Private Snowbound

[Palm-Imer]

B R A C I N G​

WEARING: XxX.
EQUIPMENT: Ghostfire crystal twin lightsabers, blaster guns.
LOCATION: Outpost, Hoth.
TAG: Kasir Dorran

The icy winds howled through the desolate wilderness of Hoth, their mournful wails piercing the otherwise quiet solitude of the remote outpost. Palm-Imer gripped the edges of the observation platform as she peered into the increasingly hostile landscape. A stark white blanket of snow covered the ground, interrupted only by the jagged rocks and the skeletal remains of ancient, weather-beaten structures. The outpost itself, an imposing edifice of steel and duracrete, was designed to endure the planet’s harsh conditions. Its exterior, smeared with layers of frost and ice, seemed almost like a natural extension of the icy landscape.

The initial purpose of her visit had slipped further and further away from her mind as the day progressed, the rising worry within the outpost due to the coming storm gaining presedence over anything else.

The weather had shifted dramatically over the past hours. What began as a gentle snowfall had escalated into a raging blizzard, with wind speeds that rattled the outpost’s windows and sent snow swirling in chaotic patterns. Visibility outside was rapidly diminishing, the landscape blurring into a featureless expanse of white. The temperature continued to drop, making the cold feel like a tangible, biting fiend even by Hoth standards. The heating systems had already began struggling to maintain a comfortable temperature against the unrelenting cold outside. Palm’s thermal gear, though state-of-the-art, did little to fully shield her from the penetrating chill.

Inside the outpost, the atmosphere was a mixture of hurried efficiency and mounting tension. The control room was filled with the soft hum of machinery and the occasional beeping of monitoring equipment. Palm observed the screens displaying real-time weather data, noting the rapid deterioration. The blizzard was now forecasted to reach hazardous levels, potentially compromising the stability of the outpost and the safety of its occupants.

Palm’s own cautious demeanor was palpable, for it was not only the weather that was a looming concern. Her presence there had been a calculated risk. The last time she had encountered someone of note in this region, it had been Gerwald—her former Master now entrenched within the Sith hierarchy. The memory of their tense parting lingered, an unshakeble reminder of the web of allegiances that could turn on her. In the heart of Sith space, she kept her Force presence concealed, her identity carefully guarded. She had to ensure her movements remained inconspicuous to avoid drawing any unwanted attention.

Palm had taken a moment to review the data on the console, her sharp eyes scanning the readings for any indication of impending danger. The readings had been stable for now, but the storm’s growing intensity outside suggested that stability might soon be a distant memory. Everyone was on edge - and so the geminian sovereign wasted no more time before rejoining the outpost's staff in their preparations, reinforcing doors and windows and re-checking the systems. Comms were already unreliable.

She was no stranger to hard work, and right now it wasn't really optional. Everyone had to pull their weight if they were going to see the night through.
​

 

[Kasir Dorran]

Tags: Palm-Imer

While embarking on the journey of moving from his previous home of Formos to the Baliff Station above Faldos, it was the irresistible call of Hoth that propelled him onward. Despite the lingering tense atmosphere and the endless betrayals he had been a witness to recently, he couldn't deny the intrigue of certain rumors he heard about this frozen world. It was a rather hasty choice made amidst the trajectory towards what would be his new home. Kasir had been provided valuable information that could potentially lead to an ancient relic buried within the tundra. It felt like the best course of action at the given moment; it was a way to bide time and let the dust settle.

The Sith’s boots pushed through the thick snow, each step becoming more difficult. While his original calculations were proving to be slightly off, he was certain that the sight would peek out shortly, something to show for the great length he had traveled here. Despite his usual self confidence he displayed in his melee skills and other capabilities, it was evident that the environment of Hoth currently had the upper hand. The strong winds howled relentlessly, threatening to disrupt his balance. Even with his best efforts, it was clear that the elements were testing his limits. He could feel the frustration creeping in; however, it wouldn't bring forth any doubt. The Darkseeker refused to be at the mercy of nature's forces.

He glanced at his surroundings, noting the vast expanse of ice also stretching out endlessly before him. It appeared broken only by rocks. He was now far from the safety of the space transport he arrived on, his only way out of this hostile planet. The choice presenting itself before him was becoming clear– to continue forward into the unknown, or retreat and risk facing certain death. The decision weighed heavily on his mind as he gritted his teeth.

