Into the Void: Star Wars (Dawn of the Jedi) (47 page)

The other statues were abstract pieces, though each incorporated Nyriss’s household
emblem—a four-pointed star inside a wide circle. The ground was covered with fine
white pebbles. A rare type of lichen that thrived in the gloom of Dromund Kaas had
been planted in decorative patterns throughout the stone, the faint purple glow providing
a ghostly illumination. A smooth path of finished stone led from the massive double
doors that marked the entrance to the stronghold, through the center of the courtyard,
and out to the small landing pad where their speeder had touched down.

Sechel scrambled out of the vehicle and raced around to open the exit hatch on the
other side for his passenger. Scourge stepped out of the speeder and into the rain,
which had lessened only slightly during their journey.

“This way, my lord,” Sechel said, heading down the path.

Scourge followed him, fully expecting the doors to swing wide at their approach. To
his surprise, the entrance remained sealed. Sechel didn’t seem taken aback, however.
Instead, he turned to the small holoscreen on the side and pressed the call button.

A flickering image materialized on the holoscreen—a human male of about forty. He
appeared to be wearing the standard uniform of an Imperial security officer, and Scourge
surmised he was the head of Nyriss’s personal guard.

“Our guest has arrived, Murtog,” Sechel explained, nodding in Scourge’s direction.

“Did you verify his identity?” Murtog asked.

“W-what are you talking about?” Sechel stammered.

“How do we know this is the real Lord Scourge? How do we know this isn’t another assassin?”

The questions seemed to catch Sechel completely off guard.

“I don’t … I mean, he seems to be … uh, that is …”

“I’m not letting him in until I have proof,” Murtog declared.

Sechel glanced back over his shoulder at Lord Scourge, his expression a mix of humiliation
and fear. Then he leaned in close to the holocomm and, in a low voice, said, “This
is completely inappropriate. You’ve overstepped your authority!”

“I’m the security chief,” Murtog reminded him. “This is completely within my authority.
Just give me five minutes to confirm everything’s on the up-and-up.”

Scourge stepped forward, grabbing Sechel by the shoulder and yanking him aside.

“You dare insult me by making me wait out in the rain like some beggar?” he spat at
the screen. “I am a guest! Darth Nyriss herself invited me!”

Murtog barked out a sharp laugh. “You might want to check your facts on that.”

The holoscreen clicked off abruptly. Scourge turned around to find Sechel cowering
against the wall.

“I’m sorry, my lord,” he said. “Murtog has become somewhat paranoid since—”

Scourge cut him off. “What did he mean when he told me to check my facts? Was I invited
by Darth Nyriss, or not?”

“You were. Of course you were. Sort of.”

Scourge raised his hand toward Sechel and reached out to the Force. The servant began
to gasp and clutch at his throat as his body was lifted slowly up into the air by
an invisible hand.

“You will tell me what is going on,” Scourge said, his voice devoid of all emotion.
“You will tell me everything, or you will die. Do you understand?”

Sechel tried to speak but could only cough and sputter. Instead he nodded frantically.
Satisfied, Scourge released his hold. Abruptly Sechel dropped the full meter to the
ground, where he landed in a heap, grunting in pain before scrambling to his knees.

“It wasn’t Darth Nyriss’s idea to hire you,” he explained, his voice still raw and
rough from the choking. “After the second assassination attempt, the Emperor suggested
that her own people could be involved. He suggested she bring someone in from the
outside.”

Suddenly it all made sense. The Emperor’s will was absolute; a “suggestion” from him
was a de facto order. Darth Nyriss had invited him here because she’d had no choice.
Scourge had assumed he was an honored guest, but in actuality he was nothing but an
interloper. His presence was an insult to her loyal followers, and a reminder that
the Emperor doubted her ability to deal with the assassins herself. That was why he’d
received such a meager reception, and why Nyriss’s security chief had reacted to him
with such hostility.

