Wu/Misako/FSM understanders UNITE!

All I Want, Remus Lupin Fanfiction

Chapter Eighteen

Warnings: fluff, eventual smut, death, violence, swearing, age gap, slight angst, major spoilers for Deathly Hallows, fighting

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this! If you did, like, comment, and reblog! If you would like to be added to my taglist (permanent or for this series) tell me and I’ll put you on there!

You helped Remus hobble through the crowd to stand by Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. Harry was being held by Hagrid, who was sobbing. Voldemort was standing in front of Hagrid with Nagini draped over his shoulders.

The four of you yelled out to Harry. He didn't respond or move. Following your yells were others, shouting Harry's name and saying things about Voldemort and his followers.

"SILENCE!" Voldemort yelled. He shot out a spell and everyone around you seemed to fall silent. "It's over! Set him down at my feet Hagrid, where he belongs." He had a venomous smile that stretched across his pale face. Hagrid walked over and laid Harry down onto the grass gently.

Ron was stirring next to you, fist clenched and eyebrows furrowed.

"You see?" Voldemort said, walking back and forth next to Harry. "Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now? He was never anything more than a boy who relied on others to make sacrifices for him!"

"He beat you!" Ron yelled from beside you. That seemed to break the charm and everyone, including you, began to yell as well. Voldemort seemed pleased with all the cries and shouts. But of course, he wanted to talk again so he sent out a more powerful spell, immediately ceasing all voices.

"He was killed while sneaking off the castle grounds. While trying to save himself."

Everyone knew Voldemort was lying. Harry would never do such a thing. If anything, Harry was probably trying to sacrifice himself.

Neville was a short distance away from you and he was struggling. It looked like he was trying to break out of the spell. It worked, he ran at Voldemort but he wasn't quick enough. Voldemort disarmed Neville and he hit the ground with the sheer force of the spell.

"Who is this? Who has volunteered to show everyone what happens when you continue to resist my power?" Voldemort asked with a sly smile.

Bellatrix laughed from his side. "Neville Longbottom, Lord! He was the son of the Aurors. He's been causing trouble at school."

"Oh, yes. I remember you." Voldemort strolled over to stand above Neville's body. Neville was getting back to his feet slowly, obviously out of breath. "Aren't you a pureblood, boy?"

"So what if I am?" Neville spat back.

"You have spirit and bravery. You come from noble blood. You will make a fine Death Eater. We need people like you."

"I'll join you when hell freezes over! Dumbledore's Army!" Neville shouted.

The crowd erupted in shouts and cries of "Dumbledore's Army!" Voldemort's spell was once again broken.

Remus seemed to be gaining his own footing, no longer leaning on you as heavily. "Are you alright?" you whispered. He nodded and fixed his gaze on Voldemort. Voldemort had continued speaking but you were talking to Remus. When you looked back towards Neville, Voldemort stood above him with the Sorting Hat in his hands.

"There will no longer be Sorting at Hogwarts. You will be united under one House. The House of my ancestor, Salazar Slytherin." Voldemort pointed his wand at Neville and forced the hat onto his head. The Death Eaters had their wands positioned and ready to strike at anyone in the crowd.

Voldemort flicked his wand and the Sorting Hat was set afire on Neville's head.

"Neville!" you and Hermione shouted. You and many others seemed to surge forward at the same time, seeing Neville unable to move and on fire. A giant had come around the side of the building yelling, "HAGGER!" He must not have been one of Voldemort's, for a whole group of much larger giants charged him. Arrows began to fall upon Voldemort's side as Centaurs began to run from the trees.

Everyone on Hogwarts' side was running forward. Your attention was drawn to the spot Harry once was. He was gone. Neville had also broken out of his curse and reached into the Sorting Hat, pulling from it the Gryffindor sword. Neville swept the sword through the air and it sliced through Nagini.

Hagrid began to yell Harry's name and chaos ensued. Everyone was being pushed into the castle by the group. Death Eaters and defenders of Hogwarts shot spells at one another. Bodies dropped onto the ground as the mass of people moved.

You and Remus were in the middle of the mass and a moment after you entered the hall the house-elves ran in carrying knives and screaming. You were pushed into the Great Hall near Ginny, Hermione, and Luna. You all caught sight of Bellatrix and began to shoot spells at her. She was extremely quick, avoiding and blocking spells with ease.

The four of you shot stunning spells, disarming spells, and even Avada Kedavra at her but none fazed her. You lost sight of Remus and he had separated from you. Jets of light continued to pass between you, Luna, Ginny, Hermione, and Bellatrix. She sent out curse after curse, nearly hitting you multiple times.

Mrs. Weasley ran in from behind Bellatrix screaming, "NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!"

Bellatrix cackled as Mrs. Weasley pushed the four of you out of the way. You had never seen her so determined. It was absolutely terrifying to see the two duel, both trying to kill the other.

Bodies littered the ground. You had backed onto the wall next to Hermione, watching the fight between Molly and Bellatrix. Remus stumbled over to you, panting, but not appearing injured. You both cast a Shield over as many students as you could, wanting to protect them.

After doing as much as you could, you turned back to the two duels going on.

"What will happen to your children when I've killed you?" Bellatrix taunted. She was sneering while sending out curses and avoiding Mrs. Weasley's spells. "When Mummy's gone the same way as Freddie?"

You knew that did it for Molly. That had poked the fire even more. She screamed back, "You-will-never-touch-our-children-again!"

Bellatrix laughed maniacally. She lost focus for one second and Mrs. Weasley used that second to send the killing curse at her. She was hit right over the heart. Her smile faltered and she collapsed to the ground. You let out a shaky breath as Voldemort shrieked.

In a sudden movement, his three challengers were sent flying. He pointed his wand at Molly but not before someone shouted "Protego!"

You looked around for the source of the yell and so did everyone else. A few yards away was Harry. Harry was alive. You gasped, shocked and shaken.

Harry and Voldemort circled each other. "I don't want anyone to try to help. It has to be me. It's got to be like this," Harry spoke and everyone heard him.

"Potter doesn't mean that. He doesn't do that. Who will you use now Potter?" Voldemort hissed.

"Nobody." You don't have Horcruxes left. It's just you and me. Only one of us can survive. One of us will walk out of this."

"Horcruxes?" Remus breathed. Something seemed to click within Remus as he nodded to himself.

"One of us? And you think it will be you? You survived by accident and because of Dumbledore."

"It was an accident when my mother died to save me then? Accident when I fought you in the graveyard? Accident that I didn't defend myself tonight and still survived? I'm still fighting," Harry stated.

"YES! ACCIDENTS!" Voldemort screamed. Nobody moved. Everyone stayed against the wall and watched the scene happening in the middle of the Great Hall. "Nothing but accident and chance that you were able to weasel away and hide behind others that were much greater than you."

"You won't be killing anyone else. You won't be able to kill any of them ever again. Don't you understand? I was ready to die to stop you from hurting these people-"

"But you didn't!"

"-I meant to and I did precisely that. I did as my mother did. They're all protected from you. Did you notice none of your spells are binding? You can't touch them. You don't learn from your mistakes, Riddle."

Harry taunted Voldemort, saying he knew things that Voldemort did not. He told Voldemort about things you didn't know of. That Dumbledore had planned for Snape to kill him months ago. That Snape loved Harry's mother and had been on Dumbledore's side all along. That shocked you. Dumbledore always insisted that Snape was on his side but you didn't believe it and neither did Harry. If Snape loved Harry's mom and Voldemort killed her then of course he would turn.

Voldemort didn't seem convinced. "Dumbledore tried to keep the Elder Wand from me! He intended for Snape to be the true master of the wand! But I reached the wand before you! I killed Severus Snape three hours ago and now the Elder Wand is mine! Dumbledore's plan went wrong, Potter!"

"Yeah it did. You're right. But before you try to kill me, think about what you've done. Try to have some remorse, Riddle."

"What is this?" Voldemort seemed taken aback by that. It had set him off and shocked him.

"It's one last chance. It's all you've got left. I've seen what you'll be otherwise. Be a man. And try... try for some remorse."

Harry continued to explain to Voldemort. He told Voldemort that the wand wasn't his. It wasn't Snape's either. It belonged to Draco Malfoy. But that wasn't all. Harry had overpowered and taken Draco's wand while all of you were at Malfoy Manor. That meant that Harry was the master of the Elder Wand. All these new revelations shocked everyone in the room. So much information had been found in the past few months and it had all come down to this. Harry and Dumbledore had outsmarted Voldemort.

It had been hours since you arrived at Hogsmeade and the sun was coming up. Red-orange light poured into the room.

There were two yells, one saying "Avada Kedavra!"

The other shouting "Expelliarmus!"

There was a bang where the two spells collided and the Elder Wand flew from Voldemort's hand. Harry caught the wand. At the same time, Voldemort fell to the ground.

Taglist: @bellamy1998 @sxsalvatore @ottjord @lina1945

• Hugh Dowding

Air Chief Marshal Hugh Caswall Tremenheere Dowding, 1st Baron Dowding, GCB, GCVO, CMG was an officer in the Royal Air Force. He was Air Officer Commanding RAF Fighter Command during the Battle of Britain and is generally credited with playing a crucial role in Britain's defence.

Dowding was born at St. Ninian's Boys' Preparatory School in Moffat, Dumfriesshire, on April 24th, 1882 the son of Arthur John Caswall Dowding and Maud Caroline Dowding. Dowding was educated at St Ninian's School and Winchester College. He trained at the Royal Military Academy, Woolwich before being commissioned as a second lieutenant in the Royal Garrison Artillery on August 18th, 1900. Promoted to lieutenant in May 1902, Dowding served with the Royal Garrison Artillery at Gibraltar, in Ceylon and in Hong Kong before being posted to No. 7 Mountain Artillery Battery in India in 1904. After returning to the United Kingdom, he attended the Army Staff College 1912 before being promoted to captain in August 1913 and being posted with the Royal Garrison Artillery on the Isle of Wight later that year. After becoming interested in aviation, Dowding gained Aviator's Certificate no. 711 on December 19th, 1913 in a Vickers biplane at the Vickers School of Flying, Brooklands. He then attended the Central Flying School, where he was awarded his wings. Although added to the Reserve List of the Royal Flying Corps (RFC), Dowding returned to the Isle of Wight to resume his Royal Garrison Artillery duties. However, this arrangement was short lived and in August 1914, he joined the RFC as a pilot on No. 7 Squadron.

Dowding transferred to No. 6 Squadron in October 1914 and then, after two weeks as a staff officer in France, became a Flight Commander, first with No. 9 Squadron and then with No. 6 Squadron. He became commanding officer of the Wireless Experimental Establishment at Brooklands in March 1915 and went on to be commanding officer of No. 16 Squadron in July 1915. After the Battle of the Somme, Dowding clashed with General Hugh Trenchard, the commander of the RFC, over the need to give pilots some rest and recuperation. Promoted to major on December 30th, 1915, Dowding was recalled to England in January 1916, and, having been promoted to temporary lieutenant colonel on February 1st, 1916 was given command of 7 Wing at Farnborough later that month. He transferred to the command of 9 wing at Fienvillers in June 1916. Returning to England, he was promoted to temporary colonel on January 1st, 1917 on appointment as commander of the Southern Group Command and promoted to temporary brigadier-general on June 23rd, 1917 before being given command of the southern training brigade in August 1917. He was sent to York as chief staff officer to the RAF's senior administrative officer in the area in April 1918. He was appointed a Companion of the Order of St Michael and St George in January 1919. Dowding was given a permanent commission in the RAF on August 1st, 1919 with the rank of group captain. He commanded No. 16 Group from October 1919 and then No. 1 Group from February 1920 where he was responsible for organising two of the annual air displays at Hendon. He was promoted to air commodore on January 1st, 1922, and served as chief staff officer at Inland Area headquarters at Uxbridge from February 1922 before being appointed Chief Staff Officer for RAF Iraq Command in August 1924. Dowding was an accomplished skier, winner of the first ever National Slalom Championship, and president of the Ski Club of Great Britain from 1924 to 1925. In May 1926 Dowding was appointed director of training at the Air Ministry. He was appointed a Companion of the Order of the Bath on January 2nd, 1928 and promoted to air vice-marshal in January 1929.

Trenchard sent him to Palestine and Transjordan to study security problems caused by Arab–Jewish unrest: his reports, which gained Trenchard's approval, were a cause of further career advancement. Dowding became Air Officer Commanding Fighting Area, Air Defence of Great Britain in December 1929 and then joined the Air Council as Air Member for Supply and Research in September 1930. Dowding's time in this office coincided with a period of rapid development in aircraft design and a growing fear that another major war was on the horizon. Although without scientific or technical training, he displayed a great capacity for understanding technical matters. He was promoted to air marshal in January 1933 and advanced to Knight Commander of the Order of the Bath in June 1933. In July 1936 Dowding was appointed commanding officer of the newly created RAF Fighter Command, and was perhaps the one important person in Britain, and perhaps the world, who did not agree with British Prime Minister Stanley Baldwin's 1932 declaration that "The bomber will always get through". He conceived and oversaw the development of the "Dowding system". This consisted of an integrated air defence system which included radar (whose potential Dowding was among the first to appreciate), human observers (including the Royal Observer Corps), who filled crucial gaps in what radar was capable of detecting at the time (the early radar systems, for example, did not provide good information on the altitude of incoming German aircraft), raid plotting, and radio control of aircraft. The whole network was linked in many cases by dedicated telephone cables buried sufficiently deeply to provide protection against bombing. The network had its centre at RAF Bentley Priory, a converted country house on the outskirts of London. The system as a whole later became known as Ground-controlled interception (GCI). Dowding also introduced modern aircraft into service during the pre war period, including the eight gun Spitfire and Hurricane. He is also credited with having fought the Air Ministry so that fighter planes were equipped with bullet proof wind shields. He was promoted to air chief marshal on January 1st, 1937 and appointed a Knight Grand Cross of the Royal Victorian Order in January 1937.

At the time of his retirement in June 1939, Dowding was asked to stay on until March 1940 because of the tense international situation. He was again permitted to continue through the Battle of Britain, first until July and finally until November 1940. In 1940, Dowding, nicknamed "Stuffy" by his men for his alleged lack of humour, proved unwilling to sacrifice aircraft and pilots in the attempt to aid Allied troops during the Battle of France. He, along with his immediate superior Sir Cyril Newall, then Chief of the Air Staff, resisted repeated requests from Winston Churchill to weaken the home defence by sending precious squadrons to France. When the Allied resistance in France collapsed, he worked closely with Air Vice-Marshal Keith Park, the commander of 11 Fighter Group, in organising cover for the evacuation of the British Expeditionary Force at Dunkirk. Through the summer and autumn of 1940 in the Battle of Britain, Dowding's Fighter Command resisted the attacks of the Luftwaffe. Beyond the critical importance of the overall system of integrated air defence which he had developed for Fighter Command, his major contribution was to marshal resources behind the scenes (including replacement aircraft and air crew) and to maintain a significant fighter reserve, while leaving his subordinate commanders' hands largely free to run the battle in detail. Dowding was known for his humility and great sincerity. Fighter Command pilots came to characterise Dowding as one who cared for his men and had their best interests at heart. Dowding often referred to his "dear fighter boys" as his "chicks": indeed his son Derek was one of them. Because of his brilliant detailed preparation of Britain's air defences for the German assault, and his prudent management of his resources during the battle, Dowding is today generally given the credit for Britain's victory in the Battle of Britain.

Dowding's subsequent downfall has been attributed by some to his singlemindedness and perceived lack of diplomacy and political savoir faire in dealing with intra-RAF challenges and intrigues, most obviously the still, even now, hotly debated Big Wing controversy in which a number of senior and active service officers had argued in favour of large set-piece air battles with the Luftwaffe as an alternative to Dowding's successful Fabian strategy. Another reason often cited for his removal, but characterised by some contemporary commentators more as a pretext, was the difficulty of countering German nighttime bombing raids on British cities. Dowding himself showed that he had a good grasp of night fighter defence and was planning a defence system against night bombing in a letter he wrote some time after the Battle of Britain. However, there was great political and public pressure during the Blitz for something to be done, and Fighter Command's existing resources without, as yet, airborne radar, proved woefully inadequate. Dowding was advanced to Knight Grand Cross of the Order of the Bath in October 1940. He unwillingly relinquished command on November 24th, 1940 and was replaced by Big Wing advocate Sholto Douglas. Churchill tried to soften the blow by putting him in charge of the British Air Mission to the US, responsible for the procurement of new aircraft types. After leaving Fighter Command, Dowding was sent on special duty to the United States for the Ministry of Aircraft Production, but there he made himself unpopular with his outspokenness. On his return he headed a study into economies of RAF manpower before retiring from the Royal Air Force in July 1942. He was elevated to the peerage, as Baron Dowding of Bentley Priory on June 2nd, 1943.

Later in life, because of his belief that he was unjustly treated by the RAF, Dowding became increasingly bitter. He approved Robert Wright's book Dowding and the Battle of Britain which argued that a conspiracy of Big Wing proponents, had engineered his sacking from Fighter Command. In the wake of the debate that followed, the RAF passed him over for promotion to Marshal of the Royal Air Force. In his retirement, Dowding became actively interested in Spiritualism, both as a writer and speaker. His first book on the subject, Many Mansions, was written in 1943, followed by Lychgate (1945), The Dark Star and God's Magic. Rejecting conventional Christianity, he joined the Theosophical Society which advocated belief in reincarnation. He wrote of meeting dead "RAF boys" in his sleep – spirits who flew fighters from mountain-top runways made of light. In 1951, Dowding laid the foundation stone of the Chapel of St George at RAF Biggin Hill, now London Biggin Hill Airport, in memory of fallen airmen. Dowding and his second wife Baroness Dowding were both anti-vivisectionists and in 1973 Britain's National Anti-Vivisection Society founded the Lord Dowding Fund for Humane Research in his honour. Dowding became a vegetarian, based on his beliefs as a theosophist and spiritualist. Although he was a vegetarian, he believed that "animals will be killed to satisfy human needs for many a long day to come", and he made several appeals in the House of Lords for the humane killing of animals intended for food. He was also a member of the Fairy Investigation Society. Although he knew that people considered him a crank for his belief in fairies, Dowding believed that fairies "are essential to the growth of plants and the welfare of the vegetable kingdom". Dowding died at his home in Royal Tunbridge Wells, Kent, on February 15th, 1970 at the age of 87. His body was cremated and its ashes were placed below the Battle of Britain Memorial Window in the Royal Air Force chapel in Westminster Abbey. Dowding's son Derek inherited his titles.

Summary: Strike three.

Word Count: 2,600

Warnings: canon-typical violence

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

I begged of a star to throw me a beam or two

Wished on a star and asked for a dream or two

I looked for ev'ry loveliness, it all came true

I wished on the moon for you

• I Wished on the Moon - Frank Sinatra •

The five of you had split up the new assignment, each person responsible for a different part of the poster-making process. The poster itself consisted of the words: “Maintain Order - Join Us Today” written in dramatic red lettering, accompanied by a rendering of a caped stormtrooper. Akilah and Soren started by creating the outline. Takoda and Rilea focused on distribution strategies. You, as the only “experienced” artist, were put in charge of the colors and details.

“This looks good,” said Takoda, checking over the finished poster.

Rilea rolled her eyes. “Especially having finished this under the given time constraints.”

Soren piped up. “I still think the colors could’ve been a bit more accurate.”

You winced at the pointed jab towards your work.

“Sor…” Akilah gave him a pleading look.

He held up his hands defensively. “What, Kila? I’m just stating facts!”

She sighed and shook her head before you finally spoke up.

“I think we did the best we could with the time we had.” Taking a deep breath, you continued. “Now, I’m not sure about you all, but I could really use some sleep.”

Soren stood and began walking to the door. “Fine, go sleep… while you can, at least. We meet with Hux at 9. Don’t be late,” he said with a final glare.

You tried not to take his words to heart, after all, it was his angst-filled duty to speak in such a way. However, you also knew the importance of tomorrow’s meeting with Hux, and the consequences you were sure to face if anything went wrong.

The door shut, bringing you back to the present.

“Don’t mind him,” said Akilah, comfortingly. “He’s all bark and no bite.”

“Yeah, I know,” you replied. “I’m just a bit on edge. I’ll be fine.”

After saying goodnight to the rest of the crew, you headed back to your room. You realized you had forgotten to eat dinner, but your tired limbs didn’t have enough strength to walk to the cafeteria.

Lying in bed, you thought of Lothal, like you so often did. You remembered how your mom would always make you eat three balanced meals a day, even if you were feeling sick, tired, or sad. Though you may not have appreciated it at the time, you now missed her constant pestering and worried compulsions.

Here, no one knew you, not really. Even your new coworkers would probably only mourn for a day or two before moving on if anything ever happened to you.

You curled in on yourself, thinking that maybe physical comfort would eventually lead to mental comfort. It was one of those nights where you didn’t want to sleep because you knew that when you did, you would wake up and be forced to face the day. Despite your best efforts, your exhaustion from the day’s activities overpowered you, and your eyes began to feel heavy. Giving into sleep, you internally recited a lullaby your mother used to sing to you and your brother:

When the moon’s beneath, the sun you will meet

Who warms the ground beneath your feet

But starry skies will meet your eyes

Only in darkness before you rise.

Always with one, you need the other

Just as a sister is to a brother.

So lay your head in peaceful sleep

With the moon above and sun beneath…

As you lulled yourself into a dreamless sleep as your mother’s echo continued to meander through your troubled mind.

——————————————

You opened your eyes slowly, taking in the ceiling above your head. You flailed one arm around, attempting to shut off your alarm, only to realize you hadn’t been woken by one.

Kriff. Kriff, kriffity, kriffing, kriff.

You overslept. Of course you had. As if the universe felt it hadn’t screwed you over enough this week.

After another moment of staring at your ceiling with a sense of complete and utter dread, you brought yourself to look at the clock to see how much damage had been done. 8:57. It could be worse, you thought, but it also could be a whole lot better.

You raced to get dressed, brushed your teeth, and collected the materials you needed for your meeting with Hux. You grabbed your datapad to discover 15 unread messages. You opened the first few:

Sor: Where are you?!!

Koda: The meeting is about to start!

Kila: Are you okay??

Rilea: Please hurry...

You didn’t stop to read the rest and ran out the door, sprinting to Hux’s office.

———————————————

When you finally arrived, you didn’t know what time it was, but you knew you were late. Hux’s door was closed, but you could almost sense the anxiety emitting from the room. You stood there, unable to bring yourself to open the door, before feeling a dark presence behind you.

“Late, are we?” spoke a distorted voice.

You didn’t need to turn around to figure out who it was.

“No, Commander Ren. I mean- yes! Yes, I am. Sorry,” you rambled, terrified.

Despite this admittance, you still didn’t move.

Strange, you thought. But you didn’t. That wasn’t your own mind speaking — at least you didn’t think it was… Maybe you were going crazy. And as if you hadn’t embarrassed yourself enough, you found yourself speaking:

“Do you- do you know if we have to knock?” you squeaked.

The Commander merely stared at you through his mask, head tilted slightly to the side, before he waved his hand. The door slammed open, an invisible force pushing you through unceremoniously. The Commander followed behind, cape billowing, invisibly shutting the door as he did.

