Danev

He was learning fast.

Very fast.

Fast enough that even I found myself hard pressed to meet his blade with my own as he engaged in an early offense the moment the match began, lunging at me with an upwards swing.

I had to draw back, actually abandon my position in the name of a retreat just so that Fluke's swing wouldn't hit.

Though the swing was a miss, he fluidly changed the direction of the blade mid swing, drawing it back to his right side as he sent a backwards swing towards my left side. This swing I was able to meet with a block of my own, however.

His blade drew back from the impact, and so I took advantage of the moment to send a swing of my own.

Quick on his feet, his balance seeming to have been accounted for by now, he jumped back, my swing going wide, and so we found ourselves face to face, blades drawn.

My heart was racing. I'd had a few easy first rounds today, but Fluke was giving it his all now, as though just waiting for me to be more tired. How he himself seemed to have an infinite supply of energy, I couldn't begin to tell.

Damn, I'm getting old.

Fluke did not wait for me to catch my breath, he went on the offense again, striking towards my left, and as soon as I went to defend, shifted his footing entirely, adopting a new stance and form that was trained on attacking my undefended right. I practically had to throw myself out of the way, costing me even more energy as I just barely evaded his strike.

Fluke was still on the offense, striking again with another upwards swing that, were it a real blade and not a sparring saber, would have dared to slice my entire face off. Fortunately, I didn't need to suffer the blow, just barely managing to block the strike, still being pushed back as a result. I was running short on options. Fluke wasn't tiring while I certainly was.

I can let him have the victory, I suggested to myself. He more than earned it.

But then there was the other part of me, one that didn't come from pride, but from an understanding that I couldn't simply hand it to Fluke. That wouldn't slide on the battlefield. And if anything less than 'everything' would get him killed in the field, why should it have been any different here?

I narrowed my eyes, composing myself for a fight that I knew was not over just yet.

Fluke moved to strike again, but I was ready.

Use his aggression against him, I told myself as I moved aside from his strike, parrying his blade with my own as his attack practically simply glided off of mine. I knew that, had he been in possession or a right arm, he could so easily have burned my face off on a whim from such a move, but he didn't, and so I acted accordingly.

I reclaimed my stance, facing Fluke once again as he eyed me, probing for an opening, not about to allow me to do such a similar thing again. A part of him, I knew, wanted to wait for me to be the first one to strike, but such a thing meant allowing me to regain my energy. I knew he wouldn't wait long. That was fine. He was overextending himself the way he fought now. An opportunity would present itself, and I knew exactly how to exploit it.

Sure enough, Fluke mounted an assault yet again just as I could hear the pounding of our artillery guns firing in the distance once again.

I brought up my sword to meet his as Fluke put his weight into the attack, knowing me back a few paces. He struck again, and I continued to let myself lose ground. I would allow Fluke to keep on pushing me back as he strengthened his blows with the intent of knocking me to my feet, and it would happen soon.

Already, I knew that at such a pace, I would lose all control soon enough and be brought to my mercy. My heart pounded, but I forced myself to focus, to find that perfect moment, and sure enough, it came.

Fluke continued his flurry of attacks, and so I found my opportunity to not defend the full frontal attack but rather, navigate around it. Once again, I knocked aside his blow, his blade skirting off of mine while I spun on my heel and drew Riu's knife from my belt with my left hand. And so on Fluke's exposed right side, unable to defend myself with his left occupied by my right, I brought my knife to his neck, and so it was over.

I was unsure what reaction to expect from Fluke: anger, frustration, something else.

He looked at the blade at his neck, then back up at me, and laughed.

"Really?" he said chuckling, pushing my knife hand away with feigned frustration.

"Hey," I said, defending my action. "Gotta be ready for anything, huh?"

"Would be more pissed if you weren't right," Fluke sighed. His eyes went to the blade, studying it curiously. "Glad to see you're putting Riu's blade to good use at least. Better than your old lieutenant ever would've."

"Aozon didn't know better," I responded to Fluke, oddly enough finding myself defending the man's honor, which I supposed was easier with him now dead in the ground. "He just wasn't meant to lead."

"Can say that again, but enough talking." He spun his blade in his left hand. "Let's have another go?"

"Another go?" After all that?

"Yeah," Fluke answered nonchalantly. "Far from done for today."

I scoffed. "Man, fuck that. I'm beat."

"Ya kidding?"

"You know how old I am?"

Fluke shrugged. "I don't know. 16?"

Shit. How old am I? Has to be something like that. 16, 17? Did my birthday already pass? I shrugged. "Too old for this shit. I know that much."

Fluke chuckled. "Alright then, gramps. I'll go easy on you today. We can call it here."

"Bold of you to call me 'gramps' right after I just kicked your ass."

"Hey if you think you can take me on in a rematch, I'll rescind my statement."

I wasn't about to go that far, and so I said nothing. Fluke got the message. I was sure he would take every advantage to hang it over my head. But for now, it was getting cold now that we were no longer sparring, the chilly mid-winter breeze blowing against the sweat on our backs. As such, we packed up our makeshift training area, and headed back to the 114th's trenchline where we would be taking the night watch finally for this next week, accompanied by the sound of pounding artillery as it continued to beat away at Ba Sing Se's wall.

"Still going, huh?" Fluke observed. "How long you think they can keep it up?"

"Resupply just came in," I said, noting the trucks being offloaded all around the 91st brigade's staging area. "So I reckon still for a good time yet."

"But the Earth Kingdom still ain't flinching, huh?" Fluke observed as we walked, eyes locked on the wall.

"You expecting something different?"

"I was expecting…something, at least, but they haven't moved a muscle."

"Well that's the point of their wall, I guess," I observed. So we can pound away day after day and they can do nothing."

"But they're actually just doing…nothing. We've been sending shells over their walls, explosives, gas, everything. They just gonna let us keep on going? Not a care in the world? They give that little of a shit? Was expecting them to come out by now, face us head on, do…something."

"You sound disappointed."

Fluke shrugged. "A bit, I guess," he said.

That much was hardly a surprise. It was something about him that had remained a new constant since he'd crawled his way from what was left of the 64th division all the way to us. I'd hoped that over the last month and a half it would have worked its way out of the boy's system, but it hadn't thus far.

"Well," I said, deliberating my next move. "I hate to break it to you, but I don't see much action coming to us anytime soon. So long as we got big ass guns pointed at their walls, I don't see why there's much point in engaging the enemy head on."

"You kidding me?" Fluke asked. "Artillery can soften them up, sure, but at some point or another, we're moving in. It'll have to happen eventually."

