Luke

I told Jadoh the plan. He understood it easily enough. He'd been practicing his swordsmanship with a few of the other Seppies when I found him. I couldn't lie, but there was something unnerving about how easily he seemed to get along with the Separatists. I couldn't blame he. He wasn't Fire Nation like the rest of us, and at that, he was far more sociable. Hadn't really seen war in his life as of yet. There was something about combat that changed you. A degree of communication that was simply by understanding one another. Things you didn't have to say. Jadoh didn't have that. He had to speak to be heard, whereas, when it came to some of us that had spent years with your life hanging in the balance, there was a degree of disconnect when it came to other people, as cold and heartless as that sounded. Even with Jadoh, as close as we may have gotten in the last few months, it never really felt the same with him. I felt bad for thinking that way, but it was true. He was one of us, that much was true, but neither he, nor Ka'lira, nor probably even Zadok or Kosah, had seen the things the rest of us had.

But even if he hadn't had that same upbringing as the rest of us, I had to commend him for the fighter he'd become in these last few months, how much he'd changed since Jianghe. Within 10 minutes of telling him to get ready, he'd followed me down the lift to our tents, had gotten his uniform on, equipped his armor, the red and black colors attracting some unwanted attention, but dismissed as soon as that, and was weaponized, armored, and ready to go. I considered putting on the helmet but decided against it. Too cumbersome. We were travelling light, and if possible, discretely. I was wearing only my chest piece, knee pads, shoulder pads, and vambraces beneath a hooded olive drab poncho. Jadoh was wearing much the same.

The Seppies, naturally, wore no uniforms. It was amusing how much a formalized uniform changed one's status as a belligerent in modern warfare. Theoretically, by Fire Nation law at least, non-uniformed combatants weren't deemed official combatants, and thus, not qualifying for receiving prisoner-of-war status, and a convenient law it was for them considering that, when the war had begun, only the Fire Nation had really possessed formalized uniforms. The only ones to possess uniform in the Earth Kingdom were Ba Sing Se's own personal security, and the Dai Li, so the Fire Nation could go as they pleased, slaughtering opponents by the thousands, stating that they had done nothing wrong.

I put the thought aside. Sometimes it was hard to acknowledge the faults of those you'd killed in the name of. You wanted to think that, if you were going so far as to kill others in the name of a cause, of a state, that you were at least doing it for a good reason, and I believed I was. Me, Zek, Boss, all of us, we were all still patriots, but we had left our country. We left because we believed that we were going down the wrong direction. It was one thing to be loyal to an idea. Another to be loyal to an action. So what the hell am I doing now? What idea am I supporting now? Attacking from the shadows, killing the unwary, terrorizing people as a way of "liberating" them? I shook it out of my head. You couldn't risk letting your mind go too deep into these kinds of things, to ask why you were doing what you were doing. That's when you were at the greatest risk of getting yourself killed.

I put the train of thought aside, not really wanting to know when it might return again in full force. The longer I could put it aside the better, most likely.

I'd been hoping that Kiu's men would be ready for us soon. The sooner I could get out there, have my mind focused on the moment, the better, but it ended up taking the Seppies another 45 minutes to be ready for us. They were 2 I hadn't had the pleasure of meeting yet. Thus far, I'd been disappointed by Kiu's stock. Few of them exhibited the true makings of warriors, and the two that followed now, they were no different. One of them was a tall lanky figure. I'd put him at 5'10, pretty tall for what seemed to be his age judging by his face. I'd put him at no older than 15, maybe even 14. The other was older, though shorter, but not by too much, perhaps only 2 inches. He was scruffier, sporting a thick jet-black beard and 'stache. I'd say he might even be 18. I was surprised Kiu's recruiting would go that old judging by the rest of the stock here. Despite them both being older than us, however, the manner in which they held themselves was disappointing. They wore only their ponchos and a poorly crafted leather chest piece that I doubted would stop anything more than stone dagger. They both looked as though they'd only just woken up, neither very much attentive, looking as though they'd rather return to whatever slumber they'd likely just been awoken from. But that was the mentality around here, wasn't it? This was a chore, with the occasional pleasure of making a few Fire Nation heads roll.

And they had the nerve of actually asking when they approached us, "So you're it?"

"Not much to look at yourselves, are you?" I mumbled, rewarding me with a jab from Jadoh who seemed to be doing a better job of following Boss's instructions than I was.

"What was that, you little shit?" asked the black-haired scruffy one whose name I no longer cared to learned.

"Just that we have a job to do and the sooner we get it done, the better?"

"What's the rush, kid? We know these woods like the back of our hands. We can leave in 30 minutes and still get to the 3rd mark 10 minutes before they do."

"Why not any of the others?" Jadoh asked.

"Do you want to be lugging around that Fire Nation armor any longer than you have to?" asked the skinny boy.

Jadoh had no response to that, and frankly, neither did I. I'd already seen enough to know the kind of people I was dealing with, and I'd be amazed if we got out of this intact. More amazed if we even managed to get the job done. "So what do we do for the next 30 minutes then?" I asked.

The scruffy one shrugged, pulling out a deck of playing cards, and asked, "You know how to play?"

I spent 20 of the next 30 minutes getting my ass handed to me. It didn't take long for me to recognize the game. I'd played more than my fair share back in Citadel. Idea was to get the best hand you could by combining the 2 cards you were dealt to the shared cards in the center, finding the best combination you could so as to beat those of the others around you. I could tell Jadoh also had his share of knowledge in the game, as well as the others who also seemed to have had some practice as well, but from the way they played, I could tell that they've never bet the day's meal on a game of cards before. I had. And so I let them have their fun with me, pretending to be learning as I went. I was tired of these shits, and I wanted something out of them, so when I saw that they were handing me the victory, seeing whether my losses were intended or otherwise, I took it, casting the suspicion away, prompting them to ask, "How about we make this more interesting?" Jadoh turned down the offer, leaving only me, but I didn't turn it down, and I knew what their eyes had turned to, the dagger on my belt, the one given to me what felt like a lifetime ago by Danev, and there was no way in hell I was turning it down.