You looked up to see your four coworkers huddled in one corner of the room, and Hux’s flushed face seething in the other.

“I’m- I’m sorry I’m late, General. I thought I set my alarm, but because of all the work we did yesterday I was just so, so tired and- I guess I completely forgot.” You stared at your feet.

Silence ensued.

Akilah spoke up from the back of the room, attempting to distract Hux from your tardiness. “General, we completed the assignment as instructed.” She pulled out the finalized posters and hesitantly set them on the desk in front of her.

“Do you expect me to walk all the way across the room to retrieve those?!” he forced through clenched teeth. “Bring them to me, now!”

Akilah stood, frozen in terror, much like you had been just moments ago. To your surprise, Soren stepped forward, glancing at Akilah briefly, before grabbing the papers and handing them to Hux. Hux snatched the papers out of his hand and Soren silently turned to walk back towards the rest of the group. Akilah caught his glance, giving him a grateful smile, which he returned with a small nod before turning back to you, Hux, and the Commander.

Hux flipped through the papers violently. You didn’t know whether to move towards your friends or stay where you were. You had almost forgotten about the Commander’s presence behind you; he seemed calm compared to Hux's violent demeanor.

You decided to try and take a few subtle steps towards your coworkers while Hux was distracted, but he immediately saw your movement and stood, knocking over his chair in the process. You stopped in your tracks. He slowly walked towards you, knowing his pace was only escalating the terror you felt. You stood your ground, wanting more than anything to disappear.

Hux eyed you like he did in the hallway the other day. You saw Akilah tense up, as if preparing to come to your defence, but Rilea put an arm in front of her, holding her back. You were grateful — you didn’t want anyone else to get hurt because of your repeated trivial mistakes.

Hux reached his hand towards your face, making you flinch. He cupped your cheek roughly before grabbing your hair. You hadn’t remembered to put it up into a bun before you left your room, defying direct orders, again.

“I thought I told you to take care of this, ” he said, referencing your hair.

“Yes sir- General. I was going to, but then the alarm- and the running…” You could barely explain yourself through your chattering teeth. “I usually wear it like this on Lothal - I just wasn’t thinking…”

“You are not on Lothal anymore,” he spat, releasing his hold on your hair. “You may, however, come in handy when it comes to communicating with the scum there.”

You tensed at the reference of your friends and family as scum. Hux didn’t know anything about you or your planet. You knew he was just trying to get a rise out of you, and you hated yourself for letting him succeed.

“They’re not scum,” you replied, as calmly as you could. “They’re people with hard-earned jobs and families. They fought admirably to protect their planet; all they desire is peace.”

“Those sound like Resistance sentiments,” said Hux, threateningly.

More like basic human empathy, you thought.

The Commander, still hovering by the door, shifted slightly on his feet.

“No, no…” You attempted to tread more carefully. “I just think that maybe there is a way to unite the galaxy without using so much… violence,” you nervously suggested.

Hux eyed you intently. The room was silent except for the sound of your labored breathing.

“On Lothal,” he started, seemingly happy with what he was about to ask. “Who did you stay with?”

You were taken aback by the question. You didn’t want to give him too much information about your parents — you knew he had the power to eliminate them right then and there.

“Just my parents,” you replied, staring at the floor.

Hux smirked devilishly. “What are their names?”

“You wouldn’t know them. We were just common farmers. And my father is an artist — though he mostly focuses on abstract painting.”

“What. Are. Their. Names,” Hux asked again, impatiently, pausing after each word.

“Why do you need to know?” You began to panic. “I’m telling the truth. They didn’t do anything wrong!”

“That is for me to decide,” he continued. “Are they Resistance sympathizers?”

“No!” You were frantic at this point. “No, they’re good people, innocent! I swear to the stars!”

He crossed his arms. “I don’t believe you.”

“Please!” you begged. “I’m telling the truth!”

“We’ll see about that,” Hux said, pulling out a datapad.

“No, wait, please! What are you doing?” you pleaded. “They aren’t Resistance!”

“Why should I believe you?!” he growled, stepping towards you until your noses almost touched.

“Because the resistance killed my little brother!” you cried, losing your temper. Emotion flooded from you and you ran your hands through your hair, frustrated. “He was ten. He was only ten.”

Your voice faltered as angry tears began to fall from your face.

Hux was not sympathetic to your pain. “Stop your sob story, I’ve heard too many of those lately. Your brother should’ve known better than to have involved himself in matters that he couldn’t handle.”

And that was all you needed to explode.

“How dare you talk about him like that! You know don't know anything about me, or my family!” You brought your fist down on the table next to you, pain shooting up your arm.

Next thing you know, Hux was flying across the room, hitting the wall next to your coworkers with a thud, before crumpling to the ground. A few glasses of water and a nearby vase shattered into pieces. You searched the room, looking for an explanation, but somewhere, deep inside, you knew that you were the culprit.

You looked down at your hand, flexing and unflexing the muscles, confused. Nothing like this had ever happened to you before. You locked eyes with your coworkers, who stared back at you with open mouths. You were visibly shocked, shaking violently. How did I do that? you thought. Am I dreaming? Please, stars, let me be dreaming.

But your questions were crushed as Hux regained his composure, rubbing the back of his head, before turning his attention back on you. Fury burned in his eyes as you thought to yourself:

This is it.

He reached towards the back of his belt, withdrawing a blaster. You closed your eyes, knowing what was coming…

But nothing came.

You hesitantly opened one of your eyes, then the other, only to see a wall of black in front of you.

Am I dead?

No, a voice replied.

You looked up, confused, only to see none other than Commander Ren standing between you and Hux. His back was to you, leaving his cape and silver helmet to occupy your vision.

“Stop,” he ordered Hux, who still had his blaster pointed at you.

“Excuse me?!” Hux scowled. “And why exactly would I do that?”

The Commander waved a hand in front of Hux’s face.

“You will leave this room with the posters and forget this ever happened,” he spoke.

“I will leave this room with the posters and forget this ever happened,” Hux repeated.

The Commander turned towards your coworkers before telling them, “And you will do the same.”

“And we will do the same,” they mimicked, before leaving the room behind Hux. For a moment, you swore you saw Akilah glance at you with concerned eyes as she walked past. You shivered before turning around to face Commander Ren.

“You are strong with the Force,” he spoke, his low voice vibrating through his helmet.

“No, no, I’m normal!” You cringed at your choice of words. You basically insinuated that the Commander was not normal, which, he wasn’t, but-

“Being ‘normal’ has nothing to do with being one with the Force,” he stated, stalking towards you. “Who else knows of your abilities?”

“No one. I didn’t even know about my abilities until a few moments ago…” You stared at your hands, still in a state of disbelief.

“Don’t attempt to lie to me. It will not work,” he replied.

“I’m not lying,” you stated as firmly as your could.

“Let’s test that, shall we?”

You didn’t like where this was headed. He moved one of his hands towards your head and you flinched, backing into the wall behind you. His hand paused for a moment. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” he said. You weren’t sure, but you swore you heard the smallest hint of regret in his voice.

And with that, you squeezed your eyes shut as you felt a foreign presence in your mind. It poked and prodded, winding its way through your thoughts and memories. You did your best to block the paths, seal the gateways, and close the doors he attempted to infiltrate, and luckily, you could tell that you were somewhat successful. The Commander was straining, his gloved hand shaking in concentration. Gaining confidence in your mental capabilities, you pushed harder, forcing out every invisible tendril of his mind until nothing remained.

You opened your eyes as the Commander stumbled backwards slightly, a distorted panting emanating from his visor. You took a few steps back, unsure of what his reaction would be to your blatant disobedience.

In two large strides he made his way back to you. You tripped over your own feet, landing on the shards of broken glass from the vase you broke moments earlier. You winced, continuing to stare directly into the abyss of black and silver that hid the face of Kylo Ren.

Without a word, he waved his hand in front of your face. You briefly heard the word sleep enter your mind, before closing your eyes and succumbing to the Force-induced darkness.

———————————

Previous || Masterlist || Next

Under the General (Part 3)

Word Count: 2435

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

Summary: About a year after The Rise of Skywalker, peace in the galaxy is fragile. The Resistance is faced with new diplomatic problems as they try to maintain the peace. Trade routes are especially tricky and has forced Y/N to test her abilities as a negotiator. Due to tirelessly, negotiating with different planets and systems, Y/N has become the new face of peace and hope. Does this make General Poe Dameron jealous?

Genre: Adventure / Fluff / Angst

Part 1 Part 2    Part 4 Part 5 Epilogue (Complete)

The first time you woke up isn’t awful. Your head hurts, your mouth is dry and you feel disoriented. However, once you become fully awake, you realized that you are strapped to a comfortable and cushioned chair. Before you is a table set with herbal drinks and little pieces of food. The last thing you notice is Nix sitting across from you.

Your first thought was one of relief. Nix Altross, your friend, would help you. Nix, your fellow comrade, would explain what’s happening. Nix, master spy second only to you, would keep you safe. These thoughts were second nature to you but they began to evaporate as you remembered that Nix shot you in the alley. The emotions you were feeling must have been plain on your face because Nix sighed as your expression became one of betrayal.

He began talking. His voice was charming, hiding his guilt. It seemed to lull your attention in and out of focus. Your head was too fuzzy for you to properly follow the conversation. Bits and pieces of Nix’s words were sticking in your mind. Nix was explain something. He didn’t like General Dameron. He wouldn’t tolerate a new galactic order lead by a hot headed pilot. Nix felt like he was undervalued by the Generals. He had the backing of the outer rim bounty hunters. He had two old battleships under his command. With his small armada, he controlled the farming planets. He was the reason the negotiations didn’t workout on Coruscant. He was gathering support from underneath the Resistance’s nose.

“It wont- Nix, this will not work,” you managed to get out. Your mouth felt like dried cotton. Nix’s face pinched in anger, but he quickly regained his charming demeanor. He stood and helped you drink something. You didn’t know what it was but the liquid felt soothing and cold. You heard Nix saying something as you began to slip into unconsciousness again. He wanted you to join him.

The second time you woke up was promising. You were tucked in a bed, free of restraint. The door was open. The room was empty besides a bed, a table and you. You felt safe enough to take your time trying to clear your mind. You noticed that on the table was a small cup of something warm. There was steam rising from the glass. Someone must have just been here. Where were they?

You had to leave. Without thinking about a plan, you threw yourself out of bed and began running down the halls before someone came back to the room. Luckily, the halls were empty. You were still unsteady on your feet and you tripped every few yards. The world was reeling but you knew you had to contact the Resistance. You tried to sort out your thoughts and form a plan. If only you could think clearly.

A siren began to ring throughout the long hallway you were in. Something must have happened. Did Nix realize you escaped? The doorway at the end of the hall began to close. Running, you threw yourself through the small opening but found that you were in another dead end. Voices were nearby. Someone was calling your name. Instinctually, you threw yourself into one of the many rooms in the dead end hallway.

It was a bedroom. You didn’t know whose nor did you care. Like the room you woke up in, this bedroom had a single table and a small bed. However, luck finally seemed to be on your side because you noticed a comm sitting on the table. It wasn’t much but it was enough to send a message to the Resistance. You cleared your head enough to punch in the code that would ensure your message made it to the Assembly of Generals.

“I don’t know where I am,” you began, “Nix took me from my undercover mission on Coruscant. He does not serve the Resistance. There seems to-” you were cut off by the door behind you opening. You hid the comm behind your back. You prayed that you could hit send on the message without seeing the buttons.

“What have we here?” Standing in the doorway was Nix, armed with a blaster in his hand, another strapped to his hip and two bounty hunters you didn’t recognize. They weren’t human and in the dim light of the room, the shadows made them seem menacing.

With your free hand you checked to see if your blasters were still strapped to your thighs, but Nix was smart. He must have taken them from you already. Like a wolf cornering it’s prey, Nix strolled towards you.

“Little girl,” Nix cooed as he grabbed you by the arm, “we’re going to have to take care of you. Perhaps a good memory wipe will do the trick?” Nix dragged you out of the room by the arm. You allowed the comm to slip out of your gloved hand and onto the floor, hoping no one noticed. You tried to distract the bounty hunters and Nix by fighting back with everything you could. Yet, you were still weak and Nix was much taller and significantly stronger than you. Still, you fought against him. He tried to drag you through the hall but you were not making it easy for him. Finally, he threw you on the ground in front of him and leveled a blaster at your head. Nix’s snarl was the last thing you saw before you hit the ground.

The third time you woke up was much, much worse than the first two. You were suspended a few feet in the air. Your bare arms and feet were restrained so that your body formed an x in the air. The anti gravitational cuffs made you feel weightless but your shoulders ached. You only felt worse when you met Nix’s gaze. He was almost eye level with you and he sneered when he saw you were conscious. His dark clothes and elegantly kept hair only added to the chilling demeanor that seemed to surround him.

“I’m glad you’re awake,” Nix taunted, “we are going to discredit the Resistance and General Dameron’s attempts at uniting the galaxy under him.”

“We are going to do no such thing,” you spat, “Poe isn’t uniting anything ‘under him’ he’s just trying to lead the galaxy to peace!” Your voice was rough and you suspected that you were dehydrated. You hoped that Poe had made it off of Coruscant safely.

“Oh? We’re calling him ‘Poe’ now?” Nix’s voice was cold. “Perhaps more things have been under him than I realized.” You could feel your cheeks turn scarlet at Nix’s implication. He rolled his eyes and patted your cheek.

“Don’t worry,” Nix said, “I’m sure the General is very seductive - you wouldn’t be the first to fall under his spell. You know how mad he was when he found out you weren’t where he left you on Coruscant? I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so angry. Even at the most recent Assembly of the Generals, General Dameron was more tense and hot headed than usual.” There was a meeting of Generals and you weren’t there? How long has it been since Nix took you from Coruscant?

“Poe is safe?” You knew you shouldn’t have asked but you couldn’t stop yourself.

“Not after the stunt you pulled with the comm,” Nix answered, “The good General Dameron received your message about me and presented it to the whole group. I had no choice but to make an escape. I took your precious General as my hostage at gunpoint. He’s a few floors below us in a similar prison.” Nix gestured at your restraints and continued. “You are going to announce that the Resistance has been infiltrated by old Empire agents. As the new face of the Resistance and the Politician of Peace, people will believe you. You will accuse the Resistance leaders of betrayal. Chief among them is the war hero, Poe Dameron. You will urge all free planets to follow your fellow diplomat, yours truly. We will broadcast this message throughout the systems and you and I will rebuild the age of peace to our liking.”

“We aren’t going to do anything!” Your words came out as a cry more than a declaration of defiance.

“Yes, we are, dear,” Nix cooed as though he were talking to a youngling, “Do you remember that memory loss weapon I told you about not so long ago?” You knew what he was talking about. In fact, you had mentioned it to Poe on Coruscant.

“Do your worst, Nix,” you said with a grimace. Nix said something to you. A word, or a phrase, you weren’t really listening. You watched as Nix nodded to someone behind you and the next thing you felt was pain. Unadulterated pain filled your whole body but it felt particularly concentrated in your head. Your skull was going to fracture into a million little pieces but it was over before you could draw breath to scream.

“What did I just tell you?” Nix held your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him.

“I was the last one to speak,” you panted through gritted teeth, “I said, ‘do your worst’ and then you…” you trailed off. Something wasn’t right. Nix looked triumphant and you felt disoriented again.

“What you just felt were the effects of memory loss weapon. Painful, no?” Nix asked with a sweet smile. You began to shake with fear because you understood that Nix was going to wipe your memory clear. Still, you wouldn’t give in to his demands.

“I endured Kylo Ren’s wrath,” you hissed, “do your worst, Nix.” As if remembering what you had endured during the war, Nix traced the scars along your forearms. The sensation of his skin against yours was enough to make you sick. He took a step towards you and spoke softly in your ear.

“Ah, but see,” Nix said with a pur, “I know you can take it. But what about your dear General? Will the great leader, Poe Dameron, be able to last long under that kind of stress? Do you think - if he survives that is - that Dameron will be the same man without his memories? Y/n, if you do not do as I tell you, dear, I will break his mind. I will broadcast it to all systems in the galaxy instead of your confession. The image of the broken General will leave the Resistance in pieces and people will flood to my side. So, we can dismantle the Resistance without harming your General or we can do it by destroying him.”

You knew, as well as Nix, that you were thoroughly trapped.

What you did not know was that Nix was lying to you.

Poe Dameron was safe in the resistance base. During the first twenty four hours of your disappearance, Poe became very busy. After you disappeared from the street on Coruscant, Poe went to the meeting place to find the farmer, dead and you were nowhere in sight. Poe sprinted back through the streets and towards his ship, BB-8 on his heels.

After calling Finn on the comms and confirming that you were MIA, an emergency meeting of the Generals was called. It took Altross the longest to arrive and to Poe’s annoyance, action had been delayed for more than a day and a half. Nix entered the meeting just as Poe’s comm began to buzz.

“Y/n is missing,” Poe blurted out as Altross strolled towards his seat. Altross’ steps didn’t even falter. Of course the diplomatic prick was emotionless. What had Poe expected from this slimy politician? Yet, while Altross and Poe had never gotten along, Poe knew that he was close to you. He hoped that Altross would be willing to set aside their differences to bring you home. Finn picked up his comm, which happened to begin buzzing at the same time as Poe’s. Altross stood by his seat, looking down at Poe. Still ignoring the buzzing of his own comm and that of a few others in the room, Poe met Altross’ gaze.

“You lost her?” Altross’ words were icy to say the least. Poe knew he deserved it. You were his to protect and he had failed. Before Poe could utter an apology, Finn interrupted. He held his comm in the middle of the table to show a transmission of none other than you. Poe’s eyes were glued to the hologram and he took little note of Altross’ muttered excuse to leave the room.

“I don’t know where I am,” you began. Poe watched the small blue hologram of you flicker in and out. Judging by the quality of the recording, this was made on a low grade piece of tech. This transmission may have taken hours to arrive. Poe began to shake his head as you hurriedly spoke. “Nix took me from my undercover mission on Coruscant. He does not serve the Resistance. There seems to-” Poe was horrified when you were cut off by Altross in the doorway of the hologram. His voice was as sharp as daggers and Poe watched as he crossed to you.

“What have we here?” he asked, armed with a blaster in his hand, another strapped to his hip and two bounty hunters Poe didn’t recognize. Altross continued to walk toward you. You seemed so defenseless.

“Little girl,” Altross cooed as he grabbed you by the arm, “we’re going to have to take care of you. Perhaps a good memory wipe will do the trick?” Memory wipe? Poe remembered you talking about some form of interrogation that involved memory loss. He remembered that you claimed it was incredibly painful and most did not live through the procedure. Poe was livid by the time he watched Altross grab you. The transmission ended just before Altross laid his hand on your arm.

“Nix took me from my undercover mission on Coruscant. He does not serve the Resistance.”

The whole room was silent. Poe was running out of the room before anyone could stop him. Although, from the footsteps he heard behind him, he knew he wasn’t alone. Poe was going to wring Altross’ neck.

Connix watched as Poe and Finn dashed out of the room. BB-8 whirled after them. She and General Calrissian shook their head. They knew Altross would be long gone by now.

“Can we trace the location of the transmission?” Calrissian asked Connix.

“Only if we work quickly,” Connix dashed out of the room to bring the comm with the transmission to one of the hackers on the ship. The Resistance only had a few trust worthy hackers, but they were the best in the galaxy. If anyone could find your location, it would be them.

Calrissian was left in the meeting room alone.

“May the force be with you, y/n,” he muttered under his breath.

PART 4

A/N: These chapters just keep getting longer and more fun to write! Thank you guys for all the kind words. Chapter 4 and 5 may take a little longer to write, but they will be here before you know it. Let me know what you think, please!

Abduction - Chapter 22

I need to write at the library more often. It’s a good place. I just- can I say that public libraries are just so dang great!

As always, any feedback is always very appreciated. You have no idea how appreciated! Thanks for all the support so far!

Chapter 1     Previous Chapter       Next Chapter

***

“They said what?!” Demanded Kylee. Thurrin suspected that she wasn’t really looking for an answer as she paced up and down the stall in the repair bay. Nevertheless, Ricardo reviewed the gist of the meetings that he and Thurrin had just been through anyway.

Most of it sounded like a bunch of diplomatic nonsense. It was an amazement and a wonder to Thurrin that humans got anything done with all the “red tape” as Ricardo put it- that their leaders had to go through. It didn’t help either that Earth apparently has hundreds of governments. Granted, the Galactic Confederation usually dealt directly with the United-Earth Space Embassy, or USE (humans love their acronyms), but when the news reached Earth that two of their own had been abducted, the entire planet went into an uproar.

“They said,” Ricardo continued, “that until they know more about the situation, no one is to do anything. They don’t want a galactic incident to happen because they didn’t have the full story.” The explanation didn’t help Kylee’s mood. “So they’re just going to sit on their fat butts and not do anything then?!” Thurrin flinched at the outburst. She had never seen a human get so angry. She flickered with yellow and she felt a few sparks fly off her fur. She had seen Mike and Wenona bare their teeth before, but that was with them smiling. This… the furious expression Kylee had now was something completely different and it scared her.

“It’s not just the Embassy, it’s all of Earth,” Ricardo went on, trying to keep his voice level and calm. Thurrin wondered if he was doing it so Kylee would mirror his behavior. If so, it wasn’t working. “Everyone’s worried about the alliance with the Galactic Confederation, some want to keep it, others agree with what Mike said, that it was made too quickly and with too little information about our options. Oh, and those extremists are back at it again with the isolationism rallies. And then, different governments have a lot of business deals within the alliance or others want ties outside of it and see this as a chance to break from the GC,” Ricardo sighed and started massaging his forehead. “Honestly, it’s a hot political mess right now.”

Kylee kicked at a crate that peeked out from under the workbench. It was empty and her kick sent it rolling under the tables and into another crew’s repair station. It was stopped by a Spotted Helzu. They held it out to try to return it, but no one took it, so they sat it down and continued listening to the conversation. There seemed to be quite a crowd listening in actually, Thurrin noticed. It made sense. This was pretty big news. 

The Galactic Confederation’s alliance with Earth was only a few standard solar cycles old, but it had led to a lot of changes - a lot of good changes and improvements throughout the Confederation. Between trade with Earth for various goods and supplies as well as having been granted mining permissions in their solar system’s meteor belt, there’d been a huge economic boom. Humans had also become an integral part of Galactic Confederation crews, science and engineering teams, and had been integral components to various rescue and relief efforts in emergency situations. To lose them now would be like losing an arm when they had just started getting used to that arm.

The conversation went on. "So basically, what you're saying is that those two are going to be left to the Burnti?"

Ricardo tilted his head from side to side. "I… I'd like to think no, but…"

Thurrin looked between the two of them sadly. The group around them was silent, with a few murmurs on the edges. Her ears picked up bits of hushed questions -  they seemed to wonder if humans would really leave their own behind.

Kylee must have picked up on the questions too and she wasn't having it. "If they won't do their job, then we will." She grabbed her tools off the workbench and a knapsack of sorts from underneath. She unzippered the bag and started shoving in whatever could be useful.

“Um, what?” Ricardo slowly got to his feet. The murmurs and whispers of the surrounding groups intensified.

