The Romulan State
02-10-2005, 23:12
http://www.memory-alpha.org/en/images/6/68/Nemesis8.jpg
Imperial Romulan Senate
Romi Superior
Planet Romulus
Capital Planet of the Empire of The Romulan State
The lavishly decorated interior of the Romulan Senate was something to be awed. High quality gold, silver and platinum decorations adorned every wall, every door and ceiling. Solid gold statues lined with rubies, emeralds and other precious gemstones stood at each doorway in company with the armed guards, all in ceremonial grey uniform with helmet and sash. Senators and their aides strolled the marble halls of this building in rich blue robes of state, each a personification of political power. This was a testament to the wealth of an Empire that had pursued decades of periodic isolation from the outside galaxy. An Empire that was about to spread its wings and soar to the skies like the ceremonial eagle that symbolised the nation.
“The Praetor recognises the Senator from Brutii Province.”
The Inner Chamber fell silent as the assembled Senators turned expectantly to the central floor. The room was a large circular shape, with seats extending back in rows around the outer edge, the rear set slightly elevated to the row in front. One part of the circumference merely contained one row of seats set at ground level, where the Praetor and co-Praetor of the Romulan State resided. The central space was used for the debates of the Senate.
Senator Chixon was an ageing politician, 254 years of age. He had served the Senate for most of the last century and a half, and was expected to retire soon. A radical in his younger years, the Senator was now regarded more with sympathy than respect by the other Senators, as the ravages of age had brought partial madness to his mind. Senators however could not be replaced until they died, so Chixon was there to stay.
The old Romulan rose unsteadily from his seat on the third row, balancing himself by leaning against his walking stick. He took a moment to reach the floor with his ponderous sloping walk, and paused in the centre of the room. He looked around the room with his steel grey eyes and observed each Senator individually, stopping finally to rest his eyes on the Praetor.
“Most Revered Praetor,” he began. “Honourable Senators, esteemed servants of the Romulan Empire, I greet you.”
He paused as if collecting his thoughts. The Senators waited patiently. Praetor Chanon smiled a little. The head of the Empire was 130 years younger than Chixon, a political upstart that had risen quickly to become Praetor through the usual means – cunning, manipulation and ruthlessness. He had respect for Chixon as a long-serving Senator, but regarded him as being an old fool for not being politically adept.
Chixon continued after a moment. “The Romulan State has stood for a thousand years since the Great War that destroyed our population. Only now has our nation grown to a state that has created an Empire worthy of ruling this world.”
He paused again, looking around the room once more. “The Empire must expand,” he added in a firm tone. “I have always been vocal in this belief. The Empire must grow to new heights and lengths, increase in prosperity and power, and enlarge its resources and influence.”
“In three days time,” Chixon continued, pacing the floor in his ponderous way. “I will be retiring from my position as Senator for the Brutii Province. In my many years as a Senator in this august chamber, I have always attempted to uphold those beliefs by promoting the development of a Romulan Space Program.”
There was a slight groan from the assembled Senators. Chanon smiled a little again; this had been raised many times and voted down – the official reason being that the Empire did not have the resources. It mostly did not, but the real political reason was that the Praetor had been a vocal nationalist, elected to his lifelong position on the back of a promise to keep Romulus pure from outside interference.
Chixon ignored the groan, and continued. “This chamber has always voted down my proposals, a move that I find most unusual giving the benefits it would bring.” He paused and looked at the Praetor, who met his gaze with his own red eyes.
Chixon smiled. “I thereby decree, as my right as a retiring Senator, that my proposal becomes my Dalfiar.”
The Chamber went into uproar. Senators jumped to their feet shouting. Chanon’s smile vanished. Chixon met the Praetor’s gaze again and allowed his weary face to smile in triumph. Dalfiar was a Romulan Senator’s prerogative that his final wish as a Senator became law within the Romulan State, within certain constraints of the law so that a retiring person could not, for example, create an act of genocide or declaration of war. A Space Program however would not be against this law, and Chanon seethed in fury that he had been beaten.
The Praetor leant forward and placed his palm on a desktop panel, causing a chime to sound throughout the chamber calling for order. The room settled after a moment. Chanon leant forward and spoke calmly.
“Senator Chixon, it is with deep regret of this chamber that we recognise your right to declare this your Dalfiar. However, we wish to urge you to reconsider, as is your right, seeing as this…idea is so preposterous that it would merely take up resources.”
The Praetor leant back. “Our leading scientists have constantly inferred that there is no other life in the galaxy say for our own, the Romulan race being that of the highest superiority in intelligence and physical strength. I personally believe such a program would therefore be useless in the current galactic timeframe.”
Chixon looked across at the Praetor. Young eyes met old. Chixon smiled once more and spoke for the last time in the Inner Chamber of the Imperial Romulan Senate.
“Praetor, my decision stands.”
