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OOM: Manufacturing Miracles, Part 2
Jan. 2nd, 2017 02:55 pm(OOC: Dialogue in italics is taken from/adapted from canon.)
It was inevitable, really. Paladius had a strong hold on his followers, and he was not going to give them up without a fight. The most fervent of his followers will be meeting in Meridian Hall. It's a pity Paladius never meets with his cult in person, it would be a prime opportunity for an assassination.
"We can't afford to let him rally his forces," she says, looking over the data Rylee and Destris have gathered.
Destris nods. "We could take them with what we've got, but it'll cost."
Ibani looks up at him. "You mean we'll get a lot of our people killed doing it." There are circumstances where euphemisms should not be tolerated. Destris shifts, slightly uncomfortable with her stare even masked as it is behind her helm. "No, we'll do this another way."
Rylee frowns thoughtfully. "I don't know if there is another way. The ones that are left are almost fanatically devout, you'd need a miracle to budge them."
A terrible, brilliant idea comes to Ibani then. "Or the illusion of a miracle, at least. What would be something big enough to impress these people?"
Destris shrugs, out of ideas.
Rylee suddenly grins. "I've got it! It's a crazy idea, but what if you showed that you could move the city itself - make a groundquake? You know the gas pipes that run under Meridian Hall? Well, what if we blow up those pipes?"
Ibani hums thoughtfully. "Good idea, Rylee!" Ibani replies. "But how would we arrange for such a thing?"
************************************************************************************************
Destris knew someone who knew someone, and getting access to the gas pipes had been disturbingly easy once you knew who to bribe. She's already asked Rylee to get their own people employed as workers on the gas lines under the territory they control if at all possible and bribe or blackmail the rest, just in case.
Meridian Hall is packed with people, Ibani notes as she sneaks in under a force cloak. Taking it by force would have led to a slaughter. The holoprojection of Lord Paladius is just about to begin speaking when Ibani inserts a data spike into the system, disrupting the projection. Incredibly petty, yes, but enormously satisfying.
She drops her force cloak outside of immediate charging distance of the crowd. They move closer to one another, surprised and furious at her intrusion. Ibani spreads her arms wide in a dramatic gesture. "Do you doubt my power still, people of Nar Shaddaa? I, who have laid low the Rot, the slow, terrible death that stalks these streets and haunts your nightmares. Do you still doubt my strength, when I crushed the Krayts beneath my heel?"
She grins widely, though no one will be able to see it beneath her helm. "Then I shall let you feel my power for yourself!" Most Sith never develop the fine control needed to press a single remote button in their back pocket with the Force, but Ibani has. The explosion of the pipes beneath their feet rocks the building and the people above.
It's enough to make them pause, make them doubt. It won't last long, but she has time to convince them if she can only figure out how. She was never taught how to lead on Korriban. Demand, yes. Compel obedience in a hundred different ways, yes. But making people believe in her was never brought up for consideration. Perhaps it's time to trust in the Force. She throws her senses, her mind, open. In the face of all the Life on Nar Shaddaa her own presence in the Force is like a candle before a sun, but there are things in the overwhelming rush that she can grasp.
Anger, overwhelming anger. They have been dashed again and again against the rocks of poverty, crime, misfortune and exploitation, and their anger is their shield and their sword. A Jedi would probably be horrified, but Sith know that anger can be a powerful tool. Paladius has taken the easy path and channeled that anger to destroy his rivals, used it for petty power plays and lining his own pockets. She has bigger plans.
"You call yourselves the Screaming Blade, but is a sword what you wish to be?" she asks, turning to meet every gaze. "A sword is a thing to be used, then cast aside. I believe you are people, and people must be led."
"What have you gained in your service to Paladius, bought with your sweat and your blood? Are your lives better than they were before?" There are murmurs in the crowd, no one standing up to declare a definitive yes or no. "I will not lie to you, those with power seldom give it up willingly. The path of change winds often through blood and fire, but it cannot stay there."
The feel of their attention is an almost palpable thing. "If you do not build as well as destroy you will forever be at the mercy of those who do. What kind of galaxy would you shape for yourself, for your children, for your children's children?"
A large zabrak male goes down one knee and, as if it were a signal of some kind, the rest begin to do likewise in small clumps that spread out like ripples in a pond. "We will follow you, the Prophet and Great Healer. Command us, my Lord" the Zabrak says, looking up.
