Author's Note: First off, thanks to those who've been reading so far. Hopefully you're enjoying yourselves. If you want, drop me a review letting me know what you think, or if you think I should just burn it down and walk away. Either one works. I don't work on a specific schedule for updates. Whenever I'm finished with an update and like what I have, I'll post it.

Wasn't sure about the next one. It's more of a filler chapter to introduce a couple more characters and ideas.

Disclaimer: Nothing's changed. I still don't own it.


Chapter 3

Zuko stood at the edge of the pond, listening to the insistent quack of the turtle ducks. He tore off a few small chunks of bread and tossed them into the water absently. To anyone that looked at him in passing, he would have appeared calm, simply taking a few moments out of his day to enjoy the peace that the palace gardens provided. His mind, however, was as far from being relaxed as he could ever have imagined it being.

A dozen concerns buzzed around inside his head like angry buzzard wasps. The Harmony Restoration Movement. The strife brewing in Yu Dao. Unrest among those in his country that remained loyal to his father and Azula. Azula herself. But his mind kept returning to one thing.
Captain Yuan had departed a few hours before, full of grace and dignity despite Zuko's threats. The Fire Lord couldn't blame the men for coming to see him, though. They had followed orders faithfully.

No, he thought, I have to blame the men that sent them in the first place.

The governors of the North Sea Island colonies, a group of men that called themselves the Five Island Council if his intelligence was good, had written a petition to him. Their request had been a simple one; let the colonies remain. They weren't on the Earth Kingdom mainland, therefore they couldn't be an affront to the citizens. He had to admit, the reasoning was sound. The region of the world hadn't been occupied when the colony had first been established, except for a small tribe of castaways on one of the islands in the chain.

The petition itself wasn't the most infuriating part. That had been the ultimatum the fools had so brazenly given. Even now, having only read the document once, he could remember the wording of it perfectly.

The North Sea Island colonies have no valid reason to return to the Fire Nation. As such, if this petition is not granted, the colonies will declare themselves independent of the Fire Nation and all other nations, to establish their own form of government and laws.

The audacity of the move was amazing. Zuko had read up on the military strength posted in the islands. Apart from the fleet of Fire Navy relics kept there for weapons testing by the War Ministry, the only military presence the islands had was a group of volunteer colonists known as the Colony Defense Force. They were a rough equivalent of the home guard, more non benders than firebenders. The army would roll right over them.

He paused, wondering about what edge they might possess. A few airships he didn't know about? His own air power had been decimated at the end of the war, and as of yet hadn't been restored. He also knew that they had access to whatever the war ministry had hatched at the research complex. The nature of the facility was so secret, even he didn't know what they were working on.

He sighed, tossing another chunk of bread to the turtle ducks. With most of the remaining Navy already tied up in the Harmony Restoration Movement, he didn't have the manpower to put down a rebellion. He would have to trust that Yuan's fleet would be able to handle the job. He made a mental note to request the man's service record from the Navy to see if he could be counted on.

"Hey," a voice said from behind him. Zuko turned to see Suki standing behind him.

"Hey," he replied.

"Are you ok? I don't think I've ever seen someone upset you like those Navy officers did."

"It wasn't them. I might have a rebellion brewing in another colony, and my manpower is stretched too far."

"Isn't Captain Yuan responsible for the forces in that area?"

"He is. What concerns me is that most of the ships under his command are old and worn down. Considering the fact that North Island is a weapons development facility, I don't think that they would survive against any new technology the governors might be able to field against them."

"Well, do you have any forces you could spare to help shore up his?"

Zuko thought for a moment, struggling to remember all the details of his military's current deployments. Apart from a token force guarding the home islands, his entire navy was tied up either in assisting colonies in dismantling or providing aid to the other nations. He had maybe twenty ships overall that could be spared to deal with the North Sea Island problem.

"I do, but not a lot."

"Pick an officer that you trust to command that force separately from the ones Captain Yuan is in charge of, on the off chance that he goes native on you. That way, you'll still have the numerical advantage if things don't go the way you think they will."

Zuko nodded slowly. The plan was sound, even if he didn't like the idea of having to send his men to fight against their own brothers and sisters.

"I'll draft an order to the fleet tomorrow morning."

"Good. But for today, Mai sent me to find you."


"Load!"

Veins stood out on the arms and necks of the two loaders as they hefted a heavy practice round out of the ready cradle just in front of the number two gun. They stepped in perfect unison towards the gun, hefting the round up to the muzzle. A third man, armed with a thick steel ramrod, stepped up to the end of the round. He lifted the heavy metal rod to the bomb and shoved it down into the muzzle. When the operation was complete, the trio stepped away from the muzzle and covered their ears.

"Confirm target!" the gun chief shouted, his eyes practically bulging from their sockets.

"Gun is on target and ready!" shouted the sailor sitting at the controls for the training mechanism.

"Launch!"

The crew's firebender stepped up to the rear of the gun and fired a combustive blast into the firing port. The resulting explosion forced the practice round out of the barrel amongst a cloud of smoke and flame, sending it crashing into the waves a few hundred feet to starboard, away from the pier that the ship was sitting at.

"Swab!"

Seaman Kuruk took his cue, stepping forward and bending water out of an open cask towards the gun. He narrowed it into a stream, forcing it down the still red hot muzzle of the gun. The steel hissed, sending tendrils of steam curling up into the air as he bent the water down, making sure it hit every inch of the bore. Once he felt it hit the end, he drew the water back out and down into the cask.

