs to be patient, pick out the workable equipment from this mess.

“well then we should be fine.” he says with a smile as they get to work. he doesn’t know sabine but so far she’s been more than helpful, comfortable company to have on a mission - something he’s not necessarily used to, but he’s more than happy for it. he picks apart enough to get some workable equipment, melding some of it together himself and passing others over to sabine when he’s not sure where they could come in handy, chipping away until -

“huh? what’d you find?” he asks, pushing himself up to head over to her. there’s plenty to find here if you actually look for it so he’s not all that surprised. “something that’s gonna help us get home?”

.

Paint was more than familiar to Sabine, something that ran in their family’s history. It could animate narratives and express what words never could, capturing a single moment in time for as long as the paint stood dry. It was functional, a protective layer for any precious metal hidden beneath its touch. The Mandalorian prized themself in recognizing hues and guessing the origin of art supplies just by their appearance, their texture. The markings on this scrap heap, however, were nothing if not foreign to her.

“I’m not sure.” She studied the metal, the scratches on what seemed to once be the hull of a small transport, perhaps a bomber? Or stealth fighter? Whatever it was, it was confusing, an insignia hastily scrawled then abandoned.

"This transport...I’ve never seen any markings like this before. I-I don’t know where they’re from,” she mumbled, searching for any remains of the ship among the wreckage. Not twenty yards away, there it sat, torn to pieces and half-buried. How had the two missed that? Sabine hastily captured images on their datapad, then turned to her new acquaintance. 

“Cal, d’you think this subspace transceiver is salvageable?”

@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?”

@spectreoflasan​ // Zeb Orrelios

“I am cool,” Zeb snapped. “You know what’s not cool? Karking up your guts before it’s even hit kriffing midnight because you don’t know how to hold your liquor.” Karabast, he’s going to have to set a good example, isn’t he. With once last wistful glance at the mutlicolored and very potent-looking drink in their hand, Zeb slid it down the bar to the person on their other side and grumbled, “Knock yourself out, mate. You! Barkeep! Two waters, now.” Zeb’s gruff edge lingered as he turned back to Sabine. “Now hydration, that’s cool. You want to actually enjoy your drinks? Then pace yourself.”

Oh, for the love of Alderaan. ‘Hydration, that’s cool’ ?  Zeb had never felt so old in their kriffing life. But that’s what Sabine needed right now. Guilt twisted his stomach as they stumbled against him. Hadn’t Zeb’s lousy excuse for a parallel-timeline counterpart bothered to teach her to drink properly? Zeb set a steadying hand on Sabine’s shoulder, even as their last comment provoked a growl. “And for the last time, Kallus is not my boyfriend. ‘Sides, he’s in no state to be looking after anybody right now.”

“I w-would hold my liquor fine! If you would give it back to me!” They yelped as he pawed her reaching hand away. (Heh. Pawed). They shot the bartender a nasty glare and tried standing on her own. Feet felt like lead and head too thin, and the metal of the counter dug into their skin. 

“Zebbbbb, don’t you think I deserve a drink after the shit year I’ve had?! W-why not! Why not get fuck-king shitfaced?” She huffed. This had to be a joke. First all of the-- the shit! The shit with Ezra and Kanan and Mandalore, and-- and it hurt! It hurt and it was scary and it made her hands shake and her chest tight and!  And they just wanted it to mute, just for a moment! Moisture pooled at their eyes as Zeb spoke, as they responded. At his words, her face fell immediately, turning from anger and fear to...to something that ached deeper. Something was wrong. Something was really wrong.

“Wh-what do you mean he isn’t your boyfriend? Did. Did something happen?”

spectrcsix​ // Ezra Bridger

ezra knows this is kind of a big deal. from what kanan’s told him everyone’s kind of running under the impression that he’s been dead for a little while which - is a little disheartening, but he’s dealt with worse. he thinks. besides, it’s nice to give them the surprise that he’s not, right??

he’s lucky he was kind of expecting her to leap at him and thankfully he’s ready for it, staggering for a moment as they collide but managing to catch himself and stay upright as he holds sabine in a tight hug. maybe a little tighter than it should be but - it’s sabine. after all this time, everything he’s been through - everything they’ve both been through, he figures she’ll understand. besides, she doesn’t seem to mind it given the way she’s holding onto him too. he goes to say something when she pulls back, only to get hit over the head anyway “hey! i said not to hit me!” he exclaims, but there’s no heat behind his words, no anger. he knows it’s coming from a place of care and fondness as it always has with sabine. it’s just how they are.

it’s hard to be completely sure what she’s saying, ezra never got the chance to learn her language, but he spent enough time around mandalorians to pick up the intention. “uh - i dunno what you just said, but please do not hit me again.” he smiles and rubs the back of his head. “wild space which is - really vague i know, but it’s kinda hard to explain when i didn’t know for sure where i was. why do you think it took me so long to figure out how to get back?” pausing, ezra drops his hand by his side and looks at sabine for a moment - really looks at her. “what’s been going on? i mean - i missed a heap, i know, so. catch me up.” there’s an unasked question there in his quieter, more serious tone. are you okay?

