On the fringes of the Outer Rim territories and famous for being the one-time location of the Rebel Alliance, Hoth is a frigid world marred with fissures created from the tidal pull of Hoth’s three moons. Blanketed in a frozen ocean, massive oceanic currents beneath the southern hemisphere are the cause of constant seismic activities that result in a constantly shifting landscape of tunnels and caves.

Buried into the side of a fissure reaching hundreds of meters into the core of the planet is a network of tunnels leading into a cave. Its sole entrance is suspended within the wall of the fissure, requiring one to rappel down the dangerous crevasse and into the tunnels; one small miscalculation could send explorers descending the rest of the unmeasured height deep within the planet’s core.

Insulated under several hundred meters of ice in all directions, the cave is protected against the gale force winds and the intense snowstorms that sweep along the planet’s surface. As a result, the cave is warmer than most of Hoth’s unforgiving cold with melting icicles dangling precariously overhead. In turn, this allows for more life to grow in addition to being a promising habitat for the hulking wampas that have been trapped this far below the surface. Beginning to thaw, it is obvious that this cave will eventually fall victim to seismic activity and disappear into the sheets of ice that surround it. Illuminating the cave’s interior with a dull blue glow, the luminous forms of lichen have taken up residence among the bones of the creatures unfortunate enough to be trapped here.

Caution must be exercised if one is to navigate the slippery slopes of the cave as melted icicles drip onto the cavern’s floor surface. In one corner of the cave, the ocean water has accumulated to form a large pool, providing sustenance to the rare lumni-spice growing within the crystalline complex, never to see the blue-white sun.

A black-armored form slid rapidly down the line from the top of the fissure and onto the small shelf of ice-encrusted dirt in front of the cave entrance. Quickly disconnecting its harness from the line, the figure grabbed a blaster rifle from where it had dangled at his side during the descent. The rifle snapped up into a firing position, aiming down into the cave. A small but powerful light shone briefly under the blaster’s muzzle, temporarily throwing the cave’s darkness back deeper inside. Satisfied, Major Kharoc Garrlan started into the cave with the rolling stride of an experienced rifleman, keeping his head and shoulders level and steady.

The black armor had made Garrlan stand out like a Hutt at an Ewok convention on the snow-covered surface of the planet, but the color was paying off now as he slipped from cover to shadow in quick bursts of motion. His rifle swung from point to point as he covered his own movement. Behind his helmet, his eyes scanned for anything, either from the visual his optics provided or from his helmet sensors, that could indicate the location of anyone else in the cave. Not that that necessarily meant much - the sensors, and the rest of the armor for that matter, were just an old set of Imperial biker scout armor painted black and didn’t have the advanced features or sensors of true Storm Commando armor. Nothing appeared at first. Thank the Force for small favors, Garrlan thought to himself as he flashed back to the mission briefing he’d been given before departing for Hoth.

According to said briefing, several maps and coordinates for locations scattered all over the galaxy had been uncovered in a raid on what was believed to be a safehouse for the terrorists that had struck at Estle City and the clan. There hadn’t been any rhyme, reason, or even apparent ranking in importance to these locations, and as such the Consul had decided to send out small teams and assorted individuals to check these locations before sending strike teams out. Their instructions were to recon the area and use their own judgement on how to proceed from there, with an emphasis on simply reporting back if they were unsure if they could take any effective action.

Which was why, Garrlan’s thoughts coming back to the present, he had been sent to this cave on his own. It would be far easier for a single man to infiltrate into and exfiltrate from the area if this was a trap. If worse came to worst, Garrlan was confident enough in his training and skills to be able to blast his way out, though hopefully it wouldn’t come to that.

For about ten minutes he proceeded in that fashion, without seeing the first sign of an inhabitant. But all of a sudden, the exact signs of inhabitants that a visitor to Hoth would never want to see appeared. Specifically a loud roar with a massive infrared signature appearing out of a side cave, and a massive white paw flying out at Garrlan’s head.

A reflexive curse was cut loose, quickly followed by equally reflexive fire from Garrlan’s blaster rifle. Three darts of ruby energy flashed into the thick fur of the wampa, leaving char marks as the energy dispersed slightly before meeting the thick flesh of the creature. The wampa roared in pain, and staggered back slightly. Garrlan retreated rapidly, continuing to snap out blaster fire. The wampa roared again, this time with palpable rage as well as pain, and Garrlan summed up his reaction in just a single word. “Oops.”

The commando turned and ran back for the entrance, but before he went ten feet, he slammed into another being, sending both tumbling to the ground. White hair and grey fur flashed before him, and the Major thought he recognized the other being even as they fell.

