Aegis
The sun had risen. Day had come, and still, it felt as though I could see only a fraction of the world ahead of me compared to what I'd seen the night before
The world ahead of me was blank and flat. I saw the same farmland, the same village, the forests, and I could even now make out the river. There was no muzzle flash of artillery however, no fires of our own still burning.
We could see everything; yet we could see nothing.
It was quiet.
Quiet didn't belong in war. They were waiting for us, most likely. We knew, and so too did our Host command understand that.
With Boss, Zek, and Hizo this morning had also come new orders. We were piercing into hostile territory. The move was not offensive by nature, but rather, one for scouting, prodding the enemy to see how they'd respond. When I'd questioned why limited armored units were being used for something so menial, the answer had been that mounts had yet to be brought from the other side of Ba Sing Se's wall to our position, and none were too keen on waiting the 2 days it'd take to move and rest them before they could be put to use.
It was as fair an argument as any. A lot could change in two days, Where today there was only flat farmland could in two days become an entrenched Earth Kingdom fortress. That was the enemy we were fighting, one whose ideology revolved around the idea of not taking a single step back, of fighting to the last man, and holding their ground to the bitter end.
Naturally, there was only one response to an enemy such as that–to not give them a single second, much less two days. Only on the backpedal could the Earth Kingdom be beat, and as such, perpetually would we be on the offensive until all was said and done.
I'd accepted that long ago.
And I'd embraced it.
As for the rest of the Shanzi's, I couldn't quite say they'd embraced it, but they had at least come to terms, and weren't about to complain. The orders were better at least than those from two days prior. It was just scouting. Into enemy territory, sure, but not with the intent of capturing an entire trench line.
Besides, we weren't traveling alone for once, which was all the more reason to rely on tanks such as these rather than cavalry. I had yet to see an ostrich horse that could carry 2 pilots, a gunner, a technician, and a full squad of Fire Nation soldiers atop.
Who ought to be here any minute.
"All looking good back there, Aegis?" Boss called out from the front, performing last checks on both tank and crew functionality. A word hadn't been mentioned of my absence last night, and I preferred it that way. I wasn't in the mood to explain myself, and much preferred my focus placed on doing my job than needing to rerun through the mental gymnastics of why I preferred the comfort of a crammed tank turret on the front to that of a fire-wramned tent with a full belly behind the line.
"Good back here," I said. "ETA on when we can expect Hanzek and his boys?"
"Good question, isn't it?" Boss mused, just as aware as I was that they were overdue by at least a good few minutes by now. "Hizo, time?"
"Clock's readin' 1019 back here." 19 minutes late already. "Should I start mission timer?"
"No," Boss sighed. "Not yet. Mission start's when those fuckers arrive."
"Probably got lost," Zek suggested. "They're new to this side of the wall, apparently. May not know the layout yet."
There was a sting of condescension in those words. The infantry said to be working on scouting and skirmishing operations were rearguard troops, held in reserve for both the wall and for the battle of the reserve trench line 2 days ago.
They could've been fighting in this siege for the last whole year, but until they spilled blood, theirs or the enemy's, on this side of the wall, they may as well have been fresh from the Fire Nation islands.
And speaking of…
"We know if they're islander or colonial?" Hizo asked from Shanzi's rear.
"Hrm?" Boss asked.
"Islander or colonial," Hizo repeated.
"It make a difference?" I asked, the two categories just as alien to me, who instead belonged to some third unspoken of 'occupied city slumkid' category.
"Yes it makes a difference!" Danev barked half-jokingly. "Because on one hand you have pleasant colonial folk like Hizo and I who are pretty damned good company, then on the other you-
A clear of the throat from Boss, not a foot away from Danev.
Choose your next words wisely, that deliberately stifled cough said.
I looked down at Danev, who now looked behind at Hizo, who gave a firm shake of his head. It was half legitimate warning and half improvised comedy routine I could tell. They were in no danger, but pretending as though they were was as good a way as any of passing the time. And so, Danev continued the act. "Then you…then you have other perfectly reasonable and pleasant individuals as well like Boss over here."
"Hmph," Boss grumbled, turning back towards his control panel and resuming his last checks.
There was still time, and a hollow silence that needed filling, and so Zek spoke up again, now directed towards me, asking, "What about you, Aegis?"
"Hrm?" I asked, my brain having already drifted off and not being able to piece together what it was that he was asking me.
"Islander or colonial?"
"Are you fucking stupid, Zek?" Hizo asked. It was more of a rhetorical question, however.
"What?" Zek protested in his defense.
"If his prepubescent ass was an islander he'd be living the high life in the capital city royal academy right now. That little killer's colonial."
Better than being called 'little shit,' I supposed.
"Neither," Boss spoke up. "Unincorporated territory. City called Taisho, just east of here."
"Huh," Zek mused. "No shit? How you know that, Boss?"
"Because I'm literate and know how to read the paperwork company command sends us."
Zek elected to ignore the reprimand, and instead turned his attention back to me, asking, "So how the fuck you wind up here?"
That…it would have been a story, but fortunately, it was not one I would need to tell. Just at least. There was a knock on our hull that Zek mistook for a single half second as a hostile projectile, calming down soon after when we all realized that our reinforcements had finally arrived, indicated by a muffled question from the other side.
"This Shanzi?"
Boss reached up, unlatched the lock of the pilots' bay hatch, and opened it.
"You're late" Boss said as soon as he could see the man on the other side.
I couldn't see what Boss did from his same angle, but through the gunner's port of my turret, I had a perfect line of sight on the Fire Nation soldier, bearing a sergeant's markings, hunched over the front hatchway
"But yeah," Boss said. "That's us. All here?"
"Boarding as we speak," the squad leader said.
They were. I could hear as well as see them crawling their way up the chassis and struggling for space, the surface area of a Fire Nation tank's upper portion not quite the most accommodating for 8 people seated, especially in such a state as they were. They seemed to have had no less an eventful last night as Boss and the others, their uniforms hastily-equipped, their struggles to climb up Shanzi's exterior akin to that of a two-legged cat trying to climb a soup kitchen gutter.
No different from that same cat I still had fond memories of to this day, they did, however, in time, manage, even if that meant one had found a seat atop my turret for the moment. A short moment it would be as I slammed a foot down on the right pedal, spinning my turret immediately starboard, knocking the soldier off of his self-appointed throne.
