02-28-2020, 12:29 PM
Hiranur Aksoy was one of the oldest Auroras. She’d been in Laeral since 1980, and she had adapted well to her life there. She barely remembered her childhood in Kerlile, or her training - which, as a member of the very first class of Auroras, was less extensive than those younger than her. Her mission had merely been to try and influence Laeral to move in a more feminist direction, nothing like what had come later. She’d watched the Charissa Clarke fiasco with horror, angry with Kerlile for using her like that and disappointed in her country.
It seemed to Hiranur that Kerlile had itself diverged from the feminist ideal it had set up to realise. The reform would do them good, but it was still a long way off what it wanted to be. She enjoyed her studies as a feminist academic in Laeral, and she felt that, frankly, she was doing more for the cause than the whole Kerlian government in the present day. The thought of going home with nothing accomplished upset her. She didn’t want to return, and she wondered about the ways she could get out of going back.
Despite the rules, she’d come across one of her friends from training in her life, an Aurora sent to Lauchenoiria. It had been a coincidence, they’d both been attending an academic conference and had seen each other. In spite of their training, they decided to meet up, get a coffee, go for a walk and reminisce. That had been many years ago, long before the Clarke fiasco, and they’d shared a lot of insights into the development of feminism, and the state of Kerlian politics. Since then they’d continued to correspond by email, keeping it to academic discussion primarily. They shared the occasional phone call as well.
But Amaya had stopped responding to her messages a month ago, and when Hiranur did some digging, it became clear that the Lauchenoirians had her somewhere, and not on a legal basis. She’d been devastated. She was terrified for her friend, given how much the Lauchenoirians hated Auroras, and it made her rethink the wisdom of the entire Aurora Programme. As a medium for spreading feminism across the globe, it really came with far too many unnecessary risks - and clearly was being abused by the present Councillor Pierre.
She called the Aurora Centre.
“Good morning, please state your KCID.”
“Uh… 23601..527?” she replied, uncertain. It had been a long time since she’d needed her Kerlian Citizen ID number.
“Do you require assistance?”
“No, I just… I’m not coming back.”
“... that is unacceptable. You have been given a direct order.”
“Yes, but there is no purpose in my return. The Programme of my day was very different from now, and I’m doing good here. More than I ever could at home.”
“You’re in Laeral, yes? Come back, and we can work something out. We have already had a request from one Laeral-assigned to return to the Allied Provinces, there is the possibility of us negotiating a deal with the Laeralian government, but you will need to return to be debriefed in any case.”
Hiranur sighed. “Fine, fine. But if you don’t make a deal, I’m not going to be very happy at all. I hope you’re going to do something to help all the others who have been imprisoned in various places, too.”
“That is not your concern. Return to Kerlile as soon as possible. Goodbye.”
Hiranur threw the phone down in anger, but she would obey anyway. If they made some kind of a deal, maybe she wouldn’t need to live in fear. And maybe Amaya would be rescued too.
*
Marita Vogel had a terrible life. As a member of an Iustonian rebel group, she lived every day and night wondering if this would be her last. They had to fight Shuellian penal legions, which was a terrifying thing to do. They were so willing to die - or, at least, they had no choice in the matter - that they’d fight very persistently. She hated it, but had to pretend at all times that she was some kind of religious zealot. They were also infuriatingly sexist at times - she was by far the best fighter, but nobody would ever acknowledge it.
It had occurred to her many times that she could just run away, abandon her mission and set up a new life for herself somewhere they’d never find her. But between her own people and the Shuellians, she would be lucky to make it out of the jungle. In the oppressive, humid heat it was a horrible place to run, anyway. And they were getting closer to her group’s encampment every day. Soon they’d be completely surrounded.
One night, when she was sleeping in her uncomfortable hammock of twine and rope, after eating her disgusting rations and relieving herself in a bucket, she heard a noise in the distance. At first she thought it was just an animal in the jungle, but then she heard a call from the night patrol… followed by a gunshot. She leapt to her feet and grabbed a rifle, joining the others in the ruckus that had been raised by the call. They got into position, and readied themselves to fight against whoever was attacking.
It was a long fight. She was an excellent sniper, and probably managed to kill more than 10 of the attacking Shuellians, but it wouldn’t be enough. They were outnumbered, outgunned, and the rest of the rebels, the real rebels, weren’t the best fighters. They would likely all die that day, a thought that she tried to keep out of her head while fighting. A grenade exploded nearby, and she had to switch her hiding place. Unfortunately, this would require crossing open ground for a few seconds, which would be enough for someone to shoot her. But she had no choice.
