Sokka ignored the hot tears welling up in his eyes and stalked to his burning ship, staring at it a moment in blank despair before gazing up at the figure of the retreating pirate ship.
"Seriously?" he yelled, pounding a fist against the side of his boat as a tear trailed lazily down his cheek. He couldn't put the fire out and without his ship... Katara...
A small voice sounded behind him. "T-tishen, l-let us h-help"
Sokka turned, rubbing the tear away with the palm of his hand. Men didn't cry, chiefs didn't cry. Behind him, Arnak and a handful of the waterbending children, all different ages, from five to eleven, stood meekly.
He nodded to them and they went to work, clumsily bending water to put the fire out. Sokka watched for a moment before, assured that they would put it out safely, stalking away. There were preparations to be made.
None of the tribe spoke to him, some were crying, others tending to those wounded in the raid. He felt their eyes on him though, as he walked determinedly towards the supply tent.
Food and water. Weapons he had plenty, and he already had ammunition for his sole canon loaded up. Sokka stalked into the supply tent. Thank the spirits that fireball hadn't hit his ammunition. Sokka grabbed a supply sack and started stuffing it with dried tigerseal meat strips. When he finished filling that sack, he tied it off and grabbed a medium freshwater barrel. He already had a decent stock on his ship, and this one would replace the one he'd been going through for the past week.
"Tishen Sokka?"
He turned. Arnak was standing half in the door, clutching the sealhide doorflap as though he was afraid Sokka's gaze might push him back out.
"... What is it Arnak?" he said after a moment, turning back to packing another bag with as much meat as he could fit.
Sokka heard the boy shift behind him. "A-are you leaving?
He hesitated, then shouldered his bags, tucking the water barrel under his arm. "I need to rescue my sister, Arnak," he said evenly, trying to keep his voice as level as possible. He walked out the supply tent, causing Arknak to jump back and start shadowing him as he stalked towards his ship.
Which was thankfully no longer on fire.
The villagers were starting to recover from the shock of the attack, repairing their homes and helping the wounded. He could see Hanal, their elderly healer and only trained waterbender besides Katara, working on healing Bato. Sokka cast another glance around before walking over to them.
The elderly woman looked up. She wasn't trained for combat, and was too timid and womanly for it anyway. "T-tishen Sokka, he has suffered serious burns on his arm, layered on the ones he suffered previously," she said, voice trembling slightly as she addressed him.
Sokka set his supplies down and crouched by his dad's best friend. Even though Bato's face was averted from his gaze, Sokka could tell his jaw was clenched in pain. The costume he'd donned in preparation for the solstice festival looked sickeningly celebratory on his burned body.
Sokka reached out and gently laid his hand over the older man's. The shame in Bato's face mirrored that which Sokka felt. Hakoda had left the tribe to their protection, asking Bato to remain behind and act as Sokka's mentor and rest his wounds. Sokka's voice cracked as he spoke.
"I'm sorry Bato."
The man was silent a moment before turning to meet his eyes. He managed a thin smile as he replied, "There is nothing to forgive, Sokka."
Sokka nearly lost his nerve as the man turned his hand and weakly gripped Sokka's for a moment. He swallowed hard and recalled the image of Katara being dragged into the pirate ship. He needed to do this.
He shifted his weight and laid his other hand on Bato's forehead, ignoring the older man's questioning gaze. "Bato, Son of the Southern Water Tribes, I impart to you the burden of the chiefdom of our village. Hakoda, our born chief, is absent and named me Tishen in his place." Sokka drew a deep breath. "It is with this authority that I now name you Tishen."
Sokka heard several gasps in the background and a good share of murmurs. He ignored them and continued, "My loyalty now lies to you, Tishen Bato."
He rose and bowed, not waiting for a response from the wounded man before picking his supplies back up. The crowd automatically stepped aside, clearing the way to his ship. He shifted the weight of the bags on his shoulder and walked towards his ship.
A diminutive figure stood in front of the deck, the only villager not aiding in rebuilding or tending to the wounded (or crowding around to listen to him talking to Bato).
Sokka bit his lip and gripped the water barrel tighter, suddenly wishing that he'd grabbed something stronger to drink. He stopped in front of the deck and cleared his throat before addressing his grandmother.
"Please stand aside, Grangran."
"Sokka, you cannot leave."
x x x
"Lieutenant Rou Li, of Monk Gyatso reporting," he stated, voice sounding harsh to his own ears, "on the pirates encountered five leagues northeast of the settlement Yanatsya."
"Continue," the Monk Raiyan said. Rou Li glared at the floor. He could barely contain the anger boiling in his stomach.
"It was the midpoint of the fourteenth hour when I spotted a pirate ship headed towards the settlement. I radioed Aang and we approached the ship."
"Did you," Monk Yabiz interrupted, "follow all the proper procedures for engaging a suspected aggressor?"
