First Reply First Heresy

[Villis Mal]

"The Force connects us all. But it does not make us equal."
​

Level 2723. Coruscant had thousands of levels just like it. Billions of beings lived their lives, most having been forgotten by those on the surface. Some preferred such anonymity, for they sought the freedom to carry out their nefarious desires in peace. It was rare that anyone brought law and order to the lowest levels, and even rarer to see the Guardians of Peace and Justice. But the people survived, at least for a few short decades before a gangster gunned them down in the street, addiction robbed them of their minds, or one of the countless sicknesses that ran rampant in the filth brought them low.

Faith was hard to find down here.

That didn't mean ther weren't countless preachers attempting to form a flock.

Among this vaunted group was a man, masked, preaching to a small crowd in front of a warehouse that had been converted into a home for the poor.

"We all desire life. Not just the act of living, but the right to be free and happy despite all the tragedy. Yet even that is taken from us."
​

The preacher spoke to humans, weequay, ithorians, and about a dozen other species of beings. Some seemed genuinely interested, some mocked the masked mans faith, and others still huddled around waiting for the food that was often provided during such events. The masked man and his similarly dressed disciples, maybe four in all, had only been on level 2723 for about three weeks and they had not wavered, even in the face of aggression from the local syndicates. They ministered at the same time each day before they tended to the needs of the less fortunate, providing much-needed sustenance and care to the sick and infirm. They carried no weapons, which all but guaranteed they would eventually be forced out when one of the local gangs decided they wanted the rented warehouse for themselves. But for now, the man kept preaching and those who gathered continued to listen.

"Who is to blame for this? The gangsters and syndicates who use brute force to keep you in line? The police who are too afraid to step foot on these streets? The Galatic Alliance and its inability to protect the rights of sentient beings as they promise?"
​

A few heads nodded in approval, though what he said was hardly new. Most who lived down below the surface understood all to well their lot in life and they knew there wasn't much that would change it. It would take millions of soldiers or tens of thousands of Jedi to purge the lower levels of corruption and violence, an act that seemed utterly impossible given the Alliance and Jedi had the rest of the Galaxy to worry about.

"In truth, none of them are to blame. For we have placed our faith in false shepherds, those who would wield the force in the name of light have lost their way. Shackled to the protection of a Government instead of doing what is necessary for the galaxy."
​

Now this raised a few eyebrows. Not everyone was a fan of the Jedi, but this preacher was starting to sound an awful lot like a Sith sympathizer. While rare, there was occasionally one so mad to suggest that the Sith have the rightful claim to the galaxy and that only they can bring order and peace. How many times did they get that opportunity and simply impose a new terror on the average citizen of the galaxy?

"The Jedi. Blinded by their own self-righteousness. The Sith. Power-hungry and bloodthirsty. Both are responsible and both will be held accountable. For the Force has granted me sight and tasked me with mending its mistake. The force belongs to no being, and so I must purge it from the galaxy so that we might know peace once more! A unified force, a unified galaxy!"
​

The crowd looked on with varied reactions. Was he serious? How mad could he be to suggest the force had singled him out, let alone tasked him with removing every force-sensitive being in the galaxy? The crowd began to disperse, realizing now that they had stumbled upon a madman, nothing more. That was until the brief sound of a struggle was heard from within the warehouse. Only when two of the masked man's disciples opened the doors did the remaining crowd see a human man, his mouth bound and his hands equally as restrained. A few beings in the crowd knew the man, a no-good gangster by the name of Sinder. He was mildly force-sensitive, enough so that he could lift objects and react far faster than most beings. He had been missing for a few days, but it now appeared that the mystery was now solved. The disciples dragged the man forward, forcing him to his knees before their prophet. Sinder was clearly roughed up, but it didn't appear as if he had been tortured.

"Sinder Starscreamer. The Force granted you a gift, once you chose to abuse. Many would call for your death, but I have come to take back what you have taken for granted."

The masked man ripped the bindings that kept the gangster from speaking away, allowing Sinder to respond in an expected fashion. ​

"You bastard, you think your fancy tricks will keep me from tossing your body into the trash heap? You-"
​

Sinder was interrupted when the masked man stepped behind him, placing a hand on his head as if he was about to rip it clean off his shoulders. But instead, there was silence, at least until Sinder began to babble, his head falling back and his eyes rolling back into his head for a time. The only noise heard was the deep exhale the masked man released once his hand was pulled away. Sinder fell forward, many of the gathering crowd believing he was dead. But eventually, he roused himself, his bindings released. Though still groggy from whatever the masked man had done, his anger got him up on two legs.

