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kazoosandfannypacks · 5 months

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summary: "Though all Mandalorians placed heavy emphasis on the value of their beskar armor, for some it was just armor, a thing only to be taken up in a time of war. Others believed that to remove your helmet or even so much as a glove around another living being was to make yourself an outcast. Most Mandalorians fell somewhere on the spectrum between them, and house Wren and its clan leaned towards the latter, not allowing themselves to remove their helmet. Their custom held one distinct caveat: once a Mandalorian had chosen a partner, a partner for life, their souls bound by a tie no man could sever— then, and only for them, could they remove their helmet, and share their face for the first time with another living soul." or, "the au in which ezra falls for sabine without even seeing her face" word count: 7927 words a/n: I hope you guys are having a great week! the good news is that I'll hopefully be writing more fic over the next couple weeks! the bad news is that that's because I'm on crutches at the moment and avoiding doing fanarts for related reasons… let's just say, I now know firsthand that getting stabbed in the foot REALLY hurts. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this fic, because I had a lot of fun writing it! It's my longest sabezra oneshot, so far, so that's exciting! shoutout to the talented and creative @kanerallels and the lovely and sillygirlcoded @laughingphoenixleader for betaing! taglist: @laughingphoenixleader @accidental-spice @kanerallels @piraterefrigerator @jedi-nurse @dootchster @lucasbridger @redroverrider @light-umbra @commander-tech @jedimandalorian @notanodinarygirl {if you’d like to be added to or removed from my Sabezra taglist, let me know!}

also on ao3!

This is (Kinda) The Way

There were two kinds of people Mandalorians disagreed with— others and themselves. For every disagreement a Mandalorian had with an outsider, they had even more among their own ranks. Customs, traditions, and language were the biggest one, especially when it came to the one thing that united them all— their armor.

Though all Mandalorians placed heavy emphasis on the value of their beskar armor, for some it was just armor, a thing only to be taken up in a time of war. Others believed that to remove your helmet or even so much as a glove around another living being was to make yourself an outcast.

Most Mandalorians fell somewhere on the spectrum between them, and house Wren and its clan leaned towards the latter, not allowing themselves to remove their helmet. Their custom held one distinct caveat: once a Mandalorian had chosen a partner, a partner for life, their souls bound by a tie no man could sever— then, and only for them, could they remove their helmet, and share their face for the first time with another living soul.

🧡•💜•🧡

If this were a normal day, Ezra would be sitting on the familiar outskirts of his home city right now, feasting on whatever he could get his hands on. Instead, he was on a starship in the vacuum of space, with a group of rebels who thought it better to steal for others than for themselves— and somehow, it felt right, not just helping others, but the people he was helping others with.

In the few days he'd been on the Ghost, he'd gotten to know everyone pretty well. Hera was kind and brave, Kanan was cranky but meant well and cared about people almost as much as Hera did, Zeb would flatten him if he got within two feet of himself or his food, and Chopper loved nothing more than making others miserable— overall, it wasn't an awful combination.

The one member of the crew Ezra had a hard time connecting with was Sabine. Maybe it was because of how she'd shrug him off whenever he'd talk to her, or the fact that she didn't eat in the galley with the rest of the Spectres— but more than likely, it was because she was always wearing that helmet, and the armor that (mostly) matched it. He'd never seen her without it, and from what he'd gathered, no one else in the crew had either.

That afternoon, he'd run into her in the galley, as she was grabbing a meal to take back to her room. No one else was around, so he figured now was as good a time as any to risk a social blunder.

"Why do you always wear that armor?" Ezra asked.

Sabine stopped partway through the cup of juice she was pouring herself, just for a moment, then continued.

"I'm a Mandalorian," Sabine said.

"Okay?" Ezra shrugged. Mandalorians had come to Lothal before, and they'd had no problems with taking off their helmets. "I've seen Mandalorians take off their helmets before."

"Well, they must not've been from clan Wren," Sabine said. That was the closest she gave to an explanation before storming off, much faster than normal.

Ezra told himself not to replicate that mistake again.

🧡•💜•🧡

"Can I talk to you?" Ezra asked, taking a seat in the cockpit diagonal from Hera— Sabine's seat, he could tell from the paint job, but she wasn't around anyways at the moment.

"Sure," Hera said.

"I just," Ezra sighed, "I know you're the best person to ask— that is if I don't wanna get laughed at for asking or end up getting my question answered with two more questions I don't know the answer to like Kanan always does."

Hera smiled a little as Ezra said that, which he added to his mental folder of What Exactly Is Going On Between Kanan And Hera, Anyways?

"Why doesn't Sabine take off her helmet?" Ezra asked, "I know lots of Mandalorians who do, well, one or two of them, and I don't really personally know them, but..."

He could tell his question had been a serious one to Hera, because when he asked, she turned away from the ship's controls for the first time since before he came in. Instead, she turned to Ezra, her hands folded in her lap as she leaned toward him.

"Not all Mandalorians are the same," Hera said, "just like not all Twil'eks, humans, or Jedi. Different clans have different customs they adhere to."

Ezra nodded. That kind of made sense.

"What happened to the rest of Sabine's clan?" Ezra asked. It was hard to tell exactly how old she was because of the helmet, but she didn't seem too much older than he was, and he'd never heard mention of her family.

"Mandalorians are a brave people," Hera answered, slowly, "fierce warriors who don't like change in their customs and traditions. Naturally they're not the kind of people the Empire likes having around. I never asked questions when we found Sabine, at least, not after I learned she wouldn't answer them."

Hera shook her head, and Ezra nodded. The Empire had probably done the same thing to Sabine's family that they'd done to his.

"Armor is important to a Mandalorian," Hera said, "handed down from generation to generation. It might be one of the only things she still has."

"I get it," Ezra said, and stood up to leave.

"One more thing," Hera said, and Ezra turned back to her, "she may have a rough exterior, but that doesn't mean she doesn't need a few good friends."

Ezra nodded. If there was anyone who seemed hard to make friends with, it was Sabine— so if there was anyone who needed friends, it must be her.

🧡•💜•🧡

Even in the midst of yet another heated disagreement with Chopper and Zeb, Ezra wasn't gonna abandon Operation Be Sabine's Friend, so when he saw her painting in her room with the door open, he only felt it right to stop and say hi.

"What are you working on?" Ezra asked, leaning his arm against the doorframe.

"A little piece I like to call 'none of your business.'"

"Okay," Ezra shrugged, "well, if you ever get tired of painting 'none of your business' and need inspiration..."

"I'll be sure to look elsewhere," Sabine said, then mumbled something under her breath in some language Ezra didn't understand.

Ezra didn't have time to ask what that meant before Chopper zoomed by, running into Ezra and almost knocking into him, and leaving Ezra to forget about his quest to befriend Sabine.

At least, until that night, when he counted it a victory that Sabine had painted himself and Zeb on the wall of their room, even if it was the most humiliating representation of him he'd ever seen.

🧡•💜•🧡

Ezra knocked on Sabine's door, and was surprised when she actually opened it this time.

"What is it?" Sabine asked, arms crossed.

"She must be in a better mood than normal today," Ezra thought.