She ran, and as she did, she felt a pain in her leg, and she went down. She managed to pull herself by her arms behind a tree, leaving a trail of blood in her wake. Examining the leg, Marita was concerned. The dirt of the jungle floor was collecting up with the blood, and if she didn’t clean it, it would likely get infected. She looked around for water, or cloth, or anything, but she’d got up in such a rush her water bottle wasn’t with her. She swore and leaned against the tree, trying to catch her breath and stop the bleeding.
The blood loss made her dizzy, and she fell unconscious after a while. When she woke, she was tied up and a man was looking over her, some kind of medic. She was woozy, and the words spoken were spinning around in her head. She recognised the language, German, but she wasn’t completely fluent and it was too much effort to translate at first, though she tried her best. Eventually she woke up enough to understand what they were saying.
“The leg’s infected, she’ll die if we don’t amputate now.”
“No!” she gasped aloud, causing them all to turn and look at her.
“Shut up, Kerlian,” one of them spat at her in English. Fear flooded through her.
“No hablo inglés,” she replied in Spanish, trying to sound confused.
“We know what you are, Aurora,” one of the soldiers said in English, stepping over and pressing on her leg, causing her to scream out in pain. “Knock her out and do what you need to.”
“No, no please,” she begged, horrified. “Don’t! Please!”
“Oh, now you speak English,” the soldier sneered as the doctor stuck a needle in her.
“Please!” she yelled, noting with terror that someone had just handed the doctor a machete. She was feeling woozy again, and they were all glowering at her as she fell unconscious, terrified.
*
Mackenzie Walhorn was very proud to be an Aurora. There had been no doubt in her mind when she was deployed that she would do something great in service of the Matriarchy that she would be remembered for and honoured for. She did not expect to survive whatever her mission turned out to be, and accepted it, looking forward to dying for the Matriarchy in a rather disturbingly eager fashion. The whole time she’d been in Zamastan, since 1991, she never wavered from her conviction that one day the world would be run using the Kerlian matriarchal system, despite all the evidence to the contrary.
So when she was recalled to Kerlile, it crushed her completely. Her entire reason for being was to one day sacrifice herself for the military. She was 42, she would be too old to join the military if she went home. Her mission would end there, and nobody would ever remember her, and no good would have come from her life living in this goddessforsaken patriarchal country. Despite her loyalty to Kerlile, the order to return home made her angry. So angry, that she decided not to follow it.
Mackenzie vanished. She disposed of her methods of contacting the Matriarchy entirely, and she left Zamastan. Using her skills, she required a new false identity, a fourth name added to the three she already had. She spent days flying back and forth across the world using a variety of fake passports, erasing any trail she could have left. Anyone trying to track her, from Kerlile, Zamastan or elsewhere would not be able to. She changed her appearance, learned a new accent, new mannerisms and made no attempt to contact anyone from either of her old lives at any point.
When she arrived at her destination, neither Mackenzie Walhorn, International Investment Specialist at ZSuites Incorporated and Kerlian Citizen 12287723, Aurora known as Layla during training and member of the class of 1991 existed. She had erased her past entirely, but she hadn’t erased her mission. Kerlile may have become weak and spineless with the rise of these reformists, but she had not. Orders were one thing, but she served a higher cause - that of women’s liberation worldwide. And she would continue to champion that cause from the shadows - and the world better watch out.
*
Comilō had struggled greatly when she was ordered to return to Kerlile. She’d spent a long time that night watching her 6-year-old daughter sleep and thinking about what it would be like to never see her again. The thought hurt her greatly, and it was there that she made the decision that she wouldn’t return to the Matriarchy. As the days passed, her husband noticed her nerves and commented on it, but she just said she thought she was coming down with a cold. In reality, she was having terrible nightmares.
As the day approached when the deadline for returning or being cut off from support loomed, she began to feel even more nervous, until eventually she had a panic attack in a shopping mall and had to hide in the bathroom. She sat there for a long time, head in her hands, wondering what she could do. She didn’t want to leave, but at the same time being abandoned to her fate frightened her. There had to be another option, surely? Perhaps if she just called up the Matriarchy and asked? It probably couldn't hurt…
She left the shopping mall bathroom and got into her car, then drove to the nearest park and made her way to the waterfall she knew was nearby. The sound of the running water would hopefully mask what she was saying, and the fact she would need to speak English, which had a chance of attracting suspicion. She dialled.
“Good morning,” yawned the voice on the other end, and it suddenly occurred to Comilō that it was probably around 3am in Kerlile. “Please state your KCID.”
