"This isn't right." Kysha said, her robes flailing about in the sandy winds. Hiroshi stood next to her, his goggles the only saving grace against the impenetrable dust storm. In the streets, dozens of cars were piled up in a honking mess, lights and sirens roaring in the distance: all the while, the sand filled everything, a constant and unyielding whirl.

"Of course it isn't!" Hiroshi shouted. "A sandstorm on a holiday? Downright awful! Nobody's going to be able to see-" He silenced as Kysha pressed a finger to his lips, shaking her head. She reached behind her, pulling up her hood, and shaking the sand from her hair. "What?" He asked, as Kysha huddled to the ground. She perked her ear to the air.

"None of this is natural." She said, turning toward the far street, where dozens of lights shone amidst the silica of the sand. "We're in a false sandstorm – someone's cooked it up." With a sudden rush, Kysha snapped back, a police satomobile rushing by – a Sultanate Police Satomobile, not Water Tribe.

"How far are we from that Eyrie you were talking about?" Hiroshi asked. "We're-" He paused, feeling around at his belt, and putting an earpiece to his ear. "Yes, what-" The field washed out in static, a warble hitting his ear. Hiroshi let the microphone drop, and glanced at Kysha in confusion. "I just got a call on the radio – but it's all interference. Something's jamming the radios!"

In the distance, shrieks resounded, even muffled by the wind. Flashes of flame and light crackled – police lights warbling uptown, at the far end of the chaos. In streams, people ran down the sidewalks, fleeing from the chaos. Kysha and Hiro shared a look of confusion, before Kysha grabbed the arm of a bystander. "Ma'am." She said, smiling. "I'm Master Kysha, of the Air Nation. Do you know what's going on?" Her dimples crinkled in that old motherly way, and the woman she'd accosted relaxed slightly.

"Sorry, mami." The woman said. "I only saw the fireguns – police are fighting the freemen – and the waters are helping beat them. It's not safe. They don't like the festival." A man tugged at her arm, and she disappeared – floating away in the foggy throng.

"Hiro, we need to get downtown – whatever's happening, we need to figure it out."

Hiroshi stared at her, shaking his head. "Or, we could be like normal people – get in line, go back to the spire, leave!" He said, pantomiming with his hands. "No danger, no trouble, just disappear!"

"We're not taking off in a sandstorm, Hiro. You know that better than anyone." Kysha said. She whirled an arm, forming a sand-free bubble of whirling air, and motioned Hiroshi onwards. They pushed through the crowd, their bubble blowing people a safe distance away. Abandoned vehicles lay ahead, further flaming bursts crackling in the distance, growing brighter and closer as they approached the heart of Misty Palms Oasis – The Frozen Square, where a massive ice sculpture of Avatar Korra was carved for her festival. It hung heavy in the sandy mist, worn at by the abrading silica, but it still lay there: staring down on Hiroshi and Kysha as they entered the plaza. Glimpses of fighting troops were all they had amidst the fire, and Kysha bent down, arms swirling in a bending motion. With a twist of her slippers, a brave wave of wind crashed through the plaza – clearing sand and flame alike. Crashed vehicles and a pair of Sand Sailors had filled the square, with a small squad of police officers – Sultanate police – facing off against nearly thirty sandbenders – armed with flameguns and their own bending.

A momentary pause broke out, as both sides regarded the new arrivals. "You! Airbender!" The Police Sergeant shouted. "These locals have a bomb! They're trying to blow up the plaza!"

"These oppressors are handing us over to the Water Tribe!" A Sandbender shouted, triggering a gout of flame from his weapon. The police ducked behind their vehicles, melted from the heat already. "They take our prospecting, they take our sailors, they take our livelihoods! The Sultan is a traitor to Sheng!" His compatriots let out angry war cries, launching a sandy barrage.

