Despite how highly regulated Lothal was, it could sometimes be quiet, too. In the far end of the planet, away from the main city, in a position that allowed you to hear Imperial ships with enough anticipation, the Ghost Squad found peace. Fulcrum was yet to call with further instructions, which made this one day perfect to try to relax.

Maybe you could allow yourself—for just one day—to lower the fighting. To breathe, to unwind. Perhaps, just for today, you wouldn’t have to run. Fighting the Empire was a war you had deliberately taken on. One you would not think twice about choosing. Your lives were a necessary sacrifice for the well-being of the galaxy.

And maybe just today, you could allow your feelings for Sabine to unravel. It was always jokes-on-the-making on your side, trying to charm the Mandalorian your way—Sabine always found it endearing. Over time, the relationship stopped feeling like one of a kid enamoured with a woman a few years older, and rather took the form of one of equals—equally in love with the other.

Sabine and Hera were the only ones who hadn’t given you a hard time when you had first joined them. Zeb and Chopper always found a way to torture you, and Kanan’s stare resembled one of a stern master more than what he would like to admit. Hera was as comforting as a mother, yet she was ever the busy pilot. They all deeply cared about you, in their own ways, but nobody cared like Sabine.

The long grasses fluttered in the wind, brushing her arm as she raised it to point at an Imperial ship that had failed some months prior. It was discarded, an old TIE model who hadn’t exactly proved to be a proper ship. One hand rested on her stomach, lying on her back and letting out a relaxed breath. “I’m pretty sure I could paint that one. Make sure the Empire knows we don’t want them trashing our planets,” her head turned to you, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Are you going to help?”