// Sabine’s Look For The Life Day Event //

“That’s because he inherited Hera’s good sense,” they joked, with a gentle nudge at his ribs. She could tell there was a lot on his mind, but there was no need to pry. Their language had always been one of silence, of emotions unspoken. It was...well, they were beyond grateful to have him back. Sure, she was older and (hopefully) wiser than the last time they’d met, but it was still him. Still Kanan. They’d done nothing to deserve their family back, but goddamn if she was going to let anything happen to them again.

“Ka’ra, it’s good to have you back. I was starting to miss making fun of you. Even if I can’t exactly call you an old man anymore.” The flash of a smile, marked only with a small caliber of sadness. It was a gift to see him again, but something still stung with a phantom of guilt.

@call-me-spectre-five​   //   sabine wren.

“jacen seems to be rather fond of you.” there was a warmth to his tone, even if his expression was somewhat contained. most of the results of the emperor’s rift would have been overwhelming to the average person, and it was to him, despite that he had been able to swallow much of it while maintaining his dignity. fatherhood, the restoration of the jedi order, what had happened to ezra… he was trying to follow his master’s teachings, controlling his emotions so that they did not control him. “you’ve been a good influence for him.”

thinking about ThemTM

Anonymous asked | Favourite Mandalorian Characters? — The Wren Family

generally-scheming​ // Armitage Hux

Hux peered down his nose at his glass, following the proper steps of savoring a new wine as he considered her comment about destruction. They must know about Starkiller, then. Good. Let her spill more and more of her intel in the guise of gloating. The comment about Rens wrinkled his nose, a gesture he hid behind sniffing his wine. And if the absurd pretense of a date meant they were suggesting anything other than professional history, Hux studiously ignored the implication.  “The Knights of Ren are an entire group which I’ve had the misfortune of associating with. You’ll need to be more specific.”  And in doing so, show exactly which cards were in their hand.

Her flirtatious behavior set him on edge.   (And that was exactly the point, wasn’t it?)   He had no doubt the individual across the table would sooner kill him than kiss him, and that, at least, was mutual. Every suggestive whisper or raised eyebrow was met with a narrow-eyed glare or a tightening of his well-practiced emotionless mask. But the mention of his father Brendol cracked the facade, a flash of raw fury lighting up his eyes. Hux smothered the fire and considered his options.

“To disappointing our parents,”  he answered instead, raising his glass to meet theirs. Weighing his words carefully — he had selected this bistro for its acceptance of an Imperially-aligned clientele — he met her gaze with singular intensity.  “Such a decorated figure in his field, my father. I can only imagine how pleased the New Republic would be if anything were to happen to him.”

.

There it was, the flash of emotion behind a facade of indifference. For just a second, this man let go of the carefully crafted mask. Then he quickened back to the haven of professionalism and dug at them, asking her to share what they knew of the Rens. Sabine understood the game. And she knew that he did, too. Perhaps better than anyone they’d had the pleasure of dining with of late. Information could be traded and turned like pawns in a game of chess. And it simply wouldn’t do to lay their playbook out for him to read at his lesiure.

“No, I don’t think I will. You seem like a man who just loves a mystery, Armitage. Besides, a girl’s gotta have their secrets.”

Instead, they zeroed in on his discomfort (anger? hatred, perhaps?) with her casual aside about Brendol. So, they’d guessed right. His name was like a spear, offering a chink in the armor of apathy. She took the gateway with greed, digging a foothold in the injury.

“Oya.” They took a sip of the wine. It would have been pleasant if it didn’t carry so much baggage. But, there wasn’t time for that. The game was in session, and it was Sabine’s turn to move. “I won’t disagree with you on that front. He is quite distinguished and respected, isn’t he? I can only imagine how hard it was for you to grow up in the shadow of such a dignified man. But we’re not here to talk about him, Hux.” They made sure to address him this time by the name shared with his father before echoing his words back at him, “If anything were to happen to him...how would you feel?”

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.”

