Private Landslide

[Danger Arceneau]

Nathema
Arceneau Trade - Persephone Base| Theme
Several months ago

Just because a woman is good at something doesn't necessarily mean it's what she should do in life. If that were the case, most women in the Arceneau family would be women of corporate means or Companions. For men, business is war. For Danger, business was like lovemaking. At the end of negotiations, all parties should walk away satisfied.

For that very reason, the Holo tabloids had a field day with Danger Arceneau's comings and goings since she took over Arceneau Trade. It only got worse through the years. Behind her back, it was commonly held that she was a shady, cold-hearted vamp who thought nothing of stealing other women's husbands. The truth was Danger had no taste for domesticated men. In the nearly forty years she'd taken ATC in hand, she'd kept a strict line of demarcation regarding business and men. Only once had she broken that. Never again.

Colette Arceneau bestowed upon her wisdom to Danger much like her mama and her ma before her. The sins of the mother are often visited upon the daughter. When a woman looks into her mother's eyes, she sees her future. When she looks into her daughter's eyes, she sees her past.

Danger would be damned if Myra made the same wretched mistakes Danger did in the past. Alric couldn't convince her to stay her hand. Then again, he never understood the type of betrayal and heartache one could find themselves wallowing in misery and solitude for years. Silara's suicide wouldn't compare. At least he had Rose and Lily - but even then, the choices he'd made in the past regarding those girls had never stood right by her.

The Trade Queen's bodywood desk was as large as a bed, and it was not unusual to see her hold business meetings as if she were dressed to go out to a cocktail party. Danger stood before her desk in deep thought, arms crossed over her generous curves, staring at the vast list of profiles, history, lineages, and every dirty little secret her investigators could find now on display on the vast holo screen—all for one reason: her daughter, Myra.

History may sweep aside the ordinary man, but women have a memory like flypaper. Women love who they love; there is no rhyme or reason. Come nearly more than fifteen years since Myra Elspeth was adopted into the family. The exact amount of time that little girl came to know and grow up with the one little mopped hair and blue-eyed little boy she'd also considered her own for much longer, Makai Dashiell.

History tends to repeat itself, and it was no surprise for the Trade Queen that her adopted daughter would fall for her childhood friend’s charms. Makai was just like his daddy in all the best ways and, at the least, received the best of his ma through those lovely scales and beautiful eyes. Good riddance to the rest; if Danger were being honest, all Thessa Kai did that made her life of any worth was bear that sweet child and give him life.

Yet, as much as Danger loved the younger Dashiell, there came a time when choices had to be made. Myra had sunk all her bets on Makai Dashiell by the time she was ten years old, declaring for Alric and Danger to hear she was going to marry Makai. Got a chuckle out of them for sure. Still, the laughter turned to concern once the years turned to more than a decade, with nothing to show save a listless view in life and a workaholic determined to keep every moment busy trying to forget the heartbreak Myra felt every day.

Holo-tabloids be damned, say what they will about the loose nature of Arceneau women — their loyalty, and an equally long memory stood the test of time. Myra may not be a child of her womb, but by nurturing design, save for her trauma and anxiety, Myra was the spitting image of her mama in personality and, unfortunately, her love life.

The decisions a woman makes make the woman, and while Danger wasn't going to push Myra into moving on, she could at least make an opportunity for her to meet someone worthy of her. Someone who wouldn't try to weasel himself in like Blythe De'taar.

The bloody bastard.

It had taken every bit of willpower not to get the rascal thrown into the nearest Sarlaac pit. Had Myra not asked that she leave it be, knowing full well what Alric and Danger would do, Danger would have done it. Hands tied, the Trade Queen had to sit back and bite her tongue, knowing full well from being in the same position before that Myra didn't need any told yous or reiteration regarding choices made on her own. Blythe was an opportunist, the wrong man at the right time, for when Myra was so desperate for anyone to feel something, she said yes. There had been no method of changing her mind. It was all in her eyes. It was a choice Myra had to carry on and let run on her own.

One lives with their mistake; they either make one stronger or cut them to the bone, leaving them lame and unable to carry on. Danger wasn't willing for Myra to go through that again. She'll do better than what August Arceneau had done with his daughter; instead of buying off her childhood sweetheart, she'll ensure that every possible potential match would be available for Myra. Maybe then, the angels would see fit for one of them to perk Myra from her gloom. Maybe then, she could forget. Maybe then, she'll fall in love once again with someone worthy of her.

A deep intake of breath filled Danger's lungs, and she took a moment to bring her thumb and forefinger up to pinch the bridge of her nose. Judah Dashiell should arrive soon for their scheduled monthly dinner. This time around Danger was overseeing operations for agriculture on Nathema; she invited the elder Dashiell to Persephone base to stay a few days and maybe even see if he was interested in pursuing ventures here. They worked well together, and ever since they met at the Levantine Summit almost twenty years ago, Danger had been doing her best to assist him in any way.

She was dressed in a deep indigo dress with a pencil skirt, her auburn hair swept back in a soft upward twist. Kohl-lined cattail enhanced the vibrancy of her emerald eyes while corseca red lips stained the fullness of her generous mouth. Even at her age, she was still a striking woman, a testament to her Hapan Lorell Raider ancestry.

She'd told Aeri to let Judah come in once he arrived; there was no need for formalities with them. As it was, she needed to complete this list before sending out invitations to the next Areceneau Cultural Archives event. If she worked it correctly, she could navigate a series of small, intimate garden luncheons and dinners. Nothing formal, just enough to allow Myra to mingle comfortably without being overwhelmed. If she spread it across several events, adjusted who she met with in her business dealings, perhaps one might catch her genuine interest.

 

[Judah Dashiell]

Nathema was a new planet for him, one not traveled to in the past. From his research it seemed to be a formerly ravaged agricultural and farm world, quietly tying to eek out an existence in the 'verse without attracting trouble. When Danger Arceneau had invited him out to the Persephone Base he had joked it had been far too long since he worked on a farm and his knowledge would be of little use in this realm. That was better left to his cousin Caspian, a man obsessed with producing the perfect cut of meat out on his massive ranch in Saleucami. Judah had been all too happy to eat the 'samples' as it were and give his feedback. Doubtful any such adventures were to be had ahead.

Arriving at Persephone, Aeri had informed him where to find Danger, an office not far from the landing pad. The surroundings were much different than he expected, having been mentally prepared to traipse around a dusty farm. It seemed Arceneau Trade had been putting in a great deal of work and the beauty of the architecture greatly reflected as such.

Adjusting his tie as he entered the office, Judah greeted the Trade Queen with a joke.

"Danger, I didn't see any nerf grazing out front, what type of agriculture are you getting into again?"

Then his eyes fell to the massive holoscreen in front of the woman. Young men, seemingly all in their twenties, were in neat rows across, an image next to their names and for some, their title. Judah could see a bit of highlighting on the screen for some of the men, as if they had been chosen for the next round of debate. It didn't take a genius to figure out what Danger was doing ; these were another round of suitors for Myra.

It made him sick to his stomach.

Not because of Makai, but because of what he knew. Not too long ago, while smoking a cigarra out on a wide swath of balcony with several other other men, Casteel Mer'taal had approached him and asked for a word. The young man lead him into a study of the mansion, shutting the door to ensure his hushed words were not overheard. Casteel had informed him of the actions of Myra's last suitor ; Blythe De'taar. Apparently the man had been running his mouth about the more intimate aspects of the failed courtship.

This was not unusual in social settings he had attended. The males of their species typically tended to huddle together and conversation turned different than that of talk in mixed company. It wasn't unusual to hear of a sexual conquest, a comment on the breasts of a passing woman, a lewd joke. All this was well and fine with Judah.

It was the fact Blythe's recollections painted a picture of an unwilling partner and a decision driven to 'conquer' an 'inflexible' Trade Heiress at any cost. It was the type of behavior any father strictly and firmly warned their son from participating in. Apparently Blythe's father didn't feel such a talk had been needed, letting his swine bastard of a son run wild.

Casteel had laid out what had been said in exacting detail, leaving him fuming at Blythe, at the fact Danger would allow such a man in proximity to her daughter. Did she not meet personally with the young men first to screen them? Where the fuck was Alric in this? Did he not have any protective measures for his own daughter? It seemed a man with three daughters would have had more gumption to ensure their safety.

A plan was formed between the two, both intent on ensuring Myra wouldn't encounter Blythe alone again. Casteel promised to have a gentlemany word with Blythe about running his mouth. It seemed a compromise to Judah's desire toss the boy off a jagged cliff.

"You can't be serious Danger. Give the girl a break, she was all but assaulted by Blythe and you're ready to throw her to the next round of concupiscent kathhounds?"

A scoff.

"I hope you're screening these ones better because I'm beginning to question your judgement."

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Rhyme and reason, Danger's momma always said. It is the smallest of decisions that send a life spiraling off course.

"Judah --" His name was a husky welcome drifting in the din when the first verbal slap hit Danger across the face. The reaction was subtle but immediate. The warmth of her features and the smile she'd cast in Judah's direction at the turn of his joke regarding Nerf and agriculture suddenly froze on her face. A slow blink of feline emerald eyes would bore into the furious and disgusted fiery sapphire orbs of a man Danger had considered an intimate friend for almost twenty years.

