Courage is a moral quality; it is not a chance gift of nature like an aptitude for games. It is a cold choice between two alternatives, the fixed resolve not to quit; an act of renunciation which must be made not once but many times by the power of the will. –Charles Wilson

"Papers! Prepare to present your papers!"

A groan went up through the throng of people shopping in Gaoling's central market. The state had been one of the first pacified by the Provisional Authority, and the request for papers had long since become a commonplace annoyance. Though, some of the younger people grumbled, the soldiers had once said please. The soldiers moved with brisk efficiency, the sunlight gleaming off their metal armor. A few people, mostly old women who reminded Asami remarkably of Yin, seemed positively eager to show the soldiers that their papers were in order. Most of the rest stood silent and plastered deferential smiles on their faces. A few looked around nervously. Probably people carrying small amounts of opium or whatever vice had Kuvira horrified this week. As if anyone could be horrified by a few drugs when VarriFuture Industries produced every mecha tank and airship the army used.

Asami took her identification from her pocket and held it out for the guard's inspection. It was impossible to read his face through the mask, but his breath came in short, metallic gasps. "Sato, Asami," he read. "United Republic, no bending, one-quarter foreign blood, special work permit, unrestricted movement." His voice cracked even through the metal. "You're her. You were Avatar Korra's friend. You and that other guy, the earthbender. What did he call you? Something Avatar.

The people around her were staring, twittering at this latest piece of gossip. Asami flinched inwardly. She had come to Gaoling a few weeks earlier to oversee the factory at Varrick's insistence, but she had tried to be as anonymous as she could. Asami, not Ms. Sato. Just another manager, not a failed CEO who had had her own company stolen from her. And certainly not a member of Team Avatar. No matter what Bolin said, they hadn't been Team Avatar since before Harmonic Convergence. Team Avatar had four members, not three, and not even Bolin had been able to find Mako after Raiko had banished him for the cultural center bombing. Her fault, for realizing too late that Varrick wasn't her friend and for being too much of a coward to risk her failing company for the sake of the man she loved.

And now she had no boyfriend, no company, and no Avatar.

The soldier seemed oblivious. "You killed that waterbender with no arms. That was so cool!" He gestured frantically at the wine-colored scarf around her neck. "Can I see the scar?"

Another soldier marched up to the boy and put her hand on his shoulder. "Enough with your celebrity hunting, Hong Li. We have work to do." She nodded at Asami. "Sorry, ma'am." The soldiers marched down the street, checking papers as they went.

Asami made a show of examining the silk robes "direct from the Fire Nation." Asami flipped one over. The garment tag at the neck had been cut out, but there was still a jagged edge with the barest hint of yellow and green. "Direct from Omashu, more like it," she muttered.

The proprietor, a large slightly balding man shrugged. "People want to brag to crazy friends they have Fire Nation gowns. Who am I to disagree?" His gaze flickered east. "And I'm not mad enough to try for the real thing."

Asami followed his gaze. She could just barely see the glint of the wall that divided the Foreign Quarter from the rest the city. In the time of Avatar Aang, it had housed the poorest of the city. It still did, but the demographics had changed. Now it was the home of the dojin, those who were technically citizens of the Earth Kingdom but were ethnically Fire Nation or Water Tribe. Many had immigrated to the United Republic over the last seventy years, but those who remained had found themselves stuck there by custom and later, as what was left of civil order fractured in the wake of the Earth Queen's death, by law. Even Kuvira's forces rarely ventured within the walls. It was a hotbed of sedition, rumors said. Of murder. Of rape. And you could get anything there for the right price.

A flash of red caught Asami's attention from the corner of her eye. The man was perhaps thirty or forty, with a dirty brown coat that had been patched and repatched. He was tall, with a gaunt, sallow face, and constantly shifting from foot-to-foot. Asami couldn't take her eyes from his scarf. It was red, like hers, but a brilliant crimson she had only seen once before. Asami made a fist. It wasn't the same scarf. Mako had taken that with him when he left the city—the only thing he had taken as far as she knew. This was just a common bit of cloth. Anything else was just another phantom created by her guilty conscience.

