I Could not get over this story idea and ended up cranking out this chapter over the course of 12 hours of exhaustion fueled writing, editing and complete rewriting, don't expect daily updates, I'll be hoping to do at most a chapter a week as long as I write well and don't get writers block.
He had been walking for hours, crossing across the sands and rocks, he had been forced to stop at several points, his wound reopening from exertion and needing attention. Once he had fallen asleep and woken again to discover the night sky was gone and in its place was the blazing heat of the desert and scorching sun. Thankfully his suit allowed him to survive the worst of it, but without food or water, he would surely die whenever he was, and he was not about to die to heat after everything he had seen.
Coming over the top of a rocky outcropping, the man laid eyes upon the first signs of civilization for the first time since he crash landed, but it was a sight that did not give him hope. It was a road, a large, paved Stone Road running close to the open ocean, but the issue was the road was stone, and the method by which it was paved was clearly old, as seen in societies from prior to achieving space travel. If he was on some technological backwater, he would have no method to use ships or communication to contact the Empire, which meant unless he just came across some ancient site in this world, he was stuck here.
It was in the middle of this slow realization, that he failed to notice the men lurking nearby him, until it was too late, when the first two men emerged with their swords drawn, he quickly withdrew his saber and ignited it, the crimson red sprouting out for but a moment before he felt a hard force hit him in the back of his head, sending him falling to the ground and lose conscious, hearing words being shouted in a language he never knew, and he couldn't help but think to himself, at least I found the locals.
He had awoken again in a dark room, his eyes sight unable to adjust the pitch black, but he had become aware almost immediately something was wrong, his mask and clothes were gone, and he could tell whatever he was wearing was far from what he was used to. Worse still, he felt metal chains clamped around his wrists and his ankles.
Before he could even begin to consider what to do, he heard the rattling of a key and the creaking of a door, then a door came swinging open and blinding light poured into, before being blocked by the shadow of a large man who marched into the small room and grabbed the chains of his shackled hands.
"Jiōragon bē buzdari, se āeksia jaelagon ao" The Language was unlike anything the man had ever heard before, but he recognized the aggressive tone and hatred within the man's words, and already he felt his anger swell within him as the man began to drag him from the room into the outside world.
As the man was dragged from the room, he was exposed to the outside world and finally got a look at where he was, and it inspired nothing but contempt and hate. Just from the state of the buildings, what the guards wore and used as weapons, it became clear that this world was backwards technologically. A Large Stone Sandstone wall enclosed within itself a large courtyard with several buildings, several small shacks such as his, two larger barracks buildings, one far nicer than the other, a 4-story manor in the very back behind a secondary wooden palisade.
As he was dragged past the palisade, the sandy ground was replaced with a paved and well-kept garden, where several women with collars around their necks were caring for the many green plants. Further in he saw a fine wooden door flanked by men with spiked helmets and long spears, who quickly opened the door as the man dragging him crossed the threshold into the Manor.
Soon he found himself dragged into a large and spacious chamber, one fit for whoever calls this place home, and sitting upon a fine carved wooden chair was an older man, a sneer upon his face as he watched the man be slowly dragged to in front of the chair and forced onto his knee. Resting upon an arm rest with the old man's hand atop it was his mask, and in the other hand was his lightsaber, gripped tightly. Next to the man stood a tall and slender girl, a collar wrapped around her neck and a chain dangling down and tied to the chair. These images flared his anger only further, and only his confusion and half tired state stopped him from striking out then and there.
"Epagon zirȳla skorkydoso ziry mirre" The Old Man spoke in that tongue again, far easier than the brute holding onto his chains, but his attention was not on him, but to the girl standing at his side, who turned towards him.
"Wise Master Prezhok na Nazzon demands to know how the staff works" The Girl spoke Galactic Basic? Well, this was a surprise, but it seemed he would at least be able to communicate, but for the time he had to deal with, well whatever staff she and by extension this Wise Master was talking about.
'W-what staff" His voice was hoarse, he had not had anything to drink for force knows how long, and he could feel the cracks along his lips as he desperately tried to lick them for some comfort. But it seemed his answer was not what anyone wanted to hear, as the before the girl even manages to partially translate what he said, the elderly man raised his hand and took a swing with the saber hilt into his face, blood shooting out and slowly oozing down his face.
"Wise Master Prezhok na Nazzon demands to know how the staff he has struck you with works, how do you make it spit fire" The Girl's voice betrayed her fear, as the old man yanked her chain and yelled his commands to her face, the sight made him sick to his stomach.
"Tell your wise master I'd be more than happy to show him in a live demonstration of its power" The Pure Contempt that came off of his tongue seemed to require no translation, as the old man once again went to swing his saber hilt, but before it could even make contact his arm froze in place, the force simply preventing any of his body from moving. The Sight of the man shaking took all in the room aback, his body seemed to lose all control as he was violently ripped from the chair and forced to hang in the air, the saber hilt falling from the old man's hand and right into the open and waiting hands of the chained man, who in but a moment ignited it, the crimson double blade in but one motion severing his chains that bound his hands then impaling the large man behind him, killing him instantly
The Next Moment, his blade flew from his hands, soaring in a wide arc decapitating the two guards at the door before returning to his off hand, as his main hand gestured to the old man, slowly forcing him to the ground on his knees, his body trembling from the pain.
