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THE WORLD WAS quiet in the hull of the Razor Crest.
"Tess." the girl did not look up. Her eyes were trained on the metal plated floor, watching each curve and crevice with enough intensity that the Mandalorian thought she might burn a hole through it. He was across from her, an unfinished bowl of broth in his hands. They'd been eating happily for a while, but then Tess had frozen, and hadn't snapped out of her daze since.
"Tess." the girl gripped her bowl so tightly it might have bent, the steel reluctantly giving in to her fury. Tess Oprin could always do the impossible, like bend metal or fix a machine in less than an hour. She had that effect, the ability to startle others into submission. The Mandalorian knew this well, probably more than anyone else. He understood she would not talk if she didn't want to, and there was barely anything he could do to change that.
"Tess." for the third time, the Mandalorian called out her name. It was soft on his lips, a stark contrast to the name on other's. The people of Mos Pelgo had thrown around her name as if it were a hot knife, able to burn and cut them at the same time. Even the Marshal, who cared for Tess like no other, had said her name with caution, with an edge, as if one wrong tone and she would explode.
He was right, of course, but it did nothing to quench the conflict in the girl's heart.
The Mandalorian was different. He didn't talk to her like she was a grenade, nor even a storm about to swallow the world whole. He talked to her as if she were human, spoke like she was nothing more than a fifteen-year-old child. He didn't think she was a monster, a violent beast who turned a cold shoulder to everyone she ever met.
No, the Mandalorian did not think she was heartless. He thought she was simply a girl with tragedy running through her veins.
Her sudden and unexpected voice had the same feather touch as his own. "Have you ever taken off your helmet?" The question pulled the Mandalorian into zero gravity, his insides tightening, combusting in on themselves. Tess finally looked up, her eyes were glistening with unshed curiosity.
"What?" Tess almost flinched at the hoarseness in the Mandalorian's tone. Her hands were shaking, he saw, the broth inside her bowl quivering from the force of her grip. Her hair had fallen over her eyes. Her features were stark, sharp and unforgiving, just like her heart. Yet even that had grown soft over the weeks.
