Election Day (Epilogue of Durasay)

[Durasay Mixo]

Pantora… Eight Months After the events of Nar Shaddaa…

0923

“You’re joking. You want us to trust you? A man running for a position within the very government we’re standing against?” The dark haired Pantoran woman looked wide-eyed at Durasay. It was the climax of several meetings that had been happening since he began his campaign. He was good with people, but this plan required more than just being good. It was the beginning of the Great Work he had started on with her.

“I assure you, the reason I am running and your political interests are complimentary.” The former gunslinger stood tall at the round table. He hadn’t sat with the others. He was hardly recognizable as the man he had been. Gone was the trench-coat. The military uniform. No, noble regalia, his hair slicked back hard with some type of gel or pomade. Piercing yellow eyes looked about the gathered band of anti-centrists. “The way I see it, going to the Senate is the best way to push forward an agenda of breaking down the central government. Instituting reforms to bring more independence for each and every member planet.” His hands folded behind his back; his posture military straight. He did reach out with the Force as he spoke, his words flowing with that little extra push. He could feel how much stronger his words were.

He could see the leader of the group, Suultan Papanoida, leaning back in his high backed chair, listening to the words. He was an older Pantoran, regal in his bearing, a full beard framing his face. “You’ve been quite the fire brand on your holo appearances. Railing against an unchecked central bureaucracy, the atmosphere allowing corporations to take advantage of lax laws to go about their nefarious ends. Mr. Mixo, you seem to be a bit of a contradictory figure in the political world.” His voice gruff, but pointed. The words of another natural leader.

Durasay smiled easily, his eyes narrowing, watching the older man. His posture didn’t shift, he was prepared for this line of questioning. For the way he would have to deal with things like this, if he truly wanted to build an alliance of anti-centrists. Pieces of a web from Pantora to Coruscant to Nar Shaddaa and all points across the galaxy. “But none of it was lies. We need changes in government. A strong central government, like we have, is just too mired in how to please the powerful, how to keep the ones already there in power, keep the status quo.”

He had already been learning new lessons. To be more dynamic. Revolutionary. He was a fast study. Her philosophy was easily becoming his, even if his own applications weren’t as shadowy as hers. But the end result would be the same. True freedom, for the Galaxy. One where someone could reach their full potential, through the Force.

The Force will Free Me…

Papanoida seemed to nod his head in agreement. “So it seems we may have something, as you’ve said. I believe our organization will throw our support behind you. So close to the polls opening, you seemed to be burning the midnight oil.” With that, Durasay seemed to exude a certain roguish attitude. Tilting his head, he smirked, almost arrogantly.
“Councilor Papanoida, I’ve always been one to push myself, I’d hope the news from Nar Shaddaa a few months ago would have convinced you of that. But I thank you for your support, and the support of your group. I promise, this is only the beginning of a spark of decentralization…”

1457

The holorecorders followed his movements as he made his way to the voting booth. A charming wave, a certain sense of somber realization, as the candidate for senate stepped in. Durasay ran through the screen, and raised his hand, before casting his vote. Exiting the polling booth, he looked to the lenses. “I hope my distinguished opponent all the luck in the galaxy, but even more so, I hope that the voices of Pantoran citizens are heard loud and clear throughout the planet.” Small rounds of applause from staffers and supporters who had filed in. A photo op if there ever was one...

2322

The tall Pantoran waved from the Podium, streamers already dropping from the ceiling of his campaign headquarters. He was wearing that Pantoran officers uniform. The rank insignia polished to military standard. Amber-yellow eyes looking out at the applauding and cheering crowd. With ninety percent of the votes in, the system-wide news programs had proclaimed him the victor, not quite a landslide, but a comfortable enough lead that even if there were major groups bringing in votes for his opponent, it wouldn’t be enough to stop a plurality.

“Today is a great day for Pantora. I thank you, for your confidence, and your support.” Durasay began, speaking to not only those in the room, but those across the system as well. “Our people have had a long, and decorated history with the Republic. One we should be very proud of. But we musn’t let our pride, and our traditions, stop us from looking forwards. The Republic has a disease. Festering deep within it. The Senate has seemed to forget who it represents, and what a Republic means. Too much power has gone to Coruscant, and not enough remains on the member worlds!” His blustery words echoed over the mics, while he took a moment to pause.

“Too long has this gone on, and has created an environment where corporations run rampant, not caring about what they do, or what systems they ignore. That will not happen anymore. Not with me as your Senator. As promised, my platform will seek to divest away that central power, and return it back to the hands of member planets. Pantora for Pantora!” He seemed to relish the applause that was generated by the speech. “Thank you all, once again! Good night, and May the Force be with Us!” Stepping off the podium, he shook hands with various dignitaries, aids, staffers. The kind that were wanting to ride his coattails to power.

They had no idea…

0211

The door hissed shut behind him. Finally, a moment to be alone. His eyes closed, as the cross flap to his jacket was undone. A music player could be heard, playing something soft, enjoyable. A woman’s accented voice could be heard singing. It was a recording he had purchased upon his return home, to remind him of that very same woman. How long had it been?

Eight. Eight months.

Yes, there had been scrambled communications. But it wasn’t the same. His mind flashed back to that first time. He had felt something against his carotid artery. Cold metal. But it had been drowned out by something far more. That touch that had crept through his very soul, the way she had drawn out his instincts to act on his desire. The one and only time on the Smuggler’s Moon he had kissed her. That wave of Passion that had moved through him.

And now, that passion would bring him strength.

He held onto that memory, as he cleared his mind of all else. Reaching out with the Force, feeling his connection to it. To her. Could she feel him? So far away? She had her own goals, her own plans. He had his. And then there was this.

A Senator in the Republic. A shadowy agenda. A Smuggler turned Politician. It was the work of some grand holodrama, played out in real life. If it weren’t his life, he might have laughed. Yet this was so very deadly serious.

He felt something. Something stopping in its tracks, as he felt it with the Force. Felt it bound…. But then it was gone. Shaking his head, he moved to the large picture window out of his high rise room. Looking at the capital city of Pantora, his arms folded behind his back.
He wished he could share this victory in real time, with Moyr…