The end of a story

[Aithne Charr]

(This will be the final thread in Solan's story. While he will be transferred into another character as a spirit of sorts, to give some IC reasoning for the rank and power transfer to his replacement, that will only be done to preserve him. Lastly, this is the final thread that Solan will be a part of, after this no more threads will be taken up or started as solan. All existing threads will continue as if Solan is still alive.

For all those that helped make Solan's story fun, thank you. [member="Bryce Bantam"], [member="Joza Perl"], [member="Taeli Raaf"] and the others will get a message from Solan near the end of the thread, so read along if you want or simply know you will be tagged again. The first post will be a really short one, but only to set the stage before I go to work. )

Nar Shadaa​

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Solan grinned as the building was covered in flames, his own body heavy from the loss of blood coming from a wound in his shoulder. He was dying, the corruption from the darkside was cutting him apart on the inside and he had to do something while he was still alive to fulfill his purpose. This was to kill a major slave trade criminal and to wipe out as many Hutt Cartel bases as he could before he expired. His hands grasping tightly to the saber that was still ignited as he looked on at his work before starting to shamble through the street, heading to the next building with a grim expression on his face.

He would make them pay tonight.

 

[Aithne Charr]

His hands tightened on the corner of the building, not sure if the liquid that coated his hand in a crimson veil was his or someone else's. His eyes strained to see more than ten feet infront of himself, peering through the hazy and faded world with barely enough in him to stay standing. That had been the fifth building tonight, torching anything connected to the Hutts and killing everyone that was connected to these slavers.

His features were no longer even hidden, no longer kept from the world and his enemies. He had his flesh being burnt from his arms, his cheeks were eaten away from and distorted. His skin had the same deathly pale look, ebony veins crawling around his features. His breath was slow and barely there, short with little strength behind it. And his eye held nothing but a silken sadness in them mixed with a hatred for the people he was spilling the life of.

His throat burned as he coughed, having inhaled too much smoke and the cough brought with it attention. Two of the Cartel Grunts, sent after him appear and Solan could only raise his hand, detonating the ammo packs at their side and consuming them in flame but not before one shot at him and it cut through his palm. The pain was dull, his mind already splintered by the pain around him and his companions near death, the Ashlan wolf barely alive and huddled in his cloak for safety.

 

[Aithne Charr]

With the two now dead he started to feel the pain from his hand, looking down at the now damaged body part. He didn't bother healing it, only searing what needed closed so that he did not bleed out. He was going to die anyways and he would see as many of these bastards dead as he could. He needed a way to kill a great deal more, to wipe them out and his smile started to twist into something far worse as he thought of it. This sector was a haven for criminals, there would be no one innocent around and the levels below would be spared any significant damage from what he had planned. There was a repair shop nearby for smuggler vessels and if he could find what he was thinking of there, it would wipe out as many of the bastards as he could. The only problem was that it was in the main complex of the group he was targeting. He didn't have long as it was and his hands tightened, pain shooting up his arm from the now damaged and useless hand.

His body started moving, almost as if it were dead though. The movements held no grace, no life about them, it was a shambling motion that barely looked human. His eyes had dropped to the ground, swaying with his own body as he could barely keep himself standing up straight. His eyes glazed over as if his mind was gone, and his body was simply on auto pilot now. The only thing that even remotely could be considered still alive about him was the mere presence he gave off as he walked through the streets. Any force user would sense only three things from Solan at this point. The first being his malice, his hate, his disdain for every single being in this place. He saw them as scum and disease that needed to be scorched from the grounds that they stood upon. They would be erased and destroyed, cut out and thrown to the carrion feeders. The second was his pain, the numerous wounds, the heartache, the simple need to expire form this universe. Solan had lived his time and he knew he would not see the woman he loved once he was dead. He would not see his daughter when he passed, he would not see his friends or his parents. Solan was a murder, a monster and a demon, someone who did not deserve a happy afterlife, someone who deserved to suffer for the thousands he had killed, the many who had suffered from his actions. And the last that someone would feel from him was his certainty, the certainty that this was finally the end, the relief that came with that knowledge and knowing that he would no longer live this accursed existence.

