Disclamer: I don't own anything that George Lucas already owns. All hail Lucas!
White. Blinding, blinding, white. But what else would you expect on Hoth? Seejah Ystnko stepped out of his small hut. He was lucky the cold didn't bother him. His teal tentacles hung in front of his face, and he swept them away like hair. He was dressed in a brown cloak, yet he wasn't cold. His people, an unknown race from the farthest reaches of the galaxy, were resilient to almost all types of terrain. They could even breathe underwater. He glanced out, and there was still nothing but white.
He walked back into his hut, and sat at his snow-covered desk. Out of the window, he could see the ruins of the old Republic base. He was placed here on special assignment four years ago. In the words of Master Skywalker, "Because he was the best Jedi for the job." Damn, he thought, he lied to me. And I couldn't see it. Damn. He stared at the holocron on his desk, waiting, drumming his fingers, just like he had for four years.
There wasn't another intelligent being around for miles. He picked up a lightsaber hilt, and fiddled with it again. He had been customizing it forever, and almost had it right. He just had to reconfigure the blade extender with the super-powered third crystal and the CPU and…Done! He flicked the power switch, and a 4 and ½ foot long orange blade popped out of the hilt. He walked into another room, and sliced at a piece of scrap metal left over from putting up his shack. It cut through it like a knife through butter. And if the configuration was right…something amazing would happen. The top part slid off, and exploded. Perfect.
Suddenly, a hail of beeps, clicks, and whirs echoed through the hut. He ran through to his desk, and noticed that the holocron had activated. An image of Luke Skywalker floated about six inches above the holocron. "Hello, Seejah. If you are hearing this message, than I have just activated a Protocol Four distress call. I chose you for outpost duty on Hoth because I knew that you were one of the best Jedi in the academy, and that we need your help. Protocol Four is so rarely used, that almost no one knows what it is. It means that the temple has been attacked, and we have lost. I have a tracer implanted in my skin, and you can use this holocron to track us. Be careful Seejah. The Sith that attacked must have been pretty powerful, or we would not have been taken over. I hereby grant upon you the title of Jedi Knight of the High Order. Master Skywalker out."
Seejah flicked his lightsaber off. He force ran toward the old republic base. That was where he kept his modified V-wing. His old starfighter was useless, and he had taken one of the old V-wings in the hanger and tricked it out. He hopped in, and plugged the holocron into one of the tracker ports. It was going to be a long ride from here on out.