A/N: Hey guys, here's the next chappie, containing the much anticipated fight between Zuko and Sokka! Seriously, the reviews I got predicting the result were amazing! Heheheh I've got a smart following. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Nope, I own nothing. Surprise!

Jiro, the Mouse:

The long stretch of moonlight casts silver dimples upon the surface of the water, trembling with the pull and stretch of the choppy waves. I glance to my right, taking full view of Singe, highlighted by the penetrating moonlight against the darkness. His spectacles grab hold of the moon's reflection, casting a viciously powerful light that causes me to wince. The grin that alights his face is almost as reflective, the white teeth standing out like some sort of odd demon, consisting of only luminous eyes and a large, grinning mouth. A slight breeze rustles through my clothing, and I shudder.

I don't know why he brought me out here. Earlier this evening, when we reached this area of open beach, he declared that 'this is the spot', sat down, and hasn't moved since. I run a thin hand through my hair, brushing comfortingly against my scalp as I plop down idly next to him. The sand rustles underneath me as I fidget, attempting to get comfortable, and I pry a rock from underneath me, feeling the coarse lines against my skin, its roughness, its hardness. I arch my hand behind my head and throw the stone, leaning backwards as I hear the satisfying plop of the rock breaking the surface of the water.

I can't figure out Singe. I've tried and I've tried, throughout this entire trip, but I just can't manage it. He seems constantly chipper and happy, and I've come to realize that the nearly constant smile that he maintains is totally natural. But that positive demeanor is utterly tainted by his dark nature, which I catch glimpses of as he speaks, which he rarely does.

He asked me what it felt like, when I stabbed that girl in the alley. When I answered that I wasn't quite sure, he pushed on the subject, and out of fear, I told him the truth. I told him about the guilt, the fear, and the horrible weight that came with understanding that I had ripped her life away. It sent shocks of dread up and down my spine when he began to laugh, then asked me whether or not I thought that there was any difference.

My instinct took over as I answered right away, of course there is. At this, his smile only grew wider and he asked me what I thought of people. I answered truthfully, that I didn't like most people, that I constantly felt swamped and overloaded by the cheerful lack of care they exerted over poor little rats like me. I told him it was realizing that which first made me slip a hand into somebody's wallet, and that I'd been doing it ever since.

His response threw me for a total loop. He said that it was obvious that people didn't care about life in general, and since they couldn't care about life, they couldn't care about death, either. The only reason that what I did was such a problem was because of fear: fear of the personal experience of the unknown, which is crazy. So, if everyone is crazy, and doesn't care about life or death, what did it matter?

I didn't have an answer. I still don't. But it didn't exactly make me feel better about anything, either.

Guilt still tugs underneath, but I'm becoming more accustomed to it, as though it has transformed from a parasite, feeding upon my internal organs, into a companion: a pet that loyally follows me around. It's easier now.

A shape comes into view: something dark and black, dug into the moonlit scene like a deep hole. My eyes peer into the scene, before I realize that the shape is in fact a warship. The iron hull, a dull, worn blackish gray bobs idly in front of the reflected water, rolling lazily to ease towards us. I begin to hear the dull hum of the engines, a buzzing noise deep within my ears, and I realize that this must have been what Singe was waiting for.

As if on cue, he stands up, tucking his hands behind his back and clasping them together in an old military stance. I can't tell if he's attempting to mock the militaristic grandeur of the warship or not, as his smile remains perfectly fixed upon his face, untouched in any direction.

A smaller beach craft pulls away from the anchored warship as we stand, watching. It bobs slowly in the water, gradually gaining size as it pulls up towards us, the oars dipping in and out of the ocean in long, smooth strokes.

As the craft finally grounds upon the beach, I am shocked at the residents within. I see soldiers, fully clad in thick, iron armor and Firebender faceplates jump out of the boat, their heavy boots splashing noisily in the water as they grab hold of the keel and pull it ashore. The sand underneath the craft groans and protests noisily as it slides home, forming a small groove in the beach as a similarly armored soldier, still sitting in the boat, stands and leaps deftly to the shore. A thrill of fear mixed with confusion runs up and down my spine as I attempt to make sense of the scene. Why are we meeting with Fire Nation soldiers?

