Three Families Chapter 35: The Anarchist, an avatar: last airbender fanfic

The sun was setting over Ba Sing Se, and nobody came home. When the sun rose the next morning, a particular house, in a nondescript neighborhood, in a utterly average district of the Middle Ring of Ba Sing Se, began to become distinctly worried.

"He should be back by now. What if something happened to him?" Katara asked.

"I'm sure the Avatar can take care of himself," Zuko said from where he sat near the back door. That comment drew a glare from the waterbender, but it rolled off of him.

"Sparky's right. It'll do the kid some good to beat the night. Put some hair on his chest," Toph agreed.

"Of course you'd agree with him," Katara muttered.

"I'm starting to get a bit worried about Nila and Ashan," Sokka pointed out. Katara gave a confused glance his way. "From everything I know about that guy, he's about as level headed as you get. He'd never do something stupid like spend a night out in the streets when you can regroup and pound pavement in the morning, refreshed and ready..."

"That's just wishful thinking 'cause you think everybody's as lazy as you," Toph said.

"What was your point?" Zuko cut her off, which lead to her giving a death glare to a door to Zuko's left.

"I'm starting to think that the reason they didn't come back, is because, for some reason, they can't," Sokka said. "I mean, Ashan's careful, and Nila's about as capable as anybody I've ever met. Aang might be a bit... flighty... but that just furthers my point. Why wouldn't they be back, yet? If it was because they got lost, Aang finds the house. If it was because somebody got hurt, Aang flies back and tells you, Katara. The only reason that they wouldn't be back yet is because something isn't letting Aang out to warn us."

"That's... paranoid, perhaps a bit panicky, but given what we know, probably not wrong," Zuko said, rubbing at his neck. "What do we do now?"

"I'm not sure. I think we might need to talk to the minister I met earlier. He might know more than we do."

"Well, in that case, somebody's gotta stay behind to look after the moron," Toph pointed out.

"Toph!"

"What? He is! He's got the mind of a kid! That's the literal definition!" Toph exclaimed.

"It's still not nice," Katara countered.

"I guess I'm going to be the one staying behind, then," Zuko said.

"...really?" Katara asked, no doubt because she herself was about to volunteer for the task.

"The only reason I got out into the streets unaccosted was because Toph made very sure of it. I've had my walk through Ba Sing Se. Besides, if this ends in a fight, and I'm fairly sure it will, I can't do much without inciting a panic or burning down most of a district."

"That's remarkably even-headed of you," Katara admitted. Zuko nodded, then went into his room. "Well, that means me, Toph, and Sokka are going to talk to this minister and see what's what. I mean, anything involving the Avatar's gotta be big news."

"That's my thought," Sokka agreed. Zuko opened his door and tossed his swords to Sokka, who caught them awkwardly. "...what?" he asked.

"Don't break them," Zuko said direly. "They're pretty much the only thing I have left from home. You could probably make better use than I could."

"What are you talking about? You were trained within an inch of your life with those things," Toph pointed out. "Sokka's just..."

"A Summavut veteran," Katara finished. "...so am I."

There was a moment of silence. "Aaaawkward," Sokka said. He buckled the twin dao swords to his belt, settling them aside. They were a lot heavier than his machete, but probably would do a lot better if something needed cutting in a serious fashion. He gave the firebender a serious, earnest nod, which the firebender returned, before dropping to a squat near the mind-wounded shaman, who continued to stare into the gently glowing embers of the mornings fire. "Well, Team Avatar, move out!"

"Who made you the leader, anyway?" Katara asked.

"Default," Sokka, Toph, and Zuko all managed to answer in the same instant, which was funny for two reasons. Only one of them had Sokka chuckling, though. They moved out into the street, the door sliding shut behind them, and Sokka lead the way.

And not as far as he thought he'd have to. They had barely made it two blocks, albeit past an alley blocked off by green robed men, before they saw just the man they were looking for hustling toward them. Sokka halted, and the others did likewise. The grown man's eyes widened a bit at the sight of them, but he otherwise didn't falter in his composure.

"Long Feng, we were just coming to talk to you," Sokka said. "We think something bad has happened to a friend of ours."

"Which friend is this?" Long Feng asked, his tones guarded.

"...the one which isn't here right now?" Toph said. Long Feng's eyes turned toward Toph, and then, there was a minute grinding sound which Sokka couldn't place.

"Ah, yes. Your friend. I fear that something very unpleasant has happened to him. I hear rumors that there was an incident quite recently down in the Lower Ring," he said. He beckoned the others to follow him, and they did. "In the wake of a civil uprising amongst the Si Wongi denizens of the Lower Wards, there has been increased activity amongst the sects of anarchists and disestablishmentarialists, seeking to exploit the chaos to their own ends. Some of them have been making very active strides against the machinery of the city, be it the facilities which provide water and mail, or other vital services. Some have been more direct."

"Are you saying that somebody has kidnapped our friend?" Sokka asked.

"Almost assuredly," Long Feng said. "And the most dangerous and direct of them is the one which you and I had mentioned previously. The Tribesman and his cabal are one of the most dangerous forces currently festering in the underbelly of this city, and one which would stand to benefit much from its collapse. I cannot allow that to happen."

"If they've got Twinkletoes, then we have to do something to stop 'em," Toph pointed out.

"And to that end, I can be of some assistance," Long Feng continued, entering a building, a lushly carpetted kiosk which looked like a much smaller version of the offices Sokka had first talked to the man in. And at the moment, Sokka was feeling like a royal idiot for not pursuing this insane Water Tribesman earlier. He could have prevented this! Toph gave a scowl as she mounted the carpet, and Long Feng turned to face them more properly. "If you bring down this anarchist and his network of rabble-rousers and terrorists, I can offer you full immunity to anything you do in the pursuit of your associate. I want that man brought down, and I'm not going to allow legal technicality to stand in the way any longer. Is that acceptable?"

"Yeah, fine, but what can you tell me about the Tribesman himself?" Katara said.

"I have already given your associate," Long Feng motioned toward Sokka, and Toph kept staring in the direction of an unoccupied chair, "the beginnings of my information on him. In the interim, I have learned more. He bases his organization out of a section of tenement housing, which is an enclave favored by the refugees from the North Water Tribe who have arrived several years ago. He seeks to blend in with his own, and subvert them against this city, no doubt. While I know you bear a certain loyalty to your people, bear in mind that they will likely brook no attack against him, no matter how valid or appropriate. Be prepared to face them if you cannot separate him from his horde."

"Alright. Anything else?" Sokka asked, as Long Feng handed over a warrant for the Tribesman's arrest, even listing a housing number which seemed vaguely familiar.

"Only that I fear he might have brought in others to assist him in something immediate and deadly. I can think of no other reason for bringing more than three dozen Tribesmen into the city at this time. Be wary, guest of Ba Sing Se. And be cautious. I do not doubt that he has your friend, and is going to use him toward his goals. For his sake, as well as the sake of this City, bring this monster down."

Sokka nodded earnestly. "I'll do it. If he's got our friend, then he's no man of my Tribe. Isn't that right, Katara?"

Katara answered with a brisk nod. Then looked to Toph. Since Toph was standing on carpet and couldn't 'see' Katara, the latter had to nudge the former. "Oh, what? Are we finally going to start knocking heads?"

"Ensure that they're the right heads," Long Feng said with a tone of exasperation.

"Yeah, yeah," Toph said. "Come on, guys! Twinkletoes needs our help!"

Sokka followed after the blind earthbender, into the streets of Ba Sing Se.

Chapter 15

The Anarchist

"You have something on your mind, Tribesman," Omo was, as usual to his nature, blunt and to the point. Kori gave a glance over his shoulder, and shrugged.

"I have a lot of things on my mind," he said smoothly. "Could you be more specific?"

"Ever since the Tribesmen brought us into the city, you've been off your game. Is this going to continue?" Omo asked.

"Define 'off my game'," Kori said. "Because I could fair say you're almost as distracted as I am. Albeit by our industrious leader's ass."

"That's beside the point," Omo dismissed. "I can be professional when the task requires it. You, on the other hand, have your head in the clouds. What are you, a Storm King or something?"

"No, I'm just thinking about these Tribesmen," he said.

"What? Have they claimed you as one of their own?" Omo asked.

"Yes, actually," Kori said, striking the dust from his hips as he rose from his squat in a corner of the hovel. Yoji was, at the moment, outside, so wouldn't overhear them. No reason to have them all in jeopardy at the same time, after all. There was no telling what kind of sociopaths Azula had recruited to her defense. It was an oversight which Kori wasn't going to make again. Although, truth be told, there were a great many things which concerned him about the situation, the least of which being what would happen if they made any mistakes.

The most of which was whether their presence here was a mistake in and of itself.

Omo raised a brow at that. "So they're trying to woo you to fight for the other side? With what? Promises of companionship and camaraderie?"

Kori gestured vaguely out the window which overlooked the shanty-town the Tribesmen had laid low in for the last few days. "You see the bald one, built like an older, darker you?" Kori asked. Omo nodded. "He claims he's my father."

Omo turned his eyes back to him. "And what did you say about that?"

"That my father tried to murder me," Kori answered easily. "Don't worry about me, Kori. I'd worry about them."

"I'd worry about Yoji. Somebody tries that on her, she might try to kill him," Omo pointed out.

"Now you're thinking laterally. Good trick. I'd give you a gold star and a biscuit if I had either."

"Just because I'm in a relationship with your sister doesn't mean you're exempt from beatings, Tribesman," Omo pointed out sternly. Kori grinned, but it didn't really reach his eyes. Too many things he took for granted were starting to show the lines where they didn't match up. Too many things the Tribesmen said fitted in much more effortlessly. But he didn't raise his concerns. There were bigger things to worry about. And more immediate ones.

"Just make sure that nobody declares Yoji his long-lost daughter, and we'll be fine."

"So that bald man didn't claim Yoji too? I guess that puts paid to any claim that he's your sire," Omo said with a chuckle.

Kori didn't believe that, not really.

"Have you ever thought about your parents, Omo? Your real ones, I mean."

"They were idiots who wouldn't recognize they were on the wrong side of a war. End of story," Omo said with a shrug. "If they cared about me, they wouldn't have gotten themselves dead."

"Unless the only reason they got dead was because they were trying to protect you," Kori said.

"From what? It's not like the Fire Nation is going to slaughter children," Omo said with a note of disgust.

Of course, Kori was aware that they already had, by the thousands, during the Purge. All of the children of the Storm Kings that they could get their hands on, in fact. Honestly, Kori wasn't sure what the truth was, at this point, but he was at least open to the possibility of finding it out. That skirted very, very close to treason. Thus, he kept his mouth closed.

The door opened, and the makeup-caked third of their trio leaned in. "There is chatter amongst the savages. I believe they're preparing to move. We should use them as cover to approach the Princess in strength."

