Danev
"All your lazy asses in your gear!" lieutenant Aozon yelled at us, pushing us to move quicker than we already were, which was frantic enough as it was.
We scrambled through the armory, gathering our gear to get it on us as quickly as we could. We knew what was coming–our final examination. It wasn't a matter of inter-squad combat anymore, but rather, the whole of Dragon platoon would be put toe to toe with Elephant platoon.
The lieutenant was already in his gear as he ordered us about to get our own equipped, meaning that, at the very least, he wasn't a hypocrite. He would be throwing himself into the metaphorical fire right alongside us, commanding men with whom the extent of his interactions with had been tormenting us. There wasn't much of a combined trust in his capabilities, but in each other on the other hand, that we had.
We'd been preparing for this moment for weeks now, even if we'd all been expecting it to come a few more weeks from now.
Doesn't matter, I decided as I slipped my boots over my feet, tucking in my pants into them to ensure nothing would slip while in the field. The park, I reminded myself. It's only a park. In spite of that though, it would be the test of our mettle–if we had what it took to actually be fighters.
"Had to be Elephant," Mahung groaned next to me as he checked the barrel of his hand cannon before slinging it around his back, no doubt upset at the thought of facing Rulaan of all lieutenants and Elephant platoon of all others.
"Just any other platoon," I said, not believing the words myself. Nor did they. I couldn't just throw around empty platitudes, not when the rest of us knew better. They need help to win this, so help them.
"Rulaan cares about his men," I said. "Won't throw them away on suicide charges like Aozon'll want us to do. He'll hold back, expect us to come to him."
"So we can't draw 'em out," Azao said, always the one to piece together a situation before any others. "They'll be entrenched."
"Because once again," Mahung complained. "We're on offense."
"Only the end of the world if we make it so," I retorted, not about to allow the platoon to believe all was already lost.
"Got an idea then?" Shozi asked, setting himself down on the same bench where I sat as I finally got my last boot on and reached over to my sword to quickly inspect its pommel before sheathing it by my side. I would have much preferred my dagger anyway, but even now, I could see it swinging aimlessly at lieutenant Aozon's side.
"Could run 'em dry in a war of attrition," I suggested, a renewed wave of inspiration inside of me to win this on our own terms rather than our commander's, throwing the idea out in the hopes that something would come of it.
"Pin 'em down and run them dry?" Shozi asked for confirmation.
It was hardly the best of plans, but it'd been where my mind had gone, and all we had at the moment. I nodded.
"Won't work," a new voice in the discussion picked up. At least, a relatively new voice. It was Mykezia, already in her full kit, no doubt just waiting for orders to be deployed. She approached where we were gathered, putting together the last of our equipment, and added onto her statement, saying, "Smart commander like him won't waste guns on returning fire. They know you won't be able to do anything just by using cannons from a distance. They'll hunker down and wait."
Damnit. I knew she was right, but that left us with one less idea now. "So got anything instead?" I asked, desperate for whatever she might have in mind, but she only shrugged.
I sighed, and continued. "Terrain doesn't afford us any high ground."
"Meaning we'll have no angle on Rulaan's defenders," Azao resumed.
Mykezia was the next to speak up, just barely getting, "Could always try-" before she was interrupted by the sound of Aozon's voice as he neared our ever-growing group.
"Explain the unnecessary chatter!" he demanded of us.
While the others may have shied away from him, this was a fight I was more than used to fighting, and so answered, undisturbed by his stupidity by this point, "Forming a plan of action, sir!"
"Your 'plan of action' is to follow my orders to the letter. Is that understood?"
"Yes, sir! If I may ask, what is your plan of action?"
That took him by surprise, and it took no time whatsoever to see that he had none. He stammered for a few seconds, but recovered quickly enough to answer, "You and the others will know when the time comes."
Perhaps he would have said something further in order to do a better job of cementing his authority, but there was a new entrance into the barracks–somebody of far greater rank.
"Commander on deck!" came Jame's voice from the entrance. Lieutenant Aozon quickly turned on his heel to greet the commander of the 114th Company, commander Yuzeh, practically hidden from us since training had begun and we'd been handed off to our platoon commanders.
We all stood at attention, the lieutenant especially whose entire place here seemed to be dependent on how well he could suck up to his superiors.
"At ease," commander Yuzeh said, turning towards our superior. In rank only of course. "Lieutenant. A word if you would?"
"Yes, sir! Here?"
"Nothing I have to tell you that your men shouldn't be around for. I've heard talk that you've been pitting your platoons against one another in a rather skewed fashion during training. Is this incorrect?"
What?
Naturally, the lieutenant's first instinct was to look back deeper into the armory at the lot of us, wondering just who it was that had snitched.
Wasn't me.
A few eyes turned towards me, the issues between us quite clear, but a simple shake of my head was enough to put them at ease. They trusted me. Aozon on the other hand…
"Don't look at them," Yuzeh interrupted. "I'm the one talking to you."
"Yes, sir," the lieutenant responded, his voice already a few octaves more noticeably feeble.
"What were your reasons for tormenting your men this way?" the captain asked Aozon.
"Sir, it wasn't torment. Odds are rarely ever in one's favor on the battlefield. I wanted to help prepare my men for situations where numbers weren't in your favor."
Bullshit.
A number of the men in the armory suppressed their chuckles while the captain himself scoffed, but otherwise remained stone-faced. "I'm glad you see things that way. Then you should agree with my decision to alter today's war game."
"Excuse me, captain?"
"You will no longer be facing Elephant Platoon only. You will be fighting against all other platoons, Ant through Elephant."
What?
"What?"
"You said it yourself, lieutenant," the captain said, now turning to leave after dropping what was unquestionably a bombshell on the entirety of Dragon platoon. "Odds won't be fair in the field. Best get used to it now."
And just like that, we were left alone, but now fighting a completely different battle than that which we'd been expecting.
Shit.
The door to the armory shut, lieutenant Aozon turned towards me, his disdain for me in light of what he thought must have been my interference glaringly obvious. I wondered if he might then and there draw my knife from his belt and slit my throat with it. Instead however, he did nothing of that sort, and so chose to spend the next five minutes prior to our deployment with himself.
All discussion we'd had prior had suddenly gone out the window. We attempted to conjure up some new plan in those minutes left to us before the time came, but could come up with nothing substantive. We were horrifically outnumbered, unprepared, and dismal about our chances. It was hardly a good combination.
Even the march to the battlefield park was a dreary one. Any attempts to discuss plans were promptly silenced by our lieutenant who seemed to believe that discipline was our one remaining asset.
It wasn't.
Where before there was anxious hope, there was only dread as we held our positions in the woods of Citadel's interior park, waiting. Whether we were waiting for the enemy to find and eliminate us or for lieutenant Aozon to issue our orders, who could know. We were still trying to determine which was more likely to happen first.
"Silver piece says we make first contact before the Lt says a word," Tosa wagered with Mahung, who impatiently was thumbing the pommel of his sword as he crouched down in the shrubs, hoping maybe it meant he wouldn't be the first one gunned down when we were found.
"Be patient," Jame urged. "He's thinking."
"You gonna kiss his ass?" Tosa asked. "Now of all times?"
"Winning here matters as much to him as us," Jame persisted.
"Doesn't make him any less a dumbass" Chejuh said from where he was crouched, hand cannon in his arms, affording the lieutenant a side eye that hardly connoted anything good.
