Zek

"Take this," boss said, handing me the perfectly folded banner of the Southern Raiders, nigh spotless, doubtlessly cleaned by day as well as by night. It was located in his possessions just below his banner from his time as sergeant of Iron Fire. It felt like centuries ago now as I fastened the banner to our mast, the first to take its spot on this vessel.

Sad thing too it had to be of the Southern Raiders. They're reputation was one of infamy in the Fire Nation just as it was in the Earth Kingdom. They were known for their insubordination, never complying with military codes, going off on their own, taking from who they pleased. Hell, it wasn't enough to say that. The Rough Rhinos were just the same if not worse, but the Southern Raiders, they were cruel, their loyalty more in question even that that of the mercenaries who had become topics of plays and children's playthings across Fire Nation contested lands.

Once the banner was up, it was sad to note just how in place it was: The Black Sea ravens against a triangular field of blood red, bent in the shape of a crescent, a skull over the raven's head, its tail split in two. I could picture how the banner would appear now out of a morning southern mist, accompanied by black soot falling from the sky as these sleek gray machines of war came over the horizon, killing any and all in sight. It's no wonder we have so many enemies. These are the kinds of stories that speak loudest. Of our crimes, our cruelty. The stories say nothing of the good we've done. Of the people we've saved from serfdom, giving them food, shelter, water, paying jobs, but then assholes like the Southern Raiders come along, and give the rest of the world a reason to rally against us.

I shook my head, casting the thought aside as I climbed down the ladder back down to the main deck. Jadoh and Luke already had the engine rumbling, having shoveled the last of our coal into the boilers. Gordez was out of commission having been incapacitated by a rather unwelcoming case of seasickness. Hopefully the outpost would have some medicine for us. Assuming they didn't fire at us on sight. We were on our way, having already turned around. We'd get there. It was only a matter of how long it would take now. Of course, it was also a matter of making sure they didn't blow us into a million pieces the second they saw us. There was a particular pressure on me. This was my plan. The crew may not have known, but I did. If this went south, it'd be on me. So this is what it's like for Boss.

I got back to the main deck. Luke and Jadoh were walking out of the main command superstructure by the time I was down, decked out in ill-fitting Fire Nation armor, but it was better than nothing. It's not Southern Raider armor. I assumed Boss already told them the plan while I was busy fastening our standard judging by the fact they had weapons at their side and were making their best effort to appear as professional soldiers.

It was almost humorous how loose-fitting Jadoh's armor was. He was wearing Gordez's set, Gordez himself out of commission. It was clear just how out of place he was. I smiled. We'll have to keep him out of sight, though. Better safe than sorry.

"You two look read to go," I said as I dismounted the ladder, clanging softly to the steel ground as the two adjusted their last bits of clothing, Luke tightening his gloves and Jadoh desperately stuffing his undershirt into his leggings. "As ready as we can be, I guess," said Jadoh. "We going to see if they have any spare uniforms they can lend us?"

"Oh sure. After we take their food, water, and fuel, we'll ask them nicely for some fresh clothes."

"Can't tell if you're being real with me or just being an asshole right now."

"Then I'll keep you guessing," I ended with as I set off into the superstructure to get my own uniform on. I moved up to my own room, on the same floor as Boss's, the room I supposed would be reserved for the First mate. Luke was in the room next to mine. Second mate? Didn't matter.

Jadoh was below us. Smaller room, still private though. Before that floor was the main barracks. It was a bit much to act as though we lived in the lap of luxury. We'd been sleeping on the metal floor until we stole those beds from the abandoned Fire Nation outpost nearly, what? A month back? A month already? How long have we been out here? No matter. The less time the better. We're turning our luck around today. I climbed up the ladder of the superstructure, too cramped to house an actual stairway. Food and other supplies were taken up and down by means of pulley. It was rustic, but it worked.