"Absolutely," Omo agreed. "Kori?"

"Just a second," Kori said. He moved past the two of them, and approached Ogan, who was already heaving a monumental stack of supplies onto his back like it was nothing. "Why are you moving now? You said that..."

Ogan flicked his dark blue eyes in Kori's direction, and grumbled for a moment. "Got a runner from the Burroughs. Says the High Chief's in the city. If he is, then we've gotta find out why."

"The High Chief? I thought he died at Summavut?"

"No, the other one," Ogan said. "Give your head a shake, boy. Hakoda."

Kori's eyebrow rose at that. There was a high bounty on that man's head already for the irritation he'd been against the Fire Nation in the past. And he sounded like somebody that Kori would need to have a word with. "Well then. Lead the way."

Ogan gave a nod, then started walking, and while the conversation amongst the Tribesmen didn't falter in the slightest, they also didn't miss a step in following after him. This was going to be an... interesting day.

"You know, now that I look at this place, it's kind of a dump," Katara said.

"I know this place is a dump and I can't even look at it!" Toph countered.

"It's the smell, isn't it?" Sokka blithely mentioned. The Lower Ring was easy for them to enter, given their Green Level Passes, but it was practically a magnitude of scale larger than the Middle Ring, expanding out in every direction, pushing against the Inner Walls to the point where those walls, in places, buckled back and were earthbent aside into the Reaches to allow more building room. The smell that he'd mentioned was a mixture of dry sewage and rotting food, human sweat, human waste, and human anger. The last of those positively seethed throughout the Lower Ring of late, according to Toph. And Sokka could definitely see what she was talking about.

While they were dressed in their 'fightin' clothes', as Toph had put it, they still looked a bit out of place. Sokka's green cotton pants and proper Tribal Blue shirt stood out starkly to the browns and drab olives of the people eking their way through life under poverty, both in their cleanliness and their good repair. For the latter, Sokka had to say that Sharif was a godsend. That kid could stitch circles around all the women of Chimney Mountain. Katara was still dressed in her favorite outfit, all of it blue and white, and all of it probably worth a month's wages to some of these people. Only Toph blended in, because she was dirty, her clothes were the same ragged kit she'd gotten into a fight in last night, and she 'glared' around her like she wanted to punch somebody in a sensitive area.

"How much do we know about this man who has Aang, Sokka?" Katara asked.

"A bit. I know what he looks like, I know some of his aliases, where he frequents," Sokka ticked them off his fingers.

"Care to share with the class?" Toph asked.

"He's a bit shorter than Dad, clean shaven, keeps his hair short, dresses like a local, speaks perfect Tianxia. He goes by Tanoak, Ji, and Qujeck, and he stays in the Burroughs with other refugees of Summavut."

"There are other refugees here? Why didn't you tell me that?" Katara asked.

"I thought it was more important to stay quiet," Sokka gave a guilty shrug. "I mean, you know how things tend to go around us. One minute, we're having tea with distant relatives, and the next, the house is on fire, ninjas are jumping out of the chamber pots, and an evil spirit tries to eat Momo."

There was a moment of silence as Katara gave her brother the most comical 'what the hell is wrong with you' face her face could sustain. Toph broke the silence with a chuckle. "You know, I think Brain's right on this one. Weird stuff does happen around you."

"Look, even if you were a big doofus for not telling me about waterbenders in the city," she thrust a finger at Sokka's face, "– which, believe me, we are going to have a talk about –" the finger retracted, "the important thing right now is Aang. I don't know what this Tanoak/Ji/Qujeck wants with him, but I can't imagine it'd be good."

"Could just want a hostage. Just about anybody would love to be able to bend the Earth King over a barrel if they were angry and crazy enough. The Avatar's just the thing to try something like that, 'specially given how the war's going," Toph pointed out. And then she paused, her 'gaze' going long. "Damn it, Dad! Stop teaching me stuff!"

"It could be a lot more than that, though. What if he wants to sell Aang to the Fire Lord?" Sokka asked.

"No Tribesman would ever do that," Katara contended.

"And no Tribesman would ever send his daughter to her death against an army," Sokka pointed out humorlessly, causing both siblings to shudder at the memory of the cold-dead eyes of a man who was bereft of soul long before his body stopped moving, and bereft of mind long before then. "We don't know what this guy wants. So we're going to have to make sure whatever it is, it doesn't happen."

Katara gave a glance back to Toph. "Do you have anything to add?"

"What? Nah. I just remembered the last Qujeck I met. Back when I was doing Earth Rumble, he was the only waterbender worth sharing a biscuit with. We ended up going head to head when I won my title. Probably isn't the same guy, though."

"Given his name is Tanoak, I'd agree with that," Katara pointed out.

"Especially since Long Feng said that he hasn't left the city in half a decade," Sokka pointed out. Toph just gave a shrug and followed after. "The Burroughs aren't too far ahead, so stay sharp. This guy could have literally anybody working for him, and I don't want to walk into another trap."

"Another?" Toph asked.

"Long story," Katara said with a wave of her hand.

"What are you looking at, Jet?" Smellerbee asked over his shoulder, where the two of them sat at the edge of the building.

"Tribesmen," Jet answered, the lens still pressed to his eye.

"You might not have noticed, but there's plenty of them a block that way," the girl cast a thumb over her shoulder.

"Not those ones. These Tribesmen are different," he said. "They're the ones who tried to kill Shadow's old friend..."

"The princess," Smellerbee supplied.

"Yes, the princess," Jet agreed. "Tribal mercenaries are some of the most ruthless that you'll find. And there's no telling who hired them. Tell Longshot and Bug to get ready. We might have trouble."

"Whatever you say, Jet," she answered, before descending back into the building. Mai, on the other hand, remained up top with him. "What's your take on this?"

"Not sure," she said. "Like you said, lots of people want Azula dead. The Grand Secretariat, my family, her father. And that really doesn't matter very much. If they cause trouble, we'll deal with them."

"Practical as always," Jet said. She gave him a smirk, then vanished from his sight as she so often did.

Iroh was wrapped up in his own worries. Azula hadn't returned in the night, which caused him a great deal of concern. It was both from the fact that the girl might have done something to reveal herself – and she was frankly amazed that Azula had the restraint not to firebend when those thugs were about to stab her – and from the fact that, at his most basic level, he didn't want his niece to be hurt. How strange that he still hoped that hope. He knew she was, if not gone, then at the moment deeply suppressed inside that mind. And yet, Iroh hoped.

Her plan to take the city was simple but would doubtless be effective, but it hinged on the element of fear. If she could make the Dai Li fear her wrath more than that of their leadership, then Ba Sing Se would fold. If she couldn't, she was in for a rude awakening. She had given other plans, other schemes, but they were obviously ones she was devising on the spot, in some ways more complete, but obviously not what she'd had in mind. She operated from an assumption that her reputation would make her a useful ally and a dangerously formidable enemy. She simply didn't seem to understand that it just wasn't the case. Azula was not a name to be feared. Well, in the Far West it was, because it was almost the most common name in that part of the Fire Nation, and there were enough armed, dangerous women to make it stick and bleed. Princess Azula, on the other hand, was a known, and a figure of sympathy and pity, not terror.

The door opened with a creak, and two entered. One was a Tribesman, as were many who went about their business in this part of the city. They didn't frequently stop in, though; Tribesmen apparently weren't much for tea. It was a baffling proposition. Disliking tea was like disliking breathing! This one, though, looked much less ragged than his numerous peers, a man still in the prime of his life, and his eyes not marked by horror and loss. The other, though, was one Iroh knew well. Golden eyes narrowed, as they met brown and green.

"Welcome," Iroh said, almost managing to keep the gruffness out of his voice. "Will you be having tea or a light meal today?"

"Just tea, thank you," the Tribesman said. The other, though, watched Iroh as he turned, took a kettle, and poured some cups. The old man set them down before the Tribesman and his Eastern companion, and moved toward the back of the store. He was forestalled, though, by the Easterner clearing his throat.

"I suppose this tea derives from the tuber of the Fireshade plant. Very piquant," the Easterner said. "It's been a while since... I had tea from such a place."

The Tribesman sipped at it, but shot a confused glance toward Iroh. So he wasn't in the know, was he? Iroh focused on the Easterner, one he'd known by several names. One of which, he'd only earned after the two of them fought to a standstill.

"I am surprised to find the Mountain King in my establishment," Iroh said.

"I'm surprised to be in it," Zha Yu answered. A smile flashed to his face, but not his eyes. "I'm being a bad host. This is Hakoda. He and I have some business in Ba Sing Se. I suppose you do as well."

"Family business," Iroh said flatly. The wound between the two of them old and scabbed over. It wasn't precisely dislike. More like mutual distaste. "What do you want, Zha Yu?"

"You're still sore about that little scrap we had?" the earthbender asked.

"That was forty years ago. I put it behind me," Iroh answered. "Have you?"

Hakoda, whom Iroh now recognized as the High Chief of the South Water Tribe, shot a glance toward the Easterner. "How old are you, anyway?" he asked.

"Old enough," both benders answered in unison. Zha Yu, though, was the one who pressed the lull in speech. "What are you doing here, really? It can't be spying. You're not that kind. And it's not for sabotage, otherwise they'd be inside the Walls by now," Zha Yu answered.

"As I said. I am here for family business."

"Your nephew?" the Tribesman asked.

"My niece," Iroh answered. "I could ask the same of you. Why are you in Ba Sing Se? Of the two of us, I'm not sure which he'd rather see dead."

"Also family business, only not my family," Zha Yu answered, sipping the tea. He made a pleased noise. "Say what you would about your methods, you always did make excellent tea."

"A life without hobbies is dry. So is a life without tea."

"So... do you two hate each other or not?" Hakoda asked, leaning back in his chair.

"No," Zha Yu said.

"We have... put our differences behind us in recent years," Iroh said. Zha Yu shrugged.

"I don't know how much it's worth, but I am sorry for the loss of your wife. Qiao Beifong was a good woman," Zha Yu offered.

"She died in her homeland. More or less," Iroh said quietly. "I still miss her. Dreadfully."

"It's hard letting go of something close to you. Especially if it's a part of you for so long," the Mountain King commiserated.

Hakoda nodded. "We've all lost things," he said, adding his own grimness to the pall of the room. "Wives. Children... well, not you, but..."

"I've lost a son as well," Zha Yu said. Hakoda turned to him. "It was a long time ago. He took with a bad crowd, and there wasn't anything I could do to stop what he set in motion. I don't know where he is, or if he's even alive. An old wound. It seems like we've all got them."

"What do you want, besides tea and biscuits?" Iroh asked.

"What happened to the Order in the city?" Zha Yu asked.

"You're bold in asking that question," Iroh pointed out.

