ONE


 CHAPTER ONE. 

THE HEARTLESS


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Tess Oprin knew what it was like to feel nothing.

She had lived fifteen years with the knowledge weighing her down like a boulder placed permanently on her back. She knew what it felt like to feel nothing, if you could forgive the irony. It was everything good and bad and in-between in the world, and it all rested within her. Nothing was the kind of thing that you knew, but could not see, yet it was as tangible as metal. It was the wave of heat that rendered your limbs useless and your mind numb. Nothing was the enemy to all, for it took everything from you and left something else --something terrible-- in return.

Nothing was having no heart, and Tess knew all about having no heart.

The children of the town called her many things. They whispered behind her straight and proper back. They huddled close to one another as she walked across the sand, her metal leg glinting in the heat of the day. The kids would always glare at her when she spoke; her short, clipped words like a snake waiting to bite.

They called her many things, but the only one Tess truly agreed with was heartless. Tess Oprin had no heart. Where what should have been a pumping, beating, ruby-tinted ball of love and hope and desire sat only a cold empty space. Tess didn't care whether people hated her or not. She couldn't give a damn if the Elders scolded her or a towns-person was killed in an accident (as long as it wasn't her fault, Tess would turn the other way). She was a girl of frowns and fear, glistening behind her electric eyes.

Tess Oprin had no heart.

Well, the townspeople thought, it wasn't exactly true, as Tess did have a heart. It was a required part of the anatomy, something keeping her --unfortunately-- alive and somewhat feeling. No, what Tess didn't have was a heart for others. She preferred cold, calculated results, something that always appeared exactly as she wanted. Machines and technology and mechanics was what called to Tess, not the laughter of children or the feeling of a nice cold glass of crystalline water after a day of fun out in the sand pits.

She was an anomaly. A girl of thunderstorms and lightning strikes in a world of seething sunlight and blistering heat.

The girl sat at a table now, drawn into the shadowy confines of the mechanic shop. Tools and machinery were littered around her in perfect disarray. Shells and bolts and cuplinks and laserfire all culminated into an organized chaos that was completely her own. The astromech droid in front of her whirred to life at the flick of a switch, and Tess pulled her goggles up proudly, admiring her work.

The droid belonged to the oldest in their town. Her name was Jynna, an old crone of a woman with barely any hair and a scowl to match her temper of fire. She had been the first one to meet Tess properly when the young girl had come into the market, the fresh tears of her parents death's still glistening in her eyes. The woman had taken one look at the scraggly little girl coming off of the transport and immediately grabbed hold.

Where are you going, girl? Jynna had spat in Tess' face. She had already taken note of the hastily made leg clanking along one side of the little girl's leg, as well as the squinting eyes and puckering lip. This girl had been through hell and back, there was no doubt about it.

Away, Tess had replied, her voice monotone and lifeless. Jynna had frowned, one eyebrow raised, an old woman with little to do now that she was too weary to help in the mines.

Then you will come with me, she had said, grabbing Tess' shoulder and pushing her towards her speeder bike. The market square where she had originally come to pick up food was lost, a memory long forgotten.

Where? Tess asked. The old woman looked down at her, and smirked. Tess didn't like the look, so she scowled and began to turn away, hoisting her knapsack onto her tired back once more. She didn't have time for the old woman's tricks. She was exhausted and starving, her knee aching at the feel of flesh grinding against metal. The woman had grabbed her arm and spun her around again.

As if she had read Tess' mind, Jynna said; you want to sleep? You want to finally lay down and rest, little girl? You want a place where you're not running? Stunned into submission, Tess had nodded, and then the old woman had taken her again, and brought her here.

Mos Pelgo, an abandoned town hard to find and harder to get to. When Tess had stepped foot into the sand pit, the grime and the dust and the feeling of something lost pushing against her body, Tess knew that to some extent, she was home. At least, for now. The people didn't so much as look at the dark haired girl with the metal leg at the beginning. They were too busy trying to stay alive that the presence of one more insignificant life form was nothing new to them.

Tess respected that.

She was eleven then, a girl of fresh wounds and a blistering heart. Jynna led her through the town, no bigger than a couple miles, and she soon found herself in a bar, empty save for one person. Tess frowned at the woman, tugging on her hand.

