Star Wars: The Old Republic: Revan (31 page)

“Tee-Three’s right. I’ve already walked into one trap today,” the Jedi answered. “I think I’ve hit my quota.”

Scourge understood her reluctance. Under normal circumstances she would be a fool to accompany him. But this situation was as far from normal as he could imagine.

“Revan told me you were coming,” he tried to explain. “I think the Force gave him a vision of us working together.”

“Then why did you set an ambush?”

“I didn’t know who you were,” Scourge pointed out. “You wouldn’t tell Sechel any of the details of who you were or why you were looking for me.”

“You’re lying,” she said with a disbelieving shake of her head. “You’re afraid to face me. You’ll say anything to avoid a fight.”

“Do I seem afraid to you?”

“No,” she admitted. “You seem strangely calm.”

“That is because I finally understand what Revan meant. He wants us to unite against a common foe.”

“What common foe?”

“Our Emperor is planning an invasion of the Republic. Revan wants to stop him. So do I.”

“Why would you want to stop an invasion of the Republic?”

“The Emperor is mad. He wants to repeat the mistakes of the Great Hyperspace War; he wants to plunge us into a conflict that will end with our extinction.”

The Jedi lowered her lightsaber, but didn’t deactivate it. “Then why did you take Revan prisoner on Nathema?”

“That was before I knew his purpose here.”

He could tell she was still suspicious, and rightfully so. But he thought of something that might convince her. “You spoke of Nathema. Have you been to that world? Have you walked upon its surface?”

“I have,” she said quietly, and he could tell from the haunted expression on her face that she spoke the truth.

“That was the Emperor’s homeworld. To give himself greater power, he unleashed a ritual that devoured everything. When I saw what happened there, I understood the true depths of his insanity. I realized his mind was so twisted and disturbed that he was not fit to rule, and I swore to find a way to stop him.”

He paused and looked steadily at Meetra. “You walk the path of the light; I have chosen to follow the dark side. But we both know the horrors of Nathema are a blight upon the galaxy. Revan knows this, as well. That is why he wants us to work together.”

The Jedi considered his words carefully, then deactivated her blade. But Scourge could tell she still wasn’t wholly convinced.

“Before I go anywhere with you, I’m going to need more to go on than just your word,” she said.

Scourge nodded. Her caution was a good thing; if she’d believed him too easily he would have had to question her judgment.

“I can bring you proof,” he told her. “Wait here and I will return tomorrow.”

“How do I know you won’t just come back with more reinforcements?”

“You will sense me through the Force before I actually arrive. If I’m not alone, you will have plenty of time to make your escape.”

“What about Revan?” the Jedi asked.

“He is safe for the moment,” Scourge assured her. “But I cannot free him without help.”

“You have until tomorrow,” the Jedi told him. “Return with proof and we can work together to free Revan.”

Scourge tucked the hilt of his lightsaber back into his belt and walked slowly past the Jedi and her droid toward the entrance of the cave. They stepped aside at his approach, keeping a safe distance between them.

Just before he left the cave, the Jedi called out a final warning.

“If you betray me in any way—if you come back with reinforcements, or even if you don’t come back at all—I will hunt you down.”

“Save your anger for the Emperor,” Scourge called back over his shoulder. “He is the real enemy.”

SCOURGE KNEW HE HAD TO ACT QUICKLY
.
With long, rapid strides he marched from the cave to the waiting speeder and took to the air, heading back to Kaas City.

He’d promised the Jedi he would return to the cave within one day, but that wasn’t his biggest concern. Sechel had set up the meeting and maneuvered Scourge into taking Murtog with him; no doubt he was eagerly waiting for the security chief’s report on what happened. He had to find Sechel and deal with him before the adviser became suspicious.

Sechel would most likely be at the Nexus Room, enjoying a selection of fine wines while waiting for Murtog to call in. As a Sith Lord, Scourge had access to the facility, but he didn’t want to confront Sechel in a public setting.

He brought his speeder in for a landing a block away from the club, jumped out, and walked to the building. The slave on duty greeted him as he entered the lobby.

“Welcome, my lord,” the young human said, bowing low.