Concealed under a heavy cloak draping over his dark armor, it had proven to be a fairly reliable defense for a modest amount of time. Kasir heavily relied on the power of the Force to evade the treacherous weather conditions. With each breath, he channeled more dark energy, manipulating his body temperature in hopes of preventing himself from freezing. Yet, as the hours dragged on, the strain from it was getting worse. His muscles ached from the constant pressure. The snow threatened to swallow him. All of it was becoming increasingly difficult to bear.

While not being one to believe in luck, his trust in the will and fate in the dark side of the Force never wavered. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more at play here. And then, his keen senses detected something-- an outpost, situated not too far from his current position. Questions began to linger in his mind– who could be living or stationed here? How had he missed this outpost during his initial assessment?

The thought of taking more lives crept into his consciousness. Kasir was often reserved, but when violence became necessary, he showed no hesitation. In a matter of moments, he stood facing the structure, the sharp winds cutting through him. If he was not granted entry, he would have to use force to make his way inside. A small part of him yearned for the more aggressive option.

 

[Palm-Imer]

B R A C I N G​

WEARING: XxX.
EQUIPMENT: Ghostfire crystal twin lightsabers, blaster guns.
LOCATION: Outpost, Hoth.
TAG: Kasir Dorran

Palm-Imer remained a silent amidst the chaos of the outpost's interior. The blizzard outside had now intensified into a frenzied assault, hurling snow and ice with such force that it felt as though the planet itself were raging war against them. The outpost kept shuddering under the storm's relentless barrage. Inside, the air was thick with tension and the low hum of machinery that struggled to keep up with the increasing demand.

Palm's attention was sharply focused on the blizzard's swirling fury and the tasks she was assigned, but it was a dark presence approaching the outpost that seized her full concentration. The sensation was like a cold shadow creeping along her senses, distinct from the harsh weather. Her Force training made her acutely aware of such disturbances, and this one felt dangerously significant. << Just my luck.>>

Her sharp, observant eyes scanned the control room as alarms began to blare and the monitors flickered. Right then the sensors detecting the approaching presence went dark, plunging the crew into a state of heightened alarm.

"Someone's out there!" barked a panicked technician, his face pale under the harsh lighting. "The sensors just went offline. We're flying the storm blind!"

A burly, weather-beaten engineer, gripping a tool in one hand, growled in frustration, "In this storm? Who would be crazy enough to come here now? And if we open the door, it'll ruin all our reinforcement work. We'll be exposed to the storm, and we're already stretched thin. There's no time for such a set back."

Another crew member, a younger woman with a look of anxiety, chimed in urgently, "We can't just let them freeze out there. No matter who they are, if we don't let them in, they'll die. We need to do something."

Palm's stance was unwavering, her face mostly obscured by her mask, her sharp eyes glinting with a mixture of concern and calculation. She absorbed the crew's urgent dialogue, knowing that the decision made in these moments would define whatever came next.

The crew's debate grew more fervent, their voices overlapping in a tirade of concern and indecision. Finally, the engineer made a resolute decision. "Alright, open the door. We'll take the risk. But be ready for anything."

With a heavy groan, the reinforced door was slowly pried open, battling against the storm's fierce resistance. Palm moved forward now, assisting the effort. As the icy wind swept into the outpost, Kasir would have enough space to stumble in, though his figure was barely distinguishable against the storm's fury.

A stern-faced crew member, her stance rigid and authoritative, stepped forward to confront the newcomer. Her eyes were sharp, assessing him with wariness. "Identify yourself," she demanded, her tone edged with suspicion. "What brings you to our outpost in the midst of a blizzard like this? You should have already been dead out there."

