The Deserter

Chapter 1

Desperate Times

Hello, this is darksawr, I'm back a month or two ahead of schedule XD. I come bearing what I hope is a new and improved version of The Mandalorian Rebel. I'd like to thank you all for your patience; hopefully, this will be worth the wait. I read all of the reviews you leave me and among them was a guest saying that he hopes that my character won't be a Gary Stu again.

I hope so too buddy, I hope so too….

Wish me luck fellas.

You may notice that this story will be significantly different than its predecessor. That's an intentional factor on my part because I wasn't satisfied with my previous storyline. Sues corrupt story trees from the very roots and I can't expect that the former won't carry the latter's stain, and I knew that my story was dying. So I figured that the best way to remedy this dilemma would be to wipe the slate clean and start a new plot. Let me know in the reviews if you think the previous story line is better or if you believe this one is an improvement.

Disclaimer: All I own is my OC, everything else is Disney's property.

On the planet of Nar Shaddaa….

"Twelve thousand credits!?", Sabine asked with a mood in between incredulous and angry, "For a simple engine part?"

"Chu bakta tiy mon!" the Gamorrean threw his arms up with a grunt.

"I don't care how difficult it was for you to obtain it." Sabine took a deep breath to calm growing frustration, "That isn't business that's extortion!"

"Uka yousa cheksboc glenvis!" the pig-like alien pointed back to the streets.

"I wasn't planning on sticking around." Sabine turned her back to the overweight vendor and walked away; ignoring the less than favorable words that the pig spoke under his breath.

Sabine activated the comm inside of her helmet with a sigh.

"This is Twister to Home, do you read me?" Sabine spoke into the communications device.

Zeb's voice greeted the young Mando's ears.

"This is Warbeast, I read you, any luck finding the part?" the Lasat asked with only a little hope in his words.

"Plenty, but none in our price range," Sabine reported, "How these vendors stay in business is beyond me with the prices they demand."

"That's Nar Shaddaa for ya Twister," Zeb stated with no humor in his voice.

"I know," Sabine admitted, "But what about you? Any luck on your end?"

"I think you already know the answer to that." Zeb dryly stated.

"Thought so," Sabine felt her stress level rise, "I assume the others haven't met a reasonable seller."

"We may need to resort to one of our alternative solutions."

"Stealing one won't earn us any favors around here, even if it is from these cheapskates." Sabine already had reservations about the alternatives, "And the work here doesn't pay nearly enough, we may be stuck here for months; even if all five of us managed to land a job."

"I don't like it either Twister," Zeb replied, "None of us do. But we can't waste time hoping to find an honest entrepreneur."

"'Entrepreneur'?", Sabine repeated, "I can not say I've heard you use that word, Warbeast."

Her quip earned a chuckle from the Lasat.

"I'll give the marketplace one last sweep before we rendezvous back at the Ghost." Sabine decided.

"Alright, see ya at the Ghost Twister, good luck."

The communicator was shut off, leaving the rebel with her thoughts; in truth that was the real reason why she wanted to stay an extra moment or two.

"One shot." Sabine gritted her teeth in frustration, "One lucky shot got us into this mess."

The entire event was still fresh in the Mando's mind. It was supposed to be a simple snatch and run; they've performed it dozens of times, but this time one pilot got lucky. Sabine knew for practically a fact that the Empire wasn't about to cut them a break anytime soon, but she was ready to take them on all the same. The Empire almost always sent one or two Star Destroyers alongside a couple of handfuls of TIE Fighters; with the occasional new model fighter or weapon. Predictable as they were, they still forced the rebels into a retreat; the number of rebel casualties growing by the hour and the number of Imperial losses shrinking with each battle.

Every member of the Ghost crew knew that they had more close calls than a pirate bought drinks, and this time luck seemed to favor the Galactic Empire when a TIE fighter landed a few well-placed shots on their means of transportation; effectively damaging the Ghost's engine and some parts of the hyperdrive. Long story short, they had to drop out of hyperspace and land on the closest inhabited planet to perform repairs.

"Just our luck that planet happened to be Nar Shaddaa." Sabine thought to herself, "Is the Empire getting better or are we just slipping up. Maybe our luck has run out."

