Thinking About ThemTM

@versios​ // Iden Versio

iden snorted when the suggestion was turned around on her. it wasn’t as though she and del hadn’t talked about that at all, but she didn’t like the toy with the notion too much with others. she had always been a private person by nature and breaking that with inferno squad was about all that she was incapable of. besides, she found her work to be refreshing. she was with her family, that was all that she needed.

“then consider it out of the kindness of my heart that i offer it to you first, wren,” she retorted without missing a beat. a break would come around sooner or later, perhaps once this business with hosk station had settled, or when she felt a little bit better about the progress on finding grand admiral thrawn.

“good, you should make your way over there, then,” she decided with a nod of her head. “i’ll make contact with a few others and see if i can get someone on the ground with you at the same time. the holos have it looked like a disaster down there, so i don’t want even you on your own. i’ll forward you information on who you’re meeting up with once i know.”

Sabine’s lips upturned into a crooked smile, and they nodded. A simple mission with plain objectives ought to clear her head. They’d spent too much time thinking about things outside of their control, too much time on her own. It would do them good to be in the scene of action, to help people again.

“Can do, commander. Got a few errands to run, but it won’t take long.”

She turned to the navi-computer and started working on the calculations. Out of the corner of her eye, they could see her Loth-cat slink back into the cockpit, so she stooped and gave him a scratch between the ears. 

“Thanks again, Iden. Take care of yourself.”

Hopefully, they’d be able to do the same.

swishycapes​ // Lando Calrissian

most of the spectres didn’t happen to be particularly fond of him, given the way that he had met them all at the beginning –– perhaps not one of his most flawless plan executions, even if it had worked out just fine, as far as he was concerned. still, it did not stop him from lighting up with a wide grin when he recognized one of the youngest, wondering around the halls of the temple, appearing to enjoy theirself. at least she didn’t seem quite as displeased as kanan had been, all things considered.

“always a pleasure to see you again,” lando beamed at them. “of course. then again, I’d argue most little new republic socializers are my scene –– but yes, I put a rather generous donation together for tonight, courtesy of the mining corporation.” no sense in missing out an opportunity to brag, particularly if they still ad a certain impression about him.

It’s been a few since she last saw Lando. Uh, months? Years? Eh, it wasn’t much of a difference anyways. Here they were now, so the two might as well catch up over a drink. Or five!

“Yeah, how is the mining corp..corpor-- the guild? Or is guild a different thing?”

They felt something hot and bitter flash its way up her throat, then swallowed it back down with a look of confusion. Huh. Wonder if anyone had mixed this many alcohols from this many planets before?

“Lamdo, did you hear,” they slurred out in a loud imitation of a whisper, “that someone mixed up the ingredients in the desserts?” They offered him a delicate-looking pastry from a nearby table. “You like to gamble, right?” She muffled a grin for mock seriosity. Serios-- seriousness? Yeah, that was the one.

generally-scheming​ // Armitage Hux

Interesting, the way they lingered over their disdain for Brendol. But if she had plans to remove him from the picture, that was not why she had come. Sabine’s question put ice in Hux’s stomach. He had been so careful — no one knew, not even his closest associates — he had been certain never to leave a trace of Alton’s name on any calendar or message, always labeling their trysts as public relations consultations. Hux willed himself to remain stoic. The accusation was harmless without proof, he reminded himself, trying to drown out the rising anxiety.

“You’re joking. Kastle? The one on Holonet News, with the hair?”  Hux kept every muscle in his face on strict lockdown, willing his expressionless mask to remain intact.  “I’m flattered that you think I have the time to court glamorous holonet personalities, but I’m simply too busy for that sort of thing. And you cannot prove otherwise.”

Suddenly aware that his grip on his wine glass had become unnaturally tight, Hux relaxed his hand and took a sip. He’d ended on a needlessly defensive note — one which he hoped Sabine would pick up on to spill exactly what they were threatening him with. Once he knew that, Hux could decide whether this was a fire which could be controlled, or one which needed to be extinguished.

