There's a moment's pause before Anderson lets out a quiet breath, straightens in her seat, and runs a hand through her hair as she looks away. She's not ashamed of her past, but Judges are hardly encouraged to distinguish themselves as individuals, and given she's already feeling raw and off-balance, it takes a second to gather the truth.

"I grew up in a slum on the edge of the Cursed Earth," she admits. "The irradiated wasteland that covers most of our continent. And I'm a mutant -- a Force user, whatever. I saw how bad things get for the people that the system wants to pretend don't exist. It's the reason I became a Judge. I can't change the system itself, I can't fix the galaxy, but I can make a difference for the people in front of me who thought there was no one out there who cared."

She finally turns back to meet his eyes again. More briskly, she says, "No one's going to if we don't, right? It's been killing me to not do anything since the first time I felt it. It's like hearing someone screaming for help and walking by." She's learned how to do that in order to keep her head down and away from scrutiny, but it's still the hardest thing she ever has to do as part of her job.

Anderson shakes her head. "I can't run off and be a farmer, knowing I didn't even try."