The Rebel Faction

It had been a hectic few days. The papers had been filled for days with nothing but stories and editorials about rising racial tensions between the Quarren and the Mon Calamari. No one had been killed yet, although it appeard to only be a matter of time - a narrow miss here, an explosive fizzling there, these things alone kept tensions from breaking.

Ashrad and Zek soon learnt there was no hiding from it. As the targets of one of the incidents, they found themselves battered by interviews and drowned in questions and testimonials. Zek was uncomfortable with it, but Ashrad practically hungered for mor information, a chance to speak with others targeted - on either side of the racial divide. Even as small enclaves began to form within communities where Quarren and Mon Calamari no longer worked side by side, Zek reluctantly followed Ashrad in by-night investigations on the latest attack or site of suspiscious activity.

"Dude, it's getting dangerous." murmured Zek as the two passed down an alley on this particular night. "These Quarren, they're getting really antsy. I know it hasn't gotten to street fighting yet, but they'll do it-"

"Don't say that, and try to keep up." rasped Ashrad in reply, and they jumped a trash can to reach the far end of the alley "Something's wrong with these attacks - no suspects, no arrests, and it just seems like nothing sparked it. It's not just the Quarren who are doing it, anyways." And with that, they arrived at a store-front whose door was beaten down and the windows broken. "There are Mon Calamari making things worse, too."

The two Mon Calamari youth inched towards the store where, just earlier in the day, masked Mon Calamari assailants had racked the building with some scattered pistol fire and a few heavy rocks before running away. In the darkness, the police tape was hardly a barrier as they moved to examine the remains.

"Why are we even here?" murmured Zek, who was becoming increasingly anxious "If there was anything suspiscious the police would have figured it out by now."

Ashrad didn't reply, he just kept looking at the wreckage before him. The attack didn't even make sense - why would someone attack this shop, out of all the shops in this Quarren section of the city? There just wasn't any logic to the attack, much like there hadn't been any logic to the attack on their house.

"...I don't think this is a flare up of racial tensions..." said Ashrad, slowly "I mean, the attacks - ever since the first one - have been random, pointless, the only thing they've achieved at all is make people antsy about the other race on the planet. I think that's the point. It's not reprisals... or vengeance, or anything. I think someone... someone's trying to drive the Quarren and the Mon Calamari apart."

Zek looked a little suprised "So you think this is all part of someone's plan? But who? Who'd want to split the Mon Calamari and the Quarren?"

To this, Ashrad just shrugged "Who knows? Lots of people probably would - the Empire, the Black Dragons, all sorts of racists and nationalists. But it has to be someone. This isn't natural, people don't just suddenly pick a fight with each other for no reason at all."

Zek snorted, but Ashrad continued "No, really. People might start fighting or hating each other for the stupidest reasons, but for no reason at all? Literally nothing? That's just stupid."

Zek seemed prepared to retort, but he recieved no chance - a sharp voice cut through the night "Hey, you punk kids, get away from there!"

It wasn't exactly a big mob, but it was enough. A couple dozen Quarren, most with flashlights and a few with various crude clubs had arrived on the scene, and what appeared to be their leader was speaking in animated terms to them. "So, you came round to wreck the place in the morning, and return at night to admire your handi-work? Just like you Mon Calamari - can't stand to see your 'art' go unappreciated, can you?"

"Hey now" said Zek "It's nothing like that, ok? We're just passing through, meaning no harm. We'll just be on our way, allright?"

"Not so fast!" exclaimed the lead Quarren, and his fellows began to fan out "Someone did this, and you fit the description - Mon Calamari punks. We're taking you in, and you better be polite about it 'cause we've had enough to deal with today."

"This attack wasn't comitted by a Mon Calamari." said Ashrad, in unnervingly clipped tones "It was more likely a-"

But he was interrupted, as a Mon Calamari voice rang out "You there! Get away from those kids!" in what was the worst kind of escalation, a mob of Mon Calamari had hustled over from their 'side' of the neighborhood and seemed to square off in formation to the Quarren. "Squid-heads have been causing trouble all week, and now you're going to tar some kids to top it off? Not on our watch!"

"Oh yeah?" said the Quarren, threateningly "The way I heard it, fish-men have been running around town shooting up the place, and I doubt you fine gentlemen gathered for a game of polo. Those clubs and knives are a dead giveaway of that."

