Habitually, the Empire would crack down on anyone whose work did not glorify the sneaky Emperor's 'New Order.' Praising his demagoguery to the heights and squelching whatever didn't go along. The ideology was in keeping with the dictatorship's limiting personal freedom, something it excelled at. Surging with talent, creativity and thoughts, Sabine desired to become a famous artist, but the Empire's policy of suppressing creative talent had put a huge crimp in her aspiration. Yet, hope was known to spring eternal, especially under duress.

Once the Empire was no more, and one of the focal reasons why she was such a fierce fighter, aside from being Mandalorian, was to make this deplorable domination go away. Her dream would be realized, as would the countless dreams of others once the corrupting influences responsible tyrannized no more.

Ezra had innocently asked her not too long ago, "Are you a Mandalorian? A real one?" Here he was, bringing the hot-button topic up again. If persistence had a face, it would be his.

The rest of the crew, sated from a well-prepared meal, and wanting nothing more than to rest, for once, drifted off. Bent on involving themselves in other, less tedious pursuits. Not that they were being rude, they just preferred sparing themselves the lecture they had heard once before.

Sabine felt like telling Ezra what was what, this time. If he weren't a kid, a very cute, outspoken one, at that, she might have answered his questions with blasters. He knew nothing about her people and she wasn't inclined to give him supplemental information. Armored Mandalorians weren't exceptionally welcome in the galaxy, as a rule, ever since the empire had outlawed their mercenary practice and occupied her homeworld. The few who roamed the galaxy were, more than likely, armored imposters. Sabine Wren was most definitely not one of those. Not a stranger to bounty hunting, but a stranger to being anything other than true to herself, Sabine, at first had decided that Ezra didn't need to know about any of that carrying on. She had stuck to her resolve, her mind made up, that he could just keep right on absorbing any mystery surrounding her. Mum was the word.

For random persons, donning armor, and parading around the galaxy as a Mandalorian would evidence that Mandalore had either reverted back to those traditions, to some extent, or, that Death Watch continued to grow and made it 'popular' for others to take notice and take up the armor for themselves. Those actions, inevitably, built on the legend that had existed before.

The legend encompassing, and spreading, that Mandalorians were the most fearsome warriors in this galaxy in shambles. Sabine firmly believed, as did Bo-Katan: "Mandalore would survive. We always survive."

And, she'd changed her mind. Ezra was no longer a stranger; he had become the apple of her eye. She trusted him, knowing that whatever she told him wouldn't devalue her in his eyes. After dinner that night, she sat him down and began filling in the missing pieces of her life.

"You'll have questions," she prefaced, judging by the look in his eye he'd have loads. "My mother was a member of Death Watch. What's that, you ask?" She rolled her big, light brown eyes and infused the look she gave him with understanding. "I'll make it simple. A Mandalorian splinter group that opposed the pacifist rule of the government at the time. They were led by Duchess Satine Kryze, during the Clone Wars." Anticipating an immediate question, she put her hands up to stave what was on his mind, off. "Just let me get through the bulk of what I want to tell you."

"Okay, okay," Ezra yielded, backing down with a sigh.

She got back to the beginning of what would be a lengthy delivery. "They tried many times to overthrow the government, but failed taking over Mandalore. Eventually, they became part of Darth Maul's Shadow Collective, a criminal alliance founded during the Clone Wars by Maul. His villainous band worked alongside Maul as he'd enacted a plan of revenge against Darth Sidious. The group went on to fragment." She took a breath, then forded on. "But not before it successfully took control of Mandalore."

Ezra gawked; his eyes riveted to her serious face. He pursed his lips, on the verge of commenting, but didn't. She was on a roll, and far be it from him to stop her. This was the most fervently she had ever spoken to him, having put aside all reluctance to tell him more about herself. Her past, something of her heritage. The sound of her voice charmed him into submission; Ezra was all ears, eyes, mouth, tongue, throat. Which he didn't permit one sound to escape from.

"Following the end of Mandalorian Civil War, the Mandalorian warriors were exiled to the moon of Concordia where most of the warriors died out. Any survivors regrouped and began calling themselves the Death Watch. They were then led in secret by Concordia's governor, Pre Vizsla, of Clan Vizsla, and the Duchess Satine Kryze's sister, Bo-Katan. I'm clan Wren of House Vizsla.

"The civil war that took place erupted before the Clone Wars..."

To Ezra, the recounting of what had gone on with her world seemed like one never-ending saga of conflict. He reinvested himself, urging her to continue, giving her pointed looks. If there was going to be a quiz after this session, he'd beg off. His head had started to hurt, but he kept his mouth shut.

