@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.”
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.”
❛ can i come with you ? ❜ ( from kallus )
Though the war was over, Sabine still found this base to be crowded on occasion; a hangar so close to the Core Worlds had its uses, after all. It was nice to see so many familiar faces, albeit a little overwhelming. But if they were going to leave for the mission, the time was now.
"You know I won't turn down that offer, Kallus." They passed his comlink back, frequency now in tune with the one at her hip. "Besides, I could always use the conversation. Hyperspace can be so boring, you know."
The sight of the planet ran cold in her blood. For a moment, as the ship dropped from hyperspace, all they could see was Mandalore. The ash, the scars of a scorched planet. Streets overrun with fire, buildings reduced to ash. It was all too familiar. Guilt surged in their blood like it had done then, her breath caught in panic and fear. Without thinking, Sabine clutched onto Zeb, their fur thick underneath her touch.
“It’s so much worse than I thought.”
If the Mandalorian had held any doubt that Lothal needed their help, it was gone now. There was a half-glance shared, and a moment of understanding passed between the two. There was work to be done, and no time to hesitate.
“Where do we even begin?”
@spectreoflasan
Location: Kalarba, the ruins of Hosk Station
From orbit, the planet seemed scarred. Every plants’ branches had snapped, and every leaf was coated in a film of ash. Rolling pits littered the surface where life had once teemed in abundance. Grey mist hung in the air, a bitter mixture of smoke and ash from the searing flames of debris. Some fires, still lit, pulsed hungrily around them like a gundark in desperate search of its prey.
Iden had sent Sabine a brief manifesto detailing everything the Rebellion knew about the crash-- which was, unfortunately, not much. What had piqued their interest, however, was the apparent villain behind this new act of terrorism. Supposedly, those who had witnessed the damage firsthand seemed to have reason to suspect Imperials-- or, at least, their technologies. The simple thought of this was enough to make Sabine’s stomach churn in unease. If it was true, if that broken system of oppression had returned to take the lives of so many people...well, it wouldn’t help them sleep at night.
When she had read the name written on Iden’s message and quickly realized it was unfamiliar to her, the mission seemed suddenly less solemn.They liked to stay relatively connected within the social network of the Rebellion (though it was always possible to miss a few people along the way). Sabine knew next to nothing about this person-- and that’s exactly what compelled her to greet his arrival with a smile and an outstretched hand.
“Cal Kestis, I assume? Nice to meet you. The name’s Sabine Wren.”
@lcstpadawan // cal kestis
📜 – kanan
Sabine: I am not out of control! I'm a law abiding citizen! Kanan: Really? Name one law Sabine: Don't kill people? Kanan: That's on me. I set the bar too low.
(bonus!)
Sabine: I think I'm having a mid-life crisis. Kanan: You're like 15 years old Sabine: I MIGHT DIE AT 30!
@sacreficied
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?”
@cravked // trilla suduri
her eyes rolled after the stranger’s comment, not quite believing it –– not that there was anything necessarily inherently wrong with what they were saying, but the mere fact that trilla did not think it was remotely possible that she could remind someone of a younger brother. there was nothing about them in general that would particularly be like that, she thought. nothing endearing or whatever else people thought about siblings. she didn’t know particularly much about what traditional family dynamics looked like.
“i wouldn’t know, i never knew my family,” trilla answered with a shrug of her shoulders. it had never mattered to her as a child because that was just the way things were in the jedi temple. there were other younglings, the masters, but nothing by blood.
gaze tilted over toward them, her gaze narrowing slightly and looking at her a bit closer. “what about me reminds you of him?” she doesn’t care, if it were the truth –– but she doesn’t entirely believe that they were being wholly honest with her, and that was what she was much more interested in.
The answer Trilla gave wasn’t entirely surprising. Terrible, yes, but not unexpected. For years, the Empire had choked the galaxy from the innermost cities of the Core Worlds all the way to the Outer Rim. The time was a ruthless one, full of orphans and hungry hands. But something about the quickness, the coolness, with which she answered the question dug into Sabine. Still, Trilla expected a response, and Sabine wasn’t one to deny her that after the personal question she, herself had just asked.
“He was...a quiet kid. Incredibly smart, but sometimes he’d go days without speaking.” Sabine allowed themself a smile, stumbling through past memories. “He grew out of it, mostly, but even when we were still learning the six tenets of the resol’nare, he would listen more than speak. When he did, though, you knew that what he had to say was important. The most I ever heard from him was...” They took a breath, remembering the cold greetings back on Krownest years ago. The planet’s icy temperature hadn’t been the only thing to bring a chill to her skin that day.
“Anyways, you seem to share that similar stillness. The looking before jumping. The taste for observation. If you don’t mind my saying so.”
They looked over at their walking partner to gauge her reaction. The two were both hesitant of each other, but Sabine wanted to show that she could be open to trust. It didn’t come freely (not by a long shot) but Trilla had been nothing but helpful so far. The Mandalorian might as well attempt the same courtesy.
“And, he had a real sense of humor, though he didn’t always realize it.” They grinned crookedly. “The little mir’sheb. So, I’m sure you can understand the resemblance there.”
@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?”
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?”
@pilotheart // Zay Versio
This conversation wasn’t something Zay was going to get used to. It was hard for her to keep control of her emotions as Sabine spoke, trying not to smile because of how happy she was — or because, to be honest, the Mandalorian was funny when drunk. She really wished she had a recording device to keep all that stutter with her. And that dancing. At least they both looked stupid. Zay was just as uptight as her mother, and her not knowing how to dance, or just let go, was a direct side effect of it. Others might tell don’t overthink in that kind of moments, but that wasn’t something Zay was able to do right now. “I’ll remember that,” she said with a smile, already a million questions planned. It could wait, though. Zay decided to keep her mouth shut when Sabine talked about their dancing — she’d rather just nod than comment and hurt them. Because if they were actually conscious of what they just told her, Zay needed to tell them the truth. It was going to hurt. And she didn’t want Sabine to get hurt by anything, ever, especially not by her. “You better be really sure about that because I like you, too,” Zay blurted out, not really believing that these words came out so easily. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.” She was sorry about plenty other things, though. But happy Sabine knew at least that now.
Something lept in the pit of the Mandalorian’s gut (and for once it wasn’t the liquor). Manda, Zay liked them back? The confirmation made her want to climb the banisters, to shout from the roof until her throat went sore! They wanted to leap, to-- they didn’t know! Who needed the high when she had her friend’s hand in their own? Had the confirmation that I like you too?!
“Hey.” Sabine sobered as much as she could, just for a moment. They squeezed their friend’s hand once, a pulse they hoped could convey what words could not. “I promise, Zay. I won’t lie to you. I may be. A lot of things--” A soldier. An artist. A killer. A criminal. “--but I won’t lie to you.”
Then, Sabine did something they never could have imagined they’d have the nerve to do. Sure, it might have been the drink or the drug, but it was also something else entirely, a new electricity brimming from toes to fingertips. In the middle of that crowd, amid the flickering light and the swell of the music, Sabine leaned forward and planted a small kiss on Zay’s cheek, then brushed her hair back so her eyes could shine more clearly in the waning light. They let go of her hand, then stepped back a half pace.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Artist. Madalorian. Weapons Master. Rebel. "My friends make the impossible possible." // RP account for galacticshq
160 posts