None present exactly had high hopes. Eejun was in cover behind a tree keeping lookout on account of how skittish he was, hands shaking and prone to calling out the next moving squirrel as hostile. Shozi anxiously fingered the hilt of his sword, no doubt waiting anxiously for the chance to be the sword, dulled though it was due to training purposes, to use. And Mykezia brought up the idea of simply burning the park down in order to root out the enemy and render them easy targets.
I navigated through our lines, realizing that the only person who could put us into motion was our commander. I found him near the rear, crouched down and watching ahead, absent-mindedly, but no doubt trying to sell the appearance that he had some grand plan working its way in his head.
"Commander?" I said, catching his attention. He shot out of his daze, and immediately glared at me, no doubt realizing I understood how lost he was. "Do you have orders for the platoon?"
"Hold position," he said, the same thing he'd said ten minutes ago. "We wait for the enemy to come to us.
Damnit, Aozon! It was precisely the same order he'd first given us when we'd been deployed. The enemy would be sending scouts out by now. We weren't in a fortified position. They would easily find and overwhelm us.
"Sir, if I may?"
"What?"
"We're completely exposed right now. The enemy has the manpower to encircle us. If they know where we are, which they most likely do, they'll be able to take us down in a moment. We should move. Find more fortified ground."
Aozon was silent, but I had to persist.
"Sir,-"
"Fine," he cut me off, finally rising to a stand. "Dragon Platoon! Move out!"
Finally, we were on the move, which was an improvement over staying in one place, though not much of one. We were marching in ranks through the park, on the trail proper, completely and totally exposed.
I would have thought perhaps that Lieutenant Aozon was leading us to find a greater vantage point–somewhere with cover where we could put together a more sound strategy, but I recognized the points of interest we were passing by–a river crossing that would have made an enemy attack pointless, a hill that would have afforded us a view of much of the park, and a small rest area with fortifications we could use for cover, but we passed by them all.
I pointed out the last of these to the lieutenant, saying, "Sir. It may be a good idea for us to find somewhere with cover to put together a proper plan of engagement."
"First you want me to move, private Danev, and now you want us to stop again?" He was annoyed. That much was clear.
"I wanted us to find cover so we could put together a plan."
"We have a plan."
Is that so? "Mind sharing it with the rest of us, sir?" I was stepping out of line in talking to him that way, but I figured that the circumstances warranted the response.
"We'll engage the enemy."
That's it? I stopped in the formation, and a majority of the others behind me, stopping when I did, but I picked up the pace quickly enough. If there was one thing dumber than marching to our deaths, it was standing in the middle of it.
"We don't know where and how many of the enemy are waiting for us, lieutenant," I said, protesting this clearly suicidal maneuver.
"We'll handle it."
Is he trying to get us and himself eliminated? End this as soon as possible?
"Let me take squad 3 on a scouting run, sir," I said. "We can map out the enemies' positions, find a way to approach this carefully.
Lieutenant Aozon turned. "Quiet! There is no squad 3, and there is no 'you' as a commander. You were put in charge of nine other men from training purposes only! These are my men, and that includes you, so fall in line!"
It was no sooner than he'd finished saying exactly that when the first shot from an enemy hand cannon rang out. It must have been a miss as I heard the rattling of branches next to us before I heard the sound of the discharge from the cannon, and just like that, the enemy attack had begun.
The first cannon shot was followed by at least a dozen more, leaving us the only option of throwing ourselves to the ground to avoid the crossfire.
I splashed against the muddy trail, directly into a rather large puddle left by last night's rainfall as shots rang over me.
Rubber pellets though they were, getting hit still would hurt like a bitch, and it would mean an elimination at that.
Needless to say, nobody wanted to be hit.
"We should get to the treeline, sir!" I yelled at lieutenant Aozon over the sound of the next round of cannon fire as it sounded over us. "Their ranged attacks will be ineffective there!"
A single look at our commander was all it took to realize he was frozen in fear. Damnit!
"Dragon Platoon!" I called out. "To the treeline! Squad 1! Covering fire! On my command!"
I knew that whoever we were facing would be cycling back to their first found of fire soon, likely immediately prior to sending in infantry to take the rest of us out while we were down. Squad 1 would open fire immediately afterward before their second round could fire again, giving Dragon the time needed to retreat.
At least, that's what would have happened had Aozon not taken it open himself, scared shitless as he was to yell, "covering fire now!"
And immediately before their own fire too.
Squad 1 did as they were bid. They followed orders, the last thing they heard being to stand and provide covering fire when told to do so. So when Aozon gave the order prematurely, they did, and were gunned down too.
I saw Shozi, their commander, go down first, along with at least three other men under his command before Mano, of all people, took the initiative, and so raised his arms, bringing up a barricade of earth from the ground.
The gravel of the path was torn apart and roots snapped in half as the earth was dislodged from the ground surface, and moved in such a fashion so as to provide us cover, sparing the rest of his squad who otherwise would have been all but eliminated. I saw Mi take a rubber pellet to the back, clanging against his armor and knocking him to the ground with a violent thud that, though he would recover from, would leave a nasty mark.
He'd be dead if this was real, I realized, prompting me to rally Dragon's survivors to move as quickly as possible.
"Dragon!" I called out. "To the treeline!"
And much like the insects that scattered from beneath the ground that Mano lifted, so too did we flee from the scene of the action, leaving behind at least five eliminated soldiers of Dragon Platoon.
I ordered the men to make for the river, figuring we could use the north bank to entrench ourselves and catch our attackers in a line of fire as they emerged from the forest from the south and attempted to ford the stream, but instead, Aozon took leadership once again under his own word, and declared, "Hold position! Swords and shields!"
He wants us to hold here?
At the very least, he seemed to realize that using our cannons here would be ineffective, but he wasn't done. "Private Mano!" he continued. "If you use your earthbending again without my express order given, I will have you court-martialed! Is that-"
He didn't have time to finish making his threat before shots rang out once again from the enemy. However, given where we were in the forest, only one struck true, hitting Yam in the left arm. It was a crippling hit, though not an eliminating one. He was still in this, for now, but the enemy was coming.
"Sir," I said. "I would recommend fleeing further north across the river!"
"We hold here!" he declared, and so that would be our fate. "Shield wall!"
Dragon platoon formed into ranks best as we could, separated by the trees, and awaited the enemy assault. And so it came. They must have known they outnumbered us after their initial assault, having eliminated most of squad 1, and so their infantry barged into the walls.
I recognized Cat Platoon immediately as their soldiers clashed against our shield wall, and en masse too before we could fully form. The 2nd line of the wall, our spearmen, including myself, managed to score a few easy hits on Cat Platoon's soldiery before they found the gaps in our line quickly enough and broke through after we'd managed to thin their ranks by approximately a dozen soldiers.
The breach in our line was not one to be understated. Once it was there, our formation fell apart, and so the battle became turmoil.
Just as our shield wall fell apart, so too did their attack order upon first contact with the enemy. Lieutenant Aozon was nowhere to be found then, leaving me, for all intents and purposes, alone to hold the line with squad 3, 5, and the remnants of 1. 5 in particular, headed by Mykezia, acted rather admirably, helping my squad to fend off against Cat Platoon.
I saw Mykezia outmaneuver two soldiers from Cat as marked by their green armbands, taking them out with her sparring sword with ease while Mano overpowered one of their men, using him as a shield to absorb the sword of another Cat soldier before knocking him aside as well.
Realizing the damage we were doing, however, I quickly noticed Cat platoon's commander, Ruzen, giving the damning order to open fire. When it came in the first volley, I saw immediately three others go down, Penar included.
Finally, Aozon, from somewhere, revealed himself once again amidst the fighting to declare, "Return fire!"
