Star Wars: The Old Republic: Revan (32 page)

Having T3 running long, nervous circles around her certainly didn’t help, but she was afraid if she told him to stay still he might have a meltdown. And she understood the droid’s anxiety.

She still wasn’t sure what to make of Lord Scourge. She had sensed that his offer to work together was sincere, though she wondered how much of that was Revan’s doing. It was easy to understand how Scourge could be drawn to him; Revan’s command of the Force was greater than that of anyone else she had ever met. And she knew how charismatic he could be. Even though he was a prisoner it wasn’t hard to imagine him being in total control of the situation.

But if he had recruited Scourge as an ally, it had been out of necessity rather than choice. The Sith was wholly consumed by the dark side. He had no respect for life, no desire to serve any needs but his own. Even if what he said about wanting to stop the Emperor was true, his motivations were survival and self-preservation.

She didn’t trust him, but if he could prove that he and Revan were
on the same side she would work with him. The risk of betrayal was one she was willing to take if it gave her a chance to rescue her friend.

The little droid was passing by her on one of his many, many laps when she heard the sound of a speeder approaching. T3 stopped and dimmed his light, casting the cave in shadow once more.

“I told you he’d come back,” Meetra said. “He’s alone,” she added before T3 could ask the obvious question.

She scrambled to her feet as Lord Scourge marched confidently into the cave, ready to respond at the first hint of aggression.

“I have what you need,” he said, holding up several data disks. “This will prove what I said about trying to stop the Emperor. You will see that we are on the same side.”

Scourge stepped forward and extended his hand, offering her the disks. She hesitated for only a moment before coming close enough to take them from his grasp. She returned to T3, carefully retracing her steps so as not to turn her back on the red-skinned Sith.

“We’ll need time to look these over,” she said.

“They might be encrypted,” Scourge told her.

“I’ve never come across a code my friend here couldn’t crack,” she said, and T3 beeped his agreement.

“I suspected as much. How long do you think it will take?”

“Why? Are you in a rush?”

“Events have been set in motion,” he explained. “We have two, maybe three days before the window of opportunity closes.”

“Work fast, T3,” she said. She looked up at Scourge. “We’d be more comfortable if you weren’t hovering over us.

“I will return in three hours,” he said. “Alone, of course.”

It only took half that time for T3 to decrypt and verify the authenticity of the data. As promised, it confirmed what the Sith had said—he really was plotting to overthrow the Emperor. However, it wasn’t just Scourge. Several members of the Dark Council, the Emperor’s circle of handpicked advisers, had joined together in a conspiracy to remove him from the throne.

Yet after more than a decade, they had made no real progress. Instead, the disks cataloged a litany of power plays and double crosses among the various leaders of the conspiracy. They spent so much time
plotting against one another that the idea of them actually working together to defeat the Emperor seemed ludicrous.

“No wonder he’s willing to work with Revan,” Meetra muttered. “He’s just sick of waiting.”

By the time Scourge returned, she had made her decision.

“I believe you,” she said. “I’m ready to work together.”

“Does this mean you’ll tell me your name?” the Sith asked.

“I’m Meetra. And this is Tee-Three-Em-Four.”

The droid let out a shrill chirp.

“What’s he saying?” Scourge asked.

“He says it’s time for you to take us to see Revan.”

“The situation has changed. That isn’t an option any longer.”

“Why not?”

“He is being held by a Sith Lord called Nyriss.”

“She’s on the Dark Council,” Meetra said, recalling the name from the data disks. “She’s the one who brought you into the conspiracy.”

Scourge nodded.

“If she’s holding Revan, why can’t you take us to him?”

“When I first made the offer, I was hoping Revan could convince you that we should work together,” Scourge explained. “Going to see him now would only be an unnecessary risk.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I could probably get you in to see him, but that won’t help get him out of his cell. And it might raise suspicion.”

“Just take me to him,” Meetra insisted. “Leave the escape to me.”