Scourge realized he was in a precarious situation.
His efforts to investigate the assassinations would be met with resistance and suspicion.
Any mistakes—even those that were not his fault—would be blamed on him. A single misstep
could spell the end of his career, or even his life.

He was still pondering this new information when he heard a speeder approaching through
the storm. The sound was innocuous, but it instantly put his senses on high alert.
His heart began beating rapidly and his breathing quickened. A rush of adrenaline
caused his cheek tendrils to twitch and his muscles to tense.

He drew his lightsaber and glanced up at the sky. At his feet, Sechel cried out and
covered his face, assuming the lightsaber was meant for him. Scourge ignored him.

In the darkness of the storm, he could just make out the speeder’s silhouette heading
straight for them. He reached out with the Force, probing the vehicle and its passengers.
He felt a bolt of anger rip through him as his suspicions were confirmed: Whoever
was in the speeder was coming to kill him.

All of this, from Scourge’s first awareness of the speeder to confirmation of its
hostile intent, took less than two seconds. Time enough for the speeder to close the
distance and come bearing down on him.

Scourge leapt to the side as a barrage of blasterfire was unleashed from the vehicle.
He hit the ground in a roll that brought him to his feet just in time to spring clear
of a second series of bolts. Moving with the blinding speed of the Force, he raced
across the courtyard, bolts ricocheting off the ground just behind him every step
of the way. He dived behind the cover of the Emperor’s statue, his mind assessing
the situation.

The speeder had to be equipped with an autotargeting blaster cannon; there was no
other way the shots could have tracked him so closely on his desperate run for
cover. Even a Sith Lord couldn’t evade that kind of firepower forever. He had to disable
the vehicle.

The speeder was heading away from him, circling around for another strafing run. Before
it could complete its turn, Scourge stepped out from behind the statue and launched
his lightsaber across the courtyard. The crimson blade went spiraling through the
night, tracing a wide, looping arc. It clipped the back end of the speeder, sending
up a shower of spark and flame, and continued on its trajectory to return to Scourge’s
outstretched hand.

The hum of the speeder’s engine pitched into a screaming whine as it completed its
turn. Black smoke, barely visible against the dark clouds, billowed out from the rear
engine. The vehicle began to lurch and wobble, losing altitude rapidly even as it
opened fire yet again.

Scourge ducked back behind the Emperor’s statue, pressing his back firmly against
it as a shower of bolts rained down on him. A second later the speeder flew overhead,
its angle of attack dropping so steeply it actually decapitated the statue he was
hiding behind.

The heavy stone head toppled down toward him, forcing Scourge to break cover to avoid
being crushed. At the same time, he saw the speeder slam into the ground. Emergency
repulsor fields absorbed the impact, saving the vehicle from being smashed to bits,
but it still hit hard enough to send a piece of the damaged engine flying.

Holding his lightsaber high above his head with both hands, Scourge charged the downed
speeder. Two passengers scrambled from the wreckage, shaken but unharmed. Scourge
was only mildly surprised to recognize the two red-clothed mercenaries he’d encountered
on the speeder pad back near the spaceport.

The male was on the far side of the speeder, struggling to get his blaster rifle out
of the wreckage. The female
was on the near side, her blaster pistols already drawn. Scourge was less than five
meters away when she opened fire.

He didn’t bother trying to block the bolts. Instead, he launched himself upward, his
forward momentum carrying him in a high, somersaulting leap that arced over both the
woman and the damaged speeder. The sudden move caught her off guard, and though she
fired several hurried shots, none hit him.

Twisting 180 degrees as he flew through the air, he landed on the other side of the
speeder, right beside the male mercenary just as the man was bringing his own weapon
to bear. Before he could fire, Scourge slashed his lightsaber diagonally across his
enemy’s torso.

As the man’s corpse toppled to the ground, Scourge turned his attention back to the
first mercenary. By this time she had spun to face him, and as her partner went down
she unloaded another series of shots, forcing Scourge to duck behind the speeder for
cover.