Of course, however, you don't just start by going all in. We started small, a few coppers here, the first silver piece raising our eyes, but not so much that it made even Jadoh gulp when scruffy, whose name I'd learned to be Lei'fo over the game, put down 5 golden pieces. And when I had nothing to match, he suggested I put down my dagger. Of course. I scanned my hand. A 10 and a 2. Absolute crap. I only had a pair of 10s going my way as it was, so far. Nothing that would get me too far, and 2 of the shared cards had already been dealt. It wasn't looking good for me, and Jadoh, behind me, could see that just as easily. Lanky, his name Pho, had already been dealt out by Lei'fo's aggressive strategy that seemed to exceed the bounds of affiliation. The 2 shared cards were a 10 and a 9 thus far. But when I looked at Lei'fo, his confidence seems to derive solely from the idea that I was behind him. It was a straight in the making, nothing royal, but a solid straight could end this. I'd slowly been allowing my face to make slight twitches throughout the game, hoping he'd notice, hoping that he would believe me to an expressive sort, and right now, that was just what I needed. His confidence was likely from a current high that he had. A Jack, maybe even a Queen. Naturally, he was begging for a straight. He possibly already had an 8 or his hand, or possible a Queen or Jack, and was hoping for either an 8, Jack, or Queen. One of these many possibilities. I wasn't going to out-hand him, but I could bluff him out. I considered my options, all depending on what was dealt next. Naturally, if nothing relating to the straight was dealt, I only had my pair of 10s, but it was also possible he had a pair to beat mine, but that was unlikely. If anything that didn't contribute to the straight was drawn, his confidence would be shattered, and my 10 pair would come through for me. If an 8 was drawn, I could bullshit having a Jack and Queen, which could play to the advantage that, this whole round, I'd been eyeing the shared deck as though just praying for one single card to finish it all off. If a Jack was drawn, I'd have even more options, and it could be believable that my luck could go either way. But a Queen, no, at the end of the day, it was all about how well I could play it off. But the higher, the better, and I could bullshit my way out of this. I'd lied before, made a habit of it in Citadel. It was all about the one slip, the one subtle show of relief you let slide.

"Make it 20 gold pieces. The dagger's worth far more than 10." I bit my lip, hoping the revelation of my tensed-up nerves would play to my advantage. It did, he agreed.

"20."

The betting ended. I just needed an 8, Jack, or Queen, and I could roll with this. Anything else, I thought as I unsheathed the blade, placing it on the table, and it was over for me, and so when the Jack was put down, the subtle breath I let escape out of relief did not go unnoticed. Good. Lei'fo noticed, he paused, it was his turn to bet. "Stay."

I looked down, as though scanning my pockets for any loose change I could bet. I didn't make a show of it, just something that revealed enough that an experienced player would notice, and I decided against it, recalling some imaginary stash of cash I had somewhere, someway, somehow, and said, "30 gold pieces."

"You're bluffing."

I said nothing aside from, "I don't have it on me. I have it hidden somewhere, but you'll have to take my word on it."

I saw the look in his eyes, the wonderment. Am I serious? I attempted to keep a straight face, letting a lip twitch to a smile for a split second or two, biting my lip as though stifling a laugh. It was enough. He folded. The cards went face down, and I feigned a sigh of disappointment as though I'd lost a good chance to get away with even more than I'd already one. I didn't reveal my hand, merely adding it to the deck. Better to let him sit in his loss and leave him in the dark. I grabbed the knife, pursed the gold, and stood.

"What did you have?" he asked.

I didn't answer.

"Damn it, kid! What did you have?"

"Doesn't matter anymore. Good game. I shouldn't have tried to raise so high at the end."

"What the fuck did you have, asshole?!"

I turned to Pho, "Should we get going?"

He nodded, and so we grabbed our gear, and left, a dumbfounded, penniless, and brooding Lei'fo stumbling behind us, all the while I hid a knowing grin that I'd bluffed my way out of a 2.

Boss

I managed to catch a glimpse of Jadoh, Luke, and the two mysterious Separatists that Boss had chosen leaving into the woods, albeit later than had been expected. I had just finishing signing some "release papers" for the supplies that Gordez and I would be delivering over to the Patriot's skeleton crew so as to ensure they didn't keel over.

It wasn't much that they had coming their way. A good chunk of it was likely the loot that Zek and Ka'lira had found, what was it? Just yesterday? We really were living on scraps, weren't we? Hopefully, the men we were just sending out could do something to change that. I wanted to have faith in them, to believe that things would go on by calmly enough. Frankly, I wasn't sure which I was worried about more, the threat of Luke and Jadoh killing people who didn't deserve it such as Kai had done, or perhaps causing more trouble with the Separatists than we needed.

I could trust Jadoh well enough to carry on soundly enough, likely not cause more trouble than he needed to, but Luke, needless to say, I remembered what he'd told me before, of what would happen if they tried to force him to do something he didn't want to, to take a life that didn't deserve taking. Here was hoping it didn't come down to it, but there was always that risk. I suppose it was that same risk that pushed me now to grab Gordez and load what supplies we could onto the Patriot. If worse came to worse, and we had to make a speedy getaway, the more supplies we could bring with us, the better.

We couldn't take Shanzi. The "motor pool mechanics" said we couldn't go on wasting gas the way we were. A part of me still couldn't believe how seriously the SNS took themselves, actually going so far as to assign themselves different specialist professions, having the audacity to enforce "release papers." It was almost laughable if they weren't dead serious about it, but they believed themselves soldiers. They assigned themselves an importance they were undeserving of. And it was dangerous. Not just to them, but those around them. When you viewed yourself as legitimate, as deserving of more, as a real force to be reckoned with, the actions you made would fall along these same lines, and the shadows of this mentality could already be seen, and paired with the marks it left, such as the dead man they left behind yesterday, needless to say, it concerned me.

While we couldn't take the vehicle, I could still find Gordez not far from the vehicle, a small home away from home as far as he was concerned, glued to the steel beast, going as far back Ba Sing Se, a memory that wouldn't be forgotten soon.

"Wanna head out?" I asked. I took me asking a second time to snap him out of the haze he'd been in only a few seconds ago, eyes fixated on the treaded monster.

