Tides of Democracy

MacSalterson

TNPer
Pronouns
They/Them
Aesïl, Ga'al District, Stanh Yerä

Excited conversation and the sound of constantly moving doors filled the city headquarters. Today was historic, marking the first city elections held in Yeraennus since the fall of the Federation, over fifty years ago. Voters of all ages, from those old enough to remember the Federation itself to fresh-faced adults, many not even out of college or university, filled the hall, waiting their turn to step into one of the voting booths and place their ballot. The candidates were all experienced, graduates of the National Military Academy's Diplomatic and Political Program or already part of the government, and their ages were almost as varied as the voters'.

Esop A'guz, the Prime Vizier of Yeraennus, watched the proceedings through a camera, sitting on the top floor of the HQ. He was surprised, in all honesty, that the turnout was this big for such a small election. To him, this election was a positive thing, a sign of trust and optimism from the people, despite the contrary beliefs of many government officials; even the notorious Ayaz M'asä opposed it. Of course, Ayaz's opinion didn't matter to Esop. Ayaz was a bloodthirsy bastard of a man, content to crush any dissent under his heel. And it was for that reason that Ayaz was so effective at his job as the Minister of Intelligence. He would stop at nothing to serve the government, and his track record for hunting down escaped criminals, terrorists, or traitors was as clean as humanly possible. But that wasn't important. What was important was that Ayaz could not stop this election from taking place.




Kolyan, Federal District, Stanh Yerä

A block of apartments rose up from the streets, uniform and rather bland. It stood in a district of middling rent, preferred by bachelors and small families for the clean rooms and manageable rent. On the fourth floor, a young journalist, by the name of Yaþa S'käl, reclined in his seat, placing his shoeless feet up on his desk as he leaned away from the laptop he had been typing at moments before, a scathing article on the penal system in his home country. He wrote political columns, mostly critical of the Yeraenn government, an extremely dangerous act in the current dictatorial regime. Though he was independent and relatively small-time, nowhere near the giants of mainstream media in Yeraennus, his site nevertheless attracted quite a few regular readers, and more recently, the attentions of a certain figure whom no Journalist, or anyone, wanted the attention of. The Minister of Intelligence and Lord Commander, Ayaz M'asä, had recently found Yaþa's site after a particularly popular article critisizing the actions of the Minister, noting his particular brutality against any form of political dissent. Yaþa was careful about hiding his identity, using multiple obstacles and proxies to obfuscate his identity, but he knew that it was only a matter of time once the article went up until he was discovered, as close to the capital as he was. What he did not expect, however, was that he would be found today.
 
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