This time several of her blasts found their mark. Scourge’s armor absorbed the worst
of the attack, but he felt a searing pain in his shoulder as a small amount of the
particle beam energy found its way through a joint in his armor to scorch his flesh.

He focused on the pain, transforming it into anger to fuel the Force for a savage
counterattack. At the same time, instinctively, he drew upon his opponent’s fear,
adding it to his own passion and further amplifying the power he was gathering.

Channeling his rage, he unleashed a concentrated wave of energy that struck the woman
square in the chest. The impact lifted her off her feet and sent her flying backward
through the air. Her journey was cut short when she slammed against the base of one
of the abstract statues. The sudden stop jarred the pistols from her hands, leaving
her momentarily defenseless.

Scourge placed one hand on the hood of the speeder and vaulted over it, rushing to
close in on his prone foe before she could regain her footing. But the mercenary was
quick: She scrambled to her feet and pulled out a short electrorod, its tip crackling
with a charge potent enough to knock an opponent unconscious with even a grazing blow.

Scourge pulled up short. The mercenary dropped into a fighting crouch, and the two
combatants circled each other warily.

Had he wanted to, Scourge could have ended the encounter right then and there. Without
her pistols, electrorod or not, the mercenary had no chance against a Sith Lord with
a lightsaber. But killing her wouldn’t get him what he really wanted.

“Tell me who hired you and I’ll let you live,” he said.

“Do I look that stupid?” she countered, feinting and making a quick lunge that Scourge
easily sidestepped.

“You’re obviously skilled,” he told her. “I can use someone like you. Tell me who
hired you, and I’ll let you work for me. That, or throw your life away.”

She hesitated, and for an instant Scourge thought she might drop her weapon. And then
the night was shattered by the sound of multiple blaster carbines. The bolts hammered
the mercenary in the back, sending her stumbling toward Scourge. He saw a look of
total bewilderment on her face as she sank to her knees. Her mouth moved, but no words
came out. Then she fell facedown in the gravel, dead.

Turning, Scourge saw half a dozen guards standing in the courtyard near the door leading
into the stronghold. Among them was a human wearing a commander’s uniform. He was
short, broad-shouldered, and barrel-chested, with close-cropped blond hair and a neatly
trimmed blond beard that contrasted sharply with his
dark brown skin. Scourge recognized him from the holo: Murtog, Darth Nyriss’s head
of security.

Before Scourge could say anything, Sechel exclaimed, “About time you got here.”

He was still cowering against the wall, in nearly the exact same place Scourge had
left him after the brief interrogation that had preceded the ambush.

“Get up,” Murtog told him, and the Sith lackey did as ordered.

“Clean this mess up,” Murtog snapped at his guards, who scrambled to obey.

Satisfied, the security chief slung his weapon over his shoulder and nodded in Scourge’s
direction. “Darth Nyriss will see you now.”

This is the era of the
Star Wars
prequel films, in which Darth Sidious’s schemes lead to the devastating Clone Wars,
the betrayal and destruction of the Jedi Order, and the Republic’s transformation
into the Empire. It also begins the tragic story of Anakin Skywalker, the boy identified
by the Jedi as the Chosen One of ancient prophecy, the one destined to bring balance
to the Force. But, as seen in the movies, Anakin’s passions lead him to the dark side,
and he becomes the legendary masked and helmeted villain Darth Vader.

Before his fall, however, Anakin spends many years being trained as a Jedi by Obi-Wan
Kenobi. When the Clone Wars break out, pitting the Republic against the secessionist
Trade Federation, Anakin becomes a war hero and one of the galaxy’s greatest Jedi
Knights. But his love for the Naboo Queen and Senator Padmé Amidala, and his friendship
with Supreme Chancellor Palpatine—secretly known as the Sith Lord Darth Sidious—will
be his undoing …

If you’re a reader looking to jump into the Rise of the Empire era, here are five
great starting points: