Chapter Text
“Ally or prisoner?”
Shin’s head snapped towards the gruff, accented voice coming from the faded purple Lasat. The tension in the air seemed to pop, and all eyes focused on her. It was strange to see a member of that species still alive, Baylan had informed her of the Empire’s genocide on their planet. From behind, Sabine shifted backwards towards her, but it was Ahsoka who answered.
“Friend.”
Hera raised an eyebrow. “How did that come about?”
“Wait,” Before any more could be clarified, the Lasat spoke up again. “I recognize her. She is the one from the holovid, who scrapped the Vesper.” Shin’s gaze sharpened immediately; purples narrowed into a dagger-like stare that could burn holes in durasteel. “She’s the one who attacked Sabine.”
“Alright,” Sabine cut in, stretching her syllables in an attempt to break the tension. “This is Shin Hati,” stepping in between them, and Shin finally dropped her stare, inhaling a breath and turning her focus to her partner. “My Shin Hati, actually, and she is an ally now.”
“There better be a good reason, Sabine.” Bridger spoke up instantly, as if he was waiting for the right time. “It wasn’t that long ago she tried to, ya know, destroy us.”
“Ahsoka are you sure?” Hera interjected, giving the Togruta a puzzled expression with folded arms, and she heard the Jedi sigh in response.
Shin suddenly felt so small as a calamity of talk broke out around her, each member of the group speaking to another, casting small judgmental glances between words. She hadn’t been able to introduce herself yet, hadn’t even been able to say a single word and there they were, with their minds made up. A potent anxiety began to tickle her extremities, and her belly tightened, this was exactly how she pictured this going.
Sabine was jumping from conversation to conversation, defending her. Shin frowned and slowly started to backpedal, feeling a tug of sadness at each of Sabine’s “buts” and “wells” and “you don’t knows” that drifted through the cacophony of voices. It was a valiant effort from her Mandalorian, but still those judgmental gazes kept coming. She didn’t feel comfortable just standing there anymore, she was too exposed and vulnerable, and through gritted teeth, she made up her mind to leave.
Baylan would not have let her be subjected to humiliation like this.
“Enough!” Hera almost shouted, startling her, pausing her retreat. “I’m sure Ahsoka, Sabine and… Shin, here have lots of stories to tell us.” The general turned towards the middle of the group. “We are so happy to have them back in one piece.”
Ahsoka nodded, walking up to flank her companion as she spoke. “Hera told me you were planning a celebratory dinner?” A blonde man who stood near the Lasat nodded. “This is quite the reunion; isn’t it Sabine? We can share everything over a good meal. Let there be no need to overwhelm anyone.” Shin felt Ahsoka’s gaze land on her, and gave a very tiny thank you nod.
Somewhere between Bridger and a droid, Sabine exhaled a pent-up sigh. “That sounds nice.”
“Agreed.” Hera dipped her head. “Let’s help them settle in. Ezra, Zeb?” Bridger stepped forward. “Help Sabine get their ship unloaded.” The Twi’Lek turned once more towards the Jedi Master. “Ahsoka and I have some things to discuss.”
Murmurs of agreement filled the hangar, breaking the tension that hung around the room. Shin shifted uncomfortably, knowing exactly what Ahsoka would be discussing.
Her.
“Ezra, here.” She observed Sabine motioning towards the ship. “We have a lot of stuff to unpack.”
He quickly fell in tow. “Did you bring any of my things back from the pods?”
“Uh, well…” The Lasat let out a grumble of laughter at Sabine’s response, and a wave of happiness radiated from the force. Shin swallowed, a lump swelling in her throat as she watched the interaction. There was nobody there to greet her like that. Nobody to joke with. Nobody to prepare her dinner. Nobody to help her unpack the possessions she didn’t have. The only person who ever gave a damn about her in the galaxy might as well be dead.
Her nostrils flared; and her fist clenched, her blood became a cocktail of sorrow and anger. It was unfair. Watching through jaded eyes, another joke was exchanged, and she was no longer able to keep her emotions in check.
“Thank you.” Shin hissed, and the trio stopped dead in their tracks to look at her. “For being so welcoming.”