“I have a message for Sechel,” Scourge told him.

“Of course, my lord. Follow me.”

As the slave turned to enter the club, Scourge reached out a hand
and grabbed him by the shoulder. “I did not say I wish to speak with him,” he hissed, “I said I had a message.”

“F-forgive me, master,” the slave stammered, obviously terrified. “P-please tell me what you wish me to do.”

“Wait until I leave,” Scourge explained slowly, as if he were talking to a simpleton. “Then tell Sechel that Murtog needs to meet him. He’ll know where.” He stared down at the slave. “Do you understand?”

The slave nodded, his eyes wide with fear.

“Do not tell him I was here,” Scourge instructed. “Do not mention me at all. Simply deliver the message. If you fail me, I will have them flay the flesh from your bones.”

They both knew it was not an idle threat; by right Scourge could inflict any punishment he chose on a disobedient slave. Of course, the young man would also be punished if anyone discovered he had lied to a member of the club, but Scourge had far more important things to worry about than the fate of an insignificant slave.

The young man stood, still and silent, knowing anything he said could only make things worse.

Scourge turned and left the club. Once outside, he ducked around a nearby corner where he could watch the door.

Sechel emerged a few minutes later and made his way quickly down the street. He didn’t appear to be particularly worried or cautious; he had been expecting to hear from Murtog, so he had no reason to be suspicious.

Scourge followed him at a safe distance, careful not to draw attention to himself. Sechel didn’t head back to Nyriss’s stronghold; as Scourge expected he had a private location where he could conduct business he didn’t want others to know about.

He continued for several blocks, then stopped at a small two-story apartment building in one of Kaas City’s residential districts. He punched in the security code to unlock the door and slipped inside. Scourge waited a few seconds, then approached the building.

Glancing around to make sure there were no witnesses, he pulled out his lightsaber and ignited the blade, jamming it into the security panel. The lock sparked and sizzled, the circuits frying in an instant. A second later the door slid open; as he’d suspected, the panel had been
programmed to open the door if it malfunctioned so the residents wouldn’t be locked in or out of the apartment complex.

The interior was little more than a hall giving access to the various apartments. There were four doors on the lower level, but Scourge ignored them—Sechel would never lower himself to rent a ground-floor unit. There was no turbolift, but in the back of the building there was a staircase leading up to the second level.

Scourge made his way up. The suites on the top floor were obviously larger: instead of four doors there were only two. Scourge picked one of the doors at random and pressed the buzzer. He waited for nearly a minute, but there was no reply. Either the unit wasn’t occupied, or the resident was not at home.

He tried the buzzer on the other door. A few seconds later he heard footsteps approaching, then the door slid open. From Sechel’s expression it was clear he was caught off guard at finding Scourge instead of Murtog waiting for him on the other side.

Before he could react, Scourge jabbed out with his hand, driving his fingers into Sechel’s throat.

The other Sith dropped to his knees, gasping for air. Scourge stepped inside the apartment and closed the door behind him.

Sechel struggled to speak, but all that came out was a rasping cough.

“Make any sound louder than a whisper and your life will end in unbearable agony,” Scourge warned him.

The adviser held up his hand and nodded to show he understood. Scourge waited patiently for him to catch his breath.

After a few minutes Sechel had the strength to stand up. He brushed his clothes off, trying to compose himself.

“Where is Murtog?” he eventually asked, keeping his voice low.

“Dead,” Scourge replied.

Sechel’s eyes flickered wide for an instant, but otherwise he showed no reaction. “It seems I underestimated this woman,” he said, his tone not in the least bit apologetic. “I assume since you survived that she now shares Murtog’s fate?”

“How much did Nyriss know about the meeting?” Scourge demanded, ignoring Sechel’s question.

“Nothing.”

“You didn’t mention it to her?”

Sechel sniffed indignantly. “You have an overly high opinion of yourself if you think Nyriss cares about some anonymous female from your past. This is beneath her notice.”

Scourge nodded. Sechel guarded his cards closely; he wouldn’t mention anything to Nyriss until he had decided how best to turn the situation to his advantage.

“What about Murtog?” Scourge asked. “Would he say anything? Would he tell Nyriss where he was going?”

