@spectreoflasan​ // Zeb Orrelios

xspectre-1​ // kanan jarrus

it had taken kanan years to get here. to feel this comfortable with his emotions… with others. having children had never been the plan, even when sabine and ezra had joined. kanan had insisted they wouldn’t matter– they would be a crew, that was it. 

oh how wrong he had been. 

the family the six had created… it was the reason for their success. for their strength. 

but watching them grow– seeing them now. he couldn’t have guessed how it would have made him feel. how proud he had become. 

kanan smiled a bit, a small chuckle on the edge of his lips. they had always been okay in the end, hadn’t they? perhaps their collective number of loses keeping them from… much. 

but as sabine continued, the small smile fell, perhaps sad to divert so quickly. to face reality. what he had missed– what he had caused even. 

not that the words were expected. 

“what- no, i mean. no more than anyone,” he continued, hands returning to them, worried they might slip away. “i mean, that’s what the rebellion is, isn’t it?”

.

Seeing his smile again...it was like a sunbath after a year of winters, a remnant from a time when her family-- not just one, but both-- had been whole. Years ago, they couldn’t have considered this a possibility. Couldn’t have imagined she’d be standing here on the shining plains of Lothal (a place that held so much shared history for the Spectres). Yet, there she was: in the arms of their parent, now returned to them at last. It was a gentle reminder: in the here and now, the Mandalorian was truly safe. And that was enough.

They almost had to concede a chuckle at his disbelief. She’d seen him perform feats they’d never be able to dream of, had seen him walk through blaster fire alone and blind-- yet return home unscathed. And still he tried to play humble.

“I know it’s hard to believe, right? Who would have thought a knucklehead like you could ever be a war hero?”

She looked up at the mask that adorned his face, the eyes of the jai’galaar still in tact. It had been years since they had painted them on, but for him, it was only a matter of weeks. Months, maybe. Despite the time, she remembered well enough. Those first few nights after Malachor, in the cabin of the Ghost (when words were seldom spoken, but the pain and grief were a shared). Shared by those that loved each other most--

“Dank farrik, Kanan! Have you met with anyone else? Zeb, Hera?”

Therein was hidden the silent question only she knew was being asked of him: did Kanan know about Jacen? Did he know he was a father not only by bond, but also by blood? By the Ka’ra, he needed to know they were safe. He needed to see them healthy, and alive. 

amaryllis :   what is something or someone that your muse takes pride in ? how do they express that pride ?

// Sabine definitely takes gratification in the company they keep. After choosing to leave the Imperial Academy, she was ostracized from their family and spent some time wondering whether or not they deserved the isolation they received. Ketsu’s betrayal only strengthened this resolve and left them in doubt about their worthiness of friendship. This affected her ability to trust, and the first few months with the Spectres were a rough adjustment. Now, though, she loves them all fiercely. Sabine can’t believe that she got lucky enough to make the new family that they did, and they hold the Ghost crew in high respect and admiration. Though they’ll brag about their second family for hours and hours to any willing ear, she might not always vocalize that respect directly to the Spectres. Instead, she likes to focus on silent acts of love. If you find yourself with a new bottle of your favorite spirit of choice, find your blasters checked and polished, or if you feature in one of their artworks, just know-- Sabine truly loves you. // 

@spectreoflasan

@xspectre-1​ // Kanan Jarrus

closed starter // @call-me-spectre-five​ // sabine wren

finding himself on lothal wasn’t the surprise, flashes of memories would have brought him there regardless. the surprise was rooted in something far more confusing. things were different from what kanan last remembered, he couldn’t place it but– well, he was certainly lost here. 

not that it was much of a concern to the blind knight. his focus was on hera– knowing she had been captured, knowing she had been captured and that he wasn’t on that lothal– the distress associated was perhaps somewhat overwhelming. 

but with, admittedly directionless, wandering, he had been surprised to sense– sabine??

it was enough to pull his attention, and enough of a feeling to drag the jedi aimlessly in a new direction, further from the city but perhaps closer to an answer. 

as he neared, he could feel she had noticed him– not that the force was needed for as much, their relationship based in more than that– “sabine?” he questioned, a hand reaching to feel at her head as if it wasn’t the young mandalorian he was acutely familiar with, “what’s– what’s happening?”

The rotations had been unforgiving of late. Lothal’s single sun burned bright, with little precipitation to relieve the plains near Capital City. It had been a short stay, but long enough for silent reflection. Ezra’s tower had been restored after Imperial presence was wiped out, and the Mandalorian often found themself returning for a few days at a time, watching over the small planet from above. It was secluded, out of the way, and by all means, a perfect resting spot for someone who wanted to be alone. But today, as a dark cloud rolled over the city, Sabine spotted something-- someone-- walking the field toward her makeshift encampment. 

Could that be--?

The turbolift couldn’t take her to ground level fast enough, but when it did, she could do little but gasp in surprise. Removing their helmet in a hurry, Sabine met his hand with her own, then raised it a few inches to their cheek, where tears were starting to blossom in her eyes.

“Kanan?”