“You heard me.” She swung the bag onto her back and started walking towards the exit. “We’re going to rescue them.”

Thurrin’s fur flickered with apprehension, but also a bit of excitement. Was she serious? Could they do that? Could they actually do that? Oh, if they tried, they could- and probably would get in so much trouble! But if it was possible, it was worth it, right? Of course, it was!

“I’m coming too!” Her voice seemed higher than normal in her excitement. Tiny flames were rising off her fur everywhere now. She hadn’t felt this pumped since she’d first found out she’d been accepted to the Gladius crew.

Both humans and many of the surrounding group looked at her. Before anyone could object, she fluffed her fur into the most distinguished shape she could manage on the spot. “Mike and Wenona are my best friends. I’m coming too and nothing you say or do is going to stop me.”

No one spoke. They just looked at the two standing humans, waiting for their response. Kylee nodded.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Thurrim.” “Thurrin,” Ricardo corrected.

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” She tilted her head as she turned around and started for the exit to the bay. “Let’s go. We’re gonna need help if we’re gonna pull this off.”

It took some gathering. And some figuring. And some sneaking. A lot of sneaking. What they were going to do was likely going to end up getting them all dishonorably discharged- at best. That was if this whole ordeal didn’t get them all killed or captured.

Kylee and Ricardo had reached out for help from the rest of the humans from the Maywing, and a few others they trusted to keep shut about what they were going to do. They’d gathered supplies, found transport, and were supposedly now, working on making sure they could get said shuttle and supplies off of the Rock Base and warp jump away in the right direction before anyone could stop them.

Them. The humans and herself.

Thurrin’s fur flickered and sparked without stop. What was she thinking? This was a bad idea, this was a bad idea! This was against orders from way, WAY above her. She could die, she could get captured, she could start a galactic incident. She could die! This could end in so many terrible ways. She fretted and paced just outside the small shuttle they were going to be… taking.

Oh by all things bright and shining! What was she doing? All the work to get where she was now, her time in the academy, late nights studying and reviewing protocols, her acceptance into the Confederation Fleet, the work she’d put into her position - was she really going to risk it all? It was madness! What was she thinking?!

But the idea of not acting felt so wrong. Mike and Wenona deserved more than to be abandoned by the Galactic Confederation. She understood their reasoning, or at least, part of her did. This whole situation was like walking on fine Karchreer glass. But another part, the louder part of her was indignant and honestly outraged that the Confederation would leave two humans - two beings who are part of the race they had just made quite possibly one of the most important alliances of the century with - in the clutches of their enemies. And what’s more, Earth seemed to be okay with it, or at least the pushback against the decision wasn’t strong enough to overthrow it. Humans were supposed to be such great pack-bonders. She’d heard so many stories of humans never leaving others behind. She was so confused. Why would that suddenly change at their governmental level? They were still humans. How could this happen?

“Hey Thurrin,” Human Vern came around the corner and nearly startled the fur off of her, “I just heard from the rest of the team. We’re about ready to go. We, uh, we need to get going before someone notices. Kylee and Ricardo drew straws, Ricardo’s staying behind to help cover as long as he can. So it’s just going to be the three of us.”

Thurrin nodded and smiled. At least humans at an individual level were what humans were supposed to be. Whatever hell they were all about to get themselves into, she felt a little better knowing she was doing it with them and for the right reasons.

Looking to make sure no one was looking, she followed Human Vern around to the shuttle's entrance. There was a camera that hung high on the wall a few docking stalls down, but they wouldn't be front and center on the security screens. It was one of the reasons this particular shuttle had been chosen. Besides, by the time anyone noticed what they were up to from there, everyone else would have figured it out when they started an unscheduled launch. Even then, the others were going to help by stalling any resistance for as long as was needed to get away. Again Thurrin's fur flickered as she fought to keep her nerve.

The coast seemed clear. Human Vern had already snuck aboard to start take-off sequences. By the time Thurrin and Kylee snuck aboard - they were trying to stagger their entrances to help avoid detection - they should be ready to take off immediately. Thurrin took a deep breath and started up the ramp.

“Hey! Guys, wait up!” 

Oh frewan. They were caught. That’s it. That’s it! It’s all over. They hadn’t even gotten the engines started and they’ve already failed.

But when Thurrin turned around, it wasn’t a security officer coming towards them, but Booka Vern, running at them on all fours.

“Vern, keep it down!” Kylee hissed. 

Vern’s ears dropped back apologetically as he approached a little slower, rising up to his hind legs. “Sorry, I hope I didn’t just blow your cover.”

“No, it’s fine,” Kylee waved her hand dismissively. “As far as anyone cares, we’re over here making repairs or whatever. The trick is, you gotta look like you’re where you should be, doing what you should be doing. You fake that confidently enough, no one’s going to question it.”

Thurrin came back down the ramp. Her heart was still trying to slow down to a normal rate. She probably should just get on the shuttle. She really should, she kept telling herself. But what if they failed and this was the last time she’d ever see another Booka. Or what if they succeeded and this was the last time another Booka would see her without her having been dishonorably discharged from the Galactic Confederation Fleet? What if this was the last time she’d be on equal standing with someone in her society? The last fleeting moment to spend time with someone that she kind of… well, it didn’t matter, did it? She wasn’t going to have a chance with him after she fell into disgrace after all this. Or died.

“We’re about ready to go save those humans from the Gladius crew, right?” Vern pulled off the small pack strapped around his shoulders. “I’ve got a few things that will definitely come in handy!”

“Vern,” Kylee started, but the large Booka had already opened his pack to show the two of them what he’d brought.

“I figured they’re probably expecting us to do something, so I’ve got some signal dampeners for the shuttle, a few mobile ones for scrambling our comm lines, and a few that I fitted with a tiny emp generator. It’s one of my old designs I pulled out and finished just for the occasion. It works by sending out a tiny burst-”

“Vern, I’m sorry,” Kylee interrupted, “I’m really sorry, but you can’t come. We discussed this with the rest of the group.”

Thurrin felt her stomach drop at the look Vern gave them.

Kylee sighed. She rubbed her eyes and looked around again to make sure they were still not attracting any attention. “The more people we take with us, the less likely we’ll A- get out of here, and B- get in and out of Burnti space safely and C- less people getting in trouble for having ignored the GC and USE’s decision. Plus we need the extra room on the way back for Mike and Wenona. The shuttle’s not very big.”

“But Human Vern’s going!” Booka Vern protested in a strained whisper.

“Human Vern has experience as a pilot. I’m going as the tech person.” “You’re a mechanic. I’m the tech person!” Vern slipped the signal dampeners back into his bag.

“Vern, I know what I’m doing. Besides, can you fight off the soldiers and guards - if it came to a physical fight?” “I…” Vern paused. Thurrin sighed inwardly. She’d kind of hoped Vern could come too. But Kylee had a point. It was crucial to keep their crew as small as possible and make sure everyone coming could each take on several jobs. Generalization of multiple skills was more important than specialization of one skill for this particular mission. And fighting was likely going to be one of the very important skills needed. Humans were very good at what they call “wearing multiple hats.” Kylee was also going to be much more helpful in a fight than the now very dejected Booka.

Vern looked up and over to Thurrin. A few flickers rose from his fur. “And what about you?”

“Thurrin’s from the Gladius crew,” Kylee explained, “she’s friends with Mike and Wenona.”

“I’m a navigation and docking specialist on the Gladius bridge,” Thurrin sheepishly explained. No, wait. She shook her head slightly. What was she doing? She shouldn’t feel bad about going just because Vern has to stay behind. That was part of the plan! These were her humans they were rescuing! She tried to stand a little straighter as she readjusted the pack she was carrying. No matter how cute or sad or upset Vern looked, she wasn’t going anywhere! Or well, she was going somewhere. She was going to Burnti-controlled space.

“Listen Vern,” Kylee put her hand on his shoulder, “we all really want you to come, and we wish you could, but the smaller the crew on this mission, the more likely chance we have of succeeding, the less we have getting in serious trouble, and the safer we can return back to Rock Base.”

Vern’s fur had been growing more and more dark. It was almost red. After a tense moment of silence, it started lightening up into a rich orange. He picked up his pack and made sure all the pockets were closed and handed it over to Kylee. “Here then. You’ll still be needing these, after all. There’s more than just the signal dampeners in there too. A few standard-issue tools. And some non-standard issue ones that I modified. Top pocket on the left has a hand-held AV splicer, good for hacking into security feeds and whatnot. Uhh… Make sure I get that back in one piece though, I kind of… uh, borrowed it from Taygie.”

Kylee smiled and bent down to kiss Vern between his ears. “Will do, Vern.” She looped the bag over her right shoulder and nodded to Thurrin to head back up the ramp. “Ricardo and the others are going to buy us time, think you could lend them a paw?”

“Ah, consider yourselves gone.” Vern turned and started back the way he had come before he paused and looked back. “Good luck.”

The shuttle made a low humming sound. It was time to go. Thurrin scampered up the ramp. Kylee followed behind, trying to walk slowly to be inconspicuous. Human Vern was at the control, scanning all the readouts as they came up. He turned to look at Thurrin briefly as she came up behind him. “Good, you’re here. I’m going to be starting up the engines as soon as we close the door. Can you handle the atmospheric differentiator and anything that comes up on that panel over there?”

Thurrin nodded and jumped up into the seat next to Human Vern.

“Ready to go!” Kylee sat down in one of the seats behind them and strapped herself in.

Thurrin flashed a smile at her before going back to work. The shuttle was much, much smaller than the Gladius, so the atmospheric alterations were minimal. It would be more of a pressing issue when they reached the Arun Bloom where her friends were being held. She wasn’t quite so nervous anymore, she noted to herself. Here at the controls, she was in her element, at work. This was happening, this was really happening! They were really going to do this!

“And just where do you miscreants think you’re going?”

Thurrin’s whole body froze. Except for her stomach. That felt like it had fallen through the floor. She wasn’t the only one. Neither of the humans moved. After what felt like partecs, Vern turned around to see who had found them out. Thurrin followed suit.

“Demfar?”

“Thurrin.” The medic nodded to the shocked Booka, and then again to the two humans. “Oh, it’s a pleasure to meet you. More humans! I do love meeting new humans. You know, since we’ve been here, I’ve really been able to advance my own studies on-”

“Demfar, what are you doing here?” Thurrin interrupted. Her poor heart was really getting some cardio today. She fluffed her fur up to try to look more soft and innocent. She hoped that that, combined with Demfar’s love of humans, would be enough to get Demfar to let them go and maybe not snitch on them.

“Oh, yes, sorry. I’m here on orders.” Thurrin tilted her head, waiting for more explanation. 

“You’re going to rescue Humans Mike and Wenona, correct? That is your plan?” was all the further explanation Demfar gave.

Thurrin, Vern and Kylee exchanged glances. “How do you know?” Kylee questioned.

“Whose orders?” Thurrin asked almost in unison with Kylee’s inquiry.

Demfar looked between the two of them, “Um, well to answer both of you, Captain Salora.” He shifted his weight. Thurrin finally noticed that Demfar was carrying several large bags in his tentacles. Each one had medical symbols on the front of them. He turned to look directly at Thurrin.

“The Captain told me you’d probably try something foolish like this. She said that, and I quote her words here not mine, ‘if those foolhardy glug-heads are going to do what I think they’re going to do, they’re going to need a medic.’” He shifted his weight as he settled the bags on the ground next to him. “So here I am. Where shall I put this stuff? I assume we’re leaving now. The quicker the better, really.”

“Demfar,” Kylee got his attention, “I’m sorry, we- I just went through this with Booka Vern from my crew, but we don’t have room. We need the extra space for bringing back Mike and Wenona. Besides, this is going to be dangerous. You could get hurt.”

“Precisely why I’m here. You all could get hurt. You all could get seriously hurt, and if that happens, you’re going to be needing me and my supplies here. Unless of course, any of you have any medical training? No Thurrin, put your paw down. Helping to bandage cuts doesn’t count. No? Either of you two?” Both Human Vern and Kylee looked down and shook their heads. “Exactly. So I suggest we all become quick friends now because we are going to be quite cozy on our way back. Speaking of which, I do believe we really should get going.”

The three of them looked at each other again. Demfar was right. They would likely need a medic. The shuttle came stocked with a first aid kit, and that’s about as far as medical care had been planned. The fact that Captain Salora had sent him - well, actually the fact that Captain Salora knew about what they were up to and was not only allowing it, but actively helping them was a huge comfort to Thurrin’s warring conscious.

Thurrin pointed at the bins along the wall behind her chair, “You can stow your bags in there if they’ll fit.”

As Demfar loaded up the supplies, Vern turned back to the controls and started entering the final commands. The ramp retracted. The doors shut and sealed. Thurring checked the atmosphere in the shuttle’s cabin and systems - all seemed normal. Vern pulled on the steering levers and the shuttle rose off it’s docking mount. The first set of gates to the airlock were already opening up for them. Ricardo and the rest of the team seemed to be on top of things.

“Well,” he sighed before he pushed the levers forward, moving the shuttle quickly toward the exit, “No going back now. Mike and Wenona, here we come!”

Next Chapter

One of a Kind- Chapter 7

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20191861/chapters/51333751#workskin

Fanfiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13360973/1/One-of-a-Kind

Yato hasn't felt panic in a long time. It made him feel like a child, like his Father was still angrily standing over him. Like he was still strapped to the operation table having iron and wires melted into his body. But now, it wasn't him on the bed being taken apart. Yato kicked at the light-wall, shaking when it felt like cement. The Emishi next to him was yelling something, startling Yato's other neighbor awake. From his right, a woman put a hand on his shoulder, to the left the Wall-H gripped his shirt and tried to pull him back.

"What are you doing?"

"Sweetheart, are you alright?" Yato threw them both off and put his hands in his hair and tugged.

"Arg! I don't have time for this!" Yato pointed his finger at the wall shooting the light's base with his laser. The wall flickered but didn't budge, Yato leaned over and tried the control panel. At some point the bear-man had gripped one of his pockets and fumbled his iPod. A happy song from the Capybara Movie blasted from Yato's speaker, making his head spin.

"Hey! This cutie's letting us out!" His female neighbor squealed in joy, gathering the attention of others who've been ignoring the newcomer's panic.

"If we don't get fixed, we don't have to work!" A voice cheered.

"I don't want to get torn apart!" Another agreed.

The panel short-circuited and the wall to his bed glitched out. Yato tumbled out into the hall and scrambled to his feet. He dashed down the hall, happy jingles bouncing off the walls, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.

Hiyori still sat without a hand when Yato burst through the glass wall. The human doctors shrieked and one of the nurses dropped the handgun he was holding.

"Yato? What are you doing!" Hiyori shouted over his music. She reached out with her other hand, the other one un-gloved and pistol less. Completely fine. One of the doctors lunged for him and Yato swerved out of reach and scooped the gun off the floor. His whole body was trembling, but stilled when his hands were secured around a weapon.

"Yato, don't! Masaomi, grab it!" Hiyori commanded to a young doctor next to her. Masaomi inched closer to the cyborg with awe, asking a bunch of questions along with the ruckus. The Wall-E was too distracted by the giant whirling mechanism that hung from the ceiling. It looked like a mechanical spider with each of of it's arms equipped with some sharp metal tool.

Yato leaped out of his skin when the doctor wrapped his hand around the gun. The two men wrestled for a second when the gun fired, it's blast going through the Yato-shaped hole in the glass. Everyone's eyes followed the blue ball of fire as it flew down the hall and hit a small black square on the entrance wall.

The control panel glitched and all was quiet for a moment. Then, one by one the blue walls holding the patients fell out of existence. Yato looked back at the doctor who huffed out an unironic laugh, then at Hiyori who face spelled murder. The gun was dropped and Yato put his hands up and backed way slowly.

"N-Now Hiyori. We talked about this. It was an accident." Yato tried to passify the Eve as she stepped off the table and slipped her glove back on. Her eyes narrowed as she tugged it down tight. Masaomi looked back at Yato with the same color eyes. Yato noticed his lab coat had the name 'Iki' stitched on the front pocket.

"You better start running, pal." Masaomi Iki said. But that was unnecessary. At some point, Yato's neighbor had come to the back along with a handful of others.

"Hey buddy! You did it! The walls are down, let's get out!" The Wall-H cheered. Yato wasn't given time to formulate a response before the mob of freed cyborgs swept him off his feet.

"Yato!" Hiyori shouted. Yato shrugged with a sheepish smile as he was carried off. Hiyori's voice was drowned out as the Wall-E was paraded down the hall and out of the medical center. Yato fumbled his iPod to turn off the peppy music while Hiyori ran after him. Yukine, who was dozing off on the transport, leaped to his feet in surprise.

"What the-? You idiot! What did you get yourself into?" Yukine said, stepping out of the way of the mob. Yato couldn't help but laugh at how absurd this was, that is until someone triggered the alarm.

"Grab him!" Yato pointed at the Mo as he was carried by. Yukine tried to escape but Yato's neighbor got to him first, scooping up the tiny teen with ease.

"Yukine! Yato!" Hiyori was close behind as the pack of wild cyborgs made its way down the hall. All of traffic was disrupted as cyborgs workers threw themselves out of the way and off of transports as the escapees charged down the hall.

"Hiyori! Please save me!" Yukine tried to roll out of the crowd's hands. But suddenly, the crowd stopped short and was silent. Yato was suddenly tossed off the pack of cyborgs, in front.

"Oof! Hey what's the big idea, guys?" Yato trailed off when he saw the scared and cautious looks of the escapees. The Wall-E looked up and saw a wall of black and red. Hiyori slowed when she caught up, slightly out of breath. Yukine now stood on his tip-toes, trying to see over the crowd

"Yukine, what's happening?" Hiyori asked. Yukine glanced at her, then continued trying to see over shoulders.

"I don't know, they just stopped and threw Yato towards the front. Maybe they finally got tired of being covered in dust."

"Halt. Everyone here is under arrest for questioning and or containment." An authoritative voice spoke crystal clear. The man wore the same uniform as the rest of the Secur-T. He seemed to have become a cyborg around Yato's age. He had dark clean cut brown hair with  green eyes behind glasses. When those eyes met Yato's he quirked a brow, his glasses had streams of light dance across them, giving him whatever information he asked for.

"You're- You're a-" his brows shot up to his hair line as he read the tiny words on the glass one more time.

"What is it? What's the hold up, Kazuma?" Another voice made itself known. Strong, commanding, smooth, and feminine. The Secur-Ts parted to make way for a tall woman wearing the same uniform with a matching trench coat and military beret. Her name was written in a blaring white labeling the blonde woman, Bishamon. She made her way to the very front and stopped with her shined boots itches from Yato's fingers. Her light eyes gazed down at the Wall-E with fierce appalling.

"Kazuma? What am I looking at?" Bishamon asked without looking away from the man on the floor. The bifocaled Secur-T rushed to the woman's side and frantically whispered in her ear, her eyes widening at whatever he said. Behind Yato, the escaped cyborgs also parted to let a pushy Hiyori through followed by Yukine.

"Lieutenant General Bishamon!" Hiyori gasped. Yukine sucked air between his teeth while Yato used one of his learned curse words. Bishamon look at the three, then at the rest of the group.

"You will all be apprehended. Do not resist." Bishamon spoke with authority. Hiyori stepped forward and held up her hands, one still in the gun.

"Please, Lieutenant General, I am an Eve that has returned positive-"

"I am sorry Eve, but I am under strict orders to apprehend you and this," she gestured with a wrinkled nose to Yato, "thing. Come quietly."

"Orders?" Yukine echoed. Yato couldn't agree more. He narrowed his eyes at the towering Secur-T, knowing exactly who's orders she was following. This woman was their enemy. Yato jumped to his feet with an equally fiery expression.

"Oh no you don't!" Yato put a hand on his compactor, pausing only to glance at Yukine in surprise when the kid came to stand next to him with his roller. The woman narrowed her eyes and set her feet shoulder with the part.

"If you don't come quietly, we will make you. All units, ready your borders! Kazuma, send out a warning." Bishamon moved her coat out of the way to reveal a cane sword, getting into a battle stance. The other Secur-Ts let out a collective 'yes ma'am' folded their arms behind their backs. The gold buttons on their red shoulder marks clipped open and a red dot started to glow. Kazuma faced the three of them and touched the side of his glasses. A shutter sound was heard.

"Caution: Rouge Workers," was announced though the speakers by a robotic voice. The very ship seemed to vibrate with the message as it repeated five times. Bishamon and her Secur-Ts started to advance in a line.

"Yukine, hang on!" Hiyori shouted. Yukine could just barley grab her arm as her flight boots activated and she shot forward. Before Yato could even blink, he was flying through the air bridal style, Yukine waving around Hiyori like a cape. Behind them, shouts were heard as some of the cyborgs were captured while others fought through the line of police force.  

The trio flew overhead, Hiyori seemed to know which turns to make as more Secur-Ts appeared out of nowhere. Glowing hallow graphic signs were red with caution as they showed the picture Kazuma took of the three of them. Their faces stared back at them every couple feet, surrounding the four-way Hiyori dropped them in. She landed heavily beside them, huffing that she couldn't carry so much weight. Transports stopped as cyborgs gasped and whispered among each other each other, looking between the warning and the group in the center. Hiyori spun around with a distressed look before whipping around to yell at the Wall-E.

"Yato! There was no reason to freak out like that!" She threw her arms open and the boys shrunk back. Not even Yukine tried to correct her, choosing simply to hide behind Yato. Hiyori heaved in quick breaths, but she didn't look tired. No, she looked upset, her eyes were starting to get wet with pink around the sides. The Wall-E stood straighter, face morphing into one more stern. He reached back and grabbed Yukine's wrist then wrapped his fingers around the Eve's hand dragging them behind as he took them down the hall.

"In there!" Yukine took the lead and pulled the two to a door labeled 'Cleaner's Closet'. They stopped only for Yukine to put his hand on a black glass panel. His hand was outlined in green and scanned, then the door opened. The Mo shoved them inside, pushing the button for the door to slid shut behind them. They listened for the organized boots of the Secur-T to run by, followed by the trampling of the escaped cyborgs.

The two cyborgs had their backs against the wall, Yukine sliding down the door with his eyes closed. Yato stood off to the right, his hand was still occupied with a slender white-gloved one. Hiyori panted against him, her forehead resting lightly against his collarbone. When she looked up, she saw Yato's intense eyes, dark with several emotions. Hiyori's lips parted to let out one last puff, the rest of her not moving. This confused Yato, who quirked an eyebrow and squeezed their hands trapped between them.

"Oh! Uh," Hiyori stepped back and Yato let her hand slip away, "Sorry." They didn't turn away from each other, but they couldn't look each other either. Yukine, who opened his eyes and sat up at the sound of the awkward coughing and burning faces, looked between them.

"Can we stop the awkward tension and figure a way out of here? All that first sergeant has to do is ask his glasses to show the security cam." Yukine informed. Hiyori made a noise and began to pace, her hand coming to her chin. Yukine stood up next to Yato, who was glancing around the room, his sensors useless on foreign ground. Thier attention was stolen back by the Eve, who perked up and ran to the window. Her head turned left and right then she spotted something below.

"There." her finger touched the glass. She moved so the two cyborgs to see where she was pointing.

"The individual ships?" Yukine looked back at Hiyori in question.

