[AN] The final chapter of the Galactic Tales of the Fire Ferrets. A journey started 9 years ago(!) finally comes to an end. It's been a ride.
Fly straight, you crazy pilots, especially you 'Roar, you wild flyer…
Ferrets Forever.
—
"Avatar, are you with me back there?"
I blink, finding myself once more jammed into the jump seat of a space fighter. I shift, and a wave of agony washes over me.
"Ow, fuck," I groan.
"There you are." Opal sounds immensely relieved. I can't really share her enthusiasm; the alternate dimension was much more tolerable to my nerve endings. I am forcibly reminded of how much pain I had been in.
"Everybody else accounted for?" I manage after a moment.
I hear her blow out her breath. "Except for Mouse's ride, yeah, we're all here. Heading back planet side now."
With a grunt I let my head fall to one side, helmet propped against the canopy. The engine glow of two other fighters are just ahead of us and beyond, the swath of city lights shine brightly amidst the night side of Terra. I let my eyes close again. The weight of everything I've experienced over the past weeks, months, years even, suddenly feels like a near unbearable weight.
In my pained exhaustion I fall into a restless doze, awaking only when Opal settles our fighter down with a light thump onto the landing. I can't muster the energy to climb out and then am only vaguely aware of being lifted from the cockpit and placed carefully onto a stretcher. I catch a brief glimpse of Asami's red-rimmed eyes, watching anxiously near me before I'm out once more.
I dream of whiskey and laughter, of a rascal pilot's broad grin and a green-eyed woman's fond expression, arm in arm in an officer's club at the end of the universe…
—
The wall before me is covered in hundreds of hard print photos of cadets and pilots of the Space Corps, ranging from official headshots to the most egregious examples of blackmail material one could imagine. I lean forward, looking more carefully at an older photo of me and Kuvira doing pushups while being sprayed with a hose held by Bolin. Kuvira's expression is murderous but I'm sticking my tongue at the camera, probably held by Mako. I smile, remembering the snakes Kuvira hid in Bolin's locker soon after. Harmless, but the resultant screech woke the entire base, to Kuvira's smug satisfaction.
I find another picture, this one of Opal and Jinora, their arms slung across each other's shoulders the day they flight qualified. Nearby is Kuvira and Iroh the day they both made Lieutenant. Their dress uniforms are slightly askew, and they're each holding a bottle of whiskey that are noticeably not full. Saikhan is visible off to one side with an unconvincing scowl, standing with Sergeant Song and the cadets who had formed the honor guard that day.
I can't help but wonder if Song would be happy or pissed his son is now a cadet himself.
"You're going to miss this place."
I turn to see Bumi leaning against the door jam of the my office. His cane is new, the plain metal one he'd be given by his doctor after hip replacement surgery replaced by what looks like maple and silver, and the seam at the handle almost shouting that there was a blade hidden in the shaft. Aged he may be, but I would never put it past the old soldier to kick my ass.
I shake my head, forcing myself out of my musings. "Not going to miss all these snotty kids and their whining," I mutter.
He laughs. "Keep telling yourself that, Fleet Admiral."
I wince. "Not quite."
He smiles and nods. "No, not quite." He limps over to join me, looking over the pictures with me for a long moment. He pokes the picture of Jinora and Opal with a snicker, then looks around the office. "It's telling that you kept your working office at the academy, even after becoming Izumi's second in command."
"I recall a certain General telling me that most of High Command weren't worth pissing on if they were on fire."
He grins. "Just so." His finger brushes a picture that shows Tenzin speaking at a graduation service. I can't tell which one at this point, but my heart gives a little lurch. He was a good man, taken from us too soon due to illness. I know Jinora still struggles with the loss.
"My brother was so upset when Jinora applied to the fighter corps." He shakes his head in amusement. "He blamed me, of course. Then I told him if it was up to me I would've had her in Special Forces. She would have been outstanding!"
I frown. "But he was in the service?"
"As a chaplain," Bumi reminds me. "He thought Jinora would follow in his footsteps. On his deathbed he was still complaining about it!"
"Wee as a chaplain?" I burst out laughing. "Not seeing it…"
"Exactly," agrees Bumi. Then he swats my leg with his cane. "Now. Your wife has sent me to fetch you. It wouldn't do for the new Admiral of the Fleet to be late to her own investiture."
