Generally-scheming​ // Armitage Hux

❛ can i come with you ? ❜ from din

Sabine enjoys this friend’s company as much she enjoys spending time with any of the Spectres (as much as she had enjoyed spending time with Tristan and Ezra). To hear him ask for her companionship with such gentility...The question brought a grin to their unmasked face.

“Of course. The more the merrier.”

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!”

galaxywon​ // Hera Syndulla

Oh  thank  the  Force  Hera  thought,  pushing  through  the  pain  to  meet  Sabine,  hands  automatically  going  to  their  upper  arms,  examining  them  for  any  visible  signs  of  injury.  Outwardly  she  looked  okay,  but  that  meant  nothing  right  now.  “  No-no….    Not  since  the  explosions.  “  Kriff,  she  had  just  gotten  her  family  whole  again.  Their  stomach  was  in  knots.  “  We  need  to  find  them.  Chop  should  still  be  with  the  ship.  We  can  signal  for  a  pick  up  when  we’re  sure  everything  has  calmed  down.  “  There  was  that  small  relief  at  least.  Hera  hadn’t  trusted  her  droid  not  to  d  something  to  upset  the  very  unsteady  alliance  the  New  Republic  had  with  the  Hapans.  “  Do  you  know  what  happened  ?  “  

_

Fuck, the burns on Hera looked something awful. But they couldn’t focus on that now. Sabine hadn’t found anyone else, and apparently, neither had Hera. They pushed the repulsive thought of what could have happened to them to the back of her mind, focusing instead on the way forward.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. We make for the shipyard, then we find them.” If they could still be found.

In response to their question, she shook their head no, offering little comment as the two ducked for cover. It was all she could do from letting the dread of yet another lost family from choking them.

spectrcsix​ // Ezra Bridger

ezra knows this is kind of a big deal. from what kanan’s told him everyone’s kind of running under the impression that he’s been dead for a little while which - is a little disheartening, but he’s dealt with worse. he thinks. besides, it’s nice to give them the surprise that he’s not, right??

he’s lucky he was kind of expecting her to leap at him and thankfully he’s ready for it, staggering for a moment as they collide but managing to catch himself and stay upright as he holds sabine in a tight hug. maybe a little tighter than it should be but - it’s sabine. after all this time, everything he’s been through - everything they’ve both been through, he figures she’ll understand. besides, she doesn’t seem to mind it given the way she’s holding onto him too. he goes to say something when she pulls back, only to get hit over the head anyway “hey! i said not to hit me!” he exclaims, but there’s no heat behind his words, no anger. he knows it’s coming from a place of care and fondness as it always has with sabine. it’s just how they are.

it’s hard to be completely sure what she’s saying, ezra never got the chance to learn her language, but he spent enough time around mandalorians to pick up the intention. “uh - i dunno what you just said, but please do not hit me again.” he smiles and rubs the back of his head. “wild space which is - really vague i know, but it’s kinda hard to explain when i didn’t know for sure where i was. why do you think it took me so long to figure out how to get back?” pausing, ezra drops his hand by his side and looks at sabine for a moment - really looks at her. “what’s been going on? i mean - i missed a heap, i know, so. catch me up.” there’s an unasked question there in his quieter, more serious tone. are you okay?

Their little brother stands tall now, but examines them over with some concern. There is hesitancy in his stance, an unspoken anxiety. Sabine reaches for his hand, and holds his calloused fingers between her own. 

“Vod’ika...you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” 

That was painful to admit, but at least he was back. His loss was...well, it had taken its toll on her. It had rocked them to the core, pushed them away from family and towards isolation. After what had happened to Kanan, Ezra’s disappearance and (apparent) death had forced them into retreat. But they had to remind herself that it was no doubt hard on him too. Whatever he had been through-- whatever means he lived by in order to survive-- must have been hell. She was proud of him, even if it remained unspoken. They squeeze his hand once, and look down at their mud-caked boots. 

“You talk when you’re ready. Whatever it is, I know you fought your way back to us. You came when you could...and that’s. That’s enough, Ezra.”

She dropped his hand and instead shouldered the pack they had dropped in surprise. He had to be old enough for a drink, right?

“C’mon, Ezra. I’ve still got that bottle of Tepasi wine we stole when we were kids.” They smiled in fondness, starting to throw an arm around his shoulders but hesitating. What if he was uncomfortable with their touch? She didn’t want to overwhelm him. Instead, they just bit the inside of their lip and then gave him a sad smile. 

“Looks like we can finally have that toast to the Empire’s defeat, after all.”

@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.”

xspectre-1​ // Kanan Jarrus

.

“sabine you don’t… have to tell me. i’m not going to make you– relive anything…”he said, blinking as she continued, keeping his attention focused on her. his grip remained firm until– people coming back? could the force do that? thoughts briefly strayed– why he had been brought back but so many hadn’t– why only some had been chosen. 

he interrupted, feeling sabine’s movement. her greif. hands moved to carefully take her shoulders, “hey… hey we don’t have to talk about that, not now,” he assured her, sighing as he pulled her bac k into a hug. his confusion didn’t matter, not as much as her comfort… or at least, ability to calm down. he could catch up in his own time… with a small smile, he tightened his grip some, “i’m just glad you’re okay–”

.

She breathed deeply into his side, the familiar scent of leather and ash filling her senses. A torrent of emotions fought in their chest. Anger. Grief. Joy. Exhaustion. And something they couldn’t speak into existence, the feeling of finally being home.

“Kanan, I’m so- I’m sorry. I’m--”

Sorry I can’t explain it better--

Sorry I couldn’t stop the fire before it--

Sorry I couldn’t get the ship out of there fast enough--

Sorry I disappointed you.