"Y-yeah," he stuttered. "Yeah, I guess. Look at 'em. Children. Like they have any idea how that thing works." He was watching the Seppie "mechanics" dig into Shanzi, opening her up, peering into her guts, trying to make sense of it all like a University intern shadowing surgeons cutting into the body of a living, breathing man, not understanding a thing about what they were seeing.

"Don't worry about 'em," I said, trying to ease his mind. "They'll open her up, poke her insides, and when they realize they have no clue what they're doing, they'll close her right up again."

"They better, or it's them I'm going to be opening up."

I snickered at that, happy to see Gordez open up enough to at least crack some jokes, something he still only really seemed comfortable enough to do around me. I wasn't sure if I should've been flattered at that thought, or worried about him, but at that moment, it was just nice to see him be himself, but for a moment. "They've about loaded up the supplies," I commented, changing the subject. "You wanna get going?"

"Yeah, sure. Could use a chance to get my mind off of things."

I grimaced at the thought, having intended on using the chance to get some conversation in with him. Was this his way of saying he didn't want to talk about anything, or that, around me, the stress was gone? Damnit snap out of it. "Yeah," I merely said. "Same here."

We got to where the separatists had loaded up about a week's worth of supplies for the skeleton crew. All things considered, the supplies didn't seem too badly put together, but actually quite organized and well stocked. Perhaps I was too harsh on their organizational aptitude.

We set out, supplies in tow, an uncomfortable silence between the two of us as we made for a b-line straight through the separatist encampment, not saying anything as we passed through their masses, were allowed through by their sentries, and passed along by their outskirt scouts.

We waited a few more minutes thought, before really allowing ourselves to feel safe to talk about the things that actually held some significance, but even when the camp was far behind us, a silence between us was maintained, but the silence wasn't enough to dissuade either of us from trying to find each other's hands with our own. They eventually found each other, forming a loose grip, and just stayed there for a while, my left hand in his, the right pulling the wagon of supplies behind us.

I don't know how long it had been since I actually felt his hand, like this I mean. There'd been times, small sneaking touches, a few brushes here or there, but nothing that ever lasted. Even last time, when I'd managed to talk to him while Zek and Ka'lira were out, it had just been chatting. It had been so long since we've actually acknowledged each other as more than friends that, I think, both of us still wondered if there was something between us.

The note we'd left off on last time had been ambiguous enough to maintain the hope of there being something to salvage, and that hope was further reinforced as I could finally feel him like this again.

Despite the relative peace, the tension was still in the air. I knew he was angry at me, that much was clear, and in part, I was angry at him, though it was getting harder and harder to remember why.

How do I start something like this? By apologizing? Apologizing for what though? Does it matter? It's just better to get it out there.

"I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry about?"

Fuck. Was that a sincere question, or a challenge? Fuck!

"For being a dick." Good. Vague, but remorseful. Perfect.

"That's pretty vague."

Fuck! Think, man, think!

"What I mean is…" I froze.

"Please don't bullshit me, Sho-" I shot into action at hearing the beginning of my name.

"Don't call me that."

"I'm not calling you 'Boss.' Not when it's just us."

"We talked about this. There are some things we just can't talk about. The less we think about it, the better. And what the hell do you mean by 'us'? I think you've made your opinion on that pretty damn clear these last few months," I said, letting go of my grip on his hand.

"Please don't start on this."

"Why not? Because you know I'm right? Because you know that I've spent the entire time since I've met you trying to keep us together, trying to fix the things that you always seemed hell bent on destroying?"

"You tried to fix things?!"

"I've always been the one trying to fix this mess. I've been the one working for this. It was me who suggested we leave the Fire Nation because we knew what'd happen if they found out about us. It was me who got us away."

"And look where the fuck we are now. Back in the middle of an army that would kill us if they learned what we were."

"Do not pin this shit on me! You think I fucking want to be here? I wanted us to get the chance to not have to hide this shit, but when we did have a chance, in the months before, it was you who pushed back, and I respected that. I gave you your space, but you know that I wanted to get back together, so don't you fucking paint me as the one who's trying to sabotage us! You know, you really do have a habit for piss poor timing, you know that?"

He was silent for a while, but I didn't regret what I'd said. The frustration I'd felt in these last months, after everything I'd done to try to get us away from the Fire Nation both so we could do some good, but also so we could finally be together, only to have him push me away, it was enough to get me pissed, and rightly so, I wanted to think.

"I know," was all he could say, only followed by, "I'm sorry."

I'm not sure if I was really expecting an apology, considering I had no idea how to respond to it. I wanted to say, "it's alright" but I knew it wasn't, and so did he. Well enough that he'd call me out on lying, covering for him.

"I know," is all that came to mind, so "I know" was all that was said.

There was a silence that held between us then, only breaking when I asked, "Why?" When it was clear he didn't understand what I was asking, I asked again, "Why did you push me away?"

He was silent for a while, considering his answer, until saying, "I was confused. About what I wanted."

"What do you mean?"

"I wasn't sure if it was real. How I felt about you. I knew you were my friend, but, at Ba Sing Se, the way I felt about you there, I wasn't sure once it was over if it was because I really saw you that way, or if it was just the fear of death around the corner that made me seek comfort in whoever took me in."

I know he had said nothing to hurt me, but what he said was a blow nonetheless, to hear him questioning something that, not long ago, we'd both believed to be real, to be a legitimate sense of compassion, love between us, but a part of me also understood, and took a moment to consider it as well, thinking about all that had been there between us.

We were both ex-Navy. There was a connection before anything even happened, a shared experience, a need to escape, whether it was the sadism of the Southern Raiders for me, or for Gordez, a desire to actually make himself useful in a field where not many shared his technical prowess unlike aboard a Fire Navy battlecruiser. For both of us, we desired something more, to do something good, something real.

When we first got to Ba Sing Se, he had been an artillery gunner and technician. I was just an infantryman, and somehow, we'd still, against the odds, met once before we were both put in Armored. I had been sent to deliver targeting parameters to his artillery unit, and while I had delivered the instructions to his commander, I couldn't help but notice the way he looked at me, and I was partly sure he saw the way I looked at him. It wasn't love at first sight. Nothing along those lines, but I knew we were the same then. That we had the same…tastes.

