Sabine Wren

BANITA  SANDHU  //  have you met  SABINE  WREN  yet?  SHE/THEY  is now a  30  year old  DEMIWOMAN  HUMAN.  they’re originally from  MANDALORE  but typically reside on  THEIR SHIP.  after everything they’ve gone through, she shows loyalty to  THE REBELLION.  they are best known for being a/an  WEAPONS MASTER,  and i hear they’re pretty  INVENTIVE  yet also  STUBBORN  at times; I hope they survive the galactic civil war. ( JO )

L O A D I N G  :  /  /  ...  8ABY  :  MONTH TWO  ...  /  /

balancing his life as a jedi and what he owed, what he wanted to owe, to ghost crew was not an easy task. there had been years where no attempt had been made –– something that had shifted when they had stumbled across ezra, that realization of what, exactly, he was missing in his life. kanan wanted better for himself now. he wanted better for all of them. he wanted to be a better man that he had been in the past.

“what isn’t?” kanan replied back with a slight chuckle, shoulders lifting in a slight shrug to reduce the weight of his own words. corners of his mouth lifted in a slight smile. “i’m grateful for the chance that we all have with this,” he begun, being mindful to choose his own words carefully. “still, i wonder what we’re all looking at with the bigger picture.”

If they hadn’t known better, Sabine would almost say she was concerned for Kanan. Something was obviously eating at him-- but it had always been harder to have these kind of talks with him than with Hera. Still, she nodded at his admission of thankfulness-- with the kind of life they lead, it was no small miracle they had even a handful of people left to care about.

“I know of her. I never met her though. From what I knew, she was an admirable woman.” Jango said, though he was pretty sure she had been aligned with Death Watch.

He hummed and smiled a little “I came across the Mando’ade who had it, he didn’t want it. Which was odd, he certainly had everything needed to be a good Mand’alor.” Jango said, shaking his head a little.

“I held the title once, when I was barely an adult. Shame kept me from coming back and taking it back up. But this…second chance I’ve been given, it was high time I reclaimed it.” He said. He didn’t know how much history Sabine knew, or if the Haat Mando’ade was even mentioned in their history with Death Watch and the New Mandalorian’s victories.

_

They nodded slowly, taking in the response with sobriety. So, he didn’t know her buir, or where she was. Maybe it was for the better, considering his distaste for Death Watch. Then again, Sabine would take any information they could get...

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense. I had that chance when I was younger, too. But I knew it didn’t belong with me. Maybe he felt the same way.”

The next part of the story, she knew parts of, gleaned from the information they’d heard in their youth, coupled with stories of war from the few mandos and clones left alive to remember.

“Right. Better patch up anybody who made it through this kriffing mess.”  Zeb nodded at Sabine’s suggestion. Together they tracked down a cluster of survivors who’d gathered on the fringes of the area that had been scorched nauseatingly clean. There were a few wounded who could be helped by the first aid supplies they’d had on board, but Zeb saw immediately that Lothal was going to need a lot more than they had with them: more medical supplies, more food, more more. 

Though they could tell their reassurance had made some difference, and hells knew Sabine could keep it together when they had to, Zeb sensed the situation was still weighing on them as they worked. He muttered something vague about searching for other survivors to the huddled group around him and stepped aside to speak with her.  “Uh, we should probably round up anybody else who hasn’t made it over here, but….”  They faltered. He’d had more than a few anguished questions about who are these vong and why did they do this to us, questions he had no answers for.  “Karabast. People keep asking me what the hells happened, and who’s gonna protect them now if they come back. … I don’t know what to tell them. How, uh, how you holding up?”

_

The two worked in tandem, a steady silence of unease and anxiety. She could practically feel it in the air around them, in the breaths of each being that now adopted the same pain Zeb and Sabine had known all too well: the pain of losing a home. At least bandaging burns gave her hands something to do other than tremble. 

“Yeah, we should, er...” When her sibling’s demeanor dropped, so did the Mandalorian’s. “Fuck, Zeb, that’s--” Their words wavered. What was there to say? Of course these people were right to be scared- to want answers- but it’s not like she or Zeb knew any more than they did. 

“I’m living, y’know? I’m alive, and I’ve got my family,” (some of them) “which is more than most of these folks can say right now. You?”