A scoff, then without even the chance to turn the other cheek, Judah landed another, drawing proverbial blood from the Trade Queen in a manner she hadn't felt in nearly forty years. Alric's betrayal she'd seen coming from the slip Silara gave at that gala during his heart attack. When he had come to confess, the stab in the back had merely been a formality; he'd only come to pull out the shiv he'd given her weeks earlier. Judah's blow, on the other hand, was completely unexpected, but at least she could give him credit for landing the blow to her face.

For a few seconds, it would appear as if Danger Arceneau was unsusceptible to the fuel Judah Dashiell had added to her fire, so aloof as a Nexu was she. Few would reckon to say she almost had a big head, the way she sat back and watched the 'verse without an expression. It was anything but reality within. Danger was the eye of the storm, outwardly calm with mirror-slicked seas, while bracing herself on the inside for the sudden devastation of a tempest she had no forewarning of. Time, after all, certainly had a way of building a spine in a woman to weather just about any storm. Danger had, after all, lived through them many a time.

A tightening in her stomach churned, and it felt like slivers of ice ran down her spine. If there was one thing her momma done taught her is that there was no use crying over spilt milk. Still, it didn't mean that Danger didn't feel every single ache and pain when cut to the bone. She was human, after all, and she still bled when struck with a knife.

All the more so when the subject of the matter of her consistent agonizing worry was none other than her daughter, Myra. Danger, above all, knew very well the sort of chit-talking drivel the blasted Hutt nerf herder-licking Blythe De'Taar was spilling. The gossip. The attempt to push Myra's boundaries. The slander. Yes, and thanks to Casteel, even the mistress. Yet nothing compared to how Myra had stood there before Danger and Alric with unshed tears, a blanched face, and begging Alric and Danger to let it go.

To let it go and that it didn't matter. That it was over, and Myra put an end to it. She didn't want Danger or Alric to stain their hands with the life of someone who would ultimately matter little in the great scheme of things. When Danger asked why Myra would let him get away with it, Myra said she couldn't blame him. As incensed as Danger and Alric were at hearing that, nothing prepared them for what Myra told them next. That she understood and couldn't blame Blythe for what he did because, ultimately, she understood. Understood the depth of loving someone so much but couldn't be with. How loving someone so much could make them make terrible choices-- and that, ultimately, it was her fault for accepting Blythe's proposal suit to begin with.

Myra met Blythe in passing at a wedding celebration for a Chandrilan business heiress. As it had been a local event from her apartment, Myra figured there was no need for Casteel to be an escort. It had been a decision that resulted in a series of regrets. Emotions rubbed raw at the wedding; Myra was nowhere emotionally ready to decline an invitation for dinner from Blythe. The desire for a relationship, companionship, missing Makai and needing to feel loved had been overwhelming. The rest, well, despite Alric's and Danger's words of caution, resulted in the complication they were in now. Dealing with the aftermath delicately to ensure Myra had no lashback whatsoever.

To hear Judah assume that Blythe had been screened by Danger for Myra was so absurd that the Trade Queen couldn't speak for long seconds. As if she would have allowed him anywhere near Myra to begin with if she had.

"Throw her to the next round of concupiscent kathhounds?" Danger quietly echoed, her husky voice holding an edge of finely held incredulous outrage that gave the lightest of trebles.

"Question....my judgment?" Danger straightened her back, tilting her head back to study Judah's face, searching his angular features and the deep furrows of his brows that anger was presently carving lines over it.

"Are you being serious?" she asked, moving her fingertips over the surface of her bodywood desk. The pads of her fingers would lightly trace the grain, feeling the imperfections of the whorls and knots. Every one a unique fingerprint. No two alike. She needed the tactile distraction to prevent her from clenching her fists into tight knots.

The fury in his expression told her he was. He really believed she was at fault for this. The sudden realization was a silent strike to her chest, piercing her like no verbal lance could.

"Well, well... color me surprised, Judah. Of all people, the last I'd expect this from is from you." Danger shook her head, nerves shot, and she needed something to keep her hands busy. Pushing away from her desk, brisk motions took the small silver case beside her stylus and the lighter. With a flick of her thumb, she opened the case then plucked a cigarillo from the neat row within.

 

[Judah Dashiell]

"Well, well... color me surprised, Judah. Of all people, the last I'd expect this from is from you."

"Funny, I would say the same about you."

At this point he was apoplectic. Why did she not see the bigger issue at hand? It was staring both of them in the face across the desk in the form of a massive holoscreen. It remained frozen with information of the potential kathhounds Danger Arceneau was lining up for her daughter. Eyes caught some of their details : a royal on Polyneaus, an apparently near-genius doctor, a famous smash-ball athlete. While on holoscreen they looked like any other upstanding young men throughout the galaxy, Danger was missing his point.

How did Danger even approve to let such a thing occur.

Why did he have a more protective and fierce need to shield Myra than her own parents? Of course she was a young woman now, an adult, free to do as she so pleased. Yet he had seen the Trade Queen in action before, both in business and her personal life. Danger Arceneau got what she wanted, when she wanted. If the redhead wanted to put her foot down and have Myra fall in line, it wouldn't be difficult. He had quickly picked up on Myra's over eagerness to please, especially when it came towards Danger.

"Yes, your judgment. First you allow her not to merely explore the option of dating Blythe but allow him to be her suitor. Now you're just adding more fuel to the fire. Is it not apparent to you the girl is in no state of mind to be put in such a position of choosing who to spend her life with? Are Casteel and I the only two concerned at this point?"

Judah shook his head, concerned with the fact Danger didn't seem concerned about any of these developments. He reached across, taking the remote and turning off the holoscreen. It was only serving to inflame in anger further.

"Shes in her twenties! In her twenties! What is the rush? What are you expecting will happen if she waits and finds her bearings and doesn't commit for a year or two?"

"She's far too young to get married and start pushing out some pricks kids. This is what you want, Danger, a broken unhappy daughter trapped in a loveless marriage? Once Myra produces an heir with whatever "suitable" match she finally picks just to please you she's stuck. You and I both know she goes out of her way to please you because she's adopted. Myra will choose anything you dangle in front of her, all in an attempt to be a perfect daughter."

"Do you know what that's like Danger? To be stuck between obligation and what the heart wants? To feel like you're going to be an utter failure no matter what choice is made?"

He certainly did ; Maramere. The desire to be with Danger Arceneau had been tempting to the point he had been seconds away from inviting the woman into his bed for the evening, no, for the rest of her life. Words had almost tumbled out, his hand nearly took hers to bring the redhead behind closed doors. Yet he remembered his obligation, the obligation to wait for a wife that would never return. By the time he figured out his wife was gone out of his and Makai's life it was too late. The Trade Queen had married and he instantly plastered on a false smile to hide the pain, pretending to be happy to hear such news when he was anything but.

"You don't. Don't humor me and pretend you do.I won't stand idly by while you break that girl down. She's already been through too much."

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Yes, your judgment. First you allow her not to merely explore the option of dating Blythe but allow him to be her suitor. Now you're just adding more fuel to the fire. Is it not apparent to you the girl is in no state of mind to be put in such a position of choosing who to spend her life with? Are Casteel and I the only two concerned at this point?"

Time stops at certain moments in life, taking snapshots of the best and worst. Dreams and wishes fade to nothing. In the end, a life is totaled and defined by a handful of memories that hang in the mind.

In this particular case, Danger didn't know whether to laugh at the absurdity of the situation or tear up at the utter frustration and anger lancing down her spine, making it feel as if her bones had turned to molten iron rods in her aghast indignation. Anger, after all, was an addiction that had to be fed. It ate rich, and it ate deep. A voracious appetite that paled in comparison to the glutinous hunger of revenge.

Cigarillo would be shoved between full, red lips, nowhere near the graceful dance the Trade of Queen typically showed. Pomp and circumstance; a great dame who gave off the illusion of a tower of strength, visibly reduced to a fine tremble and a narrowing of verdant eyes, needing the acrid smoke a flash of fire and the subsequent deep drag to hide the growing redness in her eyes.

"You really gonna do this?" Danger asked, her voice a low throaty rasp, breathing out a stream of smoke etched in disbelief and hemmed with ache. It wasn't a question directed at Judah as much as the situation. His scathing remark that he thought he'd never expect 'this' from her, thinking her so callous, so cruel, cut to the core. Smoke rose from the vice she held between two fingers, ribbons of blue-white drifting into the air. The narcotic would steel nerves; seemingly none would know were frayed beyond belief for several months already.

As if I don't already know. As if I don't care. As if I hadn't lived through it.

This is what you want, Danger, a broken unhappy daughter trapped in a loveless marriage? Once Myra produces an heir with whatever "suitable" match she finally picks just to please you she's stuck. You and I both know she goes out of her way to please you because she's adopted. Myra will choose anything you dangle in front of her, all in an attempt to be a perfect daughter."

