SHORT CIRCUIT ─ the mandalorian ✓

TWENTY-SIX

"Tython." Din said absent-mindedly, watching the awe that passed across Tess' face. "We'll land in a bit." The girl nodded slowly, her mouth opening slightly, before it closed again with a snap, as if she'd decided against speaking.

Beneath his helmet, the Mandalorian frowned. Tess continued to stare out the window, taking tiny, shallow breaths. Her eyes were clouded with thought, so potent the man could almost swear he saw them, light threads weaved upon her head of damp curls. Faded ivory against ebony. white against black. That was Tess, there was no doubt.

Grogu cooed from where he distracted himself with his little toy. The ship was silent besides the usual hum of the hull, the beeps and thumps of the inner working of the aircraft. It was an incessant sound, a rattling of molded metal and fused beams, electrical wires strung through the walls like arteries, red and blue and pumping the fuel as a lifeline. It was beautiful, the things machines could do, without the burden of emotion and a real heart. To live and breathe as a unit, and die when it needed to.

For a moment, Din couldn't see fault in Tess' strewed ideals when it came to machinery.

"Din..." speaking of the young mechanic, her weathered voice came through his helmet like a vibroblade, strumming with electricity and hurting just as much. In an instance, the Mandalorian turned in his seat, his attention going back to the young girl. She had also turned in her seat, to face him. Her hands were in her lap, and she tapped one finger on top of the other continually. Her metal leg bounced up and down. The fractured wires had been put back in place by her own hand, sweat and tears going into making her leg as good as it could be.

But it still wasn't perfect. She didn't think it would ever be.

"Tess?" he asked, and didn't elaborate. The girl blew out a breath, leaning back to rest her head against the chair, messing up the back of her hair. She didn't say anything for a moment, clenching her jaw, biting down on the inside of her cheek. Inside her, a storm raged.

"Do you think that man will come after us?" she finally spoke up, her tone biting. It wasn't hard to understand who she meant. The mercenary, the spy that had almost killed her the day before. The smiling one, who, even as Din shot him, had a perpetual look of reverence on his scarred face.

In truth, the man's face had not left Mando's thoughts since he'd carried Tess away from the bloody scene. His eyes sharp and wise despite his predicament. Amusement in his gaunt features, slim and lined with overlapping scars. His clothes, musty and ridden with holes, the perfect outfit for a hired soldier. There was no doubt he'd been hired by the Empire, or what was left of it. The thought brought a sour taste to Din's mouth, the idea that Moff Gideon knew of Tess, the girl who'd eluded him before. The girl he'd almost got his hands on.

He should have shot the soy in the chest.

"No." Mando said honestly, his voice dim. "And if he does... I'll make sure he doesn't get anywhere near you."

At this, Tess' head tilted upwards, her whole face coming into view, light shining against her pale skin. The Mandalorian sucked in a breath. This was not the Tess he knew. The Tess he knew was sharp edges and all angles, even in the calm of morning. The Tess he knew carried the weight of her past like a trophy, a burden, yes, but one she was able to lift. The Tess he knew didn't let the walls around her crumble, not when she was scared, not when she was about to die, not ever.

But the Tess he saw now was none of those things. Tears fell upon her cheeks, heavy and glistening, a living being that tracked cuts into her flesh. Her eyes were wide and doe-like, her mouth puckered as she struggled to keep in sobs. Her hands were shaking, shoulders heaving, and she anxiously tried to quell the quivering in her leg.