IT CAN'T HAPPEN HERE
Ziggy's Corner: This makes my thirteenth Avatar fan fiction. This one is a little darker, a bit more sci-fi than the rest. It answers the question, what happens if the Fire Nation would actually be capable for one reason or the other of breaking through the dimensional barrier that some rogue scientists think actually exists, and begin a take over of our world. Would they use force, or smooth talk to get they're way? And would we fight, or in the interest of dimensional profit and "friendship" just stand by and twiddle our thumbs (here I'm talking about mainly the politicians, and bureaucracies and fat cat lobbyists, etc. Not the fans likes us, who'd I would hope would take a stand), and watch the Fire Nation overturn everything our nation holds near and dear?
Washington. The name oozed power and dignity. For over two in a half centuries it inspired hope in the masses, confounded the rulers and controllers of mischief and chaos, and shone in the light of God's power and grace. No one brought this city down, save for the one time of the British burning her to the ground, and even then, her name carried on, lead the troops from depression, and carried onwards. Civil War, two world wars, a cold war, even the acts of religious fanatics in the beginning of the century, none of them brought the country or Washington to her knees.
Washington. A seemingly invincible city, with incredible sights. Only the immortal city of Rome revealed her in prestige it seemed. Yet with Rome, even now with Washington, immortality seemed only like words. The white house was gone, the Pentagon used as an enemy headquarters, a temporary palace, until a new one could be built. The Stars and Stripes, America as a whole was no more. And they did it to themselves. Just as Abraham Lincoln had predicted, no foreign army could take her cities, or take a drink from the Mississippi river. America was dead, because they had committed suicide. Not because of a Second Civil War, but because insanity.
"Please do rise, for the national anthem," a smartly dressed Asian male said to the crowd standing down below. Two-thirds rose to their feet, some hesitantly, some more enthusiastically. The music blared as the band of other Asian people began playing the anthem, not the Star Spangled Banner, but something that sounded a lot like a mixture of Oriental flow, and the Old Soviet Russia theme. "Fire Lord, my flame burns for thee…!" the man began singing.
Brent Bush was one of the few who remained sitting. He knew of the Nation which was now the main power of his world. Unlike the vast majority who seemed to have fallen in love with these new people, he knew their evil all too well. All you had to do was watch Avatar the Last Airbender to know anything about them.
Four years after the show had started in the children's network, a year after it diminished its third and final season, they came. There had been a flash of light, a rumble of earth. Some people thought that it was the end of the world, and then right outside New York harbor, were nearly thirty some old fashioned ships, that looked like they were right out of World War I. The occupants were all Asian, Oriental. They spoke in a middle aged version of Chinese, or Tibetan, and they seemed just as shocked that they were there as the Americans were to have them.
The military kept them curtailed in a camp near Cuba for months, grilling them, and found out that they were from a world called Earth as well. Except, they seemed to be able to bend and twist flames to their will, some of them even able to make it appear from will alone.
Brent remembered when he first heard about it. His heart skipped a leap, everything those scientists in the quantum field had said, but had been scoffed at, had indeed proved to be correct. There was more than one universe, possibly millions of them. The Fire Nation sailors were allowed to be interviewed by the press. Their ability to pick up other languages, and speak them nearly flawlessly was incredible. But what was most chilling was what they said, at least to Brent. They served the Fire Lord Ozai, and were members of his daughter's group. Princess Azula was not with them, having departed in her search for the Avatar, a dangerous criminal who threatened the peace of their world.
"They're lying," Brent said, as he watched. "They're just as bad as Russia. The Avatar is trying to restore peace to their world."
"You can't know that," his mother said.
"Everything they're talking about happened in the second season of the show," the then thirty-two year old man said.
"You are quoting from a cartoon show," she snapped.
"Which is based on their world," Brent continued to argue. "Not all cartoon shows are kiddie things mom. If the Fire Nation does really exist, then more than likely they are as evil as they are in the show."
He was told in no certain terms, that such fanatic talk would not be allowed in her house. The issue was dropped, at least for a while … until a certain fire princess seemed to find the same door her fleet did, months later, and came across with a much larger force. A stand off seemed inevitable, until the fifteen year old girl claimed that all they wanted was peace.
"We don't know how we came across your world, and rest assured we would like nothing more than to find a way back to our own world peacefully, and let this matter drop." She had said in a kindly, respectful voice. "Of course, we are willing to help in any way we can, and perhaps trade technology?"