Judah sounded so angry, so sure, Danger could taste the grit. She stared at the Dashiell, took in the way outrage cut sharp lines over his handsome swarthy face and scruffy peppered beard, lips drawn taunt save for that curl of his upper lip in distaste. At Danger. At the situation. At the seeming abandonment of Myra to the would-be Kathhounds of suitors that, in Judah's mind, were just a convoy line set up for Myra to pluck one out to settle.

Questions would plague the mind like writhing maggots choking themselves on grey matter. Is a woman nothing more than a fertile plot of dirt where a man plants himself to grow? Danger had given herself to three men. It had just about leached the life out of her. And what did she have to show for it? That's what Danger told herself over and over again in the past.

"Do you know what that's like Danger? To be stuck between obligation and what the heart wants? To feel like you're going to be an utter failure no matter what choice is made?...You don't. Don't humor me and pretend you do.I won't stand idly by while you break that girl down. She's already been through too much."

At one time, Danger had been tempted. Oh, so very tempted to cross a line she shouldn't cross. More than when she'd helped Alric realize his affection for Silara. By the very one standing before her with fire and brimstone in his eyes. When thoughts of she and he made her mind wander in what-ifs. End result was the timing wasn’t right. The same reasons for that attraction that had drawn her to that near temptation were the same on why they had been so out of reach. She'd long told herself she would not play second-fiddle again to any man's necessity nor be anyone's excuse for leaving. There was a fine line between lust and love, and envy straddles the line like a two-credit whore. It would have been easy to press it. To take advantage, to use every bit of manipulating skillset to set the Dejarik board in her favor. Yet she didn't.

"Obligation and what the heart wants?" Danger would murmur quietly, slowly shaking her head. "... don't humor you and pretend that I do." Then came the slow, disbelieving nods as if confirming to herself that, yep, Judah went there. This blasted life made Danger make those exact choices over and over again. Damned if she did and damned if she didn't. The end result left her with two young graves in the ground before her babies took their first breath and heartbreak at being left behind regardless of how long she tried to grab hold.

Would it be so terrible to desire, for once, to come first? Yet every time she made herself vulnerable, it only came back to bite her tenfold. By the time Alric had come around again, broken over Silara's death and needing comfort to make it through the day, Danger had long come to terms with the fact that she had no lover, no child, and no kin to share her life. Miserable with a whole lotta heart to give and none her own to give it to. She would die alone. That crow and womprat pie had been a hard swallow to take.

Memories reduced to blurs of emotion, those tiny pearls of the past buried so deep she could not gouge them out, made her almost bypass all reason. The only thread keeping Danger from flying off the handle and giving as good as Judah gave was the singular reason at the core of his wrath: Myra's well-being. She knew that Judah would cut the heart out of anyone who tried to hurt his son. He was a man who protected the things he loved, one way or another. She knew because she had seen the scars. Some women would have been appalled by the violence he was capable of; Danger found it strangely comforting.

"Judah Dashiell, I've long held you in the highest regard goin' on almost twenty years now," She began, emotion coating her voice thick with a twang, the Trade Queen locking those feline green eyes straight into Judah's own. "I knows you to be a man of the highest caliber; loyal, steadfast, a hard worker, and a good lovin’ protective pa to your boy. I've long held your words of advice with the deepest respect and admiration."

Her tongue went sweeping and sucking over her teeth as if doing her damnest to keep herself in check. Yet there was no hiding the bite that came next, her lips curling up into a wobbly overly cordial smile that would be easy to read as a veneer to the true turmoil that was held within, "But an empty cargo hauler sure makes a lot of noise." meaning people who know nothing often talk the most. "Here you go, burstin' in like a Wookiee in a Hologram Theater, causin' a scene without knowin' the plot."

An angry flick of her middle finger shot the cigarillo's ash towards a tray. Danger hadn't moved from behind her desk yet, needing to root herself lest she slap Judah in a flash of violence she rarely showed.

"How 'bout you show some of that there common sense I knows be in that pretty head of yours." The quiet steel in her voice held no quarrel. Danger's back tensed despite the fine trembling that ran the length of her spine, full chest rising and falling with every nostril-flaring intake of breath she took, her chin lifted high. Not in defiance, no, but in an unconscious act to try and maintain what bit of dignity she could salvage in front of the only man she'd held above reproach. "Or, I swear, by my granddaddy's grave, I won't be held accountable for my words or actions next."

 

[Judah Dashiell]

"But an empty cargo hauler sure makes a lot of noise." meaning people who know nothing often talk the most. "Here you go, burstin' in like a Wookiee in a Hologram Theater, causin' a scene without knowin' the plot."

An angry flick of her middle finger shot the cigarillo's ash towards a tray. Danger hadn't moved from behind her desk yet, needing to root herself lest she slap Judah in a flash of violence she rarely showed.

"How 'bout you show some of that there common sense I knows be in that pretty head of yours."

Those words gave him pause.

To be fair, he hadn't expected himself to get riled up so quickly. Judah had expected to come in, sit down, light a cigarra and broach the subject with a more delicate touch. He had planned on weaving what he had heard from Casteel mixed with his own observations on the situation but once he had seen the holoscreen lined with young, eligible men it was like a match to dry straw to his protective side. While anyone else would question why he was so concerned about a young woman that wasn't his, Danger knew why.

He had been there through much of the girls life. It had spoken volumes when Danger had entrusted Myra into his care at a young age, leaving her on Dac when herself and Alric needed to travel together for one reason or another. Judah had watched her go from scared, mute little girl to dramatic teenager to an intelligent,thoughtful young woman. There were no lengths he wouldn't go to for Makai ; he felt equally the same about Myra. Grown as she may be, in his mind she was still a little girl splashing on the beach with his son. One that needed his watchful eye to see any threats ahead, to shield her from the harsh realities of the world.

Drifting over to the bar cart, he remained silent, pouring a glass of Tavraki whisky in a bit of a heavy handed fashion. Judah had never been much of a drinker until recently. Much like other revelations in his life, it came with the absence of his son ; no need to stay sober when he was no longer a responsible father figure with a son solely relying on him for every need.

Judah settled into one of the chairs across from the desk, closer to Danger now than the had been all night. A large sip of whisky was taken, he felt he was going to need it for whatever Danger wanted to tell him next. Oceanic met emerald, holding her gaze. He was eager to hear to explanation, to know why the hell she was setting up Myra so soon.

Why didn't you tell me sooner? Is what he wanted to say. Yet Judah wasn't Danger's husband, nor Myra's father despite how he felt. Still, it stung to find out third hand, to be blindsided by Casteel, to not be in the loop. You don't have the right to demand to know these things.

"Then inform this empty cargo hauler what he is missing. What I don't know about the situation."

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Then inform this empty cargo hauler what he is missing. What I don't know about the situation."

It was a good thing that Judah Dashiell managed to wrangle the lick of common sense Danger knew he had. As it was, Danger was brewing up a storm like a moisture farmer waiting on rain.

All these years, and he'd dare take a swing to her face without a by your leave or a question. What was worse was that she couldn't be completely mad at him. He'd hunkered down, raised scruff, bared his teeth, growled, and barked out protectively over Myra as if she were his own. Danger couldn't blame him or say he'd crossed a line; it be calling herself a hypocrite for the same damn thing she'd done to him with Makai years back.

Granted, at least she asked questions first before popping off at the hip. It still hurt to think Judah had and still thought the worst of her. Of all the men in her life, he was the last one other than Makai she'd wanted that from. Being around him still made her feel vulnerable, and Judah managed to cut her to the quick. Yet it was the thought that this wasn't about her but Myra that allowed her to shake off those thoughts like a howler slinging water and forced her thoughts to turn.

Danger could do more to a man with her eyes than most any other woman could do with her entire body. Cheeks sunk deep as she took a deep drag; those feline eyes staring at Judah through malachite chips flicked in a maelstrom of emotion with gold: a slow blink, a piercing expression as she wrangled her disappointment and vexation at him. The muscle in his bearded jaw tightened so slightly no one else in the 'verse would have caught it but Danger. Every man has his "tell." Either a woman can read it or not.

He was livid. Bursting at the seams with questions but making the attempt at tempering himself down. One of the qualities Danger admired throughout the years was Judah's capacity to try to be calm in the storm went shit hit the hyperdrive. Makai had it, too; it was like both knew there was no sense in stirring up more chaos but that it was best to fix it. It served both well in dealing with Salacia's salvage and mining exploits. Neither industry came so neat and orderly; they were practically the opposite. A necessary but dirty job. Honest but humble work.

With a heavy exhale of blue-white smoke, Danger finally moved. She set her cigarillo down on the ashtray, needing a stiff drink herself if they were going to wade through this sea of giji shit. She moved past him in a breeze of spicy cloved smoke and magnolia perfume, that scent of honeyed nectar delicately mingling with hints of citrus.

"Blythe De'taar was not a man of my choosin’ nor a by-product of tryin' to force Myra's hand to settle down and choose." Danger began, moving to the bar cart to grab a lowball glass and fill it with an overly generous pour of Whyrens as it could sensibly take while still allowing it enough air to breathe.