One of the Firebenders flashes open his fist, which alights in a plume of fire that he holds against a torch. As it flares to life, I see the face of the recently disembarked man, brightened and emphasized in the flickering fire.

What immediately stands out are his eyes. They are hardened and cold, but more prevalently, very cunning: wet, beady eyes amidst a slender face that almost immediately induce a sense of inferiority within me. He seems to have a permanent smile, much like Singe, yet totally different at the same time. Whereas Singe's grin is created: consciously sprung to life by the muscles in his cheeks, this man's smile seems drawn up by the wrinkled corners of his eyes, suspended without any interaction from his face. He radiates an aura of officiousness and regality, which mixes with the trepidation and anxiety I am already feeling to make me truly fear for my life.

He glances at the soldiers standing beside him, and flicks a hand idly through the air. "Return to the ship. I will come back when the plan is ready to be fully initiated, and you will be deployed. Leave the torch planted in the ground."

A hurrah of "Yes, sir!" rebounds through the air, slightly muffled by the metallic white faceplates as the soldiers return to the beach craft, and make back for the iron warship. The remaining soldier paces towards us, his ornate armor clinking loudly as he comes to stand directly in front of Singe.

"Singe," he begins, his voice thin and reedy, yet simultaneously carrying an authority that causes me to stand up straight. "I was quite pleased to learn of your successes here. I trust that the boy beside you with the confused look upon his face is the pickpocket we discussed?"

My brows furrow slightly, emphasizing the flash of anger that stirs up within my stomach at being referred to in this manner, but I keep silent, more out of fear of what this man may be capable of than anything else.

"Oh yeah, boss," he says, the comfortable nature of his voice belaying the soldier's stance he has adopted, "Quick set of hands on this kid! Plus, he's got that killer instinct. I think he's gonna work just fine!"

My curiosity finally gets the better of me, forcing me to ask, "Who are you?". My voice comes out thin and mousy, despite my attempt to infuse it with more toughness than I currently feel. A flash of irritation darkens his features as he focuses his beady eyes upon me.

"I am Xu, the High General of the Fire Nation Loyalist Army," he says, the words measured and careful, "And you are currently in my employ. Hereby, you no longer are a pawn of the Family, but are instead a direct special operative of my army, bound to my orders upon pain of death. You will receive pay and food in a manner similar to that of my other soldiers, and you will be guaranteed a life of prosperity should our endeavor succeed. Do you understand?"

My mind reels at this information, sent spinning by the sheer surreality of the declaration. He's the High General of the Loyalist army? How am I now working for him? I haven't ever had an ounce of political fervor within me, and I've never cared one way or another for who the head of the government is. But this... this is incredible. This is serious stuff. We're talking about treason, not just murder, not just theft, but treason. My cautious nature flares up, begging me to run far away from this, but as Singe's eyes catch hold of my own, I realize that if I reply with anything but 'yes', my life will become instantly forfeit.

"Yeah, I understand," I say softly, my nervous tongue flicking against my lips.

"Good," Xu answers, then turns back to Singe, "Singe, you may now carry out the next phase of the plan. Do you fully understand what you must do?"

Singe places a warm hand upon my shoulder. I barely manage to resist the instinct to shrug it away.

"Actually," he begins, "I still don't fully understand one piece. What was the point of capturing Dai Tso? I can't for the life of me understand how that city fit in with your plans."

Xu's left eye twitches slightly, just slightly enough for me to be able to recognize it, as he replies coldly, "Dai Tso means nothing, and I have not endeavored to capture it at any point. My army is strong enough to lay it under siege and, in all likelihood, ultimately capture the city, but holding it would be futile and disastrous. Earthbenders are among some of the most powerful besiegers in the world, and taking Dai Tso would force my troops into a position they are incapable of maintaining. However, laying the city to siege has been a very effective way of holding the Avatar in a location away from here as we initiate our plans."

Singe begins to laugh, the noise thin but jovial, carrying over the slight splash of waves resonating against the beach.

"I always knew you were a clever bastard, Xu," he says, displaying absolutely no military respect, "That's why you're the general, huh? It sure makes for a hell of a good time!"

