Jacen had decided he didn't like new York. It reminded him far too much of Courscant. What that did mean though was that he knew how to hunt someone down here. The Commander of the Galactic Alliance Guard had not relied on the Force alone when ensuring the stability of the galaxy on the little mess of a planet. His not so secret secret police, killing, attacking indiscriminately, getting the job done.
And here he was now, on a planet far from his galaxy. Hunting someone for a very different reason, with no intent of hurting them. He had every intent of good here. Harry was lost, and Jacen had been lost once too. His life flowing from him, burning in white, everything that was Jacen Solo falling away, replaced by a coldness, the coldness replaced in its time with the monster that he had fashioned himself to become.
He stood on the balance point of that now. Not Caedus, not yet. But further from Jacen than was entirely happy with. He'd split off from Khan, from Sherlock once he'd gotten a rough idea of where Harry was. He hadn't seen either man since.
But he could sense the broken. The lost. Trapped and hurting. And closer he went until he could smell the nicotine.
"Hello Harry." he said simply, trying to appear vaugely non threatening. Which wasn't always easy when you were Jacen Solo. He figured as long as he kept away from the lightning they were doing okay. "Can we talk, just you and me?"