Ft. Their Survivor's Guilt - Blog Posts

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.