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.”
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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.
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. “
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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?
@lcstpadawan // Cal Kestis
mini plot starter for @call-me-spectre-five -
okay, so this isn’t ideal. it actually really kind of sucks, if cal’s honest. but - but, okay, he’s definitely faced worse. he can definitely deal with this. he’d spent years working through scrap piles and ruined ships and managed to find something useful, he can do it again. besides, he did all that without bd1 - he’s got the droid’s company and help now. they should be fine.
“hey - are you good with mechanics?” he asks vaguely as he kneels down at a heap of scrap from their now blown up ship, glancing over at his company. he knows bits and pieces about mandalorians, knows they love their weapons but he’s not sure how used to working with scrap and ruined equipment they are. hopefully if he can find enough stuff for them to work with, the two of them will be able to make something decent out of it. “i mean - i’m not half-bad, and this little guy here is a genius, but i’m pretty sure we’re gonna have to get.. kind of creative to get out of this.”
Fuck, it never got old. The running and hiding, the ducking from shrapnel and gritting teeth through the ringing in your ears. Sabine’s partner on this mission was more calm than she felt, spoke with more clarity than they ever could. How could he hold his breath more steady? Shit, they had seen explosions, had caused them for years, but it was something else entirely to be the victim of one. Something else that made her hands taut, made their armor feel heavier on the chest. No ship. No way to tell for sure who the enemies here were. And no backup.
It’s okay, Sabine. You can handle this. You’ve dealt with worse odds before.
There was a task at hand, an investigation to pursue, and that was something to focus on. Something to control. Steady the breathing. Feel the tips of your fingers, count the scratches on your armor. Smile (even if it doesn’t feel quite right), and let it drip into your voice, another mask behind the visor.
“Creative? I can do creative.”
And with that, they got to work. The two pulled from scraps and fragments of ruined engines and broken motivators, making light their labor. Sabine could specialize in mechanics when they felt like it, but damn did this guy and his droid understand how to work with the least. It was impressive.
“Osi’kyr! Cal, look at this. I think I found something.”
tarre says ... ❛ i keep on hoping nothing has changed . ❜
“Yeah, me too.” She sat in the expanse of sand next to them, staring into the dying embers of the campfire. A solemn weight pressed itself against the two Mandalorians. It was inevitable, she knew, but having another set of shoulders to carry the load was reassuring. “I never knew ghosts could weigh so heavily on a heart.”
@finitefm
@cravked // trilla suduri
her eyes rolled after the stranger’s comment, not quite believing it –– not that there was anything necessarily inherently wrong with what they were saying, but the mere fact that trilla did not think it was remotely possible that she could remind someone of a younger brother. there was nothing about them in general that would particularly be like that, she thought. nothing endearing or whatever else people thought about siblings. she didn’t know particularly much about what traditional family dynamics looked like.
“i wouldn’t know, i never knew my family,” trilla answered with a shrug of her shoulders. it had never mattered to her as a child because that was just the way things were in the jedi temple. there were other younglings, the masters, but nothing by blood.
gaze tilted over toward them, her gaze narrowing slightly and looking at her a bit closer. “what about me reminds you of him?” she doesn’t care, if it were the truth –– but she doesn’t entirely believe that they were being wholly honest with her, and that was what she was much more interested in.
The answer Trilla gave wasn’t entirely surprising. Terrible, yes, but not unexpected. For years, the Empire had choked the galaxy from the innermost cities of the Core Worlds all the way to the Outer Rim. The time was a ruthless one, full of orphans and hungry hands. But something about the quickness, the coolness, with which she answered the question dug into Sabine. Still, Trilla expected a response, and Sabine wasn’t one to deny her that after the personal question she, herself had just asked.
“He was...a quiet kid. Incredibly smart, but sometimes he’d go days without speaking.” Sabine allowed themself a smile, stumbling through past memories. “He grew out of it, mostly, but even when we were still learning the six tenets of the resol’nare, he would listen more than speak. When he did, though, you knew that what he had to say was important. The most I ever heard from him was...” They took a breath, remembering the cold greetings back on Krownest years ago. The planet’s icy temperature hadn’t been the only thing to bring a chill to her skin that day.
“Anyways, you seem to share that similar stillness. The looking before jumping. The taste for observation. If you don’t mind my saying so.”
They looked over at their walking partner to gauge her reaction. The two were both hesitant of each other, but Sabine wanted to show that she could be open to trust. It didn’t come freely (not by a long shot) but Trilla had been nothing but helpful so far. The Mandalorian might as well attempt the same courtesy.
“And, he had a real sense of humor, though he didn’t always realize it.” They grinned crookedly. “The little mir’sheb. So, I’m sure you can understand the resemblance there.”
sacreficied // Kanan Jarrus
there had been a long time when kanan did not have to concern him about attachment for others. in the period between the order falling and hera finding him, there had been no one for him to attach himself to. the order hadn’t cared about sex, and he’d never let anyone or anything be more than that. but as he had regained his connection with the force, began to incorporate that into his life again… attachment and connection was something that he had thought a lot about.
