Disclaimer: I do not own the very few DBZ characters in this.

A.N.: In my honest opinion, the first Act wasn't all that good, but it was an introduction. If you felt Act 1 was missing something, you'll probably be happy with this one. Act 1 was there truly to introduce the main characters and the world they live in. NOW let's get into the story...





DBX
Act II
Revolution



Prologue
The theater was dark and crowded, the movie quite sappy. A boy sat in the exact center seat of the theater, calmly eating his popcorn. Suddenly, he just stopped eating and gazed down into the barrel. He looked to the seat behind him, then back to the barrel, a wide grin spreading across his face.
Without warning, the boy stood and flung the bucket of popcorn behind him, into the face of a man. The man hastily wiped the kernels off his face and jumped up, "Hey, man, who the hell do you think you are, huh?"
The boy's grin disappeared immediately as he answered with authority, "Savi Konasha, Master Legionnaire of the Legion of Conquest." With an upward swipe of his hand, the man flew against and through the wall. This event caused quite a commotion, as everyone took any exit available. In a matter of minutes, the theater was quiet and empty. Empty, save for one other customer.
This viewer was wearing a long, terra cotta trench coat and hat to match. These were shed immediately as the man stood. By the time they hit the ground, he was standing with legs apart, a rod sword drawn and held with both hands, the hilt at level with his head, common stance for a warrior swordsman. However, a major difference in the man was that he was young and a symbol of that of a sword facing down shown on his back and front. He was armor-clad in the uniform of red and black. The color of Vengeance.
There was no exchange of words before the battle. "Savi" flung his arms up, sending ten rows of chairs toward the soldier. The first chair reflected first in the soldier's eye, then his sword, as he slashed cleanly through each one, then resuming his previous position. Savi brought his arm up, letting a switchboard and screen pop up. He calculated the numbers.
"Only a thou- Ooowaa!" He had dodged the kamehamaha at the last second. Aggravated, he flung two more rows at the soldier. However, instead of slicing them, the soldier sheathed his sword and leapt out of the way. While in the air, he executed over a hundred energy volleys, all in the radius of where Savi was floating. A common technique, Savi noted to himself. The Legionnaire easily dodged the blasts.
Stopping the volley, the soldier charged a quick blast, and flung it with great speed. Savi hadn't expected that speed and was hit directly the face by the charge, flinging him back in the air. He brought his face back through the mist cloud that had formed. He swore that he could see a strange green light reflect within the soldier's pupils.


Chapter 1
Overrule

"All I'm saying is that I have more experience in that area. I know military tactics, and I can train soldiers." Aidam put both hands on the table and stood.
"You trained the soldiers and planned the Elimination; that failed." Shane observed from his seat.
"It failed because of intervention. And it made us realize that Cinder is an imperfect prospect, and should not be used again."
It was 10:03 a.m., and the remainder of the council knew that each minute would last an hour at this rate. They'd been debating since 8:30, and it was actually heated. However, most of the council still knew Aidam didn't have a chance of winning the argument when against that of Trunks and Shane.
"Chancellor," Hyle Ericson explained, "you have to look at the statistics. The concentration of a military faction within Direct itself, even this long after the uprisings, will bring concern upon us and maybe more hate. Also," he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, "Having a separate military power and a political power, in time, the two will feud. It's happened before, it will happen again. We've merged the two in hopes to stop that feuding, and it's worked, ever since Direct was created. You can't deny that."
"Gentlemen, I close this meeting with a thought." Aidam stood tall and proud, as if he knew something everyone else didn't, "All across this world, revision is taking place. And yet, we stay the way we are. If the world is to change, we must change with it. What with the Cinder incident, how many more lives may be in danger unless we increase our military?"

It had been two months since the uprising and Trevor's death, two months since the thought of war. Now, Aidam has left the concept of war, knowing that it will never occur. He had begun to make a new agenda for a separate military faction, only for the sole purpose of defense against unknown foes. So far, he's wrecked his old reputation and has gone to work creating a new, stronger one.
But all thoughts of anything were interrupted with a transmission of the news broadcast: "All mobilized investigation officers, head to the Crownling Movie Plaza. Hyle ran; his aids behind him.

