This Night Was Exactly what Sabine Needed. After Months Of...well, Everything That Had Happened, This

galaxywon​ // Alexsandr Kallus

Kallus  scanned  the  cluttered  vicinity,  but  found  no  issue  with  it.  He’d  been  in  much  tighter  situations  before,  both  as  an  Imperial  and  as  a  rebel.  Their  ship  seemed  homey,  lived  in,  more  clutter  than  he  had  ever  allowed  in  his  own  but  nothing  to  make  him  uncomfortable.  “  Thank  you.  “  he  nodded  politely,  back  set  straight  as  they  sat  down.  He  had  planned  to  be  as  quiet  as  possible,  melt  into  the  wall  if  he  was  able,  but  Sabine’s  words  cut  through  his  plans  almost  immediately.  He  cleared  his  throat,  careful  not  to  meet  their  eyes  as  reached  for  the  data  padd  in  his  pack.  “  We’ve  spoken,  “  he  started  off,  not  knowing  how  much  he  wanted  to  tell  Sabine,  or  how  much  Zeb  would.  They  were  from  this  time,  knew  that  he  and  Xeb  had  been  much  more  than  roommates.  He  could  speak  freely  about  it  in  these  walls  if  he  wanted  to.  

He  wasn’t  sure  he  could  without  feeling  sick.  “  We  met  at  a  party  a  while  back.  They  hadn’t  been  back  for  too  long.  “  he  explained.  “  I  was…..  Inebriated.  Not  of  my  own  doing,  of  course.  “  He  explained.  She  would  knew  what  he  was  talking  about.  The  talk  of  that  evening  would  go  on  for  quite  a  while  he  assumed.  “  It  didn’t  go  well.  I  didn’t……  I  couldn’t  tell  him.  I’m  not  going  to  change  his  whole  perception  of  reality.  It  would  be  selfish.  “  

.

They listened while lines bloomed on the screen beneath her fingertips. They could feel his mounting anxiety, could tell the subject was a sensitive one. It marked him like a line of sutures, and she wasn’t looking to deepen the cut. Uneasy humor nestled on their tongue at the mention of the fundraiser.

“Oh fuck, that party? Yeah, I think we all had our fair share of embarrassment.”

But, he continued, and emotions settled, like a fine sediment sinking to the bottom of a riverbed. Strokes became longer, less even, as they reflected upon the silence in between words. Measured the pauses that gave depth to the hurt.

“Fuck. I’m. I’m sorry, Alexsandr. I know how much he means to you. But, for what it’s worth,” they spoke, this time meeting his tired gaze. “I don’t think you’re selfish. Love is...it’s weird, and complicated. Sometimes it fucking sucks.” They offered a smile, though one marked with an untraceable sadness. How long had it been since the Mandalorian had been in love? Real, true love? Still, this wasn’t about her.

“Look, maybe you can find your way back to where you were, maybe you can’t, but. But, please, Alex.” they leaned forward even from across the cabin, reaching for him in a way no physical touch could ever convey.  “I’m here for you. Aliit ori'shya tal'din.” Family is more than blood. With that admission, the Mandalorian leaned back and picked up the pace of the stylus between their fingers. This tattoo, it seemed, might be a distraction from them both. Family is more than blood, but what if you were the one holding the knife?

goldenrod :   does your muse believe in luck or fortune ? why or why not ?   where do they believe these things come from ?

// Yep! Sabine definitely believes in some measure of luck (good and bad). After all, the Ghost Crew can’t have gotten out of all of those tight spots without a little extra help. They’re not completely sure that it comes from any one place; she’s wondered if it could be the Force or the council of fallen Mandalorian rulers known as the Ka’ra, but she’s really not sure. They’ve always tried to have an open mind when it comes to the varied religious history of Mandalore, and they remain content with understanding that not everything can be understood. What would be the fun if there wasn’t a little mystery in the galaxy? // 

@artfuldarthness

@cravked​ // trilla suduri

hindsight was twenty-twenty, or so people said, and there were a handful of ways in which trilla saw that to be true now. she had been a bit obsessive as a child, about the idea of being the best, and looked to improve her skills in whatever way that she had. although arrogance had plagued her as an inquisitor, it hadn’t been entirely blown out of narcissistic proportions. every skill that cere had, she had taken the time to master. she had learned even more with the empire. they may have still carried the red-bladed lightsaber with them, concealed underneath their coat, but their greatest skill would always be their brain.

trilla was well aware of the mechanics of most speeders, capable of fixing quite a few things when with the right tool. still, she did not expect the stranger to hand her a soldier tool. she hesitated, staring at it as it was extended for a long moment and debating walking away. but she was supposed to be better. she wanted to be better. she took it, but did not hold back the annoyed sigh.

