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 Island’s are sets of winding, ascending and man made pathways.

The crisp, clean, air that wisps off the water planet help cool and maintain a fairly even tropical 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.

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The Islands themselves remain a mystery to this day. The oceans themselves are still uncharted and unexplored. No one knows how the stairs, statutes, and other sporadic architecture came to be on the Islands. It was rumored, however, that they were indeed the home of first Jedi Temple back when the ancient order was first formed.

The salty spray off Ahch-To's world-spanning ocean chapped the Kiffar's lips as he scrabbled up the ancient, roughly-hewn steps. The shrill caw of small birds split the steady lapping of the ocean against the archipelago's sandy coast and bushes and shrubs grew in verdant stretches across the island's otherwise rocky surface.

Terran hated it.

The scenery was breathtakingly beautiful, but with tempers fraying back home and Port Ol'val still undergoing drastic repairs from Whallata the Hutt's occupation, Terran felt compelled to be there, overseeing the reconstruction and making sure his people were safe.

He hated that too.

There were days he would give anything to be back on Nar Shaddaa, on the trail of a bounty or recovering a priceless piece of art or technology for one crime boss or another. No concerns save the current score and where he and his mismatched cohorts would eat that night. He could still hear Isshwarr and Kolot's bantering, the vegetarian and the carnivore eternally at odds. His family had grown, though, whether he liked it or not. On days like today, trudging over island after island, looking for some sign of the elusive Grand Master, he wanted the simplicity of the Smuggler's Moon. After this, he was definitely owed a vacation.

He just hoped the datacard from Oricon was right. If they'd come all the way out here, without a One Sith safehouse to show for it, he and Thayer were going to have words. The Arconan spy had been confident that Oricon would eventually lead them to Pravus' location, but Club Vertica had been nothing but a disappointment. Even if the brief return to Nar Shaddaa's poignant air had been invigorating, he couldn't afford to let himself enjoy it. Not with tensions mounting and the specter of war looming in the distance.

His Marksman-H Training Remote chimed a complex pattern of beeps and his cobalt eyes swung towards it. Isshwarr - now halfway around the planet with Kolot in tow, searching their own series of islands - had reprogrammed the small device to detect power signatures more than a few meters from Terran's person. Hopefully, if Pravus or any of the erstwhile One Sith were here, it would detect their gear.

The remote spun and jittered in place for a moment before zipping to the north and down a nearby slope. The Kiffar followed easily, leaving the steps behind and making steady progress through the trees and bushes that covered the hill. Halfway down the gentle slope, the remote paused in mid-air. It spun energetically around its axis and Terran ducked behind a nearby trunk. Either it had lost the signal or they were close. With extreme care, he slowly peeked out from behind the tree…

...and a lightsaber snap-hissed to life, centimeters from his chin. Terran's eyes moved down the blade, then up the figure holding it. The saber spoke of simple elegance, in stark contrast to the cadaverous features its emerald blade lit. The gray skin would be at home on a corpse. The inky eyes were a solid black void in recessed sockets. The wickedly-pointed teeth would make a rancor jealous. The creature's fingers were skeletal and tipped with claws that could rend flesh from bone. He was a thing of childrens' nightmares. He was a psychopath's fetishistic fantasies.

"Really?" Terran scoffed. "Again?"

"Where is Kraln?" Korroth asked softly. His saber was held steady, but his left hand moved to his utility belt, stroking his stun cuffs unconsciously. "You escaped Jan-gwa City, but you're not getting off this island until I have him in my custody."

The Kiffar sighed and slowly shook his head. Karkin' spies! This would be so much easier if he could just tell the Pau'an that Thayer wasn't an actual One Sith. "Look, just leave Thayer to Arcona. We have him well in hand."

The Odanite's mouth twisted into an ugly snarl and the Kiffar could have sworn he saw light glinting off the Pau'an's sharpened teeth. "How long have you been working with them, Koul? When did you betray us?"

Terran watched his assailant's saber tilt into a high guard as the Pau'an took a single step back. With a sigh, he launched his own blade from its wrist-mounted sheath. He caught the saber deftly and ignited it, the ochre hue battling back the emerald light from Korroth's own. With his free hand, he drew the WESTAR-35 from his back and bent slightly at the knees.

"So we're doing this?"

He really hated this place.

Though the two humanoids held their gazes steady, watching for what minute twitch or eye movement would signal the commencement of hostilities, brooding thoughts still pulled at the Odanite’s focus. His mind turned to the steps he had taken to trail Terran without being followed himself. He could almost feel the weight of the dozen unanswered comm–calls on his wrist–mounted device. The Council on Kiast, Korroth had known from the outset, would not approve of what he was doing. They’d call it “Jeopardising relations with our Lotus allies for no good reason,” and seeing his lack of hard evidence the Pau’an wouldn’t blame them. But he believed his suspicions of Koul’s involvement with Iron Throne collaborators was not a simple hunch. It was the will of the Force that had guided Terran and he to this place, and with this thought the Jedi steeled his resolve to the fight.

