Yasss! It's update time!

As you guys may have noticed, I've changed the update day from Friday to Wednesday, purely because I'm so busy relaxing on Fridays that I used to sometimes forget to update this. I know what y'all are thinking; "Uhh, Anubis, you just said that the new update day is Wednesday. Why are you posting a chapter on Monday?" (or at least it's Monday for me, lol)

The answer is simple; my upcoming week has been brought from hell. I'm not sure how much you guys know about Australian schools, but basically, I'm in Year 12 (equivalent to being a Senior in the USA) and this week I have to take a test which basically helps create a score which can determine what university I get into. I also have three assignments due this week as well, in addition to my exams starting next week. As you might imagine, this is stressing me out. I might not get the time to update next week, and I didn't want to risk leaving you guys update-less for a whole fortnight, so you get an early chapter instead.

Sorry for the shortness of this chapter - it's the shortest so far, and I can promise that Chapter 4 is longer.

RECAP:
- Alfred is settling into resistance life well, and is getting to spend time with Matthew, who is still suspended.
- Yao is seriously debating whether or not he should let Lukas get more involved. He is starting to form a plan.
- Arthur is cooperating with the rebels in order to get treatment but isn't going out of his way to demonstrate loyalty. The medication appears to be working, and his relationship with Alfred also seems to be improving. Alfred has vowed to buy Arthur an overdue birthday present.

WARNINGS: Language, crime, attempted rape (I haven't got any warnings for it, sorry, so if you don't want to read it, just scroll down past the line break when you read the line, "The second man sneered and lashed out at him in return.")

Please REVIEW! I love hearing from you guys more than anything else! Also please be patient with updates in the next few weeks! Wish me luck for all my stressful shit!

'Grounded' Café, Veroda District,
Bibesti, Rela,
29th Maii

Feliciano looked up only momentarily as the door swung open again, bells jingling cheerfully. He turned his attention elsewhere again when he saw Arman, a friendly older worker who had been showing him how to work the coffee machines, move away to greet the customer. Sighing, he plucked several dirty cups from one of the tables, giving it a quick wipe-down as he walked to the kitchen to dump them in the sink.

The crew at 'Grounded' – the niche café at which Feliciano had acquired a job – was small and, until he had been hired, exclusively Relusian. He stuck out a fair bit as a result, and regulars and newcomers to the café alike gave him odd looks. To all outward appearances, he looked like a Jhobrasian teenager, mostly due to the fact that the true Syhvvanian red of his hair was obscured by dye. The others were all Relusian through and through, and though he was yet to get targeted in any racially-related way, the stares still made him uncomfortable.

The manager of the café was a lovely man named Nazer, who had been delighted to have someone so young invested in working in hospitality. Arman was one of Nazer's close friends, and his long-time barista. Gossip among employees was also that Nazer was in love with him, and though Feliciano normally didn't engage in rumours, he couldn't deny how much traction that particular theory had. The café had two chefs; Enlik, a woman in her mid-forties who made excellent pastries, and Kairat, a 27-year-old who, in Feliciano's opinion, had adopted it at his divine right to mock him at every turn. The only other employee was a girl named Aizhan, who acted as both a dishwasher and waitress. Now that Feliciano had joined the crew, he shared her duties, but most often than not found himself cleaning and stacking things.

Glancing at the clock, he sighed in relief. He only had another hour left until the café closed up for the night and he could go home and sleep. He was determined to not bother Lovino again – his older brother had started to get dark circles under his eyes from all of the sleep he lost by helping Feliciano try to use his pyrokinetic abilities. He was set in his decision to not bother his brother any more than necessary. It wasn't Lovino's fault that he was so useless, and couldn't even manage to set a cotton thread on fire. He just didn't understand what he was doing wrong. What did Lovino have, in fact, what had all of their ancestors had that he didn't?