“kind of,” he paused for a moment before offering more information. “we’re not supposed to let it control us –– attachment, or love itself, or… the fear of losing it control or guide us. it’s easier said than done.” he tried to live by that, still. it was why years ago he’d told ezra to take over, well aware that his attempts to save hera would be affected by his love for her.
still, kanan did not regret a thing. if it came to a choice, he would choose hera and the rest of his family. he’d always been the ‘ do as i say, not as i do ’ type anyway. “well, no one ever said any of us were wise,” he quipped back with a grin of his own cracking across his features.
Sabine listened with a focused intent as he spoke, trying to make meaning of her friend’s words. For all of the jokes and bullshit banter, they did like hearing Kanan talk. Liked learning about his creed and the family he once belonged to.
“‘Easier said then done.’ That should be our crew’s tagline, huh?”
They paused on the notions of love and control and possession and guidance. She traced through their memories, wondering just how many actions had been driven by the desire to protect someone they cared about. More, it seemed, were inspired by the instinct than not. Whether it made them smart, or wise, she couldn’t say. Mandalorian or Jedi, everyone had to find a way to cope with the inevitability of feeling.
“Y’know, if I had to bet my money on the wisest of us, it’d probably be Hera. Sometimes I think they’re smarter then all of us combined.”
cptfulcrum // alexsandr kallus
“ I have a request, if you’re up for it. “ His face is neutral, but there’s a nervous way that his eyes twitch to the datapad down at his hands that would show to someone that knows him, like Sabine, that the request is not simply work related. “ If not, I am hoping you can point me in the right direction of someone who can help. “
@call-me-spectre-five
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With a youthful smirk that her mother would have chided at, Sabine rolled their eyes. “Kallus, how long have we been friends?” But instead of waiting for an answer, she proceeded with the same humor. “Years, di’kut. You’ve been a pain in my ass for years.” Then, noticing the anxiety he carried, the fluttering of eyelashes, fingertips-- she stilled, reaching to place their hand over his own. Hoping to provide some fraction of reassurance. Voice quieter and slower, they answered, eyes never wavering from his gaze. “Hey, you’re my friend. Of course I’m gonna help you. What can I do?”
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.
generally-scheming // Armitage Hux
“They work for me,” Hux snapped. His teeth ground together when the Mandalorian had no answers for him. That scared him most of all — the explosions, the carnage, even the New Republic’s fickle new allies opening fire on their guests paled in comparison to the threat of an unknown enemy. Under other circumstances, any enemy of the New Republic was a potential ally, but the alien warriors did not stop to ask questions as they sliced through the crowd with frightening efficiency. “Call me ‘sweetheart’ one more time and I might just change my mind about not killing you.”
Hux caught the stake with a grimace. “We’ll have to do better than this.” What a joke. Architects of planet-scale superweapons and they were armed with sticks. He ducked under a table, definitely because of tactical advantage and not cowardice. A passing Hapan guard crumbled to the floor when Hux sank the wooden shard into their shin. But they still overpowered Hux when he grabbed at their blaster. He squirmed under their superior strength, grappling for his life. He clawed, he bit, he pulled every dirty trick in the book, and it wasn’t going to be enough. “Wren— Sabine— your new friends are going to kill us all!”
_
The Mandalorian spat out the blood pooling in her mouth, wiping hastily with the back of her hand. Their newfound ally ducked under a table, and Sabine crouched near him, surveying the scene for anything else that could be used as a weapon. A guard approached with hurried hostility, and Sabine watched as Hux plunged the shard into their leg. Not enough to kill.
“As if you could get out of this on your own.” The statement may well prove to be true of her, too. As sour as the thought was, the two needed each other.
The seconds passed in a fervor, and each brought with it clarity: he’d lose without their help. Reluctantly, she sprang at the guard, tackling them and digging the jagged wood into the exposed skin on their neck. Just as soon, a crack! sounded above them, and she dove at Hux, pulling him out of the way of falling rock.
“Think I’m not trying? And they don’t work for me, either, asshole.”
She swore under their breath, brown eyes scanning the scene for a route of escape. The room would be engulfed in flame in just minutes.
“We’ve got to make for the armory. Either give me the blaster or tell me you’re a better shot than you look. We’ve gotta go, now!”
generally-scheming // Armitage Hux
Hux scowled, recollecting her irritating and unprofessional banter during their last battle. It had been a week before the petty officers stopped giggling when they thought he wasn’t looking. His eyes darted around the bistro like a cornered animal. They had positioned themself between him and the exit, and Hux was not fool enough to start a knife fight with a Mandalorian. (Not even one who had foregone beskar for a shimmering gown. At least it met the establishment’s dress code.) The only move was to stay, figure out how much she really knew, and deny everything.