"Barrel swabbed!" he shouted, stepping back to his original position. The gun chief popped his neck and got up off of his stool, checking a watch as he went.

"Good work ladies," he said, his voice scratchy from all the shouting he'd been doing all day, "with any luck, you'll be able to load and fire that gun before an enemy ship puts us on the bottom."

"Aw, come on chief," the gun trainer said, standing up from his uncomfortable seat at the controls, "even with water boy here we're the best crew on the boat."

"Water boy, huh?" Kuruk said with a smile.

"Don't listen to him, Kuruk," one of the loaders said as he rolled his shoulders, stretching out from the day of strenuous activity, "he's just trying to take our minds off of his last sleepwalking expedition to the galley."

The entire crew laughed at that one as the trainer's ears turned red.

"All right, girls, I suppose you've earned your rest for the day. Get this gun properly stowed and get on liberty before the skipper changes his mind about letting you sorry fools destroy the city."

The gunners cheered at the chief's orders and immediately began the process of stowing the gun. The trainer hopped back on the controls and began working them. The training mechanism hissed loudly as steam provided by the ship's boilers turned the platform number two rested on back to its neutral position; barrel facing forward parallel with the centerline. Two of the loaders closed up the open hatch to the magazine while the third put away his ramrod.

After he topped it off, Kuruk slammed the lid back down onto his water cask. He stored the barrel in its proper place, directly below the trainer's seat, before deciding to take a moment to catch his breath. The rest of the gun crew, once they finished with their chores, tore off like children just let out of school for the summer, headed for the berthing spaces. Kuruk shook his head, wondering just how many of them would have to be carried back to the ship after their night of debauchery in the capital city.

As soon as everyone was gone, Kuruk saw two men coming up the brow. Anyone on the ship could have identified them as the captain and the First Lieutenant. The skipper broke away as soon as his boots hit the deck plates, headed for the command tower on what Kuruk could only assume would be official captain's business. The First, however, seemed to see him and started walking over.

Oh great, Kuruk thought to himself as he stood up and tried to make himself presentable, first we drill all day on the day we pull into port and now the First wants something with me.

"Good afternoon, sir," he said, sending a salute the officer's way as he approached.

"Good afternoon, sailor," the First replied, paying more attention to the gun than to the man standing in front of him, "I take it you're done working on number two?"

"I'm honestly not sure, sir. I'm not on the maintenance crew."

"Then what-" the First started to ask, then stopped short as he looked at the young sailor. Realization seemed to dawn in the older man's eyes after a few moments.

"Ah, yes, I remember you now. You're Kuruk, our waterbending gunner, aren't you?"

"Yes sir."

Kuruk had been a prisoner in the North Island facility near the end of the war. He had part of a Water Tribe raiding party that had been captured, ensuring that he wouldn't be transferred to a normal Fire Nation prison to maintain the secrecy of the North Island complex. After the war ended, rather than return home to the Northern Water Tribe, he had chosen to remain in the colony and enlisted in the Colony Defense Force. Most of his fellow tribesmen had ridiculed him for the decision, accusing him of going native, but in his heart he knew he had made the right choice.

"How's the transfer program treating you?"

The CDF had recently ordered a series of small, fast ships known as gunboats. The tiny vessels were surprisingly powerful, but the problem was that there weren't enough trained gunners to be able to fully man all of the new vessels. Captain Yuan had created the Transfer Training Program, an opportunity intended for CDF sailors to gain practical experience working with the guns so that they could return to their service and train their fellow gunners. Kuruk was the only waterbender to be able to take the opportunity.

"Great, sir. I didn't think that people from the Navy would be so willing to accept me at first, but they've done nothing but exceed my expectations since day one."

The First looked at him for a moment, rubbing his chin in thought.

"Tell me, do you think you're at a disadvantage?"

"I don't follow, sir."

"Gun crews are formed primarily of firebenders. I highly doubt that you've failed to notice that. The reason we organized the crews like that was so that in case the man responsible for actually firing the gun was lost in battle, another man on the crew would be immediately available to take his place. While we don't deny that having a waterbender on the gun crew has made the operation much more efficient and safe, your skill set is rather limited when you consider that you can't take over in case your firing man falls."

Kuruk's face fell as he thought about it. Being the man on the trigger, so to speak, was the one thing he wanted to be able to do as a gunner, but he knew in his heart that he would never be able to do it with the guns configured as they currently were. The First seemed to pick up on his disappointment, and continued speaking.

"You want to be the firing man, don't you?"

Kuruk could only nod in response.

"Well, don't let your hopes down just yet. I'm sure that the technology will catch up to you in due time. After all, I never would have thought I'd ever see weapons with this much destructive capability when I first joined the Navy."

The officer ran a hand over the cold steel of the gun absently as he finished the sentence. Something appeared to have crossed his mind, but Kuruk didn't say anything to him. In truth, he didn't know what he could say to him.

"Well," the First said after a few awkward seconds, "I won't hold you up any more. Go get some liberty in, sailor. We aren't going to be here for too much longer, and I don't know when the next time you'll be able to see this port will be."

With that the First walked away, leaving Kuruk alone at the gun mount.

When the next time I see this port will be? Why did it sound like he was really saying he doesn't know if I'll ever see this port again?

He shrugged to no one, deciding to leave the question unanswered for the time being. After giving the gun one last looking over, he hurried off toward the aft end of the ship to get changed into a fresh uniform for liberty.