He sighed, plunging his hands into the large bucket of soapy water which had been set up in one sink, and started to scrub at dirty plates. It was no use to sit and ponder over it. If the solution was that simple, he would have figured it out already. At the very least, he thought, perking up a little, he had stashed enough pennies in his bag that he could buy something for his brother before he left work that day.

His brief good mood was crushed, however, when a familiar, deriding voice met his ears.

"Clean faster, won't you? We only have an hour to close." He didn't even bother looking up. Kairat shifted closer to him, using his superior height to, quite literally, look down on him. "Come on, we really don't have all day." Feliciano sighed, not willing to deal with the older man's complaints today. He obediently sped up, handing the plates to Kairat to be dried. The man seemed perturbed by his lack of reaction, and scowled, pointing out a small spot which he had missed. "You call this clean? Didn't your parents ever teach you how to perform basic chores?"

Feliciano silently took the plate back and scrubbed the spot off. He had kept most details about himself secret, mostly because Kairat was nosy and Aizhan, though very friendly and much more welcoming, was also a very curious person by nature. As such, none of them were aware of several important things about him. His true identity went unsaid, as it would in any other situation, but they also had no clue that Lovino existed, that Feliciano was an orphan, or that he had technically never received a formal education.

By far the biggest secret he kept from them, though, was that he lived in the Szwicza District. Most inhabitants of the southern district didn't care what people thought of their residence, but once you got far away enough from the area, opinions about it became unavoidable. It was the poorest district in all of Bibesti, being a fringe district. It also had the highest crime rate by far, and was considered extraordinarily dangerous by residents of the Veroda District. Most of them wouldn't walk through there during the day, much less at night like Feliciano did every time he had work. The Veroda District had been a slap in the face for him. It was clean, orderly, beautiful and, above all, safe. Anyone could walk down the street at any hour and not fear robbery or rape or murder.

Residents of Veroda, which was what Nazer, Arman, Kairat, Elnik and Aizhan all were, could never imagine the danger in the Szwicza District. He had heard them all talking more than once about the horrible living conditions there. He agreed, but had felt oddly insulted by their words. It was clear that, at least to them, a resident of the Szwicza district was to be pitied as someone who was poor, lived a degenerate lifestyle, and would likely never leave the filthy area.

He didn't deign to answer Kairat's attempted slight, and continued to wash silently. Aizhan joined him after a while and started up a cheerful conversation with him about the dance classes which she had been taking. He floundered for a moment when she asked about his non-existent schooling.

"What's your favourite class?" she had asked, curious and happy as always.

"Oh…uh, probably history." He said, coming up with it on the spot. "I like learning about all of the old political leaders and such." Aizhan had nodded enthusiastically.

"Yeah! I agree. It's kind of a shame that the curriculum doesn't let us learn about the Free Courts, though, especially since they're right here in our system." Feliciano had frozen up a little at that, but nodded and murmured in agreement before adopting silence for the rest of the night.

It was a relief when Nazer congratulated them on a day of work well done, and told them to go home for the night. Feliciano was glad to dart out the door, ensuring that he had grabbed his small coin purse, and checking that the knife Lovino had given him was again tucked into his belt. He raised a hand in farewell to Aizhan and Arman when he saw them walking off in the opposite direction.

He circled around a block, admiring the sheer cleanliness of this part of Bibesti, before reluctantly trudging back towards the Szwicza District. He had to work hard to clean himself up before going to work every day. If he had gone dressed as he always was, it would have been almost painfully obvious that he was from a poorer district. Kairat could mock him all he wanted, but even the snarky chef looked vaguely frightened at the mention of the place. It was where Feliciano lived and spent most of his time, and yet it terrified the chef. He often kept that thought close whenever the Relusian man was being especially unbearable.

The sun had set much more quickly than he had wanted it to. Winter began in a few days for Bibesti, and the days had been shrinking accordingly. Soon enough, it would be completely dark while he walked home. Already the streets were mostly shrouded in shadows. Shivering a little, he quickened his pace.

