Elona 22th, 12 ArS

Lelouch felt despondent the whole next day after his meeting with Suzaku. Slowly he realized that if he was going to help the Mandalorians in any way in the battle against the Republic, he was going to have to stand up to his friend as well. The thought made him completely desolate. C.C.'s sarcastic comments about his lack of resolve didn't help.

On the fourth day after the battle in Grass, an unusually silent Rivalz appeared at the Academy. They met in the corridor at the window during the lunch break.

"I'm glad you're alright," Lelouch said without a trace of pretense.

"I'm glad you got out, too," he replied.

"Does your father know the reason for the attack?"

Rivalz shook his head. He might have been foolish not to ask for help, but Lelouch understood him in a way. He probably would have done the same thing if he were him.

"But I think he knows it has something to do with our outings. He promised he'd kill me if he found out I'd started skipping class again."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm gonna keep looking for money. What am I supposed to do? Look," Rivalz pulled out a small comlink, not even a communicator. "Some jerk in a black-and-red coat gave this shit to me today. It had a nice message from Kajik, like he's glad I'm alive. That asshole, how did he even know?"

Lelouch felt a chill go down his spine. If Kajik's watching Rivals, is he watching him too?

'I wish I'd kept my mouth shut then, I'd only drawn attention to myself!'

Kajik could use him as additional leverage against Rivalz, or worse. The situation was definitely making him angry.

Suddenly, a tall girl with blonde hair appeared in front of them. She gave them a radiant smile.

"Hi, Milly."

"Hi. Rivalz, you finally showed up! We need you so badly, we have to immediately figure out budgets for the clubs."

Rivalz groaned dramatically.

"By the way, Lelouch, Grandpa wants to see you. He told me to tell you," Milly added. "Come on, we're waiting for you at the student council building too! The budgets are supposed to be ready tomorrow."

"Couldn't you tell us tomorrow? Then I wouldn't have to worry…" Rivalz muttered.

On the heavy wooden door hung a gilded plaque announcing that this was the office of the Rector of Ashford Academy, Ruben K. Ashford. Lelouch knocked, waited for the inviting "come in" and pushed the door.

Ruben Ashford was as tall as his granddaughter. His hair was so light that no one knew for sure whether the rector of the Academy had already turned gray or not. He always seemed stern and serious, but in reality he was a gentle and kind man, and he looked at Milly's crazy festivals with a slight chuckle.

"You called for me, Mr. Ashford?" Lelouch asked. He was grateful to the man for taking care of him and Nunnally and not turning them over to his father, even though it could certainly have been to his advantage. After the death of Lelouch's mother, who was a patron of the Ashfords, it hadn't been easy times for the them. They could no longer return to Coruscant, but at least they were able to settle on Mandalore. Extraditing Lelouch and Nunnally would have helped them regain their lost ground. But they didn't take advantage of that opportunity.

"Yes, Lelouch, come in," Ashford nodded to the chair across from his desk. Trying to look as calm and relaxed as possible, Lelouch sat down and directed his gaze somewhere over the rector's head. His face was neutral, but there was tension and displeasure in the Force.

"I recently learned of what occurred to Rivalz. His father was very upset about that. Teachers reported he skipped out of class that day. Just like you. Is there anything you want to tell me?" Ashford gave Lelouch a stern look. Lelouch seemed unperturbed.

'Well, I should have expected him to know,' he thought, and answered aloud with a slight smirk.

"No, I don't feel like it."

Ashford looked at Lelouch reproachfully, which made him feel a little ashamed for once. Not for those particular words, but for his attitude toward the Ashfords' kindness. They'd given him shelter, the opportunity to study, offered him money. And what does he do? He skips classes and gambles for money.

His dependence on the Ashfords was weighing heavily on him. The desire for freedom combined with the lack of a specific purpose in life pushed him to sometimes absurd actions. Maybe he should have repented and had a heart-to-heart talk. And the fact that Suzaku was now a Jedi completely threw Lelouch off balance.

