“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
📜
Zeb: I prevented a murder today. Sabine: Really? How’d you do that? Zeb: Self control.
@spectreoflasan
cravked // Trilla Suduri
it did not surprise them when the other offered no response to her words, nor did it bother her. trilla did not have particularly strong feelings about the hapan either way, she would not have been here in the first place if it weren’t for cal, or what they needed for the younglings. she didn’t entirely hate the excuse to get to dress up a bit, either. it wasn’t often that they had one.
“it’s not an insult,” a wry smile paired with the words. it was hard for trilla to relate to the idea of wanting to stick out when she would have been happy to disappear into the crowd without recognition. “no, it’s not my type of function. i’m here with a…” they paused slightly. “a friend. we’re meeting someone else for some work.” no need to disclose anything of her association with the jedi.
.
A pause passed through Trilla’s voice at the mention of a friend, and Sabine’s eyebrow gave the slightest raise. She elected to ignore the other’s hesitation, knowing that they’d share if they wanted to. If not, well, then it really wasn’t any of Sabine’s business.
“That makes more sense. After the disaster of the last event like this...I think it’s fair to be a little on edge.” They nodded and raised the drink to her lips, the soft carbonation offering her a short repose from conversation. Beskar gleamed before the two of them, and the reminder of mission tugged at her gut. “Suppose I’m here on business, too.”
cptfulcrum // alexsandr kallus
Kallus has long since known that the Ghost crew had forgiven him for the atrocities he’s committed. Even as he struggled to understand how or why, he would be grateful to his final days for friends such as them. Sabine would understand the significance of this in a way that no one else tasked would. They would understand the research that had gone into this, the inner turmoil while he had struggled with the Imperial idea of his body. Years later and it haunted him, the guidelines beat into their soldiers. “ Thank you. “ he said simply, nodding his head as he put his personal code into the datapad. Then he handed it off to them, the picture simple and not able to be understood to someone that didn’t know him. The Fulcrum Symbol featured, with fauna native to Lira San in another image. Finally, a third image of some flowers native to Lasan. He’s no artist, but has a vision. He knows Sabine is the one to execute that for him. “ This is quite personal to me. I want a tattoo. “ it’s to the point, lacks the emotion he has surrounding the whole idea, and his insecurities about how Zeb would feel about the whole thing. “ If it’s amenable for you, I’d prefer you to help me with this. “
The image drew a sharp inhale from the Mandalorian. The concept was striking, a symbol equal parts sharp and soft, a contrast of edges and curves. It was as though the picture itself was blooming before her eyes; she could already see the colors springing to life, filling the spaces between lines. They thought of the equipment that sat just inside her ship and the weeks since it had been used. It was a practice she was well-versed in-- but this time was different. It was so much more than ink and skin.
“Kallus, I...” But what words could she speak to answer a request so heavy? Sabine understood, of course they understood, what this meant to him. They could imagine the struggle he’d faced just to ask so much of her, the nights he must have wrestled with the regulations the Empire had imposed on him since boyhood. The tattoos she had were-- like so many other things-- an act of rebellion against them. And now it was his turn. Wordlessly, she nodded, holding his tired gaze with their own. Their grip on his hand tightened.
“When do you want to do this? I can have a few digital drafts made up withing a few hours, but I won’t rush you. Take it on your own time, and I’ll follow you.”
@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?”
BANITA SANDHU // have you met SABINE WREN yet? SHE/THEY is a/an 29 year old DEMIWOMAN HUMAN. they’re originally from MANDALORE and now show loyalty to THE REBELLION. they are best known for being a/an WEAPONS MASTER, and i hear they’re pretty INVENTIVE yet also STUBBORN at times; I hope they survive the galactic civil war. (JO, 20, CST, ANY PRONOUNS)
THE PAST
War has always been a part of her culture, their heritage. After all, the Mandalorian people are not known for being a friendly one. Sabine was raised in war, being only a child when she was conscripted to the Imperial Academy. But when she saw the weapons they created for the Empire being used against their family, she left and was branded a traitor by the Mandalorian people.
