Star Wars: The Old Republic: Revan

by Drew Karpyshyn

  Revan changed the subject. “You think they’ll try another attack?”

  “No,” Canderous said.

  “You sure? I get the feeling they don’t like us being in their territory.”

  “They fled the battle.” Canderous grinned. “It’s our territory now.” His grin grew wider. “Felt good to fly into battle again.”

  “Where’d you get the mount?” Revan asked.

  “Belongs to a young man named Grizzer. He still hasn’t been tested in battle, so Veela told me I could use it if we ran into any trouble.”

  “When’d she tell you that?”

  “The other night.”

  “You mean when you were sharing her tent?”

  Canderous shrugged.

  “What does Grizzer think about that?”

  “Veela’s the clan leader. He’ll do what she says.”

  “And what’s she going to say now that she knows I’m a Jedi?” Revan wondered.

  “Guess we’re going to find out,” Canderous said as Veela’s Basilisk swooped in to land beside them.

  The Clan Ordo leader didn’t say a word as she climbed down from her seat. She walked toward the two men, her expression unreadable.

  “Go help with the wounded,” she said to Revan. “You Jedi are good at that, right?”

  He nodded.

  “After that get some rest. Both of you. Tomorrow we climb the first Spear. Be ready to leave at daybreak.” Her words were calm, almost casual, but there was a fierce intensity in her eyes that made Revan wonder if he’d made an enormous mistake.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “I WASN’T TOLD to expect you back yet, Lord Scourge,” the guard at the gate said.

  “Maybe Darth Nyriss didn’t think you needed to know my schedule,” Scourge replied, his tone dripping with acid.

  The guard nodded and buzzed Scourge in.

  Scourge moved quickly down the stronghold’s halls, hoping his rebuke had shocked the guard into not reporting his arrival. The truth was, Nyriss didn’t know he was back yet. He had been expected to contact her immediately after the mission to kill Darth Xedrix was over, but he’d stayed silent, hastening his return journey to Dromund Kaas so he could question Sechel before anyone else knew he had touched down on the planet. He’d arrived late at night, and if he was lucky, he’d catch Sechel asleep in his room.

  In the servants’ wing he paused at the large wooden door and tested the handle, expecting it to be locked. To his surprise, it turned silently in his hand. Was Sechel expecting someone? Or was he merely so confident in his position as Nyriss’s favorite that he believed himself safe?

  Scourge entered the room, silently locking the door behind him, then crept through the darkness to the bed where Sechel lay sleeping beneath the covers. Reaching out, he placed his gloved hand firmly over Sechel’s mouth.

  Sechel woke with a start, thrashing and loosing muffled cries into Scourge’s palm. The Sith Lord pressed down harder and leaned in close.

  “Cry out for help and you’re dead,” he whispered in Sechel’s ear. “Do you understand?”

  Feeling the adviser nod, Scourge slowly drew his hand away.

  “Lord Scourge?” Sechel asked softly. “Is that you? It’s hard to see in the dark.”

  “No light,” Scourge warned, knowing someone might see the glow from beneath the door and decide to investigate.

  “I trust your mission went well,” Sechel said. Scourge couldn’t see the expression on the adviser’s face, but he detected the faintest tremor in his voice.

  “You’re going to answer my questions,” Scourge said.

  “Of course, my lord,” Sechel replied, reverting to the fawning, ingratiating tone he’d adopted at their first meeting.

  “Meekness will not save you tonight,” Scourge said. “The truth is your only hope of surviving this interrogation.”

  He pulled a short, sharp blade from his belt and pressed it against Sechel’s cheek. “My first question is a simple one: Has Nyriss been using me?”

  “My lord, why would you think—mmph!”

  Scourge jammed his hand over Sechel’s mouth, cutting off his words. Then he drew the edge of his blade slowly along the base of one of the fleshy tendrils dangling from Sechel’s cheek.

  The smaller man screamed in agony, but his cries were swallowed up in Scourge’s glove. Scourge kept a steady pressure on the blade so that the fine edge sliced cleanly through the tendril, severing it. Blood began to weep from the wound.