"I just," Ezra shrugged, "I know you like doing art and painting and stuff, and you do a really good job at it."

"And?" Sabine asked.

"I," Ezra pulled a stormtrooper helmet out from behind his back, "I wanted to know if you'd paint this for me?"

"Why?"

"I wanted a helmet to wear on missions," Ezra said, "that way no one knows who I am."

"What, using other criminal's names as an alias just isn't cutting it for you?"

"I'm serious," Ezra said.

"Then wouldn't it be better to leave it plain?" Sabine asked, though she took the helmet from him, which was a good sign, and she held it up and surveyed its surfaces.

"Nope," Ezra said, "last time I went in there with a white bucket, Zeb said he couldn't tell the difference between me and the troopers and knocked me out cold. I don't want him to have that excuse anymore."

"I'll see what I can do," Sabine said. She closed the door before Ezra could get another word in, and he didn't see her for the rest of the day.

🧡•💜•🧡

"Look alive, Jedi!"

Ezra looked up just in time to see an unidentified flying object hurtling towards his face, and surprised himself by catching it— this Jedi stuff was really paying off. He looked at the large chunk of plastoid in his hands and quickly recognized it as the helmet he'd given Sabine the previous morning, though now it had a fresh paint job. Ezra didn't know much about art, but he could recognize Sabine's handiwork.

"It's perfect," he said, looking up overtop it to see Sabine, seating herself proudly on the table he was sitting at.

"It's nothing," Sabine said, "the only thing better than painting is defacing Imperial property in the process."

Ezra smiled as he tried the helmet on, suddenly remembering something else he'd taken— or, helped take, anyways— from the Empire.

"This is great," Ezra said, then leaned closer to her, "I just might commission you to work your magic on some other stolen Imperial property, if you're up to it. Something much larger than a helmet."

He could hear the excitement in her voice, despite how hard she tried to hide it.

"What do you have in mind?"

🧡•💜•🧡

"A TIE Fighter?" Sabine asked, standing outside the cave on Lothal not long after, "are you crazy?"

"Come on," Ezra said, wondering if this was a mistake, "you said you wanted to deface government property."

"How did you even get a TIE Fighter here?" Sabine asked.

She walked around the fighter, clearly studying its surfaces as though envisioning what they'd look like when she was done with it.

Ezra smiled. She'd already taken the bait.

"Zeb and I may have 'borrowed' it when we went on a wild meiloorun hunt," he explained.

"Yeah," her helmet peeked out around the wing she was standing behind, "and Kanan and Hera told you to destroy it."

"I know," Ezra fake-sighed, "but our options were blow it up without the best explosives expert on our team— or leave it as a canvas for her next masterpiece. I guess the choice is up to you..."

"Go grab my spraycans."

🧡•💜•🧡

Ezra had never watched Sabine work before, but she'd said he could stay as long as he kept lookout at the mouth of the cave and didn't say anything, and Ezra took that as a step up from the usual.

He bit back his hundreth question in the last few hours, knowing that if he was going to get Sabine mad at him for talking, it would have to be something a lot better than "is orange your favorite color? Mine too."

He held his hand out and sensed as much as he could, every Loth Rat and Loth Cat within a good sized radius of the cave— but not another sentient life for about as far.

The very first orange hues started creeping into the horizon. They'd need to be getting back soon.

He turned back to Sabine, and since he couldn't see her face, he'd learned to read her body language to make up for it, and she seemed to really be enjoying herself and her work.

He'd never seen an artist at work before, and was impressed by how in command of the spraycan she was. Ezra had tried drawing once or twice, and found his Loth Cats looked like angry jogan fruits, and his people looked like a platter of noodles that'd just had a very bad day.

Apparently, reflection on his own inability to draw wasn't the best thing to do on an empty stomach.

But Sabine's art was almost less like a drawing and more like a piece of herself, like maybe if Ezra studied it enough, he'd see all the pieces of her she hid.

And if that was the case, then she must be absolutely beautiful.

"Wow," Ezra whispered, apparently not as quietly as he absentmindedly had thought.

"That doesn't sound like not talking," Sabine was quick to reply.

"Sorry," Ezra shook his head, not even having noticed until now how hard he was staring at her, "I just, how are you so good at that?"

"Practice," Sabine said, "a little hard work and discipline will get you pretty far."

"That's what Kanan's always saying," Ezra rolled his eyes.

"Well maybe you should start listening," Sabine called back, "or, at the very least, stop talking."

"Sorry," Ezra said, then looked back out at the horizon. As much as he enjoyed this secret painting session, he was getting hungry, and knew the rest of the crew would be suspicious if he missed a meal.

"We should get heading back soon," Ezra said, "It's almost dark."

"I'm almost done," Sabine said, adding one last white stripe, "there. Now I'm done."

Ezra got up and walked over to the TIE Fighter, in awe.

"Am I allowed to talk now?" Ezra asked.

"I guess," Sabine said. He could hear the sarcasm in her voice as she packed up her art supplies.

"It's amazing," Ezra said, "way to stick it to the Empire."

"I am pretty good at what I do," Sabine shrugged.

"Oh, more than that," Ezra said, "it's a shame no one else will ever see this."

"It's not about others seeing it," Sabine said, grabbing her case of spraycans, "this one was for me. It's about the process."

Ezra nodded. After seeing how lost in the process Sabine got, he understood why it all meant so much to her.

"Sabine?" he said, as they left the cave.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for sharing it with me."

🧡•💜•🧡

Ezra had always thought Sabine was cool. He met her stealing from the Empire, and she'd jumped off a rooftop onto a moving speederbike— how much cooler could someone get? Combined with the custom armor and quick wit, she was strong contender for coolest person he'd ever met.

And the more he got to know her, the cooler she got. She designed her own armor. She was a weapons expert. She was, apparently, fluent in two different languages, which was probably what made her so quick to come up with insults.

Sabine always knew what to say, good or bad— usually scalding and rude— and Ezra didn't mind hearing it. Somehow she could make an insult feel as special as a compliment. It was almost like the sound of her voice was enough to give him unreasonable joy.

"Ugh," Zeb growled one night as he trudged into their room, "why haven't you gotten rid of that thing Sabine painted on the wall?"

"It's not a thing!" Ezra defended, sitting up on his bunk, "it's art."

"It's a stupid drawing of us from years ago," Zeb said, "and frankly, I'm getting tired of looking at it."

"Yeah," Ezra said, "well, I'm not."

He turned his back to him as he laid back down, but not before noticing a smile on the Lasat's face, and he could hear him chuckle over his shoulder.

"That's what I thought," Zeb said, smugly.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing," Zeb laughed, something surprisingly not unpleasant in his voice.

Ezra recognized that tone. It was the same tone the guys on the base used whenever he'd tell them about the latest mission he'd gone on with Sabine, and it usually carried a "wow, Bridger, when are you gonna just ask the tin can out already?" with it. The other young guys in the rebellion were, well, just that, young guys. They could scarcely go more than five minutes without talking about girls and who was going with who and which girls they would be going with if this war ever gave them a night off, so it was only natural that they'd joke about the possibility that Ezra had a crush on Sabine.