Sabine disposed of the pessimistic thoughts quicker than she could blink. Unfortunate events such as these have happened before, and they've worked through them every time. For now, Sabine reviewed possible jobs she could take to help expand their price range, not the ones that paid next to nothing for long hours of labor, but the ones that involved risk and substantial reward. Unless a wanted outlaw with a bounty on his or her head happened to be on Nar Shaddaa without any intentions of leaving soon browsing the bounty board would be out of the question, and simply stealing either the part or the means to buy it would likely make some enemies that aren't too forgiving. The option of being a gun for hire appealed to the Mandalorian blood in Sabine's veins, but she wanted to consult her friends on that route first.

Sabine's thoughts distracted her from the armored individual approaching her from behind. But all it took was a single sentence to send her back into defensive mode.

"Can ya spare a moment of your time?" a voice filtered by a helmet asked.

Sabine quickly spun around, kicking the stranger on the right side of his ribcage. The man buckled in pain and raised his hands as quickly as he could to show he meant no harm.

"Woah! Take it easy!" the stranger exclaimed.

"You should know better than to surprise a Mandalorian." Sabine didn't regret the pain she inflicted upon this stalker.

"So that armor wasn't stolen, eh?" the man regained his composure.

"It wasn't. Can the same be said of yours?" Sabine asked as she slowly drew one of her pistols in case the stranger tried anything.

The Stranger did have Mandalorian Armor of his own, but it was significantly different from Sabine's. The armor itself seemed to serve as a uniform of sorts, but it was clear that its owner hasn't been taking care of it that well; evidently by the marks, blaster burns, mild rust, and the dirt that stuck to it like a second skin.

Sabine grimaced at the half-hearted attempt to paint it. She couldn't tell if he intended for a gray and red pattern or if he just threw on a color without thinking how it would mix with any colors that may have already been present. The helmet was the only part of the outfit that seemed to have been worked on with care, the crude imitation of an arachnids face and extra eyes was a bit less sloppy than the rest of the Stranger's handiwork.

"Maybe he's an admirer of Admiral Trench?" the back of Sabine's mind tried to reason the Stranger's choice of animal.

The Stranger merely shook his head.

Sabine released a sigh and slowly reholstered her sidearm.

"I apologize if I startled you." It was hard to tell whether or not the Mandalorian was sincere, "I have a proposition that may be of great interest to you."

"What makes you think I will accept?" Sabine asked with a brow raised; albeit it was invisible due to her helmet.

Sabine could almost sense the smirk forming on the Stranger's shielded face.

"You were arguing with the Gammorean about an overpriced component." The Stranger stated.

Sabine wanted to question how this man knew about that, but then she realized that her "chat" with the humanoid pig wasn't exactly quiet or discrete.

"I have a contract with a very generous client." The Stranger crossed his arms, "Unfortunately, I can't complete it by myself."

"I'm listening." Sabine mimicked the Stranger's action.

"My original group of hired guns apparently had some debts to pay," The Stranger continued, "I don't know who they owed or the reason for it, but whoever they owed must have lost his or her patience. Long story short: I am in need of a few helping hands."

"How much would my cut be worth?" Sabine asked.

"It will be more than enough to by ten of that Gamorrean's overpriced parts." The Stranger answered, "Interested?"

"My crew may be willing to aid you, but that's a matter I will need to discuss with them," Sabine replied, "I would like to know the details of this mission before I get into anything."

"If your crew is willing, meet me at this location," the Stranger handed the female warrior a data chip, "I'll tell you more then."

"I'll think about it." Sabine gave a simple nod as she stored the Stranger's chip.

Just as she was turning to leave, the Stranger apparently felt the need to get a few more words in before they parted ways.

"I wouldn't think about it for too long." The Stranger warned, "This offer leaves the table in six hours."

To the young woman, this sounded more like a demand than a suggestion, but she was no fool; this Strange Man was just as desperate for her assistance as she was for the engine components.

Sabine opted to remain silent and leave; this man had delayed her long enough.

An hour later, at the Nar Shaddaa Spaceport….

Sabine removed her helmet and ran a hand through her fiery orange-red dyed hair. She felt a genuine smile creep onto her face at the sight of the spaceship she has- and still does- consider home. The boarding ramp was down and the lights on.

