Well, here it is har har. Chapter 26. I'm slowly wading my way through everything. I'm working slowly to include more of the Gaang's exploits, but of course, the main focus of the story will always rest on Jin and Zuko. I'm a fangirl like that :p

I don't own anything, of course.

"Why are you still up?"

Sokka looked up from his mess of maps and notes to his sister in the doorframe. He shrugged silently, returning his gaze to the candlelit paper.

"Can't sleep." He made a note with his pencil, brow furrowed. "I'm crunching some numbers, trying to work things out."

"Can you stop for a second?" Katara closed the door behind her. The hitch in her voice made Sokka pause, setting his pencil down and turning in his chair to regard her. Katara sat down on the empty stool, the only other seat in the tiny office, looking down at her hands.

"What's wrong?" He rested his chin on his folded arms, resting on the back of the chair. Katara rested her face in her hands for a moment, sighing. "Katara?"

"I've been thinking." Her voice was very quiet; Sokka leaned in to hear her. "About Aang... he's just so sick Sokka. I had to drug him to keep him asleep because he just can't be awake at the moment. And it's not just whether or not he's fully healed, he has to be fighting fit again, and that could take more months..." She gulped. "Forget the Eclipse, I don't think he'll be better by the Comet."

"Have you told anyone this?" Sokka edged in a little closer, stricken. Katara shook her head silently. "Not Dad or Toph?" She shook her head again. "Good." Sokka let out a long sigh. "Don't let anyone know yet. Everything hinges on the hope he can fight."

"What is it?" She lifted her eyes, watching her brother. Sokka turned to the desk, grabbing the topmost map. Pieces of paper drifted along the desktop and scuttled across the floor. "You have a plan?"

"I think I may have worked something out." Sokka spread the map out on the bed. "This is the main harbour for the capital city, and it's heavily fortified with towers and gates. But this bay here, from what I can tell, has very little defence. It is a longer journey across land, but it doesn't have the same fortifications."

"So we would just attack from that side?" Katara frowned.

"No." Sokka started warming up, getting excited as he usually did when he discussed his plans. "We would split our forces. A smaller army would attack as it normally would on the front, and a commandeered warship with the bulk of our forces would land at this bay whilst the Fire Nation is distracted, and sneak into the city in disguise."

"What would happen to the smaller army?" Katara asked. Sokka looked down at the map. "Sokka? What would happen to them?"

"Probably not good things." His voice was very quiet. "They would be bearing the brunt of the attack, at least until the main army fights. If we win, then they'll eventually be rescued, but if not, they'll be stranded." Katara's head snapped up.

"You can't possibly think-"

"There will be people out there willing to sacrifice themselves for the greater good." Sokka ran over her, keeping his eyes trained on the paper. "I don't like it, but it's the most sure way we can actually penetrate the Fire Nation's defences with the forces we have."

"What happened to no man being left behind?" Katara's voice wobbled. "These are our friends Sokka. I won't have them used as some sort of distraction."

"This is just an idea." Sokka rolled up the map. He knew that Katara wouldn't go for it, but she didn't truly understand the situation. Her grip on the nuances of military strategies was tenuous at best. "It doesn't matter anyway. Without Aang, there is no one to fight Ozai hand-to-hand and no leader to unify the army." Sokka sighed heavily, his shoulders sagging. Katara nibbled on her lower lip, bright blue eyes staring at the rolled up map in Sokka's hands.

"In your plan..." She clasped her hands together. "Aang would be fighting Ozai during the comet, right?"

"Of course, it's the whole reason for the invasion plan." Sokka leaned back, tossing the map on the desk. "Get him while he's essentially defenceless." Katara swallowed, steeling herself. "Why?"

"... I could do it." She spoke the words softly, looking down at her clasped hands. Sokka jerked up, staring at her.

"What?" His voice rose to a screech. "Are you insane? You, fight Ozai?"

"What's so crazy about that?" Katara shot back. "You said he wouldn't be able to bend. I would be at an advantage. Look Sokka, I'm good. I've faced Zuko and Azula and won, show much harder could Ozai be?"

"Zuko and Azula are still just kids!" Sokka retorted. "This guy is the Fire Lord. He's been training since before we were born. And even if you manage to beat him, you'll still have to... well... end him." He wrung his hands together, uncomfortably.

