The fighting around the Academy was fierce, but it seemed that the forces of the Iron throne had begun to get their footing on this situation. Cethgus had been given instructions to help them on this front with most of the Brotherhood backing, this was in order to try and take the Academy from the enemy and secure it for the sake of the Brotherhood. The sand swept across the battle lines of the Iron Throne, as the troops continued to work on reinforcing their position, it seemed that the Jedi Hunter in charge knew what he was doing and if this was correct then he would be left to continue doing his work.

“Cethgus, your small task force is ready to go. I left you a small force of troops to take under your command just head out when you are ready and good luck,” the voice of the Human crept threw his helmet as he spoke to the Quaestor.

“Understood and thank you for your cooperation lieutenant” the Iridonian allowed his eyes to follow the man as he walked away before turning his gaze back to those that had been given to him to command. It was only a small lot but still, this group would be better than nothing in the end and that was the key. This mission was one that most of them would not return from it was still something they had to take seriously as this was the fate that would fall everyone if their mission failed.

Cethgus allowed himself to spin onto his heels as the group packed up their gear and headed out to see what this mission would have in store for them, though it was safe to say that it would be challenging at the least. As the Primarch began the journey they soon found themselves entering one of the small entrances of the Academy that had been secured, it was here that the sound of movement and infighting had began. It was clear that this team was not alone any more, as their weapons raised up the Iridonian brought his saber hilts to hand as he advanced through the corridors of this one magnificent building, his eyes glancing and scanning the terrain around him.

“Move quick, move silent and kill anything that stands in our way clear?” The order allowed the troops little time to nod before they found themselves once more on the move, weapons sunk into their shoulders ready to squeeze the trigger at the slightest sign of hostile movement.

The attack inside of the Academy was a well organised attack from the Iron Throne, each team breached the building with ease clearing the insides with devastating efficiency, it was clear that this fight was one that held no quarter, brother on brother, force users at their prime it was something that saw the Iridonian challenged by his opponents. It was an honourable and worthy cause to fight for the Iron Throne and the Equite wasn’t about to miss his turn on some action.

As the group encountered their first opponents, a small squad that patrolled the section of the Academy, setting up for the high ground and the element of surprise the Iridonian readied his team with ease. It was brief but the eruption of blaster fire, and shouting and screams as the patrol hit the floor was as satisfying as ever to the Iridonian who knew he had just come out of this better than he had gone into it. Something with ease was hardly worth the groups time, but as they pushed on the fighting became what could be considered a stalemate, neither side budging but each one desperate for control of the Academy.

“Sir, we have them on the back foot, forces are making a final push around the Academy to force them out of the area, at least we can hold the Academy” the communications officers voice echoed throughout the corridors as blaster bolts shattered into the walls.

“Understood, move quickly I will take lead” with that the Iridionian allowed his blades to hiss into life as he darted from cover heading the charge directly at his opponents. His blades were swift as they slammed into their mark, catching the other squad moving with haste from the corner of his eye he watched as they raised their weapons letting the bolts slam into the retreating rebels and what seemed like an entire army ran threw the Academy, hunting down everything that stood in its way, catching and killing the rebels and one sith with ease as they forced them from the ruined and ran down temple towards its outskirts.

“They are retreating sir, reports are that the Brotherhood forces have seized control of the Academy, we are setting up outposts around the Academy to hold this position. Our Forces completed their mission,” the comms officer delivered the news that the Iridonian wanted to hear, it seemed that for what resistance they expected sheer number of force had driven them from the Academy.

Tonight, at least, the Academy belonged to the Brotherhood.

By: Cethgus Tiberius Entar Arconae (6705)

The harsh and scorching winds bolstered against the Zelosian’s back as he raced towards the Valley from his shuttle. He preciously covered his eyes from the glaring sun and the beating down sandstorm he was in. His heavy and plated boots scrapped and dragged across the sandy floors, his robes were shredded and whipped by the sands, and his dignity was slowly dissipating. Sjl peered above a treasured piece of cloth that he held near his face, to notice the spire of the academy close to him. He must press on, to make it to the academy is an imperative for the Krath. The vast collection of mysterious, darkened and forbidden knowledge that lay between the walls was like a drug for the Krath Priest. His body was met by the soft whipping inside of an alcove he accidentally walked into, it was dimmer on his eyes, and the warm breeze welcomed by his skin. However, as the Zelosian pressed further onwards, his boots crunched at the sound of numerous inaccessible Sith Scrolls under the sand. Looking further ahead, Sjl could noticed piles of datapads, holocrons and even a random Lavonrak.

Curiously, Sjl delved deeper into the alcove as it turned into a tunnel with torches and floodlights propped across the edges for guidance.His mind wandered to questionings about the occupant of the treasure cove that he just entered. The logic behind entering this place was farfetched, yet Sjl did not agree with the idea of stepping back outside to die in the hands of the weather. Sjl grew more intrigued about the of all the lost secrets inside this cave, he rushed into action and jogged deeper into the cave.

His eyes were blinded by the sun’s glare from the pillar of the vast room that Sjl entered, and as he turned his eyes towards the lower levels he saw a settlement pitched into the ground. New boots sat outside the entrance and a backpack was left beside the crackling fire and sandstone used for a stool. East of the settlement, he could see an old and rusted cruiser, it’s appearance was lost to time however Sjl could sense it meant more than looks for the owner. Sjl dared himself to enter and decided to follow a ramp that was attached to the south-western wall, slowly walking down with his hand near his lightsaber. It wasn’t the preferred weapon of choice for the Zelosian right now, but the prospect of finding a man-eating beast out here were slim. Then Sjl froze, his head remained still as the cold metal of something circular was softly placed onto the temple of his head, a hand slowly crept across his shoulder and neck to secure him in place, and the heavy breathing of a man slithered against his ear.