"Fuck," I groan.
The sound of a throat clearing comes from the doorway and we both turn to see Kuvira, resplendent in her dress uniform with her new insignias as Commandant of the Fighter Corps.
"Hurry the fuck up, Avatar," she grouses. "The Doc is getting insufferable."
With Bumi's cane still prodding me along I follow Kuvira obediently. We make our way past fighters in various stages of repair, through the hanger doors and out onto the apron. Beyond, bleachers and stands are setup and hordes of people are milling about. I hear the United Forces Band playing their usual blend of tunes.
Kuvira bumps my shoulder. "I should probably be giving you a lecture about how you've betrayed us by accepting this promotion—"
"I seem to recall something along those lines when I made Rear Admiral," I interrupt dryly.
"Yeah, yeah," Kuvira waves her hand dismissively. "That was me just taking the piss." She turns and stops, one hand gripping my shoulder. Her expression is more serious than I've ever seen. "There's no else I'd trust in this position."
I blink.
"And if you fuck up I swear to all the gods I will kick your ass so hard." She finishes with a glare.
I burst out laughing. "Copy that, Boss."
Opal and Jinora appear on either side of me. "Doc is going spare," Jinora says urgently. "Let's go!"
I'm hustled up to the stage and plopped into a chair near the podium. Izumi, her own cane a mix of elegant walnut and polished brass, is in the chair next to me.
"You're late."
I roll my eyes. "I am not. My babysitters made sure of that." I look around for my wife, surprised she's not already in her seat given all the people she sent after me.
"Doctor Sato is taking a call," Izumi points off to one side where I see Asami pacing back and forth. Interestingly she's looking at her tablet, not using her phone. However, before I can ponder that too deeply she turns and hurries up the staircase and sinks elegantly onto her chair.
"You're late," she hisses, but her expression belies her irritated words. She reaches across me and pats the old Admiral on the knee. "But we're ready now."
Izumi's adjutant helps her up. She's held off retirement with a steely gaze and firm hand until I was legally able to take her place despite heavy political pressure from her peers in High Command. Thankfully, the new President of the United Republic of Planets was in full agreement, but I am still not sure how they were able to manage the glaring conflicts of interest. The one or two sour expressions behind us from where the members of High Command were seated are a reminder that my promotion is not universally supported. To be honest, I'm still not entirely convinced this is a good idea.
But, well, fuck it, as Bumi would say. If everybody on High Command was totally happy I probably wouldn't feel compelled to do this.
The master of ceremonies, a barrel chested Master Sergeant, steps up to the podium. He waits about fifteen seconds, then harrumphs into the microphone. The murmurings of the crowd soon fade away.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the President of the United Republic of Planets!"
Asami takes a deep breath, then rises to replace him at the podium. I hear a faint whoop from the back of the crowd over the sound of polite applause. I think it's Opal but I carefully give no sign that I've heard. Next to me I hear Izumi sigh and I bite back my grin.
"Good afternoon, everyone," Asami begins. "We are here today to honor the long and illustrious service of an officer, a woman who has dedicated her life to the service of the Federation, an exemplary member of a proud family who for generations have fought to preserve the freedoms and values we all hold dear. Throughout her life Fleet Admiral Izumi has epitomized integrity, dedication, resilience," Asami pauses and glances over at us, "and sacrifice. The United Federation of Planets is grateful beyond measure for your contributions to our peace and security."
Applause breaks out, much louder this time. There are now whoops from more than just Opal; every pilot and flight support engineer in the audience reveres the one they know as Viper, the most decorated pilot in the history of the Corps. I glance at her, the reference to Iroh as always a small pang in my heart, but Izumi appears almost serene, certainly more relaxed than I'm used to seeing her. I bump her shoulder with my own and to my shock she actually smiles at me before rising and making her way over to join Asami at the podium. Asami bows to her and steps back.
