Shreave Rhell stormed away from Eryon, muttering curses against the self-centered Sith.

At least that Sith lady would be happy, he thought, remembering the vicious assault she'd made, focused entirely on Alif.

The only thing Shreave could figure was that she'd been sent by Essor Kayin's master, revenge for outing his apprentice.

However, once he'd pushed Alif behind him, the woman ceased her attack, claiming that his time had not yet come.

Glancing over, he saw Zalia knitting together the torn flesh of Eryon's leg with a look of intense concentration.

Her eyes closed, Zalia's hands were hovering over the injury, glowing softly purple.

"How is he?" Shreave asked, more for appearance sake than concern, but Zalia missed the faint sarcasm.

"He'll be fine. The bite is painful, and the surrounding area is rather shredded, but it will heal well enough."

The glow slowly lessening, Zalia removed her hands and examined her handiwork. "Try that. Can you stand?"

Eryon stumbled upright as Zalia pulled away, and tried an experimental step.

By the expression on his face, it wasn't comfortable, but the lack of a major response meant that Zalia's ministrations were successful.

Glancing once again at the massive crumpled form of the Tarentatek, Shreave wandered over, reaching out for it's out flung arm.

Ignoring the questioning looks from the others, Shreave drew a knife, and began rather carefully sawing around one of the beast's claws.

Freeing it from the end of the finger, Shreave placed the claw in the small pouch affixed to his belt, before straightening and brushing the blood off on the creature's thick hide.

"Alright! Time to move on!" He stated, heading for the stone staircase back towards the central chamber of the tomb.

"Shreave? What about Alif?" Zalia asked, sounding concerned.

Shreave sighed regretfully. "We've got our hands full as is, Zal. Eryon's injured, other unfriendly ex-acolytes are waiting, and carrying a dead body will only make us slower. We leave him here, to watch over our kill."

He took the stairs three at a time, allowing his anger and frustration at the situation to grasp the Force to augment his speed.

He heard the other two following, and as he approached an archway, he slowed to allow them to catch up.

"Here." He said, and Zalia halted, motioning Eryon to one side, where he drew his saber, as well as the force around him, cloaking his activities.

Shreave saw a young acolyte peer out, spotting him. As their eyes locked, the young man yelped, firing blindly as he ducked back around the corner.

Twisting away, Shreave felt the superheated air pulled in the wake of the shots blow past his face.

Turned around, he launched himself back into the doorway as another acolyte stepped forwards.

He crashed into the Zabrak, rolling together as their sabers bounced across the stone corridor.

The other acolytes's pistol discharged twice as they rolled, and Shreave howled in pain as the shot burned through his shoulder.

Stepping in for a better shot, the human acolyte opened himself up to Zalia.

A bolt of crackling purple lighting pierced through his chest, blowing out the center in a perfectly charred hole.

Shreave hurled his opponent away, snarling angrily and showing his sharp canines, mirroring the Zabrak's growl.

Before his saber could reach his hand, Shreave saw the other acolyte stiffen, then collapse as Eryon withdrew his blade from the Zabrak's chest.

"You're welcome" the Twi'lek spat, stalking down the corridor.

Glaring, Shreave raised a hand, intent on choking the arrogant former slave until he begged for mercy, but paused when a hand touched his arm.

"Shreave, it's not worth it. You are the only decent person I've met since the Sith first showed up. Don't throw that away."

Zalia's quietly reasonable voice cut through the pulsing hatred echoing through Shreave's entire being.

"Zal..."

"He's not to blame for Alif. Now, sit down. I need to fix this shoulder."

He allowed her to push him down, then sat as her hands began to glow against the blaster wound.

"I'm not a master at this Shreave, but I can dull the pain, and give you limited use out of the arm."

"Thanks Zal." He said, then, as she patted his shoulder, began following Eryon down the hall.

"Where's this ancient monument anyways? You never specified."

"Neither did Harkun. He wanted me to get lost and die, no doubt."

"Naturally. And with Eryon, it would almost be a guarantee! Where is the huttspawn anyways?"

"Shreave, do-"

"Over here!" A scathingly insulted voice called, and they saw Eryon standing in an adjoining corridor, pointing. "You wanted a ancient unopened monument, right?"

"Yes, Eryon, thanks. We'll be right over." Zalia sighed, and more quietly added "Shreave, please lay off Eryon. He's an ass, yes, but he's cooperating. The harder you ride him now, the more he'll retaliate. Either relax and coexist, or we'll find our own way out."

Shreave shrugged. "Sorry Zal, he just rubs me the wrong way. But I'll try to deal more quietly, if you want."

