Tracking a Turncoat [Winter/Kilia]

[tenkalus]

“Hey Dolman, you gonna go see that fancy tart from the club again tonight?”

“Yeah maybe,” Winter replied nonchalantly with a smirk on his face as he glanced at his walking companion, “Why? You gonna take another run at her?” he chuckled darkly. “I don’t think she’s your type.”

“Dolman”, was actually Winter Lockhaert, and the so-called “fancy tart” was a criminal informant (CI for short) named Candice Remar that Winter had coerced into feeding him information on the mooks and muscle of the Red Blast crew, of which he had infiltrated four weeks earlier on suspicion that the gang had been trafficking both people and artifacts that the Jedi would find interesting.

Candice had been easy for him to target. Hers was the standard tragic story. Bright rising star cut short by lack of credits and a host of daddy issues, leading inevitably to indentured servitude of mostly selling herself, to pay debts. Winter had offered her a way out in exchange for information. With the charming nature he’d been granted at birth and a slight application of the Force to convince her of his good intent, Candice had been a ready made accomplice. For a month he had been gathering evidence to bring the Red Blasters to justice, but then he’d suddenly gotten word that he would be investigating the disappearance of a fellow Jedi and old friend.

One, Kilia Tharen.

According to the council brief he’d picked up at his dead drop, Kilia had been dispatched to track some artifact or another, and had gone missing a week prior. The last communication the Jedi had received from her was that she was closing on a potential holocron that had been stolen and transported from the Jedi enclave on Corellia, and that she suspected the Red Blast crew to be involved.

It was unusual for the Red Blasters to get involved in this kind of thing. Trafficking slaves and goods, yes. But capturing Jedi? This wasn’t their usual MO. There was something happening in the infrastructure of the Red Blast that concerned him. Some kind of power struggle behind the curtain.

Candice had told him the night prior that the bosses were arguing at a party recently, about some sort of captive being held at a warehouse they owned by the docks. According to Candice, the two bosses couldn’t decide whether to kill the “special” captive or to try and ransom them. Winter had taken the information in, and asked questions with his eyes on the floor at the time.

Sometimes, information gathering was fun for Winter. But others, it hurt his soul. The only way he could viably get Candice alone to talk, was to show up at the strip club she worked, and request a private lap dance. On the outside, it just looked like a new gang member getting sweet on some of the goods. A repeat customer, as it were. And appearances had to be maintained for that story to work. So she would go through her routine and dance tantalizingly around him while she whispered to him new intel that she’d overheard or seen. It was the contact that bothered Winter. He wished he could just have a locked room with no cameras so he could simply talk to the poor girl. She was far from unattractive, and the primal part of his spirit liked seeing her work. But he always firmly reminded himself of why she was there in the first place.

Candice was exploited, she was a slave in all but name. He knew if she refused to remove her clothes for clients, the Red Blasters would probably kill her.

The worst part was that Winter knew that he had offered her a spark of hope. And that spark alone was enough for Candice to have taking a shine to him. His senses told him that she liked him, and not because he had promised to free her, but because he had offered her kindness. Something different than what she was used to with the normal grabby customers. That, she said, and he always looked her in the eye or not at all.

The girl had delusions of them being together when she was free. But Winter knew it was just that. He knew he was using her too, and that made him just as bad as the mooks who kept her under thumb. The difference was that he was going to back up what he promised. He’d stake his life on his word, and he’d promised to get her out and help her start over.

He’d even found out that she’d originally wanted to be an actress, or a ballet dancer. Winter hadn’t lied to her when he’d kindly replied she had enormous talent and could be whatever she wished if she wanted it hard enough. She had skills with her body, he was just sad to see them go to waste in a strip club.

All to say, it didn’t take a special investigator like Winter to figure out she had a bright future ahead of her, as long as she could get out whole.

The information she’d passed to him was good as well. He’d been able to narrow down approximately where Kilia was being held. The very place he was now headed with his rather large, meathead of a partner.

As they entered the compound, Winter flicked his eyes around casually, noting where the security cams were and what they were tied to. He’d have to do some research before springing his old friend from bondage. He couldn’t be in two places at once, and if he were discovered here as a traitor, Candice would be put in needless danger at the club before he could get there.