The Romulan Space Program was established.
(OOC: To be Continued)
Imperial Romulan Senate
Romi Superior
Planet Romulus
Capital Planet of the Empire of The Romulan State
The lavishly decorated interior of the Romulan Senate was something to be awed. High quality gold, silver and platinum decorations adorned every wall, every door and ceiling. Solid gold statues lined with rubies, emeralds and other precious gemstones stood at each doorway in company with the armed guards, all in ceremonial grey uniform with helmet and sash. Senators and their aides strolled the marble halls of this building in rich blue robes of state, each a personification of political power. This was a testament to the wealth of an Empire that had pursued decades of periodic isolation from the outside galaxy. An Empire that was about to spread its wings and soar to the skies like the ceremonial eagle that symbolised the nation.
“The Praetor recognises the Senator from Brutii Province.”
The Inner Chamber fell silent as the assembled Senators turned expectantly to the central floor. The room was a large circular shape, with seats extending back in rows around the outer edge, the rear set slightly elevated to the row in front. One part of the circumference merely contained one row of seats set at ground level, where the Praetor and co-Praetor of the Romulan State resided. The central space was used for the debates of the Senate.
Senator Chixon was an ageing politician, 254 years of age. He had served the Senate for most of the last century and a half, and was expected to retire soon. A radical in his younger years, the Senator was now regarded more with sympathy than respect by the other Senators, as the ravages of age had brought partial madness to his mind. Senators however could not be replaced until they died, so Chixon was there to stay.
The old Romulan rose unsteadily from his seat on the third row, balancing himself by leaning against his walking stick. He took a moment to reach the floor with his ponderous sloping walk, and paused in the centre of the room. He looked around the room with his steel grey eyes and observed each Senator individually, stopping finally to rest his eyes on the Praetor.
“Most Revered Praetor,” he began. “Honourable Senators, esteemed servants of the Romulan Empire, I greet you.”
He paused as if collecting his thoughts. The Senators waited patiently. Praetor Chanon smiled a little. The head of the Empire was 130 years younger than Chixon, a political upstart that had risen quickly to become Praetor through the usual means – cunning, manipulation and ruthlessness. He had respect for Chixon as a long-serving Senator, but regarded him as being an old fool for not being politically adept.
Chixon continued after a moment. “The Romulan State has stood for a thousand years since the Great War that destroyed our population. Only now has our nation grown to a state that has created an Empire worthy of ruling this world.”
He paused again, looking around the room once more. “The Empire must expand,” he added in a firm tone. “I have always been vocal in this belief. The Empire must grow to new heights and lengths, increase in prosperity and power, and enlarge its resources and influence.”
“In three days time,” Chixon continued, pacing the floor in his ponderous way. “I will be retiring from my position as Senator for the Brutii Province. In my many years as a Senator in this august chamber, I have always attempted to uphold those beliefs by promoting the development of a Romulan Space Program.”
There was a slight groan from the assembled Senators. Chanon smiled a little again; this had been raised many times and voted down – the official reason being that the Empire did not have the resources. It mostly did not, but the real political reason was that the Praetor had been a vocal nationalist, elected to his lifelong position on the back of a promise to keep Romulus pure from outside interference.
Chixon ignored the groan, and continued. “This chamber has always voted down my proposals, a move that I find most unusual giving the benefits it would bring.” He paused and looked at the Praetor, who met his gaze with his own red eyes.
Chixon smiled. “I thereby decree, as my right as a retiring Senator, that my proposal becomes my Dalfiar.”
The Chamber went into uproar. Senators jumped to their feet shouting. Chanon’s smile vanished. Chixon met the Praetor’s gaze again and allowed his weary face to smile in triumph. Dalfiar was a Romulan Senator’s prerogative that his final wish as a Senator became law within the Romulan State, within certain constraints of the law so that a retiring person could not, for example, create an act of genocide or declaration of war. A Space Program however would not be against this law, and Chanon seethed in fury that he had been beaten.
The Praetor leant forward and placed his palm on a desktop panel, causing a chime to sound throughout the chamber calling for order. The room settled after a moment. Chanon leant forward and spoke calmly.
“Senator Chixon, it is with deep regret of this chamber that we recognise your right to declare this your Dalfiar. However, we wish to urge you to reconsider, as is your right, seeing as this…idea is so preposterous that it would merely take up resources.”
The Praetor leant back. “Our leading scientists have constantly inferred that there is no other life in the galaxy say for our own, the Romulan race being that of the highest superiority in intelligence and physical strength. I personally believe such a program would therefore be useless in the current galactic timeframe.”
Chixon looked across at the Praetor. Young eyes met old. Chixon smiled once more and spoke for the last time in the Inner Chamber of the Imperial Romulan Senate.
“Praetor, my decision stands.”
The Romulan Space Program was established.
(OOC: To be Continued)