Quinlan Vos lightly shoved a spice addled Rodian as he stormed into the tawdry brothel, a single glare sent its associates scattering instead of confronting him. If there were any planets the Kiffar Jedi hoped he would never need to visit again in his life once he finally managed to depart from it, it was Tatooine.
Both he and his padawan had been tasked with carrying out a mission at the behest of the Jedi Council, relating to a growing concern with certain criminal syndicates and spice cartels using the desert planet to centralize their illicit business ventures within the Core systems. Quinlan wasn't surprised in the least bit to discover that Tatooine had been used for such a purpose. Whenever it came to the operation of some of the more significant forms of organised crime, all hyperspace lanes seemed to lead back to the seemingly insignificant planet. The Hutts had long since used the planet to leverage their position beyond Hutt space, orchestrating their ever growing web of smuggling networks far beyond the reach of the Republic.
It also didn't surprise Quinlan when the responsibility of bringing the network out in the open was given to him. Whether he had fully meant to or not, the Kiffar had developed a reputation as being one of the Order's more unpredictable members. He lacked the patience and serenity that his fellow Jedi exhibited, usually taking the route of doing before thinking, allowing his complusiveness to lead him. It once acted as a source of concern for the members of the Council, his behaviour and morality continually balanced on the narrow line between the light and the dark. With the Sith having been considered all but extinct for the past thousand years, there was the persistent fear of a return whenever a Jedi risked crossing over to the dark side.
But over time, Quinlan's ability to do certain things that most Jedi would shy away from became an advantage, leading to him being utilised for covert operations that would require him to go deep undercover, acting without hesitation, no matter what he was expected to do while maintaining his false identity. It certainly didn't hurt that Quinlan happened to know his way around a blaster far better than most of his peers, a skill that allowed him to leave his lightsaber behind without feeling a sense of vulnerability.
Ordinarily, he would leap at any mission thrown his way without hesitation, always wanting to prove his effectiveness and loyalty to the Order. But when it was announced that he would need his padawan to join him, he showed a rare sign of hesitation. The galaxy was a dangerous place for female Twi'leks, especially ones possessing the heart stopping beauty that Aayla did, but even the hard headed Quinlan relented under the pressure of the Council's demands.
The moment master and padawan touched down in the Mos Espa spaceport, they set to work embedding themselves within the seedy den. With Boonta Eve just around the corner, it was far easier for Quinlan to infiltrate the Ruinar, a syndicate believed to have engaged in the trade of procuring slaves to sell on. He quickly earned his place on the lowest rung of the ladder, using his skills as a hand to hand combatant to offer his services as a bodyguard, his virtually unnoticeable use of the Force gave him an advantage that no other applicant had, his ruthlessness ensured that no being could possibly suspect him of being anything other than what he presented himself as.
Though he knew some of his actions could border on cruelty, his adherence of the code allowed him to divide himself from his actions. He took no pleasure in what he did, there was no commitment to the acts, it was simply a means to an end, a necessary method to bring some semblance of law and order back to the galaxy. But he found it truly difficult to use those same methods of dissociation when he tried to come to terms with Aayla's covert identity.
It was a well known fact that most of the trafficked women the Ruinar syndicate got their hands on would be forced into the various businesses the syndicate owned, much of which consisting of the selling of sexual services. Without informing her master, knowing that he wouldn't hesitate in stopping her, Aayla had applied for a position within the 'Lover's Dune', a poorly disguised brothel that operated at the very heart of Mos Espa. As much as Quinlan wanted to charge over to the club and drag her out before she could go through with it, he resisted. The formation of any relationship that broke the code was a dangerous thing, something that could easily lead to a Jedi being consumed by the addictive embrace of passion. He resorted to trusting his padawan, allowing her to walk her own path, just as he had done.
Quinlan spent most of the extended mission bolstering his place within the Ruinar syndicate, developing a near enough friendly relationship with some of the underbosses. It didn't take long for him to become familiar with the spaceport, making note of which vessels made the most frequent visits, sending the data to his contacts in the Order, who would then relay the information onto the Republic's authorities. Whenever he heard word back of a successful seizure it became far simpler for him to identify the vessels associated with the syndicate.
Reluctantly, he kept his communication with Aayla to a minimum, exchanging only the most relevant information with one another before cutting their com-links. Whenever he was alone in his quarters located in the outskirts of the spaceport, Quinlan mediated. It was a routine thing for any Jedi, a method of feeling as close to the Force as possible within the physical realm. But Quinlan used it as a way to distract himself, to keep his mind away from Aayla. He knew what went on in the clubs, what the girls were expected to do, he felt as if he had betrayed her by not stepping in, that he shouldn't have allowed her naive understanding of the galaxy beyond Coruscant to dictate her decision.