Their little brother stands tall now, but examines them over with some concern. There is hesitancy in his stance, an unspoken anxiety. Sabine reaches for his hand, and holds his calloused fingers between her own. 

“Vod’ika...you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” 

That was painful to admit, but at least he was back. His loss was...well, it had taken its toll on her. It had rocked them to the core, pushed them away from family and towards isolation. After what had happened to Kanan, Ezra’s disappearance and (apparent) death had forced them into retreat. But they had to remind herself that it was no doubt hard on him too. Whatever he had been through-- whatever means he lived by in order to survive-- must have been hell. She was proud of him, even if it remained unspoken. They squeeze his hand once, and look down at their mud-caked boots. 

“You talk when you’re ready. Whatever it is, I know you fought your way back to us. You came when you could...and that’s. That’s enough, Ezra.”

She dropped his hand and instead shouldered the pack they had dropped in surprise. He had to be old enough for a drink, right?

“C’mon, Ezra. I’ve still got that bottle of Tepasi wine we stole when we were kids.” They smiled in fondness, starting to throw an arm around his shoulders but hesitating. What if he was uncomfortable with their touch? She didn’t want to overwhelm him. Instead, they just bit the inside of their lip and then gave him a sad smile. 

“Looks like we can finally have that toast to the Empire’s defeat, after all.”

@cravked​ // Trilla Suduri

even if she no longer felt any kind of loyalty to the empire, or any dependency on the dark side of the force like she had for so long, it would have been a foolish mistake to label trilla as a nice, friendly person. there was still empathy that blossomed inside of her chest, a desire to help people that she did not like to admit existed, but she was all rough edges on the exterior, intense stares and snappy comments that weren’t necessarily underlain with some kind of care. many pieces of who she had been in the past had been recovered in the last two years of isolation and healing, but there were some aspects of her people skills that still needed work.

navigating their way back to the city is no particular challenge for her. although trilla was not particularly familiar with the area, her senses were especially sharp with the use of the living force around her, sensing problems long before they could arise and correcting appropriately. there’s not much of a nicer place to stop in front of, given where they were. but it was water and food, and a chance for the other to get some assistance better for their own long-term goals.

“no.” it wasn’t an interesting answer by any means as trilla stepped inside of the cantina, glancing back to make sure that they were still following. “i don’t like crowds,” she offered as some half-assed explanation, the truth infinitely more complicated than anything that she was willing to explain to a stranger. but despite the lack of interest that she’d displayed before, she did have some questions for them, waiting until they had seated in an otherwise empty corner. “so what’s someone with armor like that doing stuck in the middle of nowhere?” she knew their reputation, at least. “bounty gone wrong?”

At the mention of their armor, she froze. Once content to explain the significance of the metal, the pride that came with bearing its weight, Sabine now bit the inside of their cheek. After...after everything that had happened to Mandalore, the only strangers that asked questions were the ones who saw the metal she bore as a prize, a husk to be shucked and taken as spoils of war. So often these people thought her disposable, some sick challenge to defeat in order to stake their claim to the only piece of her family she had left. It was a move more than one piece of bantha shit had tried to pull on them before. Trilla didn’t seem like a person with ill intentions; they appeared to be a fatigued traveler, just as herself. But the Mandalorian had been wrong before, and the price for this kind of misjudgment was not forgiving.

“Something like that, yeah.” They exhaled thickly, glancing now across the restaurant, scanning for threats. For escape routes. Their breathing quickened as she remembered all of the times she’d been trapped in places like this. Was it safe here? Was someone after them? Who was this person at the table in front of her, to offer their help and accept no thanks? Muscles tensed, and Sabine forced their breathing to slow down. 

Think, chakaar. You can’t keep yourself safe if you’re not calm. The Empire isn’t here. Just talk.

“I came here on the good word of a friend, looking for information. But, all I got was a busted speeder bike and a waste of my ship’s fuel.” A hush fell as Sabine thought of the lightsaber hilt, lying in wait on Trilla’s waist. Flashbacks of the scarlet blades, of eyes filled with hatred and hearts without mercy. Being hunted ruthlessly as a child, guilty by association. Being hunted now. Fingers drummed anxiously on the table. Surely the person in front of her couldn’t be-- If they’d wanted to kill her, they would have done it by now.

“What about you? Can I ask how you found yourself in this backwater system?”

@naboospage​ // Sache

There was a lot of things Saché was worried about but just this once, it wasn’t the government. She served enough governments for a lifetime, and spending the war in hiding had been… a hard earned break. It was easy for her to recognise the look on Sabine’s face, who was apparently searching for signs of fatigue that Saché, for once, did not feel. “I always do,” she answered. “When Panaka gave me his job, I rearranged the furniture in his old office so that I could see the window while working.” The best view of Theed wasn’t there, though. But in the Queen’s chambers. “How long are you staying? Yané’s working, but she’ll be back in time for dinner.”