In the Fire Nation, such behavior was equated to degeneracy, punishable by institutionalization or, if you were lucky, simple imprisonment until one "changed their ways." You kept that sort of thing quiet. In the Fire Nation, treatment of homosexuals was lax, all things considered. In the Earth Kingdom, it was punishable by hanging, burning at the stake, and other insane forms of public execution. The colonies, while presented with the opportunity to encapsulate the worst of both cultures, managed to be more lax in that regard, not necessarily caring, going out of their way to find those who didn't conform to societal norms, but in cases of open "degeneracy", punishment was swift, and decisive.

So when I saw the look that Gordez had given me all those years ago, I wanted to hope, to believe, that I wasn't alone in a world that had told me that I was the enemy. Around 9 months after that first encounter, The Dragon of the West had decided on expanding the Armored Battalion, and by mere happenstance, both Gordez and I had been assigned to the same squad.

The silence in those opening months felt unbearable, both of us believing, but never knowing, if we were the same. It wasn't long until, on account of our crewmates falling around us like flies, we were assigned to the same tank, him as my gunner, and myself as the driver. I couldn't remember who had been the first of us to risk everything and say how we felt, likely because we had done so at the exact same moment. After that point, we knew the risk we were in, and we kept it to ourselves, sneaking around when we could, but knowing it could, would never be more.

It was me who first threw out the idea that we leave the Fire Nation, and Gordez, he had been less sure then. He was reluctant, making excuses, but eventually, he had given in to my arguing. And looking back on it now, it made me wonder how real his giving in had been. As time went by, he began to seem more enthusiastic about the idea, which had given me hope at the time, even when he had said we could use the chance to do the right thing. To help people in need. I was ecstatic. The chance to not only help those who needed helping, but to be with the man I loved. And now it began to occur to me on which of those objectives the real emphasis had lied for Gordez, but no matter how I looked back on it, I was still certain that I loved Gordez, but it was clear to me now that the feelings may had been less mutual than I'd hoped.

"Are you still confused?" I asked, in one last search for hope.

"I-I don't know."

I nodded and said nothing. There was nothing to say.

"Sho-"

"Stop" I said before he could even dare to finish my name. I kept his secrets. The least he could do was keep mine. "Just stop." It felt like a hole had been ripped in my chest, my intestines wrapping around one another to tie a knot tight enough to rip me in two. I didn't risk telling him to stop a third time for fear that my words would come out choked, so I merely turned my head away from him, and continued the walk in silence.

I was so lost in my own thoughts, and, I imagined, though who could tell why I was even thinking about him, so was Gordez. Neither of us spoke a word until we'd reached the Patriot, right where we'd left her, marooned, stranded, tended to by only a lone pair of mechanics, it's boarding ramp fully extended to allow for easy entrance and exit. "I'll stock it up," Gordez said flatly, taking the wagon of supplies from me, which I let go of as soon as I felt his hand on the handle as well, not even wanting to touch him at this point in time. I didn't bother responding and decided on my own to check up on the skeleton crew, see how they were doing.

Walking through the bowels of the vessel, you could tell that Zadok and Kosah had been hard at work, working inch by inch through the ship, tearing her apart, localizing the damage, and putting her back together piece by piece. Loose wires dangled, metal panels were removed from the walls, and if I hadn't known better, I would have assumed scavengers had overpowered the duo, stripping the ship for salvage, and as I continued to move through, that thought came to mind, only being assuaged when I saw Zadok, no, Kosah, squeeze past me in the corridor, a box of tools in hand, only saying, "Hey you're back! Kosah! They're back!"

So it was Zadok.

I followed him into the engine room, where it looked as though a tornado had stormed through, nearly tearing apart the entire vessel. The engine room looked more of a scrapyard than it did what was meant to be a well-maintained Fire Navy powerhouse.

"I know it looks a little rough around the edges," Zadok said, passing the toolbox down to Kosah who seemed to be stripping apart a device of some sorts? I didn't know. This wasn't my forte.

"That would be an understatement. What are you working on?"

"Well, we think we figured out a way to get us moving. It's a temporary solution, but we're hoping it'll be enough. We're taking apart some of the more minor systems aboard the ship, such as the electrical and gas lines as well as the steamworks, all non-vital. We want to use the parts we salvage from them to try to jury-rig the engine into running once again. Normally, if power were to travel to a non-functioning system, such as the boarding ramp, it'd fry and start a fire, but we're working on rerouting the powerlines to all shift towards the engine and other necessary functions such as steering in navigation."

"Yeah, alright," I said, not understanding a thing. "I'll go fetch Gordez because I think you have the wrong guy right now."

Zadok chuckled, saying, "Yes, Boss."

Boss. I suddenly missed hearing Gordez almost say my name.

I decided while walking that I was still angry at Gordez, ending up finding him in the belowdecks mess hall, stocking the cupboards and freezers. "I'll finish here," I said. "Go see Zadok and Kosah," I said, the bare minimum, not yet deigning to reignite conversation between us.

It wasn't hard finishing up. Merely putting the equipment we'd brough over where it belonged. I noticed that Zadok and Kosah had already begun digging into the reserve supplies that we'd hidden from the Separatists. I couldn't blame them. Everyone had to eat.

When finished there, I returned to where I had used to feel most comfortable, the bridge. I couldn't tell how long I was sitting there, feet dangling over the observation deck, nothing but the steel deck below me, but it seemed to me that the sun was beginning to make its descent when I heard the steel door open and close behind me, followed my Gordez taking a seat next to me.

Enough time had passed that I wasn't exactly sure what I felt towards him anymore. I knew that I still loved him. That much was unavoidable, but throughout the day, I'd gone from loving him, to hating him, to now, just being indifferent. I had no idea how I felt anymore, and that's why it all laid on him now.

"I lied," he said, certainly having a taste for the dramatics when it came to how to start a conversation. I was too tired to ask what he had lied about. That was his job, to explain. "Half a lie, at least. About me being confused. These last few months, yes, a part of me was confused about how I felt, but that's not all that I was confused about. I was confused about what I'd do to you. I was concerned about the effect I'd have on you, on if I'd be a distraction, because so early on, I knew how I felt. In Ba Sing Se, you saved me, you saved us, you went out of your way to save Luke, to take him out of that place where he didn't belong, and since then, you've made it your number one priority to take care of people, to keep them safe, some of them by taking them along with us, and others, by defending them from those who would do them harm, and I was afraid I would get in the way. I remember that, in Ba Sing Se, you first wanted to leave because of me, because of us, but when I didn't stand in your way, you knew what mattered then, you knew it wasn't about you, or me, but doing the right thing, and I knew then how I felt, but I was worried that, if I entered the picture again, you'd forget who you were, the person I was, am, in love with. You're the good guy."

