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FOR TESS OPRIN, the world had always been black and white.
There was good and evil, sure, but that wasn't what Tess believed. For Tess, the black and white was life and death, living and survival. She was a survivor, a defender of herself, not caring who protected her, because they didn't matter. She looked out for herself and herself only, always had. When her parents died, she had no one else to rely on, and she found that was how she liked it.
She lived in the dark, in the black ebony and midnight sky, alone and unburdened. Her strength came from being alone, from the silence which followed. Yes, she had Jo and the Marshal, but she didn't rely on them, she couldn't have cared if they left her or stayed.
The rest of the galaxy lived in the white, in the pale clouds and glistening stars. They had commitments, they had family. They loved and they laughed and they were ruined because of it.
Tess had vowed never to lose herself in the light, as it would only end in heartbreak.
Yet there she was, speeding along a grey corridor, alarms blaring in her ears so loud she could barely hear her hurried breaths, stepping into the light. Her heart ached, more than it had for a long time. Her mind was torn in two, her steps laboured, limp pronounced. She felt the same as when she'd stood on the edge of the canyon, looking down to the bombs planted in the and in front of the Krayt Dragon's layer. She'd been terrified, and the only solace came from a beskar clad warrior reaching down to grip her clenched fist.
It was that very same Mandalorian that Tess couldn't get out of her head as she sped now through the halls, Greef Karga at her side, Cara Dune and Mythrol up ahead. A stun blaster was tucked into the pocket of her coat, the coat the Mandalorian had given her on the ice planet as her bruised ribs healed and she fought with him to help fix the ship.
Tess almost smiled at the memory, remembering the fresh wind on her cheeks and easy manner in which the Mandalorian, the child, and her lived for a time. For some reason, it felt like a million years ago, like Tess and him would never get that back. It was silly, of course, as nothing had really changed, and yet, it seemed everything had.
Because Tess Oprin trusted the Mandalorian.
That was what had changed. It was a stark shift from who she'd been on Tatooine, not even letting the Marshal, a man who'd basically taken care of her for 5 years, get close. But with the Mandalorian, it was different. He understood. By some unseen force, some good graces, some deep and hidden past, the Mandalorian understood her. He knew what it was like to wear masks, knew what it as like to live your life alone.
