Zidane struggled with the Fire Nation uniform he had procured from the downed guard. His chest was too shallow and his shoulders far too narrow for the standard issue breastplate, a combination which made him comically top-heavy. In addition to his compromised balance, he had to deal with boots that were several sizes too big (and, for some reason, wet) forcing him to kick hard with every step to prevent them from coming loose. Jet, being taller and more muscular, seemed to be having much less trouble with the disguise; that hadn't stopped him from retching at the smell of his helmet. Ignoring it as best he could, he dropped the last piece of armor firmly in place and grabbed his swords.

"According to recon…the royal seats should be up a flight of stairs just inside. You good to go?" Zidane flashed him a thumbs up. "Good. The scene where Marcus sneaks into Cornelia's chamber is about to start. Let's get this over with before the finale, okay?" A nod of the head this time, which caused Zidane's helmet to rattle precariously on his shoulders. The two infiltrators sneaked in through a side door, Zidane kicking into his boots and Jet trying his best to breathe through his mouth.

They had just crossed the threshold when a hooded figure slammed into Zidane, causing both of them to take several steps back. The stranger, whose head had been turned the other way, looked at the pair with wide, frightened eyes. "Please pardon me. I was in a hurry, you see…" She dropped her gaze and moved to walk around him, but he sidestepped to remain in front of her.

"Wait. Hold on a sec! Haven't we met before?" he questioned.

"No, I do not know you…"

Zidane leaned down, trying to get a better look at her face under the cape. Once again she turned away. "Hmm…maybe you're right…I'd never let someone as pretty as you get away. Say, you wouldn't-"

"I…I must go!"

She raced for the open door behind him, but it slammed shut before she could even get close. Jet's hand remained on the door, and he glared at the newcomer with a mix of hatred and satisfaction. "Wake up Zidane!" he nearly shouted, his voice cold and clear. "This is Princess Garnet!"

Zidane's jaw dropped involuntarily. He took in the girl's exquisite golden cape and the crimson hem of a robe that dazzled with inlaid silver and gems. He examined her pale skin and the blush that was rapidly rising in her cheeks. This majesty and splendor, coupled with the way she reflexively pulled her arms tight around her body at the accusation, told him that Jet was right. But he couldn't for the life of him think of anything to say.

It was Garnet herself who broke the tense silence. "You work on the theater ship?"

"Yes," they answered together. Zidane was surprised to hear his voice coming out softly, even shyly.

"The truth is…yes, I am actually…Princess Garnet, daughter of Iroh, and a member of the royal family." Jet smirked; Zidane continued to wonder why he was unable to move. "I have a favor I wish to ask of you…I wish to be kidnapped…right away."

The smirk disappeared from Jet's face. He caught Zidane's confused look, and fought to mask his own. After taking a moment to collect himself, he responded in his usual confident manner. "Well, Princess, I think we can-"

*BOOM!*

The door to the outside was suddenly blasted off its hinges. Smoke and debris poured in from the explosion site, filling the air between Garnet and Jet with ash. As the smoke dispersed, a trio of Fire Nation soldier silhouettes gradually came into focus. The one in front stepped forward, and Zidane could see a long face framed by light brown hair and partially obscured by a silver eye patch. Her right hand rested on the handle of her sheathed sword; her left was extended, palm out, still smoldering from the blast of fire it had launched.

Garnet flung both arms around Zidane's forearm and gasped, "Please…They've come for me!"

"Aha, so that's what's going on," he replied, though more to himself than to the princess. He turned to her and, keeping his voice soft, offered, "Alright! This way!"

He grabbed her wrist and raced down a hallway, passing under the stairs from which she had just come. As they turned a corner, Zidane looked back to see the Fire Nation General, Beatrix, in hot pursuit. Farther back, and thankfully unbeknownst to her, Jet had successfully ambushed the other two guards from his unseen position against the back wall, cutting off her support. But even on her own, the Fire Nation general was more than a match for the unlikely trio; Zidane kept running.

Backstage, Vivi was watching the play unfold with excited, unblinking eyes. The short troupe member, who went by the strange name The Duke, had positioned him by a row of wheels and pulleys that controlled the backdrop and some other painted set pieces. Occasionally The Duke would whisper a number to him, and he would pull or crank as needed. He wasn't very strong, so the constant exertion was difficult for him. But he was learning quickly, and aside from one embarrassing moment when he nearly dropped a cutout shrub on Princess Cornelia he thought he was doing a pretty good job. And in exchange Vivi was able to see the show from far closer than any one of the rich nobles in the theater, and who knows how much they had paid to get those tickets!

