Resurgence
"We must adhere to our traditions! If we were to abandon our time honored values now, then what is to stop us from abandoning all that makes us Rethellian!"cried a person from one side of the chambers, who was promptly drowned out by the shouts of the crowd on the other side. Ilmas Vagon, the reigning emperor of the Rethellian Empire, had been sitting in this chamber for about three hours listening to the council bicker and argue about, from his point of view, meaningless things. He reigned as emperor for only 30 years and already it was becoming more of an annoyance than a heralded position. His father, the previous emperor, passed the empire down to him, as did his father's father and so on and so forth, resulting in him taking the throne at the extremely young age of 1800, which was unheard of to their species who lived long lives.
As he listened to the arguments, shouts and insults flung from one side to the other, he pondered as to the reason for his attendance to these council meetings if he had the final say so in every decision. It seemed rather pointless, a waste of time that could be spent doing things that actually have some effect, rather than arguing and insulting one another. Oh, that's right, tradition deemed it pertinent that he attend, lest he cause a scandal with the council. Not that he cared, but his closest advisors sure seemed to care. If they cared, why listen to their incessant drivel about relations with the council and the like and just come to the meetings.
The 'issue' being 'debated' in this council meeting was whether or not to expand beyond their star system, to reclaim the former glory of the once galaxy spanning Rethellian Empire, now a pale shadow of its former self, confined to their homeworld. He has heard this topic being brought up so many times, he has grown rather tired of the constant bickering. An especially loud shout drew his attention from his thoughts back to the chamber floor.
"We still haven't quelled the rebellions on our home planet! What makes you think expansion into the galaxy is what we need right now?" One council member shouted. This particular council member is the official leader of the Traditionalist Party, an organization dedicated to preserving tradition and time honored values. "We need to stay here on our homeworld, quell the flame of rebellion and then maybe we can discuss expanding. Who knows what could have sprung up to fill the void after we withdrew from the galactic stage, and I for one will not risk the lives of our people for the petulant ambitions of a certain power hungry warmonger who flouts tradition and everything that makes us Rethellian!" he shouted, earning gasps and cries of outrage from the other side of the chamber.
"And not only that. We still have issues we need to resolve before we venture into the stars to claim our old colony worlds. Our world is experiencing a shortage of jobs, homes, and basic necessities. We must resolve this before we do anything else," he finished with a huff.
"What my cowardly counterpart doesn't understand is that we are destined to rule the galaxy. We conquered it before in its entirety and ruled for six hundred thousand millennia before we retreated, kickstarting a golden age for our people. Unprecedented wealth flowed into the coffers, our military strength was unchallenged, our power absolute. Our culture reached new heights, monuments, temples and wonders unprecedented in scale, complexity and quality were created on our homeworld and the colonies by our forebears. Works of art incomparable to our modern works were created in the imperial palace, and scholars of unprecedented skill and insight graced our nation. It was an age of wonder and growth, and our people prospered," another voice stated passionately. He was the leader of the Revivalist Party, a movement dedicated to restoring the empire to its former glory.
"But now, here we sit, arguing over miniscule problems in a grandiose chamber, while the galaxy is being torn apart by warlords, ambitious merchants, infantile republics and petty kings who claim the galaxy as their own, becoming upstarts and challenging everything that makes us Rethellian!" he said, going to continue his speech before being cut off by the leader of the Traditionalist Party.
"Must we accept the challenge of every lesser creature that claims the galaxy as theirs? Can you not exercise some level of self restraint? If we were to do so we would be stretched so thin that our military couldn't protect our citizens. Instead it would be used to squash every inconsequential race of primitives who think they are masters of the void. Truly the leadership and attitude we need at this point," he sarcastically said.
"The Terran Galactic Empire openly mocks us Rethellians. They call us feeble minded weaklings who were too spineless to survive in the galaxy. They claim that only they are the true masters of the stars and that their military might is the only true power in the cosmos. We are but faded relics and cowards in the eyes of the galaxy. They think us extinct due to our own failings and weakness. We must rectify this. We must restore our image in the galaxy as its rightful ruler and unchallenged power in the cosmos. They hold many worlds in the eastern arms of the galaxy, and move closer to us as we speak. We must strike now to quell the upstarts before they gain too much traction and overwhelm us with sheer numbers," The Revivalist faction leader argued.
A great murmur soon befell the chamber, as both sides discussed these new developments. Fierce arguments sprung up among the minor parties who allied themselves with one of the two major factions that made up the council. Every council member was conflicted by the information that primitives claimed that they were weak. Their pride and honor as Rethellains demanded that they mobilize the military and utterly crush these self styled masters of the void. On the other hand, the recent wave of scholarly thought that emphasised discussion and diplomacy urged them to think nothing of these words, to discard the insults as inconsequential mutterings of primitives that could only hope to be their equals in their wildest dreams. While these discussions were taking place, the emperor, with a face twisted in indignation and anger, rose from his throne. A nearby honor guard called for the chamber to quiet, and soon the council members fell silent. Ilmas slowly walked down from his throne onto the chamber floor, his size and strength intimidated and awed nearby council members and honor guards alike.
"Many times has this discussion been brought to this council chamber. And many times it has never reached a decision. If this council cannot get its act together and start agreeing on legislation, I might have to take a more active role in decisions for the Empire. However, this discussion has gone long enough. If what you say is true, then by my honor, and by the honor of the Rethellian people, we cannot allow this to continue. To be insulted and openly mocked by a lesser is an insult to us as species. We will be a disgrace to all that came before us if we let this go unanswered. It is time for us to reclaim what is rightfully ours. Therefore, I hereby declare that the Rethellian Empire will begin the reactivation of our colonization program, and the restart of our research teams, so that they may benefit the empire," he commanded, his voice echoed with authority and power.
Not a word was said. While the council members were content to argue amongst themselves, comfortable with questioning the ideals of other council members, they dare not question the Emperor. They knew the consequences of such actions, many new and brash council members met their fate questioning the Emperor, they would not follow a similar path.
"I also decree that the shipyards be reactivated and the Rethellian fleet updated with new technology obtained from our research teams, so that our naval might may not be challenged again if a threat were to come to pass. The cloning vats are to be activated, and the production of soldiers to begin anew. A program to genetically enhance volunteer soldiers will be enacted as of today, so as to give us every advantage on the battlefields to come. The time to strike at the upstarts will soon be at hand. I expect everyone to be ready to reclaim the galaxy when that time comes," Ilmas finished, scanning the council members for ones brave or foolish enough to disagree. To his relief, he found none.
The Emperor nodded his head in approval, and turned to retire to his chambers. He had spoken enough for today. The time for talk and debate is over. For his people to return to the splendor and grandeur of his forefather's time, he had a lot of work to do. Now was the time for action. Only time will tell if he will do right by his people. Only time will tell.
YAY, I'm not dead! At least that's the idea anyways. This is a story I had come up with while playing the game Stellaris. And by Terra's non-existent oceans, writer's block has me by the throat, what with college and work. Its been pretty one sided so far. I apologize for making y'all wait so long. I hope y'all forgive me for this transgression.
Ciao