Too late. The second volley was incoming.
"Get down!" I yelled out, prompting Dragon's soldiers to get to cover before the next volley came. So it went, taking down a few others. I was mid rise when another shot came. I thought for a second that the next volley had already come, extremely premature, but that hadn't been the case. I looked back towards our line to see Lieutenant Aozon stumble to the ground, clutching his chest.
He was hit. But it hadn't been the enemy's volley. A delayed shot?
It made no difference. It could have been a staggered firing pattern, extremely effective, but it meant one thing. They were reloading. It was our chance.
"Charge the enemy!" I yelled, and so we did. The call was enough to rally what was left of the platoon, roughly three dozen men or more to charge the enemy firing line. We tore right through them as they attempted to ditch their ranged weapons for close-fighting ones instead, though by no means quick enough.
I recognized well one of the soldiers I caught, Reesu, clashing my blade against his, able to draw it in time. He was a good kid, and I knew as much as I would always see him in the training room following most days of training, sparring with either me or another. As such, I knew his tricks. I knew that he relied too much on heavy strikes, placed an emphasis on charging forward with his right foot. I knew what to expect.
In spite of that though, he caught me by surprise more than once, perhaps realizing it was his own teacher he was fighting, now recalling every lesson I'd drilled into him. I would have been proud of him if he weren't theoretically trying to kill me.
I wanted to think that the grin I flashed at him as I finally gained the upper hand and put my sword to his throat was proof enough of my respect for how far he'd come. He smiled back, nodded, and I gave the obligatory tap against the side of his throat so as to mean, 'you're dead.'
The fighting had quieted down by then, having come to an apparent stop. A look around the field verified that the skirmish was over, and surprisingly so, with a Dragon Platoon victory. There was no joyous cheer to be had though, instead stuck where we were trying to catch our breath, scanning the surrounding intently so as to verify that it was in fact over.
Cat platoon had been wiped out, as indicated by the soldiers making the infamous walk of shame away from the battlefield, exchanging pleasantries as well as a few unpleasantries with the soldiers of Dragon who'd defeated them. Against all odds. Soldiers from either side who'd been struck either in ranged or close combat now left the field, for the most part able to put aside their grievances, chatting with one another, all with one exception–Aozon.
It was as though he still hadn't come to the realization that he'd been hit, that he was done, but the pain that he clutched at in his chest was reminder enough of that. The look he gave us wasn't one of hatred, but of utter defeat. 'I failed,' his eyes seemed to saying, lumping us immediately into that same state of despair as he as an equally defeated lieutenant Ruzen of Cat Platoon put an arm around his shoulder and escorted him away.
My eyes turned to look at those of Dragon Platoon who were left. I counted thirty five, in varying stages of catching their breath, coming to terms with the reality that the skirmish was over, and otherwise offloading their stress. One case that stuck out, however, was Chejuh. There he sat on the stump of a tree, reloading his hand cannon.
When the hell had he had the chance to fire? I wondered, recalling that it was squad 1 that'd provided covering fire, of which he was not a part. Yet there he was, loading a new hand cannon rubber ball into the barrel of the weapon, shoving it down along with the powder to replace a unit of ammunition that couldn't have been used during our retreat, nor during the skirmish in the woods as the enemy had been the ones to use the hand cannons exclusively. Right?
I remembered that one lone shot then–the one that'd taken out lieutenant Aozon.
For Spirits' sake, Aozon, I thought. What did you do?
And one last time, I turned to watch lieutenant Aozon slip away through the trees and away, and I couldn't help but almost feel bad for him. Almost.
'So what now?' soon became the question on everyone's minds. Though we had our equipment in order, and had numbers that weren't abysmal, we were hardly in an optimal shape.
"Nearly a third of our manpower down," Mahung complained. "And three more platoons' worth of men against us."
"Had worse odds than that before," I said as I passed by him to try and reassure him though I couldn't quite think of a time that matched that claim.
Penar meanwhile looked into the distance, fingering his pommel while muttering permission to be 'let at them,' to which I responded that he'd get his chance soon.
As I moved, it was impossible not to notice the morale of the Platoon was shaken, and that their grievances, surprisingly, had been directed to me, as well as the fact that there was a growing number of soldiers behind me.
So, when it was Jame that mentioned the dangers of being without a leader, and I answered in saying that we'd figured something else, I suppose that it should have been no surprise when Eejun, ever skittish and nervous about what was next, said, "What about you?"
What?
"What?" I asked.
"Already commanded Squad 3," Yam interjected. "You can get us through this."
Absolutely not. With these odds?
"You'll forget I was one of five other squad commanders." I quickly searched for an alternative option. Shozi was eliminated. Azao, though smart, was more just as capable of rallying a berserking komodo rhino as soldiers, which was to say, not a lot. And Mykezia… "What about Mykezia?" I threw out. "More experience in the army than any of us." I looked towards her. "Why don't you assume command?"
She scoffed. "Just because I'm a better soldier than you doesn't make me a better commander. You've already put up with bullshit odds before. No reason you can't do it again."
Have I?
I tried to think back to what she may have been referring to? Lieutenant Aozon's other war games that he'd set up for squad 3? But those odds, while theoretically equal, had been something else entirely. We were far less outnumbered then than now. Does she mean the slums? The war between the Hornets and the Rats? Does she remember how that ended up for everyone?
I shook my head. "Not for anything like this," I said. "We need to think things through. Choose the right person."
"Right then," Mykezia said. "Leave it to a vote. All in favor for following Danev's lead?"
And beginning with hers, at least twenty-five hands went up. I didn't bother counting them, only noticing that all those within my frame of sight had theirs raised.
Mykezia looked around, all too pleased with herself to notice that her bid had seemed to work. She turned back to me with a smirk on her face, and said, "Clear majority wins. Lead's yours, Danev."
Well.
Shit.
Clever as Mykezia may have thought that little trick of hers was, it didn't change anything about the fact that we were still grossly outnumbered.
It was the least I could do to organize us and ensure that we were all on the same page about our situation. There were no objections to me taking the lead, which I wasn't sure to be a good or a bad thing. A few contrary viewpoints would have been welcome if anything so I could have a chance to pin the responsibility on somebody else, but that wasn't happening.
So this is the way it is.
I figured our chief priority was getting a sense of just how bad off we were. With that in mind, I'd sent out scouts to get a sense of what we were up against. Penar and Shozi had gone. When they'd finally returned, Dragon had been reorganized to a somewhat respectable state. We'd gathered our wits, reorganized squads as squad 1 had been left in a poor state following first contact with the enemy.
I was relieved to see that the two of them hadn't been caught on their scouting missions as I hardly had the men to spare. And in addition to that, we now had a more complete image of what we were up against.
Elephant, Bat, and Ant platoon were all gathered with one another. They hadn't set out on their own as Cat platoon had, but had instead gathered to put together a fortified position near a hill overlook that acted as an observation platform from which much of the park could be seen. It was the perfect vantage point, only accessible truly from one angle–a frontal assault.
"Thirty-five men against one hundred and fifty," I muttered to myself, not exactly loving those numbers. Shit.
"So," Tosa said. "What were those 'bullshit odds' you talked about before?"
Nothing by comparison. "Ask Mykezia, not me," I responded, looking over to her as it'd been her to give such a supposed seal of approval for me.
She only shrugged innocently.
Nearly 5 to 1 odds. We couldn't take them on all at once, especially fortified as they were. Hell, we'd hardly been able to take out Cat Platoon on our own. Then again, it'd been an ambush and we, or rather, Lieutenant Aozon, had given up a perfect chance to draw them out into a more favorable position for us.