I shrugged. "Maybe, but things are different here than the 64th. No uselessly wasting people on needless assaults. If there's another way to win without thousands of our own dead stacked on top of one another, we'll take it."

"But we won't get anywhere just holding back and watching our guns do all the work."

"Not the same war anymore. We have artillery, so does the Earth Kingdom. We have mines, so do they. Technological divide is closing."

"Because fuckers on our own side see making a profit as more important than winning."

"That too," I observed, wondering just how much I would need to say to make Fluke realize that there was no point praying for some glorious suicide in the heat of battle. "But the point is, we can't just expect to charge in and win at every turn. We have to fight smarter now. Whether that means softening them up with guns, having infantry hold back until the moment is right to strike, or anything close to that, we'll do it."

Fluke paused in our walk back towards camp, looking at me curiously. "Infantry's holding back?"

"Has been for a while," I confessed. "Saw glimpses of it even when we were in the 64th. Combat has slowed down significantly. No more mass confrontations on the field, battles with death tolls in the thousands. I highly doubt either side really has the manpower for that sort of thing anymore. Lu Ten was telling me about it. Across the war's frontline, a similar thing is happening. 'Static warfare they call it. Dig trenches, hold your ground, pound the enemy with guns, then charge. Not that glorious when you think about it, huh?"

Fluke's jaw was clenched. The talk was not one he was enjoying. I knew what he wanted. He wanted to be out there, fighting, and I had to keep him as far away from that at any cost. I knew what happened to the people who thought themselves invincible, as good as they may have been. I saw what it did to people I cared about, what it did to Mykezia. I wasn't going to let the same thing happen to Fluke.

"It's a good thing," I said. "Enough people have died already, wouldn't you say?"

"Enough have died for nothing," Fluke agreed. "But more'll die for nothing too with a pointless stalemate."

Maybe he was right. Most likely, he was, and even if such was the trend in modern fighting, I doubted Lu Ten and the Dragon of the West to accept such a stalemate, not this close to the end as they believed they were. Many more lives would be lost, I was sure, before this battle and war were over, but Fluke didn't need to be among them.

I decided not to pursue the subject, allowing the rest of the walk to pass with nothing but the noise of distant artillery to accompany it.

The temperature of the world around us rose by an instantaneous fifteen or so degrees as soon as we'd touched ground inside our trench, kept warm by merit of the torches we'd been keeping lit across our lines for the last few weeks, the bonfires burning in our open plazas, and our new habit of insulating our barracks.

A cloth door now hung at the entrance of the "Jiāyuán" district barracks, offering a nice deal of privacy as well as heat retention for those within which had become a more prevalent concern in recent days that the temperature had dropped again. The drop hadn't been accompanied by snow, only freezing winds and below zero nights.

It was, for those reasons, an instant pleasure to be greeted by the warmth that awaited us as we stepped inside. The barracks was mostly empty at this time, those few who were present sleeping in preparation for a night shift, but all was usual.

All was usual, but for when I could hear Fluke on the other side of the barracks asking, "What the fuck?"

I turned.

All was usual, but for the man Fluke and I now found sitting on Mykezia's old bunk.

"Oh," the man, or rather, boy said, looking up at Fluke from where he sat. He was a skinny boy, mid-length brown hair, and, something sitting around his eyes, two circles of glass that rested by a fire frame atop his nose and ears. What the hell? "Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you. Is this," the boy looked at his cot. "Is this your bed? Sorry if it is, I-"

"Who the hell are you?" Fluke asked, interrupting the boy with an authority that came from belonging when certainly not age.

"Oh," the boy chuckled as I approached, seemingly realizing he hadn't mentioned a detail as important as that. "I'm Asaih. A replacement stationed to the 114th company, Dragon Platoon. I'm from the colonies."

Replacements? Already? Lu Ten had mentioned they would be coming in soon, but this, it'd hardly been half a month. Just how many reservists does the Fire Nation have on standby?

"Well, Asaih, replacement to the 114th company, Dragon platoon, from the colonies," Fluke said. "That's my bunk. So if you don't mind scotting off-"

"Actually, Fluke," I said. "More important things to worry about first."

"Such as?"

"Replacements are here, meaning personnel's being rearranged. May want to finally look into your redeployment orders. See if you can get yourself officially sorted now."

Fluke seemed to think about it, considering the value of what I was saying, but knew that I was right. The last time Fluke had officially been in the Fire Nation's system, it was when he'd been in their medical tent for nearly a month before sneaking away in the dead of night. He'd been off the grid for weeks now. That would certainly need some changing.

"Yeah," Fluke said, agreeing. "Alright." He then turned to the replacement. "But I want that bunk empty by the time I'm back!"

Regardless of the statement, Fluke grabbed his backpack from where it was at the seat of his bunk, everything he seemed to need always packed inside and at the ready, and so headed off towards what I could only imagine to be the personnel division. I'm sure he'll have more than enough fun with that, I thought to myself, knowing what I did about our lovely logistician Tokai.

'By the time I'm back,' he said, I thought to myself with a good deal of relief. He knows he'll be stationed back here. Why wouldn't he? It was the logical place for him to go, and besides, I'd talked to Lu Ten. He'd said he'd do what he could to make sure Fluke found his way back home, where he belonged. I knew he'd follow through.

I couldn't focus on that for now though. There was a completely new kid sitting here looking at me like a lost child.

"Are you," he started, pausing.

"Your commander," I finished for him.

His eyes widened, and he stood immediately from his bunk in salute. "Lieutenant Danev!" he barked. "Sir!"

Now that was an odd feeling, I thought to myself. But not one I oppose.

"At ease," I said, trying as hard as I could to stop myself from outright laughing at the boy' performance. The soldier did as I bid, no longer quite saluting, though his posture remained tense and straight. "So when did you get in?" I asked.

"Just this morning, sir. Came in with the latest arms shipment to the Dragon's Host."

"You and how many more?" I asked, wondering just how much of a boon to our forces had come in.

"To the platoon, company, or…all our forces?"

"Bit of everything."

"Well, that over there is Demee." Asaih pointed towards a soldier sleeping on the bunk that'd been Mahung's. "Came in with me. Then there's Tisai, but he's out right now."

"You get the chance to talk to the others, yet?" I asked, wondering just how smoothly it would go over or, more accurately, how far in the opposite direction. "Or-"

I was planning on asking if they hadn't yet had the chance, but I was given that answer shortly as I noticed Chejuh walking into the barracks, seemingly mid-talk with Shozi who was by his side, saying, "Oh great! More of them here!"