But Zeb? Zeb had never talked with Ezra about girls or feelings or anything like that before, never even hinted at it— until now. Something about a mostly-trusted, somewhat-wise, maybe-in-some-ways-experienced crewmate hinting at it made the possibility of Ezra liking Sabine made it feel all the more real.

"There's no way I have a crush on Sabine," Ezra thought, "I've never even seen her face before. I mean, she is amazing, coolest person I know. And sure, I like spending time with her, and anytime I start talking to her I don't want to stop, but that's normal, right? And sure, my heart skipped a beat that time she grabbed my arm to pull me out of the way of Imperial fire, but what if that's just the adrenaline of the fight, right? Just because I can't stop thinking about her and want to keep hanging out with her for the rest of my life and feel all giggly whenever I think about her doesn't mean I have a crush on her, right?"

He looked over at her handiwork graffitied on his wall and smiled rather stupidly.

"Who am I kidding?" Ezra sighed, "I definitely have a crush on her."

🧡•💜•🧡

It wasn't too long before Ezra had realized that not only did he have feelings for Sabine, those feelings were growing. More and more frequently, he caught himself thinking about her when he was supposed to be doing other things like Jedi meditations and recon missions.

A favored distraction of his male curiosity was Sabine and her constantly shrouded face. He respected her privacy, and never attempted to see her face— besides, maybe the mystery was part of the charm— and often when he'd fall asleep at night, he'd try to imagine what her face looked like. At first, the faces ended up looking similar to other people, girls he'd met on the base, a bounty hunter he'd had a run-in with, or even a merchant girl he'd seen in the village. But every time, she seemed Not Quite Right, and he'd try again. Eventually he started coming up with all kinds of versions of her— one night she'd be a redhead, the next he'd imagine her with green skin, then after that she'd have eyes that were just black blobs— it didn't really matter. He'd only ever see her with her helmet on anyway, so what did it matter?

But even with the helmet, anytime she walked in the room, he could feel his heart race like she was the most beautiful girl alive.

🧡•💜•🧡

"Karabast," Ezra muttered, jumping back a bit by instinct from the blue milk that overflowed from the glass he was pouring it into and spilling all over his hand, and now onto the floor.

"I should know better than to pour myself a drink when Sabine enters the galley," Ezra thought, setting his drink down on the counter behind him as he searched for a cloth to clean it up with, "a Jedi has to stay focused."

"Need a hand?"

He heard Sabine's voice behind him and turned around quickly— too quickly, as his forehead rammed into helmet.

"Ow!" Ezra said, wondering what could possibly make an armor that hard.

"Sorry," Sabine said, and her gloved hand touched the now-sore spot on his forehead, "are you alright?'

"I'm fine," Ezra said, ignoring the pain in his forehead for the moment. He'd dropped the towel, and now he swirled it around the floor with his foot to clean up the spill, knowing that as bad as the injury was, it couldn't be nearly as bad as what would happen if Hera caught sight of the mess he'd made. "My forehead isn't dented, is it?"

"I'm no medic," Sabine said, opening the conservator and scrounging around in it, "but it looks like it'll be the opposite. At least you'll be able to make up one of your elaborate stories about the bump it'll leave."

"Oh yeah," Ezra said, "about how I accidentally went head-to-head with a Mandalorian and ended up almost literally crying over spilled milk."

She laughed a little at his attempted joke, then pulled a frozen bag out of the conservator.

"Put this on it," Sabine handed it to him, "that'll numb the pain and slow the bruising, or something like that."

"Thanks," Ezra said, and as he pressed the bag of frozen rations to his forehead, Sabine bent down and finished taking care of his mess on the floor.

"What happened, anyways?" she asked.

"I guess I got distracted," Ezra said, still distracted by her.

"While pouring a glass of milk?" Sabine asked, looking up at him quizzically before turning back to her work of drying up the floor.

"Yeah," Ezra scratched the back of his neck.

"I've noticed you've seemed a little spacey recently," Sabine said, "almost distant. Something on your mind?"

"More like someone," Ezra said, before he could stop himself, and she looked up again before he had a chance to get that stupid love struck smile off his face.

She stopped what she was doing for half a second, then got up off the floor.

"I gotta go," Sabine said.

"Sabine...."

She tossed the towel onto the counter behind him and turned to leave, but Ezra didn't want to see her go, not now or ever. He searched his words for something to say that would make her stay.

"I don't know how to ask you out!"

Ezra could tell without even needing to see her face that, as unexpected as his words were, Sabine still couldn't've been more surprised to hear him say that than he was. Still, she stopped and turned halfway back to him, so whatever he'd just done, had accidentally worked.

"What?"

"Normally if I wanted to ask a girl out," Ezra said, knowing the oncoming ramble was going to sound desperate— which wasn't entirely inaccurate, "which, technically I never have— at least, not with it actually leading to a date— but if I did, I'd ask them if they wanna go get dinner, which you, specifically, don't really do with people. So then I'd ask about getting ice cream instead, but then: same problem. So then I've been trying to think of different activities you like that we could do together, but all I could think of is fighting the Empire and defacing government property— which we already do together, and could do more of, but those don't really sound like date night activities, unless we were holding hands, but...."

Sabine had walked over to him while he was rambling, and now she stood in front of him, arms crossed.

"Are you asking me on a date, Ezra?" Sabine asked.

"I'm trying to," Ezra said, "is it working?"

"Me?" Sabine asked, "you want to go on a date with me?"

"That's the hope," he shrugged, "if you're up for it."

"Why?" Sabine asked, "is this some cheap attempt to try and get my guard down? It's not some ploy to try to see me without my helmet, right? Because...."

"I know," Ezra said, "you don't take your helmet off. It's a clan thing. I wouldn't ask that of you."

Sabine took a heavy breath. "You'd really go out on a date with me, armor and all, just because you like to spend time with me? No ulterior motives?"

"Absolutely."

"And you're okay with the fact that you'd never see my face?"

"Absolutely," Ezra said.

"How about a holofilm at seven tomorrow night?"

"Eat dinner separately first?" Ezra asked.

"Sounds like a date."

He smiled as Sabine walked away, unsure how he'd managed to do that, but very glad that he had.

🧡•💜•🧡

About halfway through the holofilm, Sabine's hand found its way into Ezra's.

"You're okay with the fact that I'm wearing gloves?" Sabine had whispered.

"Of course," Ezra'd whispered back, his emotions a flutter at the mere fact that she was on a date was him, that her hand was in his at all, even with the layer of leather between them.

Sabine Wren had said yes to a date with him, and now their fingers were interlocked as they watched a holofilm together at the base's rec room. Her helmet, hard and heavy though it was, laid against his shoulder. What more could he possibly ask for?

As they walked back to The Ghost together afterwards, their fingers were still entwined.

Ezra noticed the chill in the air— he'd been planning on it, and had worn a jacket over his nicer shirt tonight, because he knew either he'd be cold, or, better yet, she'd be cold, and he'd have the chance to do what the boyfriends in all the old holos did.

Much to Ezra's delight, Sabine shivered as a gust of wind blew across the base.

"Those old Mandalorian traditions don't say anything against wearing a jacket over your armor, do they?" Ezra asked.

