Have another crackfic! This is what being awake at 1am and having a horribly late Pro-Bending entry to finish does to me. I just want to say that this is not supposed to be glorifying myself in any way, and nor am I taking issue with any Zutarians - just Zutara itself. (I take the Ship War very, very seriously.) So, here is a push for Maiko, and if you're a die-hard Zutarian, just laugh, and ship your ship in peace (or convert to Maiko, fine by me). Enough rambling. I don't own Avatar. Enjoy.
"Where's the rest of them?" demanded the commander. We all looked at each other a little sheepishly as our officer's frown deepened.
"I'm sorry, Commander," she said. "But the Maikovian army is spread thin. Most of our troops are assigned to making sure Zutara month doesn't have too much of an impact on the fandom. This is all we have."
"And there's no support from the Kataangers?"
"No, sorry. They're similarly deployed, and those who aren't are seeing that any captured Zutarians are treated appropriately. The viewings of the joke short "Forbidden Love" is all in their interests. There is no mention of Maiko within." The officer saluted and, at the commander's dismissal, left us to it.
"Girls!" she began. We saluted - a Fire Nation bow, a nod to the heritage of both halves of the ship we had sworn to fight for - and the commander, satisfied, began the pep talk. "You twenty are all Maiko has. Mai and Zuko are depending on you. The shippers who aren't fanfic writers are depending on you. It is our duty to ensure that, as long as Avatar is remembered, Mai will always love Zuko, and Zuko will always love Mai. Understood?"
"Understood!" we chorused.
"Good. Now, this will need good strategy. Zutara is no longer a ship, but a navy. Last week, fifty-six shippers entered the fandom. All Zutarians. This cannot go on. You must infiltrate as many ships as you can, and when you get to the control room, you must use your fruit tarts to corrupt the files holding the Zutara fanfiction. Stealth is of the essence, don't drop any "She saved him at the Boiling Rock"s. Got that?"
"Got it!" We gave the sharp reply.
"Now for the vow." The Commander removed her beret. We had been dressed for practicality, so we did not wear hats, but we all bowed our heads nonetheless. "Oh, great creators Mike and Bryan, please honour the ship that is Maiko. May they ever be happily miserable together, and may the fruit tart ever have dubious implications. For as long as orange is an awful colour, and as long as Mai is so beautiful when she hates the world, there is hope. Mai does not hate Zuko!"
We gave the set response. "Zuko does not hate Mai, too!"
"Now, girls, good luck. Move out!"
We were without fear was we clambered over the grassy slope to where the Zutara dockyard was situated. Shipping was a dangerous game, but it was yet to claim a life, and so we ran only the risk of capture until they realised we weren't going to convert. We were silent in the dark, the lack of other sound making the soft whispering of our boots seem almost deafening. We hid behind a guard tower, in the blind spot directly underneath the window. The search-light we hurriedly scrambled out of was produced by the light of Aang's Avatar Spirit when he discovers Zuko and Katara's secret love. We managed to slip past the gate and into the dockyard, hiding behind a large crate of Zutara month prompts.
We crouched, poised and ready to go, but then one of our number hurriedly pointed to a pair of patrolling guards. We could all tell their division from the lop-sided ox-horn hairstyles and the wide sleeves on their dark robes. "Mai-bashers! Stay down!"
One of them turned at her vehement whisper, eyes wide and searching, before a grenade was lobbed into our general vicinity.
"It's an "Opposites Attract"! Get down! Get down!" We all scrambled for cover, and I found myself in a small crater with my hands over my head. It was not much, but it offered some small protection from the flying debris. An "Opposites Attract" is the largest type of Zutarian bomb there is, and the damage caused is unbelievable. Having deemed us finished, the Mai-bashers moved on, but there were more troops on their way. I pulled out my sword, made from a strong blend of similarities and enjoyment of each other's presence, and immediately thrust it up against the blade of a Zutarian. Zutarian swords are made from hotness, a loose yet incredibly strong material.
We were evenly matched. We had both learned many skills - the slight bending of canon, the parenting issues, and the appropriate confession, to name but a few - and so our blades kept clashing, back and forth. I noted my opponent's footwork - she was lacking in the solidity of pose that came from having mastered spelling, punctuation, and grammar. I aimed for her feet, and as she jumped back, I managed to land a solid elbow in her chest. She fell, and I, knowing how little time I had bought myself, raced for the ships.
I grabbed the nearest one - a sub-ship intended for babyfics - and began to climb the ladder onto the deck. There was already one Maikovian scrabbling at the lock to the door below deck. With two sets of hands, we got it open and scrambled below deck. The corridors were silent, the Zutarians mostly being asleep at this hour. We went through door after door, past dozens of silent rooms, until we twisted open one lock... Only to come face-to-face with a room full of guards.
"Run!" shrieked my companion. She was young, like me, and too passionate about Maiko to fall victim to Zutarian brainwashing. As we fled, I pulled a small "They knew each other as children" from my backpack and threw it. The "pop" that followed, along with the billow of smoke, distracted our pursuers enough for us to reach the control room.
We could hear running footsteps outside as we took out our fruit tarts and pressed them onto the computer screens. The filling made a satisfying squelch and we knew that the damage was done. Thousands of Zutarian babies would never have their stories posted. However, just as we were turning to leave, twenty or thirty Zutarians ran into the room, forming a tight circle around us. The other girl and I both drew our swords in the hopes of parrying as many blades as we could, but we knew it was no use.
"You hold them off and I'll get help!" she shrieked, and I had no choice but to obey as a Zutarian blade almost slit my throat. She fished out her radio, and I immediately lunged out to stop it getting skewered. "We've done the job and we're outnumbered, get us out of here NOW, do you copy?" There was a singular beep and she was back in the thick of it again.
It wasn't too long before we heard the sound of a helicopter outside the ship. I couldn't help but be relieved: prompt rescue. I pulled another bomb from my backpack - a medium-sized "She's allowed to touch his scar" - and threw it at the ceiling. It latched on, and beeped - the Zutarians all taking cover - and exploded, blasting a hole in the roof. My friend and I hopped up onto the desk in the middle of the room and managed to get through the hole and grip the ladder as the helicopter flew off.
As I watched the ship sink without its fanfiction, I let my gaze travel to the Zutarian fleet as a whole. It was a gargantuan thing, dominating the sea with its gripping extent and power. I allowed myself a little hope: hope that one day, we shall defeat the evil of Zutara and let canon take its rightful course once more.
So, there you have it. Not to be taken seriously. I apologise. My brain does not have quality control checks at three o'clock in the morning. It is probably obvious how much I know about the military here. If not, I have no f**king idea what I'm talking about.