01-23-2021, 09:01 AM
Chuaztlapoc
“You cannot be serious,” Huacue snapped.
The Necatli tlatoani looked at everyone in the room as if they were insane. “You’re proposing that we share our power with some raucous body of elected rabble?”
Sitting in front of the Huenyan Assembly, Vice-Speaker Tiacihitli sighed. “It’s not really a proposal. The people are demanding this. The Acalan Manifesto is not some minor wishlist proposed by activists. The people are rallying behind it. They want my position to be elected - a shock to me as well, I can assure you - and they want an elected legislative body to serve as a counterpart to the throne and to this Assembly. They want the Vice-Speaker position to be head of government, and for a combined legislature to ensure that the people’s will is respected. And I think I should be clear about this - in increasing numbers, tlatoani Huacue, they are not asking for these reforms.”
“The tlatoani have always led their respective peoples, with one serving as first among leaders. That has always been our way, even under Xiomeran control,” Huacue said. “I will not give up my birthright, nor will I completely shred our traditional ways.”
“Nor will I,” Cusuyo, the Tepiltzin tlatoani, grumbled. “I have only just regained true freedom to rule for my people. Giving that up at the behest of some crazy reformists is absurd.”
“I also find these reforms a bit....questionable,” High Priest Tlocuauhtoa murmured. The leader of the Huenyan indigenous religion (outside of Xiomera, at least) steepled his fingers as he looked at the others. “It has always been our way that those graced by the sun shall lead.”
“There is nothing absurd or questionable about this,” Texōccoatl replied. “In fact, I think it is an excellent suggestion. Our purpose in creating this new nation was to bring about change, wasn’t it? Opening up a path to true democracy is the greatest change we can bring.”
“Yes, and you’re undoubtedly ready to agree to it because it changes nothing for you,” Huacue replied irritably. “With this new elected legislature they’re demanding, the other tlatoani are the ones whose power is diminished. Neither you, nor your mother, lose any power at all!”
“Not true,” Yauhmi said calmly. “Not if we go all the way, and also make the Vice-Speaker position head of government, as this manifesto is also demanding. I would be sharing power with the Vice-Speaker, at that point.”
“You can’t really be in favor of this, then,” Cusuyo said in alarm. “If this Acalan Manifesto becomes a reality, even you will be reduced to a figurehead. That is a complete break from tradition - and it makes a mockery of all you suffered and gave up to get to this point, if your crown is just a symbol.”
Yauhmi smiled, with a slightly sad tinge to it. “What did my power accomplish? Where did it get me? Where did it get us?”
“It got us to this point now, where we are free and have a chance to rule ourselves. That counts for something,” Huacue replied.
“Yes, but only at the cost of nearly destroying ourselves. Zapotlán lies in ruins. Huenya itself has been pillaged, punishment for daring to seek its freedom. Families are split apart - our homeland is split apart. And so many have lost their lives. That’s what my power brought us. If there had been some restraints on my power, when this all began - if I had been forced to listen to those who warned me that I was moving too fast to change things, too sure of myself in my pride and arrogance, thinking that I always knew best - what could the outcome have been?”
Huacue and the other tlatoani sat silent as Yauhmi continued. “While I cannot, and will never, regret that Huenya is now free, the path we took to get here has taught me one thing - people in power need restraints on that power. They need boundaries. And most of all, they need for someone to be able to tell them no even when they don’t want to hear it, or to tell them you’re wrong when they can’t believe it. That, ultimately, is what democracy does. I used to think that democracy was wrong-headed, that it gave power over to the mob. You know who still thinks that? Calhualyana.” Yauhmi sighed. “We have to take steps to make sure we don’t just become tyrants under a different flag.”
“We do not need this wholesale change to prevent that though! We do not intend to be tyrants,” Huacue shouted.
“Most tyrants don’t - when they start. But they convince themselves that they’re the only ones who can be trusted to lead.” Sirua, the leader of the Itotemoc, shook her head. “If we don’t trust our people to lead with us, sooner or later, we won’t be their liberators - we will merely be their overlords. And what would our sacrifices have all been for then, in the end?”
