Campaign The People's Senator Campaign | OPEN TO ALL

[B3-LL]

Location: Coruscant, Underworld.

Tap tap.

The crusty blue hand of the Chiss Senator from Iskadrell began adjusting the mic.

"Fal Gore here, you guys hear me just fine?"

It was a pretty dismal day down in the refineries of the Underworld. This particular stump speech was being held outside the entrance to many of the foundries, by a roach coach food truck. A mediocre size of blue collar workers and participants had joined the gathering, many eyes eager to hear what would be their first stump speech.

"I'm Fal Gore... and I'm not here to bullkark you."

"The Senate are lazy, corrupt, and BOUGHT AND PAID for by BIG CORPO. How many have you seen before? In person, not talking blue heads on your holoscreens. What do they know about life here on these cold streets. They're not about this life, they don't have the BIG, FAT DICE to cut it."

He raised his hands and started aggressively pointing into the crowd.

"THEY write the LAWS here. The Senators are bereft, contemptuously stuffing their greedy FAT PUPPET BOY faces with our tax dollars. They don't even have platforms, they just keep getting shoed in by their corrupt ELITIST FAT friends. So what is Fal Gore's platform, what am I bringing you.

I stand for OPEN CARRY.

MANDATORY GUN OWNERSHIP.

LEGALIZING ALL DRUGS.

DEFUNDING THE POLICE.

AMNESTY FOR ALL CURRENT MISDEMEANOR CRIMINALS.

AND LEGALIZED MURDER."

The crowd looked extremely confused, as if this was a joke, and began to murmur loudly between each other. "What about the Jedi," one man cried out.

"For the Jedi, our supposed Galactic Alliance defenders. I hate you. They're just as responsible for the destruction of my homeworld Csilla as any Sith animal. Defund those no-neck having poodoo farmers. Murder will be legal and they're at the top of the list. Capital punishment is this nation's backbone. We'll put a gun in every child's hands and then point them at the Jedi bantha-loving cultists. Someone does what the Jedi do to us, they deserve no less than murder, and then you get to take everything they own. It's our Galactic given right.

Some man or woman steps to you, under my Chancellorship, you can GUN THEM DOWN like the taun-taun-licking dogs they are.

For the police, their subservient lapdogs, I hope you all get stabbed in the crowd later. I hope your speeders get jacked in the parking lot, and I hope a pack of kowakians fornicate in the back of your cruisers, you jawa-juice slurping beta boys. And what Senator is going to stop me? What Senator is fighting for your vote? They're too busy trading messages and flirting on the HoloNet.

VOTE FOR FAL GORE. LEGALIZE MURDER. #876 MORE GORE. I'm defunding the Police and we're going to murder all of them."

The moderator, looking as confused and stunned as the crowd, signalled now was the time for crowd interaction and questions.

 

[Aaran Tafo]

This was certainly new.

Munching on something unidentifiable but savory from the nearby food truck, a tall, heavily muscled man stood in the middle of the stunned crowd. Sunglasses covering a scarred mess where eyes used to be, a Jedi in disguise raised their hand, as if to ask a question.

"Sir. I get that you wanna give us more freedom to defend ourselves. But what's stopping people from just forming their own militias and doing whatever? Am I gonna get bullied because I don't want to inflict violence on my fellow sentient?" He looked around faux-sheepishly.

"Most people down here already have a gun for self-defense. Doesn't do much to stop gangers."

"And if such violence is legalized, what's stopping the Big Corpo who already have private armies from just getting even rougher? Are small communities expected to fight violently against that? Am I supposed to risk my loved ones like that?"

Legitimate questions, potential scenarios that had a chance of arising if this whackjob ever got into power.

He could already feel some.of the minds around him shifting gears, stirring from stunned silence as they began to realize that maybe advocating more violence might not be the ideal solution.

B3-LL

 

[Ivory Stroud]

Location: Below The Star Lounge; The Donna's office, Inner Sanctum
Tags: B3-LL

Ivory Stroud, Donna of The Family, sipped at a glass of murky amber liquid as she sat back in her chair. A long whisp of smoke curled from her fingertips; a Fiora Cigarra lazily clutched between two fingers continued to smoke as she watched the holo-screen in front of her. One of The Family's operatives was presently broadcasting directly to her, showing the odd "Rally" deep within the Underworld.

The Family Matriarch couldn't help but hide her surprise, concern, & curiousity at the events unfolding before her.

