Nar Shaddaa, a true hive of decadence and scum. The perfect place to find a criminal, providing you can find the one you are looking for. This is the exact problem that was currently plaguing Taldryan Knight Thorn.
’Blast this cursed city. How hard can it be to find one Sith lunatic?'
Thorn mused to himself as he moved silently across the rooftops of the gambling district. He had been tasked with tracking down and ending the life of a Tarentum Sith warrior. Unfortunately, this particular Sith is an enigma. So much so, that Thorn couldn’t even find out his name prior to setting out. The only information he was able to scrounge up was that his target was male, a Sith, wore a suit of black armor, and most importantly was renowned as a madman. Despite the lack of information, Thorn had been able to track someone he was certain was his target to this district.
Dropping silently onto a lower roof the zabrak looked out over the wide thoroughfare. Certain his target was in one of the buildings below, Thorn drew his DLT-20A pulse cannon off his back and set it up on the edge of the roof. Propping it up on its bipod, the zabrak laid down next to the rifle and drew out his quadnoculars. Staring through their viewports he watched the street below, the hunt had begun.
Solas Night-Thorn stood inside of a cantina watching the people milling about the dark room. Why was he here? No one knows, not even the man himself. He had departed his home system on a quest to ease the pain caused by a ritual he participated in. However, this pain also exacerbated the madness that dwells within his mind and in a fit of insanity he found his way to the Smuggler’s Moon. He had allowed his thoughts to drift away but was brought back to the here and now when someone placed a rough hand on the Sith’s shoulder.
“Hey buddy! I noticed you giving my boys some nasty looks! You got something you want to say to us?” The man was unbelievably drunk, exemplified by his comment about Solas glaring at his “boys” despite the fact that the epicanthix’s face was completely covered by his heavy mask. Solas attempted to ignore the drunkard but was forced to act when the man forcefully turned him around to face him. The Sith sighed before driving his forehead into the man’s nose. With a sickening wet crunch the man staggered back cupping his broken nose. With a guttural howl he lunged at the Sith, only to have his head removed by the crackling unstable blade of Solas’ lightsaber.
The debut of the infamous weapon caused chaos to erupt inside of the cantina. Most ran for the exits fearing the wielder, however several men rushed Solas. Screaming about how he had killed their boss. Taking a lax one handed grip on his weapon, the Sith effortlessly dispatched his attackers. Seeing there was no more challengers, he returned his saber to his belt before heading to the exit.
Stepping outside he sighed, the fight had brought him back to reality. Once again focused on his quest he made for his ship. Walking along the thoroughfare, he stopped to look around for a moment when something in the back of his mind told him to duck. Taking its advice he dropped into a crouch only moments before a heavy blaster bolt struck the wall behind him.
Thorn cursed under his breath seeing the man dodge his shot. Only someone tapped into the Force could have dodged that shot. This meant two things; this man was almost certainly his target, and he knew he was being hunted. Thorn knew what came next. He had to move, quickly.