Sabine wasted no time in scaling the ladder and entering the rec room. She didn't give much thought to the whereabouts of the Ghost's captain or their smart-mouthed Astromech droid, the need to sit down for a moment and rest her eyes took priority. The Mandalorian seated herself on the makeshift couch near the holochess table and placed her helmet next to her; a yawn soon escaped her.

Only now did Sabine realize how tired she was, her eyelids became nearly impossible to lift and the cold metal surface she was lying against began to feel very warm and inviting.

Sabine was out like a light.

15 minutes later….

Sabine felt a gentle hand grip her shoulder and shake her lightly; Sabine tried to ignore it and rest for just a few more minutes. The effort proved futile when the action occurred twice more and with greater force. Sabine opened her eyes halfway and readjusted to the light in the room. She also noticed that she was no longer alone, the person responsible for waking her was the green-skinned Twi'lek Hera.

"How long was I out?" Sabine spoke through a chortle.

"Only fifteen minutes, give or take." Hera smiled, "The others will be back soon."

"That's good to hear." Sabine rubbed her eyelids to brush the cobwebs out of her focus.

"I hate to ask, but did you have any luck finding those components?" Hera asked respectfully; not at all oblivious to the young woman's stress.

"Finding them? Plenty." Sabine stood up and stretched a bit, "Obtaining them? None."

"I figured as much." Hera sighed, "But I appreciate your effort."

"Not a problem," Sabine assured the Captain, "How are things around here? Any luck with the repairs?"

"I managed to patch up the Ghost's exterior engines and seal any holes the Empire made in my ship." Hera reported, "The bad news is that I am nearly out of welding fluid. With any luck, Zeb found a few canisters that aren't overpriced."

"What about Chopper?" Sabine instinctively looked around for the moxie-filled droid.

"There is only so much he can do for this type of repair," Hera responded, "He's recharging right now."

The sound of labored breaths and the clanging of metal cut off the conversation.

"Sounds like Zeb is back," Sabine observed.

"Hopefully with the fuel we need." Hera was confident that the requested item was the cause of the noises that followed the Lasat's breathing.

The two females of the crew walked out to the railing and gazed down at the load Zeb dragged in. To say that the rebels were relieved would be an understatement when they saw the giant tank of fuel sitting in their cargo hold.

"What took you so long?" Sabine joked.

A sigh and a chuckle escaped the Lasat at the same time as he was finally gathering his bearings.

"You try carrying a seventy-pound canister for over three miles." The Lasat countered, earning a small chuckle from the two rebels.

"Thanks for the help big guy." Hera climbed down the ladder and retreated into her work area for a short amount of time.

When the Twi'lek returned, she was wheeling out a few medium sized canisters on a gurney. Hera proceeded to attach a hose to the giant tank and began to siphon the fuel into the smaller canisters. When it became obvious that the pilot was no longer in a chatty mood, Zeb climbed the ladder and joined Sabine in the rec room to rest his aching body.

Zeb wasted no time in procuring a seat where he could rest his whole body while Sabine plopped herself on a seat across from him.

"I didn't know we needed fuel too." Sabine sparked up a conversation; they seemed to be what was keeping her stress level down.

"Hera contacted me with the news an hour or two before you did," Zeb elaborated; it was clear the alien was just as eager for a distraction as Sabine was, "But I'm just happy we accomplished something today. Even if it is something as trivial as shopping for supplies."

"You and me both, Zeb." Sabine nodded in agreement, "You and me both."

"I take it no vendors were willing to give you a discount?" Zeb's question was almost rhetorical.

"No such luck," Sabine answered, "Guess they don't like customers who are capable of breaking their wrists."

"Or it could just be that you don't have the charm." Zeb played along.

"Who? Me? Doubtful." Sabine laughed; her well-known spunk and wit resurfaced if only for a few seconds.

It was times like these that Sabine cherished the most; when all of the planning and fights just melted away into the background. When she reminds herself that she had no regrets for abandoning the academy and her family; she had a better one on this ship.

To the Mandalorian, this rare and lighthearted back and forth was akin to that shared between a brother and his youngest sister.