“26027537.”
“Ah yes, I have you here, Com… ma’am. How may we help you?” the voice said, hesitating on her name, clearly uncertain how to pronounce it.
“I know we were told to return home, but… I have a daughter here, and I can’t leave her.”
“Ah, yes. We have that on your file. Well, good news for you, we have a special deal with the Xiomeran government. Can you wait on hold? I don’t know the details, someone else will need to speak to you. Hang on.”
The voice disappeared and was replaced by some pretty standard hold music, which at first caused Comilō to pause, and then to laugh aloud, unable to stop at how utterly mundane it was for something which was a helpline for secret agents.
“Hello, Comilō,” came another voice after about 5 minutes. “My name is Susan, I work for Councillor Hale. You don’t need to worry, you’re completely safe.”
Comilō was confused and uncertain, but there was something in Susan’s voice that relaxed her and made her believe that the woman was telling the truth - even though she couldn’t quite believe that there was any way she was safe.
“We have an arrangement with the Xiomeran government to allow any Aurora in the country who wishes to remain to stay,” explained Susan. “I understand you have a husband and daughter in the country? Is it your desire to remain in Xiomera due to your family?”
“Yes, but…” she glanced around and lowered her voice, “I don’t want to end up disappearing or something, and I worry.”
“You don’t need to worry about that. You need to get in contact with the Xiomeran authorities if you wish to remain, or we can do that for you. You’ll register with them and they’ll explain the further nuances of our arrangement. You will no longer be an employee of the Kerlian Intelligence Service and you will be free to live your life.”
“I… no offence, but this sounds like something an Eiria-assigned dreams when she’s seven,” said Comilō sceptically.
“I understand why you feel that way, but I promise you. You’ve seen how we have an alliance with Xiomera, they are the ones who asked for this deal and we accepted. If you wish further reassurance, I can ask Councillor Hale to contact you.”
“No, no, that won’t be necessary,” Comilō assured Susan. There was no way she was going to put a Councillor out of her way. “I’ll… I’ll contact the Xiomeran authorities.”
“Are you sure? We can do it for you, if you prefer.”
“No, I’d rather it came from me. Thank you,” Comilō said and then hung up the phone. She leaned back against a tree and breathed deeply. It was rather nerve-wracking, the thought of going to the authorities and admitting what she was, but if it meant she had a chance of keeping her life without having to live in fear… it was worth the risk.
It seemed to Hiranur that Kerlile had itself diverged from the feminist ideal it had set up to realise. The reform would do them good, but it was still a long way off what it wanted to be. She enjoyed her studies as a feminist academic in Laeral, and she felt that, frankly, she was doing more for the cause than the whole Kerlian government in the present day. The thought of going home with nothing accomplished upset her. She didn’t want to return, and she wondered about the ways she could get out of going back.
Despite the rules, she’d come across one of her friends from training in her life, an Aurora sent to Lauchenoiria. It had been a coincidence, they’d both been attending an academic conference and had seen each other. In spite of their training, they decided to meet up, get a coffee, go for a walk and reminisce. That had been many years ago, long before the Clarke fiasco, and they’d shared a lot of insights into the development of feminism, and the state of Kerlian politics. Since then they’d continued to correspond by email, keeping it to academic discussion primarily. They shared the occasional phone call as well.
But Amaya had stopped responding to her messages a month ago, and when Hiranur did some digging, it became clear that the Lauchenoirians had her somewhere, and not on a legal basis. She’d been devastated. She was terrified for her friend, given how much the Lauchenoirians hated Auroras, and it made her rethink the wisdom of the entire Aurora Programme. As a medium for spreading feminism across the globe, it really came with far too many unnecessary risks - and clearly was being abused by the present Councillor Pierre.
She called the Aurora Centre.
“Good morning, please state your KCID.”
“Uh… 23601..527?” she replied, uncertain. It had been a long time since she’d needed her Kerlian Citizen ID number.
“Do you require assistance?”
“No, I just… I’m not coming back.”
“... that is unacceptable. You have been given a direct order.”
“Yes, but there is no purpose in my return. The Programme of my day was very different from now, and I’m doing good here. More than I ever could at home.”
“You’re in Laeral, yes? Come back, and we can work something out. We have already had a request from one Laeral-assigned to return to the Allied Provinces, there is the possibility of us negotiating a deal with the Laeralian government, but you will need to return to be debriefed in any case.”