There was no mistaking the sarcastic intent in the statement.

"For fuck's sake," Shozi sighed. "And who the hell is this one?"

"Asaih," I said. "Replacement to the 114th company, Dragon platoon, from the colonies. Came in with the latest arms supply."

"Oh goodie," Chejuh said with a completely false smile on his face. "More colonials. I love colonials. Can't get enough of them coming into the 114th without anybody even bothering to fucking tell us!"

The frustration was evident. Obviously.

"We knew they'd be coming eventually," I said, trying to mediate the situation as best I could while Asaih stood by me, noticeably shrinking in his demeanor at the sound of his comrades who no doubt were less than thrilled with his arrival as well as those of the other replacements.

"Where's Fluke anyway?" Chejuh asked, turning to me.. "That's his bunk."

"Off to personnel. Getting reassigned officially here. Look, there's no point getting worked up about it."

It was more an effort of convincing myself of that than the others, in actuality. I was just as opposed to the sight of newbies in our barracks with which we shared no common ground as the others, but regardless, we didn't need conflict here.

"I'm not worked up," Chejuh said innocently before turning his attention towards Asaih. "So tell me, Asaih, replacement to the 114th company, Dragon platoon, from the colonies, came in with the latest arms supply, what do you do?"

"What do I do?" Asaih asked back, trying to understand.

"You're asking me that?" Chejuh said, seizing the boy's confusion and fear to demean him. "Well, right now, you're freeloading by a bed that doesn't belong to you, so I'll ask again, what do you do?"

He poked the boy in the chest. It was light, but enough to push the nervous kid back a few inches. He readjusted the glass lenses that rested on his nose and stammered for an answer, saying, "I'm uh-I'm a marksman."

"A marksman, ey!? Hear that, Shozi. You got competition from the replacement!"

Shozi had more or less separated himself from the encounter, but that comment saw that he would rejoin the fight.

"What's that shit around your eyes?"

I was just as curious for an answer. Perhaps I should have intervened, but I wanted to know as well. And besides, long-standing members of this company had faced worse than this. If anything, this was an initiation that needed to be had. I wouldn't intervene. Not yet. With any luck, the boy Asaih would learn to fend for himself without needing me to do the fighting for him.

"These are, uh-, my spectacles."

"Fuck are 'spectacles?'" Shozi asked, standing up from his bunk to approach the boy.

"They…help me see."

"Help you see? Spirits' name does that mean?"

"I don't…see too well without 'em. These make me see better."

"Bullshit," Shozi said as Chejuh stood aside, allowing his comrade to approach and pluck the spectacles right from Asaih's face.

"Hey, Shozi," I said, trying to ward him off.

"I'm just testing somethin' out," Shozi defended himself as he brought the spectacles up to his own eyes to try to look through. He didn't last a second before exclaiming, "Oh, what the fuck?! I knew it was bullshit! How in spirits' name you see through that?"

"Lemme see," Chejuh said, prompting Shozi to take the spectacles off and toss them to Chejuh in spite of Asaih's muffled protests.

Chejuh proceeded to look through the glass lenses as well before seemingly meeting a similar situation. "Fuckin' hell!" Chejuh explained after removing them to rub his eyes.

I would admit that I myself was curious of just what the lenses looked like from that side, but I wasn't about to contribute to the already ongoing game of hogmonkey in the middle.

"So," Chejuh said, waving the spectacles in the air. "What you're telling me is that, without these, you can't see shit."

"I can see enough!"

"Can you now? How many fingers am I holding up?"

Chejuh, with his three hand, proceeded to hold up three fingers to which Asaih responded, "Three! I'm not that blind, assshole!"

"Oooooh," Shozi said with a smile. "He's talkin' back!"

"You think if we smash the glasses he'll naturally adapt to have better eyesight?" Chejuh pondered.

"See no reason why not," Shozi responded.

"Chejuh," I said. "Come on."

"I'm just-"

"Private!" I meant it now. "Stand down."

Chejuh saw that he'd gone too far, though he still looked to Shozi for some form of support. He would only get a shrug, however, and so Chejuh submitted, and tossed the spectacles back towards their owner.

It was a near fumble, but Asaih managed to hold onto them, and put them back on his face.

"A blind marksman," Shozi scoffed. "Un-fucking-believable."

"Well, Asaih," Chejuh said. "Replacement to the 114th company, Dragon platoon, from the colonies, came in with the latest arms supply, I hope the resupply you came in with proves to be more impressive than our reinforcements."

"New," Asaih spoke up. "New equipment was delivered today too. Was delivered here and I helped drop it off, it's…it's-"

"Oh shit it's right here," Tosa said from across the barracks by the corner. "Whole boxes of new shit." When the hell did he get here?

"When the hell you get here?" Shozi asked across the barracks.

"Oh, I was always here. Decided to keep a low profile."

"You. Keeping a low profile. Sure."

"Well then" Chejuh said, turning back towards Asaih. "Let's go see what gifts the Fire Lord brought for us."

I followed suit, both with a mixed curiosity to see what new equipment had been brought to us as well as an intent to moderate circumstances as they unfolded.

"Fuckin' hell!" Tosa exclaimed from where he was positioned, having moved one box off of another in order to better peer inside. "'Bout damned time!"

"Whatchu got there, Tosa?" I asked as I approached.

The others followed, even Asaih, though from a distance.

"New uniforms by the look of it!" the boy exclaimed, pulling out what appeared to be a helmet. It was a good deal different from ours, and, strangely enough, actually seemed more exposed. At least from an initial look.

"Pass it here," I said, approaching Tosa, who now handed it to me.

It was heavier, that much was certain. Gone were the leather flaps that fell down to our shoulders, replaced instead with a curved metallic back that curved to offer cover to the back of the neck as well as to most of the side. The top of the helmet was nowhere near as pointed as well, now more close to the shape of an actual human head, likely going to fit a lot more nicely as well. There was more space for the face too, which offered both some benefits and detriments. For one, visibility would be greatly improved, but as would vulnerability. Then again, if we were being struck at the face, it was doubtful that our current helmets would have done much to stop them.

"Can I?" Shozi asked by my side.

I handed him the helmet as I approached Tosa to also take a kneel by the new box he was opening. Upon removing the lid was a a layer of tarp, and sitting on top, a small piece of paper with writing on it.