"Sokka, I promise you, if I am ever in a position to take Ozai's life, I wouldn't hesitate for a moment." Her voice was low and threatening as she leaned in. "That man has caused unimaginable pain to countless people. To us." She withdrew, her eyes cold. "Don't wonder if I can stomach it. I can."

"We shouldn't be saying this." Sokka rose to his feet. "We can't sit here and leave Aang out of the picture."

"He was wrong when he said that this was his fight." Katara watched her brother pacing back and forth. "This is everybody's fight. And if he's still like this come the eclipse, I'm not letting him go. I'm not going to risk him getting hurt. I don't want anyone getting hurt in this."

"People are going to get hurt." Sokka sat down on the edge of the bed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "If we want to make sure it's not us, we have to take the initiative. We have to protect ourselves by mounting the next attack." She looked at him.

"No one is getting left behind, Sokka." Her voice was firm. She pulled away from him. "I mean it."

"Katara, this is War." He turned to face her properly. "Everyone knows what they're in for. Those who sign up know they might not come back. Some expect it. I don't like it, but if it means we win-"

"You can't use people as a sacrifice!" Sokka was so wrapped up in playing a game of war that he had forgotten his pieces were living, breathing humans. Those closest to him, his most loyal friends and allies. That he even briefly entertained the idea of forsaking them left her cold.

"I wouldn't send anyone who wasn't willing Katara. They would know exactly what they were doing." Sokka returned to his desk, half-heartedly rolling up the loose papers. "This is something worth fighting and dying for-"

"So you would die for this?" Katara's vision was blurred with tears. She didn't want to think about that. She hated it. She had been afraid, for months, that something would happen to Sokka, and it rattled her to the core. After her father had left, Katara attached herself to her older brother, and whilst she mothered and nagged him, there was still a significant part of her that looked up to him. She needed him.

"I... I don't know."

The large hall in the Earth King's palace was almost full when Gaolin crossed the threshold. Unlike the usual dark rooms and underground labyrinths he usually congregated in with his fellow Dai Li agents, this hall was above ground, the pale dawn filtering through the high windows and casting a grey light on the milling crowd. The young man wandered about, checking faces until he eventually found a friend.

"I thought you weren't gonna show up." Shi was a year or so older than his comrade, more grounded and less cynical. "Did you see your father?"

"I walked with him to the airship an hour or so ago." Gaolin said quietly. "He told me to keep my head up and my nose clean and look after the girls. Standard farewell ritual."

"You don't sound upset." The man noted, cocking his head to one side. "I know you don't like him, but spirits, he's crossing the world and may never return."

"I'm hopeful." Gaolin muttered under his breath. Shi heard him, but held his tongue. "He'll be fine, anyway. He's proud to be picked. Azula only took the best." And then left them in the command of an unknown Fire Nation General. Gaolin was inwardly outraged. How could the Dai Li continue to serve and obey a man who had nothing to do with them all? They weren't mercenaries. "Doesn't matter. What's important is what's happening here." They were all uncertain of their fate. It all depended on whether or not General Mung saw them as allies or foes.

"Have any idea what this meeting's about then?" Shi tried to pick up the conversation after a few moments of uncomfortable silence. "I'm picking it's some sort of meet and greet with the top Fire Nation soldiers."

"Most likely." Gaolin said, disinterested. He personally wasn't going to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with any soldier from the Fire Nation. He wasn't going to sell himself out, devalue his own moral integrity. If that was the announced plan, he would turn in his gloves and leave. For good this time.

Seriously.

"Look man, you have to perk up." The older man lowered his voice. "If you look like you're not cooperating... Well, I don't have to tell you."

"No, you don't." Gaolin replied shortly. "I've been told more than once to keep my head down and shut up. Can it, General Mung is here." True, the dark skinned man had taken his place on the podium, flanked by half a dozen soldiers on each side, with more filing into the hall. The young pair stood to attention.