But he didn’t remember. He didn’t remember because he didn’t live it, and thank the Force for that. Or the Manda. Whatever had brought him back, she would raise a glass to it, now and forever. Their buir was back, and nothing would take him away from her again. Fuck the rules, this was their father.

“I’m glad you’re okay, too.” They could tell Kanan was confused, was lost and trying his best to hold it together for her sake. They sighed, then used the back of her hand to push away the tears falling shamelessly across her cheeks. It was her turn to comfort him, despite the ache in their own chest. (Because that’s what children do for their parents.)

“It’s been about two years since the Empire fell. The New Republic is starting to reinstate some form of government and peace in the galaxy. And--” they hesitated, unsure of the specifics regarding his religion and people. What she did know, though, she would share. “The Jedi aren’t hunted anymore. No more Vader. No more Inquisitors.  As far as the Rebellion is concerned, Kanan... you’re a hero.” You’re my hero. 

beskarbuir​ // din djarin

──   HEAVY  BOOTS  DIP  INTO  HOT  SAND,  and the suns remain relentless.   it bears down on metal,  as it bares down on all things,  but he pays no mind  ─  there are more haunted places to befall,  and here,  there is a bounty to be made.   confluence of calculation and muscle memory,  the hunt begins with relative ease.   a few questions,  a bribe,  and he moves onwards. kilometers pass by,  though he slows at the sight of a shared silhouette,  brows knitting beneath the shadow of his visor.   even if recent affairs allowed for crossed paths,  encountering vestiges of his home,  his culture,  his people,  remained a rarity.   curiosity surges through him when the closing distance clarifies the mandalorian.   their numbers are minuscule and yet he still finds surprise in their variation;  the other’s armor stands stark against the ecru,  painted iridescent by the desert.

the conclusion comes quickly:  they’re here for the same goal.   while both following the same cardinal direction is slim reason to assume such things,  this is barren land and the payment is hefty.   tatooine is filled with hungry hands.   people take what they can get.   hesitation cannot be found in his approach,  yet he stops the borrowed speeder a few meters short to keep distance ( he’s been mistaken before ).   lips press to a line as he dismounts,  bracing for the revelation of a separate sect he had never heard before.  ❝  i haven’t seen another of our kind around here. ❞

     ─   @call-me-spectre-five

The job was an easy one, something she had completed hundreds of times before. Track a target, acquire them, and turn them over for payment. It was a practice they were well-versed in; any time credits dipped below the price of food and fuel, they had no qualms taking bounty on some runaway criminal unlucky enough to warrant capture. It was a refreshing break from the excitement of the Rebellion, and a good excuse to brush up on her hand-to-hand combat. Not for the first time, they settled on a desert planet defined by little more than twin suns and endless wastes of sand.

Information was easy enough to obtain if you knew where to listen. Word passes quickly from tongue to tongue in a starving galaxy, so she wouldn’t be fazed if another had come to claim the score. What they were surprised about was the sight of another clad in the beskar of their people.

Kriff.

Her eyes widened behind painted metal at the sight of the stranger. It had been an...uncomfortably long time since they had seen another Mandalorian, and the figure admitted to just as much. There was a shared uncertainty between them, but that was more than fair. To be wary was to survive.

“Neither have I.”

Sabine extender her arm, vambraces forward, in anticipation of a returned handshake. Trust had to be carefully built and not just given away, after all.

“Su cuy’gar, vod. I am...glad to know our people still survive.”

@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?”

galaxywon​ // Alexsandr Kallus

Sabine  had  been  Imperial,  even  though  their  time  had  ended  much  before  his  own.  They  knew  what  it  felt  like  to  be  forced  to  adhere  to  something  that  took    away  any  case  of  individuality.  But  she  didn’t  know  what  it  felt  like  to  believe  it  with  your  whole  being.  He  would  have  died  for  The  Empire,  almost  had  on  multiple  occasions.  He  thought  his  life  was  worth  something  with  them,  didn’t  know  true  value  until  he  had  been  challenged  to  question  things.  Being  an  Imperial  had  been  his  entire  life.  It  was  still  his  deepest  shame.  He  could  tell  by  the  way  they  analyzed  the  images  that  they  understood  what  it  meant.  “  I  fear  if  I  don’t  do  it  soon,  I  never  will.  “  he  admitted,  turning  away  from  them  to  try  to  hide  some  of  the  emotions  passing  through  his  face.  

“  I  can  sit  with  you  while  you  draw  if  you’d  like.  “  It  was  more  for  him  than  it  was  for  Sabine,  of  course.  He  wasn’t  sure  he  could  sit  around  and  wait  for  her  to  be  done.  “  I  have  some  mission  reports  I  could  fill  out.  “  He  knew  without  trying  that  he  wouldn’t  get  a  thing  done  while  he  was  waiting  for  them,  but  he  could  pretend.  “  Just…..  Don’t  tell  Garazeb  about  this.  Please.  “  

.

“ I understand.” She replied, though they both knew she couldn’t fully comprehend all he was feeling. Still, they felt the weight that sat on his shoulders. They understood its significance. None of the Spectres blamed Kallus for what he’d done, but Sabine knew that hearing something and believing it were two different things. Gods, did they know that...

“Please, make yourself at home,” she nodded, motioning to the cluttered interior of the ship. Sure, the cabin was a bit of a mess, but they got the feeling her friend wouldn’t mind. Well...maybe he’d mind a little, but the Ghost crew had always been so lovably chaotic. At their’s friend’s next request, though, her smile weakened, and they nodded solemnly.

“Speaking of Zeb,” they asked, already opening the digital art application on her datapad, “can I ask how you two are? You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” they added with a rush, careful to give him the chance to say no if he wanted. “I just know that with the whole time skip shit, everything’s been so...different.” A pause, as she rested stylus on screen. “Have you talked to them since?”

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?”