Sacreficied​ // Kanan Jarrus

@cptfulcrum​ // Alexsandr Kallus

You  deserve  that.  Through  the  war  there  was  nothing  he  thought  he  deserved  more  than  a  prison  cell.  As  Fulcrum  he  had  done  some  good.  That  he  could  acknowledge.  It  was  the  only  thing  that  kept  him  waking  up  for  almost  a  year,  the  only  true  purpose  that  kept  him  at  bay.  He  had  done  more  when  he  had  truly  defected,  become  a  full  fledged  member  of  the  Rebellion.  But  so  many  people  had  seen  the  error  of  their  ways  before  he  had,  refused  to  cross  a  line  that  made  them  that  terrible  person  he  had  known  he  was.  Sabine  had  left  the  Imperial  Academy  when  they  learned  what  their  weapons  were  being  used  for.  They  had  morals.  It  had  taken  him  far  longer.  

Still,  the  words  coming  from  The  Mandalorian  are  said  with  good  intentions  and  he  smiles  a  little,  tipping  his  head  in  thanks.  In  truth,  he  would  have  done  anything  that  Garazeb  had  asked  him  to  afterwards.  He  wasn’t  willing  to  throw  one  of  the  only  good  things  in  his  life  away.  Even  if  the  thought  of  going  to  Lira  San  would  have  turned  his  insides,  had  he  known  before  they  arrived.  He  supposed  that’s  why  it  remained  a  secret  to  no  one  but  him.  “  The  war  has  changed  us  all  so  much,  hasn’t  it  ??  “  he  questioned  vaguely,  turning  away  from  them.  All  of  their  friends  and  loved  ones  had  been  scarred,  some  more  than  others,  but  The  Empire.  Even  at  its  end  there  was  still  pain.  So  much  unknown.  “  do  Mandalorians  long  for  peace  like  many  do  ??  “  he  asked.  “  Because  I  think  you  deserve  it  too,  if  you  want  it.  “  

He  looked  down  as  she  continued,  not  able  to  speak  as  the  words  faded  between  them.  He  felt  a  little  like  he  was  betraying  Zeb  by  looking  into  Thrawn’s  movements,  that  he  was  pushing  away  the  home  that  they  had  made  together.  It  wasn’t  that,  never  that,  but  he  needed  to  do  something  after  Ezra’s  death.  He  couldn’t  watch  the  mourning  of  his  closest  friend  any  longer.  “  It  is  okay  to  be…..  Struggling.  “  he  finally  decided  was  the  word,  looking  back  at  her.  “  I  know  I  have  been,  as  Zeb  has.  “  he  admitted.  “  Lately  I’ve  felt  restless.  I  want  throw  myself  back  into  something,  though  I  didn’t  know  what.  “  Even  as  he  tells  Sabine  that  it’s  okay  to  be  hurting,  he’s  admitting  that  he’s  attempted  to  ignore  all  of  that  for  action.  It  was  a  typical  imperial  response.  Again,  his  decades  of  training  back  at  the  forefront  of  his  world.  “  Zeb  would  be  happy  to  see  you,  if  you  wished  to  come  visit.  “  he  finally  said.  

Heavy emotion clouded the air between them, and silence counted itself as a member of the conversation. Sabine’s lips upturned into a small, wistful smile. They hesitated while their friend spoke what he needed to, and nodded when he was done.

“...I think we all reach for peace, Kallus, but in different ways. Some people, not just my own, think the best way to order is through spilled blood. I used to think the same.”

She paused. They could feel the emotion radiating off him, as much as he tried to guard himself against it. She wasn’t nearly as intuitive as their Jedi friends, but she knew the guilt and shame he grappled with. She recognized the hollow gaze in his eyes when he talked about the toll of war.

“Thank you, for coming all the way out here, for finding me.” They considered his words, still weighted on the air. You deserve it, too. She let that settle within her and instead decided to address the other part of his assurances.” I know I’m not in any place to give advice, but....I understand the need to keep working, to bury yourself in it. Really, I do. But, I’ve been learning-- there’s a fine line between keeping the people you love safe and abandoning them altogether.” 

So much went unsaid between the two, and she hoped he felt the same understanding in the commas, the sentiment in between words.

“Kallus, if time and place permitted, I would love to visit you both on Lira San someday.” To see the home you’ve made together. “But, until then, how do you feel about getting a drink?”

gcdlys​ // Ursa Wren

Sabine’s stillness slowed her slightly, gaze careful as she stopped a foot or so away from them. Clear shock, teary eyes, so much older - Ursa knew that the time she had missed must have held nothing good for her, for her family. A protective feeling rose up in her chest, fiercely defensive. Whatever had happened, she was here now. And she would not leave so quickly.

“Of course, ad’ika.” It was not an endearment she often used, reserved for when she thought her children needed most comfort. (And frankly, she had usually let Alrich handle the comforting. He was far better at it than she ever had been.) Her free hand flexed at her side, half reaching out to them and half reserved. “I’m alright, Sabine.”