This just got a lot more complicated, he sighed to himself.

Great, first the cold, now some bleedin’ lummox is tryin’ ta kill me. And he karked off tha Wampa.

“Get...tha...frak...off..of...me,” he grunted, pushing at the heavier trooper without making much headway.

Whoever had bowled him over shook his head once, twice, then seemed to snap out of whatever daze had taken him. With the blue glow that permeated and illuminated the cave, it was hard to tell much of the man’s features, but his eyes widened in alarm right before rolling off of the Ryn. Kordath grunted as an elbow dug into somewhere soft, squishy, and dear to him, not that the soldier noticed as he’d managed to snap himself up to a kneeling position with his rifle tucked against his shoulder. The Ryn squeezed his eyes shut as crimson bolts spat out in rapid succession and the Wampa roared in pain, opening them only when he heard a great weight land in the snow and ice.

Slowly, the Rollmaster got to his own feet, watching the...Human? Looked Human enough, though in the lichen luminosity it was hard to tell if he wasn’t one of the other near breeds. They all looked the same, hairless and cold. He groaned and straightened his back, stretching his upper body and giving his tail a twitch to insure nothing had been damaged. His head hurt, though when he touched the back of it he found no blood, still he was feeling a touch light headed. He knew this mission would be a pain the moment it had been handed to him, a scavenger hunt on Hoth could only end poorly.

“What tha ‘ell is wrong with ya? Can’t watch where yer goin’, can’t walk quiet enough ta not tick off tha Wampas! What are ya even doin’ here?” Kordath hissed at the man, trying to keep his voice low. Probably a futile effort now after all the blaster fire. The Human turned, his rilfe held at an angle across his chest with the muzzle towards the ground. Bleu felt his heart sink when he took in the insignias on the man’s uniform. The patch for the Nighthawk was clear on his shoulder.

Well it was bound ta happen eventually, wonder if this whole mission was just a bloody trap?

“You’re Bleu, aren’t you? You used to be Captain on the--where are you going?” shouted the soldier.

The Ryn wasn’t waiting to find out if his paranoia was justified or not, turning tail and running deeper into the caves. He could hear the soldier calling out in confusion for him. The light sweeping the cavernous darkness from his rifle helped give away his position as well,. Kordath had been expecting somebody from Galeres to come after him since the day he had taken off for Port Ol’val and had offered his services up to Qel-Droma. He’d seen the way the Galerians, and the military, had looked at him after the whole debacle with the Pereditition forces when he’d been forced to work against the Clan. Being under mind control wasn't considered a free pass for treason, apparently. The jackboots of the militaristic House wouldn’t let this slide, he’d hoped putting himself out of view would avoid this sort of thing though.

Now he had a trained killer, an ex-Stormtrooper by the look of him, tracking him through a bloody ice cave on bloody Hoth and here he was without a bloody idea if the mission he was on was legit. With his back against an ice stalagmite, Kordath pushed out with the Force to track the man looking for him. Whoever this guy was he was alert, he wasn’t missing a lot of details either and seemed to be tracking the Ryn with some ability.

Blasted snow and ice, probably see me footprints. I do nae want ta fight tha sleemo if I don’t have ta. Then again, he glanced around his icy cover and caught sight of the light on the soldier’s weapon. We’re pretty far out and away, do it quiet, nobody knows, eh? Just get ta see tha look of surprise on Kaeth’s smug bloody face when I get home alive.

“Not gonna take me out so easy, soldier boy,” he growled under his breath as the trooper stepped up alongside the spire of ice. Kordath shot a palm up before the man’s face and released a burst of Force energy as a bright flash. He followed this by stepping just past the man and kicking back into the knee joint to send the much taller Human to the ground. Bleu was almost impressed when he went to bring a boot down on the Major’s neck, but found the soldier had already rolled himself over and put his arms up to catch the blow. He was even more surprised when the Major pushed up and out the second he felt the Ryn’s foot touch him, sending him back and knocking the Rollmaster off balance. Years of experience, the Rollmaster figured.

“Bollocks,” muttered the Seer as he shifted his footing to recover, watching the Human get back up with spryness that belied his apparent age. Kordath readied himself for the man’s counterattack, but watched in surprise as the soldier swung his rifle back up into position. He spotted the strap holding it to him, and groaned, having expected the blaster to have been lost when the trooper hit the ice.

Least he can’t see, yet, probably. I hope.

