Chapter Fifty-Two: Filibuster.

The Guardian.

Aang is leaving today. Hooray. I'm looking forward to carrying my own bags and so forth. It'll be fun.

Plus, it looks like he's going to be ditching us in the middle of the woods! Thanks, Aang! You're a pal.

…You know, I don't think that the word 'pal' has ever been used seriously. I mean, it's automatically a sarcasm word. Was there a time when people would use that word and mean it, ever?

…Wait a moment, Aang's three thousand years old or something, isn't he?

What we have here is a unique opportunity. I'd better make the most of it.

The Assassin.

It took less than ten minutes for the people to start gathering outside.

It wasn't a mob, not yet. No one was sure enough of themselves just yet, no one was quite psyched up yet. In essence, it was an entire crowd of people ready to be the second man to cross the dirt line.

That gave us time, but the problem was it only took one man to grow a pair and then we'd be in trouble.

There were about thirty to fifty of them, almost the entire village, I expected. But they'd made a big mistake.

The children had come to watch. Probably didn't know what was going on at all. Just attracted to the fact that something was happening.

No parent wants to start a fight in front of their kids. So advantage: me.

Okay, how to do this. Perhaps if I-

Oh, the hell with it. Let's just go out there and see what happens next.

Taking a deep breath and a firm grip on my swordstick, I swung the door open and walked out into the road, Katara and Ty Lee staying inside, as requested by my hasty hand waving. I think I can take this. Besides, in case I can't, then at least they're out of the way of any thrown rocks.

"Okay," I began, trying to do my best to look unimpressed, "who's in charge here?"

Brilliant. That threw them. They glanced at each other, looking confused.

I sighed, long and theatrical, and shook my head.

"Okay, so who's the lawman around here?"

A voice from the back of the crowd spoke up.

"Dead. Those Fire Nation bastards killed him."

Ah, a friend. Sounds like a young man, good and angry at our tormentors.

"I see." I walked up and down the front rank of the villagers, making sure all eyes were still on me. Some actually backed up when I walked by, which I took as a positive sign. Sort of.

"You," I said, pointing at a middle aged man with a hoe, of all the various implements that could be used to kill someone. I mean, you'd get more out of a rake. "You're going to be the liaison here. Come on."

"Me? But-"

"Oh, come on. I don't have all day, you know." I was getting a kick out of this. Keeping everyone just confused enough that they go along with it just until they can get their footing again, which of course will be never. "Now, let's talk. You're here, because?"

"You heard," he grumbled, but didn't look me in the eye.

"You mean the thinly-veiled Fire Nation threat? I'd thought you'd have had a bit more backbone than to fall for that."

Ooh, wrong thing to say. From my peripheral vision, I can see people getting ticked off at that, raising makeshift weapons again.

"Well, that's easy for you to say, Mister Water Tribe, with your training and your fancy weapons."

Oh, let's just run with it.

"Yeah. It is easy for me to say. It's also easy for me to say this: send a messenger hawk to Chin village, and there will be an Earth Kingdom force here within a day, and you'll be free of the Fire Nation for good."

Not enough to convince Mr. Hoe here, but others are starting to exchange glances.

"We get by without causing a fuss just fine," he retorted, but I was flying now, propelled by sheer force of bullshit.

"Oh, sure, you can get by right now. But it's not going to last. You step out of line with the Fire Nation, and they'll grind you into the dust. But if you take a stand here and now, with our help, you can be free." Or all dead before the sun sets tomorrow. "You'll be able to move around again, leave the village for as long as you want, without anyone bothering to keep track of you in case you're a rebel." Most of these people have never gone more than fifty miles from their village in their lives, and probably never will. But it's the idea of freedom of movement that's important. "Now is the most important decision of your lives." My voice raised, no longer pretending to simply address Hoe Man. "Are you going to just sit back and survive on the scraps the Fire Nation throw to you, or are you going to take charge of your own lives?" Now I sound like a drunk version of Aang.

I stand still, waiting for their decision.

The Guardian.

"So, Aang."

"Yeah?"

"I was wondering about something, and I thought you could help me out."

"Sure, what is it?"

"I need to know if anyone ever in your experience used the following words and phrases seriously. You know, back before the whole thing where you somehow skipped forward a hundred years."