The talk goes directly above my head, just adding to the muddled fog I feel resonating deep within my skull. This is too insane to be real. It has to be a dream. Just a week ago, I was a simple pickpocket, now I'm a murderer and a spy for the Loyalists. I raise a gloved hand to my forehead, attempting to make sense of the whole mess as Xu's penetrating gaze once again grabs ahold of me.

"You, pickpocket," he snaps. I realize that he hasn't bothered to learn my name. "We have a special assignment for you to carry out immediately. We need you to steal something; something that is utterly critical to our operation."

Oh Spirits, what have I gotten myself into?

Sokka of the Water Tribe:

As he stands before me, his hawkish golden eyes ferociously grasping my own, the shimmering point of one of his large twin swords pointed at me, I realize that he is about to attack. Negotiations have failed. He won't see reason, and he's completely unreachable.

I feel my brows narrow, stemming the trickle of salty tears down the sides of my cheeks, letting the muscles of my face clench up. Fine then! As I watched him descend the banister, as I saw the fire within his eyes, I realized that the Zuko that I cared about so much had drifted away, lost in a sea of grief. This is the old Zuko, the Zuko who burned down Kyoshi village without a twinge of compunction. He will stop at nothing to sate his rage, and he will continue to kill unless I stop him first.

I'll be damned if I won't.

I've got more advantages then he thinks. When he told me that I had 'half his skill, and half his mobility', he was only half right. It's true that my mobility is an issue, but I have been wielding my sword every day since before the Day of Black Sun, all those years ago, while he set the swords aside after Aang finally beat his father. He's had two days of practice at the most to return to the level of skill that he once had, and while his complete dismantling of the Family headquarters was very impressive, it still mostly consisted of him overpowering untrained toughs with weaker weapons. And I'm not so unobservant that I missed the way he has been carrying his side.

Still, I won't underestimate him. Zuko is nothing if not an incredible fighter, and the rage that fuels him is powerful enough to make him superhumanly fast. I know his side won't trouble him too much.

I take in his swords through my peripheral vision, focusing on the gilded hilts spewing forth the lethal, large blades. They might be three feet long. About the same length of my blade. That will work nicely. Especially because I'm taller than Zuko, and have a longer reach.

I've got one chance. His swords are heavy, and take a lot of momentum to swing with lethal force, but he moves like a dancer when he holds them: damnably hard to hit, and almost always having one edge blasting forth towards his opponent. But I've got a plan that makes my lack of mobility much less of a factor. I mean, all movement aside, he still has to come to me, right?

Suddenly, he charges, a tortured, feral scream exploding from his throat. The swords glitter lethally as he tucks one behind his back and points the other at me. I ready myself, setting my weight on my uninjured leg and lowering the hilt of my sword to my waist, pointing the shimmering black point directly at Zuko as he attacks.

At the last possible second, he lunges forward, a plume of dust rising from the floor as his feet leave it. He twists through the air, again, like a dancer, and brings the off sword, still tucked behind his back, around in a vicious slash aimed for my throat. I see the arc of silver painted through the air, and despite myself, I am shocked and upset that he is so willing to kill me.

But this does not stop me from taking my chance.

I don't slash, or swing the blade, I lunge forward off of my good leg and let loose with a vicious stab, thrusting the sword with blinding speed in between his wickedly curved swords. Precious inches of length separate the lethality of my blow from his, as the tip forms a black streak reaching for him ahead of his swords reaching for me. I catch a flash of his gritted teeth as he is forced to abandon the attack, twisting away from my blade and hitting the ground, hard.

He rolls towards me as he smashes into the cold stone floor, whipping both swords around into a powerful combination slash set to disembowel me. Instinct takes over as the suddenness of the attack catches me by surprise, pulling me to the side as I avoid the first cut. I manage to take over the animal nature commanding me to flee, and force my sword downwards, towards Zuko's exposed back.

He only just catches my bold attack, which I took in spite the lack of defense it offered against his second blade, and abandons the maneuver, slamming his feet to the floor and pushing himself up and away from my strike. I read the rage and shock in his face as he lands a safe distance away from me, his animal eyes glittering as they look upon me. Damn. He's not going to underestimate me now. I was hoping I would be quick enough with that first thrust to at least cut him, but he was just too fast.