Palm watched closely from her position, her gaze locked on Kasir as she processed the new arrival. Her mind raced through potential scenarios, already anticipating the possible implications of his presence and preparing for whatever might come next, her hand lingered close to the concealed sabers beneath her robes.
​

 

[Kasir Dorran]

Tags: Palm-Imer

As he stood in place, he meticulously scanned the outpost, occasionally reaching out in an attempt to sense the movements from any signs of life or other motives within. It was difficult to tell, feeling slightly drained from his travels and overextending his usage on certain abilities. The weather was worsening, just as he had predicted, causing him to briefly think about the forsaken transport shuttle he left behind. Despite the odds stacked against him, a part of him still held onto the thought that he could have reached his intended destination, although finding shelter at the site wouldn’t have been guaranteed.

Despite their struggle to open the door and allow passage, the Sith showed no signs of gratitude or relief; it was simply accepted. Depending on how events would unfold now, it would have been a simple error on their part. As he moved through the small gap, it felt as if time was stretching out by his slow pace. And as expected, as soon as he emerged on the other side, he was met with questioning. A tinge of annoyance coursed through his body.

He harshly disregarded the woman’s presence, as if his attention was fixed on more important matters. If arrogance was a symbol of power, then Kasir wore it with ease, almost as if it were a crown made of air. Sensing a slight disturbance, it made him aware of their wariness. Yet, their willingness to accept him spoke plenty of their character, one that was undoubtedly much different from the ways of the Sith.

Soon, gloved hands slowly rose from his sides, reaching up to unfasten the black helm. With a few clicks, the buttons beeped, breaking the awkward silence. Upon removing it, brow locks fell down over his high cheekbones. In a rather dramatic fashion, he closed his eyes and inhaled several breaths, as though he were savoring the very air within the outpost. He scanned through the group of crew members, studying each individual until finally coming to rest on one in particular. Even before his gaze met her own, Kasir knew that she was armed. His eyes shifted downwards towards where one's hands would normally rest, hinting at the awareness, then slowly lifting them back up to her face.

Kasir simply lingered for a few moments before finally shifting his focus back to the person who had initially addressed him. He was not one to easily reveal his name, unless he was pressed to do so. "I was on a rather personal mission to locate something," he said in a nonchalant tone, not feeling the need to give any further details. "Unfortunately, my calculations were slightly off this time, which is quite unlike me."

If this current situation was on any other planet, a brief explanation might have been sufficient. With it being on Hoth, he knew words alone may not be enough to be convincing. “I suppose that I should thank you for rescuing me from the blizzard," he added, though it would be without emotion or any true sentiment.

 

[Palm-Imer]

B R A C I N G​

WEARING: XxX.
EQUIPMENT: Ghostfire crystal twin lightsabers, blaster guns.
LOCATION: Outpost, Hoth.
TAG: Kasir Dorran

Palm-Imer's eyes remained keenly focused as Kasir made his entrance. She could sense his fatigue and the faint, troubling ripple of dark energy that clung to him. Her instinct told her this was not an ordinary traveler, and though her own presence was cloaked, she could not ignore the gravity of the situation. The crew was on edge, their hurried whispers and anxious movements forming a frantic buzz against the backdrop of the storm’s howling rage.

As Kasir removed his helmet with an air of disdain, Palm took note of his every gesture. His mannerisms, his apparent disregard for the crew’s tension—everything pointed to a man who was used to commanding respect rather than earning it. He carried himself with an almost regal arrogance, a stark contrast to the beleaguered crew who had just risked their safety to save him. She couldn’t shake the feeling that his presence here was more than a mere accident.

The stern-faced crew member who had first addressed Kasir remained resolute. "I would think so, young man." She responded to his attempt at gratitude. Her gaze then locked onto Palm, clearly expecting her to take charge of the situation. “You, this is your responsibility now,” she instructed. “Get him working on reinforcing the auxiliary gates. We need every pair of hands right now, and we don’t have time for pleasantries.”

Palm nodded, though internally she groaned at the turn of events. Putting him to work was the pragmatic and in many ways, the right call - but this arrangement was far from ideal. With a resigned sigh, she stepped forward, her cloak billowing slightly as she approached Kasir.

“Come with me,” Palm said, her voice steady but tinged with an undercurrent of frustration. “We don’t have the luxury of standing around. We’re facing a storm that could very well tear this place apart.” As they made their way through the outpost, Palm couldn’t help but study him closely. The dark side of the Force seemed to linger around him, clinging. The presence of a Sith in the midst of this storm was an unwelcome complication, but she knew she had to deal with it. Her own control over the dark side was a personal matter, a tool rather than a temptation. But she had no illusions about the Sith's propensity for unchecked corruption. Yet, she maintained her composure, careful to hide her own suspicion behind a mask of professionalism.