A salty breeze swept into the copse of maritime pines. Korroth followed its course, sliding forward and pressing his emerald blade into the Arconan’s guard. Terran deflected the thrust, but instead of coming in with a riposte, his lightsaber went far out to the side, hissing through a tree trunk.

For a second the popping of overheated sap and the flapping of startled birds filled the air. Then the evergreen groaned and crashed down. Korroth jumped back, but all the same his entire field of vision was assailed by branches and pine needles plummeting to the ground. For a moment all he could think about were the prickly leaves that had slipped down the back of his tunic, but then a bolt of blue energy blazed through the foliage, buzzing past the Pau’an’s ear. Neither combatant could see the other, but Terran still had the range advantage. Korroth scrambled down the hill, chased by a wild barrage of blaster bolts. The Odanite dodged tree trunks and slid down scree slopes, until all he could hear were his own footsteps.

He stopped. No more blaster fire, no more branches cracking, only the excited chitter of the island’s small avian creatures in the trees. He turned back, peering amongst the rocks and shrubbery even as he imagined a gun sight being trained on his chest. His eyes caught nothing, but his consciousness slipped into the flow of the Force, spreading out over the hillside. It was as if the Kiffar was never there.

In a flash of clarity, the Force carried Korroth’s attention up into the canopy, where birds had converged on a particular pine that shadowed an outcrop of rock. The Force did not reveal the focus of their animated twittering and fluttering, but it was evident they were protecting a number of nests on that tree.

“Found you,” the Pau’an muttered. He extended a hand towards the feathery creatures, letting their panicked agitation wash over him. They were already in the grip of a flight or flight response; all the Jedi needed to do was push them slightly in the right direction.

Three of the birds dove behind the rocky outcrop. There was a surprised yell. A set of arms waved wildly above the rock, then the avians beat a hasty retreat. That was all the Pathfinder needed. The distraction allowed him to close the distance, sprinting straight for the outcrop. The Force pooled into his long legs, so that when he finally pushed off the ground, the Force-fed momentum carried him up and over the rock.

Two blaster bolts followed Korroth’s leap. One he caught on his blade, the other singed the hem of his kama. He hit the ground with a roll, and the Arconan didn’t allow him to take back the initiative. Terran dropped his pistol and went straight in with his lightsaber. Still kneeling, the Odanite deflected the amber blade above his head, then riposted in a tight arch towards Terran’s wrists. The Kiffar pulled back his arms, and this gave Korroth the space to recover his upright stance—body inclined away from his opponent, arms raised above his head and blade parallel to the ground.

Terran mirrored the posture, throwing a scowl in Korroth’s direction. He leaked blood from a fresh cut to his forehead, angry red scratches marked his cheeks and in his even messier hair stood out a few grey feathers. It was obvious he was not enjoying his sojourn on the island.

His jaw twitched as a crimson rivulet slid down his nose, the slices on his cheeks tiny lines of fire crisscrossing his pale skin. The screech of birds in the trees above, angrily cawing at the pair to evacuate their territory, was just icing on the cake. The Kiffar growled under his breath and tightened his grip on his saber. He swiped at the trail of blood from his forehead.

He hated this place.

Terran drew on the Force as he lunged forward, his blade a blur of ochre fire, and Korroth responded in kind. The cadaverous Pau'an stepped into the attack, his own emerald saber deflecting the slash with ease, shunting it away. The Arconan side-stepped to his right, but the Odanite mimicked the Kiffar's footwork, thrusting with his own blade. Terran's lightsaber twirled to intercept, a movement so fluid and precise it would have seemed sedate were it not for its preternatural speed; but the Pathfinder's wrists were quicksilver and he struck back with a rapidity that defied sight.

Verdant plasma struck sparks against ochre flame. The Force-born ferocity of the blow reflected in the Pathfinder's eyes and caught the Kiffar off guard. Terran stepped back and scree shifted beneath his boots. It was only for an instant, when years of well-honed instincts warred with the Jensaarai's precarious footing, but it was enough. Korroth exploded. His hands became a torrent of deadly green light. His emerald blade beat against Terran's saber, a staccato rhythm that had been the heartbeat of the Old Republic itself. Blade met blade in a blur of coruscating fire. A half dozen sharp retorts that screamed of bonds breaking. A dozen sparking strikes that could sunder an alliance.

Then the Kiffar's lightsaber shifted. The movement was miniscule, the natural result of the island's humid, salt-kissed air. It was a centimeter at most, unnoticeable, unremarkable. And when the Pau'an struck, it knocked the blade from Terran's sweat-slicked palms.

The Arconan recoiled from the Jedi, leaping back instinctively. He ripped the dun duster from his back, palming a small cylinder with his left hand as he flung the coat towards the Odanite with his right. The Kiffar drew the blaster at his hip as the towering Pau'an sliced the duster down the middle. Terran let off a salvo of blue bolts and Korroth's blade struck in a dizzying spiral, ricocheting them in several directions. He moved forward, undeterred, and Terran snapped off a few more blasts as he retreated. The Pau'an blocked them all, even as his breath grew short.

