Part Two: What Goes Around… (2 of 2)
The auditorium was a sea of faces. Delegates sat in orderly rows, each with a thin stack of papers resting on their laps. Party banners draped the walls, and the stage was adorned with a massive KM party insignia, its vibrant colors catching the lights. Murmurs of anticipation filled the room, rising and falling like waves.
Daman’s polished shoes clicked against the stage as he walked toward the podium. The blinding stage lights made it difficult to see anything beyond the first few rows of delegates, but he knew the hall was packed. A sea of faces, watching, waiting for him to speak. He took a moment to steady his breath, feeling the tightness in his chest. The first speech was always the most nerve-wracking, setting the tone for the entire convention. Daman took his place at the podium, his hands gripping the edges to steady himself. The crowd quieted as the spotlight found him, casting an almost blinding glare. The silence was palpable, a held breath waiting to be released. Daman adjusted the microphone and glanced down at his notes. He had rehearsed this speech a hundred times, but now, with the room’s collective gaze fixed on him, the words seemed to blur on the page.
He cleared his throat, forcing a smile to his lips. “Good afternoon, everyone,” he began, his voice echoing through the auditorium. “Welcome to the Kevantza Mitalldukish party convention. It’s great to see so many dedicated party members here today, ready to shape the future of our great nation.”
A round of polite applause followed, though it lacked enthusiasm. Daman could feel the undercurrent of tension running through the room, the same unease he had sensed in his meeting with the delegate earlier. Everyone knew that Gallai’s supporters were mustering strength, and that any sign of weakness could tilt the balance.
“We stand today at a crucial precipice,” Daman continued, his voice gaining confidence as he spoke. “The decisions we make today will impact the course of our country for years to come. We need unity, stability, and strong leadership to guide us through these challenging times. And I believe we have the strength and the vision to lead Mitallduk into a bright future.”
More applause, a little louder this time. Daman glanced at the front row, spotting his father, Lukian, his gaze fixed on him with an intensity that felt like it could pierce through walls. Lukian’s expression was stoic, his eyes unblinking as he watched his son. It was a look Daman knew well— the look of expectation, of stalking judgment. Daman took another deep breath and continued.
“But we also face challenges,” Daman continued. “Challenges from within and from outside the party. The protests outside are a reminder that not everyone agrees with our vision. But we cannot let that deter us. We must stay focused on our goals and work together to achieve them. This convention is our opportunity to come together, to unite under a common purpose, and to show Mitallduk, the world, that the KM party is strong and ready to lead.”
Daman paused to gauge the mood of the delegates that he could see. Some faces were familiar, nodding in agreement, while others seemed more reserved, their expressions cryptic. He glanced back at his notes before continuing, “We stand at a crossroads. On one side, we have those who would lead us into chaos and uncertainty, offering empty promises and inciting division. On the other side, we have the path of stability, tradition, and progress. A path where we build on our strengths and work together for a better future, together.”
A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd, but it was not universal. He could see a few heads shaking, a few frowns of disapproval. It was the first sign that the opposition was both outside and within the convention hall.
Daman pressed on, his tone growing more assertive. “We cannot afford to let our party be torn apart by those who thrive on discord. We need to stand united, to embrace the principles that have made Mitallduk strong. We need leadership that understands the value of loyalty and the importance of keeping our promises.”
As he spoke, he felt the mood shifting, the energy in the room becoming more focused. Signs of unity began to emerge, but it wasn’t enough. The true test would come with the second ballot, and the threat of Gallai’s influence was lurking.
As he spoke, Daman could hear the distant chants of the protesters growing louder. Large viewscreens were erected outside the convention center to allow people who couldn’t get into the center to view the convention, he knew they were agitated by his appearance. The security presence in the hall was becoming more noticeable, with guards positioned near every exit. He hoped Iskan had things under control, but there was a sinking feeling in his gut. If the protesters managed to breach the convention center, it would be chaos. Daman took a deep breath, his mind racing as he considered his next words. He needed to inspire confidence, to show the delegates that he was the leader they needed. But he also had to be careful not to provoke Gallai’s supporters further.
“It’s clear that not everyone agrees with us,” he said, gesturing toward the entrance, where the security guards stood watch. “But we must remain steadfast. We must show strength in the face of adversity. Because if we falter now, if we allow chaos to take hold, the consequences will be dire.”