I stifled my laughter as I heard the jubilant and mocking congratulations of the soldiers aboard in response to their comrade's curse-ridden tumble, a few of those damnations directed immediately towards me.
The squad commander, who'd taken notice of the debacle, dismissed it all entirely, and with a smile I likened to that of an exhausted but amused parent, extended a hand to Boss. "Hanzek," he said. "21st Battalion, 74th Company, Anteater Platoon, Squad 2, but you can just call me Zek for short if you like."
"Nope!" the real Zek exclaimed from the co-pilot's seat.
Boss paid no heed to Zek's complaint, and so instead took the sergeant's hand and shook it, stating, "Boss," as he did.
"Subtle, huh?" Hanzek said in response to the name. "Sorry to hold you up; we were grabbing some supplies for the road."
"We're overdue by 25 minutes," Boss said. "We're not salaried, you know."
"Yeah, well, you haven't even seen what we picked up yet. Here. Our form of apology.
I hadn't expected much from the late arrivals beyond a half-baked excuse and a quarter-assed apology, but I sure as hell hadn't been anticipating the bottle of wine that Hanzek produced from his pack and extended towards Boss now.
I crouched down from my turret to try and get a better sight of what was being handed our way. I didn't know how exactly to quantify the worth of alcohol, but I knew well enough how to read Boss's face and Zek's "Fuckin' hell," to know that it wasn't cheap.
"Where the hell you get that?" Zek asked.
"Call it a gift from rear echelon to support our boys on the front. Sorry we missed the party from the last few days, but we're ready to remind the Earth Kingdom we're now.
"All's forgiven," Boss said, accepting the 'gift' and handing it to the eager hands of Zek. "You boys settled in up top?"
"Mhm. Ready on your word. You lot got the route and the transport, we're just along for the ride and the fresh air."
There was no point in mentioning that they were also a form of human shield that stood between Earth Kingdom guerillas and a hundred thousand gold piece of Fire Nation proprietary technology.
"Glad we're in agreement. Brakes up and treads roll in thirty seconds; make sure you all got a good seat."
Hanzek smiled. "'Bout time."
With that, he stood to find his position up top, and my angle from my turret allowed me to spy that his men had left a seat open for him near the front, blocking the view from my gun.
Well shit, I thought, knowing damn well it'd only be a matter of time before I had to go up top myself to keep a better look out.
I heard the tank hatch close above Boss, who now turned behind himself to say, "All crew, strap in! Hizo, bring Shanzi out of standby; get her rolling."
"Aye, sir!" Came the call from us all in response.
Boss and Zek tightened their safety harnesses as I now secured my own, certain it wouldn't last long, however. It was no big deal, I decided. Soon enough anyway, I'd be glad for the fresh air and the wind against my face.
Hizo brought the dormant Shanzi into an angry resuscitation, drowning out any and all remaining chatter from the soldiers up top. What I would have given for them to be men of the 114th.
I decided soon after, however, that it was for the best. Better not to confuse my job and my friends. I was here to man the gun, keep overwatch, and burn to bits whatever the hell was stupid enough to try to kill my crew or the men up top.
And what a job it is.
Danev
I didn't know how I felt about having off-time.
No, I knew exactly how I felt about it.
It was great, a life-saver, the one thing I would never think to ask for in spite of needing it more than anything else in the moment, but that only went so far as the condition that it went mutually for all of us.
At this moment, that condition was not met. It was supposed to be the 114th's day off, our action two days prior considered sufficient cause for us to be held on the line, separate from the scouting operations of the day.
The exclusion of the 114th from formal operations, however, did not exclude volunteers from our ranks from offering their services to aid understaffed squads.
Had I known, I would have been right there with them.
Had Rulaan known, well, there was a nonzero chance that he would have hogtied any such volunteer until the moment that every single motor video had left the encampment. But instead, we'd woken up this morning to four soldiers from across the company, Chejuh, Shozi, Homun, and to our surprise, Ele, missing, having left with the patrols into hostile territory, leaving Rulaan pacing frantically across our line as though that'd bring them back any quicker.
He'd stated an intent to go out himself and find the missing troops, but I'd shut down that idea just as quick as he had spoken it. It was bad enough that the four of them had left without our knowing, especially the fact that two of the men, Chejuh and Shozi, were from my platoon, Dragon. It hardly reflected well on me, but I supposed the same went for lieutenant Cheno, who was already preaching his intent to kill Ele and Homun as soon as they got back if the Earth Kingdom didn't do it for him.
He was, of course, kidding, more annoyed than nervous as Rulaan was.
I, on the other hand, was frustrated on two counts. One being that Chejuh and Shozi hadn't consulted me first, and the other being that I wasn't out there with them. I wasn't quite sure why I felt that way. Back with the Hornets, I'd become more than accustomed to sending men to carry out Riu's orders, but I was his chief enforcer. If there was something I wanted to be a part of, I was there at the front, not waiting here on the sidelines waiting to hear news back from those out there in my stead.
But of course, thinking about only that wouldn't bring them back any faster.
"You should sit," I said to Rulaan. "Or check in with the other platoons, talk with logistics for requisitions, something."
"And if something happens while I'm gone?" Rulaan snapped.
"Then so what?" I asked, looking up from a game of cards that I was playing with an invisible opponent. "It's a day patrol that started just an hour ago. "Brigade has men on standby to send reinforcements if anything happens, and you know it won't be us they send out for rescue."
"So they're prepared for trouble," Rulaan said, as though that was some indication of his fears being warranted.
"Brigade's ready for trouble that can happen between camp and the latrines. You can relax, Rulaan."
"What? And sit down and play cards?"
"That, or do anything fucking else," I said as calmly as I could. "You're only making the company more nervous. If they didn't think shit was bad before, they will now just from looking at you."
That tone was bold, none that I ever would have taken with Aozon unless I was specifically looking to piss him off, which, granted, wasn't the most uncommon back when he'd still been captain rather than a pile of guts in an Earth Kingdom minefield. But with Rulaan, things were different. It helped in some part that he was made cut from the same stone as me, the sandcrete walls of Taisho's slums, where unless you were ready to say it as direct as possible, your words didn't mean shit. They were the laws of the slums, and laws that we all in part still lived by.