"He's a sleazy, opportunistic bastard of a man as eager for riches as a Toydarian at a marketplace and sneakier than a Jawa with stolen goods." Danger turned, brought the glass to her lips, and took a deep swig, eyes boring into Judah again, before adding, "A few months back, Myra met him at a business associate's wedding in Chandrila. She did not request Casteel as her escort as it was near her apartment and did not intend to stay long. " her lips pursed tight then.

"But I reckon you already know just what sort of state she'd be in being around a newly wedded couple in love and doing what I'm sure be expected; kissin, laughin and dancin and callin each other their true love and best friend in speeches left and right. Whatever it was, Myra was in a state and blood bein’ the water, Mistah Blythe moved in. Next thing we heard was that Myra was accepting’ his suit and looking to move toward proposal negotiations. As if this were a business contract to be made and discussed."

Thinking back, the entire situation stunned Danger and Alric. Asking for time and for consideration had met mute ears.

"Myra would not be convinced that things like this take time. She had it in her head she had to make it work. You know her Judah… once Myra's got her mind set, she's more tenacious than a Wookiee in a life-debt."

Her wrist began rocking her glass, watching the amber liquid swirl, “Forcin’ the issue would only make it escalate," the low murmur was coated with pained remembrance of the stupid choices in her past in the exact same situation," In the state she was in, still hurtin’ and desperate as she was, tellin’ her no or tryin’ to make it go away would cause her to do somethin’ she'd later regret. What we needed was time to investigate the issue and figure out all variables. Convince her otherwise. We had no inklin’ of the trash Blythe was then.”

 

[Judah Dashiell]

Listening to the exchange, it was clear he was wrong about the situation. Not completely wrong, at least in terms of Blythe and what had transpired between the man and Myra. Casteel had not given the details of how Myra had come to meet Blythe, perhaps the young man had not been privy to the details involved.

Fingers tapped on his knee for a moment, debating where to go from here.

Judah still wasn't convinced that Danger and Alric had done enough. Perhaps it was good for the universe as a whole that he was not blessed with any daughters. Either he would end up glassing planets in revenge for someone harming his hypothetical daughter or been a complete, overbearing, protective ass.

Much like he just was.

"I apologize for my outburst. I should have trusted you enough to ask questions first."

Yet he wasn't sure he was truly sorry. Judah felt the priority in this case was Myra, and if some feathers had been ruffled, then so be it. While Danger was his closest friend,Judah was willing to go great lengths for the young woman. If it meant arguing with the Trade Queen, then so be it.

Another sip of the whisky,mulling over his next words.

“And what do you intend to do about the situation? About this man's words towards Myra? Towards shielding her from his presence in the future?”

Casteel and himself had already come to an agreement to ensure either one of them would attend any event Myra would be at, even if they were not at her side. Judah had already arranged his schedule to attend two different events in the near future to ensure things went smoothly. While Judah was older, he was certain Blythe wouldn’t run his mouth in his presence, knowing he would prove a challenge.

The issue would remain in other circles, yet there was only so much one could do about gossip and rumors. Judah’s main focus was ensuring Blythe wouldn’t become emboldened to approach the young heiress at an event, using an audience to ensure her reaction to him would be minimized.

“You and I both know this Blythe character will end up bragging once more, it’s only a matter of time.”

 

[Danger Arceneau]

"I apologize for my outburst. I should have trusted you enough to ask questions first."

The level stare Danger bore Judah then would tear flesh. Of all the bullshit he could give her, he dished out that. Normally, a man would be hard-pressed to know what Danger Arceneau was thinking. The Queen of Trade always held her cards close when it came to business and played her part in providing the most hospitable of visits, from the drinks to the meals to the conversation to the compliments and genuine inquiries of the family.

The only time Judah Dashiell had ever been certain in the past that Danger wasn't playing her trade was when she was around Makai. As time passed and her true nature became more clear to the sort of woman she truly was, it became easier to distinguish the act from the true woman underneath.

The only problem was that it also provoked an opportunity for the Queen of Trade to hold a similar skill set to Judah's. Then again, Danger had a knack of picking him apart long since the beginning, when the weight loss, lack of sleep, and overwork had done a number on his body and affected his relationship with Makai. All due to that e'chuta of an exwife that had wrecked her family's life for her own selfish gains.

"Don't humor me with apologies you don't mean, Judah Dashiell." her husky voice held none of that usual honey, just all that Tatooine drawl. Ain't no Companion genteelness that she gave him.

It was the apology that he didn't mean that irked her more. "Be pissed off for Myra's case, own it, and I'm grateful you're as livid as me. But don't come back with fake platitudes regarding the shit you slung my way just cause now you'd reigned yourself in and decided to ask questions."

Her hip cocked to the right, and she gestured in his direction with her glass.

"And that you damn well shoud've that's for sure. Trusted me. Mighty grateful to know when push comes to shove just where your first 'pinons of me lie." if words could rent flesh, the ones she said would, paying back a pound of flesh, Judah had carved out her hide with the words he'd spat at her earlier. It had hurt, and it hurt deep, having Judah lash out to her like that. Was she so untrustworthy? After all these years. After all that she'd done? It made her wonder. Wonder if Judah ever really trusted her at all. Because if she could make a terrible decision for her own daughter, what's to say he even trusted her at all with Makai.

That stung. Like a son-of-a-chuta.

She brought the lowball back to her lips, taking another deep swig of the vice, wishing to the nine hells it wasn't the damn good stuff so she could've felt the burn from the back of her throat to the pit of her stomach.

"What do I intend to do about the situation? To shield Myra? To stop Blythe's tongue from waggin'?" the redhead echoed, her voice incredulous, as if she and Alric hadn't gone over piece by piece what could be done.

"As if it were that easy," Her full-hipped walk had her amble her way back to her desk, moving past Judah in a stride that evoked exactly just how much irritation and anger was rolling through her voluptuous form.

"Myra don't want us to do anythin'. To leave it be. Says Blythe won't be an issue and that on the greater scope of things, few are likely to believe what he says anyways."

She slammed her glass on the desk with enough force that the amber liquid inside violently sloshed left to right.

"Banthashit if you asked me, but she was in no state to argue with." Seeing that glassy-eyed stare in Myra's eyes, that desperation was a familiar sight that tugged at Danger's heartstrings and evoked the mighty hard need to comfort and hold her daughter in her arms and tell her it would be alright. That Danger would take care of it.

"There ain't nothin' as emasculatin' and as powerless as hearin' your little girl beg you to promise her not to give Blythe De'Maar exactly the due that is owed to him. " If it were her, Danger would have chopped off Blythe's hands, broken his knees, and thrown him naked down a Sarlaac pit so he could digest nice and slow and have plenty of years to understand the type of reckoning he got.

Danger placed the flat of her hands on the surface of her desk, leaning forward, shoulders raised, staring at Judah with that piercing emerald gaze, daring him to devise a solution to the current vexation.

"So why don't you tell me, Judah. Just what you'd done in my place instead?"

 

[Judah Dashiell]

Judah watched as she grew more incensed with him. For his part, he remained seated, listening as she explained. Brow quirked at her mention of his opinion of the Trade Queen being one of a lie. Where was this coming from? Were they talking about Myra or suddenly about Danger as well?

Then the lowball glass was slammed on the desk, liquid sloshing around as she did so. Yes, clearly there was something more at play. Vexation at her inability to shield Myra mixed with his perceived betrayal of not trusting her. Of not believing in her judgment.

His own lowball glass was set down carefully on the small table between the two chairs. Suit jacket was adjusted as he stood, striding the small distance to the desk.

Judah matched her expression, palms coming to rest on the textured desk, body leaning forward to face her. They were inches apart, sapphire meeting emerald as he spoke.

"You can huff and puff and work yourself into a mighty fine rage, can't you?"

Voice was low as he spoke, leveling with the Trade Queen.

"I should trust you? I do. My opinion of you is beyond reproach. If you would stop working yourself up and bringing your feelings into this you would be clear to see this is all about Myra, not Danger Arceneau."

Judah didn't move an inch as he continued.

"What I would do? I would have already handled the situation, despite what Myra wishes. Its clear she's not in a position to be thinking straight. That's evident by wanting to protect the swine bastard from the treatment he very well deserves. By this point I would have broken both of Blythe's hands to prevent this from happening to another girl."

"You know what I also would have done, Miss Arceneau? I might have informed one of my closest friends about the situation before he had to find out from Casteel Mer'taal in public. To be blind sided as both of us came up with a plan to ensure Myra is not left alone at any event she attends."

"After everything I've been around for, this was the one thing you drew a line on? The one thing you thought, hey, maybe I don't need his help with. He certainly won't hear it second hand anywhere else, standing open gaped like a fish as he hears blow-by-blow without warning?"

"So get off your high bantha about who doesn't trust who and join us down here in reality, Miss Arceneau."

 

[Danger Arceneau]

“So get off your high bantha about who doesn't trust who and join us down here in reality, Miss Arceneau."