As they walked, the Mandalorian found themself beaming. It was so good to be back among the company of an old friend, and in such a picturesque place no less. The garden they treaded was nothing short of breathtaking. As they talked, small avian creatures fluttered above and around, and flora arrayed by hue bowed gently in the wind. It was a peaceful place, and exactly what someone as kindhearted as Sache deserved.

“I’m glad for that, my friend. A landscape as beautiful as this deserves to be admired.” And Force knows Sache deserved someone to admire it with.

The two passed a group of schoolchildren weaving each other’s hair into intricate braids and laughing at a tooka cat darting between carven statues. One of the children ran up to them and complimented the colors on her armor, and suddenly it struck her. This is what the Rebellion had fought for. She had bled and cried and lost family members so these kids (and so many others across the galaxy) could have the life she never did. They thanked the child and handed them a flower from a nearby tree, smile cracking a little at the tide of emotion.

“I’d love to stay a few days, if you can spare a room. How are things with you and Yane?” They asked, careful to tread the waters on this one. Relationships weren’t exactly her forte, but she cared about these two, cared about their happiness. After all, they had been nothing but gracious to Sabine for years now.

@swishycapes​ // Lando Calrissian

sabine was a lot of things, that much had been immediately certain upon meeting them –– he liked that kind of person, really, even if they weren’t so precisely aligned with his motives, like they had been at the time. but the way that she stuttered over her words, struggled to get through a sentence, that didn’t seem like her. so the little mandalorian wasn’t the best at holding her alcohol. that was cute, in the kid kind of way.

“i do like to gamble,” he clapped them on the back. “if i didn’t know any better, i’d say that you’ve already been gambling with something. or is that just the alcohol?” he grinned, his smile all friendly teeth. he took the pastry from her without hesitation, taking a bite out of it. “alright, your turn. why don’t you go for… this one?” he picked up one of the purple cupcakes on the table, handing it to them.

A hearty slap on her back, and she nearly choked on the drink they were holding. They hid the growing smile behind her hand as giggles racked their way up her throat. Maybe this scoundrel wasn’t so...scoundrel-ey after all! Force, the music was so loud in their ears! She bobbed up and down on their feet, body pulsing with the rhythm of the performers. Is this what f r e e dom felt like? Hell, not even the Empire could catch up to them now! Her friend’s face was blurry when they turned to face him, almost everything moving too slowly. With a snort, she mouthed a laugh, but no sound came out. Well, none she heard.

“Wha-what you don’t get,” they hiccuped, then reached haphazardly for the dessert they were extending so temptingly towards her. 

“Is that I don’t gamble, Lando” She stressed the last syllable, almost as if singing a song. “I win!”

It wasn’t true, but they didn’t need to worry about that just right now. Ignoring it was just too much fun.

@spectreoflasan​ // Zeb Orrelios

Zeb pushed their way through the crowd of overdressed and obviously high partygoers. It would be funny – karabast, it was funny – but it would be funnier if it weren’t so surreal. He recognized plenty of faces in the crowd, but the last time he saw most of them they were back at Rebel headquarters wearing fatigues and anxious looks. If the war really was over, every one of them deserved a celebration; Zeb was the last person who’d deny them that. But Zeb was still having the damndest time shaking that ‘if.’ It had kept them away from the spiked desserts – if anyone decided to make trouble for the fledgling New Republic, they’d need their wits about them – but between Zeb’s general sense of displacement and their unexpectedly complicated conversation with Kallus, they found themself on the way to the bar. Zeb could handle a drink.

As he arrived at the bar, though, he came across someone who clearly could not. Or had chosen not to. Their slurred speech made his ears perk up. Karabast. Zeb intercepted a drink on its way into their hands and threw the bartender a dirty look.

“Right, I’ll say you’ve had enough. I’m cutting you off.”

​

“Wh-hoa! Zeb!” They let out a squeal reminiscent of a little kid (or a broken tea kettle), throwing her hands up in the air in excitement. “Ho-ly Kriff, it’s been so loooooong!” They started to stand from the barstool but stumbled, tripping over the metal and landing in a heap in his arms. She let out an elongated giggle. When was the last time that happened? She reached for the drink in her older brother’s hands, but they moved it away too quickly.

“c’mon, Zeb! I thought you were cool,” they pouted. “Wha-- What? Did yer stupid b-boyfriend put you up to this?” She tried to stand on her own but everything rocked around her. She leaned against Zeb begrudgingly. “Hmph. Dumb Kallus.” 

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​

beskarbuir​ // din djarin

──   THE  REMARK,  A  BREACH  THROUGH  A  VEILED  HUSH,  was welcome yet unexpected.  he appreciates their comment,  how it didn’t come from a mouth of want.   there had been enough words from those seeking to shuck the beskar off his body,  making a flayed revenant out of him.   he thinks to ask about their armor in turn:   who painted it,  who forged it,  was it inherited;  things of the like.   they both know he will voice none of it,  but he still casts them a lilted glance in content. 

by the time they arrive,  the afternoon has deepened,  twin shadows trail their approach toward something a little more than a shed,  an initial shop that surely housed a downward descent  ( a staple of tatooine’s architecture ).   rounding the corner,  they near the garage opening,  with it’s gaping maw of oddities spilling forth.   towards the back seats a mechanic immersed in soldering,  though they instantly sensed the incoming presence.