I could see the the physical expression of Rulaan's demeanor beginning to fade, seeing my point by force rather than by choice. If there was one thing that could always be reliably used as leverage against him, it was consideration for his men, and once more, it did precisely the trick.
He shut his eyes for a moment, and nodded, saying now something he'd clearly been trying to forget himself, "Brigade command was company captains together today to put together vague plans of advance, any updates pending information from the patrols of course."
"Then go," I said.
"You'll hold down the fort?"
"Of course."
"And send a runner my way if you hear anything from our guys?"
He wasn't letting that go, but I understood his point, and no doubt would have made a similar request if in his shoes. "I will," I said.
And that was good enough for him. Rulaan stayed stood in one place for another quarter minute more, clearly still breaking away from his prior pacing trance, and then, finally, fully made his advance towards responsibility and uncertainty, and left.
It was a quiet day in our trench line. Most men were still catching up on sleep following a night of reveling in the various luxuries that the Earth Kingdom had left behind, comparative to our own provisions at least. Which made it all the more wonder to me how the hell they'd gotten up in time to even stage such a 'mutiny' if one could even call it that, volunteering themselves for such a thing when, by all counts, they should have been hungover out of their minds.
It was just another question to ask them when they got back on top of when this had all been organized, and by who.
The day passed quietly for the most part, especially with Dragon's two primary troublemakers out of the picture.
Murao was going through the medical supplies that Earth Kingdom forces had left behind, tending to the minor recovering injuries of the men who'd taken hits during our capture of this trench.
Tosa had already begun drafting up new names to give to each of the winding tunnels and passageways of our trench line, each more vulgar and raunchy than the last, a part of him clearly not expecting to stay long, but an equal part of him likely hoping we would just so he could say aloud the name, "Pissway" and get away with it.
Mano, meanwhile, worked in semi-conjunction with Tosa, more concerned, however, with keeping the passageways stable and from collapsing in on us rather than ascribing to them entertaining names. A few of the men from across Dragon assisted Mano where and how they could, but couldn't do much with their limited building supplies and material compared to Mano, an earthbender who with a single lift of his arm could uncollapse a passageway, secure a wall double our heart, and dig a latrine pit in the same time it would've taken for us to fetch necessary materials from logistics.
Even when it started to rain at around midday, bringing a thick cover of clouds across the plains, Mano worked still, standing in the rain as he patched the roofs of the barracks, pantry, and kitchen, and later enjoying the labors of such a roof to clean the interiors just as the rain had finally stopped.
It was around such a time that I stepped out, needing a break from helping Mano however little I could to take in a breath of the post-rain air.
The darkening sky of late afternoon was still shrouded by the thick cloud cover of the passing storm, but even those dark gray forms couldn't hide the distinctive light of a red signal flare fired up into the air, due north, at least a full mile and a half to miles away, but still as clear as day.
An emergency signal flare.
Shit.
I hadn't been the only one to notice it. Already, a crowd had formed, the sight of one person looking over the trench wall enough to attract another, the two of them enough to attract two more, and so and so forth until until at least a third of the company stood at the edge of the trench line, looking ahead, waiting for a second flare that wouldn't come, all left wondering in silence the same thing.
Is that them?
"Danev," I heard a voice speak, belonging surprisingly not to a man from Dragon, but rather to Chenu, lieutenant of Bat. "What do-"
"Send a runner to Rulaan at Brigade command," I said immediately. "Inform them that at least one scouting group is reported compromised, and that we await further orders.
Chenu nodded, and turned immediately to a man by his side to relay those exact same words. But even as he left, only more men from across the company joined us where we stood above our trench line, looking ahead into the darkening evening, not an ounce of evidence to prove it, but all of us thinking the exact same thing.
Those are our men out there.
And we have to do something about it.
Aegis
The world ahead of me, it was as alien as anything else I had ever faced.
Never until I left the walls of Taisho had I known how far the horizon extended. Soldiers spoke of the majesty of Ba Sing Se's walls as thought the stuff of legends, so large that they could go from one side of the world as far as the eyes could see to the other, but walls that spanned the sky had been my life for as long as I knew it.
It wasn't the walls of Ba Sing Se that kept me in awe, it was its fields, spanning for tens if not hundreds of miles. Vast green plains and hills interrupted by flowing rivers dotted by the occasional farmhouse, it was everything that Taisho wasn't. I could have been told that I'd been brought into the spirit world and I'd have believed it.
For a few seconds at least.
Awe could only last for so long, and we'd been driving for a good hour.
Were we driving in a straight line, I hadn't a single doubt we'd have by now reached the river ahead of us, but patrol routes were rarely so simple as a single line. Instead, our route was one based entirely around the terrain which we were scouting, its height and depths, buildings, farm ground, and everything in between.
I didn't know a lot about this world I found myself in, but I still knew a damn good bit about what it took to hide, to blend in with the world around you. I could hardly have told you which bush was real and which was one that hid a foxhole, which hill sat barren and which hid a squad of earthbenders behind it just by looking, but I knew enough to know the reasoning behind what we did.
And in that same vein, I knew enough to realize that I couldn't do my job from the limited view my turret provided, surrounded on all sides by passenger Fire Nation soldiers, and I could scare bid them to move with every motion of the turret that I made, which left, of course, a single option.
I could use the fresh air anyway.
Opening the hatch of my turret attracted a few eyes turning my way, all seemingly equally surprised by my sudden emergence, one in particular reacting more strongly than others as I climbed out, "Oh so there's the asshole who knocked my ass off the gun."
The comment attracted a few chuckles and I was thankful for the firebender's helmet that hid my face, allowing myself to process in the time it took that the atmosphere was of the levity that would allow me to respond with equal snark, saying, "Didn't want you leaving a stench."
That attracted a few more chuckles directed towards the soldier I felled as they seemed to be passing around an extra bottle of wine, obviously not having given Boss their only one. The moment allowed me to easily find a seat for myself atop the turret, closing the hatch behind me to offer more sitting space. I was right about one thing at least, the fresh air was nice.
Nicer too when I allowed myself the moment to actually remove my helmet, placing it beside me on my turret. I hadn't stopped to consider how such a thing might elicit a reaction from the troops seated beside me, but all it took was a single soldier noticing that their firebender gunner had the face of a fourteen year old to change that.