And then it clicked. That was the key. Draw them out.
"We'll draw them out," I said.
The soldiers of Dragon Platoon who were gathered around eyed me curiously, wondering just what it was that I had in mind.
"Penar," I said. "Shozi."
They stood at attention.
"You found good vantage points to spy on the enemy, right?"
"That's right," Shozi said. "Didn't even know we were watching them."
"Well, they're going to know now." I looked around for who seemed fitting for what I had in mind. Murao was a good shot. And then again, so was Chejuh. The best of us, in fact. Hell, he had to have been in order to eliminated his own lieutenant in the midst of the fighting as I suspected he'd done with Aozon. I called out the two of them, and they stood at attention as well. "You'll be joining them. I want sharpshooters to begin picking off their men. Aim for the officers if you can, but your job is to make sure that they don't feel safe in their entrenchments."
"Want us to draw them out?" Chejuh asked.
I nodded. "We'll draw those who come out into an ambush." I hardly imagined that they would all come. Some would, at most, but the majority would stay with their defenses. The key was, however, doing enough damage that they would consider not going after our shooters to be more costly than doing so. "You need to give them hell, make sure they pursue you."
And 4 simple gunners would hardly be enough for that. 4 hand cannons, at least, weren't. I whistled, motioning forward the hand cannoneers of our Platoon. "Dragon!" I said. "Hand cannons!"
Individually, they began unslinging them from their backs, and surrendering them our marksmen who'd be needing them more. I was hardly a fan of these guns, better for shock and awe value more than sharpshooting, but we needed to scare the enemy, and the guns would do the trick. If they were scared enough, they'd do whatever it took to put the threat down, including walking right into a trap.
Soon enough, Shozi, Chejuh, Penar, and Murao each had five to six hand cannons strapped around their backs, carrying quite the burden, but more than capable of doing some good.
They understood their orders, and as they trailed off, I put a hand on Shozi's shoulder, taking the rear, to tell him very simply just what it was that Dragon needed from them.
"Make one man feel like ten," I said.
Even past his helmet, it was impossibly not to notice his grin before he turned back around and headed towards his objective.
That left our part of the plan now–setting an ambush.
It was fortuitous that Azao seemed to have a good sense for these things. The two of us put our backs into organizing a proper ambush while, no more than a mile away, we could already hear the scattered gunfire of our skirmishers giving the enemy hell.
I counted the shots as we prepared until they stopped. Fourteen had gone out. I wondered how many had struck, how many hadn't. I wondered which of those were ours, and which were theirs. Did our non-eliminated men have any ammunition left? Were there any left who hadn't been eliminated?
These were the questions I knew we couldn't afford to ask. Not now as we lay in wait, relying on our trust in our allies to have done their jobs, and lead the enemy here.
Whether it was bowmen in trees, infantry waiting beneath shrubs, behind trees, and the like, we all anxiously awaited the potential arrival of the enemy.
More hand cannon shots. Closer now. I tensed up. I was sharing a foxhole with Mykezia, shrubbery planted over us so as to conceal our presence, though it wouldn't remain that way for long. I prayed this would actually work.
Soon enough, the approaching noises were no longer those of cannon shots, but footsteps. We held our fire, not knowing them to be of friends or foes, but finally, they came into view, far more Fire Nation soldiers than were those of our skirmishing party, and bearing black armbands rather than our red ones. Ant.
They moved deeper into place. I saw them blissfully move beyond the point where Tosa sat in the trees with a bow, Mano in the bushes with a mace, and Azao with three other Dragon soldiers ready to spring the trap.
They moved with haste, clearly still tracking down the skirmishers. So they weren't all hit. They kept their eyes high and low, somehow still missing our own marksmen, though it mattered little if they saw them now. With each step they took, they were deeper in our trap, but still I waited for that perfect moment, when not a single one of them could make it out.
I saw Aimuro step past my foxhole, his feet only inches away from my face, barely avoiding stepping on me. Soon after, it was Hilan, one of the Rats, clutching his hand cannon with his blade still sheathed.
They wouldn't be ready. Not by a long shot.
I felt Mykezia nudge me with her elbow, but it wasn't time. Not yet. They stepped deeper in, one after another, and then it presented itself. The perfect moment.
All it took was a single whistle from me, and the order to ambush them was given.
It was a massacre.
Nearly two scores of Dragon soldiers emerged from their respective ambush points with the synchronization of trained dancers, attacking all at once. They couldn't have been any less prepared if they'd been blindfolded and deafened.
Down they went in droves as our trap was sprung, their commander one of the first to go as he was taken out, to our surprise, by the returning skirmishers who not only had done their jobs to lure the enemy, but survive as well.
It ended as quickly as it'd started, and within five minutes, around fifty Fire Nation soldiers were leaving the field. Them forty-five, and us five, consisting of Shozi and Murao as well as some of our ambushers. A few Ant platoon soldiers had managed to escape, back to their own lines, but it made little difference. The result of the skirmish was clear. We had won. And by a long shot.
I wondered how our cheers sounded a little over a mile away to Elephant and Bat Platoons, wondering just who it was to be doing the cheering. I imagined they would find out soon enough from those who'd survived.
It was thirty against approximately a hundred now. I did the math as a number of us assessed the situation while the rest of Dragon gathered the equipment that'd been left behind by the soldiers that'd been eliminated. Not great odds, but-
"Better than before," Mykezia finished my thought. And there, I couldn't disagree.
They didn't look so good on paper though. Or rather, on the dirt where we'd drawn a representation of our situation with sticks. Pebbles signified troops, marked with different colors of chalk that we had on us as part of our kits, and one thing was clear. The blue and white pebbles vastly outnumbered the red ones.
"So they're at the top of this hill," I said, seeking confirmation from either Penar or Chejuh who had, in fact, been the ones to scout out the enemies' positions.
"That's right," Penar said. "Dug a line of foxholes pointed down the hill. Can't approach from behind because of the ridge."
"Could try scaling it," Mykezia suggested.
"No," Azao said, stepping in. "Too steep. They hear or see us coming, they'll rain fire down on us and we won't stand a chance."
"And of course a frontal assault would be suicide," Mahung said.
"If anyone could pull it off," Mykezia said. "We could."
I doubted that much. They had over three times our strength. There were miracles, and then there were suicides. Attempting such a frontal assault was bound to only result in the latter.
Leaving what other options?
We couldn't come from the front, we couldn't come from the rear. What did that leave us? We hardly had any other advantages. I looked across the soldiers of Dragon, wondering just what hat tricks we could pull from our sleeves. We could hardly burn down the entire forest as Mykezia would have suggested, and so my eyes passed over her, until settling on somebody else–Mano.
"We come from below then," I suggested.
That attracted a good deal of looks from the others, and I couldn't blame them. They hadn't yet heard what I had in mind. In fact, even I was still figuring that part out.
"Can't go up the hill," Azao said, as though needing to remind me. "They'll pick us off one at a time if we try and scale the rear end."
"Not 'below' that way," I said. "From beneath the ground."
That clarified nothing. Not to most of them at least, but when my eyes wandered over to Mano, it clicked to him.
His nerves immediately shot up. He knew what I was suggesting, and just how wrong it was. "We're not supposed to use our bending," he said.
That much was true. We weren't. This was public property, and we could hardly go about tearing apart the entire property in the name of our training. Something more subtle on the other hand, that could give us an edge, going beneath them perhaps. That we could do.