"Well, no," Sabine said, and before she could say anything more, he'd let go of her hand, taken his jacket off, and draped both the jacket and his arm over her shoulder.

"How's that?" Ezra asked.

Sabine huddled a little bit closer to him.

"Perfect," she said.

They walked together in silence for a moment, Ezra knowing full well that if he opened his mouth he'd ruin the moment and blow all chances of a second date.

"Ezra?" Sabine asked, her voice a whisper as they neared the Ghost.

"Yeah?"

She stopped in her tracks, and he did too.

"Do you want to do this again sometime?" Sabine looked at him, her head barely tilted up, a glimmer of a reflection of the stars in her visor.

"If it's all the same with you," Ezra said, his tone still hushed, "I'd like to do this again a lot more times."

"Really?" Sabine asked, "you wouldn't have a problem going steady with someone you've never seen face to face?"

"Of course not," Ezra said, and he turned toward her and took both of her cold gloved hands in his, "I could spend the rest of my life with you and still not have a problem with never seeing your face."

Sabine didn't respond, and Ezra was bad enough at reading expressions, but especially when he couldn't even see the other person's expressions. Maybe that was too soon, too fast. On any other first date, that would've seemed too forward, but when you've been fighting side by side with someone for years, living on the same ship and sharing your struggles, a first date hardly felt like the first one. Still, maybe something as big as "I want to spend the rest of my life with you," was a little too much for a first date doorstop conversation, and he'd probably ruined his chances right there.

He loosened his grip on her hands, but she tightened hers, not letting his hands slip away.

"I don't always have to wear my helmet, Ezra," Sabine said.

"What?" Ezra asked, "I mean, I know you take it off to eat, and probably to sleep too, and maybe when you use the sonic, not that I've thought about that, but you always have to wear it around others, right? That's what Hera said."

"Hera doesn't know everything," Sabine said, "I can take off my helmet, but...."

Her voice trailed off, but he desperately wanted to follow it. He nodded and squeezed her hands a little, silently pleading her to continue.

"Our clans customs don't say we can't ever take off our helmets," Sabine said, "but that the only person who can see us without our helmets is our ruusaar riduur, our life partner. It's a huge commitment, one that some spouses don't even make with each other."

Ezra smiled. "So you're saying I have a chance?"

"I'm saying there's almost no chance," Sabine said, "like I said, it's a commitment, and I don't do so well with committing to anything, and, besides, we'll probably fall apart before we reach that point anyway."

"Not on my watch," Ezra said, not about to let anything happen to push Sabine out of his life, "and thank you for telling me."

"This still doesn't change anything."

"Of course not," Ezra said, "I still love you just the way you are."

He was barely an inch or two taller than her, but that didn't stop him from standing on his tiptoes, leaning towards her, and planting a kiss on top of her helmet.

"Same time next week?" Sabine asked.

"It's a date," Ezra said.

🧡•💜•🧡

Several dates and missions and trials and soft-giggles-while-staring-at-each-other-from-a-distance-es later, Sabine found herself with the choice to go back to help her people. Though Ezra strongly encouraged her to go, it wasn't without tears on both of their parts, and if it wasn't for the whispered, "I'll wait for you"s in their goodbye hug before she left, he would've certainly assumed it was over for them.

But instead he held out hope for them, trusted that the same force that brought them together and connected them across the galaxy would bring them back together, and his waiting paid off not long after, when he found her in his arms again, this time in a hug that meant hello instead of goodbye.

"I've missed you," Ezra whispered, holding her tightly and not willing to let her go, ignoring for the moment that Kanan and her entire clan were watching them.

"Me too," Sabine whispered.

He then let her go, knowing he hadn't made a great impression on her family the first time he met them and wanting to rectify that— especially when they began the mission to save her father. Maybe he kriffed up in his first meeting with her mom and her brother, but he determined that her dad's first impression of him would be a good one.

🧡•💜•🧡

"Are you with my daughter?" Alrich asked, as Ezra jumped in to save him as part of their mission.

"If that's okay with you, sir," Ezra said, then realized the question was about the status of her rescue mission, not the status of her relationship, "I mean, uh, yeah, we're, uh, we're here to rescue you."

Though his answer wasn't more rambly than normal, he felt more like an idiot than normal. Sabine always found his stumbling through his words cute and endearing, but the other Mandalorians didn't appreciate his candid words much, preferring instead to see action. So, Ezra made sure to show plenty of it, fighting alongside them later with such reckless boldness that he took a blaster bolt to the left shoulder and still kept going until the battle was over.

As the medical droid tended to his wound, Sabine sat next to him, holding his right hand lovingly as she sent forth a flurry of angry Mando'an words at him that amounted to a more colorful version of "don't you dare do something that dangerous and stupid again."

"Aww, 'Bine," Ezra smiled under his helmet, (he always wore one of his repurposed helmets on Krownest, to respect her people's traditions,) "I didn't know you cared so much."

"Maybe next time that happens I'll just let you bleed out," Sabine teased.

"You wouldn't dare," Ezra said, "besides, what is it you always say? Something about finding my combat skills and selfless bravery attractive?"

"Bravery?" Sabine asked, "more like borderline stupidity."

"And this one was skillful, brave, and borderline stupid," Ezra said, wishing his helmet didn't hide the playful expression on his face, "admit it, you thought it was hot."

"Maybe a little," Sabine said nudging his uninjured shoulder with hers, "just never do something that ho- stupid again, understand?"

"You and I both know I can't avoid that," Ezra said.

"I know," Sabine faked an overdramatic sigh as she rested her head on his shoulder.

🧡•💜•🧡

Apparently his heroics charmed the rest of the clan as well, especially Alrich. Sabine chose to return with Ezra and Kanan to the Rebellion, and as her family gathered to say their farewells, her father bestowed upon Ezra a special gift.

"We want you to have this," he said, and handed Ezra a shoulder pauldron, one that was inlaid with the Wren family crest.

"Thank you," Ezra said, studying the heavy hunk of metal he'd been gifted, then looking up at Sabine's parents with gratitude, "it's a huge honor."

"You were shot protecting our clan," Ursa said, "and Clan Wren honors that. This shoulder guard will protect your arm while it heals. Not even your lightsaber is strong enough to cut it."

"Is this real beskar?" Ezra asked.

"Of course," Ursa said, "it belonged to Sabine's ancestors. Clan Wren has carried it for generations, and counting."

Ezra didn't exactly have time to unpack all the meaning in that sentence, but he was pretty sure those last few words meant something along the lines of Ezra being on his way to becoming part of their clan now, a high honor.

"Thank you," Ezra said.

"Be good to her," was all Alrich said in reply, and as Sabine's hand slipped into Ezra's, he understood what he meant.

"I will," Ezra nodded, "I don't intend to do anything that stupid."

"He made a promise not to do anything stupid," Sabine said.

"The jury's still out on how long Bridger can keep from doing something stupid," her brother interrupted, "but he's earned my respect."

"I'll take care of her," Ezra said, "and if I don't, well, I have full confidence that she can 'take care' of me, and probably knows at least a dozen ways to hide the body."

"Two dozen," Sabine said, and that's when Ezra knew he'd been on Krownest for too long, because there was something almost romantic in the way she'd just threatened him, and he'd been around Mandalorians long enough that he enjoyed it.