Blank and the rest of the Freedom Fighters waited anxiously for any sign of Jet or Zidane with the Princess. Marcus and Cornelia's long dialogue was nearing its end, which left only the final confrontation before the end of the play and their planned escape. The actors would rush straight through the backstage area and onboard their balloon, igniting the fuse on the blasting gel behind them to cover their escape. But they couldn't go anywhere without their prize, and it seemed as if she had eluded two of their best.

A crash echoed out from an adjacent corridor, and Blank instinctively drew his sword. He motioned Longshot and Cinna to him, and both drew their weapons as they followed him to the source. He could see bursts of light reflecting off the polished stone walls, the display too sudden and dramatic to be torches. He turned and hissed to the others, "Firebenders!"

Fearing for their friends, the three raced around the corner and were met with a complete mess. Zidane was headed toward them, but his path was almost entirely blocked by tattered furniture and aging, broken props from shows past. With one hand he haphazardly shoved a rack of clothes away from him, while the other maintained a firm grip on the princess' wrist. Behind them, General Beatrix was laying waste to everything within range of her sword; her pace barely broke as each obstacle collapsed in front of her. Jet was creeping along in her wake, his hook swords raised, waiting for the opportune moment.

"C'mon!" Blank shouted, before diving into the melee. He leapt past the princess and jabbed at Beatrix with his sword, unable to execute a proper swing because of the limited space. She pushed the attack wide without apparent effort and punched him full in the face with her gauntlet; his body rolled over a cherry wood dresser and disappeared from view. Up ahead, Zidane passed the princess off to Cinna. "Get her onto the ship!" he shouted over the din. No doubt the audience could hear their disturbance now – no matter. They had what they came for, and now it was time to get the heck out before Azula's personal guard executed them. At least the dry wood and tight quarters would keep her fire-bending at bay. Zidane drew his daggers and fell into a ready stance.

Beatrix raced for him as soon as she had cleared the last of the debris between them. Zidane heard the whistle of an arrow pass just over his right ear; only Longshot would have so much trust in his aim. The projectile was perfectly on target, but Beatrix blocked it with the flat of her blade. In another instant she was on him, and Zidane could feel the heat radiating from her as he ducked just under her strike. He was tempted to swing behind her and give Longshot another opening, but Blank and Jet already had position on her and she didn't seem concerned with anything except getting to the princess. It didn't matter - she brushed his counter aside like it was nothing and checked him into the wall with her armored shoulder. She continued past Longshot before he could notch another arrow and bolted around the corner, leaving all four boys in her furious wake. Zidane doubled back to help Blank to his feet, by which point Jet had caught up to them. "Let's go!" Jet shouted to the others; "We need to cast off while we still can!" Together they raced back to the ship.

Onstage, complete chaos had broken out. Cinna had raced past a confounded Marcus with the princess in tow, screaming about their pursuer and the need for an immediate getaway. At his warning the entire cast had scrambled to pack up and leave through the upstage exit, though Marcus had the presence of mind to shout at the princess, "At last Cornelia, we shall flee together and be married in a faraway land!" before escaping. The audience was actually enthralled by this new twist in Lord Avon's famous play, even those few who recognized that the hooded lady was actually their own Princess Garnet. At this point some careless foot had upset the waiting bucket of pentapi into the front row, breaking the illusion and sending the surrounding crowd into a confused panic. Lords shouted and ladies fainted as the purple suckers harmlessly attached themselves to any bit of flesh within reach of their slimy tentacles. As the screams multiplied, the Fire Nation guards on duty realized that their services might be required onstage. They readied their weapons and marched up the ramps at either end of the stage.

When The Duke saw the guards approaching from both wings, he called for Vivi. The poor Fire Nation lad was still standing in the same spot as before, and had pulled his pointed hat down over his ears to block out the offending commotion. Despite the danger of the situation, The Duke couldn't help but feel pity towards this frightened soul. He ran to Vivi, grabbed both his shoulders, and gave them a hard shake. At this the boy's eyes darted upward, and they stared out wide and frightened from underneath his hat.