"We're not supposed to be fighting a force many times our size either," I said. "They threw the rules out the window first, and now, so do we."
That earned me a few chuckles and cheers from the soldiers who remained of Dragon.
"Mano will tunnel beneath their, take squad 1 with him, and come up behind the enemy to fuck them in the ass."
More chuckles, now louder, more confident.
We were still momentously outnumbered, but at least now, we had a plan, and it was a simple one at that.
It didn't take too long to find an alternative route around their hill. We encountered a few scouts from Bat Platoon who, fortunately, were dispatched rather easily. Then again, I supposed it was the scouts we didn't see that were the real danger.
It would hardly make too much of a difference. Frankly, the biggest danger was their combined force coming to strike us now and catch us off guard, but I supposed that the near total annihilation of Ant platoon had been enough to discourage such a move. The most they would gain from finding us here would be that they'd notice us poking around their hill, and may perhaps even believe we were attempting to scale from the rear. Whatever would further divide their men, the better for us
We split the platoon not too long after we believed the majority of their scouts dealt with. Mano knew his objective, and as the resident earthbender, the one who'd lead his squad beneath the hill and straight into the center of the enemies' fortification, the lead was his.
Even if his attack wouldn't be enough to completely eradicate the enemy, it'd be enough to divide them. Mano and his men understood their purpose, and their primary targets: the commanders of both platoons, Rulaan of Elephant and Raza of Bat, as well as other VIPs, namely Elephant's own earthbender, Gimor.
We knew our jobs, and so while Mano and squad 1 tunneled beneath Elephant and Bat, I led squad 2 and 3 as far as the woods could take us without being in visual range of the enemy. I saw where the ground noticeably inclined upwards.
Where we were positioned, still where the artificial woods were dense, down low so as to ensure we weren't seen, the enemy did not have visual on us. All that was left was waiting then for Mano to do his part.
It was no different than the ambush. We were all impatient, waiting for one team to do their part so that we may do ours. Waiting was the worst part of it all, not knowing if our comrades had done their jobs, if they'd succeeded, if we weren't compromised. We had no way of knowing, of keeping in touch, of verifying that the original plan was still a go. All we had was faith. Not that the spirits would look kindly on us, but in our comrades to do what had to be done.
I found that this was a faith I could have, if not the former. And so we waited, and of course, the moment came.
It didn't come precisely as we had hoped. If there was one thing I'd learned from the last few weeks, it was that no plan ever survived first contact with the enemy, and that proved to be the case here.
I would learn later over drinks of both celebration and grief that Elephant Platoon's Gimor, their earthbender, was more gifted than initially believed. He possessed a certain acute manner of enhancing his own senses through his bending abilities.
What this meant was that as Mano and his men had moved beneath the earth, they'd gone completely undetected to the entirety of Elephant and Bat platoon, with one exception–Gimor.
Stationed on the standard defensive line, something had felt off, the same way one might notice a flash of light in their peripheral vision, or a faint buzzing sound in what was otherwise silence.
He'd gotten the attention of his men slowly, not quite knowing just what it was he was feeling, but with the sole indicator of saying, "Something feels wrong."
No more of an explanation had been given though he'd tried. All he could do was stand from his foxhole, and begin pacing around their fortifications, slowly gathering attention that perhaps could have been the perfect time for us to strike. They were distracted, worried about something else going on, though we hadn't known quite what at the time.
To most of them, it perhaps seemed like a wild goose chase while they followed Gimor around, asking what was wrong only to be answered incessantly with, "Beneath us. Something's wrong. Beneath us."
Slowly, attention was taken away from him, considering it only a bout of madness, until Rulaan had stepped in.
Rulaan had respect that went past me. He had it of his platoon, the 114th company, and more or less every slum kid who couldn't help but feel a degree of respect for one of their own who not only had come out of those same slums years ago, but risen to where he was now at that. And it'd been his vote of confidence for Gimor that'd gotten Squad 2 of Elephant Platoon to lie in wait as this uncomfortable, 'off' sensation came ever closer.
And a few minutes later, when Mano and Squad 1 had emerged from the earth, the enemy had been waiting.
When we heard the sounds of fighting and hand cannons from where we'd been positioned, just beneath the hill, we'd realized that something had gone wrong. They knew we were there. How many they believed us to be on the other hand, they seemed to think it was all of us.
As such, they weren't watching down the hill. It wasn't the chance we were hoping for, but it was the one we'd been given.
We charged.
It was fortunate for us that they're attention had been placed elsewhere, as when I whistled, leading squads 2 and 3 up that fateful hill and over their battlements, it became clear that we would have been eliminated in seconds had we attempted to charge without any form of plan laid.
As it was, however, it was not until my sparring blade met Chuta's chest after practically tackling him to the ground that the defending Bat platoon realized what'd happened.
Their commander, Raza, previously occupied on watching Mano and squad 1 attempt to hold their ground while besieged in their tunnel by Elephant platoon, only turned after we had gotten through at least half a dozen of his men.
"Man your defense!" he screamed, turning Bat platoon's attention back towards us. They were otherwise occupied, distracted, unprepared, and it showed.
Ele of Bat platoon squealed as Mykezia slammed into her, forcing her to the ground before drawing a blade to her throat and metaphorically slitting her wrist before moving on to take down 2 other soldiers of the platoon in addition to Mori who I still struggled to consider a proper soldier as he'd only became aware of our arrival when her blade was at his back.
I myself found Dragon platoon to be making short work of Bat, taking out around at least five of them to every one of ours.
I caught sight of Raosem in the midst of the battle, one of the first new people I'd ever met for, and only had time to exchange a single glance with him before Yam's mace swing took him in the chestplate, forcing him to the ground with a thud that had to have been painful.
Though I pitied the old friend, I couldn't be distracted with him, or even with Bat platoon's commander, Raza, being overwhelmed and eliminated by our own men.
Mano and squad 1 had staged a counter attack by merit of Mano's earthbending, affording them with cover. In spite of that, however, they'd lost men, and would lose more if nothing was done as Gimor too had broken protocol, and now helped to tear apart the earth in order to get to Mano and his men.
He needs to go.
"Dragon!" I called out to what was left of squads 2 and 3, roughly a dozen men now. "On me!"
2 squads against a platoon. I would have said these were impossible odds, but just under 5 minutes ago, it'd been 3 squads against 2 platoons. I would beg to argue that a squad of strength in exchange for a platoon was a worthwhile trade.
Would I still feel that way if it came to the real deal?
I elected not to focus on that, and instead focused on the matter at hand–attacking Elephant platoon. And the primary targets were clear, Rulaan and Gimor. We launched our attack of roughly a dozen men in order to relieve squad one and hopefully catch Elephant between our lines, but Rulaan proved more observant than those we'd fought and beaten before today.
He noticed our approach, and it would never stop surprising me just how quickly his order of "Squad 5! Attention rear! Shield wall!" was followed to the letter.
I'd had Gimor in sight, and was ready to metaphorically plunge my blade into his heart before the rearmost line of their formation turned, raised their shields, and met us head on.
We launched ourselves against their shields, pushed back as though we were trash being swept away. Twice, thrice we pounded ourselves against their shields, hoping to make some form of headway before the next order came from Rulaan.
"Squad 2! Attention rear! Boar-q-pine!"
It was then that the shield wall opened up. It did not permit us entry, it did not serve as anything good for us, but rather, a gap for squad 2's spears to emerge and strike my men. 2 of our men went down, Tosa included among them as the rest reared away in time, but every strength can also be a weakness.