Terran grit his teeth and let loose another salvo. The Pathfinder's hands moved without thought and the Arconan seized the moment. He tossed the cylinder towards the Jedi and clenched his eyes shut as the blade tore through it. Then a loud pop filled the clearing as the grenade burst, bathing the pair of combatants in adhesive.

The Kiffar opened his eyes, taking in the sight of the cadaverous Pau'an literally looking down at him in rage and disbelief, covered in glue. He had been abandoned and raised by strangers. He had watched friends die. He had killed former allies. Not laughing was still the hardest thing he had ever done. He managed, barely. He only had moments to plead his case.

"Listen, Korroth…" Terran began. "I know you're angry. You think I've betrayed the Lotus. I get it. But we're stuck here, at least for a few seconds, so do the Jedi thing. Listen. And use the Force."

The Jedi's eyes were chips of black ice, but he met the Kiffar's gaze.

"I run Port Ol'val. The entire asteroid was trashed by invaders. Our people are starving. We're still diverting food and supplies to the Lotus. I've risked my life smuggling undesirables to Kiast. I'm not a Sith. And you're going to have to trust me - Thayer isn't either. No matter appearances, he's on our side. If you're half the Jedi Turel claims, you know it's true."

As the adhesive broke down, the Kiffar could practically see the wheels turning in the Pau'an's domed head. Finally, Korroth gave a nearly imperceptible nod.

Terran sighed in relief and took his first deep breath in what felt like years. "So, want to help me catch some One Sith?"

The Pathfinder quirked a single brow and bared his jagged teeth. "Lead the way."

Just then a bird swept down and pecked at the Kiffar's tousled hair.

He really hated this place.

“I know you’re just trying to do right by your people,” Korroth proffered, his guard never wavering. “But I’m telling you, you’ll regret doing it with the help of the Sith.”

“Is that a threat?” The Kiffar circled Korroth, his feet shifting carefully over the rocky ground. “Because you haven’t delivered so far.”

“No, it’s my offer of help. Tell me what you know and we can drive out the Sith infl—”

Terran interrupted with a burst of laughter. “You’ve got it all wrong. But that’s what comes from sticking your big bony nose where it doesn’t belong.” He was silhouetted against the steel–grey sky now, his heels close to the lip of the rocky outcrop. “I just want you to go away so I can complete my assignment!”

The Arconan was holding something back, and that only spurred Korroth on. The Odanite’s back foot slid forwards and his shoulders rotated, taking his green blade on its most direct route to its target. Terran intercepted the thrust with prescient alacrity, but instead of pushing for a counterattack he retreated, bent his knees and vaulted backwards, off the outcrop and down the slope.

Korroth saw him land on the hillside. He leaped after the Kiffar, but as soon as his boots were off the rock he felt an invisible hand jerk down at his ankle. Suddenly his jump turned into an uncontrolled descent. Lightsaber deactivated and arms splayed like a panicked loth–cat, the Odanite came down just as a blaster bolt seared into his thigh. He struck the ground, shots whizzing past him, but his leg collapsed under him and the impetus of the jump pushed him into an unchecked roll down the hillside.

The Pau’an tumbled and bounced off boulders and rocks, the slope getting steeper and steeper, until the parapet of a cliff appeared in front of him. He clutched at the ground, letting go of his lightsaber, but his momentum carried him over the edge. He scraped down the near–vertical cliff face until his fingers clasped onto a jagged rocky handhold.

For a minute the pain in his wounded leg was almost unbearable, but then he guided the flow of the Force through it, dulling the sensation to a mere throbbing pressure. He looked down to see, at least half a dozen metres below him, a pebble beach and some of the domed drystone cells that dotted the island. Hanging there by the strength of his arms, the Jedi began to feel the battle exhaustion set into his limbs. His thoughts wandered to the hermits’ cells below him. These ancient people had gone to such great lengths to leave the galaxy behind them, along with its politics and conflicts. Had this brought them farther from the Force, or closer to it? Was there another reason that the Force had brought Korroth here?

Suddenly the Jedi spotted his saber hilt, glinting amongst the drystone structures. He also felt his opponent’s presence pushing into the edge of his Force awareness. Korroth diverted all his focus to the lightsaber below, willing it to fly to his grasp, but the cylinder didn’t move. He heard footsteps approaching the cliff edge. The hilt quivered, but did not lift. At that moment a soundless voice penetrated the Pau’an’s consciousness through the Force: Let go!

At first his judgement overrode this Force–driven impulse, but then he heard the footsteps stop, and a shiny, beeping fist–sized cylinder dropped off the edge of the cliff. Korroth pushed himself off the cliff face, but it was too late.

The Arconan leaned over the edge. As the dust settled, a body appeared on the pebble beach. It was surrounded by blasted rocks and rubble. Terran could still feel the flicker of life within the Pau’an, but barely. The explosive must have detonated above him and showered him with debris.

Passing a hand through his hair, Terran looked up to the horizon, which was a perfect line separating the dull silvery sea from a uniformly clouded sky. He wondered if he could reconsider his opinion of this place now that, at least, the Jedi was out of the picture, but at that moment a fine drizzle began to descend, the kind that scarcely tickles the skin but soaks every fabric to the core in mere minutes.

“Nope. Still hate it.”