“does my name really make that much of a difference, if it’ll fix this piece of junk?” for someone who did not have much money to their name, she could still be an occasional snob. the empire had many downsides, but she’d never had to deal with anything other than state of the art equipment as an inquisitor. a beat passed, stepping closer so that she could examine the problem with the speeder herself. “trilla,” she threw out after a few moments of silence. “you might be able to get it running for a bit longer, but that engine is going to breakdown on you if you pick up any proper speed.”

Sabine let out a short chuckle.

“Yeah, I learned that the hard way,” they responded. “About two times today, and once yesterday, actually,” she smirked. 

This visitor, Trilla, had an odd way of thinking about things. They allowed themself to wonder-- what could cause a person to maintain that attitude, while still being generous enough to help a stranger unprompted? Or, if not acting out of kindness, then what did Trilla need from Sabine? What debt would be owed?

Taking in the silence, they reached in their bag for another tool so the two could multitask at once. They worked in busy stillness, occasionally passing each other a tool or handing off a bit of cable or scrap metal to tie loose ends together. While it certainly was not neat (in fact, it was a quite messy job-- but, hey, she wanted to get the bike back before it was good for nothing but scrap metal), it appeared doable. When the silence seemed to linger in the air too long, she started humming an old song under their breath. It was barely more than a mumble, but it was all they needed to fill the quiet.The melody rang familiar on their tongue, just as it once had in the great halls of Mandalorian warriors long since fallen. They were interrupted when, with a loud POP!, the bike belched out a wisp of dark smoke.

“Osi’kyr!” She gasped, an exclamation of surprise, followed by a small mutter of disgust and frustration. “Haar’chak. What am I going to do 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.

l  closed starter  l @naboospage 

Part of the healing was re-acquainting themself with the people they used to know. Sabine knew that she couldn’t spend forever on the outskirts of the galaxy, hunting down dead-ended information and criminal bounties alike. Grief had pushed her to seek space, but they knew now that the time for being alone was over. The last few weeks, she’d been gradually talking to more people from their past (Iden, Ahsoka, Kallus). Though some of the conversations were painful, she knew that being vulnerable is what her family would want her to do. Ezra and Tristan would want this for her. 

“Sache, my friend! This is Sabine.”

They spoke with more enthusiasm then they actually felt, hoping their facade wouldn’t be read through the blur of the holo-message. The two had been good friends, once upon a time, when the Rebellion had been in its most desperate need for agents of all kinds (and Sache had proved more capable than most).

“It’s been a while, but I just wanted to check in and see how you were doing. I was hoping we could catch up sometime soon. When you have time, of course.”

They fiddled with the hem of their flight suit a moment before wrapping the message up with a pointed smile and a wink.

“Hope to hear from you soon, Sache. Safe travels.”

beskarbuir​ // din djarin

──   HERE  IS  WHERE  THEY  MAY  FINALLY  BREATHE  IN  AGAIN,  when a culmination of violence frays to a resolution.   messy,  still,  and it’s another finished job for the two.   conflict is their heritage,  but it is a sister to calmness,  and it is built into the architecture of their bones.   the bounty is carbon-frozen,  weapons are secured,  and they lean on the side of their gunship with some tension finally leaving their shoulders.   however,  their breath hitches once as a fresh wound is sanitized and bound.   a cut upon an aging bruise on top of a fading scar.   it’ll take more for them to fall apart at the seams,  even if the galaxy begs for a butchering.

their companions stands a few paces away,  and they’re content in their familiar presence.   another part of them allows hesitance to linger in case of a change in mind,  in case of betrayal;  the rest of them chastises themself for the instinct.   sabine has stuck with them this far   ─   and her gait holds a loneliness akin to their own.   she may occupy a space in their solitude,  if she wishes. 

though at the turn of her heel, ❝   ─   sabine,  wait,  ❞  spoken so suddenly,  as a glove is pried off his right hand.  ❝  keep looking away.  please.  ❞  a long stare follows,  just enough to see her comply and turn her cheek.   the flesh of their left palm presses into the helmet’s rim,  the weight of it keeping some resistance until cool air brushes the lower half of his face.   the swelling of his bandaged nose bridge is touched gingerly before it travels to his cheek,  jaw,  then lips.  there,  it lingers over a cauterizing split and pulls away.   the dried coagulate slips beneath his fingernail.   gravity pulls their helmet down again with gentle guidance.   they’re healing,  and that’s the best they can ask for. 

