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Sabine hadn’t intended to get lost on this maze of a ship, but troops had started shooting, forcing Ahsoka to separate from her on their hunt for Ezra. They had been led here, but the two of them quickly realized it was a floating death trap. At times, Sabine allowed herself to forget just how deeply intertwined the hunt for Ezra was with their hunt for Thrawn. Allowed herself to forget they weren’t the only ones looking.
She thinks she’s found a moment of solace, the hallways quiet. Somewhere else in the ship, alarms are blaring and blaster shots ring, muffled and distant. The alarms here are quiet, but lights still flash intermittently in dark hallways. The lights are out and with the windows only revealing the vast darkness of space, the only glow comes from the red of the alarms.
Something tugs at the back of Sabine’s mind, persistent, a warning. Her hand goes not to her blaster, but to the lightsaber on her hip, not quite drawing the weapon. The hairs on the nape of her neck stand on edge, anticipating leeching at her every nerve.
A noise alerts her. Down the dark hallway, between the flashes of alarms, a red-orange lightsaber blade casts a glare down the pitch blackness.
“Great, you again,” Sabine grits out, pulling her own lightsaber as the woman begins to advance on her.
Shin Hati’s boots are heavy against the hard tile, thunk after thunk of warning. Shin Hati is death; inevitable, tantalizing. Sabine sees flashes of white-blonde hair casted in orange, highlighting the harsh lines of Shin’s jaw as she brings her lightsaber up. Sabine meets hers before she can strike, the blades clashing with a thrashing hum. Every time she sees Shin, she is reminded of what it felt like to have that blade pierced clean through her, the scar on her torso aches at the thought.
“Me again,” she huffs in that stark tone, voice echoing within the confines of Sabine’s mind. Sabine shivers as she pushes up against her saber, causing Shin to bring her arm back, to take a step. She’s always on the defensive when it comes to Shin and it’s getting annoying.
Sabine strikes, aiming for a slash against the chest that Shin blocks with her saber. Both hands are on her hilt, exerting enough force to send Sabine flying back on her reproach. The wind brushes through Shin’s hair and cloak as Sabine finds her footing, feet planted in a squat with one leg back, a hand coming down to catch herself. Not long ago, Shin would have been able to knock her off her feet entirely, but Sabine is catching onto her tricks.
She tilts her head, a teasing smile pulling at the corner of her lips. “That’s cheating.”
“Not if you learned how to use it, too,” Shin retorts, bringing her lightsaber down to Sabine. She uses her spare hand to block it, back arched above the tile, not dissimilar to their positioning from the first fight. Every muscle in Sabine’s body aches at the position as Shin’s face gets closer and closer to hers, the cross of their lightsabers coming closer to singing the hairs off of Sabine’s face. Her eyes can’t help it—they dart down to the beads of sweat running down Shin’s neck, the veins pulsing, tense beneath the flesh.
Sabine loses focus and nearly loses an eye if not for letting herself drop to the ground and roll out of the way. Shin’s lightsaber hits the spot Sabine had just been in as she catches herself, pushing into a standing position before Shin can process where she went. She goes for another strike, this one high, coming for Shin’s shoulder as the woman approaches her. It seems Shin lost focus too as her lightsaber hits armor, but does minimal damage before Shin is pushing it off with her own. Even so, damage is damage and Sabine’s ego just grew a bit.
“Got you,” Sabine teases, bringing her lightsaber back up only to be met with Shin’s once more.
They go back and forth for a while until Shin brings her lightsaber up, finding a sensitive spot beneath Sabine’s beskar, cutting a line in the fabric, the material singing as Sabine’s arm begins to slowly ooze blood. Shin cocks her head. “Got you back.”
It’s a game, Sabine knows that much. Every duel they have is a playfight, teasing remarks thrown back and forth with no real vitriol. Sabine has often found herself wondering why she’s so drawn to Shin, why she hasn’t allowed herself to go for a killing blow every time they fight. One of them should have ended this ages ago yet here they are over and over again. Every time Sabine finds herself in an altercation, somewhere in the back of her mind, she hopes Shin will appear and today had been no different. Something is amiss, something is wrong with her, deep in her subconscious. She craves the sweat and steel and blood she shares with Shin.
Sabine loses focus again, she blinks and she’s up against the wall, Shin’s forearm is across her neck—choking her the old-fashioned way, it seems she took the cheating comment seriously. The point of her lightsaber is up between them, aiming straight for Sabine’s chest and yet she hasn’t impaled her and ended this once and for all the way she so clearly should.