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.

“If your flying is really as good as half of the Base makes it out to be, then death shouldn’t even be a concern of ours. Besides-- this mission is supposed to be a piece of cake!”

Still, the shuddering of turbulence gave her reasonable pause. Surely everything would go smoothly on an operation as simple as this...right?

Fingers itched to grasp the vibroblade at her waist, but paused. Of all of their interactions, this was the closest Sabine had come to an actual threat of violence. To hatred-- pure and unadulterated.

“Trust, Armitage, that when you join the silence of my ancestors, no one will mourn you, let alone notice your departure. Despite all your efforts to be remembered, no one will feel joy or pain or heartbreak, because no one will have cared enough about your life to waste the energy.”

Anger read cleanly across their face, cool and unwavering. Motionless.

“At least I have a family, even if they are ghosts. Can you really say the same?”

Sabine: I am not out of control! I'm a law abiding citizen! Kanan: Really? Name one law Sabine: Don't kill people? Kanan: That's on me. I set the bar too low.

(bonus!)

Sabine: I think I'm having a mid-life crisis. Kanan: You're like 15 years old Sabine: I MIGHT DIE AT 30!

...listen bestie there were too many good results to choose just one...

@generally-scheming 

Hux: You often use humor to deflect trauma Sabine: Thank you Hux: I didn't say that was a good thing Sabine: What I'm hearing is, you think I'm funny

_

Sabine: What is your biggest weakness? Hux: I can be uncooperative. Sabine: Okay, can you give me an example? Hux: No.

_

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

Jango raised a brow at their name “Clan Wren? Any relation to Ursa?” He asked curiously. He hadn’t had many dealings with Clan Wren, but he knew of them. He could tell she was entirely sure who he was. He couldn’t deny that it amused him a little.

“Jango Fett. And I’d prefer talking over a fight anyway, so I have time.” He chuckled, reaching out and gripping Sabine’s hand in greeting.

“I assume you’re wanting to know how I ended up with the saber?” He asked, taking another sip of his drink.

_

The conversation was one surprise after another. Just when Sabine thought they had a grip on the history, the shared experience of the Mando’ade...an anomaly would hurl towards her from out of left field. Against their will, her calm demeanor was splintered with all of this new information.

“Yes, she’s my buir. You know her?”

Immediately, Sabine wanted to jump to defense. She’d not been a fanatic of Death Watch (as their mother had once been)-- wasn’t a supporter of the needless violence and discord-- but from what she’d heard, this man had done a fine job in his tirade against them. It was with caution that they proceeded, steeling their gaze as she took the drink the bartender placed before her.

a huff of laughter pushed out of his nose and he nodded his head in agreement. no, something being hard had never discouraged them all from doing something –– it had only made them get a little more creative with how they had approached it. but he would give the others credit for that before himself, easily viewing them all as vastly superior to his own. he had his own strengths, that was just one that he saw being more advanced in the others.

“oh, absolutely,” kanan agreed with a deep chuckle escaping, giving a nod of his head as his arms folded across his broad chest. they would have all been lost without hera, not just him –– something that he was painfully aware of. “we’d all be lost without them.”

a beat passes, something heavier clearly laying on his mind from the crease between his brow. “if i had to choose between, i know the choice i’d make. i just hope i never have to make that choice.”

Their smile turned somber once again with his dire words of sacrifice and loss. He doesn’t have to tell her the choice he’d make because they’d already lived it. The aftermath of his decision to protect Hera, to protect all of the crew that Sabine called aliit--  it weighed on them both. Weighed on all of the Spectre crew, really, but it sat in between them in the here and now.

Sabine’s stillness slowed her slightly, gaze careful as she stopped a foot or so away from them. Clear shock, teary eyes, so much older - Ursa knew that the time she had missed must have held nothing good for her, for her family. A protective feeling rose up in her chest, fiercely defensive. Whatever had happened, she was here now. And she would not leave so quickly.

“Of course, ad’ika.” It was not an endearment she often used, reserved for when she thought her children needed most comfort. (And frankly, she had usually let Alrich handle the comforting. He was far better at it than she ever had been.) Her free hand flexed at her side, half reaching out to them and half reserved. “I’m alright, Sabine.”