Danger could count on one hand the number of folk who had the balls to get this close to her face and level with her like Judah did. One she married after a persistent courtship to gain her forgiveness for his betrayal. The other, well, was the farm boy turned corporate executive standing before her.

The one she had locked away all manner of disconcerting thoughts no woman of merit should've had for a married man deep in the recesses of her mind.

Emerald bore into oceanic blue. At this distance Danger could see the thick fringe of lashes that shrouded his eyes, see that his irises were not entirely a single deep blue hue but an oceanic ombré quality. It made her think of how Myra had described Makai's eyes before. Pretty. They were entirely too pretty.

Every low, deliberate word he spoke fanned the scent of Tavraki whiskey, earthy cigars, edged in the aroma of amber, oud, vanilla bean, and mahogany. His beard oil perhaps? Did it matter? At this distance Judah was downright disconcerting and it was affecting her. More so than the huff and puff he so accused her of working herself into a fine frenzy.

Ain't hiding the subtle widening in those feline eyes, the dilating of her pupils enhancing the vibrancy in the verdant forests of her eyes where a wild fire raged. Nor the hitch of breath that held before it broke. Red blooded woman that she was didn’t mean she was dead.

There it was. That Dashiell quality to be the calm in the storm. Like a gorram Taun Taun whisperer, murmuring low and saying things just right to leverage things his way, find the solution, skip the dramatics.

It irked her as much as it made her appreciate his abilities and backwater charm. Got under her skin. He always had. Ever since that initial yacht trip with Makai.

However, as much as he was right regarding that she was bleeding her own sentiments into this, that he held her above reproach, and that the focus should be Myra's situation, Danger couldn't get past his very deliberate use of Miss Arceneau instead of Danger.

Calling Judah by his first name had taken time for Danger to use. She kept folk at bay by calling them politely by their title or their surname. Using Judah's name had been a risk, but an attempt to connect with him. At that time in their past, she’d been mulling their here and now and what came after; where they'd been and where they'll be. He’d deserved being addressed by his name after all that time. Now he was using her methods against her. Drawing a line in the sand.

Oh did that vex her something good.

They were playing Nuna fight and she'd be damned if she'd back off now knowing he was doing that on purpose. Or hell, she could be completely wrong, and Judah was right, her emotions were entirely painting her perspective now.

As it was, what was good for the goose was also good for the gander. And at this distance there was no ignoring the sultry scent of magnolias and whiskey flowing from her direction, nor the scent of those clove cigarillos she preferred. One could even catch the faint scattering of freckles Danger tried hard to hide. Sure, she had more laugh lines at the corners of her eyes, but she was still a striking woman. More so when one took into consideration how being angry flattered her.

"My, what a splendid idea, Mistah Dashiell. I'd have also have broken his knee caps and sent him straight to the sarlacc pit to consider his reckoning." Chin lifted in defiance, face up lifted as she narrowed her gaze, canting her head to the right.

"But let me be clear, Mistah Dashiell. That I did let you know things were going on with Myra and that I couldn't get into it. That I'd explain later. Why do you think I canceled our last meeting? I had to take Myra away to help her recuperate and get the therapy she needs. After all, this is all about Myra. " Her fingers went curling up to scratch the wood, nails making a slight creaking sounds in their wake.

"Pardon me oh so much for the delay and bein’ unable to drop everythin’ to give you a play by play of the events as it unfolded— like I'd been intendin’ to catch you up today." Emerald fire flashed in her eyes.

"So Mistah Dashiell, after everythin’ that I've been around for, reckon I'd ‘spected a bit of grace from one of my closest friends." Danger ran her tongue over her full lips, adding with that throaty twang and curl of her upper lip in retaliation. Where Judah was cool and deliberate, Danger was all passion and barely contained rage.

"So why don't you get off your high bantha regarding who don’t trust who and get back to reality, Mistah Dashiell. I ain’t the one drawing lines in the sand regardin’ what's personal or not."

 

[Judah Dashiell]

Most were attracted to Danger Arceneau due to her sheer beauty, but not him.

Naturally, he thought the Trade Queen was beautiful for the same reason countless other men and women in the galaxy did. Curves that rivaled the highest mountain peaks. Pouty full lips.Legs anyone would would be begging to be on the receiving end of being wrapped around. Firey red hair that matched her personality.

Yet he was attracted to what most didn't see or didn't care to appreciate. Danger had no qualms about calling him out, challenging the situation, rocking the boat. It spoke to a deep, burning pit of emotions and care that lay below the surface, revealed to those who were only privileged to be on a first name basis with the Trade Queen.

It showed she cared. That she was willing to risk it all to protect what was hers and what was right. A desire to keep what was hers safe and close, a nurturing quality over anything she tucked under her wing and declared hers.

Judah had seen it with himself. He had seen it with Makai.

It was more attractive to him than any amount of cleavage or honey drawl could ever be.

He leaned in closer and lips met a swath of her cheek. There was the scent of her clove cigarillos and whisky, sure, but also a sensual magnolia and something spicy-sweet he just couldn't put his finger on. Something distinctly Danger Arceneau.

Judah pulled back slightly, voice low.

"Are we done fighting over the girl now?"

The old salvager straightened, moving away from his position of leaning over the desk so close to the Trade Queen once those uttered words had held in the air for moment.Danger was a married woman after all and while he considered himself to have excellent self-control, in this situation he knew it would crumble fast and quick.

Sapphire and emerald met again, holding briefly before he looked away, suddenly finding the whorls and textures of the desk fascinating.

"So, how can I help with Myra, if anything?"

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Are we done fighting over the girl now?"

It wasn’t the first time Judah kissed her cheek. By this time around, gestures of affection were common place. A warm hug and kiss on the cheek in welcome and goodbye. The friendly arm over the shoulder or the courteous but respectful press of a hand at her lower back when ushering her through a door. Even the rare times a gala required dancing, their low quips and easy going commentary flowing as natural as rain.

There was a reason why the tabloids and folk would wonder if there was something more between them or some salacious loofah club membership. Yet that wasn’t the case. Never had been.

Timing just had never been right.

By the time Danger recognized she’d been falling for Judah for more than just due to his little boy that had stolen her heart, the Queen of Trade had done her best to keep those wandering thoughts at bay. Men like Judah Dashiell are a rare breed, and everything that had attracted Danger to the salvager was exactly why she couldn’t cross the line. Loyal, faithful, hardworking, a man of honor and rare valor, with those old time values that most would consider backwater but that Danger knew well their worth was worth their weight in Aurodium.

He’d been a man doing his damnest to make his marriage work with a wife who could only run away. A stubborn love yes, but he was committed. In love. Ready to do anything to get her back.

Danger could only respect that and hope and pray Thessa Kai would realize her mistake.

Seeing that sort of dedication had only highlighted the sheer loneliness and emptiness her own life had held. For all her determination to not play second fiddle and keep folk at bay, it only served to enhanced just how painfully empty her life so would be if she continued so.

Oh sure, Makai was the apple of her eye and she loved him as her own, but he wasn’t really. Nor was his father. Should his wife return then odds were that both would see her less and by then… that would have been a heartbreak Danger may not have ever recovered from. Shortly after that Alric returned a broken man, and Danger did what she did best; mother henned him into recovery. Held him close. Showed him that he still had plenty to give to his daughters and life left to live. The charm and incessant pursue by the Tetan had done its job well. At that point Danger had come to terms with the role of being the spice in a man’s life. She may not be Alric’s great love like he had for Silara, certainly Danger settled on that. But there was no denying the affection he held for her and the companionship he gave. For that Danger was grateful.

But what if’s and maybes never did anyone any good. As it was, that small act by the elder Dashiell served well enough to diffuse much of her ire, knocking the wind out of her unfurled sails.

Again, with mere quiet subtle actions turning the tide to his favor. Danger felt as if she’d been worked. Had to give it to him. After all, after all these years, Judah knew her well.

Too well.

Closing her eyes she took a deep breath, steadying her nerves. Bad idea as the scent of Judah still lingered and her traitorous thoughts wandered. A dangerous path for a married woman and a for a friendship she held so very dear.

Yet she couldn’t help a last parting shot, opening her eyes to add as Judah straightened, watching him pull away, their eyes catching briefly before that oceanic gaze fell.

"Reckon that ‘pends if you got all that piss and vinegar out of your system. Best do it now lest it fester."

She rather get it over with before wadding through what thoughts and plans she’d come up with to try and conduct damage control while reigning Blythe in other ways. Methods that perhaps would best be done with Judah's help.

 

[Judah Dashiell]

"Reckon that ‘pends if you got all that piss and vinegar out of your system. Best do it now lest it fester."

"Is that so?" Judah murmured, mulling over her proposal. Eyebrow raised at the thought, knowing it would lead to nothing but more heartache. Would it shed more light on his outburst? Perhaps.

Silently he picked up the platinum cigarillo case off the desk, selecting one of the cylinders from the end and placing it in his mouth. Case was returned to the desk, the cigarillo soon lit as he thought about her words. His actions.

