Wrong Place

[Qhorin Solas]

--Tatooine; Mos Espa Streets

A symphony of violence rang through the cool night air, and blaster fire echoed in the distance. There was some sort of battle happening deeper in the district, and was spilling out into the outskirts; opposing gangs fighting for territory? The Hutt who had been at the head of the Mos Espa underworld had been slain the night before, and like scavengers squabbling over a corpse, they feuded over the remains of his empire, scrambling for a meaty morsel before the true predators arrived.

Cronos brandished his blade and entered the chaos. Order needed to be restored.

And the dark was stirring...

[member="Solan Charr"]

 

[Aithne Charr]

[member="Cronos Aegir"]

Apparently, telling a gang to Kark off and let their slaves go wasn't common and accepted practice. Well who was he to know about these strange customs that happen on tatooine... ok he honestly wanted them to attack first and the moment the man threw the first punch Solan's entire body moved around it as he put one hand on the top of his lower arm and the bottom of his upper on. With a quick, force enhanced movement there was a sickening snap and the man's arm hung from where it had been before. Only this time, completely unresponsive. "Opps... now, about letting those slaves go..." Then came the blaster bolts.

Solan barely had the time to get behind something as a barrage of blasterbolts were sent his way, the smell of energy hitting stone feeling his senses. Almost like it was somehow melting the stone but not completely. It was hard to explain when he was being shot at so frequently. "Now if you all lower the weapons, i promise i won't hurt you... much... ok you will get to live." This is what Cronus would see upon entering the area as solan removed the two blasters he wore at his hips and breathed in. He was more than ready to turn the corner and fire in the next few moments.

 

[Qhorin Solas]

He slipped through the chaos, more ghost than man, a golden whir the only sign of his passage. He came upon a group of gangsters shooting round after round into a section of walling, as if attempting to melt through. They were a motley bunch, a mix of species, one with an arm hanging limp by his side.

Cronos dispatched them as he came upon them, sheering through their blasters like a vibroknife through bantha cheese, quick, effecient, and relentless. He swept out with a hand and sent the men careening into the wall they'd been shooting, and looked to the Force for the source of a brief spike of the dark side that brought him here...

[member="Solan Charr"]

 

[Aithne Charr]

[member="Cronos Aegir"]

Solan blinked as the blasterfire stopped and he turned his head around the corner to look at the face of a oddly haired man. "Interesting hair...." His eyes went more to the saber and he sighed as her smiled. It was just a Jedi, good, he had been worried for a moment there that some Sith had decided to come after him for some reason. "So, where were we... hmm. Oh yes, thank you for the help. Good to meet you, and have a nice day."

His hands returned the blasters to their holsters and he smiled as he started to move towards the doorway, grabbing a credit out of his wallet and putting it in Cronus's hand as he walked by, obviously the one without the saber in it. Solan was a bit confident, the problem was that he was so because he did not think Cronus would try to attack him.

 

[Qhorin Solas]

The gangsters hadn't been shooting at the wall, but the man behind it. The dark sider. He seemed strangely relieved to see Cronos. The blond knight didn't understand why -- did this dark sider think him a fool? Cronos new the dark side's touch, new its flavor, and this man, whoever he was, stunk of it.

The man holstered his blasters and walked towards Cronos, reaching into his wallet to pull out... a credit?! He stared down at the credit in his hand for but a moment before he tossed it aside. He reached out with the Force, grabbed hold of a loose stone, and launched it at the man's feet to trip him up and let his intentions be known. He was a fighter, and so he would fight.

"Enough of your games," said Cronos. "I know what you are." He backed away a few steps and settled into a moderate stance, neither offensive nor defensive. "Prepare yourself." He was done with warnings.


[member="Solan Charr"]

 

[Aithne Charr]

[member="Cronos Aegir"]

He blinked and turned his head over his shoulder, staring at the face of the jedi for a few moments. He smiled wider and wider, staring at him for a while before speaking. "Little Jedi, i really hope that you plan to run. I already had to deal with those creatures that you sent scampering and i don't feel like beating on a Jedi today so take your credit and go say hello to the Grandmaster for me. I am sure she looks as vibrant as ever."

