Shreave Rhell surveyed the area, and then motioned off to the left.
A few moments later, the four Acolytes set off towards the massive crumbling stonework of the Tomb of Marka Ragnos.

While slogging through the barren red sands of Korriban, clambering over and around the ancient ruins and monuments to Lords long forgotten, Shreave wondered where these insane troops were supposed to be.

Spitting irritably, Eryon sneered at Alif, the younger acolyte falling behind.

"Too difficult, boy?" The Twi'lek snarled, tiring quickly himself.

Alif refused to answer, all attention on putting one foot in front of the other.

Eryon stepped forwards quickly, grabbing Alif's shoulder, and tossing the younger man aside.

"Answer me when I ask you a question!" he roared, but Shreave gripped his arm, and slammed the arrogant Assassin to the ground.

"Try me, Eryon. Come on, try something!" As Shreave snarled in Eryon's face, the Twi'lek felt a cold blade pressed to his chin.

Snarling savagely, Eryon nevertheless backed down, intelligence reminding him that he wouldn't be able to dodge this blade.

Stepping back, Shreave smiled grimly.

"One day, Shreave, one day, I will kill you!" Eryon snarled, and the cyborg Sith rolled his eye.

"You want to many holodramas, Eryon. No one talks like that in the real world." Shreave teased, then stepped back as the Twi'lek lashed out with a fist.

"Boys, enough!" Zalia snapped, glaring at both of them and looking frustrated, still looking worn out.

Shreave shrugged, and wandered over to help the younger Sith, who was scrambling to gather up all of his stuff that Eryon had knocked away.

"Don't worry about him. Eryon's just a little brat with temper tantrums. You ever been around babies?"

Alif smiled, and responded, "But is Eryon not more powerful?"

Shreave shrugged, and said, "Yeah, but I'm more powerful still. I'll give you some pointers, if you want."

Alif smiled slightly, and said, "I'd like that. Thank you."

Shreave smiled broadly, clapping the younger man on the shoulder.

"Anytime. Come on, don't want the brat to be too long without supervision."

The two quickly caught up with the two Inquisitors, who had stopped, staring at the low valley leading to the tomb.

Imperial troops were swarming the area, moving in tight formation, squads sweeping the area thoroughly.

"Think they're friendly?" He asked, looking curiously at the others, and Zalia said, "All Imperial troops here are supposed to be rouge, and completely insane. So you might get along with them, but no, they aren't friendly."

Shreave smiled, and began jogging down the side, weapon still sheathed, and the others followed, weapons ready.

"Greetings!" Called Shreave, and the soldiers spun.

There were no words, no motions, just perfectly synchronized bursts of fire, sending Shreave diving for cover.

Grimacing, he took a deep breath, before releasing a powerful roar at them, the sound waves crushing their armor in and sending them reeling.

Drawing his blade, he lunged in, followed by the others.

Eryon reached out, slapping the gun aside as he drove his blade straight through the unfortunate's throat as Alif slashed the legs out from another.

Zalia hung back, still feeling weak, but drew her blade and shot a few forks of lightning at any that escaped her allies.

The first group down, the Sith-in-training moved on, now using a bit more stealth.

Slipping past nearly a dozen groups, Shreave saw the towering monument that marked the Tomb of Marka Ragnos.

Off to the right was a crumbling area, from which issued various snarls and growls, evidently a Tuk'ata nest.

In front of them stood the main tomb, though a small bunching of tents blocking the road boded ill from them.

"Eryon, we'll defer to you this time, and let you lead us into the enemy camp." Shreave said, gesturing for the Twi'lek to take the lead.

"Screw you! How stupid do you think I am?" Eryon snarled, and Shreave laughed.

"Alright, Eryon refused to be the leader. Surely that won't affect future leadership decisions."

Eryon growled angrily, and Shreave said, "As leader, I have decided that Eryon will be the meatshield."

Eryon's blade swiped at his head, only for the Pureblood to duck under it, and casually punch Eryon in the stomach.

Gasping for air, Eryon was unprepared for Alif's kick, which sent him sprawling.

He snarled, but his revenge was halted in it's tracks by a call of "Drop your weapons, and prepare to serve the Lord."

Glancing at the others, Shreave saw his own bemusement reflected in the faces of the others.

A man in an Imperial General's uniform stepped out, vibroblade drawn, and his eyes glowing red with madness.

"Not sure I want to do that." Shreave said, taking a defensive position. "Which Lord did you say it was?"

"Marka Ragnos, Dark Lord of the Sith, and whom we all must serve!" The General crowed, and Shreave chuckled.

"Ragnos has been dead a few hundred years, buddy. You're camping in the ruins of his tomb, you know!"

For a second, his eyes dimmed, reality sinking in, only for Ragnos to come back in force, a shockwave expanding out from his position.

The four stumbled away, then lunged in, blades drawn, and calling on the force to power their attacks.

Deflecting blaster fire back into the crowd, slashing through the possessed soldiers, blood pooling on the sand, the Sith held their ground, even as they sustained injuries themselves.

"Well, this could have gone better." Shreave muttered, blood dripping from a half dozen deep gashes across his chest and legs.

"No, really? Maybe if you try to avoid riling up Eryon, then beating him down, we'd work together a little better!" Zalia snapped, gasping for breath, and barely able to do more than hold a lightning shield in place.

Suddenly, from the entrance of the tomb came a roar of fury, and a heavily armored Sith burst out, crimson saber raised high, and whirling through a dozen possessed in half as many seconds.

Shreave blinked a few times in surprise, then pushed towards her, followed by Zalia and Alif.

"Look out!" He called, and the Sith spun around barely in time to deflect one of the General's sniper shots.

Her hand went out, and the General dropped his weapon, clutching at his throat, which was rapidly compressing.

With a convulsive jerk, his head snapped almost 180, and he went limp.

Turning towards them, the Sith said, "There you are."

Alif gasped in pain as her outstretched hand gripped his throat in an uncompromising Force Choke.

"Let him go!" Shreave roared, flying at the Sith, who barely glanced at him before smashing a fist sized rock into the side of his head.

The world was spinning, but Shreave pushed himself up onto one knee, pulling in his strength, before letting it out in a convulsive scream that sent the Sith reeling.

The shock broke her grip on Alif, who collapsed gasping on the ground.

The Sith pushed herself up, the faceless helmet ripped from her head, revealing a mess of wires and mechanical parts almost holding her jaw together, and replacing an eye.

Shreave stepped between her and Alif, barely able to stand, and said, "Leave him alone."

Behind him, he felt Zalia using the minor healing knowledge she'd acquired to help Alif, though her own strength was far from optimal.

Eryon was nowhere to be felt, and Shreave felt a moment of fear.

The Psychotic Twi'lek was not someone he wanted to lose track of.

But his attention quickly focused on the known threat: The Sith who was trying to kill them.

As she reached her feet, he saw Zalia and Alif move to flank him, presenting a unified, if weak, front.

Smiling slightly, The Sith raised her lightsaber in a salute, and charged.