I may or may not be drowning in homework right now (I have two essays in English due next week - someone please kill me now, along with an AP World History presentation - again, someone please kill me now; we only have three days to put together a costume, write up a paper, and get ready for a debate - an Algebra II/Trig test to study for - LIMITS LIMITS LIMITS WHY, and more) - but I decided to take a deep breath and a few steps back.

So. Enjoy!

Badlands three.

Abandonment

("the city's ours until the fall")

Rex didn't mind kids. Not really. As long as they kept to themselves and didn't cause trouble, then he found them just fine.

He did not, however, like them when they were running away from him to avoid discipline.

Because those kids needed just that. Discipline.

Rex had been hearing news of how there were children spraying paint all over the walls of public buildings, not only causing grief for the owners of the buildings, but also for the people who had to clean it up later. (Mostly droids, yes, but there had to be people to monitor those droids – and frankly, the money for those droids could be used elsewhere.) Rex had been feeling a bit annoyed about being sent on patrolling and (technical) baby-sitting duty over something as silly as this, too, but he had been told that someone needed to get the job done – "and besides, you've been around kids before. You'll set them straight."

But dammit, these kids were fast.

Rex had found them standing in the shadow of one of the more expensive apartment complexes. Rex didn't even know how the kids were able to get to the apartment complexes without getting caught in the first place. For one, the people who lived in those apartments were stinking rich – practically rolling around in credits – and always dressed as though they were about to go on a special occasion. They were the type of people who never had a speck of grime or soot on their pods (which was practically impossible, since they lived on Coruscant, for kriffin' sake). They were the type of people with children who looked like little plastic dolls. They were the type of people who pretended to look superior and poised when going in public but would end up getting drunk in their own private bars at four in the morning. (And probably having some kind of drunken affair. Rex always saw the look the shinies had on their faces after their first few days of guarding those apartment complexes. Most of the time, it was disbelief – sometimes amusement – but most commonly, it was annoyance. And Rex couldn't find it in himself to blame them. There were times he felt pretty tempted to throw down his helmet in front of those people, too.)

These kids – these kids – wouldn't have ever fit into this kind of neighborhood.

There were three of them – one boy and two girls. The boy had black hair, cropped short around the sides and long at the front. He had small, practically black eyes and wore clothes dirtied with weeks – maybe months and years – of living on the streets. And despite all that, he carried an air of superiority around himself, as though he was the prince of the street urchins.

One of the girls had ashy blonde hair tied back in a set of pigtails. She wore a pair of taped-up glasses, and though she was incredibly small, she, too, had a fiery look about her. Her knees were scraped – her hands were wrapped up in bandages, some new and others old – and her voice was shrill even from a few feet away.

The next girl had a curious set of brown eyes, luminous and glinting from underneath the shadows. Her skin was brown and wrinkled – and only after a few minutes of watching her, Rex figured that she was Dressellian – or maybe half. She certainly had the general appearance of one, but her body type and the hair growing from her head showed different traits.

The three were all carrying bottles of spray paint, scrawling angry messages over the metal and laughing quietly amongst themselves.

"This'll really piss them off, don't you think, Levi?" the blonde asked the black-haired boy.

The black-haired boy – Levi, Rex assumed – only smiled slightly. "Don't get cocky," was his only response. "You know the drill – leave your message and then we'll go. And this time, Saoirse, try not to make your message too long. No more than three words this time."

Saoirse tsked. "I can't help it," she said cheerfully, shaking the spray paint can recklessly in her hand. "Liberty needs to be spoken in many words."

"Or it can be spoken in few," the Dressellian-esque girl piped up. "There are many ways to get a point across. And besides, I think shorter messages are easier to remember."

"Azadeh, you're always taking his side!" Saoirse sighed dramatically. "You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were crushing on him."

At this, both Levi and Azadeh started to protest – only Saoirse held up her paint-colored palms, laughing, "Relax, you two! I'm only teasing!" She paused. "Wait a second – but are you guys –"

"Let's just get this done," Levi said hastily, picking up the other spray paint cans. "Come on, Saoirse – stop wasting time!"