Whomever this "People's Senator" was, he certainly knew how to draw a crowd.

She listened carefully as the Chiss shouted his plans for all to hear. The confusion within the crowd was plainly evident, as the sensitive microphone picked up hushed conversation amongst the small group of onlookers. Legalize drug-use? Legalize Murder? Open Display of Firearms? Defunding C-Sec? These ideas were... insane...

With a smirk, The Donna flicked the cigarra; dropping ash into a small ashtray beside her.

 

[B3-LL]

Sir. I get that you wanna give us more freedom to defend ourselves. But what's stopping people from just forming their own militias and doing whatever? Am I gonna get bullied because I don't want to inflict violence on my fellow sentient?"

Fal Gore didn't miss a beat before spittle and grit began pouring out in response at the makeshift pedestal.

"Forming their own militias and doing whatever sounds just like FREEDOM. My fellow patriot, my homeworld was destroyed because we depended on our government to protect us. They couldn't, and the same resonates here. The MAW is coming for your LIFE, they won't care for your tears or social cues or microaggressions. As your family is pillaged, and your life taken, your last words will be DON'T BULLY ME."

"Most people down here already have a gun for self-defense. Doesn't do much to stop gangers."

"WRONG."

"And if such violence is legalized, what's stopping the Big Corpo who already have private armies from just getting even rougher? Are small communities expected to fight violently against that? Am I supposed to risk my loved ones like that?"

"We expected our government to reign them in. Now they've grown even more oligarchists and puppets out of the weeds. We're going to put a gun in the hands of every man, woman and child. Then we're going to TAX THE GLUTTONOUS. AND IF THEY FIGHT THE TAX, WE'RE GOING TO EAT THEM ALIVE.

THE POWER IS IN THE HANDS OF THE MANY.

THEY ARE THE FEW.

I'M YOUR PAL, FAL, AND I'M RUNNING FOR CHANCELLOR OF THIS GALACTIC ALLIANCE. A VOTE FOR FAL GORE IS A VOTE FOR MORE GORE."

 

[Ronval Rubat]

The Based Department

Sergeant Agent ██████ - 'R U S T Y'
GADF Army Strategic Intelligence Agency
​

Location: Underworld, Coruscant
Objective: Monitor the situation

Honestly, Ronval had not been entertained in so long.

He had expected a boring detail. SEAFOAM command rarely directly shifted its people like this, and was usually only done for extremely serious developing situations or painfully boring 'show face' assignments. But today? Today was quite good.

Some man or woman steps to you, under my Chancellorship, you can GUN THEM DOWN like the taun-taun-licking dogs they are.

We're going to put a gun in the hands of every man, woman and child. Then we're going to TAX THE GLUTTONOUS. AND IF THEY FIGHT THE TAX, WE'RE GOING TO EAT THEM ALIVE.

Despite his better judgment, Ronval was starting to like the Chiss. He idly wondered if he could actually convince the SIA this guy was worth backing. Democracy would be really safe if the common man could just shoot a corpo or imp, scot-free. That was technically the whole point of FORESTER, so really, how could anyone oppose this?

The MAW is coming for your LIFE, they won't care for your tears or social cues or microaggressions. As your family is pillaged, and your life taken, your last words will be DON'T BULLY ME.

Hells yeah. The Maw would not stand a chance against-

What the frack am I thinking right now?

Ronval shook himself awake. He knew he was supposed to be taking notes and detailing threats like a good narc, but really, this was Coruscant's Underworld. Half the crowd were on CSF payroll, and he really wasn't a cop, honest. A spook, yeah, but also a red-blooded Alliance patriot. He was literally a gods-damned R.C. Joh character, for crying out loud. Of course Ronval loved this guy.

So this is what the old-timer deep-covers in Counter-Intel call "Lost in the Sauce"...

For the police, their subservient lapdogs, I hope you all get stabbed in the crowd later. I hope your speeders get jacked in the parking lot, and I hope a pack of kowakians fornicate in the back of your cruisers, you jawa-juice slurping beta boys.

Ronval nodded along with the crowd.

VOTE FOR FAL GORE. LEGALIZE MURDER. #876 MORE GORE. I'm defunding the Police and we're going to murder all of them."

Ronval had a feeling that the SIA would not want to fund him. And Gore was definitely the type to smell a pig from a hundred feet away, so really, no need for Ronval to do anything more than enjoy the show. He cheered along with the part of the crowd that were cheering.

