Slaves No More

[Prudence]

Sundari, Mandalore​

The way that the morning sun met the transparisteel of Sundari's towering buildings made the city seem to come alive. The air was crisp and cool, but not so much as to be uncomfortable, as the crowd gathered around the stone stage towards the edge of the city. Atop the stage stood a line of 20 Mandalorian SuperCommandos, of Clan Ordo, dressed in their grey beskar'gam and carrying with them identical heavy rifles. Their armor, like the towers, also gleamed in the sunlight, each of them having spent the entire night before polishing their armor for the occasion. At the center of the stage were situated three kneeling prisoners, each bound so that they were incapable of escaping their confinement. On their wrists were situated matching sets of stun cuffs, and on their legs stun shackles. Each binding was then connected to the floor of the stage by a beam of energy, which if disturbed would administer a sedating charge of electricity to the prisoners. Finally, their heads were adorned with neural dampeners to prevent any usage of the Force.

Pacing behind them was Duke Kalan Ordo, wearing his own set of armor beskar'gam, with a deep blue pauldron on his shoulder denoting his rank as a Duke. He was without his distinctive chest mounted A-140, and instead was empty handed. On his belt, however, rested his two side arms - a TS-15, and a Sunspear pistol, alongside five lightsabers, taken from Sith he had bested in combat. The sunspear practically shone, as its recognizable chrome body had also been polished by the Duke the previous night. Focused on the stage were countless holonet cams, transmitting the footage of what was to occur to every corner of the known galaxy. In an instant Kalan stopped his pacing and turned to the crowd, situated behind the middle prisoner, the Annoo-dat prime. Speaking to the crowd, his helmet amplifying his voice, he said "People of Mandalore, I stand before you representative of the people of Mandalore, representative of you. Years ago we sold our soul to the devil in order to accomplish something more valuable to us than life itself, liberty. In order to achieve this we followed a madman who was willing to take the fight wherever it needed to go in order to set us free, even if it cost us our honor. We sold ourselves to the Sith, aiding them in their conquests rather than focusing on building our nation. With his death, Kyramud freed us from this unholy alliance, and we stand together free, but we do NOT forget. These men before you would have us bow before the Emperor, and enslave our hearts and minds to the Empire. Today we stand as they kneel before us, and we say to Emperor Malon, no you bow."

Spoiler: OOC note

@Comrade Matt @TheMorrigan @Richie B. you have 72 hours to post here, otherwise we will proceed on without you - however your character will still be in attendance.

 

[vamp]

.

"I still want that lightsaber crystal!" Calmax said loudly enough for Kalan and the other prisoners to hear.

The man's logic was so twisted and so flawed that he didn't even know where to begin trying to understand it. He wanted the Empire to "bow," so he took prisoner 3 Sith that were completely insignificant to the Empire? Calmax hadn't even met a Moff before, and he doubted Vrist or the four armed dude had either.

He shook his head, and raised his head so he was facing the crowd. He might've been blind, but the stupid war-lovers ahead had no idea.

Man, I hate Mandalorians, he thought

 

[Prudence]

Kalan had stopped his pacing as he had finished his speech, ending up ultimately at the right end of the line behind the Chiss. He reached to his belt and withdrew one of his trophy sabers, the one he had taken from the male sith killed on Umbara. He squeezed the ignition pad and its red blade sprang to life, casting an eerie glow on the four figures. He stared down at the Chiss, a man he had fought five years earlier on Dantooine, and swung the blade, decapitating the Sith. The Chiss's blue body pitched forward, lifeless and minus its head. He stepped over to the left, behind the Anoodat-prime now, and swung the blade once more. Yet again the crimson blade sliced through the being's neck with ease, causing its head to roll from its shoulders, and its hulking body to pitch forward. Finally Kalan stepped to the left once more and looked down at the blinded human male. He considered, for a moment, maiming the man and sending him to Emperor Malon as a message, but such an act would be egregious to Mandalorian ethics. Enemy or otherwise, he deserved a swift end to his life. He swung the blade a final time, his hands holding firm to its hilt as he decapitated the powerless Sith.

He looked at the three lifeless bodies, slumped forward onto the stage. His eyes narrowed behind his helmet, and he could feel his heart racing in his chest. It had been quite some time since he had performed such an act, and he could feel a piece of his soul die on the stage alongside the three Sith, but he didn't slow himself down to mourn the further loss of his innocence, instead he turned his visor back to the crowd. "This is what becomes of those who attempt to hold down the Mandalorian Dominion. Let these three corpses be a message to the Empire of what is to come."