Before Saoirse could say anything, Rex called after them, "Hey! You three!"

The spray paint can tumbled out of Saoirse' hand in shock.

"Again?" Azadeh said incredulously.

"No time – move, move, move!" Levi shouted, pushing both Azadeh and Saoirse ahead of him. Rex faltered a little, watching with some admiration (and surprise) at the sudden protectiveness the boy had over his friends. The three children tumbled down the streets, their legs pumping quickly underneath them and their arms flailing.

"Hey!" Rex called again, running after them. "I'm not going to – dammit, I just need to talk to you three!"

"Saoirse! Don't look back!" Azadeh screamed at the blonde, who was starting to turn her head. Azadeh took Saoirse's hand and yanked her along, not once turning to see if Rex was still chasing them. (He was.)

The four of them kept running – the kids obviously knew their way around the streets, taking sudden turns and jumping up on speeders at the right moment. They were good – really good, moving swiftly and gracefully. Levi was a blur of black and white, while Saoirse mimicked the movements of an insect – wild and with out-of-control limbs, but somehow able to land perfectly on her feet. Azadeh, on the other hand, wasn't quite as fast as Saoirse or Levi, but she took the right shortcuts, always being the one to shout out the best directions.

If Rex didn't know Coruscant himself, those kids would have definitely gotten away.

Only Rex did know the city.

And the kids didn't know that.

He saw the sign of the sector first – he was coming closer to a certain shortcut. Levi, Azadeh, and Saoirse were still speeding ahead of him, kicking up as much dust as they possibly could. Rex almost felt like laughing – they were so frantic, so careful…

Rex fell back into an alley. He vaguely remembered how this one particular alley was connected to multiple other streets – and if he was remembering correctly, this alley would be the key to getting ahead of the kids. It was a simple surprise attack tactic – and it felt a bit cheap, seeing that Rex was just using it on a bunch of pesky kids, but still. He had to do what he had to do, even if it was as small as something as this.

Rex ducked through other pedestrians, shoving past them and only barely muttering his apologies as they stumbled away from him. If he ran a bit faster, he could probably make it – unless Azadeh suddenly thought of a different route to avoiding him.

He would have to get there first.

Rex came short of a ladder. He stopped in front of it for a second – and after a quick calculation, he started to scramble up its rungs. He pushed himself forwards, climbing higher and higher until he was standing on the roof of an apartment complex.

Rex took a quick sweep of the city below him – and then, finally, he spotted them. They were coming quickly, totally unaware that Rex was standing almost directly on top of them.

He scrambled down the opposite ladder – and landed promptly in front of Levi.

Almost instantly, the boy crashed into his armor, Azadeh and Saoirse coming shortly after. The two girls let out a sharp cry of surprise and pain as they hit the ground. Levi was already starting to scramble up to his feet, grabbing Azadeh and Saoirse by the wrists – only this time, it was Rex who was too quick for them.

"Alright, you three," Rex said sternly, grabbing them by the collars. "Now, I'm not looking for trouble – I just want to talk."

"Yeah, right!" Saoirse snapped, struggling under Rex's grip.

"Let us go!" Azadeh spat, her hands balled into fists. "Let – us –"

Rex pressed down a sigh. Hoisting them all over his shoulders, he walked off to the side of a building. He was attracting some attention now – people were stopping on the streets, staring at Rex strangely.

"It's all under control," he said, lifting a hand. "Nothing's wrong."

"Damn right, there's something wrong!" Saoirse shrieked, pounding her fists against Rex's back. "Help! He's kidnapping us! He's kidnapping us! Someone, call for –"

Rex actually sighed this time. He set the three kids against the building, towering over them. Almost instantly, they started to disperse – but this time, Rex pushed them against the building again, leaving them absolutely powerless against his strength.

"Listen – listen," he said, this time sounding a little more desperate. "I'm not trying to hurt you guys – I just wanted to tell you three to stop painting on the kriffin' walls. It's been getting on a lot of citizens' nerves – and it's been causing trouble."