_

His face was cold and calculated, down to the flutter of eyelashes and upturn of a brow. Nothing less than what she’d expected.  An attempt to brush off the accusation, almost delivered with an air of defensiveness. Almost. She knew that he wouldn’t panic unless the Mandalorian had proof, and that was more than fair. Slowly enough to almost taunt, they withdrew their datapad from the folds of her dress and laid it in the middle of the table, screen still blank. If the target on her back was going to be enlarged, they might as well take their time.

“Oh, but you should be flattered. It’s not every day that I decide someone’s important enough to investigate. After all, a few flights to Coruscant aren’t cheap. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

Now, Sabine sat upright, leaning forward the slightest degree. In honesty, they weren’t sure what to expect. A blaster bolt to the beskar? A defensive peal of laughter? Whatever it was, they sat ready.

“Tell me, Hux. If, hypothetically, I did have proof-- if it was sitting on the very table before us, what would you do to keep it from prying eyes? Are you willing to bet your honorable standing as a general of the First Order?”

chaotickylia​ // kylia horne

Kylia beams with a brilliant light. Happiness and warmth wrap around her body like a blanket in the cold. She’s filled with joy and she’s trying to remember the last time she had felt this way or this free, but she realizes that it doesn’t matter! She’s in the moment with her new friend and they seem to be rather comfortable with each other’s company and presence, and really, that was the moment that Kylia knew was important. “Thank you! Sabine is pretty too and so are you!” She draws a little in her vocals but she means every word of it. The rush if it was intoxicating. Exhilarating. Kylia tried to breathe it all in. She wanted her new friend to enjoy it too as they raced together, hands touching, a part of them connecting the other together. The feeling was still there. This lightness that starts from her toes and wafts all the way up to the tip of her head and she finds herself laughing with the other, a magical sensation and sound. At the words, Kylia looks up, once her feet stop moving and she sees the stars spinning with each other in time to the beat, finding herself leaning a little too far backwards, but not stopping as she falls to her back on the ground, laughing once again. “They look far more gorgeous from this angle! Look at them sway with each other, Sabine!”

.

Wow. It was like the stars were shining just for them, light seeping down into her bones. The pull of it was everything, a string tied from her chest to the sky, pulling them up, up, up! Oh, it was a tether, but it was also freeing! They watched their friend fall to the ground and mimicked the motion, laying beside her with a sort of breathless triumph. It was a few honey-sweet moments before they finally spoke a response into existence.

“It’s so...It’sss...like when the p-poets write about the galaxy as an ocean, or a...” the words escaped her tongue, and they knew they weren’t making sense, but there was some comfort in that. Not everything had to. “In my family, there’s a story about the stars, right? Th-the most noble mando’ade, the ones that have passed on, they still watch over us.” 

The thought made her sad, but not in a way that hurt. In a way that was reassuring, a reminder that they were feeling. That she was here.

“Er, Kylia. D’ya know what time it is? I gotta f-find a couple more people before the night is over. You can come with, if ya want, but ya don’t have to. You have somewhere safe to stay the night?”

bly-5052​ // Bly

Bly flushed a little in pride, glancing down at their armor “Ah, thank you. I’ve had the designs since I left Kamino.” They told her, patting a hand over the design that matched the tattoos on their cheeks.

“Honestly? Not really. I just haven’t seen a Mandalorian outside the ones Prime had train us. Word was that no Mando’ade considered us one of them so I’ve kept my distance.” They admitted with a shrug, holding out their hand. “Commander Bly,” they introduced themselves before frowning and chuckling “I don’t know if I still hold my rank, but I don’t have a last name so I’ve just kept it.”

_

Their response to the compliment was endearing, and immediately Sabine smiled, eyes still tracing over their use of color and line on the worn armor. It was a familiar hue, one native to their forgotten family back on Krownest...

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Bly. I’m Sabine.”

As she shook their hand, the Mandalorian thought on Bly’s words about belonging and identity. Though they hadn’t personally known any clones who’d held the title Mandalorian, she saw no reason why they couldn’t claim the heritage. After all, the children of Mandalore weren’t race, but creed.