I got to my room, disrobing my civilian attire, trading it out for the light grays of the military underclothes, clamping on the black and metal armor over it, securing the leg plating, arm plating, boots, gloves, and lastly, the final touch, the open helmet. Part ways, I envied Luke. Being a firebender, his uniformed helmet bore with it the face mask to protect against the flames. I had no doubt it limited visibility but offered greater protection. It was a tradeoff; one I'd sometimes be willing to make. Today, however, was not a day for that. I needed to keep my eyes open. We'd be in the center of a hostile Fire Nation outpost. "Hostile Fire Nation Outpost". It still felt wrong saying that. That was my country I was referring to as an enemy belligerent. No matter how many times I told myself this was the way things were, it would never feel quite right.

I fastened a short sword to my belt, closing the door to my room behind me, sealing it out of paranoia, and ascending up to the bridge where I once again was faced with Boss as he awaited my status report, which I promptly gave, saying, "We're in motion. Due south. Crew is combat ready, and the flag is secured. Orders?"

"I'd put us about another hour away from the outpost. We're making surprisingly good speed."

"Makes sense, I guess. It's a small ship, we have efficient energy use, we're underweight, and we have the current on our side."

"That's true. Go ahead. Get some rest. In 30 minutes, get the ship battle-ready, worse comes to worst. And look professional. We may be in the wrong ship, wearing the wrong armor, but the least we can do is sell that we're on the same side."

"If we want to look like the Southern Raiders, isn't the last thing we should be doing, looking professional?"

Boss chuckled at that, shaking his head, saying, "Get some rest. Report back here in 30."

I smiled, nodding. "Yes sir."

I turned to leave, readying to head down the ladder once more when something caught my eye through the window of the door leading to the rear balcony. A small blot in the distance, behind us. Was it, a ship?

I backed away from the window, immediately bolting for where the telescope was lying atop the map table, ignoring Boss's protests as I ran back, tackling open the door, stopping myself before I went over the railing, and extended the scope to get a view.

I closed my left eye as I peered through the magnified one, scanning the horizon, left and right, almost believing I was imagining things until I saw it, gliding vehemently across the surface of the burning sea, a beast of wood and metal—an ironclad Earth Kingdom destroyer. On our tail, approaching quickly.

I couldn't hear Boss yelling at me over the rate of my own heart until he grabbed the scope out of my hand, placing it to his eye, verifying the circumstances himself as I stood agape, helpless, motionless, my heart in my mouth.

His shoulders sunk, and he closed the scope. I don't know if I was expecting a reaction similar to mine own, but when he looked at me, his expression changed. It wasn't one of the blatant fear and terror I was experiencing, but one of flaming resolve. "3 miles out," he said. "Gaining speed quickly"

"Can we make it the-the outpost before they catch up to us?" I was begging for the affirmative. There was no hope of us dealing with this ourselves. We were unarmed, under equipped, easy takings. I received the opposite of what I was begging for, however.

"Not likely. Not at their speed. We're in for a fight."

"We can't beat them, though. We have nothing to fight back with. They'll blow us out of the water."

"No," he said, sliding the coiled scope into his belt loop, moving over to the PA system, doubtlessly preparing to update his crew as to the situation. "They'll want to board us. They see we're lagging behind. Easy pickings. They'll want to take our ship for themselves and anything we have onboard." He now spoke into the PA, the echo of his voice bouncing across the walls as every opening voiced Boss's mechanical words as he spoke without fear, without emotion, but as a leader. "Attention crew. We have an Earth Kingdom vessel on our tail. Report to the bridge for orders."

I could still feel my heart beating, almost begging to break out of my chest with every pump, the blood coursing through my veins at speeds I couldn't begin to measure. "What are you thinking, Boss?" I asked, paying no mind to the break in my voice that made itself known midway through my question.

"I'm thinking we fight."

"How?"

"Be patient. I'll tell you the plan once Luke and Jadoh are up here."