“Hey I need to hit the head.” He said to his partner.

The man frowned. “We aint suppose ta separate, Dolman. Go everywherez he does, boss said. Its how it works with the new bloods, ya know.”

Winter frowned and jerked a thumb over his shoulder to a hallway that allegedly lead to a refresher station, “Messir, I gotta piss before the shift starts, you wanna come hold it for me? Gimme a second will ya?”

“I aint touchen nuthin!” The larger man said with a guffaw. “Well go on den, I’ll meet you in the back room. Don’t forget to grab our blasters from the cabinet on your way back. Gotta check them out proper!”

“Right! Right, the blasters! Lemme see to that, I’ll meet you down there.”

Winter gave a half hearted finger salute and sulked off. If there was one thing he could give the Red Blast crew, it was that their bosses had them organized. Cops hadn’t picked up their known members on the street because no one carried weapons on them. All the shady business happened behind lock and key. It was almost paramilitary in nature, very disciplined where it had to be. But they didn’t employ all the brightest stars in the galaxy, as evidenced by Messir.

He passed a security station manned by three men and he waved to them as he went. Right past the refresher he went and down to the armory. He was effectively in a warehouse where slaves were stored before transport and sale. But to keep slave rebellions to a minimum, the Red Blasters would keep their munitions and contraband locked up and under guard.

“Gotta sign out a couple blasters for me’n Messir.” he said to the guard there. He was waved in and he took a look around. The weapon locker was directly in front of him and he noticed a familiar cylinder thrown haphazardly in the bottom cabinet of it. With a quick touch of the grip, the Force spoke to him, bringing him an image in his mind of an equally familiar redhead.

Oh it was Kilia’s alright.

Very discreetly he slipped the saber into his inner jacket and walked back out. “Hey! Aint cha gonna sign-”

“You don’t need me to sign for any blasters,” Winter said, dragging his fingers through the air in front of him. “Everything seems to be in order.”

“You know what? You don’t need to sign for any blasters. Everything seems to be in order.” The guard repeated dutifully and returned to leaning on the wall.

“Say mack, where’s the master power breaker located?” Winter asked as he passed by.

“Down the hall on your left.” Came the reply, still holding on to the edges of the influence he’d been given.

Winter strode right to the breaker and shut it down. Immediately the lights shut off and shouts began to sound. He called out down the hallway to the guard station.

“The Jedi! The Jedi got free! Oh gods she’s killing EVERYONE! RUN FOR YOUR LIVESSSS!!”

Then he just hummed to himself and walked back out to the front door, passing a very empty guard station on the way. When he was outside he pulled out a pack of cigarillo’s and lit one up, leaning on the outside wall like he was on a smoke break. A moment later the sounds of chaos reached the front door and exploded outward as slaves ran in all directions. He waited a minute until he spotted a flash of red hair running out. He quickly waved to draw attention, and removed his borrowed lightsaber, holding it up for inspection.

“Hey Ily, been a while.” he said with a genuine smile through his teeth and around his cigarillo. “How ya been?” he asked as if they had just bumped into each other walking in opposite directions on the street.

[Rabbit]

It had started off routine enough - so routine that Kilia almost thought the mission was going to be boring. Go home to Corellia. Track down a Dark holocron that had gone missing from the Enclave. Track down said holocron. Bring holocron back. End of mission.

Somewhere along the way, though, things had taken a bit of a wrong turn. In retrospect, the mission had probably gone wrong right around the time that Kilia had made the mistake of underestimating the Red Blast gang. She'd been investigating the Coronet City warehouse that she'd tracked the stolen holocron to, when she'd found herself out-gunned by a group of Red Blast members that weren't keen on being parted with what could very well be their greatest cash earner in the entire history of their organization.

Honestly, she'd been quite surprised to find the Red Blasts involved in the heist. They were better known for small-time slavery, prostitution, and arms dealing. As far as she knew, they hadn't gained any traction off-world...or out of Coronet City, for that matter. They were a third-rate criminal organization at best, and the fact that they'd stolen a Dark artifact out of the Green Jedi Enclave lead her to suspect that the Blasts were just a front for someone else much stronger and far more influential.

