Telan Desaria
Oct 10th, 2008, 02:11:12 PM
It was said once that chaos breeds order. To many, this very idea was anathema to a lifetime spent fighting for one ideology or another. The thought that one could not survive without the was was repugnant. Vehemency let such strength to the outcry that many refused to believe it, blinded by their own dedication.
The reality however, was not bound by fanaticism. The facts spelled themselves out in unmistakable - and unpallatable - clarity. Chaos survived amid raging fears that the pursuit of order would be taken to the extreme and all freedom would be lost, giving rise to the belief that no rule was better than bad rule. Then, however, a few would be wronged by this system of anarchy, and they band together and defy the lunacy of no government. They would fight and expand, by force more than diplomacy, to calm the night and allow all to sleep in peace. Fear of chaos would drive these men mad and their motives would be its total annihilation. But, as with all things, the mission would eventually be accomplished. Chaos would then be seen in the shadows, even when it was not there. And the people would rebel and throw off the yoke of their masters and call for less and less government until....
...the cycle would complete itself. Such a horrifying pattern had repeated itself time and again in the history of galactic events; so much blood had been spilled, so many billions fallen. Could it be stopped?
Perhaps.
Should it be stopped? Ah - that was the question, indeed. Should called into question belief, and by default the fanatical leanings of the only men whose answer mattered.
So, sitting on his perch and lording over two hundred thousand men trapped in the armored walls of a titannic command ship, and so many more thousands in the other, smaller walls of the ships nearby, one man answered as a spokesman for the rest: Never.
So it was...and so would it be. The cycle would continue. Anarchy had fallen to the forces of Order and now....Order would assert itself against those final bastions of chaos.
With a flash of pseudo-motion, the Imperial Fleet did puncture the vile isolation of Hutt Space. Pestilential filth abounded from starbase to starship to the ferrocrete caverns of delapidated cities below. Grand Admiral Desaria had brought the Empire's Will to Nar Shadda. Order would be ushered in with the stomp of the jackboot and the point of the bayonet. There would be but two options for those that looked on...
Order....
....or death.
The reality however, was not bound by fanaticism. The facts spelled themselves out in unmistakable - and unpallatable - clarity. Chaos survived amid raging fears that the pursuit of order would be taken to the extreme and all freedom would be lost, giving rise to the belief that no rule was better than bad rule. Then, however, a few would be wronged by this system of anarchy, and they band together and defy the lunacy of no government. They would fight and expand, by force more than diplomacy, to calm the night and allow all to sleep in peace. Fear of chaos would drive these men mad and their motives would be its total annihilation. But, as with all things, the mission would eventually be accomplished. Chaos would then be seen in the shadows, even when it was not there. And the people would rebel and throw off the yoke of their masters and call for less and less government until....
...the cycle would complete itself. Such a horrifying pattern had repeated itself time and again in the history of galactic events; so much blood had been spilled, so many billions fallen. Could it be stopped?
Perhaps.
Should it be stopped? Ah - that was the question, indeed. Should called into question belief, and by default the fanatical leanings of the only men whose answer mattered.
So, sitting on his perch and lording over two hundred thousand men trapped in the armored walls of a titannic command ship, and so many more thousands in the other, smaller walls of the ships nearby, one man answered as a spokesman for the rest: Never.
So it was...and so would it be. The cycle would continue. Anarchy had fallen to the forces of Order and now....Order would assert itself against those final bastions of chaos.
With a flash of pseudo-motion, the Imperial Fleet did puncture the vile isolation of Hutt Space. Pestilential filth abounded from starbase to starship to the ferrocrete caverns of delapidated cities below. Grand Admiral Desaria had brought the Empire's Will to Nar Shadda. Order would be ushered in with the stomp of the jackboot and the point of the bayonet. There would be but two options for those that looked on...
Order....
....or death.