 ❝  ah  —  now this is a surprise !  ❞  the worker pushes from their current project and rises to their feet,  bouncing with a certain energy.  nerves or just genuine shock at their entry,  din couldn’t tell.   a reflection of the alloy flickers across their eyes and a hand rises to shield from the brilliance,  wincing through a cordial smile all the while.    ❝  what can i do for you,  mandalorians ?   and make it quick !   the shop closes soon.  ❞   he questions that particular remark  —  there were a couple hours until dusk swallowed the land,  and the current season even staved the night’s reach.

din’s reply is curt,  as unrelenting as their steady walk into the workshop,  ❝  we’re not here for business.  ❞ 

the mechanic’s features falter,  darting through curiosity,  contempt,  concern,  then back to curiosity with open palms.    ❝  oh ?   then why would you two be here ?   i imagine you’d be quite busy with the  —  ❞   a north-bound wave of the hand,  back towards the village.   ❝   —  favors the locals asked of you.  ❞

his next approach is considered; either direct questioning or intimidating with an oppressive silence will set off this middleman  ( he assumes )  based on their snappy movements alone.   though a moment is taken to rethink this. perhaps the fellow mandalorian would like to initiate the conversation,  or instigate it.   an interest in witnessing her approach also goads him.   with his torso turning to his companion,  he looks at her  —  gestures made in silence to say,  ‘ will you do the honors ? ’

Sabine studies their counterpart’s features with a vested interest. Just because she cannot see their face does not mean the two don’t share another language, one comprised of the movement between breaths. It’s instinctual, a result of their shared heritage. His foot shifts the slightest degree backwards, and in turn she rocks forward, hand on blaster.

“So, here’s how this goes down. We all keep calm, and you tell us what we want to know--” Two pairs of veiled eyes met, and the Mandalorians tense, readying themselves for confrontation.

“--or--” they propose, now openly brandishing the firearm (one of a twin pair, just as their wielder).

“--you tell us what we want to know and you get a blaster bolt to the heart. Now, I may have a good temper, but I can’t vouch for my partner here.” A smile creeps into her voice, and they hope the humor is well-received. 

A flurry of steps, a dance of fingers on triggers and sand spitting from an attempted runaway. The pulse of energy, bright blue, trailing the space from metal tip to calloused leather, and the drop of a body. (Not dead. Only stunned.) With haste, they drag the body into the shadow of the workshop, then duck down a set of hidden stairs. The two work in an awkward sync, mirroring movements and hesitating with unease. Still, it works. With an ally at each other’s side (and a little bit of good fortune), the bounty was as good as theirs. 

“Kandosii, vod. Let’s go.”

xspectre-1​ // Kanan Jarrus

as she warmed to his embrace he sighed some, holding her close. it had taken sometime for them to connect like this, but having her accept his comfort, having this relationship with her? he hadn’t realized how much he wanted sabine to feel like a part of his family until she finally had– he hadn’t expected to ever fill a father role– but how grateful he was of the opportunity. 

but unfortunately, that wasn’t at the front of his mind. it was hard to ignore the amount of confusion he was still feeling, despite his want to be able to be there for them. “it’s me sabine, it’s me, i’m here for you,” but he needed answers, and her response wasn’t the easiest to process. 

seven years. the thought of that loss of time– it hadn’t helped his jumbled mind. he blinked under his mask, having no words as they pulled his hand closer. until– “we won?” he questioned softly, as if not believing it. it was hard to– knowing how much they had lost. his hand met hers, squeezing it in his own, “kriff– we did?”

“Kanan, I-- I’m not sure how to ex-explain. I,” their breath caught in her throat, something in her lungs hitching and spiking. Pressure mounted in their chest and her hands trembled in anxiety. “Okay, uh,” her voice cracked. She didn’t have enough strength to do this...But the warmth of their father’s hand in her own was something to focus on. Something real.

“I-in my time, the Empire fell a few years ago, and...and something happened in the Force. I don’t--I don’t know how, exactly, but time got messed up. Some people were brought f-forward from the past, and some. Some back from the future. Some people that had died--” They shook their head violently, remembering every nightmare and flashback of--no! That wasn’t him! He was here. This wasn’t a dream. “Kanan, I thought you were... Hera, Zeb, Ezra, we...we thought you were gone.”

@pilotheart // Zay Versio

*

Zay was standing in her corner, her breathing slow, letting people pass by. Being on duty tonight had been useful until now - guests only came to talk when they really needed to, and it was always a quick chat. Every time she was alone Zay scanned the room, her eyes searching for answers. The altered desserts had to be an accident. She didn’t see anyone from her time that could be responsible for it. What she saw, however, made her sigh. “How many drinks did you have, Sabine? You’re acting weird.”