I want to sleep. She'd said, but what she really meant was I need to sleep. Exhaustion pulled at her limbs. Her leg ached to be removed, and her head lolled to the side for a second. She was a girl in need of the drowsy confines of unconsciousness. She needed a cot to lay down in knowing she was safe, knowing that the man in the black Imperial armor wouldn't find her.

Tess scoffed, and focused her work back to the droid in front of her. The unit had been crushed by a shard of sand in another Tusken attack on the outskirts of town. There was no blaster fire that night, only shrieks and grunts of combat as the townspeople figured out what was happening. They were too slow, Tess thought, if they had been more aware of their surroundings then the harvest wouldn't have been stolen. Then again, she reasoned as she worked, it wasn't up to the townspeople anymore, it was up to the Marshal.

The Marshal, a man of dripping charm and fierce passion for his town. Equipped with armor always in need of a spruce up, the Marshal had been defending their town since before Tess had arrived. When she'd met him, he'd been all compassion, taking off his rusting helmet and kneeling down to Tess' eye level.

When he'd told her his name --Cobb Vanth-- Tess immediately knew he was better than most. A man you couldn't trust was a man who hesitated in speaking his real name. Tess has learnt that the hard way, just a couple days after losing her parents.

Vanth was partial to her, and tried to take Tess under his wing like one of the sand vultures protecting it's grotesque children.

But Tess was no baby.

When the Marshal's kindness was met with the blunted words of Tess Oprin, the cold hardened stares of steel and storms, he had backed away. He'd left Tess alone for the first couple of months, letting the girl adjust to a life out in the middle of nowhere. In that time, Tess had retreated further into herself, until all that was left was an empty shell. An exoskeleton, with more the personality and attitude of a droid than a human girl.

Tess liked it that way. It meant she couldn't get hurt ever again.

The Marshal came by only when he needed to, and now it was happening more.

The Raider's attacks were getting more and more frequent, with the harvest's supplies depleted to nearly half. Not to mention the terrible sandstorms they had been getting. The Marshal was visiting her shop more and more, needing repairs on his Mandalorian armor so he could keep protecting them. But even that was getting volatile.

Because of the Dragon.

For years now, the Krayt Dragon had been terrorising their town, pulverizing their houses and eating their Bantha's for breakfast. It was a colossal giant that never came very far above the ground. Tess had only ever seen it's head, and she had no wish to know what lurked beneath the creamy white of her world.

The unit whirred to life and pushed against Tess' leg. It was thanking her, and the translator she'd installed into her ear repeated the droid's words back to her. Thank you. Tess nodded in response, but said nothing. The droid paused for a moment, then headed out the open door to her shop. It knew the way home, Tess had made sure of that, programming the coordinates into the Droids navigation system. It was tricky work, as the hardrive was found in the middle of the unit, but Tess wasn't called the mechanic for nothing.

It was an unlikely gift, her affinity for droids and all things containing metal parts. Whenever she received a broken unit, Tess would place her goggles on her head and an outstretched palm on the broken thing. She couldn't quite describe it in words, but it was if she knew instantly where the problem laid, and how to fix it. Thus, after two long years, Tess was named the mechanic of the town, and the Marshal had allowed her to set up a shop on the edge of Mos Pelgo.

The shop was Tess' little haven. It was a place she could go to when everything else seemed to be thrown in the gutter. She could lock the doors and not let anyone in. It was her escape.

A knock on the open archway startled Tess out of her reverie. She thought she knew who it was, and she was tempted to tell him to shove off, but held her tongue. The last thing she needed was another townsfolk on her bad side. Tess forced her head up to look at the intruder. When she caught sight of the girl in the doorway, Tess' features softened.

(But only slightly)

"Hey, Jo." Tess called out, turning back to cleaning up her mess. She placed her wrenches away and wiped her grease stained hands on the dirty washcloth. The cloth wouldn't help, as the oil had already soiled her hands like scars, but it was a familiar habit. Tess would never break a habit unless she had to.

