Balance. Control. Peace.
Korra repeated her mantra as she meditated. She could feel all of her anxiety slowly slip away, like water flowing down a stream. She inhaled sharply through her nose, and gently exhaled through her mouth. She repeated her mantra once more. Balance. Control. Peace.
"Hypocrite."
The word pierced Korra's mind like a knife. Vivid images of blood engraved themselves in her head, and she could hear nothing but the sound of children's pained moans. Her eyes shot open, and her calm breaths became rigid. The early morning sun cast her shadow long across her bedroom. She had not been able to sleep since the incident at the school. Every time she closed her eyes, an avalanche of guilt overcame her. For the last three hours, she sat on her bed in nothing but her pajamas, trying to clear her thoughts.
The torment was relentless, overwhelming even. She hopped out of bed, and trudged to the bathroom. She went straight to the sink, and threw warm water onto her face. Korra looked at her reflection in the mirror; her eyes were bloodshot and heavy. She frowned and rubbed her thumb against her engagement ring, which still held its reflective sheen.
Korra needed a workout. It was still her favorite way to relieve stress, even if Tenzin disapproved. But then again, Tenzin was still gone, so she had nothing to be concerned about. Without changing clothes, Korra left her room, and quietly made her way through the temple to the courtyard. The island was mostly abandoned, leaving Korra to enjoy her barefooted walk along the stone field in peace.
Well, it was something close to peace. Her mind wandered to the events of the day before. Mako had called her, and told her that their best lead on the Hanzi Killer was dead. She wasn't so sure however. It was entirely possible that their best lead was perfectly fine, and just remained undiscovered. Korra was getting more suspicious of Illu Satori every day, and her almost-violent behavior yesterday practically confirmed her involvement.
By the time a dark cloud blocked out the morning sun, Korra had reached the training grounds. She did not bother stretching before beginning her first exercise. She walked to the punching bag lying in the far back corner (because she was the only person who ever got any use out of it), lifted it by its chains, strung it up high on a pole, and the delivered a swift roundhouse kick that nearly knocked it back to the ground.
She went to work efficiently. Every punch she threw was infused with the fury of watching everyone she cared about being hurt one-by-one. Even as her arms tired, she did not let up her assault on the punching bag. It took all of her rage that she had been rejecting for days. She was so caught up in her actions that she did not hear the footsteps of a young woman approaching.
"Korra, what are you doing out here?" Jinora asked from afar. The airbender had the good sense to get dressed before walking into the open, something which Korra lacked.
"Working out," the Avatar explained.
"Shouldn't you have taped up your hands beforehand? You're going to hurt yourself."
"I'll be fine." Korra struck the bag with a thud. She grunted, and drove a knee into the body. Jinora took a seat on the floor.
"Is something bothering you?" she asked worriedly.
"What isn't bothering me?"
"Fair point," Jinora admitted, "but I don't think this is the best way of handling it."
"Meditation wasn't cutting it. I just… I just really need to hit something."
"Something or someone?"
Korra grinded her teeth, and leaned against her foe. "You didn't see what happened at that school yesterday."
"You can't blame yourself for that."
"Yes, I can," Korra stated. "I told Masaki to fight back against those kids. I'm his role model. And all he ever learned from me was that violence solves problems."
"But that isn't your fault," said Jinora. "You tried to give self-esteem to a kid, and he took the lesson the wrong way. You said yourself that he has learning deficiency problems. I know that you would never try to teach a kid that killing a bully is the way to fix everything wrong in his life."
"Clearly, I already did," Korra said dismissively. "Whatever he picked up had to come from somewhere. Face it: we tend to solve a lot of our problems by hitting it."
"Hitting Kuvira didn't stop her. Reasoning with her did. You're struggling with an issue that isn't even real."
Korra slammed her fist into the bag. "Three kids almost died because of me! I saw the pain in their eyes! That's real, Jinora, about as real as you can get." She shoved the punching bag away. "I'm supposed to protect people. That's the one thing I'm meant to do. If I can't save a little kid… how am I supposed to save anyone?"
Jinora did not have an answer. She merely shrugged, and said honestly, "Because that's what you do."
Korra turned away from her young friend. Her eyes wandered to the bag, but she did not see it. All she saw was a corpse, bleeding and decaying as it hanged from the chains imbedded in its rotten flesh. Every time she blinked, the body changed; first it was Lin, and then Bolin, Opal, the children, Illu, Masaki, and an endless string of others. She blinked again, and there was Asami, strung up like a piece of meat, her head carved open and brains spilling out of her cracked skull. Her flawless skin was black and decrepit, and even while dead, she still smiled warmly at Korra, the woman who could not save her.
Korra yelled, and punted Asami in the head, sending her limb body flying off of the stand and exploding into pieces upon contact with the hard ground.
Asami tightened the bolt firmly into place, as the great engine groaned and cried in protest.