Soon enough, they were, clearly in the same state of confusion and fear as I was. At least, Jadoh was. Luke was expressionless. In fact, something about him made him look as though he was begging for a good fight. "You said there's an Earth Kingdom ship?" Jadoh asked.

"Yes. Ironclad. Destroyer-class. Gaining quickly."

"Fuck," Jadoh commented. "Do we surrender. I mean. We're mercenaries. We can just work for them."

I shook my head, immediately discounting that option. "No point," I said. "We're not mercenaries. We're southern raiders. Or at least they think we are. "They'd kill the lot of us even if we gave them the key to the backdoor to Ozai's bedchamber."

"Then just take the flag down. Tell them we're not the raiders."

"They already saw our banner," commented Boss.

"Besides," I said. "You think they'd really believe us?"

Jadoh shook his head, looking up to the ceiling, yelling, "Damnit!"

"Calm down," was Luke's input in the conversation.

"Calm down?! We have no weapons. We're dead in the water. They'll blast us into the sea."

"No they won't," corrected Boss. "I was telling Zek. We're more worth intact. They know we're lagging behind. Easy pickings. They're approaching at ramming speed. They'll try to board us, kill us, and take our ship."

"Well that doesn't really help us," said Jadoh, and for once, I agreed. We were just as poorly under armed in terms of conventional weaponry as naval equipment. How were we expecting to repel a full boarding team, especially when they knew we were here? Unless we-

"We still have fuel in the skiff," I blurted out. I looked to Boss and saw the smile on his face. Was this his plan the whole time or did I-did I just give him the plan. No. Didn't matter. I continued. "We can use the skiff, board them, fight on their ship. Distract them long enough for us to get to the outpost."

"No," said Boss. "We can do better than that. This isn't a distraction, or whoever were to go onboard would be killed in a manner of seconds, or, at best, minutes."

"But the ship would get away."

"Not the point. Luke, you're a firebender. You're going with Zek aboard the enemy ship. Jadoh, can you fight?"

"I-uh-no."

"Then you're staying here. You'll guard the bridge."

"Boss. Don't let Luke tag along. It's like you said. Anyone you send along will die for the distraction."

"This won't be a distraction. You'll sabotage their ship. Take them out from within. Destroy their engines, leave them dead in the water, then return to your skiff and get back here."

"But Boss-"

"Understood?"

"Sir. They'll know we're aboard. They'll kill us before they kill you. The most we can get out of this is a distraction."

"If you leave now, yes, they'll see you miles ahead. They're coming in to ram us. You'll eject on the skiff once they do. We can't stop them from colliding with our rear. Once they do, you'll leave on the skiff, move underneath the shadow of their hull, get to their rear, and board without their knowing. Am I understood?"

I saw Luke nod and leave from behind me, already heading down the ladder en route to the patrol skiff bay. "Boss," I objected. "I'm not sure about this."

"About what? Your suicide mission that I'm trying to make less suicidal?"

"Minimal casualties, sir."

"Are you so eager to die?"

"No, but I-"

"Then follow your orders and get to the skiff bay. Open the bay doors when I give the word over the PA. until then, ready the skiff for departure, and only open the door when I give the word."

"Boss," I pleaded one last time.

"They're one mile away. You don't have a lot of time. Go!"

I wasn't eager to die, but when I saw that ship, I knew our luck had run out. I knew that if somebody didn't do something, we'd be floating corpses in a matter of minutes. I was willing to fight so at least some of us would live. Was it to fight so we would live, or was it to die? Am I trying to die? Die fighting my enemies before I die fighting my own countrymen. I didn't know the answer to that.

I shook my head, following Luke down the ladder, running through the halls as I tightened my gloves, secured my sword in its sheathe, clasping my helmet at the neck as I made my way to the skiff bay as quick as my legs and my heart, still not slowing down, would allow me. How does Luke do it? What did he see at Ba Sing Se? What did he do to those people that made him this way?

