@cravked​ // Trilla Suduri

@cptfulcrum​ // Alexsandr Kallus

It  was  times  like  this  where  Kallus  thought  about  how  young  Sabine  and  Ezra  had  been  when  the  war  had  started.  They  were  not  much  older  than  children,  yet  to  the  enemy  they  had  been  heinous  rebels.  No  remorse  for  even  an  orphan  like  Ezra,  who  had  learned  to  survive.  He  had  chased  them  like  dogs.  As  they  spoke  to  him  he  sighed.  He  knew  all  about  that.  The  Empire  had  instilled  so  many  beliefs  in  him  and  it  had  taken  two  times  as  much  work  for  him  to  realize  that  the  brainwashing  was  just  that.  He  was  a  cog  in  the  machine,  no  one  special.  There  was  so  much  he  could  actually  do.  It  was  liberating  when  he  had  finally  started  asking  questions,  gaining  an  awareness.  The  cloud  had  been  lifted.  It  sounded  similar  for  his  Mandalorian  friend.  “  You  are  right  of  course…..  Not  everyone  has  the  same  idea  of  peace.  “  his  peace  had  been  sitting  on  his  porch  with  Zeb,  actually  able  to  take  a  breath  of  fresh  air.  A  home  that  was  his.  What  was  his  peace  now?  

It  was  easy  for  him  to  notice  how  Sabine  was  able  to  turn  things  back  to  him  and  how  poorly  he  was  doing.  But  he  didn’t  want  to  think  about  that  now,  Zeb  back  on  Lira  San,  abandoned  by  Kallus  to  go  on  some  self  serving  mission  to  capture  Thrawn,  only  stopping  because  he  was  worried  about  his  friends.  His  jaw  clenched  and  he  looked  away  again.  He  couldn’t  explain  this,  not  to  anyone.  “  Zeb’s  been  fighting  a  long  time.  Longer  than  many  of  us.  I  don’t…..  I  can’t  pull  him  back  in.  He  deserves  peace  more  than  anyone  I  know.  “  his  tone  is  guarded  now  and  when  he  looks  back,  his  eyes  are  colder.  No  one  would  agree  with  him  more  than  the  Ghost  Crew,  but  he  needed  to  make  his  intentions  clear.  Kallus  knew  that  Zeb  could  and  would  make  his  own  choice  if  need  be,  but  he  didn’t  want  it  to  come  to  that  point.  

He  shouldn’t  be  so  tense  with  Sabine.  The  Ghost  Crew  had  changed  his  life,  gave  him  something  to  actually  make  it  worth  while.  What  would  he  be  without  them?  Still,  Garazeb  made  him  question  everything  to  begin  with,  called  him  friend  when  he  deserved  anything  but.  He  would  protect  the  Lasat  with  all  he  had.  “  A  drink  sounds  nice.  “  he  agreed,  eyeing  them.  “  I  don’t  mean  to  be….  Harsh.  I  just  don’t  want  to  pull  him  back  into  this.  Not  unless  he  really  wants  to.  I  just  want  him  to  be  happy,  Sabine.  You  must  understand  that.  “  He  pulled  his  jacket  closer  to  him,  “  Do  you  have  a  cantina  in  mind?  “  

Tension permeated the air as her friend tightened his jaw. Sabine noticed the turning in his eyes, the shift from comfort to pain. They realized in that instant that their advice may have been too critical, could have come off as blaming this man for caring too much. That’s the last thing she wanted to convey. She knew how much Kallus meant to Zeb. How much they both meant to each other.

“Kallus, I think I...might not have explained myself well.” They took a breath, chose their words with more caution this time, careful not to seem judgmental. “I’m not blaming you, my friend,” they said with hesitancy as they reached down to wipe a smudge of dirt off the pigment of her armor. It needed a repainting soon, they noted.

“I understand how much you care for Zeb. For-- Well, for all of us.” They held his gaze, hoping to show him how much she cared too. “I just worry, is all. Well, I. And, I know-- I know we’ve been through...similar experiences.” They gritted their teeth through a smile and nodded. “I really don’t blame you one bit, Kallus. I just want you to be careful. For Zeb.” For all of us. They wiped the corner of their eye quickly, ignoring the moisture that had formed there. They’d both been through so much. This war had cost them both so much.

