The ocean world of Ahch-To looks to be nothing but blue seas from the distance of space. Dotting the oceans, however, are chains of rocky island that jut upwards to form shallow, sloping mountain ranges with small, flattened plateaus. Rich green trees and other small flora grow along the sedimentary stone, untouched by anything more than small avian creatures looking for a place to nest. Carved into the stones of the various islands are sets of winding, ascending and man-made pathways.

The crisp, clean air that wisps off the ocean helps maintain a fairly mild temperature during the day, with a healthy chill at sunset. Storms have been reported to flare up from time to time, leaving only the highest points of the islands safe from a rising tide. Porgs litter the islands, the oceans teem with a wide variety of fish, and large, docile Thala-sirens loiter on the rocky shores.

Although better known as the legendary home of the Jedi Order, a species of small-statured amphibious natives live simple lives as caretakers of the Jedi ruins. The ruins themselves are primarily small collections of stone huts, although numerous hidden caves dot the islands. Some contain evidence of previous habitation; many more house strong Force auras with mysterious effects on sentient beings, particularly Force-sensitives.

Brotherhood investigators believe that Ahch-To may still be home to a number of relics hidden away by the ancient Jedi Order. Recently they have uncovered the location of what they believe to be a large cache of artifacts, hidden in a cave on one of Ahch-To's remote islands. This information is a closely guarded secret, and you have been handed the task of uncovering and retrieving these relics. Other members of the Brotherhood, however, have also learned of the artifacts location. Another agent has been sent to follow you and retrieve the artifacts for their own purposes.

Ahch-To, Plateau Trail

Dusk

The tide licked at the cliffs below, sending gusts of salt-heavy air across the island. Evening had begun to settle, coating the sky in ash-blue shadows. Porgs darted between crags, their calls distant and uneasy.

H’Grah stood tall atop a rise, his dark fur slick with mist, his breath steady. A storm churned somewhere offshore - and in the Force, another storm loomed far closer.

He had followed a vision here. A cave, half-swallowed by the sea. Jedi relics - old, forgotten, and echoing pain. They called not with hunger, but with warning.

He wasn't the only one who heard it. From the far path, the sound of heavy metal footsteps shattered the peace.

Clank… clank… clank…

The Wookiee’s brow lowered as a black silhouette crested the ridge. Broad shoulders. Thick armor plating. Red optics glowing faintly behind a battle-worn faceplate.

A B-2 series super battle droid. Pre-Clone Wars model. Reinforced.

It came to a halt a dozen meters from him and raised both arms.

“HOSTILE JEDI TARGET IDENTIFIED,” the droid boomed. “ENGAGING.”

H’Grah didn’t flinch. He simply unclipped his saberstaff and ignited both blades — emerald light hissing to life.

Then he charged.

The droid fired first — a flurry of blaster bolts screamed toward him. H’Grah dipped and twisted between them, letting two scorch his robe as he closed the distance with unnatural speed for his size. The Wookiee’s roar split the air as he leapt, body curling midair before slamming down on the droid with the weight of a falling landspeeder.

Ken staggered.

The green blade of the saberstaff swept upward in a brutal arc, carving deep into the droid’s chestplate. Sparks exploded, servos screamed. Ken retaliated, one massive arm swinging to backhand the Jedi across the trail. The impact sent H’Grah skidding across the wet grass, dirt tearing underfoot — but he rose instantly, blood trickling from his lip, fire in his eyes.

The Wookiee let out a deep growl. No droid would guard relics. Someone had sent it.

As if in answer, a slow clap echoed from the trail behind the droid. From the trees emerged a tall Zabrak in tattered robes. Pale vitiligo patches ran across his orange skin. He wore no helmet — just a self-satisfied smirk and a relaxed stance that said “I’ve already won.”

Itzo Maelemi.

The Zabrak gave a mock salute. “Meet Ken. He doesn’t talk much, but he’s great with introductions.”

H’Grah didn’t reply. Wookiees couldn’t speak Basic, but the contempt in his silence was loud enough. He squared up again, saber spinning once in his grip before settling into a low, aggressive guard.

Ken lunged forward, one fist smashing down like a sledgehammer. H’Grah sidestepped, dragging his saber across the droid’s knee joint as it passed - servos snapped, and the leg locked. The next strike from H’Grah’s saberstaff shattered the droid’s arm clean off in a spray of metal.

Still, it kept fighting.

“Try not to break him too much,” Itzo called from the rear. “He’s expensive.” H’Grah roared again - not in rage, but resolve - and drove both blades into Ken’s torso. The droid twitched, locking up as its core overloaded in a blinding flash. When it fell, it hit the ground like a collapsed turret.

Only now did Itzo’s saber hiss to life — a single amber blade, held low and loose at his side.

He stepped forward at last, his expression now focused.

“That was the easy part, Wook."

The Wookie Jedi charged forward, past the still sparking frame of the damaged droid, twin emerald blades casting their glow onto the rapidly darkening rocks. Itzo watched with narrowed yellow eyes, the relaxed smirk slowly sliding off his face as the focus of combat took over. He was still mildly annoyed the Jedi had bested his bodyguard, but he wasn’t going to show it. Still, the credits he’d get for this relic would be more than enough to fix up Ken - even upgrade him - with plenty left over. The information about its location had been solid, they had just neglected to inform him that a Wookie would also be hunting for it. And that Wookie would have a lightsaber.

H’Grah closed the last few meters quicker than Itzo was expecting, and he brought his blade up at the last second to block the blow. The two lightsabers crashed into each other, a shower of sparks raining down. The power of the impact pushed Itzo back on the slick rock. He spun to the left and deflected another heavy blow; the vibrations rattled up his arm painfully. Dodging another strike, this one a horizontal sweeping attack that nearly caught the Zabrak on the back of the head, Itzo channeled the Force into his fist and swung upward. An invisible fist collided with the chin of H’Grah violently, knocking his head backward, but the Wookie stood strong.

Itzo rolled out of the way and hopped to his feet; a flash of lightning briefly illuminated the sky, but the roll of thunder was drowned out by the roar from the Wookie as he continued to press the attack, not letting up.

“Clearly I’ve underestimated you, Wook, but let's not do this.” Itzo implored the Jedi as their blades met again. He was forced to move his lightsaber quickly to counter the heavy, chaotic fighting style of his opponent. H’Grah continued to be unresponsive, the only sounds coming from his mouth were the grunts of combat. Though Itzo was able to keep up with the Wookie in strikes, the power behind each blow meant that the Zabrak was steadily being pushed backward. After a short flurry of attacks, he had to reposition or risk being tossed clean off the cliff, into the murky waters below.

The two blades collided again, illuminating each man’s face in the evening darkness. H’Grah showed no signs of slowing even slightly. Itzo was definitely breathing heavier and he could feel a few tendrils of sweat curling down his cheeks. This fight was starting to get dangerous, he needed to end it quickly. He pushed off the emerald blade and jumped back a few meters.

“Listen, pal, you seem like a nice enough guy. I don’t want to kill you. Why don’t I cut you in this deal? I already got a buyer lined up, I can give you 10% of the final price if we just call it here.” The Zabrak bargained, still keeping his orange lightsaber ignited and in front of him as he spoke. He held his other hand behind his back, small arcs of electricity darting between his fingers. “Whaddaya say?”

H’Grah didn’t respond, but their two minds collided briefly, and the Wookie passed his answer to Itzo. Not with words, but with feeling. No.

“Wrong answer, Wook.” He brought his free hand forward and blue-white lightning strands leapt from his fingers across the battlefield.