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The sound of bokken sabers clashing echoed through the training hall like rhythmic thunder— each strike of wood against wood reverberating in the space like the beat of a frenzied dance. Shin Hati and Ezra Bridger had been at it long enough for sweat to stream down their faces, muscles to burn, and breathing to grow heavy, yet neither of them gave in.
Their strikes were precise, agile, almost choreographed— and at the same time, unpredictable. Every block was met with a thrust, every attack answered by a spin that returned the sword to a defensive stance. At one point, both of them used the Force simultaneously, creating a pulse that sent them a few steps back. They landed on their feet, of course, almost laughing.
Ezra grinned, panting. “You’re way too intense, Hati. You’re going to make me feel old.”
Shin lowered her bokken and gave a half-smile. “Maybe you already are.”
Ezra laughed and flopped onto one of the benches, grabbing his water bottle. “Maybe. Or maybe it’s just you overdoing the dark side energy.” He winked.
Shin huffed but grabbed her own bottle, unoffended. She was used to Ezra’s style by now. Beneath the teasing and sarcasm, he was surprisingly loyal—and a good training partner.
They were ready to start again, bokken raised, stances set, when the door to the hall opened.
Sabine Wren walked in, her hair a bit messy, eyes sparkling, and the expression of someone who had clearly slept in. She paused in the doorway, arms crossed, observing the scene.
“You two are really competing to see who collapses first, huh? Impressive,” she said, rolling her eyes.
Ezra turned with a smirk. “We take training seriously here. Unlike some people who only show up after caf… and a second cup.”
Sabine wasn’t backing down. “Oh, sure, the Jedi Master is now a stamina champion. Bet you can barely keep up with Shin.”
Ezra chuckled. “Well, now that you’re here, it’s your turn.”
“Exactly.” Sabine picked up one of the training bokken, twirled it between her fingers as if it were part of her body, and pointed it at Shin. “Your move.”
Ezra stepped back, sheathing his sword. “Good luck. There’s no mercy with Shin.”
Before leaving, he glanced over his shoulder. “Believe it or not… I have a date today.”
Sabine froze mid-motion, one eyebrow raised in surprise. “You? A date? I need to see this. Are you wearing that ridiculous poncho you love?”
Ezra laughed. “Ridiculous? That poncho has saved my life more times than you, Wren.” With a wink, he was gone.
Shin watched silently, bokken ready, a faint smile playing at the corner of her lips.
Sabine turned to her, stepping into the center of the hall. “Tired after fighting Bridger? We could take it easy…”
Shin raised an eyebrow. “You waited until now just to catch me exhausted?”
Sabine feigned innocence. “Never. What kind of dirty tactic do you think I’d use?”
“All of them,” Shin replied dryly, but with the gleam in her eyes that only appeared when she was having fun. “You don’t play fair, Wren.”
“And yet, you love me for it.”
Shin rolled her eyes. “We’ll see about that.”
They took their stances. Sabine spun her bokken with elegance, testing its weight. Shin remained steady, eyes locked on her—not the sword, but the way Sabine smirked, ready to provoke.
The first strike came from Sabine. Quick, controlled, just testing Shin’s reflexes. The blonde blocked with ease, countering with a spin that nearly brushed Sabine’s side, but she dodged with a laugh.
“You’re going easy on me,” Sabine accused.
“Maybe I just don’t want to hurt you,” Shin shot back.
“Afraid of losing, then.”
“You talk too much,” Shin said, advancing with two rapid strikes that forced Sabine to step back.
But the Mandalorian didn’t seem to mind giving ground. On the contrary—she smiled. Every clash of their bokken was accompanied by a look, a closeness more than necessary. Sabine moved with elegance, but there was something provocatively deliberate in her steps. As if she were dancing.
And Shin, no matter how much she tried to focus, noticed.
This wasn’t just training anymore. It was a game of intentions, teasing, and mounting tension. The swords struck, but their eyes said something else entirely.
In an unexpected move, Sabine spun and slid to Shin’s side, striking low and unbalancing her. Before the blonde could react, Sabine shoved her with her shoulder, sending her sprawling onto the mat. Quick as lightning, she mounted Shin, pinning her wrists above her head.
Shin froze, green eyes locked on Sabine.
“I win,” the Mandalorian said, a mischievous grin on her face.
“You cheated,” Shin replied, rolling her eyes.
“But you’re on the ground. That counts as a victory to me.”
The silence that followed was different. Dense. Bodies too close, breaths shallow, eyes fixed on one another. Sabine leaned in, lips almost touching Shin’s, when—
The door opened.
“Ah—! I… I can come back later.” Huyang’s voice cut the tension like a sharp blade. The droid stood awkwardly. “I just wanted to observe the training. But… maybe later.”
Sabine didn’t move. She just gave the droid a sideways glance. “Seriously, Huyang?”
“Sorry.” Huyang started to leave. “Or maybe… I won’t come back at all today. That’s it. Good afternoon.”
The door shut.
Sabine let out an exaggerated sigh and stood, offering her hand to Shin, who took it silently.
“He has the worst timing in the galaxy,” Sabine commented, helping Shin to her feet.
Shin just turned her face toward her, eyes still locked. Sabine smiled, stepping closer and gently brushing a hand across the blonde’s cheek.
“You need a haircut. Your bangs are almost covering your eyes.”
Shin raised an eyebrow. “You can cut it later. Just don’t cut too much.”
“I promise just to trim the excess. And maybe make it stylish.”
Shin pulled her to her waist, and Sabine’s arms automatically wrapped around her neck. The touch felt natural, as if done a thousand times before.
“You’re impossible,” Shin murmured.
“And you love it.”
Without hesitation, Shin kissed her—intense, unhurried, making clear everything the training, glances, and silent touches had already said.
When they finally parted, breathless, Sabine teased: “Huyang could come back at any moment…”
“Let him try.”