In the planet of dangerous myths, shocking fables and unspoken legends, there is also beauty in this world. Dispersed around the untamed planet are flaws; cracks formed through thousands of years. Water rushing and destroying cliffs, racing and scooping away the soil beneath your feet and digging crevices untouched by all but a handful of explorers from ages long past. Isolated at the southern tip of Ilum, this particular ravine close to the planet’s core darkens deeper down until the bottom remains a mystery. The benefit of this is that no-one heads directly down instead using technology to bore a tunnel from the nearby glacier. Uncharted and unexplored, this region is a place of nightmares for those who venture to its depths. The half-eaten carcasses of the explorers who met an untimely end litter the ravine’s descent, remaining as a warning to those who might venture too far. Whether these men and women fell to their deaths, or were murdered remains a question in the long-lost histories of the ravine.

In front of you is the base floor of the ravine. Opening only at random times because of the glacier sheet, you used the bore tunnel to find your way here. This level is pitch black and a headlamp was given before you left for the planet. The sides of the ravine stretch vertically, as if they scrape the whistling and snowy clouds above. On each side of the walls, various ports and alcoves distinguish in the light. Some are known to be rivers of purified water, and you can tell this by the icicles forming on the lip of the tunnel. Others were temporary shelter for climbers. But with some luck, you may find the permafrost chamber tucked into its haunted depths. A vast room of permafrost crystals rarely found, and thought only to be on Hoth.

Glinting like candlelight against the unforgiving darkness of the deep and untrodden cave, multi-coloured clusters of lightsaber crystals reflect the light into the deepest crevices from the surface. Untouched for a millennia, the value in this chamber once sparked an entire battle between the Old Republic and the Empire. Be warned - caution must be exercised, or you might find yourself joining those who came before.

The Hunter looked around curiously, moderately insulated from the cold in her armor. She had often heard of the crystal mines on various planets, but she had not actually seen one before now. The glittering surfaces of the walls, with their different hues and shades, seemed to almost intoxicate the young woman. The view was indeed breath-taking, but the Cathar had only one thought on her mind: how many credits she could make from a single haul from this place. A single score from such a cave would fund her hunts for years. The momentary idea of selling crystals on the market was pushed from her mind as her superior hearing picked up the soft, padded footfalls of another sentient nearby. A lithe, attractive Togruta stood not far, watching the Cathar with curiosity.

“Ah, you must be Hoth’s bounty hunter. Xirini, wasn’t it?” A’lora spoke softly, her voice carried a slightly musical sound to it. The Togruta was covered modestly with heavy pelts to combat the frigid climate of the planet. Xirini’s helmet registered the biometrics and listed the Togruta as A’lora Kituri, Councillor of Urr.

A message forwarded to her on an encrypted frequency detailed a very well paid contract twenty-five large for the woman who just happened to walk up on her. The contract was simply signed A Friend, which had made her already tightly wound nerves wrap up even tighter, but business was business. It just would not do to have a contract fall in one’s lap and be ignored.

Rin simply stared at the other woman for a moment and brandished one of her slugthrowers, leveling it at the Togruta. “Kituri. Just the one I wanted to see, eventually. You are going to answer some questions about why you let my sister be killed. Then we get to take a little trip,” her voice carried an intensity she rarely had desire to use.

The Councilor blinked in confusion, clearly not understanding the Cathar’s statement. “I have let no one get killed. I think you are quite confused.”

The Corsair snarled and fired her weapon at A’lora, who stepped cleanly to the side. The round whizzed past the woman and struck the far wall, sending shards of crystal showering the ground. Xirini winced at the idea of how much that cost, but quickly refocused on her opponent. Her eyes narrowed as she watched the calm collectedness of the Togruta and fired several more times, each round narrowly missing the intended target.

The ground glittered with cracked and shattered crystals, made useless by the Cathar’s slugthrower. To her chagrin, Rin’s mind began to tally the cost of those mistakes as she realized that this woman would be a bit more challenging than her other marks.

