Tale: Addressing the Troops

 Lord Commissar Mackay looked across the thronged mass of prisoners... well, what he could see of them through the muscled slab of his protective detail.

"All right men, you've had your fun, but you'll find me to be a sterner prospect than my predecessor. I won't hold your hand, I won't ask about your feelings... I will ask you to lay down your life for the emperor and I will offer the emperor's benediction to any who fail to live up to my requirements."

Mackay wasn't sure what he expected. He'd wanted to stamp his authority on the mob, and was ready to respond with force if they rioted in response to his words. He'd expected to execute cat-callers and hecklers. Instead there was nothing... just stony silence as hundreds of eyes just regarded him. It wasn't the silence of acquiescence... it was far more unsettling than that.

"Well... I'll take your silence as the message is understood. Carry on men."

The protective detail backed out of the throng surrounding their charge until they were out of the danger of the exercise area. Not a single prisoner looked away until they had left.

Mackay knew that could have gone far worse, but felt it could have gone better, and wasn't sure why he's found the experience so unsettling. He made the sign of the aquilla, and went back to pulling strings trying to drum up some more support for his new task. 

The Emperor delivers great bounties to those who ready themselves for his blessings.

Lord Commissar Mackay addresses the troops. He is there. Somewhere. Honest...