If, at any point during this fanfic, you happen to find similarities to such science-fiction masterpieces as Firefly, Retribution Falls, Star Wars, Mass Effect, Deus Ex: Human Revolution, and Dracula 3000 (and others yet unmentioned)...I'm not apologizing x)

Just to clarify a few things before you read:

1) This is an AU. There is no bending unless I decree otherwise later on, but that's not likely. We'll just have to settle with sci-fi technology and other fun things for now. Also, the politics and character positions aren't all the same, so the Equalists are more like a Separatist/possible Communist movement and Amon was never their leader, but they are still enemies of the Republic.

2) Amon's scars are real in here and he doesn't wear a mask. He is also a cyborg. Mwahaha.

3) Hasook was the Fire Ferrets' water-bender before Korra in the TV series. I mention this only because he's one of the more obscure characters who takes on a more important role in this story.

4) This is a mild crossover with the original Avatar series in that certain minor characters will be appearing here naturally at more or less their original ages and without the use of time-travel, such as Jin (from "Tales of Ba Sing Se"), who is a member of the crew. Because this is only a mild crossover and is predominantly Korra-based, I didn't think it fitting to upload it in the "Crossovers" section. [Update]: This is now officially a crossover :D

Present crew of the Blue Spirit:

Amon—the captain

Hasook—a combatant and unofficial first mate

Korra—a combatant and unofficial second mate

Asami—pilot and navigator

Bolin—engineer and tech expert

Jin—gunner and cook

Pabu—Bolin's pet fire ferret

Flight of the Blue Spirit

Phase 01: Trust

[Scene 01]

From where they stood, Korra and Hasook had the perfect view of Republic City, a sprawling megalopolis that seemed to expand infinitely into the sunset horizon. There, pressing themselves anxiously against the reinforced glass of the rising elevator, the two young smugglers stood enthralled at the never-ending spectacle. Amon reposed behind them, cybernetic arms crossed as the scarred man smiled at their childlike wonder.

Korra started, "I've heard Republic City was big, but this…"

"This place makes Omashu look like a snow-globe," Hasook finished.

"Clearly, I need to give you kids more shore-leave," Amon said.

"That would be nice, thank you," Korra replied, still entranced by the cityscape.

"All the time we spend running gigs on the butt-crack edges of the system, I think we could use some vacation," Hasook remarked.

Amon said, "Lucky for us, this job Tarrlok offered should have us set for a long while. We move his cargo, and I'll show you how the other half lives."

"Thought you didn't like big missions like this, boss," Korra said. "Something about us always getting busted by the feds and hiding our sorry keisters out in the igloos for three weeks?"

Hasook added, "And since when do we take jobs from the Republic, let alone a councilman? These people weren't exactly our allies back in the war."

The burned man replied, "Tarrlok is the exception. There's a history between us. One we honored even on the battlefield. I'd trust the man with my life, just as he trusted his to me."

His subordinate's eyes were glued to him now, just as they were on the cityscape a moment ago. "Wow, boss," Korra said, "Never knew you had connections like this before. Why only tell us now?"

The answer was curt. "You didn't ask."

Korra scrunched her face in pouting, then glanced sidelong back to the city as she rested against the reinforced glass. Hasook smirked at the girl he'd come to know as his sister-in-crime behaving like the child he knew she was. Not that he was much better, of course.

Amon spoke again. "Tarrlok did his research. He's looked at every possible angle and assured me it's a simple delivery job as far as we're concerned. Move some crates and get paid. I'll convince him to let me see these sources for myself. But you two needn't worry." He smiled wryly at them. "I'll protect you from the big, scary boxes."

"Your valor is an inspiration to us all, boss," Hasook mocked.

The elevator reached its mark and the doors slid open. The three were greeted by the council page, Tarrlok's elderly assistant, as they stepped into the small lobby. The page was momentarily startled by Amon's face (or lack thereof), but recomposed himself moments later. "Ah, y—you must be Councilman Tarrlok's 7:00, yes? Captain Amon, was it?"

Before the captain could answer, Tarrlok swung open the door to his office with a mechanical right forearm, visibly jubilant as he approached the crew. "Noatak! It's been ages! Good to see you again!"

"And you as well, Tarrlok." With that, the two embraced in a hug, their cybernetic limbs not seeming to damage their spines. Neither the page nor the crew had expected this sort of welcome.

"Noatak?" Korra whispered to Hasook, confused at the unfamiliar name.

"Hugging?" Hasook whispered back, confused at...the hugging.

They pulled apart. "You look well, old friend," Amon said. "Council life treating you well?"