"So?" Levi asked sullenly. "I don't see why we should care."

"This is Coruscant, kid," Rex replied, annoyed. "And more specifically, you were painting on the walls of some pretty important peoples' apartments. Do it somewhere else – do it in a place that might be able to tolerate your little drawings – or just don't do it at all."

Levi barked out a laugh. "Sorry to break it to you…what are you? A commander? A captain?" He waved his hands. "Never mind. It doesn't matter. You guys all look the same to me."

Rex automatically felt something defensive kick up in his chest – but Levi didn't seem to notice. He continued, "Those rich folks? Them and us?" He snorted. "They don't care. They didn't care about the way we were living – so we don't care about the way they're living. And besides…" He picked up a spray paint can. Shaking it in front of Rex's face, he said, "I think they can tolerate a little bit of dirt on their perfect world." His lips curled into a bitter scowl. "God knows they're good at getting themselves dirty, anyways."

"You…still can't paint on their walls."

"Why not?" This time, it was Saoirse who spoke. Her grey eyes were flashing angrily from the metal around her. "We're kids. We're poor. We're not even legal to get a real job or anything. Technically, we should have been given to a foster home – or set into some system that protects kids – but instead, we're here, aren't we? We have to look after ourselves – we have to feed ourselves, clothe ourselves, try to make a living for ourselves…meanwhile, all of those rich people get to live cushy, comfortable lives without sparing a single thought for the kids – and for the families – who've been abandoned to their wealth. After all of that, I think they can at least tolerate a few messages on their walls."

Rex stared. He let his eyes linger on each of them – at Levi's suddenly too-pinched, pale cheeks – at the bandages crumbling around Saoirse's hands – at the sparse hair growing on Azadeh's head.

He had seen poverty before – that much was inevitable. It was everywhere. Even if you were blind, you'd see it. You'd hear it. You'd smell it.

"What do you three even write?" Rex asked. "I…didn't get to see."

"Simple things," Azadeh replied softly. "Painful things. Things that could make them guilty."

"Like?"

"Remember us," the three chorused.

At this, something got caught in Rex's throat.

"Remember us," he repeated.

"Remember us," Azadeh said quietly. "Remember the ones who weren't born into comfortable lives. Remember the majority of us – remember us, who are making up the new generation. Remember us, the generation that's already being forced to crush themselves underneath the feet and will of the rich."

The three children stared up at Rex, the old spark of denial lighting up in their eyes again – as though daring him to say something.

So he did.

"Hand me a can," Rex said simply.

The children blinked up at him, surprised.

"Why?" Levi asked suspiciously.

"Just give it."

It was Azadeh who finally let Rex have a spray paint can.

And then the four were walking back to the rich apartment complexes.

Wordlessly, they all wrote two words.

Remember us.

A/N - Because it was asked - the last two chapters were based off the songs Castle and Hold Me Down - this one is based off of New Americana. (Just look up the Badlands album and go through the sequence of the songs. That should give a proper idea of what order I'm going in.)

I'm not going to lie, you guys - I'm going through a really tough time with school and track practice (yes, Caroline has decided to join a sport! And pretend to be a Jedi in the process! (And epically failing. But whatever, it's the attitude that counts, right?) and just life problems in general. I've been trying really hard to push certain toxic people out of my life (it's proving to be a lot harder than I thought it'd be) and also trying to fit in the expectations of others. (Again, going back to school problems and friend issues and teachers and family.)

Basically, it's all a lot and I feel like here is where I can fully breathe without feeling like someone's about to punch me in the stomach. So. That's probably going to be why I'll be struggling to sound super excited/happy/cheerful in my notes - because really, I'm not too cheerful about the direction my life is heading. All I can ask of you guys is to please be patient with me and see this as just another hurdle I'll have to jump over.

As always, reviews are (greatly, greatly, greatly) appreciated (now more than ever). Constructive criticism is bearable, but flames are not.