After a few more minutes of conversation, Zeb got to his feet and bid Sabine farewell before he went to his bunk to take a nap. Sabine was tempted to turn in for the night, but she knew that sleep would be difficult when she hasn't even heard a plan for the morning; must be a Mandalorian thing. Thankfully, the girl didn't have to wait for too long as Kanan and Ezra returned in less than a minute.

Sabine got to her feet and walked back out to the railing- curious to see what the two force wielders have brought back with them. The only thing they had with them was a single crate that kept in suspended animation by the anti-gravity batteries installed at its bottom.

"Good to have you back." Sabine greeted her friends.

"Good to be back." Ezra's voice showed his fatigue; if not from pushing the crate than from the very long and stressful day they've experienced.

Kanan merely gave a short wave and wasted no time in revealing the contents of the container. There were lines of tubes- some in worse condition than others- all were about the same length and width as a grown human male's arm.

"Probably that welding fluid Hera needed." Sabine thought to herself.

Whatever was inside had to wait because the leader of the team had a new set of orders for them.

"Sabine, please get Zeb to the rec room," Kanan ordered the Mandalorian.

"Roger that, Kanan." Sabine gave a quick salute.

"Meeting in five, I repeat, meeting in five!" Hera announced as she raised the boarding ramp back up; cutting off the flow of the cold night air.

Sabine almost felt bad when she stirred the warrior out of his sleep, but work came first. Zeb wasn't exactly happy, but he didn't take his frustration out on Sabine.

The rec room now had all of its crew seated and accounted for; save Chopper who was still shut down and recharging. Hera and Kanan both took a seat that on either side of the holochess table while Ezra had made himself comfortable on top of an empty crate.

Sabine let Zeb take the makeshift couch and took the rotating cockpit chair for herself.

Kanan's eyes darted around the room; instinctively making sure that every crewman was safe and situated, before broaching the matter at hand.

"I'm aware that you are all tired, but I need you to stay with me for a bit longer," Kanan noted the elephant in the room, "First, turn in whatever remaining credits you have to Hera."

The rebels complied without speaking a word.

Zeb pulled out three silver and one gold credit and dropped them into Hera's open palm.

Ezra fumbled through his pockets for a few seconds, trying to find which pouch he had stored the money in; when you had that many pouches on one belt, mix-ups were inevitable. Kanan's eyes opened a bit wider as he became concerned that the boy had either lost their remaining currency or was the target of a skilled pickpocket. Everyones' heart rate returned to normal when the Jedi in training pulled out the shiny bits of metal: five were gold, while the remaining seven were silver.

Sabine already had her share ready. She pulled out a big handful of credits and handed them to the Twi'lek.

"I'm sorry Hera, none of the offers were in our price range." Sabine apologized to the captain, "But I assure you I didn't spend a single credit."

"No need to apologize, Sabine," Hera's toothless smile did offer some comfort before she counted the currency to make sure Sabine's statement was indeed true, "Not a single credit is missing."

"Alright then, let's proceed," Kanan moved the meeting along, "Hera, how goes the ship repairs?"

"Slowly, it probably will take three to eight rotations, give or take," Hera reported, "But without the required components, the Ghost won't be going anywhere anytime soon."

"From what I've heard the prices for some of those parts ain't exactly reasonable or within our price range to begin with." Zeb gave his two cents.

"We know Zeb," Hera sighed, "Which is why we need to look for jobs."

"Or mercenary work," Sabine suggested, "The pay for working as a custodian or a dishwasher is next to nothing for very long hours."

"We are aware of that, Sabine," Kanan told the Mandalorian, "But Mercenary work could lead to harm of the innocents for whatever syndicate willing to pay our required sum."

"Not to mention, it could get our faces on the wanted board," Ezra added, "But it couldn't hurt to see who is wanted alive."

"We'll see if it comes to that." Kanan clearly wasn't that keen on that course of action; it was no way to make friends or avoid creating enemies.

"Let's not dance around the obvious," Hera sighed, "We should start looking for employment, it wouldn't be the first time we've done it."