"I'm a bold person."

"I do not know. I've made no attempts to contact them. Obviously, that was a good decision," Iroh teased at his beard, which now splayed down onto his chest. "I would guess that the serpent has burrowed under the skin, and now puppets its limbs from within. How did you escape the venom?"

"I know the old codes," Zha Yu answered. "I could have done well to teach them to Sati more carefully, it seems."

"You seek the Dragon of the East?" Iroh asked.

"Yes. We'll need her for what's to come," Zha Yu said. He raised a hand. "And don't give me that show of huff and betrayal. We both know that you've been deemed a traitor by the Fire Lord and that you were never the mindless obedient that Ozai demands of his followers. You know what's going to happen at the end of this summer, and you know what'll happen if we don't stop it."

"The decimation of the world," Iroh said, sitting down at the table adjacent to them.

"The end of the world," Zha Yu countered. Hakoda nodded, which was surprising. Iroh hadn't expected him to be in the know. Although, the end seemed a bit needlessly cataclysmic. He raised that very point. "I'm not being dramatic. I heard a voice in the thunder a little while back. If the Avatar doesn't stop your brother, the world dies, not under a flame, but in the belly of the beast."

"A strong statement. What proof do you offer?" Iroh asked.

"None. Only my word as a Grand Master."

"A word carries little weight in times like this," Iroh said.

"Our word once weighed heavier than all the armies of the Monolith," Zha Yu countered. "And perhaps it can again. I came in here looking for a drink and something to fill the time until Hakoda's allies return to the Burroughs. Instead, I find a potential ally."

"I can't help you," Iroh said. "My niece needs guidance. She is... unsettled of late."

"Then bring her too," Hakoda said, as though it was as simple as that. "She has to know how badly the world will suffer under Ozai's rulership."

"I don't think she's aware. Or worse, that she doesn't believe. Or worse still, that she doesn't care," Iroh said.

"Please, just remember what we all believe in," Zha Yu said. "Remember what's at stake."

"You claim is at stake."

"I don't make claims lightly. You know that about me," Zha Yu countered.

Iroh couldn't help but nod. The man was right, after all. The door slid open once more, this time showing in a very well dressed individual and one who was obviously the man's bodyguard. He broke into a wide grin upon seeing Iroh, while Iroh himself shifted his expression to one more open and personable, rising to wave to a table. "Please, sit down."

"You must be the genius behind this incredible brew," the wealthy man said. "I hope for his sake that your employer is paying you very, very well."

"Well, you know what they say," Iroh shrugged, "'good tea is its own reward'..."

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Katara said at a whisper.

"What?" Sokka asked.

"Look!" she pointed ahead of them, to Toph's dismay. While she could see everything within a certain area, once outside that area she was effectively blind. Well, she was more than 'effectively' blind, since she was blind, but such was thinking when Toph was involved. Her brother followed her point and tracked it to its target. The target being, in this case, a lanky young man with a long face, big ears, and wearing a ratty straw cap. And he was carrying a bow, as he watched the traffic past the alleyway which they'd managed to flank behind him through.

"I can't believe it!" Katara hissed, very quietly. She knew how good that guy could hear. "They said they were getting out of banditry!"

"Technically, they did. Now they're on to anarchy," Sokka posited. She gave him a look.

"Who are you guys talking about?" Toph asked.

"See that guy?" Sokka asked, then his face went blank as he recalled who he was talking to. "There's a guy down there with a bow. We've met him before. He tried to kill my sister and slaughter a town, once."

"...By himself?"

"No, he had help," Katara said. "How much you wanna bet that Jet's somewhere out there, pulling his strings?"

As if on cue, the wild-haired young man with the dark, incisive eyes ducked into the alley, leaning toward the archer. The two siblings leaned back to Toph. "What are they saying?" Sokka asked.

"'Have you seen the Tribesmen yet?'," Toph answered, her ear perked directly toward them, so she was talking toward a wall. "...'then keep your ears peeled. We don't want them sneaking up on us. Shadow'll kill me if anybody lays a hand on our 'guest'."

"You don't think?" Sokka asked.

"Aang," Katara said. She rose, but Sokka instantly caught her wrist and pulled her back down. "What are you doing?"

"We can't let them ambush us," Sokka whispered. "Every time somebody does, we lose, and I have to flee the city without my pants. And I like these pants."

"So what do we do?" she asked.

"Just wait a second," Sokka coached. They did, as Longshot gave Jet a glance which, for their poor angle and long distance, couldn't decode. After that, Jet let out a laugh, nodded, and moved back out of the alleyway. "See? Easy as pancakes."

"So how do we take 'im down without raising an alarm?" Toph asked.

Katara didn't need to think twice. She bounded out of their hiding place, eliciting a strangled noise from Sokka's throat, and bent the water of her flasks into an icy rail which she silently slid down, before gathering that whole tube back into its liquid state, and lashing it forward in a grand water whip, coiling it around the archer's face and torso, before heaving back. Such was the power of her bending that he was pulled entirely off of his footing, and slammed into the wall behind her, after almost colliding with her mid-air. Then, with a twist and and a slamming shut of fists, he was frozen into place, a block of ice obscuring his voice and preventing his movement. It'd hold him for about an hour, she figured. After that, all bets were off.

Toph leaned over the outcropping they'd secreted behind and let out a low whistle. "Damn. Didn't know you had that in you."

"My sister's just full of surprises," Sokka said. He bounded down, and stalked up to the man. "We should interrogate him..."

"No, he wouldn't know anything," Katara said. "We need to get our hands on Jet. Even if Tanoak is in charge, Jet will be his second-in-command. Fitting that a monster like him should end up here," Katara said.

"So... he's a bad guy, then?" Toph asked.

"Yup," Sokka said. He tapped her on the shoulder, and pointed around. "We need you to see if you can find Aang. Katara and I will deal with Jet, and this Tanoak guy. They all moved in different directions, all pursuing one goal in three different ways. Leaving behind an archer frozen to a wall. After a few minutes, as the ice fell away from his jaw, he did something quite unusual for him.

He muttered; "...wha?"

"Did you see him?" Yoji asked as she leaned toward the waterbender.

"Of course I saw him," he answered.

"He's the one who pulled her away," Omo finished. "He's working for her."

"That means he knows where she is," Yoji clarified. She gave a glance toward Kori. "How likely do you think it is that you can convince your fellow Tribesmen that these Easterners are a threat to them?"

"Who said these are 'my' Tribesmen?" Kori asked with an unusual level of peevishness. Of course he was tense. They'd touched on something he couldn't quite see, a state of living he very much didn't enjoy. It was one he was going to have to dedicate time and energy to exploring. Because if it didn't, he felt sure he'd regret it. Omo raised a brow at his words, but Kori brushed them off. "But to answer your question, very likely. I just need to lie a bit. Not even very much."

"Then I suggest you do so. We can scarce afford another incident like last time. That took entirely too much time to recover from," Yoji pointed out. Kori nodded, then broke away, moving toward the bald one, Ogan, who was easily moving in the center of the mass of blue and white which comprised the contingent of Tribesmen.

"We've got a problem," Kori said, falling in beside the bruiser.

"We've all got problems, son."

Kori tried very hard not to react to that. "More specifically; you remember that band of cut-throats which tried to kill us a few days ago?"

"Yes."

"They're here," he said. "Don't look for them."

"I'll know 'em soon enough," Ogan said, keeping his gaze forward, but dark blue eyes started flicking amongst the alleys, windows, and rooftops. "What's their problem?"

"Don't know. They just took an instant and intense disliking to me," Kori said with a flashed smirk. Ogan let out a single chuckle.

"So they would," Ogan said. "Stay close. We'll flush 'em out."

"Don't kill them. I want to know why they're after us," Kori pointed out.

"They won't die unless we want 'em to," Ogan said. A flick of a smile. "We're good at that."

Kori didn't doubt that of the bald, bulky man for one second. After all, he looked the sort who could snap an earthbender like Omo like a twig, even though they were about the same size; there was just an air about the bald one. A foot-thick layer of restraint around an edge which could cut diamond.

He didn't want to admit to himself, but the same could and had been said about him.

Jet wasn't having a good morning, all things considered. While it had started out better than some, with Mai sleeping in as she always did, it quickly went down hill, as that Tribesman from upstairs said that he'd heard a word on the thunder that said something bad was coming their way, something coming after them directly. Whether that Qujeck fellow was telling the truth about where he heard it was open for debate. What wasn't, was that Mai latched onto that news like a harrier.

"Are you sure about your friend?" Jet asked her as she appeared at his side.

"What do you mean?" Mai asked, her tones not bored today, but distracted.

"I mean she seemed to be a bit... confused."

"Right around the time I got exiled, she fell sick in the mind. Even struck mad, she's still probably a better candidate for her father's position than he is."

"This whole thing has me... concerned," Jet said. "I feel like somebody's setting us up."

"Why?" Mai asked, her attention drifting to him for a moment.

"I'm not sure. Just call it a gut feeling," Jet said. His eyes scanned the streets, the windows, the roofs. "This is a day of ill omens."

"Didn't think you were that superstitious," Mai said with a chuckle.

Jet didn't answer her. It was a feeling, like a tingling in his teeth, telling him that somebody was about to try to kill him. He'd had that feeling quite a few times over the years. Every time it did, something went wrong, and they had to get the hell out of dodge. By the end, they started dodging before the badness even hit the ground. He felt a strong urge to dodge now.

So when there came a cutting sound in the air, directed precisely at his ear, it was only by the grace of his skill with his blades, and their ready position at his back, that he twisted them into a sort of pavise, giving the boomerang something besides his temple to slam into. His blades still slammed against his head, but given the much larger site of impact, while it hurt more, it didn't knock him right out. He didn't need to glance at its retreating profile to confirm what he expected, the blue Tribal Steel of the weapon as it returned to its master. "I hate it when I'm right!" Jet shouted, pulling the blades before him, trying to see where the attack had come from.

The crowds had fallen quiet, their eyes locking onto the ground before their feet, and they made all possible effort to not notice anything around them, and made all possible haste to flee before the fight which was coming enveloped them. It was a tendency which Jet could understand, if not appreciate. Mai was instantly at his back, her expression going from boredom to raptor-like focus in a heartbeat, and he knew that she likely had a fist-full of knives in each hand, ready to stab or hurl as the need demanded.

And their expectations of attack where completely validated when the rush of water reached their ears. Jet ducked low, slamming the spikes of his blades' pommels into the street, and locking himself in place. Mai, on the other hand, had no such good fortune, and when that torrent of water arrived, she could only be swept away with it. It blinded Jet, stinging at his face with immense hydraulic power, but he was rooted. He couldn't even really see when the slam abated, simply rushing headlong against the source of that pressure, a roar in his throat, and a rushing in his ears. His shoulder, leveled low, collided with something, but before he even registered that it was giving a lot more ground than it should have, his hook-swords were sweeping low, catching the ankles and heaving them out from under the waterbender.