“Tell you what, Bly. I could actually use some help fixing my ship, if you’ve got the time. I can’t offer you much in the way of credits, but I can cover a meal at the local cantina. It’s not the best in the parsec, but it’s hot. Plus, I’d enjoy the company, if you’re up for it.”

l  closed starter  l @naboospage 

Part of the healing was re-acquainting themself with the people they used to know. Sabine knew that she couldn’t spend forever on the outskirts of the galaxy, hunting down dead-ended information and criminal bounties alike. Grief had pushed her to seek space, but they knew now that the time for being alone was over. The last few weeks, she’d been gradually talking to more people from their past (Iden, Ahsoka, Kallus). Though some of the conversations were painful, she knew that being vulnerable is what her family would want her to do. Ezra and Tristan would want this for her. 

“Sache, my friend! This is Sabine.”

They spoke with more enthusiasm then they actually felt, hoping their facade wouldn’t be read through the blur of the holo-message. The two had been good friends, once upon a time, when the Rebellion had been in its most desperate need for agents of all kinds (and Sache had proved more capable than most).

“It’s been a while, but I just wanted to check in and see how you were doing. I was hoping we could catch up sometime soon. When you have time, of course.”

They fiddled with the hem of their flight suit a moment before wrapping the message up with a pointed smile and a wink.

“Hope to hear from you soon, Sache. Safe travels.”

for   @beskarbuir and @finitefm​  // din djarin and tarre vizsla

──   MANDALORE,  YOUR  SCENERY  IS  LIKE  FAMINE.   mandalore,  the most stagnated,  ravaged part of it,  is too lucid for him.   the landscape straddles between home and desolation,  thriving in that liminal space;  that is to say,  it welcomes him without communion.  but that is alright,  for his learnings were true.   this is a cursed planet,  far past death and onto lying in wait.   feverish and weak.   imperials looming over and gorging on the fruit of their lands,  gloating as its acidic juice drips into the corpse’s eyes.   mandalore bares it’s clenched teeth and hungers,  too.  for ichor,  for people,  for love.

din will not be the one to satiate it.   the love he offers is for his people beyond this soured heart,  reared in their ways in places far from here.   they are a nomadic people steeped in an idea.   they are more than mandalore alone.   still,  he stood close to his companion in these past days,  keeping an eye on their surroundings but mostly on them.  it almost seemed like she would choke on the prospect of coming here,  of walking into the maw of their once home.   since their arrival,  her grief was mute;  hemorrhage kept internal.   he hopes they know that if they dotter,  he will bear their weight. 

though there,  in the distance,  rises a haunting:  arriving in beskar adorned in gilded fractures, as if shattered and rebuilt.   his steps nearly stop there,  hand so willing to pull sabine back for her safety.   to din,  they are an unknown beauty and terror looming forth   ─   and though the feeling is transient,  he dallies the tiniest bit slower than sabine when she perseveres in the face of a phantom.   then,  she drops to her knee as if the very sight of them is sacrosanct,  bowing their head in reverence.   ‘ tarre vizsla ’ ,  they had said,  and all besides the clan name and shriek hawk garners no recognition. 

his next move is less calculated.   there is a bow of his head,  hand to the heart while the other still grips his spear like a walking stick.   a commingled greeting less pronounced as sabine’s,  but respectful to a title that eludes him.   ❝  su cuy’gar.  ❞  a fraction of an accent lilts his words,  obvious in comparison between him and them,  but there is no shame in it.   he lifts his head and glances to his companion,  then back,    ❝  as had we.  ❞   concern edges his voice,  ❝  how long have you been here ?  ❞   this is a dead land.  there will be no survival here.

the   reactions   tarre   has   faced   from   their   people   have   been   many,   in   this   time.   they   cannot   say   that   the   awe   is   their   least   favorite,   for   they   have   felt   the   brunt   outraged   violence   at   assumed   deception.   the   PAIN   that   lay   beneath   those   interactions   bests   the   creeping   discomfort   of   respect   for   a   mythos   larger   than   their   life.   they   were   mand’alor   in   their   time,   after   all   –   they   know   the   INTENSITY   of   mandalorian   devotion.   but   they   have   only   made   martyrs.   to   BE   one   ?   it   is   something   entirely   different.  