“C’mon, the Twisted Mynock Cantina is just a couple of klicks from here. Besides, I’ve gotta return this speeder bike to some old smuggler by sundown.”

As the two walked to where their bikes were parked, Sabine reached up, slowly, and placed their hand on Kallus’s shoulder. They had more in common than either of them cared to admit.

“I could really use that drink right about now.” 

chaotickylia​ // Kylia Horne

Laughter fills the air around them. Crackling to life and adding electricity to the air and she finds the colors to be so vibrant. Colors? Since when was she able to see colors and the electricity in the air? She draws a breath, taking the other’s hand, getting up to her feet with a small laugh that leaves her once more. The colors swim around her, wrapping her up and filling her like a bubble ready to burst. She’s curious of this feeling. The way the air tastes as it moves with them. “Let’s do it!” Kylia laughs again, keeping their hands together as fear settles in the back of her mind of being separated from her newly found friend. She wants to stay with her. Doesn’t want to be alone. That fear wraps around her more like a monster in the dark, lurking in the shadows. “I’m Kylia!” She echoes the greeting as she follows behind them, her head spinning with the crows of people they’re passing. “Who are we looking for again?”

.

They ran, unsure of the path before her, but confident that it was the right way. The air was practically teeming with excitement, with life, and she wondered how anyone could be sad in a place as magical as this. Their newfound friend trailed her paces, and the Mandalorian was grateful for the company! 

“Kylia! That name is so pretty. A pretty name for my pretty friend!”

Another round of laughter boiled up from their toes, passed through chest and neck and mouth. It was uncontrollable, the laughter, but she didn’t mind! How could they, when they were surrounded by all these new friends? There was a question hanging in the air, but Sabine couldn’t focus on the answer. Of course she drew a blank; there was a race to finish! Maybe if they went a little faster, they could reach the clouds--

The two found themselves at last at a near-empty balcony, lit only by the patchwork of constellations above. Sabine doubled over, too tired to laugh. This was exhilarating! Was this freedom? 

“Ha! Look at the stars, Kylia. They’re dancing.”

generally-scheming​ // Armitage Hux

Hux peered down his nose at his glass, following the proper steps of savoring a new wine as he considered her comment about destruction. They must know about Starkiller, then. Good. Let her spill more and more of her intel in the guise of gloating. The comment about Rens wrinkled his nose, a gesture he hid behind sniffing his wine. And if the absurd pretense of a date meant they were suggesting anything other than professional history, Hux studiously ignored the implication.  “The Knights of Ren are an entire group which I’ve had the misfortune of associating with. You’ll need to be more specific.”  And in doing so, show exactly which cards were in their hand.

Her flirtatious behavior set him on edge.   (And that was exactly the point, wasn’t it?)   He had no doubt the individual across the table would sooner kill him than kiss him, and that, at least, was mutual. Every suggestive whisper or raised eyebrow was met with a narrow-eyed glare or a tightening of his well-practiced emotionless mask. But the mention of his father Brendol cracked the facade, a flash of raw fury lighting up his eyes. Hux smothered the fire and considered his options.

“To disappointing our parents,”  he answered instead, raising his glass to meet theirs. Weighing his words carefully — he had selected this bistro for its acceptance of an Imperially-aligned clientele — he met her gaze with singular intensity.  “Such a decorated figure in his field, my father. I can only imagine how pleased the New Republic would be if anything were to happen to him.”

.

There it was, the flash of emotion behind a facade of indifference. For just a second, this man let go of the carefully crafted mask. Then he quickened back to the haven of professionalism and dug at them, asking her to share what they knew of the Rens. Sabine understood the game. And she knew that he did, too. Perhaps better than anyone they’d had the pleasure of dining with of late. Information could be traded and turned like pawns in a game of chess. And it simply wouldn’t do to lay their playbook out for him to read at his lesiure.

“No, I don’t think I will. You seem like a man who just loves a mystery, Armitage. Besides, a girl’s gotta have their secrets.”

Instead, they zeroed in on his discomfort (anger? hatred, perhaps?) with her casual aside about Brendol. So, they’d guessed right. His name was like a spear, offering a chink in the armor of apathy. She took the gateway with greed, digging a foothold in the injury.