Sabine’s mouth parted to speak, and those soft brown eyes flashed with concern, but Shin wanted none of it. Her tattered cloak whipped through the air as she spun around, storming off towards her ship, eyes stinging as tears began to well. She could feel their stares on her back, but it didn’t matter, she needed to go to the one place that was hers.
The ship’s ramp closed with a mechanical groan, effectively closing her off from the outside world. Taking in a shaky breath, Shin collapsed onto the floor, bringing her knees to her chest and let her head fall down. Despite the reprieve of being away from prying eyes, a strange mix of emotions flooded through her.
She was back on her ship, no, Baylan and hers ship, but she was there alone. Not on a solo mission, not borrowing the ship, no. She was there alone, and he wasn’t coming back. Everything that was his and theirs, was by default, now hers.
It felt wrong.
This wasn’t supposed to be hers yet, not until Baylan cut her braid and made her a knight, and the prematurity of her ascension left a hollow ache of mourning in her chest. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to force it out.
Shin was situated against a wall in the exit ramp area of the ship. It was a small room in the rear of the ship, cut off from the rest by a reinforced blast door. Part of her didn’t want to step foot on the ship again, fearing that being in the place she had called home with him for so many years would be worse than avoiding it forever, conjuring up emotions she never wished to feel but knew she had to.
Inhaling deeply, she stood, readied herself, and pressed the button to open the blast doors.
Moments later, reflected in her eyes, was the main hull. Their ship was an Eta-Class shuttle, used by Jedi and high-ranking officials for years during and before The Clone Wars, and was Baylan’s own during his time at the Temple. It of course was heavily modified in the years that followed; a cabin that could once hold ten was reduced to accommodate only two very comfortably, the hyperdrive was exceedingly overhauled, and the ship’s stealth capabilities were increased tenfold. Essentially their ship was a floating home, a ghost, that could be anywhere it needed to be without a trace.
Sighing, Shin walked through the hull, a gloved hand tracing the cold gray durasteel walls. She had lived here, grown up here, and yet it felt hollow and unfamiliar. Closing her eyes, she reached through the force, feeling echoes of the past reverberate around her, hoping to feel any traces of her Master.
There.
His force signature still hung around the ship, like a lost spirit drifting around its tomb.
His presence began to grow stronger, each step bringing her closer to him. She had reached the main table now, and her lower lip began to quiver as a memory began to whisper to her through the force.
Our target is not to be taken lightly, is that clear apprentice?
Yes.
Good. You have shown me much maturation over the course of this contract. I am proud of you Shin. I promise you will see to their elimination yourself?
Of course. Thank you, Master.
Ripping her hand away from the chair, Shin’s eyes shot open and a wave of sadness crashed over top of her. It wasn’t right. He was the only one to trust her, really trust her, and he had left. They came here for power, to fix things, and instead it led to that monstrosity in a cave.
A tiny anger from deep within her slowly began to grow, building in her chest until a small whisper turned into a howl. How dare he just leave? Enraged, Shin grabbed her saber. She was going to destroy this ship, turn it into a smoldering pile of nothing. At least that way, it could no longer remind her of what she lost.
A deep orange blade ignited with a familiar hiss, casting the dark hull in its shade as she stormed towards his quarters. She’d start there, after all, he didn’t need it anymore.
The moment she stepped foot into his room, she raised her saber, ready to expel all the emotions he had left her with, but through blurry eyes a shiny glint reflecting the orange of her saber caught her attention, stopping her mid swing.
Sitting at the end of his bed was a small metallic TaunTaun statue, one Shin had gifted him many years ago. All the anger, emotion, and rage that had been building up inside her for the past rotations since her abandonment vacated her body like a ship jumping into hyperspace, leaving her limbs heavy and wearied.
And she was left standing, transported back to a time when she was just a young girl who wanted to give her Master a present.
Tears never used to be an acquaintance, but now they seemed to have married her eyes, and once again they returned. Uneasy steps followed as she stumbled back towards the main hall, exiting the room that was suffocating with his presence.