He turned and faced Cronos before crossing his hands over his chest and waiting for the man to react, if it came to it his Krath warblade was still on his back and he could pull it free in a moment if need be. But he really was not in the mood to fight a jedi over the same boring thing that they always talked to him about. It was like none of them told eachother. 'Hey, you know that Solan Charr guy, ya hes ok. Don't try to kill him.'

 

[Qhorin Solas]

Words were wind, and Cronos didn't care to banter back and forth. He was a man of action. Words had there uses, but here, now? The dark sider might as well have been talking to a wall. Perhaps, if the man had chosen different words, Cronos might not have been so inclined to attack him. Perhaps, if he had made clear who he was, instead of spewing drivel, Cronos might have let him be.

But he didn't.

Cronos settled into a stance, body angled sideways, knees bent just so, feet shoulder width apart. He held his blade parallel to the ground, angled to skewer the dark sider through the chest, if he but thrust his blade forward. The Force thrummed in his veins. Power coiled inside of him, tightly leashed and controlled. He would return this dark sider to the Force and continue on.

He didn't move, he didn't blink, he didn't so much as twitch. A dial on his lightsaber twisted, and as quick as a blink -- quicker, even -- the blade stretched from a length of five feet to fifteen feet. In the end, he didn't have to move to skewer the man through his chest.

Talk with a blade through your chest, he thought.


[member="Solan Charr"]

 

[Aithne Charr]

[member="Cronos Aegir"]

The extending blade was not something he had counted on and he did not move fast enough to escape injury as the blade cut through his left arm. It wasn't a strike through the arm itself, but a deep enough cut that the pain erupted up the nerves and curved their way into his brain. It was completely amazing he didn't just lose his arm but he didn't have the time to worry about that as his hand dropped the saber from his right sleeve and activated it. His breathing was already hard from the pain which he closed his eyes to.

In a moment his aura expanded, pain fear and anger seeping from him and from the memories of everyone he had killed or seen die, including the Genocide of Makeb. His smile grew as the pain in his left arm began to disappear with his hands tightening into fists, the right one closed around his saber. "Last chance Jedi, i really don't want to deliver you back to the grand master with something missing or with you knocked out..." He let out a breath as the aura became physical, tendrils of dark energy moving from him and curling around him on the ground. "I wont hold back..."

 

[Qhorin Solas]

The dial turned back, and the blade returned to it's normal length, which was still longer than the standard. Cronos felt the dark stirring. It was familiar, seductive, and foul. It reminded him of the man he used to be, reminded him that even now, even as a Jedi, he wasn't completely free of it. Perhaps he never truly would be.

Inky black tendrils coiled around the dark sider. Cronos was equally unimpressed and excited. The physically visible tendrils spoke of some measure of skill. He had faced greater villains before. The man on Kashyyk came to mind; he had been a true master of the dark side. This one was more akin to the Sith Cronos had faced on Gromas 16. The Jedi, then an Inquisitor, had claimed the Sith's arm, mercy staying his hand from delivering death.

And this one spoke of holding back, as if he should be intimidated?

"If you hold back, you'll die." It wasn't neither threat, nor curse, nor promise. It was fact.

Cronos gathered his energies. Sounds of blaster fire echoed nearby, and someone sprinted past like a blur. There was shouting, and yelling, then a great rumble, as if an explosion had gone off. The violence in the district was escalating.



[member="Solan Charr"]

 

[Aithne Charr]

[member="Cronos Aegir"]

"Hmm..." He shrugged, all seriousness gone from his face though the intensity of the aura remained as did the tendrils. "Oh well, guess you guys had some backtalking classes. Good to see people like Kian working on that." He smiled and without hesitating he threw his body into a full blown charge, no fancy tricks, no hidden weapons. A straight forward attack with the tendrils being drawn back behind him and acting like his shadow as he seemed... excited. Sure he didn't want to hurt the guy too badly, but he was being rather rash so if he had too he supposed he could fight him. Didn't mean he was going to be easy on the man... infact it was maybe that reckless nature that he liked, and that meant he was going to have to be harsher on him.