It was that mindset, however, that had lulled her into going into their warehouse without all sense on full alert. As a result, the Blasts had gotten the drop on her, which was how her investigation wound up taking a week-long detour. The young and recently Knighted Sentinel had started to think the "detour" would take even longer, when a perfect opportunity presented itself:

She'd been sitting her make-shift cell with a Force-dampening collar around her neck, wondering how in the Nine Corellian Hells she was going to get herself out of this one...when she was plunged into absolute darkness. At first, there was complete silence...but as the seconds dragged on, a small whisper turned into a whimper turned into a roar, as pandemonium broke out beyond the walls of her shipping container-turned-cage. As luck - or, more likely, the Force - would have it, the container door was ajar beyond the stooping silhouette of one of her captors, who had been tasked with bringing her her twice-daily ration of stale bread and water.

A swift kick in between the man's legs later, Kilia was sprinting as fast as she could through a crowd of panicked slaves and flabbergasted Blasts. She'd been afraid, at first, that she wouldn't be able to find her way out, but she just followed the mass exodus and sure enough, she found herself in the middle of freedom, fresh air, and blinding sunlight. It took a few precious seconds for her eyes to adjust and in that time, a familiar voice made her squeak and jump.

“Hey Ily, been a while.”

Kilia's eyes adjusted to the sight of a dark-haired man waving her lighsaber hilt at her. Her forest green eyes snapped first to the heirloom hilt and only then to the man in question. At first, she couldn't place him and she spent several dumb-founded seconds trying to figure out who he was and how he knew her well enough to call her by nickname.

Then it hit her like a rampaging rancor...

"Winter?" she sputtered, incredulous.

She could feel her freckled cheeks warming ever so slightly as she marched up to him and snatched her lightsaber out of his hand. The young Knight also fought the urge to look her fellow Jedi up and down - in surprise, granted, but she didn't want it to come across as leering. She'd had enough of that being done to her in the last week to last her a lifetime, and she could spend a lifetime of never being accused of doing it herself.

All the same...

"Damn," she whistled as she started making her way in the direction opposite the panicked stream of Blasts, slaves, and associates that were still tumbling out of the warehouse behind them.

She didn't even glance to see if he was following her. Kilia had once known Winter quite well - they'd been on a number of missions together as padawans, though the most recent one was almost seven years back - and she knew he'd fall into step with her soon enough.

Sure enough, he did, and she glanced up to the side and up, a wry smile tugging her lips upward.

"You sure have grown, Lockhaert. What's the Order been feeding you these days, eh?"

[tenkalus]

Winter offered no resistance as Kilia snatched up her weapon from his grip. And try as she might, he still caught the linger gaze on his person. He’d been trained to notice details after all, and to read body language to better understand situations unfolding before him.

Still, he couldn’t blame her. It had been the better part of 7 years since they had been close enough to chat in person. That amount of personal growth could be devastating to the senses if taken in all at once. It was a shock to the system, as your brain tried to reconcile what it believed to be true, with what was actually right in front of it. The truth was, both of them had grown significantly in the years spent apart.

He smirked slightly and kicked off the wall he’d been leaning on, flicking his cigarillo out to the side and falling into step beside her. The question about what the temple was feeding him amused him greatly, but he wiped his grin off his face and answered seriously. “Oh, just steroids and growth supplements. The usual.” He offered in a very matter of fact tone.

“Oh, here. One second.” He recalled and reached out for the dampening collar around her neck. “Not sure where these mooks got tech like this, but I intend to have a very serious conversation with their boss about borrowing toys they ought not play with.”

He laid his fingertips on the collar and let the Force bring to him a recent history of the device. Psychometry was useful in a whole mess of different ways. It could potentially show him other slaves that had worn the collar, or even offer a vague sense of where they had been while wearing it. But in this instance, he zipped through the object’s physical memories until he saw a finger dancing across the code lock around the back of the collar. With his eyes still closed, Winter mimicked the pattern and opened his eyes again when they were rewarded with a beep and a click.

“Therreee we go.” he whispered as he slid the collar off of Kilia’s neck. “That’s more comfortable, huh?”