He dropped low, planting a knee on the waterbender's chest to pin it down, but something felt off about it. Namely, the chest felt a bit 'squishier' than a man's would. The stars finally cleared from his vision, and while he could see the stunned expression of a Water Tribesman, it wasn't the one he expected. So confused was he at that, that he actually paused, instead of bringing those blades down. "Katara?" he asked. "What are you do–"

He was cut off by his instincts flicking one of his blades up, barely keeping a machete from opening his neck, and the wrath of the blow causing him to roll off of the waterbender. When he righted himself, weapons still forward, he had to deflect a spike of ice directed at his face, but still didn't understand. Sokka was quickly pulling his sister to his feet, cold blue eyes locked onto Jet himself. The Tribesman said something to his sister in the Tribesman's tongue, so Jet couldn't listen in, but whatever it was, it drew a complaint from her, which brought out a few words from him, not angry or domineering, more authoritative, then, she growled, nodded, and ran off, heading toward where Mai had been swept by her first attack.

"I knew you were bad news, Jet," Sokka said. "I should have known you'd end up doing something like this."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Jet answered, his confusion plain. Sokka, though, was not in an expository mood, so when he advanced, he did so with a sharp edge leading. The animosity of the attack was such that Jet, who accounted himself a fairly good swordsman, found himself being driven back by it. It was also a lot more effective than Jet remembered the Tribesman being. It was almost like he spent a month in constant battle at some point. It wasn't until Jet started listening, trying to push back, that he realized what Sokka was doing. He was goading Jet into attacking, so he could more effectively counterattack. And his counterattacks were only themselves blocked by luck, skill, and exceptional timing.

But there was one thing working for Jet to Sokka's detriment. That machete wasn't made of steel, Tribal or otherwise. It was whittled from the hard-packed ivory of a walrus-whale. Its edge would be sharp, yes, but anything but durable. So instead of trying to attack Sokka, Jet focused his attention, his attacks, and his strength, at the Tribesman's weapon.

"What did you do to him?" Sokka shouted, as he ducked past Jet's latest offensive, if only to the sound of tearing fabric from an almost-hit.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Jet repeated.

"I know you took him! You might as well be working for the Fire Nation!" Sokka snapped. At that, all reason and rationality just about flew out the damned window. With a rending slash from both blades, he caught the machete in a pincer between their hooks, and heaved apart, snapping the Tribesman's weapon about four inches past the handle.

"I am nothing like them!" Jet roared, swinging wildly, but the Tribesman ducked the flurry, and with a hiss of metal escaping a scabbard, he found his next blow, a two-handed downward sweep, blocked by shining white metal. Jet fumed, as he pushed down, trying to break the guard, to get the Tribesman off balance. Not because he knew why Sokka was trying to kill him. No, right now, he was operating off of rage. And that lack of clarity cost him, when Sokka twisted aside, heaved, and hip-tossed Jet into a cabbage cart.

"MY CAB..." the vendor began, but then, looking up and down the street, at the chaos erupting around him. "...not worth it."

Jet quickly pushed himself off the produce, a hair away from steel biting into him and making a salad out him instead of the produce under his back. Jet wedged himself against the wall, and heaved with his legs, causing that cabbage cart to upend on the Tribesman, capturing the blade under its weight and the cabbages atop it. Jet pushed himself to his feet, and saw that Sokka still had a blade, somehow. It didn't occur to him that the hilt ought have been a clue. The guard wasn't the full round of most swords; it was an almost semi-circle. A hilt for twin dao. "Nobody calls me a National, Tribesman. NOBODY!"

"Well, you've got a funny way of showing it," Sokka said darkly, his eyes cold as ice. Whatever had happened had made a dire man out of the jovial Water Tribesman, that much was clear. And if he didn't stand down, Jet would have to make him a dead one.

"They're here!" the call caused Azula's eyes to snap open instantly. She still felt like hell, her skin tingling where it wasn't aching, but she got to her feet despite her body's protestations in an instant. She hadn't been asleep, as such, merely pondering, thinking about how she could turn this to her advantage most effectively. While she knew she could crush the attack from within, there had to be an option of greater advantage. She just had to find it.

She didn't limp as she left the room, which raised a confused glance from the Easterner who was playing nursemaid to her. Azula didn't care. She recovered quickly. Faster in her youth than now... only now, she was young again. There were things which didn't stay well in her mind. She didn't know why she was having trouble concentrating. It was almost like important knowledge was slipping away from her, somehow. But she didn't focus on that. She focused on the fact that she could a hear a fight happening right outside the window. She moved to the end of the hall, and looked down. She could see water slashing in tight arcs, trying to bowl down the dark-clad Westerner hidden within Ba Sing Se. That Girl.

Azula's snort of wrath came out with fire, involuntarily, but she was beyond noticing at the moment. "I'm going to kill her," she said, her mind locking onto a single track and ignoring all others.

"Whoa, wait a second," Bug said, standing in her way. "You're too valuable. If I let you get hurt, Jet and Shadow'll tan my hide!"

"Get out of my way, child," Azula warned direly, only the utmost of concentration keeping azure flames from dripping from her fists. Burning down the house she was standing in wouldn't do her any good.

"Hey, I'm probably older than you!" Bug said with annoyance.

"I think I found her," a voice came from just out of earshot. It was familiar enough that Azula dropped pretense, and let flames come to her hands. Thus, when there was a rumbling of stone from the back-alley, she immediately counteracted an explosion of stone with a naked explosion, sending the still unseen burly earthbender toppling down to the ground level, a significant fall which she didn't assume would do him any lasting harm. Earthbenders were amongst the toughest of the tough. Bug instantly put her meteor hammer to hand, but it would be of precious little use in this cramped environ. And Azula had no desire to continue a fight here if she had any conceivable option against.

Sadly, that was cut short when another bounded through the smoke and debris, smashing forward with a wide bolt of water which smashed Azula squarely in the chest, sending her arcing through the hallway such that her head was bent down by the ceiling, before crashing against the bottom of the hallway window she'd been standing next to when that fight had broken out below. She shook stars from her vision, and saw that the waterbender wasn't that girl, but rather the assassin who had humbled her twice. The water on his hands was glowing, and his expression was amiable, rather than ruthless. He was obviously preparing to say something he imagined contrite, but his leg hitched, and he glanced down to see it wrapped in the cord of the meteor hammer of the girl who was rising from the dust and detritus like some sort of undead. She gave a heave, to pull him from his footing. Sadly, the waterbender slammed his hand to a doorframe, and the water snap froze into ice. So while he was heaved, it wasn't off his feet. In fact, it gave him perfect leverage to wrap his other hand around that cord and pull all the harder, back toward him.

Bug, being the smaller of the two, was sent staggering forward. Only to be caught by a hand which once again glowed with sickly light. She let out a horrid scream, her entire body convulsing before collapsing to the ground. He gave his hands a rub, then turned back toward her. "Now, where were w–"

She informed him with a punch to the head. That sent him staggering, so she followed it up with a chop to the throat, which stole his voice and his wind, and then, hooking his neck with one hand, driving her knee up into his ribs and causing his air to vacate him completely. His dark blue eyes seemed just about ready to pop right out of his head. As he backed off, she then lashed out again with a foot, driving it right into the fork of his legs, which brought him down to his knees. Finally, she twisted her arms around, and then drove them both forward, two fingers leading from each hand. She expected lightning, and a dead Tribesman.

Instead, she got an explosion which embedded her in a now empty window-frame. And she had no idea why it didn't work. It had the pleasant side-effect, though, of that explosion catapulting the Tribesman back through the hole he'd entered in. Still, instead of seeing him splat against the wall, a hand caught him and caused him to arc aside, before Azula spotted black spectacles – cracked and crumbling – looking in. "Catch," the assassin said, letting the Tribesman drop below. Probably to be caught by the earthbender. She didn't say another word, though, not even a hubristic boast of confidence in her success. She just kipped into the room and came out firing.

Azula furiously bent, keeping the flame from smashing either into her or into something which would immediately set alight. It wasn't easy. She knew the stakes. So she started to advance. The only worthwhile defense was overwhelming offense. So as the bolts of scarlet fire pummeled her, she pressed through, until the two teenagers were hurling fire at each other from barely more than a pace apart. It was shadow boxing. She might as well be fighting a minutely less powerful version of herself. One who knew her every move as well as she did. There was no trick present in her mind that this assassin didn't already have in her repertoire, that much was obvious. While Azula did have raw strength, she was going into this fight hurt, at less than optimum capacity. The assassin was, apparently despite her impalement the day before yesterday, fresh. If only waterbenders could be bought, at any price, Azula mused. But she did not muse long.

Much as the Princess valued her stamina training, such that she could outlast an average earthbender, or even a good one, she knew for a fact that she was gassing out and running out of momentum. She would have to end this quickly, or else, suffer an end she really rather wouldn't.

And then the most unexpected thing happened. One moment, the assassin was doing her best to fulfill her moniker, and the next, a ceramic jug of water was bursting over her head, drenching her and sending her staggering toward Azula. Azula grabbed the collar of the stumbling killer and then brought her forehead down with brutal intent, smashing the girl between her eyes. It hurt Azula, but dazed the assassin far more. Still, when Azula tried to follow it with a punch to the teeth, the firebender managed to turn away a bit, so that her fist slid along the girl's cheek rather than impacting her teeth. Azula recouped that miss by catching the girl in the lips with an elbow, levying a chop to the front of the firebender's neck. Then, she turned and smashed the assassin face first into a door, causing the glasses to shatter and crumble away completely, leaving a bent wire-frame devoid of glass on the killer's face. Her eyes were pressed tight from the pain or the shock, though, so Azula didn't bother looking beyond that she had momentum. There was something off about her skin, though. No time to think about it. She took a mighty step back, then another, driving an uppercut into the assassin's ribs each time, until the window was right at Azula's back. Then, with a roar and a heave, she sent the girl flying out it. With nobody to break her fall, she would have to depend upon her neck for that honor.

"Man, that was close. You alright?" Smellerbee asked, still trying to advance past where she'd brained the assassin with a basin. Azula ignored her, and made sure that the assassin was yesterdays' problem

But as she looked out, she let out a growl of frustration in that she'd managed to aim her would-be killer into the remains of a crumbled cabbage cart. Vegetables slowed her landing, a bit. As she watched, an older Tribesman came running to her side. Azula then noticed what she'd almost missed before. Her skin was far darker where Azula had hit her. And when she checked her fists, she could see why. They were caked with makeup.

That firebending assassin was as dark as a Tribesman herself.

How was that possible?