The area was already crawling with specialists, and they weren't Direct.
Hyle pulled up and got out of the cruiser. "What the- why are Exodus specialists here?"
"It's our field." Keith Alcolm was behind them, and had now walked in front of them. "Not yours." He said to Hyle.
When one of his aids started to protest, Hyle motioned to wait. He glared into the eyes of the Exodus specialist. Rick glared back. They never broke gaze for several minutes. Finally, Hyle's efforts to intimidate or break Mr. Alcolm ended when he shut his eyes tight and turned away, broken himself. Keith blinked after, grinning.
When he had seen them be gone, he turned back to the scene and listened to the communicator in his ear. He lifted the flap of his jacket near his mouth, "Is Tren here yet?" he listened, "Well, where is he? We need him for this investigation." He listened a little more, "Alright, send Rick over here, Arace needs some help."
Rick Yune and Arace Kellen were not Exodus' finest, but they were still close. Arace had the expert analysis of crime scenes while Rick was always ambitious enough to try to dig deeper. Arace was already questioning when Rick arrived and she jogged over to fill him in.
"We found a soldier of the Sword of Vengeance under some of the rubble. He's being attended to by medics and questioned."
"He's still alive?"
"Yes! I'm still alive!" he called over, he obviously had heard the conversation. He continued to murmur when they reached him, "Why didn't he kill me? It was like he had honor."
"What happened?"
"I was- hey, wait a minute." He looked them over, focusing on the odd circle of slashes symbol on their shoulders. "You guys are Exodus. Why aren't you SV?"
"Listen, you fight the battles, we investigate and record them. Now please, tell us what happened."
"Sorry, uh," he looked at his ID, "Rick Yune, I can't do that, made by my code."
"We're not at war here, this isn't a government secret! Just tell us something to help, please!" Rick bellowed. The soldier just sat and grinned. Rick turned away and cursed. He started away, and Arace followed.
"Rick, please, we can keep trying." She tried to soothe his anger, but he whirled on her.
"We have to stop this rivalry." He told her tersely, "We have to, or nothing will ever get done." He walked aways, then took out his earpiece and clenched in his fist. Then he wailed to the sky, "Where are you, Tren!!?"

"Focus you're thoughts. Become one with yourself and the program. Anticipate all. Go."
The program began. One module came up, and was blown away just as fast as its partner. Vor focused now on the back, but flipped the gun around and fired behind him on the right, then on the left. There was one explosion. Then he felt a searing sting on his right shoulder, causing him to fall to the floor and for the program.
"That third shot fired, the one behind you, you missed. I'll give you some direction this time."
"I don't need any direction!"
"Go."
Vor was surprised at the sudden recoil, but shot down the first two bots as he had before. Then the direction came. "Turn!" Vor turned his body and arm. "Look!" Vor forced his eyes to the ascending bot. "Fire!" he did, the shot hit its mark, but immediately after, he felt the pain in his left shoulder and again fell and again the program ended.
"Good job."
"Good!? I got shot!"
"Yes. But you hit the mark you missed before."
"I still got shot!" Vor yelled indignantly.
"Perhaps a deal of improvisation is needed. Again. Go." Tren's voice didn't speak at all from then on till the end of the program.
Vor focused this time more than ever. The first two came and went in a blaze of sizzled steel. Vor turned, looked, shot, hit, and heard the surge coming. His mind felt it, and told the body what to do. He turned back and cartwheeled to his left, the beam sang between his legs in mid-turn. While upside-down in the air, he fired, then landed with a hard Thump! on the floor, his boots hitting multiple times.
PROGRAM COMPLETED
Vor lifted himself up and stared at the charred remains of the bot in disbelief. His mouth kept forming the words "How?"
"Well done, take a rest." Tren's window covered itself with a black shield. From within, he turned to Jim and said, "You were right, he is stubborn."
Jim laughed at that.