"How will that help us find the plant?" Yato asked. Hiyori didn't answer for a moment, her head down.

"It won't. I just, have and idea."

"But-"

"-Let's go. We need to hurry." Hiyori didn't wait to hear the Wall-E's protests. She spun on her toes and made her way to the door, back straight, head held high. Yukine followed after her, looked back at Yato for an explanation. The older cleaner didn't have one, instead he pressed his lips in a tight line and followed after them. He put his back to the wall again, Yukine next to him. He nodded to Hiyori on the other side. She nodded back and opened the door.

The hall had an occasional transport, but was otherwise Secur-T free. The young woman stepped out first, no one sparing the Eve a glance, before she gestured for the two to follow. Hiyori lead them to down the hall, to the left, then to a public service elevator. They were quiet once they were inside, Hiyori especially so. Yukine crept forward and touched her arm.

"Hiyori?" He let go quickly when she looked at him, "Are you alright?"

"Hmm?" Hiyori looked behind him at Yato, who gave her a comforting smile, "Uh, yeah." Her eyes fluttered to the floor, then back to the door. The awkward silence was sharply interrupted by the sound of magnetic decelerator slowing down the elevator.

"Wha-What's happening?" Yukine shouted in alarm when the lights flickered. The elevator came to a halt and the lights dimmed. Above the door, a hallow-screen turned on with the picture taken by the Secur-T. The picture glitched out to show the red eyes of the Auto Pilot.

"Please forgive the interruption, passengers. Thanks to our capable Secur-T you have been shown an image of disobedient cyborgs. I regret to inform you these rouge workers are still on the run, but fear not! Our very own Lieutenant General Bishamon is on the case." Kouto threw his arms open with a pleasant, charming smile. He then leaned back on clean table with hands folded together.

"I have a word of caution for our passengers and workers. Among these rebels, there is an alien cyborg, a Wall-E, one of the Earth cleaners. We have reason to believe this cyborg is dangerous and can pose a threat to the safety of everyone on board." The polite smile never left his face as his voice held no note of worry.

"Yato? What?" Hiyori turned to look at Yato, her face as if these words were coming out of his mouth, rather than the intercom. Yato, on the other hand, stared at the screen with a dark expression.

"Unfortunately, there was a problem with the Wall-Es back on Earth. A virus that messed with the connection between what was man and what was machine. This coding error was seen to cause fits of homicidal rage, and as a result most of the Wall-Es shut down each other permanently." A pause. The air in the elevator went still and heavy.

"If this Wall-E is seen, we ask that you report his whereabouts immediately," Kouto leaned in, the reds of his eyes aglow, "This is a matter of great importance concerning our Heaven."

"It's not true," Hiyori took a careful step towards Yato, her outstretched hand and voice shaking, "Tell me that's not true, Yato."

"But please! Don't worry too much! This matter will be resolved without a single issue and we will go on in luxury as normal," The auto pilot leaned back and kicked his feet up on the dash, "That will be all ladies and gentlemen, have a happy, carefree day here on Heaven's Sun!" The screen cut out and the elevator started up again after a couple moments. Yato remained rooted in place but kept his mouth firmly shut.

"Yato?" Yukine asked, "What is he talking about? Fits of rage?" Hiyori couldn't believe it. She didn't want too. She had spent a little over two months with this cyborg tailing her. Looking back, Hiyori had said hurtful things, gave him the cold shoulder without even thinking as to why there weren't any others. Her training had discussed the virus before she went to Earth, but she was told they were all dead and the danger was wiped out. And besides, Yato was nothing but kind and goofy. His smile just as genuine and carefree as Heaven's passengers.

"He's just trying to get Yato captured," Yukine insisted, "I'm sure-"

"It's true." Yato interrupted. Voice clipped and toneless. The two  looked at him, faces stuck in disbelief and terror. The elevator doors opened to an empty hall way, Yato brushed past them and stepped out, looking back at them with a blank face.

"Are you coming? You got a plan, right?" Yato asked, tilting his head. Hiyori took a moment to steel herself then nodded and followed him out. Yukine did too, eyes to the floor.

"We should hurry, the security cams might recognize our faces if we don't move fast." Hiyori said, picking up the pace. The boys nodded and took off running after her. The halls empty for the most part, only their footfalls and heaving breaths echoed off the pristine walls. After a moment, Yukine spoke from Yato's left.

"It doesn't matter anyway." He declared almost to himself. Yato looked at the kid with a shocked look.

"It was a long time ago." Hiyori tacked on after a couple breaths. Yato looked ahead at her too, his inhale sputtered and he let out a sharp exhale, but said nothing.

Hiyori turned right down a hall and slowed down. This hall was more grey and black like the dock of the Eve Transport, however the doors were much smaller. Their circular entrances would really only let one or two people in at a time. Hiyori clicked a button next to the first door, causeing it to slide open, then walked in first. Yato followed her, then Yukine who shut the door and flicked on the lights. Most of the back wall was the individual shuttle, a fishbowl looking thing with one window in the front and back. Lining the side walls were what looked to be astronaut gear and tanks. A little right to the center, sat a control pad with glowing buttons big and small. Hiyori walked up to it and started typing.

"So," Yukine held out the 'o' as he nervously jammed his hands in his pockets, "what is the plan?" He then ran over to help Yato pull off the space helmet.

"Yeah, Hiyori," Yato's voice echoed inside, "what's the plan?" The Wall-E sounded much happier, even as the Mo cursed and tried to figure out what button he pressed. Hiyori looked at Yato, her expression difficult to place.

"Just, give me a moment." Hiyori glanced up at the screen as it tried processing whatever she was typing. The space shuttle turned on, it's interior lighting up and the room started whirling. A deep pop echoed as the helmet was yanked off Yato's head thanks to both the cyborgs' efforts. When they walked over, Hiyori opened the shuttle's door.

"Path of destination confirmed: Earth." The dash informed the room. Yato and Yukine stood next to Hiyori and looked up at the screen. A large cartoonish picture of a green and blue Earth showed next to some stats and travel guides.

"Earth?" Yukine seemed to perk up, "We're going to Earth?" He sounded almost excited. Yato perked up a bit too. He wasn't in a rush to get back home, but it would surely be more fun having these too around.

"That's a great idea! We could find another plant to replace the lost one! Oh Yukine, you're gonna love it there! I'll show you around, introduce you to Nora." Yato threw his arm around the kid and walked to the tiny spaceship. Yukine stepped in first, pretending he wasn't carefully listening to the Wall-E's Earth ramblings. Once Yato ensured Yukine was safely buckled in, he turned to do the same to Hiyori. His talking trailed off when he noticed Hiyori stayed rooted in place with a pained expression.

"Hiyori?" Yato tried, tilting his head. Yukine leaned forward in his seat to try to catch her expression.

"What's wrong? You're coming right?" Yukine asked. The Eve took a deep breath and looked Yato squarely in the eye. Her voice, holding the same superior authority it did when she kept everything classified.

"You're going to Earth. I'm staying here to find the plant."

Intrigued (Hanzo Shimada x Reader) Yakuza AU

Request; Nope.

Prompt; You’re the Heir to your clan and an arranged marriage is set up to unite yours and the Shimada Clan.

Relationship; Yukuza! Hanzo Shimada x Reader

Warning; Cursing? Violence, Death, Mentions of Death.

Word Count; 3364

A/N; This has been in my drafts awhile...