It was inevitable, really. Paladius had a strong hold on his followers, and he was not going to give them up without a fight. The most fervent of his followers will be meeting in Meridian Hall. It's a pity Paladius never meets with his cult in person, it would be a prime opportunity for an assassination.
"We can't afford to let him rally his forces," she says, looking over the data Rylee and Destris have gathered.
Destris nods. "We could take them with what we've got, but it'll cost."
Ibani looks up at him. "You mean we'll get a lot of our people killed doing it." There are circumstances where euphemisms should not be tolerated. Destris shifts, slightly uncomfortable with her stare even masked as it is behind her helm. "No, we'll do this another way."
Rylee frowns thoughtfully. "I don't know if there is another way. The ones that are left are almost fanatically devout, you'd need a miracle to budge them."
A terrible, brilliant idea comes to Ibani then. "Or the illusion of a miracle, at least. What would be something big enough to impress these people?"
Destris shrugs, out of ideas.
Rylee suddenly grins. "I've got it! It's a crazy idea, but what if you showed that you could move the city itself - make a groundquake? You know the gas pipes that run under Meridian Hall? Well, what if we blow up those pipes?"
Ibani hums thoughtfully. "Good idea, Rylee!" Ibani replies. "But how would we arrange for such a thing?"
************************************************************************************************
Destris knew someone who knew someone, and getting access to the gas pipes had been disturbingly easy once you knew who to bribe. She's already asked Rylee to get their own people employed as workers on the gas lines under the territory they control if at all possible and bribe or blackmail the rest, just in case.
Meridian Hall is packed with people, Ibani notes as she sneaks in under a force cloak. Taking it by force would have led to a slaughter. The holoprojection of Lord Paladius is just about to begin speaking when Ibani inserts a data spike into the system, disrupting the projection. Incredibly petty, yes, but enormously satisfying.
She drops her force cloak outside of immediate charging distance of the crowd. They move closer to one another, surprised and furious at her intrusion. Ibani spreads her arms wide in a dramatic gesture. "Do you doubt my power still, people of Nar Shaddaa? I, who have laid low the Rot, the slow, terrible death that stalks these streets and haunts your nightmares. Do you still doubt my strength, when I crushed the Krayts beneath my heel?"
She grins widely, though no one will be able to see it beneath her helm. "Then I shall let you feel my power for yourself!" Most Sith never develop the fine control needed to press a single remote button in their back pocket with the Force, but Ibani has. The explosion of the pipes beneath their feet rocks the building and the people above.
It's enough to make them pause, make them doubt. It won't last long, but she has time to convince them if she can only figure out how. She was never taught how to lead on Korriban. Demand, yes. Compel obedience in a hundred different ways, yes. But making people believe in her was never brought up for consideration. Perhaps it's time to trust in the Force. She throws her senses, her mind, open. In the face of all the Life on Nar Shaddaa her own presence in the Force is like a candle before a sun, but there are things in the overwhelming rush that she can grasp.
Anger, overwhelming anger. They have been dashed again and again against the rocks of poverty, crime, misfortune and exploitation, and their anger is their shield and their sword. A Jedi would probably be horrified, but Sith know that anger can be a powerful tool. Paladius has taken the easy path and channeled that anger to destroy his rivals, used it for petty power plays and lining his own pockets. She has bigger plans.
"You call yourselves the Screaming Blade, but is a sword what you wish to be?" she asks, turning to meet every gaze. "A sword is a thing to be used, then cast aside. I believe you are people, and people must be led."
"What have you gained in your service to Paladius, bought with your sweat and your blood? Are your lives better than they were before?" There are murmurs in the crowd, no one standing up to declare a definitive yes or no. "I will not lie to you, those with power seldom give it up willingly. The path of change winds often through blood and fire, but it cannot stay there."
The feel of their attention is an almost palpable thing. "If you do not build as well as destroy you will forever be at the mercy of those who do. What kind of galaxy would you shape for yourself, for your children, for your children's children?"
A large zabrak male goes down one knee and, as if it were a signal of some kind, the rest begin to do likewise in small clumps that spread out like ripples in a pond. "We will follow you, the Prophet and Great Healer. Command us, my Lord" the Zabrak says, looking up.
