Forget The Explosion – Look At The Colour!

@spectrcsix​ // Ezra Bridger

closed starter for @call-me-spectre-five -

“please don’t hit me. or shoot me. or throw something at me!” ezra calls out as he approaches, gritting his teeth. he fully expects sabine to do at least one of those things after the choices he made - not that she thinks she wouldn’t have understood, but that doesn’t mean it was necessarily an easy decision for everyone to have accepted. he gets that. he does.

he stands by it, though, just like he knows kanan stood by his choice despite the cost.

he holds his hands up in an attempt to show he’s not here for a fight, his trademark guilty-embarrassed-bashful sort of smile on his face. not that ezra expects that to be enough to save his ass from sabine’s wrath, but he has to try. right? “would it help to know you’re like - the second person i’ve come to see? so pretty high on the list. that counts for something, right?

Sabine had heard rumors about Ezra since almost right after he disappeared. Where to search wild space, who knew anything, what to do in the face of her loss. After one lie too many, Sabine had closed themself off, prompting weeks of solitude and grief. She had promised herself then that she wouldn’t respond to another false informant, but this, this felt...different. They couldn’t explain it, only that it was a pull in her gut leading to the point of the rendezvous. And…they actually couldn’t believe the figure standing before her.

“Ezra?” They asked, voice weighty with emotion. No, this had to be a trick. It had been a long time (too long) and she couldn’t be lucky enough to win this one. If it was Ezra, what had she done to deserve him back? Why now? But he kept talking and moving and breathing and being so Ezra.

“Ezra! Fuck!” They dropped everything and leapt into him, nearly tackling him to the ground. He was taller than them now, but all she could do was throw her arms around his frame, pull him close. They exhaled into his side, feeling for the first time in months a genuine sense of hope. Kanan was back, and now, so was Ezra. Her family was back, and there was nothing else she needed in this moment. And then, despite his warnings, she gave him a light smack on the back of the head. Nothing that would hurt, but something reminiscent of times when they could show affection through sparring (both verbal and physical). “Copaani mirshmure’cye, vod’ika? Where the hell have you been?”

@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?”

@cravked​ // trilla suduri

it wasn’t that unusual, by all accounts, but perhaps her own standards had shifted with the way that she had spent the last two years of her life. any kind of contact with other sentient creatures was not quite as dreaded as it had been before. she was changing, whether she liked it or not. she couldn’t be miserable for the rest of her life. she realized that she didn’t want to be, either. that meant accepting some of the ways that she had changed.

“you’re lucky i took pity instead of leaving you for the thugs,” she offered, not quite willing to yet let go of her nature to underplay things.

standing up once again with the other, trilla drew her cape around her frame so that it was more hidden. “i suppose you would think that, with that armor that you’re wearing,” she remarked. her words weren’t particularly spiteful, despite the history that she was well educated on. “don’t count on learning too much. if you haven’t noticed, i’m not as chatty as you appear to be.” which was fine by her standards, really. she much rather the stranger do all of the talking.

A glint of light flashed around Trilla’s waist as she adjusted her cloak and Sabine sobered for a moment, struck by the image they saw. It was only a quick glimpse, but it was enough. A lightsaber. This stranger carried with them a lightsaber. 

They averted their gaze, instead focusing on the landscape before them, but she couldn’t deny that her curiosity about the stranger grew. Was she being assisted by a Jedi? Or a Sith? Or, could this traveler, like their friend Ahsoka, be neither? Was she the weapon’s original owner or, like Sabine’s experience with the Darksaber, had it merely passed into her hands over time? Was she here of good will, or did she have an ulterior motive? Sabine didn’t sense any danger from their travelling companion, but she could never be too sure. 

One thing she was certain of was this: as mouthy as she had been, Sabine’s sudden shift to silence would not go unnoticed. Trilla, whoever she really was, was very intelligent, that much they could tell. So, they threw out a quip in response to the other’s taunting.

“Well, that’s okay.You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. I’m sure these plants make excellent conversationalists,” they teased. “In fact, I bet they’re even better at being brooding and aloof than you are.” She checked their datapad, gathering a quick mental map of the surrounding area. “And it’s only an hour or two’s trek to the next settlement. Unless you know the area better?” 

She would hold conversation and accept what help was offered, for now. After all, it’s better to wait with sharp ears and eyes than walk into the jaws of a Rancor unknowingly.

@naboospage​ // Sache

There was a mirror in Sache’s office, and she spent some time looking at it while waiting for Sabine to come. She had to look different than what the Mandalorian remembered - she’d seen the holos showing the Saché of this timeline. All her features where almost unrecognisable- for her at least. The difference had to show in her holo message, too.

This was going to hurt, and not just her. Saché was pretty sure that once Sabine would learn the truth, they’d run away and never talk to her again. Which was understandable. She wouldn’t want to talk with a friend that didn’t remember any of her.

Once out of the office and facing Sabine, she tried her best to look strong and welcoming. The other’s confusion didn’t surprise her, but made her feel guilty and sad.