when   she   kneels,   they   are   surprised   by   the   instinct   to   kneel   as   well,   to   find   the   level   of   her   eyes   beneath   her   colorful   helmet   and   assure   her   that   deference   is   largely   unnecessary.   but   this   is   not   a   force   call,   only   human   LONGING,   and   they   have   spent   years   attempting   to   calm   their   gut   punches   of   emotion.   they   mirror   her   companion   instead,   a   hand   raised   to   their   heart.   these   two   are   sharply   different   in   more   than   their   armor.   their   knowledge   of   HISTORY,   they   can   assume,   yet   the   importance   lies   in   the   force.   she   is   fireworks.   he   is   something   more   unobtrusive.   they   find   both   intriguing   on   a   level   that   may   speak   only   to   their   own   desire   for   new   connection   with   their   people.

there   are   more   pressing   matters   than   any   slowly   sharpening   edge   of   desperation,   however.   their   voice   is   smooth   as   mandalore’s   hot   winds   as   they   reply,   ❛   i   am   them.   please,   RISE   –   i   am   no   mand’alor   in   this   time.   ❜   they   would   insist   that   ALL   mandalorians   are   clan   enough   to   do   away   with   such   formalities,   if   they   had   not   begun   to   grasp   that   these   descendants   of   theirs   are   not   nearly   so   united.   ❛   i   am   glad   to   find   others.   what   is   left   of   history   is   something   worth   revisiting,   i   believe.   ❜

the   bittersweetness   of   it   all   is   beginning   to   burn.   they   tuck   the   feeling   underneath   their   tongue   and   let   it   rest   there,   tangled   up   in   the   core   of   them.   ❛   only   briefly.   there   is   better   accommodation   not   too   far   from   here.   i   wanted   to   see   what   this   became.   ❜   their   words   come   freely,   yet   remain   careful   with   that   bittersweet,   that   knot   of   feeling.   their   head   tilts   slightly   as   they   look   back   to   the   ruins.   ❛   this   is   a   place   of   BLOOD.   it   is   good   that   it   is   no   home.   ❜   it   had   been   theirs,   once,   and   they   suppose   that   that   is   the   tragedy   of   it.   this   loss   will   not   leave   them.

So, it was them, Mand’alor be’ruyot. How or why the leader had returned during their peoples’ most desolate hour was far beyond her understanding. Despite years spent in the company of Jedi, this was perhaps the most impossible thing she’d ever witnessed. Tongue heavy, Sabine found that they had no words-- no amount of training could have ever prepared her for this. Still, at their ancestor’s command, she rose, glancing over at their brother-in-arms.

The younger Mandalorian knew that their companion was not as versed in the history of their people-- which was not something she faulted them for. It just was, a product of circumstance. They examined him-- a shared language of silence only the two knew, unreliant on the visages hidden beneath beskar. This was the nature of their friendship: an understanding that silence had its own place in the conversations they held. So much was shared with so little sound. Despite the unease and confusion that now plagued them both, Sabine understood.

Attention turned, shifting back to the words spoken by one who held so many stories from an age lifetimes before her own. Guilt seized their breath once again. This place was no home, not for anyone. Nor had it been for years, and there were few more to blame than she. Sabine felt their voice waver and crack in response to the bitterness of the haastal.

“No. It is not.” So many skeletons haunted this wasteland once called prosperous, once called beloved. “It belongs now only to the mercy of the Ka’ra above.”

Noticing how uncomfortable the formalities had made their ancestor, Sabine extended an unsteady arm, anticipation of the traditional salute for Mando’ade.

“I am Sabine of Clan Wren and House Vizsla.” There was a moment of pause, consideration. Her companion could share their name if he wanted. It was optional, as most words between the two were. “It is an honor to share your name. Gedet’ye, what may I call you if not ner Mand’alor?”