"Advance!" Rulaan called out to his men, and so squad 1 and 2 stepped forward, but not in synch. Squad 1's shield wall advanced quicker, and so when Rulaan gave the order to strike again, there was a gap between squad 1 and 2. The spears did not go out quite as far, and in that time of opening, and I knew it was a chance that couldn't be missed.
"Go!" I yelled at Mykezia, who knew immediately what I planned, seized the opportunity, cut through the tip of the spear lunged her way, and shoved through.
Two shieldmen were downed with a single swing of her sword, and I knew this was an opportunity that couldn't be missed.
"Dragon!" I called out, already charging in beside her. "On me!"
We were in. What was left of my contingent of soldiers poured into the opening as well, and we were at Elephant's throat.
A number of us stayed behind to dispatch the spearmen who were ineffective at short range, and the shield bearers who didn't even have offensive weapons on them. Mykezia and I on the other hand, we sped ahead. We had no idea how much of squad 1 was left, but we could be certain that there would be none if we delayed any longer and Gimor had his way.
The poor earthbender didn't even notice we'd broken through until my sword met his back, and he went down. Somebody else did notice, however–Rulaan. Even as Mykezia pushed through soldier after soldier to get to him, she wasn't quick enough, her swing blocked by Eraim's sword just inches from Rulaan who now turned, and stood witness to her being struck by Zihe's blade.
It knocked her to the ground, and I was alone in my charge. Shit.
In front of me, even with Gimor gone, squad 1 had already been severely reduced in strength, including even Mano's downfall. Behind me, what was left of squad 2 and 3 had indeed managed to take down Elephant platoon's 1st and 2nd squads, but had been brought down to only five.
In front of me, squads three, four, and five of Elephant platoon, not at full strength, but still more than us, still stood. There was a brief moment then that couldn't have lasted more than a few seconds. We stared each other down, and I imagined that anywhere else–with truly sharpened blades to my throat held by honest enemies, this would have been the time to surrender, before the killing had become real.
But I'd never known a surrender made on the battlefield to be anything more than making yourself easier to kill. The slums had taught me that much.
So, we fought.
And we lost.
We put up a hell of a fight though.
I still had the bruise on the side of my head where Rulaan's blade had struck me. He'd joined the fighting right alongside his men, which was more than I ever could have said for my own lieutenant. I'd laid on the ground, watching as those remaining of my platoon fought their last stands before being brought down in time too.
We'd spilled our share of metaphorical blood too though.
When it was over, there were only nine soldiers of Elephant platoon left.
Four platoons of strength against us, and we'd come this far.
So, even as I lay on the ground, bleeding from a blunt force cut to my temple, I couldn't help but smile even when the last of our men was knocked down and the war game was over. Just a few steps away from doing the impossible.
Not bad for a single platoon.
I wished that sentiment could have been shared, however. Even as those of us across the 114th company who hadn't been left in a poor enough state to require medical attention all now shared the same mess hall, there was an unmistakable air of tension that reigned supreme.
It wasn't a tension that was directed towards one another, however. Even while the victors of the war game celebrated and those who'd been defeated wallowed in misery, there was a shared understanding that it all had been bullshit. Even the pride of the victors was muddied by the fact that they'd so nearly come to complete and total defeat.
There was no shortage of soldiers and even commanders of other platoons who'd come over to Dragon platoon's table to either congratulate us or commiserate in how unfair the matchup had been.
Though I thanked those who did stop by, it was clear that the majority of Dragon's men were hardly in the mood to hear such praise when all they could feel now was the anger in knowing that we would have won a hundred times over against any one of these platoons individually, but we'd lost our chance for victory and prestige because lieutenant Aozon's indiscretions had spread further than they ever should have.
And that selfsame lieutenant was nowhere to be seen now. The commanders of all other platoons ate with their men, but not ours.
The solders of Dragon platoon were left to themselves instead. Shozi, Penar, Tosa, and a good deal of others were recovering from wounds in the medical wing. Chejuh sat at the table cursing the names of Aozon, Yuzeh, Eemusan, all the way up to Fire Lord Azulon. Mykezia, on the other hand, was quiet. She'd seemed to earnestly believe that we could beat all odds and that she could prove herself above the rest. The blow to her confidence was not to be understated. There was only so much good that the respect and acknowledgement of the others could do, especially when we all felt that we'd been cheated.
Granted, at the time, we hadn't quite known what'd been waiting for us.
At around the time that our meal period was to come to an end, the door to the mess hall opened, and greeting us at the entrance in similar a fashion to this morning was Captain Yuzeh accompanied by two Fire Nation soldiers–firebenders at that.
Naturally, our initial reaction to his arrival was hardly a pleasant one. Even the soldiers of the winning side seemed to be greatly angered by his arrival. We'd all been expecting a fair fight, and whether we'd been cheated of a true battle, been thrown against overwhelming odds, or been refused the chance to do things as they were meant to be, all were holding a personal grudge by the looks of it. And since Jame wasn't here, Fire Nation command was fresh out of people who would take their shit and eat it up.
"Congratulations on your battle today, 114th," he said, though few of us felt in the same position to feel rewarded by anything that'd happened today. "As I'm sure you have more than noticed," he resumed, "today's war game was not what you had been anticipating. Rules of engagement were broken, protocol was disobeyed, and you have all made a complete mockery of the regulations we had set out for you."
There was no lack of things I'm sure he could have been referring to, whether me reorganizing the platoon, us using bending, destroying a good chunk of the park, or something we may possibly have missed. So that explains him being here. Kick us while we're already down and now enact punishment.
"But it was me who broke the rules first," he said.
Wait? My head shot up to look at him, confused. What?
"There can be no preparing for what you will face on the field. There are no rules out there, no favorable odds, and no gloves to take off. You used the tools at your disposal to win, and did what needed to be done. None of you will be penalized."
The air in the groom became visibly less tense, though it was hardly relaxed, all of us still bearing a degree of resentment for what Yuzeh had done in the first place to create such an issue.
"You may be more happy to know," Captain Yuzeh said, continuing his train of thought. "That this war game has counted as your final exam for all members of the 114th. The 122nd will do things their way, but as far as I'm concerned, you've all gone through your definitive training today."
That earned a few soft breaths of relaxation and even scattered cheers across the room. At the very least, this was over and done with. We were through.
"The 122nd would also insist on waiting until the end of the week to announce results of combat performance examinations as completed today. Any changes in squad sergeants will be posted at your barracks by the end of today so you need not wait, but I would like to announce the promotions for staff sergeants."
Captain Yuzeh needn't a list, but rather spoke out the names, clearly having just come to these decisions only a few minutes ago.
"Ant platoon," he began. "Staff sergeant Hilan." Cheers ensued. "Bat platoon, staff sergeant Homun." More cheers. "Cat platoon, staff sergeant Reesu." And more. "Dragon platoon," he said soon after, and even I had to admit that I held my breath. "Staff sergeant Danev."
If there had been cheers for the soldiers before, of which even I'd been part of, then now it wasn't cheers, but a standing ovation. I felt heat rise to my face as not only was the announcement of my name applauded, but the soldiers of the company rose from their desks as well to deliver unto me what they must have thought appropriate. It didn't take long for them to even begin chanting my name to the point that it was almost impossible to hear Holan be announced as Elephant platoon's staff sergeant.
Judging by the way his head turned at the sound of his name, he'd heard, but he didn't care, yelling my name over me even as I tried to congratulate him for his own promotion. There was nothing I could do, they were locked in their chant to the point that even Captain Yuzeh viewed his work as done, and so left the mess hall.