"I imagine you must all be wondering why I summoned you this morning." General Mung's voice rang clearly through the high-ceilinged hall. "As some of you may know, I arrived only a few short hours ago, but I do not intend to be a lazy governor." Gaolin turned to the side, watching the Fire Nation soldiers enter the hall in twos. They stationed themselves along the walls, encircling the Dai Li agents. Trapping them. "Princess Azula has already departed this city, with a retinue of the finest Dai Li agents. They will continue to serve her privately, as she sees considerable value in them." His eyes glittered. "This is a view I do not share." A loud bang came from the end of the hall. Gaolin spun on his heel, gasping. The large double doors were pulled shut, and he heard the click of a heavy lock. "I understand your loyalty to Princess Azula; she is a fine young woman, and will in future lead the Fire Nation to unparalleled greatness. However, I disagree with her decision to station the Dai Li alongside our Fire Nation troops." Horror rose in Gaolin's chest. What are they going to do to us? "I have been instated as the governor for this city, and it is my word which is the highest authority." There was a low, disconcerting rumble within the Dai Li. Slowly, they edged closer together, turning outwards, ready to fight. Gaolin clenched his fists. The Dai Li were outnumbered – Mung had filled the room with Fire Nation soldiers, anticipating violence. "Therefore, I am disbanding the order of the Dai Li." Mung's lip curled. "Your services are no longer required by the Fire Nation." He regarded the cluster of men with an ugly expression. Every Dai Li agent was able to read between the lines; Mung didn't trust the Dai Li. He didn't think them capable of committing the atrocities he had in store.

"Finish them."

Gaolin screamed as the crowd was engulfed with fire.

There was warmth in the young sun already.

Today was going to be a hot day. Zuko sighed, leaning against the doorframe with his legs spread before him on the steps. His sheathed swords were draped across his knee, and at his side was a cup of old grease and a smelly rag. It wasn't the right stuff, but it would do in a pinch.

He had to get the blood off his swords before it crusted on and stained the metal, inviting rust.

Zuko sighed as he unsheathed the blade, examining the steel in the pale sunlight. He had to do this outside, away from the eyes of Jin's family. They already knew – he couldn't silence Chang or hide the blood on his clothes – and they didn't need further reminding of what he had put their youngest child through. It was a thoroughly messy business, decapitation, and it was going to take a lot to shift the caked, dried blood. With the heel of his hand, he smeared a lump of grease along the flat of the blade.

"Hey." Zuko looked up to see Jin's twelve-year-old brother on the threshold, looking down at him. Zuko nodded a greeting as Hai took a careful seat next to him, staring thoughtfully out at the sparse backyard.

"Hey." Zuko looked back down at his blade as he carefully ran the rag along the metal. "Don't you have work this morning?"

"Ma isn't letting me go." He sounded glum. "Says it's too dangerous."

"She's right about that." Zuko muttered, unable to look at the boy. "Is your brother okay?"

"Chang? Yeah, he's asleep. He'll be fine. Ma's just happy that he's okay."

"Even though I killed a man in front of him?"

"Like I said, she's just happy he's okay." Hai rested his chin on his knees, staring at a grey sheet pinned haphazardly on the clothesline. "She thought you were both dead."

"Like I'd let that happen." Zuko blew on his sword out of habit, buffing it clean. "At least you got home safely. I was meant to pick you up, but I got sidetracked... There were all these kids..."

"I can make my own way home." Hai said defensively. "I'm not a baby. I can look after myself. Ma thinks I'm some defenceless child and it's not true. It's not fair. I mean, I'm scared, but I can't sit here and hide."

"Of course you can't." Zuko rested the sword on his knee. "Having you wrapped up in cotton wool will just make you soft and weak. You have to learn how to fight back. You can't be complacent. Complacency almost destroyed this city once and if people aren't careful, it will happen again." He bit his lip. "You aren't a bender, are you?" Hai shook his head. "Well..." Zuko paused. "If I give you something, will you promise to keep it hidden from everyone?"

"What is it?" Hai straightened up, turning to the teenager. Zuko slowly reached into his pocket, extracting the green-handled knife his Uncle had given him. A souvenir of the War. It pained Zuko to see it in his hand. All the knife did was conjure up memories of Li. He couldn't keep it anymore. He didn't want it.

"It's sharp." He didn't patronise Hai, telling him to be careful. "I got it when I was a kid. But I don't need it anymore." The younger boy accepted the gift with trembling hands. "This is a last resort. The weakest point in the Fire Nation armour is the neck, but if you're on the ground, aim for the tendons at the back of the knee. It's not as protected as the front and they'll never walk again after a blow like that. I've never seen this knife before in my life. If you get caught, I don't know where you got it."