At the skiff bay, Luke was already checking the skiff's fuel, checking readings, nearly ready to turn it on, waiting merely for me, and the order to come through. He hadn't even heard Boss's orders, but he was waiting for the go-ahead. Was it blind loyalty, did he really trust Boss with his life, or did he simply not care what happened to him?

Luke was 3 years my youth, but the sword fit around high waste far better than it did mine own. I had a habit of asking myself what the difference between a soldier and a killer was. I used to think Luke was the former, but I didn't know anymore. He had his loyalties, hell if I knew what they were, but he didn't kill indiscriminately, but he enjoyed it all the same. He gained pleasure from killing his foe. What did that make him? A soldier or a killer, or somewhere in between the two sitting on a paper-thin line, simply going whichever way the wind blew?

But the look he gave me when I entered the room, grim determination mixed with an underlying thrill to fight, expressionless eyes that were soon concealed by shadow when he slipped his helmet over his face, they all told me one thing. He was better suit for this than I was.

I waited by the intercom output, waiting for Boss's voice to ring through. Luke was simply standing in the back of the skiff, flexing the muscles in his hands, small flames protruding out every now and then. Some nights, I'd catch him as practiced his daily forms, changing them each and every time, not following any master or any pre-written scroll, but following his own motions. He was getting stronger and stronger as the days went by. Anytime he entered a room, I could feel it both grow hotter and colder. I had no idea what he was. I was thankful for one thing, though. He was on my side.

"Open the doors," came the voice of my leader, my closest friend left living, made mechanical as it passed from tube to tube to where I stood. I did as he ordered, and the doors screeched open. And not 50 yards away was the hull of the Earth Kingdom vessel, oak held together by iron supports, lined in less-flammable green-wood coating, replaced every few months to keep the material still wet from its sap, less flammable than the vessel's primary material. At least from the outside. The inside will be a different story. I saw the vessel come nearer, growing a thousand times its size as when I'd first seen it on the horizon. I hope.

I remembered my orders. Eject the moment we collide. I stepped into the skiff, hands on the engine's ignition as Luke readied the mechanism that would lower us by way of iron chains into the soon to be Red Sea below.

The vessel's ram approached, the individual nails becoming visible as it came so close you could kiss the hull, until, finally, it hit. Metal against metal, iron against steel, the Earth Kingdom ship's speed proved its greatest ally as it propelled itself directly into our ship's rear, warping the steel of our stern as it bounced off, coming in again to hit us a second time. But now, as it bounced back, was our chance. "Now!"

Luke released the chains, we dropped, into the water we went, winter-cold water splashing our backs as I started the engine, and we came to life. I turned us around, our front now facing the quickly approaching Earth Kingdom ironclad once more for another strike, heading left, to the monstrosity's starboard side, our steel hull scratching against that of the earthen vessel, tearing along its wooden hull as the two great vessels collided once more. I turned back and could observe the second collision, our stern boarding ramp being reduced to slag as it was slammed into, a pathetic barrier blocking the enemy's approach as it was just as pathetically cast aside, giving way for the second strike, warping the stern of our ship once more. It wouldn't be able to take too much more. We had to make this quick, and we had to do this right.

We reached the stern of the Earth Kingdom vessel where Luke fired a grabbing hook into the ship's hull. It lacked the force of modern cruiser-fitted anti-armor grappling hooks capable of penetrating a steel ship through both hulls, ignoring all in its path. However, it did the job. It passed through the outer layering of green-wood, and quickly simply through the oak, securing us tightly to the enemy vessel as it dragged us along with it. I cut the engines, and waited, for just a minute, enough to gauge our welcoming party.

There was none.

They had no idea we were here.

I smiled and turned to Luke. It was time. We sheathed any weapons still unsheathed and turned towards the Earth Kingdom vessel, closing the minimal distance as we used the iron supports as easy handholds, suing them to make our way up to the nearest opening: a small window in the stern captain's deck. I unsheathed my sword, using the hilt to smash through the window, crawling in with ease, both of us ignoring the shards of broken glass as our armor protected us against the minimal obstacle.

