To whom it may concern....(Challenge to a Sith)

[Nemesis]

The night was cruel and unfeeling. Winds from the north brought an air that chilled a man to the bone. The eternal winter of this planet left its inhabitants with little shelter and even less food. In a word the planet Hoth was, Hellish.

Across the vast snow covered plains, to a hill in the east stood a man. His garments were stained the color of midnight, his white eyes flashed brilliantly contrasting from his black attire that revealed nothing for the exception of his eyes.

Steadily the figure moved through the ocean of snow. Mist flew from his every step and whipped harshly about his body. Yet the man never stopped moving. His stiffened form never stumbled, never slowed down, only pushed onward.

The man carried himself as a warrior should, proud, intimidating, undawnted by what struggles lay before him. Though his face was masked his eyes, those windows to the soul, told his story. What battles he had seen, what obstacles he had overcome, all unwritten but there they were there, all the same. There they reside, for the whole universe to see, if it dare look. His scares were many, his companions few; but times change. People change.

A sudden darkness prevailed over the blanket of white, and there it was. The mountain stretched so high it defied the heavens themselves. Its name was as ominious as its appearance, Fate. An title earned more than given, many men had met theirs on the sides of the towering behemoth.

The shadowlike figure bent down and placed a small device that began to blink. The florescent glow shattered the overwhelming hoards of white. Dual swords gleamed in the man's hands, his words still sounding in his mind. His message hand been sent in a simple yet meaningful letter to every known gathering place.

"If a challenge is what a Sith seeks, then come to Hoth."

The exact coordinates listed below. A signature at the bottom read, Nemesis.

[Nemesis]

Hours slipped by. Nemesis' blood ran cold as the environment about him. He rotated his head head from left to right, searching the area for one, just one Sith who had courage enough to meet the challenge. No one stepped forward. The assassin swiftly sheathed his swords.

As the opinion Nemesis had for these Dark Siders dwindled, so did his patients. He unclipped the strap that crossed his chest and dropped his blades, belt and all, to the rocky basin of the mountain. His gaze moved upward to the highest point that could be seen before being engulfed by the clouds. Perhaps the journey to Hoth would not be an entire waist after all.

Nemesis spun around, a difficult task due to the icy blasts of wind and the ever present bog of snow which constantly reminded him of where he was. Again he began removing equipment from himself, this time his belt which held his blaster and other various weapons.

At this point Nemesis was completely unarmed. He withheld nothing from being cast aside to the rocks below. Clasping one frozen rock after another he began his ascent.

The mountain stretched on endlessly. Small flakes of white were the climbers only companions. These tiny companions proved to be a poor accompaniment, for each speck might as well been razors. Each fell with such velocity they cut deep into the flesh of the lone man.

Time had no meaning anymore. What seemed as mere moments to Nemesis could have been hours even days to the outside world.

Still he moved on.

The jagged shards composing the mountain ripped away at his hands and feet. Hot blood solidified upon exposure to the open air. Constant wipping of the forehead removed beads of ice that formed in the place of sweat. Undaunted, Nemesis moved on.

As the altitude increased, breathing grew difficult. Darkness clouded his sight. He felt himself slipping from the ledge. His weightless frame went aborn.

The tearing of flesh woke the flying assassin, his body tumbling down the granite surface. His fingers clung to the solid rock. Shards flew from the mountain side. His hands shreaded as he came to a hault hanging precariously over the side of a 50 foot drop into an abyss of lifeless billowing clouds.

One grip at a time, the process began again. Pains of hunger set in.

Still he moved on.

Nemesis regulated his breathing as he reached thinning air once more. The precaution seemed to be working, but for how long.

Muscles tightened beyond mobility. The body twisted in agony. The summit was still not in sight.

A beam of light pierced the covering above. The sun shone brightly, warming the stones. Wounds opened and the red liquid flowed once more. Deep maroon colors swept over the arms and legs. Then, materializing from the damp fog was his goal.

Renewed vigor aided the weakened assassin as he made his final stretch for the prize. His fingers took hold of the final ledge. Swinging the right hand to meet the other, Nemesis took hold of the summit. With what energy he had left the assassin appeared over the top and collapsed.

The journey had been long but well worth the effort. Pain was the well earned wage of those that seek enrichment. Scattered points of distant mountains was all that surfaced as far as the eye could see. Worlds below were all but forgotten. The yellow beams, reflected by the willing hoard of white, illuminated all. Specks of light shimmered from neighboring peaks. Their ore rich creavices provided for a variety of color and brilliance.

Not a sound violated the solitude of this place. But, the trained killer had little time to take in the wonders of his surroundings, for he was no longer alone. Displaced peebles fortold the approach of another being.

Nemesis stood to his feet and slowly turned to face his guest. Unarmed and weakened, he prepared for the fight.

[Nemesis]

The figure behind Nemesis revealed himself to be TX, holding the items the assassin had left at the base of the mountain.

"I'm afraid I have some rather bad news, master." TX stuttered. "It appears that no Sith received your message, or none had the courage to face you."

The humble droid bowed and presented the weapons to his master.

The message held little meaning for the killer, now. He turned to face the north winds. Once a terrible foe on the surface, had now become a gentle breeze brushing across his broken and bleeding body.

"Would you like me to tend to your wounds?" TX sheepishly asked.

Nemesis did not move nor acknowledge the question. After arming himself once more, the assassin turned to the hovering space craft behind TX.

A rigid walk way lowered from the ship with a hiss. As he walked up the ramp, Nemesis faced his droid that had now joined him by his side.

The ship methodically rose from the ground, pointed toward the sky, and in one thunderous movement...vanished.

The experience had not been waisted, though none are that one can learn from. If the Sith would not come to Nemesis, Nemesis would go to the Sith. There is little the killer enjoyed more than a good hunt.