Tosa picked it up and began reading, "To be read by platoon commander, attached are-"

I snatched the paper from Tosa's hand as he looked up with me and a grin, knowing full well it wasn't meant for him, and simply chuckled to himself and proceeded to explore the box as I read:

To be read by platoon commander, attached are instructions for the use and training/drilling of Fire Nation personnel in proper and safe use of FN-EPG-1 Gas Masks.

"Gas Masks?" I said under my breath, attracting a look from Tosa as he uncovered the tarp, showing now just what I'd been reading about: row upon row of masks, and separated in a separate compartment, columns of odd-looking circular objects that by their make, seemed meant to attach to the masks. What the hell?

"Holy fuck!" I heard Shozi say as he opened another box. "What the hell are these?"

Out of the box, he pulled out a stick with a curved end, lined with metallic bits. It was only then that I noticed the metal barrel imbued in the wooden stock. It's a hand cannon.

"Oh!" Asaih said from further behind our small group that was slowly growing such others as Mano and the other replacement who'd just woken up, Demee. "That's an arquebus."

"And arque what?" Shozi asked, turning.

"An arquebus. It's a type of hand cannon, but better. Way more accurate, easier to reload and fire."

"For somebody who can see," Shozi said, looking down at the sights of the musket, "I'm sure."

"I scored the best of my training group in marksmanship," Asaih said.

"Training group of spectacle-wearers like you, I take it?"

"No. In fact, more like you. Over-confident with not much to show for it."

"Ooooooh," came a call from around the barracks at the sound of Asaih's proclamation. It certainly did have Shozi looking up form where he was, staring the replacement down. I kept myself ready for whatever happened, but wouldn't get in the way unless there was no other choice.

"Is that right?" Shozi asked. "Willing to back up those bold claims of yours?"

"Are you?"

"Ooooooh," came the barracks again. Children. I smiled.

And so did Shozi, back at Asaih. "You're on."

Fluke

Tokai was busy. That was hardly a wonder. I imagined he would be spending all of today in the next week simply trying to keep track with the sheer volume of supplies that'd flooded into the Dragon's Host just this morning. Then too, with every passing day, he no doubt needed to keep proper track of every shell being fired by the our guns with every passing minute. How he did it, I certainly didn't know, but whatever he was doing, he was focused on it, eyes staring at a sheet in front of him as he jotted down numbers I couldn't see from my angle with my hand while holding a finger up at me with the other, bidding me to wait.

I did.

And the guns kept firing.

"So…," I said. "How you do it? You jot down tally marks every time you hear a loud boom"

"Be patient."

"I am patient," I retorted. "Just chatting. Or do the gunners tally the shells they fired, deliver to you, then you add it all together at the end of the day? Sounds exhausting, to be honest."

"What don't you understand about, "be quiet?"

"You waiting until now to actually tell me to 'shut up.'"

"Then shut up and let me focus."

I couldn't help but chuckle as I gave a playful shrug of my shoulders and turned to face the still falling artillery where they struck the walls of Ba Sing Se.

We can pound them for years and they'll be no closer to surrender. Their walls were made for this. Ba Sing Se held firm while Chin the Conqueror occupied the entire Earth Kingdom effortlessly. This city was isolated and surrounded by the enemy for years, and still it held. A simple artillery barrage would never be enough to end this stalemate. Not like this.

I looked back on Tokai where he still worked at whatever it was he was doing before I turned back to face the wall.

It'll feel good to get back into the flow of things, I knew. I'd been out of the fight for too long, but mere infantry, away from the fighting? The concept didn't sit right with me. I was needed out there, fighting at the front, paving the way for the others to do whatever I could before anyone else could be killed. I knew the thought was naive, but I had to try, at least.

"Alright!" I heard Tokai say from his stand. I turned to face him. "Now what is it you want?"

"Awaiting reassignment," I said. "Reinforcements are in, so I figure-"

"Wrong place," Tokai said.

"Pardon? This is logistics, isn't it?"

"Yes, logistics. Supplies and weapons. That seem the same as supplies and equipment to you?"

"The distinction never really occurred to me, to be honest."

"Well, the distinction is there. You'll want to talk to personnel for troop reassignment."

I hadn't been aware that personnel was handled separately. "Mind pointing me in the right direction then?" I asked.

Tokai's eyes narrowed as he studying me, as though attempting to discern my intentions through a non-existent veil.

"One moment," he said before turning to leave.

The hell?

The logistician retreated into the recesses of the tent that seemed to act both as the man's housing as well as perhaps organizational area. There a personnel officer sleeping in there I never met? I wondered to myself.

I wouldn't be left waiting long, however, as Tokai would return shortly after, an uncharacteristic smile on his face that contradicted the usual apathy he normally sported, and so asked, "Now what can I do you for?"

What?

"You were," I started, hesitating on how to continue. "Going to point me the way towards personnel?"

"Oh great! You're in the right place then! So what can I help you with?"

"Didn't you just tell me your logistics and you can't manage personnel affairs?"

"Oh no!" the man chuckled. "You were talking to logistics then. You're dealing with personnel now. So how may I be of assistance?"

Is he yanking my chain here?

"I don't-uh-fuck it, whatever." I couldn't be bothered to question it. "I'm looking to be assigned to a new unit."

"Name and unit number, please," he asked, this version of Tokai already proving himself much more amenable than the last."

"Name, Fluke. Unit number, 642962E17."

"Armored then," Personnel Officer Tokai said as he began perusing through papers, seemingly in search of what I amounted to through pen and paper. "Last one of your unit too by the look of it. Wall gave everyone hell, but shit, you more than most."

"I managed."

"Seems so. Says here you're currently recovering in medical."

"Does it look like I'm currently recovering in medical?"

Tokai chuckled. "No, it doesn't. Guess they didn't know you left."

"Or didn't bother to log it," I countered. "Either way…"

"Hmph. Either way. Well, looking at it here, I hate to tell you that it's out of the frying pan and into the fire for you. 44th Armored's where you seem to be headed. Seems you're being reported to, oh, wait a minute. Might be alright after all."

"What do you mean?"

"Special note by your place in the dossier. Sayin' you've also been cleared for special assignment to the 114th Infantry Company."

The 114th? Just like that? How?

"What do you mean, 'cleared for special assignment?" I asked.

"Meaning your transfer to a death sentence might not be so certain after all," the logistician said with a smile that understood none of what was happening. "Come on, stop frowning! This is a good thing!"

Is it? It all made sense what Danev was trying to tell me just earlier today: how the armored was a death sentence, infantry was still meaningful, but leagues safer. He was trying to soften the blow ahead of time. He knew just what was going to happen when I got here. He knew the details of my transfer well ahead of time.