Stepping away he turned to one of his guards, "Collect the heads, and dispose of the remainder of the bodies. Emperor Malon will be receiving a gift from House Ordo." With that he walked towards the back of the stage, retreating behind one of the Dominion flags draped across it, and into an armored speeder that was waiting for him.

[[From this point on reactions will be open from the holonet or the crowd]]

 

[Hol Horse]

"What is this garbage, I was gonna watch my favorite show!" Sal whined as he let out a loud huff, looking at the holonet from the darkness of his laboratory. His sanctuary in the Deep Core was far from the events now taking place in the Mandalorian systems, yet thanks to glorious technology, it was like he was right there watching events unfold. Every drop of precious blood being spilled onto the ground was in full high definition as their lifeless corpses fell to the floor. The scientist-sorcerer chuckled a bit as he looked from the dead prisoners back up to the mandalorian speaking. What a strong, supple, and young body he had- it looked so good, so good, so good.

Sal pushed back away from his holonet, spinning in his rolling chair, his white labcoat flaring outwards as he disappeared into the darkness of his laboratory, "Wheeeeeeeeeeeeee". Oh well, their oh-so glorious emperor would have his fun with these rabble rousers. That was just the way the galactic cookie crumbled after all, the Devaronian had seen it before.



It was a good thing he liked cookies at least though~

 

[Fyston]

Krom stood silently and as still as a statue during the ceremony, though he couldn't wait for the good part. He had asked to do it himself but had been turned down, though had been allowed to partake in the ceremony as a guard. Inside his helmet, he kept telling Kalan to hurry up, though also wished that the man would back out and allow Krom the honors of snuffing out three more lives. The probably insane Mandalorian kept imagining the different ways he would kill these three prisoners and had to stop himself from grabbing his pistol and shooting all three in the head or from grabbing his knife and filleting them all on galactically syndicated news.

When time came for the killing, Krom couldn't contain his giggling, though ensured that it stayed behind his helmet. He watched with great anticipation as the lightsaber ignited. Behind door number one was a dead Chiss, though Krom's heart panged that he did not kill him himself. Behind doors two and three were similar prizes, each one with their heads separated from their bodies.

After the deed was finished, Krom listened intently as Kalan turned to another guard regarding the disposal of the bodies and the collection of their heads. Krom held up a finger to stop the guard as Kalan turned and walked away. Kicking the heads away from their bodies and into a pile of their own, Krom ignited all three of the bodies with his flamethrower, the sheer temperature scorching the stage and resulting in the holocameras that were floating nearby to back off.

Having seen to the destruction of the bodies, Krom scooped up the first head, that of the Chiss. Looking at it curiously, Krom shoved his hand into the man's trachea. To be fair, he had to exert a fair amount of pressure, though the relaxation of the muscles surrounding his trachea allowed him to get enough of his hand inside to avoid having to steady it with his other hand. Krom did the same with the head of the Anodat-Prime, though his much larger anatomy allowed Krom to get his hand much further into the head. He rubbed each head lightly on his helmet, as if giving them a kiss, before using both heads to grab that of the human. The scales on the Anodat-Prime's head allowing for a good grip despite not having hands.

"I hope you enjoy my puppet show," began Krom to the camera. "You may kill me but martyrs never die," started the Mandalorian, pantomiming the words and giving them a high pitched, whiny voice before dropping the head onto his foot. Krom kicked it back up and managed to catch it again, though two of the other guards had stepped forward and gently but firmly put their hands on Krom's shoulders, silently nudging him inside. Hanging his head slightly lower than normal, he laughed and spoke one last time to the camera. "Maybe next time, for now, watch these burning bodies." His fun as complete as it was going to get, Krom exited in the same fashion that Kalan did, though with more heads on his hands.

 

[vamp]

.

Theme

He shook his head as the Mandalorian passed by him on the way to Morrigan. Calmax could feel a sense of dread creeping through his gut, and he knew things were about to get ugly. These were probably his last few seconds, spent on a stage in front of thousands of barbarians.