A’lora saw the Hunter’s momentary carelessness and grinned, gripping the shaft of her quarterstaff. The Togruta moved swiftly on nearly silent feet, using the impressive distance of her staff to strike quickly at the distracted woman’s head.

The jarring impact of the staff ripped the Hunter’s mind back to the task at hand, the readouts on her visor filling with static and glitches. Xirini reached up with her free hand, tore the helmet from her head, and tossed it on the ground, aureate eyes turning to stare down the offending sentient.

Memory snapped at A’lora as the Cathar’s resemblance to an old ally caused her to take a momentary step back. The Bounty Hunter had a striking resemblance to the pirate who had arrived to help during the uprising to overthrow the Mad King of New Tython, Cy Thuron.

“Izanami. But, we were told you died,” The Togruta said in a hushed tone.

Rin glared at her opponent, her eyes narrowing to slits again. The Fallanasi regained her composure quickly, too quickly for the Cathar to utilize it. The Hunter drew her other slugthrower and gestured to the Councillor, her features becoming a deathly mask.

“Her real name was Akhera, not Izanami. And the teachings of an old man and his order got her killed,” The Cathar seemed to spit the words at the other woman. “As the leader of these weaklings, you get to answer for it.”

“Let us get this over with then, A’lora Kituri,” the Cathar said coldly. “You will answer questions after we finish.”

The cavern thundered and roared, the stillness clinging to the multi-faceted walls vanishing as a bright flash of light echoed the Cathar’s rage. Trembling, the foundations shook and faltered around them, beneath their feet and above their heads. Clouds of frost parted in the wake of Xirini’s rage, allowing the projectile to pass through the veil and near its mark.

The frozen vapours filling the space between them obstructed the Togruta’s view, stifling her senses. She would not see the slug as it coursed through the fog that hovered above the lithic bedrock. Instead, the glinting of refractions along the translucent covering of crystalline shards gave her enough insight to detect the projectile's course.

Plasma crackled into existence at a moment’s notice, the emerald radiance of the Fallanassi’s lightsaber reflecting off the cascade of translucent formations that rained down on them. She pirouetted with the blade’s movements, turning to minimize the target she presented. Her reflexes were swift as a coursing river, giving credence to her athletic abilities.

Still, the slug was born from pure malice and was determined to find its mark. Relentless in its pursuit, it wasn’t deterred even as it made contact with the glowing blade. Instead, the containment field separated to expose the superheated core of the lightsaber, incinerating the slug’s point as it made contact. The loss of mass left the projectile unbalanced, passing through the Togruta’s defenses while spinning around its axis.

Her side seared in immense pain as the shrapnel tore into flesh below her ribcage. She faltered, giving the Cathar another clear shot. Another burst of fire jettisoned from the slugthrower’s barrel, and A’lora felt the lightsaber wrenched from her grasp to tumble amidst the snow and ice that drifted from above.

“Hold there,” Xirini’s voice demanded from behind the mask concealing her anguish at the thought of her littermate’s unfortunate end, “I demand to know answers, but I’m sure that a corpse will settle the contract after I’m done. Don’t make me waste the bullet.”

Senses flared, beaming to life with the tumult of movement from overhead. A’lora could ‘hear’ the movements reverberating from the stalactites hanging precariously from the uneven ceiling. Signals entered her montrals, translating into a danger-sense that compelled her to move.

She threw herself to the ground, rolling with the momentum. Whirling around, her quarterstaff deflected a smaller lance that fell from the cavern’s sundered dome. On the point of contact, it broke off into smaller fragments that shattered against the cold, hard ground.

Evading the falling debris had turned into something akin to a dance. Writhing and twisting, her toned muscles followed the choreography of maneuvers that carried her across the crags and shallow cliffs of the cave. The use of her staff was twofold in this routine. Planting it between rocks allowed her the leverage to jump higher and further than her legs could travel. Circling around the fulcrum, she propelled herself forward to land amidst a bed of crystalline fragments.

