Korriban, 3635 BBY
I cough. It's a hard, long cough, directly from my lungs. Around me, the sandstorm doesn't seem to get any better. Sand, dust, bits of dried blood, they all fly all around. The wind howls in my ears, even though they're protected by the hood I'm wearing. I wipe the visor of my mask yet again. My gloves become stained with the red soil of this world. This, my accursed, damned, blessed, sacred, homeworld.
Everything is dark. Even the powerful white light of the spotlights behind me can't pierce the reddish darkness that oppresses us. I can't see the sun. Even the looming shape of the Academy is obscured by the storm.
I get up from the rock I've been using to try and get some sleep, and walk down the trench. Some soldiers stop to salute as I come close to them. I can't see their faces below their helmets, but I can tell they're exhausted. Hunched shoulders, all the weight on one leg, hands trembling. Some have blood-stained bandages around their arms, legs, or chests. Eighty-six hours of uninterrupted combat will do that to you. Right now, the Eternals have given us some respite from the daily pummeling, but they'll be back soon.
I see another figure clad in black robes down the trench. His hood is down, and he doesn't seem bothered at all by the wind, the dust or the sand. He's peering over the edge, his hair flapping around. His pale skin gives away a lifetime of Dark Side corruption. He senses me, and turns around to face me, his hand on the lightsaber at his hip. Old habits die hard.
"Darth Eress." I bow my head respectfully, and his hand moves away from the weapon.
"Lord Vigil. Did you manage to get any sleep?" he asks, stepping down from the bench and dusting his robes.
"Only a few hours. Any word from Lord Infernus?"
"Not yet. It's been two hours now, he should have checked in." Darth Eress frowns. It's strange. In normal circumstances, he would have been happy that his fellow triumvir and rival seemed to be MIA. But these are not normal circumstances. Nothing has been normal, these last months.
"I'm sure he's fine." I say. I wipe my visor again, and red dust flies away. "In this weather, I'd be surprised if he managed to reach us by regular comms."
He lets out a soft growl, as if agreeing. Then, he flicks his hand dismissively.
"Get to the left flank, and prepare the Blood Guard. It won't be long before the Eternals attack again."
"As you wish, Darth Eress." I say, bowing my head again. Then, I walk away.
As I make my way to where the Blood Guard commandos are stationed, I see many scenes that prove the disgraceful state the Imperial Forces are in. I see a soldier leaning against the trenchwall. As I walk past him, I see he's missing part of his left leg. I go through a makeshift field hospital, with dozens of dead and wounded soldiers laying on lines of torn mats and rugs, because it's been three days since the last bed was torn to splinters during a bombing run. Even the howling wind and my mask cannot hide the stench of rot, human filth and blood.
I don't like to admit it, even to myself, but it's unlikely we'll survive another assault. According to the last reports, Darth Atroxa and Grand Inquisitor Ulkaen aren't doing well themselves either. Atroxa is defending the Academy, right behind Darth Eress's position, with the last of our aircraft and artillery batteries, while Ulkaen is to our right, holding the Tomb of Tulak Hord.
"Who goes there?" I hear. I stop immediately, concentrating on the Force to scan my surroundings. There's a man, behind a rock right ahead.
"Lord Vigil. Name and rank, soldier." I answer, my hand on my lightsaber.
Then, I hear a sigh of relief. The man exits his cover, and I see the black and red armor of the Blood Guard. The left side of his helmet is burnt, and the visor is shattered.
"Colonel Lucien, my Lord. My apologies, I thought you were another one of their infiltrators." he says, his voice neutral but tired. He salutes, and immediately, a dozen shapes come out of the sand all around us. The commandos stand to attention.
I nod, acknowledging their salutes.
"At ease, men. How are things going over here?" I ask.
"Not good, but we've managed until now. We can keep doing so, my Lord." the Colonel answers, making a gesture at his men to return to cover. "However, we are low on ammunition. We haven't gotten a resupply since yesterday, and that attack last night has drained our reserves quite a lot."
I let out a sigh of frustration. I can feel the anger warming me up from the inside, but I control it. It's not their fault. The enemy knows the left flank is the least defended, and so they launch savage attacks every now and then. Originally, this position was held by four commando units from the Special Forces, the Hellcats, the Alpha Raiders, the Blood Guard and the Axes of Ziost, but now, after almost four days of continuous battles, only the Blood Guard remains, and their numbers dwindle with every new attack.
"Have some men venture out to gather power packs from our dead" I tell the Colonel. He nods, salutes and walks away, giving orders to his surviving soldiers in a low voice.
I peer over the edge of the trench and look upon the wasteland in which we will fight and most probably die when the Eternals launch their final attack. The ground is littered with bodies, which are slowly being covered by sand and dust from the storm. There are flaming hulks here and there, marking the spot where our last tanks and walkers have been destroyed. They burn with green and blue chemical fires, colorful beacons in the darkness. A reddish crust is forming over my visor again, and I curse as I wipe it off.