The space around her seemed to close in with every shallow breath, and entering the main hull did not provide any relief. Her saber retracted into its hilt as she took staggered steps that led her to her quarters, its door opening with an all too familiar hiss.
Everything was exactly how she had left it.
There was her bed, her workbench, the spare armor she didn’t have time to put away, her on suite refresher. It was spartan as can be. The varying shades of dark grey durasteel walls greeted her retina with a familiar coolness, reminding her of a time before all of this, and Shin was suddenly all too aware of how exhausted she was.
It took two sturdy strides to reach her bed, and when she did, promptly collapsed onto it. Sheets scented of light floral surrounded her, a clean comforting smell that was always around her room. It was there on the restless nights aboard this ship, it was there for the tired mornings Master greeted her with caf, and now it was here when she was alone. Squeezing her eyes shut, Shin tried to forcefully push out all the memories that came flooding back, but it didn’t work, and she cried.
The tower made of glass she had been sitting upon all those days on Peridea that had sustained her semblance of peace shattered, and she cried. She cried like she never had before, the tears burning hot coating her cheeks, all while she fumbled for a pillow to bury her face into.
She cried for her Master, who was all but gone. consumed by a power he thought could fix the galaxy, a possessed shell, gone forever. There would be no more caf in the morning, no more training, and no closure.
She cried for her teachings, the ones she disobeyed, the ones long since forgotten. Abandoned on Peridea, just as she was, left in a Noti pod as if they were nothing.
She cried for herself; the images of her own lifeless body haunting her every time she closed her eyes, the fear in Sabine’s eyes when she let her hand go, the pain she felt for a death she relived, for the sacrifice that meant nothing, for the deal imposed upon her by false gods. Somewhere between tears and evocative memories Shin’s body gave into the exhaustion, and a mind so desperately needing of sleep succumbed to repose.
Unaware of how much time had passed, Shin slowly pulled herself out of sleep. Though her mind was heavy with fog, the weariness that had been petrifying her limbs was no longer present, and after a few splashes of cold water her face, she felt anew.
It was quite shocking how much of a difference a little bit of sleep could make, and made her wonder just how badly she needed it. Letting out those intolerable feelings also might have helped, even if most of them still clung to the back of her mind like common burdock, always there to remind her that not everything was alright.
That meant, much to her own displeasure, dealing with the very real repercussions of her Master’s demise. He was gone, after all, and never coming back.
They had a contingency plan for such an event.
While Shin had access to their main joint account where most of their credits were funneled, she had no control over it. Master had planned to give her full control once she had reached Knighthood, but should anything untimely happen, there was a special locked compartment near the ship’s hyperdrive that contained all the necessary codes, keys, and maps to gain full control of their riches. It could only be opened through the force, and only Shin knew where it was.
She had her own Corellian based account, which held her private funds, and should anything happen to her, Master would have taken over that as well. Climbing down the ladder and into the ship’s guts felt like a fever dream for Shin. Baylan had always been realistic with his apprentice, but never did she think she’d ever see the day those plans would matter.
Sure enough, to the left above the core compressors control panel, was an oddly shaded patch of durasteel and when she reached out through the force, she felt a lock. With a few twitches of her fingers a dial behind the wall began to spin, the off-colored square hissed open, revealing a safe and its contents.
Solemn hands lethargically perused a stack of metal steles laced with inscriptions. Master had ensured that everything was safely spread out across multiple different sectors and banks, all under different pseudonyms. Data caches were scattered seemingly at random throughout the galaxy, which contained documentation of their travels and the winnings from their success.
Heaving a sigh, Shin delicately placed each stele back as if to be careful not to disturbed a phantom or deity if one was handled too harshly, and in a way, she was. A ghost had placed them there, the ghost of her Master.
Exiting the ship’s engine room, Shin made her way back to the main hull and promptly took a seat at the center table, allowing her head to fall into her hands. Sleep might have temporarily dampened things, but everything was all coming back. The dull ache of loss was creeping back into her bones, and more terrifying than any pain for Shin, was how it hurt less.
Was she really so quickly moving on?
“Hello, Sabine.” Shin called, her voice raspy and dry. “How did you get in here?”