His chest hurt. The main reason there had been no military confrontation with them was because of America's guns. The soldiers and sailors might have flame at their disposal, but America and this earth had technology that the Fire Nation could only dream of. It was then that his mother began to have her own doubts as well. Azula looked pretty, but her eyes were dead. Still there was a calm. What did the Fire Nation have to offer that America didn't already own?
The answer was simple, land, natural resources. Azula promised that she would talk to her father about trading land the state owned, for technology. Many fat bellied, rich tycoons began to rub their hands. America was cautious, Brent wasn't the only one who spoke out against the Fire Nation and Azula.
The girl was flustered, and anxious, but was a good actress. "I assure you that our world is nothing like what you have seem by these … animators. Honestly what kind of decent politics are run by the whims of children and mentally challenged people?"
Slowly, the nation began a love affair with the girl, and before they knew it, even more ships arrived and some ships from America left for their world. The bridge was open, and now it was open permanently. There were those who tried to sabotage it, destroy it, but they were apprehended, or arrested. Azula consoled the nation and the world. "People fear what they do not understand. I'm sure on our side the Avatar and those whose vision is limited have likewise tried to the same."
It was a year later, a new president was elected, one very interested in trade between the two dimensions. Soon more and more freedom seemed to slip by, and Brent began to slip off to a small book store, where a tiny gathering of anti-Fire Nation organization had gathered. There they plotted to free their land, and rid themselves of the menace. Three weeks before their first mission was to commence, the freedom of the country expired.
Brent was in his room, secretly looking over the notes he had gathered during the last meeting, when loud blasts could be heard in the desert just a little way from his house. Frowning he and his family edged toward the door, to look out, and saw blasts of flames, and bullets roar down their street. The military and the Fire Nation soldiers were marching up and down the streets, fighting off a small group of gang members, and pounding on doors, brushing aside the residences as they opened them. It didn't take a brush of imagination for Brent to know what was happening.
Hurrying back to his room, he gathered what papers he could, and tore up those he couldn't take with him. He then hurried to the back door, stopping only when his mother called out to him. "You have to let me go, I can't stay here."
She looked at her son and frowned. "What have you done?"
"The less you know, the better," he said. "I won't stand by and lose our country without a fight."
"I'm not letting you go out that door…," she began.
"Open the door, or don't, they'll bash it in. And when they do, they'll find out that there's a rebel here. Even if I didn't fight back, they'd come and take someone away, simply to be a scapegoat."
"You don't know that," she said. A sharp pound on their front door, shook them to the core.
"There is no tracing me to you," Brent said. "And I won't have you hurt because of me. I'm leaving." It was a stupid move, he knew that, but it was one he had to take. With night here, he could slip by easier, but not completely. Maybe once he got far enough away, he could draw their attention, and lure them away from the neighborhood. He rushed out, and headed to the back yard, and then snuck out of the gate.
A few American soldiers caught sight of him and ordered him to stop, but he turned and ran into the alley. He knew this was gang territory, and with the soldiers rounding up the lawbreakers like kids in a candy store, this was probably not the best place to have disappeared into. Then again … bullets flew by him coming from his back, and he dropped to his stomach. The soldiers bullets were answered by machine gun fire from gang members, who feared they had been found out, and were determined to make a last stand. Brent waited for a lull in the shooting, and inched his way across to some bush, where he stayed. Soldiers rushed by, flushing out the gang members and ignored him. A few hours later, he rose to his feet, and rushed off, hoping that some of the resistance had made it out alive.
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That was three years ago. America was a thing of the past now. Only two other members of the resistance had actually made it out from that sweep. Churches and schools both were outlawed and closed, unless it was the Royal Fire Academy. The president who had been so fond of this new nation, soon had his hands full with a full fledge revolution, which Brent stayed away from, biding his time. Soon Fire Lord Ozai took control of the situation, as he had done with many of the nations of Brent's world. Only six percent were truly free of his rule, a rule which should have ended four months after the arrival of the first Fire Nation ships in New York.
Brent found a new opposition party to join, and aided in numerous plans. While it consisted of numerous Earthlings at first, the party later took in Water Tribe and Earth Kingdom rebels as well. Leadership soon consisted of a council of both dimensions. It was only last month when the Avatar himself, along with his friends had found their way to the resistance, and now there was a new wave of hope. It further boosted the morale when Prince Zuko and his uncle also both proved themselves and joined up.
