Zhao

The battlefield had cleared. The shards of glass for sand that had been flying through the afternoon air only seconds ago had now settled to new resting places on the ground, likely on account of whatever tribe had ambushed us not wanting to damage what merchandise their victims would be carrying on them.

Speaking of said victims, I looked around me. It seems that the survivors had found themselves spared of the onslaught through similar means by which I had lived as well, using the beasts of burden, now dead, as cover. Most of the merchants were among the dead. I managed to spot one or two, still alive, hiding beneath the rhinoceros beetles that had been alive only minutes ago. The rest however, those who hadn't been so fortunate, they rested atop their beasts, still strapped in, their bodies lying limp, keeled over, skin torn to shreds, blood flowing down their lifeless corpses.

They were not the only among the dead. In looking back, I could see two men armored as us lying motionless on the ground. I wanted to tell myself that possibly, they were only injured, but in seeing the sand surrounding their bodies slowly absorb the fresh blood as it spewed out of the numerous wounds I was sure they bore, I wasn't so sure. I wonder who they are. I shook my head. I couldn't dwell on that. We were surrounded.

I looked back still, attempting to find any familiar among those still standing. They all seemed just as I was, frozen, too afraid to even move save one brave soul, or perhaps idiot, left cover, heading directly towards where I was, sliding into cover behind my side, now allowing me to see the face behind the helmet. Harzek. Being at the top of a hill as we were, he needed not fear being detected so long as he kept low. "Zai'li and Theo are down," he began with, now verifying to me who it was we had lost. "We're surrounded," he whispered then, stating the obvious, but I understood, it was more him talking to himself, still thinking on what to do about the present situation.

"Sandbenders probably think we're all dead."

"No," Harzek countered. "They're expecting some survivors, but they won't use more force than necessary if they can avoid it. Don't want to damage the merchandise." He had come to the same assessment I had in that regard.

"They'll send a close recon team to pick off any survivors. Think they saw our uniforms?"

"From that distance? It's unlikely but can never be too sure. Assume the worst. Assume they know our numbers, our affiliation, our equipment, close personal relations, everything."

"Should we try taking them as hostages when they come?" I suggested. "We simply pick off their men, they won't hesitate to use that extra bit of force and wipe us out even if that means losing the cargo."

"Assuming they even send scouts up. Might just wait. See if we make the first move."

"Lieutenant!" I heard a loudened whisper from somewhere off in the rear. Harzek and I instinctually both turned towards the voice that, upon further inspection, belonged to Krezk. "What's the move?"

"Hold your ground, and stay still!" Harzek whispered back. "That means talking to. We don't need the sandbenders burying us in this hill because they thought they heard something."

The soldier simply nodded, already following his superior's orders. To lose Zai'li and Theo that way. It was nasty business, to be torn up by the elements that way, and these soldiers didn't exactly strike me as seasoned vets. I had no doubt morale had already taken a blow, but they were still soldiers, trained as the rest of us had been. They'd follow orders, they'd get the job done, and hopefully, we'd all come out of this alive.

It wasn't long until the one edge, anonymity, we'd hoped we'd possess, was grinded into dirt as one of the tribesmen, one we could only presume to be their leader, called out, voice seemingly amplified by some form of device, announced, "Fire Nation! We have you surrounded. Your countrymen aren't here to save you, but we have no qualms with you nor your Nation. Stand down, allow us to appropriate you of your goods, and you will all be unharmed."

A clear way as any to draw out one's prey for easy pickings. I turned to Harzek. He was just as unamused by the sandbender's claim. "Goods must be important to him," I whispered. "Going through this effort to draw us out."

"Or just doesn't want to put his men at risk. Moment we step out, whether it's to surrender or right, they'll just catch us in another one of those storms and tear us to shreds."

"Maybe not. Storm like that, takes many of them at the same time. A lot of concentration. This ambush was planned, they were ready for us. If we go on the offense, keep them scattered, don't give them to chance to join their power, we won't have to worry about anything quite nearly as devastating as that."

"Going on the offense? Are you insane!? That's exactly what they want!"