Jo, a stocky, dark-skinned girl with an abundance of curls and soft, kind eyes walked into the shop. She wore her signature box hat over her hair, a pair of googles similar to Tess' over them. Jo reminded Tess of the sun. She was exuberant, a plethora of niceties and goodness all rolled into one. She was as sweet as sand treats, and whenever Jo visited Tess in her shop, the room seemed to brighten, washing out the darkness like sunlight pouring over the dead of night.

The townsfolk called Jo the sweetest of them all. Tess called Jo a do-gooder, but she couldn't deny the girl's appeal. Jo was the only girl Tess ever allowed into her shop for non-business relations. The girl would often bring Tess dinner, as Tess was prone to forgetting all about the necessities to live and strictly focused on the machinery in front of her. You're going to starve one day, Jo teased whenever Tess wolfed down the half portions.

Tess would scowl and reply with; Then I'll starve.

(Tess was not one for small talk)

"Hello!" Jo said cheerfully, prancing into the room. Usually, Tess might have sneered at a girl as radiant as Jo, but she held back for this particular one. The difference between them was that Jo knew when to keep her distance. She had a sixth sense for when Tess was in a bad mood, and never stuck around for long, usually dropping off spare parts or a round of lunch, saying a quick formality, then bolting from the place.

One day Tess had been so bold as to ask why Jo knew to give her space, and Jo had responded in the most unexpected ways. You don't know what's going through someone's head. I've made it my responsibility to try and understand as well as possible. That was the day Tess realized Jo wasn't just any other townsfolk, she was her friend.

"What are you doing, right now?" Jo asked. Tess cleared her throat and sat up on one of the tables in the shop. She propped her real leg onto the table and let her other one hang limp over the edge. Tess rubbed a hand through her tired eyes, not caring in the slightest that she had just rubbed filth all over her porcelain cheeks.

"Nothing." Tess replied honestly. She eyes Jo, suspiciously. "Why?"

Jo placed her hands innocently behind her back and began to sway. "I was wondering if you might like to join us for a round of Bantha Ball?"

Tess groaned and Jo hit her arm. This made her stop and glare towards Jo, but the girl was already turning away. Tess forgave her. You could never stay mad at Jo for long.

"Come on, Tess!" Jo exclaimed. "It's been weeks since you last played, and that was only one round."

"And it shall stay one round for as long as I live." Tess replied bluntly. "No, thank you." Tess thought her argument reasonable, and she prided herself for being as formal as to say thank you. Those words rarely ever tumbled from the lips of Tess Oprin.

Jo was not amused. She leaned against the wall and crossed her arms, eyes hardening. Tess felt a quiver in her throat. She pushed the feelings down. They were foreign and unwanted, and she did not desire Jo's approval at all.

"Tess." Jo said, her voice as dark as the night sky. "Are you really going to hole up in here forever? Are you really going to stay in this mechanic's shop fixing droids until you become nothing more than dust?"

Tess didn't hesitate in answering. "Yes."

The words were plain and unbidden, as simple as the sand she walked upon. But sand has a way of surprising people. They are not just one rock, they are millions, different types and builds and shapes and sizes. Laying beneath Tess' words were a million others she would never speak of.

I want this. Oblivion doesn't scare me. I need this. Emotions Tess had vowed never to feel again rose the surface of her body and flesh. They tingled beneath her scarred and calloused fingertips. The shock of it ran through her entire body (save the metal parts), and Tess gasped, moving backwards. She collided with one of the tables. Bolts and screws flew in all directions, scattering across the floor like womp rats scattering from a predator. Tess cursed under her breath and quickly knelt down to start picking them up. Her leg screamed in protest, but she bit through the pain.

Living in a place of only sand wasn't great when you were part metal. Tess had been oiling and cleaning out her leg ever since she had arrived in the town. Though the prosthetic was as good as she could make it with the things she had, sand still managed to worm it's way into the crevices, locking up the gears every once in a while. Tess' kneecap would go numb sometimes, just as the bottom half of her leg had done.

She'd been paralyzed from the knee down after the attack, and three days following the carnage, Tess had made the decision to cut it off. There was no point keeping a useless leg if she was going to always be on the run. She'd made the decision to build a new, better one at the age of ten, and had cursed her younger self to the pits of a Rancor pit several times since.

Jo stooped down to help her pick up the pieces. Tess didn't say anything.

