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“I’ve spent too much time away from Dromund Kaas,” he grumbled. “I’ve forgotten the ways of the Sith.”

“That time away is what earned you this post,” she reminded him. “It wasn’t just your success at quashing the rebels and eliminating their leaders. The Emperor chose you because he knew you had been removed from the politics of Dromund Kaas and the Dark Council; you were untainted by any allegiance to a secret master who might be involved in the conspiracy against me. That made you a candidate I couldn’t possibly object to.”

There was almost something insulting in her tone, as if Scourge’s lack of political experience was a personal weakness. Perhaps it was.

Nyriss had held on to her position for the past twenty years; to do so required as much cunning and intelligence as raw power. Next to her, he was little more than a naïve child.

The realization excited him. Now that he had survived Darth Nyriss’s unexpected initiation, he would have a chance to learn at the feet of a master manipulator … providing there wasn’t another attempt on her life.

“You said you found a lead,” he said, quickly moving on to the reason he had been sent here in the first place. “Something you wanted the mercenaries to follow up on.”

Nyriss didn’t reply right away. Instead she seemed to be studying him. “You are familiar with the details of the last attempt on my life?” she asked finally.

“One of your serving droids was replaced with a duplicate,” Scourge said, recalling the details from the file. “The droid was equipped with a disruptor beam; it was programmed to fire once it had a clear shot at you, but the bolt missed and struck one of your servants instead.”

“My best chef. I still haven’t found a replacement for her,” Nyriss said with what seemed like genuine remorse. “The droid wiped its memory core immediately after the attempt, but Sechel was able to slice the core and salvage some of the data.”

“Was he able to identify who programmed the droid?”

“No, but he was able to determine where it was manufactured—a privately owned plant on Hallion.”

Scourge recognized the name. Hallion was a recently conquered world; it had been brought into the Empire’s fold only in the last decade. The difficult transition from private enterprise to an Imperial economy was still taking place. No doubt it would be easy to convince those who owned an asset like a droid manufacturing plant to strike back at the Empire before it seized full control of the facility.

“You want me to go check out the plant,” Scourge guessed.

“I want Sechel to check out the plant,” she clarified. “Once inside, he can slice into their computer network to find out who arranged the purchase. I hired those mercenaries you dispatched to get him past security. That task now falls to you.”

“When do we leave?”

“Not for a few days. I’ll send a file to your quarters to get you up to speed. And a med droid to fix up your shoulder.”

Scourge nodded, and Nyriss turned away and seated herself back at the computer, dismissing him without a word.

For a moment he simply stood there, gathering himself as he processed everything that had happened. Sechel and Murtog hadn’t been behind the attack at the gates, but that didn’t mean they weren’t plotting against him. He was still an interloper, still a potential rival for the favor of their mistress. If they saw an opportunity to eliminate him, they’d surely take it.

He felt a gentle tug on his elbow. Glancing down he saw the young Twi’lek slave at his side. The door to the hall was already open; she ushered him out of the room in silence, then closed the door behind him.

Sechel was waiting for him in the corridor. “Lord Scourge,” he said with a bow, “I would be honored to escort you to your room. I promise there won’t be any more ambushes on the way.”

There was something almost mocking in his tone. Scourge’s initial impulse was to slap the insolent wretch across the mouth with the back of his hand, but he quickly realized that would be a mistake. Nyriss clearly valued Sechel