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The sight of the planet ran cold in her blood. For a moment, as the ship dropped from hyperspace, all they could see was Mandalore. The ash, the scars of a scorched planet. Streets overrun with fire, buildings reduced to ash. It was all too familiar. Guilt surged in their blood like it had done then, her breath caught in panic and fear. Without thinking, Sabine clutched onto Zeb, their fur thick underneath her touch. 

“It’s so much worse than I thought.”

If the Mandalorian had held any doubt that Lothal needed their help, it was gone now. There was a half-glance shared, and a moment of understanding passed between the two. There was work to be done, and no time to hesitate.

“Where do we even begin?”

@spectreoflasan​ 

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Flashes of gold glinted through blackened beskar as they approached, and Sabine’s apprehension grew. She was grateful, of course, but they couldn’t help but choke on their anxiety at the presence of one so revered. It was jarring, speaking the name of a legend with such casual nature. Though the initial shock of meeting them had passed, her nerves did not. After all, there weren’t many Mandalorians left, and Sabine had played their part in the genocide well enough. If this Mand’alor knew what they had done... So many nights Sabine had grappled with her worthiness to belong to the people they had helped slaughter, and still she toed that line with every sun’s rise and set. No matter the planet beneath their feet, always was that battle playing itself out in her mind. Carrying this anxiety, she greeted them with the familiar intimacy of clasp on arm, flash of a toothy smile.

“Tarre! It’s nice to see such familiar beskar, and better to see the one who fills it.” Eyelashes flitted even as she tried to hide the apprehension rolling in their stomach. “I appreciate you making the trek all the way out here. This Imperial hut’unn has evaded the New Republic for too long.”