The outstretched hand of grey chimneys rose over the horizon as if they were trying to reach the elusive disc of the rising sun. The days of Ancient Esseles, dignified in its decay and proud of its long lost glory seemed long gone, having passed like wind on a meadow. The Empire that had lived on since the earliest days of the Republic had fallen in but three short years. The nobility wept for their lost dignity and cobwebs of misuse gathered in the Senate House, but for the average man, the destruction of the traditional order was the first ray of light they have seen in years untold.
Sometimes, things had to be broken to be made anew.
The Empire was many things – a ruthless regime that pursued its goals with the delicacy of a tank thread, crushing all who dared opose it under their jackboots, but in some places, it was this approach that was so thoroughly needed – to break the suffocating old and allow a nation to start anew. It was a rare occurence, especially within the Core, where long established civilisations have adapted well to the changing of trends in governance and where the ancient power of the founders was as unshakable as was their adherence to tradition. Esseles may have been that, once. Now, it stood as something different entirely. Beyond the garden-like reaches of Calamar and its likes, industry once again bloomed black and grey, the stables of Damorian and InCom grinding the endless funds and resources provided to them by the Imperial House, the League and Rothana into steeds of cold durasteel. Many such facilities were there already, more of them grew still as the grasp of the Senate was broken and forgotten.
Few, then, paid heed to the foreign co-emperor Aristomachus, a rubber stamp for his father, imposed to rule alongside Junia II, the last of her dynasty, for he rarely appeared in public, prefering to pursue his ancient tomes in the privacy of his study as his wife grieved and drank and grieved. Fewer still cared about the ancient orders of aristocracy, which diminished by the day, replaced by loyal foreigners at gunpoint. Few but the wealthiest cared that the colourful lights of the cities grew dimmer, more monotone.
What they cared about were jobs, the bread on their tables and the future before them. For, after selling itself in a faustian bargain, the Empire of Esseles once again had one.
During times of strife, the thirty worlds had known periods of two emperors, or four, or sixteen, each ruling a pocket domain of their own, vying for absolute power. Now the Times have changed, and the Empire had two emperors and three kings that actually ruled. The names of Junia II and Aristomachus I were well known, while the other three, not so much:
Damorian Manufacturing, InCom and Moff Aristobulus of Pahlmir.
And perhaps, what they brought was not at all that bad.
Source: r/model_holonet · by /u/TheBreadEntity