The auxiliary gates, located in a less frequented section of the outpost, were already showing signs of strain. The howling winds outside were so fierce they seemed almost alive, attempting to force their way through the reinforced barriers. Palm directed Kasir to assist with tightening the security mechanisms and shoring up the weak points.

“Keep those seals tight,” she instructed, her tone practical. “If this storm breaches the gates, it won’t be just the cold we’ll be battling."

The storm outside continued to escalate, the winds screaming. Snow and ice battered the outpost’s walls, and Palm could feel the temperature plummeting further. Every moment spent working on the gates was fraught with the knowledge that they were racing against an unrelenting force.

“Keep moving,” Palm urged, her voice rising above the din of the storm. “We need to ensure that these gates hold.”

As they worked, Palm glanced occasionally at Kasir, her mind already beginning to anticipate the fallout of this night’s events. The storm was far from over, and with the dark presence of the Sith looming, she couldn’t shake the feeling that worse was yet to come. The outpost’s defenses might hold for now, but the night was young, and the storm outside seemed intent on making its presence known in the most catastrophic ways.

​

 

[Kasir Dorran]

Tags: Palm-Imer

Kasir fixed his gaze upon the woman who questioned him earlier, his expression unreadable. Despite the words that may have normally provoked a reaction, he remained unfazed, simply acknowledging them without a hint of emotion. His eyes then shifted to the other person in the room, the one who had caught his attention only seconds before. He watched their exchange with keen interest, observing every gesture.

The thought of being forced into labor was far from pleasant, rivaled only by the fierce winds and blizzard battering against the very walls that surrounded Kasir. No matter where he found himself in the galaxy, there was only one individual who truly held authority over him. Therefore, this level of cooperation was already beginning to bring uncertainty. At that moment, it felt more practical to simply eliminate them all and seek whatever shelter he could for the night and begin tomorrow with a better and more thought out strategy in search for the relic.

However, he decided to go along with it for now, a decision mainly driven by curiosity. As he trailed behind her, the howl of the snowstorm enveloped him. The auxiliary gates of the outpost soon loomed ahead, the frames appearing battered and worn, struggling to withstand the assault. Flakes of snow were already accumulating in mounds against the base.

Finding himself now hunched over a collection of tools, his brow furrowed in concentration. Determination was etched across his face. With a stubbornness that matched the chill outside, the Sith began to examine the security mechanism, jabbing his gloved fingers at the points of weakness. There was a clank of metal on metal echoing now as Kasir began tightening bolts and trying to reinforce joints, his movements precise yet fueled a deep burning frustration within. As he immersed himself in the whirlwind of tasks and new responsibilities, a figure appeared through while he was also consumed by different thoughts. They offered a hand in assisting, but he merely brushed them off with a simple wave of the hand. "I probably know these gates better than anyone," Kasir would declare, his voice firm. For a short while, he became consumed by his work.

But It didn’t take long for the gears in his mind to begin to shift; he could feel an instinctive and rebellious resolve growing within. Why should he toil endlessly under the disguise of some sort of duty when he could carve his own path? As the woman’s voice was heard once more, annoyance also began to simmer beneath his exterior. He had trained himself to be patient, to lie in wait like a shadow, ready to strike when the moment was right. But this was different. He glanced at her, a mix of emotions flickering across his features, making it impossible to reveal his true intentions. The dark energy emanated from within, threatening to erupt at any given moment. Tonight, he refused to be confined to the role of a mere servant. Kasir halted; his movements were sudden as he carefully set down his tools. He remained crouched, as if he were a statue in that very moment of defiance. Tension filled the small space as another low growl of frustration released under his breath, signaling that he had reached his limit.