The chant of "Da-nev, Da-nev, Da-nev" continued for quite some time into the minutes until it was that I finally managed to, by merit of my facial expressions and hand movements, get the company to simmer down.
Even still, their eyes were on me.
What the hell are they expecting? I wondered. A speech?
The more I looked at them, the more it seemed to be the exact case. The problem was, however, that I never was one much for speechcraft. That was more Fluke's specialty, able to talk his way out from the noose on many an occasion, both literal and metaphorical.
I wouldn't bother fumbling with words, or poetry, or something melodramatic when all that was needed was action, a show of what I wanted to say.
And so I picked up a glass from my table, raised it to the room and to the company of soldiers who, today of all days, had just for a single instance began to feel like home, like family. This wasn't about me, my platoon, or any one individual or unit. This was about us.
"To the 114th!' I called out, and roughly two hundred and forty-nine other hands raised, with or without drinks in hand, and called out in far from perfect, but still stunning unity the cry that would be ours for months to come on the battlefield:
"To the Hundred and Fourteenth!"
Fluke
The tank shook violently as it fired its payload.
"Primary hook fired," Gan announced to the crew, right on target in dictating where the hundred pound grappling hook would fire.
I looked ahead as was my job to assess the validity of the strike. It'd perfectly impaled its target, stacked barrels of hair roughly a quarter mile away.
"Target hit," I confirmed.
I heard a muffled "yes" from Gunji behind me upon hearing that, but we weren't done quite yet.
"Detach hook," Dojai said. "Prepare auxiliary projectile."
That was Gunij's job. He'd gotten quite a hang of it these last few weeks, the intricate mechanisms no longer confusing him quite as much as they once had when first we'd started. I allowed myself a look as he went about his process, his realm of speciality far different from mine, but nonetheless interesting to me.
Never know if I might need to use one of these to get out of here, I considered as I watched Gunji pull the cord that would detach the chain linked to the steel grappling hook fired a few hundred yards away.
The tank rocked back once it was released with the pressure of the hook now freed from us. The tank's brakes had been engaged and its support clamps lowered to ensure that we wouldn't accidentally be dragged forward against our will, meaning that the recoil of letting go wasn't nearly as much as it could have been otherwise.
Still, however, it was a jolt, and it took Gunji a moment to regain his bearings and pull the lever that would load the auxiliary backup hook into the firing cylinder.
We could hear the cranking mechanisms of the tank as the new hook was loaded, as well as the satisfying click once it was prepped for firing, the chain attached.
"Auxiliary hook loaded!" Gunji announced.
"Set sights on target 2," Daoji ordered.
I was up.
I turned away from Gunji's tasks and back towards my own. My firing bay was not a complicated one. I was seated in a cylindrical subsection of the tank in the very center that was capable of moving independently by merit of two pedals that I could step on to spin either left or right.
Even strapped into a chair as I was in the incident that the tank flipped over and we needed to spin ourselves rightside up again, I had an optimal view through the firing port of the gunner bay. Of course, that'd been with some adjustment of my seat to raise it just right, but all the same, I was able to comfortable look below the firing port through a lens that contained a grid overlay with degree values and a crosshair similar to that which might be fixed to a crossbow to improve the aim of one wielding it.
The crosshair pointed wherever my rotating turret did, but the purpose of it was not merely to align with a target, but to align with both a target, and an iron sight transfixed to the bow of the tank that would indicate that its grappling hook was properly trained on a target.
I trained my sights on the iron sight, marked at 0, and counted the increments to the target.
As it was now, it was off by a few degrees to the left.
"18.5 degrees starboard!" I called out, enabling Gan, our pilot, to do his job.
"Disengage breaks and supports!" Daoji called out to Gunji, needing to be done before we could even think about moving lest we damage our vessel.
I didn't turn back now to look over at Gunji, knowing my job was one I couldn't lay back on now, though I did indeed hear the sound of the brakes and supports raise.
"Confirming 18.5 degrees starboard?" Gan asked, wanting to make sure he was on target. That was no longer the case though. The tank had shifted from releasing the brakes, as had the value needing to be turned.
"Correction. 18 degrees starboard."
"Turning starboard."
The tank moved as per his demands, and so too did I adjust my turret. We were aligned.
"Target locked," I announced.
"Brace for fire," Daoji said, ordering Gunji to re-engage the brakes and support.
Gunji did just that as he announced, "Bracing!" and before long, we were set. "Prepped to fire."
"Fire!"
"Firing!" announced Gan, and the tank shook once more.
Another direct hit, and a proud "whoop" from Gunji that was far from military standard, but acceptable given the circumstances. It was hardly the same trip through the meat grinder that the infantry companies were being given, especially the 114th if the stories about their final war game had been anything close to true, but all the same, it'd been a day complete with stress and anxiety as we'd spent the last four consecutive hours running our tank through every stress test, practice run, and drill maintenance possible, and now finally, we were done.
We could hardly afford to turn our tanks against one another with the clear knowledge of the damage that would be done, but what we'd done now will have to suffice.
When the hook was once again disconnected and severed from our tank, the order was given for us to abandon the vehicle.
"Should we clean up 'round here?" Gunji asked in relation to both the tank that'd been left vacant as well as the grappling hooks that still sat lodged in their respective hay bale targets.
Dojai waved aside the concern though, merely saying, "Got maintenance here for a reason. They'll take care of it."
None of us minded nor particularly cared. We were just glad to be done for the day. The weekend, our last weekend here was just hours away, and on the monday after, deployment, made all the more clear to us as Gan, Gunji, and I walked away only to be given a farewell from Dojai in the form of, "See you monday!"
I'm running out of time.
It was difficult not to be constantly thinking about just how little time left I had to get out of here as I sat in the mess with the rest of the 62nd armored, unable to respond to even the slightest of requests to sit by me, tolerating the presence of those around me rather than actively enjoying them.
I could hardly focus, much less eat on account of the overwhelming dread that fogged my mind knowing that in 3 days time, I would either be gone, as far away from the Fire Nation as possible, or I would be on my way to fight at Ba Sing Se, something Raava described as no way back from.
I had to leave, and I was quickly running out of ways to do so. All the chance there was for me to do so was over this next weekend. Danev had already arranged for him, Aden, and me to join together for a meal in the city as part of our final 'shore-leave' so to speak before we were sent to the front.
I knew I would have to say something, do something, find some way to get out of here before it was too late.
As much as a part of me wanted right now to drop from my bunk and run, or at the very least wake Danev and maybe Aden and spill my guts about everything, I knew I had to wait. I hardly slept that night, in fully awakened awareness of each and every agonizing minute that passed.
I could only pray to the spirit who no longer watched over me with the passing of the solstice that this all would be worth it in the end.
A part of me hated how much of a normal day Danev was treating it as while we walked through the inner city en route for a restaurant he claimed that we needed to try before we left. How is he talking about leaving this casually? He know what comes next, right?
Of course he did; he was just a few degrees smarter than I was. He'd already talked time and time again about how leaving the city itself to try and escape was suicide. It couldn't be done, but what other choice did I have?
I'd had those same warnings parading through my head every night for the last few weeks to believe I had any other option. Jeong Jeong sure as hell hadn't given me any others. As for those I could trust, he was the only one Raava had told me to seek, claiming I could trust no others.
Bullshit.
I knew Danev. I'd known him for years. I knew where his loyalties lay, and I knew that even though now he bragged about the stripes of a staff sergeant that he wore on his left shoulder as we waited for our food to arrive, there was more to it than that. I couldn't say that he hated the Fire Nation with the same white hot rage that Aden did, but he knew we couldn't stay.
