Sabine Wren

“Do I look like the kind of man who dies?“ ( from poe )

“If your flying is really as good as half of the Base makes it out to be, then death shouldn’t even be a concern of ours. Besides-- this mission is supposed to be a piece of cake!”

Still, the shuddering of turbulence gave her reasonable pause. Surely everything would go smoothly on an operation as simple as this...right?

@galaxywon

@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.

What We Lost Along the Way

| open starter |

Sabine stared up at the endless expanse of galaxies around her, watching as two little suns’ rays peeked their way over the horizon, honey interrupting the amethyst twinkling of stars above. This planet, for all of its dangers, was beautiful, that much was true. The hues above blended seamlessly, and all Sabine could do was stare in awe and silence up at the universe around them, a still wonder about the teeming nature of life filling the background of their mind.

Mud that had crusted over into dirt specked the underside of her boots, and they picked it away aimlessly. Their mind was somewhere else this sunsrise. Again, she nodded to herself in pensive silence. 

Don’t worry, Ezra. I haven’t forgotten you. 

And, it was as true as the air rushing through their lungs. Months had gone by since he had passed away, but they knew, somewhere inside, that he was watching over them even now. With that dopey grin and a quip on his tongue, he was there. It was a dull ache, a constant hum in their bones, that had kept her from giving up amid the stressors of war (like so many others had done before her). A heaviness pulled at their heart, a biting doubt that if only she had been a little faster— or had they been more communicative—

But it was no good to blame themself. Ezra was lost, and then he was found. And then he was lost again, but this time, with more permanence. It wasn’t her fault. Or, at least, that’s what their family had said. It’s not your fault. If only they could believe that.

So, they waited. They waited, and wondered if she should contact old friends for the first time in weeks. Those friends were not lost to time and space, just at a different point within it, after all. It had been lonely the last few weeks, chasing a lead of information that turned out, after all, to be nothing. Maybe it was time for them to reach out again, to return to community again. It was a task for another day (Sabine had stayed up all night repairing the speeder bike she borrowed and the weariness had finally caught up to them), but one that should come to pass nonetheless.

Sabine let their eyelids, heavy with the weight of all they still had to accomplish, flutter shut. Before passing into dreams, they remembered the way his crooked smile twisted up at the corner of his mouth. Sabine let themself grin, too. 

I will never forget you, vod’ika.

(Image Description under the cut)

(Image Description: A mountain range in the distance, enveloped in shadow. It is sunrise, and the sun’s orange rays blend into a sky of deep purple. Constellations of stars dot the sky en masse. A shooting star burns through the center of the image as a single, thin, white streak.)

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.)

@generalspectre​ // Hera Syndulla

Hera  still,  after  two  years  of  peace,  struggled  with  the  idea  of  quiet  nights.  With  Jacen  sleeping  quietly  in  his  bunk,  they  sat  on  the  ramp,  cup  of  Ryl  tea  in  hand.  If  she  closed  her  eyes  she  could  feel  like  she  was  home.  They  heard  the  speeder  bike  before  they  saw  it  and  their  lekku  perked  when  they  recognized  the  painted  Mandalorian  armor.  “  Sabine  !!  “  they  called,  tea  forgotten  as  she  jumped  up,  moving  down  the  rest  of  the  ramp  to  wait  outside  the  ship.    Maybe  it  wouldn’t  be  as  quiet  as  she  originally  thought. 

@call-me-spectre-five​​  

After a long night of thought, Sabine had made up their mind. Surely Hera had understood their need for time and space, but the grieving period was finally drawing to a close. Of course, the pain would always stick with her, but the best thing they could do now was surround themself with those that truly loved them. She needed to remember what it was like to be loved, and to practice it in full. The war had taken so much from her, had stripped her of friends and family members alike, but at least there were still a few people left that cared. As they had hoped, their surprise visit was well-retrieved.

“Hera!” They pulled each other into an embrace and Sabine allowed herself-- for the first time in weeks-- to truly feel held.

“Thought you could use some company. How are you and Jacen? And Kanan?” 

generally-scheming​ // Armitage Hux

“I prefer documentaries, actually,”  Hux replied through a faint sneer.  “The linear progression of history. Cause and effect laid out in rational sequence. No cheap gimmicks or red herrings.”  He punctuated his answer with a sip of wine to underscore his disdain for this entire conversation.   (Which was growing by the second, now that they had indicated they were too well-versed in these games of intrigue to hand him any more free intelligence.)