❝  you can look again.  ❞  spoken softer this time,  when their bare hand is sheathed once more. ❝  thanks.  ❞

    ─   @call-me-spectre-five

(cw light medical injuries)

The job had been arduous, taxing on body and mind. Neither had escaped unscathed, but their friend had taken an especially traumatic blow to the head. At their companion’s bid, she turned away, quick to respect their adherence to privacy, to remaining faceless and nameless. She does not fully understand his interpretation of the Creed, but they don’t discredit it, either. Years ago on their home planet, a lesson was taught to the foundlings: Mandalore is a people, and no one warrior may understand their texts and tales in the same way. This was a view Sabine had adopted for their own, and it held true; as long as this brother-in-arms was not using violence to influence the beliefs of others, they saw no harm in his actions.

“I apologize. I…I should have been more careful.”

The sting of the sutures and bacta spray wasn’t anything compared to the hurt she felt for this travel companion, for their panic and fear. Closing the stitch on her forearm, they were reminded of the guilt. The shame and responsibility she bore for the extinction of their people…gods, it put more weight on her shoulders than any beskar ever could.

At his admission, they turn, the familiar countenance of steel meeting her gaze. She tosses them a smile and a canteen of water. He can drink when he’s ready. She’s glad to be in their presence, to share the transport ship with such fine company. Though much remains unspoken between the two, there is some layer of trust woven into the silence. It makes the questions she wants to ask that much more difficult; they don’t want to drive him away with the pressure of speech. If and when they wanted to talk, Sabine would be there to listen, but it wasn’t a foundation of their friendship.

“Vod, I-” Tongue touched the roof of mouth, and they felt the words heavy as lead. “You don’t have to say yes, okay? You can say no. But, uh,” Shit, they felt so stupid. This goddamned struggle with speech, it always resurfaced when she was anxious. “Can I ask you a few questions about your clan? About your faith?”

Manda, they hoped it wasn’t a step over his line of trust. (She didn’t know how thin it ran.)

@naboospage​ // Sache

There was a mirror in Sache’s office, and she spent some time looking at it while waiting for Sabine to come. She had to look different than what the Mandalorian remembered - she’d seen the holos showing the Saché of this timeline. All her features where almost unrecognisable- for her at least. The difference had to show in her holo message, too.

This was going to hurt, and not just her. Saché was pretty sure that once Sabine would learn the truth, they’d run away and never talk to her again. Which was understandable. She wouldn’t want to talk with a friend that didn’t remember any of her.

Once out of the office and facing Sabine, she tried her best to look strong and welcoming. The other’s confusion didn’t surprise her, but made her feel guilty and sad.

“Come in, I’ll make some tea,” Saché said as EP closed the door behind them. On another day she’d let the droid do the tea and serve them, but she needed to keep her hands busy. “Don’t apologise Sabine, I’ve been avoiding everyone since the war ended. I suppose you’ve heard of the Emperor’s Rift?” She didn’t wait for an answer, sat down while the water was boiling. “From my perspective, the Clone Wars ended three years ago. I greeted you like that because we haven’t met yet.”

Then she waited for a reaction. And for the water to boil. And for an excuse to leave, but she wasn’t going to run away from this. She had been avoiding everything for too long.

Tea would barely be enough to calm Sabine’s nerves, but it was better than nothing. They paid mind to the twisting arches of steam and the pressure of heat in her hands instead of the torrent of emotion boring holes into her brain. This Sache, she looked so different than they remembered. And now she knew why.

A note of guilt rang through the Mandalorian’s chest. If they had only reached out sooner, maybe neither person would be feeling this anxiety and hurt. And it did hurt. She thought she would have been used to it by now, the shifting of timelines and relationships, the loss of friends and family, but they never were. It was a fresh sting each time, a pain they would never be comfortable feeling. Still, she could feel the same emotions radiating from the person in front of them. Yes, the friendship would have to be rebuilt (and it probably wouldn’t look the same as one forged through the camaraderie of shared cause), but it was the least they could do to reassure Sache it wasn’t her fault.

“Well, then, it’s.” The words felt heavy and sticky on the roof of her mouth, something they had struggled with all of her life (despite her reputation for having a silver tongue). “It’s nice to meet you, Sache. Thank you for inviting me here. And for the tea.”