I doubted anything there had changed.
And Aden, he was ready to jump ship at the first moment available, and maybe that wasn't until after we were gone, but a part of me knew that by then, it would be too late. It had to be before we left. Raava had told me that much. We had to get out.
"Fire Nation has us moving out Monday," I said over a bowl of noodles that I was having a difficult time stomaching, feeling the need to remind those present of the simple reality that faced us all.
Danev, to my right, said nothing immediately, silently conceding to the perceived reality of the unavoidable.
Aden on the other hand, across from Danev and me, he remained true to what I knew of him, scoffing before saying, "Like hell we're going along with them. Should ditch 'em here and now 'fore they throw us into their dumbass war."
"And do what?" Danev asked. "Run bright back to the slums?"
"Why not?" Aden asked. "Starting to grow attached to our captors? Hard on for that nurse you keep on ogling?"
"Never said that," Danev said, shutting his eyes. "We've been over this before. Leaving the inner city is impossible."
And besides. There's nothing left for us in the slums. I didn't say that of course, for obvious reasons, but I prayed that the optimal solution for me here could be found, that Aden and Danev could find an impasse in realizing that we needed to get out, but not back to the slums of all places.
"Doesn't have to be," Aden said, pounding lightly on the table with emphasis. "Done some poking around. Found a way we can get through the breach."
"They sealed it," Danev said, obviously referring to the one we'd used months ago to first get inside the inner city and steal from the Fire Nation.
"Different one. Remember the one Ramur would use to sneak his shit inside the inner city back in the day? It's still open. There's a gap in the Fire Nation's patrols. Can use it to get the fuck out of here."
Is he serious? The presence of such a gap was no doubt a good thing, but taking us back to the slums. Was that any better?
Danev shook his head all the while Aden was saying this, waiting for his turn to speak. "They'll come looking for us," Danev said. "They'll know we're missing. And they'll find us. No. We're not leaving back to the slums."
Aden scoffed. "You're worried about the Fire Nation? Fuck that! Let 'em come." He was speaking loudly. Too loud for comfort, and he wasn't done. "We have Fluke. We got a firebender. Hornets never had that before!"
"Aden," Danev warned, but the strangely enthusiastic Hornet continued.
"Why would the Fire Nation care anyway? You told me yourselves that the Rats were beat, right? We killed those dirt eater lovers. Why wouldn't they just leave us be? We're not that fucking important to them, yeah?"
He was getting desperate. If it was at the point that he was talking about actually being left alone by the Fire Nation rather than actively going to war with them, then it meant Aden was running out of choices in terms of how to make his appeal.
"And we have the others," Aden continued, his voice softening. "Ladle, Rulih, Chote, Riu, the Hornets."
The names of dead men.
My head hung low. Danev was better at hiding that I was, namely as there was only one of us who saw the reason to still keep this all hidden from Aden. He was our friend. He deserved to know.
To know everything.
The knot in my stomach tightened. I knew what that would entail, but I couldn't say nothing; I couldn't go on letting him believe the Hornets were out there still waiting for him.
"Aden," I said, drawing his attention towards me rather than Danev, who still focused more on his meal rather than the discussion he would have liked to believe over. "The Hornets aren't waiting for us back in the slums."
That got Danev's attention. His attention turned in the span of a split second from his food to me. "Fluke," he warned, but I ignored him. I needed to do this.
"What're you talking about, Fluke?" he asked.
"The Hornets are gone, Aden."
"What do you mean 'gone'?"
Damnit, Fluke. Just say it.
"They're dead," I said, little more than a whimper.
Aden said nothing. Not right away. He appeared aghast, as though he couldn't believe what he was saying.
"Fluke," Danev said again. "Stop."
I shook my head, right in time for Aden to ask, "What are you talking about? Why are you saying that? How do you know?! You fuckers've been here just as long as I have. How do you know?"
"That's not true," I said. "After you were knocked out, and Meeko…died, they made a deal with us. Said they wouldn't kill the rest of us if we killed the Rats for them."
"You already told me this shit! What the fuck's this got to do with the Hornets being dead?"
"For fuck's sake, Fluke. He doesn't need to hear this."
"Shut up, Danev," Aden snapped. Then back to me. "Talk."
Then it was to the part he hadn't heard. That which'd been omitted. "The deal was that when the war was over, the Hornets would become their soldiers. We agreed. They sent us back to the Hornets, and we fought the Rats. Won too. Destroyed their supply depots, burned their territory to the ground, trapped them in the Hive and blew the place to hell, and even caught them in their Den. We won."
"So what the fuck happened?!" Aden yelled. "Fucking ash makers go back on their word?! Kill them anyway?! Take you two as hostages?!"
I shook my head.
"Fluke!" Danev yelled louder than even Aden had, grabbing some scattered attention from around the restaurant. He noticed just that, and so lowered his voice, but by no means lost any vigor in what he said next. "Don't."
But it was too late. I'd made my choice
I shut my eyes and shook my head. I couldn't stop now. I needed to do this. For Aden, but more than anything, for myself. I was living too many lies already. I didn't need this to be one of them.
I look back at the boy in question who, for the first time in the years I've known him, registered more confusion than white anger. I knew none of this would go over well, but there was no other way. I had to do this.
"I made a deal with the Rats," I said. "I…," my voice cracked. "I still had friends there that I didn't want to die, and I wanted to end this war. I wanted what was left of them to live, and for us to be done with it all. I told the Rats that the Fire Nation was taking us as soldiers, and that they could leave."
The next part was the hardest. I took a breath while Aden breathed heavily, the anger in his eyes expanding, his fuse shortening with every second, just about ready to blow, but I needed to finish this.
"Janick killed Miro. Blamed it on us, got the Rats to attack us while we were going in. Killed almost everyone."
I finished, and there was only silence, an awestruck Aden looking at me with a look I couldn't quite put my finger on.
He turned to Danev first, saying, "You lied to me."
Danev said nothing, and then it was my turn again.
"The Hornets are dead. And all because you couldn't let good things be. Because you still had 'friends' with the Rats?"
I didn't have anything to say. No defense, no appeal. I knew he was right. That couldn't be taken away, though Danev tried. "It was my fault as much as his. Was me who made the deal, me who-"
But Aden didn't care. He'd chosen on who to place the weight of what'd been done, and for once, he was right about something. I didn't anticipate how far he would go though. Not as he said finally, 'Because you're a fucking rat!" and drew his dagger from his belt, lunging over the table to strike at me.
It was but a flash in the time that it happened, and I still couldn't quite understand how Danev had risen from his seat in that single fraction of a moment, disarmed Aden using a technique that vaguely resembled my own use of Shaolin, and threw him down to the table, knocking him out in a single moment as Aden's head hit the surface.
Our food fell from the table amidst the commotion, and the attention of the restaurant had been drawn to us while I still leaned back, eyes wide, trying to process just what the hell had happened.
The dagger fell from Aden's grasp and fell to the ground with a metallic clang. He was knocked out cold, and because of me.
What the hell did I do?
"Danev, I-"
"Get to the barracks!" he barked. "I'll take care of him."
"I didn't mean to-"
"Go!"
There would be no arguing it.
Slowly, I stood, careful to avoid the mess that'd been created from our skirmish while the owner of the establishment emerged from his back room and began immediately barking complaints at Danev who already entered his mode of negotiation and mediation.
I slipped past the raging owner as well as the awestruck audience of what'd happened, and began my trek back towards the military complex without a word.
I should have kept my damned mouth shut.