For years after that, they worked alongside the crew of the Ghost; Hera Syndulla, Kanan Jarrus (Caleb Dume), Ezra Bridger, Garazeb Orrellios, and the droid Chopper! They worked with this crew to fight against the tyranny of the Empire, and to bring equality and freedom back to the galaxy.
THE PRESENT
Sabine now works loosely with the Rebellion, still coming to terms with the Emperor’s Rift and adapting to the changes it brings with each passing day. They struggle with the genocide of their people, and she carries the survivor’s guilt of being one of the only Mandalorians left in the galaxy. In order to face this trauma, Sabine has decided (with their newfound friend and fellow Mandalorian, Din Djarin, to visit Mandalore and search for answers-- for catharsis. She does what they can in order to help out in the galaxy, trying to mitigate the pain their past actions caused others.
PERSONALITY
Sabine is a free-spirited young Mandalorian with a plethora of spunk and creativity, as well as an inherent refusal to follow instructions she does not believe in. They take pride in their artwork and pyrotechnics, two particular skills she’s very knowledgeable in. She sees the world as a canvas-- something that can always be taken and repaired and made beautiful. They do, however, have much internalized guilt about the role they played in the Empire as a child, especially in the genocide of her people-- something they blame themself for to this day. Sarcastic and as quick-witted as a Wookie is hairy, Sabine is loyal to a fault and will protect those closest to her with all her might.
beskarbuir // din djarin
── THE CANTEEN IS EASILY CAUGHT, its coolness permeating past leather. it’ll be another while before they drink from it, at least until they can find another retreat from eyes, though they raise it up with a slight shake to signal thanks. they swallow down the lingering iron.
as anxiety passes through her, nicks at her speech, din lifts themself from against the ship’s side and approaches her with a languid stride. there’s not much else to indicate that there shouldn’t be so much worry around questioning them ─ though when they finally reach them, a hand grips their upper arm as reassurance before falling back to their side. the touch is as brief as a breath. in truth, they’re surprised she had waited this long to ask. her patience is wholly appreciated, of course, but they do not open themself from within. they could hide themself infinitely. a being encased in shell upon shell, they must be pried with anything but a knife. ❝ yeah. ❞ their tone is open, paired with a nod. wariness lies there, too. ❝ go ahead. ❞
in turn, nerves do not bind them but an old weight pulls at their spine, pooling at their feet and the ends of their fingers. they’re not sure what to expect, what vital differentiations will contrast the both of them. one of their tenets already invites perplexed looks ─ sometimes it leads others to cruelty, like it was a challenge to break it for them. ❝ i’d like to know more about yours, too ─ ❞ really, they already know the response before it leaves them. but if their companion sought permission for their history, they will give the same courtesy. ❝ ─ if you’re willing. ❞
The trepidation, though never malignant, was always present. It was a dance Sabine had practiced with every sibling by creed, but none more so than this one. There was no resentment or exhaustion or shame in it-- this was just the cost of their relationship. And Sabine was more than content to measure their words, to weigh their steps, to share meals in separate rooms, to avoid painful questions-- if it meant spending time with her friend. For them, it was worth it.
Their touch was as gentle as it was brief, and it returned her to the present. Sabine greeted his gentility with a waning smile from unmasked lips. Their answer was relief, another brick to the altar of trust built by them both. Of course, he knew her reply. Though nothing in the steel countenance conceded it, the fact made itself known. She would share with him whatever was asked. (They appreciated the formality nonetheless.)
“Yeah. Um. I think that would be...Yeah, I would like that.”
There was no telling where to start. Certain things were known, yes, but others? How were they to tread the trauma they’d experienced in the last few years alone? And how much of it did they really share? Amid the torrent of questions, a quiet reassurance chimed from the back of their mind: let’s start here.
“Did you-- er, do you have a family?”
