Kryzeofmandalore​ // Korkie Kryze

@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

there had been a long time when kanan did not have to concern him about attachment for others. in the period between the order falling and hera finding him, there had been no one for him to attach himself to. the order hadn’t cared about sex, and he’d never let anyone or anything be more than that. but as he had regained his connection with the force, began to incorporate that into his life again… attachment and connection was something that he had thought a lot about.

“kind of,” he paused for a moment before offering more information. “we’re not supposed to let it control us –– attachment, or love itself, or… the fear of losing it control or guide us. it’s easier said than done.” he tried to live by that, still. it was why years ago he’d told ezra to take over, well aware that his attempts to save hera would be affected by his love for her.

still, kanan did not regret a thing. if it came to a choice, he would choose hera and the rest of his family. he’d always been the ‘ do as i say, not as i do ’ type anyway. “well, no one ever said any of us were wise,” he quipped back with a grin of his own cracking across his features.

Sabine listened with a focused intent as he spoke, trying to make meaning of her friend’s words. For all of the jokes and bullshit banter, they did like hearing Kanan talk. Liked learning about his creed and the family he once belonged to. 

“‘Easier said then done.’ That should be our crew’s tagline, huh?”

They paused on the notions of love and control and possession and guidance. She traced through their memories, wondering just how many actions had been driven by the desire to protect someone they cared about. More, it seemed, were inspired by the instinct than not. Whether it made them smart, or wise, she couldn’t say. Mandalorian or Jedi, everyone had to find a way to cope with the inevitability of feeling.

“Y’know, if I had to bet my money on the wisest of us, it’d probably be Hera. Sometimes I think they’re smarter then all of us combined.”

@spectrcsix 

Star Wars: Rebels // First and last episodes

@spectreoflasan​ // Zeb Orrelios

“I am cool,” Zeb snapped. “You know what’s not cool? Karking up your guts before it’s even hit kriffing midnight because you don’t know how to hold your liquor.” Karabast, he’s going to have to set a good example, isn’t he. With once last wistful glance at the mutlicolored and very potent-looking drink in their hand, Zeb slid it down the bar to the person on their other side and grumbled, “Knock yourself out, mate. You! Barkeep! Two waters, now.” Zeb’s gruff edge lingered as he turned back to Sabine. “Now hydration, that’s cool. You want to actually enjoy your drinks? Then pace yourself.”

Oh, for the love of Alderaan. ‘Hydration, that’s cool’ ?  Zeb had never felt so old in their kriffing life. But that’s what Sabine needed right now. Guilt twisted his stomach as they stumbled against him. Hadn’t Zeb’s lousy excuse for a parallel-timeline counterpart bothered to teach her to drink properly? Zeb set a steadying hand on Sabine’s shoulder, even as their last comment provoked a growl. “And for the last time, Kallus is not my boyfriend. ‘Sides, he’s in no state to be looking after anybody right now.”

“I w-would hold my liquor fine! If you would give it back to me!” They yelped as he pawed her reaching hand away. (Heh. Pawed). They shot the bartender a nasty glare and tried standing on her own. Feet felt like lead and head too thin, and the metal of the counter dug into their skin. 

“Zebbbbb, don’t you think I deserve a drink after the shit year I’ve had?! W-why not! Why not get fuck-king shitfaced?” She huffed. This had to be a joke. First all of the-- the shit! The shit with Ezra and Kanan and Mandalore, and-- and it hurt! It hurt and it was scary and it made her hands shake and her chest tight and!  And they just wanted it to mute, just for a moment! Moisture pooled at their eyes as Zeb spoke, as they responded. At his words, her face fell immediately, turning from anger and fear to...to something that ached deeper. Something was wrong. Something was really wrong.

“Wh-what do you mean he isn’t your boyfriend? Did. Did something happen?”

❛  i wish it wasn’t true .  ❜ –– from trilla

“Yeah, um.” They gently kicked up some of the dirt that coated the ground, tracing a pattern of anxiety into the earth. “Me too. Maybe in a better galaxy somewhere, this wouldn’t have happened, but, uh. But we’ve gotta play with the cards we’re dealt, huh?” They asked, albeit halfheartedly. Still, if she had to pick someone to go through this with, Trilla wasn’t a bad choice.

@cravked 

pilotheart​ // Zay Versio

Well, that was smooth, uh? Zay wasn’t good at talking. Especially when she was worried, and her friend’s attitude was worrying her. It wasn’t a good new at all. Arriving in that time, Zay had decided she wasn’t going to get too attached to anyone - she couldn’t afford it when a relationship was based on a lie, right? But there she was. She had been lucky that Jyn understood it. She wasn’t sure that Sabine would, once the truth would go out. If it ever did. “No.” Zay shook her head. “You’re not that straightforward.” Not that Zay didn’t like it. Even if Sabine was drunk, or high, or whatever - and probably didn’t think it.

 “Oh,” was all they could find to say, a hollow ringing making its way through her ears. Was that real? Or the roar of a crowd and the hum of instrumentalists flickering in and out of her periphery? But try as they might, the Mandalorian couldn’t focus on that noise because they couldn’t take their eyes off of her friend. They listened with intent, face falling a little at Zay’s response. I must be a kriffing loser when I’m sober, huh?

“W-well, why not? I must be di’kutla for never having the gett’se to ask you on a proper date.” 

The music swelled up to a crescendo, filling her with a new sense of bravado. If they didn’t ask now, would they ever? Something fluttered in the pit of her stomach, but instead of pushing it away, they let it carry her forward, closer to the friend they found so enthralling. 