“You can’t fight your way through Nyriss’s entire army of followers,” Scourge said. “Even with my help. She has hundreds of guards and dozens of acolytes trained in the dark side. If we’re going to break Revan out, we need a distraction. Something to draw the attention of the guards away while we sneak in.”

“I assume you have a plan?”

“I do,” Scourge said, smiling. “I’m going to get the Emperor to help us.”

THOUGH HE APPEARED CALM
on the outside, Scourge’s heart was pounding as he mounted the steps to the Emperor’s citadel. He was playing a dangerous game, but there were no other options. Time was the enemy; if they had any hope of getting Revan out of her dungeon alive, they had to act before Nyriss realized Scourge had betrayed her.

Soon—maybe tomorrow, maybe even today—Nyriss would begin to wonder about Sechel and Murtog’s absence. It wouldn’t take her long to learn that they had been working with Scourge, and from there she would easily fill in the blanks.

He’d briefly considered approaching one of the other members of the Dark Council, hoping to convince him or her to help him get rid of Nyriss the same way she had used him to eliminate Darth Xedrix. But even if they agreed to help him, it would be weeks before they put a plan into place. Like Nyriss, they were too cautious—too afraid—to take any action that might put them at risk.

The Emperor was the only Sith on all of Dromund Kaas with the will to take the kind of quick and decisive action required. Convincing him that Nyriss was a traitor would be simple enough with the files he’d acquired from Sechel. The trick was making the Emperor believe Scourge had been an unknowing pawn in her plans.

T3 had doctored the data disks, removing all evidence of Scourge’s part in the conspiracy. Scourge would claim that he came forward as soon as he learned of the plot … but there was no guarantee the Emperor would believe him.

Scourge was going to present the evidence in person. If the Emperor suspected he was lying—or if he was simply powerful enough to see the truth—escape would be impossible. He was putting himself at great risk for the sake of the cause—something he never would have considered before he met Revan.

At the top of the stairs he was stopped by a pair of Sith soldiers clad in red armor—two of the famed Imperial Guard. An army of elite warriors, the Imperial Guard underwent months of brutal training to transform them into the most disciplined and deadly troops in the Empire. Many didn’t survive, but those who did emerged as fanatically loyal zealots willing to sacrifice their lives to defend the Emperor.

“State your business,” one of the guards said, barring his way with a heavy electrostaff.

“I must see the Emperor immediately.”

He hadn’t known what kind of reaction his bold statement would produce—mocking laughter or flat refusal were the most likely options.

“Only those on the Dark Council can speak with the Emperor,” the second soldier told him, her tone curt and official.

“My name is Lord Scourge; I serve Darth Nyriss. I am here on her behalf.”

The soldiers looked at each other, and he sensed their uncertainty.

“The Emperor is in danger,” Scourge insisted. “I must speak with him.”

“Wait here,” the male guard told him.

He disappeared inside the Citadel and didn’t return for several minutes. The entire time passed in silence; the remaining guard saw no reason to speak to Scourge, and he knew better than to say anything more to her. Simple lies were the most effective, and Scourge had no intention of saying anything more than was absolutely necessary.

When the first soldier emerged, he was accompanied by four more of his comrades. All were Sith, and three wore uniforms identical to
those of the guards stationed at the door. The fourth was also clad in red armor, but her outfit was more elaborate.

“I am Captain Yarri,” she told him. “Come with me.”

They left the original two guards behind as she led him into the citadel. She walked in front of him, while two of the newcomers flanked him. The fourth fell into line directly behind him so that he was completely surrounded.

The design of the citadel reminded Scourge of Nyriss’s stronghold; not surprising, given that she had built her edifice in the same style to honor the Emperor. The interior was a virtual maze of corridors with gray and forbidding stone walls, punctuated by heavy wooden doors leading off to antechambers and side rooms.

However, where Nyriss lined the halls with statues, busts, and wall hangings glorifying her reputation and achievements, the decor of the citadel was far more utilitarian. Statues were few and far between, and the few splashes of color in the scattered wall hangings were muted by the dim lighting that cast everything in shadow.

