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.

"Green light! GO! GO! GO!"

Those were the words Laren had been dreading most as the shuttle Malachor opened its doors. Laren was repelling down, not just to the surface, but below the frigid surface of one of the most inhospitable planets in the galaxy. Though he trusted the competency of the shuttle crew to keep the vessel steady as Laren repelled deeper into the tunnel's narrow chasm, he couldn't help but feel an insatiable fear as he saw churning rock and cerulean ice fly past his vision.

Eventually the rope was coming to an end, leaving him only another fifty metres to manually traverse the tunnel network into the cave itself. As his feet touched the ground, he seamlessly unclasped himself from the rope and unholstered his hand blaster, scanning the darkness for any sign of immediate danger. Only the soft sounds of dripping water and the screeching of the surface winds met his ears, while he saw the faint opening of an adjacent tunnel in the distance. All else was eerily silent.

"We've dropped a midway transceiver in case of severe surface or atmospheric storms. Only active jamming will block our signal," came the voice of the shuttle's flight engineer. 'We'll be in orbit waiting for your call to be underway. Good hunting, bounty hunter." The commlink in Laren's ear cut out, leaving him very much alone, and leaving Laren to ponder the humour of his situation while he rummaged in his heavy cloak for a flashlight. Like his blackened vision, he could find nothing to amuse him.

Once Laren illuminated the path, he realized the blue-hued light in the distance was his destination. That's the only place she could have survived, he noted, seeing as the rest of the tunnel system was barren and devoid of anything remotely living or interesting. The hunt that those Plagueian cultists had hired him for had taken him from the Inner Systems to this hulking rock, all because a slave went missing with valuable intelligence on the mostly secret location of Plagueis's new system of operations. Laren doubted very much it was a mere slave that caused all the trouble, but he let his masters think he was simply a hound. In a way, he was.

As Laren extinguished his torch and entered the dimly lit cavern, he stopped in awe of the sight. A few hundred metres below the surface, and life was flourishing in all of its splendor--

Beyond the accumulated pools and out of sight, the roar of what Laren guessed was a vicious creature made the Pantoran bounty hunter jump. Cold temperatures and runaway slaves didn't bother him, but a creature that sounded as though it was intent on eating him was definitely not a welcome addition to the mission. He had read that the Wampa was not likely to be as active during severe surface storms since their food source was more easily accessible during calm weather. Perhaps the research was wrong. Laren didn't want to find out.

As Laren slowly traversed deeper into the cavern, nearing the edge of the pooled water, he thought he heard metal, perhaps a blade slowly being released from its sheath. Once again Laren stopped, a few paces away from a massive and melting stalactite forming a small puddle at the base of an equally massive and broad stalagmite. Unstable cave conditions.

"You think too much."

With only the arrogant warning given by his would-be assassin, Laren holstered his blaster and expertly somersaulted to the left. He heard the soft landing of his assassin from the ceiling as he ceased his movement. He was further away from the shore of the pooled water, now, but instead of dying, the tip of his cloak was ripped to shreds by his new found opponent. "No one was supposed to be here," the Pantoran grumbled as he stood up, readying to face his new guest.

He couldn't see the man too clearly in the dim illumination coming from the nearby crystalline objects, but Laren could note a scar above one of his eyes, an athletic build, some skill with a blade, and an arm that moved too fast to be natural. It was all he could notice before he dodged another bladed assault for his gut, which barely missed as he back pedaled two steps, attempting to understand his opponent's unique wrist-blades.

Laren had no time to draw his blaster. The fierce warrior before him was backing him further and further into the cave. But with each strike, Laren had more time to learn, to see the movement. His own martial training began to kick in, and with each precise stab and potential slash, Laren could almost feel the hatred and savagery of his foe in every strike. This did not surprise him in the slightest, as working with Sith usually meant making enemies of others.

His opportunity presented itself. The human was attempting to land a critical blow in Laren's abdomen with a double strike. As the first blade came close, Laren side-stepped the weapon so narrowly that the fabric of his shirt ripped. Clearly surprised at the Pantoran's seeming luck and caught in an undesirable position, Laren was able to launch a counterattack. Dipping deep into his stance, Laren used his opponent's momentum to land a deep elbow-strike into his wide open abdomen. Laren followed by sliding his left hand upward, deftly striking the back of the man's neck with a blistering chop that sent him tumbling uncontrollably into the darkness, eventually landing with a loud thump.