“Zay Farren, may I have this dance?”

 mvchinery​ // Depa Billaba

confusion colored her expression at the near instant recognition, because as much as she wanted to, depa couldn’t return it by face alone. still, she shook the stranger’s hand after returning their items, mustering a friendly smile.

at their name, though, she brightened far more genuinely, her smile broadening. “oh, sabine ! kanan mentioned you. it’s lovely to meet you too.” she didn’t know too much about the rest of the ghost crew, but she had been looking forward to meeting them. they were kanan’s family, & she was glad he had found such a good group to have his back. “i would love to get to know you.”

The warm reception was enough to give pause to the anxiety in the pit of her stomach. This woman was someone Kanan looked so highly up to. Surely it was important the Mandalorian make a good first impression, and bumping into the Jedi hadn’t exactly been the ideal start.

“Likewise! Sorry, I’m not, uh--” they readjusted the straps on her messenger bag and swept a stray piece of hair out of her face. “I’m usually more put together than this,” Sabine said with a light chuckle. “D’you, er...Do you have time to talk?”

@xspectre-1​ // Kanan Jarrus

as soon as kanan heard her voice, it was clear that questioning wasn’t necessary. a little older– more hardened, perhaps, but it was sabine. he wouldn’t even question the fact that his hand had to be raised higher than he remembered. instead, arms moved to wrap around her, her own distress clear enough. 

as if she hadn’t seen him in years. 

regardless, as she spoke he slowly pulled away, desperate for some sort of answer. an  explanation for what the hell had just happened. 

lothal, that he knew it was… why, why he wasn’t on the same lothal. “i, i know that– last i remember you, ezra and zeb had just left– i was going after hera,” he blinked under his mask, trying to make sense of all of this himself. 

His arms engulfed them in a warm embrace, and she stiffened, then melted into his side. They didn’t worry about the tears staining his shirt, didn’t care that their face was buried into his neck. He was real. He was back, and he was real. She knew so many people the Rift had brought through time (for better or worse), but this? This was nothing short of a miracle.

“Kanan,” she muttered, breaking away, but still drinking in his image. He was the same as they remembered. Messy hair, hand-painted mask, dirt-crusted boots. Here she was now, holding onto his hand, still on her cheek, like a lost child. “I can’t believe it’s you. I-- I mean. I.” They paused, taking in a breath. How do you explain that you’ve missed your parent for years, while he’s only missed a beat? “Kanan, that was...over seven years ago.” She let his fingers cup her cheek, smiling through tears. “We won. Our family, the whole Rebellion. Buir, we won.”

@beskarbuir​ // din djarin

──   UNEASE  ABIDES  IN  THE  AIR,  so gently thawing but not dispelled,  and there is hesitation toward the outstretched palm.  however,  when the first word is shared between a common  (  yet scarce to many  )  tongue,  he finds himself already gripping theirs in a firm greeting.  he couldn’t help but echo their words,  ❝  su cuy’gar,  vod  …  as do i.  ❞   there is solace in their native salutation,  like water trickling a parched throat.  a beat passes as he stands and observes,  still puzzled by the other’s presence and speculating their origins.   decoration and individualization is frequent within their numbers,  though he hadn’t seen this particular motif.   nor do they follow the markings of bo-katan’s faction,  intricate in their cobalt hues.   the only solid conclusion that arrives is that they are not of the tribe,  not of nevarro  ─  and now only the unexpected is awaited. 

gaze keeps steady on the other’s visor.  ❝  you’re after the bounty,  right ?  ❞   an obvious question,  one intending to draw both a ‘yes’ and an elaboration,  if willing.   he wants to ask,  how long have you been here ?  though it borders on too personal.  do you follow the creed ?  the stories taught to me ?  i know you don’t,  but i had hoped  ─  even if i knew better,  i hoped.  lips purse,  and none of this is spoken.  it never is. 

instead,  he treads forwards with a truth.   ❝  i hadn’t heard of any other within the guild. not for a very long time.  ❞   he would of known,  or heard of remnants at the very least   ─   so why does one stand before him ?

The handshake is firm, and words returned in earnest. Sabine is...attuned to this person’s pain, can feel what hurt lingers in unspoken words. This is an ache she knows all too well. The ghosts of their people haunt every last Mandalorian that lives. While there is a flicker of hope, it sits heavy in the loss. 

There are questions, so many of them, pooling on their tongue, waiting to break the conversation. What clan do you belong to? Who were your people? How did you survive? Do you know anyone else in the faith? They push the inquiries aside, sure the person in front of them wants to ask, too. There is a time and place for that. Those things can be learned later. For now, there are introductions to be made and a bounty secured.

“The bounty, yes. One of the only reasons I’d visit this sandhole, I think,” they joke, and hope it is received well. Of all the weapons in her arsenal, perhaps the most used is humor. “I guess the reason you haven’t heard from the Guild is because I don’t really do my dealings with them.” Sabine weighs what they want to say, careful of where the other Mandalorian’s allegiances lie. “I mean, I follow the code, when I do decide to take a job. But I’m not strictly a hunter by profession. Just something to keep the ship flying and stomach full, you know?”

They pause, watching their acquaintance's body language for any signs of aggression. They notice that this warrior’s armor is pure, practically untarnished by paint and wear. She allows herself to wonder where they got it, and how recently. Was it new, or did they just take meticulous care of it?

“But, I gather this is your profession. Look, I don’t mean to step on any toes-- I can go if you’d like-- but perhaps we could work the job together?”

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?”