“Oya.” They took a sip of the wine. It would have been pleasant if it didn’t carry so much baggage. But, there wasn’t time for that. The game was in session, and it was Sabine’s turn to move. “I won’t disagree with you on that front. He is quite distinguished and respected, isn’t he? I can only imagine how hard it was for you to grow up in the shadow of such a dignified man. But we’re not here to talk about him, Hux.” They made sure to address him this time by the name shared with his father before echoing his words back at him, “If anything were to happen to him...how would you feel?”

for   @beskarbuir and @finitefm​  // din djarin and tarre vizsla

──   MANDALORE,  YOUR  SCENERY  IS  LIKE  FAMINE.   mandalore,  the most stagnated,  ravaged part of it,  is too lucid for him.   the landscape straddles between home and desolation,  thriving in that liminal space;  that is to say,  it welcomes him without communion.  but that is alright,  for his learnings were true.   this is a cursed planet,  far past death and onto lying in wait.   feverish and weak.   imperials looming over and gorging on the fruit of their lands,  gloating as its acidic juice drips into the corpse’s eyes.   mandalore bares it’s clenched teeth and hungers,  too.  for ichor,  for people,  for love.

din will not be the one to satiate it.   the love he offers is for his people beyond this soured heart,  reared in their ways in places far from here.   they are a nomadic people steeped in an idea.   they are more than mandalore alone.   still,  he stood close to his companion in these past days,  keeping an eye on their surroundings but mostly on them.  it almost seemed like she would choke on the prospect of coming here,  of walking into the maw of their once home.   since their arrival,  her grief was mute;  hemorrhage kept internal.   he hopes they know that if they dotter,  he will bear their weight. 

though there,  in the distance,  rises a haunting:  arriving in beskar adorned in gilded fractures, as if shattered and rebuilt.   his steps nearly stop there,  hand so willing to pull sabine back for her safety.   to din,  they are an unknown beauty and terror looming forth   ─   and though the feeling is transient,  he dallies the tiniest bit slower than sabine when she perseveres in the face of a phantom.   then,  she drops to her knee as if the very sight of them is sacrosanct,  bowing their head in reverence.   ‘ tarre vizsla ’ ,  they had said,  and all besides the clan name and shriek hawk garners no recognition. 

his next move is less calculated.   there is a bow of his head,  hand to the heart while the other still grips his spear like a walking stick.   a commingled greeting less pronounced as sabine’s,  but respectful to a title that eludes him.   ❝  su cuy’gar.  ❞  a fraction of an accent lilts his words,  obvious in comparison between him and them,  but there is no shame in it.   he lifts his head and glances to his companion,  then back,    ❝  as had we.  ❞   concern edges his voice,  ❝  how long have you been here ?  ❞   this is a dead land.  there will be no survival here.

the   reactions   tarre   has   faced   from   their   people   have   been   many,   in   this   time.   they   cannot   say   that   the   awe   is   their   least   favorite,   for   they   have   felt   the   brunt   outraged   violence   at   assumed   deception.   the   PAIN   that   lay   beneath   those   interactions   bests   the   creeping   discomfort   of   respect   for   a   mythos   larger   than   their   life.   they   were   mand’alor   in   their   time,   after   all   –   they   know   the   INTENSITY   of   mandalorian   devotion.   but   they   have   only   made   martyrs.   to   BE   one   ?   it   is   something   entirely   different.  

when   she   kneels,   they   are   surprised   by   the   instinct   to   kneel   as   well,   to   find   the   level   of   her   eyes   beneath   her   colorful   helmet   and   assure   her   that   deference   is   largely   unnecessary.   but   this   is   not   a   force   call,   only   human   LONGING,   and   they   have   spent   years   attempting   to   calm   their   gut   punches   of   emotion.   they   mirror   her   companion   instead,   a   hand   raised   to   their   heart.   these   two   are   sharply   different   in   more   than   their   armor.   their   knowledge   of   HISTORY,   they   can   assume,   yet   the   importance   lies   in   the   force.   she   is   fireworks.   he   is   something   more   unobtrusive.   they   find   both   intriguing   on   a   level   that   may   speak   only   to   their   own   desire   for   new   connection   with   their   people.

