#call-me-spectre-five

[generally-scheming]

@call-me-spectre-five  //  re: Sabine Wren; continued from here

Hux’s shoulders stiffened as this rebel scum had the audacity to touch his collar. The monomolecular dagger up his sleeve would already be at her throat if she had not managed to corner him at a public bistro. Hux hoped their presence would be enough to scare off the former Imperial contact he’d arranged to meet here.   (For business purposes!)   He was weighing the risk of stabbing them anyway when their comment about the holonet reporter put ice in his veins.

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about,” Hux said out loud.   (kriff, kriff, kriff)   (how could she possibly have found out about his arrangement with Kastle?)   (kriff)  

[spectreoflasan]

Zeb pushed their way through the crowd of overdressed and obviously high partygoers. It would be funny -- karabast, it was funny -- but it would be funnier if it weren’t so surreal. He recognized plenty of faces in the crowd, but the last time he saw most of them they were back at Rebel headquarters wearing fatigues and anxious looks. If the war really was over, every one of them deserved a celebration; Zeb was the last person who’d deny them that. But Zeb was still having the damndest time shaking that ‘if.’ It had kept them away from the spiked desserts -- if anyone decided to make trouble for the fledgling New Republic, they’d need their wits about them -- but between Zeb’s general sense of displacement and their unexpectedly complicated conversation with Kallus, they found themself on the way to the bar. Zeb could handle a drink.

As he arrived at the bar, though, he came across someone who clearly could not. Or had chosen not to. Their slurred speech made his ears perk up. Karabast. Zeb intercepted a drink on its way into their hands and threw the bartender a dirty look.

“Right, I’ll say you’ve had enough. I’m cutting you off.”

@call-me-spectre-five​

[generally-scheming]

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.”

@call-me-spectre-five​

[generally-scheming]

call-me-spectre-five // re: Sabine Wren

They raised a brow, feigning the confidence needed of a Rebellion leader. Ears and eyes were on her, always. Time to put on a show.

“Then I guess it’s a good thing we have the wits to outmaneuver whatever you bucketheads throw our way, huh?” Sabine took in a few readings on the console, adjusting the ship’s thrusters for takeoff. “You sure you want to do this, Imp? I don’t want you to start a firefight you can’t finish.”

.

“Buckethead?” Hux turned to the petty officer stationed nearby. “They do know that officers don’t wear...” A pilot glanced back at Hux from under a rounded helmet that flared dramatically at the base. Hux cleared his throat.

“Bold talk, rebel scum. If you’re so confident, why don’t you come a bit closer?” He gazed out from the bridge of the light command cruiser he’d acquired for what was meant to be a stealth patrol. The rebel ship hailing them was just beyond range of their turbolasers.

[mvchinery]

❛ i wish i could explain it better . ❜ - (from paz, to adenn)

she pursed her lips slightly, watching him carefully. “it’s alright. mandalorian history has always been complex. this ... time travel only makes it worse.” she had been in this time for years, & she still found herself occasionally unused to it.

[spectreoflasan]

@call-me-spectre-five said:

❛ my heart breaks when you keep your distance . ❜

"Sabine, I..." Zeb's shoulders slumped. It had been too long. After he found them wasted and despondent at the Iziz fundraiser, Zeb resolved to be there for them more. They hadn't seen each other since. "Look, I-- come on, you know better than that, I've had a lot of missions lately, you know I don't mean... Karabast." He sighed, ears flattened. The thought of her, of Hera, of Kallus... their family... it was all that had gotten them through the gut-wrenching gauntlet of their return to Lasan, the evacuation on Sernpidal, the disaster on Coruscant. She'd been there for him when he'd needed it most, without even knowing it, without even being there. And this was how Zeb returned the favor?

"I'm sorry." He reached a big, tentative paw for Sabine's shoulder and diverted halfway to scratch the back of his neck. "I owe you one. Round of spotchka? Or... hells, I don't know. You name it."

[spectreoflasan]

“Zeb, I don’t want any heroics out of you, all right?”

"Heroics? Nah." Zeb activated his bo-rifle and spun it in one hand, an arc of purple sparks illuminating his grin. "These chumps don't rate that high. I'm thinking more like a warm up."

They gave Sabine a cheeky wink and charged right for a cluster of enemies.