We were in the ship, and just as easily as we had boarded, met our first obstacle—a woman, an age I'd place around her late teens or early 20s, half-dressed or half-undressed depending on how you chose to approach it, she was, was it cute, was it beautiful? I think it was mostly her eyes, half-terrified, half-startled as she jumped from under the sheets of the bed. I think she had been expecting someone else. I raised an arm, as though to tell her she wasn't in danger. Sadly, perhaps raising my unsheathed sword wasn't the best show of good faith. She opened her mouth to scream, and the hilt of Luke's blade was driven into her face before her simply croak could come a yell.

She fell to the ground, out for the count, as a short-lived mist of blood followed her. She would live, but, no, it didn't feel right. She was a woman. No, fuck, she was a girl. And Luke just knocked her out! "Luke!" I wanted to yell but forced into a whisper. "What the hell?!"

"She was going to scream." He wasn't trying to defend himself. He didn't say it as though I was accusing him of some grievous misdeed, nor did he approach it nonchalantly. As he had apparently prided himself on doing these last few months, he stood somewhere in the middle. He looked at me, and simply said it as though it were the answer to some test question back in whatever academy spit him out.

Luke didn't reside to hear any more of my accusations. He carried along, moving towards the door, standing on the tips of his toes to peer through the hole in the door aimed outside. On the tips of his toes. He's a kid and he's better suited for this than I'll ever be. I looked back to the woman, where she lay on the ground, bloodied nose and all, likely broken. Who was she expecting? Who had her so scared? What am I talking about? It's us. The ones who broke through her window, swords in hand, one of them wearing a skull mask. What the hell did I mean, 'who was she scared of?' It's us. Something about it, though. Something didn't sit right.

"There moving to the bow," said Luke, still peering through the peephole. "15 on deck. 4 on artillery."

"What-" I coughed, trying to stop paying mind to the unimportant. "What kind of artillery?"

"Doesn't matter. It's only for if the boarding party has a hard time taking the ship. I don't think it'll be an issue. We'll have this shit underwater before they get the chance. They're trying to force our ship to stop. We'll be done before then."

"See any way to get below deck?" I asked, moving closer to the door, trying to see through the peep hole that was engulfed by Luke's helmet. "Yes. Directly ahead. Nobody's facing our direction. Let's run for it."

"Alright. I-I'm behind you."

Luke caught me looking back at the incapacitated girl. "Don't worry about her."

"She'll go down with the ship."

"Or all of us will. Make your choice."

I'll come back for you. "Okay. Let's go."

Luke opened the door, the sounds of the sea and the third collision coming to life all at once, the waves beating against our hull, the scrape of metal-on metal, a wrenching shrill like sirens in the seas, the perfect noise under which to run across nearly a third of the deck, running below it into the dark bowels of the vessel.

When it came to the Fire Nation, vessels were mass-produced, non-varying schematics from ship to ship, designs shared from factory to factory, worker to worker. You could've been on a destroyer managed by some captain in the middle of the Southern Arctic or on a cruiser patrolling the Serpent's Lake. Here though, we had no way of knowing which direction was which. For starters, I'd never been on an Earth Kingdom vessel before, and I highly doubted Luke had at some point in his frighteningly short career. In addition to that, even if we had, as opposed to the Fire Nation, there was no such a thing as unified designs. Every ship varied from one another. What was the boiler room here could have been a cafeteria on another? That said, we relied on guesswork.

Luke chose his direction, stern ward, and made his way. We could hear the rumblings of the engine below us. Coal-operated, similar to Fire Nation vessels, but far less efficient. Firebenders could control the flames, but earthbenders the coal. There was an even division of labor in every sense save the sheer technicality. Fire Nation steam engines were more efficient, requiring less coal, taking less weight on a vessel. For an ironclad vessel such as this, operating on appropriated Fire Nation technology in the first place, it was safe to assume where the boilers would be, right below us.