Nevertheless, the habit of always keeping secrets, keeping his feelings to himself and solving problems on his own had taken over again.

"Were you there when Rivalz was kidnapped by the bandits?" Ashford asked bluntly this time.

Lelouch glanced upward somewhere to his right for a second, as if remembering.

"No, we'd already broken up by then," he lied calmly. It was exactly what Rivalz had told everyone, except the Jedi. "I wish I had been there, maybe... I could have helped," he added a little more quietly, lowering his eyes to the floor.

"I don't think you could have made a difference," Ashford sighed, but immediately grew serious again. "Indeed, you're taking a great risk, Lelouch. Not only your life, but your cover. You mustn't do that again, I hope you are being prudent."

"Okay, I understand," Lelouch nodded.

"You know, if you need money, you can just ask for it. Within reasonable limits, of course."

"Thank you, Mr. Ashford."

"You can go now."

Lelouch spent the rest of the day in painful reflection. Suzaku seemed to know what he wanted and how he wanted it. His position was clear. Lelouch was beginning to think that maybe Suzaku was right about him being blinded by hatred. On the day of the battle in the ghetto, it had seemed to him that killing Clovis would solve at least part of the problems, if not all of them. However, such a thing would cause even more violence and hatred. It seemed inevitable and even necessary, but Suzaku said there was an alternative. He and his teacher would deal with Clovis without too many casualties.

Another question was C.C. She stubbornly refused to answer what Clovis wanted from her, nor did she know how the terrorists had found out about her in the first place. Lelouch was angry at the unknown. Clovis must be looking for his subject. What would happen if he found her? Some action had to be taken, but which ones?

He was snapped out of his despondency by Rivalz the next day.

"You're not going to believe this, I've gotten an invitation! To the Babel Tower!"

"Wait, that's..." Lelouch frowned.

"It's an elite hangout! You'll win so damn much cash there, wow! " Rivalz stared at his buddy pleadingly. "Lelouch, please. It's my only chance."

Lelouch nodded, deciding that he should take his mind off his problems.

***

Elona 23th, 12 ArS

The Babel Tower was the jewel of the architecture of the new Sandari. It struck everyone with its beauty. However, only a few knew how deceptive that beauty was.

Lelouch and Rivalz parked at one of the entrances at the bottom of the tower.

"It's a good thing we didn't have an accident this time," Lelouch said with a grin.

"Let me count the number of 'accidents' you'll have while driving. Oh, yeah, you couldn't pass your driver's license," Rivalz said sarcastically. Lelouch only smiled broadly.

"I wasn't referring to your ability as a driver, I was referring to the terrible condition of your aircar."

"Hey, that's not fair, you know why I don't have money for repairs!"

Above the red carpet at the entrance, a sign with the name of the club, "The Black Rabbit", glowed.

They went inside the tower, where Rivalz pulled out a datapad and showed his pass, after which they were searched for weapons. A sweltering purple darkness, neon lights and deafening music was thrust upon them. They found themselves in a sort of luxury cantina. The large room spanned two floors. A giant crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, giving off almost no light and looking ridiculous among the neon tubes. A small red-carpeted staircase led to the second floor, which was separated from the first floor by a railing. Up there, little tables stood, and there were a lot of doors. Downstairs was a bar, pazaak tables, a small stage with Bith musicians and poles on which half-naked Twi'leks twirled. They were all dressed in colorful tight costumes with bunny tails, and on their heads were headbands with bunny ears. One of them, the closest one, swiped her hand invitingly across her lekku.

Lelouch averted his eyes.

'Disgusting…'

He felt sickened, knowing full well that the Twi'leks weren't here of their own free will. The damned riches had enslaved them and forced them to humiliate themselves in front of the public. The rotten system had broken the fates of those who couldn't resist it.

"What now?" he asked Rivalz.

"Uh... We need to find room number thirteen. But we still have plenty of time."