It had been years, but here he was, the man who had for so long acted like a buir to them. Here he was, back where it had all changed, but this time, she had found him.

“I-it’s me, Sabine.” They longed to reassure him that everything was okay, that he was okay, but neither would have believed it. She wanted to wrap their arms around him in an embrace, to never let go, but stopped in an attempt to avoid overwhelming the already flummoxed man. “I’m here, Kanan. You’re on Lothal. What do you remember?” 

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

❛  do  you  think  i’m  stupid ?  ❜ (From Alton)

“Not necessarily.” She spoke was clarity and precision, every word punctuated with a sharpened edge. They held no love for the man who had smeared her family’s names and painted them as traitors during the birth of the Rebellion.

“Quite the opposite, in fact. Someone who profits on the suffering of others needs to have some level of intelligence to survive as long as you have.”

Their voice remained steady. She would not give him the satisfaction of emotion.

“You’re cruel, and you’re cowardly, but you’re not stupid. If you really want to know what I think of you--” they smiled, though it was empty and devoid of emotion, “--just know, it’s not fear or anger. I pity you, Alton.”

@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.”

beskarbuir​ // din djarin

──   THE  REMARK,  A  BREACH  THROUGH  A  VEILED  HUSH,  was welcome yet unexpected.  he appreciates their comment,  how it didn’t come from a mouth of want.   there had been enough words from those seeking to shuck the beskar off his body,  making a flayed revenant out of him.   he thinks to ask about their armor in turn:   who painted it,  who forged it,  was it inherited;  things of the like.   they both know he will voice none of it,  but he still casts them a lilted glance in content. 

by the time they arrive,  the afternoon has deepened,  twin shadows trail their approach toward something a little more than a shed,  an initial shop that surely housed a downward descent  ( a staple of tatooine’s architecture ).   rounding the corner,  they near the garage opening,  with it’s gaping maw of oddities spilling forth.   towards the back seats a mechanic immersed in soldering,  though they instantly sensed the incoming presence.

 ❝  ah  —  now this is a surprise !  ❞  the worker pushes from their current project and rises to their feet,  bouncing with a certain energy.  nerves or just genuine shock at their entry,  din couldn’t tell.   a reflection of the alloy flickers across their eyes and a hand rises to shield from the brilliance,  wincing through a cordial smile all the while.    ❝  what can i do for you,  mandalorians ?   and make it quick !   the shop closes soon.  ❞   he questions that particular remark  —  there were a couple hours until dusk swallowed the land,  and the current season even staved the night’s reach.

din’s reply is curt,  as unrelenting as their steady walk into the workshop,  ❝  we’re not here for business.  ❞ 

the mechanic’s features falter,  darting through curiosity,  contempt,  concern,  then back to curiosity with open palms.    ❝  oh ?   then why would you two be here ?   i imagine you’d be quite busy with the  —  ❞   a north-bound wave of the hand,  back towards the village.   ❝   —  favors the locals asked of you.  ❞

his next approach is considered; either direct questioning or intimidating with an oppressive silence will set off this middleman  ( he assumes )  based on their snappy movements alone.   though a moment is taken to rethink this. perhaps the fellow mandalorian would like to initiate the conversation,  or instigate it.   an interest in witnessing her approach also goads him.   with his torso turning to his companion,  he looks at her  —  gestures made in silence to say,  ‘ will you do the honors ? ’

Sabine studies their counterpart’s features with a vested interest. Just because she cannot see their face does not mean the two don’t share another language, one comprised of the movement between breaths. It’s instinctual, a result of their shared heritage. His foot shifts the slightest degree backwards, and in turn she rocks forward, hand on blaster.

“So, here’s how this goes down. We all keep calm, and you tell us what we want to know--” Two pairs of veiled eyes met, and the Mandalorians tense, readying themselves for confrontation.

“--or--” they propose, now openly brandishing the firearm (one of a twin pair, just as their wielder).

“--you tell us what we want to know and you get a blaster bolt to the heart. Now, I may have a good temper, but I can’t vouch for my partner here.” A smile creeps into her voice, and they hope the humor is well-received. 

A flurry of steps, a dance of fingers on triggers and sand spitting from an attempted runaway. The pulse of energy, bright blue, trailing the space from metal tip to calloused leather, and the drop of a body. (Not dead. Only stunned.) With haste, they drag the body into the shadow of the workshop, then duck down a set of hidden stairs. The two work in an awkward sync, mirroring movements and hesitating with unease. Still, it works. With an ally at each other’s side (and a little bit of good fortune), the bounty was as good as theirs. 

“Kandosii, vod. Let’s go.”