"Fuckin' hell," he said, drawing my attention towards him, not realizing what the hell he was talking about until I saw that he was staring right at me, at which point he said, apparently still in disbelief. "You're a kid."
If 14 years was what passed for a kid, then I supposed I was, but it'd been a damned long time since I'd felt like one. I watched as other heads now turned my way, immediately regretting my decision to sit atop, wondering if perhaps it was too late to slink back down the hatch into my turret and disappear.
It was, of course, but I stood my ground, or, rather, sat it, just looking back, waiting perhaps for a challenge that would come, a question of my capabilities.
"Problem?" I asked.
"I don't know," the soldier responded. "Maybe."
"Hey knock it off, Ojom," another soldier said.
"I'm just saying," the soldier, Ojom, continued. "Was hoping we were in good hands. Not those of some kid straight out of the academy."
"If it makes you feel better, I didn't come from a fucking academy," I answered.
"Oh, so untrained too."
"Knock it off, private," Sergeant Hanzek said. "Wouldn't be here if he couldn't hold his own."
"Don't know about that, sir. Greenies coming in left and right these days, who can really say?"
I didn't have anything to prove, but no differently, I also didn't have any time to put up with his bullshit. If there was a way to shut him up quick that didn't involve burning his face off, I'd take it. As such, I grabbed my helmet from the turret beside me, tossing it his way. "There," I said. "Count em yourself."
"Yeah?" the man scoffed, turning his eyes towards the tally marks. "And what the fuck are these supposed to…be?" His voice slowed as he asked. He knew. Of course he did. The man was clumsy, but even he wasn't this much of an idiot.
"Wanna guess?"
The helmet had attracted more than just one viewer, other soldiers of the squad now carefully crawling their way to this side to get a view of the helmet and its 62 tally marks, likely more than this squad put together if I was to guess. Maybe for some that was a boast, but it was more than that, a mark of quality, that I knew what I was here to do, and would do it again.
"How," another soldier started, everything from his widened eyes to his slowed speech indicating the weight of those numbers. "How long've you been deployed here?" He asked.
"Half a year," I answered, holding my hand out to take the helmet back. Ojom surrendered it. "And I lost count three months ago," I added, setting the helmet back down on the turret beside me. "Any more questions?"
There was a pause. I felt almost bad too. Just over a minute ago, the mood atop the tank had been jovial and no different from that of a post-mission celebration. Not anymore. At least, not for that moment. That'd change soon enough when a voice behind where I was facing spoke up, asking simply, "Want a drink?"
Turning, I saw him, darker skinned than the others, a smile on his face as he outstretched the bottle towards me, any concern of age immediately dismissed, gone behind us with the wind.
I didn't decline.
I took the bottle, not bothering to sniff as I took a swig, and immediately regretted it. I would have been thankful to have the helmet on my head right then so it could hide the more than blatant discomfort, but I wasn't privy to that luxury, struggling, and failing, to keep a straight face as it burned down my throat and eventually found its end in my stomach.
I ideally would have liked to maintain the stoicism expected of a man who'd just finished discussing the lives he ended, but we were past that point as my stomach churned, and I let out a bellow that threatened to become something worse until it finally stopped itself before it was too late.
But if it was any consolation, the mood atop the tank had been restored, and as I handed the bottle back to Ojom, I knew I wouldn't need to retreat back into the Shanzi. Not yet at least.
The wind felt nicer against my face with my helmet off, allowing myself the moment to look at the world around me, a battlefield yet to be.
It doesn't have to, I thought.
The Earth Kingdom might already have retreated, gone back to their inner wall, surrendered the outer ring. What purpose was there in holding out here anyway? We had the numbers, the supplies, it was only a matter of time anyway until they were pushed back to the inner wall anyway. They had to realize that.
So why let the war touch this world? I wondered. Why turn this into a warzone? Why fight? Why not end it all now?
I'd thought I'd sufficiently taught myself not to ask such questions as these a long time ago, but it appeared that I'd been wrong in that. Looking around, it was impossible to not, for a single moment, ask what it was worth, to ask if I was willing to give up a world like this too if it meant protecting what was mine.
And what even is mine?
I stopped myself there. Every question had limits to its use, and this line of questioning had exhausted its. So, I only looked ahead, letting the time tick by and the clouds of a storm rolling in, myself scanning the farmhouses on the horizon, the fields left bare from a harvest unsewn, and the scattered hills that divided this world into miniscule peaks and valleys.
And then, because no good thing could ever last, a fault in that beauty.
Atop a hill in the distance, a house. Beside that house, a glint of light that didn't belong. But what?
I knocked on the tank chassis below me, attracting now the attention of the soldiers beside me who hadn't seemed to notice what I had.
I opened the hatch, and craned my head inside enough to catch sight of Boss and Zek's heads turn to face me.
"What's going on, Aegis?" Boss asked.
"Think I see something," I said. "Due right, seventy-five degrees, the house on the hill!"
"Hizo!" Boss called.
"Assisting turn!" Hizo answered.
Already feeling the shift of the tank below me, I returned to my perch on the turret, grabbing my helmet with my offhand, steadying myself with the other as I turned my head to face back towards the house.
I forced myself to ignore the confused chatter of the Fire Nation soldiers who knew without question that something, if not everything was wrong. Some turned towards Hanzek to ask for explanation, others towards me, some appearing just about ready to to jump off of the tank at a moment's notice.
And maybe for the best.
In just the last few seconds, the sun's influence on the earth had lost its might, and the glint was gone. In its place, however, was something else, something worse. A Fire Nation artillery cannon, directed straight towards us.
Something in the wind shifted.
Thunder struck somewhere. No. Not thunder.
The earth exploded beside us, dirt and fragments of the fired shell flying into the air, colliding against Shanzi's hull.
"Cover!" I yelled to the soldiers. "Now!"
As for me, I was already moving. Lacking any time to put my helmet on before letting myself practically fall through the hatch, onto my seat.
"Under fire!" I heard Zek yell amidst the chaos.
"No shit!" I called back, turning the turret to face the artillery piece, and, with any luck, get off at least a good enough shot to delay their next attempt to blow us to bits.
The gun would prove to be the least of our concerns, however. I'd attributed the shaking of the earth to the shell that'd struck beside us, not realizing however, that out of the slope of the hill directly beside us, a pair of earthbenders had emerged, our unarmored infantry directly in their sights.
