Private Run Around

[Judah Lesan]

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V I G I L A N T E

The briefest glimpse behind the mask that was Madame Hesse was Judah’s reward for the care he had brought. He should not have let his gaze linger for as long as it had, and Malcome likely should not have offered the faint smile. He had, however, and so had she. Her eyes quickly turned to look over her shoulder where her men had been standing, and when she turned to look at Judah he found the Madame staring back at him. Appearances needed to be kept for her men, and Judah was not about to begrudge her that, or get in the way of it.

She explained what was going on. The short version was that Judah did find himself between a dispute between a slaver ring and a brothel. Underneath the surface the issue was much more nuanced. It did not take long for the Jedi Shadow to cut through all the ins and outs of whatever street code was being violated, and by whom, to realize this was a moral issue for Malcome. The girl she had taken in had been mistreated, abused, worse most likely, and she was not going to stand for it.

Judah nodded.

“Right so this is personal, and not just because of the stunt they pulled here.”

Being a natural empath Judah knew he was right. He did not need her to confirm it, nor were his previous words given as a question. Judah was simply calling it as he saw it, a trait that Malcoma would either find annoying or appreciate if they continued to work together.

“And when you went after that warehouse? What was that exactly?”

He motioned to ask if they should head inside to have this conversation. If the blonde could read people as well as her chosen profession would make it seem, then she would see Judah was invested in helping her shut this ring down. He knew that closing one ring rarely made a difference on the galaxy as a whole, but the Jedi in him did not care. Whatever they did would make a difference for the other those creeps had their hands on, and that was good enough for Judah.

A Jedi did not exist to meddle in the affairs of the galaxy, but to right wrong for the individual. Each life mattered, and every difference made mattered. Did all of this stink of a lot of gray area. Sure, he had no idea how Malcome was going to help them. For all he knew she was going to employ the girls at her club. It had to be better than what voice in the car was doing though, right?

“For what it’s worth. I don’t think you should wait for him to try again. We should hit him now, before he has any time to come up with another plan.”​

Malcoma Hesse​

 

[Malcoma Hesse]

Judah Lesan

Malcoma could in fact read people just that well. She didn't even need the Force, just a few decades of slavery and street living. She looped an arm around Judah's and began leading him inside, altogether more calmly this time. The Family goons would report this to the Donna one way or another, she assumed—the robes and saber gave his occupation away like loose lips—so she might as well lean into it.

"Lomya didn't even really remember where she had been," she began to explain when they were back in the club. "But what she did was enough to get Damris on the scent. Only thing was, it wasn't all that strong. When I said I'd been tracking this ring for months? Well, most of them we'd been chasing our tails." They came to the hallway door. Malcoma let go of Judah's arm and lingered a few steps behind. Her brow furrowed as memory struck her. "Until..."

Whenever Malcoma trailed off, it was rarely because she didn't know how to finish a sentence. Her vocabulary was extensive, her information web was rarely lacking in any department that concerned her. She simply did not want to face this one truth.

But Judah deserved to know. He had saved Eden. He had saved her, all the while risking himself. Telling him was only fair, and Malcoma was nothing if not that.

"...she remembered a location." That location.

She leveled her gaze at him. If he moved to enter the back hall, she would reach out to grab, and hopefully stop, him. In any case, her eyes widened just so. "Judah... She's not—you haven't seen—there must be some kind of reasonable explanation."

 

[Judah Lesan]

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V I G I L A N T E

Judah linked arms with the blonde when Malcoma slid her arm in with his. They walked back toward the club side by side, which was likely an odd scene for any looking on. Was a Jedi really walking inside with a known Madame. Clearly everyone who saw what was going on knew who she was even if they didn't know Judah. It was best if they did not get a name, but someone would eventually. He listened as she explained what had happened.

The smell of gardenia's wafted up toward Judah's nose as the pair passed through the entrance. He smirked a bit as an errant thought played at his mind. She did smell nice, almost intoxicating. He sighed as it seemed the trauma this Lomya had experienced was more than he wanted to imagine, and yet, there was a reason he knew he needed to pay attention. It was definitely personal, more than Judah could have known.

He'd been moving, almost losing track of the fact she'd let go. He assumed they were heading back to her office, but when it was clear they were in a spot where it was just the two of them, Malcoma stopped him. Her eyes pleaded with him to stop, and her words became frantic. Lomya and Malcoma were connected more than she was letting on. Suddenly it was beginning to feel personal to him. He had had an adopted daughter, and the idea of what anyone had done to Lomya and possibly Malcoma set the Jedi on fire.

She needed him to be calm. Judah breathed in and let it out slowly as his arms wrapped her into his embrace.

"Hey… it's okay. You can't say anything that's gonna send me running, and if you're scared that's okay too. I get paid to deal with the things that go bump in the night. If you don't want to say it… think it. Then it will be our secret. No one else has to know."

Should he have offered that? Judah wasn't sure. It felt right in the moment, so that's what he ran with. He was always doing what he thought was right even if it came with consequences that were hard to manage.​

Malcoma Hesse​

 

[Malcoma Hesse]

Judah Lesan

Hugging her was like hugging a duracrete wall. Settling shock froze all of her limbs in place. Lomya had sworn there was only three guards, leading Malcoma to convince Damris that she could handle them herself easily. But there had been two more and she had quickly lost her element of surprise after sneaking in.

In hindsight, the two watchmen might as well have just left the front door wide open and ushered her inside.

Under normal circumstances, she would not have let a Jedi into her mind so readily, but today was anything but normal. And if she didn't want to admit this to herself, there was no way she was willing to say it aloud for anyone else to hear.

I think Lomya... Malcoma started to think. The verbal speed bump came again. She closed her eyes and tried to overcome it. ...sold me out.

 

[Judah Lesan]

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V I G I L A N T E

There it was, what the frantic words had been trying to say. Judah released the blonde from the hug and looked her in the eye. Judah wondered if there was any part of it which was true, or if it had been a coincidence. Judah had learned no longer to believe in coincidences. That did not mean the girl set her up. There were many reasons why she could have remembered that location. It was his job to exhaust those before doing anything.

“How long did you say she was here? In all that time she said nothing until she remembered one specific location?”

Judah reached for his beard. The backs of the synthetic fingernails on his synthflesh covered cybernetic ran along the graying whiskers of his chin. He was deep in thought, trying to figure out if he was going to try and sus it out, or take the easy way out. He was going to need Malcoma’s help in making the decision.

“She could have truly been that traumatized. It is not unheard of for individuals to have a break like that, and well… if you have any reason to believe the trauma, then you need to give her the benefit of the doubt here. Then again… it was very specific. There is a way to find out… I mean I have options, but if there is any chance any of this trauma is real, it could not go well for her.”

Did he want to do it? No. Did he want to shut down the slave ring that had been targeting women all over Coruscant? Even more so.

“Another option, we look into that later and we just go after these guys before they can hit you again.”

Judah locked eyes with Malcoma.

“Look love, I’m not going to lie to you, it's a tough call, but this is your call.”​

Malcoma Hesse​

 

[Malcoma Hesse]

Judah Lesan

Denial turned to anger as he let her go. She didn't try to hide its choppy storm rolling over her blue eyes. Still—

“...Then again… it was very specific. There is a way to find out… I mean I have options, but if there is any chance any of this trauma is real, it could not go well for her.”

"No." She was emphatic as she was livid, only who she was mad at would be unclear to even an adept empath. It didn't seem like she was a woman to give anyone the benefit of the doubt, even one of her own, but she was also exercising some restraint in the whole matter.

It was like she was protecting Lomya from herself, at least for the time being.

And it might be starting to become even clearer that the Twi'lek girl was not the only traumatized one. This particular Hapan woman was simply in a better place to manage it.

"Let's find these fethers."

 

[Judah Lesan]

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V I G I L A N T E

Judah nodded.

He did not like the option of messing with the twi'lek any more than Malcoma did. It was one thing to know it would not be entirely safe, and another to be the one causing it. He did not like tearing into someone's mind if he could avoid it. The best decision, as far as Judah was concerned, was to go after the thugs that caused it all. Malcoma seemed to agree.

"Now you're talking," Judah said with a grin as he looked further down the hall toward the exit. "I imagine you have an idea of where we can find them?"

If she didn't, then Judah was going to have to show off more of his skill. He had locked onto the men, and picked out their aura. Judah would remember it like a bloodhound tracking a criminal's scent.

"Ready whenever you are."​

Malcoma Hesse​

 

[Malcoma Hesse]

Judah Lesan

"I only knew that one place," admitted the madam. "And I doubt they just went back. Plus, if their stock was never there, they must have at least one more location." She waved her hand from Judah to the exit. She suspected correctly that he had a trick up his sleeve. "Work your Jedi magic. I'll follow."

Back in the alleyway, Judah made his way over the his bike. As he started it up, Malcoma climbed onto the back and slipped one arm through his and over his shoulder. She stayed quiet though, not in the mood to make dirty jokes. In fact, the ride to where ever he sensed the slavers went was silent excepting the perpetual wizz of hover traffic. The moment Judah touch down, she dismounted, walked a few paces, and gave her head a shake to calm the tousle of her hair.

"This it then?" she asked, but didn't wait for his answer to pull Kandra out from under her leather jacket. Her gaze shifted to scan the surrounding rooftops. She did not turn back towards Judah before following-up, "You got another one of those fancy jumps in you?"

 

[Judah Lesan]

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V I G I L A N T E

It was a quiet ride. Judah may have been a flirt and a tease, but he also knew when to lay off. There was something about the mood she was exuding, one of a more serious nature which kept telling Judah that there would be time for his sense of humor later. Also, there was something about this particular mission, this certain encounter, which was dripping with the feeling of destiny. Oh the Jedi did not believe the force determined one’s destiny, but Judah sensed there was more to this than shutting down a local ring.

When Malcoma hopped off the bike, Judah looked at the weapon she pulled out.

“Interesting… compact… I like it.”

There was something about the look on her face that told Judah she was serious about using it. He hoped it would not come to it, but the Jedi was not going to stop her if it did. The Shadow knew where the line was, and he often found himself getting close to it, but he would never cross it.

“Do I have another one of those jumps…” Judah reached out hand, pulling her close when she decided to take it. “Just like last time sweetheart… hold on.”

Pushing the force to his legs, Judah let himself go. It was quick. Feet landed on the roof as light as air. Catching their descent Judah ensured it was quiet. If they did not want to get caught snooping around quite yet they needed to stay in the shadows. Looking over to Malcoma, it was clear she would rather jump right in.

He closed his eyes and placed his hand on the glass. A smirk pulled at his face as he came to one conclusion.

“This is their headquarters… Three levels down…”

Judah’s smirk disappeared.

“They have the slaves.”

A touch of his finger to the glass and a ripple of force energy later, an opening appeared in the roof. Normally he would have some kind of cheesy line about ladies first, but Judah wanted this guy as badly as Malcoma. He didn’t wait before wrapping Malcoma around the waist one more time and leaping through the roof.

“Let’s get these nerf-herders.”​

Malcoma Hesse​

 

[Malcoma Hesse]

Judah Lesan

The price of interesting and compact afforded Malcoma a measly two shots, either blast or stun. Both packed a mean punch, but sometimes quality was better than quantity, even with aim like hers. Though she didn't say so aloud, she hoped that Judah would not aggro the whole ring at once. She had other weapons on her person of course, but she would prefer not to chip away her manicure by fighting hand-to-hand with her nail extensions.

When he had leapt through the roof, before stepping away, she presses her free hand against his chest. Her eyes found his. Raw concern stood out on her blue irises like a contrasting color. "Let me get to the slaves first," she said. Her voice was soft, even, but she wasn't asking for permission. "They'll prefer seeing a woman. Trust me."

Something might tell the empathic Shadow that she knew that all to well.

She moved out of his reach and towards a corridor leading out of the empty, attic-like room they had jumped into. She slid her back against the wall and peered around the corner down the darkened way. Judah could do the same checks with the Force she presumed, but there was something to be said about old habits and how they died hard. Malcoma squinted, then let up on her brow. "Come on. Elevator's dead ahead."

 

[Judah Lesan]

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V I G I L A N T E

Malcoma wanted to get to the slaves first.

Judah nodded.

There seemed to be a personal reason she made that request. Yes, Judah was aware that seeing a Jedi bust into the room was not the most comforting of sights, but it was more than that. Malcoma actually cared. For someone that gave off a certain attitude, there was a softer side to the woman that Judah was getting a glimpse of.

“I’ll find Mr. Voice from the Speeder then…”

He rounded the corner when Malcoma gave the go ahead. It was a clear shot to the turbolift, where the pair took it to the floor they needed. Everything seemed a little too easy up to this point, but Judah did not think Malcoma would care about that. It did make Judah wonder if they were walking into another trap. He could be cautious for them both.

The lift stopped, and before the door could open, Judah grabbed Malcoma’s arm.

“Be careful huh? You could be walking into a trap.”

He almost kissed her. The moment was reminiscent of times when he would take his late wife on missions. While Malcoma was not Katara, there was a little bit of her spark and spunk. When the door opened Judah smirked.

“Looks like this is where we part ways. You get the girls… I’ll deal with the goons.”​

Malcoma Hesse​