"...Sure, that sounds fun. What have you got?"

"Chum."

"...Nope."

"Huh. Pal."

"...Actually, I used to hear that one in the Fire Nation a few times."

"Swell guy."

"...I think I heard a pirate say that on the way to the North Pole, actually."

"Oh rats."

"...I think I heard Bumi say that one time."

"You knew Bumi? As in King Bumi? …Never mind, task at hand. Attaboy."

"Oh yeah. Kuzon said that all the time. It got kind of annoying after a while."

"Baloney."

"...Yeah, that got used now and again."

"Heebie-Jeebies."

"Nope."

"Jeepers creepers."

"Nuh-uh."

"Keen. As in, 'that's so keen'."

"Never."

"Hip to the jive."

"...What?"

"Screaming meemies?"

"Mai, what are you talking about?"

"Zozzled."

"Okay, now you're just making things up."

The Assassin.

I swaggered back into the inn, feeling very pleased with myself. I'd bought us day's worth of more time, and persuaded the villagers to busy themselves with various subversive activities that wouldn't actually have any effect, such as stockpiling food. After all, a bunch of untrained, unarmed peasants running around? Recipe for chaos. And not in a good way. I mean, sure, a target-rich environment would be kind of helpful, especially since our enemies stand out a lot more than we do, but I get the feeling that using the locals as glorified human shields wouldn't go down too well with the others.

But the token revolution was keeping them busy and their minds occupied, and if we did have to run, then our opponents might be too busy re-establishing their authority, and we could slip away.

Just a thought.

Katara exhaled. She, Ty Lee and the bartender were scattered around the room.

"So, what now?"

"We need to find a messenger hawk. Send word to the soldiers in Chin. If we're lucky, they'll get here by tomorrow morning. Otherwise, we'll have to move out to meet them and take our chances." That was the plan I had essentially dictated, as subtly as I could. I didn't have the talent some people (Azula, when it suited her, was a master of it) of telling people what to do while persuading them that it was really all their idea all along. So instead I had to resort to some overblown speeches that I didn't believe a word of, coupled with a few veiled threats (now those I am good at). They weren't scared of me, I don't think, just... wary. They'd figured out that I'm not going to be run out of town without a fight. With any luck, it'd last long enough.

I'm not going to get much sleep tonight, am I?

Katara volunteered to go and see if she could rent a hawk from someone, obviously glad to have something to do, but she wasn't so eager that she forgot to pester Ty Lee into getting some rest before leaving.

So I was by myself.

"I saw what you did there."

Well, not quite by myself.

"Very...impressive. Although I have to wonder how much of it you actually believe."

I shrugged.

"Anything's possible."

"I notice you didn't mention the possibility of failure. Or what would happen even if you won here. Don't you know who those men are?"

I glanced over to the innkeeper.

"Do you?"

"They're the Rough Rhinos."

I'm lost.

"...So, they've got a snazzy team name. Is that supposed to be intimidating? Because it could just as easily be applied to a sports team. Or a dance troupe, really. Or a singing group."

"They served under the Dragon of the West. They're known for conquering entire towns on their own. Their leader is one of the most ruthless men in the entire Fire Nation. They're legends. And you've set these people up against them."

"Hey, don't try to pin the blame on me here. The other guy"

"Colonel Mongke"

"Yeah, he's the one who dragged them into this in the first place. Besides, if everything goes according to plan, they won't have to fight."

"Even if you kill them, they will be missed. The Fire Nation will investigate their disappearance. You will be bringing the wrath of the Fire Nation down upon this whole area."

I shrugged.

"It's a war. That's what happens. Hey, don't blame me, it wasn't my side who started it."

I wondered if that might get a reaction. Nope.

"Besides, you're all doom-and-gloom. Nothing's certain, you know. The Fire Nation are on the back foot right now, I think they'll have more on their mind than a bunch of marauders, no matter how alliterative their team name is."


This has the distinct honour of being one of the worst chapters I have written in quite some time. Seriously, it was the most awkward of bastards, painful to get rid of like passing an entire chest of drawers through your digestive system, and I'm not sure what point any of it is trying to make, like second-rate French arthouse cinema.

Also, what's with the similes?