"They want us to come out with our hands behind our heads. We feign surrender with half our force, allow the other half to launch a surprise attack, followed by the others joining in, we'll maintain some degree of surprise, perhaps enough to catch them off guard and divide their ranks."

"'Perhaps?'"

"Nothing is a sure call, but I can't think of anything else. Can you?" I hadn't asked it as a challenge, nor did it seem that he took it as one.

He simply allowed his head to drop as he considered, realizing that indeed, nothing came to mind. "No," he simply let out. "Faking surrender might just be our only chance."

I nodded my head. The firebenders and archers should stay back, take them from a range.

Harzek nodded, craning his head upwards, allowing his voice to be relayed the furthest possible distance as he called out, "Alright! Alright! We're coming out!"

There was a pause, as though they themselves were trying to comprehend how that'd worked. "How many of you are there?" He eventually responded with.

"There are 8 of us!"

"We saw more of you ride in!"

"They-they didn't make it."

8 of us, I mused. 8 infantrymen, including Harzek. And 8 ranged fighters, myself included.

"Alright then, bring 'em out, hands behind your heads, slowly!"

Harzek turned towards me. "I'll take the men to the surrender. You gather the firebenders and archers, and on my signal, you come out of cover, and rain fire."

"What'll the signal be? Don't want us to miss it."

"I'll yell at you to kill them all."

"Hmm. Don't think I'll be missing that then."

"Good. Let's go."

He left with but a nod, remaining crouched down as he gathered his men, myself noticing as I watched as he directed the ranged fighters towards me, ordering them to go prone and make their ways to my position as he motioned for the others to rise with him, sheathing their weapons which they kept at their sides, stationing their hands behind the backs of their heads.

They were going in, for the most part, defenseless, the only thing standing between them and certain death being us.

Harzek's men were with me now, myself scanning among their faces, now being able to assign some of them to the names that belonged to them: Zaphri, Kodek, He'zari, and the others who I was still working on. They awaited my orders, and so I relayed the plan simply enough. "Harzek and his men will be posing as prisoners. They'll be serving as a distraction to draw the sandbenders' attention away from us." They understood. I could see it in their eyes: the fear. They'd seen their comrades torn into by grains of sand sent towards them at such a high velocity it may as well have been steel daggers. They didn't envy putting themselves on the line for risk of that occurring to them. They required incentive, and I knew how to provide it. "Our friends are out there, serving as a distraction against a threat of unknown strength and number. If we stay here, they'll kill us all. Your comrades are putting their lives on the line so we can have a chance. Our job is to ensure that this plan succeeds and that they remain unharmed. This is how we get out. This is how we survive. Am I understood?"

The fear was still there, in their eyes. I hadn't anticipated any different. No part of me was expecting them to suddenly forget the threat they faced, but now, they understood the stakes. This wasn't about them; this was about each other. This was about our mission and our compatriots. We had only one shot to make this work, and we had to make it count. They saw this, and their faces hardened as the archers drew arrows from their quivers and the benders, myself among them, readied their flames.

I could hear the shadows of conversation form beyond the beetle's carcass. The sandbender's voice, no longer amplified by whatever machination he had been using, was faint, but still the loudest of them all as he projected his authority. I had no doubt that the eyes of the benders were on them, and thus allowed myself a peak at the soon-to-be warzone.

Indeed, we were surrounded, by what appeared to be an entire tribe at that. I counted at least 3 dozen men, and 6 sand-sailers. Somewhat overkill, no? Despite their numbers, they were for the most part spread out, only somewhat congested at the location of where the "prisoners" were being assembled, likely already being readied for an execution team to end their lives. Won't come to that. I ducked back down, relaying the numbers to the others, and we chose our targets. The desert air somehow grew even warmer as the flames of the benders strengthened in preparation for the fight ahead. Good. We'll need everything we can get.

The talking continued, growing louder now, almost to a yell, but was nothing in comparison to when Harzek's voice shot out, "Now!"

