Religion is the opium of the people

[Darth Libertas]

"Well, that was...disappointing. Auctions have lost their charm. At least we got some good entertainment from watching those fools get into a fight over Revan's pocket knife, yes?" Sumiko remarked wryly as she stepped out of the warehouse and strut into the streets of Nar Shaddaa, accompanied by her minion [member="Illyria"], a Dark Eldorai. Predictably, the only artefacts offered at the auction had been total crap.


Somehow it seemed to her that the city looked even more decrepit and rundown than the last time she'd set foot upon the Smuggler's Moon. Or maybe it was just this sector. Poorly maintained, far too bright neon signs flashed at street corners, marking seedy clubs, brothels, flophouses and drug distro centres. Drifters and hookers hung about in dark alleys, while disreputable merchants peddled a variety of goods. Drugs, guns, sometimes food that was actually edible, along with slaves. Gangsters, easily identifiable by their long trenchcoats and heavy blaster pistols they did not even bother hiding, kept their eyes on pedestrians or spent their time shaking down businesses.


Sumiko's eyes fell upon a slaver, who was offering some of his wares. They were an exotic mixture of Zeltrons, Eldorai and some Wookiees. Those hazel eyes scanned the stock, before she shook her head. Too sickly, too badly beaten, too obviously afflicted with STDs. "Always avoid the open markets. That's where the merchants dump the low quality stock they cannot sell elsewhere," she advised her minion. Here and there, one could hear blaster fire and pained screams coming from the alleys. Or loud and obviously faked moans that implied a whore was busy at work. Just another day in the cesspit of crime.


However, as they passed a bar, they came across an advertisement agent for a business of an entirely different sort. Namely individuals dressed in homespun robes, sporting exotic looking tattoos and somewhat glazed eyes. "You are not alone. The Herald cures the sick, cleanses the lepers, casts out evil spirits and given hope to the helpless. Come to his temple and hear him speak. He will illuminate your path," one cultist declared in a passionate voice, passing out pamphlets.


[member="Valiens Nantaris"]

 

[Illyria]

[member="Sumiko Tanaka"]
Illyria shrugged. “I cannot understand this obsession with ‘Revan’. No one is sure about whether they were male or female, light or dark.”

Illyria glanced at the slaves as they passed, but their suffering did not fill her with pity, only disgust. She turned away derisively when one of the Eldorai slaves extended a hand imploringly towards her.
“Hopefully. Those ones were useless, even for beast fodder.”

The preacher. Now this was something she understood. Growing up on Kaeshana she had always been harangued about the state of her immortal spirit by priestesses. Back then it had frightened her into being a good little Ashiran. Now she saw the truth. The Eldorai religion had held her people back with tyranny and ignorance. Illyria looked scornfully at the preacher.

“I have no time for this charlatan,” she said to Sumiko in disgust.

 

[Darth Libertas]

[member="Illyria"]


"Lady, do you have a moment of time, for our Prophet and Saviour, the Herald? He can help you find true balance and be at peace with yourself and the world. He has traversed the deadlands and returned to us to pass on enlightenment," the preacher declared piously, trying to pass on a pamphlet to Illyria.


Before Illyria could presumably choke him or blast him with lightning, Sumiko intervened and took took the pamphlet from his hands. "That is most interesting. I'll give his word due thought," she said in what passed for a polite tone.


"The temple is open for all, sister. For only a minor contribution, the Herald can help you find enlightenment and be illuminated by Her knowledge, too. Beware of the daemons," Naturally then he had to move on to convert more of the people of Nar Shaddaa.


"'For only a minor contribution'. I imagine these tithes stack up to allow the Herald to live a rather luxurious life," Sumiko commented cynically when the cultist was out of earshot. She flipped through the pamphlet, skimming some pages.


"Sounds like it's one of the many wacko cults that arose after the Netherworld debacle. I wonder if the Herald is a Force-user, impressing the deluded fools with simple parlour tricks. Theatricality and deception are powerful tools against the mundane. You know what, let's check them out. They may be useful. As your people have demonstrated so comprehensively, religion is a useful tool to cow the masses."