And Sabine went on:

"A division in the Mandalorian clans developed that stemmed from a fundamental difference in ideas over the our place in the galaxy. The conflict went between Mand'alor Jaster Mereel's True Mandalorians, who believed that we should act as honorable mercenaries. And Tor Vizsla's splinter group, known as Death Watch, which advocated that we needed to return to our savage roots as raiders and robbers. This war lasted over a decade with victories and losses on both sides. Jaster Mereel fell on Korda Six as a result of a sympathizer betraying him. Jango Fett succeeded him as the new Mand'alor, and leader of the True Mandalorians until the devastating defeat at the Battle of Galidraan against the Jedi Order."

At last she seemed to be running out of steam, or so it appeared.

Ezra thought to say as fast as he could, "Wow-against the Jedi, huh!"

Sabine threw him an impatient look, then her expression mellowed. "Oh, there's more. Lots more."

I bet...Ezra thought, a trusty smile plastered on his face, with no intention of discouraging her from continuing. This was some lesson he was getting and she had his full attention. He hoped he had hers.

"There, a Death Watch scheme unfolded that brought a contingent of Jedi Knights, led by Master Dooku to the planet under false pretenses that the True Mandalorians were murdering civilians." Hotly, she denied, "So not true?" Calming herself, her tale of intrigue and belligerence rambled on. "When the Jedi attempted to take them into custody, fighting broke out that left eleven Jedi and every True Mandalorian on Galidraan dead, save for Jango Fett..."

And all Ezra had asked had been how she felt about the Death Watch, turned Protectors.

At length, he still hadn't received a straight answer, but he had no doubts that Sabine knew her Mandalorian history, hands down. Although, since he knew none, she could have been telling him anything. He chose to trust that her recounting was the real thing. "What else?" Ezra gently prodded.

"You seem like you can't get enough of this stuff," Sabine chided, indeed looking as if she'd forgotten where she'd left off. After yawning, she backtracked. "Okay, so...ah. Jango Fett..." Another yawn, and she was off again. "As Kal Skirata had once said, 'No true Mandalorian can live alongside the Death Watch."

"Was he right?" he asked with a shrug. Sabine's ambiguous expression lent itself to Ezra's hit-or-miss conjecture.

She answered his shrug with one of her own. "The civil war was fought over conflicting culture. How we Mandalorians would live in the future. Our more impressionable poets poeticized the conflict as being a battle for our very hearts. Although the Death Watch succeeded, destroying their True Mandalorian foes, Jaster Mereel's Supercommando Codex would live on under his adopted son Jango's reign as Mand'alor for generations after."

And just when Ezra believed his head couldn't spin any more than it already was.

Sabine waxed more pensive. "No Mandalorian would dispute that in spite of its philosophical and ideological importance, the war had been fought between two relatively small factions, in what was seen by some as little more than a common power struggle. Mandalore's full-time army had been swallowed by the conflict, along with several prominent clans, but it had barely touched Mandalorians living off-world, even those in the Mandalore sector.

"After the war, Jango Fett, scarred both by the loss of his True Mandalorian compatriots and his years as a slave, grew distant from the people, and his role as Mand'alor. He turned instead toward the reclusive life of a bounty hunter until his death at the First Battle of Geonosis."

All right, enough was enough. He'd asked her for a little insight into her background, and the floodgates opened. But, Ezra was about to offend her by even hinting he had had enough 'download' for one day.

Fortunately, he didn't have to say a thing. Sensing his patience was wearing thin, and her own fatigue, her jaw was sore after so much yammering. Why not give him a chance to wag his tongue? "Ezra, what do you think was going on with the Pergil?"

"I was able to form a very strong link with them, according to Kanan." His chest expanded with pride. "He says I'm getting very good at establishing connections with other 'sentients.'" His Force-repulsion needed work, though, as Kanan had mentioned after saving him from falling into the gas pit the first time. "I think I bonded with the Pergil that saved me."

Arching her voice, and striking a pose that was a clear indication that she wouldn't mind if he sat closer to her...maybe even cozying his arm around her shapely shoulders, Sabine said, "That Pergil isn't the only one you've bonded with." She arched her eyebrow and insisted, "If we ever run into that pod again, remind me to thank him for saving you." As Ezra took the hint, snuggling up against her, Sabine kissed his cheek.

"Do you like Pergils?"

Sabine uttered a slight humph. "I guess..." She thought about the fantastic light display they had put on across their mammoth bodies. With a smile, she replied, "What was it like riding one?"

An hour later, Ezra was still at it, describing how incredible the whole unforgettable experience had been as Sabine dozily slipped in and out of consciousness. When he finally came up for air, he noticed her present condition, then suddenly remembered she hadn't really supplied what he wanted to know, namely: What it meant to be Mandalorian, for her. Shrugging, he knew that an understanding, sympathetic guy wouldn't press. He'd wait for a better time to pin the girl he liked down for a straight answer.

Not only was Ezra Bridger learning the ways of the Force, he was also learning the valuable skill of being a sensitive guy who understood when to goad a woman, and when to back off. Until next time.