"Never better. And I trust your exploits on the rim have been bountiful?"

"Not enough to keep us from passing this up."

Tarrlok turned to the two young smugglers standing only a few feet away. He held that smile of familiarity. "I take it this is your crew?"

"Korra and Hasook," Amon answered. "They've been with me since the war."

That piqued Tarrlok's interest. The Equalist Revolution was only seven years ago, so he could only marvel at their implied history. "But, they're so young…are these the same rascals who held the line at Full Moon Bay?"

"In the flesh," Amon proudly answered.

The young smugglers were visibly amazed to see someone comment on their past, just as the councilman was to finally meet the former child soldiers. Tarrlok chuckled and shook their hands. "That was a very embarrassing defeat for the Republic. Thank you for looking out for my brother all these years."

And that raised several more questions among the two young adults, as evident in their comically astonished faces.

"…B—brother?" Korra choked.

"I need some beer," Hasook matched.

Tarrlok continued. "The three of you come on in to my office so we can discuss this arrangement of ours."

[Scene 02]

Night fell over Republic City. The smugglers remembered the meeting like a surreal dream. The councilman's office was dark, hazy, and the lull of the running waterfall behind his seat was hypnotic. His every word was mist to their senses.

"My men will load the cargo onto your ship. You're to deliver it to an outpost on the fourth moon of Patola as discreetly as possible. Word of the shipment's contents is not to be disclosed to anyone. Not to yourselves, not the crew, not even the Republic checkpoints you may face along the way. Only I and my clients have access to that knowledge. All you need to know is that failure could jeopardize the state of galactic security both for my Republic and for your Equalists. We could be looking at another war if things go wrong."

This raised some alarms. Hasook questioned the logic in sending them of all people to handle such precious cargo. While Amon settled his inferior down, he shared the young man's concern.

Tarrlok replied, "This is a diplomatic move I'm making in trusting Equalists to fulfill this task. Should you succeed, it would be a profound testament to our governments that the time for hostility between us is long over. But, the thing is, you are the only Equalists I would trust this mission to, despite your inexperience with larger game like this. I also admire your policy of not asking questions. And, like I told Noatak earlier, you will be adequately compensated for your efforts. Fifty million yuan credits. Ten million now, the other forty when the job is done."

That seemed enough to keep Korra and Hasook pacified—enough for retirement, even—but Amon pressed further. "You say this could ease old wounds between our people, but how would that be if no one ever knows what we delivered?"

"I'll spare you the details, but the ones you're delivering to are very influential people. After the job is done, they'll inform the higher-ups, strings will be pulled, and our governments will suddenly be inclined to show some gratitude to each other. Once the politicians make amends, the people will follow. It'll take some time, but this will be the first step in a long walk of recovery."

Night fell over Republic City. The dark was vibrantly lit by the commercial flares of the megalopolis' nightlife, an industrial wonder many of the Blue Spirit's crew had yet to adjust to. Korra felt a creeping headache. Hasook seemed uncharacteristically fidgety, possibly the paranoia of culture shock. Amon kept to himself inside the ship, suddenly wanting to leave the planet as soon as possible. As for Jin…the landing platform they parked on was high enough that most air-traffic flew below them and the ground level was nigh invisible amidst the chasms betwixt neon-lit skyscrapers and elevated streets. She wasn't especially fond of heights, so Bolin escorted her to a pub to drink the fears away. That left Asami, the natural-born city-girl, as the only one eligible to oversee the loading cargo—not just Tarrlok's, but that of other clients they'd scouted as well—and boarding passengers who needed the transport. Korra kept her company and Hasook stood not far away, reading a news tablet.

"So, the Republic councilman is the captain's brother?" Asami asked.

"Not just that, I think he even fought against us in the war," Korra replied.

"But Amon thinks we can trust him?"

"Looks like it."

"Do you, though?"

She wasn't sure how to respond. "He seemed nice enough and he even offered enough for us all to retire, but you know how I am around loyalists."

"It's been seven years, Korra. The war's over. A lot of people still hold those old grudges, but some are trying to make amends. If Tarrlok's the genuine article, we'd be insane to pass this up."

"So, you trust him?"

"I want to trust him. But like you said, loyalists are hard to trust, especially when they offer bait as tempting as this."

"You also think his offer is fishy?"

"We haven't exactly had the best of luck with high-stakes deliveries, even those offered by other Equalists. Spirits know we can't even pull off a simple pirating gig and don't have the qualifications for a big-shot to offer us a job like this, so yeah, I'm a little skeptical."