However, I know what his next move is going to be, even before he makes it, and I am ready.

The clatter of his feet pounding against the ground as he charges me again is thunderous, echoing and rumbling throughout the room like the deafening roar of an avalanche. His twin blades once again glimmer sharply as he begins to twist and swing them around, and once again, I thrust in between the striking blades, using the slight reach advantage to force him to abandon the attack.

He thinks that what he does next is clever, and I can see from the triumphant smirk on his face that my prediction proved accurate.

Instead of totally abandoning the attack, he ducks under the thrust, his speed nearly superhuman as he brings himself inside of the reach of my blade. I can feel the musty heat of his breath on his face as he swings his free sword at my side, the whistling song of the blade screaming its triumph into my ears.

But my boomerang is already in my hand, the free end twisting to stop his strike. There is a sudden sharp clang of steel on steel as his short swing is stopped dead by the bent boomerang, culminating in an expression of shock and surprise scrawled across his face. I bring my skull forward in a vicious headbutt that sends him reeling as I twist the boomerang out of the grip of his blocked sword and swing it like a bludgeon. There is a dull, meaty thump as it cracks against his cheekbone, snapping his head sideways as I bring my jian around for the death strike.

However, he somehow manages to stay conscious and lucid despite the crushing blow to his face, and throws himself away from my sword before it can reach him, emitting a slight red spray of blood as he backflips away from me. I grit my teeth in anger as he gets away, resolving not to let the chance go by as I use the momentum of my swing to sling the boomerang at him with all my might. It whirls through the air, emitting a whistling noise not unlike that of Zuko's blades, reaching him just as he manages to right himself. I see, as if in slow motion, his eyes catch the shrieking blue steel whirring towards him, and feel a twinge of frustration as he allows himself to fall flat on his back, barely but fully dodging the flying projectile as it arcs on a return journey to me. I catch the boomerang with my free hand, feeling the dull, solid impact through the glove as I watch Zuko once again rise to his feet.

I allow the tinge of a snarl crawl across my lips as he locks eyes with me once again. He's seen now that I can beat his normal fighting style. This might cause him to try something less orthodox, which is dangerous, both for me and for him. I don't like dealing with risks like this.

I see the blood dribbling from his cheekbone where the boomerang caught him as his face contorts into a mask of pure rage. His back arches as he screams out his frustration, the swords dangling from his hands like a freakish third joint on his arms as the noise reverberates across the room. I feel the muscles between my eyes clench together as I realize that he's about to try something reckless and, worse still, unpredictable.

I ready my jian, allowing my muscle memory to pull me into the attack stance that I developed to lower the consequences of my limp as he similarly readies himself. The charge is odd, and I feel a cold thrill of fear as I attempt to figure it out. He trails his left hand behind him, just out of view, sparks licking and arcing through the air as he drags the point of his sword against the ground. He points his right weapon directly at me as he charges, and I tense my left leg up, ready to counter that back blade should he decide to swing it.

However, before he reaches me, he bounds upwards, the corded muscles of his legs tightening as he jumps. I realize that he is going to jump behind me, counting on his ability to swing the sword faster than I can flip around and counter, but I am already twisting around, beginning with the thrust as soon as he bounds through the air.

Then, my eye catches something, and the twinge of fear culminates into sheer terror.

One of his swords, lying uselessly upon the stone floor, twenty feet away from me. And if the sparks that were flying from the ground weren't caused by the point of his sword dragging against it, then that means...

Oh, damn it!

I look up and see him, directly above me, as I tighten both my good and bad leg and throw myself out of the way, knowing what I am about to see even before I see it. The golden red plume of fire, flaring noisily leaves his unburdened fist as he arcs over me, exploding ferociously against the ground. The clever bastard! He realized that by jumping over me, he could use his Firebending downward, against the stone floor, where it wouldn't have a chance of lighting the the mansion on fire! I feel the simmering heat against my face as I only just manage to fling myself away from the blast, barely out of harm's way.

But I see him already charging for me, and I realize that it's all over.