"You know, maybe I just care too damned much about something that isn't even mine. You have a husband. Myra has a father. Yet here I am, fired up like a Loth-cat dunked in water. Loyalty? Friendship? I'm sure it all plays a part, plays a role in my actions towards the situation."

A deep drag of the cigarillo, one hand moving to sink into his pocket, a relaxed posture in front of the desk as he spoke.

"Or maybe I just forgot my place. Sometimes when I look at you..."

Voice trailed off. He had been so close. In hindsight he should have taken the chance. Yet how was one supposed to know the future? Was he supposed to bend and break his morals for a chance that may have not gone anywhere? To ruin the chance of a mother figure in Makai's life? The choice had been fraught, not taken lightly, and debated by a younger man with a large weight on his shoulders.

"I'm reminded that I have no place to intercede, of my foolishness twenty years ago. If I consider it for too long....well, there is no comfort in what-ifs and maybes and could have beens. In this situation it just got under my skin, fueled by what happened to a child I nearly consider my own, I just lost it."

The perceived inaction had set him off more than anything - concern for Myra had mixed with what he would do as a father in the same situation regardless of the girls wishes. It stung, reminding him there was a line in the sand he wasn't able to cross.

There was always a clear line in the sand when it came to Danger Arceneau. He didn't trust himself not to have one in place.

"Have you ever considered, Danger, that we are exactly the perfect people for one another? However, its always the wrong place. The wrong time. The missed opportunity with us."

A humorless smile graced his features.

"I hope in the next lifetime the universe is a little kinder. I'll be waiting."

 

[Danger Arceneau]

"You know, maybe I just care too damned much about something that isn't even mine. You have a husband. Myra has a father. Yet here I am, fired up like a Loth-cat dunked in water. Loyalty? Friendship? I'm sure it all plays a part, plays a role in my actions towards the situation."

"Or maybe I just forgot my place. Sometimes when I look at you..."

Maybe Danger knew, before Judah spoke, that the piss and vinegar he had left wasn't going to be the sort that fed on anger. Spend enough time 'round a man; odds were, you'll learn his ticks and tells. Much like she had before when that subtle clench of Judah's jaw served as his tell regarding the brimstone and fire that was boiling underneath. This time around, it was the tone in his voice, the avoidance of her eyes, the way he stood. What you saw is what you get with Judah Dashiell. No frills, no mask. Just an honest reflection.

See, Judah was the type of man that would look you in the eyes. Stare right through you. Honest is as honest does; for the elder Dashiell, he was always upfront regarding his dealings. In Danger's experience, she always had a way of pinpointing what lay simmering underneath. What was good for the boardroom was good in the bedchamber, and the majority of men fell in one of either category.

Judah was the exception.

It would take little for Judah to notice. Every single one of his words was affecting Danger. From the faint tremble on her fingers as she straightened from the desk. How she brought the narcotic back to her lips, taking another deep drag to ignite her cigarillo with a bright cherry glow.

Danger thought back to the beginning. While Judah's proposal had pulled the Trade Queen's interest in that first SSB Auction years ago, something about him reminded her of her backwater roots. That sheer honest ambition to get his business up and running. That farmboy charm. Perhaps that was why she had talked Salacia up at that Levantine Sanctum summit. She had no reason to do so, to wax poetic on Ceto Shipyards, but she had. Willingly, much to Judah's wary musings and then his subsequent but respectful manner on just where she could keep her disclosures regarding the status of her underthings.

He'd amused her then. He surprised her, too. It didn't take long for his character, morals, and values to shine through that grew on her.

"I'm reminded that I have no place to intercede, of my foolishness twenty years ago. If I consider it for too long....well, there is no comfort in what-ifs and maybes and could have beens. In this situation it just got under my skin, fueled by what happened to a child I nearly consider my own, I just lost it."

What-ifs, maybes, and could have beens. Danger knew those verses as intimately as a prayer and lived them as a curse.

Did Judah have no place to intercede? Some might say those words held some validity. Some not. Honestly, Danger reckoned that the lines Judah and Danger had drawn on the sand had eroded here and there like the bluffs on Beggar's canyon. Time had a way of doing that. As did the unique quasi-familial relationship their families had managed to create as the years passed by.

Danger couldn't blame him. She'd be just as heated were it Makai in Myra's place. Had been back in Maremere, where odds were Judah had only considered her a close business associate with a warm interest in his son.

After all, had Danger any right to insert herself into Judah's and Makai's lives in the wake of Thessa Kai's absence? No. Had Judah given her the grace to enter? Yes. But did she have a right to intercede in their lives, to speak her peace as she did back then, worried about Makai, Judah's health, and what his wife's absence was doing to them both? It had taken every bit of control not to cross the line Judah had said then regarding his marriage and its status. Evidently, his wife hadn't held Judah and their son to the same level of priority and care. Why would he be so stubbornly chasing a woman who clearly didn't deserve his worth?

Yet Danger didn't. She couldn't for fear of losing Judah and Makai at her intercedings. Judah could very well cut off that precarious, fragile relationship at any moment. At her age then, Danger had been willing to keep them in her life any way she could, unable to but respect the rarity of a man wanting to make his marriage work.

At the time, the redhead couldn't help the jealousy it evoked within her. Seeing such a shameless woman be the object of faithfulness and stubborn loyalty. The bitterness and cynical jadedness that such a woman could hold the love of Judah Dashiell to such a degree, yet all Danger had in return were men who were quick to leave.

As it was, the tabloids back then had plenty to say about it as well; the redhead recalling the series of entertainment gossip columns daring to suggest Judah was setting Danger up as his mistress while no one saw the hair or scale of his wife.

That hadn't been the case. Yet there had been no denying that as each Southern System Expo or Auction there onward, from the moment Danger met Makai, there had been no missing how much the Queen of Trade spent with the seven-year-old son of the salvaged CEO of Salacia Consolidated.

Anyone would question it. Many likely did. There had been no denying that Danger would arrange and change her schedule to the whims of a child calling on her, requesting aide, doting on him as if he were her own. Blooming under the innocent love and affection Makai Dashiell gave ever so willingly to the Queen of Trade.

If Judah's character was the bridge to an amicable business relationship, well, Makai... Makai was the glue. The reed in a weaver's basket, intertwining and interconnecting facets of each other lives in ways that made one wonder. Muse.

Of he. Of She.

Of what-ifs and maybes in the wake of Alric's disappearance and betrayal. Fears of having nothing to give and having so much to lose.

"Have you ever considered, Danger, that we are exactly the perfect people for one another? However, its always the wrong place. The wrong time. The missed opportunity with us. I hope in the next lifetime the universe is a little kinder. I'll be waiting."

Time stops at certain moments in life, taking snapshots of the best and worst. Dreams and wishes fade to nothing, and in the end, a life is totaled and defined by a handful of memories that hang in the mind.

Hearing Judah speak in that low voice, confessing thoughts that the Queen of Trade had mused over many a night, well, Danger found herself with a certain kind of well of emotion she wasn't quite sure how to process.

As long as Danger could remember, her heart had felt the toil and trouble that left her bitter and dispirited. For every credit earned and contract made, it was clear she was walling herself up so tight to prevent anyone from hurting her again. Danger grew used to holding her cards close to her chest and not letting people in. A heart can take a beating only so long before a wounded animal retreats to its den to lick its wounds. That had been the state Alric had found her in after his return. He had been persistent. He had been direct. He may not have considered her the love of his life as he did Silara, but Alric loved her in his own way just the same. Danger had long settled where she stood, what that meant, and she was okay with that. She'd take what she could get. Companionship, affection, friendship. Alric offered her that after doing his best to show how much he'd regretted betraying her trust years back. With a wisdom only age could bring, Danger accepted that and forgave him. His proposal and companionship provided an opportunity to achieve what she'd always longed for: a family of her own.

Say what one might about the Queen of Trade and her abilities in a boardroom, but her protective instincts and mother-henning ways were an extension of the true heart of gold she contained, of the breadth of affection she needed to provide. Be it to a lover, a child, or a family. Those who knew her well enough to be so privileged to see past the cordial veneer knew that she honestly did care for those she called her own and would burn the nine hells for anyone that would dare harm them.

It was why this situation with Myra was just so difficult for her. To hold back, to wait. To let Myra process so that Danger could then set things right. Had it been any other situation with her daughter, Danger would have reacted exactly as Judah had described. Yet the projection of Danger's own experiences had colored her perspective. The redhead knew well how emotions could swing from one extreme to the next, and the last thing she desired was pushing Myra into a situation that would force the younger woman into a lifetime of regrets.

"Have I ever considered..." The low murmur was a poignant drawl of evocative emotions, musings, and melancholia at the dealings life had so deemed to set in front of Danger's life. A flick of the vice sent a scatter of ash onto the ashtray, and a ripple of vulnerability washed over her face. A quirk at the corner of her mouth seemed amused, but the shadows in her emerald eyes indicated a lack of mirth.

Her shoulders rose, the woman taking her glass of whiskey in hand. A quiet drap of her voluptuous body sank Danger onto her leather chair, suddenly needing a sturdier foundation than to risk remaining on her feet.