"On those other occasions, the price gap was quite a bit smaller, and the vendors couldn't smell desperation from a mile away," Zeb countered, "I'm no stranger to how the credits flow on Nar Shaddaa, and the majority of it falls into the hands of gangsters and strongmen."

"We'd get paid a fraction of the scraps." Ezra had been a street kid for most of his life, he knew, perhaps more than anyone else on the ship, that Zeb wasn't exaggerating, "The longer we stay here, the more time we give the Empire to hunt us down. I don't know about you guys, but I'll take crossing a few thugs to the Empire finding us any day."

Kanan looked around. It only took him a brief glance to see that the other two crew members echoed the sentiment. The Jedi sighed and reluctantly surrendered to more efficient but controversial path of mercenary work.

"If you all believe that's the best course of action to take, I'll support it, but I don't want any of you to sign us up for a mission that involves the death of any innocents or families." Kanan relented; although he knew the crew never had any intention of going against those principles in the first place.

"You have our word, Kanan." Hera decided to speak for her teammates and reassure the Jedi that they haven't stooped to the Empire's level; they had no intention of starting anytime soon.

"Then we should rest up. Tomorrow we will look around, see if you anyone is looking for an extra blaster or two," Kanan suggested, "Unless anyone here already has a solution."

Sabine's eyes involuntarily widened as she remembered the Stranger's offer. She quickly fished through the utility pouches on her belt and pulled out the data chip.

"We might not need to," Sabine didn't hesitate to put the emphasis on the word might.

"Whaddya mean?" Zeb raised an eyebrow.

Everyone else just leaned forward an inch or two and listened intently.

"During my search for the engine parts, I was confronted by a Mercenary of sorts." Sabine explained, "He claimed to have overheard my argument with a Gammorean vendor and told me he was in need of some extra hands to complete a contract. Our cut would apparently be enough to buy ten copies of the parts we need."

"Did he explain the details of this mission of his?" Zeb was intrigued, "Did he mention who he was working for or if he was performing a hit?"

"I don't know whether or not he was a hitman," Sabine replied, "He won't tell me anything unless I meet him at the location on this data chip with anyone else willing to help; we need to act soon, he says the offer leaves the table in six hours. That was two hours ago."

"We should at least check this guy out," Zeb stood up, "I know you Jedi don't believe in luck, but I believe in opportunity and taking it when it shows itself."

"I don't know if now is the time to be taking unnecessary risks." Kanan was rightfully skeptical.

"It has gotten us this far, hasn't it?" Ezra chimed in, "It's not like we haven't taken risks before."

"You think I don't know that?" Kanan asked, "I know we need to take risks to come out of this war in one piece, but we are most vulnerable when we are planet-bound like this."

Kanan wanted to test the opportunity as much as any of his teammates, but he had to maintain a broader perspective whenever his friends were involved. He hadn't forgotten the crew's other encounters with opportunities that seemed too good to be true. Luminara Unduli, Gall Trayvis, Maketh Tua, all seemed like they would finally change the tide of the war, but the Empire got to every one of them first.

But the opportunity simply couldn't be dismissed no matter how many reservations the crew had.

"Alright, we'll meet this man and hear him out," Kanan relented, "Just keep an eye out for anything that may indicate a connection to the Empire or anyone else who wants our scalps."

"It's decided then," Hera crossed her arms and stood up, "Let's see what is on that chip."

Sabine handed it to the Twi'lek without a second thought. The alien took a simple holographic projector from her utility belt and inserted the data.

The machine sparked to life almost immediately and beamed out a projection of what appeared to be a map with an overview of the local Bazaar; all of the stands were so similar, Sabine couldn't tell whether or not it was the same district she'd just visited.

A blinking dot quickly captured the rebels' attention, and the hologram quickly zoomed in on the dot's location, showing a decently preserved bar. The dot expanded into a little box, allowing it to display a message.

"The Tainted Nectar." Sabine read aloud.

"Not the name I would have chosen," Ezra commented.

"We should get going," Hera ignored the Jedi in training's quip, "If this guy's offer is genuine I don't want to waste any more time."

The crew nodded in agreement and swiftly went to their respective quarters to retrieve anything they felt was needed; at the time it felt like that was everything they could carry.