It didn’t make sense. Mandalore, Krownest, they were in ruins. The only reason she hadn’t died in the Purge was because she’d been on the other end of the galaxy with another family. They’d long ago left hope for Clan Wren behind because it hurt too much. It hurt now, seeing the parent they’d given up on standing before her.

“Mom, I spent so much time running when I. I should have... I should have looked for you, and Dad, and Tristan’ika. I’m so sorry, I should have looked harder, should have--”

She couldn’t stop the words from tripping over their tongue, the tears from staining the careful paint of their mother’s armor as she accepted the outstretched arm, pulled themself into Ursa’s arms.

“D’you, er? Have you-- I mean.” A gasp of air between the tears, guilt consuming every fibre in her body.  “Have you found anyone else? Tristan, or Father?”

// sabine’s graffiti mix: a little playlist for my favorite mandalorian

(songs listed below)

listen here!

- Sabine’s Theme ~ Star Wars Lofi // SuperDope

- space girl // Frances Forever

- Bad Reputation // Joan Jett & The Blackhearts

- Weird Girl // Mommy Long Legs

- Pray For Me (ft. Kendrick Lamar) // The Weeknd, Kendrick Lamar

- R.I.P. 2 My Youth // The Neighbourhood

- Cherry Bomb // The Runaways

- What’s Up Danger // Blackway, Black Caviar

- Celebrity Skin // Hole

- Gender Binary (Fuck You) // Ryan Cassata

- Chaotic Gender Neutral // Murder Person for Hire

- Rebel Girl // Bikini Kill

- Homemade Dynamite // Lorde

- Empires on Fire // BANNERS

- Smells Like Teen Spirit // Nirvana

- Seven Nation Army // The White Stripes

- Am I A Girl? // Poppy

- Cigarette Ahegao // Penelope Scott

- Hayloft // Mother Mother

- I Was a Teenage Anarchist // Against Me!

- bury a friend // Billie Eilish

- Home // Vance Staples, Richie Kohan

- Dear Fellow Traveller // Sea Wolf

- Andromeda // Weyes Blood

- i need to be alone. // girl in red

- After the War // Reinaeiry

- The Mandalorian // The Hyphenate

- Rebels Theme // Kevin Kiner

- Sabine Wren // AtinPiano

@beskarbuir​ // din djarin

──   GAZES  BEAR  DOWN  UPON  THE  PAIR,  and he wonders exactly how much better he would fare in his old,  heavily worn armor.   perhaps the attention wouldn’t have lessened with such an acquaintance at his side,  but here the unmarked chrome reflectes her colors in such a way,  it makes them a most obvious pair.  the stressor is felt on both fronts,  kept secret between the two as rolling anxiety feeds from each other in a cycle.   they move closely  ─  but not too close,  rendering a strange pack formation where there’s equal safety and danger in their numbers.   one protecting the other. 

the ‘t’ of his visor is kept leveled,  knowing that an air of aloofness and the history behind tinted transparisteel deterred stares.   ❝  a little bit.  ❞   the words are coupled with one shoulder’s shrug.   this was a place he only passed through,  leaving just a brief sighting for children to whisper amongst each other.   yet one sweep through the village is enough to know that there’s little for the agent to hide in;  an odd choice for someone of moderate renown.

canting their head to the side,  they lead them to a couple vendors with pre-empire scraps to sell.   with a step forward they flick through dialects until common ground is found,  evident in how the seller lilts her head in recognition and leans forward.   between them a few probing questions flitter, a few credits discreetly traded  ( he scowls to himself for how little he can bribe with ),  until he finally turns to his kind with a breath.   ❝  there’s some rumor of a mechanic shop acting as a front,  toward the south.  ❞  plenty of supplies for makeshift weapons,  maybe some workers in on their dealings,  or it could be just that:  a rumor.   thoughts the other were filtering through too,  no doubt.   ❝  think it’s a lead ?  ❞

“I think it’s worth checking out before we run out of sunslight.” Or before someone tips off the bounty, they thought to themself. She could tell the other was thinking it, too. This kind of risk always posed itself, the concern of some low-life selling out someone they knew then warning them of impending capture. It had happened with the Ghost crew more than once, with friends and enemies alike. 

The walk carried a weight of silence. There was no hum of twin engines to separate them anymore, no rushing terrain to interrupt their stillness. It settled itself neatly over the pair (something Sabine suspected the other Mandalorian was quite used to). She could be, too, when the time arose. But, it was always easier for them to fill the void of quiet with sound. A song or a conversation soothed their nerves more than the absence of ever could. 

“Your beskar’gam and spear are...quite striking. For all the years it’s been since I re-forged my armor, there’s been little time it hasn’t seen color. Some days I could almost forget the grooves of pure metal. Mesh’la.” 

They put the comment out there, open for commentary, or just to be held by the two. If this warrior wanted to speak, the invitation was there. If not, that was just as well. Her companion seemed the type to enjoy silence, so their nonresponse would be just as accepted as conversation. Besides, the two were nearing the workshop, which now stood visible on the horizon through a shimmer of heat.

