Chapter Notes: Sorry this is late! Zuko's life: so hard. Even in space.
Chapter Three
The boy's name is Aang; Zuko finds that out from Uncle Iroh. But the captain told them it might take a full week for them to reach the station where they'd be hitching a ride, and Zuko can't just follow the guy around the whole time waiting for him to touch a console again.
"You have not touched your laser swords in months," Uncle points out gently. He is engaged in a quiet game of pai sho against himself, with his favorite teacup by his knee, steaming gently. "It would not be a bad time to practice."
Zuko stops pacing and scowls down at him. "I know," he says, "I know; if I'm ever going to be as good as Azula, I can't afford to get lazy."
Uncle Iroh sets a stone down on his unfolded board, and then looks up. "In some ways, nephew," he says, "I think you already are ahead of Azula."
Zuko stares at him, confused. He's never beaten Azula at anything; Uncle knows that.
Uncle just looks at him for a long moment, and then sighs a little, and lowers his gaze back to the board. "But it's true; Azula is certainly a formidable opponent. And you should not let yourself get out of practice."
"And who am I going to fight?" Zuko says. "The air in the hold?"
"Suki," Uncle suggests. "The security officer. That was a complex exercise she did for us with the fans, at supper. Perhaps she would spar with you."
"There's only five people on the crew, Uncle, can you really call any of them officers?" Zuko says scornfully, to cover up the fact that the rest of Uncle's idea actually makes sense.
In the end, it's easier than he expected - he doesn't have to barge into her quarters or go searching for her on the lower decks. When he goes looking, it only takes about two minutes to find her, because as soon as he reaches the catwalk leading forward, he can see that the lights are on in the long, flat room over the hold.
There's a short ladder to the side, rungs riveted to the wall next to the door into the hold, and it takes only a moment to climb up. He wonders whether it was already a practice room, or whether she set it up herself; but either way, the floor is made of thin boards over the original metal grate, done the same way the kitchen is, and there are long thin mats over that. She's in the middle, doing something quick and whirling, fans deactivating with a flick of the thumb as she swings them close, and humming to life again when she curves her wrists away. Uncle was right, she is skilled - Zuko's only been watching for a few seconds, and he's already seen a dozen moments when she might have seared herself if she had been an instant slower deactivating a fan blade.
She looks right at him at least once, but doesn't stop right away, finishing the full sequence before she slows and thumbs the fans away. "Something you need?"
"I - was wondering if you wouldn't mind-" He pauses, not sure how to ask, and then thinks he might as well keep it simple, and switches his own blades on, yellow light buzzing out in the shape of swords.
He's afraid she's going to just stand there looking at him and force him to actually make the request; but she doesn't. She grins instead, and lifts her fan handles. "Sure thing," she says. "Jet's a fan of shock hooks; I haven't fought laser swords in a long time." She stops for a second, and her face goes smooth. "Confederation," she says.
Zuko glances down at his sword hilts, both stamped with the stylized flame seal of the Galactic Confederation of United Systems. "Black market laser swords usually aren't worth the money," he says, because there's no way he's handing over the real answer to her non-question.
Suki feels her jaw relax. "True enough," she says, because it is. She's heard horror stories about the kind of stuff people have ended up with when they try to sidestep Confederation monopolies, laser pistols that explode while they're charging and swords with miscalibrated blades that take off hands. "And I suppose technically I stole these when I left my unit, so I can't really point fingers." She tips her fan handles sideways, so he can see the matching stamps they bear.
"You're Confederation military?" Zuko says, startled.
"Not anymore," Suki says, trying to keep her tone from going as icy as it wants to. "Recruited from Kyoshi, but I ... decided I didn't care for the way they conducted themselves." She switches both fans on, because she'd rather this conversation got cut a little short. "Ready?"
Zuko just stares at her for a moment, mouth open, and she's not sure why; but before she can ask, he visibly remembers himself, snaps his jaw shut and raises his swords. "Yes."
They slow after about half an hour; Suki's starting to get thirsty, and she's guessing it's been long enough since the last time Zuko fought anyone that it's taking him some time to reach his second wind. "Okay," she says at last, ducking under a sharp slash, "break time," and gets in one more block before she breaks away from him and shuts her fans off.
She's about to ask him whether he wants water, too, when she's interrupted by a storm of clapping.
"That was great," Aang says from the end of the ladder, hopping up to the floor of the practice room with wide eyes. "You're really good with those."
He already knows she can handle her fans well, and he's looking at Zuko, but it still takes Zuko a second to catch on, eyes darting back and forth between the two of them like he can't figure out why nobody's talking. "... Thank you?" he tries at last, and Suki can't stop a chuckle from escaping.
"Very graceful," she says teasingly, heading toward the ladder down. "You'd think you'd never gotten a compliment before in your life. Want some water?"
There's no answer for a moment, so she looks back over her shoulder: Zuko is staring at her, brow faintly wrinkled, like he doesn't quite understand the question. But then he blinks, and nods his head shortly. "Yes, that would be - yes."
"Then I'll bring the pitcher," Suki says, and does a flip down to the catwalk instead of using the ladder, just for the fun of it.
"Seriously," Aang repeats, "really good. How long have you been using those?"
"Since before I can remember," Zuko says. It comes out sort of brusque, but Aang's not going to hold it against him. Some people just aren't talkative. Aang got stuck doing a job with Jet once; by the end of that one, the sound of his voice was starting to annoy even him a little bit.
"Not those exact ones, though, right?" Aang says, laughing a little at the thought of a toddler Zuko trying to handle two three-foot laser swords.
Zuko stares at him.
"I mean, because they'd have been a little long when you were a kid?" Aang tries.
Zuko glances down at them - the hilts, that is, because he's already switched the blades off - and then back at Aang, with a vaguely dubious air. "I suppose," he says.
Make better jokes, Aang notes to himself, and then glances at Zuko's face, the wary slant to his gaze accentuated by the scar around his eye. Actually: don't make jokes at all.
"So," Aang says. "How'd you end up here?"
Zuko eyes him. "I might ask you the same question."
"You might," Aang agrees. "Wouldn't get much of a story, though. It's my ship, actually - I crashed it on the moon where Katara and Sokka used to live. By mistake, really, but it worked out great for me." He grins. "So now Katara's the captain, and I help out."
"It's your ship, and she's the captain?" Zuko says, sounding bewildered. "But why would you-" He cuts himself off, like he's not quite sure how to say what he's trying to ask.
Aang shrugs. "She's better at captaining than I am," he says honestly. "No point in insisting that it be me when I'm not much good at it. I mean, I could do it if I had to." He takes a moment to imagine what it would be like, and frowns. "But I don't think I would enjoy it very much."
Zuko looks uncertain, so Aang steers the conversation back to its original course.
"Anyway, what about you?"
Zuko hesitates. "I - couldn't be at home anymore," he says, "I needed to go."
"Me too," Aang says. "That's why I left Lho Rlung - I needed to go, to see other places," and he can't help smiling at Zuko. It's nice to find out that somebody understands you.
Aang beams up at him, and Zuko can't help wishing these people would quit smiling at him all the time. It's almost cruel, when they can't really like him even if they want to, because they don't know him - when they wouldn't want to like him, if they did.
It's a relief when Suki comes back, balancing the heavy pitcher neatly on her head with one hand so the other's still free to climb the ladder, because it means that soon he can start fighting again, instead of talking.