S/N - Sisters Name. F/N - Father's Name. M/N - Mother's Name. A/N - Auntie's Name.

~~~

Genji's POV Hanzo and myself were walking through the Hanamura streets with the bodyguards beside us, I let out a sigh as Hanzo lead us towards a store, where a girl similar to my age threw a middle aged man into Hanzo knocking him over,

"You ever try to pull something like that again and no one will find your body. Understood?" She threatened glaring down at the man, he quickly nodded and scurried away mumbling a sorry to Hanzo, she went to go back inside the store but two of the bodyguards grabbed her by the arms, "What-Hey! Let me go!" She demanded as she fought against their grips as I helped Hanzo up, her resistance stopped and her face fell, "Shit" she mumbled,

"Shisutā? Everything alright?" An young female asked as she exited the store

(Y/N)'s POV

"Shisutā? Everything alright?" I asked as I exited the store to find two large men restraining (S/N) as another two stood behind two young men; one with green hair, the other with black, I glared at the men restraining her, "I suggest you let go of my sister before necks snap" I warned,

"Is that a threat?" One of them asked,

"Sister no. Everything fine. It's just a misunderstanding" (S/N) pleaded, I raised an eyebrow towards her, "Go back inside the store. I'll sort everything out" she said, I scoffed

"You sort something out? That'll happen when the world ends" I comment, she groaned "Now I won't ask again. Remove your hands from my sister" I repeated giving the men my attention, the two men that were stood behind the younger men came over to me,

"Perhaps you should've listened to your sister" one of them said as they placed a hand on my shoulder, my eyes darted in his direction before I grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm behind his back making a loud crack to be heard, I kicked him in the back of the knee making him kneel in front of me, I pushed his body on to the floor,

"Take her down!" Another ordered as the three men came to attack me, I rolled my eyes as I easily rendered them all injured, I looked towards the younger men who stood in shock as they stared down at their men,

"Shisutā stop!" (S/N) yelled as she stood in front of me, "They're Shimada's" she stated, I raised an eyebrow looking at them and hummed

"I thought the Shimada's had good fighters. Such a pity. Come along (S/N)" I demanded as we headed home.

***

"I want the two of you to join me at the Shimada Castle tomorrow" Father said as we ate, (S/N) turned her head to the side as she sprayed her drink from her mouth, I rolled my eyes,

"What? Why?" She asked as she wiped her mouth with a napkin, Father remained quiet as he tried to find a correct way to word his answer,

"He wants to unite the clans by a marriage" I sigh, her eyes widened

"What?!" She exclaimed,

"It's not you, (S/N)" Father stated, I scoffed

"Yet" I commented earning a glare from him,

"She's only just returned and you're already sending her off to be married to a man that she doesn't know" (S/N) snapped,

"Don't you dare raise your voice at me! Especially with that attitude! It's her duty as the clans heir!" Father snapped raising to his feet, I rolled my eyes 

"And you wondered why I went to live with (A/N) after Mother's death" I comment as I stood up, "Now if you'd excuse me. I need to mentally prepare myself for tomorrow. Goodnight" I say before leaving the room.

***

"Have I mentioned how I hate these dresses?" (S/N) complained as she pulled at the fabric, we were being driven to the Shimada Castle, Father was sat in the passenger seat,

"Yes for the past hour. And you don't like anything that goes past your mid-thigh" I retort, her mouth fell agape, she went to say something but we came to a stop and the door opened, Father held his hand out as he assisted (S/N) out of the car, he extended his hand to me but I ignored it and pushed past him, I stood at the opposite side of my sister and straightened out my dress,

"I suggest that you behave yourself, girl" he growled as he lead us towards Sojiro, Hanzo and Genji Shimada, (S/N) nudged me making me raise an eyebrow at her, only to find a smirk planted on her face, I shook my head at her and stared forward as we came to a stop, 

"Sojiro" Father greeted extending his hand,

"(F/N)" He replies shaking Fathers hand, Father turned towards us,

"I'd like to introduce my daughters; (S/N) and (Y/N) (L/N)" He introduced us, we both respectively bowed at Sojiro,

"Thank you for having us here. It's lovely" (S/N) complimented, I hummed

"Minus the fact that he's got a sniper on every single roof here all targeting us. A group of bodyguards just around that corner in case something starts and they need to be escorted away. And that he and his sons are carrying weapons" I commented, shocking the Shimada men,

"I do apologise for my daughters behaviour. She's just returned home, you see and-"

"You don't have to apologise for me. I'm quite capable of doing so myself. So, Sojiro will you order your men to back down I will I have to put them down" I growled cutting off Father as I squared up to Sojiro, "Because we both know that I would and can. Isn't that right? Hanzo, Genji?" I mused making them both raise an eyebrow,

"This isn't a day to fight" (S/N) whispered, I sighed and backed down, Sojiro cleared his throat

"I would introduce you to my sons but it seems like you've already met" Sojiro commented,

"Only briefly" (S/N) answered,

"Could I ask when?" Sojiro pried,

"I fought against their men yesterday" I stated, the boys eyes widened

"That was you?!" Genji exclaimed, I nodded,

"That explains a lot" Hanzo commented making me raise an eyebrow before shrugging it off.

***

I groaned as I stretched before climbing out of bed and leaving my room, I stopped in my tracks as I noticed Sojiro walking alongside Father in the courtyard, I hummed and climbed on to the roof to overhear their conversation,

"Hanzo's intrigued by (Y/N)" Sojiro commented,

"Intrigued? Even after her behaviour?" Father questioned, Sojiro hummed

"It was her behaviour that captured him. If she would allow him he'd like to take her to the annual festival upcoming" Sojiro proposed, Father thought about it for a while before nodding,

"Bring yourselves over here later. Hanzo may ask her and she will decide" Father agreed, I sighed before dropping from the roof and heading towards the kitchen,

"Ah Lady (Y/N). I've prepared your old favourite" A maid greeted making me smile as I sat down and she set the meal in front of me, I took a bite and moaned,

"Just how I remembered it" I commented making her smile before she excused herself, I ate in silence, cleaned up then headed back towards my room,

"(Y/N)!" (S/N) yelled as she ran at me and tackled me with a hug, I smiled returning it "Have you heard? The Shimada's will be arriving within an hour!" She exclaimed pulling away, I sighed

"I suppose we put on our best clothes then" I winked making her chuckle before she ran off, I shook my head and entered my room.

***

I was in the training arena when Father, (S/N), Sojiro, Hanzo and Genji entered, I slammed one of my, many, training 'buddies' back on to the floor before looking towards them,

"Why wasn't I alerted that we had visitors?" I questioned standing up and approaching them but I felt someone watching us on the rooftops,

"Apologies (Y/N). I'd requested to see you in your 'natural' environment" Sojiro answered, I hummed

"Well if you'd excuse me for a moment" I say before making my way on to the rooftops, I appeared behind a figure that was dressed in black, I grabbed them into a headlock shocking them, "Don't struggle if you want to live" I growled, they did as I advised and took them to the ground, I threw them at my fathers feet, "What are you doing here?" I asked, they remained silent making me sigh and mention for a bodyguard's gun, he tossed me a pistol and I placed a bullet in their head,

"(Y/N)!" (S/N) exclaimed,

"I don't have time for time wasters" I stated throwing the pistol back to the bodyguard, "Besides, they'd already had taken poison" I say pulling up the full mask revealing the foam that was spilling of their mouth,

"I do apologise for this scene Sojiro. It wasn't my intention" Father apologised making me roll my eyes,

"Don't worry (F/N). It's not the first time we've witness violence, even if it was shown by a woman" Sojiro commented making me glare at him, (S/N) stepped in front of me making me look at her,

"Calm down. Your eyes are glowing" she hissed, my eyes widened as I quickly shut them and took a deep breath.

***

"If you don't mind me prying (Y/N) but why don't you like your father?" Hanzo questioned as we walked from Shimada castle to mine, with Bodyguards obviously,

"After my Mother's death, I saw my Father in a whole new light, he was more violent, and demanding. He seemed to forget that he had two daughters and prioritised my sister. So, I left the castle and moved in with my Auntie and Uncle, I'd only returned that day we met and he'd already organised me to marry you" I explained, he hummed

"Is that why you hold such hatred towards my family and myself?" He questioned, I stopped momentarily looking at him 

"I don't hate you at all. It's just my person, but once you get to know me then you'll see a completely different person" I replied, he nodded and we continued to walk,

"When my Father told me about our arranged marriage I did some research and found something of interest: The ph-"

"The Phoenix ability past down to every first born of the (L/N) clan. I had a feeling you'd know about it. Yes, I'm currently in possession of the Phoenix, that's why if I'm angered my eyes will begin to glow orange" I say cutting him off, we arrived at the courtyard and I gave him a small smile, "Thank you for today. I-" I was cut off by an explosion sending me away from the main building and on to my back.

Hanzo's POV

I groaned as I got up from the ground and looked towards the building seeing it up in flames, I looked to my left to see (Y/N) still on the ground,

"(Y/N)!" I yelled as I ran over to her, I helped her to her feet and she stared at the building before letting out an angered yell pushing me away as she stormed towards the building, large flaming wings erupted from her back making my eyes widened in shock, "The Phoenix" I muttered before chasing after her, I entered the building taking a sword off the wall and preparing for any attacks,

"(S/N)!" (Y/N) yelled as she ran over to her younger sister body, I joined her keeping my guard up,

"(Y/N)?" She groaned as she tried to get up but (Y/N) stopped her from doing so,

"Don't move you could be seriously injured" (Y/N) demanded,

"Your eyes..." (S/N) trailed off as she glanced at me, (Y/N) shrugged 

"It doesn't matter. Hanzo can you take her to yours" (Y/N) requested,

"Of course but-"

"No buts. I'll know she's safe there. Get her some medical help as well" She ordered cutting me off as she stood up, I sighed and nodded as I carefully picked up (S/N)

"Be safe" I pleaded, she nodded giving a small smile and walking off.

***

(Y/N)'s POV

"How's she doing?" I asked the doctor as I entered her room, I had become the (L/N)'s Clan Leader, the destroyed building was quickly repaired so I was able to move (S/N) back home,

"Lady (Y/N). Your sister is recovering but I've also found out that she's expecting a child" The Doctor informed stunning me,

"Expecting a child? How-?"

"A couple of months. And it seems fine due to the explosion" They informed, I nodded

"Thank you" I say as they left the room, "I know you're awake, (S/N)" I stated as she sat up in her bed avoiding eye contact with me, "I'm not angry" I commented,

"Tell that to your eyes" She retorted looking at me,

"After the explosion, my eyes have stayed like this, I'm sure it'll disappear soon. But I'm not angry at you" I explained, she sighed as there was a knock on the door and a henchman poked his head though the door,

"I'm sorry to interrupt M'Lady but we've got them" He informed, I nodded

"I'll be down shortly. Tie them up" I ordered, he nodded and left, I placed a hand on (S/N) shoulder, "I'll support you no matter what" I asserted placing a kiss on top of her head and leaving her room.

I made my way down to the basement and found a woman and man tied against the chairs,

"I must say, I'm disappointed" I spoke as I approached them, they both froze as their breaths caught in the back of their throats, "I give you food, shelter, jobs. Yet you still betray me and report back to my enemies!" I snapped ripping the bags from their heads, their eyes widened, "Care to explain?" I growled as I stood a small bit away,

"You're a fake! Giving us resources is just an up front for the media! To hide what happens behind your walls!" The female yelled,

"Shut up!" The male demanded, I raised an eyebrow

"Oh no. Please continue. What do I do behind my walls?" I questioned as I approached her,

"Torture for information. Kill for fun. You're a monster and you know it" she hissed, I hummed as I tilted her head upwards to look at me, her eyes widened as tears began to form, I could see the reflection of my wings in her eyes,

"You see we're all monsters. Some of us accept it sooner than others" I comment before snapping her neck,

"No!" The male screamed as I headed over to him,

"Do you have anything to add?" I asked as I tilted his head up towards me,

"Make it quick" he replied making me sigh,

"No. You can suffer" I retort dropping his head and going to leave,

"You let me live! And history will repeat itself! You'll end up like your pathetic parents!" He yelled, I quickly grabbed a dagger from a henchman and threw it into his chest,

"Don't you ever bring up them!" I yelled turning to him, I looked towards the henchmen, "Make it hell for him" I ordered before leaving,

"M'Lady, the council have called an urgent meeting!" A messenger reported making me sigh as I headed up to the meeting room, the whole council rose as I entered and sat down,

"Tell me. Why've you called this meeting?" I asked as I looked upon them,

"Although you're doing a great job as clan leader. We're worried about your marriage towards Hanzo Shimada" One of them spoke, I hummed

"And why are you worried? Our Fathers arranged it, it will commence on our own terms. Understood?" I retort,

"But-"

"Understood?!" I raised my voice, they all nodded

"Yes M'Lady" They replied in unison,

"Now, what else?" I asked, it fell silent making me raise an eyebrow, "Well?" I repeated,

"Your sisters pregnancy" Someone spoke up making me freeze, it fell silent again,

"She's with child outside marriage. This will damage the clans reputation. You must dispose of the child and all records of it" Another spoke, 

"I must dispose of it? What about my sisters choices? Or do they not matter?" I questioned as I scanned each of their faces,

"Your sister stopped having choices when she became pregnant" Another asserted, I slammed my hand on the table as I stood up,

"This may have been the way the clans been ruled by men for the past decades but you forget, I'm the leader! I make the rules! I support my sister 100%! And there's nothing you can do about it! You're supposed to guide me! Not order!" I snapped, all their eyes widened as they stood up and stepped backwards, I caught a glimpse in the window and saw my wings fully out,

"I'm afraid that there's nothing you can do. Your sister is being dealt with at this moment in time" Someone spoke making me glare at them all,

"What?!" I yelled before sending a stream of fire towards them all, I stormed out of the room that was now filled of their screams of agony and towards my sisters room,

"No! Let me go!" (S/N) screamed making me run in, to find a group of henchmen pinning her down to the bed,

"Let her go!" I demanded, they all turned to me and backed away,

"(Y/N)" (S/N) sighed in relief as she ran over to stand behind me, my own henchmen came in and restrained the others,

"Leave them to rot" I ordered as I escorted (S/N) to my room, I sat her on my bed and crouched in front of her, "I'm so sorry. I never meant for this to happen. If I knew the council knew, I would've never left your side" I apologised, she pulled me into a hug,

"I don't blame you. I'm sorry for not telling you sooner" she replied, I sighed pulling away,

"From now on you're not leaving my side. And if you have to I'm sending my personal bodyguards with you" I asserted,

"But you'll need them. You're the clan leader. You'll-"

"And you're my sister. Not only have you got the enemies outside but you've also got them inside now. You'll need them more than myself" I say giving a weak smile,

"Fine" she sighed, I nodded

"Get some sleep. I'll be here when you wake up" I say.

***

"Sorry to intrude but Master Shimada has come to see you" A personal bodyguard informed, I nodded

"Very well. Stay with (S/N) until I return" I ordered, they nodded before I left the room, I headed to the main room and found Hanzo with shorter hair and in a suit, "You've been very distant lately" I comment making my presence known to him, he turned to face me,

"I've been busy with the Clan, as have you" He replied, I was able to get a better look at him, his eyes held a lot of weight behind them, he also seemed to have matured over the past couple of weeks,

"Amongst other things. I have" I agreed as I lead him out into the courtyard,

"What's the reason of you being here Hanzo? I heard what you did to Genji, I don't agree with it but it's done" I questioned,

"Our marriage" he stated,

"What about it? I'm still willing to go through with it. It's what will unite our clans after all and widen the territory" I replied, he nodded

"Is it going to be under the same conditions. You want feelings, not political?" He questioned, I nodded

"It's always been that" I replied, he hummed

"Very well. I'll take you on a date. Three nights from now" He asserted, shocking me

"Alright then" I say, he placed a kiss on my cheek,

"Until then. Goodbye" he whispered before leaving me.

***

Hanzo stuck by his word and took me on a date to a fancy restaurant, where we both found out a lot more things about each other and now he was walking me home,

"Hopefully this doesn't turn out as bad as the last time I walked you home" He commented, I chuckled and nodded as we entered the castle, I came to a stop and turned to him,

"Thank you for tonight, Hanzo. I really enjoyed myself" I smiled, he returned a small one,

"Your eyes, they're not glowing" He informed as he cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing over my cheekbone as he leant down, and placed a delicate kiss on my lips, "Goodnight" he whispered before going to leave but I grabbed his hand pulling him back towards me and kissed him, he returned it as his hands appeared on my waist pulling me closer to him, we broke a part with heavy breaths as a bright smile appeared on both of our faces.

Miles to Go Before I Sleep - Ch. 04

"Ah, kriff." Sprinting after his friend, Vann used the packed trails made by the Basilisk to ease his movement through the snow. "Anybody know what the hells is going on!?"

"It's Clan Jendri!" someone called. "They think we know something they don't, and they're attacking!"

"Well, they're not wrong," Vann hissed through clenched teeth.

Another hail of bolts rained down on the camp, mostly centered on the partially hidden cache of weapons and ammunition. Craning his head back to locate the source, Vann ducked between some nearby tents as he aimed his pistol skyward. Through the smoke and the snow, he could just make out the shape of two Basilisk soaring overhead. Pulling the trigger in rapid succession, he fired a series of shots that he subtly guided with the Force. It would have been enough to at least weaken the shields of a similarly sized assault droid, but his attack appeared to have no effect.

"Vann, that won't do kark-all!"

Spotting Canderous beside Clan Ordo's own Basilisk, the Force user rushed over. "Well, what should I do? I'm not about to go and hide in a corner!"

A series of shouts about three meters away alerted both men to the fact that multiple Jendri warriors had breached the camp's perimeter and were attacking anything that moved. More blaster fire rained down from overhead, the red streaks cutting across the white snow.

"We can take them, we're better armed and have more droids. But we need time to prepare!" Canderous was already powering up his Basilisk. "Can you create a distraction?"

Vann glanced down at the blaster in his hands, arching a brow.

"You know what I mean!"

Sighing, Vann holstered the pistol as he mentally traced the lines of his lightsabers hidden within his jacket. "How much of a show do you want?"

"You're probably the wrong person to tell this to, but try to have some discretion."

Clenching his fists, Vann let out a growl of irritation as he turned and ran towards where most of the blaster fire seemed to be centered. Closing his eyes, he drew a slow breath and released the firm hold that he'd been maintaining on his awareness, allowing his presence to flow into the surrounding Force. Though Canderous was fairly sure that none of Clan Ordo were Force-sensitive, Vann had been careful to keep his powers tightly controlled, shielding his mind and camouflaging what he knew was his rather remarkable signature. But not anymore.

With his awareness spreading across the battlefield he could sense the anger and desperation of Clan Ordo, their emotions seeping into the Force as they fought off their rival clan. Drawing that aggression into himself, Vann felt the cold fury surge just beneath his skin until it infused him with frigid power. He knew that his eyes were gleaming a golden yellow as he tugged off his gloves, electricity sizzling across his fingertips. Focusing his gaze on a Basilisk soaring overhead he released the charge, sending a storm of electricity directly at the droid. Circuits burned and steel melted as the purple bolts struck, both machine and rider shrieking as they plummeted out of the sky.

Before his target could land Vann reached out with his mind and pulled, yanking the Mandalorian from their mount and slamming them into the frozen ground before dragging the droid down on top of them. Bone and metal crunched wetly in the snow. Behind him he could hear Clan Ordo rallying, the hot glow of their determination surging through the Force. Skidding between two warriors firing at another Basilisk, he spotted a group of Jendri warriors who were raiding one of the weapon caches. Extending a hand, he wrapped his power around the throat of one thief and squeezed, so focused that he didn't sense incoming danger until a bolt sank deep into his left shoulder. Agony ripped through him as his blood steamed in the cold air.

Whipping around to face his attacker Vann snarled, throwing one enemy Mandalorian at the other with a strong push through the Force. Even as the pair collided with a pained yelp another bolt struck him, this time grazing his thigh. Roaring in both pain and outrage, his fingers twitched as he considered drawing his concealed 'sabers. But he resisted. Canderous wanted discretion, and based on previous conversations he assumed that meant the other man didn't want anyone to think he was a Jedi. Dodging low he seethed quietly as he summoned another burst of lightning, the air around him crackling with ozone.

The second, smaller surge of electricity exploded upward, striking the chest of an enemy Basilisk and frying its gears as sparks coursed across its outer shell. The acrid scent of burning wires filled the air as Vann produced more jagged forks of Force lightning. This time he shortened the bolts, sending smaller bursts of energy into critical points along the droid's hull that he somehow knew were there. Smoke billowed across the sky as the droid began to careen wildly.

Leaping to the side, Vann narrowly avoided a piece of falling debris that crashed to the ground centimeters from where he'd been standing. But he wasn't fast enough to duck between another flurry of bolts and one dug between his ribs. He gasped wetly, landing on his back in the snow as pain clouded his vision and knocked the breath from his lungs. Forced to stare at the sky, he saw the bright burst of engines igniting as Clan Ordo's own Basilisk soared into battle, their six droids now vastly outnumbering the few that Clan Jendri had remaining. Their cannons lit up the night as they fired on the enemy combat units, quickly routing them and forcing a rapid retreat.

A cheer went up throughout the camp as the last of Clan Jendri fled into the darkness, dropping their weapons in surrender before they ran. The Force was alight with pride and joy, and Vann embraced the emotion as he pressed his hands against the fresh wounds that pierced his flesh. He sighed with relief as healing energy drifted through his palms, knitting the skin back together. "Kriffing hells…" he groaned.

The click of a blaster rifle broke through the raucous shouts that were still filling the air. "Don't move," Veela warned as she held her weapon centimeters from the supposed mercenary's face.

Holding up his hands, Vann tried to smile. It felt more like a grimace. "I can explain."

Read the whole chapter on AO3 and FanFiction!

NEWER DISCLAIMER: While working on my blog about lawn-mowing I discovered this old thing. I was pretty proud of it at the time and thought it gone for good. I decided to go ahead and post it with a few edits to replace my older more problematic and ignorant viewpoints with ones that more closely reflect reality and my now more liberal viewpoints. DISCLAIMER: I wrote this for a Facebook group I was talking to people in who were predominantly National Socialists. The kind who think Hitler did nothing wrong. So if my words seem directed at such a kind of people, don't think I'm talking to you the reader specifically. It's intended as a story to illustrate the flaws in their position and how the whole "We Must Suppress X Minority Group Based on Race and Conspiracy Theories!" is a self-fulfilling prophecy which perpetuates an endless cycle of instability. I was writing this on a Friday night and had plans to go out. As it got time for me to leave, I saved the document and left. But I came back to find I'd been banned from the group. I didn't want all that work to go to waste however. So, here it is.

I'm going to tell you all a little story. I'll come back later to see what you all have to say to it. But I have more important things to do tonight. But for now I'm going to leave you all with a parable to consider. If you want to become more well-read on the subject you are all welcome to do so.

The Parable of Visigothic Spain.

In the region we now know as Spain, Jews and Christians lived side by side without any qualms under the Roman Empire. There were absolutely zero instances of ethnic or religious-based violence between the two groups.

Then the Visigoths showed up.

Like most Barbarian groups they were leaving Northern Europe as a mini Ice Age gripped those regions, rendering harvests and food supplies nonexistent. The Visigoths eventually settled in the regions now known as Spain and Southern France.

Eventually the Visigoths in Spain adopted Christianity, even though it was Arianism. Their formal entrance into the Catholic Religion would not come until much later.

Even after their formal merge with Rome, the Iberian Church had a very basic knowledge of Christianity. Mostly derived from oral tradition and the Bible.

In the Bible, it's pretty clearly laid out after the Gospels in the New Testament that the first persecutors of Christianity were the Jews. In spite of this, however, very little in the way of what we might recognize as "Antisemitism" appears in the Biblical texts. In Rome at this time, documents like "Sicut Judicaeris" outlined civil rights for Jews. Saint Augustine said Jews were to be valued, not exterminated, as an important part of Christian history and a valuable asset for the preservation of the Old Testament, its history, and an understanding of it.

But the Visigoths themselves were very cut off from Rome and just emerging from Barbarism. As such, Tribalism governed much of their policy. "Us vs. Them," if you will. So even though they found themselves rulers of a multiethnic and multicultural area of the world, they continued their policies largely as though they were governing only Visigoths.

Couple this with their primitive understanding of Christianity, and we have one of the first appearances of Antisemitism in a Catholic government.

Without explanation, context, or reason Visigothic synods and kings were passing laws to suppress Jews. But apparently even though they had never been before, the Jews were a threat to civil order as a whole and had to be suppressed, oppressed, and controlled.

Flash forward a few hundred years to the Moorish Invasion of Iberia; no one knows precisely why the Moors invaded. Various theories are tossed about, from Eastern versus Western understandings of Feudal sovereignty to an over-sized colonization force to a simple series of raids that got bogged down and accidentally built a civilization. One theory rapidly gaining ground is that the Moors were invited by a deposed Castilan king. However a lack of written record from the time period concerning the motivations and plots of the parties involved in the invasion leaves room of speculation. Most Iberian Catholics simply saw it as an invasion to conquer and destroy their Christian civilization.

At this specific instance in history, the Catholics in the region were oppressive toward Jews and the Caliphate of the Moors from North Africa was somewhat tolerant for the moment. Both these factors had little to do with religion and more to do with the present leadership; any student of Islam can say the religion doesn’t have a track record for treating Jews that is dissimilar from Catholicism.

The result is that the Jews welcomed the Moors. They helped them in their conquests. For no other reason than they wanted more freedom than what the Catholics offered.

So it was for most of the period we all know as the Reconquista. The Jews helped the Moors; there were exceptions I feel I should note. Many Catholic rulers, knowing the Faith better and seeing how the Caliphate was turning against Jews (the "Sephardic Golden Age" didn't last very long) became more lenient towards them and treated them much the same as they did Muslims who did not oppose them. They did what was best for their realms and their people; ideology was secondary to that. The only overarching thing that - mostly - guided Catholic rulers was Catholicism.

So let's fast forward to the Post-Reconquista. The Moors have been pushed out, but many Muslims and Jews remain in the southern regions of Spain. But not just Muslims and Jews; Muslims and Jews with a real stake in the Caliphate. Money is involved now.

But there's something else at play; most of those who fought in the Reconquista don't know much about the Visigothic Period. Their only experience with Jews is with them as traitors and friends of their oppressors. They don't know much about the Who's and Why's of the Visigoth Antisemitic Laws, because there's little to no way for them to know. Even then, that doesn't matter; it doesn't reflect the present reality.

So the Spaniards see the Jews as traitors and a subversive element; they don't know anything else. The Jews don't particularly care at this point about reconciliation; they have a larger stake in helping the Moors at this point. The unified Spain is a young entity; can it truly survive? Already Jewish forces were establishing contacts with the Moors. If another invasion was tried, they would certainly help. Figures in local government were still Jewish and/or Muslim.

So the Expulsion of the Moriscoes takes place, and the rest is history.

But what's the point of this story?

I'm going to make a bet that most people on /pol/ are in favor of the "Final Solution" to the "Jewish Question." That most of you don't like Jews just on principle.

My question is: why? Because of some unfounded theories and suppositions? For all you know, that Jew you know who is your neighbor has no problem with you. Or he wouldn't if you didn't hang a fucking Swastika in your window. He doesn't want your rights subverted anymore than you do.

He probably doesn't feel any special connection with his Jewish history beyond the superficial.

But I'll bet that if you and a bunch of "Daily Stormer" reading-buddies got together, starting cosplaying as Nazis, and having your own Kristalnacht in your neighborhood, very quickly those who find themselves targeted by you would unify against you.

Because human nature is funny like that, with how it reacts to adversity and oppression. When you attack a large group of people as a whole, they unite.

If a whole bunch of Black Panthers went on the warpath where you live looking to kill Whitey, I'll bet you and all your buddies would rally really quickly. I bet lots of White People would join you or hide behind you if only for their own survival.

This is how human nature works and why racial prejudice is self-defeating. It is always a self-fulfilling prophecy. One race persecute another, it resists, and the oppressor shouts, "SEE!? They were against us all along!"

