Chapter Three:

Part Four:

Xavior

Lillian grumbled as she dressed, rather upset at being woken up so early for a meeting and exited her room with little peace at Zheele. He would get a large piece of her mind for this, no matter who she was and who he was. Ranks, being a lady, and status do not matter when you wake a woman earlier than when she wants to be.

Lillian scanned her badge on the panel, the walk to the Council Room defogging her sense and she placed on a polite smile and walked into the room. Yv’meto was shaking in her seat, Charles and Lance talking quietly to her; Zheele was pacing up and down in anxiety; Mixxo was conversing quietly with Tank; and the rest fidgeting in their place. Lillian knitted her brows in confusion at the odd assembly of people and their abnormal behavior.

“What is going on here?” Lillian asked, voicing as much authority as needed. Zheele turned on his heel to face her, an oddly pained and worried expression on his stern features. He gestured for her to take a seat before he would begin. Complying, Lillian sat and impatiently waited for him to speak.

“Last night, as you are all aware, Xavior left the Dock and entered the Surface,” Zheele began. Lillian gave a sharp intake of breath, not believing his words as he paused, just long enough for Akuma to shout an insult.

“Traitor!!” Kaji quickly snapped a hand over her mouth as Bannainha and Khaos turned on the two.

“You have no idea what your talking about,” Khaos growled, a harshness not normally seen in the flirtatious teenager.

“Watch it, techie,” Kaji snapped.

“You wanna make us?” rudely teased Bannainha. “Why don’t you come ‘n’ try to take a piece of us, fira muerd?!” Mixxo cuffed both Kaji and Bannainha as she gave both a look not to be reckoned with.

“All of you shut up before I drag your sorry asses out of here and deal with you myself! This is no time to play.” she threatened through clenched teeth, her voice the level of a dangerous calm. Mixxo had snapped. Not good.

“Xavior would never be a traitor,” Lillian whispered, inwardly wondering against her own will if he had been the one who had given away the Moka coordinates.

“Either way, we have to get him back,” Tank voiced. The others gave slow nods.

“Dead or-” Akuma shut her mouth instantly at the withering glare Mixxo sent her, and inched back against the wall.

“No!” wailed Yv’meto, breaking into more hysterical tears.

“Who volunteers for a search party?” Lillian called, her own hand shooting into the air.

Charles gave her such a harsh, angered and internally pained look that her hand froze, mid-raising motion.

“I’d rather kill you myself before exposing you to the Hell that’s broken out up there.” The worst part was that his voice was dead serious. It sent a shiver down Lillian’s spine, but only encouraged her to raise her hand higher in hopes to find her friend. Yv’metto, Bannainha and Khaos were the only other three with raised hands. Then, Malichi spoke up from his corner of the room, looking dangerous and sly as he leaned in the shadows. Lillian bit back a shiver of just terror at his theatric entrance. He had not been there a moment ago.

“I’ll go. You only need one person to search.” he said smoothly, oddly calm for the situation. Lillian narrowed her eyes, but turned to Zheele.

“Please,” she begged him with her eyes and voice. He looked heartbroken as he shook his head.

“It’s too dangerous.” he replied, though his voice was hesitant.

“I’ve been up there before, recently as well,” Malichi continued, as if he had never stopped, the words flowing off his tongue like butter.

“Someone! Please, Charles! They have to find my son!” Yv’metto sobbed, clutching at his armor as she cried into his shirt. His eyes softened and he rubbed her head with a soft murmur, until Lance had taken her back, tears soundlessly streaming down his own cheeks. Then Lillian realized she was crying a bit as well, one lonely tear trickling down her cheek, her barley noting it. She gave it a much-too ferocious swipe, and gave a withering glare, though cloaked in pain, to Charles, then Zheele, each in their own turn.

“He can go,” Zheele conclude after Lillian went into a staring contest with Charles. He seemed honestly worried about the clown. Malichi slips soundlessly out of the room, and Yv’metto went to wait in the hall. Lillian takes a deep breath, wanting to curl into herself and cry in a corner. Bannainha came over, and sat down on the floor, pulling her into his lap, he cradles her, humming a French lullaby as he allows her to cry without any others seeing, except for Charles, Khaos, and him.

A few stressful hours later, with Lillian seeking comfort in Bannainha’s arms as she waited tensely for Malichi to return, he finally did. He was gently herding a -if possible- even more hysterical Yv’metto with him. Lillian suddenly felt extremely numb, vaguely aware of Bannainha supporting her as Malichi silently held up a pack and an army badge.

“That badge...” Charles began.

“It was his fathers.” Zheele finished. “He never took it off. Never.” Lillian’s memory fogged over and everything went black.

She blinked once, twice, not aware of ever falling asleep, and found herself in her room, wondering if it was all a terrible nightmare, but his fathers badge was clutched against her chest and she had the vaguest idea of what had seemed just a bad dream, of her starting to cry in earnest and pushing away from everybody. He had been her friend. She was able to be a child around him.

She loved him.

Lillian thought back on her past experiences. She didn’t trust Malichi, in fact, she thought briefly that he had killed Xavior. She didn’t want to listen to his judgment, and she would go looking for Xavior herself. She glanced at the clock. It had just turned midnight. The ‘witching hour’ as Xavior had called, though only the lord knows why. She pulled her legs to the side of her bed, and that’s when she realized that, through the dim lighting, Bannainha was asleep on the foot of the bed, Khaos was asleep on the floor, and Charles was sleeping in the only chair.

She mentally cursed her luck, but grabbed her emergency bag from underneath her bed, stuffed Xavior’s fathers’ badge into her waist strap, slung it over her shoulder, pulled on combat boots without a sound, and jumped over Khaos’ body. She flinched as it gave a light sound, Charles stirred, and she waited in fear, but he didn’t wake up. She thanked the heavens in her thoughts as she made her way to the door and quietly crept out, without even stirring a mouse.

She cringed at the analogy as she raced down the halls, her boots hitting the metallic floors with a clang, as she slid, actually ramming herself into the door of the Dock. She breathed a sigh of relief after nothing else moved but her chest with her fast breathing, and a wince for her bruised shoulder. She scanned her card and stepped inside before the doors could slide shut and turned to the control pad.

Lillian typed in a few codes, finding out where Xavior had supposedly gotten out, and checked where Malichi had gotten out. She was suddenly very thankful for befriending Khaos. Sure enough, the coordinates were drastically far apart. He could never have crossed paths with a body, if there had been one. But how had he gotten the bag and badge...?

Unless...

Lillian shook her head, refusing to even think about, and filling herself with false hope. She opened the hatch on the roof of the Dock and climbed through, her sweaty hands often slipping on the round metal bars of the ladders, and finally climbed out of the hatch. What she saw on the surface both terrified, thrilled, and awed her.