"Are you all right, Tess?" Jo asked, her voice low, as if she was afraid the question would hurt the girl. She was right. Tess didn't respond, but her eyes seethed with electricity, blue and glistening and dangerous.

Jo looked away.

Once they'd finished finding all the bolts, Tess got up and moved to the other side of the room. Jo stayed put, hugging her arms around her torso, clearly uncomfortable. That was the difference between Jo and Tess (while they had many differences this was the largest of them all): Jo hated silence, and Tess thrived in it.

Because Tess Oprin was heartless.

"The Marshal's worried about you." Jo spoke up after a tense moment. Her voice was as soft as summer sands, as smooth and rich as chocolate. Tess looked up, her brows creased together.

(The children of the town sometimes joked that when Tess grew up she would have a permanent crease between her eyebrows because of how much she frowned)

"The Marshal worries about everyone." Tess replied, busying herself with turning off the laser table that helped her meld steel together.

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Jo said. Tess was satisfied with the answer, but didn't forget to notice the way Jo lingered at the entrance. She turned to her friend --the words left a sour taste in Tess' mouth-- and peered at her expectantly.

Jo didn't look away from Tess' eyes this time, as many people would. They were as coarse as sandpaper and as hardened as steel.

"Tofta's teaching the village kids some combat skill," Jo finally said, her voice hopeful. "You should come. With your metal leg, it could do some serious damage if you learned to swing kick." Tess froze. There were very few words in the galaxy that could make Tess scared.

Fighting and combat were two of them.

Her parents had died fighting, and Tess wasn't about to make the same mistake. Sure, she sometimes wished the raiders would take her out, and yes, there were some days that Tess wanted oblivion more than anything, but Tess was not going to die fighting, she was going either pass on in a cowardly death for a cowardly girl, or in the comfortable confines of her own home, warm in her bed at a ripe old age.

"You know I don't fight, Jo." Tess said.

"I know you don't like to fight," Jo answered. "But with the raiders' attacks becoming more and more frequent, and the dragon destroying the mines, Tofta says it's only a matter of time before the dragon destroys something in the town. We need to learn how to battle."

Tess snorted. "Tofta's a cranky old man with nothing better to do than fill people's head with cautionary tales."

Jo moved closer. "Tess." she said indignantly. Tess raised a warning finger.

"I don't fight." Tess warned.

Jo puffed out her cheeks in frustration and turned to leave. "Fine, Tess, have it your way."

Tess smirked. "I will." this was not the right thing to say, as Jo spun back around and placed her hands on her hips, frowning at Tess. The movements were so unlike Jo that Tess stopped what she was doing and raised an eyebrow.

"Tess, I know that you've been through a lot. I know that you don't really like other people, and I know that whatever I say isn't going to change your mind." Tess crossed her arms. "But despite what the other kids say, I know you do care. Deep down, somewhere, you care about this town and the people and others."

"Then clearly you don't know me at all." Tess said. Jo stiffened, her face falling a little bit that it almost made Tess go to her.

"I guess not." Jo replied. Tess' fists twinged.

"I'm sorry, Jo." Tess said. It wasn't an apology so much as a statement. Tess wasn't sorry for what she said, she was sorry that Jo couldn't see her for who she truly was. Jo didn't say another word, only left the shop in saddened defeat.

Tess turned back to cleaning her shop, already pushing Jo's pained expression to the back of her mind. She busied herself with cleaning the oil off the bolts that had fallen near the bucket she kept for droids to get clean. Sand twirled in the wind outside the open archway. Tess stopped for a moment to look into the flat lands of Tatooine.

It was a place of dunes of fiery red and oceans of the warmest tan. Tatooine was a planet of grime and dirt and criminals, but it was also a place of beauty. It was a planet of rich life, of a barren landscape filled to the brim with odd creatures. The sky was a molten red, the moons like beacons in the ebony night. When Tess felt like it, she would sometimes climb up one of the ridges to watch the moons rise and cascade their ephemeral light across everything. For a planet that endured so much destruction, Tatooine was a place of balance, something Tess valued over everything else.