“I would also point out one thing,” Texōccoatl said. “As the good Vice-Speaker points out, even if we don’t want to make these changes - and I, personally, do - it would be foolish to resist them. The emergence of Huenya has awoken something in its people. They want freedom, and a voice. They will not accept tyrants anymore, even well-intended ones. I, for one, have no desire to become the peoples’ enemy. That never ends well. Ask Xochiuhue.”
Cusuyo and Huacue looked at each other. “How would this legislature share power between us and the elected side, then?” Huacue said finally, in a resigned voice.
As the discussion continued, Vice-Speaker Tiacihitli smiled. We may end up doing this right and not having yet another revolt after all.
—-
Huenyan countryside
Border between Necatli and Itotemoc regions
“You’ve secured the facility. Are the weapons still in place?” Defense Secretary Tlanexchel, from his temporary base in Zapotlán, looked at the screen in stunned amazement.
“Yes, sir,” the Military Intelligence sergeant of the Huenyan Army commanding the detachment said on the other end of the video call. “It looks like they tried to get them out of the base during the withdrawal, but failed to complete their mission before this area fell to our forces, and the Imperial forces fled while they could.”
Tlanexchel whistled. “Happy birthday to me,” he murmured, his eyes glinting as the camera panned around to show exactly what the Xiomeran Imperial Army had left behind as they had abandoned their former base.
“Indeed, sir,” the sergeant said happily. “We also just got check-ins from other units - it looks like this is just one of four bases like it that had their ‘presents’ left behind.”
“Keep this under wraps for now,” Tlanexchel ordered. The MI sergeant nodded, terminating the call. Do I have something to tell the Assembly. Calhualyana, you may want to think twice about threatening the Federation again, Tlanexchel thought.
At his location, the MI sergeant swiftly barked at his detachment to make sure the perimeter was secure. As he walked through the front gate, the sun glinted off the sign mounted next to it:
Ultimchec Base
Xiomeran Imperial Armed Forces
Imperial Strategic Defense Corps
“You cannot be serious,” Huacue snapped.
The Necatli tlatoani looked at everyone in the room as if they were insane. “You’re proposing that we share our power with some raucous body of elected rabble?”
Sitting in front of the Huenyan Assembly, Vice-Speaker Tiacihitli sighed. “It’s not really a proposal. The people are demanding this. The Acalan Manifesto is not some minor wishlist proposed by activists. The people are rallying behind it. They want my position to be elected - a shock to me as well, I can assure you - and they want an elected legislative body to serve as a counterpart to the throne and to this Assembly. They want the Vice-Speaker position to be head of government, and for a combined legislature to ensure that the people’s will is respected. And I think I should be clear about this - in increasing numbers, tlatoani Huacue, they are not asking for these reforms.”
“The tlatoani have always led their respective peoples, with one serving as first among leaders. That has always been our way, even under Xiomeran control,” Huacue said. “I will not give up my birthright, nor will I completely shred our traditional ways.”
“Nor will I,” Cusuyo, the Tepiltzin tlatoani, grumbled. “I have only just regained true freedom to rule for my people. Giving that up at the behest of some crazy reformists is absurd.”
“I also find these reforms a bit....questionable,” High Priest Tlocuauhtoa murmured. The leader of the Huenyan indigenous religion (outside of Xiomera, at least) steepled his fingers as he looked at the others. “It has always been our way that those graced by the sun shall lead.”
“There is nothing absurd or questionable about this,” Texōccoatl replied. “In fact, I think it is an excellent suggestion. Our purpose in creating this new nation was to bring about change, wasn’t it? Opening up a path to true democracy is the greatest change we can bring.”
“Yes, and you’re undoubtedly ready to agree to it because it changes nothing for you,” Huacue replied irritably. “With this new elected legislature they’re demanding, the other tlatoani are the ones whose power is diminished. Neither you, nor your mother, lose any power at all!”