It didn’t make sense. Mandalore, Krownest, they were in ruins. The only reason she hadn’t died in the Purge was because she’d been on the other end of the galaxy with another family. They’d long ago left hope for Clan Wren behind because it hurt too much. It hurt now, seeing the parent they’d given up on standing before her.

“Mom, I spent so much time running when I. I should have... I should have looked for you, and Dad, and Tristan’ika. I’m so sorry, I should have looked harder, should have--”

She couldn’t stop the words from tripping over their tongue, the tears from staining the careful paint of their mother’s armor as she accepted the outstretched arm, pulled themself into Ursa’s arms.

Bly flushed a little in pride, glancing down at their armor “Ah, thank you. I’ve had the designs since I left Kamino.” They told her, patting a hand over the design that matched the tattoos on their cheeks.

“Honestly? Not really. I just haven’t seen a Mandalorian outside the ones Prime had train us. Word was that no Mando’ade considered us one of them so I’ve kept my distance.” They admitted with a shrug, holding out their hand. “Commander Bly,” they introduced themselves before frowning and chuckling “I don’t know if I still hold my rank, but I don’t have a last name so I’ve just kept it.”

_

Their response to the compliment was endearing, and immediately Sabine smiled, eyes still tracing over their use of color and line on the worn armor. It was a familiar hue, one native to their forgotten family back on Krownest...

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Bly. I’m Sabine.”

As she shook their hand, the Mandalorian thought on Bly’s words about belonging and identity. Though they hadn’t personally known any clones who’d held the title Mandalorian, she saw no reason why they couldn’t claim the heritage. After all, the children of Mandalore weren’t race, but creed.

Jango sighed and pulled his helmet off before he noticed the Mando coming his way. If they had spotted the darksaber, he wasn’t about to fight in a crowded bar, so he hoped they were reasonable. 

He sipped at his drink as he watched the other approach and raised a brow at her, gesturing to the empty seat across from himself “Not business. But I suppose that depends on if you’re looking for a drink or a fight, burc’ya.” he said with a chuckle.

He hadn’t been challenged yet, but he was sure it wouldn’t be long. He’d do all he could to retain the saber and his pride. He’d even finally repainted Jaster’s symbol on his pauldron. 

_

The reveal of the warrior’s face was disorienting, to say the least. She’d seen that countenance a few times before, had shared meals and battlefield and laughter with someone who held the same lines of worry and laughter. Was this man a clone? But, then, why did he have the armor of a Mandalorian? For now, they resolved, all she could do was listen.

“Oh, I think you misunderstand me, friend. I don’t-- Er, I really don’t want that saber. I’m no leader, trust me. I’m just interested in how it’s traded hands since I last held it.”

They motioned for the bartender to bring another of whatever he was drinking, taking the seat across from him with a smile and an extended hand.

reading people had always something naturally to trilla, no doubt through their connection with the force. predicting people’s behaviors had been particularly honed by the empire: it had made them a good hunter. this was something personal for the mandalorian, bloody reminders of history painted all over the room. to them, she imagined, it probably felt like some kind of mockery.

“i see,” they remarked coolly, personally unbothered by it. it’s not as though it would have any affect on her, or anything that impacted her. she shrugged. “truthfully, i’d assumed you were one of those new republic types.” she’d only gotten in with her association with cal and his with the order, assumed something similar for them. “perhaps you’re more interesting than i gave you credit for.”

The smile was a little less sour than before as they savored another sip of the free beverage. Of course, Trilla wouldn’t be in danger of spilling their plans. Sabine had suspected from their first unusual encounter that they were of a similar mindset about the unsavory restrictions that laws could provide.

“I appreciate the New Republic for what it is and what it does, but I’ve always valued being able to work with a little more freedom than they can offer.” 

Meeting the gaze of their friend, Sabine motioned to place a hand on their arm, but hesitated, instead adjusting the fabric of her own dress.

“And, hey, I’m plenty interesting, Trilla. In fact, I’d offer to buy you a drink if I didn’t know you already had a special friend here and business to attend to. I’ll let you get back to them, but uh--” the smile turned upward into a smirk, “--don’t have too much fun.”