You stand in a room, nearly dark but for the pulse of rhythmic flashes of bright colored lights. Besides your opponent and yourself, you note a large number of bystanders who are sure to take exception to the coming carnage. Then again, knowing this crowd, they could just as easily find entertainment in an old-fashioned brawl. Spanky's is, after all, one of the more fashionable drinking establishments of Karufr.

The patrons seem to be a mix between the scantily clad women hawking their charms and the well-dressed gentlemen eager to part with their hard-earned credits. The odors in the tavern assault your senses and threaten to muddle your reflexes. Among them, you recognize over a dozen various types of stimulants—both legal and illegal—and the heady scent of, what is quite possibly, the most varied collection of liquor this side of the Galaxy.

The tavern itself is fraught with tactical advantages and disadvantages. Designed in the familiar style of all amphitheaters, the floor is slightly slanted toward a central stage where a lithe, twi'lek female is currently dancing. Littered amongst the floor are drink tables, heavily laden with glassware and other potential missiles. Uncomfortable, heavy metal chairs surround each of the tables in a semi-circle, so that the occupant's view of the stage is never hindered. The only exit, aside from the doorway where you stand, is a vaulted staircase—guarded by two very well-dressed, and heavily muscled, gentlemen—leading into parts unknown.

Small bars bracket the tavern on either side, filled with a glittering rainbow of bottles. Whatever is about to go down, you realize it would go down better with a stiff drink.

This seedy pit was nothing new to Solas. After all, he'd spent the better part of a decade bouncing in and out of places like this. He knew this is the kind of place he could find those with power and weak morals. and that is exactly what brought him to this deep into Taldryan territory. The Nekros Syndicate had been busy installing agents within the holdings of the all the clans of the Brotherhood. Now while he normally would pass this mission onto one of his subordinates, Taldryan is a special case, he needed to make sure that his agent could operate undetected by Dark siders and Light siders alike. In order to find this person he had come to a place where men, women, and everything in-between, loosen their lips for the right price and “persuasions”.

Solas took a seat at the central bar and tried to blend in. Well, as much as a six-foot-nine, white haired man with black facial tattoos, can blend in. After some time the bartender came over and placed a drink of Solas. The Sith looked up with a questioning look on his face.

“Courtesy of the gentleman over there.” The bartender pointed behind Solas. Turning around he followed the barkeeper's line of sight and found himself staring into the luminous sapphire eyes of a Quarren. Tilting the glass to the man in a silent salute of thanks, Solas turned back to the bar. He lifted the glass to his mouth and just as the liquid was about to touch his lips he felt a prick in the back of his mind. Something was telling him that he shouldn’t drink whatever was in this glass. He turned to the patron to his left.

“Hey buddy take a taste of this. I think the bartender watered this stuff down.” Solas watched as the man took the glass and gave the contents a quick sniff before taking an experimental sip.

Lexiconus Qor smiled as watched his target silently thanked him for the drink. Hehe, no thank you for making this easy. Wait, he’s not drinking. What is he doing? Reaching out Qor began probing for the man’s mind. Unfortunately all he found was some sort of mental barrier.

What is going on? Why can’t I get in his head? The Quarren watched with concern as the white haired man handed his drink to the guest to his left.

Not good. That stuff’s lethal in small doses and I put a lot in there. He’ll be onto me any second now. Damn it all. Guess I’ll have to move to plan b. He quickly got up and moved to a better vantage point. Bonus of being in this crowded of a place; plenty of cover and places to hide.

Solas watched intently as the man swallowed the drink. Licking his lips as he seemed to be in thought. Suddenly his eyes grew wide before rolling back in his head and toppling off his seat. Solas spun around quickly only to find the seat of the Quarren conspicuously empty. Standing as he scanned the room. Finding nothing he reached out with the Force, but all this did was frustrate him, as there was just too many people here for him to easily identify the offender.

“Oh frak it!” Solas muttered to himself and marched for the stage. This alone got the attention of most of the patrons, as well as the security guards who moved to intercept the Epicanthix. Unfortunately for them all this got them was being flung across the and being slammed into the wall. This got the rest of the guest’s attention. The twi’lek dancer made to run but before she could get very far she began to rise off the ground while clawing at her own throat. Solas stepped up onto the stage and took the mic.

“Alright, now that I have your attention. There is a Quarren hiding somewhere in this building. He just tried to kill me. Now unless you want to end up like this little tart…” As he spoke he closed his free hand and the sickening crack of the dancer’s neck snapping radiated through the tavern. “I suggest you either give him up or run, your choice.” He then released the dancer’s limp body and it collapsed onto the stage in a heap.

What happened next can only be described as pandemonium. Half the crowd ran screaming from the establishment. The other half began scanning the crowd. Lexiconus moved to join the crowd funneling out, when a pair of very large, very rough hands grabbed his shoulders and shoved him out into the open. As he regained his footing, he looked up and locked eyes with a pair of warped black and yellow eyes.

“There you are. I never got the chance to return the favor you did me. So please give me the pleasure of trying to kill you.” With an evil smirk the Sith called his saber off his hip and into his hand. The crimson blade sprung to life as he leapt off the stage.