I felt a dryness in my throat, one entire half of me elated to hear how he felt about me, but the other half, absolutely terrified at what he seemed to be implying. "You forget your role in this too. It was you who helped me become who I am. It was you who helped me to become a better person, to look after those other than myself. You've never stood in the way, but you've helped me, every step of the way, towards being the best version of myself that I can. That was all you, Gordez. And that's why I know that I love you. Because you've helped me become a person that I can be proud of, and I know you, and I know that you will never stop being there to help me become that person. And that's why I know I love you.

He didn't speak after that, but only turned his head, pressing his lips to mine. The familiar strangeness of feeling him in this way was overwhelming, both an unfamiliar sensation in how long it had been, but the comfort and safety I'd always felt with him suddenly back as well, knowing again how it felt to be in the arms of the person on this Earth I prized over anyone else.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you too," I answered back, allowing ourselves to reengage in our embrace for what felt like, and I wish it had been, an eternity, but one that ended far too soon.

And so the walk back, our hands intertwined, ended up being leagues greater than the journey to. It hadn't been the easiest day, but I wanted to think that it was only uphill from here. Sadly, those prayers would only end up being in vain.

Luke

We were in position at the final location where we could hope to intercept the convoy, thanks to the clearly less-than-professional attitude of the two Separatists with whom Jadoh and I were conducting this operation.

We'd arrived at the site 20 minutes ago, roping ourselves into the trees, hauling ourselves up, perching ourselves on some lower branches, high enough to conceal us, but not enough to kill us in case of a fall or an attack from the air, which seemed to be our current plan.

I knew long before we'd arrived here that I had no desire to kill anybody today, but such a wish was easier in thought than in execution. 9 men in total. 6-foot soldiers and 3 tank operators. It was clear to everyone that the tank was the ideal target. Just jump on top of it, take out the operators, and it was done, so nobody, save Jadoh in his own mind, objected when I volunteered the two of us to take on the six-man infantry group.

"Mind telling me why we're the ones doing the hard job?" Jadoh asked.

I didn't know how to explain to him that I was prioritizing keeping some random Fire Nation soldiers trying to kill us more than my own life, so rather, I said, "You really think these dumbfuck seppies wouldn't get themselves killed trying to do it rather than us?"

"Hmph. Fair point."

We weren't waiting in the trees for too long, situated near the forest edge, but not near enough that we could see the break in the tree lines as the merciless expanse of the desert grew beyond it. As far as we could tell from where we were presently situated, we were in the center of the forest. And perhaps we had been. These forests may have been the stomping grounds of the Seppies, but it was clear to me that the minds of Pho and Lei'fo were on anything BUT the task at hand. That inference would confirm itself to be in excruciating detail in only a few moments.

We heard them before we saw them, the engine of the tank actually not what we heard first, but rather, the metallic treads digging into the earth, upheaving roots, splintering fallen branches, crumbling the dirt in its wake. I pulled my kerchief over my face, concealing my mouth and nose, much to the surprise of Jadoh who I hadn't yet revealed my nonviolent ambitions towards until I said, "Let's try to avoid killing anybody here. Keep our career paths open for future reference."

It was close enough to the truth, and understanding that, as well as the need for anonymity, not that it would matter given the wide variety of faces stretching across the Earth, Jadoh pulled his own kerchief over the bottom of his face, ready to follow my lead, much to my pleasure, not deigning to question my motives in spite of the blatant anti-Earth Kingdom activities we'd participated in not too long ago. But in part, I was right. Killing a Fire Nation soldier was whether it was the mainland, colonies, or a random outpost in the middle of nowhere. Killing an "Earth Kingdom" guard was a local matter, one that changed from region to region, or, in some cases, town to town. There was no unity, no order. It was no wonder the Fire Nation had nearly conquered a continent nearly 10 times its size.

The tank was leading the convoy. Convenient considering that the Separatists were perched on branches further from the approaching convoy than we were. We'd spring into action after they made the first move. I considered the drop down. Around 10 feet. I'd try to use a soldier to break my fall and pray that my fall was the only thing that would break.

I could already hear the chatter of the approaching soldiers, though I couldn't make out any of their words. Probably for the better. The more I dehumanize them before promptly putting their lives in jeopardy, the better. It was my intention to leave them alive, but even I was capable of admitting to myself, at the end of the day, I prized my own life more than theirs.

The tank passed underneath, the troops trailing close behind. I pointed to the one I intended on leaping on to ensure that Jadoh and I didn't choose the same target. I turned to where the separatists were, and the thumbs up given to me by Pho, immediately followed by him and Lei'fo leaping down, was enough to tell me that it was time to go. I dropped off of the branch, perfectly landing on the soldier directly below me as Jadoh landed directly to my right, crushing another soldier beneath him. Both already seemed down for the count. Good. Only 4 to go.

The soldier to my immediate left was quick to action, already lunging his spear directly at me. For a split moment, I remembered the last time a Fire Nation soldier had lunged a spear at me and remembered the scar in my shoulder that I still possessed from my time in Citadel. I didn't make the same mistake this time around. Still partly on the ground, I deflected his spear with my shortsword, not cutting through the wood as I'd hoped, but merely knocking it aside, at least giving me enough time to get to my feet, dodge his next strike, and bring down my sword in a blow powerful enough to turn the tip of his spear into a splintered mess, the iron point falling to the ground.

I kicked him in the chest, moving him out of my way, a problem for later, to focus on a soldier who actually did possess a means of killing me. This one was armed with a sword. No matter. I parried his first blow, a frenzied charge, using his momentum against him, shoving him to the ground, clumsily dropping his sword in the process. "You're new at this, aren't you?" I pitied the man and brought the hilt of my sword down on his helmet, looking up in that moment to see Jadoh duck beneath a soldier's spear, using the flat of his blade to actually trip the soldier, bringing him down as well. I grinned. Clever. I looked back on the man I'd just downed, catching glimpse of his arsenal: the dropped sword, and the spear on his back. Wait. Were they all carrying 2 weapons?