"C'mon, we gotta go!" The Duke shouted. He quickly turned to the pulley system and grabbed a pair of levers, leaping into the air to allow the full weight of his body to crash down on the instruments. This freed the corresponding ropes to rocket up to the ceiling, pulled down by the net of heavy barrels attached to each opposite end. The barrels crashed down on either side of the stage, knocking out several guards and blocking the paths of everyone behind them. His work complete, The Duke grabbed the hem of Vivi's cloak and pulled him toward the exit.

The remaining Freedom Fighters fought back against the few soldiers who had made it onstage before the barrels collapsed. Pipsqueak's log made quick work of even metal helmets, and Baku's long life of thievery made him one of the dirtiest fighters in all the four nations. Together they cleared the stage for the rest of their gang and prepared to cast off. But before they could climb aboard, a concussive blast of fire ripped into the hull, cracking boards and melting nails. Beatrix stood before them, her shoulders heaving with exertion and rage at the kidnapping. "Return the princess!' she commanded. Behind her Baku could see Jet, Blank, Zidane, and Longshot climbing one of the guidelines onto the airship. He, Pipsqueak, and The Duke were the only ones not on board – there was no use fighting, so they had to take their chances and make a break for it. As he ducked through the doorway, Beatrix punched another fireball at the group. In a panic, Vivi swept his arms into the air; the fire was pushed up and back, impacting into the rafters with a crash. The last thing he saw was the look of shock and betrayal on the general's face before he scrambled through the doorway himself.

Azula had been watching the play with bored amusement until Garnet appeared onstage. She understood instantly what was happening, though she couldn't fathom Garnet's willingness to go along with the plan. There was no denying it – her cousin was not resisting the kidnappers, but was in fact actively fleeing Beatrix. Regardless, there could be no way that Tantalus would be leaving Ember Island this day. But Azula's blood boiled as she watched the royal guard make a spectacle of themselves, and in front of half the Fire Nation nobility to boot! As if that weren't enough, these ruffians had a traitorous Fire Nation child with them! They had to be brought to justice, and swiftly. Fine, Azula thought, I'll do it myself.

She ran up to the edge of her balcony and kicked off the guardrail, backflipping onto the roof above. From there she raced to the nearest line of suspended lanterns and quickly tight-roped her way to the top of the proscenium, her arms flung behind her for balance. Upon reaching the edge of the stage she leapt to the ground, palms down and out at a diagonal for a last-second burst of flame that arrested her momentum and pushed her into a somersault. She came up on her feet just as the airship was pulling away from the stage.

"We need to bring them down without harming the princess," Beatrix reported matter-of-factly. "We could puncture the balloons, but that might…"

"Mercy doesn't become you, general," Azula replied coldly. "My cousin allowed herself to be captured, so as of right now she is an enemy and a threat."

"How can you-" Beatrix began, but Azula had already turned her back and walked off in the other direction. Beatrix watched her grab a handful of the netting that held the heavy barrels; with sudden speed she turned and hurled the material at the slowly retreating form of the airship. The net fell onto the hooks of the ship's anchor, which the kidnappers had not had time to retract. The ropes grew taut as the vessel pulled away, and soon the net and its contents were dragged offstage to dangle under the ship's keel. At last Azula spared a glance toward Beatrix, smirking at her subordinate's wide eyes and general confusion.

"They left their blasting gel behind", she said lightly, reveling in her own little joke. "I thought we should return it to them."

She faced the retreating vessel and adopted a fighting stance; Beatrix dropped her weapon and mirrored her. Together they lifted their front legs and raised their arms, then as one leapt into a pirouette and pushed out their palms. A stream of fire shot from their hands and impacted the barrels, igniting them in a huge explosion. The blast rocked the airship, and it began listing dangerously back and forth. Smoke poured from the ship's stern as bits of wood and metal dropped from the damaged sections or were consumed and turned to ash. But the vessel stayed airborne despite the blast and continued its flight from the Fire Nation. Azula seethed. Her eyes narrowed, and she spit two words at Beatrix with as much cold hatred as she could muster.

"Find them."

Author's Notes

The play was not staged on the deck of the airship like in FFIX, but the ship was moored directly against the ship and used as a backdrop. I probably could have done a better job explaining that in previous chapters. In general I didn't plan the layout of the theatre very well in my head.

Also, I am using the term "airship" even though they are Avatar-style balloon or zeppelins and not Mist-powered airships. As air travel is already ubiquitous in this combined world, I think the term still works.

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