  Scourge waited until Sechel’s spasms had stopped before he pulled his hand away. To his credit, Sechel was smart enough to limit further reaction to a soft whimper.

  “When I ask a question, I want a direct and immediate answer,” Scourge said. “So I will ask again: Is Nyriss using me?”

  “Of course she is,” Sechel mumbled. “She uses everybody.”

  “Was Darth Xedrix really working with the human separatists?”

  “Yes.”

  Scourge analyzed the response, focusing on the tone, pitch, and inflection. Sechel was speaking the truth.

  “Did Xedrix actually try to kill Nyriss?”

  When Sechel hesitated, Scourge responded by slamming his hand over his mouth again. Ignoring the muffled pleas, he lowered his blade to the adviser’s face and severed another tendril.

  “Next time I take an eye,” he said once Sechel had recovered from the pain. “Remember, direct and immediate answers.”

  Lying took thought and effort. It took time. Forcing a subject to answer quickly was a simple but effective tool.

  He removed his hand again, ready to slash Sechel’s throat if he cried out for help. Again, the adviser had the survival instinct to hold his tongue.

  “Again: Did Xedrix actually try to kill Nyriss?”

  “No.”

  The answer was spoken sullenly and resentfully, but Scourge could sense the truth behind the attitude.

  “Who hired the assassins?”

  “Nyriss did. She wanted to draw suspicion away from herself.”

  “Suspicion? Suspicion of what?”

  “Ask her yourself!” Sechel spat.

  Scourge sighed and clamped his hand over Sechel’s mouth yet again. But before he could bring the blade to bear, the door swung open with such force it nearly broke free from its hinges.

  Darth Nyriss stood on the other side, framed by the light of the hallway’s glow lamps.

  “I will answer all your questions,” she said calmly, “but if you harm Sechel again, I will end you.”

  Scourge tossed the knife aside and slowly stood up from the bed. His heart was pounding, and he had to fight against the urge to go for his lightsaber. He’d known there were risks in coming after Sechel; now all he could do was hope his actions hadn’t cost him his life.

  “I assume this conversation will be in private?” he asked.

  She nodded and turned away. Scourge didn’t even look back at Sechel as he followed Nyriss out into the hall.

  Darth Nyriss was silent until they reached her private chamber. Scourge was surprised to find that her Twi’lek slave was not present. It seemed that whatever was about to be said could not be trusted even to the Twi’lek’s faithful ears.

  “Are you loyal to the Empire?” Nyriss asked him.

  “I thought I would get to ask the questions,” Scourge replied.

  “Remember your place,” she warned. “Listen to what I have to say. When I am finished, you will have your chance to speak.”

  “I am loyal to the Emperor,” Scourge declared.

  “Loyal to the Emperor, or to the Empire?” she pressed. “They are two different things.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The Emperor is mad. Unchecked, he will destroy us all.”

  “For a thousand years the Empire has thrived under his rule,” Scourge countered.

  Her words were treason, but there was little he could do about it. If he tried to strike her down, he was fairly sure he would not be able to stand against her. U
nlike Darth Xedrix, she was a Sith Council member in the prime of her powers. Now that she had told him her true feelings, she couldn’t let him leave her room alive. Not if she felt he would report her to the Emperor. His only option—his only hope for survival—was to play along.

  “The Emperor has expanded our borders,” Nyriss admitted. “He has made us stronger. But he is only doing this for one purpose. He is planning an attack on the Republic. He intends to start another war with the Jedi.”

  “No,” Scourge said, shaking his head. “Impossible.”

  The Great Hyperspace War had been one of the darkest times in the history of the Sith. Under the leadership of Naga Sadow, they had invaded the newly discovered Republic, seeking to conquer it as they had conquered every other civilization they had encountered. But despite their early victories, they had quickly lost ground. The Republic hadn’t just defeated the Sith fleets; they had annihilated them. And then the Jedi had pursued the fleeing survivors across the galaxy, nearly hunting the Sith to extinction.