"You, Girl, does he understand what i say, or does he need you to hear for him" The Girl gave out a meek response affirming he understands 'common', whatever that is, and with that he turned his attention to the old man.
"Listen to me worm and listen well. I already bear the mark of a Slave, a life I have long moved past, but from that life I found the worst kind of scum in this galaxy, and you have the ill fortune to be among them, so make sure to scream to let all your ilk here to know what comes next." With that he reached out and shot his lighting straight at the man, covering his body in the purple glow of the bolts as the elderly man screamed out a blood curdling scream of pain. In that moment he took satisfaction in seeing the man suffer, before his feeble body gave out and he collapsed, dead.
"Girl do you know where they took my clothes" The Slave girl half pointed to a small wooden chest behind the chair, which when opened revealed his robes and armor, taking a moment to make sure they were all there, he quickly threw away the slave rags he had been wearing and donned his robes and armor, the final piece being his ancient mask, once more placing upon his head he took a moment to revel in the terror and suffering before turning to the slave Girl.
She had fallen to her knees, begging in several tongues for…something, mercy most likely if he were to guess. He drew his lightsaber once more and, in but one swing, severed her chains connection to the chair, causing her to fall back from the swing. "It's alright now, tell me what is your name"
The Girl looked up at him, a mix of fear and something else behind her eyes as she spoke with hesitation "Si-sirona" Her voice was quiet, the terror had overtaken her, and she was close to freezing in place, if not for whatever instinct within her that was telling her not to freeze and risk pain or death.
"It's alright Sirona, I won't hurt you, but I need you get up and keep moving if you want to be rid of the men who have kept you in chains" The Man watches her slowly rise to her feet, but before either could say anything else, the door opened and came rushing in were two dozen men.
Sirona could barely believe what she was seeing, not even a moment had passed after the unsullied stormed into the room before the masked man's staff flew from his hands and arced across the room, curving perfectly and beheading the first 4 unsullied before they could even form ranks. Next, with the speed like nothing she had ever seen, he leaped across the chamber, grabbing his staff and landing atop another unsullied, impaling him with its fiery blade. Next, without warning, two nearby unsullied froze, were lifted into the air, then crashed into the ground with a bone breaking crack as the floor seemed to break around their bodies as blood began to rapidly pool. One Unsullied thrust forward their spear, nicking the man along the side, a moment later his fire blade descended down, cutting the head of his spear then impaling him on the blade.
Another Moment passed and the man twirled his blades, cutting into 4 more unsullied, and just like that, in less than a minute, this man had killed 12 of the Wise Master's unsullied like they were nothing, and all he had to show for it was a shallow cut along his side with heavy and ragged breathing emanating from his strange helmet.
But then, just as the last body hit the floor, the man fell to his knees, his hands gripping his side as he groans out in pain. In that moment she takes a step forward but stops when his head whips around to look at her, freezing in place as that cold metallic mask bores into her eyes. The next moment his head falls down as ragged breaths echo from his mask, the strange way it altered his voice clear as day.
"Girl, come here" the metallic ring of his voice shook her out of her thoughts, and she hesitantly obeyed, slowly walking towards the man, who once she arrived next to, reached out and grabbed her arm, using her as leverage as he rose to his feet. His legs shaking and his breath haggard, it seemed like he was out of breath, and could not even rise to standing straight as pain emanated from his voice.
"If you want out of here, then you will help me get outside this blasted manor" a tinge of annoyance and pain hang in the air from the way he spoke, and slowly he began to hobble his way through the manor, leaning upon Sirona. It was in this moment she tried to examine the man's clothes, something she had been unable to truly do now. His Clothes were strange, long flowing black robes that concealed metal armor the likes of which she had never seen, a black hood concealed much of his head, with only his masked face visible, and that Mask. A Full Metal helm, with two empty black holes where the eyes should go, gazing out into the world betraying no emotion or intent.
They made their way through the halls of the Manor, what few guards remained within easily cut down by the masked man, who despite his injuries and evident exhaustion, made short work of the unsullied and sellswords between then and the outside. Soon they were marching out the front door into the garden, where the rest of the slaves had gathered, starring out with a mix of fear and anticipation as the last guard at the front door was cut down easily.
'Sirona, tell me, do they understand what I'm saying" The Masked Man looked at her, his blank state behind the mask.
She responded immediately, her voice having returned to it's normal sound and not the half whisper of fear. "No, they do not know the common tongue."
"Then you will translate for me, leave not a word out" He Turned towards the crowd, and began to speak.
"People of this world, hear me, I have slain your master, I have butchered his guards and those who wield his whips. I stand before you a man once like you, i was born in chains, I have felt the whip and I stand stronger than ever before. Your chains are broken, you are free to do whatever you wish with your life, none shall put you in chains again." It was at that moment, as she finished translating what he said, that the sound of hooves began to near the Manor.