"What knife?" Hai asked innocently. Zuko looked up, seeing the child's hands empty. His mouth twitched in a smile.

"Good." Zuko sheathed his sword, standing up. He gave Hai farewell nod before crossing into the dingy ground floor of the precarious house. It was foolish of them to think that a twelve-year-old could avoid the dangers of this new invasion; the Fire Nation weren't above spreading their pain and suffering to children. Zuko didn't return to the top floor. Instead, he turned into the street, slinging his swords across his back, keeping his eyes downcast and to himself. The morning was still early, and he wasn't late for work yet. He hoped that at least work would be normal, laying the same type, working on the same projects. He wanted something that he could lose himself in, distract himself from the chaos of the outside world.

The illusion shattered as he stepped inside. There were three Fire Nation soldiers crammed into the little shop front, Xi Quan cowering behind the counter. Zuko froze.

"We'll be in at noon to pick them up. Five hundred copies, minimum. Understand."

"Yes." Zuko's eyes fell on a large piece of paper unrolled on the wooden bench. Xi Quan's voice was quavering. "Five hundred. My apprentice will be here momentarily and we'll get straight to work."

"See that you do." The main soldier, who must have been a captain, turned away from the printer, towards the door. Zuko, who had pressed himself against the wall, kept his eyes firmly on the floor. He couldn't afford to be recognised again. But surely – no one would be looking for him here. The captain paused, smirking. "You better get cracking, boy." Zuko nodded wordlessly. He could have ended all three of them before they had the time to blink. Zuko clenched his hands, setting his teeth. The captain obviously wanted to get a rise out of him. He was egging the young apprentice on, looking for a fight. But he wasn't going to get one. Zuko kept entirely silent, and the man stepped back with a short laugh, turning towards the door. Zuko kept his eyes down until the three soldiers entered the street, earning a wide berth around them.

"What did they want." Zuko approached the counter quietly, picking up the paper. "What is this?"

"N-New laws." Xi Quan sounded faint. "They want at least five hundred copies to distribute by noon. For free."

"By the decree of General Mung, as authorised by the glorious and magnificent Fire Lord Ozai, conqueror of Ba Sing Se... Can we paraphrase this?" Zuko looked up from the paper. "It'll take an hour just to lay this out."

"I wouldn't dare." The man sank into a seat, looking very pale. "We have to start... They said they would burn my press to ashes..." Zuko looked back down at the paper, his lips moving silently as he read. "My whole life is in these walls..."

"Have you read this?" Zuko's voice was low. Xi Quan shook his head. "These laws... they're tyrannical. Curfew at dark. No unauthorised meetings. No one is allowed to carry weapons." He swallowed, his mouth dry. "All benders to be identified... What does that mean?"

"Don't read it boy, just start working on it!" Xi Quan's voice rose to a shriek. Zuko abruptly ran into the back room, laying the page out and weighing it down at the corners. He found the largest spare frame, and began yanking open drawers, scrabbling around for tiles, skimming the text as he did so. As he reached the seventeenth decree, Zuko's hands stilled, heart swelling in his chest. It surprised him. He didn't know why, but it did. It was the biggest blow for him, personally. He wasn't surprised that they would mark benders or restrict weapons or enforce a curfew. But this was cruelly despotic. Zuko looked out to the front, at the man who sipped at a porcelain cup with trembling hands, and back down to the paper, rereading the new law that would destroy him.

"All printers, presses, ink sellers, paper manufacturers, book stores, and other businesses involved in the distribution of printed or written material, are to immediately cease trading and destroy all remaining stock. Failure to comply will be met with heavy punishment."

Renshu folded and unfolded the letter in his hands as he waited alone in the ornately furnished lawyers' office. It was all polished wood and priceless-looking vases and ornaments. He didn't see how it contributed to Taizu's work ethic or professionalism. It seemed almost to invite thievery.

Spirits, he'd been in the Lower Ring for too long.

He ran his eyes over the short letter for what must have been the hundredth time that afternoon. Nothing but a short note from his old family lawyer, requesting an audience with him as soon as possible. New information had come to light regarding his mother's estate.

