Post by bluesnailok on Mar 6, 2022 18:05:13 GMT
The streets were filled with the cheers of onlookers; the skies filled with confetti and birds released from boxes overhead. But through the raucous of such noise a different noise dominated the sprawl: The crunching of the Nadalese quick march.
In columns of grand greens and reds, dressed in ancient and ceremonial regimental uniforms, each unit came marching down the main boulevard of the capital. Watching it over it all, from the balcony of what had once been the Royal Palace before the Teliran Capitolitists had taken over, stood two dozen proud and decorated officers. None of them stood at the fore more than Supreme Leader Raxis, head of the Capitolite Exiles.
Dressed in the blooming reds and shining yellows of his old Admiral’s uniform, Raxis overlooked the display of thousands upon thousands of Telirans marching by. All of these regiments had existed long before Raxis had even made his way to Natar, and then men that comprised them were not loyal to him, but to the leader’s of the countries that aligned with him and his politics.
Raxis was well aware of this fact. He was a leader without territory of his own; a glorified mediator and uniter of the numerous nationalist and Capitolistic localities that chose to symbolically accept Raxis as their head. The only factions that would follow him unconditionally to the end weren’t the Capitolists, the Telirans who followed Capitol’s ideology and teachings, but the Capitolites, the exiled communities of Capitol monarchists that without a government of their own. But even the ranks of exiles were waning now, age, desertion, assimilation and defection to the Capitol civil war groups now. Those that remained now were predominantly Inarists.
‘A Powerless Dictator’ was what the free press in Kalethia had taken to calling the ‘Xenophobic Aristocrat Raxis’. Some had even taken concern that, in the chaos of the depression, Raxis and his ilk would rally the radicals to his side and incite conflict. Instead, the violence was sparking not from Raxis, but from Kotegaman’s socialists. Raxis and the Capitolitists, in turn, had become viewed as the lesser threat. Most didn’t take Capitolitism to be a danger to Telirankind or Natar. To them, the movement was a little too radical here, and a little too violent there, but perhaps the time for restraint was over.
The Supreme Leader now watched as the regimental coats of the Nadalese Army were replaced by the blocks of a new uniform: Reds, oranges and burgundy. The Capitolitist Paramilitaries. Some groups moved in perfect rhythm, some were moving in a disordered militia display, all proudly marched under a hundred banners of Capitolitist symbolism. The forces were almost entirely Teliran.
Raxis found it peculiar that so many Telirans had, since their poor experiences with the galaxy during their early years, developed a fanatical loyalty to the ‘Capitol Model’. Of course, the element that few liked to discuss was the Grand Empire’s old policies on aliens. Had Capitol encountered Natar so long ago, it would’ve probably conquered and subjugated them. But the Teliran Capitolitists knew this, in fact they embraced it as part of their ideology and motives for their views. The strong dominated, the weak perished. Natar learnt this in the Samser War and against the Hamilian Conflict. Survival did not come from gambling on the beneficence of the neighbour, but upon the assumption of malicious intent.
In turn, this strange movement, that syncretized Inarist thought with their own nationalistic views of nationalism as an ideological, not inherited, status, had given Raxis these masses of followers without him uttering a single word of it. Raxis had become their rolemodel, an idea, and none of it had been crafted by him.
Frankly, the Supreme Leader only had one ideological objective that he had been vocal on: “The Supreme State”. Raxis had long dreamt of his return, each day on Natar chewing on his conscience as his homeland burned; driven into whatever corrupt, perverted ideology prevailed each day. His vision was one of final unity, of achieving the plans of his Empress, of keeping his pledges to protect Capitol in its entirety, to redeem his honour. He would have order, militarism and tradition, but there would also be autonomy, flexibility, an immovable justice system and a constitution of enshrined rights. Capitol wasn’t a birthright, it was an idea. If the Telirans could become so fanatically loyal to it then so could any subject.
But first, this planet would need to be won. He would need to solidify his power into real, practical authority if he was to organise an expedition to reclaim Capitol. With any luck, the Teliran factions, by they socialists or militarists, monarchists of republicans, would collapse into war. With the collapse of order, Raxis and his ally, Ketha, could justify their reclamation of an ‘Emergency Interstate Order’. In turn, conflict would drive forces into centralisation and, with it, Raxis could direct his new military to destroy his enemies but on Natar and Capitol, he would reclaim territories lost to the victors of the 2nd Galactic War, and promise the people more than that: Hope.