Because he was told, or because he was part of arranging it?

I didn't need to be a genius to know he must have had some hand in it. I knew what he was afraid of, and I knew he would do, every time, whatever was in his power to stop his fears from coming true. He'd used his position and those he knew to save my life in Citadel a year and a half ago, and he was trying to do the exact same damned thing now.

The 114th was where I wanted to be, there was no questioning that. I knew the men there, my friends. I was at home with people I knew and who knew me. We understood each other.

But it'd been chosen by those who were putting me first, and I couldn't accept that. It'd been chosen for me by those who didn't want to see me hurt or killed, as though that was their decision to make.

It wasn't.

Even without being assigned there, Danev was treating me as his responsibility, no different from how he'd done it in Citadel. But it wasn't me he had to look out for; it was the forty men under his command as platoon leader. What was one more man, sure? But I knew Danev. Too well. I knew that if I found myself in the 114th, it wouldn't be as a soldier. It would be as a burden. The 114th, with everyone I knew, it was where I wanted to be, sure.

But it wasn't where I had been meant to go.

I'd been sent back to armored. That was where the fighting was, where soldiers like me were needed. It was where I could do the most good, where I could fight for the Fire Nation, fight for my friends, fight for those who'd been lost already.

"Just a bit more simple paperwork," Tokai continued. "And you can head right to infantry. Consider this your lucky day, man. Wouldn't envy armored for anyone."

"Between armored and infantry," I said, perhaps looking for some assurance that I could stick with infantry, any excuse that could be given to me, "Where are men needed more?"

"Well," Tokai said, his eyebrows raising as he seemed to wonder just where I was going with this. "No question that armored's been hit the most out of any other type of unit at the wall. It's there we're most trying to find the people who're needed."

There goes one excuse.

"And even then," I continued. "Armored's still gonna be saying action? Despite casualties?"

"Unfortunately for them, I believe so. We need the armored spearhead. None of that has changed. I get the feeling the worst is yet to come for 'em too."

That's all I need to know.

"I'd like to stick with my original post to the 44th Armored," I said.

And now the look from Tokai was one of confusion. "Did you hear anything I just said?"

"I did."

"They're going to get the worst of it!"

"Which is why I need to go there."

His eyes were wide as they looked at me, trying, though failing to comprehend. I didn't blame him. There was no logical rationale that I could attach to this decision of mine, none that he could see at least. He was concerned, and he was going to do whatever he could, just like Danev, just like whoever had even put this order through, to stop me.

"The reassignment has already been authorized."

"By who?"

"Brigade command."

Lu Ten. So Danev's pulling favors with him already.

"And my unit reassignment. Is that handled on a brigade level?"

"Division."

"So my order to report to the 44th armored takes precedence, does it not? Was my transfer to the 114th approved by division command?"

"When it is performed on a brigade level not involving men outside of the brigade, it does not."

"So for all intents and purposes, my original orders were delivered from higher authority."

There was a look in Tokai's eyes. Perhaps Brigade Command had leave to make such reassignments, but from a purely bureaucratic standpoint, there was nothing to stop me from following my original orders. Lu Ten's orders were valid, but as were those of the Division command. There was nothing that could actually stop me. And Tokai saw that.

Don't do this, his eyes seemed to say.

I have to.

He turned back towards the dossier in front of him, and so wrote onto it, saying nothing as the decision was made, left to me.

"You are assigned to Shanzi, 44th Armored, Fox Unit." He handed me the transfer slip. "Your unit number is now 119144F5. I pray you won't regret this."

As much as I would regret not doing everything I could have? "I won't."

With that, I left. For once now, finally, I knew where I needed to be. I afforded the direction of the 114th's camp from which I'd came one final passing glance, and I left. I had a place to be again, and a job to do.

Finding the 44th's staging ground was no difficult task. From my time in the 62 armored, I'd become familiar with how armored units typically arranged themselves in brigade order. Generally, in spite of their tendency to act as frontline breakthrough units, the armored motor pool was stationed more to the rear of the brigade's camp, meaning I was in for a good walk.

I passed by the infantry lines soon enough where hundreds upon hundreds of men either rested in their camps of trench lines that'd been reclaimed from the enemy. It was midafternoon and so generally the time at which men were left to their own devices. The commanders of some had their men being put to work, running drills, performing chores around their area, the like.

In the time I'd been staying with them, I'd come to learn the 114th's regime, at least within Dragon Platoon. As a whole in the company, Captain Rulaan took a general hands off approach and trusted the lieutenants of his company to keep the men in check. This'd proven to be rather successful, especially now that the lieutenants of the 114th's separate platoons were no longer men appointed by a distant Fire Nation command, but were slumdogs themselves commanding slumdogs. The men understood each other, they knew each other.

What I would have given to have that, I told myself. The time for that'd passed though. I couldn't go there. Not on a good conscience. I knew what was needed of me, and I knew what I still had left to give the Fire Nation, to give this war.

I knew when I was approaching the armored's area of the camp by the smell before the sight. That of burning coal, filthy and threatening to choke my lungs, but at the same time too, there was something almost familiar about it in a sick sense of the way. I couldn't help but think of the many times I'd come back to find Gunji napping on an extended rear bay door of the tank, Gan fiddling with the tank's systems, both looking up from their respective tasks to see me return before going right back to what they were doing.

I'd had them before at least, but they were gone. I was in an armored unit composed nearly entirely of those from the Fire Nation mainland in colonies, but in my tank had been 2 others just like me who understood who I was and from where I came, and that'd been enough.

But that was gone now.

Who I'd be assigned to next, I had yet to find out.

I found the 44th's staging area soon enough, asking my way around when necessary with a simple question, "Shanzi?"

No matter where I met, I was met with confusion. I could understand those of the 501st and 212th questioning me when I asked about a commander of an entirely different armored company, but even in 44th, I would receive no shortage of questioning looks as I uttered that name, "Shanzi."

It would take a near half hour until I found somebody who actually seemed to know who I was referring to, and so was at last pointed to where I needed to go. I couldn't help but wonder just how low profile this commander Shanzi was to seem to be recognized by so few. Recently promoted? I found myself wondering, that the only logical reasoning I could come to.

I followed the way I was directed towards what seemed to be the southeastern edge of the 44th's staging area as well as the 91st Brigade as a whole, the forests to our Southeast from where the 64th had come from Citadel easily in sight. It was said to be here that this Shanzi was.

But still, it would take me minutes more of walking from one tank crew to another with the same exact question, "Shanzi?"