"We need to be on patrol to watch out for the likes of you!" exclaimed another Mon Calamari. "To keep you guys with your clubs and knives in line. Everyone knows the Quarren can't be trusted around women."

"What, your women? How can you even bear to look at them, they look like something you might fish out of the sea for dinner!"

Zek and Ashrad were painfully aware of how bad the situation was getting, and how little control they had over it. Their few requests for everyone to calm down were drowned out, and they found themselves caught literally in the middle.

Just before everything became ugly, however, a white bolt seemed to strike between Zek and Ashrad, causing both to leap away from the impact. An imposing figure in fully-covering white armour had leapt from the top of the store, and now stood none-chalently between the mobs, who looked agog at the new arrival.

"I take it there has been a disturbance of the peace here. I request that no one says anything for the time being, simply nod if this is the case."

Both groups, feeling a little uneasy as they recognized the various weapons on the person of their questioner, nodded.

"Ah. I would further deduce, that each group currently arrayed here has taken issue with the group across from them - as in, each group would currently feel much better were the other to leave?"

Once again, without having to be told, each mob nodded.

"Then the situation is a simple one to resolve - If you both don't want to be around each other, simply go home. That will at least solve your problem for now."

"Now hold on just a moment here, you-" began a Mon Calamari, but the figue shot him a sudden look, and he backed down.

"You will find if each of you are at home, then you have nothing to fear from the other - why should you, if they are at home as well?"

Begrudgingly, both groups left until it was just the figure in armour, Zek, and Ashrad. The two young Mon Calamari looked up in suprise as the armoured helmet suddenly began to open, and the creature's head became visible.

"Hey" said Ashrad "You're a Mon Calamari - one of us. What are you doing?"

"It is not safe to be seen here or indeed say much at all, although I see you are as interested in these goings-on as I am." he said. "I am Ruuvan. If you wish to learn more, I will be at the docks later tonight, by Pier 98-1."

Zek and Ashrad shared a confused look "Er... what? Wait, why should we trust you? We just met you, and you look a little... well... odd."

Ruuvan smiled, and reached into his pocket, removing a small symbol of the Coalition emblazoned on a badge of bronze and marked with a sword cutting through the centre "White Knight Sir Ruuvan at your service, my fine young gentlemen. But I dare not say any more here. If you wish to learn more, I could use assistance, and you know where to find me."

With that, he was off into the alleyways. Ashrad and Zek once again looked suprised, and watched him leave.

“Come on, let’s just drop it in this mailbox and get out of here!” complained Zek, as he followed in the wake of Ashrad and climbed the steps to City Hall. “He’ll get it by this afternoon, and who cares if it’s a few hours late?”

Ashrad just shook his head and kept going. Zek, however, kept up his arguments “Well then why don’t we give it to someone on the way in? Or drop it just outside his office? We do we have to deliver it?”

Ashrad kept up a stony silence, and Zek reluctantly gave in. “Fine, we’ll deliver it - but can’t we at least read it first?”

“Nope. The Knight didn’t say we could, so we won’t.”

Zek let out a sigh of frustration, but said nothing as the pair moved through the besieging army of news crews who had camped out, waiting for the slightest hint of story about the current racial tensions. For a moment, a few curious cameras turned their way, but finding nothing of interest, they turned their gaze back towards the main City Hall.

Passing easily through the doors and the various security checkpoints - as few cared enough to stop a couple youths - Ashrad removed the sealed letter from his pocket and knocked on the door. A few seconds later, a somewhat disheveled looking Calamari opened the door and gave a confused look to the two standing at his door.

“Yes? Can I help you?”

“We were asked to deliver this letter to you, sir.” said Ashrad, in a matter-of-fact manner. This seemed to unnerve the Mayor somewhat, who took a pair of long pliers from a thickly messed desk, and gently took the envelope from Ashrad’s hands.

“Thanks, kid...” he said, sheepishly, and squinted at the letter. Upon spotting the Knight crest emblazoned on one side, he quicky plucked the letter from the plier’s grasp and tore it open. Inside was a sheet of folded paper, which he quickly read. Ashrad found his expression difficult to gauge, but it seemed to go from desperation, to surprise, to shock in very obvious terms and very, very, quickly. “Why that son of a...” He looked back at the two standing outside his door “Is this a joke?”