(It was ironic, really, that a girl with absolutely no balance inside of her would value the idea so much, but thus was the paradoxical nature of Tess Oprin)

It was perhaps that she was so lost in her own thoughts that Tess did not hear the rumbling erupting from beneath the ground. It shook and wobbled, like a snake was slithering beneath the dunes, waiting to pounce. Tatooine was prone to earthquakes, but the people of Mos Pelgo were so attuned to their surroundings that they knew instantly it was not just a shaking of the earth.

It was the serpent waiting to spring.

The conversation with Jo had taken it's toll on Tess. Her stomach twisted violently, and confusion misted over her electrifying eyes. Things Tess had sworn never to feel resurfaced under her skin, bubbling and rumbling. The dark corners of her head clouded everything. One could argue that Tess was the earthquake at that moment.

Only when she heard someone calling her name did Tess snap out of her daze. She turned around, all memory of what she was doing forgotten in the haze. It was then that she felt the ground shift beneath her feet. Her metal leg shook from the intensity, her feet moving without an ounce of grace. In the commotion that had begun outside, Tess danced precariously over the floor, making her way to the front of the shop.

Tess' mechanic workshop was located at the very edge of town, away from the hustle and bustle of the main market square. It sat next to one of the water feeding holes for the Banthas passing by. Every once in a while Tess would scream at the Bantha's to quiet their slurping when she was trying to work or sleep, even if she knew it was her fault for picking where to build.

Tess stumbled near the door, the ground shaking so violently now that her teeth were chattering, and could feel her skull banging against the sides of her head. What was going on?

"Tess!" the voice called again, low and full of emotion. Tess knew that voice, she'd spoken with it hundreds of times. Normally it was muffled by the helmet, trapping the sound like a bee stuck underneath a cup. Tess knew he wasn't wearing his helmet now, as his voice was loud and clear as a summer shower.

The Marshal.

Tess got to the entrance of the door, her features contorted in confusion as the rumbling grew louder. The town was in chaos. Children, women and men all scrambled into their homes, hastily shutting the door as if it would protect them from whatever was coming. Tess knew what the rumbling was then. It dawned on her as clear as crystal. She knew why everyone was running, why the Marshal was calling her name, and she knew why the ground was imploding in on itself as something moved beneath it's grains.

She also knew she had to run, because when she looked the other way, the bantha that had been tethered to the watering hole had moved to shade itself underneath the awning of the shop. Right where Tess was standing.

Tess needed to run. But it was too late.

A Sarlacc bursting from it's hive, the sun emerging from behind the clouds, a figure rising from the mists; all of these thoughts ran through Tess' panic-stricken mind as the head of the Krayt Dragon erupted from beneath the sands. Teeth like sharp knives and skin as rust-colored as clay, the dragon reared it's ugly head, an earsplitting cry breaking Tess' skull from the inside out.

For a moment, Tess didn't move. She was trapped in the entrance to the shop, a colossal monster blocking any exit.

Tess looked into the eyes of death, and she found that she was frightened.

"Tess!" the Marshal called again. The dragon screamed once more and slammed it's teeth over the Bantha, swallowing it whole. The impact shredded half the shop, bringing Tess down with it. She leapt the other way, the ground disappearing beneath her feet. Wooden beams and chunks of hardened stone rained down like meteors. Tess screamed, watching as her livelihood, her everything, was destroyed in seconds. A beam fell several feet away from her, and when she looked up, the awning that had shaded the Bantha swayed violently. If it broke, it would land right on top of Tess, killing her in an instant.

But Tess couldn't move. Her limbs jolted, the ground shook, but Tess felt nothing.

She was numb, her organs contracting and twisting, her head screaming. It was gone, it was destroyed, the one place Tess could act like herself.

"Tess!" The Marshal's voice was closer, and now muffled by his helmet, but Tess could hear nothing else than the ringing in her ears, and a tiny voice screaming it's gone it's gone it's gone. It was all gone.

Tess lost the will to move. She laid in the crumbling building, the ground still shaking beneath her feet, and could do nothing but watch mindlessly as the awning broke free and careened her way. It fell with grace, and Tess held up her hands. Time seemed to slow, her movements laboured and unmotivated. Everything was numb, everything was gone.

A flash of green, a hiss of fire, and Tess was wrenched from the wreckage.