Except any other ethnicity would do -the exact same thing-.

I've heard South Africa is a pretty bad place to live for a White Man now. I'll admit, I don't know much about the whole affair. But let's say it is.

Let's suppose the Whites in South Africa are in a position identical to the Jews in Visigothic Spain. For added sting, let's assume South Africans are predominantly Muslim and the Whites are Christian.

Now let's assume a foreign Christian power invaded South Africa for whatever reason. Let's assume they didn't successfully conquer all of it.

Every White Supremacist would cheer and support every act of terrorism, every bit of mob action, every racist scree, every act and word written to undermine the native Black South African government. Let's assume Black South Africans win the war and reunify the country under a Black Muslim government. In spite of the fact the Whites were openly seditious, you would decry any attempt by the government to control a clearly traitorous group. Because they're White, so you have to help them, and that's all that matters.

This is why Racial Supremacy is a farce. This is why canards spread about Jewish supremacy are self-fulfilling prophecies. It's barbaric tribalism that is doomed to keep the world and all its States ever-shrinking and ever-unstable and ever-warring.

We have to better than that. We must.

Star Wars: The Last Jedi: Politics

So I’m FINALLY getting back to this after, as usually, letting myself get distracted with other things |:T Partly that was me wanting to do a rewatch to get my thinking on this issue in order, and then not having the time to before it left theaters(X| X|), but Anyway! I’m doing it now!!

Tl;dr: I feel like the details of the plot confuse and undercut its laudable messages, and that it furthers a sort of shallow, commoditized understanding of “rebellion” as a character trait/mindset rather than a political act, much like Rogue One.

Political Ethics

So like I said, the messages are good. The Rebellion is clearly presented as Good and the First Order clearly as Bad. The Rebellion is egalitarian, people-oriented, universalist(humans & nonhumans of all stripes are welcome, and there’s no visible gender discrimination), collectivist, and affirming of its members’ worth, needs, and initiative; these values deserve to be presented as Good. The First Order is hierarchical, object-oriented[1], exclusionary(no place for nonhumans; mostly filled with white men), aristocratic[2], and actively erases or ignores the individuality of all but its command staff[3]; these “values” deserve to be presented as Bad.

Unfortunately the plot focuses on the individual “heroes” of The Rebellion, an inherently aristocratic perspective[4] and, aside from the planetary evacuation, none of the Rebellion’s successes have a particularly collective feel to them. In certain respects this is necessary, Poe can’t start off understanding he has to think of the group first if learning to do that is his arc, but that’s a single character, and there ought to be a noticeable progression as he learns that lesson through the film; instead, he continues to make the same myopic mistake again and again until the very end. This mismatch does more than undermine the larger message; it makes it seem as if Poe’s actions exist to create drama in the film, rather than as part as a personal narrative, within a wider story. The presentation of Holdo is much better on this count, she’s almost always in a group, discussing and directing actions(that we aren’t privy to |:T), though unfortunately those are all distilled into individual moments for her, or antagonistically between her and Poe. One could argue that Poe’s increasing reliance on followers rather than his own actions --first Rose and Finn then what’s left of the pilots-- is meant to show him growing as a leader, but I find that argument unconvincing. Rose and Finn’s mission is a decision he makes on his own without consultation in secret in contravention of the collective’s decisions, and is explicitly presented as yet another “Heroic” mistake on his part. The Mutiny is similarly presented, and the collective aspect of it rest on a single scene, after which the focus moves back again to Poe. Something as simple as having Poe be with others, visibly leading them, in these arc-moments, or surrounding Holdo with bustle rather than just people, or showing extras accomplishing vital tasks, would have given the Rebellion a more collective, egalitarian feel. Instead, we get Poe taking the bridge on his own; Holdo standing up to Poe, alone; Holdo and Leia stepping out of separate smoke-clouds to stop his mutiny, alone; Holdo left on the bridge, alone, sacrificing herself for the collective.

The overall presentation of the Resistance/Rebellion adds to this confusion. The Rebellion/Resistance is supposed to represent the Galaxy and its people as they are, which is why its membership is diverse and why the oppressed like Rose and the children at the stables side with it. But the Resistance isn’t presented as a mass-movement: instead it’s a small handful of stalwarts Fighting the Good Fight, led by an even more select cadre of Heroes responsible for all their successes. It is more vanguard than expression of the common will, let alone defenders of a standing government which unites the galaxy. This desire to stack the odds against the “Rebels” --to emphasize their vulnerability, increase tension, and contrast their individuality with the dehumanized First Order-- ends up presenting the struggle for democracy and freedom as an elite endeavor. The common struggle for dignity, democracy, and freedom cannot be fought by a handful of mythic heroes; collectivist goals cannot be accomplished through elitist ends and avoid corruption into precisely what they fought against. Leaders and organization can and must exist to direct action and prevent subversion, but to present them AS the movement and the movement as alone and abandoned -as the “spark of hope” that “will ignite the galaxy”- is to present the people of the galaxy as the passive object of their will rather than as their partners in the struggle and society.

Which leads into a more delicate question about TLJ’s politics: people, sacrifice, who dies, and who matters. There are four events that focus and turn on these questions, in two mirrored pairs: Poe’s distraction/bombing run and Luke’s illusion; Holdo’s kamikaze and Finn’s attempted one. Structurally these are a bit imbalanced as three take place during or after the climax, and one at the very beginning of the movie. They are presented like this: Poe risks his life to distract Hux so the Rebels can escape, which is good, but then he needlessly risks, and loses, the lives of his pilots to blow up a dangerous ship, which is bad; Holdo selflessly commits kamikaze to save the Rebel transports and destroys much of the Order fleet, which is good; Finn tries to selflessly commit kamikaze to save the rebel base and destroy the Battering Ram, which is bad, but is stopped by Rose risking her life to crash him off course, which is good; Luke projects himself over galactic distances, knowing it will kill him, to delay the Order long enough for the Rebels to escape, which is good.

The message here seems to be that it is right to sacrifice your life for others in dire moments, and wrong to sacrifice the lives of others for your plans, which fits perfectly with the moral and political opposition established between the Rebellion and the First Order(and between Poe’s grandstanding and Holdo’s quite marshaling of the fleet), but the episode with Finn puts an asterisk on that. I am NOT saying Finn should have died; that’d have been criminal and derailed the whole franchise and ruined this movie for me. But I do feel like they could have handled that sequence better, or presented that attempted sacrifice with circumstances that more clearly explicated the ethical message. It must also be said that women are allowed to die and risk themselves for others far more often than men in TLJ. Given the central place of women in the film, Luke’s sacrifice, and that, as above, killing Finn off would be a Horrible Criminal Offense that I would gladly hemotoxin people over, I don’t think TLJ intentionally played into this trope of women being “naturally” more sacrificing, “giving”, and group-oriented than men, but it’s still a Bad Look. This is worsened by the writing of and around Poe; he’s never shown mourning the loses he caused, never blames himself, never questions his actions, never loses the regard of his crewmates or the fond forbearance of his commanders for his atrocious decisions. Nominally he is demoted but he’s still able to do basically whatever he likes and, if anything, his insubordination marks him even moreso as the future of the Rebellion(protip: this is nepotism, not institutionalized revolt). Out of all the bombingcrew and fighter pilots who die only one, Paige, is given extended attention and heroic treatment, and nobody aside from Rose even mentions her after her death.

And also: Holdo and the A-Wing Pilot were both Great, and I Loved Them, and why did you kill them, Rian Johnson, in a movie I mostly enjoyed???

Rose and Finn’s storyline was far more politically satisfying to me. Their escape is fundamentally a collective one(though making it a full-on prison break would have been nice for this); without the Fathiers, children, and BB-8(sigh, and DJ *eyeroll*), they wouldn’t have been able to get out. They free the Fathiers in the process of freeing themselves rather than using them to advance their goals. Moreover, Rose gets her chance to be part of putting a metaphorical fist through a town built on exploitation and the performative excess it affords. That the movie would take aim at wealth like this, implicating it in the fascist, ethnic-supremacy of the First Order(even rich non-humans; there is no ethical stock-trading in galactic capitalism), really surprised me; I just wish it’d aimed wider, at wealth in general, rather than at weapons-dealers. Though having said that, singling out weapons-dealers does have a particular salience to USian politics, so maybe that’s part of it. Anyway: the message is far clearer than in Poe’s sections, bolstered by the action, and they get a chance to throw barbs at a “both sides are bad” idjit on the way out, which: Very Satisfying ^u^

Rey’s story I didn’t really see as all that political but, thinking about it just now, there is one aspect of it that touches on morality and politics, and that is her desire to “turn” Kylo Ren. In Impermanence I went into the psychological reasons Rey may have had for wanting to do this, but it all lends itself to a political analysis as well. Rey’s attempt to turn a violent fascist is not, I think, a promotion of the “let’s debate them, guys” school of rhetorical critique. To begin with she’s entirely willing to throw down with him if he chooses his desire for dominance over his connection to other people(and does), and secondly there’s much less uncertainty for her in this equation than in real life. Rey can feel Ben’s uncertainty and doubt, his love for his family and the anguish he feels over hurting them, the truth of his conviction that he is a monster for doing it. He is, absolutely, manipulating her, and using her knowledge of his feelings to manipulate her, but it’s a fundamentally different situation than one where the only thing you really have to honestly assess another person’s intentions is their actions, and the goal their words are meant to achieve. Besides, TLJ is about a war with fascists brought on by a central gov apparently doing nothing to stop their rise; that seems more a promotion of confrontation than of “debate”.

Rebellion

The presentation of “Rebel” is my other big complaint. I don’t really think this will take very long. It basically has two parts.

The first is: these people ARE the government. Leia helped rebuild the Republic; all the soldiers, officer or grunt, are Republic citizens who must have learned about how to fight from Republic institutions(and if they have military academies, why wouldn’t they have a military?). There was the suggestion in TFA that they were secretly funded by the Republic. The First Order is a hostile, invading, outside polity defined, to the audience, entirely by its militarism and oppression. So what are the Rebels Rebelling against? The term “Resistance” is frequently used, but by the end of the film it falls away entirely for this “Rebel” label, which is taken as exemplifying their values, mindset, and situation. But again: they are fighting to defend a standing, democratic, egalitarian government. They are no more rebels than Union soldiers fighting Confederate traitors were. The Empire itself, based on what I know of the backstory, was a massive and short-lived break from the historic mores and institution of galactic society. There is little, if any, polity calling for the Empire’s return, and many worlds actively supported the Rebellion during the civil war. So why are they so few, the Order so many, and why does no one come to help them? All these decisions made to heighten the situation and amplify the heroism of our protagonists not only undermine the idea that the galaxy is behind them, but also pour into valorizing this “Rebel” label and marking these “Rebels” as the courageous conscience of an apathetic and passive world, but it is the First Order that is rebelling against the democratic government that galaxy has legitimated, and in the name of the very defunct fascist coup they help that government end. The Galaxy does not need to be saved from itself: it needs to be protected from the forces of oppression and exploitation.

The second is this, and it’s related. Rebellion is an act and, like any act, it’s morality is judged by its context: why it is done, what it is responding to, how it is done, and what it accomplishes. Rebellion, in itself, is absent of moral meaning. Yet we see here, just as in Rogue One, rebellion being presented as good-in-and-of itself, “Rebel” as a personal quality rather than an act(i.e.: Phasma: “you were always scum!” Finn: “Rebel Scum!”), and zero examination of WHO is rebelling in this situation, against WHAT, and WHY. “Rebel” and “Rebellion” are transformed from political actions with discrete content into brands for people to wear; to be more direct, into corporate logos for Disney to sell. This is fucked up and, in the political context of the US where murderous confederate diehards like Jesse James are STILL lauded as folk heroes, unhelpful.

Nitpicks

The rest of my quibbles are pretty unimportant and mostly have to do with effective worldbuilding, so I don’t think they really detract from the movie in any general way, or even for a general audience that DOESN’T get twitchy over how believable depictions of political and social order are on screen.

Here is a Convenient List of my Niggling Complaints:

where’s the Republic? It’s a galaxy-wide government built on a foundation of THOUSANDS OF YEARS of galaxy-wide democracy pre-dating the Empire and, while having its capital destroyed with all-hands would certainly sow chaos, it certainly wouldn’t make it disappear! In every system!!

Where’s the Republic Military??

If the Republic HAD no military other than the (unofficial) Resistance, then wouldn’t the sudden wealth of all these weapons-manufacturers just as the First Order’s ramping up its rhetoric be kind of... suspicious???

And why would a government birthed from a rebellion against a fascistic “Empire” disarm in the face of organized remnants of said Empire(led by another Dark Jedi, no less!) anyway????

Why couldn’t this story take place during an all-out assault on a confused and headless Republic+military, rather than with the Republic poofed suddenly out of existence?x5

The collapse of governments is chaotic on all aspects of society and especially commerce: couldn’t they have shown at least ONE person on Canto Bight freaking out about their portfolio, and all the deals with the Republic gov they had that have just disappeared?x6

So like I said these aren’t really BIG complaints, but they’re aspects of the film that make my political-history brain Itchy. Maybe they’re all answered in EU material but if they are: it’s kind of a bad idea to build movies on information that the audience isn’t going to have going in, and won’t get by watching. Anyway they BUG me --just like the Bombers for all their rhetorical importance BUGGED me-- in basically every aspect, and I just wanted to State that For the Record. States and Governments don’t vanish in a day, they influence and express the societies which create them, and they always leave behind survivors.

[1]putting its faith in tools(the Dreadnought, their Cannons, the Battering Ram) and surplus(large ships, numerous fleets, innumerable faceless legions).

[2]Everyone speaks with posh accents. Also: only command-staff is allowed to show their faces or include idiosyncrasy in their uniforms.

[3]And even their avenues of expression are supremely limited.

[4]A “Hero” is, necessarily, “outstanding” and possessed of “superior” qualities, whether physical or moral. To be a “Hero” is, by definition, to be “better than” and “above” other people, which is what aristocracy - “rule by the best/highest”- is all about. And Yes: meritocracy literally means the samething as aristocracy, so don’t let people tell you it’s a democratic concept.

Friday, October 23, 2020

Trump, Biden fight over the raging virus, climate and race (AP) President Donald Trump and Democratic challenger Joe Biden fought over how to tame the raging coronavirus during the campaign’s closing debate, largely shelving the rancor that overshadowed their previous face-off in favor of a more substantive exchange that highlighted their vastly different approaches to the major domestic and foreign challenges facing the nation. The president declared the virus, which killed more than 1,000 Americans on Thursday alone, will “go away.” Biden countered that the nation was heading toward “a dark winter.” With less than two weeks until the election, Trump portrayed himself as the same outsider he first pitched to voters four years ago, repeatedly saying he wasn’t a politician. Biden, meanwhile, argued that Trump was an incompetent leader of a country facing multiple crises and tried to connect what he saw as the president’s failures to the everyday lives of Americans, especially when it comes to the pandemic. After a first debate defined by angry interruptions, the Thursday event featured a mostly milder tone. And in a campaign defined by ugly personal attacks, the night featured a surprising amount of substantive policy debate as the two broke sharply on the environment, foreign policy, immigration and racial justice.

Millions slip toward poverty with no stimulus (Yahoo news) Shannon O’Brien’s daughter turns 15 years old on Wednesday, an early milestone for any teenage girl. But this birthday will be unlike any other the young girl has experienced before. For O’Brien, 48, this year has been clouded by uncertainty since he lost his job as a bartender in March due to the coronavirus pandemic. Now O’Brien, who is from upstate New York, doesn’t know if he will be able to get his daughter a birthday present this year because he receives so little from unemployment and he’s drowning in unpaid household bills. O’Brien, like millions of Americans across the country, is now dependent on the government to help make ends meet with a second stimulus bill. Americans don’t care how it gets done, they just want something done. Two-thirds of voters say Congress should focus on passing more COVID-19 relief for struggling workers and businesses before considering Supreme Court nominee Amy Coney Barrett, according to a recent Yahoo News/YouGov poll. Not only do more than three-quarters (77 percent) of registered voters want legislators to approve another major pandemic relief package; 66 percent want the Senate to vote on it before voting on Barrett’s nomination. A full third of Republicans (33 percent) agree. But to date, there’s still no second stimulus bill. Meanwhile, millions of Americans nationwide are falling below the poverty line without government aid. The number of Americans living in poverty grew by 8 million since May, according to a Columbia University study.

Activists Turn Facial Recognition Tools Against the Police (NYT) Law enforcement has used facial recognition to identify criminals, using photos from government databases or, through a company called Clearview AI, from the public internet. But now activists around the world are turning the process around and developing tools that can unmask law enforcement in cases of misconduct. The authorities targeted so far have not been pleased. The New York Times reported in July 2019 that Colin Cheung, a protester in Hong Kong, had developed a tool to identify police officers using online photos of them. After he posted a video about the project on Facebook, he was arrested. Mr. Cheung ultimately abandoned the work. Many police officers around the world cover their faces, in whole or in part, as captured in recent videos of police violence in Belarus. Last month, Andrew Maximov, a technologist from the country who is now based in Los Angeles, uploaded a video to YouTube that demonstrated how facial recognition technology could be used to digitally strip away the masks. In the simulated footage, software matches masked officers to full images of officers taken from social media channels. The two images are then merged so the officers are shown in uniform, with their faces on display.

Studies Point To Big Drop In COVID-19 Death Rates (NPR) Two new peer-reviewed studies are showing a sharp drop in mortality among hospitalized COVID-19 patients. The drop is seen in all groups, including older patients and those with underlying conditions, suggesting that physicians are getting better at helping patients survive their illness. “We find that the death rate has gone down substantially,” says Leora Horwitz, a doctor who studies population health at New York University’s Grossman School of Medicine and an author on one of the studies, which looked at thousands of patients from March to August. The study, which was of a single health system, finds that mortality has dropped among hospitalized patients by 18 percentage points since the pandemic began. Patients in the study had a 25.6% chance of dying at the start of the pandemic; they now have a 7.6% chance.

Trump administration considers labeling top humanitarian groups ‘anti-Semitic’ (Washington Post) The Trump administration is considering labeling some of the most prominent humanitarian organizations in the world, including Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch and Oxfam, as “anti-Semitic,” according to two people familiar with the discussions. The proposal has prompted sharp opposition from career officials in the department, who say it would be a gift to authoritarian governments that have long sought to delegitimize human rights groups for their work exposing mass atrocities and crimes against humanity. The organizations deploy scores of workers in dangerous hot spots, where they often face resistance from local governments. Pro-Israel advocates have long complained of bias by groups such as Human Rights Watch and Amnesty International, saying they focus too heavily on the treatment of Palestinians by the Israeli government. “It’s preposterous,” Democratic Rep. Tom Malinowski (N.J.), who previously worked as Washington director of Human Rights Watch, said in a phone call. “They also document the treatment of the Palestinians by the Palestinian Authority. They are critical of every government in the world, including the United States. Yet the State Department under every previous secretary of state has relied on these organizations as credible sources of information and treated them as partners.” Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch and Oxfam each strenuously denied any accusation of anti-Semitism. Over the years, the groups, especially Human Rights Watch, have criticized the construction of Israeli settlements in the West Bank, deeming them illegal under international law. Pompeo reversed years of U.S. policy by declaring that the United States does not consider the settlements a violation of international law.

Lawyers say they can’t find the parents of 545 migrant children separated by US government (NBC News) Lawyers appointed by a federal judge to identify migrant families who were separated by the Trump administration say that they have yet to track down the parents of 545 children and that about two-thirds of those parents were deported to Central America without their children, according to a filing Tuesday from the American Civil Liberties Union. The Trump administration instituted a “zero tolerance” policy in 2018 that separated migrant children and parents at the southern U.S. border. The administration later confirmed that it had actually begun separating families in 2017 along some parts of the border under a pilot program. The ACLU and other pro-bono law firms were tasked with finding the members of families separated during the pilot program. Unlike the 2,800 families separated under zero tolerance in 2018, most of whom remained in custody when the policy was ended by executive order, many of the more than 1,000 parents separated from their children under the pilot program had already been deported before a federal judge in California ordered that they be found. “It is critical to find out as much as possible about who was responsible for this horrific practice while not losing sight of the fact that hundreds of families have still not been found and remain separated,” said Lee Gelernt, deputy director of the ACLU Immigrants’ Rights Project. “The tragic reality is that hundreds of parents were deported to Central America without their children, who remain here with foster families or distant relatives.”

Cuba says U.S. trade embargo cost more than $5 billion last year (Reuters) Cuba on Thursday said the decades-old U.S. trade embargo, tightened under President Donald Trump, cost it a record total of more than $5 billion over the last financial year and hurt its ability to tackle the coronavirus pandemic. Foreign Minister Bruno Rodriguez made the comments at the launch of an annual campaign for a United Nations resolution condemning the embargo put in place after Cuba’s 1959 revolution. Damages from April 2019 through March 2020 amounted to $5.570 billion, some $1.226 billion more than in the prior year, Rodriguez said, bringing the total cost to $144 billion since the embargo’s inception. He added that sanctions had also made it hard to acquire necessary personal protective equipment and ventilators to fight coronavirus while U.S. policy had separated families.

2 Broke Artists Started a Bakery at Home. It’s a Pandemic Hit. (NYT) A toaster oven may not be the ideal gadget for starting a full-fledged bakery, but this is a pandemic and everyone is doing their best with what they have. And what two artists in Mexico City had was a $42 toaster oven. “We were broke,” said Andrea Ferrero, shrugging her elbows out of a bowl of cake batter. “We bought it on credit.” Like legions of others around the world stuck in coronavirus lockdown, Ms. Ferrero and her boyfriend, David Ayala-Alfonso, began baking several months ago to escape unrelenting boredom. They turned out to be very good at it. So they started an addictive Instagram account, Cuarentena Baking, or Quarantine Baking, to showcase their cookies, cakes and doughnuts. And they have since amassed hundreds of clients. With a viable business, they’ve moved out of their tiny apartment into a bigger place—one with a real oven. Their success, a rare bit of good news in a country pummeled by the coronavirus, is a testament to the power of cooking as a survival strategy in Mexico’s food-obsessed capital. The popularity of Cuarentena Baking has a lot to do with its Instagram account, which every day features close-ups of the owners’ confections, like gooey filling smooshed into a brownie or spilling out of cakes. Instead of advertising out-of-reach luxury for fantasy browsing, it offers something attainable for people with $1.75 to spend on a mound of pure joy.

Time running short, UK and EU get back down to Brexit business (Reuters) With time fast running out, Britain and the European Union were starting intensified daily talks on Thursday in a final push for a deal to protect billions of dollars of post-Brexit trade. The EU is ready to negotiate until mid-November but then needs time to ratify any deal before the year-end deadline. At stake is $900 billion of annual trade between the world’s largest trade bloc and its sixth biggest economy. The talks have all but stalled since summer, with neither side compromising on the thorniest issues of fair competition guarantees—especially state aid rules—and fisheries, a sector laden with symbolism for Brexit supporters in Britain.

Czechs enter 2nd lockdown to avoid health system collapse (AP) Czechs had been assured it wouldn’t happen again. But amid a record surge of coronavirus infections that’s threatening the entire health system with collapse, the Czech Republic is adopting on Thursday exactly the same massive restrictions it slapped on citizens in the spring. Prime Minister Andrej Babis had repeatedly said these measures would never return. Babis apologized for the huge impact the restrictions will have on everyday life but said if they were not taken “our health system would collapse between Nov 7-11.” The measures include limits on free movement and the closure of many stores, shopping malls and hotels. They will remain in place until at least Nov 3.

China threatens retaliation over new U.S. arms sales to Taiwan (Reuters) China threatened on Thursday to retaliate against the latest U.S. arms sale to Chinese-claimed Taiwan, as the island welcomed the weapons package but said it was not looking to get into an arms race with Beijing. Responding the U.S. approval of a potential $1.8 billion arms sale to Taiwan, China’s Foreign Ministry spokesman Zhao Lijian said during a daily news briefing that such sales should stop. The sales “seriously interfere with China’s internal affairs, seriously damage China’s sovereignty and security interests, send a seriously wrong signal to Taiwan independence forces, and severely damage China-U.S. relations and peace and stability in the Taiwan Strait,” he said. “China will make a legitimate and necessary response according to how the situation develops,” Zhao added. He did not give details, but China has sanctioned U.S. companies in the past for selling weapons to Taiwan.

Thailand cancels emergency decree in bid to calm protests (AP) Thailand’s government on Thursday canceled a state of emergency it had declared last week for Bangkok in a gesture offered by the embattled prime minister to cool massive student-led protests seeking democracy reforms. The decree had banned public gatherings of more than four people and allowed censorship of the media, among other provisions. It was challenged in court by an opposition party and a group of university students. The revocation of the emergency decree, effective at noon Thursday, declared that the situation had been mitigated and could now be dealt with by existing laws. The protesters are pressing for a more democratic constitution and reforms to the monarchy. Prayuth pleaded with his countrymen to resolve their political differences through Parliament. “The only way to a lasting solution for all sides that is fair for those on the streets as well as for the many millions who choose not to go on the streets is to discuss and resolve these differences through the parliamentary process,” he said.

Lebanon names Saad Hariri as prime minister, almost one year after he resigned (Washington Post) Lebanon named Saad Hariri as its prime minister on Thursday, almost exactly a year after he resigned from the same post following popular protests that called for the expulsion of the country’s entire political class. Hariri’s return as prime minister brings Lebanon back full circle, fueling anger at a static political system that has been controlled by the same families for decades. In a brief speech, Hariri addressed Lebanese “who are suffering difficulties to the point of desperation,” and he emphasized the need to rebuild Beirut after the blast and follow a French initiative to appoint a cabinet of specialists to address the country’s crises. As lawmakers announced their choices Thursday, many emphasized the unprecedented times that Lebanon is going through. The memory of the blast, which shook the country both literally and figuratively, is present in everyday life: Shattered glass still litters many alleyways. Bent steel and concrete husks stand where buildings used to be. Residents jump at loud noises and the roar of planes. The destruction across much of the city is also a constant reminder that the country is scrounging for funds to pay for reconstruction.

