The Climate of Fear

[NDak 0]

“It is when power is wedded to chronic fear that is becomes formidable.”

-Eric Hoffer, The Passionate State of Mind, 1954

 

Only a week had passed since the attacks on Earth by unknown forces. Across the Romulan Empire, word had begun to filter in through channels of a species from across the Alpha Quadrant known as the Soltons, though still yet some called them the Selshans. No one was actually sure who it was except for the people in the Senate and the Galae, and as usual they were keeping a tight lid on the information being disseminated by the Imperial News Network and the Free Rihan Press. One thing, however, was rather sure—a climate of fear had started to descend upon the Empire.

 

In the past, the affairs of the other races had done little to stir interest in the minds of the D’Era—the Chosen—for they smartly kept themselves out of the affairs of the galaxy; however with the dissolution of isolationism following the Dominion War and their own Civil Wars, suddenly what happened to Earth could affect the Two Worlds.

 

Walking through the streets of any of the cities of the Empire, there was a palatable feel of this new found fear. The Federation had been rocked to its core. The head of the Federation had nearly been served clean with a fail stroke. The people of the Federation were rank with fear. The Versailles treaty had brought the two governments closer than ever; millions of Romulans now depended on the economic and agricultural trades that were streaming across the once guarded border that was known to the Romulans as the Outmarches. Even more troublesome was the thought that war could be upon their own doorstep.

 

Undoubtedly the Federation was better prepared for war, and the images of what this new enemy had done to the sparkling white ships of the Federation and the cities of the paradise of Earth were fresh in their minds as they looked to their own military and cities, only now beginning to recover from a near decade of civil war.

 

Another question lingered in their minds. All over the Empire, campaign signs littered the grounds of public spaces. Between the newscasts of dire reports from Earth, advertisements for Praetorian candidates echoed in their heads. For the first time in the history of the Empire, the people would choose directly the man or woman who would lead their Empire. And in these dark days, the critical urgency to pick the right candidate could not have been overstated.

 

Just before the attack on Earth, it seemed that Senator Akal Donatra had widened a comfortable lead on her primary opponent Admiral Destorie N’Dak; but as lives of millions changed that day, so did the political fate of Romulus. Donatra had been running as the Praetor who would tie the Empire even closer to the Federation, the geopolitical center of the Quadrant, she’d promised change, while N’Dak forebode a since of the past—ways that had led the Empire into isolation, strife and occasional failure.

 

The response had been clear, ever since declaring her candidacy she’d gained on N’Dak; who, despite his considerable charisma, financing and deeply rooted political ties, could not overcome her plainspoken nature, populist politics or the general sense that the Empire was ready to step into the light. N’Dak’s once commanding lead had been all but erased and in most polls, Donatra led by as many as seven points a mere day before the attack.

 

Then there had been the attack. Romulans can be accused of many things, but politically ignorant would not be one of them. Fear had suddenly overtaken the electorate. The once stable Federation, who through two-hundred years of conflicts had seemed almost invincible, especially to a people whose searing memory of Earth was that of a deep, unending shame in their failure to conquer it; had suddenly and acutely been shown to be venerable.

 

With less than a week passed from the attack, and only a week left before the landmark elections, it was clear that the attack had sent shockwaves through the electorate. N’Dak had projected himself as the candidate wanting to make Romulus a strong, independent power, a foil to Earth’s considerable influence. Now, more than ever, independence from the faltering star seemed important to the people of the Two Worlds. Driven, perhaps by fear, N’Dak’s numbers had bounced suddenly, from a 48% to 41% deficit, with 11% undecided in the last poll taken, just a day before the attack to a lead of 54% to 46%.

 

As the fires on Earth began to die, and the Federation began to lick their wounds, the political fires of Romulus were beginning to burn white hot once more.