Winter paused at the side of the speeder he’d piloted to the warehouse with his dullard of a partner and tossed the collar in the back casually. Evidence for later.

“Look, Illy. I’d love to drop you off someplace quiet and safe so you can get cleaned up before heading back out but I’m afraid that freeing you, while necessary, may have put other people in danger. I hope you don’t mind taking a little detour on the way to the fresher. I have a CI at a club in the city that put me on your trail. I need to get her safe before making an arrest. It’s a good thing I found you too. I might need the backup.”

He jerked his thumb to the passenger seat, indicating that Kilia could ride with him. When she was properly seated he offered a casual glance at her and said, “And you may want to buckle up. I’m in a bit of a hurry…”

Without another word he slammed the throttle forward and was instantly pressed into the back of his seat as the speeder lurched forward.

He kept his gaze focused on the road as they zoomed off toward the center of the city. “I hope they didn’t try anything too bad with you Kilia, I’m sorry it took so long to get to you.” he called above the wind whipping around them in the open topped speeder. “It’s almost genius the way they’ve run this gang you know? Boss Prazzo is smart. He surrounds himself with loyal idiots. Keeps their intellect low, their wallets full and their balls empty. It’s the kind of template that the big time crooks employ, only they missed the part about hiring folks with single digit IQ’s. I’ve been undercover with them for about a month and have risen steadily because I showed initiative. Though I had the feeling I wasn’t getting any further than where I’m at now. All the guys I passed up were totally content with their lot. Prazzo keeps company with people dumber than himself.” he explained as they shot on. ”People who trust him like a father because he takes care of them and their interests.”

He dialed the throttle back a hair as he took a sharp corner and accelerated through it, heading into a seedier side of town. “Thing is, as smart as he is, I haven’t uncovered any evidence to support that he’s actually the smartest guy in the bunch. My interactions with him have been less than convincing that he’s the one coming up with the rules. And the only other person I can find close to him is his Lieutenant. But even Jaxo seems like only slightly less of a meathead than the rest of them. What all did you find out about them before you got pinched?”

[Rabbit]

When in the galaxy did he get so...chatty? Kilia asked herself as Winter kept going...and going...and going...

She wasn't able to get a word in edgewise. Not that she really tried, though. Running into Winter felt quite a bit like being caught up in a Tatooine wind storm and her head threatened to spin with the way the moments seemed to fly by her.

Of course, that could have had something to do with the speed Winter chose to drive his speeder at... Kilia found herself gripping the edges of her seat as her companion practically laid the speed pedal to the floor. For a few heart-pounding seconds, she could breath, as the wind rushing into her face nearly stole her ability to do so. And Winter kept chattering along.

As a result, she missed a lot of what he was shouting at her, but after a few disorienting seconds, Kilia was finally able to tune back into her friend and his ever-constant dialogue. Which, for the record, was not how she remembered Winter. He'd been a rather quiet Padawan back in the day - she had been the blabbermouth, in fact.

Funny how we change as we grow older, her lips lifted up in a bemused little smile, as she glanced sideways at him.

Winter finally stopped his flow of one-sided conversation with a question directed at her - a question that she thankfully caught, what with the wind rushing in her ears, her own internal dialogue, and her not-too-subtle attempts to take stock of him both visually and through the Force.

Winter Lockhaert, as it turned out, was quite a lot to take in as an adult. In quite a number of ways.

"Okay, motormouth," Kilia cheerfully shouted back at him - she was finding it hard to keep a smile from her face, in spite of the circumstances he'd abruptly rescued her from not twenty minutes earlier. "You're throwing a lot at me, so let's back up a minute."

She reached up and flattened her hands against the side of her head, in an attempt to keep her long red hair from flying into her mouth while she tried to speak. The majority of her hair was tied back in a tight braid...but there wasn't a tight enough braid in all the galaxy that could withstand the speeds Winter was driving at, at least not in an open-cab speeder. The longer they flew along, the more of her hair was unraveling into an unruly mess.

Oddly enough, Kilia didn't mind...so long as she could get her hands on a tie-back within the foreseeable future.