Light flickered from above and around, filtered through the mass of people surrounding Sabine. It played on the walls and across all of the hues of stone and silk, and some of it had even made its way into their veins, carrying the Mandalorian over to a face that filled her stomach with a strange floating feeling. Their friend looked radiant even stone-still and sober, and she noticed their approach. What’s more, she greeted her. Sabine tried not to let a blush creep into her voice, instead shifting their distant gaze to the vaulted ceilings above.

“I—uh. Heh. Hey, Zay.” They glanced down at her toes bashfully. Something in their brain was turning into static, a molasses slowing her thoughts and words. “What d’ya mean? Isn’t this always how I act around a person as pretty as you?”

swishycapes​ // Lando Calrissian

most of the spectres didn’t happen to be particularly fond of him, given the way that he had met them all at the beginning –– perhaps not one of his most flawless plan executions, even if it had worked out just fine, as far as he was concerned. still, it did not stop him from lighting up with a wide grin when he recognized one of the youngest, wondering around the halls of the temple, appearing to enjoy theirself. at least she didn’t seem quite as displeased as kanan had been, all things considered.

“always a pleasure to see you again,” lando beamed at them. “of course. then again, I’d argue most little new republic socializers are my scene –– but yes, I put a rather generous donation together for tonight, courtesy of the mining corporation.” no sense in missing out an opportunity to brag, particularly if they still ad a certain impression about him.

It’s been a few since she last saw Lando. Uh, months? Years? Eh, it wasn’t much of a difference anyways. Here they were now, so the two might as well catch up over a drink. Or five!

“Yeah, how is the mining corp..corpor-- the guild? Or is guild a different thing?”

They felt something hot and bitter flash its way up her throat, then swallowed it back down with a look of confusion. Huh. Wonder if anyone had mixed this many alcohols from this many planets before?

“Lamdo, did you hear,” they slurred out in a loud imitation of a whisper, “that someone mixed up the ingredients in the desserts?” They offered him a delicate-looking pastry from a nearby table. “You like to gamble, right?” She muffled a grin for mock seriosity. Serios-- seriousness? Yeah, that was the one.

Their senses felt so dull yet so full of fire, and she couldn’t help but s m i l e at the heat running through her veins. They could take on the world if it was asked of them. She didn’t need the armor or the darksaber or anything else!! She was at the top of the world, swirling voices gilding themselves into a crown, flashing lights a mantle of pride. She couldn’t tell what was so funny about the party (only that it was!), and so laughter escaped from them like the bubbles in her latest beverage. They drifted through the temple, looking up at the carved stone in awe (...when she wasn’t looking down the end of a bottle.)

“The Jedi may have been kinda stuffy, but boy do they know architecture, huh?,” she sighed to the person closest, downing another shot in the process.

@chaotickylia​

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​ 

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​ 

skywalkerxlegacy​ // Luke Skywalker

The  human  talking  to  Mando  was  not  someone  that  Luke  was  familiar  with.  His  head  is  cloudy,  his  thought  in  a  haze.  One  hand  holds  the  brownie  in  his  hand  and  the  other  holds  a  glass  of  some  bubbly  liquid.  He  doesn’t  think  it’s  champagne,  as  it  looked  nothing  like  the  glass  he’d  had  with  Leia  earlier.  It’s  colored  and  he  takes  a  sip.  It’s  surprisingly  smooth  down  his  throat.  “  Who  are  you?  “  he  questioned,  looking  at  the  colored  hair.  His  brows  are  raised.  He  wouldn’t  normally  be  so  blunt,  but  he’s  curious  about  who  his  friend  is  spending  time  with.  It  shouldn’t  matter,  really,  but  it  does.  “  I’m  Luke.  “  

@call-me-spectre-five​ 

Kriff, she was so glad that their friends had dragged her to this ridiculous party. It seemed so uptight and stuffy at the time, but now? Now she was surrounded by drinks and having the time of her life! It was only a few minutes after eating one of the brightly-colored desserts on display that Sabine noticed the man she had only heard rumors about, approaching them with a pointed gaze. A giggle escaped her lips at the question-- of course she knew who he was!

“‘m Sabine! Sabine Wren. Pleasure to--” hiccup “-- to meet you, Luke.” 

They caught a server droid passing by and grabbed two drinks off the tray, offering one to the man in front of her. 

“I fucking love your...” they paused, trying to form the words on her tongue (it felt so loose. that was weird, right?) “I love your outfit!”

@lcstpadawan​ // Cal Kestis

mini plot starter for @call-me-spectre-five -

okay, so this isn’t ideal. it actually really kind of sucks, if cal’s honest. but - but, okay, he’s definitely faced worse. he can definitely deal with this. he’d spent years working through scrap piles and ruined ships and managed to find something useful, he can do it again. besides, he did all that without bd1 - he’s got the droid’s company and help now. they should be fine.