“You are taking me to the Emperor?” Scourge asked.

“You may speak with one of the Emperor’s advisers.”

“Unacceptable. I did not come to meet with a servant.”

“The choice is not yours to make,” Captain Yarri replied brusquely.

Scourge stopped in his tracks, causing the soldier walking behind to stumble into him. The Sith Lord angrily shoved him back. In response, the two guards who had been at his side whipped out their electrostaffs.

“Stop!” Captain Yarri shouted, and they froze in their tracks.

“I am a Lord of the Sith,” Scourge reminded him. “And an agent of Darth Nyriss. I order you to take me to the Emperor.”

“That is not permitted.”

“These are exceptional circumstances.”

“How so?”

“That is for the Emperor’s ears alone. I must speak to him in person.”

“The Emperor does not like to be disturbed.”

“He will want to hear what I have to say.”

“If he feels you’ve wasted his time, you will be punished,” the captain warned.

The calm, almost casual way she spoke the simple threat was far more effective than providing gruesome details. But Scourge wasn’t about to back down now.

“It will not be a waste of his time.”

The captain considered the request, then nodded. “As you wish.”

As she led him down the twisting corridors of the citadel, Scourge made a mental note of their path. When he and Revan finally struck at the Emperor, they would need to know as much of the layout of the citadel as possible.

Eventually they turned down a hall that terminated at a pair of large durasteel doors.

“The throne room lies beyond,” Captain Yarri told him. “There you will find the Emperor.” She turned to face him. “I will give you one last chance to reconsider.”

“I’ve made my decision.”

“Then you must proceed alone. I will not violate the sanctity of the throne room.”

She motioned with her hand, and two of the soldiers stepped forward, one by each of the massive doors. Grunting with exertion, they pushed the doors inward; then they stepped to the side, standing at attention with their backs against the wall just outside the throne room’s now-open entrance.

Scourge expected them to search him, or at least instruct him to turn over his weapons. But Yarri and the others simply stood at attention, waiting for him to enter. The fact that they showed no concern over letting an armed Sith Lord speak to the Emperor face-to-face without any kind of preparation was a testament to the Emperor’s unfathomable power.

Thinking about that power gave Scourge pause. Like Revan, the Emperor understood the Force in ways Scourge never would. It was possible he experienced the same kinds of visions as the Jedi; it was also possible he could peer into Scourge’s mind and instantly know the truth of everything he was saying. Meeting him face-to-face could be tantamount to suicide.

No
, Scourge thought.
If that were the case, he would have sensed Nyriss’s betrayal long ago
.

As powerful as the Emperor might be, he was not omniscient. He
was, however, intelligent and cunning enough to have held on to his throne for over a thousand years—an unprecedented reign among the conniving and cutthroat politics of the Sith. Which meant Scourge would have to be very careful not to say anything that might give him away.

Captain Yarri and the other guards were still patiently waiting. No doubt they were used to seeing this kind of hesitation in those who were about to meet with the Emperor.

Steeling himself, Scourge stepped inside.

The throne room was enormous: twenty meters wide and at least forty meters long, with an arched ceiling that rose fifteen meters above. Apart from the throne at the far end, it was virtually empty.

The throne sat on an elevated circular pedestal, several meters in diameter. As Scourge walked forward, he noticed that the throne was facing away from him, its high back effectively blocking any view of its occupant.

After a few more steps, the pedestal swiveled around, turning the throne so that it faced him. And for the first time in his life, Scourge set eyes upon the Emperor.

The figure before him appeared unremarkable. The Emperor was clad in unadorned black robes, the raised hood effectively hiding his face. Yet Scourge could feel the power of the dark side emanating from him with such intensity that it caused a faint rippling of the air.

The Emperor rose to his feet, and the durasteel doors swung shut behind Scourge with a booming crash. Scourge’s step faltered briefly at the sound, but he continued forward.

As he reached the foot of the pedestal he dropped to one knee, bowing low, his eyes focused on a spot on the ground in front of him.