"One, thanks for getting that thrice-damned collar off of me. I was getting tired of the stupid thing zapping me every time I had a thought," she wrinkled her nose in expressive distaste. "I'd forgotten about the psychometry, by the way - always thought that was cool."

She didn't add that she'd often wished for some sort of unusual and unique Force Skill like that for herself. Even Jedi padawans weren't above the occasional spat of juvenile envy...especially when said padawan was of the opinion that her own Force powers were decidedly mundane.

"Second, I'm a Sentinel, Winter, not a Hapan princess. I think I'll be just fine if I don't see a fresher for a few more hours. There were some women in the Red Blasts...I was allowed to bathe," she paused and tilted her head to the side as she looked off into the distance thoughtfully. "After a fashion, I guess you could say."

The young Knight huffed a short little laugh, before continuing.

"And no, they didn't rough me up or anything. Seemed afraid of me, more than anything else. Even slapping a Force collar on me didn't seem to embolden most of them," Kilia flashed Winter a winsome smile that made her eyes sparkle mischievously. "Probably had something to do with the way I bit one of the goons when they tried something I didn't like. Though," she sobered quickly. "To be honest, I don't think the Red Blasts work that way. They couldn't decide what to do with me - hold me for ransom or sell me to someone. They're not a big enough organization to get away with harming a hostage or a potential sell, so I guess that played that in my favor."

Kilia was quiet for a minute or two as she turned her head away from Winter and squinted out at the buildings flashing by them. She didn't recognize the district they were in, but it was clearly one of the seedier parts of Coronet City...and she didn't mention that she found it odd that killing her hadn't seemed to be on the Red Blasts' agenda in any way. Winter would probably pick up on that, anyway, and it was a fact that had caused Kilia some small amount of concern in the last few days.

"As for what I've found out about them?" she turned back to her childhood acquaintance (she didn't think they were ever close enough to call "friends") and shrugged. "At this point, it sounds like you know a hell of a lot more than me. I have to confess that I really underestimated the Red Blasts," Kilia's expression turned wry as Winter finally eased back on the speed and their vehicle began to slow down. "I was focused more on the holocron I was tracking, than on the ones responsible for its theft. A padawan's mistake, I know."

She winced a bit at the admission. This was only her third mission as a fully-fledged member of the Order - it hadn't even been a full year since her Knighting. Still...she should have known better than to have jumped into the chase with less than full knowledge of what she was going up against. A mistake she wouldn't be making in the future...she knew she was lucky it had been the Red Blasts she'd underestimated, and not a bigger syndicate or organization. Her time in captivity would have been a lot harder for her, if she had - of that she was certain. And Kilia had no intention of ever finding out first hand what sort of unpleasantness, or down-right horror, she had so narrowly avoided.

"I will admit," she lowered her voice as the wind was no longer a reliable source of cover for their conversation; Winter had finally parked the speeder in a side-alley next to what she was pretty sure was a nightclub of ill repute.

She was old enough and had enough life experience by now, to not be surprised. However, the young Corellian couldn't help lifting a single red eyebrow at Winter, all the same.

"I'm sort of thinking the same as you. I think there's someone, or something, behind the Red Blasts, pulling their strings. They're just convenient goons."

And I really hope it's not a Sith, she didn't add.

Unfortunately, when it came to Dark Artifacts and Holocrons, Kilia had found there was, always - some way, some how - at least one Sith involved.

If they were lucky.

Usually...where there was one, there were more.

[tenkalus]

Motor mouth, huh? The comment had drawn a playful and conceding grin from Winter as he drove, never taking his eyes off the road in front of him.

It was true that earlier in his life, he had been an exceptionally quiet apprentice. It was a large part of the reason he had been chosen to become an investigator. As a quiet boy, Winter had observed all around him. He stayed in the back of the room to look over other Jedi and their mannerisms during lectures. He saw how they responded and who they spoke to or when they became upset or more curious. He learned his lessons well, though those lessons were rarely the ones being taught at the front of the class.

He was a silent watcher, soaking in information about people and objects. Many a time, his aloof nature had cost him the loyalty of those he considered friends, as they often thought he was spying on them. In reality, Winter had only been trying to get information about them, to better protect them from their own weaknesses. But it was a rare thing for such a mentality to be understood by another individual of differing mind.

Kilia had been someone from his childhood that he had both admired and respected. And perhaps a time or two, found himself staring after her for very different reasons. Jedi robes were less than flattering to the shape of the body, but then, Winter turned out to be an analyst of the top order. Such things did not come without an active imagination.

Such were the thoughts of a youth, however. It had taken years of training and patience for Winters’ eventual master to finally begin to dredge out his potential. Where as a child, he was stoically quiet, as an adult Winter Lockhaert had become something of a smooth talker in the presence of criminals or people who he needed information from.

Unfortunately, that was the training that took hold of him and not his default personality. It turned out that when he wasn’t trying to get information from someone, he kind of just dumped all of what he knew on a person.

Maybe he just felt more comfortable with Kilia around. It was entirely feasible, as she was a fellow Jedi and something of an investigator herself in her own way. Hell, for the past month he’d been undercover so far that he couldn’t even contact local authorities to give them updates on his progress. He had had only minor interactions with the council to give progress reports as well, and on one of those ten minute reports, he’d learned about Kilia.

It was just nice to be able to talk to someone after being under wraps for so long, and a familiar face added to that.

And what a face it had turned out to be, as well. 7 years had done Kilia Tharen some favors in the looks department.

They’d never been thick as thieves, per se. But Winter had always liked her as a person. Kilia had her own group of friends at the temple when she trained there, as well as here on Corellia as well, he was sure. He’d simply used her nickname at the warehouse to catch her attention and put her mind at ease from a potentially unfamiliar face. It was probably the first time the name had left his lips.

But Winter quickly put that behind him. He was dwelling too much on the past and not enough on the present. They were adults now, both of them Jedi Knights. Even if she was a recent addition to those ranks, Kilia had earned her place there.

“Don’t worry about making mistakes, Kilia.” he said as he shut down the speeder and rubbed his chin thoughtfully as his gaze took in the club a couple hundred feet away. How was he going to play this? "We learn from every one of them. It's how we grow." he offered soothingly.

He could go in guns blazing so to speak, but that might get people hurt inside before he could get between them and the gangsters.

With a shake of his head, he ran a hand through his hair. “Whoever the puppet master is, they don’t usually make direct contact from what I’ve seen. I wish we had more time on this, to figure out who was above Prazza, but if we don’t nail these guys right now everyone potentially gets away.”

He looked over at Kilia and smiled, “Looks like we get to work together. You help me arrest Prazza, and I’ll help you find your holocron. Deal?”

[Rabbit]

Kilia grinned conspiratorially at Winter; she didn't even need to think about the answer to his offer.

It was quite obvious. He almost didn't have to ask.

"It's a deal."

She took a deep breath then, and eyed the side of the shabby, one-story building they were still standing next to.

"Well...not that I can say that I've frequented very many nightclubs in my day," her green eyes glanced over at Winter, their expression mischievous. "But, usually, these sorts of establishments have at least two exits, if not more. One in the front, one in the back."

She figured he'd correct her if there were more than two. She knew enough about Winter to know that he was one of the Order's best up-and-coming analyst-types. He was good at what he did and had always been that way, for as long as she could remember.

Thing was, she wasn't terribly unobservant herself. For example, she'd seen Winter trying to size her up once or twice in their youth. At the time, she hadn't really understood the mixture of curiosity, intensity, and contemplation that she'd seen on his face those couple of times she'd caught him staring at her...in a different way than he normally did, or than he did to others. But now, as an adult...well, she'd caught that same look on his face at least once in the time that their paths had crossed in the last hour. She was definitely old enough to know what that was all about, for sure.

Kilia wasn't sure if that amused her, concerned her, or confused her. At the very least, she could settle for "intrigued". An hour back in his company and already Kilia could tell that he'd grown up to be a different sort of Jedi than most. Then again, she wasn't one to judge. The Green Jedi were, by and large, considered "different" to the Main Order - contrary on too many occasions, opinionated, and too attached to their Corellian identities. It had never bothered her much, knowing that most of the mainstream Jedi she encountered didn't know how to interact with her. At least Winter didn't seem to have developed a prejudice against the Green Jedi in the years since they'd last met.