Off balance, I struggle to find the point to place my bad leg underneath me, to keep myself upright, swinging wildly at Zuko with the jian as I attempt to re-ready myself. The blade whistles through the air as I slash vaguely at Zuko's form, but when I seem him easily twist around the sword, and see the horribly beautiful arc of silver steel through the air, all I can do is brace myself for impact.

I feel the rendering, awful slice of flesh as the deadly arc traces through my lower side, turning the silver sheen into an awful red spray. I feel the muscles of my right arm suddenly melt into rubber, allowing the jian to fall uselessly from the limp fingers and clatter noisily against the ground as I collapse in a similar manner.

The pain is all of my senses. I've heard from wounded soldiers about the unimaginable hurt caused from gut wounds, but feeling it for myself turns their words into noisy air, utterly without meaning. The stinging, throbbing mass of intensity runs through my nervous system with all of the force of a charging Kunagi, forcing the incredible pain into the tips of my fingers and toes, in my nostrils and lungs, tasting it on the tip of my tongue, hearing it deep within my ears.

I look down and see the deep red oozing slowly from the horrible wound, soaking my blue clothing and dripping down towards my legs. I realize that I am screaming, the sound resonating distantly, as though caused by some sort of foreign animal, utterly feral and barbaric.

I feel more than hear Zuko's footsteps as he approaches from behind me; the scream begins to fade, and my body begins to accustom itself to the grinding wound in my stomach. My still working left hand snatches the boomerang from the ground as I throw myself backwards, screaming once again as I swing the weapon with all my might. Dread and dismay run through my chest as his outstretched hand grasps firmly upon my wrist, wrenching it cruelly downwards and forcing it to the ground.

I scream once more as his raised foot smashes down upon the hand; horrible organic, bony pops and crackles drown out the volume of my voice and sending a vehement pang of nausea deep within my stomach. I feel a hand grasp roughly against my collar and see the world shift jarringly around me as I am wrenched upward roughly, my toes tapping uselessly against the ground, all my strength gone.

I see the hatred upon Zuko's face, the tightened muscles around the hawkish amber eyes, the bestial bared teeth, the reddish puckered flesh of his scar that seems to swallow the rest of his face. The point of his sword presses into my chin as the images fade, and I begin to see something else.

I see my sister's face, blue eyes that match my own, tanned skin the evidence of our bond. You smiles at me, and I feel a rush of fraternal affection for you. I know that I never had to say anything, that you understood, and I was always grateful for that. I hope that you're doing well, but I know you, and I know how resilient your positivity is, and I know that no matter what happens, you'll be fine.

I see the kid's face, see his hopeful grin and the trademark blue of his arrow tattoo arcing down over his forehead. He might be the most powerful person on the face of the earth, but I'll always know him as the young boy who loved a good joke and whose positive outlook on human nature couldn't be shaken, no matter how horrible the things that he saw were. Aang, you made me a better person, and I hope that you know that.

Toph... The impish smile that never failed to send streaks of warmth through me, the milky pale eyes that saw nothing and yet saw everything, the softness of her skin, the tender understanding offered by her lips, the violent release offered by her clenched fist. I'm glad that I told you that I loved you, before I left. You deserved to hear it again, to know the hold that you had over me, the right to my affection that you possessed. I would have done anything for you.

I'm sorry... I'm sorry that I went and did this. You were right, it was too risky, and what's worse is that I'm not the only one who will have to pay the consequences. Katara, Aang, Toph... I don't want them to be hurt, but my own overconfidence got me here, and there's nothing more I can do at this point. Zuko will be forever scarred by this, and the rage and anger I once felt have dissipated into pity and compassion. I don't want this to kill him. I want him to turn around, to come back to the Zuko that was such a good human being.

Reality plunges back into startling clarity, plunging through my thoughts and returning me to the image of Zuko, the point of his sword pressed against my throat, the awful pain reaching up through my stomach and hand, grasping a hold of my heart and lungs. Somehow, I manage to force a slight smile to my lips as I stare into Zuko's eyes, forcing my exhausted vocal cords to work.