Sabine felt her feet hit a few of the empty spray paint cans that littered her room's floors; the Mandalorian let a sigh escape her throat. She knew that it would take a few good hours of sleep to erase the stress completely from her mind because she was getting irritated by trivial matters that normally didn't bug her at all.

Shoving the thought out of her mind, Sabine knelt down and retrieved a digital lockbox from underneath her bunk and punched in the appropriate combination. The rebel opened up the container and fished through its contents -the lockbox was not exempt from her messy nature- and pulled out the first spare blaster cartridge she could spot and clipped it to her belt. After a few more minutes of searching, the young woman found her combat knife and clipped it to the back of her belt after sharpening it a bit on her shoulder guard.

Satisfied with her equipment choice, Sabine jogged to the cargo bay to find the rest of her crewmates waiting for her.

Zeb appeared to have grabbed nothing but his Bo Rifle.

Hera had put on her standard pilot gear, including the mask*.

Ezra had donned his signature cadet helmet and his hybrid lightsaber.

Kanan was the only one who didn't grab anything.

Sabine climbed down the ladder and accidentally bumped right into Chopper; the latter of which seemed to have finished his recharge session.

Chopper beeped angrily and used his hand-like appendage to imitate a shaking fist.

"Sorry buddy." Sabine apologized, "I thought you were still asleep."

Chopper let out another series of less angry but frustrated chirps.

"Well someone has to look after the ship." Sabine giggled at Chopper's slightly childish behavior.

Chopper let out what one could perceive to be as a scoff and rolled away.

Sabine gave a toothless smile and shook her head lightly before putting on her helmet.

"Let's get moving."

And that's a wrap! Be sure to review and tell me what you think of this compared to the original version. Personally, I am very excited about this one. I think I've matured and improved as an author, at least I hope so XD.

WARNING: LAY OF THE LAND RANT BEGINNING!

I do not intend to scrap this project. I will not include any other OCs for an important role in the story. I will not include any OCs belonging to other authors in my story unless I say otherwise. I intend to keep my character balanced, realistic, and reasonable.

My character will not be a connected to the Force in any way, shape, or form. He will not be reborn. He will not possess any unreasonable talents. He will not take charge of the crew. He won't be insanely protective. He won't have any special powers. He doesn't have any long lost family to avenge. He doesn't brood over a tragic past. He doesn't have a mercurial or two-faced personality. He isn't the Chosen One or "The only one who can save this from that." OR ANY OF THAT CRAP!

(calms down a bit)

I'm not too stubborn or proud to not acknowledge that my character was a Gary Stu in my previous stories, I'm not going to brush my mistake under the carpet, I'm going to own up to it and declare it right now for all to hear. I was naïve enough to think by adjusting him as I went through the story line would correct the error I've made. It is now that I realize I need to cut out the infection at its source and make a fresh start. I just hope that you can show me the same support as you did before and trust that I am telling the truth, I was blind to the constructive criticism you were kind enough to give me before; know that I have changed.

LAY OF THE LAND RANT OVER

(catches breath)

Phew! Thanks for bearing with me, I just had to get that out XD. I'd hate to return only to leave things on a sour note so here're some optimistic announcements. All in all, I am very confident and excited for this story, and again, I believe this will be a major improvement over the Mandalorian Rebel.

A/N: To those of you with a watchful eye, you may have noticed I dyed Sabine's hair orange-red instead of the violet color in Season 3. I don't know about you readers, but I think bright and lively colors bring out her personality. Let me know whether or not you agree with me in the reviews ;)

A/N: You may have noticed that the pace of this story is slower than its predecessor, that is a purposeful choice on my part to give the characters time to develop and grow. But when an action scene comes into play, I'll speed things up a little to suit the atmosphere.

Reviews tell me whether or not people read my story, so if you would be kind enough to drop me a review and perhaps tell other Rebels fans about my story, I would be very grateful. :)

Remember, I am still a busy guy. I need time and some support from you guys to make the future chapters, so review, tell me what you liked about this chapter and what areas you think still need improvement. Until next time, Auf Wiederzehn!

* For those of you who want an idea of what Hera's full pilot suit looks like, imagine the suit your character wears in the beginning of Destiny.

Glory to Mandalore!