He was definatly a loner. He was the best at being a loner. If anyone else was better at being a loner, he would shoot them himself. Quite frankly, Kaniss did not like people. Was it because they betrayed him? Was it because he felt awkward around them? Was it because they were intimidated by him? No, the assassin didn't need a reason. If anyone felt otherwise, Kaniss would have them know that they could feel free to convince him of their beliefs. Of course, he would probably shoot them.

The rain poured down upon him, but he didn't care. His battle armor kept him dry. It did that, and a whole lot more. Without the useful piece of equipment, he would likely be dead. As the assassin trudged across the plains of whatever the hell planet he was on, he did not feel the moisture, just his suit. Spending years in the thing without ever taking it off would be more than enough to drive a normal human crazy, but Kaniss was no normal human. The suit was no longer his second skin, it was his only skin. He had forgotten what it was like any other way.

As he continued, he did not notice the serenity that surrounded him. He did not notice the nature. No, he had night vision on, as always. The only reason he did not keep it on thermal was because it would probably blind him after extensive periods of time. Sure, his equipment was outdated, but he could still kick ass in it. That was good enough for him. To Kaniss, living had no meaning to him. However, survival was bolded, italisized, underlined, and increasing in sise several times in his mental vocabulary. He was here to survive, and he would do anything he could to fulfill that goal for as long as he could. It would drive a normal man crazy, but again, Kaniss was no normal man.

@#%$! his "luck sense", or so he called it, had kicked in. Danger was close, too close for Kaniss to not have noticed. He dropped towards the ground, flipping himself as he did so to land on his back. Just in time. A few blaster bolts flew overhead, right where he had been. The assassin's weapon of choice, his "pistol", was out in a flash. Firing at point blank, for he strangely didn't know where his enemy was, he emptied his clip. Swearing to himself that he had hit something, he reloaded in under three seconds, a skill that had come with years and years and years of hands on experience. Pulling his feet towards him and shooting his knees into the air, he used his honed leg muscles to fling himself back into a standing position. Pistol leveled, eye in scope, he scanned the entire area. It was quiet, way too quiet. He hadn't heard a thing in that attack other than the blaster bolts and his responding fire. His search came up with nothing, which wasn't normal. He had nightvision on, he should've found something.

It didn't make any sense to him. Was this a hit and run attack? If so, why? They, whoever "they" were, seemed to have him beaten, why didn't they go for the kill? So many thoughts spun around in his head, and the beginnings of a headache lurked in the corners of his mind.

Not again..., Dropping his pistol, Kaniss dove to his right, grabbing his legs and pulling them in tight as he hit the ground into a roll. He narrowly avoided the attack, but as he looked back, he could find no signs of it. He couldn't find any signs of his pistol either. This fight was getting stranger and stranger.

If Kaniss had known the attack for what it was, he would be in fast retreat. But he didn't, so he stubbornly held his position, rifle in hand. The rifle was heavier than his pistol, and its automatic rate of fire provided with too much unneccesary recoil, so it remained a secondary weapon to the assassin. Still, it suited its purpose in times when he found himself robbed of his pistol.

"Who are you?! What do you want?!" Kaniss growled out, fed up with the recent events.

"Congradulations, you pass the test." A voice called out from behind him.

In a one fluid motion, Kaniss turned, dove, and fired. While his accuracy was decreased even more with the dive, the assassin knew that at least some of them would find their mark, and that was all it took. This easily explains why he was shocked after he came out of his backwards roll into a kneeling position.

There was the owner of the voice, and by the looks of him, he seemed perfectly fine. But when he examined the figure more carefully, he quickly found answers to many of his questions. He turned to thermal vision to make sure. Yes, his observation was confirmed. The man, from the sound of his voice, held a lightsaber in one hand.

Oh how I hate Jedi...and Sith... he thought to himself. Kaniss was no fan of Force wielders, and he thought them, with good reason, to be bad business. If there was one thing that could prevent an assassination from going off without a hitch, it was a Jedi. And hating Sith explains itself.

"Not a big fan of our kind, are you, assassin?" the Force wielder spoke once more, not suprising Kaniss as much as he probably had hoped. Kaniss knew about the mind reading capabilities of Force wielders, "If only you knew..."

"What? What should I know?!" Kaniss shouted, finding it very easy to hate this man very quickly.

"That is not important." The Jedi/Sith replied, "What is important is that you passed the test, as I said before. You are now worthy of our time. You successfully attacked me once, and no matter how small the wound, no matter how glancing the blow, that is enough."

This is getting really old!, Kaniss thought as he dove to the side. His rifle came to life, bullets flying in the direction of the Force wielder. The lightsaber also came to life, deflecting every projectile with movements that, until know, the assassin thought impossible.

"Enough!" Came a loud cry, and Kaniss found himself obeying, "I did not come here to fight, despite my actions. It will all be explained in the letter."

Kaniss froze as if he was glued to the ground. He wanted to move, but he couldn't. His nightvision was turned off, getting enough light from the lightsaber, and he could clearly see the orange tinted visor of the Force wielder. And then, before he could even cry out "What letter?", it was gone, and so was the Jedi/Sith.

His nightvision came back to life, and he scanned the area. Where he had been standing before was an ancient projectile. An arrow, Kaniss thought it was called. Attatched to it was a piece of paper, another ancient item. He walked over and tore it off, his eyes boring into it. He then dropped it, for his greatest fears had finally been confirmed.