Lelouch felt the Force vibrate slightly with Rivalz's nervousness as they walked through the club in search of a new door. The crowd was pressing in from all sides. Suddenly the music stopped and a loud voice boomed from the ceiling:

"It's time! The long awaited duel between the fearless Mandalorian warrioress and the fierce fighter from Iridonia!"

The crowd of people rushed somewhere to the side, carrying Lelouch and Rivalz with it. They were pushed into the backs of people who were standing at the fence, behind which was a pit, illuminated by floodlights. Lelouch grimaced in disgust as he realized what was about to happen.

Downstairs, in a makeshift arena, two men stood across from each other. One was a Zabrak, covered in tattoos, baring razor sharp teeth. The other was apparently human. Her face was completely hidden by a black and red Mandalorian mask. Both wore filthy, tattered clothing, and slave collars hung around their necks.

"Fight!" announced an invisible speaker.

The two fighters faced each other. The Zabrak charged at the human with a snarl, and the crowd cheered. Although the Zabrak looked much more formidable, the woman held herself very well, one might say, even led the fight.

"Let's get out of here," Lelouch said, unable to bear the sight. He pulled Rivalz by the arm and began to push through the crowd. Still, the Force carried the echoes of pain and rage to him in sickening waves.

The main hall was less crowded, so they had no trouble finding door number thirteen. Two tall guards in gray cloaks with white inserts stood by it.

"Your time hasn't come yet," one of them grumbled, looking at their pass. Lelouch and Rivalz were seated at a table nearby.

"Mafia, huh?" Lelouch said glumly. "You should have said so at first."

"Would you have come then?" said Rivalz in as apologetic a tone as possible.

"Don't know," Lelouch answered honestly. He had played with suspicious people before. How was this time different? Maybe it was the place that demonstrated everything he hated about the place.

Meanwhile, the speaker announced the next bout.

'And I'm part of this rotted mess again,' Lelouch thought wistfully. 'Clearly, without Clovis' connivance, none of this would have happened. Would Suzaku and his teacher be able to deal with it? They'd probably try to drag the organizers into a court of law, which they'd had in their pockets for a long time. It won't do any good. No, everyone here needs to be put up against the wall…'

Suzaku's bright confidence in the peaceful resolution of Mandalore's tangle of contradictions clashed with Lelouch's gloomy pessimism. He wanted to believe in something good... Well, this place didn't do much to take his mind off his troubles. Perhaps he shouldn't have come here.

Lelouch noticed that Rivalz was looking up, and looked there as well. On the second floor there stood two humans. A man with a black beard was talking to a woman with long white hair.

"Is that... the Black King?" Rivalz mumbled, and immediately turned away.

"So the offer came from that Xarn you borrowed money from," Lelouch said. It wasn't even a question, it was a statement.

"Well... Yeah, from him," Rivalz admitted. Lelouch thought that there was some kind of intrigue going on here that they were getting into.

"Does the Black King own this place?" he suggested.

"Uh-huh. So?"

"If Xarn was able to issue you an invitation, then he's close to the Black King. I just don't understand why he would help you make money off his own people when you owe him money."

"Uh," Rivalz scratched the back of his head in puzzlement. He didn't seem to be thinking of any ulterior motives for this Xarn. Lelouch sighed. We'll have to look into that. However, there was too little information for concrete assumptions for now.

Finally, game time had arrived. However, the guards didn't let Rivalz through, leaving him outside since he wasn't going to play.

In a small room, a man of gangly appearance in a flashy leopard jacket was sprawled on a cushioned armchair. His pierced face was red and twisted, his actions nervous and twitchy, as if he were under something. The bandit was young, but it was obvious from his cocky look that he didn't take Lelouch seriously.

"I was told there would be someone here tonight who could outplay the greatest Black King in chess," he snorted. "But you don't look like him, kid."

Lelouch let the attack pass, scrutinizing his companion's emotions in the Force. Interestingly, he mentioned the Black King with an ill-concealed irony and disdain in his voice. This whole situation was becoming less and less pleasant.

