And we're back! Though you may not believe your eyes, this is indeed an update. I have, regrettably, been unable to locate my flash-drive, but no matter: I have begun re-writing everything. It will be arduous and somewhat torturous, but I persevere for the kind souls who want to read about Ryoku, Iroh and their adventures with Korra. A word of warning- updates will still be a little slow, unfortunately...
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Time: present, circa episode 4
Location: Iroh's office, F.N.S. Western Sun
Iroh looked up from his desk as someone tapped on the door to his office.
"Come in," he called, picking up another pen.
The door creaked slightly as it swung open, revealing a teenager bestowed with a large, regal bird on his arm. "General Iroh, sir! There's a hawk for you, sir!" He hastily snapped to attention and saluted with his free hand.
"At ease, Ensign," Iroh said as he lazily returned the salute. He bent and rummaged through the bottom drawers of his desk for his set of leather falconer's gloves. The boy quietly calmed the bird as it began to fiddle with the message attached to its leg, getting a quick snap for his trouble. He looked to be sixteen, the lowest age permissible by the navy, and was obviously employed as an aid to the ship's hawk-master (one of the few non-combative positions available).
Iroh slipped the left glove on and held out his arm for the hawk. It beat its wings heavily and was soon perched on his wrist. The ensign appeared awed at stepping foot into the general's office, and at the easy manner with which he commanded the deadly bird. Iroh was certain that the boy's arms were covered in scratches despite the protective gloves he wore.
Iroh smiled at him kindly, "Hawk release codes are classification level delta, ensign…?"
"Harris, sir!" he saluted again.
"Well, ensign Harris, hawk release codes are classification delta, so you may be dismissed. Please remain outside to receive the hawk, also."
"Yes, sir, sorry sir…" the boy stammered as he made for the door, "I'll be going, sir!"
Iroh chuckled to himself as he regarded the hawk on his arm. A quick check of the jesses tied to the hawk's legs, and Iroh laughed again.
"I haven't seen you in some time, Hawkman" He held out his hand near the bird's feet, "Release package, Hawk 607, summer nights."
The hawk eyed Iroh and, judging him to be satisfactory, stuck out his leg so that Iroh could remove the small scroll tied there. Hawks, while sometimes cranky and more difficult to train than carrier pigeons, were prized for their ability to fly long distances and to protect their messages at all costs. It was for this reason that hawks were used almost exclusively for highly classified information, or for Special Forces intelligence. This hawk in particular, Hawk 607, had originated from Special Forces Squad 6; denoted by the first numeral, 6, and the last two digits signifying its place as the seventh hawk of that squad. Even so, the junior members in many squads nicknamed their birds since it was their duty to care for the hawks. Iroh reached out with one heavily protected hand and stroked the bird's head softly,
"What could this be about?" he asked it jokingly, "The Western Sun isn't slated to host a Spook Squad for another tour or so."
The hawk impatiently jiggled its leg. Hawkman wanted his dinner, and he wouldn't get it until the strange being in front of him took the strange thing off of his leg.
"Fine," Iroh plucked the scroll from the bird and then lofted Hawkman towards a perch in the corner of his office. Iroh was about to call in Ensign Harris to take back his hawk when he became intrigued by a phrase containing "Future Industries" in it. As he began to read the entire message his countenance became steadily darker. Harris would have to wait: the message claimed that Future Industries was supplying the Equalists. Iroh felt as if someone had poured ice water down his back, almost all of his beloved Western Sun had been crafted by Future Industries- all of the technological and communications systems, the engines, generators and even some of the weaponry. The message had no indication of origin so the contents couldn't be entirely trusted, but caution was still the best option.
Iroh picked up the intercom radio piece,
"This is the general speaking, the first mate to my office, along with the chief of engineers, please."
Then he sat behind his desk and waited for Arthur, and chief engineer Aido Fukiko to knock on his door. Presumably the Chief claimed the job of knocking because seven minutes later Iroh heard three soft knocks.
"Enter."
Arthur, and Aido shuffled in. Arthur was intent, but Aido seemed more disgruntled. He polished his little round glasses with a soft cloth he kept in the thick leather tool-belt he was fond of wearing. Iroh noticed that his hands were smeared with grease.
"Chief Fukiko, did I pull you away from something?" he inquired after receiving their salutes.
"We were flushing out a strange sound in one of the engines, sir." Aido said gruffly, Iroh's heart sank.
"But it was nothing more than some loose ball bearings," the engineer continued, "The sub-engineers are removing them now. Engine performance shouldn't be disrupted at all, we can maintain our current speed and course."
Iroh visibly relaxed, "Good." Then he tapped the papers on his desk, "I have received word that Future Industries may be implicated in the Equalist movement."
Arthur scowled, "But, sir, we were just outfitted with Future Industries equipment at our last dry dock!"
"Which is why," Iroh nodded towards Chief Aido, "You will be working with the Chief here to both examine every piece of Future Industries equipment for tampering. Also, I am tasking you with evaluating our weaponry and I want a report on our battle capabilities minus anything from Future Industries, should the situation go awry. I expect your first report in three days."
Arthur snapped to attention, as did Aido. "Yes, sir!" they chorused.
"That is all, but-" the general amended himself, "This is sensitive information with no point of origin, be discrete until we know if our fears are well-founded."
They said their affirmatives in unison, and then walked from the office, Chief Fukiko already deep in discussion with Arthur.
As Engisn Harris quietly came in to reclaim Hawkman, Iroh grimly regarded the posters of his ship's schematics tacked to the wall. He had never lost a ship, and he wasn't about to start with the Western Sun.