@cptfulcrum​ // Alexsandr Kallus

Kallus  knew,  just  as  much  as  the  rest  of  them,  how  easy  it  was  to  be  alone.  Solitary  had  been  his  comfort.  As  an  ISB  agent  they  were  conditioned  to  be  on  the  outside.  They  weren’t  in  the  same  chain  of  command  as  the  rest  of  the  Imperial  Navy.  They  were  internal  affairs,  never  trusted.  His  career  had  been  based  in  solitude.  He  hadn’t  realized  until  he  joined  the  Rebellion  that  maybe  he  did  prefer  the  company  of  others.  Others  like  the  Spectres,  like  Zeb  and  Hera  and  Sabine.  “  You  don’t  need  to  explain  yourself.  “  he  countered,  finally  relaxing  his  stance,  hands  moving  into  the  pockets  of  his  jacket.  “  But  do  not  feel  the  need  to  go  through  life  without  us.  We  are  here  for  you.  “  

His  eyes  studied  their  face,  watching  the  way  their  stance  relaxed  slowly.  Alexsandr  didn’t  want  Sabine  to  feel  the  need  to  assure  him  that  everything  was  okay,  but  he  understood  the  reasons  why.  It  was  easy  to  forget  that  they  had  been  at  the  Imperial  Academy.  It  was  a  lesson  ingrained  from  the  very  beginning,  to  not  let  emotions  cloud  ones  judgement.  It  was  something  he  had  taken  to  heart.  As  a  Mandalorian,  he  assumed  it  was  second  nature  to  them.  “  I  am  glad  then.  “  he  didn’t  believe  them,  but  he  also  wouldn’t  argue  now.  Not  when  he  had  just  come  back.  

“  We’ve  been  integrating  Lira  San  with  the  New  Republic.  Very  slowly.  Understandably,  many  are  apprehensive.  Some  survivors  from  Lasan  believe  that  another  attack  in  imminent.  “  he  spoke  mechanically,  not  allowing  his  own  guilt  from  the  event  to  break  through.  Sabine  knew  enough  about  his  past.  “  Garazeb  is  well,  if  that’s  what  you  are  wondering.  Though  he  misses  his  family.  “  he  met  their  eyes  again,  raising  his  brows.  “  If  it  can  be  believed,  we  have  found  as  close  to  a  retirement  as  possible  for  soldiers.  “  At  least  they  had,  before  Ezra  and  their  guilt.  Now  his  mission  for  Thrawn.  “  I  haven’t  heard  any  updates  on  you  as  of  late.  What  have  you  been  doing  ??  “  

Sabine examined Kallus’s face while he spoke, studying how he measured his words and weighed his expressions before speaking to them. There was more he wanted to say, she was sure, but they weren’t about to pry. His words echoed in their ears. We are here for you. 

Dank farrik, Sabine had been stupid. With their wandering about the galaxy with no contact, it was not surprising that Zeb had sent Kallus to check on her. The rest of the Ghost crew, they must be worried. That same feeling of shame boiled in the pit of their stomach, but they smiled to Kallus, nodding as he spoke about her old friend and his people. She knew how difficult it must be for Kallus to be on Lira San, how guilty he must feel. Still, they knew how hard he was trying-- and how much it meant to Zeb that he was there.

“I am...glad to hear you and Zeb are doing well.” She paused, wondering if they should voice their next thought. “You...deserve that, you know. A peaceful life away from the politics and danger of it all. You both do.”

When nothing was said to fill the silence between them, Sabine continued, finally answering the question she had been trying to avoid.

“I guess you haven’t heard from me because I haven’t really been in the action. I’m still with the Rebellion, just not in the heart of the fight. At least, not right now. I’ve been...” They hesitated, knowing that whatever she said would be repeated to her old friend. “I mean, you know how slow it is, trying to chase dead leads on information for the Rebellion. It’s an unreliable business. But, I’m glad you’re settled down now. Your days of action over, right?”

cravked​ // Trilla Suduri

although it had been forced upon them, trilla had not been a child prepared for war. too soft, with a preference for things to be right or wrong. the clone wars hadn’t offered any of that. the empire hadn’t, either, but they had also broken her of those things entirely. they were still recovering pieces of the past, deciding which were worth holding onto.

“did you expect something else? the only thing most people know about hapans is that they abhor outsiders.” even she knew barely more than that, despite their frequent efforts to be as prepared as possible. it was that piece of fear that still lived inside of them. her brow twitched at the change of subject. “thank you,” a beat passed. “you look very… colorful. is that normal for you, or are you making a statement?”

.

The Mandalorian chewed on their words before committing to response. In truth, there wasn’t much she knew about their hosts-- other than the fact that they hoarded what clearly didn’t belong to them. This was a place of war, they could tell that much. But beyond that, Sabine knew strikingly little.She welcomed the change of tone, greeted it with an apathetic smile.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, I suppose,” they nodded in the silence. “And, both, I suppose. Without my armor, I’ve got to find some way to stand out, right?” She half-heartedly joked, tapping the rim of her drink in an unsteady rythym of anxiety. “Can I ask what you’re doing here? This doesn’t really seem like your kind of function.”

“It’s got a wonderful attack mechanism.”

They raised a brow, feigning the confidence needed of a Rebellion leader. Ears and eyes were on her, always. Time to put on a show.

“Then I guess it’s a good thing we have the wits to outmaneuver whatever you bucketheads throw our way, huh?” Sabine took in a few readings on the console, adjusting the ship’s thrusters for takeoff. “You sure you want to do this, Imp? I don’t want you to start a firefight you can’t finish.”