He had suffered for years, feeling the pains of others, trying to help them at first but eventually giving up. He could not continue on like this, he had tried to destroy monsters, to kill those who deserved death and yet not a single name on the list he had grown to hate, not a single one had died. Not even the damned hutt who cut off his daughters finger, the cartel members he wanted to personally flay and torture for touching her and he never got the chance to. His eyes cast further downwards to his feet, seeing drops hit his feet. Not crimson but clear as a liquid fell from his face. He wanted it to end, to stop feeling the pain of others, to stop suffering, to stop losing people he cared for, to stop it all.

His body moved on its own as another one turned the corner, gripping him by the throat with the force and shambling by, barely hearing the crunch of the man's neck as he went limp and dropped to the ground. Solan didn't have time to waste on these ones, he had to get inside. His still functioning hand now reached down, retrieving one of his sabers and igniting its blade, pushing into the door and beginning the cut that would grant him entrance. He would see all these people die today, he would see them be incinerated and missing from the halls of history. He would laugh as he killed them with a single action, and destroyed this bastion of their greed and evil. He would then let himself be consumed, and end it all for good.

 

[Aithne Charr]

Another wound, this time in his leg as a bolt struck him and caused him to lash out, an invisible ebony spear launching at a Rodian and cutting through the creature. Where its chest once was, there was but a hole in the center, nothing remaining after the spear found its mark. Flames danced out from Solan's arms, like snakes that pushed through and consumed its prey that got in his way. Grenades detonating at the sides of those who found him and he continued to limp now through the halls. His body unsteady and his vision ever more blurred. He looked dead, he looked inhuman. Any light from his eyes was gone and he swallowed as his hand dragged along the wall, a streak of crimson left like a trail. He couldn't waste time, he couldn't enjoy what he was causing these demons and his body continued on towards his destination.

A blast caught him in the back, sending him to the ground but only for a few moments, his hand opening up and from the earlier hole another serpent appeared shooting out and coiling around the creature that tried to put down Solan. It was consumed like the others, turned to ash in moments from the flames that ate away at his flesh and bones. The flames claimed their prey and Solan slowly rose once more, his life staining his clothing, dripping from his mouth as he could taste it. He couldn't see anymore, letting his body guide him, listening to his friend's pleas for him to just stop and let his life end. He would not listen to his friend though, and the Ashlan knew that the efforts were in vain. Solan would not stop until he did something to end as many of these creatures as he could.

His hand found a doorway and carefully he cut into the door, pushing with what strength he had before his arms failed him, the saber dropping to the ground once the hole was made. His body stepped forward, entering a vast room with ships standing ready. Finally he looked up, his eyes barely opening and he stared at the reason he was here. It was a reactor. A small one meant for freighters and Corvettes at the largest. The device was the power source he needed to deal his final judgement on these people and he stepped forward.

Only to hear a small sound, something rolling towards him and before he could react it exploded. It was a grenade, but not a common one, a grenade that cause his mind to further weaken, his grip on the force distant and shrapnel lodged itself in his arms and body as he was sent off his feet. He was dizzy, his body wouldn't move and he tried to open his eyes to look at what had happen. Walking towards him was the man Solan had come to ensure the death of. The man had on him something that anger Solan all the more, something that created a blindspot for the force user, the creature which he cursed the name off when he was on Myrkr. A Ysalmiri was strapped to him, fed and kept alive by a nutrient pack.

And as if with the intention to cause ever more hatred and rage from the man, a young woman, with a brand on her forehead and long dark hair was standing nearby the slaver, her head down and robes covering her from neck down to her toes. She said nothing, did not look up and Solan's anger flared at this. The man would bring the one thing that Solan tried to save time and time again. He would bring an innocent to where Solan was and taunt him like this when he was near death.

This is the only thing that made Solan move, lunging out with what strength he did before feelign cold steel punch into his gut. The man laughed as a vibroblade cut into Solan, But Solan did not care about this wound, his hand reached out and tore the Ysalmiri from the man, throwing it back and his hands gripped onto the slavers neck before pushing forward and further impaling himself on the vibroblade. He did not care, he wanted this creature dead, his hands tightening until a crunch sounded and Solan stumbled back, looking down then at the slave. He stared at her, the voice of his Ashlan companion growing faint. He was dying now, the blade did too much damage.