“You left the ship unlocked,” Shin slumped back, too lazy to fully turn around and greet her partner. “And how did you know I was coming?”
“Your presence was practically screaming the moment you stepped foot in the hangar.”
“Fair enough.” Sabine’s footsteps drew closer, and the annoyingly pretty Mandalorian wrapped her arms around her shoulders. “I was looking for you.”
“I’ve just been here.” Shin muttered, closing her eyes as Sabine placed a kiss on her head.
There was a brief moment of silence and bristle of agitation through the force before Sabine pulled away. “We were starting to worry.”
“Yeah, the others were so worried.” Shin snorted, sarcasm dripping from each word and Sabine frowned in response, walking over to take a seat next to her.
“They’re… stubborn, but I’d say it went better than expected.” A fading frown gave way to curious eyes that were darting across Shin, who lazily turned her head to make eye contact. “Hera asked about you, after her talk with Ahsoka. I think she’s curious; that’s a good sign.” Sabine gently laid a hand over Shin’s, intertwining their fingers.
“My droid is gone.” Shin flinched at the contact of their hands, and quickly pulled hers way.
Sabine’s frown returned, deeper this time. “You have a droid?” Her tone was dry, the cheerfulness had vanished.
“Yes.” A twinge of guilt marred her response. She didn’t want to make Sabine unhappy; she just couldn’t handle touch right now. “We had an RA-7 Protocol Droid, he was never programmed to leave the ship, and now he is gone.”
“I didn’t see a droid last time I was onboard.”
“Last time, you were a prisoner.” Shin rolled her eyes, scoffing.
“Fair point.” Sabine tapped the table with her fingernails, painted a fresh purple. “It probably had something to do with New Republic procedure, I’ll ask about.”
“Thank you,” She dipped her head in thanks, the edge of lip turning down. “I would really appreciate having him back.”
“Oh?” Sabine raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t peg you the type to grow fond of droids.”
“I’m not.” Shin snapped. “He was only kept onboard the ship to help with mundane tasks Master Skoll and I had no time for,” her voice entered a decrescendo as memories of her Master came flooding back. “I just want him around.”
“Alright.” Sabine shrugged, leaning back in her seat. “I’ll ask Hera if she knows anything, or you can ask her yourself at dinner.”
“Dinner.” Shin picked her head up, shifting to turn her body to full face Sabine, a twinge of insecurity bubbling under her skin. “I didn’t think they’d want me there.”
“They might not, but I do.” Sabine’s bit her lower lip, a playful smirk forming on those unfortunately kissable lips. “Now come on, I’ve been looking for you for about an hour and you really don’t want to be late to this.”
“Are you sure, Sabine?”
There is a brief pause, and Sabine tapped the table with her knuckles before rising to her feet.
“Hera said she’d like your company, and Ahsoka maybe told me you had to come.” Shin tracked her as she moved around her. “Besides, it’ll be nice. Everyone is in a good mood, except Zeb, but he never is. Oh,” Sabine flashed an endearing grin, squashing any doubt Shin still might refuse. “And the food will be better than some stale-old rations. It’ll be a treat.”
“Alright. I’ll go.” Shin heaved a sigh that exuded annoyance despite the exciting prospect of real food. “But you have to sit next to me.”
“Of course, Hati.” As Shin stood to follow her out, a warm sense of calm flooded over her. She was aware that normall y people this close shouldn’t call each other by their formal names, but something about the way her last name rolled off Sabine’s tongue was absolutely divine.
Something was different about The Eye’s halls as the two walked toward their destination, apart from the obvious lack of restraints around Sabine’s hand. It wasn’t the constant need to push her along every five steps, either. Or the sway in her hips, with each step signaling a revitalized swagger that Shin had yet seen in her. No, it was something different entirely.
There was a strange peace in the force. It was around every corner, hanging in the air like an invisible fog that coated her skin in happiness. It was entirely distinct from the stifling heavy darkness present on her previous journey aboard the hyperspace ring.
And despite her affinity for all things dark, Shin preferred this feeling considerably more.
