Star Wars_ The Old Republic_ Revan - Drew Karpyshyn [112]
“Set the weapon down if you want to live,” Revan told the young man. Through the veil of drugs, he strained to reach out with the Force, amplifying the other’s fear and confusion.
“No!” his friend shouted above the piercing alarms, still staying hidden around the corner. “He’ll kill us!”
“I promise to spare you,” Revan said. “I give you my word as a Jedi.”
“See? See?” the man with the gun squealed. “I told you he was a Jedi!”
“Nyriss has sent you on a suicide mission,” Revan told them.
“How do you know who we work for?” the man barked, the pitch of his voice rising.
“The Force shows me many things.”
Another explosion from above, this one much closer, caused the guard to nearly drop his weapon. He fumbled it briefly before seizing it with both hands and quickly bringing it up again to point at Revan.
Revan briefly contemplated making a grab for the blaster, but the drugs slowed him physically as much as mentally. Instead he remained still and calm.
“This is bad,” the young man said, squeezing the blaster’s handle so hard that his knuckles were becoming discolored. “This is bad.”
“Just walk away from all this,” Revan told them. “It’s your only real chance of survival.”
“We can’t walk away,” the guard moaned. “The door upstairs won’t open. We’re locked in!”
“Just shoot him!” his friend shouted. “He can’t hurt you. If he was going to stop you, he would’ve done it by now.”
There were several seconds of silence, punctuated by the alarms and another series of explosions in rapid succession.
“Nyriss will kill us if she finds us down here with you still alive,” the man with the blaster said, his voice almost apologetic.
“Nyriss is already dead,” Revan said, trying a different tactic as he tried to apply even more pressure through the Force. “Do you hear the explosions? The alarms? My friends are coming to liberate me.
“You say you’re trapped in here. What do you think my friends will do if they find you standing over my corpse?”
“He’s got a point,” the unseen speaker said reluctantly. “Listen to all those bombs going off. This isn’t just some quick hit-and-run attack.”
“Surrender to me and I will guarantee your safety,” Revan said. “I give you my word as a Jedi.”
The young man’s head turned quickly back and forth, from Revan to his friend outside the cell and then back to Revan again. Then he dropped the blaster as if it were on fire.
Revan calmly stepped out of the cell and got his first look at the other guard: another human male, perhaps a few years older than the first. Both guards were frozen with fear, watching his every move intently. Each time the alarm whooped overhead, they flinched.
“I will not harm you,” Revan assured them.
Both men seemed to relax a little, and Revan tried to project calm, soothing waves through the Force to further ease their minds.
“Sit down over there against the wall until my friends arrive,” he suggested. “You don’t want them to mistake you for a threat.”
Seeing the wisdom of his words, both men scrambled to follow his instructions.
Several minutes later they heard a loud crash from above, followed by the sound of footsteps racing down the steep stairs.
And then Meetra descended into view, dressed in some type of dancer’s outfit. Seeing Revan, her face broke into a wide grin.
“I knew I’d find you,” she said, rushing over to embrace him fiercely.
“It’s been a long time,” Revan whispered, wrapping his arms around her.
After a moment she broke the embrace, and Revan noticed her nose had crinkled up against the powerful odor wafting off him.
“A real long time,” he said with an apologetic shrug, eliciting a soft laugh from Meetra.
“A touching reunion,” a familiar voice said.
“Lord Scourge!” one of the guards shrieked in terror.
Revan spun Meetra to the side and stepped in front of her, an instinctive but foolish move. Meetra was a Jedi; she knew how to handle herself. And unarmed he was no match for the Sith.
“It’s okay,” Meetra said, placing