“hey - are you good with mechanics?” he asks vaguely as he kneels down at a heap of scrap from their now blown up ship, glancing over at his company. he knows bits and pieces about mandalorians, knows they love their weapons but he’s not sure how used to working with scrap and ruined equipment they are. hopefully if he can find enough stuff for them to work with, the two of them will be able to make something decent out of it. “i mean - i’m not half-bad, and this little guy here is a genius, but i’m pretty sure we’re gonna have to get.. kind of creative to get out of this.”

Fuck, it never got old. The running and hiding, the ducking from shrapnel and gritting teeth through the ringing in your ears. Sabine’s partner on this mission was more calm than she felt, spoke with more clarity than they ever could. How could he hold his breath more steady? Shit, they had seen explosions, had caused them for years, but it was something else entirely to be the victim of one. Something else that made her hands taut, made their armor feel heavier on the chest. No ship. No way to tell for sure who the enemies here were. And no backup. 

It’s okay, Sabine. You can handle this. You’ve dealt with worse odds before.

There was a task at hand, an investigation to pursue, and that was something to focus on. Something to control. Steady the breathing. Feel the tips of your fingers, count the scratches on your armor. Smile (even if it doesn’t feel quite right), and let it drip into your voice, another mask behind the visor.

“Creative? I can do creative.”

And with that, they got to work. The two pulled from scraps and fragments of ruined engines and broken motivators, making light their labor. Sabine could specialize in mechanics when they felt like it, but damn did this guy and his droid understand how to work with the least. It was impressive. 

“Osi’kyr! Cal, look at this. I think I found something.”

@generalspectre​ // Hera Syndulla

The  thought  of  having  Sabine  under  their  roof  for  any  amount  of  time  was  enough  to  make  Hera  smile.  “  Don’t  worry,  he’ll  be  just  as  happy  to  see  you  tomorrow.  “  The  pilot  was  sure  that  her  child  had  so  much  going  on.  She  knew  that  the  Mandalorian  felt  very  deeply,  especially  with  the  death  of  Ezra.  “  You  know  you  always  have  a  home  here.  “  they  replied,  smiling  down  at  the  loth  cat  as  she  answered.  “  I  don’t  know  how  Chopwill  feel  about  you  though.  “  she  informed  the  cat,  watching  the  cat  nip  at  their  heels.  “  We’ll  just  have  to  be  careful.  “  Dark  brows  raise  as  they  recognize  the  pale  pink  drink  in  their  hands.  Her  own  move  to  her  hips  and  she  grins,  “  I  don’t  remember  the  last  time  I  had  an  adult  drink.  “  the  emphasis  on  adult  is  intentional.  They  step  forward,  wrapping  one  arm  around  their  shoulders,  the  cold  armor  pressing  against  her  sleeves.  “  Now  we  just  need  to  get  Zeb  back  here.  “  the  murmured,  leading  the  pair  up  the  ramp.  They  could  never  fault  their  friend  for  being  happy  with  their  people,  but  she  still  missed  him.  

Sabine’s smile broke a little at the mention of Zeb’s name. Although glad to hear from Kallus that he was doing well, it still stung a little, knowing the reunion was incomplete. Still, the Mandalorian had one of their parents here, had their little brother, Jacen (they even had Chopper), and that was enough for now.

Sabine handed Hera the drink and followed the twi’lek into the cabin of the ship. As soon as she stepped inside, the little astromech raced to greet her, chittering away. They lowered themself to his level, raising one hand to the little droid’s dome in affection.

“Okay, okay, Chop! Yeah, I missed you too, buddy.” They glanced over at Blueberry, who stood behind Hera with raised ears and bristled tail. “No, you will not, Chopper. Don’t joke about that.” Sabine met their cat’s eyes, holding his gaze. “You two play nice. And don’t you wake Jacen.”

They turned with a slight sigh, wondering how long it would take for either to pick a fight. Hera stood a few feet away, watching with amusement and crossed arms.

“I think you have a point about these guys. We’ll have to keep an eye on them. But hopefully Jacen will be glad to meet Blue.”

They followed Hera through the familiar passages of the ship until both were seated across from each other, their bags stowed messily on the floor. Sabine sighed, stretching out, reaching for a glass. Finally, she could relax.

@spectrcsix​ // Ezra Bridger

closed starter for @call-me-spectre-five -

“please don’t hit me. or shoot me. or throw something at me!” ezra calls out as he approaches, gritting his teeth. he fully expects sabine to do at least one of those things after the choices he made - not that she thinks she wouldn’t have understood, but that doesn’t mean it was necessarily an easy decision for everyone to have accepted. he gets that. he does.

he stands by it, though, just like he knows kanan stood by his choice despite the cost.

he holds his hands up in an attempt to show he’s not here for a fight, his trademark guilty-embarrassed-bashful sort of smile on his face. not that ezra expects that to be enough to save his ass from sabine’s wrath, but he has to try. right? “would it help to know you’re like - the second person i’ve come to see? so pretty high on the list. that counts for something, right?