The soldiers approached him. "Papers."

His eyes bugged. "Papers?" He patted his coat with increasing urgency. "I seem to have left them at home."

"Well I guess we can let you o—" Hong Li grunted as his partner jabbed him in the stomach. "I mean, I'm afraid you'll have to come with us."

"Oh, how silly of me. Right here." He produced a passport, still fidgeting as he did so.

The woman snatched it from him. "These expired last month. And what are you doing out of your quarter without a work permit? I'm afraid you really will have to come—"

But the man had already taken off down the street in a dead run, pushing screaming pedestrians out of his way. His red scarf fluttered behind him. Asami could almost hear Korra in her ear. This is just as bad as the Earth Queen. Maybe worse. At least she left everything that wasn't Ba Sing Se pretty much alone if they paid their taxes. Remember when we used to cruise down the streets stopping Equalists and Tarrlok's goons?

"I remember." They had all been so terribly young then and convinced it was easy to be brave.

I did not almost die so that Whatshisname could inherit a police state. You ought to do something.

She could. Her glove was safely locked away, but a handful of unenthusiastic metalbenders were nothing compared to Ming-Hua. She could stop them with a few strikes. They'd fall to the ground before they even knew she'd struck.

And then what? There were dozens of witnesses. She'd be arrested, probably executed no matter how chummy Varrick was with the Provisional Authority. The man she'd tried to save would be recaptured and either killed or sent to a labor camp for espionage. The factory would come under fire. Innocent people would lose the only thing standing between them and poverty. Anything she did when only make things worse. Asami was so very tired of the good she did only making things worse.

Another voice. Mako's. Or you're just a coward.

Asami stayed where she was.

The female soldier sighed and let fly a metal shard from her pauldron. It sailed through the air like a dagger and lodged in the man's neck. Blood spurted from the artery. He made a choking, gurgling sound as he fell. A child screamed only to have her mouth quickly covered by her mother. The man landed at an unnatural angle and papers spilled from his pockets. Posters emblazoned with Prince Wu's face. Long Live the King! Down with the Great Uniter! A single blank sheet of paper containing nothing but a stylized plum blossom.

It took every ounce of finishing school training for Asami keep her face still. The Provisional Authority monitored and censored every newspaper and book, but they couldn't censor the whispers: the rumors told and retold in every pai sho parlor and tavern from Ba Sing Se to Chin Village. They told of an organization dedicated to sending the Provisional Authority back to Zaofu and crowning Wu immediately to preside over a decentralized Earth Kingdom as Kuei had done. Or they were democrats. They were remnants of the Red Lotus. One woman swore she had seen Amon prowling the Foreign Quarter with them. They were pacifists; they were saboteurs. The only thing anyone could agree on was that they used the sign of the plum blossom and that they officially didn't exist.

Hong Li ripped off his mask and ducked into the alley. A few moments later, Asami heard the unmistakable sound of retching. Most of the other people in the market stared in numb horror. Gaoling was an old city, a genteel city. Even the capitulation to Kuvira had been more a tactical move them one of necessity. Asami could already hear whispered "of all the things to do in front of children" and a promise to write a strongly-worded letter to Kuvira. But most of them were like Asami, transfixed by the blood working its way through the cobblestones and the drawing of the plum blossom.

The female soldier summoned her shard and wiped the blood from her blade as if she did this every day. "All right everyone. Go about your business. That's an order, in the name of…" She glanced down at-the-blood-soaked posters and pamphlets. "In the name of the Provisional Authority. And somebody get a sanitation team down here."

Asami shuffled home. The sun broke through the clouds, and the scent of flowers filled the air, but Asami's vision was filled with red and purple. Scarves, blood, and flowers. She and Korra had defied the embodiment of chaos once upon a time. An overzealous military should be nothing. But she had had Korra before. Even after Mako had left, it had been Korra righting wrongs with Asami as her unfailing, glad lieutenant. Korra was lost to the poison, and Bolin was stuck bodyguarding Wu. There was nothing she could do on her own.