“Which door was it again?” Sabine was standing between two identical bronze doors parallel to each other. “I could’ve sworn it was the right one”
“On your left. It’s labeled.” Shin’s chuckle was a bit dry, nodding to a small sign in the archway. “The other is storage.”
“Oh, right.” Sabine pulled out a small metal card, swiping it over the scanner. “Storage for what exactly?”
“Food and a variety of auxiliary needs.”
With a hiss, the doors parted to reveal the same mess hall Shin had many meals during her first trip on board, but this time it was not crowded with foul-looking mercenaries. Instead, it bustled with all sorts of New Republic personnel, and in the middle sat a large table where Sabine’s piecemeal rebels were gathering. Sabine practically sprinted there, Shin had to speed up in order to stay close.
“Look, she made it.” Bridger announced once the pair were in view, that smile almost immediately fading once he noticed Shin. “And she brought her friend.”
“Yeah.” Sabine replied, hastily taking a seat across the table from her old friend. “Are we late?”
“When aren’t you late?” The Lasat from earlier chimed in from his position next to Ezra, inciting a hearty laugh from the Jedi. “If it’s the food you're after,” he added. “You’re actually right on time for once.”
Shin awkwardly approached the table, and Ahsoka silently scooted over, allowing space to squeeze in between her and Sabine. Relieved, Shin accepted. Finding a small comfort pressed between two people she was familiar with.
As their conversation continued without her, Shin took a moment to observe her surroundings. They were seated on an elongated bench, Imperial Standard for a mess hall, unchanged from last time. Zeb, Ezra, Hera and the blonde man she didn’t know were sitting across from Sabine, Ahsoka and her. The mess hall around them was also busy, and that she didn’t like. Large groups of people in a confined space always made her anxious.
There were too many people to keep an eye on, making it hard to distinguish threats.
A protocol droid interrupted her thoughts by placing a plate and cup in front of her, and the conversation drifted back into her ears.
“That reminds me, Hera, how did you guys manage to find this ship anyways?” Sabine spoke up, expression curious as she leaned over the table. “I thought for sure we’d be lost out here forever.”
“Why don’t you ask Ezra,” the Twi’lek’s gaze rested on him, her eyes gleaming with parental pride. “It's because of him we were able to.”
“Oh?” Sabine inquired, raising an eyebrow as the attention of the room shifted towards the now-shaven Jedi.
“There was a lot of time to think on Thrawn’s ship after I repurposed a trooper’s armor.” He began, pausing to take a sip from his cup. “Apparently, they just like any random stormtrooper walk without—”.
Zeb interrupted by elbowing him in the chest “Get on with it.”
“Right, uh, ahem.” Ezra coughed. “Somehow on the way back home I had enough time to remember how to manufacture two impromptu tracking devices, courtesy of some lessons I got a long time ago from a certain Mandalorian.” His eyes glinted mischievously at Sabine, who returned his smile.
Shin’s eyes narrowed.
“Long story short, I managed to plant one on the Eye and another onto Thrawn’s ship before borrowing a TIE and bailing.” Shin watched as Sabine nodded her approval, raising a glass at the achievement, and she balled the end of her tunic in her fists. It was an aggravatingly smart move by Bridger.
“Unfortunately,” Hera spoke up, droid movement behind her catching Shin’s eye. “We lost contact with the tracker on Thrawn’s Destroyer after a few rotations, thankfully, we were able to recover The Eye.”
“You won’t believe where we found it.” Zeb chimed in, leaning back as one of those droids from behind Hera moved to place a serving of food onto his plate.
“Abandoned in the Dathomirian sector of the outer rim, near Chirgay.” Ezra concluded with a nod, to which Hera reaffirmed with a tilt of her glass. “No Morgan and no crew.”
“No need to worry about Morgan’s whereabouts.” Shin was sure Ahsoka was attempting to cover a coy smirk when she spoke. “That has been taken care of.” The blonde man looked up from his plate freshly replete with food.
“For good?”
“To a permanent end.”
It was Zeb who laughed first, as the conversation began to wind down, and an odd wave of relief washed over Shin. Ahsoka hadn’t made her aware of Morgan’s demise, and the revelation came as a shock—a welcome one, though—since the strange Nightsister woman never sat well with her.
