@cptfulcrum​ // Alexsandr Kallus

cravked​ // Trilla Suduri

the raise of their brow did not go unnoticed, but trilla was not in any kind of position to elaborate. it had nothing to do with the quasi-relationship that trilla had with sabine, but instead, more to do with the fact that they just didn’t know what to say. they didn’t know what was going on between herself and cal, or how to deal with that stupid, warm feeling in their chest that he gave her.

“at least avoiding food and alcohol is easy,” she offered with a shrug of one shoulder. they had been hesitant to even drink water here, but thus far, it seemed to be fine. “oh?” a slight question of disbelief. “you don’t seem like the diplomatic type.”

A chuckle escaped her lips, though not without some degree of acidity. It wasn’t the remark about the diplomacy that bothered them (she could handle negotiations and political affairs if it really came down to it). It was the gravity of the situation, the pull of the artifacts just hours away from liberation. 

“Not that kind of business, I’m afraid.” Now, they pressed one hand to the glass, fingertips cold against the pane. Finally, her gaze focused on Trilla’s, meeting their eyes for just a moment before flitting away to the decorated sarcophagus. “If you know what I mean.” It was ambiguous, but Sabine was sure their friend would understand. (Somehow, she wasn’t worried that they would tell.)

@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 didn’t like any of this one bit. This new reality was coming back at her, way too quickly for her liking - she would have stayed in the shadows forever if she could. It would have been too easy if her peaceful life at the orphanage lasted that long, though. Her alternate had a lifetime here - friends, loved ones. More importantly she had a real network in the Alliance, that Saché had no clue about. Well. She knew what her alternate shared with Yané. Anything else was a complete void. When the holo-message ended, luck was with her. Sabine Wren was more friend than just another member of the Alliance, and Yané actually knew about them. The basics, at least, which where pretty useful anyways. After a quick briefing, Saché had sent a positive reply. She always made time for friends - and apparently that old habit hadn’t died in thirty years. Today was the day her friend was supposed to come, and Saché wasn’t ready for it at all. She had to be, though, because EP - the protocol droid aiding her at the orphanage - opened her office’s door to warn her of Sabine’s arrival. She left her office to find Sabine in the hallway, and greeted them with a warm smile, letting her nervousness aside. “Hello, Sabine,” she said simply. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”It had been a stiff reply, sent with a smile that conveyed more courtesy than amity. Sabine’s mind filled with panic, thoughts racing a system a second through her head. Haar’chak, they were stupid! How long had it been since they had tried contacting Sache? Months? Years? Out on the fringes of the galaxy, Sabine had focused only on herself and her own thoughts. What if her old friend had needed help? What if she had tried to reach them and found nothing but radio static? Did she even want to talk to Sabine? 

It was a stiff reply riddled with a smile that conveyed more courtesy than camaraderie. An influx of emotions swept over the Mandalorian. Haar’chak, Sabine had been stupid! How long had it been since she had tried to contact Sache? Months? Years? Had her friend tried to contact them, only to find radio static? Did she think they had forgotten about her? Did she even want to talk to Sabine?

Still, an invitation had been extended. So, it was with a nervous gait that they slipped through the building into the hallway outside Sache’s office. On the flight through hyperspace, Sabine had run through dozens of conversations in her mind, replaying the scene ahead of them time after time. None of those phantom words could have prepared them for what was actually said, though.

It’s nice to finally meet you. 

Surely this had to be a quip, a retort about how long it had been since their last correspondence. Sabine had been ready for tears, for an embrace, even for a slap in the bucket. But they hadn’t been ready for...whatever was happening here. It caught them off guard. She knew Sache would have changed over time, but how much had truly happened since they last spoke?

“Uh. Er, well.” They couldn’t seem to find the words to match the unease that had settled in the air. “Nice to see you, too, Sache. I-I’m sorry it’s been so long. I really don’t have an excuse, but I’m glad you’re okay, and happy to see you again.”

This was going to be an...interesting reunion.

“Stand in the ashes of a trillion dead souls and ask the ghosts if honor matters. Their silence is your answer.“

Fingers itched to grasp the vibroblade at her waist, but paused. Of all of their interactions, this was the closest Sabine had come to an actual threat of violence. To hatred-- pure and unadulterated.

“Trust, Armitage, that when you join the silence of my ancestors, no one will mourn you, let alone notice your departure. Despite all your efforts to be remembered, no one will feel joy or pain or heartbreak, because no one will have cared enough about your life to waste the energy.”

Anger read cleanly across their face, cool and unwavering. Motionless.

“At least I have a family, even if they are ghosts. Can you really say the same?”

@generally-scheming

“i wouldn’t call myself lucky.”

The roar of blaster fire muffled his words, passed from one hidden visage to another. Sabine countered with a round of shots and ducked behind an empty freight car.

“Funny, I was going to say the same thing!”

An explosion rocked their six, and she had to shout just to be heard.

“Haar’chak, what did we get ourselves into?”

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!”

