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 ... / /
a few months into 7aby, sabine started to regain communications with friends and family after isolating to deal with the aftermath and grief that her actions in the rebellion caused.
she attends the new republic fundraiser, where they become much too inebriated to think straight. ZEB ORRELIOS has to step in to make sure she doesn’t do anything too regrettable.
seeking answers, they travel to mandalore to try and reconcile some of the guilt she is feeling about its destruction. there, she finds legendary mand’alor TARRE VIZLA, and over time, the two become family close friends.
they meet up with ALEXSANDR KALLUS and help him with a tattoo that carries its own significance for the ex-imperial.
sabine confronts ARMITAGE HUX about his affair with holonet reporter ALTON KASTLE, threatening to release an incriminating image that could spell trouble for his career as a general of the first order.
loathing the hapan people for their distasteful display of colonized mandalorian artifacts, sabine plans with THE GHOST CREW and a few other mandos to reclaim the weapons and armor at the gala.
instead, they are faced with destruction unparalleled, forced to work with ARMITAGE HUX until finding an unconscious and injured mandalorian (PAZ VIZSLA). without knowing his adherence to the creed, they remove his helm and drag him to safety, stabilizing his head injury for as much time as is available. they leave before he can wake, drawing enemy fire away from him and allowing him a chance of escape.
among the chaos, sabine finds HERA SYNDULLA, and the two work together to escape with chopper and the ghost.
after recovering from the injuries hapes caused her, sabine and ZEB ORRELIOS move to aid lothal in wake of the attack on the planet’s communications systems.
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.
“Bigger picture? What do you mean by that?” They asked, hoping that there was no hint of judgement evident in her voice. Was this about the Jedi, about Ezra? Or Hera and Jacen? In a galaxy that seemed to always require so much sacrifice, some days it took all of her energy just to survive. To see their family again. What could be bigger than that?
“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.
“Yes, I know a little about that. I admit, I’m surprised to see both you and the saber here in this place and time. It’s been a tumultuous few years since I saw it last...Glad to know it rests in the hands of our people still,” they replied, mulling on the mixed feelings welling in her gut.
“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.
“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?”
“Do I look like the kind of man who dies?“ ( from poe )
“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?
“Stand in the ashes of a trillion dead souls and ask the ghosts if honor matters. Their silence is your answer.“
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!
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.
“Jango. Pleasure. Please, I’d love to hear how you came by such a... symbolic weapon of our people.”
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.
“Yeah, me, too.” The tone-shift was heavy and awkward to navigate, something she didn’t really want to adopt right now. With everything that had happened in the last few years, loss was always on the forefront of their mind-- often partnered with guilt. “Still, uh, we’ve always been lucky enough to have each other.” Almost always. “What’s on your mind, Kanan?”
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.
“D’you, er? Have you-- I mean.” A gasp of air between the tears, guilt consuming every fibre in her body. “Have you found anyone else? Tristan, or Father?”
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.
“Tell you what, Bly. I could actually use some help fixing my ship, if you’ve got the time. I can’t offer you much in the way of credits, but I can cover a meal at the local cantina. It’s not the best in the parsec, but it’s hot. Plus, I’d enjoy the company, if you’re up for it.”
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.
“I‘m Sabine. Sabine Wren. And I’d love a good story if you have the time.”
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.”
With a wink, Sabine turned to leave the room, artificial candlelight casting a dim purple reflection in the beskar that was soon to be returned home.