Amongst the Crystal Waters... TroubleThe ear-piercing screech quieted the crowd for a long moment as the dual Ai-10 multi-role fighters flew low to the airstrip before pulling up and out over the ocean, their bright orange turbofans glistened off into the distance. But as soon as the rumbles of the jet fighters subsided, so to did the growing fervor of the crowd erupt again as the Achklandish military jet’s charge taxied across the small airports runway to the detest of those who gathered there on the picket line. The white
Endo E195 marked with the Achklandish violet and red flag on it’s tail turned towards the awaiting crowd as its engines whined and moaned before the power was struck from them all together. Ground crews rushed to bring the executive Achklandish aircraft to rest while the jeering crowds of gathered Achklanders shouted their antipathy for its arrival.
Between them she could see the thin green line of Achklandish Army soldiers armed with black riot helmets and glass shields, backs towards her plane in silent distance from any feelings they might have towards the issues that plagued this nation. Their form of professionalism was so foreign to The Youth, that she almost hated their lack of empathy for these people. Their glass shields the more visible of the two barriers they carried with them, the second of which being their phycological barrier towards their fellow human.
Murders
Occupiers
Achklanders go home
Yamatain pigs
Free MongwauAll the banners, signs, face paint, and slurs they carried with them that day were all justified in the mind of
Aimi Takahashi, better known as the Youth of the Haikade of Achkland. She had sung many songs similar to the words these demonstrators were saying, ballads of peace, resistance to violence, and homage to the disestablishment. Ironic now she looked on at this sentiment from her plush leather chair and sleek white government jet as a visiting head of state to Mongwau Autonomous Island. The young faces in the crowd be it Achklander, Yamatain, or native all wanted the same thing… peace and freedom. Surely the famous young singer and actress “9ine” was the best person on the Haikade to come and diffuse the violent situation on the small island of Mongwau. As the plane jolted forward and then rested at the stop Aimi was sure of her own ability.
Mongwau was an island that few beyond the university students and the native populace knew about. It was one of hundreds of autonomous regions within Achkland set aside for native Valeyans since the establishment of Achkland as an independent nation. More recently however it has become known for more troubling events such as acid attacks on female Yamatain students, stabbings on campus, and the most alarming bombing of the Mongwau Native Studies University student union building. It was the unsurprising product of years of built up tension between the Achklander and Yamatain migrants to the peaceful sub-tropical island and the natives who found too much success in marketing their small tourist/college destination. The creature within their community now growled at the encroachment of the bigger beast of Achklandish culture, and its territory would soon find it’s mark with youth of this foreign blight. While the crowd assembled at the small Mongwau Airport was made up of many natives, some of the people whom they considered foreigners joined them in solidarity, perhaps much to their surprise and distaste.
What interest the Haikade has in such a small part of their humble nation, was to prevent the boiling over of anger and resentment amongst all the native minorities of Achkland. Terrorism and violence from these groups is ever the topic of discussion amongst the body of eight whom make up the head of state of Achkland. If Aimi had to listen to The Soldier proceed on one of his lengthy discussions about counter insurgency and the military tools available to them, she might just hurl during session, weapons of war being talked about so freely a huge distaste. Many of its members were all too ready to deal with this situation quietly and with force. Herself and The Mother however insisted that a dialog with the Mongwau people could be reached. Thus, this small minority of thinking among the ruling body of the nation was given a small chance to make this right before a much heavier handed solution had to be found. With a small military contingent already present on the island, Aimi would surely have her work as diplomat cut out for her as the people might see her as the veil of the Haikade’s true militaristic intentions for them.
“Madam Youth, we have arrived at Mongwau Airport, the local time is two-o-clock.” The Air Force commander piloting the plane came over the speakers of the cabin. Aimi’s own security detail was already on their feet, communicating with those forward deployed on the ground preparing for The Youth’s entrance. Behind her she could hear the press corps being released ahead of her, setting the stage to make this attempt at peace a national headline. Aimi was certainly not previously a politician, coming from the ranks of A-pop’s rising stars and thrust via popularity amongst her demographic to be one of the ruling members of the nation. But if politicians and popstars had anything in common it was the fact they loved to be seen making an entrance, so Aimi doubly so.
“I am ready to go down.” Aimi stood up into the aisle of the plane, waiting for the security detail to open the cabin door.
“We are still currently securing the area ma’am, we can not let you out at this time.” A stiff Yamatain man in black suit fluttered his palm before her as he also carried a conversation on with his headset.
Aimi’s very vocal facial expressions were the ire of the Haikadian Special Service, much more characterized and contrary than the rest of the older Haikade members. Her codename “Burning Star” almost gave a hint as to her outlook as a fiery head of state who knew she was much more than just a Haikade member, she was an Achklandish icon.