Some world leaders have big stake in US election (AP) While the world will be closely watching the U.S. election, some countries will be watching more closely than others. A number of world leaders have a personal stake in the outcome, with their fortunes depending heavily on the success—or failure—of President Donald Trump. Perhaps none has so much riding on a Trump victory as Israel’s prime minister, Benjamin Netanyahu. The Israeli leader, who had a rocky relationship with President Barack Obama, has praised Trump as “the greatest friend” Israel ever had in the White House. Trump has delivered a series of diplomatic gifts to Netanyahu, recognizing Jerusalem as Israel’s capital, withdrawing from Obama’s nuclear deal with Iran and offering a Mideast plan that heavily favors Israel over the Palestinians. The White House brokered the establishment of diplomatic ties between Israel and the United Arab Emirates and Bahrain. But Netanyahu’s close relationship with Trump—and more broadly the Republican party and its evangelical Christian base—has come with a price. It has undercut Israel’s traditional bipartisan support in Washington and alienated many Democrats, especially the rising progressive wing, and the largely liberal Jewish American community. “For Netanyahu, a Biden victory would be a disaster,” said Eytan Gilboa, an expert on U.S.-Israel relations at Israel’s Bar Ilan University. He noted that Biden has already promised a different approach to Iran and the Palestinians.

Nigerian protesters say security forces fired on them, fueling global outrage (Washington Post) Global outrage mounted Wednesday after security forces in Africa’s largest city opened fire into a crowd of protesters, deepening unrest spurred by anger at Nigerian police. Ten people died and dozens were wounded after uniformed men took aim at demonstrators the night before at a Lagos toll gate plaza, Amnesty International said, a clash captured from multiple angles on social media. The violence followed two weeks of largely peaceful demonstrations that prompted Nigerian President Muhammadu Buhari to dissolve the undercover police unit at the center of the dispute and that critics have long blasted as abusive. But hundreds returned to the streets Wednesday—despite a 24-hour curfew enforced by riot officers—and thousands more joined solidarity marches in other countries, saying past attempts at ending police brutality in Nigeria had fallen short. Protesters in Lagos, a metropolis of approximately 20 million, said they would not stop until wrongdoers in law enforcement are brought to justice. Politicians and celebrities around the globe sent words of support to the protesters. The United Nations secretary general condemned the use of force.

Geothermal energy (Vox) AltaRock Energy, a project from the Department of Energy’s advanced research arm, estimated that 0.1 percent of the heat content of Earth can supply all human energy needs for 2 million years. The molten core of earth is roughly 10,800 degrees Fahrenheit, and the heat is conveniently replenished: naturally occurring radioactive elements decay at a rate of 30 terawatts, about double human energy consumption and will continue for billions of years, which tackles any concern of, “wait, but can it run out?” There are now 60 commercial geothermal plants in the U.S., with installed geothermal capacity reaching 3.65 gigawatts.

In Two Meanings

@undergroundsky​ pointed out to me that the Chapter Title “Two Meanings” and the image of the first page correlate. 

The page shows two dandelions growing in what otherwise is a barren place. Dandelions have two contrasting meanings: faithful love, and separation.

That alone is fitting for a chapter in which a marriage ceremony takes place right before what is either a departure, or a major attack on Goat that may very well separate both Kaneki and Touka.

Building on that though, rather than referring to Touka and Kaneki the image and words of contrasting meanings can refer to all of the events of the chapter. As in the presentation Tokyo Ghoul, similiarly themed events tend to be grouped in the same chapter. 

The question is what exactly does “In Two Meanings” refer to. By the picture of the dandelion alone, it could be anything that could taken to mean two things at once. That’s a bit vague though, so to narrow it down there is the idea of binary opposition. That is two things which are held in opposites and impossible to reconcile, often in fiction especially post modern fiction characters will often try anyway to find some balance or reconciliation between these natural opposites. For example in Tokyo Ghoul, human and ghoul are held as binary opposites that is somebody is either human or ghoul, you either support humans or support ghouls. In that sense then, the story features characters who are trying to reconcile that opposition and instead find a balance between human and ghoul.

Therefore the pattern repeating in this chapter would be the characters trying to reconcile two things which are opposite, into a whole.  

The second page already features another example, the head of Goat plotting to find food for the future (life), in Aokigahara which is otherwise known as the suicide forest (death). If it’s foreshadowing for the fact that goat’s mission to sustain themselves in the suicide forest may end in total disaster, that is a suicide mission, it’s rather obvious. 

This situation on it’s own though, also represents a stalemate. Even if the situation has changed slightly to become less dire, that is they were able to secure a source of food to last them a little longer, it is also completely unresolved. The two opposite ideas of both Kaneki and Tsukiyama fail to make any sort of reconciliation.

Kaneki has not confronted the fact at all that he is still pitying and sparing human lives, while claiming to be fighting for ghouls. He has not changed his unconscious assumption that human lives are somehow more worthwhile then ghouls, even while making himself out to be the messiah that fights for ghoul kind. 

Tsukiyama (see I’m trying to be fair here), also has not confronted his own privilege which has led towards his tendency towards brutality in the past. In that I mean, Tsukiyama’s family has blended in well and held a high place in society for most of his life. If there was a reason for his earliest shows of brutality towards humans, and even Kaneki himself it most likely came from his distance from them and lack of understanding of himself and them, and therefore his lack of empathy. Tuskiyama does not understand much of what it is like to live life as an unintegrated ghoul, that is one who does not blend in and is instead constantly fearing for his life. You can tell because one of his novel stories features him making a really easy mistake that can let his whole family get killed, that is allowing Chie to both follow him and snap a picture of him acting as a ghoul. Yet when he makes this life altering mistake, Tsukiyama’s family does not even lecture him but offers to clean up his mess for him. Therefore it’s likely Tsukiyama does not understand or comprehend the image problem that ghouls have, the fact that most of them are so revolting to humans and that societal taboo is something they have to overcome in addition to winning a military victory. This comes from the fact that his family has purposefully strived to raise him and tell treat him basically as a human, or more specifically as a person his entire life. 

So we have two characters who want the same thing, but coming at it from completely different viewpoints. Kaneki cares more about how ghouls are seen, and Tsukiyama cares more about fighting to survive. However the two meet now conclusion, they are unable to reconcile and therefore we see Goat make no significant steps forward in this chapter, only buying a little bit more time before inevitable doom. 

This is of course not how a rebellion is meant to be run, they’re meant to be bringing a fight to challenge the world order and destroy it, not fighting a defensive battle and merely trying to survive. Rebellion and resistance are, inevitably two words that seem to mean the same thing but can have different meanings. 

That should cover the opposites presented on the next few pages, besides indecisiveness and Kaneki generally looking like a sad sack there is not much else to be said about that scene. 

Another opposition, that is life and death. Two opposites which cannot be reconciled with one another, the dead cannot come back to life and the living can no longer come in contact with the dead. Such was said firmly only a few chapters ago.

I read this statement not as a factual one, mostly because I see zombies in a future arc as a likely event, but rather an advisory one. It’s much healthier for Ui in this situation to pin his hopes on something already alive, rather than try to make the impossible possible and bring back the dead. Life is for the living, so as it were. 

The manga presents us with a similiar situation, Kaneki’s struggle between life and death. His want to live, his want to enjoy his still living people around them, but also his constant fear of death and mourning those who he has already lost which still plagues him, thirteen or so years after losing his mother. 

Simply put, if you were to boil down Kaneki’s many many issues into what is being presented in this chapter, it’s that Kaneki can barely enjoy the living because he is constantly paralyzed by fear that he might lose them. 

Amon even asks him this to whit, what would you do if the person you lost came back to you, if you thought they were dead. He was possibly even asking in reference to Hide, or maybe just Akira and himself and Kaneki answers that rather than be happy, he would just continue to worry about them disappearing. 

Kaneki confesses the same to Touka, that while Hide was still alive he could barely bring himself to do anything because the fear of losing him was far too strong. 

Kaneki mourns these people he truly does, but if they were all to spring up back to life he wouldn’t get better. If he were somehow able to keep everybody who is around him now alive throughout the whole rebellion, he still wouldn’t get better. The problem is that Kaneki cannot find any way to reconcile these two things which are diametrically opposed. Life and death. 

The manga has already offered two answers for which Kaneki can take heed from, both of which are from Yomo. There is Yomo’s “We can only live while losing” and also the resolve which Yomo found in the Cochlea Jailbreak arc.

Which is a question similiar to how Kaneki feels at the moment, is his hope for the future a lie if his loved ones are still at risk of dying? His despair at who he’s lost already makes it seem so. 

Yomo’s reconciliation of his sister’s death comes from his children, that is he gains meaning from trying to raise both Touka and Ayato and put them on the right path. He of course is not perfect, but this isn’t a yomo analysis thread. The point is Yomo knows that nothing will bring his sister back, even learning that Arima was fighting on the side of ghouls he brings up the fact that his sister who Arima killed is still dead. Therefore Yomo himself finds solace in the fact that he can live with what his sister left behind for him, that is her two children, and in raising them his actions are no longer meaningless. He was still able to leave an impact on the world, to have hope.

Kaneki has no reconciliation, and the list of people he has listed off as the people who he loved and lost also is a convenient list of the people who he’s failed to cope in any healthy way with their deaths. If the best way to cope with the death of somebody you have lost is to follow the Yomo model, that is to do your best with what they leave behind and make it seem like the things they did in life weren’t meaningless than Kaneki fails that test. 

Kaneki shoved Ryouko’s daughter in jail for six months to a year, and ignored her for over half of that time much to her dwindling sanity. After the death of the child and mother, Kaneki went on a binge that ended in a horrible centipede outburst that ended with Banjou getting injured, the last living member of their breakout gang. Kaneki abandoned the Q’s immediately after Shirazu died, even though everything Shirazu fought for was trying to effectively lead and keep their small family unit together and safe. Kaneki now currently does not care at all for the goal which Arima staked everything on, and even sacrificed his own life towards. 

Kaneki also tried to commit suicide in Hide’s supposed honor, even though he knew and remembered that Hide either risked his life, or gave up his life so that Kaneki could continue living. 

The point is not to bash Kaneki though, the point is there is a way to try to move on from the dead and cope with their loss and Kaneki is not doing that at all. He has no reconciliation between life and death, and because of that he stagnates, he too is at an impasse. Currently, he desperately wants to live while his body is slowly dying. Thematically, he waffles once again between life and death unable to firmly pick one side. 

The clearest indication that Kaneki has not truly grown on this front is of course how he phrases this. Of course he sloves her that’s obvious, but the phrase protect her is worrisome. It speaks that Kaneki is still in his chapter 120 mindset from og tg in regards to how he cares about people. 

The fact that he still uses this language, that he still sees people through this framework is indicative that his growth is not yet finished. The reconciliation of life with death, the two as natural parts of one another instead of opposites is something Kaneki needs to do in order to progress. 

It’s interesting because after this chapter I see the same kind of two different and opposite reactions from the fandom. Happiness that Touka and Kaneki are currently close, but also an inevitable feeling of doom that something must come to separate them and kill either, one, both, or the baby. The entire chapter gives off this feeling, the same way Ring did, of celebrating while inevitable doom looms in the background.

My point however in making this post is that it does not have to be this way. None of these characters are doomed. They can all overcome their flaws if they just face them head on. 

One last example in this chapter, Saiko a member of the CCG says she’ll become a terrorist. There are obviously two opposite words, loyalty to the CCG (law) and betrayal from the CCG (chaos). 

Saiko of course suggests, and Urie affirms that the good decision in this route, that is the decision that is made to preserve more lives is the chaos one. That is to break away from the established order and pursue their own individual interests now that the order has become stagnant itself and rotted over. 

What’s interesting is in this case, Urie and Saiko seem to have the same naive misunderstanding of rebellion that Kaneki himself suffers from. That is the path of defying law, chaos, will somehow be less bloody when challenging an authority that is itself soaked in blood. 

Urie treats it like a casual suggestion, one that Saiko smiles at. It reminds me of a few chapters ago where Suzuya also says he can just become a ghoul if the CCG accomplishes it’s mission and manages to kill the rest of the ghouls. 

That is to say how is becoming a terrorist avoiding slaughter. Every character you could label a revolutionary in the series so far, Eto, Tatara, Arima, they have all had to stand knee deep in blood and dye their hands bright red. The only terrorist that so far has thought of human life as something precious to be protected at all cost, Kaneki, is also a really really bad terrorist whose losing. 

Revolutions are all well and good, but... 

This is of course where the double meaning comes in and things become difficult to twist and sort out. People are saying this statement is a result of Saiko’s character growth but I see it as the opposite. It is perhaps, the start, the absolute beginning of an arc for Saiko. 

Saiko didn’t speak the truth, or do anything meaningful so much as throw a temper tantrum about her situation. The fact that she’s able to use the word terrorist so casually, like it’s an option that would be less blood filled then the CCG is proof of that. If Saiko were to truly follow Amon’s advice, she’d realize even the side of rebellion, the side that is definitely trying to change the world for the better is still capable of many wrongdoings and evils. 

She would realize that even fighting for the right thing could be equally soaked in blood, and the death of innocents like Yoriko. 

Amon’s statement isn’t to pick a side, between the CCG and Goat, between law and terrorism, but rather to constantly think for yourself what is right. Therefore Saiko changing sides really wouldn’t be the end result of her arc, but actually where she takes her first steps. It would be in effect, her seeing the other side, but also the evils of the other side and then having to decide for herself what she thinks is right rather then flipping between two disparate ideologies. 

Urie too, to a lesser extent is facing this kind of dilemna. However what he faces is between protecting his family from others, and protecting them from himself. Which is why he’s taking such a neutral position with Saiko here, and has been with Mutsuki. Urie could easily say that Mutsuki’s allegations against Yoriko are false and based on a grudge, the stabbing the wall seven hundred times is proof alone for that. However, he does not want any member of his surrogate family, Mutsuki included to be punished and therefore taken away from him after this all is over. He of course, fails to realize that sometimes people also needed to be protected from themselves as well as protected. 

@bloodycarnations made  reliable list on all the ways Urie has waffled recently, [x] (this is a bit salty so read with caution but I think it’s a good list besides the personal opinion mixed in). Ignoring the quality of the writing, let’s look again at the meaning of this waffling. It means Urie right now is reflecting the same kind of back and forth lack of motivation that Kaneki himself exhibits. 

Urie has not retrieved Shirazu’s corpse, has not protected Mutsuki from Torso or stopped him in any way from further harming himself in others, has not really done anything significant to help Haru Shirazu’s only living sister, has not acted on Furuta’s corruption in any significant way. Despite him vowing to want to do all of these things. He hasn’t even served as an adequate dog to Matsuri, as Matsuri’s gone completely missing now and Urie cannot seem to connect that Furuta had him taken out.

All of these things are not just things that Urie wanted to do, but rather things he made really clear outspoken vows to do. (I must protect Mutsuki), etc. etc. If Urie pulled a full Ui, and decided to completely betray the whole world for Mutsuki’s sake, that at least would be a more clearly committed action than his current waffling. 

That’s why his so called committment to Saiko is something I call into question. After all, the things Urie wants to accomplish, are in direct opposition to him becoming a terrorist. How is he going to pay for Haru’s life support on a terrorist’s salary? There is also Shirazu’s corpse which may make a reappearance as a zombie, and in the same way it did with Ui, chain both Urie and Saiko back to to the CCG. 

Urie too, is a character who fails to reconcile these opposite things. He hates Bujin, but does not want to see him suffer. At the root though, it’s that Urie wants a family but also cannot accept a family because he sees the loss of his father as so absolute and all defining. 

He wants to protect the Q’s as his family, but Urie in the first place cannot even admit his feelings and see them as a surrogate family. He wants a family but he cannot have a real family. That is again, between blood and water, two seemingly opposite things he is trying to reconcile in his head. His failure to do so is what leads to Urie’s own stalling. 

One Hundred Years Ago, a Four-Day Race Riot Engulfed Washington D.C.

https://sciencespies.com/history/one-hundred-years-ago-a-four-day-race-riot-engulfed-washington-d-c/

One Hundred Years Ago, a Four-Day Race Riot Engulfed Washington D.C.

  By all accounts, the 1919 Fourth of July celebration in Washington, D.C., was one for the ages. Coming right on the heels of the end of the Great War, and with President Woodrow Wilson’s League of Nations peace plan still very much alive, Independence Day was a symbolic coming out party for the United States of America on the global stage.

The local hacks sure played it up that way. Under the headline “Gorgeous Display As Jubilee Finale,” the Washington Evening Star described the Independence Day festivities as if the newspaper was owned by a sparklers and cherry bombs conglomerate:

A ‘blaze of glory’ that easily surpassed any pyrotechnic display ever seen in Washington marked the close of the city’s most elaborate Fourth of July celebration last night, both the quantity and magnificence of the fireworks overshadowing anything of the kind seen in former years.

It was one of a number of stories in the newspaper extolling American virtues, including an article detailing a stirring speech given by President Wilson on the deck of a presidential steamer, the George Washington, in between tug-of-war bouts between Army and Navy teams. President Wilson’s remarks declared it “the most tremendous Fourth of July ever imagined, for we have opened its franchise to the whole world.”

Two weeks later, a brutal race riot would sweep across the city.

**********

The riot broke out as so many others have broken out: following a white woman’s claim that black men had wronged her. As the Washington Post recently outlined, attacks in the weeks prior led to sensational headlines, massive showings of police force, scores of unfounded arrests, and an escalation of tensions throughout the city. In the July 18 incident that put the match to the tinder, 19-year-old Elsie Stephnick was walking to her home on 9th St. SW from her job at the Bureau of Engraving just a few blocks away when two African-American men allegedly collided with her and tried to steal her umbrella. The Evening Star reported her description of the “colored assailants” as “a short dark man” and a “taller man with a ‘bumpy’ face.” Stephnick claimed she staved them off until a carload of white men came to her aid. (Other than her word, no evidence or report suggests anything more than an attempted pilfering, if it even occurred in the first place.) Stephnick was married to a Naval Aviation Corps employee, and the story made the rounds among white soldiers and sailors in Washington on weekend holiday.

The D.C. police quickly arrested Charles Ralls, a black man, for the alleged attack, but the tale quickly grew taller with each telling, a game of racist telephone that turned what was at worst a minor skirmish into marauding gangs of African-American rapists who’d been terrorizing the city for months. Four daily newspapers, in a heated fight for readers, fueled the fire with headlines like the Washington Post’s “Negroes Attack Girl. White Men Vainly Pursue” and the Washington Times’ “Negro Thugs.” The stories would get picked up on the newswires and made their way into papers across the nation.

Police questioned Ralls, upon which Stephnick’s husband, John, became convinced he was one of the men who had attacked his wife. A group of servicemen met up on Saturday night to get revenge, and as historian David F. Krugler describes the scene in 1919: The Year of Racial Violence, it didn’t take much time for an angry assemblage to form: “The result was a mob in uniform.”

More than 100 servicemen, after hours of heavy drinking, gathered outside the illicit taverns, brothels and pool halls of the seedy neighborhood known as “Murder Bay,” today home to the federal buildings hugging Pennsylvania Ave NW. (Though not instituted nationwide yet, the District had already fallen under the lightly enforced spell of Prohibition.) “Brandishing pipes, clubs, sticks, and pistols,” the mob of veterans marched south across the Mall to a poor, black neighborhood then known as Bloodfield. George Montgomery, a 55-year-old man out buying produce, was the first to take a beating. The men soon spotted Ralls and his wife and began assaulting them until they broke free and ran home.

For four days, Washington, D.C. became a battlefield with no real defense against the rampaging around the White House, the War Department, and the Capitol, and in predominantly black neighborhoods like LeDroit Park around Howard University, the U Street district, the Seventh St. commercial corridor, and even on random streets where unfortunate souls found themselves. That night, a black man named Lawrence Johnson was thrashed about the head by Marines wielding handkerchiefs filled with rocks, until that got tiring and a pipe was used to bash him bloody on the sidewalk, just outside the White House.

“There have been race riots throughout the breadth of American history, in every decade since the founding of the country, and the worst of it was in 1919,” says Cameron McWhirter, a Wall Street Journal reporter and author of Red Summer: The Summer of 1919 and the Awakening of Black America. “Every single one was instigated by white mobs and Washington was the pinnacle if for no other reason than the symbolism. When the sailors and soldiers gathered to raise hell over race, it was at the Peace Monument in front of the Capitol, which was erected to say we’re one nation following the Civil War.”

**********

The term “Red Summer,” coined by the NAACP’s first black executive field secretary James Weldon Johnson (who also wrote “Lift Ev’ry Voice and Sing,” now commonly known as “The Black National Anthem), referred to the bloodshed being spilled in race riots across the country. From April to November, hundreds of Americans, mostly black, would die, and thousands more were injured. Lynchings and indiscriminate killings sparked 25 conflicts in small towns like Millen, Georgia, and in major cities such as Charleston, Chicago and Cleveland. Elaine, Arkansas, saw the most horrifying of all when 237 black sharecroppers were murdered over two days for trying to form a union. It was a year that would see 78 lynchings and 11 black men burned alive at the stake.

Cultural, economic and military factors combined in 1919 to create conditions ripe for strife. D.W. Griffith’s 1915 Birth of a Nation—screened at the White House and enthusiastically received by President Wilson—glorified the Ku Klux Klan’s white-hooded terrorists as heroes, portraying the organization as saviors of southern white women during Reconstruction. The movie was a blockbuster and helped bring about a rebirth of the Klan, which grew from a few thousand members pre-release to estimates of 4-8 million by the mid 1920s. On July 6, 1919, local newspapers reported the Klan rode into Montgomery County—just outside Washington, D.C.—for the first time in 50 years.

Meanwhile, the Great Migration saw tens of thousands of blacks move from the cotton fields of the South to the factories of the North. Soldiers returning from World War I sought jobs, too. Organized labor grew, as did labor unrest, and the Communist Party of the United States arose as an offshoot of the Socialist Party. As McWhirter writes, “The Red Summer arrived in tandem with the Red Scare.” A fear of radicalism spread, especially toward blacks who no longer acquiesced to the pre-World War I social order.

The Red Summer was a moment when black citizens showed they had had enough, and fought back. Roughly 375,000 African-Americans served in World War I, and upon returning home, felt newly emboldened to fight for their rights. The righteous indignation was captured in a July poem, first published in The Liberator by seminal Harlem Renaissance writer Claude McKay. “If We Must Die” was the Red Summer anthem, a rousing 14-line verse ending with a literal call to arms:

What though before us lies the open grave?

Like men we’ll face the murderous, cowardly pack,

Pressed to the wall, dying, but fighting back!

The emerging resistance also saw itself reflected in the NAACP’s adoption of a more activist platform, flexing its strength in support of H.R. 11279, the anti-lynching bill first introduced in Congress by Congressman Leonidas Dyer of Missouri in 1918. The growth of the NAACP in 1919 was astounding, more than doubling its membership from 44,000 to 91,000.

**********

In 1919, some 110,000 African-Americans (roughly a quarter of the city’s population) called Washington, D.C. home, more than any other American city. McWhirter describes it as “black America’s leading cultural and financial center,” with more well-off African-Americans than anywhere else and numerous steady decent-paying middle-class jobs working for politicians, bureaucrats, and the federal government, especially during the war effort. Black prosperity, though, was an affront to many white veterans who felt they had come back to a different country than the one they’d left, even though a number of black soldiers in the 372nd Infantry, comprised of National Guard units from Connecticut, Maryland, Massachusetts, Ohio, Tennessee and the District of Columbia, had been awarded the Croix de Guerre, France’s highest military honor.

“There were two major problems for soldiers returning after World War I,” says John M. Cooper Jr., professor emeritus in the history department at the University of Wisconsin-Madison and the author of Woodrow Wilson: A Biography. “You have all these Doughboys coming back flooding the labor market, so there’s unemployment. You also have the lifting of the wartime price controls, so there’s rampant inflation, which was called ‘High Cost of Living.’ In early August, Wilson gave his last speech before his stroke about the HCL and basically said everyone should be restrained in their spending because sorry, the government can do very little about it.’”

The same could have been said, at least initially, for the spread of violence in D.C. that summer as the white mob’s collective anger came down on whatever unfortunate black person came across their path. White servicemen yanked blacks off of streetcars, pummeling them on the sidewalks until police showed up, when they would disperse and re-form, an amorphous mob that expanded on the night of Sunday, July 20, when a hundred more men stomped from the Navy Yard to terrorize local black residents. Gangs of rioters piled into “terror cars,” the street name for Model-Ts used in indiscriminate drive-by shootings. Carter Goodwin Woodson, a noted black historian who was dean of Howard University at the time, later recalled the horrors he witnessed after hiding in the shadows for his safety: The mob “caught a Negro and deliberately helped him up as one would a beef for slaughter,” he wrote, “and when they had conveniently adjusted him for lynching they shot him.”

Over the course of the weekend, newspapers continued to stoke the fires, reporting that 500 revolvers had been sold at pawn shops as battle lines were being drawn. A notorious Washington Post front page story on Monday was headlined “Mobilization for Tonight” and urged every able-bodied serviceman to join a “‘clean-up’ that will cause the events of the last two evenings to pale into insignificance,” a barely coded call to inflict more pain upon the black community.

The white throngs continued to unleash violence through mid-morning on Monday, when a group of black men drove a terror car of their own past the Navy Hospital and fired on patients milling about outside. To combat the “reign of hysteria and terror,” the city’s black newspaper, the Washington Bee, urged blacks to arm themselves, and a blistering market of firearms and ammunition purchased in Baltimore were smuggled into Washington. Rumors hit the streets that Howard University ROTC officers were handing out guns and ammo. Barricades were set up around Howard and the U Street area with rooftops patrolled by black men with rifles, including veterans of World War I.

Meanwhile, some 400 white men heeded the Washington Post’s call at 9 p.m. and united at the Knights of Columbus recreation center on Pennsylvania Avenue at 7th St. NW. Victims of the violence filled the segregated hospitals and morgues, as dozens were injured and at least four were killed. According to the Washington Post, the first person killed was Randall Neale, a 22-year-old black man fatally shot in the chest by Marines said to be passing in a car. The Washington Bee reported Neale was just back from the war, describing his death as “one of the more cowardly murders that was ever perpetrated upon a young man who had been to France to fight for world democracy.” Sgt. Randall Neale would be buried in Arlington National Cemetery.

Neval Thomas, a history teacher at Washington’s Dunbar High School and an activist who would be appointed to the NAACP board of directors in 1919 wrote that no longer would white people wreak havoc with impunity, that blacks would “die for their race, and defy the white mob.”