@pilotheart​ // Zay Versio

This conversation wasn’t something Zay was going to get used to. It was hard for her to keep control of her emotions as Sabine spoke, trying not to smile because of how happy she was — or because, to be honest, the Mandalorian was funny when drunk. She really wished she had a recording device to keep all that stutter with her. And that dancing. At least they both looked stupid. Zay was just as uptight as her mother, and her not knowing how to dance, or just let go, was a direct side effect of it. Others might tell don’t overthink in that kind of moments, but that wasn’t something Zay was able to do right now. “I’ll remember that,” she said with a smile, already a million questions planned. It could wait, though. Zay decided to keep her mouth shut when Sabine talked about their dancing — she’d rather just nod than comment and hurt them. Because if they were actually conscious of what they just told her, Zay needed to tell them the truth. It was going to hurt. And she didn’t want Sabine to get hurt by anything, ever, especially not by her. “You better be really sure about that because I like you, too,” Zay blurted out, not really believing that these words came out so easily. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.” She was sorry about plenty other things, though. But happy Sabine knew at least that now.

Something lept in the pit of the Mandalorian’s gut (and for once it wasn’t the liquor). Manda, Zay liked them back? The confirmation made her want to climb the banisters, to shout from the roof until her throat went sore! They wanted to leap, to-- they didn’t know! Who needed the high when she had her friend’s hand in their own? Had the confirmation that I like you too?!

“Hey.” Sabine sobered as much as she could, just for a moment. They squeezed their friend’s hand once, a pulse they hoped could convey what words could not. “I promise, Zay. I won’t lie to you. I may be. A lot of things--” A soldier. An artist. A killer. A criminal. “--but I won’t lie to you.” 

Then, Sabine did something they never could have imagined they’d have the nerve to do. Sure, it might have been the drink or the drug, but it was also something else entirely, a new electricity brimming from toes to fingertips. In the middle of that crowd, amid the flickering light and the swell of the music, Sabine leaned forward and planted a small kiss on Zay’s cheek, then brushed her hair back so her eyes could shine more clearly in the waning light. They let go of her hand, then stepped back a half pace.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

@naboospage​ // sache

Saché didn’t like any of this one bit. This new reality was coming back at her, way too quickly for her liking - she would have stayed in the shadows forever if she could. It would have been too easy if her peaceful life at the orphanage lasted that long, though. Her alternate had a lifetime here - friends, loved ones. More importantly she had a real network in the Alliance, that Saché had no clue about. Well. She knew what her alternate shared with Yané. Anything else was a complete void. When the holo-message ended, luck was with her. Sabine Wren was more friend than just another member of the Alliance, and Yané actually knew about them. The basics, at least, which where pretty useful anyways. After a quick briefing, Saché had sent a positive reply. She always made time for friends - and apparently that old habit hadn’t died in thirty years. Today was the day her friend was supposed to come, and Saché wasn’t ready for it at all. She had to be, though, because EP - the protocol droid aiding her at the orphanage - opened her office’s door to warn her of Sabine’s arrival. She left her office to find Sabine in the hallway, and greeted them with a warm smile, letting her nervousness aside. “Hello, Sabine,” she said simply. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”It had been a stiff reply, sent with a smile that conveyed more courtesy than amity. Sabine’s mind filled with panic, thoughts racing a system a second through her head. Haar’chak, they were stupid! How long had it been since they had tried contacting Sache? Months? Years? Out on the fringes of the galaxy, Sabine had focused only on herself and her own thoughts. What if her old friend had needed help? What if she had tried to reach them and found nothing but radio static? Did she even want to talk to Sabine? 

It was a stiff reply riddled with a smile that conveyed more courtesy than camaraderie. An influx of emotions swept over the Mandalorian. Haar’chak, Sabine had been stupid! How long had it been since she had tried to contact Sache? Months? Years? Had her friend tried to contact them, only to find radio static? Did she think they had forgotten about her? Did she even want to talk to Sabine?

Still, an invitation had been extended. So, it was with a nervous gait that they slipped through the building into the hallway outside Sache’s office. On the flight through hyperspace, Sabine had run through dozens of conversations in her mind, replaying the scene ahead of them time after time. None of those phantom words could have prepared them for what was actually said, though.

It’s nice to finally meet you. 