“You are distracted, give me a real fight,” Shin seethes. This close, her eyes are wide, lined with dark charcoal that makes them stand out even more than they already do. The wispy hairs around her bangs are stuck to her forehead with sweat and there’s a small cut on her cheek, one Sabine hadn’t even noticed she made.
“Aw, you want my full attention?” Sabine can’t help it, even though she knows she’s lost this fight as she always does when it comes to Shin. Never has Sabine experienced something like this—the pressure of a rival, hunting her down, sniffing down a trail of blood like a wolf, hungry, ready to feed. “Why don’t you just do it? I’m not beating you, you have me. Fucking do it, Shin. I didn’t think you were one to hesitate.”
Shin yells, casting Sabine aside, her usage of the Force sending Sabine sprawling down the hallway. She doesn’t catch herself this time, sliding along the hallway, head down and breath bated. She’s lost her lightsaber, the metal hilt rolling somewhere on the dark floor, the blade retracted so she only has the fleeting light of the alarms to find it. Her blaster is still holsted to her hip, should she need it. And yet, Sabine has an inkling feeling she won’t.
When Sabine looks up, she is no longer in the dark hallway. She looks up at Shin and they stand on Lothal—their first fight, but before it begins. Shin, past Shin, stands in front of her, the star map in her hand, being handed off to a droid for safekeeping. Who are you? The thought echoes in Sabine’s mind, about her, not her own.
She’s thrown back again and this time when she lifts her head, Shin, the real Shin, is advancing on her, lightsaber raised. Sabine holds up an arm to block the blow, hoping her beskar will be strong enough to conquer Shin’s rage. However, instead of the clash of lightsaber against metal, Shin’s lightsaber blade stabs into the tile beside Sabine’s head. The tile is hard, but it seems Shin is pissed off enough to pierce it for a moment before the blade retracts and the hilt clatters to the tile.
“What are you doing? What did you show me?” Sabine asks, propping herself up on her elbows as Shin leans over her. She gets the distinct feeling that their everlasting fight is not over, just paused.
“I did not mean to. You wrenched yourself into my mind, pesky as always,” Shin explains. Her voice is calmer now, less tense, but still monotonous. She holds out a hand to Sabine, but she doesn’t take it. Not yet. “We are done. For now.”
“Why?” Sabine still doesn’t move, head tilted and brow furrowed in confusion. “You could have killed me.”
“I know.”
Sabine narrows her eyes quizzically. She runs through her options here, the blaster burning a hole in her hip. She knows what she needs to do. For once, she has the offense. Taking Shin’s hand, she lets the woman pull her to her feet.
The moment is fleeting, though, because Sabine, still a fighter, reaches for her blaster. Shin is faster, though, always faster. She brings up her forearm to knock the weapon away, clattering to the floor as Shin shoves her up against the wall of the hallway. They’re both weapon-less now, entirely disarmed by one another. The two share heavy, bated breaths, faces closer than need be for a hold like this.
Sabine’s eyes trace down the sight in front of her—piercing blue eyes, sticky sweat on her forehead, a spatter of blood on her cheek, the way her throat bobs when she swallows. She imagines what Shin must be thinking right now, forging herself through their connection to work her way into Shin’s mind—but the woman is shielding her, forcing her out. It seems the peek into a recent memory was enough to get her guard back up.
“Scared to let me in?” Sabine asks, jutting her chin out. The fight is done, both of them could have moved by now and yet neither of them dare. “Scared of what I might see? What you feel?”
“Shut up,” Shin bites. Sabine sees the wolf reflected in her, flashes of sharp teeth, ready to tear into Sabine at any given moment. The worst part is that Sabine thinks she would let her. The feeling is new, hastened by their connection, by the thrill of the fight. But it lingers persistently in the pit of Sabine’s stomach. Excitement, adrenaline, curiosity. Most prominent though, screaming in Sabine’s ears as she feels Shin’s hot breath on her face. Desire. “You are a nuisance.”
“And you are scared,” Sabine bites, shoving Shin back because she knows she’ll let her. Her boots slide against the tile and Sabine follows after her, a hand to Shin’s chest pushing her up against the opposite wall. Red lights flash against her fair skin. Shin’s hand comes up to grip Sabine’s wrist, but she doesn’t push her away, just holds her there. It’s now that Sabine distantly remembers her arm is bleeding, wincing as the adrenaline fades and pain shoots up her shoulder, distracting her.