"Something's wrong," Zha Yu said. He gave Hakoda a nod. "Talk to your men. They should be here soon. I've got things to do."

"What, you're just running off?" Hakoda asked.

"I might have gathered a few enemies in my last time in Ba Sing Se," the Mountain King admitted.

"Enemies? You? Noooo, what are the chances," Hakoda scoffed. Zha Yu just affixed him with a flat look. "Oh, so they're those kind of enemies," Hakoda clarified, sensing the solemnity.

"I can't help anybody if I'm chained to a chair getting my brain sucked out, and I've seen a few people I know are Dai Li watchdogs gathering nearby. I can't be here. You, on the other hand," Zha Yu shrugged. "Good luck, and the gods grant you speed. You'll need it, I think."

"Where?" Hakoda asked.

"Where we landed the first time," Zha Yu answered the question. So they had a place to rendezvous, which was useful in and of itself, if a bit tricky given that Hakoda still didn't have any kind of Ring Pass. The earthbender didn't say another word, though, and began to outright run away. Leaving a Tribesman far away from his home and anything he knew how to deal with. Hakoda could adapt. That was water's strength, after all. So he followed his ear, and started... yes, he could hear Tribal voices in Tribal tongues, but they were still approaching. He began to move toward them, and was almost bowled over by three teenagers, one wearing dark spectacles which were on their last legs, who all pressed past without apology or word spoken. He put it out of his mind immediately.

His ears lead him true, and after less than a minute at a jog through the alleys, he was stumbling into the center of a knot of Tribesmen, most hauling some sort of supplies. All eyes fell upon him, and then no few of his men stopped, rubbing their eyes with expressions of shock.

"Chief Hakoda? Is that really you?" Sajuuk asked.

"Sajuuk, it's good to see you well. Where is Ogan?" Hakoda said, clapping the man on the shoulder.

"Right here," Ogan answered. "Things have gotten strange."

"They're about to get stranger," Hakoda said. "Who's behind this fighting in the streets?"

"Some anarchist," Ogan said. "Not my business. Hakoda, before you say one more thing, something incredible happened."

Hakoda paused. Those were words he did not expect to hear from Ogan, the stoic and humorless hunter whom Hakoda had grown up with from their shared infancy. "What is it?"

"My son, Ked. He's alive," Ogan said, his tone slightly more vibrant than usual. Not that most would be able to tell, but Hakoda could. "He's here in the city. You just missed him."

"Your son lives? Why did he leave you, then?"

"He doesn't know that he's my son. Can't seem to accept it," Ogan's expression grew a shade darker. "Doesn't want to see me as his father. Maybe it's been too long."

"That's good news. Sedna will be beside herself with joy," Hakoda offered.

"So will you," Ogan said. Hakoda gave a 'what the hell?' look, and Ogan nodded. "Hikaoh is alive, too. Just saw her. Wearing makeup, but she's got enough of her mother in her that I could spot it."

"My... my daughter is alive? She's here in the city?" Hakoda asked, his world starting to spin slightly.

"Need a seat, Chief?" Ogan asked.

Hakoda shook his head, both to answer, and to get some of the shock out of his system. "Are you sure?"

"Sure as it was my boy," Ogan said.

"...why Ba Sing Se?" Hakoda asked, baffled.

"You're not gonna like this part," Ogan said. Hakoda urged him on despite it. "I think she's working for the Fire Nation."

"...what."

"You swore you'd stop this!" Katara screamed as she lashed out with a torrent of water, heaving it up out of the wells which dotted the courtyards here. "I thought you were better than this!"

"Yeah, you're one to talk!" Mai gave a dry laugh, as she moved through those assaults. In its way, it was refreshing, having a fight like this. A lot of the same technique's she'd learned to avoid firebenders worked without change. The only one she had to mind was that water could bend back, and hit her from behind if she stopped moving for more than a second. So she didn't.

She also didn't let up on the attack. While she didn't really believe in that old firebender yarn, she knew that every second you were putting pressure on somebody trying to kill you, was a second they couldn't use their whole strength pursuing that end. So as Katara tried to sweep her aside, to catch her feet under her with ice and lock her down, Mai was hurling a veritable barrage at the Tribeswoman. Attacks against the exiled noble were swiftly pulled into defense, a duck and weave aided by a tendril of water to deflect a knife. A shield of ice to encase a shuriken and a quarrel. The single and largest problem with Mai's strategy was that it depended on ammunition.

She might have a lot on her, but it wasn't limitless. She was going to have to get more aggressive.

"How could you do that to him? He stood up for you!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Mai snapped, before hurling another blade at the girl. This one was aimed much more violently. She expected that the girl would duck aside, or freeze it in place, but it would tire her to do so more often. A flick of her wrists brought knives to her hands as she leapt up and away from a low sweep which cleared the road for what was probably the first time in a century, but she was already clinging to a rickety sign by the time it finished. So when Mai attacked again, her aim was thrown off, somewhat, by the sign pulling out of its moorings. The knife she threw, rather than simply forcing the girl to dodge aside, slammed into the side of the waterbender's shoulder, causing the girl to let out a cry of pain and surprise.

Mai rolled to her feet after hitting the ground shoulder-first, and had to kip away again immediately, since the first blood spilt obviously awakened some sort of histrionic rage in that girl, and her bludgeoning tendrils had become slashing knives of razor ice. "Give us back the Avatar!" the girl screamed.

"Wait, what?" Mai asked, confusion in her face but not her stance. So when the girl didn't allow time for a real answer, Mai was already bounding aside and then behind a lamp-post, dodging two strikes which would have split her vertically and horizontally, respectively. "I haven't seen the Avatar in months!"

"That's a lie and you know it!" Katara roared, twisting those blades back into water, which Mai had to leap back from the post to avoid being overwhelmed by. It still managed to soak up one of her sleeves, though, and upon seeing that, the girl clenched her fists like she was trying to squeeze blood from rocks. The water instantly froze into ice, leaving Mai slightly off her balance, and locked into place. Not a good position to be in against a waterbender. Katara raised her hands, and shards broke off from that pillar holding her down, spears as deadly as any which had seen the battlefields of old. Oh, this wasn't good. "Tell me what you've done to him, now!"

Mai couldn't have given that waterbender an answer if she wanted to. So she did the smart thing, and with her other hand, started cutting. A flash of knives, and she had separated her sleeve from her shirt, and quickly bracing her feet against the pillar of ice, she popped her arm out of its prison. She landed at a roll, only to have to roll again as those spears slashed down toward her. As she did, she could feel tearing, both on her arm and her side, where she didn't quite get all the way out of their path. When Mai stopped, she was near a cabbage which seemed to have rolled all the way down the street from a defunct cart. She didn't have much left in the way of knives, so with a flick, the produce became projectile. And Katara, preparing for another assault, wasn't quite able to shift into defense, so she got brained by a cabbage.

Mai finally managed to get off her hands and knees, for what felt like the first time in an hour. Her cloak was a ragged ruin which was strewn about the neighborhood, torn off piece by piece. Her dark shirt was now more of a vest than anything else, and she only had one, barely loaded quarrel launcher left. No more knives in her hold-outs. No more shuriken at her hip. There were a few left belted around her right thigh, but at this point, it'd take more time to get them than she had, so they were roughly useless. She could also feel blood running down her arm, painting her almost-white flesh with scarlet. More dampened her shirt. This wasn't going well.

"Not so tough now, are you?" Katara asked, still advancing despite a knife still stuck in her arm.

"We don't have the Avatar. Why would we?" Mai said, her voice flat and angry, but her phrasing more or less pleading. Not that she'd admit so if anybody asked.

"I don't know, maybe because you're working with an anarchist?" Katara snapped. Mai leaned back in confusion at that.

"...what's your point?" Mai queried.

This wasn't going well. That was the first coherent thought which passed through Yoji's mind after the sudden stop. Since she didn't feel her life ebbing out of her, nor the horrible pain of broken bones, she had to assume some miracle had occurred. She smelled smashed cabbage. Yes, that would have to be it. She still hurt, and when she reached up to her face, she noted that her fingers went right through where the lenses of her spectacles ought be. "Oh, damn," she muttered, her voice somewhat froggy. So the Princess could save herself from an ambush even without help? She was getting well trained by the Dragon, then. This had just gotten difficult. She tried to get up once, but since her grip was on a cabbage head, and a partially smashed one at that, it slid rather than give purchase, and left her flat on her back.

"It's alright, I've got you," a voice intruded on the blackness. She slowly pulled her eyes open, to see that, indeed, her glasses were ruined. Also, there was a Tribesman looking down at her. And it wasn't Kori.

"Get away from me, barbarian," Yoji snapped, instantly flicking a bolt of fire toward him. He ducked aside easily, which made her drop back onto her side, but his face took on an almost poleaxed expression of disbelief. And then, Yoji realized what she'd just done. She'd just showed what she really was to one of those Tribesmen. Oh, that was going to make things even more difficult.

"...I don't understand," he said, his shining blue eyes almost seeming to water just to watch her. "How is this possible?"

"Get out of my way, old man," she demanded of him. She rolled to her chest and noticed something embedded in the ruins of the cart she'd landed in. A single dao broadsword. She then reached down, touching her ribs, and feeling the slightest nick in her skin. Had she landed a few inches in the wrong direction, she'd have gotten impaled by that thing. But since she wasn't, it was useful to her. She grabbed the hilt and used it to pull herself out of the sloppy mess she'd made, and slowly, painfully, make her way to her feet.

"Hikaoh, this can't be true..."

Hika... Yoji stopped. It was like somebody punched her in the soul. But she shook her head. She had a duty to the Fire Nation, and to the Fire Lord. She didn't have time for distractions. She didn't even turn back, as she spotted a fight which had gotten in her way. Between some Easterner and... oh, well, that was something. A Tribesman with the other half of the Twin Dao. And from the looks of things, it was that waterbender from Omashu's brother, the one who was trying to protect the Avatar. No reason not to deal with a few enemies of her people at one time.

Toph was trying to be the discrete one, for a change, using the back-alleys and the dark paths to find the head of this spider-snake and cut it off. She could hear as well as 'see' the fight going on out in the main thoroughfare, but as much as she wanted to just wade into things, she knew she couldn't. She had other duties.

"Catch..." a voice came from somewhere above her. She shifted her glance up and forward, and saw a burly man catching another, who was dropped by... Oh crap.

"That didn't go well," the croaking, throat-punched voice of that godsdamned waterbender offered, before the burly one dropped him to the ground. "Oh, thanks for that."

"You couldn't beat her. I'm going up to help Yoji. Don't screw this up any more than you already have," the earthbender demanded.

"...I think it might be a bit late for that," the waterbender pointed out, and nodded toward Toph.