Surely this had to be a quip, a retort about how long it had been since their last correspondence. Sabine had been ready for tears, for an embrace, even for a slap in the bucket. But they hadn’t been ready for...whatever was happening here. It caught them off guard. She knew Sache would have changed over time, but how much had truly happened since they last spoke?

“Uh. Er, well.” They couldn’t seem to find the words to match the unease that had settled in the air. “Nice to see you, too, Sache. I-I’m sorry it’s been so long. I really don’t have an excuse, but I’m glad you’re okay, and happy to see you again.”

This was going to be an...interesting reunion.

swishycapes​ // Lando Calrissian

although upon previous encounters, it had been lando’s instinct to continue to treat her like the young teen that he had initially met them as, he was aware on some level now that sabine was an adult. it was enough to prevent him from dissuading her from engaging in some of the more adult-like activities of the evening. if anything, it just happened to make it more amusing.

“well, about time you recognize me as your friend,” he remarked with a chuckle, throwing his arm around her shoulders with a squeeze. “you could pass on that attitude to some of your friends, you know,” he grinned.

“i can think of a few. the one that will be the most fun will require at least a few more companions and a deck of cards. think you could gather up some people?”

Oya, that reply was so stupid! Obviously, he was her friend! Who else would share this many drinks with the Mandalorian? Who else would know the best drinking games? Lando was no favorite among any of the Ghost Crew, but they did know how to have fun! Some other people had already tried to get her to stop consuming so much alcohol, but that was just because they didn’t want Sabine to enjoy the night. Probably thought they were still a little kid. Hmph. At least he knew better! So, at their instructions, she grabbed another dessert and made for the promenade across from the ever-shifting crowd.

“Oh, no problem! Be right back!” They shouted, already halfway across the gallery, waving back with a clueless guffaw.

generally-scheming​ // Armitage Hux

His pulse accelerated when they produced the datapad, its blank screen mocking him with unknown possibilities. But what could she possibly have? Hux had been meticulous about covering his tracks — he’d hired a slicer to remove any trace of him from the security footage at 500 Republica on the night he delivered the infamous Amidala tape. Then he’d gone a step further and airlocked the slicer to eliminate the risk that they would talk.   (Saved him a few credits, too.)   And he had of course searched Alton’s penthouse for bugs. Every time!  Granted, that night at the New Republic fundraiser when he had first met Alton, he had been… thoroughly inebriated   (not by his own design! Damn that Seventh Sister)   and had perhaps not been quite as cautious accompanying Alton back to his ship as was appropriate.   (Appropriate being not at all, but it was too late for that now.)  

But even as reason urged him to tread carefully, pride demanded he call her bluff. Hux returned their gaze with haughty, manufactured confidence.  “I would do nothing,”  Hux said firmly, as if saying it with sufficient authority would make it so,  “Because you have nothing. It does not exist.”  Cold sweat slicked his palms as he waited for her response.

_

His words rang with hollow intent in Sabine’s ears. Of course, he’d try to deny her accusation (no doubt a result of years of practice). She followed his glance once to the datapad and held it lithely in their fingertips, toying with the edge of the screen. He was trying to measure the truth in her words, trying to pry the evidence from them. Fine. She’d lean into the game. (No reward without risk, right?)

“Okay, Armitage. If that’s what you really think, who am I to stop you? After all--” they picked up the datapad, letting the grain of an image flash in his direction  for just a couple of moments before stowing it out of sight. “--I’m sure there are plenty of people who’d like to believe otherwise. Maybe I should take my concerns to them and be on my way.” 

They moved as if readying to leave, examining his face for any reaction. Stealth armor pressed into her skin beneath the dress, vibroblade at their thigh cool to the touch. Cowardly though Sabine thought he was, if there was any chance of a fight, she’d be ready. An inhale and an exhale marked her lungs, and excitement ran electric across the Mandalorian’s skin. The ball was in his court now, and Sabine couldn’t wait to see how he’d play.