"I can't believe we're listening to this and doing nothing," Brent growled under his breath.
"Easy," Josh Tillman said, putting a hand on his shoulder. Josh was fourteen years younger than Brent, and had the physic of a college football player. Had the Fire Nation not seduced and enslaved the world, he might have been just that. "We have a mission to do."
"Reconnaissance is not a mission I'm used to," the thirty-five year old growled.
The younger man, a mixture of African and Native American chuckled. "Would you like to tell Frank that? Or Charles?" he chuckled, "Maybe even Haley?"
Brent chuckled, "I'm sure Suki would beat them all to the punch."
Both men chuckled at the thought of the Kabuki styled nineteen year old woman storming up to either of them and chewing them out. She looked like an able warrior in the cartoon show, though thin, but in real life, and with the extra three years, she was a six foot tall, five inch, powerhouse of an Amazonian. A hot Amazonian, but the men left that for Sokka to deal with, as she was his wife.
The national anthem had finished playing, and the Royal President marched up, to address his people. "My fellow citizens," he said, his voice cheery. "This is a great day in the history of our country, and our world. I have just finished speaking to his imperial majesty, and he has informed me that it is his great delight to admit our humble nation into the folds of his empire!"
There were a few jeers, but the vast majority roared with delusional enthusiasm. Brent was reminded of the scene in Final Fantasy VIII were the Sorceress killed the president of Deling City, and then promised to do as much to each citizen of the nation, to the cheers of her adoring worshippers. It seemed fiction liked to mirror truth more often than what most people wanted to admit.
"Our duty today is to inform those holdouts of our world that time is running out. Disunity will not be tolerated."
"Nice to know we're going to be running police duty for a power hungry maniac from another dimension now," Brent growled under his breath. Josh chuckled.
"Fire Lord Ozai is asking for fifty thousand men to be sent to the royal capital, to be trained in dealing with those who would have us live in chaos. I am here to tell you that a draft of men between the ages of sixteen to thirty are to report within the next week to the following military bases for assessment."
"And people though George W. Bush was a warmonger," Josh said. His eyes turned and he smiled at his partner, "How is your cousin by the way?" He smiled roguishly.
"Very funny," Brent snapped. Both were conservative Republicans, both were religious men, both had Bush at the end of their name. The difference was, Brent wasn't going to be pushed over by the crowd who only saw excitement and money in their eyes. He was growing tired of hearing how his "cousin", his "brother", his "uncle" or "father" was doing. He was about to tell his partner just that, when a click of a gun caught his attention, and his neck snapped in its direction.
"I heard it too, but I can't pinpoint where it's coming from," Josh said. He brushed his thin mustache and narrowed his eyes. "This could be bad."
"Headquarters," Brent whispered into the tiny microphone their scientists had invented for them, with the aid of the professor from the Northern Air Temple. "I think we have a situation."
"Brent, what are you talking about?" His brother James asked on the other end. "Just stay put."
"Someone in the crowd is packing," the younger brother said, still trying to find who had the gun.
There was a pause and then Zuko himself came on the other line. "Brent we've analyzed the situation, our agents can't pick out anyone with a gun. You're sure?"
"Most definitely," Josh said with a nod, listening in.
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Zuko stared at what the American's called a monitor and frowned. His hair had completely grown in, thick black locks rolling down his shoulders. He turned to his wife, Katara, and shook his head. The Freedom Movement's main base was hundreds of miles from Washington, but the feeling of dread was growing as much as if they were all there themselves. Brent and Josh were only supposed to get the speech, and try to read the situation, that was it.
"Could someone from a different opposition party be there?" Katara asked.
"It might even be someone from our dimension," Zuko said. "Hoping to strike a blow in new land, now that my 'father' has cracked down on most of the resistance back home.
"Why use a gun? Why not bend?" Katara asked.
"A good many of the people of our dimension have been using guns, since the dimensions were brought together," Zuko said.
"Our records show that Jet's resistance group likes using them against the Fire Nation," James said. He turned to Zuko, "Is it possible that someone from his group is there?"
"We've had our eyes on their group for some time now," the prince said, thankful that he had now possessed some of the resources of the Americans and British. "I don't think they might be involved."
James looked at he monitor, and typed in a few buttons. "Toph, King Bommie, are you there?" he called.