"You damn fool, I'll rip you apart-"

Hands extended, muscles tensing-

Nothing.

He tried again. Both arms raised, his fingers curled-

Nothing.
​

The gangster pulled his hands back, looking at them like he just lost a limb. Something inside him was now gone, something he didn't know he would miss. In that split second, one of the masked man's disciples shoved the man to the ground in front of the crowd, Sinder still in shock at what had just been done to him.

"What did you-"

"I have made you equal. I have taken from you that thing which you used to harm others. Now they may have justice."

The crowd moved in. Sinder had long plagued them. They desired blood.

This was Villis Mal. This is what he offered every being in the galaxy.

Equality.

​

 

[Prodigy]

Prodigy kept a close eye on movements such as these. After all, it was his purpose.

Most people who proclaimed such beliefs were little more than disgruntled proletarians shaking their fist at the sky. They blamed the Force Users. They were valuable for the movement. But they had no intention of taking to the streets over their beliefs. At least, not without something greater to follow.

This Villis claimed power beyond that of the pen, pulpit, or pistol. The power to equalize. That, Prodigy had to see.

He watched from the back of the crowd, dressed in ragged robes that hid his distinct machine form. Villis put his little magic trick on full display. This Sinder, a Force-sensitive thug, could no longer bend the spirits to his will. Prodigy might have dismissed it as a con, if not for the reactions of the common people. They knew this man. And they indulged in the opportunity to extract penance.

Prodigy’s vocabulator hummed with intrigue. He walked past the violent mob, not even sparing their victim a glance. He approached the masked man behind it all, “Impressive show.” He spoke up, his gaze lifting to reveal a metal visage beneath his hood. “...You are Force-sensitive.” Prodigy assessed, his tone indiscernible. An accusation, or merely an observation?

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Villis Mal​

 

[Villis Mal]

TAGS: Prodigy ​

Though cloaked, the machine was hardly hidden. It towered most of the crowd, and that was made all the more clear when it approached the platform. The disciples that flanked Villis made to prevent the machine from reaching their master, but they were waved off. With hands folded behind his back, Villis stepped off the platform, the mob taking righteous revenge on one who abused the power of the force. The masked prophet looked up, matching the machine's gaze as it spoke. The roar of the crowd hid their conversation, though it mattered little if they heard what went on between the two.

"To cure a disease, one must know the symptoms."

Indeed, Villis was force sensitive. The truth of his past was well hidden of course, but this fact was difficult to truly hide away. But like all Prophets, Villis had his own justifications.

"My only goal is to ensure an equal galaxy. The force is my guide, it seeks to rectify the mistake it made eons ago. I am to be its instrument."

The mob was dispersing, the battered remains of the former gangster left to rot in the street like he had done to so many others. Yet Villis allowed broke from his new companion to attend to the corpse. Kneeling, Villis bowed his head for a moment, silent as the man passed on into the living force. It was not long before two disciples came to collect the remains, seeking to offer proper funeral rights.

"He was cruel in life" Villis began "But in death, the force offers us respite. The being who once was Sinder Starscreamer now joins all who have passed, at peace. His body shall be burned so that it might aid in the preservation of future life."

The Prophet rose, once more turning to face the machine. It was clear that it had gained sentience, a crime on many worlds throughout the galaxy. But he had approached in peace, and therefore he was to be offered the same in return.

"I'm afraid my faith can offer you little. Life does not flow through you as it does those of flesh. Yet you have seen fit to attend my congregation, so I welcome you with open arms. We are soon to offer sustenance to those in need, should you wish to perform a good deed."

Equality belonged to all. Villis did not know how this machine came to be, how it was able to gain sentience, but it mattered not. He was welcome among the wretched and downtrodden, should he offer humility as the living do.

"Tell me, friend, what brings you to us? "

 

[Prodigy]

Prodigy said nothing at first. Simply watching as the man explained himself. Like he were waiting for Vilis to crack, or falter. Then, he let out a simple, "Hm."

"I met a Chaldean Mystic with a similar outlook." He turned to watch the now dispersing crowd, "Though I suppose that was the outlook of all Chaldean Mystics." That culture was largely destroyed now. A shame. They were a stalwart face for the anti-Forcer movement.