“No.” Hux raised a hand to halt the waiter. “The Merlot from Tal'onidir wineries will do. Two glasses of the most recent vintage.” As they retreated, Hux turned his gaze back on the Mandalorian rebel. “The last vintage, that is, before the vineyard burned. But you know all about that. The Empire would never have brought Mandalore so easily to its knees without your contributions, would they, Wren?”
Hux’s expression soured as the name rolled off his tongue. That syllable came preloaded with animosity for a different target; it felt wrong. He refocused on hiding his mounting anxiety. In conversation as on the battlefield, the best defense was a good offense. “All this wild speculation about my love life, as if I have that kind of time. Does someone have a crush? What ever would your family think? I suppose we’ll never know.”
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His eyes flitted around the room, no doubt searching for exits. But she knew he wouldn’t act so quickly if he didn’t have to. Hux wasn’t the kind to cause a scene if it could be avoided. They could tell he was starting to get defensive. Good. The anger could easily be mistaken for attack, but Sabine could read him better than that. When he snapped, it was out of pure self-preservation. In this way, Sabine disregarded the comment about the wine, shrugging it off with a wave of her hand. They’d done their research and come prepared. She had time for mourning and regret later, but for a man like this? He didn’t deserve any of her emotions. Instead, eyebrows raised in a practiced flirt, an attempt to sow discontent from the growing tension. They reflected on the informants she’d taken weeks to track down, the spies she’d had to weigh truth and lies from. One specific canary came to the forefront of their mind, and she rephrased their words with a gentle lilt.
“Well, it takes two to tango, doesn’t it, Armitage? And from what I hear, you have quite the taste for destruction, yourself. I mean, I can’t help but notice how familiar my surname is to you. Just a letter away, really. You have history with not one Ren, but two, am I right?”
The server returned with the requested bottle, and she nodded thanks as the glasses filled. Though their stomach churned at the idea of savoring something created by the people she’d helped destroy, Sabine didn’t let that sway her attitude. This persona, this mask, it was carefully curated just for him. (And wouldn’t that just flatter him to know?) There was no time to falter.
“Perhaps they wouldn’t be too pleased. But, then, dear old dad wouldn’t be too proud of your wine and dine with a Mandalorian, would he?”
Sabine smirked into their glass, before raising it in a mock toast.
“To forbidden romances.” They whispered, just loud enough for the general to hear. Perhaps that old adage still held some measure of truth. You can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. And even if it wasn’t right, oh, was it fun.
@naboospage // Sache
Naboo was a unique world, and its capital was just as unique in its own way. Saché loved Theed, even if she missed the city’s natural look from her childhood. It had been shaped by the Trade Federation and the Empire, now looking like a whole new city compared to what it used to be. Even with that Saché knew the streets by heart and she led Sabine through places that Saché thought the Mandalorian would love to see. There was a lot of ways to go from the spaceport to the house Yané purchased all these years ago. Saché loved nothing more than changing her path every now and then. She also loved watching how guests reacted to it, finding out that her ideas where the right ones. “We have plenty of space for you, don’t worry!” Sabine’s reactions were definitely rewarding, Saché walked silently to let them enjoy some peaceful time for once. “We’re good,” Saché said fondly. “She knows me better than anyone, so we rarely argue. And when we do it’s more a discussion than a real argument.” Saché knew how lucky she was. They’d been so young when they first met, and their relationship could have been crushed easily by the time they spent apart when Saché was too busy at the assembly. But they held on, being friends first and lovers second. It was still the same four decades later. “Did you find anyone interesting while I wasn’t there?” Her voice was teasing, and she winked. Sabine didn’t have to answer if they weren’t comfortable with it, and Saché wanted them to know it.
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Sabine’s eyes were drawn to the architecture they passed, gaze raising to meet the tops of businesses and homesteads alike. It all looked so delicate, detailed, and intricate. The artists that crafted such marvels deserved praise. It almost reminded them of the towering frescoes of Mandalore. For a place so storied in bloodshed and war, you wouldn’t think it a place as layered with art as any other planet; but, it was there, if only you knew where to look...
Even as they awed, the Mandalorian found themself listening intently to her friend, smiling at the happiness her friend seemed to share with Yane. It was a love well-deserved, after all the women had been through.
“That’s so great to hear, Sache. You’ve always been a fantastic team.”
Her question did tug a bit at their gut, though. Oh, there was someone the Mandalorian had their eyes on, but whether or not she was looking back was the question. Wistfulness passed over Sabine’s face for just a moment before flickering into a smile. They were unsure whether to brush it off with a joke or to be honest. Maybe her friend could help? There was a weird twist in the gut as they responded.
“To be honest, I’m not sure. There’s one person, but.” She exhaled, carding a hand through her hair. “It’s hard to tell if she likes me back. And I don’t know how to tell her...I mean, I don’t know how you and Yane did it,” they laughed, then exhaled heavily. It was weird to talk about, but they knew Sache was a good listener, knew she cared.
Artist. Madalorian. Weapons Master. Rebel. "My friends make the impossible possible." // RP account for galacticshq
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