"Are you really ready for this, Zuko?" I ask, my voice sounding raspy and forced, as though coming from someone else. It's difficult to talk around the point of the sword, pressed against my throat, but I chance it anyways. "Are you ok with becoming the monster that you used to be? Taking the life of one of your old friends without the slightest compunction?"

His gaze falters somewhat, but I feel the metallic point of the sword still digging into my skin, and I continue.

"We loved you, Zuko," I say, and the tears spring back to life in my eyes, "All of us, unconditionally. You were one of us! Our compatriot, who knew us like no one else could! I'm sorry about her... really I am, and I want to help you, but not like this. Are you really willing to throw away the person that you were?"

My breath comes in ragged gasps as he lowers the point of the sword away from my throat, releasing my windpipe and allowing the breath to come back through. I see his gilded eyes, the hawkishness seeming to have dissipated as he looks away from me, his mouth curled into a frown without malice.

His hand lets go of my collar and I collapse back to the ground, all the strength gone from my muscles, watching him as he turns away.

"Not quite yet," he answers solemnly, the words held in a whisper so raspy and quiet that I almost can't make them out.

"Sokka, please, stay out of my way. All of you. You aren't my enemy, and I have no desire to kill you, but I will if I have to."

Once again, the world begins to fade and dissipate, but this time, blackness is all that greets me.

Toph Bei Fong:

My dad's heartbeat has an air of triumph to it that puts me on edge almost as soon as I feel the floor make the transition from the rough stone used in the rest of the castle to the cold, smooth marble of the Council room. I can feel a slight smile alight his face as he stands at the podium, addressing the council sitting in wooden balconies above that I can't make out. A sigh escapes my lips as I attempt to quell the swirl of emotion that spins violently in my chest. I'm terrified of what might happen here today, and I'm even more worried about Sokka confronting Zuko alone. It's hard to pull my mind away from him right now, and I utter yet another silent prayer that everything will turn out alright.

There is almost total silence as I pace across the floor, the meaty slaps of my bare feet against the marble providing the only vibrations against it that I can use to feel my surroundings.

"There, Toph, if you would please have a seat in this chair."

The voice comes from my father, officious yet warm, carrying that odd form of over-protectiveness that he substitutes for paternal affection. I ascend the steps, and, careful to avoid using his help in any way that could possibly belay a weakness, I sit in the chair, feeling the vibrations of the room through my feet, firmly planted on the ground. I will not be taken by surprise.

"Miss Bei Fong, do you know why we have brought you here?" The voice comes from above, carrying that self-important, blustering pomp that I can instantly associate with Councilman Wong. I allow a slight smirk to come to my face as I answer.

"No, Councilman Wong, I do not."

There. The use of his name should help to prove that my abilities are not hampered by my lack of eyesight. I'm almost sure that my blindness will relate in some way to what my father is trying to accomplish, so it is better if I start working towards disproving any accusations against me here, at the beginning.

I hear his cough echo distantly across the room, reverberating against the wall and allowing me to better place the locations of people up in the Council seats above.

"We have brought you hear to consider your candidacy for a promotion of sorts," he says, the words sparking a twinge of confusion deep in the center of my stomach.

"Forgive me, Councilman," I say, filling my voice with all of the regal pomp that is expected of people in this walk of life, "But I do not recall submitting my name for the candidacy of any position. Perhaps you could clarify?"

"Certainly," he continues, "You are correct in that you have not submitted your name regarding any candidacy, but you have been considered all the same because of your extraordinary qualifications regarding it."

Oh, boy. Here it comes, they're already talking about putting me in positions without me having any input whatsoever. I brace myself for the news, praying inwardly that I will have some outlet or ability to fight against it.

"Ambassador Bei Fong, your father, has informed the Council that, at this point, the Earth Kingdom is not inclined to provide the Fire Nation with any direct aid. However, he has correctly asserted that we have no ambassadors within the Earth Kingdom that are familiar with the culture there. He has offered us with the solution of granting an Earth Kingdom resident of the Fire Nation who is familiar with our economic and political needs at this time the position of Fire Nation ambassador, and immediately sending him or her to the Earth Kingdom, where Ambassador Bei Fong suggests that the Earth Kingdom will be more inclined to hear and bequeath our request. We have brought you forward today to hear your thoughts upon the position, as Councilman Tsung has submitted that your personal input could be invaluable to the situation."