"We need to find a stairw-"

Luke didn't.

He shot a spurt of flame at a support beam in the wall. The rope securing it burnt, followed by the wood that splintered on contact from the small-scale explosion, bursting into tiny wooden shards in nearly every direction, collapsing in on itself as the floor fell beneath it, a testimony to the faults of the Earth Kingdom Navy.

And Lou and behold, there beneath us was the engine room of the vessel, a pair of shocked engine operators peering up at us, two Fire Nation soldiers aboard their ship, their home. Even I was in shock as to what Luke had in mind, but that kid did not hesitate. He dropped down into the room, using the broken flooring to spring off with a jump, getting to the boiler room all the quicker, sending a burst of flame into the first engine operator, sending him recoiling backward into the hatches of his boiler, the flames engulfing him.

No shortage of flame at his disposal, Luke sent the flames from the boiler into the second operator, a constant stream of flame engulfing him as Luke reveled in the heat and taste of war.

I was still watching in a horrified awe as the rest of the boiler room sprang to life, no aware of their crippled and weathering superstructure, not to mention the pair of infiltrators. The nearest pair of operators approached, ready to apprehend the young firebender. I wouldn't wait. Still on the floor above, I unsheathed my blade, dropping down on top of the first operator, shoving my blade his companion, through the side, using my leg to kick him away, allowing me to pull my bladed out. The man beneath me, still struggling to rise, ended his writhing as Luke plunged his blade with his right arm into the downed man's head, firing a bolt of flame over my shoulder to the oncoming pair.

They had already chosen their means of offense, bending the coal, their fuel into a barrier in front of them, blocking the onslaught of red-hot energy. I bolted left, Luke bolted right, both of us aware of the counterattack that would ensue, narrowly dodging the shards of sharpened coal that proceeded in our direction, bouncing off of the boilers, more of them hitting their shortly-deceased friends, still dead on the ground, than us who were still safer in cover.

Luke nodded to me. I knew. We were in the very room we were sent to sabotage, to destroy. We didn't have to wait this fight out. We needed to end this here and now. He needed a distraction to get a shot. A good shot at a boiler, enough to increase the steam pressure too much to the point it would burst, and our job would be done. I nodded back. The corpse of the dead engine operator on the ground. I pulled it by the arm towards me, raising him just enough to provide me cover as I made my way forward, using him as cover. I heaved him up, raising him enough to cover me should I remain crouched. I left cover, and moved forward, the hostile projectiles making their way into their companion's carcass.

Luke took the opportunity, the distraction, firing over me towards the nearest boiler. The shot went in, the fuel burnt, the pressure built, and the pipe burst, the following explosion sending shards of shrapnel in all directions, impaling the nearest man, tearing him apart at the shoulder, a fragment of red hot iron cutting through him, cutting him in two right in front of me. By the time I was off of the ground, the side of the ship was already exposed to the world beyond, the Black Sea now turning red already finding its way inside. Luke was on the ground too, somewhere behind me, by some miracle unscathed, just as I. I was still holding on to the corpse of the man I had, just a few seconds ago, used as a human shield, his face directly facing mine. From his back, I could see the sharp of metal protruding from his spine, his lifeblood seeping onto my fingers. I pushed him off of me, no longer believing myself to need the cover.

"Zek," Luke called. "You good."

I patted myself down, actually considering whether or not I was still alive even as the ocean pooled around my legs. Was I? "Yeah!" I called. "I think?"

I heard a shuffle behind him, where the operators had been not a few moments ago, as one rose from the pile of wood and metal shrapnel, making one last effort to deter the boarding party. He failed. Luke took his hand off at the wrist, shoving him face first into the water, holding him there, waiting, the half-dead armless man struggling with whatever he had left in to avoid the cool embrace of death. He failed as he was held there, facing upwards, looking beyond a thin film of water separating him from life and oxygen, trapped beneath the blood-red sea.