“Not true,” Yauhmi said calmly. “Not if we go all the way, and also make the Vice-Speaker position head of government, as this manifesto is also demanding. I would be sharing power with the Vice-Speaker, at that point.”
“You can’t really be in favor of this, then,” Cusuyo said in alarm. “If this Acalan Manifesto becomes a reality, even you will be reduced to a figurehead. That is a complete break from tradition - and it makes a mockery of all you suffered and gave up to get to this point, if your crown is just a symbol.”
Yauhmi smiled, with a slightly sad tinge to it. “What did my power accomplish? Where did it get me? Where did it get us?”
“It got us to this point now, where we are free and have a chance to rule ourselves. That counts for something,” Huacue replied.
“Yes, but only at the cost of nearly destroying ourselves. Zapotlán lies in ruins. Huenya itself has been pillaged, punishment for daring to seek its freedom. Families are split apart - our homeland is split apart. And so many have lost their lives. That’s what my power brought us. If there had been some restraints on my power, when this all began - if I had been forced to listen to those who warned me that I was moving too fast to change things, too sure of myself in my pride and arrogance, thinking that I always knew best - what could the outcome have been?”
Huacue and the other tlatoani sat silent as Yauhmi continued. “While I cannot, and will never, regret that Huenya is now free, the path we took to get here has taught me one thing - people in power need restraints on that power. They need boundaries. And most of all, they need for someone to be able to tell them no even when they don’t want to hear it, or to tell them you’re wrong when they can’t believe it. That, ultimately, is what democracy does. I used to think that democracy was wrong-headed, that it gave power over to the mob. You know who still thinks that? Calhualyana.” Yauhmi sighed. “We have to take steps to make sure we don’t just become tyrants under a different flag.”
“We do not need this wholesale change to prevent that though! We do not intend to be tyrants,” Huacue shouted.
“Most tyrants don’t - when they start. But they convince themselves that they’re the only ones who can be trusted to lead.” Sirua, the leader of the Itotemoc, shook her head. “If we don’t trust our people to lead with us, sooner or later, we won’t be their liberators - we will merely be their overlords. And what would our sacrifices have all been for then, in the end?”
“I would also point out one thing,” Texōccoatl said. “As the good Vice-Speaker points out, even if we don’t want to make these changes - and I, personally, do - it would be foolish to resist them. The emergence of Huenya has awoken something in its people. They want freedom, and a voice. They will not accept tyrants anymore, even well-intended ones. I, for one, have no desire to become the peoples’ enemy. That never ends well. Ask Xochiuhue.”
Cusuyo and Huacue looked at each other. “How would this legislature share power between us and the elected side, then?” Huacue said finally, in a resigned voice.
As the discussion continued, Vice-Speaker Tiacihitli smiled. We may end up doing this right and not having yet another revolt after all.
—-
Huenyan countryside
Border between Necatli and Itotemoc regions
“You’ve secured the facility. Are the weapons still in place?” Defense Secretary Tlanexchel, from his temporary base in Zapotlán, looked at the screen in stunned amazement.
“Yes, sir,” the Military Intelligence sergeant of the Huenyan Army commanding the detachment said on the other end of the video call. “It looks like they tried to get them out of the base during the withdrawal, but failed to complete their mission before this area fell to our forces, and the Imperial forces fled while they could.”
Tlanexchel whistled. “Happy birthday to me,” he murmured, his eyes glinting as the camera panned around to show exactly what the Xiomeran Imperial Army had left behind as they had abandoned their former base.
“Indeed, sir,” the sergeant said happily. “We also just got check-ins from other units - it looks like this is just one of four bases like it that had their ‘presents’ left behind.”
“Keep this under wraps for now,” Tlanexchel ordered. The MI sergeant nodded, terminating the call. Do I have something to tell the Assembly. Calhualyana, you may want to think twice about threatening the Federation again, Tlanexchel thought.
At his location, the MI sergeant swiftly barked at his detachment to make sure the perimeter was secure. As he walked through the front gate, the sun glinted off the sign mounted next to it:
Ultimchec Base
Xiomeran Imperial Armed Forces
Imperial Strategic Defense Corps
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