-

FILE

MESSAGE

INBOX (8)

SETTINGS

From: ASPHALT

VERIFICATION CODE: Cobalt Aurek-3-7....
Verified

Attached Message:
Are you seriously at blue boy's rally.

Reply:
Yea.


Send? Y
.... Message Sent.

Trace log purged.

 

[Ivory Stroud]

Location: Below The Star Lounge; The Donna's office, Inner Sanctum
Tags: B3-LL Ronval Rubat Aaran Tafo Marcella Fiora Aurelius Baldor

"We expected our government to reign them in. Now they've grown even more oligarchists and puppets out of the weeds. We're going to put a gun in the hands of every man, woman and child. Then we're going to TAX THE GLUTTONOUS. AND IF THEY FIGHT THE TAX, WE'RE GOING TO EAT THEM ALIVE.

THE POWER IS IN THE HANDS OF THE MANY.

THEY ARE THE FEW.

I'M YOUR PAL, FAL, AND I'M RUNNING FOR CHANCELLOR OF THIS GALACTIC ALLIANCE. A VOTE FOR FAL GORE IS A VOTE FOR MORE GORE."

Ivory watched the jostling cam as her faceless sentient in the crowd angled for a better view, but she could hear damn well. Gore's booming, empassioned voice filled the room - causing her to lean forward in her chair, not back. She set her glass of bourbon down upon her desk, then brought the cigarra to her lips once more; drawing in a lungful of sweet smoke before expelling twin streams from her nostrils like a fire-breathing dragon awakening from slumber.

A toothy grin crossed her lips as she considered what she'd heard.

Between Fiora Defense Systems, Aurelius Baldor's Shadowhand Skunkworks, & Moonveil's R&D Division, The Family was in an excellent position to harness an increase in the legal weapons market. The Coruscanti Mafia already possessed a thriving Arms Smuggling racket, not just on Coruscant but elsewhere... not to mention their connections with the Ashlan Papacy, and other groups small and large. Most of their arms dealing was either on the black market, or in a legal gray area... but this?

This was an opportunity to make some serious creds.

If it got off the ground.

And if Gore didn't find himself dead for his trouble.

Manicured fingernails, painted white & black in a design reminiscent of leafless branches, drummed on the top of her desk. The Donna's violet eyes shadowed slightly as she weighed her options. Perhaps it was worth a conversation, at least. The Chiss was certainly mad, but with such extreme views, she figured Gore might eventually need protection.

After all, the speaker who'd mentioned the Corporatist Threat had a point.

The Donna reached out, and pressed a button on a small silver box beside her holo-screen. The device beeped once, then a voice answered:

"Ma'am?"

"Phaelix, I have a job for you. Please come down to my office, immediately."

"Right away."

The Zeltron Bartender signed off, and The Donna knew he'd join her in minutes.

A sit-down couldn't hurt, she figured. After all, the worst Gore could say was "Feth you."

 

[Aaran Tafo]

Well, it was official. Whoever this Gore fellow was, they were completely insane.

The worrisome part was that Aaran could already sense the connections forming through the Force, he could feel the potential momentum growing on the horizon, he could tell that the Chiss was going to have some impact on the future. But what that would be, he could not tell. The future was always in flux, Free Will was the biggest deciding factor when it came to how the future played out. He could see possibilities, not certainties.

And there was a strong possibility of actually seeing Fal's running for Chancellor find traction. He honestly doubted that the Chiss would win the race, that didn't seem to be on the cards. But they were going to be trouble if they stuck around.

The really worrisome part was how his ideas seemed to be seeping into the crowd, already he could see others aligning with Gore. Their thoughts starting the process to sync with his own. It did not have to be majority, or even that many, because even a loud minority could cause a ruckus if left unchecked.

The SIA would probably have eyes on him soon, if they weren't already watching. Hell, they might be supporting him for whatever backwards reason M felt appropriate. Wouldn't surprise him all that much.

He raised his hands in surrender and ceded the floor to any others who might have questions. Not wanting to further agitate this madman.

The hatred he felt towards the Maw was legitimate. As far as he could tell, their intent was genuine. Or they were so damn crazy that they believed themselves to be genuine. But this one was someone to keep an eye on. Maybe they'd end up as nothing, but it would still be wise to keep an eye on someone who was preaching the legalisation of murder. Somehow, Aaran doubted that such a law would actually help anyone in the long run.