The chess on the table was made of real wood, though. Lelouch smiled.

The game was not difficult. For Lelouch, of course. The man across from him turned red even more with indignation. He looked like he'd run a marathon, even taken off his ridiculous jacket. Despite his best efforts, he'd lost.

"You cheated," he finally said at the end of the game. Lelouch frowned irritably.

"This is chess. It's impossible to cheat."

"I don't care! Who the kriff are you to win here?!"

The claim was absurdly ridiculous. Lelouch choked with indignation and bewilderment.

"Some people just don't know how to accept defeat," he said. The bandit jumped up from his chair, pulled out his blaster, and smiled wickedly.

"I'll make you pay for this, little kriffin! I'll get you…"

Lelouch clenched his fists, feeling not just irritation, but hatred. For this disgusting place, for this stoned moron, and for the whole situation. The hatred was boiling, sizzling heat pouring into the Force.

"Don't you dare point that blaster at me," Lelouch said spitefully, jumping up as well. To his surprise, the bandit blinked a few times and lowered his weapon. The guards burst into the room, apparently having heard the screams.

"What's going on?" one of them asked.

"It's all right," Lelouch replied.

"It's all right," the bandit repeated. The guards came out. Lelouch looked at the bandit in disbelief. He stood there with a blank expression on his face.

"How? How did this happen again?" Lelouch thought puzzledly. The Force around him resembled a raging hurricane, of which he was the center. The bandit, on the other hand, could not stand against the storm.

It was a hurricane of burning hatred mixed with grim satisfaction, contempt with pleasant surprise. Lelouch couldn't hold back a broad smile when he realized the power he had in his hands.

"You will free those slaves," he ordered immediately. At last he could do something good, help all these sentients!

Lelouch began to think feverishly about what else he could do in this situation. His hands were trembling with adrenaline and emotion.

"Do you know Xarn?" he finally figured it out, remembering that he needed information.

"That minion of the Black King? Everyone knows him," the bandit snorted. Despite his submissive state, he was still himself.

"Don't you work for the King?" Lelouch asked in surprise.

"What? I am not working for that kriff sucker!" The bandit was indignant.

"Then who do you work for?"

"Virma Norin."

"Who is that?"

The bandit answered quite unambiguously.

"Norin is Norin, isn't it clear?"

Lelouch tried a different approach:

"Well, what's she doing here?"

"She has some business with the King, I don't kriffing know about that shit."

"Okay..." Lelouch frowned in a concentration. He suddenly felt a rapidly growing weakness. It seemed that this subjugation ability was consuming a lot of Force. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm enjoying the opportunity to to kick back! Did you see those Twi'leks?" The bandit said dreamily, despite the fact that he called them a bit dismissively. Lelouch grimaced.

He left the room on wobbly legs. Outside, a worried Rivalz was shuffling from foot to foot. Lelouch assured him that everything was fine, just a little misunderstanding, and handed him the money.

"Hey, here's your share!"

"Take it, you need it more," Lelouch said. They bickered for a while, until Rivalz tried to change the subject:

"What's that black case you're holding?"

"My share," Lelouch smirked, opening the case, which contained the wooden chess set he'd borrowed from the bandit as compensation for moral damage. "So take all the money."

"Okay, well, I want a drink," Rivalz sighed, sitting down at the far bar and ordering himself a cocktail. The green-skinned Twi'lek poured him a drink. Lelouch remained standing, showing that he wanted to get out of here as soon as possible. While Rivalz drank his cocktail, he walked around the room and sat down on a couch near the bar.

"Both times I've managed to subdue sentients by accident, in a stressful situation, while my attempts to repeat it under more or less controlled conditions have failed," he thought.