Korra again. But this standing by on the sidelines isn't you at all. We just need to find something for you to do. Seems like this place could use a savior. If you really aren't a coward.

"I'm not," Asami whispered to the air. "Just tell me what to do."

Asami's home here wasn't as grand as the mansion, but it was close. It had been the old Beifong estate once, someone had told her. A token of the Provisional Authority's esteem and gratitude for the partnership with VarriFuture. Probably Varrick's idea. He'd beaten her. No reason not to be magnanimous in victory. And as Asami felt the hot water wash over her, she could almost forget to be offended.

Asami had changed into her dressing gown and was making notes in a ledge when a brief, firm rap sounded on the door. Chie, busy dusting and rearranging glass figurines of Aang and his friends, stiffened. Asami went to the window and looked out. A single Provisional Authority guard stood outside the door, hands behind his back. "No need to be nervous," Asami said with what she hoped was a kind smile. If they had wanted to arrest someone, they would'vesend more than one soldier. "Tell Huo to see what he wants."

Asami watched from her perch as the soldier made a great show of leaving a card and what looked like a folded letter with her butler. Some diplomatic nicety or other. A few minutes later, Huo gave his own perfunctory knock and marched into the study bearing a tray with the visiting card and an envelope bearing her name. "It appears the Provisional Authority is finally deigning to take notice of us," he said with a barely restrained scorn.

There was a scandalized noise from Chie, but Asami took the letter from Huo without comment. He had known her since before her mother died, and was one of the few staff members who had followed her to Gaoling. She read.

My dear Ms. Sato,

It is my pleasure to formally welcome you to Gaoling. Your actions against the Red Lotus and commitment to the cause of order and balance do you great credit, but it is your technical knowledge that has come to my attention. I request your presence tomorrow at 3 pm to discuss a matter that may be critical to the security of the Earth Kingdom and completing the work of Avatar Korra.

Sincerely yours,

Col. Damayanti Kala

Provisional Authority Security and Intelligence Office

"I've heard of her," Chie said breathlessly. "Practically the first one out of Zaofu after Kuvira and Bataar. Rumor has it she took down a cell of Red Lotus all by herself. And a few bystanders. And you've seen those 'May Kuvira live for one thousand years' posters? She's a big fan of them. And she's—"

"That's enough, Chie," Huo said. "Ms. Sato has had a very long day and doesn't need you gossiping about the people in charge."

When Chie had left, Huo locked the door behind them. "You do look like something the rabbit-cat dragged in. It wouldn't have anything to do with that resistance fighter in the marketplace, would it?" He smiled at her. "Chie isn't the only one who listens to gossip."

"You know me entirely too well." Asami rubbed her temples. "It's better than the Earth Queen or the Red Lotus, but it's still not right. If Korra were here, she would put everything right. No papers or curfews or walling off a whole section of the city."

Huo made a noncommittal noise, and Asami narrowed her eyes. She knew that look; it was the same look he had given her as a child when she had made an elementary algebra mistake and he wanted her to figure it out for herself. "What is it?"

"Do you remember what the difference between a laborer, a philosopher, and an engineer is?"

She smiled at the memory of the old lesson. "A laborer only does what he is told, a philosopher speaks only of the world as it should be, but the engineer tries to improve what is. With lots of tape if necessary."

"Indeed." He took the chair opposite her. "Maybe Korra could do better, but Korra's not here. And perhaps you can't kill a soldier in broad daylight and get away with it. So what can you do? The answer isn't nothing. No, not even at VarriFuture. For one, Varrick doesn't strike me as the kind of fellow who cares what you do as long as he gets his precious profit. You still have people who depend on you. All the firbenders and waterbenders who work at the factory. Charity work that needs doing." He reached across the desk and covered her hand with his. "Perhaps it's time for you to stop beating yourself up over Future Industries and that boy of yours and focus on the people you can still help."