Rick parked his cruiser and got out. The building wasn't all that extravagant, at least on the outside. The only impressive part had to be the symbol of the downward sword on the door. He entered after staring at the symbol for a time.
The lobby was small, narrow, and empty, save for one very silent clerk who stayed that way even when talked to. Rick finally got frustrated, "Why do you hate us? Why do you hate the outside world?"
"It isn't the outside world, sir, it is the ideas within it."
What? "I, don't understand."
"And you never will." The clerk said nothing more, just stared into space as if in a trance.
Rick left with nothing more to say and decided to see if there was a back door. There wasn't, but he wasn't alone in the alley.
"You consort with things you know nothing of, boy." The voice was deep and above. Rick turned and immediately looked to the fire escape. Perched massively on the rung and stretching also onto the railing was a black and red armor-clad thing, with three robotic wings protruding from his chest-plate over his back. He was masked, more of a helmet really, with a shortened snout-like front and a white eye-visor. Not clear, but white.
"I would not atone a course of action that would lead to hostility between peaceful factions so far."
Rick returned simply, "But I would." The perched man shifted position. "If it would kill these ideas of superiority and secrecy and honor. There is no honor without truth." Rick hefted his coat over his shoulder, pleased with his words, and strode out of the street to his cruiser.

The captain pushed down the intercom switch, "Yes, you can send him in." The soldier from the movie plaza entered, fitted in new uniform and bandaged. "Ah, Erik, welcome back."
"Sir, I believe I can continue my training sooner than anticipated." The soldier named Erik said, straightening.
"Ah, heh heh, and, uh, when would that be?" the captain asked slowly.
"Well, I would say....now."
"Heh heh heh, right." The captain stood, "And how would your injury be right now, hm?"
"It's only a burn, and the medics have tended to it." He hastened to say.
"Hmm," the captain studied Erik's face, "Indeed." He sighed, examining the way Erik contorted his face so very slightly to hide the pain. "Take one week and then I'll see you back on duty, all right?"
"But Captain! I can fight easily, it's only a scratch, I-
"You-are-dismissed, Sergeant."
Erik, hurt and embarrassed, turned defiantly and left.
"He's right, Jonathon." The voice was deep and full; dark. The captain tensed up and grappled for the gun in his desk drawer in the most secret way he could muster. "Who's there?" he managed after it was firmly in his hand.
"Oh, Jonathon, I'm hurt you can't recognize my voice by now." It bellowed. A glowing white slit of a visor appeared in the dark shadow just outside the open window.
"Sir Vengeance!" he shoved the blaster away into his desk, shaking it loudly, "I didn't realize, I-
"You look at Erik's virtue and willingness to fight as if it were a joke." He cut him off plainly, no emotion at all in his voice; hard to read his intent.
"Sir, he's injured, he can't-
"That isn't an injury!" Vengeance was closer than ever, hushing his anger only slightly, "That, is just another reason to continue training. He feels as if by failing in the battle he has failed his teacher. That he has failed me. He knows he can make up for it by training further."
"Sir," Jonathon pleaded, "I am only doing my duty by our code."
"Our CODE!?" he whirled back on him, "Recite it, Captain."
"Sir, is it really necess-
"NOW!"
"H-honor, s-s-stability, Strength, Honor." He stumbled out.
"Again!"
"Honor, Stability, Strength, Honor."
"Again! Louder!" Vengeance paced around Jonathon as he belted the Code of the Sword three times over and spoke over him, "Do not think that I do not know that every Leader knows every crack, every scrape, every smudge in his domain!"
Jonathon stopped reciting, holding still, Vengeance was in his face, whispering, "Do not think I don't know you. I may train the soldiers, but you manage them." He was at the window, "Start respecting them."
Jonathon blinked and Vengeance was gone.


ADMISSION GRANTED
Rick walked in, a folder under his arm, Arace behind him. Tren sat at his desk, "You wanted to meet with me, Rick?"
"Yes, sir. I think we've come up with something." He laid the folder on the table.
Tren motioned, "Rick, Arace, have a seat." Tren himself leaned more onto the table. "So what is this?" he nodded to the folder.
Arace passed it to him, "It's our plan on how to stop the rivalries."
Tren began to read, but then seemed to spasm and press two fingers to his head. Rick stood up and asked urgently, "Tren, what is it!?"
There was a pause, then he brought his fingers down and looked at them. "Get to the Prisoner Station. Now. We'll finish this later." He whispered.
They looked at each other, then dashed out the door.

When they got there, Direct officials had already scoured the area and were filing reports. They caught the gist of it: Cinder had escaped.