Gasping for breath in the rubble, she felt something clawing at the younger woman, eating at her thoughts and provoking her to rage. Grief, distress - these emotions dulled Xirini's more compassionate feelings. She was no longer an instrument of reason, instead looking for someone to punish for the loss of the one she called Akhera. It wasn't about the credits or the contract; it was her chance to make the Jedi bleed for their mistakes.

Shards of crystals felt like razors against her skin, slicing through the pelts and marring her skin with shallow cuts and lacerations. Rendered useless, she shrugged the modest cloak of skins from her shoulders, revealing her curvaceous figure and leaving little for the imagination. The air was frigid against her skin, and it took a great effort to regulate her core temperatures to compensate for the loss of protection against the elements.

Lacking the sixth sense of echolocation or Force-given intuition, Xirini reacted too slow. When the stalactites began to crash down, her helmet was struck with tidal force. Electronic images began to cloud her vision, distorted and broken. Cracks spread out across the visor, forming a web around the crater of impact.

“Kriff! Get. Off!” She screamed, a shrill noise piercing her ears like nails scraping over duraplast. She tossed the remains to the ground, where it was buried in a stream of snow pouring from the cavern’s maw. Her forehead oozed with blood, running from an open gash where the helmet indented under the strain of falling rock.

A’lora scrambled to her feet, leaning on her staff for support. Blood congealed over the mass of shards at her feet, coating the translucent mess with splatters of crimson. She was walking over a carpet of glass, which managed to tear through her calloused soles with relative ease.

“I know who placed the contract. Locke, wasn’t it?” A’lora called out between them. However, it wasn’t in the form of a question. Whether it was by some insight or deceit, she knew all the answers. It was one of the things that made the Sith uncomfortable as the Jedi gained more victories, and that made them feel the one emotion that the dark side consumed for power.

Fear.

The Cathar looked at A’lora and shrugged. She could not lie about who had sent the message if she had wanted to as she had no real signature to go on. She gently wiped the blood from her face with the back a gauntleted hand. “It simply gave a location to take you. I do not know who sent it.”

The Togruta shook her head as though it was of no consequence. She readied her staff and eyed the woman standing across from her. “Prudent. Cannot sell out the one that hired you. No matter.”

Rin growled softly, the sound echoing through the cave. The sound of her slugthrowers had created a cascade of enormous ice. The Hunter spared a moment to quickly look around, her face breaking into a grin. She dropped her slugthrowers with a wink at the Councillor, pulled one of the stun grenades from her belt and tossed it quickly at the Togruta.

The pin spun smoothly around her finger as the grenade landed in front of A’lora, who dove away moments before the device exploded. Rin covered her eyes as the explosion rocked the cavern anew. She grinned slightly and her other hand tossed the second grenade to land right in front of the prostrated Consul, the pin spinning almost happily as the Cathar dove away from the falling stalactites. She rolled beneath an overhang of ice getting struck on the side by a large piece of falling icicle, lacerating the soft space between armor plates.

She placed a hand against her side as the other grenade went off a few feet from the Togruta’s face. A’lora, stunned and dazed from the explosion, was forced to rely entirely on her montrals to avoid the falling ice as she got to her feet and staggered around the room. The second explosion had calamitous effect on the surrounding cavern, crystals bounced from the walls as icicles dropped from the ceiling, shattering on the floor below.

The Hunter cursed herself silently as she realized that her actions had put her mark in fairly extreme danger. She leveled her hand at the woman and her whipcord launched itself from its resting place on her wrist, wrapping around the Togruta’s leg. Xirini gave the cord a quick yank, taking the dazed woman from her feet. A’lora impacted the ground and slid towards the Cathar, who worked the cord effortlessly and dragged the woman under the overhang.