The crowd reacted with a mix of applause and expressions of uncertainty. The balance was delicate, and Daman knew that just one misstep would tip it in the wrong direction. He had to find a way to bring them back, to remind them why they were here.
“I believe in our party, and I believe in each and every one of you,” he continued. “Together, we can build a future that honors our past and embraces our potential. We can lead Mitallduk into a new era of prosperity, but only if we stand together, only if we remember what truly matters.”
“As we move forward with the convention,” Daman said, “let’s remember why we’re here. We’re here to choose a leader who can unite our party and guide our country through uncertain times. We’re here to make Mitallduk stronger, more prosperous, and more just. And we’re here because we believe in the values of the Confederacy. Together, we can achieve great things.”
He raised his voice, emphasizing the last few words. The crowd responded with rapturous applause, the energy in the room lifting significantly. Daman knew he had to end on a high note, to leave the delegates with a sense of hope and determination.
“Let’s make this convention a success,” he concluded, raising his fist in the air. “Let’s show the nation that the KM party is united and ready to lead. Thank you!”
The applause was louder now, more sustained, but Daman knew it was only a temporary victory. As Daman stepped back from the podium, a wave of relief washed over him. He had made it through the opening speech without stumbling, without showing any cracks in his composure. But as he walked off the stage, he knew the real challenge was just beginning.
As he stepped off the stage, Akana was waiting for him, a look of relief on his face. “That went well,” he said, his voice barely audible over the applause. “But we still have a lot of work to do. The first ballot is coming up, and we need to make sure we have the numbers for the second.”
Akana glanced over his shoulder at the stage. “But there’s trouble brewing. The protests are getting larger, and security is stretched thin. You need to be careful. One wrong move and this whole thing could blow up.”
Daman nodded, feeling the pressure mounting again. The convention was a delicate balancing act, and he knew it wouldn’t take much to ignite. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the hours ahead. The game was far from over, and every decision counted.
Daman took a moment to gather himself, the applause echoing in his ears. As he moved away from the stage, the convention center seemed to shift in focus. The faces that had been merely a blur moments ago came into sharper relief, each delegate’s expression a reflection of their loyalty, uncertainty, or skepticism. The next few hours would determine whether Daman could secure enough votes to win the nomination on the first (1) open ballot, or whether Gallai’s supporters would gain the upper hand.
Akana reappeared by his side, now with a clipboard in hand, and a frown etched across his brow. “We need to meet with the Inska’s Vice Chair again,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “Gallai’s people are getting bold. I’ve heard rumors they’re offering substantial incentives directly to delegates to sway votes.”
“Substantial?” Daman replied, his tone clipped. “Like what?”
“Contracts, positions, even cash.” Akana shook his head. “They’re not playing around. If we don’t counter their offers, we could lose a significant number of delegates on the second ballot.”
Daman nodded, his mind racing. It was all about leverage, about finding the right balance between promises and threats. He couldn’t afford to be seen as soft or uncertain. If the delegates sensed weakness, Gallai’s camp would capitalize on it.
“Alright,” he said, glancing at his watch. “We have some time before the first ballot. Let’s start with the high-priority delegates. We need to make sure they’re with us, no matter what. And get word to my father. I need him to back me up on this.”
Akana nodded and gestured for Daman to follow him. They weaved through the crowd, which was growing denser by the minute. The main auditorium was filling up, the delegates finding their seats in preparation for the voting. But there was an undercurrent of tension in the air, a sense that the situation outside was becoming more volatile. As they approached a small alcove near the rear of the convention center, they found a group of key delegates waiting. These were the powerbrokers, the ones who could sway others with a word or a gesture. Daman forced a smile as he approached them, extending his hand in greeting.
“Thank you all for meeting with me,” he said, his tone warm but firm. “I know this is a busy day, but I wanted to make sure we were all on the same page before the first ballot.”
The delegate leading the (2) Tadukallai delegation, Yatzik Iban, a tall man with a gray beard and piercing eyes, nodded. “It’s always good to get some clarity,” he replied, his voice gruff. “I’ve been hearing things, Daman. Whispers about quiet deals, some promises that might be hard to keep. Are you certain that everything’s under control?”