"Come on, baby," Asami muttered. "Please work this time."
She wiped the sweat from her brow, and reached over to the large lever that served as the machine's power switch. She tugged on it three times, and listened to the engine suddenly roar to life. She breathed a sigh of relief. Yet, her joy was short lives, as smoke began to quickly poor out of the pistons, and a loud screech echoed through the chamber. She hurriedly threw the emergency breaker, and the engine was hushed.
Asami kicked the damned machine. It wasn't like that would break it any further. For all she knew, since it was being so temperamental, maybe a kick would do it some good. Or maybe, she just wanted to get some frustration out, and kicking Shang in the head wasn't a readily available option. She had plenty of frustration: having most of the people she considered family be severely maimed, being told not to help by the woman she devoted herself to, having her company on the verge of bankruptcy, and having the airship break down for several days, causing her to be stuck with someone she couldn't stand. Redesigning all of Republic City's transportation lines was less stressful, and significantly easier, since at the very least, people decided to leave her alone.
Shang popped his head into the engine room. "That didn't sound good."
"I don't need the commentary," Asami growled. Shang shrugged and left. In one hour, he would show up again, say something stupid, and leave. Asami had every intention of getting the airship working before that happened.
What would really be helpful was if Varrick and Zhu Li would actually help out. It was the latter's idea to continue working on their project while Asami would get them back in the air. The Sato heiress initially agreed enthusiastically. After all, if they could get their work done, then their journey would be pointless. But now, after toiling for five straight hours in the humid, steamy engine room, Asami couldn't help but feel envious of the married couple. At least they had each other. She had not seen her better half in weeks.
Korra. She was going through so much. Asami made a mental note to give the Avatar a giant hug when she returned. They would both need it. However, every time she thought of comforting her closest friend, a stern voice pierced through her mind, and told her that she didn't deserve it.
There was no getting around the issue. The guilt was overwhelming. Asami could barely look herself in the mirror. She swore that when they next spoke, she would tell Korra the truth, about everything. And when the time came, she lied. Even after everything that had happened-even after Bolin and Opal got hurt-she lied right to her fiancé. It was disgraceful.
So it would remain a secret, for now. Until somebody else got hurt.
Asami refocused on her work. She examined the engine carefully, but could not seem to find anything wrong. She had already taken it apart and put it back together again twice, and she had scrubbed each individual plate, piston, and tube completely clean. Every wire that was so much as chipped was replaced, and she thoroughly checked every chain and gear of possible blockages and oiled them well. It was practically brand new, but for some reason, every time she turned it on, the smoke would start bellowing out, and it would screech and cry and complain about its seemingly invisible ailments.
"What's the matter with you?" Asami asked out loud. The engine held its silence. "Are you overheated?" She ran the back of her hand across the surface of the machine. Lukewarm at best. "Maybe grease is getting clogged in your transmission?" She cracked the engine open, yet everything inside seemed squeaky clean. "Are you just being a jerk?"
The machine groaned. Asami followed suit.
"This is ridiculous," she said. "You're not broken. I know you are not broken. There literally isn't anything wrong with you. I just need you to work for a few more days. Please."
When the machine refused to cooperate, Asami screamed, picked up a wrench, and struck the metal has hard as she possibly could. The side panel broke off, and cracked open on the floor. Asami was taken aback, and dropped her weapon in shock.
She knew something was wrong. She may have been strong compared to the average person, but she knew that she had nowhere the strength necessary to break a plate of steel clean in half. She knelt down by the broken material, and picked it up in her hand. It was unusually light compared to the metal that surrounded it in the mechanism. The texture was off, too; it felt more like plaster than a component of the ship. She examined it further, whipping out a flashlight from her toolbox and shining it on its brightest setting.
It only took a few moments for her to spot the wires.
The rubbery red wire extended partway out of the crack in the metal, and ran deep inside the structure, buried within two centimeters of hollow space. Pulling out a screw driver, Asami dug into the compartment, and tore it open with surprising ease. Inside, she saw more small wires and something even more peculiar-the broken remnants of a circuit board.
"What are you doing in there?" she asked, her curiosity piqued. She pulled out the remaining circuitry with a pair of tweezers, because the last thing she wanted was to be zapped by some broken electrical equipment. She turned it over, and pursed her lips. The technology was relatively new, and she was far from fully understanding it. However, she had enough knowledge of mechanics to know that there was no place for a circuit board within an airship engine. No wonder the ship went down. Someone had tampered with it.
Asami kept the circuit board held close as she left the engine room, and made her way to the front of the ship. The freshly circulated air felt cool on her moist skin, and she took a deep breath to fully appreciate how everything was not hot and sticky. Hopefully, Varrick knew something bout circuitry. After all, he was someone who liked to experiment with new tech, and she wouldn't put it past him to strap an experiment to the engine to plan for some new, money-making scheme. Naturally, she would prefer if he kept those experiments to himself, and when she had no personal stakes in the matter, but she was getting ahead of herself.