there   are   more   pressing   matters   than   any   slowly   sharpening   edge   of   desperation,   however.   their   voice   is   smooth   as   mandalore’s   hot   winds   as   they   reply,   ❛   i   am   them.   please,   RISE   –   i   am   no   mand’alor   in   this   time.   ❜   they   would   insist   that   ALL   mandalorians   are   clan   enough   to   do   away   with   such   formalities,   if   they   had   not   begun   to   grasp   that   these   descendants   of   theirs   are   not   nearly   so   united.   ❛   i   am   glad   to   find   others.   what   is   left   of   history   is   something   worth   revisiting,   i   believe.   ❜

the   bittersweetness   of   it   all   is   beginning   to   burn.   they   tuck   the   feeling   underneath   their   tongue   and   let   it   rest   there,   tangled   up   in   the   core   of   them.   ❛   only   briefly.   there   is   better   accommodation   not   too   far   from   here.   i   wanted   to   see   what   this   became.   ❜   their   words   come   freely,   yet   remain   careful   with   that   bittersweet,   that   knot   of   feeling.   their   head   tilts   slightly   as   they   look   back   to   the   ruins.   ❛   this   is   a   place   of   BLOOD.   it   is   good   that   it   is   no   home.   ❜   it   had   been   theirs,   once,   and   they   suppose   that   that   is   the   tragedy   of   it.   this   loss   will   not   leave   them.

So, it was them, Mand’alor be’ruyot. How or why the leader had returned during their peoples’ most desolate hour was far beyond her understanding. Despite years spent in the company of Jedi, this was perhaps the most impossible thing she’d ever witnessed. Tongue heavy, Sabine found that they had no words-- no amount of training could have ever prepared her for this. Still, at their ancestor’s command, she rose, glancing over at their brother-in-arms.

The younger Mandalorian knew that their companion was not as versed in the history of their people-- which was not something she faulted them for. It just was, a product of circumstance. They examined him-- a shared language of silence only the two knew, unreliant on the visages hidden beneath beskar. This was the nature of their friendship: an understanding that silence had its own place in the conversations they held. So much was shared with so little sound. Despite the unease and confusion that now plagued them both, Sabine understood.

Attention turned, shifting back to the words spoken by one who held so many stories from an age lifetimes before her own. Guilt seized their breath once again. This place was no home, not for anyone. Nor had it been for years, and there were few more to blame than she. Sabine felt their voice waver and crack in response to the bitterness of the haastal.

“No. It is not.” So many skeletons haunted this wasteland once called prosperous, once called beloved. “It belongs now only to the mercy of the Ka’ra above.”

Noticing how uncomfortable the formalities had made their ancestor, Sabine extended an unsteady arm, anticipation of the traditional salute for Mando’ade.

“I am Sabine of Clan Wren and House Vizsla.” There was a moment of pause, consideration. Her companion could share their name if he wanted. It was optional, as most words between the two were. “It is an honor to share your name. Gedet’ye, what may I call you if not ner Mand’alor?”

They couldn’t help but hope her friend wasn’t too lost right now. She gave them a glance as if to reassure him that she’d explain later.

l  closed starter  l  @inspiringgreatness​

Sabine’s fingers trembled with the ship’s communication system, struggling to find the right frequency for their old friend. The last thing she wanted to do was bother such an important and busy figure with something as trivial as this, but they didn’t know who else to turn to. Finally, the hum of static softened into a dull purr, and she sat down with a sigh. The light on the holo camera blinked blue to let them know it had begun recording.

“H-hey. Hey, Ahsoka. It’s Sabine.”

Idiot. As if she couldn’t already tell. 

“Look, I really don’t want to bother you, and you don’t have to answer this message. But, I--” they sighed, hugging her knees to their chest.

“I just didn’t really know who else to talk to, I guess? I mean, I just don’t feel ready to talk to Hera or Kanan, or...well, anyone, about it.” 

(Or about anything, really.)

“ Look, I’ve just been thinking about Ezra a lot lately, and, I don’t know, I thought maybe you had too, and, maybe we could talk about it together? O-or not. That’s okay, too.”

Sabine paused, breath catching in her throat and stomach swelling with regret. Ahsoka didn’t need to be concerned with this. She was a Jedi once, and she had probably dealt with scenarios worse than this in the Clone Wars. What was Sabine even doing?