Asami gave him a small smile. But when she dreamed that night it was of a red scarf lying in the dirt and nameless voices calling her a coward and a fool.

Asami had ducked into the women's powder room to reapply her lipstick when she heard the unmistakable sound of sobbing. A girl of no more than seventeen stood bent over the sink. She might have been pretty under ordinary circumstances, but makeup ran down her face in a river of black and peach. Her skirt and blouse were clean but slightly faded and unfashionable. One of the switchboard staff or typists. She saw Asami in the mirror and jumped up. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Don't worry about it." Asami moved to leave again and give the girl some privacy, then stopped. These were her people just as much is those at the factory in Republic City had been. Clearly, the girl needed something. She took a step forward and held out her arms. "Want to talk about it?"

"I—I—" The girl collapsed against Asami with a heaving sob. Asami brought her arms around her and let her cry herself out, making soothing noises and stroking the girl's hair as she had done for Korra when the pain had been too much to bear.

"I'm pregnant," the girl said at last, her voice a barely-human croak.

Asami didn't say anything. She and Mako had always been careful, but her late adolescence had been full of whispers of girls led to ruin by an unwanted pregnancy. Her mind whirred, cataloging the problems and likely solutions. "It's all right. There are people who can help you with the expenses or anything else. And this isn't the sort of place to fire you for that."

The girl looked at Asami through red eyes and seemed to notice her for the first time. She stepped back so quickly that Asami nearly lost her balance. "Ms. Sato! I'm ruining your jacket. I'm so sorry. So... "

Asami looked down at her tearstained jacket. "Never mind that. Do you need money? A place to stay?"

"It's not that." Grief was replaced by a sudden wariness. "Is it true what they say about you? That you turned on your own dad because you thought he was doing a bad thing? That you stood by the Avatar no matter what?"

"It's true." A warning prickle traveled up Asami's arms. "This isn't just about the baby, is it?"

"My boyfriend. The police, they…in the market yesterday… I told him getting mixed up with those Plum Blossoms was a mistake…"

Asami stiffened. "That was your boyfriend." The warning prickle became a full-blown shiver. When she was a little girl, her nurse had told her dark spirits paid back every bad thing she did. A child's morality tale, but the truth was far worse. Every little action or inaction had its consequences and here were the consequences for hers: a devastated girlfriend and a child without a father. "I'm so sorry."

"Thank you." She wiped her eyes. "He wouldn't tell me half the stuff he did, wouldn't even marry me. At first, I thought it was because he was so much older, but now…if they find out I am—I was—his girlfriend, they'll kill me. Or worse."

"Not with the ba—" Asami checked herself. Korra had thought Unalaq wanted nothing more than to restore the spirituality of the South. Asami had thought Varrick had only wanted to help her. Better to assume the worst. "What do you need?"

"I need to get out of here. I've got some cousins in the Republic, but it's hard to get an exit visa. Especially if you're, well, if your family isn't from around here."

And downright impossible if your boyfriend was committing sedition when he died. Asami took a deep breath and cast her eyes heavenward as if she could summon Korra from the South by will alone. With this make her happy? Would it, and some small way make up for Asami's cowardice? Would it help?

There was no answer except for the sound of Asami's heartbeat. It didn't matter. Focus on the people you can still help. "I'll get you a visa. Still some starstruck people around here. That has to count for something."

The girl threw herself at Asami again. "Oh, thank you! Thank you!"

Asami flushed and disentangled herself with as much grace as she could. "It's nothing." A thought struck her. "I don't even know your name."

She sniffled. "Tsu-chen."

"Well, Tsu-chen," she said with a smile she didn't feel. "I promise you and the little one will be safely back in Republic City before you know it."

The prefecture was hideous even by the standard of government buildings. Gray, squat, and with harsh angles that made it stand out against the elegant curves of the rest of Gaoling. The metal disc of the Provisional Authority was plastered everywhere Asami looked as she passed row upon row of office workers going about their tasks with varying degrees of enthusiasm. She stopped one who was carrying a dangerously tottering stack of papers. "Could you tell me where to find Col. Kala?"