Small chatter broke out amongst everyone by the time the protocol droids made their way to Shin, who dropped a main portion and two sides onto her plate. Picking up a utensil, Shin curiously poked at what was served. It appeared to be a steak of some kind, judging the recognizable char marks and tough fleshly texture as she prodded it.
Yuck.
Through a frown, she began to study the sides. They looked edible, a mixture of cooked vegetables and some type of paste, most likely from a potato.
At least there is something.
“These aren’t your typical rations.” Ahsoka spoke, her eyes staring lovingly down at the meal presented before her. If it wasn’t for the Togurta’s carnivorous biology, she’d be deeply confused how anyone could enjoy the taste of meat. “Were you planning this?”
Hera nodded through a sip, humming a yes. “Zeb is the one to thank.”
“I figured when we found you, we’d need a proper meal to celebrate.” The group around the Lasat murmured their support. “After all, when was the last time we had the chance to be together like this?”
An influx of remorse made its presence known, as feelings and memories that weren’t hers perturbed her senses. The group even fell hush, until Hera scoffed a laugh.
“I think the last time I saw you two in the same room together for more than a brief moment,” she nodded in their direction. “Was after Zeb and I had to basically drag Sabine out of that bar and we all had to vouch for…” Hera didn’t finish her sentence, choosing to clear her throat instead.
Another influx bristled through the force, this time, shame.
Shame coming from beside her. Sabine’s head was dipped slightly, and Shin watched puzzled as she awkwardly cut her streak. “Yeah, that was a while ago.” The Mandalorian muttered.
Shin caught her gaze, raising a curious eyebrow as if to ask huh? But Sabine waved her off. “Another time.” She whispered, ever so faintly so only Shin could hear.
Before silence could follow, Ahsoka spoke up. “We are all very glad to have everyone together again,” Raising her cup, she eyed the table. “To our friends, new and old, and the ones who couldn’t be here, and to getting home.”
“Aye.” Zeb concurred, raising his cup in toast. The rest of the group murmured their agreement, and everyone raised their glass to toast, everyone except Shin. Sounds of clinking cups were soon replaced by knives against plates, and forks against teeth as the group dug into the considerably above average meal compared to standard rations.
Shin was always uncomfortable around strangers, and that’s before she could ponder the influence they held, and their importance to Sabine, only adding to her stress. This was not a new occurrence, she had realized. Even when she was on mission with Baylan she felt awkward and exposed when she was tasked to handle the business aspects of her career. Master had noted it was her stare that caused contention with their employers, but she knew no other way to look.
Bridger was annoying. His chirpy comments and clumsy swagger was infuriating to witness and it was almost disbelieving to Shin that the man across the table was considered a Jedi. Baylan would never allow him to act as he did, for he seemingly lacked any sort of the high discipline required to master Jedi teachings. Given the length of their journey home, Shin knew there would be a chance to spar with him, and she couldn’t help but feel giddy at the chance to assert her superiority over the bokken wannabe.
Even the way he chewed irritated her.
The Lasat, or Zeb, was not much better. His tone, face and everything else might be more agreeable than Bridger, but something about his gaze was not welcoming. She could sense his closeness with Sabine, and the low registered anger that radiated off him each time she lifted a finger.
Hera seemed more akin to Ahsoka than she was expecting for such an established general, and that came as a relief to Shin. Master Tano had, after all, been the one who allowed her into the Noti camp in the first place. Yet there was something more familial about how she would talk about Sabine, and Shin knew despite never being in this position before that it would lead to one very tense revelation about what exactly Sabine and her did on Peridea. Hopefully, she would take it well.
Shin bit away into some of the mixed vegetables, very clearly avoiding the cursed hunk of meat sitting on the corner of her plate. It was disappointing not being able to fully enjoy a proper meal, but despite her displeasure, she felt it was inappropriate and disrespectful to voice her feelings. She was, beyond everything, their guest when she should be their prisoner. There was no need to cause a commotion over simple preference.