I can feel my heart stop in my chest. So this is his plan! He thinks he can force me to become an ambassador and come back with him, where he can sink his claws into me and keep me where he feels I am safest! I direct my Earth sensitivity to him, reading his triumphant grin, his hands clasped officiously behind his back, holding himself up at full height and feeling loathing, intense and furious, deep within my chest. How dare you! You bastard, you can't just come and talk to me, hear my end of things, have my input, you have to sneak around through government back alleys to have me politically kidnapped? To hell with this!

I take a deep breath, attempting to quell the anger that I feel, centering myself and trying to become calm. If the Council ultimately rules in my dad's favor, I'll have to go back with him. If I refuse the position, they'll fire me from the Enforcers, which, since I only have a working visa here within the Fire Nation, will cause the government to deport me back to the Earth Kingdom anyway. Away from Sokka, away from the Family, away from where I'm needed the most. And all to sate my Dad's stupid hyper-protective nature!

I manage to force most of the anger into my stomach before speaking again.

"With submission, Council," I begin, standing up straight and arching my back in the politically correct way for a politician to stand, "I feel that this idea may not hold the merit that my father believes that it does. While the idea of having an ambassador in the Earth Kingdom who is familiar with Earth Kingdom royal culture could be advantageous, my attainment of the position would, I fear, be a grave mistake, for several reasons."

"First and foremost, I fear that I am quite out of touch with Earth Kingdom royal culture as a whole. While it is true that I am from the Earth Kingdom by birth, and that I was born into a quite influential and high class family, it bears mentioning that I left and renounced my connection to the royal culture when I was twelve years old. In the years that have followed, I have had next to no interaction with the royalty of the Earth Kingdom; certainly not enough to have re-integrated myself within the culture. For this reason, I fear that I may do more harm than good."

"Another, perhaps equally important reason, has to do with my current status of employ within the Fire Nation. I would not begin to hope that my understanding of the crises facing the Fire Nation surpasses that of the Council, but I would remind the Councilmen that one of the most glaring roots of the economic crisis that the Fire Nation is currently in has to do with the sudden influx of organized crime. My current employ as a member of the Enforcers has led to grand results in dissipating organized crime activity within the Nation as a whole, as my Earthbending skills, which are far greater then my political ones, have proven to be a critical factor in many engagements that the Enforcers have run into over the past several months."

"Overall, my humble suggestion, since it appears that the Bei Fongs are quite sympathetic to our cause as a whole, would be to send with them a Fire Nation natural resident, where they could aid him in his cause to procure funds for us in this time of need."

With this said, I sit back down, feeling the cushion take me in as my jaw, sore from all the talking, snaps thankfully closed. That was good, and I felt good about it. I proposed two big flaws with their plan, and offered a perfectly good resolution that will at least warrant debate. I feel a bit of fluster form in my father's cheeks, and a rush of pride flows through me. Much as I loath you right now, I did inherit your political instinct. I won't submit to you without a fight, Dad, and you'll find that I'm much tougher than you remember.

Murmuring takes place throughout the Council, slow at first, then spreading into a wildfire before Councilman Wong coughs again, silencing the remainder of them.

"Ambassador Bei Fong, you are entitled to a rebuttal, should you so desire it," he says, "If you choose to take the opportunity, we will put the matter to a vote thereafter."

Oh no. A quick vote? That could be devastating! A knot of fear grips my spine cruelly, emphasizing the anxiety about Sokka that already has taken me over as Dad stands up to take the podium.

"With submission, Council, I would like a chance to rebut," he begins, and upon hearing the pomp that he forces into his words, and the steadiness of his heartbeat, I know that I am in trouble.

"My daughter, by virtue of having spent twelve years in direct contact with royal Earth Kingdom culture, will be quite easy to integrate back in, especially considering her near-celebrity status there. This will prove to be a far more expedient and efficient enterprise then attempting to aid a Fire Nation Ambassador with little to no experience with our royal culture."

Surely this isn't all he has. Efficiency has nothing to do with anything, and he knows it! No one on the Council is going to buy that at face value. What else is there for him to exploit?

