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.

It is here that many choose to hide, the frozen wastes acting as a deterrent against most pursuers and tracking systems. Regardless, there are those that will press onward, no matter the cause.

Finding yourself on Hoth, either for shelter from pursuit or to claim a target yourself, you know the elements are just as big a threat to success. With that in mind, there are two enemies to manage. Nature holds no sympathy for your plight and outside the caves a thick storm is raging. No matter the outcome that is to follow, neither of you will be leaving any time soon.

Complete your task or succumb to the elements. Either way, it's a battle for survival.

[Venue Note: It is assumed that both members are wearing at least a cold-resistant cloak in this venue, even if not included on their Loadout. All other ACC rules and guidelines still applies.]

“There are people who do this for a living,” Erinyes mumbled to herself. “Scavengers. This is literally their job. Why am I here?” It was a question the Zeltron Adept seemed to be asking herself a lot lately. In her first two months as Proconsul, she’d spent more time running errands like a henpecked apprentice than she had when she’d been a henpecked apprentice. It hadn’t let up since that first trip to Nar Shaddaa.

“And what kind of idiot hides a data cache on Hoth? Don’t they know it’s cold here?” Erinyes rubbed her arms beneath her cold-weather cloak. She knew exactly what kind of idiot would hide a data cache on Hoth: a Collective operative on the run from an attack by one of Taldryan’s fellow Clans. The poor fool had arrived in the Caelus System just in time to be caught and interrogated, unwittingly providing Taldryan with exactly the kind of intelligence data they’d need to gain an advantage over the Collective fleet. With a prize that valuable, the Clan Summit had banished concerns about minutiae like “how to get there” from their minds. Now, Erinyes wished she hadn’t been so dismissive. A jetpack would’ve made the trip back to the surface a lot easier–

The impression of a swift downward chop from a lightsaber leapt into the Adept’s thoughts a heartbeat before she heard the weapon ignite behind her. Erinyes flexed one hand to release Glamour from its holster on her forearm as she pivoted to one side. The brilliant glow of her attacker’s weapon filled her peripheral vision on its way through the space where the Adept had stood a moment before. Erinyes thumbed her lightsaber’s activation stud as she raised it, and the violet blade crackled to life, its tip appearing mere centimetres from the assailant’s cheek. Erinyes’ attacker recoiled, his head reflexively jerking to one side, away from the glow cast by the lightsaber blade.

Now that she’d had the chance to look him over, Erinyes smirked at her ambusher. “No wonder I didn’t see you coming; your face is the same colour as the ice.” The more worrying part was that she hadn’t sensed him coming, either, which meant her attacker knew his way around the Force. “Do I know you?”

“No. You have something of mine, though: the data cache you found,” the ambusher said.

“Oh. Well, I’ll be happy to return that as soon as I can get back to my ship and make a copy of it. Unfortunately, I don’t have any blank datacards with me.” Erinyes lowered her lightsaber, though she didn’t dare deactivate it before she was sure she was sure the new arrival wasn’t a threat.

The ambusher shook his head. “I can’t let you do that. That’s classified Ascendant Fleet data. The Dread Lord ordered it retrieved before it fell into outside hands.”

“Who the kriff is the Dread– oh,” Erinyes said, as the pieces clicked in her mind. “Look, I understand Plagueis not being happy about whatever’s in this data cache being out in the open, but Taldryan has a Collective battle group on our doorstep. I’m not going to just hand over intelligence that might make the difference between us holding the line or being kicked out of our home system.”

“Taldryan’s problems aren’t my concern,” the Plagueian said, his voice taut with tension, “and my patience is running thin. Hand over the data cache, or I’ll take it by force.” He raised his lightsaber the few millimetres it had dropped during the conversation, gripping the hilt with both hands as he assumed a squared-off, almost rigid stance.

Erinyes raised an eyebrow. “Well, at least you’re not trying to root around in my head like the last guy who wanted information from me.” She flicked the phase-shift switch on Glamour’s hilt, and the blade flickered for an eyeblink as the Adept began twirling her weapon in a lazy figure-eight. “Let’s see if you hold up as well in a fight.”

“It’s your funer–” The Plagueian didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence before Erinyes’ lightsaber flew out in a wild backhand strike aimed for the side of his head. His response, a vertical block that stopped the attack in its tracks, came instantly. A counterattack followed so closely behind that the Plagueian had to be acting on reflex, and so smoothly that if Erinyes hadn’t recognised the techniques—like the “deflecting slash” he used to batter her second attack aside—she would never have believed that her opponent was using Shii-Cho.

The powerful two-handed blow had knocked Erinyes’ lightsaber away and left her body unprotected, forcing her to rely on footwork and raw speed when the Force warned her of an incoming stab. Never one to retreat if she could help it, the Adept swung her leg out and half-stepped, half-leapt in a semicircle that swung her around to land behind her opponent’s back. The buzzing of lightsabers filled the cave as the Plagueian spun to face Erinyes, sweeping his weapon in a broad horizontal arc to ward off an attack from behind—a beat too slowly, it turned out. Erinyes was already on the offensive again, and only the Force’s advance warning gave the Plagueian enough time to backpedal and knock the Adept’s weapon aside before she skewered him.

“Not bad,” Erinyes purred, watching her opponent returned to his ready stance. “What’s your name, Iceman?”

“Vaeril Aerath.” The words were about as cold as Erinyes’ nickname.

“Vaeril Aerath.” Erinyes drew out and trilled the two Rs as she repeated the Plagueian’s name. “Nice dipthongs. I’ll be sure to tell the Dread Lord you fought valiantly in defence of your Clan.” The Adept twirled her lightsaber again, her movements sharper and quicker than before, and Vaeril forced a breath out and adjusted his grip on his weapon. A beat later, the two Dark Jedi leapt forward, and an electric crash echoed through the cavern as their lightsabers met and stopped cold in a typical saber lock. Erinyes’ preference for a one-handed grip showed its weakness when she felt herself losing ground against the superior strength of Vaeril’s two-handed press.

A warning sounded through the Force, and the image of the Plagueian shoving his blade through her guard sprang into Erinyes’ mind. When Vaeril threw his weight into what he must’ve expected to be a final push, Erinyes turned aside and deactivated her lightsaber, sending him stumbling. The violet blade sprang back to life a moment later, and Erinyes whipped a strike into the small of Vaeril’s back—but instead of bisecting the Plagueian, the “training saber phase” of the Adept’s lightsaber made the hit a far more manageable blunt impact.

Vaeril jerked upright and grunted in pain when Erinyes’ lightsaber slammed into him, but managed to regain his footing before the added impact sent him to the cave floor. When he turned to face his, his expression was a mixture of surprise, relief, and irritation. “What the frak was that?”

“I got tired of all my fights being one-hit kills. It’s boring when it’s over too quickly,” Erinyes said, shrugging. “Don’t worry, though; I’ll still kill you at the end. Compared to whatever your superiors would do to you for coming back empty-handed, it’ll even be merciful.”