Post by bluesnailok on Mar 6, 2022 17:38:37 GMT
The screen flickered in the otherwise pitch black room. It was midnight and, with no other buildings nearby in these depths of the country, and with no lights on in this Teliran household, this television in this one room was the only source of light in a sea of pure dark for miles.
“Reports across the planet are revealing record levels of violence that the world hasn’t experienced since the days of the 8th Great War. Only minutes ago, news from Port Sabar has confirmed the complete collapse of the government in Des-Van and the abdication of its Populist King amidst calls for what protesters are calling a ‘Social Republic’. Within just two days of the infamous Declaration of the 12th, 5 nations have collapsed into states of civil war, 4 states are reporting the termination of truces with long-running rebel groups, and 10 governments have seen resignations of either ministers, or entire administrations.”
The reporter was interrupted by several bangs from the crowds behind him, matched by flashes of smoke and sparks. The newsman flinched, but quickly returned to his frantic report,
“International Watchdogs are calling this “The Strife”: Years of perceived injustice, the Jobedeia Market Crash, Stadtholder’s Tetlisun decision to not initiate elections on traditional schedule in light of the economic paralysis, and the Declaration of the 12th by Chairman Kotegaman, have come together to trigger a snowballing effect of social disobedience and subversion. Already dozens of national governments, struggling to cope with the results of current international policy and the effects of Tetlisun’s leadership, are calling for a vote of deposition against the Stadtholder, just like Tetlisun called against his predecessor, if he does concede that his time is over.”
Inside the manor’s ancient room, from across a long, varnished dining table, sat alone and in silence, Maisinara watched. Tetlisun’s intransigence was failing him. The Immovable Peasant-Stadtholder’s own praised stubbornness had become his undoing. A refusal to concede, to compromise on his political principles to cater to the whims of the public, and to only look to the long-term, had brought this planet to the brink of anarchy.
Maisinara had always expected this, of course. In 60 AME, amidst the chaos of the Human attack on Natar, the unimportant ‘Director Mose Tetlisun for the Aphanesia Monitoring Station’ had orchestrated his own vote of deposition against the leader of the ASN at the time. The man that Tetlisun had deposed was Maisinara’s grandfather: Massiney Thalerno. Thalerno had served as Administrator for the ASN for over a decade, dutifully and honorably. But Tetlisun cared little about that, Tetlisun had little honour, little duty, just objectives and targets.
Tetlisun’s Coup broke Massiney, and Maisinara watched as her grandfather faded out of politics, a defeated and depressed old man, resigned to gardening and tending to his orchards. But through it, now, Maisinara had taken the place of her forebear. She would not stand by and watch as the Thalerno Camp was trampled to the dust under Tetlisun’s endless march towards economic advancement at any price.
Over the years, the young noblewoman had revitalized the cause of the opposition. She had championed the Thalerno cause: Caution and dignity, integrity and responsibility, cooperation over competition, community over individualism, tradition over pragmatism. Now, her chance had finally come. Many had insisted she take a more active challenge to Tetlisun over the years. The Stadtholder had, of course, made many attempts to intimidate, silence or oust Maisinara like he had so many others. But Maisinara was one of the few members of an exclusive club: The capable few who could contend and stay ahead of Tetlisun’s political maneuvers and covert attacks.
Maisinara had always kept Tetlisun’s capacity to resort to anything to get his way in mind; over the years she learnt and comprehended his dedication, his mindset. From this understanding, she learnt not to block the Stadtholder’s plans, lest she become a necessity for the Peasant-Stadtholder to remove by any means. Where others misjudged or impetuously doomed themselves, Maisinara patiently restrained herself, convinced that her time would come.
Now it had. Tetlisun’s power was doomed without Maisinara having to take an ounce of aggressive initiative; all she had to do was survive and wait. After so long, Tetlisun’s focus on market liberalism, on pursuits of hedonism and self-interest, on pragmatic materialism over ideology and loyalty had now all coalesced into their largest manifested flaws. Tetlisun had failed.