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​

 mvchinery​ // Depa Billaba

confusion colored her expression at the near instant recognition, because as much as she wanted to, depa couldn’t return it by face alone. still, she shook the stranger’s hand after returning their items, mustering a friendly smile.

at their name, though, she brightened far more genuinely, her smile broadening. “oh, sabine ! kanan mentioned you. it’s lovely to meet you too.” she didn’t know too much about the rest of the ghost crew, but she had been looking forward to meeting them. they were kanan’s family, & she was glad he had found such a good group to have his back. “i would love to get to know you.”

The warm reception was enough to give pause to the anxiety in the pit of her stomach. This woman was someone Kanan looked so highly up to. Surely it was important the Mandalorian make a good first impression, and bumping into the Jedi hadn’t exactly been the ideal start.

“Likewise! Sorry, I’m not, uh--” they readjusted the straps on her messenger bag and swept a stray piece of hair out of her face. “I’m usually more put together than this,” Sabine said with a light chuckle. “D’you, er...Do you have time to talk?”

@cptfulcrum​ // Alexsandr Kallus

Everyone  was  struggling  with  Ezra’s  untimely  death.  So  many  unanswered  questions,  so  much  pain.  He  knew  that  Zeb  felt  it,  which  is  another  reason  why  Kallus  had  been  keeping  his  distance  from  Lira  San  as  of  late.  He  wanted  to  allow  his  friend  to  grieve  in  the  way  he  saw  fit.    That’s  what  he  was  telling  himself  at  least.  Watching  Zeb  and  Hera  grieve  Ezra  once  was  excruciating.  He  didn’t  think  he  could  do  it  again,  not  when  he  was  still  reeling  from  getting  the  kid  (  man  really  )  back  and  losing  him  again.  Allowing  himself  to  work  again,  for  the  New  Republic,  had  given  him  purpose.  When  he  had  heard  from  Zeb  that  Sabine  hadn’t  been  in  contact  for  a  while,  he  knew  that  he  had  to  check  in  on  her.

Tracking  a  Mandalorian  was  no  easy  task,  even  for  ex-ISB.  Whispers  of  the  warrior  in  the  painted  armor  had  finally  lead  him  someplace.  He  had  landed  his  ship  a  few  clicks  north  and  had  been  on  a  speeder.  When  he  saw  the  lone  speeder  that  he  hoped  belong  to  them,  he  slowed  down  before  getting  off  of  the  bike.  He  left  it  idling,  not  sure  if  Sabine  even  wanted  to  see  him.  He  wouldn’t  be  particularly  surprised  if  they  preferred  their  alone  time  right  now.  But  he  had  to  try,  at  the  very  least.  

He  approached  slowly,  a  hand  on  his  blaster,  just  in  case  it  was  not  their  friend  that  he  found,  but  a  potential  foe  instead.  One  could  never  be  too  careful,  especially  when  he  had  been  attempting  to  track  Grand  Admiral  Thrawn.  “  Sabine  ??  “  he  called,  finally  passing  the  clearing  and  seeing  them.  “  It’s  Kallus.  Garazeb  was….  Well,  we  were  worried.  “  he  admitted,  “  I  told  him  I’d  come  and  check  up  on  you.  “  

Sabine looked up at the sound of a speeder bike in the distance, all mechanical hum and rattle. They froze, hoping it was just another passerby and not anyone she knew. Working quickly, they stowed tools in exchange for a blaster, aiming it at the thicket before them. 

Something that sounded like her name carried across the wind, and they planted their feet sternly, breathing deepening in preparation for battle.

Who had the will to track her down all the way to this remote planet on the edges of the Outer Rim? What did they want with her? The stranger’s words were muffled and distorted from crossing through wind and distance, though she could see the shape of their body winding towards her in the foliage. Her heart jumped to their throat. After all this time fighting, after the wars she was raised in, still they felt a twinge of anxiety at the prospect of confrontation. Stalks of foreign plants rustled with movement, and a figure emerged into the clearing with a hand on their gun. Sabine stood, still as a stone.

Kallus? 

Was it really him, that old Imperial-turned-Rebel, after all? Last she had heard, he was on Lira San, helping to rebuild the Lasat species on their homeworld, (and spending a lot of time with Zeb, too). Could it be him, this man whose story mirrored their own in too many ways? Yet, here he stood in front of her, eyes wide as their own. 

“Dank farrik,” they finally murmured. They lowered their blaster, but the tension did not leave the muscles in her arm (or in the air between the two figures).

“Kallus. If I’m being honest, you are the last person I expected to see here. Wh-” they holstered their gun. “What are you doing here?”