Rou Li grit his teeth. "Yes," he spat, making little effort to contain his derision now, "we did. Aang was about to radio them on the common frequency when they launched a flaming canonball at our ship.
"Which," he added, "demonstrates a probable intent of violence. In accordance with ordinance seven, subsection three."
Monk Yabiz, who had opened his mouth to interrupt again, shut it and Rou Li continued.
"We engaged with perfect propriety," he said, placing a certain emphasis on the last word, "firing only to disable the canons and planes on deck on our first pass. One plane took off and Aang ordered me to engage it."
"And did you follow all the-"
"Yes! I did, Monk Yabiz. I fired only to disable, eventually hitting the plane, causing the pilot to jump out of his plane. His parachute was fished up by the pirates, and the man was recovered without loss of life."
He could see a few nods, but a certain level of skepticism in the eyes of some. He'd been called before the council before for breaking code, and he was sure his defiant full head of black hair didn't endear himself to them. He shifted the set of his sling before the council leader spoke.
"You may continue, lieutenant, but keep in mind to whom you speak and the respect to them owed."
"Yes, Monk Raiyan," he all but mumbled before continuing, "Aang did another pass, taking out another plane, but the captain of the ship shoved one of her men in front of the second to last plane, then the final one. Aang didn't shoot and one of the planes took off. He engaged that one while I shot down the first. I was flying by for another pass on deck when I saw the pirate captain taking off in the last plane. I radioed Aang, then we switched targets. I took down the plane he was fighting and he engaged the captain."
Rou Li skimmed over the fact that he'd gotten frustrated and hadn't shot to disable that last plane. Thankfully, the council didn't seem to be in the mood to interrupt him at the moment. Gyatso didn't meet his gaze.
"He... he tried luring the captain away from the settlement," Rou Li continued, voice becoming thick again, "and I harassed the plane, disabling the canons and causing superficial damages. Exactly according to the code.
"No pirates were killed by my assault, and the ship started to turn around. I followed it, still landing slight damages, until the captain flew back. She immediately engaged me, causing some negligible damages to my plane and shooting me in the arm. I kept looking northwest for Aang and she noticed. Then she radioed over the common frequency that my, "little friend was dead," and asked if I'd like to join him in the ocean."
Rou Li grit his teeth. After that he'd ignored the pain in his arm and tried to kill her. It only became more frustrating when she evaded his shots, even laughing in his face and taunting him over the radio. He'd never forget the look in her eyes as she smirked at him and drawled about how Aang had nearly made it before a wave overwhelmed him and his glider.
"The ship seemed to be on the verge of turning around to attack Yanatsya when the Yang Ro's patrol arrived and drove the pirates off. The captain landed safely on her ship."
The council was silent now, though Raiyan and several other monks were looking at Gyatso in concern.
Monk Yabiz broke the silence.
"That second plane you took out, was it a disabling shot, according to code?"
Something snapped.
"Aang is dead!" he yelled, all propriety gone as he ripped his goggles off his neck and threw them to floor. One of the lenses shattered into a thousand pieces as he felt hot tears well up.
"My brother is dead! Monk Gyatso's own son! And you're asking if the bastards who shot him out of the sky lived? They all deserve to die! All of those pirates! The sky is ours and they should be shot down, their ships and planes burned by their own fires!"
He could hear gasps and murmurs from the lesser monks in attendance to the council's hearing, but his case was beyond rescuing at this point. He couldn't take this back, so he might as well make sure he was heard.
He glowered at Monk Yabiz. "You hypocrites! All you skinheads care about is keeping to the ancient code. Valuing life. Well let me ask you then, what is the value of Aang's life? He was raised here in the temple same as me, an orphan with no home to speak of. In return, we choose to serve and protect our people. He dies and do you care? You want to know if the pirates who took the sky away from him, who would kill all of us without a second thought, lived?"
He spat at Yabiz' feet. "You have the ground before you swept, lest you harm an insect, but you take for granted those who die so you can do so. What is the value of Aang's life? He loved your rules, your precious code. Now he's dead because of your rules! If it wasn't because you valued the lives of those who oppose you more than you value the life of your own pilots, he would be here!"
He took a shuddering breath and scratched away the tears on his face with his good arm. Behind him, the murmurs had stopped, bathing the audience hall in silence.
Monk Raiban spoke quietly, but his voice dominated the hall, echoing off the walls ominously. "Rou Li of Gyatso, you have been brought before the council before for breaches of code. Today already you have been warned to demonstrate proper respect and awareness of whom you're addressing. Effective immediately, you are discharged from the Air Corps. Your rank and the privileges with it are revoked." Monk Raiban paused a moment. "You are grounded for life. If you are found operating an airplane or artificial flying vehicle of any sort, you will be removed to an asylum.
"This is the will of the council of the Southern Air Temple in Nancheng. No option of appeal is granted. You will be escorted from temple grounds immediately and are forbidden from returning without an invitation from the council."
