Post by Charlotte on Jul 7, 2006 13:06:50 GMT -5
STOTIA, MID-RIM
Scent of Blood
"We need to wait and see--"
"No. We've seen already," Maddock said quietly from where he sat behind them all. Thirteen faces turned to regard him; some people got up to spin their chairs around as suddenly he was the center of attention, and the previous speaker fell silent. "You know what will happen, eventually. It is what always happens, eventually."
He and the others here were unaware of the irony that their meeting was mirroring a Jedi gathering on Endor. Both here and there, tattered survivors were collecting to reassess themselves, and their universe. Here and there, people sought equilibrium, or some shadow of it; they felt deep concern for the future of their people. Here and there, no doubt, it would all propell them to action.
Maddock was considering, and so there was a drawn-out pause before he spoke again. He still wore his scorched Resistance jacket; it had been cleaned since the battle at Aleph Nine, but not repaired.
"There's a difference now," he said finally, still soft-spoken and still seated with his arms crossed on his chest in a relaxed way. "People everywhere are more vulnerable even than they were when Moonrider appeared. They've lost their means to defend themselves, to stand up against their true enemies. What will this mean to them, and to us? Without our means to defend ourselves, and to feed ourselves, and to explore and to learn... people everywhere might become all the more enchanted with what the Force-users can do. Will they cease to see themselves as equals? That's my fear. With all that's happened, I fear most of all that desperate people will look at the power of our enemies and see salvation. When that happens, when they stop attempting to solve their own problems, they become slaves, as they were under the Protectorate.
"It's so easy to enslave those who only find hope outside of themselves. And, as we and our Ancestors have seen so many times before, those who are involved in Force cults are taught to exploit that fact. They do not always believe that's what they're doing, but that is almost entirely irrelevant. Only the end result matters. And the end result is what we are living now: the destruction of the societies built by people who must earn every scrap of their lives. Which is almost everyone who was ever born! So how can those of us who see the pattern, and who strive to remain strong, 'wait and see' what they will do?
"We know what they will do! All it takes is one of the so-called 'kind' ones losing their way, and we've seen what happens! And who pays? Who pays the price? The people who are working the hardest just to exist! They are the ones who die.
"They are the ones we must defend, now, at all costs, before it can happen again."
The man called Maddock sighed a little, and nodded to the man who had been speaking before him. "I know you know these things. I know you're thinking of us, that we, too, need to see our families, to recover as we can. I meant no slight. But we have no time to waste. There will be no ill-will for anyone who must leave, but for those of us who choose to stay, we must get to work. We are still at war.
"The enemy still lives."
Scent of Blood
"We need to wait and see--"
"No. We've seen already," Maddock said quietly from where he sat behind them all. Thirteen faces turned to regard him; some people got up to spin their chairs around as suddenly he was the center of attention, and the previous speaker fell silent. "You know what will happen, eventually. It is what always happens, eventually."
He and the others here were unaware of the irony that their meeting was mirroring a Jedi gathering on Endor. Both here and there, tattered survivors were collecting to reassess themselves, and their universe. Here and there, people sought equilibrium, or some shadow of it; they felt deep concern for the future of their people. Here and there, no doubt, it would all propell them to action.
Maddock was considering, and so there was a drawn-out pause before he spoke again. He still wore his scorched Resistance jacket; it had been cleaned since the battle at Aleph Nine, but not repaired.
"There's a difference now," he said finally, still soft-spoken and still seated with his arms crossed on his chest in a relaxed way. "People everywhere are more vulnerable even than they were when Moonrider appeared. They've lost their means to defend themselves, to stand up against their true enemies. What will this mean to them, and to us? Without our means to defend ourselves, and to feed ourselves, and to explore and to learn... people everywhere might become all the more enchanted with what the Force-users can do. Will they cease to see themselves as equals? That's my fear. With all that's happened, I fear most of all that desperate people will look at the power of our enemies and see salvation. When that happens, when they stop attempting to solve their own problems, they become slaves, as they were under the Protectorate.
"It's so easy to enslave those who only find hope outside of themselves. And, as we and our Ancestors have seen so many times before, those who are involved in Force cults are taught to exploit that fact. They do not always believe that's what they're doing, but that is almost entirely irrelevant. Only the end result matters. And the end result is what we are living now: the destruction of the societies built by people who must earn every scrap of their lives. Which is almost everyone who was ever born! So how can those of us who see the pattern, and who strive to remain strong, 'wait and see' what they will do?
"We know what they will do! All it takes is one of the so-called 'kind' ones losing their way, and we've seen what happens! And who pays? Who pays the price? The people who are working the hardest just to exist! They are the ones who die.
"They are the ones we must defend, now, at all costs, before it can happen again."
The man called Maddock sighed a little, and nodded to the man who had been speaking before him. "I know you know these things. I know you're thinking of us, that we, too, need to see our families, to recover as we can. I meant no slight. But we have no time to waste. There will be no ill-will for anyone who must leave, but for those of us who choose to stay, we must get to work. We are still at war.
"The enemy still lives."