 

[Illyria]

[member="Sumiko Tanaka"]
Illyria scowled, the whole reminder of religion being something she clearly did not enjoy.
“I thought when I was young it was just my people who were credulous fools. I have learned it is almost all people. Wretched scum,” she said, subsiding into silence.

She looked at Sumiko. “I will come, but I will not participate,” she warned flatly. There was a certain allure to mocking the magician whose tricks one knew, but she would not playact even fake awe and compliance.

 

[Darth Libertas]

[member="Illyria"]


Sumiko chuckled. "I assure you, my dear, ignorance and superstition are hardly limited to your people...though your rulers have turned the exploitation of it into an art form." The tone sounded almost jovial. Deceptively so.


"By all means stand in the corner, scowl and look stoic. Just don't unmask the 'divine herald' for the fraud he undoubtedly is...until I give the order. Keep your ears open, gather what information you can. I want to see for myself how he convinces these fools that he's been blessed by an otherworldly power." Having voiced these encouraging words, she walked off into the direction of the cult's temple. It was probably a lot less grand than the name implied.

 

[Illyria]

[member="Sumiko Tanaka"]
Illyria snorted. “I can tell you how to manipulate the peasant scum,” she said dourly. “Promise much, perform some tricks capable of anyone with a strong Sciia and keep the fools begging for more.”

Sumiko was clearly decided though because she had headed off. Illyria, for her part headed for the side and rear of the temple. She would infiltrate the back way and watch the show out of sight.

Inside the ‘temple’, which was in reality an old warehouse with rows of crates forming the pews, a crowd was already gathered. Human and alien, male and female, young and old. All had come to look expectantly at a now empty stage.

An ATM had been setup to one side. Inspirational signs and messages stuck to the walls. Everywhere was the buzz of hopeful, expectant people.

 

[Darth Libertas]

[member="Illyria"]


As she entered the improvised temple, Sumiko reduced her Force Signature to subatomic levels. There was no need to show her hand too soon. Unless the so called herald was a more powerful illusionist than her, she'd appear bland and ordinary.


Alien and human, male and female, young and old had all assembled in the hall to participate in the sermon. Sumiko noted that some couples had brought their children with them. Some were still toddlers. Two women were balancing babies on their laps.


Finally, after some waiting, the herald arrived. Immediately, there was chanting. He let it go for a while, before waving his flock to silence. "Please, you honour me too much. I'm just the messenger," he said jovially, before beginning in earnest. "Good welcome, brothers, sisters. I am humbled to greet you in our midst. Especially the young ones," he smiled benignly.


"These innocent lambs are the future. Every young soul we save from damnation is a victory for the forces of Light. My name is Marcion and I am here to tell you the truth. The shroud of the dark side has fallen upon the galaxy. Everywhere we look, the minions of Azrael are at work, sowing chaos and destruction. Make no mistake, my friends, the End Times draw closer. We will face tribulations, persecution and struggle," he spoke in a powerful, deep and somber voice.


"But...there is still hope. We are the last bastion of righteousness in a sinful galaxy. Uriel's light shines upon us. I have beheld his radiant glory and seen the Promised Land." Sumiko resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

 

[Illyria]

[member="Sumiko Tanaka"]
Illyria watched the show from the wings with utter disdain. It was like looking at a children’s puppet show from behind. The seams were showing.
It would be so easy to reach out with her Sciia and pierce this…human…with a manifestation no deity could stop.
She held off though. It seemed her Mistress had a fanciful notion of playing cult leader, and in a small way it amused Illyria to be the cult rather than fighting it.