At his final words, a pair of burly, non-council monks moved forward and seized his arms, gently but firmly. He allowed himself to be dragged halfway out the hall before he started to struggle, craning his neck around to see the council. It was unreal. He'd grown up in the temple.
"Gyatso!" he shouted, then paused. His voice was strange to his own ears. "Please, father!"
He was dragged out of the hall, but the last thing he saw before the doors shut was Gyatso's wavering, uncertain face. After the doors shut he stopped struggling, walking with them peacefully. They loosened their grip on his upper arms in return, but did not let go.
After they walked him outside the temple grounds, which were marked by a simple arch, as walls wouldn't deter any air nomad from entering, they stood uncertainly for a moment. Rou Li gazed back at the temple, its spires and columns. The ancient murals that detailed the history of his people.
He sighed and turned his back, walking back to Nancheng proper. He would have to go to the Nancheng Air Corps barracks to remove his belongings. Tonight though, he could stay with friends in the city. Maybe see if anyone had any smuggled liquor from the Earth Kingdom.
His tired feet moved without his input, however, and he found himself standing in front of the run down building that served as the Progressive's headquarters. He'd almost forgotten there was a meeting tonight.
He ran his hand over the worn door, feeling the individual wood grains and gazing at his hand in the light of the setting sun. The short blue arrows that went from the back of his hands to his wrists and from his feet to his ankle were the only things that differentiated him from any other boy in the Earth Kingdom. If he moved quickly, he could borrow a gilder and make it to the docks in time to stow away on a merchant's ship before twilight. He could wear gloves and boots.
Living under the Earth Kingdom's no-fly rules would kill him though, crippling him more than the council's grounding.
He knocked on the door with the proper sequence and the bar locking it was pulled off. He entered and ignored the questions posed about his arm. It was time to stop talking about change and revolution and begin acting on it. His brother didn't die to be forgotten.
x x x
"I have to leave!" he replied, unable to keep his voice from raising slightly at the end.
She glared up at him, wrinkles scrunching between her eyes, and he was reminded again of how old she was. Her voice was still strong, though shaken, when she responded, "Sokka, your duty as chief in your father's absence is to your tribe, this village."
His gaze hardened. "My duty as my father's son and my sister's brother is to Katara."
He tried to move around her and she seized his sleeve. "Sokka! Your father named you Tishen while he was serving at the pole! You cannot abandon us, especially at such a time as this."
He knew she hadn't said or insinuated anything of the kind, but he heard his own mental accusations in her words. He hadn't spent the time to properly schedule the patrols. He'd been neglecting the tribe in general, not making it much of a secret of how he'd prefer to be continuing his studies in the North Pole. Now he was going to abandon them right after a pirate attack?
But could he face his father when Hakoda received word of the pirate attack and, as part of his duties as elected chief of all the Southern Water Tribes, visited his home village? Face him and tell him that pirates had taken his only daughter and he, Sokka, her older brother, had done nothing?
He laid a hand on Grangran's shoulder. "Kana," he said quietly, "Katara's counting on me to rescue her. I've made Bato Tishen in my place. I want you to tell dad that I'm sorry when he comes." He paused. "Please... I know you want Katara back as much as I do. You've always talked about how much you missed your friend Hama when she was the first waterbender taken from our tribe to the Fire Nation slave trade. I refuse to let them take her. If I leave now, I should be able to catch up to the pirates in a couple of days."
She sniffed and Sokka felt a pang of guilt for bringing up her old friend. Grangran always cried when she told the story of how Hama had been fighting one of the earliest pirate raids, how their firebenders had withdrawn, seemingly retreating, and how Hama pressed forward, hoping to help drive them back, only to have them suddenly surge forward and set upon her, locking her wrists together before dragging her into their ship and disappearing into the sky.
"Please," he said quietly, "let me bring her back."
Some villagers had followed him over, and now stood behind him in tentative silence.
A single tear rolled down Grangran's cheek as she stepped aside, pulling him into a tight embrace. "Bring her back," she whispered into his ear, her tears wetting his neck, "Please, Sokka."
Then she stepped back, releasing her grip on him and gazing up at him sadly. "And be safe, Sokka. I couldn't bear to lose you too."
His eyes felt moist as he replied, "I will be. I love you, Grangran."
Then he turned and walked down the deck and aboard his ship. He put his supplies away and gave his ship a once over. The burns were (mostly) superficial. He could do (some of) the repairs as he flew.
He started up his ship under the midnight sun, knowing that some of the villagers must have thought he was going mad from exposure. None of that mattered, however. All that mattered was getting his sister back.
Murdering that bastard pirate captain would make him pretty happy too.
This chapter was brought to you by Cheddar Jack Cheez-Its.
Can't talk long, sorry. Kind of supposed to be on vacation right now sans electronics. Will reply to all reviews and such later.
Kia out.