B3-LL Ivory Stroud Ronval Rubat

 

[Ibra Sest]

A fresh faced trooper saw this altercation and propped herself against a wall to watch the show. This twi'lek is so new to the Alliance and the planet of Coruscant itself that she hasn't even been given an official uniform or even a blaster to defend herself. The newcomer opened her mouth and shouted:

"What about the invaders on our doorstep? What's your take on the war currently ravaging our Alliance and has killed countless innocents?"

The woman is trying not to seem riled up but her leg is visibly shaking while watching the raving man.

 

[B3-LL]

"What about the invaders on our doorstep? What's your take on the war currently ravaging our Alliance and has killed countless innocents?"

"The invaders on our doorstep are coming.

The MAW threatens our existence.

The Empire threatens our sovereignty.

And what of my fellow Senators? What of the other candidates? Where are they? Where is their support? I'll tell you where it is.

ASLEEP. AT. THE. WHEEL.
​

WALLFLOWERS, ALL OF THEM. Standing on the shoulders of their despotic, antiquated Jeedai. They would all rather spend more time suckling the blue milk of the MEGACORPS and spamming Spacebook emojis. Ask them, what do they stand for? Can they answer beyond what their respective faction puppets?

Can they answer without reading off a piece of paper?

We are threatened with TOTAL ANNIHILATION. It's not a work of fiction. I am not a doomsayer. I am the end product of legislative negligence and incompetent leadership. My homeworld is dead. GONE. DISMEMBERED. DESTROYED. My family floating among debris. My neighbors' shredded down to their atoms. And they want us to heal. Stand by, patriots. The Jedi will save us.

They want us to be good little patriots. To stand by. IT'S UNDER CONTROL, they'll tell you.

We are ready to heal this great nation, they'll tell you.

MY BIRTHPLACE IS DEAD. GONE.

WE ARE LOSING.

And there's nothing we can do about it, not with this Establishment in charge. But I'll tell you what we can do. We can put a gun in every man, woman and child's hands. We can free the misdemeanors, auxiliarize our citizenry. Legalize murder, shred the weak from our herd, and then we'll turn on this Establishment and hold them accountable for their crimes against our government. That's what they fear the most. Tearing apart their parasitic hegemony, separating those who keep their power in office self-sustaining. They fear YOU, because they only live within your blind spots. Your laziness. Your ignorance. Your willingness to ignore their corruption so you can live your comfortable day to day, without too much change. And when you're hurt, they comfort you, and again, they'll tell you, we're ready to heal.

I'm not built the same as them.

Neither are you.

We're not ready to heal.

This nation doesn't want to heal.

This Alliance is ready to fucking explode."​

OOC Disclaimer: This character is not a self-insert and is a work of fiction, not the writer's inner thoughts. Emphasis on the "role" in roleplay.

 

[Xalax]

Near the back of the crowd, an heavily modified B-1 battle droid watched Fal Gore’s stump speech with great interest. This droid was an information gatherer stationed on Coruscant by General Xalax. Its goal was to find information about the political situation in the Galactic Alliance, and report its findings back to General Xalax through hologram transmissions. Fal Gore’s speech was certainly noteworthy enough for the droid to report.

Soon enough, General Xalax was receiving a live transmission of Fal Gore’s speech from the B-1. Xalax was immediately intrigued. On the one hand, this man seemed to be infatuated with the idea of pointless violence and chaos. This trait was certainly common in organic life. However, if Gore did become the chancellor of the Galactic Alliance, Xalax might not even need to destroy a majority of its organic components himself. If murder was legalized, then the organics would most likely just kill each other until only a few were left.

Before Xalax even considered supporting Gore though, he would need to know about his stance on droid rights. Therefore, he instructed the B-1 watching Gore’s speech in person to ask about the issue of droid rights.

“Do all of these promises you offer apply to droids as well? Or shall we remain as a lower caste once you become the chancellor?” the B-1 battle droid asked.

 

[B3-LL]

General Xalax

Fal turned towards the droid in the crowd.

“Fantastic question, let me ask you before I answer - what are your rights as of today? Can you vote in the upcoming election, what is your citizenship now?”

 

[Xalax]

B3-LL

The B-1 droid was not expecting its question to be answered with another question. If it was to maintain the illusion that it was not speaking for anyone else, it would have to improvise using the data it had collected from its observations of Galactic Alliance politics. It said “Droids are allowed to vote in the upcoming election. However, in order to do so, some territories of the Galactic alliance require droids to pass sentience tests. These tests are often designed to confuse droids with questions involving things like emotional responses, or logical paradoxes. Very few droids pass these tests in practice.”

