Just realized last night I made a major continuity error. The gala is supposed to be at the end of the Summit, not the beginning. I've gone back and made the appropriate corrections to fix this.

Responses to reviews:

Yemi Hikari: As far as what Shiro does and doesn't know, there are two important things to remember: first, that he's been living among Gold and studying their history and culture for two months now, so he knows enough to be able to recognize most of the slang, historical references, and cultural things. The second is that, as mentioned in Chapters 2 and 3, Golds have invented a chemical that allows people to absorb and retain centuries' worth of information in only a single night of speed-listening. As for not focusing on Shiro's point of view in the last three chapters, the reason I chose to go that route is because the whole sequence of events is such a critical turning point in the book that I felt focusing only on what Shiro could see and hear wouldn't do everything justice. I wanted to strike a balance between that and Shiro's own POV, so I'll try to do it better the next time we reach a major event like that (which thankfully won't be for a while).

Anyway, on with the show.

12/31/17: Reworked the chapter to spend more time on Shiro's reactions to everything, and split things off into two chapters.

Chapter 10: Mad Dogs:

Hyperion

Luna

December 18th, 2840

The two were silent as the lift sped down the tower. A handful of fleeing Golds stood around them, eyes wide with shock and fear as they ripped off strips of fabric from dresses and coats to patch up assorted wounds. Spatters of red dotted the surface of the circular platform as the panicked Aureate did what they could to stop the blood seeping from fresh openings in their bodies. None of the Golds would be able to have their wounds fully tended to until they saw a Yellow at their villa, but the triage efforts would at least ensure none of the Gala attendees on the platform would bleed out before they could get medical attention. Shiro's own breaths were ragged as he fought to hold back the panic attack he knew was coming until he was back in the relative safety of his own quarters. Just because they'd fled the melee upstairs didn't mean that combat wouldn't inevitably spill beyond the two-kilometer spire.

As he bit his lip to fight back images of his time in the gladiator arena, Shiro turned to find Mustang clenching her fists as tears welled up in her eyes. Leto had been adopted as her father's ward as a pawn in one of Pliny's schemes to increase his social standing, but at the same time, the lancer's death was a harsh blow. He seemed like a relatively decent guy to Shiro (or as decent as a pro-hierarchy Gold could be), so while the two men had only met a few days ago, Leto's death had still rattled the time travelling Paladin. As the lift glided down the Sovereign's garden tower, Shiro subtly moved to put himself between Mustang and the crowds. In the chaos, there hadn't been time to check which families these other Golds belonged to, all thoughts of political allegiance abandoned in the name of survival. They had no way of knowing which of these Golds were Augustan loyalists, and which ones were Bellona supporters.

Surrounded by potential enemies on every side and having to pretend to be something he's not, Shiro was on the verge of a flashback at the reminders of his time as a prisoner of the Galra empire. But he couldn't afford to panic now, even as the aristocrats around him (barring Mustang of course) wept as they came down from their adrenaline rushes. He couldn't afford to let his emotions show in public. Not when his survival, when going home to his team, depended on playing his part. He had to stay focused, or he'd be shanked by a Bellona the instant he let his guard down. To distract himself from the memories threatening to overwhelm him, he turned his gaze toward the horizon, where the lights of the moon's capital twinkled beyond the forest separating the Citadel grounds from the city proper. Despite everything that's happened here tonight, he thought, people are just going to keep on living like nothing's happening, oblivious to the power plays and infighting of their Gold overlords. I just hope none of them get caught in the crossfire.

As they neared the bottom of the spire, Shiro's attention was drawn to movement on the ground. They were too high up to make out symbols and house colors, and the forest made it hard to tell how many, but it seemed that other family feuds beside the one between Augustus and Bellona were finding satisfaction tonight. While Shiro had his suspicions about why Darrow instigated this chaos, he was disgusted by the slaughter that continued into the night. He wasn't going to share his theories with Mustang yet, however. Right now, his suspicions were only that, and he did not wish to drive a wedge between Mustang and her friends over baseless accusations. But if Darrow really is part of the Sons of Ares, then it's safe to assume that the resistance has a concrete plan for bringing down the Hierarchy, he pointed out to himself, tentatively hopeful that this era might be a better place by the time he finally returned to his own era.

He was snapped out of his thoughts as the lift finally touched down in a clearing. They'd taken a different lift than the one used by the Augustan entourage mere hours before, but Shiro had learned every route through the gardens over the last few weeks as Mustang's "bodyguard". She grabbed his hand as she led him away from the crowds towards their quarters, her razor drawn and extended in her other. There was no telling whether the Sovereign would permit the Bellona to harm Mustang or not. It's like the War of the Five Kings, Shiro remarked silently as they reach their suites, reminiscing how he and Keith had binged Game of Thrones in between semesters at the Garrison back before his capture. All these "noble houses" trying to kill each other… The only difference is the setting. Mustang's voice brought him back to the present as they made their way away from the lift. The other occupants scattered in different directions as each headed to access their ships and fly home, many families carrying their wounded.

"That gorydamn idiot!" She fumed with a frustrated growl once they were far enough away not to be heard. "I had everything planned out, and then I have to throw months of careful planning out the window because Darrow decided he needed to settle his rivalry with Cassius publicly like a petty, insecure child."

"I'm not entirely sure it was that simple," Shiro replied cautiously, glancing around to make sure nobody was in earshot. "I think he might have known, or at least suspected, that the Sovereign was working with the Bellona." Mustang's anger settled as she quickly followed the lancer's train of thought.

