The Mock Trial

[airlockedmods]

[Jesse McCree is dead, the first victim of, what the Overseers seem to hope, is a long game of motives and murder for whatever their reasons. With the investigation completed, C.E.C.E.'s voice comes over the system and directs the Champions to proceed to the locked elevator door at the end of the hallway. Once all Champions are on board, the elevator begins a slow descent down beyond any area that they've been able to explore so far. At least the elevator music is charming.

When the elevator door opens, the Champions enter a courtroom with 21 podiums arranged in a circle and each one marked with a name. McCree's face grins casually at the 20 surviving members from one of the podiums, a greyscale portrait in honor of the dead.]

Congratulations. We have now entered the trial portion of the test. I trust that you will do your best to determine who disturbed the peace by committing murder. Once the culprit has been found, they will face an appropriate punishment for their crime. If you fail to determine the culprit, however, they will be allowed to leave the space station and the rest of you will face punishment instead.

Comments

[stitch_in_time]

Dyin' here won't help stop them.

[It hasn't been said outright, not yet, but he can't imagine the Overseers imposing any other penalty for refusing to play their sick little game.]

Not everything can always be strictly light and dark. Sometimes you can only do what you have to.

[returnofme]

[Luke winces.]

I know.

[The Death Star. For every hundred Imperial soldiers on there, there was at least one janitor or cafeteria worker or plumber. He thought about it, sometimes. It was worth it to save Yavin and the Rebellion, but...

He brings his metal fist down on the podium.]

Sith hell.

[He could save his father. Why can't he save this girl?]

[stitch_in_time]

I'm sorry.

[Two and half billion innocents on Gallifrey, at least, versus the entirety of space-time. He understands too well.]

I can do it.

[He holds out a hand for Luke's PIP.]

If you'll let me.

[returnofme]

[Luke takes a deep breath. He should do it himself. Own up to it. But...]

Thank you, Doctor.

[He holds out his PIP.]

[stitch_in_time]

It's all right. A little more blood on my hands won't hurt.

[Not bitter.]

>Champion Blogger

[returnofme]

[Luke takes a deep breath and lets it out.]

Thank you. Again. I'm... well, I'm sorry.

[It was just. It was just too soon after his father and the Emperor.]

[stitch_in_time]

Yeah. Me too.