Crossing the boundary into Szwicza from the adjoined Calmas District rendered a physical change in Feliciano. His shoulders locked up, and his gaze immediately became active, roving across the street and connected alleyways, trying to determine if anyone lay in the shadows, waiting to strike. His hand drifted towards the knife at his belt, and his already swift pace sped up even more. Lovino normally had no trouble walking these streets, but Lovino looked more like a predator than a victim, and Feliciano knew that he was significantly less intimidating than his older brother.

He kept his senses tuned, listening out for any sign of a person as he sped down the streets. He inwardly cursed how far into the district their apartment was.

A loud noise to his right made him turn his entire body that way, looking out for any sign. He only realised his mistake when he felt hands seize him from behind. Lovino had told him about that old ruse – in which one member of a pair caused a distraction to draw their victim's attention, while the other snuck up behind them and grabbed them. He struggled fiercely, throwing his weight in the other direction in an attempt to make them loosen or lose their grip on him. It didn't work, though, and he felt a hand press itself over his mouth as he was dragged backwards into an alley.

He swung his legs wildly as his captor picked him up off the ground, feeling a sliver of satisfaction when his heel connected with something and the man let out a grunt of pain. He continued to writhe around wildly, trying to get his hand to the knife at his belt. The man's accomplice hurried down, and Feliciano struck out at him with his feet as well. The man cursed, jumping away and sending him a vicious glare. Running out of options, he sunk his teeth into the hand clasped over his mouth. He heard a curse, and the hand vanished. A flash of pain across his temple just a moment later told him that the man had just hit him. The man wrapped his arms around him, clasping him in a backwards bear-hug, as the second of the two approached them.

Feliciano continued to wriggle around wildly, lashing out mostly with his feet, as his arms were now pinned to his sides. The second man sneered and lashed out at him in return. His right eye and lower lip were stinging and aching, though he continued to struggle. The man holding him shook him violently for a moment, before pulling his body even closer, pressing up against him.

"Listen here. You can give us your money right now, and we'll be on our merry way, or you can continue to fight us. I promise, kiddo, if you do the latter, you'll regret it." Feliciano felt his attacker press his body even more against his. This time, though, he understood what the man was saying. He went completely still when he felt the robber's erection pressed against the inside of his left thigh. The man let out a short laugh. "Oh yeah. Keep quiet, kiddo, and stop hitting me and my friend here, or I'll fuck you raw and leave you for the vultures to pick up the scraps." Feliciano remained completely still as the second man rifled through his pockets, withdrawing his coin purse and also pulling the knife from his belt.

"Now that I think about it," the first man said as his friend indicated that that was all Feliciano had, "you really are a pretty little thing anyway. Why don't I show you a good time?" Feliciano started to struggle again as the man pressed him up against a wall, breathing down his neck. "Come on now," the man continued, "it'll be fun. I can show you how it's really done." Feliciano thrust his knee upwards, and the man shouted a curse, staggering away a little.

He was unable to take more than a step away, though, before he was slammed back against the wall again. A sharp, intense pain manifested in his side, and he looked down, stunned to see the hilt of his own knife jutting from his torso. He half slid sideways before the man he'd hit grabbed him, forcing him back upright.

"You little shit." He spat as he pinned him against the wall by his throat, pulling at his own trousers. "You won't ever walk again once I'm done with you." The knife was pulled roughly from his side and he nearly blacked out from pain before he was slammed onto the ground, the enraged robber crawling on top of him. He struggled feebly, pushing at the heavier man with his hands, vision spinning as his side burned with pain. He could feel the man's hands roving, pulling at his clothes, and felt bile rise in his throat.