Any moment now, droids could come running down his hallway, blasters on, aiming for Sabine and yet she takes pause here with Shin. She knows she shouldn’t—she should have run or reached for her blaster or any weapon in the last five minutes, but she can’t. She’s completely transfixed beneath Shin’s stare, frozen beneath her touch.
“What is this? What are we doing?” Sabine can’t help but ask, the thought one she knows is not entirely her own. It’s an echo of Shin’s, a crack in the shield. Another thing shared between the two of them. “I should kill you.”
Shin’s grip on her forearm tightens, voice breathless as she does not try to fight out of her position against the wall. “I know.”
Something in her voice is amiss—rough and guttural. It stirs something within Sabine, a feeling she’s trying desperately to shove down and failing miserably time and time again. Neither of them move for a moment. Not until Sabine takes her free hand and brings up to Shin’s neck. Her fingers trace carefully along the pulsing veins she spotted earlier, drying sweat brushing against her fingers until her hand reaches Shin’s jaw. She expects the other woman to move, to shove her off and call this quits (whatever this is), but Shin just stares at her; gaze piercing and breath heavy.
No sooner are her fingers tangled in the expanse of blonde hairs at Shin’s nape than the woman is surging forward, spare hand coming up to cup Sabine’s face, their lips meeting fiercely in a thrashing battle of teeth and tongue. Shin kisses hard, just as Sabine would expect her too. Like a scared animal, nipping first. Teeth and lips marr one another as Sabine tangles her hands in Shin’s white locks, the two of them breaking away from the wall until they stand in the middle of the hallway.
Sabine’s hand stays splayed against Shin’s chest, but it is different now—not intended to restrain, only to touch (touch, touch, touch). Every emotion she’s ever felt about Shin is amplified now, rippling through their shared power and through their kiss. Her nerves are alive against Shin’s armor and part of her craves to know just how soft she may be underneath it all.
Shin pants into her mouth, chasing after every kiss with another. The two women melt into something other than themselves; nothing more than teeth, tongue, and shared desire. Passion oozes from every touch, every kiss, every mingled breath. Sabine doesn’t think she’s ever been kissed like this in her life.
They break apart mainly because Sabine thinks she may drown in the touch of her if they don’t. The two women take pause, their foreheads resting against one another as they catch their breath. Every part of Sabine is alive, tingling. It almost feels the same as fighting her, the same rush of adrenaline and excitement except this time it’s different; brand new.
“This changes nothing,” Shin forces out in a grunt, but the tone in her voice is shaky now. Both of them know—this changes everything. “I will kill you, Sabine Wren.”
“I look forward to it, then,” Sabine steps back, reaching for where her blaster has landed on the floor, holstering it. Down the hall, she sees her lightsaber, discarded and at the back of her mind. Shin’s still lies on the opposite end. “Shin Hati.”
“ Sabine!” Ahsoka’s voice rings down the hallway, finally conquering the maze as their paths seem to cross once more.
Sabine’s hand rests on the handle of her blaster, eyes staring Shin down. This is not done and Sabine is starting to think it never will be. Before Ahsoka can turn a corner, Sabine reaches out once more. Her thumb brushes against the scrape on Shin’s cheek, the blood there. Some of the liquid comes off on the pad of her finger. Shin says nothing.
Ahsoka’s footsteps grow louder, frantic. They need to get the fuck out of here, Sabine knows this and yet she feels rooted to the ground, frozen beneath Shin’s gaze.
“Until next time,” Shin says finally, willing her lightsaber to her hand without moving a muscle.
She runs away down the opposite side of the hall, cloak disappearing around the corner just as Ahsoka enters. Sabine turns to her master, out of breath and bleeding.
“Sabine, you’re hurt,” Ahsoka tells her as if she isn’t aware of the blood staining the sleeve of her clothing.
Sabine shakes off the shock of her encounter with Shin, the feeling of their lips and teeth together still echoing in her mind. She finds herself wondering if they are her thoughts or Shin’s or if it really matters at all anymore. Ignoring Ahsoka’s comment, she stomps over to where her lightsaber is rolling around on the tile, the hairs on the back of her neck still on edge. Shin is still near. Sabine wonders if she is just around the corner; listening, waiting.
Sabine straightens up, holstering her lightsaber. “Let’s just get out of here.”