Sabine had heard rumors about Ezra since almost right after he disappeared. Where to search wild space, who knew anything, what to do in the face of her loss. After one lie too many, Sabine had closed themself off, prompting weeks of solitude and grief. She had promised herself then that she wouldn’t respond to another false informant, but this, this felt...different. They couldn’t explain it, only that it was a pull in her gut leading to the point of the rendezvous. And…they actually couldn’t believe the figure standing before her.

“Ezra?” They asked, voice weighty with emotion. No, this had to be a trick. It had been a long time (too long) and she couldn’t be lucky enough to win this one. If it was Ezra, what had she done to deserve him back? Why now? But he kept talking and moving and breathing and being so Ezra.

“Ezra! Fuck!” They dropped everything and leapt into him, nearly tackling him to the ground. He was taller than them now, but all she could do was throw her arms around his frame, pull him close. They exhaled into his side, feeling for the first time in months a genuine sense of hope. Kanan was back, and now, so was Ezra. Her family was back, and there was nothing else she needed in this moment. And then, despite his warnings, she gave him a light smack on the back of the head. Nothing that would hurt, but something reminiscent of times when they could show affection through sparring (both verbal and physical). “Copaani mirshmure’cye, vod’ika? Where the hell have you been?”

@naboospage​ // Sache

Saché was home on Naboo when her commlink chimed. She had a few days off, and every time it happened she’d leave the base to go back on her homeworld. It felt good, to be able to go outside again. It was dark and the holoprojector was on. She was watching a Senate session, just like when the Old Republic was still going strong. A Senate session in which a dead Queen was giving a speech. Eyes frowned, Saché focused on the holo - trying to know whether this was the Padme she knew or not. She’d been doing it for three years. And still didn’t believe in the eventuality of her being back. When her comm chimed though, another friend reappeared in her life, chasing her thoughts away. The voice in the comm made her smile, filling her with relief - Sabine. If the Mandalorian contacted her, it meant they were feeling better. Saché knew it, having been in the same position twenty-six years ago when Padme died and the Republic fell. “Come home on Naboo,” Saché sent back with coordinates just in case. A day later Sabine was at her door, and she welcomed them with open arms, pulling them in a hug. “Sabine,” she greeted. “It’s good to see you, kid”

“Sache!” They accepted the hug, only a little startled about the contact. They had forgotten that her old friend was the hugging type, but it wasn’t a bad surprise by any means. When they broke away, Sabine surveyed her, checking for signs of worry and stress. The New Republic was still in its infancy, and they could only imagine the kind of anxiety that rebuilding government from the ashes of the Empire could evoke. It had to be a difficult job, but one she knew Sache well prepared for. Her main concern was that their friend would work too much, take too much upon her shoulders.

“It’s good to see you too! And Naboo.” Kriff, this planet was gorgeous. The rolling plains that delved into lakes, the green pastures filled with living, growing things. Flowers so small and delicate, yet towers and castles so grand. “I had almost forgotten how beautiful your home was. Tell me, do you ever find a break from work to just...admire it all?” They hoped not to sound judgmental or inquisitive, but just curious. 

@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.”

@cptfulcrum​ // Alexsandr Kallus

As  much  as  this  would  have  shocked  his  former  self,  Kallus  genuinely  cared  about  each  of  the  Spectres.  He  knew  his  friendship  with  Zeb  helped  with  that.  He  cared  about  the  Lasat,  so  of  course  he  would  care  for  Zeb’s  family.  It  wasn’t  all  that  however.  They  hadn’t  treated  him  horribly  after  his  defection,  something  that  he  still  thought  he  deserved.  They  were  dedicated  rebels,  accomplished  strategists,  caring  people.  He  was  lucky  to  have  friends  like  them,  especially  now,  when  everything  felt  like  it  was  falling  apart.  He  knew  that  Sabine  could  relate  to  that.  They  all  could  now.  

He  was  being  protective.  It  wasn’t  necessary,  not  with  Sabine.  They  cared  for  Zeb  as  much  as  he  did  if  not  more.  It  was  an  interesting  relationship,  theirs  was.  Maybe  it  was  because  he’s  never  had  anything  like  that  before.  “  I’m  sorry.  “  he  expels  a  breath,  focusing  in  on  the  way  they  chipped  the  dirt  off  of  their  armor.  “  I  know  you  mean  well.  Zeb  is  lucky  to  have  such  caring  friends.  I  just….  “  he  trailed  off,  running  a  hand  through  his  beard.  Having  friends  was  sometimes  much  harder  than  not  having  them.  “  We  were  happy  on  Lira  San.  “  he  admitted,  quieter  than  before.  “  We  were  happy.  “  It  felt  like  so  long  ago,  before  they  had  heard  of  Ezra’s  death  and  before  he  had  decided  to  leave.  It  felt  like  a  long  time  ago,  but  it  hadn’t  been  a  great  length  of  time.

