Gaungxi, Joesen Shogunate
Baise was, by all counts, an unremarkable city.
Founded in the far east of the Guangxi region in 1730 and located merely a stones throw away from neighbouring Situoke, it was a small and humble city. Despite Joesen's growing prosperity, Baise - along with a majority of rural areas - had only become marginally developed. It was for this very reason that landscape images of Baise were often used in Joesen post-cards; despite extensive mining operations, Baise possessed beautiful surroundings, due to its precipitious climate.
It was strange, then, that the administration placed such stringent restrictions on travelling into Baise. Surely this quaint city with its glorious environs and marvellous vistas would be extensively marketed as a tourist attraction? The official line was that the area "lacked sufficient infrastructure to be a viable tourist site". The real reason, however, was far more simple; Baise had the largest population of Liaoist minorities in the whole of Joesen.
When mining operations began to take off in Baise, hundreds of Liaoists travelled to the region. Due to the inheritance of the Yashimese Empire's occupation and the failure of the military administration to enact legislation to redress the balance, Liaoists were predominantly less skilled than their fellow Yashimese citizens. As such, while the average Yashiman would sniff in disdain at such heavy labour, the Liaoists leaped at the opportunity. If they did not travel freely, they were redeployed by the late Interim Executive Council, the latter being eager to exploit the cheap labour provided by these workers. So it was that, by 2009, Liaoists made up 67% of the population.
Ethnic tensions had subsequently become high. While racist attitudes had diminished in the central cities, such bigoted attitudes still held firm in the countryside (a sector which made up 77% of the Christian Phalangist Union's electoral support). With such an abundance of poor workers in the area, local crime levels began to rise. The Yashimese residents took this as confirmation for their belief that Liaoists were nothing better than common criminals. Violence ensued, as the military administration was forced to allocate more and more soldiers to maintain order.
The civil unrest in Baise was not motivated purely by economic reasons. Political factors also played their role. Amongst the Liaoist workers, disenfranchised by the system and society, the seeds of an insidious ideology were dispersed; Socialism. The Yashimesen National Front abhorred no ideology more than Socialism; it was the failure of the Joesen Social Republic which had caused the military revolution in the first place. Furthermore, the presence of Communist Situoke to the east and Strainist Spyr to the north raised fears that the aforementioned nations could exploit Socialist elements in society to undermine the Shogunate. The situation in Baise was particularly troubling, as it was far too close to the Joesen-Siutoke border.
It was no wonder, then, that the Youjiang District Militia officers looked on uneasily at the proceedings. A mass demonstration was occurring in the city centre, marking the anniversary of the day the Joesen Executive National Development Committee banned Socialist parties from the United Diet, in response to the assassination of the Executive Foreign Secretary. The Militia, anxious to avoid disruptions, had herded the protestors into the square - an unwise tactic. Hundreds of protestors - mainly Liaoists - furiously waved home-made placards while screaming slogans. Splashes of red and yellow were visible across the crowd - the colours of the banned Socialist Democratic Alliance and the Movement for Social Justice respectively.
Commissary Kenji Shibazaki was no Militia trooper; his obsidian uniform, in stark contrast to the navy blue of the Militia, made this blatantly obvious. He was in fact the local commander for the Joint-Main Political Department, the administration's internal security taskforce. A special case like Baise required the more knowledgeable touch of the JMPD; the Militia, while dependable, lacked subtlety.
And indeed, that very thought was going through Shibazaki's mind as he surveyed the scene. The Militia were out in force, decked in riot gear, as they struggled to contain the surging crowd. Shibazaki could have told them immediately that constricting an enraged group of citizens into one small space was a bad idea. However, he was under strict orders to minimise all negative externalities caused by this event.
For his own personal amusement, he glanced at the few of the signs thrust about by the protestors. The usual cliches were present; Generals dining in a fine restaurant with skeletons underneath the table, an oiled black boot stamping down on Joesen, malicious soldiers bayonetting a Socialist as he lay writhing on the ground. However, one propaganda piece caught him by surprise; a black-and-white photo of Shogun Shun Sugata, with four words drawn in crimson red across the front in Yashimese: "SHOGUN, SOLDIER, SLAVE-DRIVER, SODOMITE". Shibazaki frowned, making a mental note to raise this with his superiours.
As he turned about, he stifled a sigh as the Militia Lieutenant approached him.
"Commissary Shibazaki," He exclaimed, placing his fist to his chest. "My men are in position to deploy tear gas." When this meritted no response, he added: "We also have three tanks on stand-by." This prompted the Commissary to raise an eyebrow.
"Tanks? Don't you think that's a little excessive, Lieutenant?"
"Orders from the Commander-General of the Guangxi Central Administration." The Lieutenant replied, as Shibazaki nodded slowly. "Purely for shock value, I must say. Hardly able to maneouvre in this square, anyhow." Shibazaki inclined his head, exhaling slowly.
"Alright, prepare to deploy-"
The Commissary suddenly felt a sharp pain in his abdomen. The momentum of the projectile threw him off-balance, causing him to collapse to the ground. He smacked hard against the cobblestones, as two red welts appeared in the front of his uniform. And as he slipped into unconsciousness, he recalled the harsh metallic siren - the unmistakeable sound of gunfire.
If it would be an understatement to say that Shibazaki was surprised, it would be positively facetious to describe the Lieutenant in the same way. As he watched his superiour crumpled before him, his mind was seized by a single, all-ecompassing though: I'm being shot at.
Military training prevailed over shock, as he quickly ran into cover, grabbing the radio from his belt. The crowd - too absorbed in their own chanting - had not even seemed to have heard the shots. As he unclipped his radio, it suddenly crackled into life, as more and more shots were reported. Three officers had already been wounded. Gritting his teeth, the Lieutenant clicked on the radio and uttered the fateful words that would define that day:
"Return fire! Disperse the crowd!"
The Militia obeyed.
If the protestors had not noticed the original gunshots, they certainly noticed the ones that tore into the mass of bodies gathered in the centre. The angry chanting spontaneously transformed into screaming as the group dissolved, rioters abandoning their posters and running towards the square's exit. An exit blocked by three imposing tanks, on loan from the Joesen Ground Self-Defence Force. The operators, due to the inpromptu nature of their arrival, had yet to be equipped with radios; as such, when they saw the crowd running towards their position, they took this as a signal to advance. To the panicked mob, it was an ambush. The remnants of the group tore off in all directions as the tanks blundered into the square.
The Lieutenant, horrified at the carnage, immediately ordered a ceasefire within five seconds of the dispersal. But the damage had already been done. Debris and bodies alike littered the ground, discarded amongst the dropped placards and posters. A quick-witted Militia officer quickly ran out to the tank, flagging it down. Soon, the groaning of the dying and the wounded filled the air, as the Lieutenant looked over the aftermath of the Youjiang Massacre.