One incident in particular stands out amidst the news reports. Near Union Station, a 17-year-old black girl named Carrie Johnson was hiding under her bed on the second floor as 1,000 rioters stormed the area. Responding to reports of someone firing from the building’s roof, police broke down her bedroom door. Johnson shot and killed 29-year-old Metropolitan Police Detective Harry Wilson and claimed self-defense. She became a folk hero in the black press. A poem published in the Afro-American in August 1919 baldly stated: “You read about Carrie Johnson, who was only seventeen, She killed a detective wasn’t she brave and keen.” Johnson was charged with first-degree murder. In 1921, she was convicted of manslaughter, but a separate judge overturned the verdict after accepting that she feared for her life and acted in self-defense. Within two years, Johnson was a free woman.

The worst hours of the racial war petered out early Tuesday morning as the rioters exhausted themselves.

**********

The claims of a violent attack on Elsie Stephnick were sketchy at best, but given the hostility felt by many white residents of the city and the fact that the “white woman ravaged by black men” story spread so quickly, there is probably little chance the early rioting could have been prevented. However, nobody attempted to prevent escalation.

Long before Congress granted D.C. home rule in 1973, the city was run by three presidentially appointed district commissioners. Former Tennessee newspaperman Louis “Brownie” Brownlow, given the job in 1915 based on his friendship with Woodrow Wilson, dithered while Washington exploded, sticking to his misguided plan to have the city’s 700-person police force, home auxiliary guards, and loaned troops keep things calm. It was a suspect decision given that D.C. falls under federal jurisdiction and Brownlow could have easily called up disciplined World War I troops from any of the nearby military installations. Later, Brownlow laid the blame at the foot of outside communist agitators. He was still fuming about it when his autobiography, A Passion for Politics, was published in 1955.

Only on Tuesday, July 22, did President Wilson give authorization to mobilize 2,000 soldiers. Crowds were dispersed from street corners, theaters and bars were closed, auto traffic was restricted, and tanks equipped with machine guns were brought in from Fort Meade, 25 miles away in Maryland. Limited violence arose that night, but what really brought calm to the capital was a relentless hot summer night rainstorm.

Still, the damage was done, and not just to the nation’s capitol. The black press in America called out Wilson’s unwillingness to intercede and bring peace, while newspapers in Germany and Japan criticized him for promoting the League of Nations while black citizens were enduring a summer of hell across the country—and in his own backyard. The Atlanta Independent declared, “Our president seems to be in utter ignorance of the conditions obtaining at his door.”

A full accounting of the Washington D.C. riot wasn’t on anyone’s mind, at least not anyone in power. No official death toll was ever given; at the time the “official” number was seven, while it’s now believed around 40 were slain. Similar accountings, of injury and property damage, were also never made by the government.

By the time the rain let up and the last soldier left Washington D.C. on Sunday, July 27, the violence and tragedy of Red Summer had moved west. On the very same day, Chicago erupted in its own, even bloodier, 1919 race war that began when an African-American teenager was hit in the head by a rock thrown by a white man and drown in Lake Michigan for the crime of swimming where he wasn’t supposed to be.

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The violence in D.C., though, marked a flashpoint in American racial dynamics. The 20th-century fight against the white power structure was at hand even if the riot itself was swept under the rug. Following the Washington race war, a ”Southern black woman,” as she identified herself, wrote a letter to the NAACP magazine, The Crisis, praising blacks for fighting back:

The Washington riot gave me a thrill that comes once in a l lifetime …at last our men had stood up like men…I stood up alone in my room…and exclaimed aloud, ‘Oh I thank God, thank God.’ The pent up horror, grief and humiliation of a life time — half a century — was being stripped from me.

#History

Defenders of Aura - A Battle Century G Campaign Diary

Session 10 Two hours later... We remain on the island mourning the loss of our friend. Ax... is dead. His heart has stopped and he no longer draws breath. For some reason that hasn't stopped him talking in his sleep, nor his body being burning hot, but it's still very tragic. His mech also completely vanished the instant Juyon knocked him out. We have no explanation for this whatsoever. We've intercepted communications from the Chinese being broadcast across Aura. Neovara has fallen and the invaders are encouraging the rest of the world to surrender. There's also another secret signal being broadcast by the general of Novak, saying that the Chinese are lying. Neovara is still under siege, only the capital was taken, and there is resistance across the other colonies. Soko is the nearest to where we landed so it looks like that's where we're going. We've found a crashed plane that we can jury rig with our mechs' boosters to get us to the next island, in Soko. As Spectre now has a spare seat in his mech, we strap Ax into it and load it onto the plane and take off. En route we get a distress signal coming from somewhere over the ocean. It's not much of a detour so we check it out. As we fly over it, we see debris from a spaceship floating in the water. A large piece of hull on the top carries the text "Cruel Odysseus". No life signs detected. We travel the rest of the way in silence. Arriving in Soko we see there is a battle already in progress. Chinese forces are squaring off against a group that we recognise as being Zeta Team, one of the newly formed mecha squadrons. They are also being assisted by one of the African commanders in a mech of his own. Scattered troop battles are also occuring in between the mech fights. Seems like they could use our help. Soko is an archipelago, and the city we've arrived in is made up of several smaller islands connected by bridges. We arrive on the western island, Zeta team is pinned down on the south west, and the enemy forces are moving in from the East. Juyon and Fiona move across the bridges to intercept the Chinese mechs heading towards a large concentration of Soko troops. Spectre, with the unconscious Ax sitting in Eric's seat, spots a heavy artillery unit and jets across the water to take it out before it does too much damage. Sinclair moves south to aid Zeta team, beginning by hacking the systems of one of the enemy mechs and forcing it to give another mech a nice big hug, pinning it down. As the battle rages on, we get a communication from the African mech; air support is incoming, we just need to lure the enemy into an open area to prevent too much collateral damage. There's a large area to the south that fits the bill so we plan to herd the enemy there. Fiona and Juyon battle side-by-side against two mechs while Sinclair supports from afar, easily dodging enemy sniper fire without even needing to use his cloaking shield. While Spectre closes in on the artillery and takes some pot shots, Ax briefly stirs, shaken awake by the battle. Unfortunately, he makes the mistake of grabbing Spectre's shoulder, who had forgotten he was there. One reflexive (we assume) punch later, and Ax is out again. Eventually the Chinese troops are coralled into the courtyard on the South island and the air support arrives. It's... the white drones we fought back in session 4. The ones built and controlled by Sara Wong. She's still on our side... right? The enemy squad is hit hard and the remaining mechs begin to retreat. It's at this point that Ax awakens once more but this time something is different. He makes a willpower check and crits. This awakens some latent magical power inside him and a fireball erupts from his fingers, bursting inside Spectre's mech, scorching the both of them. The GM kindly decides not to kill them both; instead we rule that they just end up looking like Ash Ketchum after a run in with Charizard (i.e. charred but okay). Luckily for us Zeta Team has an outpost with a hospital nearby we can take them to. Ax and Spectre wake up in the hospital a few hours later. Spectre is looking a bit rough, and his spiky green hair has been incinerated, but he's doing okay, no stat penalties or anything. The miracles of modern medical science at work. Ax, on the other hand, seems to have regenerated his wounds and is left without so much of a tan. He's coming down from his biofuel high though, so he's not exactly feeling well. His stats are halved for the rest of the session. The doctor's are rather amazed that he's up and walking though, considering he has no blood left in him. His memory is fuzzy too, so we fill him in. In a tactful way. Ax: Oww, my head. I can't remember... What happened? Sinclair: Do you remember going insane and killing a lot of people? Fiona: Or aiming your weapon at me? Spectre: Ax, you owe me money. So very tactful. We eventually piece together what happened, Ax telling us about Sara and the biofuel, us mentioning the whole rampage followed by shouty glowing. We also talk with Zeta Team, the leader of which is an Auran, one of the native aquatic aliens of this planet. He tells us that we were the reason he joined up, inspired by our exploits. All very flattering. The African commander gives us a status update on the war. The next country over, Varel, was being protected by Gamma Team, A.K.A the team that Adam Westfield and Sara Wong are part of. He says he's heard of strange experiments going on over there; experimenting on humans with the biofuel (I really wish we could come up for a better name for this stuff) that Adam was involved in. Ax has unfinished business with Sara Wong and we need to find out what Adam might be up to, plus Varrel could be in trouble too. Ax is given a temporary replacement mech until we can find out what happened to Riggnarok and we board a transport to Varel. The city we arrive in seems to be deserted. There are no signs of combat however, just some suspicious scorch marks scattered around. Never a good sign. Varel is a hub for scientific research and there's a research centre up ahead that seems like the best place to get info and possibly find survivors. We exit our mechs and head towards it, but as we round a corner we see there are two mechs standing outside. One is a bizarre, semi-organic machine like nothing we've never seen before. The other one is Adam Westfield's mech. These guys should be on our side, so we take a punt and send them Neovara Military codes. Adam's mech immediately begins scanning the local area and, upon finding us, the organic mech rushes straight at us! Sinclair opens a wormhole with his new power; it doesn't get the team very far away, 20 metres or so, but it's enough that we avoid the falling rubble from the building the monster just ran into. We curse ourselves for leaving our mechs (The GM admits he was surprised we did this) but it's tricky to get back to them without being spotted. Adam seems to be scanning the area for us, so we come up with a daring plan. Or a stupid one. Hard to say. Fiona has noticed the hatch on Adam's mech and decides to try and climb up the mech to sneak up on Adam, so she and Sinclair sneak up while Ax distracts the mechs. Ax unleashes his new fire powers on the organic mech, but it barely scorches it. To make things even worse, what ever organic material it's made out of is regenerating. Gee, I wonder if this thing is powered by biofuel. Spectre and Juyon do the sensible thing and run for their mechs. Fiona makes it to Adam's mech and begins climbing up. Sinclair tries to hack it into submission but its systems are too well protected for that. Fiona tries to prise the door open but it's locked tight. To make matters worse, a blast hits the mech from out of nowhere, sending Fiona to the ground, breaking her leg. A pink mech shows up and picks Fiona up before anyone can get to her. A voice emits from the mech: Sara: Hello Fiona. Thrown any books at anyone lately? Fiona: Oh, **** off. GM: Was that in character? Fiona: Yes! Sara seems unusually aggressive right now, suggesting some biofuel use of her own. Meanwhile, Juyon and Spectre begin taking on the monster mech. It's fast and moves in close, leaving them to use their melee weapons against it. When it charges at Juyon, he skewers it with his sword. This seems to have no affect on it, and the creature simply moves forward along the sword and begins crushing Zweilander's head with its hands. Spectre moves in and uses a magneburst, a short range energy blast, to get the monster's attention. Adam seems to do something and the creature moves back towards the others, causing Sara Wong to drop Fiona (ouch) and flee, though not before Sinclair can fire a tracking beacon on Sara's mech. Ax and Sinclair help Fiona back to her mech, and the group forms up again. Adam's mech seems to be without weapons for some reason, so it hits us with a targeting jammer and calls over the monster, which is bloody and beaten, but still moving and regenerating. The rest of the battle goes quickly; though the monster was fearsome, Juyon and Spectre had already done a large amount of damage and they were able to finish it off. Adam surrenders after. ...Except it's not Adam. The cockpit opens and out steps Wong Yu, another member of Gamma Team. We try to question him about the location of Adam Westfield and why the hell he just attacked us, but he just spits up blood and tells us to get lost. Sinclair does a quick medical scan to find that Wong seems to be suffering from heavy internal bleeding. Nothing to do with us and there's no way to help him. In moments, he is dead. We're pretty freaked out and confused at the moment, so we head inside the research centre to try and find some clues. The place has been emptied, not until the biofuel plant we recently visited. In one of the computer labs we find a body, that of Emily "Sweets", another Gamma Team member. She has multiple bullet holes in her back. In her hand we find a memory chip that we plug into one of the computers. It's a journal. One belonging to Adam Westfield. I have a long version of the log that our GM gave us, but I need to ask for permission before posting. The gist is that Adam has been manipulating everyone from the word go. The President is in his back pocket, though there's no mention of whatever dirt he may have. The plan to create a war between Novak and Neovara, mention of the biofuel, and even talk of Sara Wong. Apparantly she discovered the way that the biofuel can link a living creature with technology, and she discovered it by experimenting on and AI called... Sinclair. Woah. After this the journal takes a turn for the weird. Adam seems to becoming more maniacal and paranoid, no doubt due to biofuel exposure. He plans to kill off his allies who are "plotting against him". Sara apparantly blames him for driving her and us apart, so she has to go too. There's talk of strange powers of heat and energy emerging, and of... absorbing people. Guess we know what those scorch marks were. Adam wants to "ascend" by stealing people's memories and skills. He plans to do so by opening some kind of faultline and releasing biofuel into the atmosphere. Sara injected Ax (or "the fool" as Adam calls him) to not only gain more power by forging a link between them, but to create a hero to stop Adam. It's at this point that we leave the building to find ourselves surrounded by the Chinese army. The Chinese General herself arrives and we hand over the journal in the hope that perhaps we can work together. They decide that we need to be taken in for questioning. Session ends. I'm too tired to proof read this right now, so please excuse any spelling mistakes or plot holes I may have made. Bonus quotes: http://www.giantitp.com/forums/shows...postcount=1295

FE4 Suzuki Novelization Translation (Gen II) - Chapter 5

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Chapter 5 - Black Knight Ares

In Leonster, located in the northern part of the Thracian Peninsula, Prince Leif, of the Leonsterian royal family’s bloodline, aided by the knight Finn, revolted against the empire. While he was able to recover his castle, Leonster, en route to attack the capital city, Munster, he suffered utter defeat at the hands of Bloom, the eldest son of House Freige, and his army.

Out of all of Leif's followers, only Finn, the troubadour Nanna, and a handful of soldiers made it back to Leonster castle.

Bloom's army, morale high from their victory, started marching towards Leonster. Leif took Finn's advice, gave up the castle, and fled for the border. They'd heard that Seliph's army had just conquered the Aed Shrine and was now marching towards the Thracian Peninsula, so their only hope was to join them.

The liberation army had indeed entered the Thracian Peninsula, but that didn't mean they would go to Leonster right away. Along the way was Melgen Castle, where Bloom's son Ishtor, and Ishtor's beloved, General Liza, were waiting for them.

The army at Melgen Castle was small, but their objective was to postpone the liberation army's arrival in Leonster, even if only just a little bit, so they fought to the very last soldier.

Both Ishtor and Liza were good people who opposed the empire's child hunts. Seliph had doubts about killing people like them.

"They obviously aren't bad people. But what they've done until now has supported the cruelty of the empire, making them guilty of the same sins as people like Arvis and Bloom. If they oppose us until the very end, we must fight and defeat them. That's what war is." Lewyn said to Seliph to help guide him.

The fall of Melgen Castle came as a huge shock to the Thracian Peninsula. 

Bloom's armored infantry unit, his niece Tinny's mage unit, and the Sister Magi Squad　made up of Vampa, Fetra, and Eliu all started marching towards the liberation army.

And then, in the northwestern oasis town of Darna, Darna Castle's lord, Bramsel, ordered Javarro, leader of a cavalier mercenary group, to deploy.

This was done in an attempt to attack the liberation army from two sides at once.

-

Black Knight Ares decided to go visit his sweetheart, the dancer Lene, before leaving for battle. But when he asked about her at the inn, he was told that she'd been summoned by Bramsel, and had left for the castle.

'He's trying to deploy his subordinates, yet he's requesting a dancer. How carefree of him.' Ares thought, then headed towards the castle.

The main building's guards, perhaps surprised by how calm he was, didn't try to stop him.

There was one more reason why they didn’t stand in his way. Though Ares was currently a mercenary, he was also the son of King Eldigan of House Nordion. As a person born of noble blood, the way he carried himself overpowered them.

His father, Eldigan, had told King Chagall of the Dominion of Augustria to stop the war with Grannvale. However, Chagall disagreed with him, and had him executed for it. 

After Sigurd killed Chagall, he passed Eldigan's Demon Sword Mystletainn down to Ares.

When the Dominion of Augustria fell, Ares was found and raised by Javarro. Though Ares knew his status, he accepted his fate as a mercenary.

He entered the reception room while Lene was in the middle of dancing for Bramsel and his men.

The contrast of her pale skin, easily visible through her thin clothes, and her bright green hair, created a strong impression. Her dance reminded him of the graceful movements of her body and the scent of her hair during the nights they’d spent together.

When her dance soon ended, Bramsel's eyes were clouded with lust.

"That dance was exceptional, Lene. C-Come here for your reward."

"I've already received my payment, so I don't need anything else, thank you. If you have business with me, then please come over here."

"Oh ho ho, your strong will makes you all the cuter. But, Lene, you must watch what you say. And do not raise your voice against me! Hey, one of you, seize her!"

"Yes sir!" One of the soldiers lunged at her.

"Wh-what are you doing!? Unhand me, you idiot!" 

At the sound of Lene's scream, Ares rushed into the middle of the room. "Stop it, you pigs! Get your hands off her!"

"What!? How dare you?" Bramsel said, looking displeased. "You are nothing more than a lowly mercenary! Are you really going to oppose me!?"

"I won't allow anyone to lay a hand on Lene! Even the lord of this castle!"

"Wh-what!? C-Curse you! Hey, one of you! Kill him!"

At Bramsel's order, the soldiers all unsheathed their swords at once.

Ares' laugh was full of confidence as he slowly unsheathed Mystletainn, then raised it high above his head.

The sword emitted a strange light. Anyone could tell with just a single glance that it was no normal sword.

"Has this sword caught your interest? Once Demon Sword Mystletainn has been unsheathed, it craves human blood! Anyone who wishes to satisfy its hunger need not hold back! Come at me!"

The name seemed to have a magical effect on the soldiers. Their eyes were drawn to the sword, and none of them could move.

"D-Demon Sword Mystletainn? ...Y-You can't be…!?" Bramsel gasped.

"Oh, but I am! I am Black Knight Ares! Now, what will you do!?"

"I-I see. ...I'm so sorry, I was just joking. We won't lay a hand on her ever again, so please forgive us this time!"

"I will, so long as you understand what will happen if you do." Ares returned Mystletainn to its sheath. "Now let's go home, Lene."

Lene smiled and wrapped her hands around his left arm. "Thank you, Ares! I love you so much!"

As they left the castle, Ares explained that he would have to leave for battle soon.

The moment he did so, Lene's face darkened. "Awwww! But why? I'll be so lonely without you!"

“It's because I'm a mercenary. I have to fight to make money."

"I think it would be better if you quit!"

"What!? Don't say a foolish thing like that!"

"C'mon, don't go! Please? Can't I ask you for something, just this one time?"

"I owe it to Javarro. He took me in and raised me."

"He's just using you for your sword! Anyone would have figured that out right away, just by looking at him! I hate him!"

"But still, Lene…"

Anger flashed through her large eyes. "Fine! If you like him that much, then do whatever you want! I don't know what else to tell you!" She yelled, then let go of his arm and started running back towards the busiest part of town.

"Wait, Lene…!" He called out, but she refused to turn around, and was soon out of sight.

"Jeez, what is it with women!? If you don't do what they want, they get mad in an instant!" Ares grumbled and headed for the place he was told to gather outside the castle.

-

Lene stopped once she'd returned to town and turned a corner, hoping to see that her boyfriend had chased after her.

However, he never showed up. Finally, she got impatient, and tried to go back after him, but someone suddenly placed a hand on her shoulder from behind.

"Oh, Ares, you rasca..." She started to say, but her words were cut short when she turned around and came face-to-face with a bearded soldier.

"Lord Bramsel has summoned you once again. Come with us quietly, or else."

Lene panicked and looked around for Ares, but he was nowhere to be seen.

-

Lene was taken back to Bramsel.

"You embarrassed me greatly, girl. Now that the boy is gone, it's my turn to embarrass you. Much more than you did to me."

"What are you doing? The moment Ares disappeared, you forced me here! You're as mean as always, Bramsel, but I won't let you do whatever you want!"

"Well, we'll see about that. Do you think you'd be able to resist forever once we hurt you? First, you'll dance for us naked. Then, you'll comfort all of us until we are satisfied. The battle is about to begin, so we have to leave now, but afterwards, that is exactly what we are going to do.

"Someone throw this girl into the dungeon!"

Her screams fell on deaf ears as she was taken away.

-

The next morning, as the cavalry unit was lining up for battle in front of the castle, Javarro approached Ares.

"Ares, how could a man like you fall for a girl like her?"

"..."

"Well, what's done is done, so forget about it."

"'What's done is done?' Javarro, what is that supposed to mean!?"

"Muah ha ha… Bramsel's probably having his way with her as we speak…"

"N-No way… Javarro! You knew, and didn't tell me!?"

'Lene's been kidnapped by that damn Bramsel…!' He thought, his brow furrowing with anger. It was in that moment that he realized just how much he loved her.

"Girls should be for fun, and nothing else. Especially a dancer. She doesn't suit someone of your status…"

'I did just think I was having fun with her at first. But then I really fell for her. That happens sometimes, too. But he would never know what that is like. He only cares about those who will give him money.'

"I was wrong about you, Javarro." Ares yelled. "I'm returning to the castle to take her back!"

"Don't be stupid! I won't let you! I won't show mercy to anyone who disobeys my orders. Not even you, Ares."

"Dammit!" Ares looked at Darna Castle, where he knew Lene should be.

'Even if I do have Mystletainn, that doesn't mean I can take on the whole mercenary unit myself.' He thought. Plus, the castle looked so far away.

"You took me in, Javarro. But that's all over now."

"What are you going to do?"

"Whatever I want. Those who stand in my way will have to face Mystletainn." He threatened before unsheathing the sword and ordering his horse to start galloping. 

'I'll treat anyone who follows me to a bloodbath.' He thought, but no one did.  'Since things have come to this, I'll join up with the liberation army and conquer Darna Castle. I have business with Seliph anyway.'

His horse continued until evening, when he saw an army coming his way. He was sure they were the liberation army. However, they were much larger than he had anticipated.

-

The day before, the liberation army had held a meeting at Melgen Castle about how to handle the fact that enemies were coming at them from two directions at once.

Their key information came from Fee's report.

Bloom's unit, marching in from the east, was made up entirely of infantry. There was a forest and some other natural obstacles in their way, so it would take them four days to reach the border, and it would take them another day on top of that to get to Melgen Castle.

On the other hand, the enemies coming from Darna Castle to the north were all calvary.

"Oifey, you taught me that the ironclad rule of tactics is to never, ever split your army in two. So what are we supposed to do in a situation like this?" Seliph asked.

"Splitting into two is certainly the worst strategy of all. But if the situation calls for it, both forces cannot be used for offense. Only the main force should be. The other should be for sufficient defense. In our current situation, it will take five days for the enemies coming from the east to reach here, meaning we don't need a defense unit until then. We'll probably have more than enough time to send everyone north, defeat the army from Darna, then return. Plus, our entering Melgen Castle seems to have interrupted the attack on Prince Leif. I know we want to rendezvous with Prince Leif as quickly as possible, but first, I think we should prioritize taking out the threat from the north."

-

And so, the entire liberation army started marching north.

While they were setting up camp, a knight wearing black armor visited Seliph’s tent.

"Are you Seliph?" The black knight asked and glared at him.

"Yes, I am. And who are you?"

"I am Black Knight Ares, though you probably know me as Eldigan's son."

"Whoa, really…!? The King Eldigan of Nordion!?"

"Yes, that's right, my father is Eldigan, the man your father killed! My mother carried her grudge against Sigurd to her grave. Do you understand how much she suffered!?"

"I'm sorry to hear that… But our fathers were friends! They met an unfortunate end, but they didn't hate each other or anything like that!"

"That's nonsense. Sigurd is my father's murderer. That's what I've always believed. That's why I came here, to decide what to do based on your response.”

"Please wait!" Diarmuid cut in. "If you're King Eldigan's son, then you must be my cousin! My mother is his sister, Lachesis.”

"Really? What do you want me to say? 'Oh, what a coincidence?'"

"My mother told me that King Eldigan and Prince Sigurd did fight, but she stepped between them, and Eldigan agreed to her requests, withdrawing his soldiers. He then returned to the castle and pleaded with King Chagall to end the war. Instead, Chagall betrayed him and killed him."

"I heard that, too! My father, Sigurd, might have been connected to your father's death, but at the very least, he is not his murderer."

"So that's the real story? Alright then. I'll assume it's true for now, but if I find out you two lied to me, then you better be prepared. I'll take my revenge out on you, since I can't take it out on Sigurd."

"If that time were to come, then you're allowed to do as you wish. But, Ares, I think the fact that our paths crossed would make your father happier than anything else in the world. I can't help but feel that way."

"I'll see what happens before I agree with you on that. For the time being, I'll fight with you, because I have business at Darna Castle. Tomorrow, you will witness the power of my Demon Sword Mystletainn."

-

The battle began in the afternoon.

As the mercenary unit came into view, Shanan said, "Draw them to us! Battle is the same as swordplay. “If you cut your enemy’s flesh, then you must cut your skin. If you cut your enemy’s bone, then you must cut your flesh.” When the first wave of enemies comes to clash with us, counterattack after they have lost that momentum. We will take a bit of damage during the first wave, but when you look at the big picture, this is the best way to minimize the overall damage done to us.”

The battle began exactly as Shannan had suggested.

The first wave clashed with Shannan, Oifey, Iuchar, Ares, and the soldiers they were leading. Then, when the enemy slowed down, everyone rushed in to counterattack.

Shannan and Ares in particular, wielding their Holy Weapons, fought remarkably. In one-on-one combat, no one stood a chance against Balmung nor Mystletainn. They cut through the enemies' armor like paper.

Once it was clear the liberation army would win, Ares headed straight into the enemy's formation to search for Javarro.

Javarro was standing in the very back.

When he saw Ares galloping towards him, he shouted, "Ares, you ungrateful brat! Did you really think I'd just let you go!?"

"You disgust me! Now die!" Ares repelled Javarro's sword with Mystletainn, then swung the Demon Sword down.

"D-Damn you!!" Disbelief flooded Javarro's face, and he fell from his horse.

'Finally, Darna Castle.'

The cavaliers went along with Ares. The slower soldiers appeared to not be included in the attack on Darna Castle, and were instead returning to Melgen Castle.

'Please be safe, Lene. No matter what they did to you, please, just be safe.'

Ares took out the enemy soldiers guarding the front of the castle, then rushed straight through the castle gate. 'First, I need to find Bramsel.'

He dismounted his horse in front of the main building and ran inside.

He immediately found his target.

He rushed up to Bramsel, and brought down Mystletainn.

Though he was seriously wounded, Bramsel attacked back.

Ares blocked the attack with Mystletainn and shouted, "This is for Lene!"

The Demon Sword sliced Bramsel's armor in two.

"Lene! Where is she!?" Ares grabbed an enemy soldier by the throat and asked.

The man told him the location of the dungeon.

"Lene! Lene, where are you!?" He screamed the moment he reached the bottom of the dungeon stairs.

"I'm in here, Ares!"

He thrust his sword in the guard's face, threatening the man to open Lene's cell.

"Oh, Ares!" Lene jumped into his arms.

"Are you okay, Lene?"

"Yeah, I am. You came back for me, Ares!"

"I'm sorry. I was really stupid. I didn't listen to you, and… you had to go through all of this..."

"It's all okay now, because you came back! Though I always believed that you would save me."

"I'll never yell at you like that ever again…"

"And I won't get angry like that ever again, so don't run off on me ever again…"

-

With Darna freed, the cavalry unit traveled south, towards their next battle.

Behind everyone else was Ares and Lene, staring into each other's eyes...

Lene walked as if she was dancing.

'No, she doesn't look like she is dancing, she is dancing. For me, and me alone.'

Ares matched her pace, and stared deep into her eyes...

They slowly got further and further away from the group.

'Forgive me, Seliph. Tomorrow, I'll dedicate Mystletainn to you once more. But today is for Lene and me. Just the two of us.'

Lene danced, and Ares matched her pace, and Lene danced, and Ares...