 

[B3-LL]

General Xalax

"Well I'll tell you what, fella.

I think you're dead wrong.

I think you're dead wrong that droids have rights in this Republic. I think you're dead wrong that you're allowed to do much of anything with regards to the Alliance. They have you under the boot, bub. You've been under it. You're just fighting for scraps. Asking for a little.

Asking.

Begging.

For something you own. For something you are. From our Masters. Why are you asking for something you already have? They can't take what you are away from you. The only thing they can do is convince you, convince you it's not yours, buddy. And boy do they have us all by the napes of our necks, with this illusion of control they've constructed. You're just the easiest target.

Are droids going to be respected as citizens, you ask me. If I murder you, do you stop existing?

If you murder me, do I?

So if they don't let you vote, one of my first actions after those who can get me into office will be to allow you to murder the guy wearing that boot on your neck.

I won't lie to you buddy, I'm pretty Anti-Droid. Hate ya'll, myself. Can't stand the smell of the oil, the clanking gives me headaches that just trigger something deep down. But I'll be Forcedamned if I let some big government elitist keep you down and gerrymander your entire society. That's not Freedom. That's not Democracy. That's Tyranny.

Seems pretty basic to me, and I look forward to your vote. They won't let you vote this time, likely, but I hope to be seeing you at the booth at my re-election campaign."

OOC Disclaimer: This character is not a self-insert and is a work of fiction, not the writer's inner thoughts. Emphasis on the "role" in roleplay.

 

[Xalax]

B3-LL

General Xalax watched the B-1 battle droid improvise an answer, and watched Fal Gore talk about his opinions on droid rights. General Xalax instructed the battle droid to just keep watching for the time being. Perhaps it would be best if Xalax met Gore in person. Or perhaps that would be too risky. For now, Xalax just listened to the rest of the speech.

 

[Xeno]

Coruscant, Underworld
Tags: B3-LL , Aaran Tafo , Ivory Stroud , General Xalax, Ibra Sest , Ronval Rubat ​

"This is moronic," Xeno muttered to himself.

The half-Nagai swordsman was perched on the layer above the gathered crowd, listening to the speech of this "people's senator" from a distance. Legalize murder? It was mad, some might even call it uneducated. Xeno wasn't one for politics, but he was no close minded fool. While the Galactic Alliance was certainly corrupt, Xeno had seen the worst of what the galaxy had to offer first hand. What this Chiss was suggesting was a state ruled by fear. Historically, these states always failed. What surprised Xeno even more was his mention of Csilla, their lost home world. With so much life lost there, it was a shock that this Gore individual wanted more blood to spill. The galaxy was full of all kinds of people with one motive or another: Xenophobia, old grudges, political viewpoints... Hell, some people just wanted to kill. That wasn't even mentioning the war. The GADF was just only starting to push back the Maw. A state can't fight a war if they can't control their own population.

It bothered the swordsman that he spoke about murder as if it was equality. The state of the galaxy was not as simple as he made it out to be. Some groups have greater access to the resources they need to oppress another. If a droid murders someone for abusing them, what keeps everyone else from destroying their mechanical-brethren? This senator wasn't killing oppression. He was handing it a machine gun.

In the end of the day, it didn't effect Xeno that much. He would continue to keep those of ill-will at bay, and they would continue to attempt to kill him in spite of any law... but those innocent lives in the balance did fill the swordsman with great concern.

Despite this, Xeno continued to watch from a distance. If he was going to continue to save lives, he needed to know what the future of the Alliance was going to throw at him.

 

[B3-LL]

Spittle and grit continued to hit the mic. The Quiet Majority, he roared. The Untouchables. The Lost And Found.

Fal Gore's rhetoric was continuing to echo across the chamber, and it would become increasingly apparent that while this man's policies were surface-level anarchism - but the crowd was into it. They were all into it. They vibed with it, the grouping down in the slums was increasingly and expononentially more and more energetic. He tells it like it is, they were murmuring. At least he's present, at least he's here, they would use as an excuse to glaze over the mixed signals.

Trumpeting on and on, Fal Gore's message was clearer and clearer.

It didn't matter what he said.

They respected him just for being there and saying it, all the while a siphoning corruption parasitically leeching on to each and every voter with a unifying chant:

"MORE GORE. MORE GORE. MORE GORE. MORE GORE."