A shake of the head, and a point.

"Shanzi?"

A shake of the head, and a point.

"Shanzi?"

And yet again, another shake of the head, and a point.

I would be at the point that I must have asked five to ten people before I'd feel the tap of a finger on my shoulder, and turn to find a man, not too much older in me, perhaps in his mid teens, eyeing me up and down with a grin on his face.

"Spirits' sake," he said. "You the one been going around asking about Shanzi?"

"Yeah," I said, relieved. Thank spirits. "That you?"

The boy guffawed. "Do I look like a fuckin' 'Shanzi' to you?"

"Man, mainlander names always confused me anyway."

"Mainlander?!" the boy said, putting a hand to his heart in a clearly exaggerated show of having been offended. "I'll have you know I'm a colonial, mind you!"

It was impossible not to smile the least bit at the pleasant change in pace from wandering the 91st's grounds aimlessly for near on an hour now. "Well, can you still point me the right way, in spite of how offended you may be?"

"I think I can find it in me to do so, but I'll do better than point the way, I'll take you to her now."

Wait. "Her?" The commander's a woman?

"Problem with that?"

"N-no," I said, stammering for words upon realizing my error. "Not at all, I-"

"Relax," the boy said as he began walking. "I'm fucking around. But come on, let's get you situated. What're you doing here anyway? Don't think I've ever seen you 'round before."

"Replacement," I said.

The boy looked at me, a curious look in his eye. "Huh," he said. "Wouldn't have figured."

What's that supposed to mean? I chose not to question it, opting to walk in silence instead as he took me past one tank and crew or another that I likely would have needed to bother at some point in another on my quest for where I was finally being taken direct now.

Soon enough, the boy's steps would begin to slow as we came upon a site near the edge of camp where I would see two tents set up, a number of chairs, tables, and other accommodations scattered around, and a tarp awning suspended by two poles, and a large steel tank. At one of the tables, lost in a book, was another soldier, roughly the age of the person escorting me now.

"Eyo Hizo!" the boy next to me said. "Look what I got! New recruit! Turns out we were wrong after all!"

"You were wrong," the boy answered, looking up from his book. "He a bit young, no?"

"Eh, no younger than when we signed on, wouldn't you say?"

The boy, Hizo, shrugged. "S'ppose not."

My escort took a few eager steps ahead, and then turned, arms outstretched, and so proclaimed, "You're finally here! Welcome to your new post, the crew of…The Shanzi!" With that, he motioned behind him with all the flare of an Ember Island showman and so presented the hunk of metal at the rear in the camp currently acting as an expensive wall. "Nice little hand me down from all the crews that've had her before us!"

"Shanzi is," I started, my mind finally wrapping around what was going on, "the tank."

The boy looked back at me, eyes wide, and said, "Ohhhh, you thought Shanzi was our commander, huh? Pfft. Like we'd ever let a woman command us. What do we look like? Idiots?"

"For spirits' sake, Zek," said Hizo, the boy, now confirming to me the name of the other. "Give it a rest."

"Oh come on, man. He knows I'm just messing around." Zek turned back to me. "But yep, that right there is Shanzi."

"You named your tank 'Shanzi?'" I asked, still trying to debate the one question in my mind, why?

"Mhm," Zek responded proudly, placing his hands on his hips. "Named 'er after Hizo's old girlfriend back in Yu Dao."

At that, Hizo look up from his book, eyes narrowed in a fashion that suggested this was more annoyance than surprise at a running joke he'd heard one too many times. "Zek…," he warned.

Zek did not heed the warning. "Mhm; ice cold, made of steel, and has had more men inside of her than we can count."

It was all I could do to stifle the laughter that would have been entirely at Hizo's expense. The man in question could only shake his head and mutter under his breath as he returned to his book, "I fucking hate you."

But Zek went unfazed, a dumb grin plastered onto his face as he stood there proudly.

"Zek," a friendly voice came from one of the tents as a man stepped out. "You tell that joke much more, it's gonna start to get old."

"But it ain't old yet," Zek smiled as he turned to face the man who emerged from the tent, certainly the oldest of the group here, somewhere in his mid to late 20s, I'd reckon, with a hair color that verged the line between brown and red.

He was smiling. The moment he caught sight of me, however, that changed.

"Who's this?" he asked.

"Replacement," Zek said in my stead before I could speak. "Our new gunner by the look of it. Guess we were wrong after all, Boss."

Boss? So this must be the commander then. I looked at the man who looked back at me with judging eyes, then at Zek as though to ask how to proceed. I would get no answers.

Fuck it. I took a step towards the man. "I assume you're the commander," I said as I extended a hand for him to shake. "I'm-"

"I don't care who you are," the man said. "You're not joining this outfit."

What?

He turned to leave back towards his tent, seeming to think the conversation over. It sure as hell wasn't for me, however.

"Got a transfer slip that says otherwise," I asserted. "Says right here that I'm stationed to the Shanzi. That right there's the Shanzi, so this is where I am."

At the very least, the commander was no longer walking. Instead, he stopped, and turned back to look at me. "Do you have any idea where you are?"

"44th Armored," I said. "I'm well aware."

"I don't think you are. This unit has seen more combat encounters than any other in the 91st, and suffered the casualties to show for it. You're not cut out for this. You're just some kid fresh to the front lines. Report back to personnel and get staffed to infantry or support or some shit."

Is he serious right now? He was going to call me 'kid.' After everything. After the people I've killed, after the fights I've just barely pulled myself out of, no. That was one thing I wouldn't tolerate.

"Hey, fuck you!" I said.

"Hey, man," Zek said. "Easy."

I wouldn't listen. "'Fresh to the frontlines?' I've been here half a year, asshole. I was with the 64th. I fought for our foothold, to finish encircling the city. I went through the mountains to get this siege moving, I fought to unify our lines, and I fought at the wall! I was with the damned 62nd armored, and their only survivor, so the last fucking thing I need is for you to call me a damned kid!"

He was silent for a moment, studying me. "Your arm," he said.

"Got that at the wall."

"I have no use for a one-armed gunner on my tank."

"I only need one arm to burn earthbenders," I said.

That had Zek's attention once again. 'You're a firebender," he said.

I nodded, and he turned back towards his commander.

"Come on, Boss. He's got a point. We need a gunner. And a firebender at that, experienced?"

"He's a kid!"

"We're all kids, Boss," came Hizo's voice from back where he was, otherwise out of the picture until now.

Thanks.

The commander, Boss, he looked back at me. "Transfer's already through, then?"