"As to my daughter's second point, well, to be honest, the status of this Enforcer police squad has frankly perturbed me somewhat," he says, taking on a fake tone of concern that defies the victorious rhythmic patterns of his heart, "As I understand it, while the Enforcer squad has been useful in curbing somewhat the rise of organized crime within the Fire Nation, even after several months, it has utterly failed to expose even one major member of the crime syndicate known as the Family."

He pauses here, and as I feel the smile spread across his face, I realize what he is about to say, yet am completely baffled by the lack of compunction that he feels in saying it.

"In addition, I would point to the recent attack upon the suspected Family house in your central district, which involved twenty men slaughtered at swordpoint. While I would never make an unwarranted accusation against anyone, I must state that the illegality of sword ownership within the Fire Nation makes me quite afraid for what your Enforcer squad is capable of. In the Earth Kingdom, these matters are pursued far more thoroughly, and any corruption within the squad that could have caused this heinous, indefensible slaughter would be rooted out and punished immediately."

"Ambassador," the voice is clear and level, which allows me to immediately identify it as Tsung's, coming to my rescue. "I would remind you that it is beyond your power to levy an accusation at this Council. Our police force is currently investigating the matter, and your position in front of us today does not involve pointing a finger at anyone."

It's true, and I'm grateful for it, but it's too late. The Council will be thinking about it as they vote, which will influence their decision greatly. But what really shocks me, what completely baffles me, is that I feel the vibrations emanating from my father's heart through the floor, and detect no dishonesty whatsoever. My dad honestly believes, deep in his warped sense of reality, that Sokka is behind the slaughter there. He met him, spoke to him, and still believes that Sokka could wantonly butcher twenty people.

I am rendered speechless as I retreat into the cushion of the chair, drooping my head slightly as I try to come to grips with that, and with what may happen here, before I hear Tsung's voice carry over the Council room, silencing the murmuring that has spread like a plague.

"Gentlemen," he begins, "I would suggest that we put this matter to more debate, and refrain from voting at this time. Stemming the economic crisis is a task that requires the utmost amount of thought, and I greatly fear making a fatal mistake out of haste in this instance. We still have several days before the next ship bound to the Earth Kingdom is scheduled to leave, which gives us plenty of time to more thoroughly discuss the matter."

That's a good move. It'll give time for tempers to cool, and may even allow us to somehow prove our innocence in the attack on the Family house. A bit of relief stabs into the overwhelming worry that plagues me as I hear a general consensus spread across the room. Councilman Wong's voice suddenly stabs into the hum of voices as he says, "Very well. We will keep this matter on the docket for discussion, and will vote again before the next ship bound for the Earth Kingdom leaves. Ambassador Bei Fong, Miss Bei Fong, you are hereby dismissed."

I immediately rise from the chair, and begin to walk for the door, not wanting to have any contact with my father at this point. To my dismay, I feel him approach behind me, and lay a hand upon my shoulder. It takes all of my self control not to brush it off, and only slightly less not to let loose with some passionate, angry Earthbending.

"Toph," he says, his voice rife with what I'm sure he believes is paternal affection, "You will be coming home with me in the next several days. I want you to know that I am very happy at the prospect, and though I can tell that you dislike the idea very much, it is ultimately best for you. Home, with me and your mother, is where you belong. I know you'll come to understand that."

This stupid assertion piques more rage from within me, and as I am about to turn and straighten him out, both verbally and physically, I feel the presence of a soldier, running through the outside hall to meet me at the door. I feel his heartbeat emanate between his footfalls as he sprints, feel the nature of the fear and worry that grips him, and as he rips the door open, all I can feel is dread. I know what he is going to say, even before he says it.

"Miss Bei Fong! Sokka is hurt, bad!"

A/N: Well, there it is! And I've got to know, did the fight live up to y'all's expectations? I sure hope so, considering the awesome feedback I got last time.

Also, the plan of the Bei Fong family is revealed! Nasty, isn't it?

Well, that's really all I've got this time. So hey, if you read the story and liked it so far, why not giving that little green review button a click? We authors feed off of them!

Keep reading!

Superbleh11