The man had reached Vrist now. Although he didn't know him well, Calmax regretted that he would die. He'd stepped in to save his life, and that was one of the most noble things someone had ever done to him. Ironic, considering no Jedi had treated him that way. Kindness comes from the strangest places.

He didn't wince as Vrist's body hit the floor, even though a pang of emotion hit him. Guilt and anger mingled within him as the Trandoshan was killed in cold blood the same way. Then, it was his turn. He could feel the man behind him, and the gaze of the galaxy. A thought occurred to him, and he no longer felt remorse. He was happy. He might as well make his last words the reason he would die that way.

Calmax yelled, knowing this would be his last noise. "You may kill me, Mandalorian, but you have made a martyr out of me. And martyrs never die!"

The blades ignited. For a millisecond, he felt the searing hot blade connect with his neck. Then, all was calm.

 

[Oncaro]

Dea wasn't sure why she had stayed on this holonet transmission as it had come through; she was as opposed to executions as she was to violence itself, for obvious reasons. But as soon as it had come up, Karyn (@Prudence) had insisted on seeing it-- a childlike desire to see violence, coming from a young woman Dea had tried to keep away from such things. And Senari (@Elijah Brockway) had been of no help.

"Oh dear..." the Jedi Knight said to herself, even as she forced herself to watch the graphic images on display.

"Alright, that's quite enough of that," she said, aiming the holonet terminal's remote to change the channel once the corpses of the three Sith went about being burned after being decapitated. Karyn didn't need to see such things.

 

[Prudence]

It'd been five long years since Karyn had learned who she truly was. She'd spent most of her life thinking of herself as the daughter of this noble Jedi Knight, a pure soul who stood up for the good in the galaxy. Half a decade ago such thoughts had been shattered by her two caretakers now shedding the light on the identity of her mother, and her former position as Dark Lord of the Sith. The news had hit hard for Karyn, but now she had come to, more or less, accept it. She was sitting on the couch with Dea and Sen, as any other typical night, when she saw the transmission from Mandalore. They'd caught it midway through the man's speech, and she'd begged Dea to leave it on.

From the way that the prisoners were restrained she could tell they were gonna get executed... she just knew. After learning about who her mother had been, and delving into herself more, she'd found some fairly dark corners of her mind. She had a particular taste for violence, and these executions proved to sate that. Not disappointing her, the man began the beheadings and Karyn's eyes were fixated on the screen.

"Oh my GOD I can see his brainstem!!!" She pointed at the Chiss toppling over, the first to have died. All too soon Dea was trying to switch the holoscreen off, but Karyn was quick. She gave the remote a quick force push to send it from Dea's grip, and retrieved her own remote, "NO WAY!" She was mashing the DVR button, but accidentally hit the slo-mo key as well, and could now see the puppet show, and later torching of the bodies, and high definition slow motion... AND IT WAS AWESOME.

 

[Elijah Brockway]

Senari reached out with a hand, the remote promptly smacking into his palm with a rather loud smack. It might've been a bit of a heavy-handed pull, but he figured it was the easiest way to get it from Karyn without her just negating the attempt; within a second of Dea hitting the slow-motion control, Senari had turned the display off. "That is most definitely enough," he agreed with Dea, giving Karyn a mildly disapproving look. "Nor should you be quite so fascinated with it; you're likely to start seeing a lot more of it and a lot more often - you'll get sick of it eventually." He didn't add the I hope that was mentally accompanying his spoken thoughts.

"Besides, shouldn't you be practicing your lightsaber forms or something right now?"

 

[Zenya]

Lanna stood in the crowd, peering up at the Mandalorian Duke, she happened to know all too well. There was something about the man being on the stage, presenting himself to all these people as the major figurehead of war he was, that made her hold her breath. She was covered in a long cloak, and had it pulled over her curly hair to disguise herself from the crowd of people surrounding her.

Her eyes were on Kalan, and each sympathizer of the Sith Brotherhood, which he cut down, unwavering. It was like second nature to him. Battle had become a chore. She could relate. But she still fought against it. He had become, or so it seemed he had become, desensitized to it all.

She flinched, keeping her eyes forward, almost looking through the gruesome scene. It wasn't so much the death that was disturbing, but the calm.

Eventually, the whole ordeal was finished. The woman sucked in a breath, and took her leave. The duke had not seen her, and she preferred to keep it that way. At least once the energy inevitably died out, she would evaluate her thoughts on a ship, back to the Jedi Temple.