There was spirit in the old admiral yet.
In columns of grand greens and reds, dressed in ancient and ceremonial regimental uniforms, each unit came marching down the main boulevard of the capital. Watching it over it all, from the balcony of what had once been the Royal Palace before the Teliran Capitolitists had taken over, stood two dozen proud and decorated officers. None of them stood at the fore more than Supreme Leader Raxis, head of the Capitolite Exiles.
Dressed in the blooming reds and shining yellows of his old Admiral’s uniform, Raxis overlooked the display of thousands upon thousands of Telirans marching by. All of these regiments had existed long before Raxis had even made his way to Natar, and then men that comprised them were not loyal to him, but to the leader’s of the countries that aligned with him and his politics.
Raxis was well aware of this fact. He was a leader without territory of his own; a glorified mediator and uniter of the numerous nationalist and Capitolistic localities that chose to symbolically accept Raxis as their head. The only factions that would follow him unconditionally to the end weren’t the Capitolists, the Telirans who followed Capitol’s ideology and teachings, but the Capitolites, the exiled communities of Capitol monarchists that without a government of their own. But even the ranks of exiles were waning now, age, desertion, assimilation and defection to the Capitol civil war groups now. Those that remained now were predominantly Inarists.
‘A Powerless Dictator’ was what the free press in Kalethia had taken to calling the ‘Xenophobic Aristocrat Raxis’. Some had even taken concern that, in the chaos of the depression, Raxis and his ilk would rally the radicals to his side and incite conflict. Instead, the violence was sparking not from Raxis, but from Kotegaman’s socialists. Raxis and the Capitolitists, in turn, had become viewed as the lesser threat. Most didn’t take Capitolitism to be a danger to Telirankind or Natar. To them, the movement was a little too radical here, and a little too violent there, but perhaps the time for restraint was over.
The Supreme Leader now watched as the regimental coats of the Nadalese Army were replaced by the blocks of a new uniform: Reds, oranges and burgundy. The Capitolitist Paramilitaries. Some groups moved in perfect rhythm, some were moving in a disordered militia display, all proudly marched under a hundred banners of Capitolitist symbolism. The forces were almost entirely Teliran.
Raxis found it peculiar that so many Telirans had, since their poor experiences with the galaxy during their early years, developed a fanatical loyalty to the ‘Capitol Model’. Of course, the element that few liked to discuss was the Grand Empire’s old policies on aliens. Had Capitol encountered Natar so long ago, it would’ve probably conquered and subjugated them. But the Teliran Capitolitists knew this, in fact they embraced it as part of their ideology and motives for their views. The strong dominated, the weak perished. Natar learnt this in the Samser War and against the Hamilian Conflict. Survival did not come from gambling on the beneficence of the neighbour, but upon the assumption of malicious intent.
In turn, this strange movement, that syncretized Inarist thought with their own nationalistic views of nationalism as an ideological, not inherited, status, had given Raxis these masses of followers without him uttering a single word of it. Raxis had become their rolemodel, an idea, and none of it had been crafted by him.
Frankly, the Supreme Leader only had one ideological objective that he had been vocal on: “The Supreme State”. Raxis had long dreamt of his return, each day on Natar chewing on his conscience as his homeland burned; driven into whatever corrupt, perverted ideology prevailed each day. His vision was one of final unity, of achieving the plans of his Empress, of keeping his pledges to protect Capitol in its entirety, to redeem his honour. He would have order, militarism and tradition, but there would also be autonomy, flexibility, an immovable justice system and a constitution of enshrined rights. Capitol wasn’t a birthright, it was an idea. If the Telirans could become so fanatically loyal to it then so could any subject.
But first, this planet would need to be won. He would need to solidify his power into real, practical authority if he was to organise an expedition to reclaim Capitol. With any luck, the Teliran factions, by they socialists or militarists, monarchists of republicans, would collapse into war. With the collapse of order, Raxis and his ally, Ketha, could justify their reclamation of an ‘Emergency Interstate Order’. In turn, conflict would drive forces into centralisation and, with it, Raxis could direct his new military to destroy his enemies but on Natar and Capitol, he would reclaim territories lost to the victors of the 2nd Galactic War, and promise the people more than that: Hope.
There was spirit in the old admiral yet.