Then again...given the sly way he'd looked at her out of the corner of his eye, it might just be her he didn't harbor a prejudice against...

Something for her to poke at later, for sure - his stance on Corellian Jedi, that was. Not his opinion of her, specifically. Kilia felt the top of her cheeks warm ever so slightly at the thought and...nope. Time to focus on the task at hand.

"Seeing as this is your part of the bargain," she began to walk backwards away from him and the speeder and she jerked a thumb over her shoulder toward the alleyway shadows. "I'll take the back and meet ya' in the middle."

With that, Kilia turned and walked briskly toward the back of the alleyway. Sure enough, there was a side door that opened out to the narrow street. She glanced up toward the front of the nightclub, but Winter was already around the front corner and out of sight. Kilia took a deep breath and tried the panel button to the left of the door; it whooshed quietly to the side and she couldn't help a grin as she stepped into what appeared to be a back storage room.

She loved doors that opened without a fuss...

[tenkalus]

Winter couldn’t help but watch Kilia go. She was an interesting woman on the worst of days. It just happened that he had been interested in seeing her style in action ever since they were are the temple together. As a Corellian Jedi, should could be a bit unorthodox in her methods, and Winter was most eager to see what that looked like in practice.

Right now though, he needed his head in the game. He reached down into the center console of the speeder and opened the compartment as Kilia walked off to cover the rear of the building. Inside, he snatched up his lightsaber and credentials as an investigator. They’d been well hidden in his rental apartment as he was going through his initiation phase in the organization. Either of those clearly identifying marks would have earned him a swift death or a fast close to his case with nothing to show for it.

But he was about to blow his cover anyway, so now it seemed silly not to carry protection on him. The lightsaber was a physical defense, whereas the badge could be a metal deterrent if used in the right scenario. This may be the exact situation to use it.

As soon as he was strapped up and ready to go, Winter pulled his comlink out and dialed up the emergency frequency for the area.

“Corellian Security, please state your emergency.”

“This is Jedi Knight, Winter Lockhaert.” he said calmly, eyeing the doorman to the club across the street, “Please put me through to Lieutenant Jaxon Pfan.”

“Please hold.”

He did.

It was unfortunate that the investigation was coming to a close before it was truly finished, but to push it any further would mean putting countless people in danger and almost certainly losing Prazza altogether. The gangster had enough credits to disappear indefinitely if he chose. Which was likely the reason Winter was going to catch him now. As an investigator, you had to know when to cut your losses and when to press on. Prazza, by contrast, should have cut loose years ago. But that was the problem with folks with power. When they had it, they never wanted to let it go. So Prazza had dug himself in deep like a tick, and was about to be ripped free from Corellia by the long hand of the law.

“This is Pfan,” came the voice on the other end.

“Jax, it’s Winter. Look, time is short but I need you to mobilize your guys. Things have gotten a bit hairy and I have to blow my cover. I’ve gathered enough evidence to put Prazza away for life, but we need backup.”

“Whoa whoa! Slow down! What happened?”

“Long story short, an old friend showed up in the slave warehouse you’ve never been able to raid and I had to get her out. Now we are at the club and have to take Prazza down or he’s gonna bolt. We should be able to lock the club down without much issue but I don’t have enough sets of cuffs to arrest everyone if you catch my drift.”

A long sigh escaped the comlink. “I can spin everyone up and be there in 20 minutes, Winter, but that’s pushing it. Who is your friend anyway?”

Winter considered silently for a moment and narrowed his eyes curiously. “A fellow Jedi by the name of Kilia Tharen.”

There was a short pause. “Tharen? Korbin Tharen’s granddaughter?”

“The very same.”

“.....We’ll be there in 10.”

“Thank you Lieutenant. I’m heading in.”

Winter smiled to himself. Some gambles paid off. Normally he wouldn’t have dropped Kilia’s name. But the Tharen name was known on Corellia. He’d banked on the sterling reputation that Kilia’s kin had garnered with CorSec over the years. It was one of the first things that Jaxon had said to him when they’d shook hands at their first meeting, that he was honored to work with another Jedi and had great relations with Master Tharen in the past. Korbin had saved a few of his men years ago with his intervention, and if you knew anything about cops, they were loyal to the bone for for someone who sacrificed themselves for the well being of service members. Hell, if he’d said Korbin himself had been present, Winter wagered he could have had the entire force show up to surround the club, and not just the investigations unit.