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
@cptfulcrum // Alexsandr Kallus
As much as this would have shocked his former self, Kallus genuinely cared about each of the Spectres. He knew his friendship with Zeb helped with that. He cared about the Lasat, so of course he would care for Zeb’s family. It wasn’t all that however. They hadn’t treated him horribly after his defection, something that he still thought he deserved. They were dedicated rebels, accomplished strategists, caring people. He was lucky to have friends like them, especially now, when everything felt like it was falling apart. He knew that Sabine could relate to that. They all could now.
He was being protective. It wasn’t necessary, not with Sabine. They cared for Zeb as much as he did if not more. It was an interesting relationship, theirs was. Maybe it was because he’s never had anything like that before. “ I’m sorry. “ he expels a breath, focusing in on the way they chipped the dirt off of their armor. “ I know you mean well. Zeb is lucky to have such caring friends. I just…. “ he trailed off, running a hand through his beard. Having friends was sometimes much harder than not having them. “ We were happy on Lira San. “ he admitted, quieter than before. “ We were happy. “ It felt like so long ago, before they had heard of Ezra’s death and before he had decided to leave. It felt like a long time ago, but it hadn’t been a great length of time.
“ I just want him to continue to be happy. “ Kallus confided, sucking in another breath. It was only tactful to ignore the tears that Sabine was letting out, just as she was ignoring the ones threatening to fall from his eyes. He hadn’t truly cried in a long time. He started towards his back, quietly. He thought about Sabine’s words. They were both Imperial defectors, though she was much better than he. It took him almost two decades to figure out what they had before they even graduated the Academy. “ I wouldn’t go comparing yourself to the likes of me. “ he said, hoping his tone sounded as light as he wanted it to. His eyes met theirs and he nodded. That was one thing they could agree on at least. “ Would it be quite childish of me to suggest a race? “ he grinned, already mounting his speeder, hoping that maybe they could ignore the despair they both felt for just a bit.
As he rode through the desert his hair whipped around him. He should have tied it up before starting this journey. It had grown much longer. The Empire would never have stood for that. It made him grin to himself at the thought. The more he changed, the more he rebelled against what the Empire instilled in him, the more he felt like he was finally becoming who he meant to be.
“It would only be childish if you lost!” Sabine shouted as they mounted the speeder bike, already racing over the terrain with a wide smile. The wind did nothing for the silent tears hidden beneath her visor. Fuck. She hated crying, but found herself doing it so much lately...Instead, they redirected attention to the passing foliage, the colors that blended and swirled around her.
Kallus was no stranger to a speeder, it was obvious, but she was sure she had more practical experience. He might have studied at the Academy, but Sabine had been riding since they were a child, since the occupation of the Empire on Mandalore. How he saw in that nest of hair, they couldn’t imagine, but somehow he actually caught an edge on her, turned a corner with more agility and speed than they thought possible.
“Oh, no you don’t!”
They took a risk, cutting through the underbrush, hoping it would help close the gap, but--
“Second place? Dank farrik, Kallus. I’ve got to hand it to you, you know your way around a speeder bike, old man.” They taunted with a sly upturn of the lip. “C’mon, first round’s on me.”
Their senses felt so dull yet so full of fire, and she couldn’t help but s m i l e at the heat running through her veins. They could take on the world if it was asked of them. She didn’t need the armor or the darksaber or anything else!! She was at the top of the world, swirling voices gilding themselves into a crown, flashing lights a mantle of pride. She couldn’t tell what was so funny about the party (only that it was!), and so laughter escaped from them like the bubbles in her latest beverage. They drifted through the temple, looking up at the carved stone in awe (...when she wasn’t looking down the end of a bottle.)
“The Jedi may have been kinda stuffy, but boy do they know architecture, huh?,” she sighed to the person closest, downing another shot in the process.
@chaotickylia
Artist. Madalorian. Weapons Master. Rebel. "My friends make the impossible possible." // RP account for galacticshq
160 posts