A Disturbance on Park Avenue
(a story with @anyilherron )
Some days were not worth waking up for. Nor were some nights worth staying awake thru. Unfortunately, the Force does not pay much attention to such things, being eternal as it is, and it’s siren call had drawn Tank out from where he was staying, following its guidance one afternoon, moving deeper into an overcast New York City.
In a way, he had learned why so many powered beings made the city their home, and why so many worked to save others. There were many that needed their help, and not nearly enough of them to go around, much less the local police force. It was a situation that Tank was rather quite familiar with, as there were never enough Jedi to answer all of the calls to service. They did what they could. And here, on another world in another galaxy, another dimension entirely, the situation was no different, and he was going to follow the will of the Force and do his duty to the best of his ability.
Or he would fail. It was as simple as that. He felt he could do no less, trained as he was, than those with no real training in the tasks they had set for themselves.
As he fell back against a brick wall, he questioned if the belief that his training and skill with the Force giving him an edge over the untrained powered beings in the city may have been more than a bit arrogant of him. His strength slipping, he slid down the wall, leaving a smear of blood behind, all the while holding up one hand in a defensive posture, the other pressing tightly to a wound in his abdomen as he channeled the Force through him to try to heal the wounds he had sustained. He knew it was not enough, and wasn’t going to be enough, until he was in a healing trance or a bacta tank, whichever came first. Considering the fact that he was outnumbered and already wounded, those odds were bad enough a Corellian would take notice.
Tank blamed himself for the damage taken. He had been so focused on afar that he had not been focusing enough on the here-and-now. His trust was in the Force, and it still said he was following the right path; however, for the literal life of him, he wasn’t sure he was going to figure out if his destiny was to end here, or if there was something beyond this encounter. Looking up at his opponent, he took a slow breath, trying to keep himself collected. “So...Big Ben, was it? Would seem you brought an different ‘ringer’ this time.”
“Heh.” A large, heavily muscled man cracked his knuckles. “You got that right. Little speedy fuck shanked you up good. After the last time, I didn’t think it’d work, but my man came thru.”
“I suppose he did. He certainly hit me in the right areas. To his detriment, I’m sorry to say.” The red-head glanced at the body nearby, his head impaled on steel rebar that Tank had summoned from a nearby construction site. The intent had been to trip the man, but...well, his own injuries and being caught completely by surprise had not allowed him to focus properly. That, combined with the speedsters impressive speed, had turned quite deadly.
“Then again, I suppose you’re looking to kill me, so all bets are off, aren’t they?” He looked back to the taller man, who sneered in return.
“That’s right. Gunna beat you like a little punk ass bitch. Gotta lot of payback for you, and my man did just enough damage to slow you down. And I don’t see you using your fancy toys, so I guess today is just my lucky day.” Big Ben rolled his shoulders and neck, the joints and tendons crackling from the action as he limbered up. Nearby, blocking off the alleyway, were several other gang members, sneering and jeering.
Tank glanced to them, and then back to the larger fighter in front of him, admitting to himself that Big Ben had a point. He had been in the act of drawing one of his lightsabers when the speedster had struck him from behind, and the shock of the strike had caused him to lose it. He could sense it was nearby, but not specifically where in order to call it to him, or even if he could, and the other hilt was inaccessible while he maintained pressure on the wound in his belly. He would just have to make do without either of them. His gazed hardened on the taller man. “Big guy, if you had learned anything from the first two encounters with me, you should know that I don’t need my ‘toys’ to fight.”
“Well you ain’t gunna be fightin too well with your ‘powers’ if you’re too busy bleedin like an animal, are ya?” Ben retorted, a little less sure of himself.
“I’ll do what I must. If that means dying while defeating you...then that is the will of the Force.” Tank fortified himself, opening himself as much as he could to the Force and letting it strengthen his resolve, diminished as it and his connection currently was, and managed to pull away from the wall, leaving a smear in its place.
“You a tough sumbitch, I’ll give ya that. I respect that.” Big Ben admitted honestly before shaking his arms out. “But now comes the hurtin.”
“Not as quickly as you think!” Tank threw his free hand forward and Force pushed the big man down the alley, sending him tumbling end over end. At the same time, the Jedi groaned, staggering in place briefly to the point that he nearly fell to his knees; such offensive uses of the Force were not going to be an option while he was still holding himself together. He could already feel fresh blood leaking from the wounds in his back and in his abdomen, hotly dribbling over his pressing hand. “May the Force be with me...and provide someone who can help buy time.” He silently prayed while evaluating what he could do and taking up as much of a stance as he could while watching the other man angrily picking himself up to the calls of his gang.