“Move and you die, stranger.”

Nervous and panting slightly, Sjl slowly removed his hands from his sides and raised them into clear view for the unknown to see. They were then quickly taken behind Sjl’s back and linked together by restrainers. Sjl wanted to reassure the man he was not here to steal, however a doubt in the back of his mind warned him that this might be a Taldryan, Odanite or a Plagueis member.

“I take nothing but answers; I leave nothing but questions.” Sjl whispered, keeping his head forward in fear of losing it.

The unknown man slowly pushed Sjl to edge him forward and forced him to move down the ramp. His boots felt heavier by the second as he was led towards the campfire, still crackling and burning. With a heavy hand, the Zelosian was pushed onto his rear and onto the ground infront of his captor. The Priest now began to recognise the person from his Quaestor’s report; bleach blonde hair, dark brown and droopy eyes, and the signature cigarette from his weathered lips. The smoke of such device flooded the chambers and forced Sjl to gain a chesty cough.

“Connor Grey?” Sjl questioned the Sith.

“How do you know me, wimp?” He furiously stood and stormed towards the Krath, grabbing his neck and yanking him onto his feet.

“We--we were looking for you. My superiors spoke of you highly--said that you knew this place better than the dead Sith Lords. You have a treasure worth buying too.”

“Did he now?” The Sith gritted his cigarette and his teeth, thinking of ideas as the precipice of darkness crept over the Kuati’s face. He patted Sjl’s pants down and prodded around, then yanked the Priest’s lightsaber away and smirked at the design.

“Ah, a brotherhood weapon. This will go nicely in my collection, I’m sorry bud. The war isn’t for you.”

Sjl’s expression fell pale, he tried to wriggle from the restrainers as Grey reached for his pistol once more. His firm grip on the Krath’s neck slipped, causing the Zelosian to slam onto his back and whack his head against a sharp rock. His blurred vision struggled to focus as Grey aimed his pistol at the Zelosian’s face, then fired twice. The cold blackness greeted Sjl for the last time.

Nath Voth
13425

Korriban did not change much in Nath’s opinion, this had been the second time she had the pleasure of visiting the desolate planet. This time she had to confess was far more enjoyable than the first, this time she could travel where she wished, she could explore and vanish into tombs for weeks at a time and nothing bad would come of it. The last time had not been so enjoyable or free with her whims.

She recalled the war.

The Iridonian would never say that she was pivotal within it, or contributed greatly to it’s success, her ego was far too small for such boasts. If she had to say anything she would describe herself as a force of chaos within a ball of organised chaos.

Slowly she walked her way through the sands, pulling up the balaklava higher, she could feel a storm brewing as the winds picked up on the normally mild desert planet. The last time she had been here she recalled the sands had been turned crimson with the fighting, now not even a body remained. Everything had been swept away, no doubt the bodies had made excellent snacks for the flora and fauna all of which had evolved a ruthless attitude to prey.

As quickly as she could manage she caught up with her counterpart for this little excursion. He stood several inches taller than her and in muscle mass was probably the equivalent of three of her under nourished selves.

“Storm’s coming in.” He turned and glanced skywards a small frown gracing his expression.

“How can you tell?” The sky still seemed calm enough to him, there was nothing unusual or even remotely hinting to stormy weather. Nath knew better, knew what would come and the results of not finding sufficient shelter.

“I lived on Iridonia, the environment was similar.” It was the only expatiation she could think to give the Mandalorian. He thought about it for a long while as they walked down towards the heart of the Valley of Kings.

“We could use that tomb we met in last time.” Nath gave a nod, knowing they had plenty of time to reach it and it would not be caved in like many of the tombs they would pass along the way.

She kept pace with Kalon without difficulty, she could have walked faster but there was no rush, no target to kill or artefact to capture now. No, that had all happened a few months prior and she had seen how it had effected them. How it had changed people to become monstrous creatures that easily turned on friend as quickly as foe.

Nath wondered if Muz was happy now he had the answer to his question, she hadn’t been there when he had breached the hidden tomb but she wasn’t heard pressed to imagine his expression as the large stone blocks turned to rubble. Or how his fingers grasped at the holocron as though it was as fragile as glass.

The pair walked in silence, no doubt Kalon was reliving memories of his own, she did not wish to pry, some things where better left in the memory. For herself she recalled bodies being piled along the narrow path between the rows of tombs, having to climb over fallen Sith to reach her next opponent uncaring if they were friend (not that Nath had many of them) or enemy.

As they continued she fell deeper into her musings, she could smell the metallic tang of the crimson viscous bodily fluids that had soaked so deeply into the sands that it had almost made a paste with the repeated churning of boots that had worked it’s way through it. She felt the itch of dead eyes glaring up at her silently asking her why she had not bothered to save them.

Nath was forced to clench her fists and was thankful her kind did not perspire as much as a Human. It was far more difficult to read that she was in truth recalling these memories far more vividly than the previous battles she had participated in. Slowly her hands came to rest upon the the hilts of her Durasteel daggers, The motion was one of comfort, knowing they were there was reassuring in a more primitive part of her mind.

Nausea bubbled in the pit of her stomach, she took a quiet deep breath to try and repress the acidic contents of her stomach. She wished to go home, wished she could forget it all and pretend this damned war had never happened.

Her hands trembled now too...