He scoffed openly at Wr— at Sabine’s choice of words. No one who had ever met Brendol Hux would call him dignified, not even his friends. Nor could she begin to imagine what it had been like to grow up in Brendol’s shadow, and Armitage had no intention of illuminating her.  “Oh, bereft, yet I might just be able to hold back my tears for love of the Empire.” 

He narrowed his eyes. They were toying with him, dragging out the exchange to watch him squirm. Her opening gambit had been a threat; that meant she would give him nothing unless he offered something more valuable than she believed her   (yet to be substantiated)   blackmail to be. He had to determine their price — continuing to play would only benefit them, not Hux. So he cut straight to the point.  “But you’re right. You are obviously not here to ask after my father’s good health, so what do you want?”

_

The admission almost brought a huff of laughter to pass their lips. Of course he would. Never one to have a little fun now and again. Sabine could tell by now that he was growing impatient (irritable? resentful? at any rate, he was even more tightly-wound than she could have hoped for). His attempt to cut past the foreplay of it all was almost impressive-- if it wasn’t solely for his own gain. He wouldn’t attempt to harm the Mandalorian yet, so long as they proved to be useful. And she had a feeling that the clock was ticking.

“You’d certainly be right on that front, general.” She examined the drink before cautioning another sip, attempting to hint at the contempt they both shared for the man. Ah, but he seemed unamused and unwilling to bait the hook. Perhaps that conversation would have to wait for another, more opportune time...

“Besides the sheer pleasure of drinking with you, I did have a question. Armitage, indulge me, would you? Does anyone else know about your sleeping arrangements with the holonet reporter Alton Kastle?”

l  closed starter  l  @versios

It had been a few weeks since Sabine talked with the commander, and they were starting to grow anxious. It had taken longer than usual to hear news lately (the ship’s subspace transceiver had been fidgety, especially in the Outer Rim), but she had finally found out about the tragedy at Hosk Station. They had frequented it during their travels and couldn’t imagine the toll it took, the millions of lives lost.They felt the need to help in whatever way the Rebellion would have her, and Commander Versio was one of the leaders she felt most connected with. Of course, they were not very communicative with anyone anymore, but this woman seemed to share similar experiences with the Empire and Rebellion as themself. It seemed that she had an outlook very similar to her own, and Sabine really did appreciate that. 

It was a quick message they sent, just a little holo-recording taken while in mid-flight. A short update about the course of events over the last few rotations, as well as a request near the end of the transmission.

“...Commander, if there is any way to aid the Rebellion at this time, I will be prepared to answer at your call.”

❝  what’s with that look ?  ❞ ( from kallus / cptfulcrum )

@cptfulcrum

“Hm?” Sabine asked, looking up from where the loth-cat had just torn apart some old papers of theirs. The documents themselves weren’t too important, but it was a hassle to clean up, nonetheless. “Oh, nothing. Blue is just making a mess again.” They lifted the cat so Kallus could see him over the holo-call, “But the little troublemaker says hi! Say hey, Blueberry!” They grinned, and scratched the small furball between his ears. “I think he likes you, Kallus.”

@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?”

swishycapes​ // Lando Calrissian

although upon previous encounters, it had been lando’s instinct to continue to treat her like the young teen that he had initially met them as, he was aware on some level now that sabine was an adult. it was enough to prevent him from dissuading her from engaging in some of the more adult-like activities of the evening. if anything, it just happened to make it more amusing.

“well, about time you recognize me as your friend,” he remarked with a chuckle, throwing his arm around her shoulders with a squeeze. “you could pass on that attitude to some of your friends, you know,” he grinned.

“i can think of a few. the one that will be the most fun will require at least a few more companions and a deck of cards. think you could gather up some people?”

Oya, that reply was so stupid! Obviously, he was her friend! Who else would share this many drinks with the Mandalorian? Who else would know the best drinking games? Lando was no favorite among any of the Ghost Crew, but they did know how to have fun! Some other people had already tried to get her to stop consuming so much alcohol, but that was just because they didn’t want Sabine to enjoy the night. Probably thought they were still a little kid. Hmph. At least he knew better! So, at their instructions, she grabbed another dessert and made for the promenade across from the ever-shifting crowd.

“Oh, no problem! Be right back!” They shouted, already halfway across the gallery, waving back with a clueless guffaw.