“Come in, I’ll make some tea,” Saché said as EP closed the door behind them. On another day she’d let the droid do the tea and serve them, but she needed to keep her hands busy. “Don’t apologise Sabine, I’ve been avoiding everyone since the war ended. I suppose you’ve heard of the Emperor’s Rift?” She didn’t wait for an answer, sat down while the water was boiling. “From my perspective, the Clone Wars ended three years ago. I greeted you like that because we haven’t met yet.”

Then she waited for a reaction. And for the water to boil. And for an excuse to leave, but she wasn’t going to run away from this. She had been avoiding everything for too long.

Tea would barely be enough to calm Sabine’s nerves, but it was better than nothing. They paid mind to the twisting arches of steam and the pressure of heat in her hands instead of the torrent of emotion boring holes into her brain. This Sache, she looked so different than they remembered. And now she knew why.

A note of guilt rang through the Mandalorian’s chest. If they had only reached out sooner, maybe neither person would be feeling this anxiety and hurt. And it did hurt. She thought she would have been used to it by now, the shifting of timelines and relationships, the loss of friends and family, but they never were. It was a fresh sting each time, a pain they would never be comfortable feeling. Still, she could feel the same emotions radiating from the person in front of them. Yes, the friendship would have to be rebuilt (and it probably wouldn’t look the same as one forged through the camaraderie of shared cause), but it was the least they could do to reassure Sache it wasn’t her fault.

“Well, then, it’s.” The words felt heavy and sticky on the roof of her mouth, something they had struggled with all of her life (despite her reputation for having a silver tongue). “It’s nice to meet you, Sache. Thank you for inviting me here. And for the tea.”

@cravked​ // trilla suduri

an eyebrow arched at the other’s clarification about the biker situation. it only made her wonder all the more how she had managed to get herself stuck out here with it again, but she supposed that if she didn’t have any other options, it made sense. trilla had gone from everything that she could have ever needed with the resources of the empire to fending almost entirely by herself. at least then, there hadn’t been so much of a need for technology or transport. sometimes, living like that really didn’t seem so bad. at least it had been easy, even if she had been somewhat crippled with loneliness.

a cough erupted from her lips as the bike burst out with some smoke, waving it away from their face. “get a better transport, perhaps,” she remarked dryly, resisting the urge to roll her eyes as she straightened up and wiped some off the dirt off her hands and onto her dark pants.

“where are you trying to go?” trilla questioned, gaze shifting back toward the human. they examined her armor closer for just a moment, refraining from commenting on it just yet. she was very familiar with what it was, even if the paint job was not what she would have considered predictable. “i might be able to help get you there. or at least get you to someone with the right parts to fix it.” 

Sabine let out a sigh of frustration then wiped their brow with the back of their hand. They never should have come all the way out to this desolate planet. They had been chasing one dead lead after another for weeks now, and she didn’t understand why she thought this one would be any different. All it got them was a busted bike and a raging headache. She hastily stuffed the tools into their pack, then pulled out a datapad, sitting on an outcropping of rock while typing. 

“Ya know, I sure would have gotten a better transport if there had been one available.” 

She grimaced as the screen displayed a glowing map, showing their destination at about 200 klicks northwest from their current location.

“I need to get here,” they said, while pointing at the outpost on the tablet. “I knew it would be too far a ride for this junker. I don’t know why I even bothered with this damned planet...” She muttered, then looked up at Trilla, just now processing the offer she had been given. “You would help me? But you don’t even know me. What if I’m some kind of...assassin or something?”

@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.”

cravked​ // Trilla Suduri

although it had been forced upon them, trilla had not been a child prepared for war. too soft, with a preference for things to be right or wrong. the clone wars hadn’t offered any of that. the empire hadn’t, either, but they had also broken her of those things entirely. they were still recovering pieces of the past, deciding which were worth holding onto.

“did you expect something else? the only thing most people know about hapans is that they abhor outsiders.” even she knew barely more than that, despite their frequent efforts to be as prepared as possible. it was that piece of fear that still lived inside of them. her brow twitched at the change of subject. “thank you,” a beat passed. “you look very… colorful. is that normal for you, or are you making a statement?”

.

The Mandalorian chewed on their words before committing to response. In truth, there wasn’t much she knew about their hosts-- other than the fact that they hoarded what clearly didn’t belong to them. This was a place of war, they could tell that much. But beyond that, Sabine knew strikingly little.She welcomed the change of tone, greeted it with an apathetic smile.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, I suppose,” they nodded in the silence. “And, both, I suppose. Without my armor, I’ve got to find some way to stand out, right?” She half-heartedly joked, tapping the rim of her drink in an unsteady rythym of anxiety. “Can I ask what you’re doing here? This doesn’t really seem like your kind of function.”

generally-scheming​ // Armitage Hux

Hux opened his mouth to retort that it might kill her, but an explosive roar drowned him out. The shockwave hurled him to the ground. His ears ringing, broken glass cutting at his hands and knees, he scrambled to find the source of the attack. His eyes darted past smoke, rubble, and the bodies of guests and Hapan navy alike. Overhead, a tall grey humanoid brandished an — eel? It snapped into a rigid spear when thrown to earth, head sizzling bright with plasma. Hux seized Sabine’s arm.   (Just a little push! End them!)    But at a last second realization, he reluctantly pulled them towards cover. They both narrowly escaped the blast.