I heard the air before I heard the man's yell, barely moving out of the way of the first soldier's sword strike, grazing along my cheek in what would leave a nice scratch to tell home about, but no permanent scar that would earn me bragging rights. I had lost the advantage and found myself on the defense. He was clearly more skilled with the blade than he was the pike, and I nearly found myself tripping over one of the incapacitated bodies as he sent me on the retreat. As he pursued, nearly tripping as well in his fury, I took the moment to peer at the tank where the separatists had just slit the gunner's throat, killing him, and were now opening the main hatch. At the very least, they were distracted, giving me the time I needed to sneak a small scattershot of fire into the soldiers side, knocking him off balance, stumbling, after which I brought the full weight of my blade down on his sword, removing it from his hands, promptly knocking him from underneath his face with the flat of my blade, sending him over backwards onto the ground.

I was done with my pair, and from what I saw, Jadoh had just finished up with his first. Good. Looking over at the separatists, however, yielded less favorable results, as they decided to, rather than hijacking the tank, frustrated by the resistance the pilots were putting up, drop a lit stick of dynamite into the tank, and close the hatch. I turned just in time to see the tank shake as its fuselage tore open from an interior blast of such magnitude, the left set of treads breaking off in the process. I shook my head. "Fucking idiots" I mumbled to myself before grabbing the forearm of the soldier that Jadoh had just sent into a retreat, using the pent-up frustration to steal his unsuspecting target, knocking the butt of my sword into his forehead, sending him to the ground in a small burst of blood. He'd be feeling that for a few days. Or weeks.

The sounds of fighting now over, I could hear the cheers of Lei'fo. Pho remained silent, perhaps understanding the error they'd committed. Lei'fo seemed to have no such reservations, instead approaching Jadoh and me, yelling, "Did you see that shit?! We burnt those fuckers alive in their own tank!"

I made no effort to hide my annoyance. "You mean the fucking tank we were supposed to hijack, you shithead?!" I asked, instantly killing his joy. "How the hell do you expect us to drive that shit to Shibi, asshole?"

"They were putting up a fight!" he whined.

"Oh I'm sorry," I mocked. "The enemy was putting up a fight? How unexpected, you damned retard."

"Alright, fuck off, Luke!" he came back at me. "I made a judgement call, and it kept me and Pho alive."

Pho said nothing. He was smart enough to know the rashness that Lei'fo had demonstrated was unjustified and had compromised the entire operation.

"So how do you expect us to go to Shibi and have them believe us to be the escort?"

"Easy. We'll say we got attacked and the tank was damaged beyond repair, but at least we managed to survive. Come on, let's get on the uniforms of the soldiers you took down somehow."

"Not so fast there," I said, stopping him my placing the flat of my blade against his chest, stopping him from advancing. "Shibi is expecting a fully manned tank, and 2 infantry soldiers. 3 of us can wear normal army uniforms like the ones these soldiers and the gunner were wearing, but one of us is going to have to dress as a driver."

"The-they're in the tank I said."

"Then you better get them out."

"It's on fire."

"You better do it quickly then."

"I blew them up."

"I don't know how to stitch up clothing, so you better hope their uniforms are in one piece."

He knew I wasn't yielding, and he didn't have Pho's support in this dispute. It was 3 against 1, or even if Pho chose not to interfere, 2 against 1, and Lei'fo had played the odds already today and lost. He wasn't doing so again.

The truth was, the difference in tank operator uniforms and army uniforms was minimal, save for a few markings on the armor and a slimmer build that allowed for entrance into the tank with more ease. I wanted us to sell the illusion as well as possible, but beyond that, I wanted Lei'fo to understand that stupidity in wartime had consequences. He was lucky he only had to wear a screwed-up uniform, and not have to watch everybody he ever knew die in front of him. Truth be told, I envied him.

Within 15 minutes, Jadoh, Pho, and I had equipped our army uniforms, Pho making no note of how the soldiers were still alive ad breathing, albeit nowhere near conscious. He didn't seem to share Lei'fo's lust for blood at the very least, though that wasn't saying much. Lei'fo had spent the last 15 minutes hauling the bodies out of the extinguishing fire of the tank, salvaging the uniforms, and putting them on in double layers in a way that seemed to humble him at the very least. Under different circumstances, I'd have laughed at the image, at his humiliation, but it was hard to smile at a man you'd rather see dead in the dirt than merely discomforted.

15 minutes, I thought. A delay to be sure, but one that would sell the idea that we'd been attacked, though I liked to think that Lei'fo's image would do that well enough on its own.

We resumed the march, heading straight northeast now. The separatists knew where the town was, but it was Pho who took the lead while Lei'fo trailed behind us. I knew he resented me. While there was something unsettling about having somebody hate me with every fiber of their being, there was something satisfying of having it be somebody so detestable and horrible in every way I could imagine. If anything, I felt flattered to have him want to end my life at every moment. Good¸ I thought. Just try. See what happens.

It wasn't long until forest gave way to the outskirts of the desert, dirt battling sand in a battle of the elements that fought to deceive the eyes in a display that seemed wholly unnatural, as though one had taken a landscape painting of a forest and desert and put them size by side with one another with nothing in between.

We knew sandbenders likely wouldn't risk coming this close to the forest and relative civilization, but we didn't take our chances. We kept our guards up.

Considering how close we already were to Shibi, the rest of the march only took around another hour, and before we knew it, the walls of Shibi were in front of us. They were nothing impressive, haphazardly put together, but enough to at least ward off an inexperienced foe-sandbenders, I imagined.

It was funny, I always considered myself smart to know about the four elements. In Citadel, we believed what our eyes saw, and all that was happened to be the Fire Nation. We never pieced together the existence of a world outside those walls. Some of us even doubted the mythical fantastical war we'd heard had plagued the world for nearly a hundred years. It all felt like an eternity ago, and I couldn't help but smile in remembering the world I'd left behind, how different things had been. How different I had been.