🧡•💜•🧡

As soon as they were back on the ship on the way back to the fleet, Ezra took off his helmet. He didn't like how it limited his visibility, its awkward bulk, how heavy it made his head feel. He then took off his gloves so he could fluff his hair up a little— another thing he couldn't stand about his helmet was how sweaty it made his hair, and somehow at the same time staticky, clinging closely to his head in a way that didn't feel natural.

He heard a sigh behind him and saw Sabine sitting on the bench he stood next to, the chin of her helmet resting on her fists, her arms propped up on her knees, apparently watching him with great interest.

"What?" Ezra asked, smiling as he sat down next to her.

"I've missed your stupid face," Sabine sighed, her gloved hand running along his scars as though she thought she'd never see them again. Though they'd seen each other a lot these past few days, Ezra'd never taken his helmet off unless he was by himself— or with just Kanan, who obviously didn't mind that Ezra didn't follow Mandalorian customs around him, and if he had minded, wouldn't've noticed anyways.

But Sabine hadn't seen Ezra's face since before they first went to Krownest together, months ago, and from the tenderness of her leather touch, he knew it'd been too long for her.

"Well," Ezra said, trying to flirt back and failing to find the words, "I'd missed your stupid, uh, helmet?"

She laughed a little. "It's good to be going home."

Ezra slid his hand under and around hers, and whispered, "you have no idea."

🧡•💜•🧡

Not too long after, Sabine and Ezra sat in the only place they'd ever found they could share a quiet moment together on the Ghost, sitting next to each other on the bottom bunk in Sabine's room.

Well, "sitting next to each other" was an understatement. His arm was wrapped around her, and her hand held his, and her helmet rested on his chest, and they were talking and laughing with each other in a way they were sure no one else in the galaxy had ever experienced or could possibly understand.

"I still don't know how I managed this," Ezra said.

"Managed what?" Sabine asked.

"The coolest, smartest, most beautiful girl in the entire Rebellion is my girlfriend," Ezra shook his head, "not bad for a street rat."

Apparently only one word in that sentence mattered to Sabine.

"Beautiful?" Sabine asked, "Ezra, you've never seen my face."

"I don't have to to know that you're beautiful," Ezra said.

"How do you figure that?"

"Well, I've seen your art," Ezra started, "you're always saying that art is a reflection of the artist, and if that's the case, you must be absolutely gorgeous, because you're the most talented artist I've ever seen."

Sabine nestled closer to him and hid herself even further in his embrace, like she often did when she was embarrassed by how much Ezra was complimenting her. The joke was on her though, because he really enjoyed it when she did that, and it only made him want to shower her with even more praise.

"And I've heard your voice," Ezra said, "and anyone who can make an insult sound as pretty as you can must be very pretty herself. You have a really pretty laugh, too...."

"Okay, I get it," Sabine said, barely stifling a really pretty and slightly flustered giggle.

"I'm not done," Ezra said, "I've also seen how you fight, how graceful and smooth in even the most deadly battles. That's beauty. The pride in each and every one of your explosions that goes as planned, that's beauty. That tone of voice that makes me know your face is shining under that helmet: beauty; the heart you have that can't help but help others, no matter how you try to hide it— it's all so beautiful. You're all so beautiful. Everything about you is beautiful to me."

"But you still haven't seen my face," Sabine said.

"And I've told you a hundred thousand times it doesn't matter," Ezra said, "that I'd spend the rest of my life with you, even if I could never see your face."

"And do you mean that?"

"Every time."

"Not just the 'if you'd never see my face' part," Sabine clarified, "the other part. You said it when we were younger, that you'd spend the rest of your life with me if you could. Do you still mean that as much as you did back then?"

Ezra sat up properly, this conversation seeming to have gotten a bit more serious and wanting to show that he recognized that.

"Sabine, I mean it so much more than I did back then," Ezra said, taking both her hands in his, "every time I say it I mean it a little bit more. I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

"But do you mean that?"

"With all my heart."

Sabine took a deep breath.

"It's not like I'll never take off my helmet," Sabine said, "showing my face would be a sign of commitment. It would show that I'm absolutely sure I want to spend the rest of my life with someone. I'd have to know that I love someone enough, with all my heart and soul, to want to them to be my forever."

"'Ruusaar riduur' is what you called it before," Ezra said.

"Yeah," Sabine said.

She slipped her hands out of his, and before he had the chance to wonder if it was because he'd done something wrong, he realized it must be because he'd done something right. Her hands gripped the sides of her helmet, then pulled it off her head.

Ezra found himself absolutely speechless as he looked the face that he'd loved for years but only met now. He'd pictured her looking hundreds of thousands of ways, but this face, with the big brown eyes, and the shy smile, and the dark hair that didn't even reach her shoulders and somehow looked flawless despite her having worn her helmet for the last few hours, and this face— her face— was the most beautiful face he'd ever seen.

It took him a moment to understand what it all meant. If she'd taken her helmet off, that meant that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him— the most beautiful girl in the world (and now he could with all the more integrity say that about her appearance) wanted to share her beauty with him, and only him, for the rest of her life? He didn't think he was lucky enough for this moment to ever come, but now, here it was, and she was lovely, and he loved her, and he'd never wanted to kiss her more in his life, and she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, and he could spend the rest of all time with her, and now, now he had to find some way to say the words that were swirling around in his mind.

💜•🧡•💜

"You don't have to do this," Sabine thought, as she let go of Ezra's hands, "he likes you, you like him. Why risk vulnerability and commitment?"

But as she looked at Ezra, she found she wanted commitment more than she'd ever imagined. She wanted him to know her face as intimately as she knew his, to see with his own two eyes who she really was, and for herself to look at him without her visor altering her perception.

So, slowly, giving herself enough time to stop herself if she regretted it, she pulled her helmet off her head, for the first time in front of another life form since she'd put it on as a child, what felt like a lifetime ago. It felt vulnerable, and terrifying, but also freeing. She looked up at Ezra and smiled a little, wondering if he loved her face as much as he loved the rest of her— as much as she loved him.

"Maybe this was a mistake," she thought, "maybe I should've just let him keep whatever version of me existed in his mind." She'd seen him flirt with lots of girls, back before they started dating, and none of them ever looked quite like her. What if, even without her armor, she still wasn't enough for him?

But the smile that spread across his face said it all, and if not, enough words tumbled out at a parsec a minute to make up for the verbiage his expression could've lacked.

"Why did you take off your helmet?" Ezra asked, and though anyone else could've left it at that question, the man she loved would never, and he followed it up with seventeen more. "how are you so pretty? I didn't know it was possible for someone to be so beautiful. Does this mean you want to spend forever with me, because I want to spend forever with you too? You're so pretty. I mean, that's not why I want to spend forever with you. I'd spend forever with you if I didn't get to see your face, but I'm so glad I get to see your face. You're literally the most beautiful person I've ever seen in my entire life; I want to kiss you so badly. I mean, not that I'm gonna kiss you, unless you want me to, I just, I've never seen someone so beautiful in my whole entire life. I just, I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting you to be so beautiful, I mean, not that I wasn't expecting you to be so beautiful, but I couldn't've expected you to be so beautiful, but, holy kriff…"

Sabine already had a hard enough time with Ezra complimenting her on things she was often praised for, like her abilities and talents, but now that he was complimenting her on her beauty— she didn't know what beauty was, and how was she supposed to know if she was beautiful? Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, and no one had beheld her before, especially not like this. As it was, she almost wished that she was still wearing her helmet, because she was blushing so hard it was almost embarrassing.