Ashrad quickly shook his head “No sir, he gave it to us himself.”

“What do you mean ‘us’?” Muttered Zek, who began to inch away.

The Mayor seemed to struggle with something for a moment, then sighed, and said “What the hell. Here, he says in the letter you two should stay in the hall - but you can watch from the doorway, I guess. It’ll be all over the holonet in an hour, anyways.” And with that he left the room. The two Calamarians gave each other surprised looks, and followed him to the doorway, where the media began to stir in the presence of a possible statement.

In a strange transition that every politician learns soon into their career, the Mayor somehow managed to go from a disheveled, overworked, nervous wreck to a sophisticated leader-type in control of the situation, apparently without going through any transitional phase. He quickly took his place at a temporary podium erected just outside the doors, and cleared his throat to speak.

“Ladies and gentlemen, in recent times our city, our civilization, and indeed our two great races have gone through a sudden and worrying period of tension. We have accused one another, suspected one another, and even threatened one another. The situation has escalated and spiraled, but it appears, there was a hidden truth in all of this chaos.

“You see, many have wondered just when this trouble began - and by whom it was begun. It appears, though, that we have all been mislead. This was not simply two races having difficulties with one another, this was a fiendish plot all along.

“Wait! Don’t jump to conclusions! I know there are those on either side of the racial divide who would agree there is a fiendish plot afoot and point firmly at the other side. But no! That is just how we have all been mislead! This fiendish plot is not one of Calamarians hurting Quarren, or Quarren hurting Calamarians, it is of someone fooling us into hurting each other. I am glad to say, a respected member of the Coalition White Knights has apprehended this individual, and is bringing him in now - behold!”

With a great deal of alarm, the media scattered out of the way of Ruuvan in full armor and face-guard, leading what appeared to be an equally impressively armored figure by his bound wrists. Ruuvan brought the bound man - whose concealing armor seemed crude, and consisted of parts from as varied sources as ancient Mandalorian shock helmets to new Imperial storm trooper chest plates - and hurled him down on the steps of the City Hall.

“This is the man responsible!” Declared Ruuvan in a loud, booming voice “A lowlife rogue, whose lair contained all the evidence needed to convict him for easily half the mysterious crimes that have taken place against the people of this world. He has impersonated us and goaded us into fighting ourselves, turning us against each other! But what he has not yet done is divulge what foul hand was behind his orders. Tell us, wretch, who sent you?”

A crackling, mechanical voice emanated from the suit “You won’t find out that easily, Coalition scum!” And with that, the man in the suit tapped a button on the inside of one of his arms, and a pair of jet-pack thrusters popped out from his back. As the media once again scattered, and the mysterious armored man flew into the air, Ruuvan began to fire his pistol into the air and ran in pursuit of his quarry.

Zek dashed right back into City Hall, but Ashrad stood transfixed with a look of shock on his face as the two dueled over the very steps. The man in the armor broke free of his bindings and began firing rockets towards Ruuvan, each of which the knight skillfully deflected back at his opponent with a shining blade. Finally, the rockets exploding around him caused the armored man to let out a grunt of pain, and spit a curse “You haven’t seen the last of me! I’ll be back, damn you!” And with that, he flew away. For a few seconds, there was awed silence.

Then the media flooded in, and shortly after them, police and emergency services. Although Zek just sighed with relief, Ashrad couldn’t help but feel something was off. After removing himself from events, Ruuvan came and bowed to the two youth, and a few moments later, the mayor joined them as well.

“I thank you for your aide.” said Ruuvan. “As you can see, I could hardly be here myself to deliver the message.”

“Indeed. You did us a great favor there.” said the mayor, patting Ashrad on the back.

Hardly thinking it through, Ashrad suddenly blurted out “But it was staged!”

Ruuvan and the mayor both seemed to stiffen quite suddenly, but the mayor was quick to recover. “Quite an imagination on you. Ruuvan, would you care to have a chat with them about this? I have a lot of paperwork to finish.” And he was off.

Ruuvan nodded to them, and headed towards the now empty lobby of the City Hall. Ashrad followed, and after a few wretched moments of anxiety, Zek followed as well.

“So, what makes you think it was staged?” Said Ruuvan.