"She stepped out for a smoke, but try the Chief of Police's office. She always wants to yell at him about something. Third door on your right. And better me than you."

Well, that wasn't ominous at all. Asami opened the door. The Chief of Police's office looked like a poorly-trained airbender had blown through. Papers were scattered across every available surface of the desk. The chief stared back at her in surprise and dismay. Asami scowled. She had heard rumors that the Provisional Authority had brought in a former Republic City officer, but she never expected it to be Saikhan. His balding hair was grayer, and there were more lines in his face, but it was undeniably him. The barely audible gulp told her that he recognized her too. "Ms. Sato. What can I do for you?"

"Hello to you too." She had barely spared him a second thought since the Equalist uprising, but her shoulders tensed. Someone who would throw her in jail on his boss' say so; just what she needed. "I'm looking for Col. Kala. She had something she wanted to discuss with me."

"Some crazy idea Baatar and Varrick put into her head. I've got enough trouble around here without people dreaming of death machines. If you see him, tell Raiko thanks for dumping all his problems in my lap. Toss a few thousand crooks out of the city and every single one of them ends up in Gaoling."

"Well, at least we know you won't have a problem putting them in jail," she muttered under her breath.

"I did what I was told. Maybe I did a lot of things I shouldn't have, but I would've ended up in jail the same as you with nothing to show for it. Thirty years on the force up in smoke. Can you blame me?"

Asami had opened her mouth for a bitter retort when the sight of Tsu-chen's boyfriend lying in the street flickered across her brain. "It was a long time ago. Tell you what, you do me a little favor and I'll let bygones be bygones. Maybe even see what I can do about cutting you guys a good deal on our new electric weapons."

"What kind of favor?"

Asami smiled. It was so easy sometimes. "One of my employee's grandmother died recently. She wants to go home for the funeral, but she's having some trouble getting an exit visa. If you could just sign off on it, I would appreciate that."

"No."

"No?" Okay, maybe this wasn't going to be easy.

"Everybody who wants a visa needs a certificate along with their ID, stating they aren't a criminal or subversive element. Another thing you can thank Raiko for when you see him." He waved his hand over the mess of papers. "Your old friends Viper and Shady Shin have decided they want the Triple Threats back. In my city. I know you can't tell from that hoity-toity mansion of yours, but we've got a smuggling problem down here in the real world. You bring me the paperwork verifying your friend won't make my life worse and I'll sign anything you want. Until then, it's not worth my hide."

And if Tsu-chen could pass the background check, she wouldn't have asked for Asami's help. Stupid Triple Threa—wait a second. Where there's a black market and ID requirements, there are forgers. "Tell me about these problems you're having. I've fought a few crooks, if you remember, and I still owe Viper and Shin a few words about what they did to Future Industries." She pounded her fist into her palm for emphasis.

"Yeah, I guess you do." He smiled, but without humor. "They all operate out of the Foreign Quarter. Pack of spider-rats. Biggest problem I have isn't even with them. It's this Miracle Man guy. Opium, those electric gloves your dad invented, counterfeit cash, you name it, people say they got it from him. You kick his teeth in, I'll sign anything you want."

"Deal." If he was a counterfeiter, he sounded like a wonderful start in her search for fake documents. And if that didn't work out, well, beating up some criminals might make her feel better.

"Ah, Saikhan," said a cold, crisp voice from behind Asami. "I hope you've been keeping Ms. Sato entertained."

Asami turned. The woman behind her was beautiful in the way storms were beautiful. High, sharp cheekbones and delicate eyebrows. Her hair was beginning to silver, but it was still thick and lustrous. She wore the uniform of the Provisional Authority, and it was immaculate as the rest of her. But those eyes… Beautiful forest green ones that looked at Asami and Saikhan the way Varrick's accountants it's not worth my looked at the Future Industries factory right before they had decided to lay off ninety percent of the employees. Asami suppressed a shiver. "Col. Kala?"

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ms. Sato." They shook hands. Her grip was firm but not painful. "Follow me, please."