When we reached the gates, you could read the hesitation the guards had felt from miles away. They had expected an image of a fully armed convoy of a tank and 2 soldiers guarding it. Not whatever this ramshackle mess was.

"Are you?" the first guard started. "Supposed to be the convoy?" he finished.

"That's us!" Pho yelled, the oldest among us, or, at least the oldest among us willing to talk, taking the lead, lest the younger voices of Jadoh or I give us away.

"By the spirits. What happened to the rest of you? Weren't there supposed to be like 5 or 6 more of you?"

Shit. Did our intercepted message not get through? Had Xinxing sent another one? Were we suspect? Or was this just a trap? A test? Pho looked to me, and despite the immediate shock of knowing he was asking me for what to do, I managed to recover, and cleared my throat, altering my voice to sound partially deeper, and yelled out, "There were more of us," keeping the exact numbers vague. "But we got attacked. Separatists."

"Fuuuuck," the guard said with a sincerity that I wanted to think meant he hadn't been setting a trap for us. Odds were our forged message hadn't made it and the town was basing their estimations on previous convoys. Nothing to worry about. I hoped. "Shouldn't go through those woods. Damn seppies love killing anything that steps on 'their turf'."

"We'll keep that in mind," Pho said, regaining the reigns of the conversation. "So is the caravan ready to go?"

"They are, but you sure you're fit to escort it. Your man there doesn't look to good," he said, referring to Lei'fo who refused to make eye contact.

"We're fine, and we're heading back to Xinxing anyway. The caravan can stay here if they want, but I don't think they'll like the delay in their goods back home."

"Alright, I'll let 'em know. Let them make the call." The man who I now determined to be the guard captain, turned to the man next to him, sending him off away from our view to, as far as I knew, inform the expectant caravan of our predicament and the options available. "I'll let you in for the meant time," he said, signaling to the operators for the wooden gate to open by way of pulley.

We entered the town for but a moment when a man in leather armor approached Pho who was now the supposed leader of our "escort" and asked, "Only 4 of you, huh? Think you can get us to where we need to go safe and sound?"

"We'll get you there," he answered in a voice of confidence that even I was convinced by, forgetting for a moment that our mission was to ensure exactly that didn't happen.

"Good. You want some food? Some water?"

"We'll take the water. We'll eat when we get to Xinxing."

Some water graciously offered by the locals was distributed to the 4 of us as the caravan took drinks from their own supplies, and before we knew it, we were off.

We left the town gates less than 5 minutes after we'd entered the town, sent off by the words of the guard captain saying, "Stay in the desert! Raava knows it's better than those woods!"

The caravan was nothing large. Around 15 men in total, 4 camelephants between them acting as the beasts of burden. 1 for each of us to steal. Only 2 of the men were armed, namely the leader of the caravan and his apparent bodyguard. The rest were unarmed. Good.

Travelling for the distance we were expected to be headed out for, it was unavoidable that conversations would arise. It started between the experienced caravanners, staying localized to them. It could stay that way for all I was concerned. The less I had to associate with them before robbing them blind, the better, but sadly, such wasn't the option. The first delocalized conversation began between Pho and the leader once again, who decided to ask about our supposed ambush at the hands of the separatists. I overhead as Pho recited the tale, memorizing the details in case I found myself needing to corroborate his information, but found myself distracted from that focus when a boy around my age, if only a bit older, struck up conversation.

"Say, you don't look much older than me."

"How old are you?"

"14"

"Then there's a reason for that."

"Huh. I'm Zanny by the way. You are…?"

"13," I said, knowing I wasn't answering his intended question.

"They let you in the army?" He asked, starstruck by a kid whose only distinct feature was that he wore Fire Nation armor. Then again, did I blame him? I hadn't been too different when I watched the Fire Nation soldiers march into the Citadel slums for the first time. Then again, that had only been the first time. From then on, their uniforms no longer awed me. They weren't symbols of the fantastic anymore. They were symbols that somebody was about to die, whether they were being publicly executed, or drafted into the war effort.

"I wouldn't say I had much of a choice in the matter." If I could do one good deed here, it would be to crush whatever sense of wonderment this child had in warfare.

"Oh," he said, pretending to understand, promptly betraying said deception by asking with such disgusting eagerness, "Have you seen any fighting?"

"Yes," I had no reason to lie. Why would I? This kid wanted stories; I'd give him some. "At Ba Sing Se."

"Oh," he said, immediately dissuaded. "We lost there, though."

"If that's how you want to look at it. For a lot of us, at the end there, we wanted to go home more than we wanted to take that city."

"How could you say that?!" he deigned to ask me, "The war could have ended there!"

While I didn't disagree, and shared his sentiment, the truth was that it simply hadn't mattered anymore. When you fought the war that old men debated in grand rooms with large maps between them, your interest in the war effort went no further than the men trying to kill you and the men trying to keep you alive. "Maybe," I admitted, a part of me knowing in hindsight that he was likely right. "But I hate to tell you, kid, you reach a point where you just don't care anymore, when everybody you've ever known is dying around you, and every extra day you spend there means somebody else you know dying in front of you if it isn't you yourself."

His queries ended there, but for some reason, I felt a tang of regret, not for telling him the truth, but for completely shutting him down, a guilt that festered as his head slumped, forced to travel the rest of the route beside me in silence until I worked up the courage to ask, "So what are you doing here?"

"That's my dad," he said, pointing to the leader of the caravan. "He runs this outfit. He's part of a bigger company, but he gets paid by commission pretty much, so what we take home depends on how much we sell. This is our first time actually getting our hands on something worth selling. Dyes and silks. The people in the Fire Nation love this stuff, I hear. Dad's hoping he can finally make enough from this deal to pay off his debt to the company and move away from the Nip Sea."

"Here's hoping that all goes well," I responded generically, trying to avoid getting any more emotional with the people I was about to rob in a few minutes' time.

I bit my lip. This was exactly the kind of thing I was trying to avoid. And now I realized the folly we were all making. Everybody here had seen our faces, heard our voices, even engaged in conversations with us. They would remember us here. Damnit.