They couldn’t help but hope her friend wasn’t too lost right now. She gave them a glance as if to reassure him that she’d explain later.

generally-scheming​ // armitage hux

“You should be so lucky.” Hux bristled, his pitch creeping higher. The foreign words unsettled him. There was little he hated more than not knowing things. He turned to a communications officer seated at a nearby console, his voice crisp as an icicle. “What language is that? What does it mean?”

“Mando’a, sir.” The officer’s mouth twitched. Was that a laugh he was stifling?

“Look at me when I am talking to you, officer.” The officer’s amusement was highly inappropriate. “What did she say?”

“She said…” The comms officer’s face went pale as he met Hux’s gaze. Looking as if he were in real, physical pain, he squeaked out, “ ‘Cheers, sweetheart.’ ” He cleared his throat. “Sir.”

Silence descended on the bridge. These officers were well-trained; they knew better than to laugh audibly. But Hux could feel the held breaths, the shoulders shaking with the struggle to contain their amusement   (his shame).   His jaw clenched. He would maintain professionalism, even if these classless rebels did not. “Thank you, Officer Norton,” he said quietly. He pivoted to address the entire bridge, the very picture of control until he opened his mouth.

“Divert power from deflector shields to boosters! GET them IN RANGE and FIRE TURBOLASERS! NOW !!” Officers scrambled around him. Face burning, he lowered his voice to a stiff sneer as he spoke into the comms. “I hope you like it hot, Mandalorian. Shame that the rest of your planet didn’t.”

. 

A crew member indicated that the larger vessel was shifting power to thrusters, and she nodded without much concern. These ex-Imperials may have more firepower, but Sabine knew this ship, knew its people. The Rebels were faster and knew the less-traveled hyperspace lanes like home. They had to if they wanted to survive.

At the response on the com, Sabine smirked. So, it was that easy. Though the comment should have stung, the Mandalorian shrugged it off for now. This wasn’t the first time someone had said such things to them in the heat of battle. And it sure as hell wasn’t going to be the last. Were it another bound by Creed, they might have panicked, have spiraled into anxiety or fear or guilt-- but to this hut’uun, all they heard were words, devoid of knowledge or feeling.

“Oh, low blow, general. You kiss your superiors with that mouth?”

She asked, but had little doubt about it. From what they heard, some Imps were willing to do just about anything for a promotion. It wasn’t her business, but it was amusing. They gave their attention back to the focus at hand: the jump to New Republic space just a few parsecs away was calculated, and the only thing left was to give the command.

“Oh, and translator? Why don’t you tell the general-- te’habi bevik gar’shebs! I’m sure you’d all be better for it!”

As she gave the signal for the jump, they smiled lightly under their palm. Secretly, they hoped to run into him again-- this was the most fun she’d had all week.

“i wouldn’t call myself lucky.”

The roar of blaster fire muffled his words, passed from one hidden visage to another. Sabine countered with a round of shots and ducked behind an empty freight car.

“Funny, I was going to say the same thing!”

An explosion rocked their six, and she had to shout just to be heard.

“Haar’chak, what did we get ourselves into?”

l  closed starter  l  @spectrcsix​

The hesitation was unusual. Sure, there had been rocky patches in their friendship before, but it had been so long, and so much had changed while he was gone. Wars finished and begun, jumps in time not even the Jedi could really explain. Entire moons collapsing and a handful of holonet scandals. And he’d missed it all. She didn’t blame him, of course, but there were blanks that hadn’t there before, for the both of them. It had been months since Ezra’s return, but Sabine still couldn’t shake the feeling that she was doing something wrong. Even as he had answered their call and agreed to meet them on the mission, Sabine felt tense. 

“Look what the loth-cat dragged in!” They slowly reached for an embrace, not used to reaching upwards at his now-tall frame. “Glad you could make it, Ezra. Ought to be a fireworks show if everything goes right,” they grinned even despite the anxiety. Their bond may look different, but he was still their brother. Not one year, not even a hundred years in wild space could change that.