This had to stop. At the rate Ezra was going, he could go on talking like this for another three hours without sign of slowing down.

Though Ezra was the only boy she'd ever dated, she knew boys well enough to know they came with one handy special feature— there was a pretty easy way to shut them up, one she'd secretly been wanting to try since before they left Krownest. Somewhere in his rambled confessions, she'd heard the words, "I want to kiss you," and lucky for him, the feeling was mutual.

Before his lips could get him into any more trouble, she took over for them, grabbing him by the shirt collar and sending his lips crashing into hers. It still took him a couple seconds to grasp what was happening and shut up— that's about when the whispered "holy kriff" at the end came in— but he quickly understood the assignment, and as his lips touched hers, his hand touched her face, something passionate and gentle and unfamiliar and overwhelming. No one had seen her face before, let alone touched it. And now, here was his hand, his fingers twirling on her cheek, his other hand on her neck, with his thumb stroking a soft spot behind her ear.

She pulled away from him, all of it seeming too good to be true. But when she read the love and excitement in his shining blue eyes, she believed it herself.

"I love you," she whispered.

"I love you too," he whispered back.

And now, she was absolutely certain that he meant it.

💜•🧡•💜

A few months later, they were back on Krownest— not for war, or for reunion, but for a wedding.

Sabine had told Ezra that he didn't need to adapt to her customs, that if they forged him his own armor, he'd be making the same commitment to it she had, but he insisted on becoming part of her world. She'd painted his armor herself, colors custom chosen by them both, and repainted her own armor to match it. He'd started wearing the helmet right away, partly because it was better than the repurposed trooper helmet he'd been wearing, and partly because he wanted to get used to the weight of it, and partly because he enjoyed looking like he belonged here.

But except for that and the left shoulder guard that he'd scarcely taken off since he got it, Ezra hadn't worn the rest of his armor until today, when they stood side by side in a private wedding ceremony they held on the Ghost. It was a small gathering, Sabine's family and the Spectres as the only guests in attendance, but the happy couple hardly even noticed them. The ceremony passed quickly, even for a Mandalorian one, which was always quick anyways.

If you'd asked her later, Sabine wouldn't be able to tell you much from that day, except for Ezra, and how she could almost feel the look on his face as he said his vows to her, and how deeply they both meant it when they declared themselves one with each other, and how there'd never been a more precious keldabe kiss (or "bonk of endearment" as Ezra would often call it in his silly little way with words) than the one that followed that ceremony.

And the most perfect moment of her life would come that night, when Ezra held her in his arms without a scrap of beskar coming between them, a pure, intimate, human connection, one that spoke of love, a love of their own, beyond either of their wildest dreams.

💜•🧡•💜

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illuminatedquill · 5 months

Text

Sabine Wren & Ezra Bridger

Family's End - and Beginning (Part One)

Story Summary: What if the events of Ahsoka had happened differently? What if Sabine had made darker choices in her quest to find Ezra? What if the Ezra she found waiting on Peridea was no longer the heroic young Jedi from her youth? The return of Ezra Bridger to the known galaxy should have been a cause for celebration. But, instead, it heralded war . . .

*Art done by my fantastic friend, Scragon!

Seatos - The Fall

The scarlet blade of her adversary whipped in the space where her head had been mere seconds before; Sabine ducked into a low side-ways roll, her combat reflexes serving her well in this life-or-death duel.

She came back to her feet and ignited her lightsaber in a guard stance. The emerald blade sprang into existence with a satisfying snap-hiss.

Shin Hati, the dark-side mercenary, eyed her with grim amusement. The tree her blade had struck, instead of Sabine's head, began to tip over having been cut clean through. The crimson line of cauterized wood hissed and sparked as the top began to slip off the trunk, before falling completely over with a deafening thunk.

The red forest around them rustled and whispered with echoes from the fallen tree - and then fell silent. Sabine felt her skin break out in goosebumps at the eerie silence enveloping them like a funeral shroud.

Shin stared at her malevolently. The young woman's eyes were devoid of humanity; it only reflected the scarlet of her blade.

"You are amusing," Shin said. "So much fun to play with you."

Sabine tightened her grip on the lightsaber hilt. She stepped cautiously to her right, her eyes never leaving the mercenary. Sweat dripped down her brow; her breathing was tight and controlled.

Control your fear, she thought. I need to get through this.

For Ezra.

Her friend's face, as she remembered it, flashed through her mind; a bright, earnest face with piercing blue eyes that looked as though they could pierce through durasteel. She had always found those eyes to be magnetic, almost arresting in their gaze. When she was younger, Sabine quietly admitted to herself - and no one else - that she liked Ezra looking at her.

His face, his smell, his voice, his laugh and the quiet, easy confidence he gained as he grew in his Force powers and Jedi training - all of it surged through her mind like raw voltage, giving her surety and courage.

The fear dissipated like mist in the early morning dawn. Sabine stared at her adversary and said, "I'd appreciate it if we could speed this up. It's getting a little boring for me."

Shin seemed disappointed by that statement. "You're not enjoying this?"

"No, not really. You don't exactly meet my preference of dance partner."

The mercenary cocked her head. "You prefer Bridger?"

"Keep his name out of your mouth," snapped Sabine.

An evil grin slowly spread over Shin's face. "You'll be seeing him soon enough," she whispered.

And then she struck forward with a Force-enhanced dash. Sabine met her scarlet blade with her own emerald one, emitting a battle cry. The two blades erupted into hissing, sparks flying from where the plasma connected.

"I'll be sure to send him to you after I kill you," snarled Shin. "You can be reunited in whatever existence comes after this."

Sabine gritted her teeth, pushing with all her might against Shin's blade. "You talk too much," she replied tersely and forced the mercenary back with a shove.

Shin slid back a few inches only but it gave Sabine an opening. She slashed forward, her lightsaber a green-white blur against Shin's blade.

Shin parried her strikes, eyes narrowing with murderous intent - and then widening in surprise.

Too late, Sabine thought smugly.

Always be aware of your surroundings, Ahsoka had taught her.

The fallen tree trunk that Shin had slashed now lay directly behind her. Sabine pressed her attack -

Shin tripped with a cry over the trunk. She sprawled onto her backside, scrambling to get clear -

Sabine leapt up, the tip of her emerald blade pointed down towards Shin's chest -

Shin raised a hand at the last second.

Sabine froze in mid-air, gripped by an invisible force.

"Damn it!" she yelled. The point of her lightsaber was mere inches away from the mercenary's sternum. It might as well have been a hundred miles away, for all the good it did her.

Panting, hand still raised, Shin acknowledged her. "Not bad, Wren. Almost had me."

Sabine fought with all her strength but she could not escape the Force-grip the mercenary had on her.