“That’s not us,”  he hissed. Who but the First Order would attack a New Republic gala? His only clue was the bizarre weaponry, and the Mandalorian beside Hux was perhaps the galaxy’s second-best living mind in weapons development.  “Have you ever seen these explosives? They’re not Imperial. CSA? An enemy of Hapan?”

.

The shift was immediate. Suddenly, Sabine was on the floor, blinking up at passing lines of flame and shadow. Of fucking course something would shit on her one actual chance to preserve the heritage of Mandalore. Beneath her leg was the familiar discomfort of shrapnel digging into skin, and then a pull-- and not a minute too soon. Meeting that familiar face brought an anger to her stomach (of course she was stuck with the one asshole in this gala who would leap at the chance to make their life a living hell). But as another explosion rattled the building, Sabine realized all too clear: it was cooperation or death.

“You sure the bastards you work for aren’t finally ready to dump your sorry ass?” She muttered between gritted teeth, the sharp iron of blood on her tongue. “No, I’ve never seen anything like this!” They yelled to be heard over the din of chaos that was erupting around them. “I don’t know who the fuck this is or who they’re targeting, but it looks like we’re gonna have to work together.” She surveyed the area, tossing him some long shard of wood like a dagger and grabbing one for themself.

“Happy fucking new year, sweetheart.”

@chaotickylia​ // Kylia Horne​

-

What exactly was this feeling and why had it felt so foreign in her veins? The feelings of elation and happiness. As if there had never once been a darkness in the galaxy. As if there was never a war that waged on for what felt like decades beyond themselves? She laughs a little at the thought, her gaze, vibrant and colorful as she watches the blur of everyone’s outfits mixing together in a mingled mess. The energy in the temple had felt….welcoming. As if a celebration aside from the party was happening. A party within a party! Now wouldn’t that have been something? At the spoken words next to her, her gaze drifts lazily to the other, the laughter continues for just a moent longer. “Nothing’s nearly as stuffy as a tunic on a hot day!” A pause and her laughter starts to die down. “The architecture sure is something here. I’d like to find the creator. Give him a blessing!”

The comment struck a chord with Sabine, loosing another round of giggles. This person was funny! She haphazardly reached for the woman’s arm, slipping and falling forward into another stone pillar. It looked so tall! Maybe if they reached up, they could touch it--

“And one from me! K’oyacyi!” 

They slumped forward in a fit of laughter, resting her palms on knees that felt so warm. Vision turned to the fabric of her conversation partner, and their eyes widened in awe.

“It’s so pretty! Your outfit, it’s kriffing gorgeous! Ha! D-did the architect make this, too?”

spectreoflasan​ // Zeb Orrellios

“Karabast, Sabine – you deserve a drink, not ten! Not unless you also want to deserve the rancor of a hangover you’re gonna have tomorrow morning. What’s this about a shit year? Slow down, I– last week was Endor for me, I– oh, kriff.” Were those tears? Panic set Zeb’s fur on end. He had seen Sabine furious, had seen her blast entire Imperial bases to shrapnel with glee, but Sabine crying? That was scary. Zeb pulled them into a hug and patted their shoulder delicately. “There, now, it’s… you’re okay, you’re fine, now, okay, just, c’mon. Alright? You can… it’s fine, have another drink, I, we’ll just, we’ll have our waters first, okay? Just take it easy, now.”

Zeb guided her away towards a chair by the window. At least here they could get a little air. Gently, they pressed a glass of water into Sabine’s hand, their eyes wide with concern. Zeb flinched at her last question, made all the more painful by the way her face reflected the same deep concern back at him. “Kriff, what are you talking about, Sabine, I– you must really be in the sauce. Nothing happened, I–” Well. Zeb might have believed that an hour ago, but not anymore. “I don’t know. Forget about Ka– …about me. You’ve got enough on your mind as it is. Talk to me.”

They threw her arms around the Lasat, and she saw the room pass by under her feet but couldn’t feel it, not really. Something cold closed around their fingers and they sat, immediately slumping forward onto the table. She looked up into her friend’s eyes and pouted, memories of family flashing by too slowly, a steady drip of molasses in the mind. A sigh pushed itself out of their lips, and they sat up, chin resting on cupped hands.

“Zeb, this year has been so...fuck. I just. ‘M tired, Zeb.” They racked through the timeline in their brain, but it felt absent and muddled. “Af-ter Kanan d-” their voice cracked, and she took a sip of the water in her hand. It wasn’t real anymore. “And now he’s back. And Ezra, too. But I keep...I keep thinking, Zeb!” The knot in her chest tightened, and those familiar tears crossed her eyes, cheeks, lips. They hated it, the crying. They hated it! “And I’m glad, Zeb, I am,” though it didn’t sound like it, “but where’s my other family? Ner aliit!” Their native tongue slipped out as she slouched forward again. What was she doing? “Ner buire, ner vod’ika.” They finally spit out the question that had been lingering on their mind for days now. “If one family can come back, why can’t the other?”