Hiroshi grabbed Kysha's arm - "Look, do what you want – but we're not here to fight wars for other people. Xin and Shao are alone on the ship – and god knows what's happening everywhere-" Hiroshi jumped forward, knocking Kysha into the stone beneath them as a pair of rocks flung overhead – the sandbenders firing earth now to drive off the pair.

Kysha rolled out from beneath Hiroshi. "We're going to need friends to clear out this sandstorm – and that means helping defeat these guys. I'm not here to pick sides, but I know what we've got to do." She said, standing up. A twirl of her arms sent approaching rocks into shrapnel, crackling in a cone behind her. Hiroshi stumbled to his feet, snapping a ring of water out of his hip cask. Without further adieu, they charged – Hiroshi tossing a pair of ice darts at the enemy – forcing the attacking Sandbender on the defensive. Kysha snapped up onto a whirling ball of wind, spitting sand behind her as she whirled around the rear of the Sandbenders – dodging flamebursts as she charged their positions.

Hiroshi slammed into position with the police, tossing more ice darts. "Gentlemen, your aid has arrived!" He shouted. The Sergeant nodded to him with a smile.

"We appreciate the aid, traveler. We're not well staffed with benders in these parts!" He shouted, ducking beneath a pair of firebolts. He rose, firing a hand-sized flamegun at his opposition. "These damned terrorists have been attacking the Sultanate for months now! Angry Sandbenders mad that the Sultan has outsourced oil prospecting to the Southern Tribe."

Hiro dropped a trio of icebolts, as the enemy was forced to draw back – a swirling mass of air and sand indicating Kysha in full swing on the far side of their battlements. In the distance, sirens and flameblasts roared out. "Where are your support troops? Do you have reinforcements?" Hiro asked. "There should be mechatanks and -some- bending support, right?"

Across the field, three sandbenders went flying as Kysha advanced – a whirling shield of air protecting her from cutting sand and fireblasts. She shot hard scythes of air with her fist, the cutting wind destroying cover and forcing the sandbenders back. Strangest of all, though, was an absence of anything bomb-looking. "Hiro!" Her voice enhanced by her abilities, it carried over all of it. "They don't have a bomb!"

Hiro looked at the Sergeant. "No bomb?" The Officer said, reaching for his radio. It squealed interference back at him, and he cursed beneath his breath. "The Spirit-Meter at base had a huge squawk a few hours ago – we had expected them to attack the festival: so the question is, where's the bomb?"

The Police rose from cover as Hiro reached out, snagging ice from Korra's statue. With a solemn wince, Hiro send a shower of spikes down on the enemy – and they began to put down their arms in surrender. The police swarmed them, gathering flameguns and locking them in chains – the sandbenders spitting in defiance but silent. One simply smiled, wild eyed. "You'll all burn, anyways!" He shouted. "Once we're done-" His comrade hit him hard in the jaw with his cuffed hands, cold-clocking him.

The Sergeant looked at the pair, frowning. "Thank you for all of your help." He said. "Not many want to help us in this town – these are just a symptom. Can you help us get these men to the station?"

"Sure." Kysha said, cutting off Hiro as he moved to speak. "We're going to need our vessel impound voided so that we can leave, perhaps that can happen there?"

"We'd be just next to the Southern Tribe Guard Headquarters – I'm good friends with a guy on their staff, I'm sure he'll help you. Especially so, considering there's a bomb at stake." The Sergeant said. He offered them the back of a cruiser – the vehicle puttering off despite melting on one side. The other police vehicles began to pull into rough convoy behind it, pushing through gnarled streets. It was clear from passing other boulevards and squares that this wasn't the only fight – but the radios were still dead. Flameguns triggered in back alleys and on street corners.

Kysha glanced over at Hiro, who chittered at his seat. "They'll be alright." She said. "Xin's resourceful, and Shao wouldn't let anything happen to her baby."

"I know." Hiro said. "But with how things are here?" He shook his head. "They may not have a choice."