Lightsaber clipped to his belt and badge hanging from the inner pocket of his jacket, Winter adjusted his clothing and fell into the familiar saunter of the gangster he’d been impersonating.

When he was within earshot of the doorman he waved casually. “Yo, is the boss in?”

“Dolman? Where the fuck have you been? We’ve got problems! The boss put an all-call out twenty minutes ago! The warehouse got hit.”

Winter stopped up short, molding his face into a mask of surprise. “What?!”

“Get your ass inside! We are gearing up for war in there! Boss is looking for the rat who gave up the warehouse, you better have a damn good excuse for being late!”

“Oh I do.” he said casually. “I’m a Jedi.”

He could have lied before going in. But if Prazza was getting an itchy trigger finger, Winter didn’t want anyone behind him who could get the drop on him.

“You… what?”

Winter acted with honed reflexes. His left hand shot out like a knife and caught the man on the side of the temple with enough force to knock him out. When he was sure the guard wouldn’t get back up, he straightened his jacket and walked inside.

The club was a bit of a madhouse. Patrons and dancers were all lined up on their knees along the center stage. Prazza was before them pacing, his face red and full of rage. Blasters and ammunition packs were strewn across tables as the gang was arming up, stuffing holdouts and knives into pockets and belts. The only sound that was present besides the clicking of magazines into place, was the whimpering and crying of those on stage. Winter could already see one body face down on the platform and he grimaced. It was one of the regulars. He’d been too slow.

And next in line, was Candice.

“Dolman!” Prazza shouted, “Get up here! You owe me a show of loyalty!”

“What are you talking about boss? I’ve proven myself over and over again!” he called back, walking forward with a confidence that had left him at the sight of a dead innocent.

“I think this bitch is a rat!” he yelled, waving a blaster at Candice. She was shaking and tears had streaked her makeup. “And she spends all her time with you when you’re around! Prove to me you got the stones to be a killer! You put one in her head, and you’re in for life. Whatta ya say?”

“What do I say?” Winter said carefully coming to a halt at the base of the stage. There were ten men in the club staring at him. Probably more in the back where Kilia was entering. She would be closest to the stage if things went south. He had to draw attention away from Candice, but that meant putting his own life on the line.

Well worth the risk.

He cracked his neck to the side and fell into the fighting mentality of form III. He was about to have a lot of death being thrown at him, and he needed to be careful on how he deflected the bolts. Winter shrugged his shoulders and began stripping off his jacket, exposing the naked arms and toned muscles beneath the black tank top he wore, leaving his credentials hidden in the pocket but letting his lightsaber hang free from his belt. He tossed his jacket on the bar and flicked his saber hilt off of his belt.

“I say… “ he continued darkly, “On behalf of CorSec and in the name of the Jedi Order, you’re all under arrest. Charged with kidnapping, trafficking of drugs, sentient beings, and illegal artifacts, extortion, theft, and murder. Come quietly, or else.”

The room was stunned. All eyes were glued on him. Which was where he wanted them. As subtle as he could, Winter focused on the blaster in Prazza’s hand and nudged the safety back into place with the Force.

“A Jedi…” Prazza sneered. “Or else… what?”

Winter flicked his thumb and his brilliant silver blade thrummed to life at his side, casting a sheen of bright light over the club’s veneer of darkened neon hues. He let the bass of the weapon fill him up with its familiar tones and let the tension vibrate out of his soul as he once again felt complete with it in hand.

“You think one Jedi, with one lightsaber, is enough to take down all these men?” Prazza asked with incredulity and amusement dripping from his voice.

Winter grinned again, this time, a full smile. “No.” he admitted and slowly raised his saber into a defensive position before him, splitting his face in half from the angle Prazza was looking down from. “That’s why I brought two…”

Prazza squinted at him in confusion.

“KILIA, NOW!” He shouted and rushed forward. He heard a second snap-hiss from somewhere just before the blasters opened up.

And then all hell broke loose.