"You've really covered all the bases on this, huh?"

Asami smirked and shrugged. "It helps to be pragmatic."

Korra sighed. "But Cap'n's convinced his brother's good on his word. Can't blame him, though, considering they were best buddies even in the war. Just hope his faith doesn't screw us all over."

They were interrupted by the discordant singing of their valued shipmates turned drunken idiots, Jin and Bolin, returning from their evening out and using each other for balance. Their voices did horrors for Korra's headache.

"SECRET TUNNEEEEEL! SECRET TUNNEEEEL! THROUGH THE MOUNTAINS! SECRET, SECRET, SECRET, SECRET TUNNEEEEEEEEEEEL! Yeah!"

Bolin added, "Whoo! That was a good pub! Korra, Asami, you two have got to come with us next time! Hasook is invited, but only if he promises not to use Pabu as payment for our drinks like he did last time."

At this, Pabu slumped half out of Bolin's jacket, clearly drunk as well and reliving the nightmares of Hasook's treachery, whom the fire ferret since nicknamed "the accursed one" and punished by sleeping on his face whenever circumstances allowed.

Hasook called, never looking away from the news tablet in his hands, "Screw you and your pet human, Pabu!"

"I think he's coming around," Jin smirked. "Just keep sleeping on his face, Pabu, and you'll win him over in no time."

Hasook shouted back, this time irate and glaring directly at her, "Do not encourage him, you crazy devil-woman!"

Korra and Asami ran up to the three drunkards—the humans and the fire ferret—to escort them back into the ship once they realized the dangers of allowing the inebriated to walk freely on a landing platform as high up as theirs. Asami gave Jin a piggyback ride before charging Hasook to take over inventory-duty (to which he begrudgingly complied) and Korra hoisted Bolin and Pabu over her shoulder. To the drunks' credit, Jin didn't seem scared of heights anymore. She even made an offhand comment about the space beneath them looking like a sea of infinite jelly and of her desire to bounce in it.

"Thought we didn't take human cargo?" Hasook joked about their intoxicated crew.

"You're human cargo!" Korra joked back.

Hasook sneered and returned to his reading. The smile faded at the newest headline:

INVESTIGATION ON THE DISAPPEARANCE OF COUNCILMAN'S DAUGHTER REMAINS FRUITLESS.

POLICE COMMISIONER BEIFONG SAYS TRAIL GROWS EVER COLDER.

On the front page was an image of Lin Beifong addressing the reporters from her podium in the police station. Beside the larger photo was a smiling portrait of Jinora, Councilman Tenzin's missing eldest daughter. At only eleven years old, she was the shining prodigy of what all Republic parents wanted their children to be: intelligent, photogenic, well-mannered…

"Damn shame," Hasook muttered.

The article quickly consumed his attention, making him forget about the outside world. He read the details of the girl's kidnapping, of the ransom note left behind, and of every lead the police had always leading into a dead-end. The Republic could hang for all he cared, but a child—anyone's child—

"Are you the captain?"

Hasook jumped at the unfamiliar voice. He looked up from the tablet and saw a young man garbed in a dark brown greatcoat. His hair was short and black, his skin fair, and his amber eyes were hidden behind black sunglasses. A crimson scarf adorned his neck, the tassels of which drooped over his torso, and he carried a duffel bag by his side.

Recomposing himself, Hasook answered. "Ah, no. No. The Cap'n's inside, getting ready for takeoff. You one of our passengers?"

The young man reached into his pocket and handed the smuggler a stack of paper yuans.

"Am now."

Hasook quickly flipped through the banknotes with his thumb, counting them as though they were a deck of cards to be cut. He glanced back up and smiled at the newcomer. "Welcome aboard the Blue Spirit, Mr…"

"Lee," the passenger replied.

Lee. A common pseudonym in these parts, Hasook knew. No doubt the man had something he was hiding from and was using the Blue Spirit as his means of escape. The name was fake, but the money was good and that's all this crew needed.

"You're just in time, Mr. Lee. Name's Hasook. I'll introduce you to the cap'n. He'll show you around. Fair warning: he's kinda ugly."

They boarded the ship as the last of the cargo was loaded.

"Where're you headed?" the smuggler asked.

"Far out as this ship'll take me."

"We're going pretty far. Patola IV good for you?"

"It'll do."

Something about "Lee's" brooding monotone rubbed Hasook the wrong way. Maybe it was his dislike of strangers or of meeting someone who thought he was cooler than him, but he felt as though this new passenger shouldn't be so easily trusted.

"Nice scarf," the smuggler commented casually.

"Thanks."