bly-5052 // Bly
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.”
bly-5052 // Bly
Bly was pretty sure the last time they had seen an actual Mandalorian, it had been one of the trainers that Prime had brought in. And they didn’t exactly have great memories of those days either. But this Mando seemed much younger than those who had trained the Vode would be if any had survived.
They were still wary as they approached though, they knew that many Mandalorians hadn’t approved of the Vode’s existence. But they had promised Prime that they’d give his comm code to any they came across.
Bly just hoped this one wasn’t a shoot first and ask questions later type. “Su cuy'gar.” they said quietly as they stopped next to her.
_
The figure seemed to move with a level of unease despite their obvious military training. Sabine wondered if they were meeting with someone else, someone she was in the trajectory of, but the stranger kept their course towards the Mandalorian. Curiosity alighted; Sabine didn’t know many clones apart from Rex, Gregor, and Wolffe (and the latter two, she hadn’t known for long). What this person wanted, she wasn’t sure, but they returned the Mando’a with a tentative smile.
“Su’cuy. I like the patterns on your armor, burc’ya.”
Politics around the clones’ involvement with Mandalore were...above her pay grade, to say the least. The Clone Wars had ended when they were in their infancy, and the soldiers been phased out of the Empire soon after its formation. Sabine hadn’t grown up knowing them, had little ideas about their claims to the Mando’ade. Still, this person was approaching with amity, so they returned the sentiment.
“Anything I can help you out with?”