The planet of Hoth, a cold and unforgiving wasteland that will kill anyone foolish or weak enough to dare explore the planet. For many, Hoth was a death sentence, but for those willing to test their mental fortitude, it was a haven. The vast cave systems below the planet run for miles, the perfect training ground.

Palatinaean acolyte Kylex had been tasked to travel to the Hoth system and look for an ideal place for a scouting base. Disobeying his main objective, the young Sith decided to venture below the surface to train, expecting no one to be down there but wampas. The snow shifted beneath his feet as he leapt down into the cave, his lightsaber clanging on his belt. The acolyte eventually reached the bottom of the cave, descending into a dimly lit cavern; he noticed a large lake full of calm water. The cavern was tranquil, and for a moment, Kylex felt inner peace. The peace was shattered when Kylex sensed a presence entering the cave, it was obviously no wampa. He would need to set a trap.

The Sith acolyte waited until he could see an unnatural source of light, a torch, coming from another entrance into the cavern. With very little time to act, Kylex jumped up and pinned himself to the ice above the entrance, only the thing keeping him from falling was his wrist blade, sunk into the ice. He saw the light turn off as a robed figure entered the cavern, the acolyte could sense that this person wasn’t from his clan.

Is he from Naga Sadow? Nevertheless, he is a dead man.

After watching so many holovids, Kylex couldn't resist saying a smart quip before he turned this figure into mincemeat. He edged his blade from the ice and dropped down.

“You think too much.” He said as he dropped, slashing at the figure only to find he had trimmed their cloak. Kylex looked over to where his opponent now stood, noting several features. Male, face was covered with scars, and he looked very fragile, almost weak, but Kylex knew not to underestimate an opponent.

The fact that he had wasted his sneak attack infuriated the Palatinaean, but he would leave his lightsaber for the moment, it seemed his opponent hadn’t noticed it. He leapt at the robed man with his wrist blade extended, slashing wildly at him, each swipe missing him by an inch. Kylex pushed the man back into the cavern when he was suddenly hit at the back of the neck, the man had managed to hit him, hard. The acolyte tumbled along the floor of the cavern, eventually stopping at the base of a stalagmite. Kylex stood up, staring at this being, trying to work out what species the intruder was.

“Chiss? No... Pantoran.” He said slyly. “Why are you here blue-skin?”

“I’m a bounty hunter, and my business is none of your concern, assassin.” He replied, slowly drawing his blaster. Kylex stared at the pantoran, his piercing yellow eyes locked with his opponent. “Then, you will die.” He said coldly. The acolyte reached for his lightsaber, igniting its deadly red blade that had killed many before. Quickly, the bounty hunter squeezed several shots off at Kylex, each with pinpoint accuracy that would have killed the Sith, if not only for The Force warning him of the danger, allowing him to deflect the bolts.

This guy is insane with a blaster; I’ll have to close the distance quickly.

Kylex dashed straight at the man, each shot grazing his arm or chest. He would need to end this quickly.

“Give up already, I’ve already won.” said the pantoran, firing blaster bolts in a flurry towards Kylex. The Sith was now only five meters from his opponent, the perfect distance. He kicked the snow into the bounty hunters vision, temporarily blinding him.

“You think that will stop me?” muttered the man, looking down at Kylex who was arm’s length away. The pantoran's eyes lit up in fear as he realised what the Sith apprentice was going to do. A sadistic smile formed on the acolyte's face as purple torrents of pure hatred erupted from his fingertips. The bounty hunter tried to dodge, but the acolyte was just to close. The sheer power of the lightning dropped the pantoran to his knees, panting.

“This is where you die, bounty hunter scum.”

Laren didn't even register the victorious comment from his Sith opponent as his body was enveloped in swaths of immeasurable agony. Bursts of energy erupted from Kylex’s fingertips, mere moments of focused hatred pouring from the Sith acolyte’s powerful hands and wrapping Laren in a torrent of intense lightning. The pain would momentarily subside to the sound of his opponent’s empowered and entirely mad cackling. But then it would start again, and the bounty hunter wouldn’t even register the gut-wrenching screams he released, almost in primal protest to the unnatural affliction his opponent was leveling against him. All Laren could do during his moments of seemingly eternal torture was to focus inward, utilizing every ounce of his conscious mind to will himself to stay alive.

“Do you feel it?” Kylex seethed as he walked closer to the meek and tremoring form of Laren. “The life slowly seeping away from your body with every --” he paused to unleash a brief torrent of force lightning. “Single --” he took a step closer, releasing another violent stream of intense lightning from his outstretched hand. “Shock.”