  The decisive actions of the Emperor had saved them. He had led the remaining Sith into the unexplored regions of the galaxy, a decades-long flight that ended only when they rediscovered and reclaimed Dromund Kaas, their long-lost ancestral home. Fortunately, the Republic and the Jedi had never found them here—a small stroke of luck that had allowed the Empire to survive.

  Over the next centuries, the Sith slowly rebuilt what they had lost. They began to expand their Empire again. They conquered newly discovered worlds in sectors on the far fringes of the galaxy, far beyond the borders of Republic-explored space, safely hidden from the ever-vigilant Jedi Order.

  Every Sith knew the story; it was taught to them at an early age. And while the official stance was that the Empire was slowly gathering its strength to one day strike back at their enemies, the truth was far different. Scourge and Nyriss both understood the folly of that path; they understood that the Empire could survive only as long as the Jedi remained unaware that the Sith still lived.

  If the Emperor was really planning to attack the Republic again, he would be repeating the mistakes of Naga Sadow. He would start a war they couldn’t possibly win, and this time the Jedi would not stop until they had wiped the Sith out completely.

  “You’re lying,” Scourge insisted. “Attacking the Republic makes no sense. The Emperor is not a fool.”

  “No,” Nyriss admitted. “He is no fool. He is arrogant. He is powerful. And he is mad.” She looked directly at Scourge. “Some of us on the Dark Council learned of his plan. To save the Empire—to save our entire species—we formed an alliance, vowing to work together to bring the Emperor down.”

  “Was Darth Xedrix part of this alliance?”

  “He was.”

  “Yet you betrayed him.”

  “He became a necessary sacrifice for the cause.”

  “If he was your ally, why did he have to die?”

  “If the Emperor suspected the members of the Dark Council of allying against him, he would kill us all. We had to take steps to protect ourselves. To throw off suspicion, we had to distance ourselves from the separatists who openly oppose the Emperor.”

  “That’s why you staged the fake assassinations against yourself,” Scourge said. “If the separatists were targeting you, the Emperor would be less likely to suspect you were working with them.”

  Nyriss nodded.

  “The plan was to have my own people ‘investigate’ the attempts on my life and place the blame accordingly. But then the Emperor sent you, and the plan had to change. Your arrival meant the Emperor suspected this was bigger than a simple separatist uprising. It wouldn’t be enough to implicate a radical fringe group of terrorists.”

  “So you framed Xedrix.”

  “You can’t frame someone who is guilty,” Nyriss corrected. “I just exposed him. Xedrix really was working with the separatists. Every piece of evidence you uncovered on your missions was real. It had to be. I could not afford to be caught in a lie if you or the Emperor looked deeper into the matter. Allowing Xedrix to take the blame will confirm the Emperor’s suspicion that the separatists were working with someone on the Dark Council. His death will keep my involvement—and that of my co-conspirators—secret.”

  “And you get to eliminate a longtime rival,” Scourge added.

  “A fortuitous bonus,” Nyriss agreed, her face breaking into one of her hideous grins. “Xedrix will not be missed,” she added. “He was a weak link in our chain. He was human, and his power was fading. If one of us had to be sacrificed, he was the most logical choice.”

  “Why tell all this to me?” Scourge asked.

  “You already suspected something was wrong,” Nyriss told him. “Why else would you have tried to interrogate Sechel? If I simply kill you, though, it might raise the Emperor’s suspicions even farther. He sent you to investigate the assassinations; it would be better if you were the one to tell him Darth Xedrix was responsible.”

  She paused for a long moment before continuing. “During your service you have proven your worth to me. You are strong in the Force. Intelligent. Perceptive. You have incredible potential. My hope is that by revealing the truth I can convince you to join our cause. I would hate to discard such a valuable tool without good reason.”

  Scourge narrowed his eyes. This was too easy. Even if he swore allegiance to Nyriss, she couldn’t just let him walk out of the room. The risk that he might report her to the Emperor was too great. She had to have some other way to protect herself, some angle he hadn’t considered.