And they opened fire.
"Contact starboard!"
I heard first the scattered ptings of the rapidly fired rocks hitting our starboard side, the screams of infantry being immediately cut off, Hanzek's desperate orders, equally cut off, the smashing of a bottle, the crumpling of a body against the side of the tank.
I finally had my turret turned sufficiently to face the source of the barrage only to find my view blocked by a Fire Nation soldier scooting back along the side of the tank as though that would save him, only for the next burst of shots to find him dead center.
They tore through him, his blood exploding out the other side of his body, directly into the slit of my turret, directly into my unprotected face.
I must have blinked in time for none of the blood to get into my eyes, but I couldn't have been sure. All the world was to me in that moment was the light of the outside world disrupted by a corpse slumped against my turret, the smell of wine, and the taste of copper in the air.
Be it a blind fit of rage, or some instinctual understanding that to put it on would have allowed them the chance to escape, I neglected my helmet, throwing open the hatch above me, and standing atop my seat to afford myself a view of the two men now, a pair of earthbenders too busy trying to get a line of sight on the remaining friendly soldiers huddling behind Shanzi to notice me.
It would be their own fault that my next fireball would land square in between the two of them, only slightly closer to the one on the right, near wholly tearing off his left leg from the force alone while the flames quickly spread to his comrade beside him, bringing him to the ground with a pained squeal that reminded me more of a muddied pig than a man.
"Contact port!" I heard from inside. I was quick. Quick enough to see the cannon and call for action. Quick enough to take advantage of the earthbenders' lapse in judgment. Quick enough to spot the new pair as their appeared to my left. But not quick enough to stop them.
I didn't know how many of our soldiers were still hiding their on that side of the tank, but I knew from their screams that it was more than one as they were cut down by the new earthbenders' rapid fire.
I was quick. I pushed myself to the top of the tank, providing myself the perfect angle required to get my line of sight on them and let out a stream of fire that consumed them both, but not quick enough to save the lives of the men they killed. Not quick enough to notice the second strike of thunder in time. Not quick enough to get back inside Shanzi by the time that the next artillery shell hit, striking Shanzi's forward starboard tread.
The impact knocked me to the ground like I was little more than a sack of provisions stacked atop the tank. By the time I realized I was on the ground, my eyes were opened to the sight of Ojom's dead eyes taring at me, wide with fear, the last thing he would see being the world opening beside him and death pouring out from below.
But there was still a third thunderstrike to come. There still was a disabled tank to my side, and 3 more pairs of dead eyes just waiting to stare back at me with that same fear, that same lifeless shock, and all if the next shot was allowed to find home.
It wouldn't.
I scrambled to my feet, hearing the struggle of Shanzi to move, her right most tread completely dislodged, the bare cleats digging into rock without chance of moving forward. She was an open target, ripe for the taking, and no doubt the gun's loaders were already preparing to see to just that.
Finding the house wasn't hard. Knowing where the cannon sat wasn't quite as easy. They'd moved it, securing a better angle, but it made no difference. I saw the house. That would be enough.
It has to be.
I felt that pull of energy begin to grow.
Because if not.
I reached my hands forward, felt the heat grow into the air.
They're dead.
I felt that energy course through me, through my blood, a constant flow of energy with a single target.
Dead like the others.
The ones who fired first.
All on my hands.
And then release.
I hardly had time to realize what had happened before the fog in my vision left, leaving me only with the sight of the plains ahead of me, a single hill, and a plume of smoke that wafted from a single point of origin–an inferno that consumed the whole of the hill.
The third thunderstrike had come.
But not for us.
The enemy was dead, and as I turned, back to the dead and dying of our infantry attachment, and my own crew leaving now to take it all in, it was no consolation.
Our men were dead, and I hadn't been quick enough. 8 dead and dying in the blink of an eye, lives that could have been spared, but weren't. Because I hadn't noticed in time. Because I hadn't been quick enough. Because we were in enemy territory, and for a moment too long, I'd let myself forget that.
It wouldn't happen again.
Danev
Rulaan's meeting with Brigade command had ended prematurely.
And hardly by choice of the Brigade.
Cheno's runner, Raza, had done his job, and relayed the message direct to Rulaan' and, subsequently, the command structure of our entire unit. The message was a simple one: emergency flare from patrols.
Of course, in the time that it'd taken Raza to report to command and for Rulaan to come racing back with orders to stay put that he clearly had no intention of following, the situation had since evolved.
In the last thirty minutes, I'd counted seven red emergency flares that'd been fired into the sky, all having since died out, but their message clear–the results of the scouting had come back conclusive. The enemy was present, and their retreat had been anything but final.
We were still in the midst of debating whether what we were facing was simply a staggered retreat or the opening shots of a guerilla campaign by the time Rulaan had finally made his way back to our trench line, damn near scaring the hell out of us by merit of the sun having set in the time we'd been watching the growing chaos on the northern horizon.
"Where's your watch?" He asked, having reached the perch atop our trenches where we were watching the forming no man's land from without so much as a question of his identity.
He didn't wait for an answer, however, quickly enough joining the rest of us as we watched with the answer he knew we were all waiting for.
"Brigade gave the order," he started, turning the attention of all in attendance towards him, just waiting to hear that we had the go ahead to get involved.
We would not.
"They're not sending out recovery teams. Scouting teams went out with orders to light flares to mark positions upon deadly enemy contact, but not to expect recovery. They don't want us losing any more men than necessary to ambushes."
"Then," Murao started, "They were being sent to die? Why the hell even bother sending infantry as support then?"
"They weren't being sent to die," I told myself as much as I was telling him when pondering the same question. "The idea is to make it back, and sending a tank alone with no support is a certain death sentence while sending them with backup is…only half of one."
Eight flares up out of three dozen crews sent out. 25 percent intercepted and engaged, and of those, how many total casualties? Certainly a lot less than it would have been if not equipped with any support whatsoever, but still. I had to wonder.
"But why the hell send tanks out?" I asked, turning to Rulaan, hoping, maybe, there would be some insight he had to offer that was completely evading me. "Their numbers are scarce as is. Can they really afford more losses there?"