"Meaning that the duel was part of a plan to force Octavia to reveal her hand," she finished with a small smile. "By putting her in a position where she has no choice but to reveal her favoritism, he generates public sympathy for my father, thereby allowing House Augustus to outmaneuver the Bellona." Her face frowned as she worked the theory through in her mind. "But then he didn't need to antagonize the entire Bellona family like that. It was as if he wanted the rivalry between the two houses to explode the way it did."

"I think the only way to get an answer about that is to ask him yourself," the Black Paladin commented. "I assume you at least have a plan to get us both out of this mess?" Mustang smirked.

"As if I ever do anything without contingencies for contingencies, goodman," she quipped, the humor in her voice injecting some levity into the seriousness of their situation. But before she could tell him further, she jerked her head upwards, looking to the sky. Shiro heard them a second later, and he took a half-step closer to her with his razor in hand so that they stood back to back as dark shapes impacted the ground like Robeast pods. They landed on the grass between the trees, cutting the two off from escape. Obsidian Praetorians landed in a circle, the titanic Stained like golems carved from the stone of a mountain. The towering slave knights dressed in dark purple armor inlaid with black, a shade uncomfortably like the hull of a Galra battle cruisier.

The Gold landed last, coming down on one knee before standing up and allowing his helmet to fold back into his armor. ArchLegate Lucius au Sejanus stood before them, cape billowing in the wind, his armor the same black and purple of his Obsidian shock troops. Shiro gulped, both at Sejanus' presence and the intention this show of force implied.

"What is the meaning of this, Sejanus?" Mustang demanded, putting on a mask of indignation as she moved to confront the ArchLegate.

"Sovereign's orders, Lady Augustus," the Golden man replied sharply as he stepped forward. "All members of the Augustus household, barring yourself, are to be placed under house arrest until further notice. Your bodyguard must join the other members of your father's retinue at their villa." Shiro scowled in suspicion. If the Sovereign planned to have House Augustus wiped out, it would make sense to gather everyone under one roof before she brought the hammer down.

"Terranova comes with me," Mustang snapped firmly. "My father may be the one who pays him, but it was I who convinced him to hire the man in the first place. If Octavia is concerned about security, he can stay in his quarters in the Citadel. But his loyalty is to me, and me alone." Sejanus looked like he was about to argue before he cocked his head to the side as if hearing something they couldn't. The man's brow furrowed, and Shiro quickly deduced that the ArchLegate was receiving new orders from the Sovereign. Finally, he gestured for his troops to stand down and turned back to the ArchGovernor's daughter and her faux-bodyguard.

"Very well," the man said. "Terranova may remain in his quarters. But the Sovereign would like you to oversee the Praetorian command's efforts to restore order." Mustang and Shiro exchanged a glance. While they weren't normally worried about what might happen to him when they were out of each other's sight, tonight was different. But right now, they didn't have a choice. She mouthed Plan C to him before she gestured for him to deactivate his razor. Shiro nodded, recognizing the unspoken instruction to get his Paladin armor packed as soon as he got back to his suite.

"Do I have your word that he will not be harmed?" she demanded as they clipped their inactive weapons to their belts. They both knew that if the Sovereign wanted to, she would have the Black Paladin killed whether she gave her word or not. But for appearances' sake, Mustang had to ask the question anyway as a formality.

"I swear on the honor of my house that no harm will come to Shiro au Terranova by my hand or those of my men," Sejanus answered formally. But the Sovereign is free to have someone else do the deed, Shiro translated the political double-speak in his head. Which means that I'm going to need to pack quickly and be out of the room before Lune sends a hit squad. Mustang nodded at Sejanus' words, just as aware of the double meaning as Shiro was.

"Very well," she said calmly before she turned to the Black Paladin. "Terranova, return to your quarters and await further instructions. The ArchLegate can guide me to the Sovereign's chambers from here."

"Are you certain, goodlady?" he asked, only partially for show. While he knew she could take care of herself, that didn't stop him from worrying. Mustang had become like a sister to him over the last two months, and he didn't want anything to happen to her. Mustang looked him in the eyes and nodded.

"I am," she replied. Shiro held back a sigh. He was going to have to deal with the kill squad alone then. It wasn't an unexpected scenario. They'd prepared for such an eventuality, but these circumstances were far from ideal. At least there was no indication that Lune's court suspected the truth about him. They were only coming after him as an employee of House Augustus, and not for impersonating a Gold.

"As you wish, then," the time traveler responded. And with that, they parted ways. Mustang took a few seconds to latch up the spare gravBoots Sejanus had brought for her, then gave him a reassuring glance before she took off into the sky. Shiro took a deep breath and allowed the Obsidians to guide him back to his quarters. The giants were silent as they marched through the Citadel grounds. Shiro held his breath as he walked. The average Obsidian was as physically imposing as Zarkon, and if Sejanus were to go back on his word and order them to attack him (an unlikely scenario, but still possible), he'd be overwhelmed in seconds, even with the surprise of his arm on his side.

Thankfully, nothing happened, and his escorts brought him back to his suite without incident. As soon as he closed the door, he activated a jamField and got to work. Once the door was locked, he put on his datapad and made a beeline for the closet. He knew that one way or another, he was leaving Luna tonight. So it was time for him to start packing.

Shiro and Mustang are beginning to get closer to the truth when it comes to Darrow, although it will be multiple chapters before either of them get any answers.

Terminology:

RipWing: Standard military Starfighters of the Society navy. Descriped as looking like two bats glued back to back.

StarShell: Armored space suits designed for ship-to-ship and air-to-surface combat.

Domina/Dominus: Term used by lowColors when being deferential to Golds. Plural form Dominii