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"I will never yield. You'll have to kill me."
Sabine Wren glared down at the cold, cruel eyes of the Governor of Mandalore, Gar Saxon. His plastoid armor that had replaced the tradional beskar plates absolutely disgusted her. He was a leech, a traitorous worm that bled Mandalore dry for the Empire's sake.
And he was within her grasp. She had not one, but two lightsabers crisscrossed at his throat. One simple flick of her wrists, and his severed head would go rolling across the frozen surface of the lake right outside her family's fortress. It would be a fitting end for a Mandalorian leader, to be beheaded by the Darksaber, just as Sabine's distant cousin, Pre Vizsla, the former leader of Death Watch, had been.
But that was the problem. Saxon didn't deserve to die in the same way Vizsla had.
So Sabine extinguished the lightsabers and straightened up.
"That may be the Mandalorian way, but it is not my way. Not anymore."
She turned and walked towards her friends, including Ezra, Kanan, Tristan, and her mother Ursa, standing at the edge of the frozen lake, forbidden from interfering according to the Mandalorian code. Ezra offered her a smile, but then his expression shifted to one of alarm.
A sense at the base of Sabine's spine prompted her to turn, just as she heard a blaster shot ring out. Instinctively, she raised Ezra's lightsaber, which suddenly ignited. The red blaster bolt bounced off the glowing blade and fizzled harmlessly on the ice.
Saxon's eyes widened, and he knew he was doomed. He didn't even have time to get to his feet before Sabine lunged at him. No one could have stoped her, not even the two Jedi present. In the blink of an eye, Saxon's blaster fell to the ice, and a second later, his head and severed hand did as well. Blood spurted from the stump of his neck and wrist, and his body collapsed, the white plastoid armor getting more and more stained with the bright red liquid with every beat of his heart, which hadn't quite registered what had happened to the rest of him yet.
It took three heartbeats for the blood to stop spurting out of the decapitated man's neck, and another two for anyone to react. Sabine dropped both the Darksaber and Ezra's green saber. She wasn't sure which one had done the deed, and she didn't really care. She backed away from the dead body, horrified at what she'd done without even thinking about it.
"Sabine—" Ezra said, but she was already running at a full sprint back to the Wren fortress.
Countess Ursa Wren bent down and picked up the Darksaber and Ezra's lightsaber, then handed them both to the younger Jedi. "Perhaps... you should check on her. I will deal with the Governor."
Ezra nodded, swallowing nervously. He and Kanan entered the fortress.
"Which way did she go?" Ezra asked.
Kanan frowned, looking both left and right, and although he couldn't physically see anything, he could reach out with the Force.
"That way," he said, pointing down a corridor. "To her room, I'm guessing."
Ezra nodded. He knew where it was, having had passed it once while Tristan was showing him around the place. Kanan followed him down the hall, but when they neared Sabine's door, Ezra tapped Kanan's arm.
"Let me talk to her first. The both of us might overwhelm her."
Kanan nodded and instead sat outside the door, ready to come in whenever Ezra or Sabine needed him to.
Ezra gave his master the two lightsabers and knocked at the door gently, but there was no answer. He knocked again, and was again left in silence. He was about to ask Kanan if he was sure Sabine was inside (the Wren stronghold was big, after all), but then the door cracked open a little bit, revealing one amber eye peering through.
"Hey, 'Bine," Ezra said. "Uh... you okay?"
"Ezra," she said plainly. "What do you think?"
"Can I come in?"
She hesitated for a moment, then opened the door wider and allowed him to slip inside. He'd never actually been inside her room before. It was spartan, like all the other rooms in the stronghold, and hardly more colorful. It didn't feel like this was where Sabine had grown up.
Her painted armor had been thrown onto the bed, which was the first time he had seen it treated with something other than the utmost respect. Sabine loved her armor and her weapons and probably valued them more than her own life. She always took good care of them. No matter how tired she was at the end of the day, she had a ritual for taking them off and carefully putting them away for when she'd next need them. But none of those procedures had been followed today.
"I came to check on you," Ezra said sheepishly. "You've had quite the day."
Sabine sat down hard on her bed, staring down at her hands, which still bore the red stains of Saxon's blood. Her armor also sported dried blood splatters on it, and Ezra was willing to bet that his did as well, even though he had been standing much farther away.
"Hey," Ezra prodded gently, kneeling in front of her and taking her hands in his. They felt colder than the weather outside. "You were acting in self defense. He attacked you from behind after surrendering to you. Doesn't sound very honorable."
Sabine shook her head. "In the old times, if a Mandalorian attacked from behind after surrendering to an opponent, he would immediately be declared dar'manda. Dishonored, along with his whole clan."
"You see?" Ezra asked. "Plus, he was endangering your life. You were totally justified in attacking him."
"Yes, but then I lost control," Sabine said hotly. "I... you saw what I did, Ezra! I decapitated him!"
Ezra tried not to recall the bloody scene. "You were scared. You weren't thinking straight."
"No, I wasn't!" Sabine shouted, then crumpled against the wall. Ezra came up to sit next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.
"I-I wasn't thinking," Sabine drew in a deep, shaky breath. "That's the worst part. I killed a Mandalorian, Ezra! I murdered one of my own kinsmen! It's very clear in the code: outside of an active war situation, no Mandalorian is to kill another Mandalorian. To break that law means to become dar'manda."
Ezra wanted to tell her that particular Mandalorian was a nasty piece of work and deserved it, and probably deserved much worse, but that probably wouldn't have made her feel any better.
"You were defending yourself, Sabine," he insisted. "What would've happened if he had gotten in a second shot? It might have been you out there instead, dead on the ice."
"But... I could have stopped at cutting his hand off... I didn't need to cut off his kriffing brainless head!"
"No, maybe you didn't," Ezra agreed carefully. "But Saxon might have agreed that being dead is better than being unable to wield a weapon. Even if you had stopped, he still would've found a way to attack you."
"I get it, Ezra," Sabine muttered darkly. "That past is the past. Saxon is dead. And I'll be fucked if Clan Saxon doesn't avenge his death. And they have the backing of the Empire. Clan Wren is doomed."
"Hey, you and your family showed up those Inperial supercommandos earlier today," Ezra said. "You guys were outnumbered, and you still came out on top."
"Saxon wasn't expecting a fight."
"All the men and blasters he brought seemed to suggest otherwise."
Sabine sighed and shook her head. "Saxon made my own mother turn against me with more soldiers than those he brought today. And Clan Saxon is not honorable. They will be back, even though I beat him fairly in single combat, per the Code."
"The Saxons may not have honor, but we Jedi do," Ezra said. "I promise, Sabine, the second Clan Saxon shows up with blasters blazing, I'll be here for you. Both Kanan and I will."
Sabine smiled tightly, but with genuine affection behind it. "Thanks, Ez'ika."
"Hey, it's what I'm here for. I gotta watch your back."
"That's not it. Thanks for being my best friend off the battlefield, too."
"Oh," Ezra's face reddened, but he pulled Sabine closer to him. "I mean, that's also what I'm here for."
Sabine laughed softly and hugged him back. He made her feel so much better. In his arms, she didn't feel like a guilty murderer anymore. The galaxy put her in some tough situations, but as long as Ezra was there to help her through them, she would always come out the other side all right.
They may have had a larger Mandalorian conflict looming over their heads, but Sabine couldn’t think of anyone she’d rather have by her side more than the annoying Jedi Padawan with the bluest eyes and worst fashion sense she’d ever seen.