The first strike wouldn't be overly hard to counter, his body lunging in as he made sure to keep his balance. The hot blade of plasma aimed for his shoulder but even if it hit, the blade would not pierce. He had it on a training setting after and what reason for... well simply he was curious. Watching carefully the wrist and the shoulder rather than the blade itself as he knew that was suicide. A body could tell you the placement of a strike before their user even thought to do it. This could be counted by inventive ways to use the blade which he would later but he was not sure how this man fought. So for now he would watch, why not lose for the first minute, figure out what this man's weakness are and then clean house and knock this man on his ass.

 

[Qhorin Solas]

The dark sider, with his black tendrils trailing behind him like a cape, lunged at Cronos, thrusting his blade to pierce the Jedi's --

Front shoulder?!

For the briefest of moments, at the start of the lunge, Cronos was confused. Had he not revealed the second phase of his saber? Another flick of the dial and the dark sider would impale himself. But as he drew ever nearer, and the distance between them lessened, Cronos found that he wouldn't need to activate the second phase to skewer the man. The dark sider seemed intent on doing so himself -- to get at Cronos' shoulder, the dark sider would have to go through Cronos' blade, which was still brandished before him in his outstretched arm, parallel to the ground.

He hadn't moved since settling into his stance, and he didn't move now. He didn't have to.

But, if the dark sider wizened up and batted Cronos' blade aside, or stepped around it instead of rushing forward, the former Inquisitor would shuffle backward with a quick two step, grip his blade in two hands, and, using tight, almost rigid footwork, step back in to unleash a sweeping lateral blow aimed at his foe's saber, followed by a quick back-snap of his blade to take advantage of the open space and carve a horizontal line across his chest.

[member="Solan Charr"]

 

[Aithne Charr]

[member="Cronos Aegir"]

Solan was not having a good day, its a good thing he did think ahead instead of impaling himself. Did these guys drug him before hand or did the hand of fate (coughthewriter) just get tired and bring about something stupid. We could probably assume both at this point though had that same hand of fate not woken back up.

As he came in range and instead of doing something that would get him impaled he stopped and drew his blade in to bad his blade to the side as he would then set his feet. What came next was...well something he should have expected but had not expected to come as quick as it did. Granted he was able to move his hands quick enough to redirect the first strike downwards and off to the side but the horizontal one caught him completely off guard as it collided with his saber was sent flying from his hands. The only reason he would not be remaining there to be skewered was he immediately jumped back the moment his saber was sent flying and his body landing off balance for a moment. Ten seconds in and he lost his saber, great. Sighing he reached up over his shoulder and pulled the blade from his back.

It was a Krath War Blade, sure a weapon created from the darkside but that is what Solan used after all. With a breath in he smiled and stared daggers at the Jedi with a laugh. "Buddy, really not in the mood to be killed, and nor am i in the mood to kill someone. So ill give you one last chance. Leave now before someone has to clean up the blade that you will spill..." His hands tightened on the hilt of the sword, his aura retreating completely into him as the tendrils vanished but the amber color of his eyes grew.

 

[Qhorin Solas]

More words. Cronos didn't think he'd ever encountered a dark sider who was so enamoured with the sound of his own voice. Perhaps he was compensating?

"You fail to grasp the gravity of your situation, dark sider." Cronos backed away, step by step, to the section of wall that bore the still smoking scars of blaster fire. He reached into the Force, focused his intent, and like cracks in a glass, a vast web of splintering faultlines manifested across the stone. He saw them not with his eyes, but something else, something deeper. He'd used this power before, and to great effect. He was no master at perceiving Shatterpoints, at discerning them, but something so objective as the weaknesses in a wall were well within his abilities.

He focused his will into a single point, the center of the mass, and pressed. The wall crumbled.