They say the red colour of the sands of Korriban is due to the blood of the Acolytes that have died on this sacred ground. I have never given credit to those stories, but I do know the sand will be redder at the end of the day. I smirk. How ironic. We were once so powerful we could allow ourselves to believe in such legends. We were so numerous, we could let hundreds of thousands of Acolytes die at the hands of the cruel weather, the wildlife and each other. And in less than a month, our glorious Empire has turned into this. Eight hundred wounded, exhausted and starving soldiers and Sith.
My mind drifts through memory, and I find myself thinking about a particularly violent moment from the past four days. It was the second day of the siege. I was in outpost 1-54, assisting Darth Nobula in the defence of a strategically important checkpoint, against waves of enemy soldiers. At one point, Nobula and his men got cut off from my forces. I could still see them from my advantageous position at the top of the hill, but I was unable to help at all, since I was busy trying to avoid getting massacred by the endless tide of Sky Troopers and Zakuul Knights that swarmed the defensive position. What an end they made, the old Sith Lord and his last handful of commandos! The soldiers made a circle around Nobula, firing until they ran out of ammunition. Then, they fixed bayonets and kept fighting, with their blades, the butts of their rifles, and bare hands. In the end, I could see Darth Nobula, his sword a red blur that cut down enemies right and left, standing on a mound of dead bodies and screaming, first in rage, then in pain, and then in laughter.
I wonder if my end will be like that. I chuckle to myself again, thinking on the pointlessness of it all. Even if I do die heroically, it won't matter, for there will be no one left alive to remember it.
My comm unit buzzes to life:
"Lord Vigil, this is Darth Eress. Status report." says a distorted voice.
"Colonel Lucien and his men are still alive, my Lord." I answer into the microphone. "They're low on ammo, but they can still fight. Still no word from Lord Infernus?"
"Negative. I can't reach Lord Vallshares or Lord Myfanwy either. This goddamn storm is going to get us all killed." he grumbles through the channel. "Come back to the command post, Lord Vigil. We have much to do, and little time to do it."
"Copy. On my way." I turn to leave, but then I feel a hand on my shoulder. I look back, surprised. It's been a while since the last time anyone dared to touch me.
"Um, my Lord?" a thin Zabrak is standing behind me. She's clad in grey robes and a black cape, and her inadequate training foil hangs from her back. I see a blood-stained bandage around her head that covers one of her eyes. I recognize her immediately.
"Apprentice Umeliya. What is it?" I ask, facing her.
"Some of the men are whispering. They say it's not true there are reinforcements coming. They say the entire Empire has fallen to the Eternals. Is there truth in this, my Lord?" she asks, her voice neutral.
I scrutinize her carefully. Umeliya is a brave and capable warrior, and I'm sure she will be a great Sith one day, but she's also incredibly unlucky when it comes to masters. She has lost two already, one in combat, and another one to Darth Eress. I pity her, but I also know I can't help her. I don't take students anymore.
"What do you want me to say, apprentice? That it is true? That there is no fleet coming to rescue us, that the Dark Council is not going to launch a surprise attack from behind, that we are probably the last beacon of hope and resistance in the Empire?" I tell her. She remains silent and unflinching, and I admire her bravery. "Pay no heed to what others say. You see this patch of earth? This is the Empire. You have to use your weapon, and your own body to defend the Empire. You cannot step back, or the Empire is lost. Tell me, apprentice, are you going to let the enemy through?"
"No, my Lord."
"Are you going to defend this patch of earth you're standing on, your own personal piece of the Empire?"
"Yes, my Lord."
"Then do it. Defend your Empire. Each and every one of these men will do the same. If you doubt, if you falter, draw on their strength to stand your ground. Only then will we be able to fend them off, one more time." my little speech is attracting gazes, so I lower my voice. "Stay focused, stay alert, and you'll make it."
"Yes, my Lord." she answers. She coughs, and drapes herself further in her cape. I can say no more, so I turn and walk away.
I reach Darth Eress's position again ten minutes later. The wind doesn't seem to be getting any better. The ground is starting to accumulate the finer dust, becoming soft, and hard to walk on. I enter the tent that serves as a command center, in a widened section of the trench. Inside, Darth Eress, another Sith and two Imperial officers are gathered around a table with some maps on it. Our holoprojectors have long since died from lack of electricity, and so we must now rely on these less accurate means of orientation.
I bow before the two Sith and give a curt nod to the two officers.
"Ah, Lord Vigil. Join us. I believe you are acquainted with Inquisitor Zel-maras?" Eress says. His hood is down, and though we're somewhat protected from the wind, I have to pay close attention to his words, because the flapping of the material of the tent rivals even the howl of the storm.