"They can now," Rulaan said. "We've taken the wall, secured it, and pushed forward. I can't say if the request has already been made, but there's no reason for the Fire Nation to deny a request for reinforcements anymore. We actually have the chance to end this war now and I'll be damned if the Fire Nation doesn't throw everything they have at it."
"Meaning we all just became that bit more expendable," Hash sighed, something in his posture weakening right then.
"And then that they don't give a damn what happens to the men out there," Murao added.
The men out there, I thought. In enemy territory, we now knew, surrounded. What are their odds, I wondered. For Ele, Homun, Shozi, and Chejuh? And for Fluke.
Knowing his luck, and the benefit of a firebender in the field, there was a damn good chance that he was of those three-dozen, and quite possibly those eight flares.
And I knew their chances were a damn lot lower too with us just sitting here on our asses, and, as such, it was a question that was not out of the question to ask.
"Our orders, sir?" I asked Rulaan, still facing him.
His eyes were set dead ahead of him, eyes on what in particular, which of the eight flares that touched the sky, I couldn't say, but I knew precisely the order before he could say it.
"We're moving out."
He turned to face us now, knowing the gravity of what he was asking.
"One team of no more than four. Any more than that, there's a damn good chance we just wind up more useless casualties. What I'm suggesting is a breach in your orders, and, under normal circumstances, would be considered a mutiny if reported. As I intend to be going out myself, I can hardly report any such infractions that-"
"Captain," I said, his last words of note to me, and not for good reason. "May I advise against the company commander disobeying orders and going on an unsanctioned rescue mission into no man's land? Especially when we don't even know where our men even are?"
"You may, lieutenant," he answered, myself knowing it was a wasted effort the moment I started speaking. "But fortunately, we do know exactly where they went. I didn't come out of my meeting with the brigade with just bad news."
It was then that from his person, Rulaan produced precisely what he spoke of, a map. One, I imagined, that detailed the movements of each patrol that'd been dispatched, their routes, and their return vectors. Forcing myself to contain a smile, I had to admit, Rulaan had more of the streets left in him than he cared to admit.
Shall I take it that you're volunteering to come protect your commander then?" he asked.
While I would rather have been volunteering without the prospect of the 114th's commander catching an arrow to the eye, me going out there was a given the moment that first flare went up. "Of course," I said.
And it was a damned good thing I spoke too because as soon as I was done, my primacy based solely on the fact that I'd interrupted Rulaan's call to action, so too did the other volunteers step forward. Nearly all two-hundred and fifty of them. If one thing was to be said, it was that we weren't lacking for able bodies.
Only two were to be chosen though, and solely on account of them being closest to Rulaan when he had started speaking, we were to go out with Jame of Dragon platoon, and Amorok of Cat.
"Anybody else follow," Rulaan said as soon as our gear, already on our backs, had been gathered and we were ready to leave, "You're being reported for disobeying a superior officer."
While the comment had attracted a few laughs, the understanding was there than our company captain was dead serious. He wasn't letting anybody else get killed today, not without him there to be able to do whatever he could to stop it.
Even if putting himself right in an arrow's way, I thought as soon I was sure we had snuck past our division's encampment's perimeter without being spotted. But there was nothing that could be done on that front. Rulaan was a leader of his people, for better or worse. If there was any value to his life that Rulaan was prepared to die by, it was that.
I only hoped it didn't come to that.
Aegis
"Hold on the flare," Boss ordered just as soon as I had finished loading the shell into the pistol, ready to mark our position.
I looked at Boss, ready to inquire as to why, and found that I wasn't alone in this question, Zek and Hizo affording him the selfsame look as they dragged the last of the Fire Nation bodies away from the tank in an organized line, ready to be gathered in the hopes that our front line passed this way soon enough for them to be recovered.
Boss didn't wait for me to inquire as to why before saying, "We'll only draw attention."
"That's…the idea?" Zek half-stated, half-asked, wiping his hands on his uniform's faulds. "Division will be sending a recovery team will they not?"
"They might," Boss answered. "But more likely than not they'll pray we manage to extract ourselves before whatever Earth Kingdom's hiding in the area decides to finish the job for us. Flare's good for one thing–marking where we went down if we're currently under fire."
"Which we're not," I said, understanding. The flare was less to mark our position and more to mark where we encountered Earth Kingdom ambushes. Likely, they would relocate, but it was one step in mapping the hostile concentration of this terra incognita. "No point marking the position of dead men," I finished.
Boss nodded. "We're still alive, so we'll get ourselves out of this. Hizo, I want your eyes on the treads; see how long a repair will take. Zek, Aegis, get up that hill, make sure that gun's disabled. If it's not, finish the job."
"Really think anything survived that blast?" Zek asked, and I found myself almost flattered by the question, but as much as I would have liked to believe he was right in believing nothing had, I didn't want to take that chance. Didn't want to take the chance of anybody walking out of there alive.
"No, but that's what I want you to verify. Go."
An order was an order, and it was one I was happy to oblige. It beat the stench of death left behind by the fallen mixed with the aroma of wine that'd spilled down the side of the Shanzi, mixing with the blood of the men who'd cracked it open just an hour and a half prior to dying with it still in their bellies.
Men who I could've saved.
Men who were dead because the Earth Kingdom was so determined to turn every acre of this world into a death trap that would consume them as well as us. But what did they care? They believed their deaths sealed for them the moment that wall fell. All the meaning left for their lives was equated with how many of ours they managed to end along with them.
So I couldn't take the chance of even a single man on that hill being left alive.
Just a quarter of a mile away, I wondered how I hadn't noticed it sooner. It sure as hell stood out now, smoke billowing from the point of impact, the flames having since been extinguished by the drizzling rain and the lack for more flammable material to consume.
Instead, a hollowed stone structure remained, half having collapsed in on itself for a lack of wooden support beams to keep it standing. So too had the artillery piece, now confirmed by its remains to have been Fire Nation in origin, been rendered completely useless on account of its barrel having melted off, my fireball igniting its shell in the fractions of a second before it could be fired.
"Body," I said, eyeing the corpse that slumped over the firing mechanism of the cannon, the entire back of his body charredm and judging by the impossibility of trying to pull him free of the gun, his front fused by heat to the barrel.
"Another over here," Zek said from inside what was left of the house.