@cravked​ // Trilla Suduri

even if she no longer felt any kind of loyalty to the empire, or any dependency on the dark side of the force like she had for so long, it would have been a foolish mistake to label trilla as a nice, friendly person. there was still empathy that blossomed inside of her chest, a desire to help people that she did not like to admit existed, but she was all rough edges on the exterior, intense stares and snappy comments that weren’t necessarily underlain with some kind of care. many pieces of who she had been in the past had been recovered in the last two years of isolation and healing, but there were some aspects of her people skills that still needed work.

navigating their way back to the city is no particular challenge for her. although trilla was not particularly familiar with the area, her senses were especially sharp with the use of the living force around her, sensing problems long before they could arise and correcting appropriately. there’s not much of a nicer place to stop in front of, given where they were. but it was water and food, and a chance for the other to get some assistance better for their own long-term goals.

“no.” it wasn’t an interesting answer by any means as trilla stepped inside of the cantina, glancing back to make sure that they were still following. “i don’t like crowds,” she offered as some half-assed explanation, the truth infinitely more complicated than anything that she was willing to explain to a stranger. but despite the lack of interest that she’d displayed before, she did have some questions for them, waiting until they had seated in an otherwise empty corner. “so what’s someone with armor like that doing stuck in the middle of nowhere?” she knew their reputation, at least. “bounty gone wrong?”

At the mention of their armor, she froze. Once content to explain the significance of the metal, the pride that came with bearing its weight, Sabine now bit the inside of their cheek. After...after everything that had happened to Mandalore, the only strangers that asked questions were the ones who saw the metal she bore as a prize, a husk to be shucked and taken as spoils of war. So often these people thought her disposable, some sick challenge to defeat in order to stake their claim to the only piece of her family she had left. It was a move more than one piece of bantha shit had tried to pull on them before. Trilla didn’t seem like a person with ill intentions; they appeared to be a fatigued traveler, just as herself. But the Mandalorian had been wrong before, and the price for this kind of misjudgment was not forgiving.

“Something like that, yeah.” They exhaled thickly, glancing now across the restaurant, scanning for threats. For escape routes. Their breathing quickened as she remembered all of the times she’d been trapped in places like this. Was it safe here? Was someone after them? Who was this person at the table in front of her, to offer their help and accept no thanks? Muscles tensed, and Sabine forced their breathing to slow down. 

Think, chakaar. You can’t keep yourself safe if you’re not calm. The Empire isn’t here. Just talk.

“I came here on the good word of a friend, looking for information. But, all I got was a busted speeder bike and a waste of my ship’s fuel.” A hush fell as Sabine thought of the lightsaber hilt, lying in wait on Trilla’s waist. Flashbacks of the scarlet blades, of eyes filled with hatred and hearts without mercy. Being hunted ruthlessly as a child, guilty by association. Being hunted now. Fingers drummed anxiously on the table. Surely the person in front of her couldn’t be-- If they’d wanted to kill her, they would have done it by now.

“What about you? Can I ask how you found yourself in this backwater system?”

generalspectre​ // hera syndulla

“  You  know,  it’s  starting  to  get  lonely  on  this  ship.  “  Hera  teases  as  they  stand,  arms  already  wrapping  around  the  colorful  armor  of  their  child.  While  neither  Hera  nor  Jacen  had  much  interest  in  him  becoming  a  jedi,  Luke  would  come  sometimes  and  work  on  control  with  her  son.  Small  things  to  help  him  get  by  in  the  galaxy.  This  was  one  of  those  times.  It  was  hard  to  trust  anyone  but  their  family  with  him,  but  they  knew  that  Jacen  would  be  in  good  hands.  “  But  I’m  proud  of  you.  What  you’re  doing  is  important.  “  

@call-me-spectre-five​​

.

Their praise and embrace brought a smile to Sabine’s lips. The two shared a language outside of the spoken word. When you’ve been to hell and back with your family at your side, there are some things better expressed in the pauses between words, the silence before speech.

“Thank you, Hera. You know I’m always happy to see you.” They dropped their bags in the old cargo room, happy to see her artwork still adorning the walls of the Ghost. “If you ever want to get the little womp rat out of your lekku for a weekend, give me a call.” 

Looking closer, they noticed colorful scribbles on the wall beside her own. Huh. The kiddo wasn’t too old but his control of line, his use of color...it was already well-developed. The thought of her vod’ika taking after them at all made Sabine swell with pride.

“Jacen’s works, I assume?”