Conversations began to amalgamate around her as she scantily ate away her food. Despite hunger aching away in her belly, she could never bring herself to touch the steak. Sabine next to her shifted in the midst of carrying on a conversation with Zeb.
“Once we got the ship’s vital functions up and running,” Sabine picked up her tray, and shoveled her uneaten vegetables onto Shin’s plate discreetly. “Everything was almost normal.”
Flattered, Shin felt a pang of sadness at the food Sabine had shifted to her plate. She didn’t need it; she was fine with the smaller portion, but Sabine wouldn’t let her go hungry. Not wishing to draw attention, she lightly brushed her hand against Sabine’s arm in a silent thank you, feeling overwhelmed by the varying emotions running through her at the display of affection.
“So, Sabine.” Zeb asked between bites. “Does she speak?” Shin’s attention snapped towards him, her initial reaction swaying between anger and embarrassment.
“I do.” She responded, far too bitter for her own good.
“Finally.” The Lasat snorted, scraping his knife over his fork. “Was beginning to think this one here was mute.” He eyed her up. “You look a lot different in person than on security footage.”
Shin, no stranger to intimidation, stared blankly at him, continuing to eat her sides calmly.
“How did you manage to get on Fulcrum's good side anyways, Shu- Shal-Sher- what’s your name?” Zeb pressed, filling her silence with questions. The group around turned their attention towards her, with Sabine the only one looking down at her food.
“Shin Hati, and you should confer with her if it is answers you are looking for,” Her tone was terse, mild in timbre, but not lacking any bite. “Tano should remember her motives.”
“I’m asking you.” He replied, voice hardening and gaze narrowing, and tension once again made its presence known in the force.
“There were complications with my Master.” Shin stiffened, matching his stare with her own icy look. She did not want to reveal any more compromising details about the state she was in when she went crawling to the feet of her enemy for shelter, they didn’t need to know that yet, but as the Lasat opened his mouth to reply, it was Bridger’s voice who responded.
“Were the complications failing to kill Sabine and I?”
Shin snapped her attention to him, menacing unblinking eyes burning holes through his chest, and anger threatened to boil over inside her. Tentatively she moved a hand under the table, reaching through the force to probe his defenses. They were solid, not impregnable. Bridger was lucky Sabine cared for her, or else he’d be choking on those words.
Oh, how good it would be to no longer hear his voice.
“Unequivocally no.” Internally sighing, she took the highroad, giving a blasé response. “Those orders did not come from my Master.”
“Orders, huh.” It was Zeb’s turn to jump back in, the two men trading probing questions. “Because that gives you an excuse.” Shin’s bouncing leg was indicative of her growing discomfort.
“Guys, listen, I don’t think now is the time.” Sabine said as gently laid a hand on Shin’s from under the table, but her neutral attempts to shift the conversation fell on deaf ears.
“If they didn’t come from your Master, that means they came from Thrawn.” Ezra chimed in; his chin tilted up with a smugness Shin wished nothing more than to wipe away. “Do you serve him too?”
“We were under contract, yes, but we serve only ourselves.” Shin withdrew her hand from under Sabine’s, indignation rising in her throat. “I suggest you refrain from baseless accusations”
“Really?” Ezra almost laughed. “Was it not you ordering a squadron of stormtroopers to, what was it again? Oh yeah, destroy us.” His last words seemingly echoed around the mess hall.
“I was only doing what I was told.” Shin replied softly, her voice low, quiet and deadly, like a drifting breeze over snow.
“Zeb?” The blonde man who remained most silently throughout the entire endeavor finally spoke up, and all eyes shifted to him. “Being stranded on a foreign planet with scarce resources can drive enemies together, even to the point they have a shift in their rationale. Wouldn’t you agree?” He concluded his question with a small smirk, and a nod towards Shin.
She liked him.
Another silence followed, but the tension in the force seemed to dissipate, as each member slowly returned to their food. Whatever the blonde man had said silenced them, and Shin felt a twinge of gratitude, she’d have to learn his name eventually.
“Hera.” Sabine cleared her throat, moments after biting off a piece of steak. “How long until we are home again?”