#keep in mind that sabine was the one who attacked shin after shin took the map

[argonapricot]

very funny things to say

[angies-team]

Letters (part 4)

Oh look! There’s a plot!

I ran into you today.

And by ran in, I mean we fought. And by you, I mean it wasn’t you. The Sith I faced looked like you, sounded like you, fought like you. But it wasn’t you.

Of course, I’m still going to try and get you back, but I fear that you are too far gone at this point.

You seemed to believe, somehow, that I died- by your hand. But I wasn’t there, on the mission that killed you on the mission we all thought was your last.

You seemed unable, at first, to recognize me. My hair is black now, the tips dyed a bright aqua. 

I dyed it as soon as I came home today. I took one look in the reflection of a window pane and felt sick. Because you had become something that I didn’t want to remember you as. I saw black, and thought of you, in the dark. I miss the smell of hair dye and spray paint. 

When we first began to fight, you reacted half a second slower than you would when I knew you, and after all these years, you should have been faster, so I knew…you were thinking. At least, I only knew after I’d realised who was under that mask. You knew something about me was familiar, I felt the same. But there was nothing to give me a clue as to who you could be, so how could I have-

Then again. I knew the design of your mask was familiar. I was shocked at the detail, I never imagined that an inquisitor would care much about aesthetics…yet your mask was designed to look like a loth-cat! I knew it!

I’m crying right now; do you realise that? You said The Inquisitor I faced said he killed you, that you were nothing but the shell, the old you was gone. I know, it’s close to the truth, but close doesn’t mean totally gone. Close means there’s still hope. There’s still a chance that you can be saved.

We lost Zeb, two months ago. Do you have any idea how guilty I feel? Because the bomb that killed him was mine? I threw that bomb in there, knowing fully he was still…he promised me that he’d get out safe.

He didn’t.

The last thing you said to me was a promise too. You promised we’d finish that stupid game of Sabacc. I hate that game. But you promised me you’d finish it with me.

I’m holding you to that promise.

Hera doesn’t know about this yet. At this rate…I don’t know how much longer any of us will last. It’s really just me and Hera and Chopper and Kallus. Kallus is depressed, Zeb meant a lot to him you know? Hera’s trying to stay strong, but I can see how much pain she’s in. Even Chopper is moving slower. Ap-5 still functions the same, but there’s a lot less defiance, even he can tell when people are at their limit.

Wedge has been around places. He hangs around a lot with this new Jedi your age. Name’s Luke Skywalker. I’ve heard about his dad, Anakin. He was a well-known Jedi in the clone wars. You’ll never believe who his Padawan was: Ahsoka! That’s crazy! Did you already know that? You probably did. Do.

Rex is still fighting strong. He’s strong. He’s lost so many people...he just keeps fighting. He told Luke some stories about his dad during the clone wars. We were all there though. Anakin seemed like a great guy. Rex sure admired him.

I have to go now, fill everyone in on the details. I still don’t know how to break this to Hera.

The green glow of the blade illuminated her face as she brought it down. He deflected the strike, raising up his saber and pushing back. He hadn’t expected her to be so confident with the blade, she could tell when his eyes widened as she sprung back and spun around, slicing below his shins. He recovered just in time to jump over it, bringing the red blade down on her head. She rolled away, coming up in a low crouch and swinging the saber in an arc so she was in an attack-ready position.

The Grand Inquisitor barely had time to recover from his own attack before she was running towards him again slicing at his vulnerable side. He leapt over it, flipping over and blocking three more strikes of her blade. He narrowed his eyes. Why did her form and style seem so familiar?

Finally, their blades met and he had the time to regroup and study his opponent. She seemed still young, maybe twenty-five at the most. Her hair was black, dyed bright turquoise at the ends, and was pulled back into a tight braid that fell to her lower back. Her eyes were a bright hazel, and a face flashed in his mind. He pushed it away. She’s dead.

And yet, everything about this young woman seemed so familiar. It couldn’t be coincidence.

He pushed his thoughts away as he spotted the saber in her delicate, thin fingers.

It was his.

Definitely not a coincidence.

Anger surged in him. His old master hadn’t destroyed it, after all. He gritted his teeth.

He searched through the force, looking for something, anything. Her presence was strong, powerful, yet she was not force sensitive. At least now he had an advantage. Thrusting a hand forwards, he threw her against the back wall, she sank to the floor, pressing a hand to her temples before getting up again.

The gesture made the Inquisitor freeze. There it was again, that wave of familiarity. He looked within himself, trying to find the connection, but this time something was blocking him. He pressed harder and harder but still he found nothing. Her head snapped up as he roared in frustration, eyes wide.

The Grand Inquisitor snapped his arm towards the woman and she gasped, pulled forwards until he held her by the neck, gripping firmly as she tried to claw at his hand. She could do nothing however. The saber she used- his saber- lay on the ground on the other side of the room, and her blasters were absent- she hadn’t brought them with her.

“Who are you?” He growled loosening his grip only slightly so she could speak. She was silent for a few seconds, before spitting in his face. She had guts, he’d give her that much. Not many would have the strength or the courage to do so while being choked by one of the most powerful Sith in the Galaxy. Stupid Vader. He gets all the recognition. He pulled her towards him. “WHO are you?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Why does it matter to you. You’ll kill me anyways.” She choked out.

The Grand Inquisitor heard a sharp intake of breath, and realized it was his own. Her voice…

“The lightsaber you wield. Has it always belonged to you?” She coughed and he loosened his grip, allowing her to breathe.

“I don’t see why this is so-”

“JUST ANSWER THE QUESTION.” His patience was thinning.

“Alright! Alright.” She gasped for a breath as his hand tightened around her throat, before continuing. “No, it belonged to someone I - to someone I knew a… long time ago.”

There was silence. Her name formed on his lips. The Grand Inquisitor let go of her and stumbled back. She fell to the floor, gasping for air. It was her. You lied to me! He thought, his vision turning red. You were supposed to be dead! I killed you! He ripped of the mask that covered his face, throwing it too the floor.

“No.” He whispered. “NO!” As he advanced on her, she backed up, towards his lightsaber. “Why are you here? To taunt me? What are you, a shapeshifter? Come to haunt me for my mistakes? You cannot be who you say you are. I watched you die! I held you in my arms! WHO ARE YOU?”

“I like to call myself Sabine, sometimes.” Now his saber was in her hand. She lit it, and they were bathed in light again, he lowered his face as she began to study him. “Who are you?” She bit back. He raised his gaze and she gasped.

“I think you know exactly who I am.”