As Kylex was about to release another brilliant shock from his fingertips, the sound of an enraged Wampa echoed throughout the dimly lit cavern, striking fear into the barely conscious Laren, and even the arrogant Sith, Kylex. He instinctively turned away from Laren, his lightsaber raised in front of him in order to defend against any threat. The Sith was looking down the long expanse and over the water, trying to identify anything that could be considered a threat.

This is my chance, Laren thought as he lay face down on the ground. His once dry clothes were now sopping wet because of the melting ice water that had accumulated on the cavern floor. He could hear the sparks crackling from his communications system, having been completely destroyed by the acolyte’s lightning. He couldn't call for help - but perhaps they would come to save him anyway. But nothing could be for certain, and he had to stay alive and escape, if he could. And so he committed to waiting, concerned that if he make any fast motions that Kylex would turn his attention back to the bounty hunter. He had to wait for the right moment to strike, perhaps by taking out his blaster, or some other method. But not yet.

Laren turned his head slowly, his vision clouded from the tears that had been pouring down his face during Kylex’s torture. If not for the hulking mass that had appeared, blocking the faint blue light emanating from the distant crystalline formations, Laren might have guessed the rumbling floor was regular seismic activity. What he felt instead were the deliberate steps of a Wampa, two and a half metres tall. Laren knew next to nothing besides the existence of the creature on the planet, but based on the frame of the creature, it seemed somewhat thin for a gargantuan beast.

As Kylex released a brief but powerful burst of violet lightning from his free hand, the Wampa charged forward. The lightning didn't seem to phase the creature as it walked toward the Sith acolyte, it's hulking mass now only a few metres apart and nearly within striking distance. The wampa was not graceful, clumsily raising it's powerful, fur covered arms with its sharp claws to latch onto the acolyte. But Laren knew it would only be moments until Kylex brought his lightsaber up and struck down the hopelessly outmatched creature.

Now.

Laren slowly got to his feet, making sure to maintain his balance so as not to slip on the icy floor. He instinctively let his hand drop to his blaster, which he released from its holster and took into his left hand. His cloudy eyes looked down at the hand blaster, thankful for its hardy design and durability, especially after the acolyte’s torture. The usually unnoticeable weight of the weapon seemed nearly impossible to wield in his weak hands. His entire body screamed and protested against any action, but Laren forced his own will to overcome the fatigue of his physical body. He had one more chance to land a critical blow to the distracted acolyte, who was too arrogant to notice that a ‘basic’ was about to strike back.

As the familiar whoosh of a lightsaber permeated the air, crimson light searing Wampa flesh and decapitating the beast, Laren took aim of the acolyte. He concentrated with a fierce intensity, hoping he could control his breathing and focus his arm to stabilize the weapon. With nothing but fate left to determine if he would shoot true, Laren fired a quick slew of blaster bolts before dropping the weapon to the floor and his arm to his side.

One of the blaster bolts hit the Sith acolyte on the left side of his trunk, causing him to fall to the ground and writhe in pitiful agony. His lightsaber dropped from his hand and rolled a few inches away, as he was too preoccupied with his current predicament to focus on holding his weapon. Laren slowly meandered forward, coming to a slow stop looking over the man. The other two streams of plasma hurled past the human man, exploding against hardened rock and melting ice deeper in the cavern.

“I'm not going to kill you,” Laren managed to croak. “Suffering is what you Sith live for. Live for it, assassin.”

A commotion and the sound of quick footsteps drew Laren's attention away from the bleeding mass that had been Kylex. A team of three heavily armed soldiers known as Ravagers appeared, their E-11 blasters raised and the flashlight attachment illuminating the area. The lead soldier ran over to Laren, his face masked by a hardened, full coverage helmet. One of the others grabbed Laren’s DC-17 from the floor and they turned to leave.

“No one is getting out of here,” Kylex whispered, barely loud enough for Laren to hear.

In his hand was a thermal detonator, his thumb resting over the button that would mean their obliteration. His corrupted yellow eyes were transfixed on Laren’s own golden orbs, and the smirk on his face was arrogant to the point of insanity. And yet, he hadn't pressed the button that would spell their doom.

“I like to see the looks on their face --” he pressed the button and dropped the detonator, “when they realize their life is mine.”

The cavern rumbled, and Laren only remembered brightness before the nothingness overcame him