When he had come to power and began his subtle bullying of his rivals, he was the head of a faceless international organisation that nobody really knew nor cared about. But through his own actions, his own centralisation of power and influence, Tetlisun had turned public attention to the high politics which he orchestrated. But the Teliran had never adapted to this change of his own doing. Until this very year, he had continued to use illegal tactics, manhandling, and trasformismo to get his way, ignorant of the effects of public opinion with this increasingly aware ‘international public’ he had created.
Now was the time for the Thalerno resumption. Tetlisun’s government, its economic instability, its dogged refusal to organise the economy in its instability, its unpopularity for its criminality and lack of ideological clarity, had brewed a boiling pot of planetary anger on the verge of boiling over. Every moderate now understood now was the time for change. Whether they be capitalist, interventionist, social-democratic, traditionalist, none of that mattered now, what mattered was that a powerful moderate should be given the helm willing to reform, assert authority and concede to public demands to avert a complete collapse of order across the planet. Maisinara was that moderate.
She and her camp had already made their first moves. Her faction in the Executive Assembly had already begun publicly denouncing Tetlisun’s inactions and began demanding Tetlisun step down. She had begun to promote her strategy for dealing with the current crisis: Centralisation of certain economic powers under central, international authority, enforcement of international political reforms such as the annexation of foreign legations, as well as the abolition of privileges granted to foreign races to incentivize investment and trade preference, international employment mandates would be instituted and foreign competition would be reduced through protectionism.
“...We are now just receiving word from the Association Assembly in Talcit that the Stadtholder has just agreed to officially begin voting for a new Stadtholder. We can now confirm that Mose Tetlisun, the 1st Stadtholder of the Associated States of Natar, is conceding to the election of a new Stadtholder. Candidates are already being proposed by assembly memberships, but blocs are already solidifying around a select number of…” Maisinara smiled as she rose from the table in the darkness, with a flick of a remote she was plunged into the black of the Teliran night. It was time for the Thalerno’s to save Natar.
“Reports across the planet are revealing record levels of violence that the world hasn’t experienced since the days of the 8th Great War. Only minutes ago, news from Port Sabar has confirmed the complete collapse of the government in Des-Van and the abdication of its Populist King amidst calls for what protesters are calling a ‘Social Republic’. Within just two days of the infamous Declaration of the 12th, 5 nations have collapsed into states of civil war, 4 states are reporting the termination of truces with long-running rebel groups, and 10 governments have seen resignations of either ministers, or entire administrations.”
The reporter was interrupted by several bangs from the crowds behind him, matched by flashes of smoke and sparks. The newsman flinched, but quickly returned to his frantic report,
“International Watchdogs are calling this “The Strife”: Years of perceived injustice, the Jobedeia Market Crash, Stadtholder’s Tetlisun decision to not initiate elections on traditional schedule in light of the economic paralysis, and the Declaration of the 12th by Chairman Kotegaman, have come together to trigger a snowballing effect of social disobedience and subversion. Already dozens of national governments, struggling to cope with the results of current international policy and the effects of Tetlisun’s leadership, are calling for a vote of deposition against the Stadtholder, just like Tetlisun called against his predecessor, if he does concede that his time is over.”
Inside the manor’s ancient room, from across a long, varnished dining table, sat alone and in silence, Maisinara watched. Tetlisun’s intransigence was failing him. The Immovable Peasant-Stadtholder’s own praised stubbornness had become his undoing. A refusal to concede, to compromise on his political principles to cater to the whims of the public, and to only look to the long-term, had brought this planet to the brink of anarchy.
