L  Closed Starter  L  @mvchinery​

@cravked​ // Trilla Suduri

even if she no longer felt any kind of loyalty to the empire, or any dependency on the dark side of the force like she had for so long, it would have been a foolish mistake to label trilla as a nice, friendly person. there was still empathy that blossomed inside of her chest, a desire to help people that she did not like to admit existed, but she was all rough edges on the exterior, intense stares and snappy comments that weren’t necessarily underlain with some kind of care. many pieces of who she had been in the past had been recovered in the last two years of isolation and healing, but there were some aspects of her people skills that still needed work.

navigating their way back to the city is no particular challenge for her. although trilla was not particularly familiar with the area, her senses were especially sharp with the use of the living force around her, sensing problems long before they could arise and correcting appropriately. there’s not much of a nicer place to stop in front of, given where they were. but it was water and food, and a chance for the other to get some assistance better for their own long-term goals.

“no.” it wasn’t an interesting answer by any means as trilla stepped inside of the cantina, glancing back to make sure that they were still following. “i don’t like crowds,” she offered as some half-assed explanation, the truth infinitely more complicated than anything that she was willing to explain to a stranger. but despite the lack of interest that she’d displayed before, she did have some questions for them, waiting until they had seated in an otherwise empty corner. “so what’s someone with armor like that doing stuck in the middle of nowhere?” she knew their reputation, at least. “bounty gone wrong?”

At the mention of their armor, she froze. Once content to explain the significance of the metal, the pride that came with bearing its weight, Sabine now bit the inside of their cheek. After...after everything that had happened to Mandalore, the only strangers that asked questions were the ones who saw the metal she bore as a prize, a husk to be shucked and taken as spoils of war. So often these people thought her disposable, some sick challenge to defeat in order to stake their claim to the only piece of her family she had left. It was a move more than one piece of bantha shit had tried to pull on them before. Trilla didn’t seem like a person with ill intentions; they appeared to be a fatigued traveler, just as herself. But the Mandalorian had been wrong before, and the price for this kind of misjudgment was not forgiving.

“Something like that, yeah.” They exhaled thickly, glancing now across the restaurant, scanning for threats. For escape routes. Their breathing quickened as she remembered all of the times she’d been trapped in places like this. Was it safe here? Was someone after them? Who was this person at the table in front of her, to offer their help and accept no thanks? Muscles tensed, and Sabine forced their breathing to slow down. 

Think, chakaar. You can’t keep yourself safe if you’re not calm. The Empire isn’t here. Just talk.

“I came here on the good word of a friend, looking for information. But, all I got was a busted speeder bike and a waste of my ship’s fuel.” A hush fell as Sabine thought of the lightsaber hilt, lying in wait on Trilla’s waist. Flashbacks of the scarlet blades, of eyes filled with hatred and hearts without mercy. Being hunted ruthlessly as a child, guilty by association. Being hunted now. Fingers drummed anxiously on the table. Surely the person in front of her couldn’t be-- If they’d wanted to kill her, they would have done it by now.

“What about you? Can I ask how you found yourself in this backwater system?”

Investigation at Hosk

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

“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

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.”

l  closed starter  l  @finitefm

Flashes of gold glinted through blackened beskar as they approached, and Sabine’s apprehension grew. She was grateful, of course, but they couldn’t help but choke on their anxiety at the presence of one so revered. It was jarring, speaking the name of a legend with such casual nature. Though the initial shock of meeting them had passed, her nerves did not. After all, there weren’t many Mandalorians left, and Sabine had played their part in the genocide well enough. If this Mand’alor knew what they had done... So many nights Sabine had grappled with her worthiness to belong to the people they had helped slaughter, and still she toed that line with every sun’s rise and set. No matter the planet beneath their feet, always was that battle playing itself out in her mind. Carrying this anxiety, she greeted them with the familiar intimacy of clasp on arm, flash of a toothy smile.

“Tarre! It’s nice to see such familiar beskar, and better to see the one who fills it.” Eyelashes flitted even as she tried to hide the apprehension rolling in their stomach. “I appreciate you making the trek all the way out here. This Imperial hut’unn has evaded the New Republic for too long.”

Words started to stick together and bottles seemed more empty than before. Something in the room had shifted, and everything seemed a few degrees too thin. The world was stretched, but at least it was still funny...right? 

“’scuse me--” The less-than-noble warrior asked of the blurred figure on their left. “but d’ya know--”

--where the closest fresher is? Or, that’s what she meant to ask. But, when the stranger turned to face her, what came out instead was a faint squeak and...

“kriff, you’re beautiful!”

Ah, fuck. Did she really just say that out loud? 

@hopejedi​

l  closed starter  l  @inspiringgreatness​

Sabine’s fingers trembled with the ship’s communication system, struggling to find the right frequency for their old friend. The last thing she wanted to do was bother such an important and busy figure with something as trivial as this, but they didn’t know who else to turn to. Finally, the hum of static softened into a dull purr, and she sat down with a sigh. The light on the holo camera blinked blue to let them know it had begun recording.