Shin sneered at her. "Almost being the operative word there."

With casual contempt, she flung Sabine backwards. Sabine hit a tree, hard; the Mandalorian armor absorbed most of the blow, but it still left her winded when she collapsed onto the leaf-strewn ground below.

Get up. Get up!

Sabine had barely gotten her legs back underneath her when she was lifted yet again in another Force-grip. Shin was walking towards her, malicious glee lighting up her dead eyes.

Sabine waited until the mercenary was within range . . .

Shin stopped a foot away from her. Close enough, Sabine thought.

She twitched her right forearm, pointing it towards Shin - and then squeezed her hand into a fist, activating the flamethrower mechanism within the vambrace.

A gout of bright, orange flame erupted with a howl at Shin. She screamed and dove to the side.

And, more importantly, lost her concentration for the Force-grip.

Sabine was ready; the moment she felt the grip dissolve, she dropped into a low roll and came back to her feet with the lightsaber ready.

Shin, with a snarl, threw off her burning cloak and glared at Sabine.

"So many tricks," she hissed. "But they cannot hide the truth."

Sabine leapt at her, her emerald blade a blur in the furious strikes she aimed at Shin. The mercenary danced around them, parrying it away with a sickening grin, constantly moving.

They fought to a standstill in the middle of a familiar clearing - Shin was maneuvering them somewhere -

No. Maneuvering her.

The mercenary laughed and gave Sabine a vicious Force-shove.

The fallen tree trunk. Shin was using the same tactic on her.

And she had fallen for it. With a scream of rage, Sabine fell over the tree trunk, like Shin had mere minutes ago.

She tried to roll over onto her side, fighting to get the wind back in her -

Shin stood over her, a grim monotone colored ghost against the red backdrop of the forest. With a cackle, her boot came down on Sabine's neck, pinning her to the ground.

Sabine struck out with her lightsaber, hoping it would drive the mercenary off her -

Shin swatted her strike aside with contemptuous ease. Her boot dug deep into Sabine's neck, choking off her air.

The mercenary leaned down, eyes wide with sadistic glee. "You have no power here, Wren. That is the truth your tricks cannot hide."

Weakly, vision fading from the lack of air, Sabine tried to strike at Shin again. This time, the mercenary grabbed her hand.

"This lightsaber belonged to Bridger, didn't it?" asked Shin. "He gave it to you."

Ezra . . .

You know I can always count on you.

She was fading.

F a d i n g . . .

"A Jedi's life is their lightsaber," continued Shin, oblivious to Sabine's pain. "It is a gift, rarely given."

The mercenary glanced down at Sabine and gave her a wicked sneer.

"What a waste. His faith in you was misplaced."

With a grunt, Shin drew on the Force for extra strength and brutally crushed Sabine's hand, her lightsaber still in it.

Sabine screamed as she watched the metallic cylinder warp and dent in her grip - before the emerald blade whimpered out of existence.

Laughing, Shin stepped off Sabine's neck. She watched Sabine's hand fall limp, the crushed lightsaber hilt still sparking feebly in her grip.

"No," whispered Sabine. Ezra's lightsaber. His last gift to her.

You know I can always count on you.

Something dark and poisonous began to bloom inside Sabine's chest.

She heard Shin's lightsaber activate with a sinister snap-hiss.

Sabine didn't care. She just stared at the broken lightsaber in her hand.

You know I can always count on you.

The thing inside her chest began to roar and shake. Beating at the inside of her sternum, howling to be freed.

A scarlet blade appeared over her face. She could feel the heat radiating from Shin's blade.

"Time to die," Shin declared. "I'll send your beloved Bridger to see you soon, I promise."

Ezra.

Something

inside

Sabine

snapped.

There was a howling in her head, as she reached deep within - deeper than she'd ever delved before - reaching inside that dark, swirling abyss she'd kept at bay all these years -

Touching some raw power that had lain dormant. Waiting for her to break through with the strength forged from rage, from despair, from grief -

Sabine touched the Force.

And it leapt to obey her.

She snarled and twisted her other hand in a vicious motion.

Shin's arm snapped with an audible crack in the quiet forest. Screaming, in shock, the mercenary dropped her lightsaber.

Sabine quietly got to her feet and picked it up. She looked at Shin's lightsaber and then back at her own ruined one.

She clipped her own lightsaber back onto her belt and then activated Shin's.

Falling to her knees with the pain, the mercenary stared at Sabine with some new emotion in her eyes.

Is that fear? Sabine thought.

The idea made her feel a little sick - but she also recognized the private thrill of satisfaction underneath it, running like a cool stream of water underneath the heat of battle.

Shin was helpless before her, staring at the scarlet blade in Sabine's hand.

Sabine stepped in front of her. The glow from Shin's blade threw the mercenary's face into sickly light in the dim forest; she shied away from the deadly hum and heat emanating from the lightsaber.

"What are you going to do now?" asked the mercenary. Her voice, thread through with pain, was still surprisingly steady. "Are you going to kill me?"

Sabine considered her words, cocking her head.

Shin smirked. "You can't do it. You don't have the - "

Sabine made a single, swift slash.

Shin's body fell to the ground. Something rolled away from it, softly thumping against the forest ground.

Sabine felt sick inside, staring at the mercenary's headless corpse.

"Like I said before," she said coldly. "You talk too much."

Fear, anger, violence - a warning through the Force.

Sabine mentally shook herself, focusing on the new sensations. Somewhere, up ahead, an intense battle was taking place.

Ahsoka. Baylan Skoll.

Her master needed her. She closed down Shin's lightsaber, grabbed the map, and dashed through the forest, drawing on the Force for extra speed.

And tried not to think about the body she had left behind.

She arrived just in time to see Ahsoka being backed up against a stone pillar by Baylan's brutal attacks.

Heart hammering away inside, Sabine yelled for her master. "Ahsoka!"

Ahsoka spared a glance at her and yelled back, "Sabine! We take him together!"

Sabine didn't need to be told twice; igniting Shin's lightsaber, she leapt into the fray.

Baylan immediately noticed Sabine's new weapon. "No - it can't be. Shin - "

"Won't be joining us," Sabine replied coldly. "She lost her head in the fight."

The distraction worked. Ahsoka slipped out of Baylan's attack and slashed away with her pure-white blade. The former Jedi was put off his guard and forced to give way in order to defend against Ahsoka's attacks.

Sabine waited for a moment when the battle gave her an opportunity -

There. An opening. She dipped her blade low and slashed at Baylan's lower leg; a hole in his defense opened up by Ahsoka's strikes.

The mercenary pivoted with a grunt, parrying away Sabine's blade -

Forcing his flank to be wide open for Ahsoka. She took the opportunity to dash forward and grabbed for Baylan's wrist.

He cried out in frustration as the Jedi Knight twisted it in a classic disarming move. The big man was forced to his knees and dropped his lightsaber.

Sabine scooted forward and kicked it off to the side. Ahsoka, not taking any chances, kept Baylan's arm twisted and locked in position. He couldn't move without causing enormous pain.

"Surrender. You are beaten," she said.

Baylan growled, "Never."