I stepped over the remains of the wall that went about a foot high at most and entered the horse, spotting what Zek was referring to-a pair of legs that poked out from beneath a pile of debris. Had he been an earthbender, he might've had a chance, but those they'd sent down to ambush us, keeping such nonbenders as this to deliver death from afar.
That's the miracle of technology, I thought to myself. Even nonbenders rain hell on the field. Give them a few more decades and we'll be obsolete. Good timing too, I considered, looking back at the hill where four earthbender corpses now lay. This world's sure as hell running out.
The two bodies aside, there wasn't much to make note of. A small overnight camp had been established, but hardly with enough provisions to mark a permanent position. All else that'd caught my eye was the third sleeping mat, and a faint trail of blood that led away from the house, and down the hill.
"There," I said, pointing towards the trail. "Blood. One got away."
"Got visual?" Zek asked.
I followed, stepping out of the building, passing by the doorway that somehow had remained standing even when all else had fallen around it.
The hill shifted downwards, and the trail continued, until it didn't, at least not so far as I could see with the intensifying rain.
"What are we looking at?" a voice asked behind me. Boss.
"Survivor, Aegis, thinks," Zek said. "Blood leading away from the house."
"Lot of it," Boss said, approaching my side, visually following the same trail as I did. "Couldn't've made it more than a hundred yards."
"Or they made it further," I offered, my eyes still trying to make out where the trail went and how far it did through the sheets of rain that've begun to come down with renewed intensity. "Could bring more enemies our way."
"In this rain cover they're just as likely to walk into an ambush as stage one. They're staying where they are."
"Unless they don't," I muttered to myself.
Boss didn't respond to that, and probably with good reason, choosing instead to update us as to our present situation, saying, "Hizo's thinking he can get Shanzi retreaded by nightfall. We'll use the raincover to stay hidden, move out once we're fit and pathfind a way back that doesn't take us back the way we came."
"Way we can help?" Zek asked.
Boss nodded. "Need you helping Hizo down there. Aegis, want you up here, keeping watch. If you're right and company comes this way, we'll need you as advance warning."
So he's considering the threat.
"I can follow the path," I offered. "Can't have gotten far; I can tie up the loose end."
"Or you can walk into another trap. Keep position up here, and keep an eye out for us. Need you to make sure nothing like this happens again, clear?"
"But wouldn't it be better to just-"
"Hold position!" Boss said. And if he didn't mean it before, he did now.
And so those were my orders.
"Yes, sir," I said.
Boss nodded, and turned to Zek. "Come on. Let's get back down to the Shanzi."
So the two left, leaving me atop that hill to maintain watch. I was grateful for the small segment of house that still stood and shielded me from the battering rain, but that it didn't quite have the same success in warding off the cold wind brought by the storm. Even with my uniform, poncho, and a small fire I'd lit in front of me, it was impossible to get warm, to stop that same bothersome shiver than was running down my spine.
It took me longer than it should have to realize it wasn't on account of the cold.
He's still out there, I knew, the blood trail still leading away from the point of impact where part of my blast, some debris, or something else had struck them. He'd fallen first judging by the larger puzzle and the smear where he'd dragged himself to the doorway, then pulled himself up, leaving too his blood on the frame.
From there he'd left, letting his blood run onto the grass, now being washed away from the rain, hiding his tracks.
He's going to get away.
I looked back the direction of the Shanzi. Boss was more than likely right. That much blood, the man wouldn't survive the next hour, but if he did, if he was found…I could just imagine watching the Shanzi erupt into a ball of fire, picture its metallic husk buried beneath the ground, its crew still alive with no way of digging themselves out, an unmarked grave and the perfect site to continue to stage an ambush for any future passerby who made the same mistake as us.
We were vulnerable, dead in the water, the rain the only thing shielding us.
That and me. Their aegis.
And what the hell am I doing? I wondered, turning to look down the hill. Watching from up here? Watching for what? The enemy? I already found them.
I looked back at the Shanzi for the second time now, losing track of them for a moment through the sheet of downpour that damn-near rendered them invisible.
The Earth Kingdom was blind to them, with only one exception. My job was to keep an eye out for the enemy and prevent an attack. That's what I was going to do then.
I never grew up hating the rain as a lot of other kids my age did. In Taisho's slums, rain was the closest thing we could experience to divine intervention. I would find the tallest building I could on days like that, lie flat on my back with every open container I could find and my mouth wide open to try and collect however much of it as I could to last me the weeks until it rained again. I would be lucky to make it to the night with even one of my containers, Taisho ripe with those who saw more value in profiting off of others' hard work rather than their own, but it would be the lesson I would end up needing to realize down the road the other uses that rain had–to hide noise, cover my tracks, and let me steal it all back.
Plus a little extra.
I could hear nothing as I descended the hill, including my own breathing past the constant patter of the rain against my poncho and armor.
I was still able to make out where the droplets against the ground appeared more red than they should have, and so followed what was left of the trail as best as I could, down the first hill, beyond the unsewn field left vacant by war, and seemingly what appeared a series of small hills not far off.
I followed what I believed to be the trail up the side of one hill, my efforts to follow growing more and more strained with each step I took forward on account of its fading visibility, but it wouldn't be faded visibility that proved my greatest danger.
Another step, and the ground beneath me, more mud than solid ground, gave way, sliding my left leg down the hill and bring the rest of me along with it. I managed in time to catch myself let I fall onto my back or my face, but did nearly collapse forward, just barely catching myself against the ground with my bare hands that returned from the ground muddied and, to my surprise, the faintest hint of red.
Mine? I wondered.
If mine, I couldn't much feel the injury it'd come from, but if not, I could hardly tell just where it had come from, or where it had gone.
The trail was gone.
Looking behind me, I could scarce remember the trail that had led me up to this point, much less follow where it went from here. In the earth's fullest determination to shield those who waged war in its name, it'd shrouded this man from me, and was resolved to continue to do so. But I wasn't ready to let up.
The only passable terrain was between the two hills I stood before, and so I continued forward, scanning the ground for even the slightest sign that would give me clause to pursue my prey, but there was nothing, not even as lightning raced across the sky and lit my way just to make out the earth for a single second long enough to see past the thick curtain of downpour.
But maybe it was that flash of lightning that'd showed me something, or the faintest of noises that I'd made out past the crack of thunder that followed, but something inclined me to turn my head to the right, and so I did.