“H-hey. Hey, Ahsoka. It’s Sabine.”

Idiot. As if she couldn’t already tell. 

“Look, I really don’t want to bother you, and you don’t have to answer this message. But, I--” they sighed, hugging her knees to their chest.

“I just didn’t really know who else to talk to, I guess? I mean, I just don’t feel ready to talk to Hera or Kanan, or...well, anyone, about it.” 

(Or about anything, really.)

“ Look, I’ve just been thinking about Ezra a lot lately, and, I don’t know, I thought maybe you had too, and, maybe we could talk about it together? O-or not. That’s okay, too.”

Sabine paused, breath catching in her throat and stomach swelling with regret. Ahsoka didn’t need to be concerned with this. She was a Jedi once, and she had probably dealt with scenarios worse than this in the Clone Wars. What was Sabine even doing?

“On second thought, I’m sorry. I-I don’t mean to. To, uh. To take up your time.  you’re probably really busy. I really hope you’re doing well. Stay safe.”

Sabine hastily reached forward and switched the channel off then stifled the racking sob clawing its way up her throat. 

sacreficied​ // Kanan Jarrus

so much had happened over the course of their lives together as ghost crew that had been unpredictable, so many things to be grateful for –– and yet, nothing struck him quite the same as listening the others speak about the time that he was dead. kanan imagined that the other jedi he had spoken to must have felt in a similar way, the apprehension tightly wound with gratitude. he would not look at a gift like this with lack of appreciation, though there were things about it that he questioned.

“it’s easy to get caught up in the things that we’ve lost. you weren’t around for it, but you know that i did for years.” the circumstances had been different, but after sixty-six, he’d never stopped to appreciate that he was alive, that he still had his wits about him. it had taken time to appreciate hera, too. “i’m… i’m doing well. seeing the order restored has given me hope that i didn’t know i needed. for ezra, and for jacen. i know that there will be some who don’t approve or understand of… all of this,” he gestured loosely with his hand at nothing in particular, meaning ghost crew as a whole. “but even with the order’s stance on attachment, i think it makes me a better jedi.”

.

Silence weighed between them as Sabine listened to their friend’s admittance of his past actions. He’d never spent much time talking about what had happened before he found Hera, and she didn’t blame him. She didn’t respond to his words, but nodded, just taking time to listen. Years of petty arguments and bickering made it easy to forget how alike the two could be. 

“You know I don’t know much about the Jedi beyond what you and Ezra have shared with me--” she started, combing through words and phrases with caution. “But, it’s almost funny, right? I mean, the core beliefs of the mando’ade are all about family and connection. And the Jedi are supposed to distance themselves from that kind of emotion, right?”

They hesitated, offering a small, sad smile (though she knew he couldn’t see it). They bumped her boot against his, trying to keep the energy from sinking.

“It may be kinda unorthodox, but I think it works. I think we all make each other better...And, for what it’s worth, I think you’re doing the right thing. Rebuilding the Jedi and committing to the people you care about. Who care about you. Against our better judgement,” she teased. 

This party had done its job to draw in more familiar faces than Sabine had expected (some more welcome than others). Still, the warmth running through their body kept her from doing anything to trouble old foes. It was a party, and the Mandalorian was sure everyone was in need of a good time right now. Who cares if they had slighted her in the past? Now was a time for good music, good food, and good drinks.

Turning a gilded corner, they noticed the smirk of someone she hadn’t seen in years. They considered ducking away, but it was too late. The figure had already spotted her and waved them over.

“Lando. Can’t say I’m surprised to see you here. This is kind of your scene, isn’t it?”

@swishycapes​ 

generally-scheming​ // Armitage Hux

Another ostentatious gala. Hux had no choice but to attend now that the Hapes Consortium’s alliance with the New Republic posed a threat. This time Hux kept to the shadows at the edge of the party, only listening — and certainly not eating or drinking anything he was offered. As Hux checked the time, his shoulders tensed. He’d heard of the preposterous New Republic tradition of kissing as the clock struck midnight, and he knew Alton Kastle was at this party. He hoped the reporter would not be foolish enough to try something so incriminating in public. Sure enough, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Hux mentally prepared his ‘we mustn’t, not here, we can’t be seen,’ but as soon as he turned he stopped dead.

“Not you.”

.

Sabine should have expected he’d be at a party like this. Nothing like a gala to bring out both the best and worst in the galaxy. They shouldn’t have been surprised when she noticed the general standing on the edges of the party, no doubt sulking too much to enjoy a drink or two. Pity.

“What’s wrong, Armitage? Expecting someone else?”

She took a short sip from the drink poised delicately in their hand. Something light and fruity, and nothing too alcoholic; there was work to be done, after all. But that plot wouldn’t be set in motion for another hour or two. For now, they had time to mill around, to act as though she wasn’t standing on the bones of her people.

“That’s, what, two dates now? And still no first kiss. I’m starting to feel like you don’t like me, Armitage.”