But dwelling on it served no real function. He continued on in his mission without fault, deepening his ties with the syndicate without raising so much as a suspicious eyebrow. That was until he spotted a familiar face strolling through the streets of Mos Espa, joined by a more than out of place Gungan and a young woman as they followed in the wake of a blonde haired boy. It had been his intention to not meet Aayla again until the mission was at an end, but even the ever stoic Quinlan Vos had to admit when the parameters of the mission had changed.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~
Quinlan held his breath as he passed by a small group close to the entrance openly using spice, with a few not even bothering to hide their distribution of death sticks to certain shady individuals that passed by. A few turns brought him into the main club area. At the very centre sat a wide bar, full of the devices capable of producing a large variety of alcoholic drinks suited for every possible species. Groups of boisterous aliens stumbled around the bar, some threatening to start a conflict with one another. Stepping towards the booths full of tattered seats, he caught sight of the working girls, each one located near the rear of the room, flirting with their would-be clients. A pair of stunning Zeltrons gave him a quick inspection when he passed by, before turning their attention back to the Dug sat between them, who showed no shame as he openly fondled them with his lecherous limbs.
He walked across the room, just narrowly dodging an empty glass that had been tossed by a particularly disgruntled Duros, colliding with the face of a Wookie just feet from Quinlan. Ignoring the sudden fight that broke out behind him, he made it to the rear, searching for any sign of his padawan. A scantily clad Togruta brushed past him, leading a client by the hand towards a narrow hall just beside a row of sabacc tables.
"Looking for someone?" a coarse voice from behind asked.
Quinlan turned and immediately took a step back as he came face to face with a Hutt, decorated with a number of expensive pieces of jewellery. It wasn't all too shocking for multiple Hutts to be seen throughout the spaceports across Tatooine, with the loathsome Jabba playing host for his family members during the build up to Boonta Eve. But it was clear to Quinlan that the Hutt he had encountered was the owner of the club, or at least a co-owner. His fingers were covered in Chalcedony rings coated with expensive gems, his skin colour denoted his relation to Jabba.
"Err, I'm looking for a girl," Quinlan replied, staring the Hutt directly in the his slitted eyes.
The Hutt rumbled with laughter. "I see, I see. Looking for that sort of company, are you? You've come to the right place, you can call me Ridja, I oversee these clubs for the Desilijic Tiure clan. Now, tell me, what girl are you looking for in particular?"
Quinlan decided against beating around the bush. He knew that Twi'lek slaves were in abundance on Tatooine, asking for one directly wasn't an unusual thing. "I'm looking for a Twi'lek, if you have one that is."
Ridja opened his thick arms out wide, his voice boomed with amusement. "Do I have Twi'leks? My boy, you can request one by skin tone and the length of her lekku and I can guarantee that I will have her ready and waiting for you."
Quinlan tested his luck, hoping he wouldn't raise any suspicion. "What about a Rutian?"
A wide smile grew on Ridja's face. "Exquisite taste! Jaayza! You have a client!"
From a small alcove, Aayla finally emerged, leaving behind a smitten Quarren who excreted a few droplets of inky black saliva as he watched the Twi'lek saunter away. It was the first time Quinlan had seen his padawan in person since the beginning of the mission, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he had caught sight of an entirely different person altogether. Far from the perpetually earnest girl he had known for the best part of a decade, the woman that had joined him was oozed seduction, surrounded by an almost overwhelming aura of sensuality. She wore a blood red shimmersilk chemise, a gold headpiece wound its way around her lekku, her already tall frame was heightened by a pair white plastex platform heels. He hid it well, but Quinlan felt his concern for his padawan growing in an instant.
Ridja snatched his hand out and wrapped it around Aayla's narrow waist, pulling her against his bulky form. "Mmm, Jaayza. Where have you been?"
Aayla leaned up and brushed her fingers beneath Ridja's chins, pressing her red lips to his maw. "I've been busy working, earning you every peggat I can before my shift ends. Why? Have you missed me, Ridja?"
The Hutt's eyes narrowed, filled with what Quinlan immediately recognised as unbridled lust for Aayla, a fact that triggered a dangerous sense of jealousy in the Kiffar. "You know I have. Few women have ever pleased me in the way you have, Jaayza. But there's enough time for us to be alone later on, I have a client here for you, you're just his type."
"Is that right?" Aayla smiled as she pressed her body further into Ridja's, almost sitting against his thick tail. It didn't need to reach her face, but the flash of concern in her eyes was enough to create an understanding between her master and herself. "How could I possibly turn down someone who came here in search of me? What'll it be, flyboy? Just for me to be an attentive listener for a bit? Or are you looking to get kriffed within an inch of your life?"