"Tendered by Tokai," I said. "It's final."

He grimaced. None of this, he was happy about, but the choice wasn't his.

"Fine," he said. "Can't fight personnel. You'll be co-pilot. Danev, you're gunner."

"What?!" I asked.

"Come on, Boss; you know I'm shit at-"

"Not a word out of either of you. And you, kid,"

"Don't call me that."

"Get used to it. Kid, you're most likely going to be dead before I get a chance to memorize your name, so I'm not going to bother. None of us are. You don't say your name. You just do your job, try not to die for as long as you can, and we'll see what happens."

"Really know how to make me feel at home, huh?"

"I'm not trying to make you feel at home. I'm trying to make you understand where you are. If you get lucky you'll realize that before you're dead. Bad enough they transferred a kid like you here. The hell was personnel thinking."

"Personnel was thinking of assigning me to infantry," I said. "Gave me leave to go to the 114th. I turned it down."

And Boss's eyes were back on me. All of their eyes were on me. Boss, Hizko, Zek, everyone.

"Then you're more of an idiot than I thought," Boss said before walking off. Not towards his tent, the tank, but away from the campsite entirely.

Nobody said a word as he left until he was long gone out of sight. And like that, I'd met my new commander.

"Sorry about that," Zek said as soon as he was away. 'He's-"

"An asshole?" I finished for him.

"No, he's…he's seen a lot of people in our tank come and go. Hizo and I were replacements for his first assigned crew minus his gunner. That gunner, and about half a dozen more would pass through our tank before our last one, lasting almost six months, the longest one got."

"You trying to warn me about something?"

"Maybe," Zek said with a shrug. "Boss ain't wrong. You've got to be pretty damned stupid to choose a post like this."

"You said yourself you need men here, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but-"

"Then why complain? I'm here, aren't I?" He didn't need to understand why I was here. None of them needed to understand. The surface level logic was good enough. They needed reinforcements, and I was the reinforcements. Why did there need to be a question beyond that? What more was there to it than that? Why was there a need to know my motives, my intentions? What difference did any of it make at the end of the day?

Zek said nothing for a while, until finally he confessed, "I s'ppose not. Come on. Let me show you where you'll be sleeping."

"You gonna tell him or should I?" Hizo said as Zek led me deeper into the camp, closer to the tank, Shanzi.

"Tell me what?" I asked.

"Yeah, uhhhhh, we really weren't expecting reinforcements to come in, so we kinda traded in our old gunner's gear for some extra supplies."

"Food," Hizo said, clarifying. "And we didn't trade anything. You-"

"Blablabla doesn't matter!" Zek said.

It was good to have at least these two, I supposed. People who weren't treating me as a burden. I'd dealt with asshole commanders before all the way back in Citadel. I could handle this 'Boss' of theirs, I knew. At least not everybody was a piece of shit.

"So where'm I staying instead?" I asked.

"Well," Zek said as he approached the tank, climbing up the hull before opening the hatch. "Unfortunately, 'till we can requisition another tent and cot, I'm afraid you're staying in here. I know it's cramped, dank, dark, and-"

"It's fine," I said, climbing up the side of the tank to join Zek. Sure enough, it was no different from the tank I'd had back in the 62nd, shared with Gan and Gunji. Same model and make, same design, same space inside. I'd spent more than enough nights in our old tank to know how to get comfortable. And besides, "I've slept in worse," I said.

Zek scoffed. "Sure you have." With that, he made way for me to climb into the hatch and find my seat, dropping my pack down to the ground next to me. There was no denying that Shanzi was used goods by the look of her. It'd long since been converted into a home by the men of this lovely little squad as indicated by strewn out personal belongings, jury-rigged systems, and on my turret, tally marks, each beneath different names.

"Hey what are these?" I asked. "Kill counts?"

Zek looked inside the hatch. "Oh. Those'll be carnage counts. Tally for every battle survived. Tradition starting with this tank's first gunner, then the one after started his own count, then the one after his own, and so on and so forth."

"So what's the tank's total count?" I asked.

"Don't know," Zek shrugged. "Just add those together, I guess. Record's thirty-two. Let's see if you beat it."

I didn't plan on doing anything else.

"By the way," he said, extending a hand. "I'm Zek, in case you didn't catch it."

"I did," I said, taking his hand to shake it. "I'm-"

"Ah! Sorry, can't. Boss's orders."

I drew my hand away swiftly.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"'Fraid not. Boss's orders. It's nothing personal; really."

"You're refusing to learn my name because you're preparing yourself ahead of time for me to be dead before the month's up. How much more personal does it get?"

Zek grimaced. "Not much more, I guess. Sorry."

"It's fine," I said. It hardly was, but there were more important things to worry about than making friends. If it was friends I was looking for, I would've stayed in the 114th. "I'll manage."

Zek said nothing for a while, just looking through the hatch as I adjusted myself to find a position that might suffice for the next few hours before meal time came, and after that, night. I would manage.

"Just try to prove us wrong, yeah?" Zek said one last time before turning to leave, not giving me time to answer.

It wasn't a matter of trying.

I knew what I was here to do. To fight and kill. I couldn't do that if I was dead. I didn't need Boss, Zek, Hizo, anybody to remind me of where I was. I'd been here for six months already. I knew what I was up against, and I knew what I was prepared to do.

I wasn't going anywhere.

Not until this war was over, and every enemy beyond those walls were dead.

I wasn't dying.

Not yet.

Long Feng

So it'd begun.

My job as head of Dai Li was to ensure the internal stability and security of Ba Sing Se.

I'd failed.

The assignment tasked to me had been to quell the civil unrest in the lower districts and prevent an uprising before one could begin.

I'd failed.

My duty as a servant of the Earth king was to protect his domain, and to ensure that all threats to his reign had gone answered.

And in that, I'd failed too.

The lower districts were in open revolt.

It wasn't organized, not yet, but soon enough, it would be. It'd been protests, small riots, and civil unrest before, but the execution of Pusuwan had changed everything. A riot had broken out that exact moment. Royal Guard forces had been forced to escort me, Honang, General Hondu, and all the rest of us away from the lower districts and back into the inner city. I was told that during the evacuation, thirteen of our guard had been lost and over four dozen civilians had been killed or wounded.

Not civilians. Rioters.

Whatever they were, their deaths had sparked further outrage, and the rioting had not stopped since. Fires raged around the Summer district as barracks were lit aflame, police stations burned to the ground, food distribution centers looted, and the gate to the middle district under siege. Hondu's forces now were split between maintaining order in the lower city districts that hadn't yet fallen to rioters as well as protecting the wall that separated the lower and middle districts.