He raised his hand, and as one, the mass of stone lifted into the air. He waved his hand forward, and, as if they'd been shot from pistols and cannons, the gathered debris rocketed towards the dark sider, dozens of chunks of sandstone in sizes that ranged from small enough to fit in a child's hand to large enough to crush skulls and break bones.



[member="Solan Charr"]

 

[Aithne Charr]

[member="Cronos Aegir"]

"What are you do-" Then the wall cracked, no the wall splintered like a board of would hit with the blast of a shockwave. What made worse was the stones didn't fall, no they rose. "You have got to be kidding." He ran, screw trying to avoid that and as they came at him one whistled pasted his head. 'Not good...' He wouldn't be able to outrun them, and if that wasn't possible then he would have to redirect them. It would be hard but his feet stopped as he planted them into the ground and thrust out his hands.

For a moment his aura grew wider than it had before, enveloping him in a shroud of darkness as he drew off all the pain, suffering, fear, hate, anger, passion and etc that resided in this part of the area. His mind also dug and pulled out the deaths of makeb, the memories of the thousands of souls in pain, the dying the regret the sorrow. His eyes burned their amber color, his skin paled to such a degree that he looked like he would kill over as his teeth were clenched. He felt all of that as if it were his own. The price of his empathy and using it.

And thus as the first stone came it impacted on a cone shaped telekinetic barrier infront of him, almost like the magnetic layers of a planet it peeled back a layer and went to the side. Stones continued to hit it though, slamming into the point and causing Solan to yell out in pain or falling off to the side and relieving him of a direct hit. He had such a trouble maintaining this in the best of conditions that even now his legs fell to the ground but he kept his hands up. He was shaking, blood coming from his nose as his body was being drained of its stability too in trying to keep himself alive. He was not going to die, not now, and certainly not to a Jedi of all people. 'I really need to type a letter to their temple at this rate...' He joked while in pain... it was the only thing keeping him sane.

 

[Qhorin Solas]

The dark sider created a barrier to shield himself from the telekinetic barrage. The show of power was impressive, though Cronos himself might have just taken cover. The man's skin turned ashen as he pulled deeply from the dark side, summoning a great wealth of negative emotions that made Cronos' fresh crawl. Blood dripped from the man's nose. Shadows blossomed along the walls and skittered across the ground like a wave of black spiders. A sense of foreboding settled over Cronos, and his skin broke out in gooseprickles.

The barrier proved too taxing to sustain for long, and when there were no more stones to throw, it fell, and the shadows receded. Cronos brandished his blade, preparing to deliver the finishing blow --

And then, for the third time, the dark sider spoke of the Jedi as if he was familiar with them. Cronos had suspected it all to be a charade, a lie, but the third mention in as many minutes gave him pause. He sensed no duplicity from the man, but the dark side had fooled greater Jedi than him. Had he made a mistake? True, the dark sider hadn't attacked him, but... but...

The former Inquisitor lowered his blade, tilting his head as he regarded the dark sider. He hid his confusion behind a frown. "This is the third time you've mentioned the Jedi. Why? Why haven't you attacked?

"What are you playing at?"

[member="Solan Charr"]

 

[Aithne Charr]

[member="Cronos Aegir"]

He blinked, the assault had stopped and now the Jedi was talking. Thank the force for that because he wasn't even sure if he would have been able to fight any more. His hands stabilized him as he tried to stand but every muscle would not respond to him so he remained where he was. Well, he supposed he would just have to explain on his knees rather than standing for now as his breath escaped him. He had to deal with the blood first before he spoke, bringing the fabric of his shirt up to his nose and wiping clear the blood that had trailed.

"The reason i speak about the Jedi is i really need to get something inn your damned temple telling people im not a threat. I mean after the fourth guest ive had and numerous times i fought to help you guys, you would think i wouldn't be attacked on site. I mean, its not that hard." He reached out and pull his saber to his hand slowly, its form rolling over the ground rather than levitating towards Solan. He was tired, that much was clear and he breathed in as he had to put everything he had into getting the blade over his shoulder and into the scabbard.