It was a ruse, and he saw straight through it. His mother's will was iron-clad. She struck him out after he shacked up with a pregnant Shan, and he received nothing, as threatened. Renshu folded the paper again, sliding it within his clothing. Taizu clearly wanted him here for another reason, something too illicit to be mentioned via correspondence.

"Renshu." He jerked up at the mention of his name, finding Taizu himself standing on the threshold of the small waiting room. "Come in, please." Renshu bowed a greeting, following the lawyer into a spacious, thickly-carpeted office. He had been in here several times before, and took a seat before the rosewood desk silently. Taizu took a wordless seat, bending down to look at a stack of papers. His glasses were perched on the end of his nose.

"Why did you call me here?" Renshu didn't bother with pleasantries. "I know this," he threw the unfolded paper on the desk. "Is a lie." Taizu withdrew a pair of tweezers from a drawer, holding the letter up to a candle on his desk.

"I was worried you would get your hopes up." He murmured, holding the paper aloft as it swelled into a brilliant orange flame for a few moments. It sputtered, curling into itself with a dull glow, withering into ash. A few scorched fragments fell onto the polished desk, and Taizu blew them away. He didn't like leaving a paper trail. "You're still sharp as a tack Renshu." He replaced the tweezers. "Tell me, did you hear about the Dai Li this morning?"

"It's all the city can talk about." His heart skipped a beat in his chest at the thought. It had plagued his mind all day – how could it not, considering those in its ranks? "I don't understand why they are so worried about those in the Dai Li remaining loyal to the Earth Kingdom. Ever since Long Fen seized control, the well-being of Ba Sing Se has been the last thing on their minds."

"Even a potential threat is still a cause for concern." Taizu leaned back in his chair. "What do you think about that?" Renshu wouldn't look at him. "I know you cut your ties when you handed in your gloves, but you can't-"

"If you know something, just tell me." Renshu cut over the other man sharply. "Is this about my brother?"

"Him? No. He wasn't there. A number of Dai Li agents left the city with Princess Azula in the night, to be her personal bodyguards." Taizu rose to his feet. "Wait here a moment, I'll bring him in."

"Bring who in?" Renshu turned in his seat, watching Taizu pass through the door. "What are you..." But the man had already left. Renshu leaned back in his chair with a long sigh. He didn't have the time for this. It was probably one of his old comrades who trained alongside him, swore to be his brother-in-arms until the death, and promptly blacklisted him when he broke from the corrupt-

"Uncle Renshu?" The man sprang from his seat at the quavering, tentative voice, chest tightening in shock. His nineteen-year-old nephew was bandaged to the neck underneath ill-fitting civilian clothes, his hands red with painful blisters. The acrid smell of burning fresh hung thickly in the air around Gaolin, who sat down slowly in the chair, wincing in pain. Horror rose in Renshu's throat.

"At least his face is intact. You ever seen a burned face? That turns heads." Taizu spoke as though this sort of thing happened every day, walking back to his desk. Renshu remained uncomfortably quiet. He certainly had. "Mung was an idiot. The Dai Li know the castle better than anybody, and it's a hunk of stone. Gaolin said quite a few escaped, but most were in better shape than him." Taizu leaned back in his chair. "His hands should be fine. It's those gloves, they got damn hot in the fire. The burns are mainly on the back. I got a surgeon in to take a look. It'll take a long time, but he'll come right eventually. The kid came here first. Too scared to go home in case the house is rigged. And he's got a point." Taizu took off his glasses, resting his chin on tented fingers. "It's not safe for him in these circles. Mung will do his best to catch the few agents that slipped through his fingers, especially now they're kindled against him."

"I can't." Renshu leaned against the desk. "You don't understand Shan, she-"

"Oh, I remember her." Taizu chuckled. "Quite a firecracker. It's too easy, having Gaolin with you. His defective uncle? Come now Renshu, it will be the first place they look. I'm going to give him enough money to get a room somewhere. He just needs someone to watch out for him. Check up and see how things are going. Take him to see a doctor."

"Right." Renshu nodded slowly, biting on his lower lip. Gaolin was completely silent, still in severe shock and moderately high on opium. It left him sluggish and woozy, the pain reduced to a dull ache. Renshu couldn't look at him. Guilt and disgust twisted in his stomach. "I can do that."