Ice continued to rain down around them for what seemed to be an eternity. Xirini looked at A’lora and wondered why she had actually saved the woman. The contract paid out dead or alive; not as well if the mark was dead, but money was money. The Hunter looked at the nearly naked woman, cut and lacerated from the crystals on the ground. She had to admire her figure for a moment, but it was bad business falling for prey.

The Consul stirred slightly, regaining her composure and balance. Her features still showed the dazed effect from the grenade and the Cathar grinned down at her, a gauntleted fist curled tightly before striking the woman across the face.

Cracks and lacerations marred her appearance after the grenade had exploded meters from her face. Deep gashes had cut into the facial markings that formed a distinctive pattern across her fierce visage, marring their symmetrical appearance. Rolling to her back, she gazed in horror as the lance of an icicle tore free from the ceiling.

Within seconds, the wrist-mounted whipcord entangled her leg in a vise as the Cathar disregarded her need for vengeance to save the one she most hated. In truth, she didn’t much care if her target was turned in dead or alive. After all, a dead contract was easier to turn in than a live one and both paid a small fortune. Without a second thought, she tugged on the cord. The tensile wire tightened, burrowing into the other woman’s leg before freeing her from certain death.

Before she regained awareness, A’lora was under the overhang of the cavern and almost within reach of the hired hunter. She grinned while regaining her balance, well aware that her lightsaber was now within arm’s reach. Her opponent had made a fatal mistake, and it would cost her. With one motion, she retrieved the lightsaber from its resting place within a shallow snowdrift and ignited it just before the point of contact.

“Frak!” Xirini shouted, the cable having slackened in an instant. She was unbalanced, stumbling backwards for several paces and almost falling over a broken cluster at her heel. With a measure of control, she regained her balance just before the Togruta closed the distance between them.

“Die!” her voice echoed behind gritted teeth, levelling the barrel of her slugthrower at the charging Togruta with lightning reflexes. Sparks flew in two short bursts, passing through the now-spectral form of her mark before terminating harmlessly in the rock on the other side of the cave. Inwardly, she cursed herself for falling for such a common illusion. The battle had dulled her senses, left her drained and exhausted as the blood ran from her forehead, matting her fur wherever it landed.

The shuffling of feet caught her attention. Out of the corner of her vision, a semi-translucent figure shimmered against the harsh light that now shone into the cavern through the cracks in the ceiling. She ducked, a hair’s width between her and the lead end of a quarterstaff. However, like the design of a double-bladed lightsaber it was quick to follow-through with the opposite end. Xirini knew this to be true when she turned around, her cheekbone making contact with the trailing end with a sickening ‘crunch’.

Reeling, she regained her composure long enough to defend herself from another barrage of attacks. Both of the women had began to grow clumsy and sluggish, making mistakes that the other could exploit to turn the battle in their favour. It continued like this until the cavern began to still from their earlier disturbances. As the chamber returned to dormancy, so too did the combatants begin to feel the true effects of exhaustion clutching at them.

Panting, A’lora dropped to her knees, letting the quarterstaff fall from her embrace. Xirini followed suit, settling to sit with her back against her mark. It was odd, for two that have just moments ago sought to kill or capture the other in a battle of conquest. All thoughts of hatred, loathing or survival vanished in that moment as the two rested against each other for support in comfortable silence.

“So…” Xirini wheezed, “I think I’ll tell this contact to stuff his contracts elsewhere.”

A’lora breathed in relief, her chest rising and falling while the garments clung to her skin with sweat, despite the relative cold of the planet. “I can offer an alternative. One that doesn’t involve making deals with the Sith.”

Xirini raised a brow, “Well, I have a feeling this employer is going to be less than impressed if I returned without something to show for it.”

Lips curving into a violet smile, A’lora laughed before wincing from the pressure on the wound at her side, “Welcome to the Sentinel Network, Xirini.”