I just watched. What more could I do. Part of me wanted to watch. Is this what he felt? What he felt when he killed? I killed before, but, not like this. He enjoyed it.

The man stopped struggling, and the bubbles stopped rising. The sea was still making its way through the sea. The sea itself was rising. Or, more accurately put, we were the ones sinking.

"Luke" I called. He let go of the man's neck, and the body slipped away from him, pushed by the incoming waves. "Let's go."

He nodded, refusing to talk. He rose from where he was crouched above the carnage he had caused. We had caused.

We pushed our way through the rising sea, past accumulating debris and destruction. The explosions were still rocking the ship around us. Did we really have this much of an impact? We had done some damage, yes, but this much?

We found our way up out of the boiler room soon enough, moving past the crew quarters who were probably now either boarding our own vessel, or setting to repairing the damage we had brought upon them. Explosions continued to rock the decks as we moved upwards and upwards, the light of day shining through the entrance into the outside world, then it wasn't, then again, once more, it was. What?

We were above decks. Nobody aboard even noticed us. They were busy. The artillery was firing. What? Why would they be firing at us? The boarding party should be having no trouble. It's 2 kids, one of them injured, and one half-starved captain.

I looked towards our own ship, to just assess our status with my own eyes, but where there had been one Fire Nation destroyer before, there was that, its stern nigh completely demolished, and a Fire Nation battlecruiser, in all its might, artillery aimed directly towards us, ready to sink this ship to the bottom of the sea, in fact, already in the act of doing so. The other explosions. But where did they come from? We're they from the outpost, here to save the lives of those they thought to be their very own comrades in arms.

"Let's go!" Luke called, heading back towards the rear of our ship to board our skiff and get out of here. But I had something more to do. A promise to keep. The girl in the captain's hold. Luke knew what I was thinking. "Don't," he said.

"She doesn't belong here!"

"Neither do we! Let's go!"

Back onboard our own ship, it was his determination and resolved that had terrified me. That had me in awe. Now, it was the other way around. He wouldn't get his way. Not this time. He could see that, but it didn't matter. I wasn't leaving anybody to die here. Not anybody that didn't deserve it.

"Fine. Go!"

I ran to the quarters of the captain, and found her, lying on the ground, and the man himself who I was now positive was the subject of her terror upon waking up. Stocky build, broad shoulders, and a face that put only one word in my head when he turned to face me from where he was securing the last of his loot before abandoning ship—monster.

He turned, knife in hand, thinking himself at an advantage. He staggered in his first steps towards me, drunk. Of course.

I unsheathed my blade. It wasn't even a fight. He had already been celebrating his victory over the under-equipped, derelict, Fire Nation destroyer. The last thing he had been expecting was a fight. Much less to get his own hands dirty. My blade slid into his stomach as he raised his knife to bring it down as though it were a great sword. It fell with a pathetic clang to the ground.

He tumbled over backwards, a beast of a man, the blood gathering in his mouth, bubbling as it seeped over his lips onto the ground around him, already dead in a pool of his own blood, taking his last breath as I, putting effort into every one of my movements, picking up his whore around the waist, raising her above the ground, scooping her up as though she were a new-born babe, taking whatever care I could. The ship was low enough in the sea that it was a simple walk outside of the quarters, onto the main deck, and a simple step onto our skiff, still floating, yet still tethered to the sinking ship. I Placed the small girl carefully onto the deck of the skiff as Luke loaded whatever loot he could muster from the Captain's quarters, soon enough cutting the chain keeping us tethered to the sinking ship.

A few Earth Kingdom sailors and soldiers tried stopping us, but slowed by the water accumulating around their legs, they were fish in barrels, running to the slaughter, all approaches dead before they could even come within 5 yards' distance of us.

Soon enough, however, we were away, abandoning the victims of the catastrophe that was the failed boarding party behind us, as they sunk beneath the black-red waves.