[AN] Quick interlude before things pick up a whole lot.

Love, love, love all the great reviews (and enjoying the hell out of the theories and suppositions).

I will say to CrackedShot in particular that Bolin's goggles were heavily influenced by Molly Millions' lenses from Burning Chrome/Neuromancer (which if you haven't read either of those, go do so now). They're not EXACTLY like them, but definitely the biggest influence.

Beyond that, I will say no more... (for now)

Amaterazu and 'Roar, your thoughts on the dynamics of Raava-Bolin-Asami are way fun, hope you enjoy where things go...

Whatever Asami was worried about had to wait as Ying ran in to inform us that I had been summoned to base.

"I'll call you as soon as I know anything," I promise as I kiss her on my way out the door.

At the base I find our fighters partially disassembled and tons of crates stamped with Future Industries Defense Division.

I recognize Saikhan's assistant, a burly man who had served as quartermaster for the Corps training school for decades before following his Captain into the private sector. He's holding a clipboard while Kuvira scribbles something on it, then he mock salutes her before departing. She waves him away with a raised middle finger and he bellows a laugh as the truck pulls away.

Wei and Wing are ripping open crates with a glee that most people save for birthdays, but I suppose if you're a flight mechanic you have unusual delights.

"About time you got here, Avatar!" Kuvira shouts, noticing me watching. "Time to get your ass to work!"

I groan and shuck my jacket. "I thought rank would have its privileges," I grumble.

Kuvira smirks. "This is what you get for running a top secret mission. Wee and Mad oversaw the first shipment by themselves, so I made them go catch a few hours of sleep."

I snort in disbelief.

Kuvira grins in response. "Yeah, well, I made them swear to sleep in separate beds because they only get six hours to rest before they have to come back."

"Hope spring eternal."

Wei slings a box at me. "Less talking, more carrying!"

"Ow, dammit!"

—

"Admiral on the deck!"

I look up in surprise as Izumi strides into the hanger. I'm unable to come to attention as I'm currently holding a regulator in place for Wing, currently perched awkwardly inside the engine compartment of one of our fighters.

"Don't bother," Izumi says tiredly, waving away her adjutant as well as the various salutes being tossed at her. Her usually pristine uniform is slightly rumpled, and there are dark circles under her eyes. She lowers herself onto a nearby stool and peers up at Wing. He finishes wrenching it into place and gives us a thumbs up.

"Slick as shit, fresh from Future Industries." At Izumi's inquiring glance he clarifies. "New control systems that make the fighter both faster and more responsive, and a new more powerful evasion system."

"Saikhan and the Doc sending their love," Kuvira drawls as she appears with Wei from the other side of the fuselage. "These babies are going to be absolutely grim in a dogfight now."

Izumi nods. "What about the transport ship?"

Kuvira looks gleeful. "Doc's got one ready for us, latest model. Almost as fast as the fighters in a straight line, though obviously can't turn that well. New mounted gun array as well."

"It's a good thing she and Saikhan are coming with us though," Wei pipes up from where he's leaning against the landing gear. "Nobody in the Corps is trained to work on these new systems yet and some of that stuff is tricky—" He pauses as he sees my face. "Um…"

I try to relax my fists, which were now clenched. "What do you mean she's coming with us?" I growl.

"He was perfectly clear as to why," I hear behind me. I whirl to see my girlfriend standing there, her arms crossed and the look on her face daring me to say anything.

I scowl and cross my own arms. "Since when are you contributing to fighter development?"

I see her jaw clench. "When I wanted to do what I could to keep those I love safe!" She stalks towards me. "If there's anything I can do to help bring you home, it's worth it." She's now close enough that I can see the shine of unshed tears in her eyes.

Everyone else is studiously pretending to not hear, for which I'm grateful.

"'Last time you went out on a mission you almost killed yourself!" I snap angrily, torn from compassion at her fears and terror that she would be so exposed. Again. "You expect me to trust you not to do that again?"

"Don't," she grinds out, eyes flashing. "This is not a topic for discussion."

Izumi clears her throat. "I'm afraid I have to concur, Avatar," she tells me wearily. "It's a calculated risk, but at this point it's a smaller risk than the mission being aborted because of problems with the new technology."

"Then rip it out!" I roar, whirling on the twins. I feel sick to my stomach at the thought of Asami on this mission and suppress it with fury. "Why in the hell didn't you tell me you couldn't service this? You think if it fails mid-dogfight we're going to have time for even Asami to fix it? If it's that unreliable, then I don't want it!"

I mentally flinch when I see Asami pale and press her lips together angrily, but I'm too furious to back down.

Unfortunately that's ultimately not up to me.

"Colonel, stand down!" Izumi barks. "The decision was mine, and it's been made." She glares at me, every inch the most decorated, fiercest, bad-ass pilot in the history of Space Fighter Corps. "We must all except that loss comes in the service of the greater good." Her voice trembles, and my heart sinks; her son Iroh's loss in the last war was clearly still a constant ache. "Remember your oath, Avatar."

"I fly in defense of my home, I fly with no fear in my heart, I will not falter in the face of my enemy, I will never fail to fail to serve with loyalty and honor." Asami murmurs, and the rest of us stare at her, eyes wide in surprise. Where had she learned this?

"Nor fail in my defense the United Republic of Planets," Kuvira finishes, her usual sardonic expression replaced by one of steely resolve.

There's a moment of silence as everyone turns to look at me expectantly. I feel my shoulders sag in defeat.

"Let's wrap this bird up," I say finally. "I suspect the Admiral has some intel for us."

She gives me a hard look, as if to convince herself that my composure has returned, then nods. "See you in the briefing room."