generally-scheming // Armitage Hux
Another ostentatious gala. Hux had no choice but to attend now that the Hapes Consortium’s alliance with the New Republic posed a threat. This time Hux kept to the shadows at the edge of the party, only listening — and certainly not eating or drinking anything he was offered. As Hux checked the time, his shoulders tensed. He’d heard of the preposterous New Republic tradition of kissing as the clock struck midnight, and he knew Alton Kastle was at this party. He hoped the reporter would not be foolish enough to try something so incriminating in public. Sure enough, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Hux mentally prepared his ‘we mustn’t, not here, we can’t be seen,’ but as soon as he turned he stopped dead.
“Not you.”
.
Sabine should have expected he’d be at a party like this. Nothing like a gala to bring out both the best and worst in the galaxy. They shouldn’t have been surprised when she noticed the general standing on the edges of the party, no doubt sulking too much to enjoy a drink or two. Pity.
“What’s wrong, Armitage? Expecting someone else?”
She took a short sip from the drink poised delicately in their hand. Something light and fruity, and nothing too alcoholic; there was work to be done, after all. But that plot wouldn’t be set in motion for another hour or two. For now, they had time to mill around, to act as though she wasn’t standing on the bones of her people.
“That’s, what, two dates now? And still no first kiss. I’m starting to feel like you don’t like me, Armitage.”
@cptfulcrum // Alexsandr Kallus
It was times like this where Kallus thought about how young Sabine and Ezra had been when the war had started. They were not much older than children, yet to the enemy they had been heinous rebels. No remorse for even an orphan like Ezra, who had learned to survive. He had chased them like dogs. As they spoke to him he sighed. He knew all about that. The Empire had instilled so many beliefs in him and it had taken two times as much work for him to realize that the brainwashing was just that. He was a cog in the machine, no one special. There was so much he could actually do. It was liberating when he had finally started asking questions, gaining an awareness. The cloud had been lifted. It sounded similar for his Mandalorian friend. “ You are right of course….. Not everyone has the same idea of peace. “ his peace had been sitting on his porch with Zeb, actually able to take a breath of fresh air. A home that was his. What was his peace now?
It was easy for him to notice how Sabine was able to turn things back to him and how poorly he was doing. But he didn’t want to think about that now, Zeb back on Lira San, abandoned by Kallus to go on some self serving mission to capture Thrawn, only stopping because he was worried about his friends. His jaw clenched and he looked away again. He couldn’t explain this, not to anyone. “ Zeb’s been fighting a long time. Longer than many of us. I don’t….. I can’t pull him back in. He deserves peace more than anyone I know. “ his tone is guarded now and when he looks back, his eyes are colder. No one would agree with him more than the Ghost Crew, but he needed to make his intentions clear. Kallus knew that Zeb could and would make his own choice if need be, but he didn’t want it to come to that point.
He shouldn’t be so tense with Sabine. The Ghost Crew had changed his life, gave him something to actually make it worth while. What would he be without them? Still, Garazeb made him question everything to begin with, called him friend when he deserved anything but. He would protect the Lasat with all he had. “ A drink sounds nice. “ he agreed, eyeing them. “ I don’t mean to be…. Harsh. I just don’t want to pull him back into this. Not unless he really wants to. I just want him to be happy, Sabine. You must understand that. “ He pulled his jacket closer to him, “ Do you have a cantina in mind? “
Tension permeated the air as her friend tightened his jaw. Sabine noticed the turning in his eyes, the shift from comfort to pain. They realized in that instant that their advice may have been too critical, could have come off as blaming this man for caring too much. That’s the last thing she wanted to convey. She knew how much Kallus meant to Zeb. How much they both meant to each other.
“Kallus, I think I...might not have explained myself well.” They took a breath, chose their words with more caution this time, careful not to seem judgmental. “I’m not blaming you, my friend,” they said with hesitancy as they reached down to wipe a smudge of dirt off the pigment of her armor. It needed a repainting soon, they noted.