The office Kala led her into was so different from Saikhan's that it might have been from a different world altogether. A new mahogany desk so polished that Asami could see her reflection. Plush green carpet. A photograph of what Asami could only assume were Kala's husband and children sat on the desk next to one of Kuvira shaking Kala's hand.

"Have a seat, Ms. Sato." Kala stepped around the desk and opened a drawer. She handed what looked like a crude sketch drawn on the back of a napkin. The whatever it was had a long barrel, a revolving chamber in the center, and what looked like a downwardly curving handgrip with what looked like a trigger at the opposite end. "One of the products of Varrick's imagivation sessions. The revolving personal cannon, I think he calls it. Propels small pieces of metal at very high speeds by means of blackpowder. I want to know if it's a workable design, or if this is another hand shoes debacle."

"I don't know. I've never seen anything like this." She had seen naval cannons and rockets powered by blackpowder, but never anything designed for personal use. "You just load the metal into the chamber and it's propelled out?" She tried to visualize it in her head. "With enough force, it could rip into anything it came in contact with."

"And from quite a considerable distance. Very easy to train someone to use, in theory. It could change the face of warfare as we know it."

"Yes, it could," Asami said in a small voice. She turned the image over in her mind. Metal ripping into flesh or cloth. It might be possible for a skilled metalbender to bend the projectile away, but it would be going too fast for most people to dodge or block. All from the pull of the trigger. "It sounds like the sort of thing that my father would have designed."

"Just like your glove. Please, don't be squeamish about this. We non-benders need every advantage we can get." She touched the portrait of her family and an expression almost like tenderness crossed her face. "I just want to go back to the people I love." Ice again. "But to do that, we have to purge the undesirables standing in the way of a stable, united Earth Kingdom."

"It seems to me some of your soldiers don't need anything that makes it easier to kill. Maybe you'd have an easier time managing the city if you didn't wall everyone up and stab people for not having their IDs."

"You saw that, did you? Regrettable, but necessary. And he did turn out to be a traitor." She peered at Asami. "You have some Fire Nation ancestry?"

"My father," Asami said coldly.

"The United Republic does have a…very high number of those with mixed ancestry. And a distressingly high crime rate. Civil order depends on shared culture and a common understanding of who we are. For every exceptional case such as you and your friends, there are a thousand triads and riots. The only way to keep Gaoling safe is that wall and the identification cards. Pray that more extreme measures are not required."

And she wants me to build weapons for her after her speech like that? "I don't really think I'm the person you want for this project."

"The project of a stable and prosperous Earth Kingdom united under one banner? You are exactly the person I want. I was in Zaofu when you and your friends visited. I know how close you were to the Avatar. This is exactly the sort of thing she would be doing if she were well. Perhaps we are harsh, but we are only ordinary people. Hence the need for greater technology. Peace will only come through strength."

"I already have the work at the factory. Like I said, I really don't think I'm the person you want."

"Even if it's what Korra would want?" Kala steepled her fingers. "I should mention that the financial remuneration would be considerable. Enough to buy back Varrick's interest in Future Industries excuse me, I mean VarriFuture." She leaned forward and again her voice was soft. "What you lost can be regained. If this…RPC can exist, it will eventually be created. You may as well be the one. The name 'Sato' would become an icon for peace and order instead of treason and bigotry. You would be doing the right thing and not suffer for it."

Asami considered it. If the Provisional Authority was that desperate for her help, she could demand millions. Future Industries would be hers again. No more watching in silence as Varrick exploited her workers. She could go home. Maybe she would even find Mako, convince Raiko to pardon him. Which meant giving people like Kala a terrible weapon. To ensure yet more children grew up without fathers. When the history books told the story of how Wu regained his throne, her name would be mentioned alongside Kuvira and Kala. And they would mention the wall and the stabbings and everything else. She would be tarred with the same brush, spoken in the same tones people used when they discussed Jet. "My answer is no."

"I see. Good day to you, Ms. Sato. I hope I can eventually find an inducement that you will accept."