As she approached the main lounge, she heard two voices arguing up ahead, both male. She was hardly surprised. She could not hear the specifics, but imagined that the conversation was about something completely irrelevant. As it always was.
Asami turned the corner, and her eyes went wide. Two strange men were standing in the midst of their research, bickering to each other. Varrick was passed out on top of a pile of garbage. Zhu Li was slumped over one of the men's shoulder. On instinct, she dove back, and hid herself behind the corner of the door.
"It really hurts," one complained, his voice high and whiny and his head covered with curls.
"You're pathetic," the other complained right back, his voice grouchy and insincere and his hairline receding rapidly. "Look at how small she is. There's no way it hurts that bad."
"She kicked me right in the chin! I think she broke something."
"Once again: you're pathetic. Thank goodness for chloroform. Bison would have killed us if we let them slip out."
Asami was only half-paying attention to the conversation. Most of her focus was directed out the large windows to her left. Six custom-made cars were pulled up to the side of the airship. Multiple hooks and metal tethers were clamped to their backs, and were tightly attached to the flying vessel on all sides. She knew that there was some risk of piracy when flying over deserted Earth Kingdom territory, yet she had never fully been worried about the possibility. But with the engine broken, they were sitting ducks to any crook that roamed the barren wasteland. "Bison" must have been their leader, and he probably feinted seeing the sight of an Ingenious Enterprises airship parked in the middle of nowhere.
Asami needed to act quickly. As she planned her attack, the door to the captain's quarters above her opened, and she caught a small glimpse of the person who claimed her ship for their own. It was a woman, young, dark-skinned and rather short, who strolled confidently onto the balcony, long brown hair flowing past her shoulders, and an eyepatch placed over her left eye, wrapping around her forehead. In one hand, she dragged a screaming, irritated Shang; in the other, she held a large, black chest with a keyhole plated in silver on the front.
"You two finished up yet?" Bison asked with a sneer.
"Yeah, but it wasn't easy," the man with curly hair responded. "Turns out the lady knew how to fight. She kicked me—"
"Do I look like I care?" Bison groaned. "Really, do I look like I give a single fuck about your problems?"
"Actually, if I could interject," Shang said snidely. Bison gave a sharp tug on his arm, and he yelped in pain.
"Keep your mouth shut," she ordered. "What's in the box?"
"Something far too important for your insignificant mind to comprehend. Also, I would be very careful about how you hold onto that."
"Oh," Bison said with a smirk. "So you're saying it's something really delicate and valuable?"
"No. Technically, I'm implying that. You're jumping to conclusions."
"Yeesh, you never shut up." Bison grabbed Shang by the collar, and with the turn of her hip, she threw him over the railing, off the balcony, and onto the hard ground three meters below. Bison leapt down after him, nearly crushing his head with the sole of her boot on her landing. Shang moaned, and she kicked his wounds. Asami backed away carefully, keeping her focus on the pirate leader in front of her. Bison landed only a few feet away, but thankfully, she had not been noticed yet. The situation was getting out of hand. She needed to call for help. Chances were that some delivery ship was nearby. If only she could find a way to contact them.
And then, she felt the cold press of a blade against her neck from behind. A voice whispered, "Take another step, and I will rip your throat open."
Asami froze in place. The others quickly noticed her presence, and it was only a matter of seconds before her arms were restrained, and more men started rushing into the hallway. There was no way she could hold off that many people at once in her condition. Bison approached her, and clasped the engineer's face in her dark fingers.
"Thought you could get away, did you?" Bison taunted. "You aren't going anywhere we don't want you to. Hey, wait a minute… you look really familiar."
"I probably look like a lot of decent people you've robbed," Asami hissed.
"No, that's not it," Bison said with disdain. "Well, I guess it doesn't really matter. Do you know what's in this box?"
"I've never seen it before," Asami stated truthfully. Still, that did not mean she wasn't curious about its contents.
"Ugh, you're all useless." Bison pointed at several of her men. "You idiots: take the ladies down to the cargo hold and tie them up as best as you can. Also, I need one of you to bring that talkative guy to the bathroom, and make him suffer in the most creative manner you can think of."
"What about the other one?" asked the gruff grunt. Bison smiled.
"Oh, him? I'm taking him—and this little chest here—right to the captain's quarters. He has a cute face."
"You do realize that you aren't going to get away with this?" Asami said forcefully.
Bison rolled her eyes. "Wow. I've only heard that line about one hundred thousand times in my life. Hey, wanna hear something really original?"
Asami opened her mouth to respond, but before she could get a word out, Bison's foot connected with her temple, and she was knocked out cold.
Note: Part 2 coming soon! Stay tuned for more!