"That's all I can ask."

The two walked into the massive chamber, where Eryon was currently smacking the peak of the massive monolith with his saber, sparks flashing as his blade glanced off.

Carved stone, the monolith towered over then at around twenty feet, capped by a small pyramid.

This pyramid was glowing, nearly translucent with swirling metal designs throughout, with a smaller one contained inside, evidently the target.

Despite Eryon's efforts, the pyramid rejected his most vicious attacks, and from what Shreave could tell, there weren't even actual scratched in the finish.

"Let me have a crack at it." Zalia called up, and Eryon slid down, his metal arm scraping through the carvings decorating the sides.

"At least those weren't important." Shreave muttered, glancing apologetically at Zalia after.

The sorceress ran at the monolith, leaping with Force augmented speed and strength, bouncing between the steep slope of the monument itself and the nearby chamber wall.

Reaching the peak panting, Zalia clung there desperately, trying the regain the strength expended to get there.

Shreave stared up as she closed her eyes and started to meditate, still perched precariously in the gouges Eryon had dug into it.

The entire tomb rumbled, and Shreave spun in alarm as a small pack of Tuk'ata and Shyracks came charging into the room.

"Whatever you're doing, keep it up! The monolith's trying to protect itself!" Shreave called up, motioning sharply for Eryon to join his attack.

The assassin rolled violet eyes, but complied, twisting in a sudden low cut that slashed one of the leading Tuk'ata's legs off at the knee.

Leaping for the next one, Shreave was once again appalled at the Twi'lek's callousness.

The carnivorous scavenging Shyracks had settled in to feed on the dying Tuk'ata, and the assassin was slashing their wings off.

As the creatures flopped around crippled, Eryon delivered killing blows as short, chopping blows to their heads.

Meanwhile, Shreave cut through the Tuk'ata as a matter of course, stabbing into their brains or hearts as smoothly and quickly as possible.

A sudden purple glow caused him to spin as Zalia, patience evidently worn out, jumped backwards, blasting the pyramid with lightning.

Pinning herself to the wall with the push back of her power, Zalia illuminated the entire cavern in an eerie amethyst glow.

Releasing her hold on the power, Zalia slumped down, then fell gracefully off the wall.

Shreave charged forwards, launching off the monolith, and catching the sorceress in midair, folding her close to him.

Wrapping himself around her as securely as possible, he reached out, calling on the force to slow his descent.

Despite the noticeable slowing, when he hit the ground shoulders first, Shreave felt agony arcing through his left arm.

The injury had been reawakened, and with a vengeance.

Hissing in pain, Shreave rolled the unconscious Zalia against the wall, and forced himself upright, glancing suspiciously at Eryon.

The Assassin, however, was gone, and as Shreave looked up, he saw Eryon at the peak, gently picking up the inner pyramid, now clearly recognizable as a ancient holocron.

The Twi'lek slid down in the same manner as before, scoring another deep gouge.

Arriving at ground level, he raised the glowing object for inspection, his already red visage turned into a crimson horror as his lips parted in a malicious grin.

Shreave placed a cautionary hand on his saber, and reached out.

"Eryon, I think I'll carry that for her, alright?"

The Twi'lek Assassin glanced up, lip curled in a faint snarl. "No need to burden yourself more, Sith. You've still got to carry Zalia out."

Shreave smiled, his attempt at a disarming and relaxing grin stiff and unnatural.

"It's no problem, really. You're going to have to protect us, so I wouldn't want you to be weighted down."

The two stared at each other, until a rough voice cut through the tension.

"Why don't I carry it, and you two hit stuff with those shiny sticks you carry?"

Turning, the two Sith acolytes saw the Sith Lady from before, saber lit and eyeing them dangerously from her one good eye.

"No!" Shreave paused in shock, noting that, for once, he and Eryon were in agreement. If only you could see us now, Zal.

"Then the Twi'lek holds the holocron, Sithy gets the girl, and I'll hit things with my stick. Better?"

Studying her face, Shreave saw no real traces of deceit, though he knew that meant next to nothing when dealing with Sith.

"Why? Why the hell should we trust you? You nearly killed us out there!" Eryon spat, and she laughed, a grating mechanical echo.

"I was told to kill the runner. You did that for me, so I'll do something for you. And besides, it wasn't like I tried to kill you. You slunk off like a scared little Manka kitten."

Shreave chuckled, and said, "She's got you there, Erry. Alright, what's your name?"

"Kaesin. Apprentice to Darth Baras. And he wants a word with you."