“On second thought, I’m sorry. I-I don’t mean to. To, uh. To take up your time.  you’re probably really busy. I really hope you’re doing well. Stay safe.”

Sabine hastily reached forward and switched the channel off then stifled the racking sob clawing its way up her throat. 

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.

galaxywon​ // Alexsandr Kallus

Sabine  had  been  Imperial,  even  though  their  time  had  ended  much  before  his  own.  They  knew  what  it  felt  like  to  be  forced  to  adhere  to  something  that  took    away  any  case  of  individuality.  But  she  didn’t  know  what  it  felt  like  to  believe  it  with  your  whole  being.  He  would  have  died  for  The  Empire,  almost  had  on  multiple  occasions.  He  thought  his  life  was  worth  something  with  them,  didn’t  know  true  value  until  he  had  been  challenged  to  question  things.  Being  an  Imperial  had  been  his  entire  life.  It  was  still  his  deepest  shame.  He  could  tell  by  the  way  they  analyzed  the  images  that  they  understood  what  it  meant.  “  I  fear  if  I  don’t  do  it  soon,  I  never  will.  “  he  admitted,  turning  away  from  them  to  try  to  hide  some  of  the  emotions  passing  through  his  face.  

“  I  can  sit  with  you  while  you  draw  if  you’d  like.  “  It  was  more  for  him  than  it  was  for  Sabine,  of  course.  He  wasn’t  sure  he  could  sit  around  and  wait  for  her  to  be  done.  “  I  have  some  mission  reports  I  could  fill  out.  “  He  knew  without  trying  that  he  wouldn’t  get  a  thing  done  while  he  was  waiting  for  them,  but  he  could  pretend.  “  Just…..  Don’t  tell  Garazeb  about  this.  Please.  “  

.

“ I understand.” She replied, though they both knew she couldn’t fully comprehend all he was feeling. Still, they felt the weight that sat on his shoulders. They understood its significance. None of the Spectres blamed Kallus for what he’d done, but Sabine knew that hearing something and believing it were two different things. Gods, did they know that...

“Please, make yourself at home,” she nodded, motioning to the cluttered interior of the ship. Sure, the cabin was a bit of a mess, but they got the feeling her friend wouldn’t mind. Well...maybe he’d mind a little, but the Ghost crew had always been so lovably chaotic. At their’s friend’s next request, though, her smile weakened, and they nodded solemnly.

“Speaking of Zeb,” they asked, already opening the digital art application on her datapad, “can I ask how you two are? You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” they added with a rush, careful to give him the chance to say no if he wanted. “I just know that with the whole time skip shit, everything’s been so...different.” A pause, as she rested stylus on screen. “Have you talked to them since?”

cravked​ // Trilla Suduri

it did not surprise them when the other offered no response to her words, nor did it bother her. trilla did not have particularly strong feelings about the hapan either way, she would not have been here in the first place if it weren’t for cal, or what they needed for the younglings. she didn’t entirely hate the excuse to get to dress up a bit, either. it wasn’t often that they had one.

“it’s not an insult,” a wry smile paired with the words. it was hard for trilla to relate to the idea of wanting to stick out when she would have been happy to disappear into the crowd without recognition. “no, it’s not my type of function. i’m here with a…” they paused slightly. “a friend. we’re meeting someone else for some work.” no need to disclose anything of her association with the jedi.

.

A pause passed through Trilla’s voice at the mention of a friend, and Sabine’s eyebrow gave the slightest raise. She elected to ignore the other’s hesitation, knowing that they’d share if they wanted to. If not, well, then it really wasn’t any of Sabine’s business.

“That makes more sense. After the disaster of the last event like this...I think it’s fair to be a little on edge.” They nodded and raised the drink to her lips, the soft carbonation offering her a short repose from conversation. Beskar gleamed before the two of them, and the reminder of mission tugged at her gut. “Suppose I’m here on business, too.” 

cravked​ // trilla suduri

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

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

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

.

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

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

Then, at the half-insult--

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

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

❛ can i come with you ? ❜ from din

Sabine enjoys this friend’s company as much she enjoys spending time with any of the Spectres (as much as she had enjoyed spending time with Tristan and Ezra). To hear him ask for her companionship with such gentility...The question brought a grin to their unmasked face.

“Of course. The more the merrier.”