Reaching out, he latched onto the starship drive he had come for, triggering an overload on it with the force, igniting the device and causing it to rupture before reaching out and hugging the young girl, protecting her as best he could from the explosion that would destroy the sector he stood in. Nar Shaddaa would be greeted with a fireball that ripped apart the complex he stood in and vaporized anyone within its blast radius. All but with the exception of three souls.

Solan lost consciousness as the fireball ended, his mind blacking out and his body falling to the ground as the building fell apart around him and the young slave girl. He had kept her alive atleast. He could die like this now.

 

[Aithne Charr]

Solan didn't die though, not yet.

His eyes opened to find himself in some shack, a red haired woman sitting over him. She smiled at him and he cried seeing her. Kira, she was here, this was her shack, this was where they had lived for two weeks. His love was here to greet him as he died.

He cried when he saw he face, he did not say anything, he knew this was probably her speaking to him through the gem he had created. She had become linked to it and in the moments of his death he would smile at her until she said something to him.

"You know why I helped you Solan? Because I believed you could do good things with your life. I was going to die, I knew this and with that I passed to you my dream of a better place. One where those like me would not suffer because of your ability to create a place for them that no one else could. You even went far above that Solan, you created an entire world for the people who needed a true home, you opened it up to them and saved those who would have no future. You did as I hoped and now I ask you something else. Do you believe we can only achieve in our lives something beautiful, or continue on. You have given me the happiness to know you continued on, through pain and troubles to create my dream for me... now I ask you if you believe you can pass on that dream."

Her eyes fell to his face, a ghostly hand stroking his cheek.

"Solan, do you believe in such a thing as reincarnation? I do, and even in death it seems that you have found my new life. Someone who shares the same potential that you did when you came injured to my home. Only this time it will not be the caretaker that dies and passes on her dream. It is your turn to pass on your torch and give a life to someone else, potential for them to do more. This Gem you created was only meant for you, and now I wish for you to pass it on, to replace me with yourself and to help this new one. It is time for me to rest solan, and time for you to watch what your actions will cause. So do so, and pass on the torch."

She faded now, her voice having grown distant, her body disappearing and he was alone in that same home. He didn't know why he was here but the appearance of a Ashlan wolf on the shoulders of a young girl told him everything.

He had somehow been pulled from that place, and dragged here, to where his life had begun in earnest. He had been brought back to where it began so that he could die. He smiled at this and looked at the pair, knowing what he had to do before he claimed his own life though.

 

[Aithne Charr]

His hand left the forehead of the young woman, looking at her as he finished transferring what he had learned over his life to her. Knowledge Transfer, he had intended to pass on what he knew to Edric but the young man had rejected his offer, wanting to live his life for himself. This Girl, nameless and with the brand of a slave on her forehead had accepted though. She had been keeping him alive with the force, having been forced into learning healing techniques by the slaver in order to be his personal doctor. It had explained the Ysalmiri and the anti force user grenade but he knew she could not save his life and so did she. Instead she had merely kept him living long enough for the Ashlan on her shoulder to say its goodbyes.

The Ashlan would not be the only one, as Solan took a hold of his datapad and began to record a message, one he would send to those who would deserve it. Those Like [member="Darth Metus"], who would never see the Commander again and instead be given the name of the young girl, who had simply called herself Charr now as she had no other name. [member="Joza Perl"] would receive another message, one that simply said "I am sorry I could not babysit your little monster, I am sure he will grow up strong." A message went to [member="Bryce Bantam"], apologizing for not being able to share a drink with the man who Solan had helped train. And another to [member="Taeli Raaf"], explaining to her that Edric was now in charge of anything solan had previously owned. There were others he wanted to say goodbye to, but his voice started to fail him, his eyes closing and his breath slowing.

As the life left the body it did not go on to the Netherworld. Instead it moved to the Gem and the Gem itself now rested in the hands of the young girl. She would be its owner and its sole user now in place of him. Solan would be the observer now as Kira finally was given her rest. He would not be given his rest, possibly cursed to remain in the gem until the end of time should things turn out to pass in that way. For now he would be the guardian angel, watching what his actions would come to bring with his body dying. His last physical action lit the table he rested on, flames crawling over him and across the surface. They crept over the floor and walls, his tomb was this home, this home which he had been given a new life to pursue in. He would die where he had first come to actually live. It was a proper way to go.