"Well, that's unfortunate," the earthbender said. And then, with a twist, Toph found a wall racing toward her head. She raised up one fist swiftly, bringing up a wall which that barrage burst against inches before it dashed her to bits. The earthbender paused, and tilted his head. "I know you from somewhere, don't I?"

"You'd better. I'm the best damned earthbender in the world," Toph said, cracking her knuckles.

Her opponent, the same one who tried to flatten Sparky and Twinkletoes in Omashu, instantly bounded forward, and when he landed, she could feel at least three different bends coming off of him at the same time. Well, that certainly took some talent. She had more, though. She powered through, weaving past the first assault which speared up out of the ground to impale her, then ducking under a block of the alleyway hurling toward her face. The last, a few bricks of masonry, she simply punched into dust as they reached her.

She instantly felt where he was going to move next. So she slapped her foot sideways, and a ripple of unseen earthbending surged toward him. Timing was paramount, so even before the attack had reached him, she was slashing forward with her follow-up, a three fingered flick which would send him soaring through the air via pressure on a very sensitive area. The first hit struck, and dragged the earthbender's footing around and wide, so he was almost doing the splits. But contrary to her expectations – clutching at a wounded groin in agony – he simply spun with it, obviously as flexible as he was burly, and when her finisher reached him, he used it to right himself, before snapping off that pillar and hurling it at Toph. He was good.

She was better. As that pillar reached her, she simply lashed forward with her brow and headbutted the damned thing. It exploded into chunks. Chunks she then twisted 'round herself and encased herself with completely, a mobile rocky armor. Then, propelled by naked earthbending power, she surged forward, slamming into him and driving him back. At first, he was carried along down that alley, but sooner than she liked, he got his feet back onto the ground, and dug in. Her momentum slowed, and eventually stopped completely. Then, with a heave, he pushed her one step back. Oh, that wasn't good.

Then, he pulled back from her charge for the briefest of moments, before lashing down with a knife-edged chop to the front of her 'armor', which caused it to split and fall away under that strike. She was already trying to pull it back into place when a thick, meaty hand closed into her shirt, and heaved her out of it with the rumble of crumbling rock. She landed on her back with a grunt of pain. But she didn't lay idle long. She could 'see' that waterbender making his move. While she didn't see why one hand would be so dangerous, she didn't give him the luxury of opportunity. She bent hard and fast, and in the instant before he laid that hand onto her neck, her neck, chin, and jaw were all encased in stone. She could practically hear the 'oh shit' in the waterbender's expression, before she slammed down one foot. Doing so popped up a column under the waterbender which took his weight off of her. As she rolled out from under him, she swept a gauntlet onto her hand, and pushed hard with it, slamming him sideways into the wall, before grabbing above with her other hand, and rolling the wall down to encase him like a spring-roll.

She turned her attention back to the earthbender just in time to get clipped in the chest by a brick. It hurt, pretty badly, but she only lost about a pace of ground. While she certainly could stick around and fight this guy who'd tried to kill her that one time, she had better things to do with her time.

"A little help?" the waterbender asked.

Toph, on the other hand, gave the earthbender a parting wave. "So long, dunderhead!" she declared, before leaping through a wall and sealing it behind her in the instant of her passage. She repeated the same trick twice, passing through the living room of a family of huddling Tribesmen and then past another family of the poor and destitute who were likewise staying down and away from windows. Toph paused, since she 'saw' something she didn't expect.

"No way... that can't be," she said, 'looking' up.

"Please, just leave us alone! We haven't done anything!" the man of the house pleaded.

"Keep your underpants on. Just catching my breath," Toph dismissed. Another 'glance' upward, and that familiar sensation, that unmistakable certainty of a known presence, was gone. That baffled her all the more. She had felt the heartbeat as clearly as her own, the same trembles, the same stances and tics, just a few floors up and a hallway away. And then? Nothing. Only the slightest grind of stone against stone, which Toph didn't think to track. She then 'looked' out into the streets, before releasing another surprised grunt. "...Well, I know I recognize that one."

The fight was hardly fair. Sokka was a would-be hunter from the South Pole, who'd fell backwards into befriending the Avatar and saving him from himself – and the Fire Nation by extension. His opponent was a war-bitten youth who'd literally spent more than half his life with a blade in his hand. And yet, because of the differences between them, the strange paths that the two of them walked, the gulf in skill was much smaller than one should have expected. Still enough to leave Sokka bouncing back more often than he ever dared to attack. But those attacks he did press gave him ground. Never with an edge, though.

Sokka was a one-handed fighter. That much was obvious, whereas Jet had weapons for attack and defense simultaneously. A parry and swipe was what one would expect from a beginner. Jet had a suspiciously Western tendency, though, to attack without cease. Every attack lead to the next. Never a pause for breath or defense. That was the strength arrayed against Sokka. Sokka was good at turning strength against itself. And he had an open hand to do it with.

As Jet hooked his blades together, twirling like some sort of savage dancer and having the weapon leap far longer than one alone could bite, Sokka quickly pulled a chair into its path. While the blades continued in their arc, they did so much more slowly than Jet would have intended. Instead of popping right back into his hands, they fell still about three quarters of the way there. And the jerk to pull them back in was enough time to allow the Tribesman to get inside Jet's protective bubble of steel and deliver both boots, airborne and at high velocity, to the center of the anarchist's chest. Sokka landed on his back, as did Jet. Both got up almost simultaneously, almost nose to nose as they each pressed again, in their own way. Sokka kept his borrowed blade close to him, an edge toward his aggressor, almost as though trying to hug it through the man. That constant shift in angle and position meant that Jet, who's weapons were hardly so handy, had to reposition constantly to avoid getting lacerated. It was easy for Sokka. It would grow less so for Jet. Until Jet did something unexpected, and headbutted Sokka in the face. Both were stunned a moment, as was the case for every head-butt, but Jet recovered just a touch faster.

Jet had finally hooked Sokka's blade near its guard with the crescent-guards of his own weapon, and was about to thrust the spike-pommel into Sokka's shoulder when his eyes went wide, and that weapon instantly flew over his own shoulder and there was a clang from Jet's back. With a spin, he twisted away from Sokka, a hiss of sparks flying away where metal ground past metal with extreme force, Jet moving away, both hook blades before him. And Sokka now found himself standing before a teenaged girl with oddly discolored skin, who was holding the other half of Zuko's twin dao. Her eyes, intently focused on Sokka, were bright blue, and where her skin wasn't the parchment complexion of a local, it was easily as dark as Sokka's own.

"And who the hell are you?" Jet demanded, flicking up a blade in each hand toward the two people who'd tried to kill him in the last minute.

"Nemesis," the stranger answered. And then, she launched herself, blade first, at Sokka. Where each of Jet and Sokka were taught purely through the rigors of naked and unrestricted combat – and their respective styles showed it – this one, she was obviously taught by somebody. Where Jet's style was mobility in attack, and Sokka's mobility in defense, hers was more like a waltz, shifting between the two to the beat of an unheard and unpredictable tune.

When Sokka parried her attack away, she turned that same attack toward Jet, who himself had to ward it with another clang of steel. "So why are you trying to kill me?" Sokka asked, almost losing a hand at 'trying' for her lightning counterattack.

"You're an enemy of my homeland," she said, her bright blue eyes making that statement a bit... confusing. "You serve the Avatar. You have to die."

"That's a bad reason!" Sokka answered, barely keeping her sword away from his ear. The ring of the weapons colliding still echoed in his head, though. She immediately turned to cut low, causing Jet to hop out of the blade's way, before twirling once more and slamming a boot into his abdomen before he could land, causing him to sprawl back. "So why are you trying to kill him?" Sokka asked.

"Like you even need to know," Yoji said.

Behind Sokka, there was a sound of crashing masonry and lumber, and a loud grunt of pain. He gave a glance over his shoulder to see that Smellerbee, the ambiguously female swordfighter of Jet's crew, was now lying on her face, bleeding from her nose, on the street.

"Bee!" Jet shouted, getting to his feet, and having to catch and redirect the swordswoman's blade as he did so.

"I'm sorry, Jet. I couldn't stop them... Those guys got Azula..."

"WHAT?" Sokka shrieked. "Azula's here?"

Sokka's answer was forestalled by a blade clipping him upside the head, sending him stumbling and staggering away. The only reason it had been the flat and not the cutting edge was because Jet's last-moment interference hooked the girl's ankle as she lunged, causing a deadly thrust to turn into a batter. She still spun and kicked Jet in the face before rolling back onto her feet and returned triumphant to her feet, a smirk on her face. Sokka tried very hard to regain his balance – and keep down his breakfast – as his world was spinning.

"Well, I take it that's my cue to leave. Well, as soon as I kill you, anyway," she limbered her arm, as Sokka tried to get his balance back. It didn't entirely work, as he still swayed in place, his sword-arm like a noodle. "Any ally of the Avatar is an enemy of mine."

She rushed forward, that sword cutting the air directly toward Sokka's neck.

Only to be interrupted by a torrent of water blasting over Sokka's shoulder and into her face.

Nightmares fled in a moment of agony, which parted into dull ache and a pounding head. Hands slowly, almost numbly, reached up and quested along her face. Damp. Right, she had been bleeding. She didn't smell blood, though. Eyes – or rather eye – opened, and it was dark. She could hear a rumbling somewhere out of her perception. That was all she could hear, that rumbling. They quested a little bit higher, to confirm what she'd concussedly believed.

One eye... two eyes.

Huh.

Must have been a bad dream.

She immediately turned onto her side, flopped most of the way onto her belly and vomited bile onto the floor.

No, obviously not just a dream. Vision slowly returned, fuzzing in more swiftly with one side than the other. That the other side fuzzed in at all left her mindly baffled. No. She had to get up. She tried, and when she did, she almost went face-first into her own vomit. Not pleasant. Slower next time. This time, it felt like her limbs were made of lead, tied to her torso with rotting threads. But she managed to gain momentum, and then purchase. Her feet were bare against the wooden floor, and she wobbled when she rose, but she was standing.

"What happened?" she asked, her voice sounding a bit odd to her ears. A bit more raspy than she was used to. She focused her attention through the fog in her mind, and saw a pair of Tribesmen, woman and man, huddled together. Well, the woman was doing the huddling, flinching every time that rumble in Nila's voice grew louder. The man just stared into the distance as Sharif would. "What is going on out there?"

"Don't go outside," the Tribeswoman said with a very small, very fearful voice.

No. She didn't have that luxury. She didn't know where she was, and she wasn't wearing her own clothing, but that never stopped her before. She had to get back to the others. They had to know.

And Nila began to walk, out of a tenement building almost identical to the one she'd lived in for weeks.

Because that particular one was just down the street.

"He's trying to burn down the city!" Katara pointed out, keeping the water which was both her spear and her shield limber and loose, even though she was starting to tire. "It'll be like handing Ba Sing Se over to the Fire Nation!"