This didn’t seem to stop the Major, who, having perceived a threat, opened fire blindly. Blaster bolts lit the cavern up even more than the blue lichen as the weapon fired in a sweeping arc, a testament to the man’s training that it remained more or less level. Kordath scrambled across the icy ground, sliding and scurrying while mentally cursing himself for not just running when he had knocked the man down. Now he’d gone and made a trained soldier angry.

I do not want ta die here, it’s too cold! he thought to himself, ignoring the lack of logic as he panicked. As he tried to find cover, he heard a noise behind that sounded suspiciously like ‘There you are you little rodent’ before the Force blared a warning in his head to dodge. The ground didn’t agree with his attempt and a lancing pain in his right arm told him he’d been shot.

At least it was warm. Hurt a bit though. Finally skittering himself to cover he reached up and poked the tender, burnt flesh of his bicep, telling himself that at least it was just a graze. Booted footsteps informed him the trooper was pursuing, he gritted his teeth as he pulled the sapphire blade from its sheath. This was going to get messy before it was over. The steps stopped and the Ryn heard the Major shifting in the ice and snow.

Garrlan’s mind was working overtime. He had seen an internal intelligence dossier on the Ryn, a former CO of the Nighthawk and a POW of the One Sith a couple times. Mental conditioning had turned him temporarily against the Clan, and while he was not considered an immediate threat, he bore watching. The phrase “immediate threat” rumbled about in his head for a moment oddly. Behind his helmet, still blinking away the aftereffects of the Force-created flash of light, Garrlan froze for a moment. He had the odd sensation he was forgetting something important…

A roar of fury sounded behind him. Oh yeah. That. Oops again. Garrlan whirled, betting that Bleu wouldn’t stab him in the back, at least not while their lives were in immediate danger, and sprayed a pattern of shots back down the way he had come. The ruby darts briefly illuminated the area they impacted, and while a few missed, others scattered more burns onto the wampa’s fur. The wampa roared again and charged the two Arconans.

Garrlan dove to the side, instinct, training, and natural talent allowing him to keep his rifle on target as he poured more fire onto the creature. Kordath peeked out of his hiding spot and yelled a curse as he tossed a flashbang and ran again. The explosive disoriented the wampa, causing it to stagger as it blindly swiped at the direction Garrlan’s blaster fire was coming from. The commando kept his distance, still moving, and performed a quick swap on his rifle’s side-mounted power pack. His new target was the monster’s knee.

The knee, normally, is a hard target to hit due to its near constant movement. The wampa, however, was still recovering from the flashbang and standing (mostly) still. The bolts burned through the fur and skin and began to part muscle. The wampa screamed in pain - not a roar but an honest scream - as the joint started to fail. It went down on its injured knee and Garrlan leapt back as it made a desperate lunge, pushing off the good leg in the storm commando’s general direction. Bleu swept in, Sapphire Blade flashing in the gloom, the blade cutting through the tendons on the wampa’s good leg before the Ryn danced away again.

The wampa screamed again. Garrlan let go of his rifle, letting it dangle by the sling as he unhooked a nondescript bag from the back of his belt. “Get clear!” Garrlan didn’t look to see if the Ryn followed his advice as the commando ran with all speed right at the wampa, building up inertia before he gave a full-body spin and threw the bag at the monster. He kept up his speed, running past the monster in the direction he’d need to go to get to the exit - which just happened to mean he was charging right at Bleu. The Ryn angled his body, expecting Garrlan to attack, but instead the commando just pulled a small remote and firmly mashed the single, clichéd red button on one end.

The world went white… well, whiter.

An unknowable amount of time later, Kordath slowly opened his eyes, trying to recall what was going on while cradling his head gingerly. Slowly, piece by piece, the memory of the short encounter with the black-armored trooper came to him, culminating in - the Ryn quickly looked and saw nothing but fallen ice, rock, and a few bits of blood where the disabled wampa had been. Kordath relaxed for a moment, then turned and saw the still form of the soldier he’d been… not fighting. The armored human simply lay still, breathing, but not even trying to sit up yet. The man’s rifle lay a couple of meters away, the strap that had kept it on him parted by the final explosion - probably a satchel charge. Kordath hesitated, weighing his options as he hefted his Sapphire Blade. He could just leave the man here, but… no. The soldier was a loose end that would more than likely end up choking him to death. Closing the gap, the Ryn placed the sharp blade at the other’s throat, intending to at least make it quick and painless -

Azure light leapt between them and Kordath stiffened as another stun bolt followed. The armored figure sat up, blaster pistol sidearm clutched in one hand as the other came up to keep the Sapphire Blade from doing any damage as the Ryn fell unconscious.