Maisinara had always expected this, of course. In 60 AME, amidst the chaos of the Human attack on Natar, the unimportant ‘Director Mose Tetlisun for the Aphanesia Monitoring Station’ had orchestrated his own vote of deposition against the leader of the ASN at the time. The man that Tetlisun had deposed was Maisinara’s grandfather: Massiney Thalerno. Thalerno had served as Administrator for the ASN for over a decade, dutifully and honorably. But Tetlisun cared little about that, Tetlisun had little honour, little duty, just objectives and targets.
Tetlisun’s Coup broke Massiney, and Maisinara watched as her grandfather faded out of politics, a defeated and depressed old man, resigned to gardening and tending to his orchards. But through it, now, Maisinara had taken the place of her forebear. She would not stand by and watch as the Thalerno Camp was trampled to the dust under Tetlisun’s endless march towards economic advancement at any price.
Over the years, the young noblewoman had revitalized the cause of the opposition. She had championed the Thalerno cause: Caution and dignity, integrity and responsibility, cooperation over competition, community over individualism, tradition over pragmatism. Now, her chance had finally come. Many had insisted she take a more active challenge to Tetlisun over the years. The Stadtholder had, of course, made many attempts to intimidate, silence or oust Maisinara like he had so many others. But Maisinara was one of the few members of an exclusive club: The capable few who could contend and stay ahead of Tetlisun’s political maneuvers and covert attacks.
Maisinara had always kept Tetlisun’s capacity to resort to anything to get his way in mind; over the years she learnt and comprehended his dedication, his mindset. From this understanding, she learnt not to block the Stadtholder’s plans, lest she become a necessity for the Peasant-Stadtholder to remove by any means. Where others misjudged or impetuously doomed themselves, Maisinara patiently restrained herself, convinced that her time would come.
Now it had. Tetlisun’s power was doomed without Maisinara having to take an ounce of aggressive initiative; all she had to do was survive and wait. After so long, Tetlisun’s focus on market liberalism, on pursuits of hedonism and self-interest, on pragmatic materialism over ideology and loyalty had now all coalesced into their largest manifested flaws. Tetlisun had failed.
When he had come to power and began his subtle bullying of his rivals, he was the head of a faceless international organisation that nobody really knew nor cared about. But through his own actions, his own centralisation of power and influence, Tetlisun had turned public attention to the high politics which he orchestrated. But the Teliran had never adapted to this change of his own doing. Until this very year, he had continued to use illegal tactics, manhandling, and trasformismo to get his way, ignorant of the effects of public opinion with this increasingly aware ‘international public’ he had created.
Now was the time for the Thalerno resumption. Tetlisun’s government, its economic instability, its dogged refusal to organise the economy in its instability, its unpopularity for its criminality and lack of ideological clarity, had brewed a boiling pot of planetary anger on the verge of boiling over. Every moderate now understood now was the time for change. Whether they be capitalist, interventionist, social-democratic, traditionalist, none of that mattered now, what mattered was that a powerful moderate should be given the helm willing to reform, assert authority and concede to public demands to avert a complete collapse of order across the planet. Maisinara was that moderate.
She and her camp had already made their first moves. Her faction in the Executive Assembly had already begun publicly denouncing Tetlisun’s inactions and began demanding Tetlisun step down. She had begun to promote her strategy for dealing with the current crisis: Centralisation of certain economic powers under central, international authority, enforcement of international political reforms such as the annexation of foreign legations, as well as the abolition of privileges granted to foreign races to incentivize investment and trade preference, international employment mandates would be instituted and foreign competition would be reduced through protectionism.
“...We are now just receiving word from the Association Assembly in Talcit that the Stadtholder has just agreed to officially begin voting for a new Stadtholder. We can now confirm that Mose Tetlisun, the 1st Stadtholder of the Associated States of Natar, is conceding to the election of a new Stadtholder. Candidates are already being proposed by assembly memberships, but blocs are already solidifying around a select number of…” Maisinara smiled as she rose from the table in the darkness, with a flick of a remote she was plunged into the black of the Teliran night. It was time for the Thalerno’s to save Natar.