Distantly, he heard shouting from the other man, the accomplice. The man on top of him froze, and, somehow, the pressure on top of him was alleviated. By the time Feliciano's vision had cleared sufficiently, they were both gone. Bewildered, he twisted around to see a trio of patrol officers walking out on the main street. He breathed out slowly. Those two must have been new to the Szwicza District. In any other part of Bibesti, law enforcement would stop an attack, but here in Szwicza, it was a different story. Just a few weeks ago, he'd heard a story of a group of officers who had come across someone who had been mugged. Rather than helping them or taking them to the hospital, they had gang-raped them.

Vision still blurry and breathing erratic, Feliciano flipped himself onto his stomach and forced himself to his feet. His hand drifted to his side, and it came away slick and red. Pressing a hand to the injury and hoping that nothing vital had been hit, he staggered onward in the direction of their apartment building.

Resistance Headquarters,
Draak-Zafi Forra, Nyma,
30th Maii

Ayshe raised an eyebrow at the layout of the building. The floor plans had been retrieved by a nervous, Iramese pilot named Yelisa about an hour ago at her request, and Ayshe had spent nearly all of that time looking from the plans to Yao, and back to the plans again.

"It certainly doesn't look like a highly-guarded communications centre." She said. Yao nodded, frowning at the plans sternly.

"No, that it doesn't. It's good for us, though. Since the layout is fairly simple, it would be easy to navigate the inside. The real challenge comes with getting into the building in the first place. The outsides of the building are very heavily monitored, and they have three layers of guarded checkpoints."

Ayshe whistled "Challenging indeed. What would we get out of infiltrating this place?"

Yao gave her a shrewd smile. "It's a communications centre. If we plant a bug in their system, we'd be able to intercept their transmissions, and it would make undermining the Union all that much easier. We wouldn't be able to act on every piece of information we receive, obviously, as they would cotton on fairly quickly, but it would be very helpful to have that option." Ayshe nodded again, a grin stretching across her features.

"So, we go in, plant a bug, get out and reap the rewards?" Yao nodded. "Okay, well I'm in if you need any volunteers."

"I knew that you would be." Yao said quietly, frowning a little. Ayshe blinked, gazing at him in concern.

"Yao? Are you alright?" she asked, moving towards him.

"It's going to be a dangerous mission, is all," he said. Ayshe's expression softened, and she clasped her hand over his own.

"I've done dangerous things before. I'll pick a capable crew, don't worry." Yao was silent for a moment, and Ayshe saw his eyes fall to where her hand was placed over his. He withdrew his hand from hers, turning away a little. Quickly disguising the hurt on her face, she listened as he spoke.

"I was thinking, actually, that I would appoint a few people to go along myself." He said, tone measured. Ayshe drew back a little, hurt rising up again. She nodded, though, forcing herself to regain her composure.

"Of course," she said, tone losing its usual warmth. "As you see fit." She turned on her heel and marched off, not giving him the chance to explain his sudden change in mood. He had been acting a little oddly lately, but she wasn't brave enough to ask why. It always seemed to be whenever she tried any sort of physical contact or anything more…personal. He had been very withdrawn in the fortnight or so following his trial. She understood that. After what he had detailed on the stand…well, the idea that physical contact made him uncomfortable was completely expected. She had initially assumed that he had to recover from the traumatic experience of spilling the darkest aspects of his past, but it seemed to be a principle which applied only to her.

It hurt, far more than anything else, that she was the one he was choosing to not trust. They had been friends for years, ever since she'd rescued him from the Arbiter. In the early days of his recovery, she had always been by his side, something which even Arshad hadn't been able to do. She wrapped her arms around herself. Perhaps that was it. Yao had loved Arshad, after all. The trial had likely only reminded him of that fact. He had once told her that his heart felt like it had been pushed to capacity. Clearly, she thought. If he has room for a dead man, and not me.

It was cruel to think that way, though. Yao had had an exceptionally hard life, and it was awful that she thought she had the right to a place in it. Nonetheless, her mood was low, and she walked towards the firing range with a drawn look on her face.