“And so, my brothers and sisters, I want you all to share with me the bliss of eternal paradise. I want every one of you to escape the evils of the galaxy.”
There was loud applause and calls of ‘praise the divine!’.
“But my friends, the path will not be short, and it will not be easy. There are many pitfalls on the journey to the divine, but I will be your guide to salvation!”
More cheers, and Illyria’s mind turned cynically to the ATM.
“But enough of that for now. Let me show you the power of the Lord. Let me lay hands upon the sick and injured and make them whole again! Is there anyone in this audience here today who is afflicted? Let them come forward and receive the blessing of Uriel!”
Several conveniently placed people raised their hands and rushed for the stage. They had injuries and sickness, or wheeled others onto the stage. He skipped over several, coming at last to a woman who had a pale older man in a hoverchair.
“Welcome, sister, what ails your father?”
“My dear father is sick of the Sith Poison! He was infected, and daily it grows worse!” she said melodramatically.
Illyria, who knew about Sith Poison could tell this was as bogus a lie as Ashira caring for starving orphans.
“By the power of the Divine I cast out this illness! Be gone, Azrael, be gone from this poor man! I command you in the name of Uriel, be gone!”
A bright light flashed from his palm and engulfed the man. When the light faded the sickly man rose to his feet unaided. “Praise Uriel, I am healed!” he called.
“Ba-dum tish,” Illyria muttered, utterly unimpressed. Oh, this cult leader had the Force, enough to use simple tricks and glamour, but he was certainly no champion of the Light able to smite non-existent Sith Poison.

 

[Darth Libertas]

[member="Illyria"]


"You must begin by gaining power over yourself; then another; then a group, an order, a world, a species, a group of species...finally, the galaxy itself." Thus Darth Plagueis had spoken. Of course, comparing herself to the ancient Sith Lord was probably a bit presumptuous. All things considered, Sumiko's ambitions were more modest. Galactic domination did not interest her. The same applied to pursuing the Sith Order's never-ending vendetta against the Jedi.


But making lots of credits and gaining a cult of adoring worshippers? That was doable. This pathetic collection of imbeciles was unimpressive...but she could do so much more with them than the con man who called himself Herald.


She was very tempted to appear on the stage and humiliate him...but as fulfilling as that would be, he could still be useful to her, if he recognised his place beneath her heel. I cannot devote all my time to running this mob, so I need a compliant puppet, she decided. And there will be less resistance if I work within the system, subverting it, rather than imposing a new one. Let him present me as a holy figure.


So Sumiko watched while Marcion 'healed the sick', blessed babies and spent a lot of time prattling nonsense. There was much talk of damnation, salvation and paradise. Time passed, and the children's choir entertained the congregation by singing songs. All believers joined in, singing, clapping and dancing. Sumiko had to admit that Marcion did have a good singing voice.


Eventually, it was time for the believers to make 'charitable donations'. The cult had adopted modern technology, so they could utilise the conveniently placed ATM for this purpose. It was lovely how faith and capitalism could walk hand in hand.


"Brothers, sisters, remember to ward yourself against evil spirits! Our brethren have laboured day and night to imbue these talismans with Uriel's light. As long as you wear them, the Arch-Enemy's minions cannot touch you!" the Herald of Uriel reminded his flock as the ceremony drew to a close.


As if on cue, two cultists, neither of whom looked old enough to drink, began to make their rounds through the ball. Each of them carried a basket filled with talismans, amulets and other trinkets. Sumiko could feel the Force emanating from these devices...but it was faint.


Meet me backstage. Time to chat with 'his holiness', Sumiko telepathically reached out to Illyria. Pulling her hood tight around her face, she drew upon the Force to wrap the shadows around her like a cloak, vanishing from sight. Unnoticed, she slipped away.

 

[Illyria]

[member="Sumiko Tanaka"]
Calmly disentangling herself from the backstage groups, Illyria carefully threaded her way through the corridors until she was confronted by a teamster.
“I’m sorry, Miss, the this area is restricted to the audience. Only those on Revered Brother Marcion’s staff are allowed back here.”
Illyria looked at the man levelly. “I am allowed to be back here. I am a friend of Brother Marcion. You will leave and forget meeting me.”
The man’s face became a mask of puzzlement as he shambled off.

Illyria blended into the shadows as Marcion approached the other way and entered his dressing room with one of his young peddlers by his size.
“The blessed have certainly blessed us tonight,” he said, chuckling.
“Yes, sir, practically all of them bought your new amulet.”
With a beatific smile, he patted her on the shoulder. “Our blessings spread far and wide. Leave me, my child.”
He went inside his room and the click of locks could be heard.

Illyria crept forward and examined the lock. It would be easy enough for Sumiko to get past when the Sith Lady arrived.