Hiranur sighed. “Fine, fine. But if you don’t make a deal, I’m not going to be very happy at all. I hope you’re going to do something to help all the others who have been imprisoned in various places, too.”
“That is not your concern. Return to Kerlile as soon as possible. Goodbye.”
Hiranur threw the phone down in anger, but she would obey anyway. If they made some kind of a deal, maybe she wouldn’t need to live in fear. And maybe Amaya would be rescued too.
*
Marita Vogel had a terrible life. As a member of an Iustonian rebel group, she lived every day and night wondering if this would be her last. They had to fight Shuellian penal legions, which was a terrifying thing to do. They were so willing to die - or, at least, they had no choice in the matter - that they’d fight very persistently. She hated it, but had to pretend at all times that she was some kind of religious zealot. They were also infuriatingly sexist at times - she was by far the best fighter, but nobody would ever acknowledge it.
It had occurred to her many times that she could just run away, abandon her mission and set up a new life for herself somewhere they’d never find her. But between her own people and the Shuellians, she would be lucky to make it out of the jungle. In the oppressive, humid heat it was a horrible place to run, anyway. And they were getting closer to her group’s encampment every day. Soon they’d be completely surrounded.
One night, when she was sleeping in her uncomfortable hammock of twine and rope, after eating her disgusting rations and relieving herself in a bucket, she heard a noise in the distance. At first she thought it was just an animal in the jungle, but then she heard a call from the night patrol… followed by a gunshot. She leapt to her feet and grabbed a rifle, joining the others in the ruckus that had been raised by the call. They got into position, and readied themselves to fight against whoever was attacking.
It was a long fight. She was an excellent sniper, and probably managed to kill more than 10 of the attacking Shuellians, but it wouldn’t be enough. They were outnumbered, outgunned, and the rest of the rebels, the real rebels, weren’t the best fighters. They would likely all die that day, a thought that she tried to keep out of her head while fighting. A grenade exploded nearby, and she had to switch her hiding place. Unfortunately, this would require crossing open ground for a few seconds, which would be enough for someone to shoot her. But she had no choice.
She ran, and as she did, she felt a pain in her leg, and she went down. She managed to pull herself by her arms behind a tree, leaving a trail of blood in her wake. Examining the leg, Marita was concerned. The dirt of the jungle floor was collecting up with the blood, and if she didn’t clean it, it would likely get infected. She looked around for water, or cloth, or anything, but she’d got up in such a rush her water bottle wasn’t with her. She swore and leaned against the tree, trying to catch her breath and stop the bleeding.
The blood loss made her dizzy, and she fell unconscious after a while. When she woke, she was tied up and a man was looking over her, some kind of medic. She was woozy, and the words spoken were spinning around in her head. She recognised the language, German, but she wasn’t completely fluent and it was too much effort to translate at first, though she tried her best. Eventually she woke up enough to understand what they were saying.
“The leg’s infected, she’ll die if we don’t amputate now.”
“No!” she gasped aloud, causing them all to turn and look at her.
“Shut up, Kerlian,” one of them spat at her in English. Fear flooded through her.
“No hablo inglés,” she replied in Spanish, trying to sound confused.
“We know what you are, Aurora,” one of the soldiers said in English, stepping over and pressing on her leg, causing her to scream out in pain. “Knock her out and do what you need to.”
“No, no please,” she begged, horrified. “Don’t! Please!”
“Oh, now you speak English,” the soldier sneered as the doctor stuck a needle in her.
“Please!” she yelled, noting with terror that someone had just handed the doctor a machete. She was feeling woozy again, and they were all glowering at her as she fell unconscious, terrified.
*
Mackenzie Walhorn was very proud to be an Aurora. There had been no doubt in her mind when she was deployed that she would do something great in service of the Matriarchy that she would be remembered for and honoured for. She did not expect to survive whatever her mission turned out to be, and accepted it, looking forward to dying for the Matriarchy in a rather disturbingly eager fashion. The whole time she’d been in Zamastan, since 1991, she never wavered from her conviction that one day the world would be run using the Kerlian matriarchal system, despite all the evidence to the contrary.
So when she was recalled to Kerlile, it crushed her completely. Her entire reason for being was to one day sacrifice herself for the military. She was 42, she would be too old to join the military if she went home. Her mission would end there, and nobody would ever remember her, and no good would have come from her life living in this goddessforsaken patriarchal country. Despite her loyalty to Kerlile, the order to return home made her angry. So angry, that she decided not to follow it.