“I’ve had enough of this,” he muttered. "You're making enough noise to rival the gates themselves," he added, his tone seemingly calm as he called out to her. Despite his tongue being tempted to release more biting words, he refrained from any violent actions, even with the reassurance of the concealed weapon beneath his cloak. “I think we both know that this pitiful base won’t be able to withstand the wrath of nature for much longer”

 

[Palm-Imer]

B R A C I N G​

WEARING: XxX.
EQUIPMENT: Ghostfire crystal twin lightsabers, blaster guns.
LOCATION: Outpost, Hoth.
TAG: Kasir Dorran

Palm's composure was already on edge as the storm outside raged with increasing fury. She felt every tremor through the walls, each gust of wind battering the outpost with relentless force. The icy chill seemed to seep into her very core, and keeping her focus had already become something that demanded effort.

Kasir’s dismissive wave and harsh words had not gone unnoticed. Palm’s gaze narrowed slightly. She was acutely aware of the Sith’s dark presence and the potential volatility that came with it. The newcomer's attitude did little to help her patience, but the geminaie continued knowing full well that her own irritation was a luxury she couldn’t afford. A confrontation, within the context of an already perilous situation, was a danger she was not willing to bring upon herself - even less so on the members of the outpost's crew.

She took a deep breath and approached him. Her voice was steady but carried a hint of sternness, an inkling of her own mounting frustration. “I understand you’re not thrilled about this situation,” she said, her tone clipped. “But if you have a better solution, I suggest you share it. We’re in this together, whether you like it or not.”

If only she had known what those words would herald.

Without warning, the outpost shuddered violently. A thunderous crash echoed through the structure as if the very earth itself was being torn apart. Her eyes, still meeting Kasir's, widened. I c e q u a k e. It struck with an explosive force, splitting the very floors they stood on into jagged fissures. The ground buckled and twisted, throwing everyone off balance. Palm barely managed to grab onto a nearby support beam, the strength of her natural grip alone putting dentures in it, white-knuckled, as she fought to stay on her feet.

The auxiliary gates, already groaning under the pressure, were no match for the quake's impact. Bolts snapped loose with a horrifying metallic screech, flying through the air like deadly projectiles. The barriers they had tried to reinforce now twisted and buckled as the quake tore through them. Palm ducked as one of the bolts whizzed past her, narrowly missing her head.

Palm's breath came out in ragged gasps as she fought against the icy onslaught. The freezing wind tore at her clothes, biting into her skin with a fierce, unrelenting cold. She struggled to maintain her footing, the floor slick with snow and ice. The screams of the crew were almost drowned out by the storm's fury, their desperate shouts for help mingling with the deafening roar of the wind.

The gates finally gave way, their once-sturdy structure collapsing under the combined force of the storm and the quake. Ice and snow poured into the outpost like a river of death, the frigid torrent instantly overwhelming everyone in its path. Crew members were engulfed by the blizzard's icy wrath, some being swept away in the avalanche of snow and down the crags that had split their last hope of refuge. Palm struggled to shield herself, but the icy surge was relentless. She felt a sharp pain as a piece of debris struck her side, the walls and roofs starting to come undone, sending her crashing into a nearby wall. Dazed and disoriented, she fought to stay conscious as the storm's power threatened to engulf her.

​

 

[Kasir Dorran]

Tags: Palm-Imer

His intense stare fixated on her as she approached him, the echoes of her footsteps on the metallic flooring muffled by the raging storm outside. He remained crouched a moment longer. As she spoke, a subtle sneer curled along his lips, as if revealing a hint of amusement—or perhaps even disdain. It was as if he found her words both laughable and not even worthy of consideration. With deliberate slowness, he straightened, rising to his full height.

The air around him cackled with fury, the sound of his own heartbeat thundering in his ears as the anger surged within. As the tempest brewed beneath the surface, a myriad of emotions was rivaling for control. His mind was meticulously calculating the next move, and the weight of the choices were pressing down on him, each option a potential danger aimed towards the woman standing before him. While the icy winds of Hoth may have bit through his cloak, it was the turmoil in his heart that left Kasir feeling truly cold. Just days ago, he had been surrounded by the familiar comforts of his home, now turned to ashes by the treachery of others within the Sith Order. Betrayal clung to him like a second skin as he stood there wrestling with recent memories.