As if on cue, Pho moved between us, tapping first me, then Jadoh, then Lei'fo on the shoulders, drawing our eyes to him as we began unstrapping our sheaths, preparing to draw our weapons. It was about to begin. I looked to the right, headed south. The forest was right there. We'd hold up the crowd, tie 'em up, the head straight into forest. I returned my eyes to Pho in time to see his hand at his side go from 3 fingers, to 2, to 1, then it all began.

He unsheathed his sword, butting his hilt into the man to his immediate right, then the one to his left, the leaders, sending him falling to the ground, his blade flying to the sand. I took the bodyguard, grabbing his arm by the wrist as it reached for his sword, batting him in the face with my fist still clenched around the hilt of my sword, adding extra weight to the punch that send him to the ground.

I moved over to Lei'fo as he unsheathed his blade, keeping an eye on him to ensure he did nothing rash as the 4 of us held the crowd at sword point, ordering them, "Down to the ground!" as Pho ordered.

He kept his blade pointed at the leader and the bodyguard, who I promptly confiscated his sword from while he was distracted stopping the blood flowing from his nose, also finding the leader's blade that had been tossed to the sand.

I scanned the audience, avoiding letting my eyes meet Zanny's, ashamed to meet him eye to eye.

"Luke, Jadoh," Pho said while keeping his eyes on the crowd. "Grab the counts. Lei'fo and I will handle crowd control."

I nodded, overhearing as some of the crowd made objections while being ushered to the ground until Pho silenced them, saying, "I'm sorry, but this is a robbery. We're going to be taking your goods, and if you hope to go back home and poor rather than rich and dead, I suggest you all get to the ground, and wrap your hands behind your heads.

I had no time to analyze the reactions of the audience, too busy ushering the mounts past the crowd towards our side of the exchange, holding 2 of the camelephants by their reigns as Jadoh followed suit, doing the same, leading them back to our lines, in order for me to turn around to see that not everybody had followed Pho's orders, their leader among them. Please go to the ground. Do it for your son.

"He said get to the fucking ground!" Lei'fo ordered, batting the man in the head with the hilt of his sword, sending blood flying onto the sand as Zanny's voice exclaimed, "Dad!". I moved to intercept, but it was Pho's words, "Calm down" that sent Lei'fo stepping back.

I moved to see if the man was already as he remained on his knees, and the others followed suit, convinced by the demonstration to yield. It was all in order. Thank the spirits. I sheathed my sword, following Pho's next order, "Grab the mounts. Get them ready to go, now!"

I turned back to the mounts shifting the packages to make room for us to sit, thinking the situation to be over, Pho coming to join us, but Lei'fo had hung back. "You know," I heard him say, "I think it would be for the best if we just slaughtered you pathetic pigs, getting rich off of invading a land that doesn't belong to you. I'd be doing the world a favor."

"Give it a rest, Lei'fo!" called Pho.

"Shut the fuck up, Pho," he said, clearly done with the impromptu command structure. "Nobody put you in charge. Now, where was I?" he asked, turning back to the leader, Zanny's father. "Oh right. I was talking about gutting every last one of you."

I couldn't avoid it forever, and I saw him, Zanny, looking right at me, no room for hate in his eyes, on tears, fear, terror, the threat of sudden death approaching, his sniffles all I could hear in that moment of deathly silence between Lei'fo's threats.

"I think I'll start with that bitch son of yours,"

"You stay away from him!" Zanny's father exclaimed, rising to his feet, shoving against Lei'fo, actually sending him stumbling back. Lei'fo recovered, raising his blade, only for me to get in between them at the last possible moment, yelling, "Enough! It's over!" The hate, the rage, the intent to kill in Lei'fo's eyes was enough to terrify anybody, but I had seen men like him before had been a man like him before, and I wasn't yielding, but he did, and so did Zanny's father. Thank Raava. Lei'fo turned, and the father retreated in silence.

I don't know what had changed in that moment, but I felt it, whether it was the trembling of the sand, the sound of his blade unsheathing once more, or the energy of his renewed, unstoppable, desire to kill, but I felt him coming. The innocent father had felt it too, and saw it coming. I moved my way in front of him, planting my back to his chest, and reached into my belt. Within a second, I had caught Lei'fo wrist, moving his blade just an inch away from my face where it would have impaled through my skull into the man's neck, and had plunged my dagger into his stomach. He stopped right there in his tracks, and I had trouble remembered what hit the ground first: his sword, or his knees, but he had dropped down there, and coughed out his first of many chokes of blood.

I had no idea what was about to transpire in those next moments, but it seemed that all involved in this encounter were in equal states of shock, but when I turned to Pho and Jadoh, none of them seemed on a course to interfere. It was done. I turned back to the father, and said, "Down on the ground," to which he immediately complied.

Lei'fo fell backwards, his back to the sand. I felt no pity for the man. I made a promise to myself, and I intended to keep it. I wiped his blood off on his shirt and as he lay there dying, choking on his own blood, it was some strange cruelty, some desire for revenge that made me lean over him, and whisper into his left ear, "I had a ten and a two, you psychopathic fuck." I don't think he'd even understood what I was saying, and I didn't care.

I returned to my people. "Tie his camelephants to yours," Pho said, understanding the events that had just transpired. I did so with ease and settled onto my mount. The company we left behind were all still on the ground, clearly terrified by the incident that had just transpired. In one final act of goodwill, I brought my leg up, and kicked off a loose container that had been sitting at the top of what would have been Lei'fo's mount, in my mind calling it "his cut" but nobody doubted what my intentions were, and none moved to stop me.

I didn't know how to feel about the Separatists after that day. I knew how to view them as an organization, but not as people. I'd met one I despised, and one I admired today. They were people, just like anybody else, just like any Fire Nation soldier I'd ever met, capable of both good and evil, and as we rode away, towards the forest, back home, I considered what I had done, and I had no regrets, consequences be damned. I saw what war did, who it affected-more often than not, those who wanted no part of it. I made a promise a while back, to never inflict harm on those undeserving of it, and to protect said people. I kept to my promise today, and as we neared, the forest, I looked behind me once more to see a shorter and taller silhouette enter a desperate embrace: a father and son and realized then that I had no regrets.

I did what I did, and if they killed me back at camp for treason, I'd die knowing I finally did something to put the world back together instead of tearing it apart.