Much alike the alcoves that the earthbenders had earlier sprung out of to ambush the Shanzi, there was a hollow in the hill, the slightest concave entrance that led to a humble hovel, devoid of any decor or substance but for the man, no, the boy that huddled within, two hands on his side to contain the blood that spilled out of him, and two eyes staring at me.
I wasn't accustomed to seeing people my own age out here. I knew myself young for the standards of the military I fought for, but it'd taken me time, more than it should have, to realize that if the Fire Nation was desperate, then the Earth Kingdom was down to their last gamble, scraping the barrel for each and every person old enough to stand on two feet and carry a weapon.
In no other world should this person have been a soldier, but he wore a uniform, carried a weapon, and had helped to kill my friends, and so he was.
I stood watching him, and he sat with his back against the wall, watching me back, perhaps believing that if he stayed still long enough, I would disregard him.
I didn't intend to.
He must have realized that, because in spite of the strain I was sure it was causing him, the Earth Kingdom soldier took his hands away from his bleeding side, reached for the knife at his belt, and raised it, only to find it plunged into his own heart instead of mine.
On the first sign of movement from him, I'd rushed forward as he'd reached for and raised his knife, knelt before him, wrapped my hand around his, turned his blade, and plunged it into his chest.
When I let go, his hand was still around the hilt of his dagger, and his eyes still looking dead ahead, searching for mine past the skull firebender's helmet I wore. I could have looked away, let the anonymity of my faceplate shield any effort to not have to look death in the eye, but I didn't.
Nothing changed in the boy's expression as he died. He was on death's doorstep as he was, and would have been dead within the hour anyway if I hadn't come along.
But I had, and I'd finished the job.
The soldier had little on him. Save for his knife that he'd died with, he had only his uniform, and a small pack of field rations, containing within a small tin of rice, half-eaten, a half cup of soup base, a few assorted greens, but more interestingly, an apple, fresh, recently supplied.
This wasn't a delay tactic from the same soldiers that'd left behind the trench network we'd claimed those days ago, and it was more than a staggered retreat. They were deployed out here to whittle down our numbers, but from where?
Looking outside of the small alcove, I wouldn't get an answer, the world fundamentally lacking in presence beyond the curtain of rain, but it could wait.
I grabbed the apple, and left, returning to my hill by the time the storm had begun to pass. I would make no effort to hide what I'd done, I determined. The Shanzi was still where I had left it, all 3 of its crew accounted for, and an enemy was dead. That was the job.
I waited for a time longer atop the hill as instructed, watching as the rain faded and gave way to a dormant field of gray clouds that stretched across the sky as far as my eyes could make, their payload spent in contrary to their foreboding presence, all bark and no bite, comparable to a Fire Nation hand cannon that'd already been expended of its blasting jelly and ammunition.
The immediate threat was gone, but to tell myself that all danger had immediately died with that single Earth Kingdom soldier would have been nothing short of complacence, nothing short of practically asking for my men to be killed.
So, lit a fire for myself, small enough to provide some warmth and start drying me off without attracting unwanted attention, I did my job, watching the clouds roll over the hills, a thick fog beginning to descend, all the better as far as I was concerned. It was more cover with which to shroud our presence. Even looking back at Shanzi was becoming a difficulty in it of itself, but I kept my gaze ahead, focused for the slightest disturbance, even as they came from our own position–footsteps.
I turned, and found Boss there, watching as I sat huddled around my fire, wondering just how long he'd been watching, if only for the last few seconds, minutes, or hell, since I'd left to track down the soldier.
One way or another, he knew.
"So, everything settled?" he asked.
I nodded.
"And?"
"Won't be an issue."
Then it was his turn to nod.
Sometimes, the less one asked, the better.
"Come on," he said finally. "Shanzi's nearly up and running again. Hizo and Zek got things worked out quicker than expected."
About damn time, I thought to myself as I extinguished my small fire and picked my poncho off from the ground, following close behind Boss as he descended down the hill lest I lose him in the fog.
Returning, I would find just what Boss had promised, a tended-to Shanzi that had found her tread reattached. It was little more than a patchwork jury-rig, but it would have to do.
Still lined up by the incline from which we'd been ambushed little had been done for the bodies of the fallen, but there was little more that could be done than hope the Fire Nation found their fallen before anyone or anything else did.
And to make sure it doesn't happen again.
"Everything sorted?" Boss asked as we approach, getting a final confirmation from Zek and Hizo that we were set to move as they boarded the Shanzi and set about their final tests.
A quick engine check and a confirmation of proper tread grip later, and it was all but confirmed that Shanzi was ready to make the journey back and put this night behind us.
But rarely were things so simple.
I hadn't even yet fully immersed myself back into my turret when the sky found itself lit once more, only this time, not by the flash of lightning belonging to a passing storm, but instead, something that spelled a far worse reality–the red streak of an emergency flare.
"Flare," I said, noticing, too quiet to be heard the first time, and so said again, louder now, "Flare!"
I was joined then by Hizo poking his head out through the still-open rear maintenance bay of the tank, peering up at the sky, following the red trail that led up into the clouds, disappearing behind them.
Now Zek and Boss followed, peering out through the forward pilots' hatch, late enough to miss it, but not too late to miss the next one, rising into the sky only a minute later–another flare.
And now we were all watching, our eyes on the sky for the minutes that followed when the sky would become dominated by emergency flares, half a dozen more at the very least, the four of us counting them off as they rose into the sky.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
8 tank crews and counted, and theirs only the ones that reported attacks, those unlike us who'd held back, who'd been fortunate enough to survive our first encounter without need of signaling an emergency.
Not like the others, not like those whose final deeds we saw light up the sky, destined to die if they weren't already.
But only if we do nothing.
"Boss?" I heard a voice originate from behind me, belonging to Hizo, aimed at our commander.
Boss was a quick man, not one to delay without reason, to left questions go unanswered, but here, he hesitated, and I knew the question he asked, but so too did I know the answer. It was the only possible answer, the only possible thing that we as soldiers could be expected to do.
Those were our men out there, and if our estimations were correct, there wouldn't be men coming after them, not from our encampment.
So as Boss still had yet to answer and I was next to ask, "Boss; our orders?" I knew already what the answer would be, and so already had my helmet back on by the time it came.
"Strap in," he said. "We're taking a detour. Mission's not over yet."