Izumi looks over the crowd. "I despaired of ever reaching this day," she begins. "Especially when I had to deal with the menace that is the Fire Ferrets taking over our sacred institutions." She glares at me, then Kuvira who is clearly chortling behind a gloved hand. A guffaw rolls across the crowd. She smirks, then straightens. "But it has been my honor and privilege to serve with the dedicated men and women of our Fleet, and I retire content, knowing that the Fleet is in good hands. I pray that the peace we have fought for and finally achieved will hold. And if it does not," her face grows stern and her sharp gaze pierces everyone. "Then I know that you will fly in defense of our home—" Every member of the Corp rises in a wave and shouts their oath, and I join them, leaping to my feet.
"I FLY WITH NO FEAR IN MY HEART. I WILL NOT FALTER IN THE FACE MY ENEMY. I WILL NEVER FAIL TO SERVE WITH LOYALTY AND HONOR, NOR FAIL IN MY DEFENSE OF THE UNITED REPUBLIC OF PLANETS!"
Our collective voices thunder across the runway, ringing against the massive hanger walls. Izumi salutes us all and as one we return it. Tears are streaming down my face and I'm not alone. She turns to me and stands at attention, and I mirror her. The Master Sergeant shouts instructions at the nearby honor guard and salutes while they surround the nearby flag pole and lower the United Federation flag of the Fleet. We all watch as it comes down, waving only slightly in the faint breeze. Finally it's low enough where it's captured and carefully folded into a crisp triangle. The Master Sergeant takes it between two hands, then turns and marches back to Izumi.
"Admiral, you are relieved of command!"
"I stand relieved," she replies. She returns his salute and accepts the proffered flag before making her way back to her seat. She sits with poorly concealed relief; the fact I could tell at all speaks to how much she's been looking forward to this.
Meanwhile a brand new flag is being pulled back up the pole, and in a spectacular bit of timing, four space righters roar past in a diamond formation. I idly wonder who's flying as I take a deep breath and march over to where Asami is waiting for me at the podium. The crowd hushes, waiting expectantly, as she raises her hands. Her lips are curled in a loving smirk as she affixes the five star insignias indicating my new rank as Admiral of the Fleet, in charge of every ship, sailor and pilot in the United Federation's Defense Forces.
My stomach starts to churn until I catch Asami running her teeth along her upper lip.
"Madame President," I hiss, choking in amused shock.
Her smirk widens into a grin. "I'll be speaking about all of your duties later, Admiral," she whispers as she steps back.
The Master Sergeant steps forward, thankfully having missed all of that. "Admiral Korra, call sign Avatar, I present your command!"
I salute the flag, then turn and salute the crowd who are roaring their approval. I finally see Opal and Jinora, sitting towards the back with Wing and Wei, all of them standing on their chairs and hollering their enthusiasm. Around them, more familiar faces of pilots I've flown with, and even more pilots that I've trained, and as I feel the weight of responsibility settle over me I also feel my resolve harden. I glance over at Izumi and she's gazing at me with a knowing expression. I understand more clearly the burden she's carried all these years, but it's now mine, and I will bear it gladly.
I step forward, and lean towards the microphone.
"Company, dismissed! Drinks are on me!"
The crowd roars once more, and as I turn towards where Asami and Kuvira are waiting for me I pull up short as my HUD flickers to life in my cybernetic eye.
REPORTING FOR DUTY, ADMIRAL.
Now I see the hologram of Raava pop into view in front of me. She's wearing the uniform of a Sergeant Adjutant, and grinning mischievously.
"Raava?" I whisper hoarsely.
THE ONE AND ONLY. DID YOU THINK I WAS GOING TO DITCH YOU INDEFINITELY? SOMEBODY HAS TO KEEP YOU OUT OF TROUBLE.
"I thought that was Asami's job," I mutter as I stalk towards my wife.
DOCTOR SATO KNOWS FULL WELL THIS IS A JOB FOR MORE THAN ONE PERSON.
"But—"
FERRETS FOREVER, AVATAR. GHOST BITCH WILL NEVER LET YOU DOWN.
Asami's expression tells me she's fully aware of what's happening. She presses her lips to mine before muttering through our kiss. "How much trouble am I in?"
"Oh, Doc," I sigh. "I can't even quantify how much." I pull her into a tight embrace. "Will take a lifetime to get over it."
"I like the sound of that."
"Me too, Doc," I agree, and let her go enough to throw an arm around Kuvira's shoulders. I see Opal, Jinora, and the twins running towards the stage, laughing as they go. "Me too."
Ferrets forever.