Mackenzie vanished. She disposed of her methods of contacting the Matriarchy entirely, and she left Zamastan. Using her skills, she required a new false identity, a fourth name added to the three she already had. She spent days flying back and forth across the world using a variety of fake passports, erasing any trail she could have left. Anyone trying to track her, from Kerlile, Zamastan or elsewhere would not be able to. She changed her appearance, learned a new accent, new mannerisms and made no attempt to contact anyone from either of her old lives at any point.
When she arrived at her destination, neither Mackenzie Walhorn, International Investment Specialist at ZSuites Incorporated and Kerlian Citizen 12287723, Aurora known as Layla during training and member of the class of 1991 existed. She had erased her past entirely, but she hadn’t erased her mission. Kerlile may have become weak and spineless with the rise of these reformists, but she had not. Orders were one thing, but she served a higher cause - that of women’s liberation worldwide. And she would continue to champion that cause from the shadows - and the world better watch out.
*
Comilō had struggled greatly when she was ordered to return to Kerlile. She’d spent a long time that night watching her 6-year-old daughter sleep and thinking about what it would be like to never see her again. The thought hurt her greatly, and it was there that she made the decision that she wouldn’t return to the Matriarchy. As the days passed, her husband noticed her nerves and commented on it, but she just said she thought she was coming down with a cold. In reality, she was having terrible nightmares.
As the day approached when the deadline for returning or being cut off from support loomed, she began to feel even more nervous, until eventually she had a panic attack in a shopping mall and had to hide in the bathroom. She sat there for a long time, head in her hands, wondering what she could do. She didn’t want to leave, but at the same time being abandoned to her fate frightened her. There had to be another option, surely? Perhaps if she just called up the Matriarchy and asked? It probably couldn't hurt…
She left the shopping mall bathroom and got into her car, then drove to the nearest park and made her way to the waterfall she knew was nearby. The sound of the running water would hopefully mask what she was saying, and the fact she would need to speak English, which had a chance of attracting suspicion. She dialled.
“Good morning,” yawned the voice on the other end, and it suddenly occurred to Comilō that it was probably around 3am in Kerlile. “Please state your KCID.”
“26027537.”
“Ah yes, I have you here, Com… ma’am. How may we help you?” the voice said, hesitating on her name, clearly uncertain how to pronounce it.
“I know we were told to return home, but… I have a daughter here, and I can’t leave her.”
“Ah, yes. We have that on your file. Well, good news for you, we have a special deal with the Xiomeran government. Can you wait on hold? I don’t know the details, someone else will need to speak to you. Hang on.”
The voice disappeared and was replaced by some pretty standard hold music, which at first caused Comilō to pause, and then to laugh aloud, unable to stop at how utterly mundane it was for something which was a helpline for secret agents.
“Hello, Comilō,” came another voice after about 5 minutes. “My name is Susan, I work for Councillor Hale. You don’t need to worry, you’re completely safe.”
Comilō was confused and uncertain, but there was something in Susan’s voice that relaxed her and made her believe that the woman was telling the truth - even though she couldn’t quite believe that there was any way she was safe.
“We have an arrangement with the Xiomeran government to allow any Aurora in the country who wishes to remain to stay,” explained Susan. “I understand you have a husband and daughter in the country? Is it your desire to remain in Xiomera due to your family?”
“Yes, but…” she glanced around and lowered her voice, “I don’t want to end up disappearing or something, and I worry.”
“You don’t need to worry about that. You need to get in contact with the Xiomeran authorities if you wish to remain, or we can do that for you. You’ll register with them and they’ll explain the further nuances of our arrangement. You will no longer be an employee of the Kerlian Intelligence Service and you will be free to live your life.”
“I… no offence, but this sounds like something an Eiria-assigned dreams when she’s seven,” said Comilō sceptically.
“I understand why you feel that way, but I promise you. You’ve seen how we have an alliance with Xiomera, they are the ones who asked for this deal and we accepted. If you wish further reassurance, I can ask Councillor Hale to contact you.”
“No, no, that won’t be necessary,” Comilō assured Susan. There was no way she was going to put a Councillor out of her way. “I’ll… I’ll contact the Xiomeran authorities.”
“Are you sure? We can do it for you, if you prefer.”
“No, I’d rather it came from me. Thank you,” Comilō said and then hung up the phone. She leaned back against a tree and breathed deeply. It was rather nerve-wracking, the thought of going to the authorities and admitting what she was, but if it meant she had a chance of keeping her life without having to live in fear… it was worth the risk.
LIDUN President 2024 | she/her | Puppets: Kerlile, Glanainn, Yesteria, Zongongia, Zargothrax