Star Wars_ The Old Republic_ Revan - Drew Karpyshyn [106]
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