“  I  just  want  him  to  continue  to  be  happy.  “  Kallus  confided,  sucking  in  another  breath.  It  was  only  tactful  to  ignore  the  tears  that  Sabine  was  letting  out,  just  as  she  was  ignoring  the  ones  threatening  to  fall  from  his  eyes.  He  hadn’t  truly  cried  in  a  long  time.  He  started  towards  his  back,  quietly.  He  thought  about  Sabine’s  words.  They  were  both  Imperial  defectors,  though  she  was  much  better  than  he.  It  took  him  almost  two  decades  to  figure  out  what  they  had  before  they  even  graduated  the  Academy.  “  I  wouldn’t  go  comparing  yourself  to  the  likes  of  me.  “  he  said,  hoping  his  tone  sounded  as  light  as  he  wanted  it  to.  His  eyes  met  theirs  and  he  nodded.  That  was  one  thing  they  could  agree  on  at  least.  “  Would  it  be  quite  childish  of  me  to  suggest  a  race?  “  he  grinned,  already  mounting  his  speeder,  hoping  that  maybe  they  could  ignore  the  despair  they  both  felt  for  just  a  bit.  

As  he  rode  through  the  desert  his  hair  whipped  around  him.  He  should  have  tied  it  up  before  starting  this  journey.  It  had  grown  much  longer.  The  Empire  would  never  have  stood  for  that.  It  made  him  grin  to  himself  at  the  thought.  The  more  he  changed,  the  more  he  rebelled  against  what  the  Empire  instilled  in  him,  the  more  he  felt  like  he  was  finally  becoming  who  he  meant  to  be.  

“It would only be childish if you lost!” Sabine shouted as they mounted the speeder bike, already racing over the terrain with a wide smile. The wind did nothing for the silent tears hidden beneath her visor. Fuck. She hated crying, but found herself doing it so much lately...Instead, they redirected attention to the passing foliage, the colors that blended and swirled around her. 

Kallus was no stranger to a speeder, it was obvious, but she was sure she had more practical experience. He might have studied at the Academy, but Sabine had been riding since they were a child, since the occupation of the Empire on Mandalore. How he saw in that nest of hair, they couldn’t imagine, but somehow he actually caught an edge on her, turned a corner with more agility and speed than they thought possible.

“Oh, no you don’t!”

They took a risk, cutting through the underbrush, hoping it would help close the gap, but--

“Second place? Dank farrik, Kallus. I’ve got to hand it to you, you know your way around a speeder bike, old man.” They taunted with a sly upturn of the lip. “C’mon, first round’s on me.”

@cravked​ // Trilla Suduri

given that trilla had not anticipated that the other was being truthful to begin with, she was moderately surprised when they launched into a description about a brother that apparently was real, given that she could not sense any kind of dishonesty in what they were saying. lips pursed together in a thin line, but she did actually listen to the other despite the air of indifference that she still managed to carry. it was better to pay attention, just in case there was anything useful there. it was something she could relate to.

“perhaps you should consider implementing a little more of your brother’s behavior, and you wouldn’t end up stranded with a piece of junk.” her tone was still cool, though it was no longer sharp around the edges. her face gave away nothing about the thoughts inside of her mind. she didn’t know anything about the mandalorian culture beyond the armor and history of violence despite the neutral stance during the clone wars, certainly didn’t understand the mando’a language, but for the most part, she could put together a general idea of what sabine was saying based on the context clues of their sentences. 

it didn’t take much longer for the pair to reach her own vehicle. technically, it was not hers, a little force persuasion with its proper owner allowing her to utilize it while she was on the surface of this planet. trilla planned on returning it, so she saw no harm in her actions. “well, i don’t have a sense of humor.” she replied with tight lips, swinging a leg over the speeder. she pulled her cloak around her, making sure her weapon couldn’t be grabbed easily. “just no apparent desire to leave you out here to die, lucky for you. hop on.”

“You’re too kind to me. Really,” they said with an air of sarcasm, but not without an inkling of truth. It was nice of Trilla to offer help of her own accord, unprompted. Tension still hung in the air between them, but it was lessening with each passing second. Someone that wanted to harm the Mandalorian clearly wouldn’t have gone out of their way to offer this much help-- it would be much simpler to start a fight, or to leave her for dead. 

Swinging a leg over the back of the speeder bike, Sabine wondered if they should hold on to the woman as they traversed the forested plains of a near-empty planet. Better not, they decided. Things were already weird, and there was no need to heighten that state of unease.

The vegetation passed by in a blur and Sabine’s heart dropped to her stomach-- it was a welcome feeling, the sensation of winding through thicket and brush. This acquaintance, Trilla, was a good driver, too. With ease she wound through the plant life that towered above them, navigating without cause for alarm. Sabine allowed themself to wonder-- did she know the area well? Was she just a talented pilot? Or was her skill aided by the Force? Whatever it was, she made a long walk into a quick ride, and a seamless one at that.

“You drive well, Trilla. You ever enter any races?” Not the most eloquent of compliments, but hey, it was a conversation topic. The cantina stood before them as they disembarked. The outside walls were covered with layers of dust and weathering, but hey. Any place with food and drink was a good place. Well, almost any place. “You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to.” They held a hand before Trilla, ushering her in. “After you.”