  He realized he was in over his depth. Ever since he had come to work for Nyriss, she had been playing him. She’d twisted and manipulated him for her own purposes, and he had danced for her like a puppet on a string.

  “What’s the catch?” he finally asked. “How do you know I won’t betray your confidence?”

  “Very good,” she said, smiling fiendishly in approval. “I would have been disappointed if you had simply accepted my offer. Short of killing you, there is no way I can completely eliminate the risk that you will try to expose me. But what proof do you have? Accuse me, and I will simply claim that you are the real traitor, trying to frame me after you killed Darth Xedrix.

  “Remember: whatever actual evidence exists will implicate you, not me. He died by your blade. Are you certain you left no evidence behind that could implicate you in his murder? No drops of blood? No flecks of skin? No witnesses who can place you at the spaceport on Bosthirda the day Xedrix died?”

  Scourge nodded in appreciation. He couldn’t help but admire how thoroughly Nyriss had entangled him in her web. “Let me guess—the files Sechel recovered from the UDM manufacturing plant and the separatist base will implicate me, as well?”

  “Sechel is very good at what he does. Even the experts can’t tell when he’s doctored a datafile,” she assured him. “Even with all the evidence pointing in your direction, it’s possible the Emperor would still believe you over a member of the Dark Council, but honestly, he would probably kill us both just to be safe. That way the traitor is dead no matter which one of us is guilty. And I don’t think you’re the type to martyr yourself out of loyalty to the Emperor.”

  “So where do we go from here?” Scourge asked.

  “Now I must persuade you to truly believe in our cause,” Nyriss said. “It’s not enough to secure your silence through threats and blackmail. When we finally move against the Emperor, I want you on our side.”

  “And how do you intend to convince me?”

  “Have you ever heard tales of the Emperor’s childhood?”

  Scourge shook his head. “I don’t even know what planet he’s from.”

  “Few people do. He’s hidden his past, because if the truth came to light none would follow him.”

  Scourge was interested despite himself.

  “He was born almost a thousand years ago,” she went on, “in the decades before the Great Hyperspace War with the Republic. He spent his childhood on Nathema, a lush an
d vibrant agricultural world on the far fringes of the Empire.”

  “Nathema? I’ve never heard of it.”

  “Once it went by another name, but that name has long been forgotten … just like the planet itself. The Emperor erased Nathema from the history books and the astrogation charts to hide all evidence of his crimes.”

  “Crimes?”

  “Through the lost rituals of the ancients, he used the dark side to conquer death and make himself immortal. But his immortality came with a cost. Telling you what happened is not enough. You must see for yourself. Only then will you understand the price the Emperor was willing to pay. Only then will you understand why he must be stopped.”

  “And how am I to find this lost world?”

  “I will take you there,” Nyriss said. “Then you can witness the horror with your own eyes.”

  “How do I know this isn’t a trap?” Scourge demanded. “Another elaborate trick to manipulate me into doing your bidding?”

  “You don’t,” Nyriss admitted. “But what other choice do you have?”

  She had a point. “When do we leave?” he asked.

  “Patience, Lord Scourge,” Nyriss said. “It will take several days before we are ready to leave. The journey is long, and we must be certain the Emperor never finds out. Traveling to Nathema is punishable by death.”

  “Will Sechel be joining us?”

  “No. This is for your eyes alone.”

  Scourge nodded, silently wondering if the adviser would try to seek revenge for the brutal interrogation.

  “You are part of the inner circle now,” Nyriss assured him. “Sechel will not dare to harm you. See to your injuries,” she instructed, noting the burns left behind by Darth Xedrix’s lightning attack. “Then return to your room and get some rest.”

  As he turned to go, she gave him another of her unsettling smiles. “You might want to sleep with one eye open, though. Just in case.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CLAN ORDO’S VICTORY CELEBRATIONS continued late into the night. Six members of the clan, four men and two women, had died in the battle, a quarter of the casualties they had inflicted on Clan Jendri.