"…That's an interesting group of people to choose for a mission, Yao." Mohammed said, casting a sideways glance at him. "Are you sure that it'll work? It is a very high-stakes operation."

"I've been trying to reserve my judgement, but," Octavia said, "even I'm not sure about this."

"They'll be fine. That crew or nothing." Yao snapped, mood worn thin by the hurt look on Ayshe's face he'd seen earlier. He had been trying to distance himself in order to preserve her feelings, and yet he had only ended up hurting them more. Octavia and Mohammed exchanged a look, but clearly picked up on Yao's sour mood, and didn't comment again.

Yao turned his gaze away, glaring at the table as Octavia picked up the list he'd compiled.

"So…Kirkland, his two subordinates, Ayshe, Lukas, Tino and the two recruits from the criminal group." She set down the list again. "I'll send out word that they've been drafted for a mission." She hesitated for a moment, as if hoping that Yao would change his mind, but upon receiving silence, she turned and exited the tent. Mohammed looked as if he wanted to speak, but decided against it, bowing his head a little and following Octavia out.

Yao sighed, leaning back in his chair. He had been high-strung ever since the trial, and couldn't seem to relax himself. Trying to deal with the stubbornness of Arthur Kirkland, in addition to Lukas' increased desire to fight and the continuing issue of the criminals they had taken prisoner, had run him down. His troubles had only been further burdened by the uncomfortable realisation which he had come to not long after his trial. It had haunted him relentlessly since, however much he might try to deny its existence.

The group which he had chosen to go on this mission was a reckless choice. A part of him already regretted it, but another, louder part of his brain was satisfied. Try as he might to deny it, he felt as though he was sending away several of his problems at once. With Kirkland, Ayshe, Lukas and two of the criminals who had chosen to join their side out of the way, however briefly, he might actually get the chance to relax a little.

Though his real intentions were less than kind, Yao had actually had good reasons for picking the crew that he had. Kirkland had to prove himself worthy on a constant basis, and had already shown his aptitude in performing heists and break-ins. His input on the mission, in addition to that of his talented subordinates, would be invaluable. Ayshe was an excellent fighter and strategist. She would be able to find ways for all of their talents to be used to their fullest potential. She was going to be the leader of the mission, and Yao doubted that she would have any trouble handling the more reluctant crew-members. Lukas had been clamouring to be allowed to prove himself as a worthy fighter for weeks now. His skills, both natural and supernatural, could have many uses in this mission. If he proved to Yao that he was ready to go to war, Yao would actually consider sending him.

Tino was their best sniper by far, and could also easily keep the ex-pirates and former bounty-hunters in line. He was also friends with Lukas, and Yao knew that the man would look out for the harsh Fynknian and have his back if necessary. As for the two new recruits, well, Alfred was already showing promise. His aim wasn't perfect, but he was a decent fighter. Yao wanted to see if he was made of the same steel as his brother. He already knew that the more bubbly man was fairly committed to their goals, but Yao wanted to ensure that he knew exactly what joining the resistance meant. He couldn't let Matthew protect him forever. The second recruit had barely been a member of their infantry for two weeks, and already he had intrigued Yao. He was clearly a far superior fighter to Alfred, but had remained quiet and reserved. The way he unconsciously stiffened around Garvich told Yao what he needed to know about his parentage, but he wasn't particularly worried. It would do both of the former criminals some good to get to see each other again, and, similar to Alfred, Yao wanted to see how well their newest fighter fared in a proper mission.

He was sorry that Matthew wouldn't be able to join them, but his suspension ended tomorrow, and he knew that the man would quickly re-immerse himself in resistance combat life quickly enough. He leant back in his chair, running a hand back through his hair. Yao sighed. If they all made it back from the mission, he would try and talk to them all, he decided. It wasn't fair of him to try and ignore his problems. That method had never worked before, and there was no reason it would work now.

Standing, he braced himself for the long night of planning to come.