The old man chuckled on the other end. "Just call me Bommie, I haven't been king since the fall of Omashu." He smiled, "And especially since I left the city to the shock and irritation of the royal governor a few months after Aang tried to free me."
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The one hundred and fifteen year old man found himself comfortable in his new clothes, as he 'hobbled' around the Fire Nation capital building in Washington. He looked like he belonged in Miami, with his flower shirt, and tan kaki shorts. "But yes, we're here."
Brent and Josh were not the only members of the resistance. Boomie, and Toph, Aang's on again, off again girlfriend were also keeping an eye. "I don't know about a gun," the fifteen year old girl, with cataracts, and large black sun glasses. "I did feel very odd vibrations just a little east of the other guys."
"I did feel the same way," Boomie said with a nod. "But just as it moved, well, it was as if they just floated off their feet."
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Brent frowned. "Floated off their feet?"
"Like an air bender?" Josh said, holding his breath. He looked at his partner. There had been some survivors of Aang's world. But none of them had seemed to be radical. Not like this.
"Not known," Boomie's voice said on the other line.
"With all that tech, and those benders surrounding Princess Prissypants, I doubt anyone would try bending," Toph said.
"It's not worth our involvement any more," James said quickly. "We got what we needed, they should pull out."
"But we don't know if there was a gun," Katara could be heard on the other end.
"Azula is about to speak," Brent gasped. "If things are going to get bad, it should be about now."
The eighteen year old woman stood at the podium and looked down at the crowd. "Greetings, fellow citizens," she said sweetly. "It is with great pleasure that I welcome you into the Fire Nation, and into the Empire of Dimensions. With increasing friendship, and comradeship we will bring order into both worlds."
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"Great kindness always seems to come the words of the most ruthless right before they show their true face," Zuko said. He could hear the roar of the crowd, and he sighed. It would happen all over again, the majority following greed, while the minority tried to fight. Was this the beginning of a new one hundred years of war, that would take place on a totally different world, in a totally different dimension? Or was it the new phase of the war, which was ready to be fought for another century, this time on two different fronts?
"Maybe James is right," he finally said. "We have what we need."
On the monitor, they could hear her continue to speak, and Katara shook her head. "The council may not like it."
"I was elected a member of the council just last week," Zuko countered, the idea of democratic process vague to him, but not completely alien. "They might not like it, but most are doing reconnaissance and helping out with resistance in this world and ours. I'm the only one right now who can make such a call." He shook his head. "We have enough info right now. Listen, she's calling for the people to rename the city after my great grandfather."
"New Sozen," James hissed with bitter distaste in his mouth.
"Brent, you and the others…," Zuko began to spoke, when a loud pop was heard in the background, and people began screaming.
"Brent, Brent, what the fuck has happened?" James screamed.
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Had he not seen it with his own eyes, Brent would never believe it. Someone dressed totally in black somehow managed to slip past security, and was up by the balcony, pulling out his gun and firing it at Azula. "Death to the Fire Nation," he screamed. "Sic Semper Tyrannus!"
"What does that mean?" Toph asked, looking at the elderly man.
"Thus ever be it done to tyrants," its from a language they call Latin. The area just south of here, that they call Virginia, use it as their motto."
Azula managed to dodge the bullet, and her security managed to arrive on the scene to shot the attacker, but not before jumping from the balcony, ala John Wilkes Booth style, and take off running. It was hard for Brent and Josh to push their way out, especially since they knew the crowd would soon be boxed in, to find any more resistance members if there were any, but both were professional at what they did, though he was slow, and Josh was very noticeable, Brent and his partner managed to get out, and hook up with the fifteen year old earth bending prodigy and the elderly king.
"Well that could have gone better," Boomie groaned sarcastically, as soon as they were far enough away from Washington, now New Sozen City.
"The council is going to be pissed at this," Josh sighed. Toph nodded her head.
"One thing is for certain," Brent groaned. "Things just got a lot more interesting now."
"And a hell of a lot more dangerous," the blind fifteen year old girl added.
To Be Continued…..
Okay this is kind on an experiment. I wanted to see how the readers would respond to this type of fiction, which is a mixture of sci-fi, mystery, and political intrigue. Is it going to be a smashing success? Or a failure? Reviews will tell. It'll be twenty three chapters long, each chapter nearly seven to ten pages in length. So review and let me know what you think.