Momma always said one woman's crumb is another woman's cake. Being who he was by manner and by speech, ain't no wondering that Judah Dashiell was the complete package any woman would be happy to call her own. Sure enough, she'd caught enough sight of a few of those early years cooin' and preenin', flocking to Judah, but perhaps, it might be that Dashiell's oblivious quality or the type of loving that triggers their tunnel vision, but the elder Dashiell would have none of it. No, Judah Dashiell was wed to one woman, and come hell or high water, he would do what he could to ensure he could make it work.

Danger not only took notice but had also found herself wondering just the same. Returning to the present, she raised her hand, letting the low ball glass slowly rock, wrist twirling the amber liquid in her internal musings.

Had it been any other time, she might have lied and said no. Might have risked the possibility of Judah not being able to see through her veneer and left it at that. Oh, there was no denying that Alric had done his best to love and show her the life she'd dreamed of. But it was a life that Danger went in knowing was likely done in gratefulness for her consistency and a need for companionship. It was a form of love regardless. One that allowed them to raise Myra to the young lady she was and to respect each other in their marriage.

But before that. Before Alric's return. Amid the realization of just how alone she'd become, when actions spoke louder and men of their word were few and far between, there was no denying that Danger had fallen for Judah Dashiell back then.

It had come along with the realization and understanding that he could never be hers.

At this point, after the emotional upheaval with Myra, countless hours arguing and debating with Alric what the next steps, trying to figure out what to do next and provide Myra some venue perhaps to explore relationships with a better handle on things, Danger was just too emotionally strung out and exhausted to attempt to bluff. Odds were Judah would realize it anyway and call her out on it, and Danger didn't want another fight. If he was being honest here, then she at least owed him an answer to his query. If this were the one time they would cover this, then so be it.

Lest it fester.

"Momma always said one always had to have a sense of timing." Her soft drawl would continue, rhyme and reason known only to her.

"After all, time and tide wait for no one." a hollow laugh came at that, closing her eyes. Her free hand came up, trembling fingers doing their best to slowly start to massage the throbbing ache between her eyes and over her brows. It was twofold, really, as she could feel the threat of a sting in her eyes grow.

"Judah..." the verdant forest of her eyes opened, pulling her hand away. She carefully studied his relaxed posture as he stood before her desk. From the peppered hair he'd raked back away from his face, the scruffy beard he did his best to keep trimmed, and those oceanic blues, a window to musings of hindsight and possibilities in another life.

"I did. Many times." came her admission, a rarity for the redhead, to make herself so vulnerable. To risk. Would this change their relationship? Would he see her differently then?

Ah, there we go. That fear that arose. That's enough of that now. Danger would let the Dejarik pieces land where they may.

A ghost of a smile drew over her lips.

"I've done told you time and again, you are a man any woman would cherish, with a boy any mother would love." the glass of whiskey came to her lips, and she took a long swig, feeling the warmth fill her throat and settle in her stomach.

"Those words hold true since the day I told 'em to you on Maramere. " her forefinger began to tap against the rim of her glass, "But you were right. There was a lot back then I didn't know or understand. What I did, though, made me realize what made me fall for you were the very reasons why I couldn't, wouldn't, and shouldn't say."

"You aint' the sort to quit, Judah. You're the sort to fight for what you care for. It takes a man of a certain character to hold onto that kind of love with such ferocity and determination. " Another chuckle at bittersweet humor, "which only made me admire you more."

"As it was, I knew where I stood and was okay with it. I've long settled that I'm meant to be the spice in a man's life, not the main course."

"So I'll tell you what I told you back then; I'll be here for whatever you need." there was no lie in that.

"I'll take what I can get. In whatever manner you can be in my life. That hasn't changed Judah." a pause, then a sigh. She was far too old and too tired to make excuses anymore. What's done is done.

"I'll love you and Makai just the same." that was the truth.

 

[Judah Dashiell]

"As it was, I knew where I stood and was okay with it. I've long settled that I'm meant to be the spice in a man's life, not the main course."

“One could argue you’ve been the main course in my life for the last twenty years. You just didn’t know it.”

Judah didn’t have a propensity for married women. Never would break up a happy home, nor would he place himself in a position to make Danger uncomfortable. When push came to shove, if it came between their friendship and her husband, the answer was obvious. Losing his closest friendship because he couldn’t control his feelings was his greatest fear.

So he had tamped them down tight. Locked them away and kept them close to his chest. It had been difficult to do so, especially when he watched her dote over Makai throughout the years. There was something particularly magnetic about seeing her mother over his son without a second thought, filling into a role he had expected his ex-wife to step into.

Hindsight always created perfect vision, and in doing so it was clear his ex wasn’t quite ready to pull back into the role of wife and mother. Judah realized in his excitement to be a husband and father he should have waited, they weren’t prepared for the stress raising the Tadpole had put on their relationship.

Makai had paid the ultimate price for his misstep.

His feelings for Danger at times nearly made him pull back, isolate himself and Makai. Yet by that time the boy was attached. Sleepovers, using ATC facilities like he owned them, the personal comm calls. Hell, even a damned gifted company. Makai had the Trade Queen wrapped tight around his finger and by then it would have been cruel to his boy.

To hear she had similar thoughts at one time brought out a humorless chuckle and a shake of his shaggy head. Time and tide wait for no one indeed.

What would his life have turned out like instead if they both had made a decision? Would Myra be his own? Would they have a horde of impossibly ginger children? He had always wanted a lot of youngins underfoot and Danger had a natural instinct for mother henning. No doubt they would have had enough children for a small sports team.

“I guess I’m now in the position to say the same. Whatever you need, in whatever capacity, I’ll be there.”

Judah thought to his current situation, the Togruta. Azula was fine and well, he liked her but trust was coming slowly. He found himself in some odd in-between of liking the physical companionship and conversations but not trusting her enough to let her in fully. That was evident in many of the answers he gave her, holding back the complete truth or painting half a picture. He didn’t know if he would ever get to that point, of trusting fully - it was something for him that was built up incredibly slowly. Scars left from his marriage may be healed but that didn’t mean the memory of the injury had faded.

“I love you too.” A pause and a genuine smile, a faint echo of her own words. “In whatever manner you need me to.”

Taking a pause to take a long drag on his cigarillo, quiet passed between them. Funny how time had a way of reversing their roles.

“Any more piss and vinegar you need to get out of your system?”

 

[Danger Arceneau]

“One could argue you’ve been the main course in my life for the last twenty years. You just didn’t know it.”

Judah's words broke through Danger's melancholic reverie. Twenty years had gone by, and he challenged her to the argument that she'd had been his mainstay, his sustenance all along-- something she had never fathomed. The realization left her stunned, questioning every assumption she had ever held, for she had never considered that she'd be his central focus, his main course in life's banquet.

There was the faintest quiver along the fullness of Danger's lips at hearing that. Her lids fell to her cigarillo, shielding the emotions that warred within. Feeling a mighty strong urge to gain some intestinal fortitude, the Queen of Trade brought the vice to her lips, a cloud of hazy blue-white smoke used to veil the self-reproach she couldn't help but feel at her wandering traitorous thoughts.

She shut her eyes as if the acrid smoke was too much to bear. Yet it was more than that. By most accounts, her marriage was one many would envy. Indeed, it had done better than Judah and his ex-wife's turmoil. There was respect, affection, and like-mindedness there. Alric would set the 'verse at her feet and, come hell or high water, do whatever he could to ensure her happiness to the best of his ability.

However, there are things a woman knows deep in her heart. And a woman as dispirited as she, Danger knew that regardless of whether Alric told her time and again that he loved her and cherished her, in the rear of her mind, she wouldn't fully believe him. She'd seen the Tetan with Silara, the love of his life, saw how the light shone in those azure eyes, completely changed his persona for the better, the way he completely and utterly loved Silara with every fiber of his being.

While she had never seen Judah and his ex-wife together or saw how the love reflected in his eyes as he beheld her, it was the same sort of love and devotion Judah had displayed in his desperate attempt to save his marriage and salvage his family.

It was the sort of central focus, devotion, and affection Danger had always secretly coveted and wanted to feel for herself. The sad fact was that now, at her age, she was so jaded and cynical regarding that desire that she believed herself incapable of being the recipient of such deep sentiment.

“I guess I’m now in the position to say the same. Whatever you need, in whatever capacity, I’ll be there.

Swallowing hard, Danger did her best to usher over a ghost of a smile. Opening her eyes, she took a deep breath, returning her attention to the elder Dashiell.

Was it terrible to feel such relief at those words? Did it make her such a wicked, weak woman? Did it stain her red with the mark of a fickle wife at the melancholic musings of what could have been if her marriage was one many would envy?

Could she be so terrible to muse? To want? To wish --

No. That's enough now. There lies no fault in any. They all made choices based on the time's circumstances, morals, and ethics. Danger wouldn't want to be framed as the other woman, knowing fully well how that betrayal felt at being the one left behind for another, and Judah, in his steadfast loyalty, would never have considered divorce.

As Judah said, perhaps the universe might be a little kinder in the next life.

I love you too... In whatever manner you need me to.

