Sacreficied​ // Kanan Jarrus

generally-scheming​ // Armitage Hux

Hux scowled, recollecting her irritating and unprofessional banter during their last battle. It had been a week before the petty officers stopped giggling when they thought he wasn’t looking. His eyes darted around the bistro like a cornered animal. They had positioned themself between him and the exit, and Hux was not fool enough to start a knife fight with a Mandalorian.   (Not even one who had foregone beskar for a shimmering gown. At least it met the establishment’s dress code.)   The only move was to stay, figure out how much she really knew, and deny everything.

“No.”  Hux raised a hand to halt the waiter.  “The Merlot from Tal'onidir wineries will do. Two glasses of the most recent vintage.”  As they retreated, Hux turned his gaze back on the Mandalorian rebel.  “The last vintage, that is, before the vineyard burned. But you know all about that. The Empire would never have brought Mandalore so easily to its knees without your contributions, would they, Wren?”

Hux’s expression soured as the name rolled off his tongue. That syllable came preloaded with animosity for a different target; it felt wrong. He refocused on hiding his mounting anxiety. In conversation as on the battlefield, the best defense was a good offense.  “All this wild speculation about my love life, as if I have that kind of time. Does someone have a crush? What ever would your family think? I suppose we’ll never know.”

.

His eyes flitted around the room, no doubt searching for exits. But she knew he wouldn’t act so quickly if he didn’t have to. Hux wasn’t the kind to cause a scene if it could be avoided. They could tell he was starting to get defensive. Good. The anger could easily be mistaken for attack, but Sabine could read him better than that. When he snapped, it was out of pure self-preservation. In this way, Sabine disregarded the comment about the wine, shrugging it off with a wave of her hand. They’d done their research and come prepared. She had time for mourning and regret later, but for a man like this? He didn’t deserve any of her emotions. Instead, eyebrows raised in a practiced flirt, an attempt to sow discontent from the growing tension. They reflected on the informants she’d taken weeks to track down, the spies she’d had to weigh truth and lies from. One specific canary came to the forefront of their mind, and she rephrased their words with a gentle lilt.

“Well, it takes two to tango, doesn’t it, Armitage? And from what I hear, you have quite the taste for destruction, yourself. I mean, I can’t help but notice how familiar my surname is to you. Just a letter away, really. You have history with not one Ren, but two, am I right?”

The server returned with the requested bottle, and she nodded thanks as the glasses filled. Though their stomach churned at the idea of savoring something created by the people she’d helped destroy, Sabine didn’t let that sway her attitude. This persona, this mask, it was carefully curated just for him. (And wouldn’t that just flatter him to know?) There was no time to falter.

“Perhaps they wouldn’t be too pleased. But, then, dear old dad wouldn’t be too proud of your wine and dine with a Mandalorian, would he?”

Sabine smirked into their glass, before raising it in a mock toast.

“To forbidden romances.” They whispered, just loud enough for the general to hear. Perhaps that old adage still held some measure of truth. You can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. And even if it wasn’t right, oh, was it fun.

Holonet Interview

     “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. 

@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?”

❛  can  i  come  with  you ?  ❜ ( from kallus )

Though the war was over, Sabine still found this base to be crowded on occasion; a hangar so close to the Core Worlds had its uses, after all. It was nice to see so many familiar faces, albeit a little overwhelming. But if they were going to leave for the mission, the time was now.

"You know I won't turn down that offer, Kallus." They passed his comlink back, frequency now in tune with the one at her hip. "Besides, I could always use the conversation. Hyperspace can be so boring, you know."

@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?”

xspectre-1​ // kanan jarrus

it had taken kanan years to get here. to feel this comfortable with his emotions… with others. having children had never been the plan, even when sabine and ezra had joined. kanan had insisted they wouldn’t matter– they would be a crew, that was it. 

oh how wrong he had been. 

the family the six had created… it was the reason for their success. for their strength. 

but watching them grow– seeing them now. he couldn’t have guessed how it would have made him feel. how proud he had become. 

kanan smiled a bit, a small chuckle on the edge of his lips. they had always been okay in the end, hadn’t they? perhaps their collective number of loses keeping them from… much. 

but as sabine continued, the small smile fell, perhaps sad to divert so quickly. to face reality. what he had missed– what he had caused even. 

not that the words were expected. 

“what- no, i mean. no more than anyone,” he continued, hands returning to them, worried they might slip away. “i mean, that’s what the rebellion is, isn’t it?”

.

Seeing his smile again...it was like a sunbath after a year of winters, a remnant from a time when her family-- not just one, but both-- had been whole. Years ago, they couldn’t have considered this a possibility. Couldn’t have imagined she’d be standing here on the shining plains of Lothal (a place that held so much shared history for the Spectres). Yet, there she was: in the arms of their parent, now returned to them at last. It was a gentle reminder: in the here and now, the Mandalorian was truly safe. And that was enough.

They almost had to concede a chuckle at his disbelief. She’d seen him perform feats they’d never be able to dream of, had seen him walk through blaster fire alone and blind-- yet return home unscathed. And still he tried to play humble.

“I know it’s hard to believe, right? Who would have thought a knucklehead like you could ever be a war hero?”

She looked up at the mask that adorned his face, the eyes of the jai’galaar still in tact. It had been years since they had painted them on, but for him, it was only a matter of weeks. Months, maybe. Despite the time, she remembered well enough. Those first few nights after Malachor, in the cabin of the Ghost (when words were seldom spoken, but the pain and grief were a shared). Shared by those that loved each other most--

“Dank farrik, Kanan! Have you met with anyone else? Zeb, Hera?”

Therein was hidden the silent question only she knew was being asked of him: did Kanan know about Jacen? Did he know he was a father not only by bond, but also by blood? By the Ka’ra, he needed to know they were safe. He needed to see them healthy, and alive. 

“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.”

📜

Zeb: I prevented a murder today. Sabine: Really? How’d you do that? Zeb: Self control.

@spectreoflasan

@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.”

sacreficied​ // Kanan Jarrus

“thank the force for that,” kanan agreed with an easy smile. it was overwhelming, the kind of pride that jacen brought him. it was also difficult to balance his drive and desire to protect both him and hera along with his commitment to the force, the rebuilding jedi order. it was a precarious balance, one that he was hesitant to speak to any of the older, more experienced masters about. ahsoka would understand, he was certain of that much, but she was not the only approval that he would have liked to have.

a deep breath pulled in through his nose, nodding his head. “it’s good to be back. i never thought i’d live to see a day like this. i mean, i guess i didn’t, but…” beyond his own sacrifice, the beginning of a new republic and new jedi order was monumental. “we’re lucky nonetheless.”

.

Two stood in quite repose as she listened to Kanan’s words soft-spoken. They nodded at his notion of gratitude. A few years ago, there was no way she could have hoped for any of this. There was a time when the pain felt like it would never subside, and it had driven them away from the people that cared about her most. 

“We are. When I-- when we lost you, Kanan, and then Ezra...well, everyone took it pretty hard. Then when the Empire came for Mandalore? Fuck, I thought I’d lost everything. I lost sight of the fact that I still had Hera, Zeb, Kallus, Jacen, and Chopper. And now,” they sighed, uncomfortable with the wellspring of emotions in her chest. “You’re here. Ezra’s here. And that’s more than I could ever ask for.”

She settled back into silence, realizing that this was a lot to put on him. That wasn’t the intent, and they hoped Kanan knew he didn’t have to carry her grief and guilt.

“But, uh. That’s enough about me. How are you holding up?”