CHAPTER ONE: JEONG JEONG

The day was young, and dew clung to the grass that Commander Jeong Jeong tread upon. The sun was rising beautifully, he saw: its orange-red seemed to bleed into the clouds and sky around it, like a spectacular wound in the horizon. The dew was all ready starting to become fog, and it hung around his ankles, kicked up with every step he took. He was used to the cold mornings of the Earth Kingdom, used to breathing in that fresh, heady mist every morning. It was, in its own way, soothing. However, six long years of campaigning across the Earth Kingdom still didn't wipe away his memories of that comforting warmth that enveloped his homeland, the Fire Nation-to the whole nation, it seemed as though the sun embraced it as its favored son.

As he neared the camp of the host's commanding officer, he saw the two sentries posted at the entrance snap to a salute. They both bowed, their hands offered forward torches to their superior. "Good morning, Commander Jeong Jeong," they chorused. Jeong Jeong let a small grin creep onto his weathered face. These men weren't going through the motions, just greeting him because of his rank. They seemed genuinely happy to see him, and he always held appreciation for that.

"At ease, hotmen," he said. The one on the right was a young man, obviously fresh out of the academy. Jeong Jeong didn't know his name. The one on the left, however, had been in one of Jeong Jeong's own units before being promoted into the General's personal guard. "Matsu," he said. "You're looking well." Matsu merely nodded, trying to keep his composure: typical soldier's reaction. Jeong Jeong knew him well enough, though.

"Thank you, sir."

"But from what I hear, you've gotten soft in this unit," he continued. "Word reached me you lost big in Pai Sho last night. Have you forgotten how to play among the best?" Jeong Jeong added, somewhat teasingly. Something, anything to get these men to relax. It was enough that there was a war going on, and these men were tired. He was inwardly grateful when Matsu decided to loosen up, even just a little bit.

"I haven't forgotten how to play, sir," he said. "The General is just the best there is. He always says Pai Sho is more than just a game." That brought a full smile to Jeong Jeong's face. He always did say that.

"As you were, men," Jeong Jeong said, and walked past them. He headed up the avenue between lines of tents to the biggest tent of them all. Despite its size, it was not overly elaborate or decorated, like some officers' tents; in a move to foster unity among the troops, their commander had insisted on living like the troops as much as possible. It was a move that Jeong Jeong admired; here was an officer who understood his men. He heard of so many brash officers, quick to abuse their station, but he was pleased to see that his own leader was not among their number. Considering his pedigree, this was even more reassuring about the state of the Fire military.

Jeong Jeong peeled back the tent flap, and there, sitting over his war board at even this hour of the morning, was General Iroh. He sat with a certain regality befitting of the first son of Fire Lord Azulon, his brow furrowed in thought, his fingers idly toying with the strands of his beard. He looked up at the intrusion, and his expression relaxed. "Good morning, Commander Jeong Jeong," he said pleasantly. Jeong Jeong bowed, grinned.

"I hope I find you well, General Iroh."

"As always, my strong right hand." Iroh always had liked that nickname. Jeong Jeong supposed he had earned it; he had been through so many campaigns with Iroh, and now as they were nearly two years into their siege, he had no intention of leaving. Of all the officers Jeong Jeong had served under, Iroh was far and away his favorite. He knew his men, knew how to use them well, knew how to keep them happy. Most officers knew how to fight wars. Iroh knew how to win them.

He offered up a porcelain cup, its contents steaming. "Tea?" he offered. With a gracious nod, Jeong Jeong took the cup and slowly sipped its contents. He felt that warm soothing feeling trickle down the back of his throat, and his senses stirred. Iroh did know how to make the best tea.

"Thank you," Jeong Jeong said, placing the cup down after a moment.

"Not at all," came Iroh's easy reply. "What can I do for you?"

"Last night one of my contacts within Ba Sing Se sent me some inside information that I thought you would find useful," Jeong Jeong began. "General Weng is dead. The cause of death is unknown as of yet. Official word is that he died peacefully in his sleep, but my source suspects foul play." Weng had been one of those legendary generals on the Council of Five. He had been a keen mind and a vicious fighter. Iroh nodded slowly.

"He was a good soldier," he said in his measured, majestic voice. "I am certain the Earth King regrets his loss greatly. Who have they promoted in his stead?"

"According to my sources, How has been named his successor," Jeong Jeong answered. "He will be a worthy successor, in all likelihood. Certainly, he will do a great deal better than Sung." Sung, that cowardly fool. He had practically inherited the position from his infinitely better-qualified brother, Cao. There was an officer. Jeong Jeong knew it; he had had the honor of facing him in single combat. Iroh nodded again in agreement.

"How will have to be treated with respect. I look forward to facing him on the walls."

"If we don't burn them to the ground first," Jeong Jeong said wryly. Iroh let out a strange, gasping laugh.

"That is funny," he chortled. "May I use it?"

"Please. Perhaps one day it will be on the lips of our Fire Lord."

"Perhaps," Iroh said, and though he tried to hide it, Jeong Jeong noticed how the General's brow furrowed at the mention of his own father's name. Clearly things were not as well in the Royal household as all of the glossy portraits and flowery stories claimed. With a gesture Iroh directed Jeong Jeong's attention to the war board-an in-depth diagram of the outer wall of Ba Sing Se, with troop movements dotting its surface. "Today, I want you to take four divisions and press hard on the easternmost segment of the wall. If How directly succeeds Weng, then this will now be under his jurisdiction." He looked up, smiling as always. "I have great respect for General How's war record, but I do not think that we should make his first day any easier." It was Jeong Jeong's turn to laugh: his shoulders shook slightly and he tilted his head back slightly by habit.

"I will see it done, General Iroh," Jeong Jeong said, rising. "We will commence the attack in two hours' time."

"Very good. Send the men my regards." With that, he was dismissed. Bowing one last time, Jeong Jeong turned and strode out of the General's tent. As he reached the edge of camp, he mounted the steed waiting for him: a massive, reptilian thing, borrowed from one of the cavalry units to speed his travel. He preferred to walk, but time was of the essence. Digging his heels hard into its scaled sides, it lurched forward, and he with it. As he started back towards his camp, he was all ready formulating his plans for the day.

General How, congratulations on your promotion, he thought. Let us see how well you hold up in the fires of battle.