"You don't know what you're talking about. Have you even bothered to take a look around?" Shadow countered, standing with her posture slightly hunched, her eyes snapping. "If this is the order that you want to preserve, then I want no part in it. No rulership is preferable to this rulership!"

"And where does Aang fit into your twisted little plan?" Katara snapped. Yes, she was furious. She had a right to be. Her friend was in danger, and this... traitor was the cause of it.

"Why would I have anything to do with the Avatar? Do you think I'm insane?" Shadow answered. Katara saw that she'd moved out of her balance just a bit, so decided to end this. The sooner she got past the lies, the sooner she could save Aang.

It didn't occur to her, in her current state of wrath, that the other girl might be telling the truth.

Katara lashed out with a whip, which her foe dodged and weaved around, ducking under it, leaning aside it, whatever it took to keep from being flattened, tripped, or frozen. She was remarkably good at getting out of the way of attacks. And that was infuriating. So Katara did something different. She simply exploded all of her water into steam, and then flash froze it into a slush, which slowed the girl down. She tried to freeze Shadow into place, but just as Katara had her dead to rights, she managed to pop free – at the cost of her boots – and now charged forward on the icy platform Katara had made. Katara's eyes bugged as the other girl shouldered down and slammed straight into Katara's chest. Katara flew back, while Shadow rolled to an almost immediate stop at the end of the ice. She expected that a wall would arrest her at worst, and a broken cabbage cart at best.

Instead, she got strong hands and a grunt of confusion.

"Thanks," she said, pushing away and flicking the water out of her other flask without looking back.

"Katara? Is that really you?" an all-too-familiar voice asked. Katara's entire brain shut down for a second, her body locked as it tried to understand what didn't make sense. How? She turned, heedless of the fact that she was in a fight, and saw her father, standing only a pace behind her. Hakoda's expression was... strained. Like he wanted to be happy, but the effort was at the moment too much. Shadow went completely forgotten behind her.

"Dad? What are you doing in Ba Sing Se?" she asked.

"I could ask you the same question. What's going on? Who are these people you're fighting?" Hakoda asked, his knife in hand and fists tight. That was the signal Katara needed to turn and face Shadow, who still watched them warily, before glancing aside of them and spotting another clash, between Sokka and Jet.

"I'm trying to save Aang from these anarchists!" Katara said vehemently.

Hakoda moved forward, glancing at Katara's foe, and shook his head slowly. "...Katara... I think you're fighting the wrong person."

"What?" Katara demanded. "How could you say that!"

"He's right," Shadow said. "I've got no reason to be fighting you. I don't know what happened to your friend, but sure as the sun rises it wasn't us who took him."

"Katara, this is important. I think I've found your..." Hakoda said, catching Katara's shoulder and pulling her attention to him.

She was cut off when his eyes went wide and he cried out in alarm. Katara turned to see that Sokka and Jet's sword-fight had been interrupted by a third, with mismatched skin-tone and one of Sokka's twin dao. She trounced both with almost contemptuous ease, before a window cracked open and Jet's other female goon dropped onto the street from above.

"I'm sorry, Jet. I couldn't stop them... Those guys got Azula..."

"Azula is here?" Katara demanded, her water instantly forming into razor blades.

"Katara, this isn't the time. That girl is y– SOKKA NO!" Hakoda broke off, as the girl lunged for Sokka's throat with the blade. But Katara could see something, just past Sokka's shoulder. Just a flash of blue and white.

And that flash became a tsunami. Heaving a torrent of water out of a well, he smashed it around Sokka and directly into the would-be killer, flattening her against the street, before twisting that water up and around, and then slamming it down again. She instantly recognized the person doing the slamming. It was the person whom Sokka had been tasked to find. The heart of this group of anarchists; Tanoak. He looked just as ruthless as any North Water Tribesman that Katara had ever seen in Henhiavut. He smashed the swordswoman around, hurled her into street and stall, until finally, she dropped to her knees for a moment. Katara's eyes widened when she saw the face which stared back at her.

Water had scoured everything which hid its true nature. She couldn't have said that it was her mother's face, since Katara didn't have any conscious recollection of her mother's features, but there was enough semblance between that girl and Katara herself – the shape of the face, the mouth, the eyes, the nose even the way that her hair went when it was soaked – that she instantly knew that this person had to be an immediate relative. Katara blinked in bafflement.

"Katara... why are there two of you... and why's one wearing red?" Sokka asked, still stumbling as he walked from a blow to the head.

"I assume you're here looking for my head? Well, it won't come easily," Tanoak said.

"I'm guessing Long Feng used them against us without telling them a damned thing," Shadow interrupted. He glanced toward her, but kept his water flowing 'twixt his hands.

"Why are you doing this, Hikaoh?" Hakoda asked, heartbreak clear in his voice.

Hikaoh.

Katara's older sister.

Hikaoh, if that was indeed her, slowly pushed her way up from her knees, standing soaking and defiant. "Quit your babbling, savage. You have nothing to say that I want to hear," she said. That voice tugged at Katara's oldest memories as well. She had Kya's voice. "I've wasted enough time here."

"How is this possible?" Katara asked her father, her eyes locked on the Tribesman that she knew for a fact was a firebender. "Seriously; HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE!"

"Hikaoh, please, you don't need to do this," Hakoda pleaded. Hikaoh's left eye twitched just a bit.

"My name... is Yoji."

"Somebody need an exit?" another Tribesman asked, rushing to Hikaoh's side, and hurling down a handfull of discolored lemons. Katara's eyes went wide – the worst of all possible reactions – as it burst, sending pepper grease and pepper powder into the air, the streets, and her face. When finally she scraped the worst of it away with her ice, and cleared her vision, Hikaoh and the other Tribesman were gone.

"What the hell happened?" Jet demanded, throwing away a bolt of cloth he'd protected his face with.

"There's no way that's who I think it is," Toph announced, coming into sight. Tanoak turned to her. "...I think it is. Qujeck Shaktson, my old enemy."

"Enemy? We fought twice, and you beat me both times," the waterbender remaining said, still rubbing at an eye.

"OH GODS! WHY DOES EVERYTHING HURT?" Sokka screamed. Katara did him a favor and started healing the pain, before the burn. But she still kept her attention on Tanoak/Qujeck.

"You're the son of Shakt and Lana?" Hakoda asked. There was a band devoid of pepper across his eyes, where he'd covered it with his sleeve. Tui La, was it just her and Sokka who actually got hit by that bomb? "Zha Yu's spoke about you. What just happened here?"

"Zha Yu? Why would the Mountain King be involved with..." Katara began, before breaking off to cough.

"As I understand it, he's been trying to break a stranglehold on the East for decades," Hakoda said. He looked to Toph. "Do you know where they went?"

"Nice to 'see' you too," Toph said with a rolling of her own useless eyes. She shook her head. "Wherever they went, they went there fast. And there's too much chaos to pick out them in particular. Why? What's goin' on?"

"DAMN IT!" Hakoda screamed, rage in his voice for the first time that Katara could remember. Such, that he kicked a stall hard enough to break one of its support posts. When he turned back to her, his eyes were pressed tight, as though to hold in tears. Because that was what they were doing.

"A bit of explanation remains in order," Qujeck repeated.

"You're not holding the Avatar captive, are you?" Toph asked. "And you'd better not lie. I can tell when people are lying."

"Why would I kidnap the Avatar? I want him out there, keeping Long Feng's eyes off me so I can do my work!"

"So you are fighting," a fit of coughs, "Long Feng! What'd he ever do to you?"

Qujeck turned his icy blue eyes to Sokka, before waving his arm wide. "Do I need to start a list?"

"Long Feng's just some paper-pusher in the Middle Ring," Sokka said.

"No. He's a lot more than that," Qujeck said. He looked past them all, to where Jet was now standing at Shadow's side. "Get your friends. We've got to move before the Dai Li get us completely surrounded."

Katara raised her hands, ice moving with them. "I'm not going anywhere with you!" she shouted. "Even if you don't have our friend, you're still..." and at that, she trailed off, because she realized that lacking that, there was no real point to conflict. After all, what stakes had they in the politics of a city they, in all likelihood, would never need to come back to? She prayed silently and desperately for a distraction to make her look a little less like an idiot.

"What are you idiots doing?" the hoarse Si Wongi accent was about as good as she was going to get. They all turned down the street, and all of Katara's friends and family reacted with a start – Toph excluded since she couldn't 'see' that far. Nila was standing there, unsteadily, her arms hanging limply at her sides, and her head waggling from side to side slowly as though she couldn't quite keep her balance. Strangely, her left eye was now a sort of moldy blue-white color. She was also wearing Katara was fairly sure she'd never wear voluntarily.

"Nila, why are you wearing Water Tribe underwear?" Sokka said, still trying to get his head out of 'stunned' and into 'coherent'. The Si Wongi stopped, looked down, then back at him.

"So I am. Qujeck, why, oh why, are you trying to kill the Avatar's guardians?" Nila asked flatly.

"There seems to have been some sort of misunderstanding," Qujeck said.

"You shouldn't be up. You're still weak," Hakoda said.

"Wait, how does Nila know him? And how do you know her?" Katara asked, pointing from her father to Nila.

"We met earlier," both men said in unison. Qujeck spoke first. "I tried to warn her about the Dai Li. Sadly, it seems she's seen the worst of it first hand."

"I found her in an alley and brought her down here to be healed," Hakoda explained.

"...idiot. I was nearly home. The waterbender could have healed me," Nila limply pointed at Katara. "I know what happened to Mother. The Dai Li have her."

"Great. Can we please get out of the street before somebody murders us?"

"Wait, what about Azula?" Katara asked. "What are you people doing with that snake?"

"The Princess?" Hakoda asked.

"We were trying to end the war," Qujeck said. He picked up Smellerbee and laid a glowing hand on her neck. "The Dai Li ran off with her before I could stop them. Damn it all! This is all going wrong!"

"What is?" Hakoda asked.

"If they kill her and frame Ozai, Azul attacks Ozai and I lose my chance at Long Feng!"

Hakoda gaped at him. "So you're only going to save her life so you can avenge a petty feud?"

"PETTY?" Qujeck screamed. "How many hundreds of people have died in this city since that monster became Grand Secretariat? How many thousands? How many millions have lived under fearful slavery?"

"Two?" Toph supplied. All eyes turned to her. "What? He wanted a number."

"Qujeck is right. For the wrong reasons, but he's right. We can't talk about this here, and not now. If Long Feng is really the enemy, then he's played us all for fools," Hakoda said, standing between everybody with placating gestures. "We need to regroup. And we need to find out what happened to the Avatar."

Yoji stopped, staring at Kori, darkening with anger."What do you mean, 'we're not the ones who got her'?"