Daman didn’t flinch. He knew the game they were playing, and he was ready to play it. “I can assure you that we’re in control,” he said, his eyes locking with the Yatzik’s. “We’re committed to ensuring the success of this convention and the stability of the party. I need your support, and I’m willing to work with you to make sure you get what you need in return.”
The delegate raised an eyebrow, his skepticism evident. “And what exactly does that mean? What are you offering that Gallai’s not?”
Daman glanced at Akana, who gave him a subtle nod, confirming that the others in the group were listening. “Gallai’s people might offer short-term gains, but we’re talking about long-term relationships. Positions in the party, influence over policy, opportunities to shape the future of Mitallduk. If you stand with us, you’ll have a say in the direction we take. If you don’t… well, I can’t guarantee what the future holds if Gallai gains power.”
The Yatzik stroked his beard, contemplating Daman’s words. “You’re asking for a lot, Daman. And you’re not the only one making promises. How do I know you’ll deliver?”
“Because my father and I have a history of keeping our word,” Daman quickly replied, his voice steady. “We value loyalty, and we reward it. Stick with us, and you’ll be in a position to make a real difference. Back Gallai, and you’re taking a risk with someone who’s known for unpredictability. Do you really wanna bet on a wild card?”
The Yatzik considered this, then nodded slowly. “Fair enough. I’ll talk to my people. But you better make sure you’re as good as your word. I don’t take kindly to empty promises.”
Daman nodded. “Understood. And thank you for your support. We’ll make sure you won’t regret it.”
As the delegate walked away, Daman felt a mix of relief and anxiety. He’d secured a crucial ally, but it was only the beginning. The first open ballot would set the tone for the entire convention, and he needed all the support he could get.
Akana leaned in, his voice low. “That went well, but we’re not out of the woods yet. The situation outside is escalating. Security’s asking for more reinforcements. Gallai’s people are getting aggressive, and there’s talk of them actively trying to breach the convention center.”
Daman’s grip tightened on his clipboard. “We can’t let that happen. Tell security to do whatever it takes to keep things under control. We need to maintain order, or this whole convention could fall apart.”
Akana nodded and hurried off, leaving Daman to contemplate the road ahead. The stakes were high, and the pressure was mounting. The success of the convention—and his future as a political leader—rested on his ability to navigate the treacherous waters of party politics. Every decision he made could have far-reaching consequences, and he knew he couldn’t afford any missteps. Daman watched Akana vanish into the crowd, his heart pounding. The voices of the delegates around him grew more fragmented, their conversations peppered with rumors and speculation. He knew that if security couldn’t contain the protesters outside, the entire convention could unravel, very likely taking his political future with it.
He glanced toward the stage, where the next speaker was preparing to address the delegates. The applause had died down, replaced by a low hum of chatter. Daman took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. He needed to meet with a few more key delegates before the first open ballot to ensure their loyalty. He couldn’t afford any surprises. As he turned to leave the alcove, a commotion erupted near the entrance. The sound of raised voices and shuffling feet filled the convention center, followed by a sharp crack—like a gunshot. Daman froze, his eyes darting toward the source of the noise. Security guards rushed toward the entrance, their radios buzzing with frantic chatter.
A wave of panic swept through the delegates, their orderly rows breaking as they turned to see what was happening. Shouts and screams filled the air, and the sound of breaking glass echoed through the hall. Daman’s instincts kicked in, and he ducked behind a nearby pillar, his heart racing. In the chaos, he caught sight of Akana, who was pushing his way through the crowd, his face pale with fear. “Daman!” he shouted, his voice barely audible over the din. “We need to get you out of here. Now!”
Daman nodded, his mind racing. He had to find a way to calm the crowd, to prevent a full-blown riot. But as he stood to follow Akana, he saw a group of masked protesters bursting through the shattered glass doors, their fists clenched and their eyes lit with rage. The convention had erupted into chaos, and Daman knew that the choices he made in the next few moments would determine the future of the KM party— and his own.
Definitions
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Open Ballot - On the first ballot of the convention, each delegate is bound to vote for the candidate they were assigned based on the votes of KM members in their respective provinces. On the second ballot, the delegates may vote for whomever they wish.
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Tadukallai Isles - A province in Northern Mitallduk, Daman won this province handily. There are 533 Daman delegates in the Tadukallai delegation.