“I understand how much you care for Zeb. For-- Well, for all of us.” They held his gaze, hoping to show him how much she cared too. “I just worry, is all. Well, I. And, I know-- I know we’ve been through...similar experiences.” They gritted their teeth through a smile and nodded. “I really don’t blame you one bit, Kallus. I just want you to be careful. For Zeb.” For all of us. They wiped the corner of their eye quickly, ignoring the moisture that had formed there. They’d both been through so much. This war had cost them both so much.
“C’mon, the Twisted Mynock Cantina is just a couple of klicks from here. Besides, I’ve gotta return this speeder bike to some old smuggler by sundown.”
As the two walked to where their bikes were parked, Sabine reached up, slowly, and placed their hand on Kallus’s shoulder. They had more in common than either of them cared to admit.
“I could really use that drink right about now.”
@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.”
❛ do you think i’m stupid ? ❜ (From Alton)
“Not necessarily.” She spoke was clarity and precision, every word punctuated with a sharpened edge. They held no love for the man who had smeared her family’s names and painted them as traitors during the birth of the Rebellion.
“Quite the opposite, in fact. Someone who profits on the suffering of others needs to have some level of intelligence to survive as long as you have.”
Their voice remained steady. She would not give him the satisfaction of emotion.
“You’re cruel, and you’re cowardly, but you’re not stupid. If you really want to know what I think of you--” they smiled, though it was empty and devoid of emotion, “--just know, it’s not fear or anger. I pity you, Alton.”
@cptfulcrum // Alexsandr Kallus
Kallus knew, just as much as the rest of them, how easy it was to be alone. Solitary had been his comfort. As an ISB agent they were conditioned to be on the outside. They weren’t in the same chain of command as the rest of the Imperial Navy. They were internal affairs, never trusted. His career had been based in solitude. He hadn’t realized until he joined the Rebellion that maybe he did prefer the company of others. Others like the Spectres, like Zeb and Hera and Sabine. “ You don’t need to explain yourself. “ he countered, finally relaxing his stance, hands moving into the pockets of his jacket. “ But do not feel the need to go through life without us. We are here for you. “
His eyes studied their face, watching the way their stance relaxed slowly. Alexsandr didn’t want Sabine to feel the need to assure him that everything was okay, but he understood the reasons why. It was easy to forget that they had been at the Imperial Academy. It was a lesson ingrained from the very beginning, to not let emotions cloud ones judgement. It was something he had taken to heart. As a Mandalorian, he assumed it was second nature to them. “ I am glad then. “ he didn’t believe them, but he also wouldn’t argue now. Not when he had just come back.
“ We’ve been integrating Lira San with the New Republic. Very slowly. Understandably, many are apprehensive. Some survivors from Lasan believe that another attack in imminent. “ he spoke mechanically, not allowing his own guilt from the event to break through. Sabine knew enough about his past. “ Garazeb is well, if that’s what you are wondering. Though he misses his family. “ he met their eyes again, raising his brows. “ If it can be believed, we have found as close to a retirement as possible for soldiers. “ At least they had, before Ezra and their guilt. Now his mission for Thrawn. “ I haven’t heard any updates on you as of late. What have you been doing ?? “
Sabine examined Kallus’s face while he spoke, studying how he measured his words and weighed his expressions before speaking to them. There was more he wanted to say, she was sure, but they weren’t about to pry. His words echoed in their ears. We are here for you.
Dank farrik, Sabine had been stupid. With their wandering about the galaxy with no contact, it was not surprising that Zeb had sent Kallus to check on her. The rest of the Ghost crew, they must be worried. That same feeling of shame boiled in the pit of their stomach, but they smiled to Kallus, nodding as he spoke about her old friend and his people. She knew how difficult it must be for Kallus to be on Lira San, how guilty he must feel. Still, they knew how hard he was trying-- and how much it meant to Zeb that he was there.
“I am...glad to hear you and Zeb are doing well.” She paused, wondering if they should voice their next thought. “You...deserve that, you know. A peaceful life away from the politics and danger of it all. You both do.”
When nothing was said to fill the silence between them, Sabine continued, finally answering the question she had been trying to avoid.
“I guess you haven’t heard from me because I haven’t really been in the action. I’m still with the Rebellion, just not in the heart of the fight. At least, not right now. I’ve been...” They hesitated, knowing that whatever she said would be repeated to her old friend. “I mean, you know how slow it is, trying to chase dead leads on information for the Rebellion. It’s an unreliable business. But, I’m glad you’re settled down now. Your days of action over, right?”