This night was exactly what Sabine needed. After months of...well, everything that had happened, this feeling was nothing short of a fucking miracle. So, they figured, might as well ride the high while it was here. Let tomorrow’s problems belong to tomorrow; today was for good company. And speaking of...

They spotted the twi’lek out of the corner of her eye, a nervous parent standing away from the prying eyes and hot bodies of the crowd. The garden outside was quieter, and well-lit with strings of lights. A striking contrast to their dark jumper. The weightlessness of whatever she had consumed carried them over, prompted them to pull Hera into embrace.

“Heraaaaa! Haar’chak, buir, I can’t you actually came!” They giggled and downed another shot, offering one to the mentor in front of her. “You look stunning.”

@generalspectre​ 

@beskarbuir​ // din djarin

──   A  HIDDEN  SMILE  FLICKERS,  hinted at with the slightest incline of the helm,  likely read with ease.  well  …  he wouldn’t regard tatooine so harshly,  but he’s known the threats of the land and remains gratuitous towards tuskens who had made traversing such a place bearable.   maybe even agreeable,  while in their company.   the hunter takes heed,  carefully considering her words,  noting how she flutters on the topic.   ‘ just something to keep the ship flying and stomach full, you know ? ’  he understands this well  ─  the mutual circumstance of earning their keep.   she spoke more than he would have,  offered more than he would have,  and he tucks that observation away;  the smallest fraction of himself acquiesces to trust.   even so,  half-curled hands at the sides indicate a wariness imprinted upon him over the years. 

at her proposal,  a tongue runs along the back of his teeth,  as if counting.   most similar situations ended with undesired outcomes,  something he’d been extraordinarily unlucky with in recent memory.   however,  the most invaluable allies had been gained through coaction.   din holds her most visible weapons under scrutiny:  a reasonable personal arsenal, though admittedly,  the beskar would be more than enough.   the bounty wasn’t meager,  either,  and the final confrontation had a chance to languish.  a pause is given to measure the odds. 

pragmatism eventually tides suspicion.  ❝  if we did, it’ll be a quick job for both of us.  ❞  they briefly glance to the horizon,  the destination,  the coming pursuit.  ❝   …  even split in earnings,  and there’s a deal.  ❞

The agreement came quickly. Half the credits each, and the bounty was as good as secured. Sabine had even offered to throw in a bottle of spotchka for the other if the target was acquired before sunsdown. After all, hunting didn’t have to be just business. Why not add a little bit of fun to an already interesting situation?

It had taken a little over an hour’s ride to meet the signal on the tracking fob. The near-endless sand wastes led them to a dusty village good for little more than moisture farming and aggrandized storytelling. Still, by the looks of the settlements, the decorations on doors, there seemed to be immigrants from planets all across the galaxy. It was a good place for refugees to hide out without prying eyes (even the ex-ISB agent they were looking for). Sabine felt a jolt of unease at the size of the town. She really didn’t like endangering innocents if it could be avoided. 

As they trekked through a bustling marketplace, Sabine couldn’t help but notice the stares the two attracted. No doubt one Mandalorian in this corner of the planet was a rarity, let alone two. She was used to these looks, the glares accumulated from childhood on. From the painted beskar’gam to their ever-changing hair (now concealed neatly beneath a similarly colorful helmet), it was easy to draw attention. For just a moment, they wondered if the other warrior felt the same way, if attention hounded at his heels no matter where they traveled. In her experience, it was far easier to be alone. Not just easier, but safer. Still, there was a job to finish (and perhaps an allyship to be formed).

“Time to get to work. You happen to know the area any better than I do, by chance?”

❛  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."

cravked​ // Trilla Suduri

death was a mercy. that was the only reason that trilla was not bothered by the ancient lightsabers that were on display alongside the mandalorian armor, and other artifacts. anger radiated off of the person beside her, impossible to miss. it was the kind of thing that had been contagious at one point, but they did not struggle to keep their cool now. their gaze looked her up and down for a moment, pulling in a deep breath through their nose.

“thousands of years ago, the mandalorians colonized and the jedi slaughtered a part of their people. of course they want to put it on display now, to show how far they’ve come in spite of that.” trilla had never hd a problem with pointing out the fault of the jedi, that certainly wasn’t going to change now, even as they found theirself drifting closer and closer to the light. she gave a shrug of her shoulders at the apology. “your anger doesn’t bother me.”

.

The history of war, Sabine knew well. No winners came from war, only pain and death. War was a game of loss, for all parties involved. The trick was figuring out how to deal with it. A trick they still didn’t know how to pull off. Her people had done terrible things, she had done terrible things, but that didn’t stop the resentment from swelling in their gut.

“It’s hard to ignore the brutality of it all. My people, we... There’s pieces of Mandalorian history that I’m not proud of, pieces I would never condone, of course. But to invite us here only to take away our weapons, our sacred armor, and then parade a claim of peace? It’s...” They needed to change the subject, needed distraction from the fire coursing through her body. “But, anyways. You, uh. You look nice, Trilla.”

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

❛  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.”