"'Course you can." Taizu was smiling as he handed over a small pouch filled with money. "That should be plenty. If you need more, send a note. I'm charging everything to his fathers' account. He's got more than enough gold invested in banks. I know it goes without saying, but for spirits' sake, don't tell anyone. All it takes is for one sly ear and we both know how gossip spreads."

"Of course." Renshu rose to his feet. "Are you going to try and get in touch with him?" They both knew who he was talking about.

"Too risky." Taizu said shortly, settling back in his chair. "They'll start checking mail soon. Did you know they're outlawing paper? Ridiculous, isn't it. I've already sent Mina down to the stationers to get everything she can lay her hands on. How do they expect me to do business without papers?" He sighed heavily. "Look after yourself. And him. Things are gonna get tough."

"I'll be fine." He touched Gaolin lightly on the elbow, signifying that it was time to leave. "They're not going to concern themselves with us lowly peasants." Taizu chortled.

"Small mercies, eh?"

"Afternoon." Shan looked up from her darning to see Zuko drag himself slowly across the threshold. He looked tired.

"Mmm." Zuko leaned heavily on the door to close it, eyes drifting shut. He was an emotional wreck. Telling his boss that his livelihood was circling the drain was one of the hardest things he ever had to do. Xi Quan had taken refuge in his strong bottle of liquor, and Zuko had to essentially carry him home and then break the news to his tearful wife. He felt like he needed a drink himself. And he hated the stuff.

"You're home earlier than normal." Shan set down the sock she was darning. "What happened at work?"

"Too much." Zuko groaned, sinking into the second chair with his head in his hands. "Work is finished. Xi Quan has to close his business. New decree."

"Oh, spirits." Shan let out a long sigh. "You too?" Zuko lifted his head. "Jin got an inspection at work. She doesn't think they'll be lasting long. She's having drinks with her work friends to commiserate. Renshu went in, only to be told that there was no work today. I don't know where he is. Jiro hasn't come back yet. Spirits help us if he's out of work too."

"They'll still need carpenters and factory girls." Zuko said quietly. "Jin and your husband will always get work. But they don't need printers. Not in a town where information and news is cut off." He rested his chin on a hand. "I should be able to find something else. I'm just worried about my boss. He doesn't have anything else."

"If he's smart, he would have money saved up for retirement. You could send him a message tonight if you're worred... oh!" Shan blinked. "I just reminded myself. This got sent for you today." She withdrew a letter from her pocket. "I can't see a return address anywhere. It was dropped off by a messenger boy."

"Thank you." Zuko accepted the note, tearing the seal with curiosity. Who knew where he was staying? Who was going to send him a letter? Zuko only knew a comparatively small number of people in the city, most of whom he saw daily. Who didn't want to meet him face-to-face?

His heart sank as he read the note, a familiar tight feeling welling in his chest. His turmoil must have shown on his face as he read the paper; Shan reached over and gently touched his elbow, giving him a questioning look. Zuko swallowed as he slid the letter into a pocket, his hands trembling.

"Are you all right Lee?" Zuko stared into space for what seemed like a long time, head whirling. "Lee?" He snapped out of his reverie, turning to the woman.

"Sorry." Zuko stood up, trying to seem unfazed. It didn't work. "Where did you say Jin was again?"

"You lose." Aang triumphantly extracted the last tile with a weary smile. "Again. Are you sure you're not letting me win?"

"Positive." Sokka collected the pieces. "Maybe you're just good. Or maybe we're not playing it right." The simple game had been found in the bottom of a soldier's foot-locker, and Sokka and Aang made the rules up as they went along. "Do you want to stop? You look pretty tired." He sat cross-legged on the bed opposite Aang, who was propped up against the wall with a stack of thick crimson pillows.

"I'm fine." Aang forced a smile, watching Sokka lay out the pieces. "I like this game. We don't have to think much." Sokka chuckled under his breath.

"All right. You go first." He watched Aang stare at the board intently. "Hey, I thought you didn't have to think."

"Shush." He shifted a tile to the right. "Your move." Sokka made to raise his hand, but before he could move, a loud clang echoed above his head. It sounded like it was coming from the deck. "What was that?" Aang looked up at the ceiling.

"I... I think it was the bridge." Sokka clambered across the bed, seizing the helmet from the foot of the mattress. "Stay here Aang. I'll go check it out."