The disciples took Sinder's body away for proper services. Prodigy respected the motion. His belief was not one of extermination, but purification. Perhaps this Vilis was not too different in that sense.

"I'm afraid my faith can offer you little. Life does not flow through you as it does those of flesh."

Prodigy replied with a tinny chuckle, "If faith was purely transactional, it wouldn't be faith at all, would it?" He had reconciled with his inorganic nature long ago. Whatever the Force offered after this, was likely not for him to see. But he could be its shepherd in the material realm. A custodian, to nurture balance in the Force.

"I heard about your message. It is similar to my own. I wanted to see if it was real."

Villis Mal​

 

[Villis Mal]

TAGS: Prodigy

"Wise words, my friend."
​

Perhaps Villis misjudged his new companion. He was clearly a learned being who had seen much in his travels. Really, Villis should feel honored that he was sought out amongst all the other prophets and holy men in the galaxy. The machine spoke the truth, faith was not transactional. It was a dedication of one's own life to a higher purpose, a purpose that would see the galaxy rid of false tyrants and heroes. Power would be returned to those who deserved it, the common folk of the galaxy.

"Aside from my demonstration, I can offer little more proof than my word. This power I wield is to save the galaxy from the rot that has set in. The Sith and the Jedi, both are corruptions of the pure and holy force that binds all together. Though it does not flow through you in the same way it does for myself, you seem to serve its goals."

The latter statement was of course an assumption. Surely he had not traveled all this way only to determine Villis to be a false prophet, little more than a charlatan masquerading as a holy man?

"But my faith is more than my power. As we free the galaxy from the grip of the force-sensitive plague, we must ensure those most harmed by their impact are looked after. Would you join us in distributing rations to the needy? I would very much like to continue our conversation. I believe you could offer much and I can offer the same."

​

 

[Prodigy]

"But my faith is more than my power. As we free the galaxy from the grip of the force-sensitive plague, we must ensure those most harmed by their impact are looked after. Would you join us in distributing rations to the needy?"

"…I would." Prodigy answered. What was it all for, if not to uplift the common man? It had been too long since Prodigy could consider the simple aid he could offer. He was too caught up in the greater message. This was as good an opportunity as any to ground himself.

"How did you come to this revelation?" The machine asked, "The nature of the Force. And its corruption by Force Users?"

Villis Mal​

 

[Villis Mal]

TAGS: Prodigy
​

Though the mask hid any real expression, Villis was pleased by his new companion's decision. He gestured for the machine to walk with him as they made their way back toward the compound. It truly wasn't anything extraordinary, just a large building that looked a bit cleaner than the rest of the street, mostly thanks to the tireless effort of those dedicated to the cause. They could accomplish so much more with just a few more helping hands, and that really was the point of the work being done here. The aid of those in need was of course central to the movement, but the galaxy could not be saved without the help of countless more martyrs in service of the force.

"You must understand, there is much of my past that I regret. Time wasted in service of those who would use my abilities for their corrupt ends."

Villis paused, looking to the gathering flock of the hungry and sick who awaited a meal and basic medical care. All was free of charge, all that was asked was that they consider lending their own hand in the future when others needed it.

When Villis needed it.​

But there was much he could not say in front of the gathered beings, his past might damn him and his movement to obscurity forever so many secrets must be kept for the time being.

"What I will tell you is this; I spent many years in the uncharted systems near the galactic rim, seeking a new way that would truly help others. I was met with silence for so long, yet one day I... felt something. It was as if I lost control of my own body and was simply a passenger on a journey. The force had found me in my darkest moment and showed me the way, showed me that I must return to civilization to aid those who cannot aid themselves."

Villis stopped for a moment, rushing to aid an older Ithorian who nearly collapsed after his faulty cane gave out. Though much larger than the human who had come to aid him, Villis helped to navigate him to one of the cots that had been arranged for the sick and helped him to rest.

"The force is a gift. Where others seek to poison it, I seek only the preservation of life. But that means the destructive cycle created by those who use the force must end."

Villis drew a blanket over the Ithorian, allowing him a modicum of comfort, before returning to the new arrival.

"His time grows to an end. He will join the Living Force soon. Let us bring him a meal to ease his passing."

A small kitchen had been established, and beings lined up to get what they needed from the few devoted followers that Villis had gathered over the past few months.

"Would you mind fetching it for me? There are others who I might check on."

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