“Excuse me, firstly do not wave your hand at me…” Aimi mockingly fluttered her own dainty hand around at her chief of security. “… and secondly you have a whole divisions worth of soldiers out there, if you haven’t been ready for my arrival, then that’s on you.” Her eyes tossed him aside like no muscle could as colorful and trendy dress fluttered along the aisle while shoving past him. What she did not see however was his own eye roll as he flexibly accounted for her cavalier exit from the plane.
“The fire rises.” He said into his earpiece, Aimi knew once again she had gotten her way.
Without more of a struggle, her staff and detail opened up the cabin door, the rise in the crowds fervor erupting even more as they saw the stairway being moved up and The Youth emerging. It was a bright day so Aimi shielded her eyes to the sun as she took the first step out of the plane. It felt nice and cool here, compared to the warmer southern areas of the Achklandish mainland. With a big smile like she was coming on the stage for the first performance of the night, Aimi waved to the crowd who showed her no fanfare. While she knew the situation was tough in Mongwau, she did not expect as much anger in the crowd as she found at the top of those stairs. Looking down upon them it almost sank her heart and ego to see the jeering mass of slurs, spit, and vitriol that stood before her. But if she ever wished to succeed in her posting on the Haikade and the many opportunities that followed that, she knew she must endure. Surely the people of Mongwau would endure with her as they come to see it is peace that is their best friend. Peace with their fellow islanders, peace with the Haikade, and peace within Achkland.
Aimi ventured down the steps, continuing to wave as if these protestors that yelled hate at her and shoved against the shields of the Achklandish soldiers were her adoring fans. It was a much tougher crowd being a politician, but given her almost universal likeability as a A-pop star she had little trouble deducing that as a diplomat she would see the same success.
Reaching the ground Aimi skipped the standard salute to her military honor guard once again, something The Soldier scolded her for in closed sessions of the Haikade, but militarism was a very negative subject for youth in Achkland. The corps of reporters that had either flown in with her or were local to the island met her there and began to flash their cameras, an all too alluring sight and sound for Aimi that she immediately was attracted to. Publicity was her specialty on the Haikade, and if there was anything the rest of the members of the Haikade came to her to ask, it was how to deal with their new-found life in the spotlight.
While her security attempted to push back the reporters and give The Youth space to walk, Aimi began to hear their questions, though it was only minutes since she had arrived.
“Madam youth, what is the situation here in Mongwau?” One of the reporters she recognized from Fawnnora asked while holding a silver microphone over the shoulder of one of Aimi’s security agents.
Aimi smiled, she was quite a lovely girl and her black hair even as it blowed in the island wind was perfectly placed from any camera angle whether she sang for a music video or spoke to the press.
“The situation here is, that we need to respect each other. Something I’ve been hard at work reminding the rest of the Haikade.” Aimi’s voice was singsong even when she was not singing, its feminine tones and pitches always perfect for each word. “Hate is artificial. We can overcome it. I am confident being here we can show each other that there can be peace for all of us. Which I know in our hearts we all desire.” Aimi so fittingly covered her own left breast with her palm as she smiled, oblivious to all but the god called aperture.
“ACHKLANDER WHORE!” The shrill scream lifted her senses and just as qucikly dropped them to the pit of her stomach. From behind it seems the security net for The Youth’s visit was not tight enough, the dark-haired star caught a glimpse of a Mongwauan man charging towards her from behind, machete in hand.
CRACKAlmost as soon as she caught a glimpse of him in full tilt and violence did she then see him dead upon the tarmac. Just beyond a green digital clad Achklandish soldier held his smoking battle rifle high, charging towards the scene where The Youth stood frozen before the would-be attacker.
Unfortunately for Aimi the god called aperture often catches us in the times we are most vulnerable as well. But unlike being caught in compromising positions or at indecent times by the paparazzi, standing before the bloody body of a minority man where you just seconds ago talked about peace in your country has a different visceral affect across media. So too did the image of Aimi being carried off like a sports ball by her security detail back up the stairs to the white plane, the diplomatic mission Aimi so lauded failed after only ten steps from her aircraft.
As she was carried between her security agents, she could see the scene devolving around her, the crowd that was previously only half-assed shoving at the line of soldiers was now in full riot, fists, batons, rocks, signs, teeth were now being used in this war of anger. Cries and screams as soldiers beat down choice targets, and protestors banded together to take on the formation of green were all Aimi could hear as the engines of her white plane began to whine once more. Below the last thing she saw just before being pulled into the hull of the plane is a large chunk of pavement being hurled towards her, but falling ever so short into the skull of a reporter. Not even the fellow members of the press stopped to help their bloodied comrade while trying to save themselves from the chaos. Yet as Aimi was shoved back into her leather plush chair in the cabin of her VIP plane, she could not help but cry. The fire was rising, but it was not hers, yet she had caused this blaze.
She was surely a blazing star, the bringer of death.