"Don't worry." Aang muttered. He couldn't move if he tried. Even leaning over to reach a cup of water hurt. He brushed the game board away, pulling the blankets up to his chin as Sokka closed the door. Aang wasn't scared – was he? No. Of course not. So what if he was weak and defenceless? Nothing was going to harm him, not down here.

Sokka positioned the helmet carefully as he stepped up onto the main deck, taking stock. From this angle, he could see Toph crouching behind a stack of crates in hiding, trying to feel as much of interaction as she could. Near the doorway stood a disguised Katara, who refused to withdraw into hiding. She managed to conceal her slender figure underneath the bulky armour, resting her thumb on cork of her waterskin. He was right about the bridge. A familiar-looking ship had drawn up alongside their own vessel. Bato and his father seemed engaged in close conversation with a man Sokka had never seen before, in an unusual uniform. The helmet had wings around the eyes.

Wait.

Sokka cast his eyes up to the ships flags. Another banner hung alongside the royal insignia of the Fire Nation. A furled representation of a sea raven. Sokka looked from the banners to the commander's uniform, and back again, his stomach cramping painfully.

It was them.

"-It shouldn't take too long, and we will reimburse you at the next port." Sokka approached the conversation silently, his heart hammering in his head. The commander was unrecognisable under his helmet. But then again, Sokka had never laid eyes on the man who killed his mother.

Was this him?

"I will have to check my coal stocks." Hakoda's voice was shaking; Sokka heard the painful quaver in his voice. "It is a days' sail to the nearest dock. You... Must have travelled far."

"From Whale-tail Island." Sokka watched his fathers' hands reflexively clench into fists and loosen. "They're pulling in ships from every corner of the earth. Our job was mainly done anyway."

"I heard." Hakoda's teeth were gritted. The commander spoke in such an easy, matter-of-fact tone, but he could see the man was stewing in his own pride. As though he and his men were an elite force, with their own uniforms and banners, rather than a gaggle of raiders who preyed on civilians. The filthy scum.

"We were actually ordered to begin heading north a month or so ago. It's gone quiet down south. We haven't had a major raid in years. Ever since we killed the last water bender, our orders have dried up."

Hakoda snapped. Bato attempted to seize his comrade by the arm, but Hakoda lunged forward, knocking the commander to the deck. He fell down with a gasp, winded. Katara screamed, running towards her father, but Sokka caught her around the waist, pulling her away.

"That was my wife." Sokka and Katara both saw the flash of steel in the afternoon light, watching in complete shock as Hakoda plunged the blade into the commander's exposed neck. Hakoda tore the helmet from his own head as he watched the man die, blood gushing from a slackening mouth. He tried to scream, the cry only a muted gurgle in his slashed throat.

"Hakoda watch out!" Bato managed to knock down the commander's second-man before he laid a blow, the clash of steel starting Hakoda out of his daze. He looked up to see the gangway being stormed by the rest of the raiders, his own men attempting to rally themselves around the doorway. But they were outnumbered. The adrenalin that surged through Hakoda's veins at the commanders' death left him almost deaf. Hakoda thrust the smaller dagger back into his belt, withdrawing his reliable tribal sword. He wasn't concerned with defeat – he had been waiting for this. His efforts to 'fight the War' weren't as noble as he made them out to be. It had been a quest for revenge. For the past two and a half years, he had kept an eye out for the men who had killed his wife, with the sole intention of taking them – and their murderous commander – down.

And he had done it. Hakoda wore his blood – and he wanted more. He found himself the target of their main force, and he was glad. The metal gangplank crumpled and fell into the water with a horrendous crash, the air filled with the screams of drowning men. But enough of them had made it across to corner the warriors of the Southern tribe, hemming them in. Hakoda saw a flash of water from the corner of his eye, hearing a scream as several men toppled overboard. Katara's bending was enough to scatter the startled raiders, and Hakoda led a fresh charge, roaring. He still saw red.