After some reflection, he concluded that the difference in these situations was his emotional state. No... not even in this, but the way the Force was behaving. When Lelouch channeled it with focus and calm, it didn't spill out in all directions, wasn't as turbulent. The Order taught that the Force should not be like a hurricane, for then it could not be used for various techniques. And it was definitely true: it was control and concentration that helped Lelouch to master telekinesis. But then there was a question: why did something so powerful as mind subjugation suddenly appear only at the moment when calmness was out of the question?

A snide face obscured his gaze, his legs were pressed against the couch, and he felt as if he'd fallen down. Lelouch made an indistinct sound of surprise.

"Don't you wanna have fun?..." said in a low, languorous voice, a lush Twi'lek with light pink skin.

She rested her breasts against him and flicked back his bangs with her fingers. Lelouch turned away, glancing toward Rivalz with a mute plea for help. Rivalz glanced back, sipped his cocktail, and hummed.

'Screw you.'

"You look so lonely...?" Twi'lek said with a huff.

"Go away," he said, trying to keep his tone even.

"What are you so shy about...?"

"Stop harassing me!"

Lelouch tried to get out from under her, but she was heavier than himself. His legs began to tingle from the weight on his lap. He grabbed her arms in an attempt to shove her off him, but she giggled playfully and clung to his lips like a pincer, causing them to clash unpleasantly. Her head rattled from the impact.

Rivals laughed gleefully.

'Now what's she doing?'" Lelouch grew furious. The Force boiled in his hands and he shoved her away. The Twi'lek flopped to the floor.

Lelouch jumped up and shouted indignantly:

"You crazy woman! I told you to get off me!"

The Twi'lek gawked in confusion. Lelouch stepped over her, walked over to a surprised Rivalz and said:

"I'm getting sick of this place. Let's get out of here."

"Huh, she's pretty…"

"I'm not interested in slave labor."

The anger at the Twi'lek did not subside, but turned to the Black King. She had no choice but to do her job, to get as much money out of her clients as she could. The King just didn't deserve to live.

Suddenly, a wave of panic and pain rippled through the Force. Instantly, Lelouch jumped up on the bar, dragged Rivalz over to it, and then ducked behind it. The Twi'lek bartender looked at them in surprise, but immediately ducked down as several blaster shots rang out.

"What's goin' on?!" asked Rivalz with panic in his voice. The music stopped, replaced by screams and gunshots.

"I... don't know," Lelouch whispered in confusion. A nearby Twi'lek squealed as several shots hit the drink bottles on the shelves on the wall. One red-hot shard seemed to hit her shoulder.

Outside, panic broke out. There was foot stomping, screaming, gunshots.

"What the hell is this shit, again, uh..." Rivalz wailed, clutching his head. Indeed, it had only been a week, and they were in the middle of some kind of fight again.

Lelouch huddled against the bar and tried to think of what to do next. He was of no use as a forceuser right now. Not only had he just used up all of his reserve, but his skills were generally at the level of a youngling. Of course, not practicing the Force for a full eight years would be bad for anyone's abilities. The sword, of course, was left at home.

Suddenly it rumbled very close. Someone was violently knocking over bar stools, heavy footsteps drumming on the bar, and then the corpse of a guard with a burned face crashed down from above.

"For Mandalore!" someone yelled from nearby.

Twi'lek and Rivalz were shaking with horror. They seemed about to vomit at the sight of the melted face with its eye sockets leaking out. The Force groaned in pain, the echo of death. Lelouch, however, was pierced by a terrible thought as he heard the scream of the guard's killer. He stood up, deciding to cautiously peek out from behind the bar.

"Where the hell are you going?!" Rivalz exclaimed. But Lelouch didn't answer. A real battlefield opened up to him. The second floor was occupied by guards in gray cloaks, pouring blaster fire at the sentients hiding at the entrance to the arena and behind another bar. Those were firing back furiously. Behind the overturned tables, the clubgoers in the Babel Tower huddled in fear. As if such weak defenses could save them from blaster shots. Just in front of Lelouch's hiding place lay the corpse of a man who had obviously killed one of the guards. Lelouch quickly ducked back as soon as the Force alerted him to the threat. A gunshot whistled overhead and baked a black stain on the wall.

