Gutter Goddess
Days after the battle...
Arris Windrun could've looked better. With some quick repairs and a synthflesh replacement, she was at least in one piece, but scuffed and damaged. The cyborg sat on a makeshift bench made of two crates and some sheet metal.
Beside her, a handful of Mandalorians were lined up on their knees, helmets removed.
"Prisoners, my Lord?" A Sith officer asked.
Arris wasn't in the mood, if her dead eyes and scowl were anything to go by. "No - kill them all." It didn't take another word before every soldier fired their blaster. Each body thumped. "If you find a Kestran, you kill them! A single bolt to the back of the head! There won't be any prisoners! Is that understood?!" She sat up, leaning forward as she snapped.
She noticed a few of the soldiers picking the bodies apart. "Those aren't trophies," she interjected. "Send the beskar to Mandalore! Put my name on the cargo." Then, muttered. "They'll want their property back..."
She sighed and sat back down, then reached for a cigarette and lit it. Like usual, Arris rolled all of her problems and got high.
Abregado-rae was ugly. Plague still filled the streets. Hell, there was no telling when (or even if) the planet would fully recover. The Sith had to make do by establishing a safe zone around the spaceport. An electrostatic barrier, supported by large pylons, was erected around the perimeter. It kept the sithspawn out... mostly. The screams of civilians could still be heard, along with pockets of fighting - a local resistance. Maybe a few Mandalorians, if any remained. Tyranny still hung in low orbit, visible from below, and a handful of star destroyers flew even lower, patrolling the upper atmosphere.
Arris knew she'd have to confront
Getting up, Arris flicked the cigarette and started walking. Well away from the firing squads.
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