"Name's Solan Charr, incase you still feel like deciding to kill me."

 

[Qhorin Solas]

He was a... friend of the Jedi?

Cronos dropped his head, ashamed. He had jumped to conclusions without all the facts, and in the process, might have killed a man undeserving of death. "No," he began as he looked back up, "I have no desire to kill you. You have my sincerest apologies, Solan Charr." And he meant it. He deactivated his saber and clipped it to his belt. "My name is Cronos. Cronos Aegir." He took the opportunity to look around at the carnage. There was rubble everywhere, and the men he'd dispatched earlier still lay slumped in the dirt, dead to the world.

"A word of advice, if you should ever again find yourself under assault by another such as myself... Perhaps, instead of snark and sarcasm, you might simply state who you are? That in no way absolves me of my grievous error, and again, I apologize, but..." He shrugged. "Maybe we would have been able to avoid this misunderstanding."

He walked over and thrust out a hand to help Solan to his feet. Their fight had been brutal, but quick. In the streets beyond, the sounds of violence still echoed through the cool night air, and Cronos felt his resolve harden to continue his hunt.

[member="Solan Charr"]

 

[Aithne Charr]

[member="Cronos Aegir"]

He laughed and shook his head as the man felt ashamed. That jus t would not do. HE was correct after all and he had to admit that much. There was alot Solan could have said that would have avoided a fight but he did want to see what this Jedi could do. With a curiosity that was brimming now he wondered what this man could do once more before speaking. "Do not worry, as i had said before this was not the first time it happened. And Sith are even more funny when they attack me out of the blue, they don't even have the justification that you had in my aura being dark. Otherwise they would be hypocri- oh ya. Sith. I forgot." He smiled at the small short joke about how the Sith were nothing more than Hypocrites, but for a moment was silent again before looking to the side.

"Point being Jedi, your mistake is mine and not yours alone so don't beat yourself up over it. Give me another moment or two and i think its about time we mop up the criminals that we let get away. No?" He already did look better, fighting condition maybe not but he was able to slowly push his hands against the ground and straighten his arms till he was atleast standing again.

 

[Qhorin Solas]

"...Are you sure that's wise? Your injuries..." Solan could hardly stand up. He had meant to assuage Cronos' remorse, but seeing him struggle to stand brought the shame rushing back. Some Jedi he was.

"If you are certain that you can continue --" he paused, scanning the Force for the nearest gangsters; there was a concentration of them just four streets down, three seperate groups, it seemed, " -- there is a group nearby." He sharpened his focus, looked deeper, and said, "There is a family trapped in one of the adjacent buildings. There are too many gangsters, and the mother," he centered on her thoughts, "she's too afraid to try to run."

His saber flared back to life. "I'll circle around, attack from the west. You come from the east. We'll trap them between us." Cronos was still skeptical of Solan's health. Still, he asked, "Are you ready?", before dashing off into the night.

[member="Solan Charr"]

 

[Aithne Charr]

[member="Cronos Aegir"]

"Just some internal injuries, nothing major though that i can't fight. I merely need a boost... one moment." He breathed in and his aura reached up into the sky as it started to pull the emotions and feelings of every living being in the area. Death, pain, suffering, sorrow, fear, anger, hate, jealousy. All of it collected into one pull as he then grabbed onto the strands of the force as it flowed by, pulling it around him as well as it grew darker before his own power welled up and started to crack at the seams.

He was pale again, deathly as if he had been cold in the ground for a week. His eyes Amber in color, his breath gone as his veins became dark and visible. He coughed up the blood that had been present before as he stood there, his body working to temporarily heal itselg. His hands coming to the hilt of his blade and gripping it tight as the aura became physical. Tendrils of shadows coalesced and collected around him, piercing him through his own body and wrapping around him. Skin began to evaporate, and then his muscles, and tissue as a cloak of shadows wrapped around him. In the end his body shambled before he looked at the Jedi. What stood infront of him was a cloaked and hooded man, with the face of a skeleton ahnd hands with but bone left. "Shall we..."