 

[Darth Libertas]

[member="Illyria"]


A simple lock, no matter how strong, was no barrier for a Master of the Dark Side. A simple mental command was all it took to force it open. The Herald had been in the process of undressing, shedding his vestments for a more secular form of attire. Thus he was obviously caught off-guard and in ill humour when the two suddenly appeared.


"What is the meaning of this? Who are you?" he demanded angrily. He took a step back when he felt the Force emanating from them. "I smell Azrael's taint on you. Were you sent by the Bando Gora? Know that Uriel stands with me!"


"Let's quit the posturing. Your flock has left. Know that I could kill you at the speed of thought. I'm here to....negotiate," Sumiko began. However, then she heard noise coming from outside.


"Sir, is everything alright?" the good minister's young peddler called out, rushing towards the chamber. "Who are...," she did not get any further, for Sumiko simply snapped her finger and the girl suddenly felt extremely sleepy, falling to the carpet. The heavy door closed behind them and she turned back to Marcion.


"It's time you and I had a chat, Marcion. As cliched as it sounds, I'm about to make you an offer you can't refuse. Uriel truly favours you," she began, stepping towards him. The shaking cleric tried to reach for a comm, but Sumiko fried it with a precise bolt of lightning and drew upon her willpower to pin him to the wall.

 

[Illyria]

[member="Sumiko Tanaka"]
Marcion looked from the fried commlink to his downed secretary, to the two women. Instantly his disposition changed and became less the gregarious cult leader and more the shrewd conman.
“Tell me your offer,” he said, pulling himself down from the wall and sitting in a couch in a relaxed way. He called a liquor bottle to his hand with the Force and poured it into a glass.
“I sense the Dark Side on both of you, stronger in you, making you the Master or Mistress. And you, Lady Eldorai, the Apprentice.”

“I had no idea I had attracted such attention. However, I can sense that you are quite correct about being able to dispose of me instantly, so let’s chat in a civilised way. What is it you want from me?”

Illyria positioned herself just behind the man, but he was either unintimidated or such a good conman that he hid it well.

 

[Darth Libertas]

[member="Illyria"]


Marcion was pragmatic, if nothing else. His comportment told Sumiko that he would turn on any master if someone else gave him a better offer. His craven nature and greedy would make him predictable. When the times comes, I'll replace you with someone who's been completely moulded by me, she thought. Someone younger who sought her favour above everything and was genuine in his or her devotion.


"I like what you've done with the cult. Convincing the dregs of society it's their last hope, while squeezing them for money. I'd like to see it flourish and prosper - and one day extend beyond this little, crime infested moon. There are so many lost souls out there, looking for someone to put them in chains and to give them an icon to prostrate themselves before," she began.


In return for my patronage, you will obey me without question and teach your cultists to do the same. The cult will be at my disposal and as I rise up, so it shall as well. You're a conniving fellow and have a way with words, I'm sure you can sell to them that I'm a holy figure. Some 'miracles' on my part will seal the deal."

 

[Illyria]

[member="Sumiko Tanaka"]
Marcion’s expression didn’t change. He clearly thought the same way that Sumiko did; that he was here only so long as he was useful. However, his sunny disposition did not change.
“I saw you in the audience tonight, but sadly you did not come to be healed. Perhaps at our next meeting I could help identify your divine gifts to the congregation. It always helps for them to feel like they could be the next Chosen of Uriel…even if there’s no chance of that happening!”

He seemed to ponder. “I had been looking to expand my premises to a new location. Once we find the ‘Chosen of Uriel’ that would be the perfect opportunity.”

 

[Darth Libertas]

[member="Illyria"]


Conniving, conceited, utterly amoral. Naturally I won't tell you that I will arrange for a few of the 'True' Bando Gora to attack the congregation. In the climactic moment, I save the faithful from a bunch of 'monsters', Sumiko thought quietly. In her eyes, they were as lame as the Lost Tribe of the Sith. It took work to be that lame.