“She doesn’t keep tabs on us like children,” Sechel sneered.

“How long until she begins to miss him?” Scourge asked.

“You mean how long until she finds out you got him killed?” Sechel mocked. “I’d say you have another three days before she begins to wonder about his absence.”

“Three days,” Scourge muttered. “We’ll have to move fast.”

“What are you talking about?”

Sechel had obviously sensed Scourge’s urgency; he must have assumed something had gone very, very wrong at the meeting. He thought Scourge was in trouble. He wrongly believed the Sith Lord had come here looking for help, and it was making him arrogant.

Scourge decided it was time to clarify the situation. “I want your files.”

“What files?”

“The ones implicating Nyriss and the other Dark Council members. I want everything you’ve gathered that could be used to expose them as traitors.”

To his credit, Sechel didn’t deny the files existed. It would have been a pointless endeavor; Scourge knew him too well. The adviser was loyal to Nyriss, but his primary concern would always be for himself. If things ever went bad, he would need something to bargain with, and what better bargaining chip than detailed records of everything Nyriss and her co-conspirators had been involved in ever since they’d started plotting against the Emperor?

“You’re crossing a dangerous line,” Sechel warned. “Nyriss has turned a blind eye to my collection; I’m too valuable for her to cast me
aside. You, however, are expendable. If she finds out about this, she’ll have your head.”

“Nyriss is not your concern. I am. Give me the files. I won’t ask again.”

Sechel knew the lengths Scourge was willing to go in pursuit of information; the scars on his cheek reminded him every time he looked in a mirror. And this time he couldn’t count on a timely interruption to put an end to the torture.

“Wait here,” he said, turning and heading into the apartment.

Scourge, who had no intention of letting Sechel out of his sight, followed right behind him.

Sechel glanced back and sighed in resignation. He made his way to a small closet in the back of the apartment and slid the door open. At first glance the closet appeared empty. Sechel dropped to one knee and slid back a small hidden panel on the floor, revealing a security keypad. With Scourge watching closely over his shoulder, he punched in the access code. A panel in the back wall of the closet slid aside, revealing a hidden safe. Sechel punched another code into the keypad, and the door opened with an audible click.

“Slowly,” Scourge warned.

“There’s a blaster inside,” Sechel confessed. “But I have no intention of trying to use it against you.”

“A wise decision.”

Sechel pulled gently on the corner of the safe’s door, allowing it to swing wide and reveal the contents. As he had said, there was a small hold-out blaster inside. There were also several data disks, each labeled with a date and arranged in chronological order.

“Is this everything?” Scourge demanded.

“It’s all here,” Sechel assured him. “But it’s encrypted. If anything happens to me, the data is useless. I’m the only one who can decode it.”

Scourge had no way to tell if Sechel was bluffing. But he was willing to take the risk.

“I’m sure I can find a slicer somewhere who’s up to the challenge,” he said, stepping in close behind him.

He brought his left arm up and under Sechel’s chin, the forearm pressing hard on his windpipe. At the same time his right hand reached around and gripped the top of Sechel’s head.

Sechel had become a liability. Scourge couldn’t leave him behind, and taking him with him was far more trouble than it was worth.

The smaller Sith struggled to break the hold as Scourge began to apply pressure to the vertebrae in his neck. There were literally hundreds of ways he could have killed Sechel, but given their history he wanted their final moments to be up close and personal.

Sechel tried to kick him, but Scourge had positioned himself so that the flailing foot of the other Sith only struck feebly against his thigh. He took a deep breath, braced his left arm, and yanked hard with his right hand. There was a surprisingly loud
pop
, and Sechel’s body spasmed once before going completely limp.

Releasing his grip to let the body slump to the floor, Scourge gathered up the data disks and left the apartment, the door automatically sliding shut behind him.

MEETRA SAT STILL
and silent on the floor of the cave, her legs crossed and her hands held at chest height, palms facing each other. She had opened herself up to the Force, looking for guidance and wisdom, but here on Dromund Kaas, where the dark side prevailed, it was difficult to find the inner tranquillity necessary for enlightenment.