The ground sped up beneath her feet, and soon it was all but gone. She was floating on thin air, strong hands wrapped around her, holding her close. Tess looked up into the helmeted face of the Marshal, he looked towards her, and just like that, they were safe.

The Marshal landed in the sand, stumbling a little and falling beside Tess. She twisted and rolled, grains getting stuck in her leg, but she found she didn't care. The Marshal had landed them outside the bar Tess sometimes went into if she needed a drink.

The Marshal sat up on his knees, pulling his helmet off his face. It revealed a man with an oval face and startling eyes. Grey hair was cut pristinely around his sculpted features, and Tess knew several women around town who thought him the most handsome man in all of Mos Pelgo. Tess knew it was only because there were very few men in the town, but she refrained from telling them. The man looked at Tess, his face stricken.

When he met Tess' eyes, the Marshal's face fell.

Tess knew why. Her facade was breaking, her mask slipping off, and underneath, a storm buzzed to life. She was a volcano waiting to erupt, lightning striking metal. Her insides burned, and Tess Oprin became the monster the town feared.

"No!" she screamed, scrambling onto her shaking legs and running towards her shop. The building was in shambles, past the point of no return. Carnage and destruction which Tess could feel. It was as if her parents had died all over again, as if the blasts had pierced her leg once more. The Marshal grabbed her again and held her back. He knew that if he let her go, Tess would get herself killed.

"No!" Tess screamed. "LET GO OF ME!"

"Tess, it's gone." The Marshal's thick drawl only made Tess angrier. In her rage, Tess found something else to blame.

She looked up into the Marshal's eyes. "YOU DID THIS!"

The Marshal's grip on her loosened. "Tess, calm down."

"You said you would protect us! You said you would protect us all!"

"Tess, calm down!" Tess kicked and screamed and the townspeople hid inside their homes. No one dared venture outside when the heartless girl showed an ounce of emotion. It was unheard of, and it scared them.

She had lost a part of herself, and everyone knew that it was the only good part she had left.

The Marshal wasn't swayed so easily.

"I need a new one!" Tess yelled, placing her hands over the Marshal's around her shoulders. She was calming down now, the storm lessening. It was replaced with exhaustion. Her words lilted and tears --they felt like living sins-- pierced her cheeks.

"I need a new one." Tess whimpered, falling against the Marshal. Her legs gave out from under her, her eyes never leaving her wrecked shop, her heart and soul, gone in an instance. Rage boiled her blood.

"I need a new shop!" Tess said. "Get me a new one."

The Marshal didn't reply, and only said. "Let's go get you a drink." he led the girl into the bar, looking wearily at the new arrival he'd been about to shoot down only minutes before. Tess didn't notice the man when the Marshal first set her into one of the chairs. He went over to the counter and brought back the cleanest water he could find.

She didn't notice how the Mandalorian stared at her, taking in the way she looked like a thunder strike waiting to happen. Only when she'd downed the entire glass of water, the Marshal watching her apprehensively, did Tess look up through her tear-stained eyes.

She didn't know it at the time, but she had locked eyes with the other Mandalorian, and her gaze made him flinch. He'd never met a girl so young who could have eyes that seemed to carry a thousand years of pain.

Something brushed up against the side of Tess' leg, and when she looked down, she almost fell out of her chair. A small, womp-rat looking thing with ears as big as it's head and eyes like large orbs looked back up at her. It was as green as the palm leaves found in the markets, and it's tiny pink mouth curved upwards as Tess looked down at it. The Child smiled and hugged Tess' mechanical leg, resting it's little head on her calf.

The Marshal turned to the Mandalorian. "Maybe we can work something out." 



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AUTHOR'S NOTE. 

Well, there it is! The first chapter of Short Circuit, my new Mandalorian fanfic! What did you guys think? I know it was a long chapter but I really needed to set up Tess' character (she is so cynical and cranky I love her so much) and her meeting the Mandalorian, we'll see a lot more of him in the next chapter. 

In this story Tess has a prosthetic leg, which is something I personally don't know much about. I have done my research into properly writing the ability, but if I have made any mistakes I would really appreciate if you could let me know so I can fix it as soon as possible. 

ALSO, these chapters have only been edited once, so if there are any grammatical or spelling errors it would be really great if you could let me know. 

 Thanks, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter! 

Love, Mal

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