“What is your full name (middle name included)? Does it have meaning from your home planet?”
“Sabine Wren is my given name. Sabine is an ancient family name, tracing back to some great-great-grand-something ancestor that helped defend their clan from a mythosaur attack, as the legends go. And Wren because it’s my clan’s surname.” They paused, considering. “I don’t have a middle name. In my clan, we grow into those, kind of like nicknames. I-- I. Well, I didn’t get to that point with my family.”
“Have you committed any crimes? How many, and what were the reasons behind some?”
“Ha!” They chuckled from beneath the painted visor. “Have I committed any crimes? Believe it or not, I was in one of the first Rebel cells to fight back against the Empire. Phoenix Squadron caused any kind of trouble you can imagine. Larceny, arson, smuggling, and my personal favorite: destruction of Imperial property. It’s really an art form, if you ask me.”
“Describe your hands (dirt under the nails, weather-worn, etc.).”
“Well, they’re just about what you’d expect from a Mandalorian. And a mechanic, at that.” She pulled off the leather gloves coated in a film of dust and oil. “See here? That scar’s from a probe droid that exploded a little too close for my comfort. Actually, I think there might still be a bit of shrapnel in there somewhere. But, yeah, cracked and scarred. Still good to repair a droid or fire a blaster, though.”
“Would you run or fight in a battle? What are the causes?”
“Oh, fight, of course. My people aren’t well-known for running, are we? I try not to take life when I don’t have to, but if it’s between that and the slavery and oppression of a corrupt bureaucracy like the Empire? Fight, no question.”
“What did your childhood home look like? Have you gone back as an adult?”
“Depends on which one you mean. I was raised on both Mandalore and Krownest, though I’ve only visited one in adulthood. After the Empire slaughtered my people...well, needless to say, I haven’t ventured back to Mandalore. And it’s been years since I’ve last seen the ice plains of Krownest. I’m not particularly eager to visit either any time soon.”
She shook their helm wearily, feeling uneasy about this entire interaction.
❛ don’t waste the time i don’t have . ❜
“Oh, but, general,” she countered in a dry whisper, toying with the hem of his collar, as though brushing off some loose dust. “I think you have plenty of time for me. I think you want to know exactly what I have to say, because you can’t stand the thought of someone holding information over your head. Besides, I know you have nowhere better to be than the lap of another Imperial or holonet reporter. Isn’t that right, Armitage?”
@generally-scheming
@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.”
Location: Kalarba, the ruins of Hosk Station
From orbit, the planet seemed scarred. Every plants’ branches had snapped, and every leaf was coated in a film of ash. Rolling pits littered the surface where life had once teemed in abundance. Grey mist hung in the air, a bitter mixture of smoke and ash from the searing flames of debris. Some fires, still lit, pulsed hungrily around them like a gundark in desperate search of its prey.
Iden had sent Sabine a brief manifesto detailing everything the Rebellion knew about the crash-- which was, unfortunately, not much. What had piqued their interest, however, was the apparent villain behind this new act of terrorism. Supposedly, those who had witnessed the damage firsthand seemed to have reason to suspect Imperials-- or, at least, their technologies. The simple thought of this was enough to make Sabine’s stomach churn in unease. If it was true, if that broken system of oppression had returned to take the lives of so many people...well, it wouldn’t help them sleep at night.
When she had read the name written on Iden’s message and quickly realized it was unfamiliar to her, the mission seemed suddenly less solemn.They liked to stay relatively connected within the social network of the Rebellion (though it was always possible to miss a few people along the way). Sabine knew next to nothing about this person-- and that’s exactly what compelled her to greet his arrival with a smile and an outstretched hand.
“Cal Kestis, I assume? Nice to meet you. The name’s Sabine Wren.”
@lcstpadawan // cal kestis
@lcstpadawan // Cal Kestis
nothing substitutes good working parts at the end of the day, but there’s usually enough of that to be found in scraps if you know where to look. and cal did it for years, threw himself into it for so long he almost forgot who he was meant to be. between sabine and bd1, it should be easy enough to figure out a way to communicate with someone in the new republic to come and pick them up, he just needs to be patient, pick out the workable equipment from this mess.