As the adrenaline coursed through his veins, his eyes began to shift in color, reflecting the deep hatred that consumed him. "Maybe I should rid myself of unnecessary distractions," he declared, his hand reaching for the saberstaff hidden within the folds of his cloak. But just as he was about to unclasp the weapon from his belt, the ground beneath him trembled unexpectedly. It caused him to stumble and lose his balance. Kasir scrambled to stay on his feet, instantly seeing as the planet's surface was split open, revealing depths further than the eye could see. A mere moment later, he could detect the sudden disappearance of several lives. Their existence was instantly snuffed out by the forces of nature, leaving behind a void of death.

Despite being bombarded by debris multiple times, he swiftly navigated through the crumbling environment, fully aware that his only chance of survival was finding a way off this outpost. With the walls and ceiling on the verge of collapse, he scanned the area for the woman whom he had nearly taken the life of, catching a glimpse of her pressed up against a wall.

Each step felt like a dance; the ground beneath him was still shifting, forcing him to concentrate hard just to maintain any composure. As he finally stood next to her, he gritted his teeth, growling softly. “Where is your ship?” he asked, his voice cutting through the chaos. Before he even had a chance of getting a response, he glanced up to see a portion of the roof collapsing towards them. The Sith’s hand shot upward, instinctively harnessing the raw energy within him—his power surged as he focused every ounce of strength to prevent both of them from being crushed. Sweat beaded on his brow as the effort took its toll; he could feel his muscles straining, a reminder of his exhaustion from the earlier journey. With maximum effort, he shifted his stance slightly, casting it aside. It left him panting as he hunched over, the fatigue taking its toll on him.

 

[Palm-Imer]

S U R V I V A L​

WEARING: XxX.
EQUIPMENT: Ghostfire crystal twin lightsabers, blaster guns.
LOCATION: Outpost, Hoth.
TAG: Kasir Dorran

Palm's pulse quickened as she approached Kasir. The air around him was thick with a dark, foreboding energy that made her skin prickle with unease. She saw the sneer on his lips, heard the disdain in his voice as he dismissed her words, but it was the subtle shift in his stance, the way his hand moved toward the saberstaff hidden within his cloak, that set her nerves on edge. The threat was clear—Kasir was on the verge of attacking her.

Instinctively, Palm's hand began to drift toward the weapon at her side. Her gaze sharpened, narrowing on Kasir as the tension between them crackled like the storm outside. She could feel the darkness coiling around him, a tangible force that sent a chill down her spine. Every muscle in her body tensed, ready to react, to defend herself from the imminent strike. The air between them grew thick with the possibility of violence.

The floor buckled violently, and any thoughts of a confrontation were immediately eclipsed by the desperate struggle to stay on her feet as the world around her disintegrated into chaos. The saberstaff, the threat, Kasir's presence—all of it blurred into the background as the full force of the quake hit, ripping through the outpost with a fury that defied comprehension.

Kasir's voice cut through the chaos, sharp and demanding. "Where is your ship?"

Before she could respond, a portion of the roof collapsed, massive chunks of ice and debris hurtling toward them. Palm's heart pounded in her chest as she watched Kasir's hand shoot upward, the dark side of the Force swirling around him as he used every ounce of his strength to hold back the falling debris. His power was immense, but she could see the strain in his expression, the sweat beading on his brow.

As he cast the debris aside, Palm's eyes darted to the platform beneath them. It was shattering, cracking apart as the icequake continued to ravage the outpost. The once-solid ground was now a deadly labyrinth of jagged edges and gaping chasms, threatening to collapse entirely into the icy depths below. The realization hit her with a cold, unforgiving clarity: they were running out of time.

"We need to move, now!" Palm shouted, her voice barely audible over the roar of the storm. She pushed herself away from the wall, fighting against the violent tremors that made every step a struggle. The outpost was collapsing, the ground beneath them disintegrating into a death trap.

But just as she took her first step, the floor beneath her gave way. Palm's breath caught in her throat as she felt herself plummeting, the icy wind whipping past her as she fell toward the gaping chasm below. The edges of the platform crumbled away, leaving her with nothing to grasp onto as she tumbled toward certain death.

In that moment, with the icy abyss rushing up to meet her, Palm knew she was out of options. The storm, the quake, the collapsing outpost—none of it mattered if she couldn't find a way to survive the fall.

​