'It's... it's my fault!' Lelouch grabbed himself by the shoulders in despair. 'This isn't how it should be at all! That's not what I meant!'

He realized what had happened: that bandit had freed the slaves, in the simplest and most straightforward way possible. But it was completely different from what Lelouch had envisioned when he gave the order. He thought the bandit would wait for the right moment, disengage the collars, open some back door, and let them out. But it turned into a gunfight!

'I should have worded my orders more clearly, I should have foreseen this, after all!' Lelouch thought bitterly. But at that moment, he was too intoxicated by his own power. He wanted what was best for everyone, but it turned out to be...

Meanwhile, the club was getting engulfed in heat and smoke. The blaster firefight, of course, caused the fire. More screams and stomping feet rang out in the chaos. The freed slaves rushed out, deciding that sitting in the smoke-filled room for long was not an option.

"Oya! For Mandalore!" someone shouted again. The call was followed by deafening shouts in languages not just galactic but other languages as well. The Wookiee's roar was the loudest among them. Everyone remembered what they were willing to die for.

"Oya!"

Blaster bolts were now flashing nearby, screams mingling with moans of pain. The force hurled like a hurricane, but it was no longer as blinding to Lelouch as it had been in the Grass Ghetto. Either he was used to seeing through watery eyes in the powerful wind, or the storm wasn't as strong. Despite his fear, Lelouch still risked a quick peek out from behind cover. The unknown was more frightening.

The former slaves had knocked some of the guards off the second floor, leaving a trail of corpses, both their own and those of others. They had absolutely nothing to lose. Nevertheless, the guards still held their positions, both above and below. The battlefield was a jumbled mess, with gunfire pouring in from all sides. Red and blue flashes were flying in the darkness.

"Attack!" shouted a familiar voice. The unknown woman in the Mandalorian mask jumped up and with a single shot broke the fixture of the giant crystal chandelier. The chandelier fell with a deafening crash right on the group of guards who had taken cover behind the stripper podium. With joyous shouts, the crowd went back to attacking the guards.

Lelouch watched this almost mesmerized. Of course, he was rooting for the escaped slaves. However, things couldn't end so well.

A reinforcement of guards rushed into the hall. The fighters in black armor followed one after another. The slaves immediately focused their fire on them. However, the guards clearly had portable personal shield generators. For the first few seconds, they seemed completely invulnerable, surrounded by a light blue haze. Then, at the end of the short duration of the personal shields, they put forward force shields. The seemingly thin durasteel slats unfolded from a central ball with a handle in the hand of each front-row soldier, and an orangeish field lit up between them. Such shields would last longer, but not by much unless the reinforcements had external batteries with them.

The firefight became even more fierce. The slaves were now being squeezed from two sides: the undefeated remnants of the guards on top and the reinforcements from below. In a desperate rush, the slaves, led by the Mandalorian, threw themselves at the new fighters. But what could they do against the Black King's fighters, who appeared to be professional mercenaries? It was hard to see in the smoke, but the Force reported the fading lights of life.

Finally the gunshots fell silent. All that was left was the hum of a fire going off somewhere across the room.

"Is this it?" Rivalz muttered.

Turns out it wasn't. For some reason the black-clad men had pointed their weapons at the remnants of the guards on the second floor. From behind them, the Black King leaned out and shouted:

"You sneaky hag! How dare you!"

The woman with white hair appeared on the second floor. Lelouch looked at her more closely now. The woman was not young, but the way she stood, holding her blaster, suggested that she had had a restless youth.

"Yours were the first to shoot," she replied coldly. Lelouch frowned puzzled.

"I knew you wanted to get rid of me, you bitch! Your people made this mess by releasing the slaves!" squealed the King.

"It was a misunderstanding. My people were harmed by the slaves too,'' the woman still replied the same way. But the Black King didn't want to listen to anything.