Only a few of the men, thankfully, were benders. Katara and Toph did their best to take them out first, leaving the men to fight with the others in hand-to-hand combat. Hakoda and his men weren't trained for this sort of fighting; they preferred sneak attacks in the night, with the element of surprise. The spears and swords of the Fire Nation were sharper than their hand-carved weapons, their numbers thicker. But whilst the band of raiders fought in the name of defence, their attackers were desperate for vengeance. Kya wasn't the only casualty suffered at the hands of these men – every warrior had lost someone, whether family or friend, in the sixty long years of raids. As soon as she could, Katara flung herself at the commanders' body, tugging at his helmet. She had to see – she had to be sure that it was really him, that after all this time, he was really dead.

She uttered a cry, the helmet falling ignored from her hands, clanking to the deck. The half-open eyes of a stranger faced the sky, blood still oozing slowly from his neck. Horror rose in her throat, and she recoiled, feeling horrendously sick. This was not the face she saw in her nightmares. This man wasn't etched on her memory. She had never seen him before in her life.

"Katara!" Sokka screamed, watching the huddled figure over the body. Only several paces away, a soldier raised his sword, prepared to catch the girl unawares. He charged headlong, tackling the soldier before he could land the blow. The force of his helmet against the metal deck knocked the raider out cold. Sokka shakily got to his feet, heart pounding. He didn't feel the sharp pain in his side, a weak spot in the armour, or see the blood. Sokka took the soldier's sword, not realising it was his blood that stained the iron blade, rising to face the raiders. But he pitched forward after half a dozen steps, falling to his knees. His side flared up at the sudden movement, and only then did Sokka realise that he'd had been slashed open. Panic rose in his throat, and he tried to stand, feeling light-headed. He pressed a hand to his side, his palm coming away wet and slippery. Sokka tried again to stand, but lurched forward, his bulky armour clanging at he hit the deck. It was a deep cut, and he bled heavily. Katara hadn't heard her brother's scream. She was totally absorbed.

Hakoda was the first to notice Sokka. He caught sight of his son as he whirled around to catch a swordsman's wrist on the upswing, breaking the soldier's wrist and knocking him to the deck, where he screamed in agony, clutching the broken limb. Hakoda saw in an instant that something was very, very wrong, his heart seizing in his chest. Once again, he was totally deaf to the yells and clangs of the battle around him. White-hot terror seared through Hakoda's chest as he ran towards his son, brushing aside those who tried to stand in his way without a passing glance.

"Sokka." Hakoda's breath tore from his throat in broken, jagged gasps, his vision clouded with tears. He pressed his hand against his son's wound, testing the blood flow. Sokka winced at the touch, protesting weakly that he was fine, it was just a scratch. His face was grey. "A-Are you... Oh Spirits how..."

"I-I'm f-fine." Sokka was trembling, his back and brow damp with sweat. Blood seeped between Hakoda's fingers. He scrabbled uselessly his sons' armour, trying to check the wound. He couldn't see. "P-Please Dad, I'm all right." Sokka let out a cry of pain as Hakoda's hand brushed the open wound, biting on his tongue in embarrassment. He tried to maintain a brave face, while his heart pounded in blind fear. The black stain was spreading across his blue shirt – he was bleeding fast.

"Katara!" Hakoda's voice was a raspy hoarse. She barely heard him. "Katara!" The girl snapped out of her trance, whirling around. Her face was wet. She wasn't looking at Sokka or her father. Katara seemed dazed.

"It's not him." She was shaking her head. Hakoda froze. "I-It's not him!" He closed his eyes, trying to stop the pitching and swaying of the ground beneath him. He was trapped in a nightmare. His reckless stab at vengeance had done this. Hakoda tried to breathe, his mind whirling. His hands slackened, bile rising in his throat as he stared at the chaos around him, at his men fighting desperately for their lives, because he blew their cover, at his son who was hurt trying to defend his sister, at the bodies that leaked blood over the deck, the cries of the wounded and dying.

And it was for nothing.

Well, I hope that was worth the wait. I'm not all that confident. But OH WELL.

Also, I'm working on a companion piece to this story. It'll be Ursa/Ozai centric, basically fleshing out the basic sketch of the story that was presented on the show. I'm warning you because it will have some bearing on this story. I figured that it would be more effective to have it as a separate, standalone piece, rather than something hastily narrated by a character. You don't have to read it - the story will still make perfect sense without it - but I would probably recommend it. It will probably be out quite quickly, seeing as it's 'fresh' and 'new' for me - not that this story is getting tired yet, but writing something almost entirely new is still fun.

So yeah. Look out for that.