Looking at him, hearing him state that he would be in her life in whatever capacity, whatever she required, was the balm to the fear she had felt that her confession would've changed his opinion of her. That he loved her. In whatever way she needed him to. Some might suggest reading between the lines, but Danger knew better. Judah means what he says and says what he means. On that, Danger could bet her life -- however, Danger needed him, he'd be there.

Danger could now rest easy on that, knowing Judah would not so easily walk away from her life. A genuine, affectionate smile returned to the redhead's weary visage then.

Taking a pause to take a long drag on his cigarillo, quiet passed between them. Funny how time had a way of reversing their roles.

“Any more piss and vinegar you need to get out of your system?”

"No, not t'all," they'd each say their piece now. Digging any more would breach the line of propriety, and cross a bridge Danger was not willing to make. For all the alleged flaws and adulterous sordid stories the HoloTabolids enjoyed painting her with ever since the Queen of Trade made a name for herself, none were valid. They held not a shred of truth. Danger knew well the wretched sting of betrayal. She respected Alric and Judah too much to risk either of them leaving her life.

Funny was it, the morals and values most considered backwatered to be held to such high regard for the Queen of Trade.

Drawing another deep drag, her shoulders settled, back straightened. "Reckon, we can go straight on what you can help me with. While Alric and I have added additional security and eyes to keep an eye on public events, Myra is wont to take issue with it. It would be a mighty big relief if you could be her escort when Casteel can't."

A purse of her lips came next, and the woman rubbed her forehead.

"I have my investigators trying to find any sort of information that can be pulled up on Blythe that can be used against him. While I can't act directly, I can at least start placing pressure on his neck."

She came to her feet, setting her vice down on the ashtray, blowing a stream of smoke from the corner of her mouth.

"Although I will be frank; having his face punched in and both hands smashed would be even better...if there would be a way to prevent it from getting back to Myra."

 

[Judah Dashiell]

“Of course I will be happy to spend time with her. Casteel and I have already coordinated events and have a plan put into place.”

Ensuring Myra had never been left alone had been paramount for himself and Casteel during their talk in that study not too long ago. Danger may be surprised he already had a plan in place but she shouldn’t be ; it was half the reason he had been fired up, by perceived inaction.

“Easy. Makai and I can do it. I would never say a word and…well….the kids don't talk anymore. No chance of word getting back to Myra as to who did what.”

Judah paused. The issue of his son and Danger’s daughter was a touchy one. The old salvager was still surprised that both kids hadn’t apologized and found their way back as friends yet.

“I recently visited him after he sustained an injury. It was…insightful. I feel if I gave him just an overview of the situation and asked for his word to never mention it Makai would go along with a plan. He has no intentions of ever being in various circles, adding another layer of security.”

The elder Dashiell took a seat back in that leather chair across from the massive desk, back against plush leather as they discussed the plan for Myra, for ensuring her safety. It was how he intended to start their meeting together.

[]

“No, sorry Dad, I’m not coming back to Celestia Station.”

Makai walked alongside his father through the corridors of their Pacanth Reach Outpost. He was staying at the facility for now, recently injured and favoring his right arm, keeping it tucked close to his side. He was in no position to survey at the moment, although he predicted he would be fine in a week or so.

“Are you sure? Come back, start learning the business side even more. Even if you just decided to start simple, say managing the exploration and survey division.”

Judah had been attempting to convince his son to come back for months now. He had offered several possibilities, some working directly with him, some not.

“I appreciate the offer. I really do. I think once I finish surveying here, maybe then we can talk. Build a facility in this region. Let me stay out here, build from the ground up.”

“I‘ll think about the idea in the future. Right now, I think you need to come home and start putting your brain to use. You’re wasting your talents.”

Makai shook his head. Home. That wasn’t something in his vocabulary anymore. He was confident his father wouldn’t understand.

“Home is just a construct. There’s nothing for me to go back to.”

Message after unanswered message had made that abundantly clear. That he wasn’t wanted back in that realm. Why go somewhere he wasn’t wanted? Makai knew if he went to Celestia Station it would only be a matter of time before he ran into her.

“Nice to know I’m nothing.” Judah smiled, knowing what his son had meant behind the words. A long pause before he brought up the next subject. “Maybe its time to reach out and bury the hatchet.”

Makai scoffed in disbelief.

“I’ve reached out several times. Ellie has made it loud and clear she wants nothing to do with me. I even….well….it doesn’t matter anymore. She probably has a boyfriend or something.”

Not responding to his last message had been the death knell for him. It was worse than her shouting at him, worse than any fight or argument they had. It didn’t help he was in a particularly vulnerable spot when he did send it and emotions were running high.

“I’ve heard she is with some young man from Irmenu. Son of a Duke, I am not aware of many details beyond this.”

Thoughts confirmed, Makai gave a grim nod. He swore the pain in his arm and chest throbbed just a little worse upon hearing the news, knife twisting in old wounds.

“Thats….nice…” He thought anything but, yet there was nothing he could do. Go show up on her doorstep? Didn’t even know where she lived. “Hopefully he treats her right.”

[]

Judah took a small drag on his cigarillo, offering a different solution.

“She’s also welcome to stay on Celestia Station. Either in the penthouse next to mine or in Makai’s old room. Maybe she could use a change of venue for a little while.”

 

[Danger Arceneau]

The arch of an auburn brow would quizzingly at Judah's direction. Their easy-going manner of conversation was slowly returning. It was one of many aspects of their friendship she held dear. She took hold of her glass, fingers curling aim a steadier grip, and brought it up to her lips. Before taking a sip, her lips twisted in wry commentary, "Well, well… I see you and Casteel have certainly become close. Only took you six years."

Judah's uncertainty with the young Anaxian Casteel Mer'taal Companion had been evident to the Queen of Trade for some time. He hadn't broached it to any extent, but she knew he didn't quite comprehend her end goal. Perhaps, to some degree, it was due to the same protective father figure feelings towards Myra he had so passionately displayed earlier.

As for staying at Celestia. “Myra may like staying’ at Celestia for a bit.” A sigh and another run of her fingers over her brow.

“Honestly Judah… what I really need is someone to talk to her. She ain’t gonna open up to me or Alric like she would to you.. or like Makai before. I know she ain’t tellin’ us the whole truth.”

Her hands dropped and she set her glass back down on the desk.

“She trusts you… maybe remindin’ her you are there might help her open up and start workin’ through her aches.”

Danger had always wondered if she had had the same at nineteen back then, would things have been different?

As for Makai… Danger visibly held some uncertainty regarding that. In her mind, she knew well how Myra had spiraled at his absence, and to be truthful, Danger didn't understand the rhyme or reason. It cut with familiarity, nonetheless, towards what occurred with Noxu, but Danger knew Makai and Myra and figured it wouldn't be anything similar. With how they were, odds were it had something to do with miscommunication, and if any indication came from a previous conversation with Makai, an argument had festered.

"How is Makai doing? He okay?" The few opportunities Danger had to talk with Makai had been comm calls and when she'd been near his survey sites to spend a few hours with him.

Honestly, if things were still tense between Makai and Myra, it might not be best to get him involved. Sure, the kids may not have connected in the last six or so years, but who knew how Makai might take such a situation? Or worse, if Myra found out he had been involved in the formation of a vigilante squad to kick Blythe's ass.

 

[Judah Dashiell]

“Casteel has only recently proved himself to me. Perhaps we’ve both been slow to come around to one another.”

Hopefully the young man would continue to prove his worth. It seemed the ice had finally thawed on the ability to trust and ensure the well being of Myra. If he had doubts before, they had been erased by Casteel’s recent actions.

Judah nodded, listening to Danger’s words about Myra not being able to open up to her parents. He could understand where Danger was coming from, there were many things he had found out secondhand about Makai from the Trade Queen.

Could he have been forthright with his parents when he was the same age? Doubtful.

“I would love to talk to her. Myra has always been one to ask insightful questions, I suspect she will be open to some different perspectives. Or at least willing to listen to myself where she shuts down in front of you and Alric.”

Pausing to take a drink of whisky he had put down during the argument, mulling over on how to get Myra to Celestia Station without it seem he was interrogating her.

“Perhaps she will come over for a bit if I ask her for help. She has been working for Mara TibX, correct? I can ask for her assistance in placement for new refining facilities, the pros and cons.”

He would ask Makai but it was clear in recent conversations the boy wasn’t ready to take the next steps needed to confidently make such choices. Shar’taala was his Director of Mining Operations but he always expected Makai to take the helm upon graduation.

“Fine enough. I came to see him despite his protests otherwise that he was doing well after his injury. He’s been sidelined on an outpost for a bit.”

Judah sighed, swirling his glass, the liquid circling. The elder Dashiell paused, unsure if he should speak his mind. While Danger wouldn’t mind, he also knew she had a propensity to jump to the boys defense.

“Not living up to my expectations, if I can be frank. I’m growing weary of the lone wolf, out on my own shtick. He stated he doesn’t ever want to return to Celestia, the Tingel Arm, or anywhere really.”

A small helpless shrug.

“Apparently home is just a construct.”