Last I'd heard, General How was being pulled by royal decree from the Outer Wall in the name of now securing military order and protecting the middle ring.

It wouldn't work.

The riots had started just yesterday afternoon. It was near midnight of the following day now, and the latest reports indicated that the Summer, Yellow, Flower, and Fang Yu districts had completely fallen into chaos and separate protests and riots were emerging across the lower districts in such ones as the Nan, Blue, and Emerald districts.

A new war was emerging. Not one with the Fire nation, but one with our own people, and I couldn't see for the life of me how we were going to win.

What the hell had Honang been thinking? I found myself asking. Killing Pusuwan, it was a move that'd made no sense. Exactly as I and General Hondu had anticipated, it'd done no more than created a martyr. Now, Pusuwan's name was being chanted as a rallying cry by our own people as they laid siege to his majesty's government's administration. They chanted the name as they burned caravans unfortunate enough to have been passing through during the riots. They chanted the name as they'd found magistrate Saigon Ya's home in the Yellow District and laid siege to it for a half day before realizing they had the numbers, and so stormed it. Still, they chanted Pusuwan's name as they'd dragged her out of her home, killed her two children in front of her and done no shortage of other horrors before finally killing her two.

It was no riot. Not anymore. Not after Pusuwan's death. It was a rebellion, and one that seemed to have found the best time to begin. And it would only get worse. The rebellion was spreading. Magistrates of the other lower districts were already beginning to evacuate their assets from the outer city in favor of finding refuge beyond the wall that separated them from the growing chaos. Forces belonging to General How and General Hondu would hold the line as best as they could, but it wouldn't be enough.

Nothing would be enough anymore.

For once, I didn't know what to do.

I sat at a desk, looking at maps that I had to update by the half hour just to show me how terribly we were fading, perusing reports that spoke of what latest victim the rebels had claimed. All of it spoke of the same undeniable truth. We were damned.

There was a knock on my office door. Seeing as how it was in my Lake Laogai office where I found myself, I knew it could only be one man.

"Come in," I said.

Sure enough, Captain Heli emerged from the door.

"Cultural Minister," he said with a bow, but stopped as soon as I dismissed the formality. Now was hardly a time for such a thing. There were far more pressing matters.

"What is it, Captain?" I asked, failing to veil the frustration that was on full display. Not with him of course, but with everything surrounding our present circumstances. The fact was that I hadn't had the chance to speak to him since assigning him to test our suggestion therapy on our own men in the hopes of being able to do the same on Pusuwan.

All the good that'd done.

"I understand the timing is poor, but I wanted to consult you regarding the results of our tests in accelerated suggestive therapy."

"It can't be done," I said, realizing that now. I'd demanded such a thing be tried out of desperation alone, but it'd been doomed from the start. Nothing could've stopped what'd happened yesterday, and I hardly needed to hear Captain Heli's affirmation of such.

He did no such thing. Instead, he only looked at me, before turning back towards the door to say, "Private Gen Lao. Private Cho. Enter"

Right as he said this, two uniformed Dai Li agents, in perfect unison, entered my line of sight and stepped into my office, stopping the exact moment they'd crossed the threshold into my office.

Gen Lao. Cho. I realized then, these were the agents that Captain Heli had decided to test the accelerated suggestive therapy on. So why had he brought them here? To showcase the unreliability of such an endeavor. It was far from the last thing I needed.

"Private Gen Lao. Private Cho. This is Long Feng, head of the Dai Li, and your new master."

And at once, again in perfect unison, the two men spoke. "We Dai Li are loyal to you, Long Feng." And so they knelt, staying there on the ground.

What?

"Your agents, sir," Captain Heli said as he now turned towards me.

"What am I," I paused to collect my thoughts, standing from my desk so as to afford me a better view of the men where they knelt. "What am I looking at?"

"The results of the accelerated Suggestive Therapy. It has worked far better than anticipated, sir."

"You mean….they-"

"Are perfectly loyal, without question."

I looked now at Captain Heli. "How can you be sure? These men haven't been field tested. How can we know this is reliable?"

How can we know such a thing would've worked with Pusuwan. What evidence is there?

Captain Heli, however, seemed intent on securing such evidence now. He turned towards the agents once again.

"Rise!" he commanded.

The two rose together, in perfect sync.

"Draw your blades."

The agents drew their blades together.

"At attention, stand!"

And at attention, they stood.

Captain Heli turned to face me, and I knew what he saw. He saw exactly what I felt: confusion, doubt, a failure to comprehend just what I was seeing. And so Captain Heli would clean away any such thing. He turned back to the agents again.

"Private Cho," he said. "Kill Private Gen Lao."

What?

Not a second was wasted. Private Cho turned to face Private Gen Lao who remained facing directly ahead. Private Cho clutched his blade, and so brought it in a swing directly towards his compatriot's neck just as soon as I could say, "Wait!"

The blade stopped. In an instant.

It'd made contact with Gen Lao's neck, cutting through the outer layer of skin, but stayed right there, not moving an inch deeper, or an inch out. And Gen Lao, he hadn't flinched. He was right where he'd been a minute ago, nothing, not even a sword to the neck enough to move him, blood creeping out from below the blade, streaking down his skin.

Captain Heli looked at me, and I at him, and now the doubt was gone. There was no question. It worked.

"Stand down," I said to the agents, and so Private Cho retracted his blade, and in unison again, the two sheathed their weapons, standing down.

It worked. By the spirits, it worked.

"These men are yours, Long Feng."

And with that, Captain Heli left my office, leaving these men here. His work had been done, and he had delivered.

Pusuwan…the riots…it could have been avoided. The plan could have worked. This rebellion could have been stopped in its tracks, but here we were, and because of Honang. I hadn't been able to stop him, and now, now we were in a civil war while fighting against an invader at our footsteps.

To fight the Fire Nation, the Earth Kingdom could recruit from as many willing volunteers as they wished and conscript as many impoverished serfs and slummers as was needed. With them, the army could fight a war. But our war had changed. We were no longer fighting an invading army alone. We were fighting our own neighbors. Such a thing did not do good to one's sense of loyalty, and in such a case, victory could only be found through unflinching loyalty.

Now, I have such a thing.

Now, I could fight this war that none others had the stomach to admit was on our doorstep.

Honang, the ministers in his pocket, and all those who didn't have the eyes to see through his incompetence, they had brought us here. But I would bring us out of this. And as these men in front of me proved, we would do whatever needed to be done.