The man he's referring to is probably the biggest man I've ever seen in my life. He's a Sith Pureblood, at least two meters tall. His heavily muscled arms are like steel beams, and the red flesh of his exposed face is cris-crossed by a multitude of scars. He sports a vivid red and black armor with long, pointy shoulderpads, engraved with ancient runes, as well as a black cape with a single, golden rune. He seems to radiate with power and pure instincts of violence.
He nods at me, without a word, as I approach the table. The Inquisitor dwarfs everyone in the tent. Then, he speaks with a deep, resounding voice:
"We have met before, Darth Eress. Let us skip the pleasantries, and focus on the matter at hand."
Eress nods, conceding the point.
"As you wish." he points at the maps. I can see red lines and circles that mark our positions. They're a handful, spread out around the Valley of the Dark Lords, defending key points of our last stronghold. Then, I see the black circles and lines that represent the Zakuul forces. The red markings are completely surrounded by a sea of black. "The enemy has managed to create artillery emplacements to the east of the Lower Wilds, here and here. We lack aircraft to launch bombing runs, so our only option would be either to retreat inside the Academy or seek refuge inside the tombs. In a tight space, their numbers will be less effective, and there is no way of getting armor inside the tunnels or the Academy itself."
"You intend to run away, like a coward?" Zel-maras asks, incredulously.
"We need a better position, that's all." Eress replies. "The Inquisition's forces are stationed near the Tomb of Tulak Hord, correct?"
"Yes, indeed." the Inquisitor answers.
"Then send word to Grand Inquisitor Ulkaen to retreat inside the tomb itself. We will follow, covering your retreat." Darth Eress says.
"What about Darth Atroxa?" I intervene. Eress looks at me, and shrugs.
"She already made her choice. She's determined to die out here before letting the enemy set foot in the Academy. Brave, but foolish, in my opinion." he answers.
"Honor is the only thing left for idiots and fanatics" Zel-maras grumbles. "I will speak to the Grand Inquisitor. May the Force ever serve you, Darth Eress. Lord Vigil."
He nods at both of us, and leaves the tent, apparently not bothered by the violent storm roaring outside.
I shrug. Zel-maras has never been a cheerful man, and the circumstances don't help in the slightest. I open my mouth to say something, but then, the world explodes all around me, and everything becomes black, with the sound of thunder.
Experts have speculated about the reason why the Eternal Empire paused it's continuous attack against the Imperial Forces on Korriban, even when the exhausted defenders were about to be overrun. There are unconfirmed rumours that the ceasefire was ordered by Prince Thexan when his twin, Prince Arcann, was terribly wounded by Imperial artillery. Other rumours spread the belief that the Zakuul forces were unable to maneuver for an attack in the middle of the terrible sandstorm that swept over the Valley of the Dark Lords during the night of Taungsday, on the 13th of the Tenth Month of the year 3635 BBY. Only the Zakuul generals know the truth.
What is known, however, is that the final and most savage Zakuul attack commenced on the morning of the following Zhellday, while the storm still raged upon the final battlefield of the desperate Sith and Imperial defenders.
The attack was preceded by a brutal artillery bombardment, followed by thousands of shuttles and bombers that dropped around 80 tonnes of explosives on the Imperial positions around the Tomb of Tulak Hord, the main trenchline to the north of the Tomb of Ajunta Pall and Darth Atroxa's positions at the Sith Academy.
Between 13 and 18 minutes from the start of the bombardment, an estimated number of 41,000 Sky Troopers, assisted by eight hundred Zakuul Knights, assaulted the Imperial defensive positions. The warriors from different Sith Orders and the remnants of the 76th and 101st Legions held their position, stubbornly resisting the unstoppable assault. Heroic deeds, like Lord Infernus's defence of Outpost 89 and Grand Inquisitor Ulkaen's counterattack at the gates of the Tomb of Tulak Hord would inspire the 800 defenders to resist fiercely for more than four hours, before the Eternal Empire's troops reached the Sith Academy. However, despite the bravery displayed by the gallant defenders of the Valley of the Dark Lords, even their efforts would pale in comparison with the epic last stand of Darth Atroxa and the 129 survivors of the 1st Korriban Regiment.
It is reported that more than three thousand Zakuulan bodies were found amongst the dead, when Korriban was secured by the Eternal Empire. None of Darth Atroxa's men survived the slaughter.
On another note, there are also rumours of a small group of soldiers and Sith that managed to entrench themselves inside the Tomb of Tulak Hord, though it's considered unlikely they managed to make much of a difference to the outcome of the battle...
Extract from "The Rise of the Eternal Empire" (edited after the Battle of Yavin), by Imperial Historian Ivus Killin, 12 BBY.