The bag over her head was an insult to her station and her intelligence. She knew perfectly well where they were taking her. She could track every turn and descent, could identify the change in the sound as the cobbled roads of the Middle Ring became the metaled roads of the Upper, and then precisely hewn granite as they moved under the Royal Palace. She could practically count the steps as they moved down, down, down, into the caves of Zutara, and the bones of the city which predated Ba Sing Se. She had fought when they took her, until she realized who they were, and what that meant the day had become. So long it had been that she couldn't remember the exact date, but if it was today, then so be it.

Azula had fought, yes, but fighting intentionally to lose was something that didn't come easily to her. She wagered one of them was never going to be able to chew on that side of his mouth anymore. But in its way, it just made it all the more realistic. Verisimilitude was key in this. Long Feng had to honestly believe that she'd misstepped and landed in his web. So she kept making noise against the gag between her teeth, but it wasn't desperate cries, as they would assume. She was actually loudly and angrily singing a lullaby she had soothed Chiyo and Daichi to sleep with. She could wait.

Ba Sing Se would fall again.

…

But not all of her believed it.

"You have a lot of luck," the mind-wounded Si Wongi said. Zuko rolled his eyes, even though they were at the moment pressed closed, and concentrated on perfecting his breathing. It was a task he'd done innumerable times, during their trip across the wide world on that tiny ship. It was calming. He needed to be calm. There was a grunt nearby, and Zuko ignored it. His arm still ached a bit from where the door hit him, but that would fade soon enough, even without Katara's aid – for he very much doubted that she'd offer it. "It is like the swarm 'round my sister. Only more dy...dyma... fluid."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Zuko said simply, his eyes pressed closed. He heard something shifting. "Stop that."

"Why is she so empty?" Sharif asked.

"I couldn't tell you," Zuko said. He cracked an eye open just for a second, glanced at whom Sharif was talking about, confirmed she was still there, and then closed his eyes again.

It had been hours ago that a knock had come to the door. Hours of impatient waiting for the others to get back with the Avatar. All of this would fall apart without him. He would fail his family without the Avatar. There was irony in that thought. Had the past played out any way but as it had, it probably would have made a monster of him. He sat, watching Sharif slowly but meticulously repairing one of the waterbender's dresses when that knock came. He was suspicious, of course, but there's only so suspicious a person can be. And he certainly couldn't let the Si Wongi open the door. It'd probably start an international incident. So he slid the door open just a crack.

There was a woman standing out there, with a pale complexion, bright green eyes, and a very, very wide grin. "What do you want?" He'd asked.

"Hello. I am Joo Dee," the woman said. "I am here to perform a survey on the inhabitants of this residence. May I please come in?"

"No," Zuko said.

"It is very rude to keep a city official standing outside," she said brightly, in a sort of hollowed out sing-song. Too bright by a half, and almost as tinny as a kettle-drum. "This will only take a moment."

"I said you can't come in."

"I must insist, sir," the woman said, placing a hand on the door. "Are you the registered owner of this domicile?"

"Yes, now go away," Zuko said. Everything about this situation had caused him to go from paranoia to outright alarm. Somebody was trying to get into this building. The Avatar's building. He didn't know who, but he could guess why.

"Could you please sign some paperwork to that effect?" Joo Dee asked.

"Just pass it through the door."

"Oh, no. This must never leave my personal possession," she claimed brightly. "One does not just hand out such forms. Think of the havoc they could cause if improperly cataloged."

Zuko stared at the woman, his eyes blazing. Her eyes stared back, almost hollow. Almost like glass. And the grin never altered one whit. With a heave, Zuko tried to slam the door shut in her face. All he managed to do was catch her hand in the threshold. Any normal person would have yelped in pain at having one's finger's mashed. Not a sound from her. And not a warning before the door exploded out of its stone runners and crumpled in a corner, and she stepped into the room, her fists now closed and her stance lowering. That grin didn't change.

"I am afraid you are not welcome in Ba Sing Se," she said happily. So Zuko did the sensible thing, grabbed a stool which sat in the corner next to the door, and hit her in the face with it.

He'd tied her up, hand and foot, using the Tribesman's rope, and had been waiting like this ever since. Sharif had even managed to repair the door to working if aesthetically displeasing order in the hours which passed. But Zuko needed to be focused. He didn't know what to do at this point. It had come completely out of nowhere, and he was left somewhat at a loss. Uncle would know what to do... but Uncle wasn't here. He would have to sort this out when the others got back. After all, he had hit a woman in the face simply because she broke the door and creeped the hell out of him.

The entrance didn't come from the door, as Zuko expected, but rather from the room he and Toph shared, the pit they used to train the Avatar in his firebending. The first voices he heard coming up out of that tunnel were the two Tribesmen, but that they were talking in angry tones didn't bode well. Zuko turned to them, reaching behind him and snuffing the candles he was meditating before with a flick of his hand. There was another grind, as the 'lift' descended back down to pick up Toph. Why hadn't she come up with them?

"We've got a bit of a problem," Zuko said, as soon as the door opened.

"So do we," Sokka said. The grinding came back up, and two more exited the lift. One was a wild-haired Easterner with a pair of hook-swords on his back. The other was... oddly familiar. A teenaged girl who he couldn't quite place. Like he'd seen her in a previous lifetime or something. The lift descended once more. "It was a set up! Long Feng was just leading us around by the nose this entire time!"

"I could have told you that," the girl said with dry, raspy sardonism.

The lift ascended again, this time with two more Tribesmen upon it, one middle aged, the other spanning the gap. The older of the two looked concerned, but the younger looked like was ready to chew ore and spit nails. "And who are these people?" Zuko asked.

"So my son was right. The Prince is on your side," that Tribesman noted, his tones neutral.

"We don't lie about these things, Dad," Katara said. Ah. That explained it. Well, not really, but Zuko didn't care about any of the specifics.

"So if I've got this right, Long Feng," Zuko gestured toward Sokka, "used us as his personal hatchetmen to deal with... whoever you are, I assume," Zuko motioned toward the other yet-unnamed Tribesman. "And then tried to hunt you down like turtleducks once the dust was settling?" he finished.

"Zha Yu was right. That place was crawling with those green robed guys! I thought they were just bureaucrats!" Sokka thumped his own head. "I can't believe I was that big of an idiot!"

"Let's be fair, you're just a moderately sized idiot," Zuko said deadpan. Katara glared at him as a smirk came to his face. But strangely enough, her father burst into laughter at that. The laughter died quickly, though, when nobody else joined him. "So what else... Have we met before?" he broke off, turning to the pale eyed girl.

"A long time ago," she said simply. Zuko thought back. It only took a moment.

"Mai? I thought you were dead," Zuko noted. He gave a small smirk. "Been a while since the apple and the fountain, huh?"

"It has," she said. She then looked past him. "Who's that?"

"This," Zuko said, as the lift descended once again, turning to the bound, gagged, and hooded earthbender woman who tried to ambush him, "is a random stranger who smashed down my door and tried to earthbend at me. She won't answer any questions I give her. I think she was trying to kill me."

Zuko pulled the hood off of her head, and the eyes of the Tribesmen all grew wide. The lift raised again, and the all stared in shock, as the familiar footfalls of a bare-footed earthbender sounded in the back room. Full house, it seemed. Zuko, though was confused at the reaction he got to the intruder. "What?" he asked. "Do you know her?"

Toph's footfalls halted. Then sped up, and she burst through the wall rather than divert even as far as the doorway. She didn't even seal it up behind her, which had the misfortunate side-effect of covering the mind-wounded Si Wongi in dust and pebbles. Her eyes might well have been milky and useless, but they 'stared' in utter disbelief at the person whom Zuko was pinning to the floor under the weight of a foot. "...Sparky, what the hell are you doing with my mother tied up on the floor?"

The other Si Wongi lurched out of the room, looked at the girl on the floor, then back up at the others. They didn't even register her. "Your mother?" Zuko asked. He quickly reached down and pulled the gag from her mouth. She didn't scream for help. In fact, as soon as he did, an empty grin returned to her face. "You're her mother?" Zuko demanded.

"I do not know what you mean," she said in that same sing-song tone.

"Mom, what are you doing?" Toph asked.

"I am sorry. You must have me mistaken for somebody else," she said brightly.

"That's her. I know I recognize her," Katara said. "Sokka, Dad, help her into my room. I don't like this."

With that, the two Tribesmen, father and son, moved Toph's mother out of her 'sight'. Toph 'stared' after them with a look of horror and confusion on her features. "You alright?" Zuko asked.

She punched him in the kidney. "What do you think?" she shouted, before stomping after them. Zuko rubbed his side, and turned to the Si Wongi.

"Things went that badly?"

"You wouldn't believe," the Easterner said direly.

Zuko looked back. "Where's the other one? That other Si Wongi guy?"

Nila, holding up her unsteady form with one arm, just tilted her head forward a bit, and then shook it from side to side, very, very slowly.

The head lolled down, lacking even the strength to hold the neck upright. Two men stared at him, both of them in awe. "You have outdone yourself this time, Han," Long Feng admitted. "How soon do you think you can begin the processing?"

"It has already begun, Grand Secretariat," Han said with a nod. "He will be kept in a sedated state at all times. No point tempting fate, after all. We have affixed the jade collar, so he won't be giving us any surprises on that front either."

"Practice utmost discretion," Long Feng advised. "This might be the beginning of a new, glorious era for Ba Sing Se."

The head lolled back, showing a blue arrow, covered by a whisper of black stubble, and grey eyes staring glassily into the distance. The two Dai Li, master and servant, turned and left the Avatar to the drugs and the torments which they would use to break him, and then mold him into whatever they needed.

Far away, but still in the same compound, a tiny heartbeat started. It was something which fell well under the threshold of perception for the guard of the room, who never released his eyes from his duty. The heartbeat started at a lurch, then started to grow faster. Faster. Against the Dai Li's back, a thin green light began to shine from where an important prisoner's personal effects were locked, cataloged and filed away. It almost seemed to roll out of the pouch which contained it of its own volition. It was green, misshapen as though one were making a toe out of green stone. As the heart beat, that flicker of light pulsed. Then, with a barely audible thud, the light grew dark.

And, elsewhere still, green eyes opened.

I can only blame sickness and the immense size of the book 2 finale for how long it took to put this out there. To answer a question regarding the timeline, it's a canonical one season per book. Also, Azula's problems are a lot deeper than an arrogance about her abilities and her faith in the future. They are an increasing inability to discern reality. Which is neither Young!Zula nor Old!Zula's fault. Funny, how everybody keeps saying there's three !Zulas... right?

Except Sharif, who says there's four. But that's for later. Next chapter's also a fairly long one, but that's to be expected given the amount of players involved in the Lake Laogai infilitration.

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