@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?”

galaxywon​ // Hera Syndulla

Hera  had  been  able  to  rely  on  Sabine  when  their  life  had  been,  even  if  they  didn’t  want  to  admit  it,  in  ruins.  They  were  an  amazing  role  model  for  Jacen,  someone  he  could  both  rely  on  for  guidance  and  adore  due  to  their  fun  and  loving  nature.  It  was  hard  for  her  to  rely  any  of  that  to  the  Mandalorian,  even  after  years  of  being  together.  Affection  hadn’t  come  naturally  to  her.  Even  though  she  wished  it  did  sometimes.  “  I  don’t  know.  He’s  got  Ezra’s  trouble  making  tendencies.  “  she  smiled  affectionately,  going  to  stand  next  to  her,  watching  the  emotions  crossing  her  face  as  she  saw  the  designs  that  had  accumulated  since  her  last  visit.  “  He  wants  to  be  just  like  you.  “  they  informed,  her  arm  wrapping  around  their  shoulders,  chuckling.  “  If  he  asks  use  to  borrow  your  jetpack,  say  no.  “  

They  fixed  a  pointed  glare  towards  Sabine,  though  there  was  no  actual  anger  in  it.  It  had  been  one  of  her  hopes,  for  their  son  to  grow  up  with  values  of  all  of  their  family.  She  saw  small  pieces  them  all  in  him.  “  He’s  been  talking  with  Luke  Skywalker,  trying  to  control  some  of  his  abilities.  “  If  only  Ezra  had  been  there  to  teach  him.  He  would  be  remarkable  at  it,  just  like  Kanan  was  once  he  got  his  head  into  it.  She  was  against  sending  him  to  the  Jedi  Temple,  and  thankfully  Luke  had  respected  their  choice.  Family  mattered  much  more  than  becoming  a  fighting  for  the  New  Republic.  

.

Sabine ran their fingers across the art, old and new, and gave the faintest smile. Hearing her parent talk about Ezra...it brought something of ache to the forefront of their chest, and she knew Hera shared the sentiment. With it, though, was joy (and, even still, a little hope).

“Shit, if he wants to be like me and Ezra, no wonder you’ve got your hands full. But, uh, I don’t know about the jet-pack. I’m sure I was much more reckless at his age.” 

They took a seat at the well-worn Dejarik table and rubbed her hand across their neck, taking a moment to reflect on the other’s musings. 

“Can’t say I know much more about the Jedi than whatever Kanan and Ezra were up to during our time as a crew, but I trust your judgement. I don’t know anything about Skywalker other than the legends, but I know Kanan. If you’re right about Jacen taking after Ezra, he’ll turn out alright.” 

She met the tired eyes of her buir and held their gaze for a moment. They didn’t know how to convey the emotions that were conflicting inside her. Sadness mingled with nostalgia and guilt. It was almost familiar, this cocktail of feelings. Instead, they decided to ask about the unusual silence.

“Speaking of trouble-makers, where’s Chopper? I miss that old war criminal.”

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

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

@finitefm

beskarbuir​ // din djarin

──   THE  CANTEEN  IS  EASILY  CAUGHT,  its coolness permeating past leather.   it’ll be another while before they drink from it,  at least until they can find another retreat from eyes,  though they raise it up with a slight shake to signal thanks.   they swallow down the lingering iron.

as anxiety passes through her,  nicks at her speech,  din lifts themself from against the ship’s side and approaches her with a languid stride.   there’s not much else to indicate that there shouldn’t be so much worry around questioning them   ─   though when they finally reach them,  a hand grips their upper arm as reassurance before falling back to their side.   the touch is as brief as a breath.   in truth,  they’re surprised she had waited this long to ask.   her patience is wholly appreciated,  of course,  but they do not open themself from within.   they could hide themself infinitely.   a being encased in shell upon shell,  they must be pried with anything but a knife.   ❝  yeah.   ❞   their tone is open,  paired with a nod.   wariness lies there,  too.  ❝  go ahead.  ❞  

in turn,  nerves do not bind them but an old weight pulls at their spine,  pooling at their feet and the ends of their fingers.   they’re not sure what to expect,  what vital differentiations will contrast the both of them.   one of their tenets already invites perplexed looks   ─   sometimes it leads others to cruelty,  like it was a challenge to break it for them.    ❝  i’d like to know more about yours,  too  ─    ❞   really,  they already know the response before it leaves them.   but if their companion sought permission for their history,  they will give the same courtesy.  ❝  ─   if you’re willing.  ❞

The trepidation, though never malignant, was always present. It was a dance Sabine had practiced with every sibling by creed, but none more so than this one. There was no resentment or exhaustion or shame in it-- this was just the cost of their relationship. And Sabine was more than content to measure their words, to weigh their steps, to share meals in separate rooms, to avoid painful questions-- if it meant spending time with her friend. For them, it was worth it. 

Their touch was as gentle as it was brief, and it returned her to the present. Sabine greeted his gentility with a waning smile from unmasked lips. Their answer was relief, another brick to the altar of trust built by them both. Of course, he knew her reply. Though nothing in the steel countenance conceded it, the fact made itself known. She would share with him whatever was asked. (They appreciated the formality nonetheless.)

“Yeah. Um. I think that would be...Yeah, I would like that.”

There was no telling where to start. Certain things were known, yes, but others? How were they to tread the trauma they’d experienced in the last few years alone? And how much of it did they really share? Amid the torrent of questions, a quiet reassurance chimed from the back of their mind: let’s start here. 

“Did you-- er, do you have a family?”