“Well, just the little things, I guess.” said Ashrad “For one thing, why did you need us to deliver that letter? Having a policeman do it would have been just as good - better, in fact, since they’re more reliable and certainly they would have been interested in helping you apprehend a dangerous criminal.”

Ruuvan nodded “Go on.”

“And also, the Mayor, he seemed really confused by your letter, like you were telling him something crazy. He didn’t seem angry at the prisoner, he seemed more surprised at you. Even the fight was suspiscious - we don’t know who he was working for, he gets away even, but everyone conveniently sees him does enough evil stuff that we assume he must be legit. I imagine when the police find his lair, it’ll be badly burned but there’ll be enough evidence left that if we fill in the holes with what we want to see - in other words, the evidence of the recent race crimes - then it’ll all seem to work out.”

Zek seemed rigid, terrified at the thought of his friend casually calling a man in full battle armor a liar. Ruuvan, however, seemed more amused, and even let out a short laugh.

“Well then.” he said to Ashrad. “I should tell you, that you are right.”

“What?!” Ashrad said, shocked.

“So it really was staged?” said Zek “Everything? The race crimes? The bad guy?”

“What? No, not that much.” said Ruuvan. “It is true, though, that villain was actually a friend of mine. We couldn’t deliver the letter because we were busy rehearsing the little fake fight you just saw. We didn’t trust it to a policeman, since they’re respectably suspicious and would be sure to read the letter - thus letting the cat out of the bag. The mayor only just learnt of our plan, but he’s the sort to side with a solution that works, even if it’s a bit questionable.”

“So you lied to us!” Said Ashrad, suddenly getting worked up “People trust you, they follow you, they believe you, and you lie to-”

“Yes, it is true, this was a lie.” said Ruuvan, quite sharply “In reality, my investigations discovered that the race crimes really were just a bunch of random flare ups of an ethnic tension that’s always bubbled just below the surface on this world. However, it was sure to get worse before it got better, and it was my responsibility to find a way to stop it before anyone got killed. Take a look around, it may have been a lie, but see what the lie has wrought.”

Ashrad and Zek did, and they were surprised. Calamari and Quarren, completely at ease with one another again, crowded together around shards of metal from the ‘missiles’, and debated freely what they though of the events. It was true, the lie had brought them together - everyone seemed equally forgiving and apologetic about what had happened, agreeing it was just what that villain had wanted, to have them fight each other. In a strange way, the momentum had been reversed.

“It may be wrong to lie, and certainly manipulative to lie on such a scale.” said Ruuvan “But the important thing is, we brought people together and made them think about what they were doing in a different light. We brought about a greater good at no one’s expense but our own. In time, the truth will be told to them, once tempers cool, for then they will be able to look back on their own paranoia and fear of one another and laugh - wonder just how they could have been so foolish. They may be mad at us, but in the end, it will be agreed upon that at the least, we have averted a possible disaster and given everyone a little peace of mind.”

Ashrad was quiet, thinking about this. Ruuvan was certainly right in that the lie now would buy them time to let anger be soothed. Still, he felt uneasy about it.

Ruuvan, sensing this uneasiness, said “Ignorance is truly bliss, but that does not make it right. We will tell them all the truth, once it is safe to do so. Even so, there are a few who must always know the truth, and be the ones who tell the lies when they are needed - it is not a task many good men relish, but it is a necessary one at times, no matter how noble our aims may be.” He leant down to Ashrad and said “I see that you are conflicted, and that is good - that is important. It is important to know both good and evil, as well as right and wrong. What we did was a lie, and thus was not good, but it was still the right thing to do in the end. These conflict, just like you are conflicted now. Do not brush aside or hide from this conflict, acknowledge it, and seek to reconcile it as best you can and as soon as you can. That is all that can be learned from this event here today.”

With that, he drew up to his full height and presented Ashrad with a card from a pouch on his belt. “You seem wiser then your years would grant you. Should you ever be lost for a career choice, the Knights are always hiring - must be off.” With that, the Knight seemed to vanish into the crowd - battle armor and all. Zek finally seemed to snap out of his rigidly frozen form.

“I don’t believe we got through that alive!” he said “Let’s get out of here before more crazy things happen.”

Ashrad wasn’t listening, he was weighing the card in his hand, thinking about what he’d seen. What he’d learned about the Coalition - about those who served it. Finally, satisfied with what he thought about, he pocketed the card and said “Sure, let’s go.”