"Get them!"

But before his men could fire, an object flew from the second floor. The guards, who appeared to be serving that woman, ducked into one of the passageways on the second floor with her.

"Drop down!"

Lelouch quickly hid behind the bar. There was a deafening whistle, and white flashes illuminated the space. Left ear was staffed by a ringing noise. The sounds of gunshots and screams cut through it.

'Was that Virma Norin?' thought Lelouch, shaking his head. It seemed that the slave rebellion had provoked a conflict between her and the King.

The sounds of gunfire hadn't died down, but were now heard somehow muffled. Lelouch looked outside. The club was a pitiful sight. It was completely destroyed. Apart from the mountain of corpses and the surviving customers who were hiding under tables and in adjacent rooms, the hall was empty. It looked like the King's men had chased after Norin, who had hidden in the bowels of the Babel Tower.

Lelouch coughed. The acrid smoke stung his eyes.

"We have to get out of here," he said. He wasn't the only one who thought so; the rest of the survivors had decided to take their chances of getting out, too, and were scrambling toward the exit.

Rivalz and Lelouch got out from behind the bar and started making their way toward the entrance. The fire was raging, and the acrid smoke was hurting their throats and eyes. Lelouch ducked down and squatted down, pulling Rivalz with him. Breathing was immediately easier. It didn't seem very far to the exit, but it was lost somewhere in the smoke. However, there were bodies down here. Rivalz cried out when he caught his hand in a pool of blood. He finally vomited.

They crawled, trying to circle the bodies on the floor. The debris of the music stage they were crawling past was sharply embedded in their palms and knees. One of the beat musicians was trying to drag the body of a second nearby. Lelouch turned away from them and froze.

On the wreckage of the stage and musical instruments lay the body of that unknown Mandalorian woman in the black and red mask who had so desperately clawed her way to freedom. Her chest was scorched with plasma, the blood on the floor seemed black. The mask stared back with dead eyes. Lelouch felt something strange, some incomprehensible emotion. A sense of bitterness mixed with the hot fire of a sense of injustice, with a grim determination.

Suzaku was right, in that system was better than anarchy. Except that the Republic's system was a shambles. The laws were not written for the likes of the Black King. Those who stood up for freedom were crushed. No one dared to lead others in the fight, except those like this unknown.

Even Lelouch himself, like a coward, hid in hiding. He had been responsible for starting this massacre because of his ill-conceived order. He was crushed by a press of deep regret and remorse.

"I don't know your name... but I take up your cause. And I will not stop until justice is served, until..." Lelouch whispered softly, his hands touching the mask. There was something symbolic about it. His fingers and then his palms touched the smooth, warm metal. The mask... no, the helmet was not heavy, it was even light, designed to be worn for long periods of time. Mandalorians were famous for never taking off their bu'ce's.

Rivalz called out to Lelouch from somewhere in front. They had to hurry. Soon the smoke lessened, and Rivalz and Lelouch rose, stepping through the open doors. The sun cut painfully into eyes that were weary of light. The fresh air finally allowed them to breathe.

The King's men stood on the landing pad, looking suspiciously at the visitors rushing to their aircars. A woman in a tattered red dress shouted indignantly at one of them. The man did not stand on ceremony, however, and raised his blaster. The woman instantly came to her senses. Lelouch lowered his head, clutching the sleeves of his red jacket, which dangled above the floor like a bag. A familiar green-skinned twee'lek bartender glimmered in the crowd of people. She quickly pulled up the hood of her cloak, clearly off someone else's shoulder, and disappeared into the flow of people.

Rivalz and Lelouch sat silently in the aircar. A red jacket clattered to the floor as it rolled off the back seat. The chess case was also there. The car rumbled, rising into the air.

" ...Until this world is destroyed and created anew once and for all. So swears…" the quiet words were drowned in the oncoming flow of wind.

The cloudless sky was reflected in the dark visor of the mask.