“well then we should be fine.” he says with a smile as they get to work. he doesn’t know sabine but so far she’s been more than helpful, comfortable company to have on a mission - something he’s not necessarily used to, but he’s more than happy for it. he picks apart enough to get some workable equipment, melding some of it together himself and passing others over to sabine when he’s not sure where they could come in handy, chipping away until -
“huh? what’d you find?” he asks, pushing himself up to head over to her. there’s plenty to find here if you actually look for it so he’s not all that surprised. “something that’s gonna help us get home?”
.
Paint was more than familiar to Sabine, something that ran in their family’s history. It could animate narratives and express what words never could, capturing a single moment in time for as long as the paint stood dry. It was functional, a protective layer for any precious metal hidden beneath its touch. The Mandalorian prized themself in recognizing hues and guessing the origin of art supplies just by their appearance, their texture. The markings on this scrap heap, however, were nothing if not foreign to her.
“I’m not sure.” She studied the metal, the scratches on what seemed to once be the hull of a small transport, perhaps a bomber? Or stealth fighter? Whatever it was, it was confusing, an insignia hastily scrawled then abandoned.
"This transport...I’ve never seen any markings like this before. I-I don’t know where they’re from,” she mumbled, searching for any remains of the ship among the wreckage. Not twenty yards away, there it sat, torn to pieces and half-buried. How had the two missed that? Sabine hastily captured images on their datapad, then turned to her new acquaintance.
“Cal, d’you think this subspace transceiver is salvageable?”
@naboospage // Sache
Naboo was a unique world, and its capital was just as unique in its own way. Saché loved Theed, even if she missed the city’s natural look from her childhood. It had been shaped by the Trade Federation and the Empire, now looking like a whole new city compared to what it used to be. Even with that Saché knew the streets by heart and she led Sabine through places that Saché thought the Mandalorian would love to see. There was a lot of ways to go from the spaceport to the house Yané purchased all these years ago. Saché loved nothing more than changing her path every now and then. She also loved watching how guests reacted to it, finding out that her ideas where the right ones. “We have plenty of space for you, don’t worry!” Sabine’s reactions were definitely rewarding, Saché walked silently to let them enjoy some peaceful time for once. “We’re good,” Saché said fondly. “She knows me better than anyone, so we rarely argue. And when we do it’s more a discussion than a real argument.” Saché knew how lucky she was. They’d been so young when they first met, and their relationship could have been crushed easily by the time they spent apart when Saché was too busy at the assembly. But they held on, being friends first and lovers second. It was still the same four decades later. “Did you find anyone interesting while I wasn’t there?” Her voice was teasing, and she winked. Sabine didn’t have to answer if they weren’t comfortable with it, and Saché wanted them to know it.
.
Sabine’s eyes were drawn to the architecture they passed, gaze raising to meet the tops of businesses and homesteads alike. It all looked so delicate, detailed, and intricate. The artists that crafted such marvels deserved praise. It almost reminded them of the towering frescoes of Mandalore. For a place so storied in bloodshed and war, you wouldn’t think it a place as layered with art as any other planet; but, it was there, if only you knew where to look...
Even as they awed, the Mandalorian found themself listening intently to her friend, smiling at the happiness her friend seemed to share with Yane. It was a love well-deserved, after all the women had been through.
“That’s so great to hear, Sache. You’ve always been a fantastic team.”
Her question did tug a bit at their gut, though. Oh, there was someone the Mandalorian had their eyes on, but whether or not she was looking back was the question. Wistfulness passed over Sabine’s face for just a moment before flickering into a smile. They were unsure whether to brush it off with a joke or to be honest. Maybe her friend could help? There was a weird twist in the gut as they responded.
“To be honest, I’m not sure. There’s one person, but.” She exhaled, carding a hand through her hair. “It’s hard to tell if she likes me back. And I don’t know how to tell her...I mean, I don’t know how you and Yane did it,” they laughed, then exhaled heavily. It was weird to talk about, but they knew Sache was a good listener, knew she cared.
Artist. Madalorian. Weapons Master. Rebel. "My friends make the impossible possible." // RP account for galacticshq
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