Any dark acolytes who survived would make good slaves. Crushing your rivals was important for any religion. It will be in my interest to ensure the covenant is unmolested. But if one or two of the Faithful perish, well, all great movements a few martyrs. Their sacrifice would be honoured in the coming church. The temple floors being stained with blood would also compel the cult to be less parochial.


"I believe you and I are of one mind, Marcion," she said, while these thoughts ran through her mind. "Once everything has been set up, we can do great things together. Come on, my dear," she gestured to Illyria. "We'll meet our new friend the next time the faithful convene."

 

[Illyria]

[member="Sumiko Tanaka"]
It was unsurprising that Sumiko was planning to turn the tables, because so was Marcion! As he watched his new associates leave he pondered for a moment, watching his sleeping assistant. Slowly he rose and got himself back into character.

Kneeling down beside her he shook her gently.
“Trina…wake up, my child.”
“Huh? What happened? I remembered seeing…” she began.
“You will not remember meeting anyone in this room tonight but me. You tripped and fell, and I am tending to your injury,” he said with a gesture of his hand. He was no Sith Lord like he suspected the woman had been, but the Force was a powerful tool against the weak minded…and there were few weaker than Trina.
“Oh…ow…I fell?”
“You need to be more careful, my child,” Marcion said chidingly. “Fortunately it was just a bump on the head, and by Uriel’s divine will I have healed it.”
She looked up adoringly. “You’re so good to me, Revered One.”
“It is only what Uriel’s children should do for each other,” he said, raising his eyes to the ceiling.
“I was hoping you might show me some more divine revelations like last night…”
Marcion smiled. “Yes, my dear, I believe I can. Come to my room….” Being a cult leader did have its perks.

 

[Darth Libertas]

[member="Illyria"]


It was likely that poor, weak-minded Trina would end up as the love slave of either Illyria or Sumiko. After all, she had already been trained up by Marcion. It was always convenient when people believed you were a holy figure. It ensured that they would be ready to do almost anything to gain...divine favour.


Anyhow, Sumiko and Illyria left the improvised temple. Outside, it was as dark and gloomy as usual. Unsurprisingly, Nar Shaddaa's air was still horribly polluted. If it got any worse, the residents would have to wear breath masks. It was probably no surprise that wacko cults thrived in such a miserable place.


"No doubt he'll try to gain an advantage. And betray us at the drop of a hat. Have you heard of the Bando Gora? A pathetic knockoff cult is housed a few blocks away. They have as much to do with the old cult of psychotic Chaos worshippers as the Ren have with Vader. I'd like them to 'attack' our friends here."

 

[Illyria]

[member="Sumiko Tanaka"]
Illyria glanced over at her Mistress. “So we can heroically save them?” she asked cynically. She was clearly still not entirely on board with the whole exercise.
“These cults excel at tricking the weak minded. There are many of those here,” she said scornfully, looking around.

There was something about the two of them, the confidence, the unspoken threat, which kept people from harassing them.
Even as they entered an even more grim area they were watched enviously, but no one had the courage to confront them.

“What now? We should find somewhere away from this stench,” the Eldorai said, frowning.

 

[Darth Libertas]

[member="Illyria"]


"Ye of little faith," Sumiko chuckled. "The weak-minded are stepping stones to greater things. We would not know strength if we had nothing to contrast it with." Was the Atrisian getting philosophical? Or maybe she just felt like trolling the Eldorai.


"I will return to my ship and wipe Nar Shaddaa's stench away with a bubble bath and some Naboo wine. You, on the other hand, will go visit the Bando Gora and have a chat with them. I'll see you later, my sweet."

 

[Illyria]

[member="Sumiko Tanaka"]
Illyria’s eyes narrowed. “As you wish…Mistress.” she bit out. She knew her Mistress was taunting her, so without even waiting for a reply she turned and stalked off.

The Eldorai was irritated and annoyed by this assignment. It offended her that the Sith Lord treated her like she was nothing better than a servant. It angered her because she knew it was true.
Still, it was not time yet. Eldorai had the advantage of time over humans. In 60 years Sumiko would be at deaths door due to age whilst Illyria would still be barely middle aged. She could bide her time for a few years yet.

Stalking off, she headed for the Bando Gora outpost. No death cult would stop her imposing her will.