"Suit yourself," Ahsoka replied. Clenching her teeth, she Force-shoved him into the nearest stone pillar, knocking him unconscious.

And the battle was over. Sabine let out a breath she didn't even realize she was holding and deactivated her - no, not hers, Shin's - lightsaber.

"Nice work," she said.

Ahsoka looked at her, frowning. "What happened to your lightsaber?"

Sabine gestured at the broken weapon clipped on her belt. "It broke, unfortunately. Shin's fault."

She looked at her master, a smirk forming on her face. "I paid her back for it, though."

Ahsoka's frown deepened even more. Sabine felt a gradually rising sense of annoyance from her master's disapproval.

"Did you really kill Shin?"

"Yes," snapped Sabine. "She didn't leave me a choice."

With a grimace, Sabine pulled out the map. "It doesn't matter. Look, we have the map. Ahsoka, we can find Ezra now. We can bring him home."

Something beeped on Baylan's arm, drawing their attention away. Ahsoka walked over, examined the source.

"What is it?" asked Sabine.

Ahsoka cursed. "An alarm. We must have tripped it during the battle. They'll be sending reinforcements."

"Well, let's high-tail it out of here, then. They can't do anything without the map, right?"

Ahsoka just looked at here. "And then what, Sabine?"

Sabine blinked at her in confusion. "And then we figure out a way to get to Ezra. What else?"

"They'll never stop chasing after the map, Sabine. Wherever we go, there will be a fight," Ahsoka pointed out. "Innocents might get caught in the cross-fire."

Sabine felt her stomach sinking at what Ahsoka was suggesting.

"You're not serious," she said. "We're not doing this. We have the map, Ahsoka!"

"The enemy will never stop! We discussed this. The map has to be destroyed, we have no more time."

Sabine gritted her teeth. "I'm not leaving Ezra out there to die alone, far away from home! I've come too far to stop now."

She stepped forward, pleading. "Please. Please, let's just re-consider this and think of another way."

Ahsoka's gaze softened into sadness. She shook her head. "I'm truly sorry, Sabine. I know how much Ezra means to you. But we cannot risk the return of Thrawn."

The wind howled through the desolate stone structure. A storm was approaching. The beeping emanating from Baylan's vambrace began to intensify in speed and volume.

Ahsoka held out her hand. "Give me the map, Sabine."

I know I can always count on you.

Gripping the map tightly to her chest, Sabine shook her head and took a step back.

Ahsoka sighed - and then reached out with the Force. The map snapped from Sabine's grasp into Ahsoka's.

No, thought Sabine. It can't end like this.

The howling inside her chest began to grow once more . . .

Ahsoka placed the map onto the stone pedestal.

No.

The Jedi Knight ignited her lightsaber. Raised it up -

I know I can always count on you.

"No!" screamed Sabine. The scarlet blade erupted in her hand and she brought it slashing at Ahsoka's face.

Ahsoka pivoted to block her attack. Eyes wide with shock, she shouted over the buzzing of their locked blades, "What are you doing!"

"I have to save him," said Sabine desperately. "I need to save Ezra!"

"Sabine!" yelled Ahsoka. "The whole galaxy is at stake! Don't let your feelings for Ezra cloud your judgment!"

The whole galaxy.

Numerous, countless, faceless beings. All living peaceful lives; free of war, free of terror, free of the cruelty that was all too common-place under the Empire's reign.

And none of them were Ezra Bridger.

The galaxy had long asked for the unquestionable math from her and others: one life, balanced against trillions more.

But no more.

Sabine decided to choose the one life; the only one that mattered to her now. This time, she would ignore the math and do so gladly.

She reached down into the deep, dark, red burning core that existed at the center of her being - and drew deeply on the Force.

Ahsoka sensed her intent, her face lighting up in shock at her Padawan.

"Sabine," she whispered. "You can use the Force?"

Sabine replied with a scream, full of rage, and Force-shoved her master away.

Ahsoka deftly pivoted to the side, dodging it fully. The Jedi Knight pulled out her second lightsaber, ignited it, her face full of regret - and determination.

"I'm sorry, Sabine," she said. "But this must be done. With or without you."

Sabine narrowed her eyes, raising her lightsaber to a guard stance. But she knew it was no use; despite her having access to the Force now, Ahsoka was years and years ahead of her in experience.

It would be a short fight.

I'm sorry, Ezra, she thought miserably. I tried.

And then Baylan appeared behind Ahsoka.

Sabine cried out a warning, purely on reflex. Ahsoka turned -

It was too late. With a grunt, Baylan seized her by the throat and threw her at a stone pillar. It shook with from the sheer force of Ahsoka hitting it, dust sloshing off in a sudden cloud.

"No!" screamed Sabine. Her anger at Ahsoka had evaporated, turning into terror as Baylan began to press his attack. She ran at him, slashing away with her lightsaber -

Baylan, without looking at her, waved his hand in a dismissive motion. Sabine felt herself forced backwards, stumbling onto the ground in a sprawl.

Fully focused on Ahsoka, he raised his other hand in a tight fist. Ahsoka rose into the air, her hands scrabbling at her throat.

Baylan said regretfully, "Such a pity. I didn't want to kill you, Ahsoka Tano."

His expression hardened. "But I'd like to even the score with your apprentice. So I'm afraid this is farewell."

And with a mighty yell, he sent her flying over the cliff edge.

Sabine could only watch in horror as she saw her master disappear. Somehow, despite her mind frozen in shock, she found herself scrambling to the stone pedestal to grab the map.

Baylan turned around to look at her. Sabine ignited her lightsaber and held it over the map.

He chuckled. "It's too late for that, Sabine Wren."

"Stay away!" she shouted. "I'll destroy it!"

His chuckle turned into a full throated laugh. "No, you won't. You would have done so already, as your former master asked."

He was right. She knew he was right.

She aimed the lightsaber's scarlet blade at Baylan, desperation seeping through her voice. "I'll kill you if you don't stay back!"

He cocked his head at her statement. "Like you killed your master?"

Sabine froze. "No. No, that was you! You threw Ahsoka over the edge."

"But you struck at her. Giving me the opening I needed. Quite the team we make." Baylan took a step closer.

"We are not a team. We will never be a team!"

The mercenary took another step forward. His face was weathered, but not unkind. "Such loyalty you display towards Ezra Bridger. I know how deeply you care for him."

Another step closer . . .

He held out his hand. "You don't have to give me the map, Sabine. Come with me, instead. We can find your friend, Ezra, together."

Ezra.

I know I can always count on you.

Another step closer. He was almost directly in front of her now, mere feet away. "You've already come so far. You've betrayed your master. You've betrayed the principals you once staked your life on."

"What's one more step, Sabine? What is Ezra Bridger's life worth to you?"

A whole galaxy at stake.

He took another step forward. Inches away, his hand was from hers.

She knew, deep down, that she had already made the calculations on that math.

Sabine closed her eyes, took a deep, shuddering breath - and reached out to take Baylan's hand.

When she opened her eyes back up, she saw Baylan smiling.

"Well chosen," he said approvingly.

And then Baylan said something that chilled her to the bone.

"Welcome to your first steps into a wider universe," he said. "My new apprentice."

(To be continued)

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