Garrlan rubbed at his neck as he lowered Bleu to the floor. He had no particular animosity to Bleu and his orders certainly hadn’t covered his presence. He considered briefly, holstering his sidearm and collecting his rifle before searching and relieving the Ryn of his assorted weapons. The broken whiskey bottle caused him to pause for a moment as he mourned the apparent loss of good alcohol that would have made the shuttle ride back to Estle City far more enjoyable. He slung the Ryn over his shoulder and headed off. The support team in his shuttle had medical supplies, including sedatives, and they could keep Bleu unconscious until the man was delivered back to House Qel-Droma, Garrlan figured. It might not be a perfect solution, but it was the best one he saw that preserved someone who might be needed in the fights to come.

“Bleu? Is that you? I’ve seen you around, you know. Never really talked, heard about what happened to you though. You stepped up and sacrificed yourself for the good of the Nighthawk. That takes guts, which isn’t something people thought you had.”

Kord leaned back against the rock he’d chosen to cower behind, flexing his arm unconsciously as it throbbed from it’s blaster burn. He strained his ears, hearing what passed for light steps from a man in full combat gear trying to be stealthy. The Ryn was taking what was said with a few grains of salt; this guy was wearing stormtrooper armor and had already shot him once. His experience with ex-Imperials had been less than pleasant since coming to Arcona. Racism and elitism was a hard thing for people like that to shake, broadly speaking.

“Come on out, Kordath. I’m not sure why you attacked me, I don’t even know why you’re here. I was told this was a solo mission, maybe they double booked us. We should work together, for the good of the Clan.”

Bleu held still as the crunch of packed snow and ice came closer, taking a deep breath as the Human stepped into view. The Major’s eyes swept around the area, taking things in and filing them away by the look of him. The Force covered Kord in a veil, though he’d never been particularly good at this trick. Sweat beaded on his forehead despite the chill of the cave as he waited for the trooper to move on. He watched as annoyance and determination warred across the weathered face of the soldier before he began to walk forward. Kord released the cloak he’d covered himself with, a nearly inaudible sigh accompanying the abandoning of the effort. He’d barely had time to breath, let alone respond when the Force went ‘look out,’ before a rifle stock slammed into his face.

The soldier hadn’t even turned around to do it, realized Kord as a hand went up to check his nose for fractures. His whole face was throbbing now after a hit like that to the chitin, eyes watering up in response. The hand holding his nose move to cover his eyes as the Major turned and shined his blaster’s light in his face.

“You make too much noise. Now I’m going to stun--” the Human started to say, his tone calm and even up until it was cut off by a sudden darkness. Kordath heard the Human smacking something, probably the light on his weapon, as he stumbled away from the globe of light consuming darkness he’d placed around the trooper. Several blaster shots spat out from it in his direction, probably tracking the noise he was making. With a glance back to the blackness he’d left his assailant in, Kordath stopped in his tracks and crouched behind an outcropping of ice. The shots paused and the Ryn concentrated, pushing out with the Force to send out imagined noises to the Human. Several bolts came out of the dark, now in the direction opposite of Kordath, as the Major tracked sounds only he could hear.

A rumble broke the Ryn’s focus a few moments later along with a sound of a snuffling nose and claws scraping across ice. He swallowed, the Wampas, top of the food chain for Hoth as far as they were concerned, must be investigating the racket. This wasn’t a world of civilization, why would blasterfire drive the alpha predator away before they were hit with it?

This could buy me tha time I need ta get out o’ here he thought, blinking away some of the sweat running down to his eyes. He listened intently, catching the sounds of the oncoming Wampas and twisting them towards the trooper, manipulating the sound into illusory footsteps. Even in the chill of the cave, the effort was causing him to perspire to the point his shirt was stuck to him. If this didn’t work, he wouldn’t have the energy to get away from the trooper, much less angry Wampas. He watched the Major stalk towards the noise as Kordath allowed the engulfing darkness to dissipate, holding his breath. When the soldier’s light swept over a side tunnel entrance the noise became overwhelming, the Wampas within spotting an intruder in their territory.

“Oh, oh no,” the Ryn heard his would be assassin say as one...two...three, three Wampas came trotting out of the tunnel.

“Time ta leave,” mumbled the Ryn, turning from the sound of blasterfire and roaring beasts to start running. A few minutes to get back to the point he’d used to get down into the caverns, get back to the shuttle, and go home. He could hear explosions as he saw the harsh, reflected sunlight from above, and wondered if he’d done the right thing.

Kark ‘em, ten ta one he was here ta kill me, anyways. Me face hurts. Me arm hurts. I’m goin’ home.