We burst out of cover. The eyes of the sandbenders were on Harzek and his men. Their mistakes. We had our targets chosen, and in a matter of seconds, 5 sandbenders went down, two arrows missing and one firebender's blast hitting a target that an archer had chosen. No matter. My own blast, as I'd chosen for myself, struck the tribal chief in his shoulder, bringing him immediately to the ground. It was at this very moment that our own men on the ground, on the front lines, ceased the ruse, reaching for their own weapons, Krezk, from what I saw, being the quickest among them, bringing his shortsword from his sheath to the nearest sandbender's neck all within the same second in a blurred flourish that merely sent a spurt of blood into the air, falling upon the sand where more blood was sure to be spilled in these next few moments.

All hell broke loose. The sandbenders were in disarray as they attempted to assess who was the origin of the threat, some cries calling for them to kill the prisoners, and other speaking of the other threat atop the hill, being us. Their confusion bought us another 6 kills, evenly split between my group and Harzek's myself among my team's 3, having sent a ball of fire that shot directly through a sandbender's midsection, falling to his knees and later to the ground in a pathetic heap.

Their confusion could only last so long however, and soon enough, they had retreated to cover behind their sand-sailers, already returning fire blow to blow, a wave of sand colliding with one of our infantrymen, the hastiness of the attack luckily sparing the man's life.

By this point, the firebenders and I were leaving cover, agility, and movement the cornerstones of a firebender's fighting style. The archers remained in place however, providing covering fire as the infantrymen were forced to lie in hiding, unable to move beyond the intensifying sandbender defense, which, soon enough, would become an offense.

From beyond the hill, the commotion had been heard, and within the 2 minutes from which point the fighting had begun, they had already mounted their vehicles and had rounded the hill, approaching us from our exposed rears.

"Take out the sailers!" I yelled, diverting the attention of my firebenders towards the approaching vehicles, a combined onslaught of fire enough to tear about the first sandbender mount, sending it into flying chucks from the resulting explosion, the survivors, downed and disoriented, quickly being picked off by Harzek's infantrymen who were moving forward, using the wreck as cover just as the second vehicle had approached. They, however, had been smarter, parking behind their predecessor's wreck, disallowing a line of sight for my benders. Their own men began to dismount, a cohesive wave of sand toppling the wrecked bits of the old sailer that Harzek's men had been using for cover, downing 3 of our men, condition unknown.

We were being pushed back, our benders included, forced into a retreat by the influx of sandbenders. The archers themselves were pinned down, a fireteam of sandbenders now approaching them, just barely warded off by me and Zaphri's combined defense, killing the sandbenders before they could ascend the hill, their bodies rolling down the incline until they reached the bloody field, not far from where Harzek's infantry and my firebenders now found ourselves using a sailer for cover. We were pinned down, surrounded, having traded one encirclement for another.

Any effort to rise out of cover was met with the blistering daggers of sand grains. 2 of my benders were just barely holding the rear, but the sandbender assault was intensifying. One more of our men was down, this one dead beyond all shadow of a doubt, his face torn to shreds in being directly caught in a burst of sand-knives, turning his face into a bloodied mess within his helmet, falling to the ground completely unrecognizable, myself needing to dispel my disbelief to understand that he had been human, one of us, just seconds ago.

They were drawing near, controlling the sandstorm around themselves to remain protected as they approached. The moment we even slightly raised our heads, we'd be demolished. We were trapped. The men tried hiding their fear, or maybe it was the adrenaline doing that, but the situation was far from a pleasant one.

How many had we killed? Perhaps 17 by this point? They still outnumbered us. One of our men was dead, and multiple were wounded. I saw no solution. I would say I was frightened, but anger would better sum up my emotions in that moment, angry at the sandbenders, at Harzek, at myself, at everyone and everything for stopping me to hear, so close to my goal, so close to salvation for the Fire Nation, for me. So yes, it was anger, unbridled, unmatched, at least for the next few seconds until it was replaced by surprise.

The sun finally shone through beyond the mist of the sandstorm, the sand around us no longer weaponized into flying killing machines. The surprise I felt was no exclusive to myself it seemed, myself noticing this as the other soldiers exchanged similar looks until we rose, believing this to be an accident, one that, at the very least, would allow us to score a few more kills before returning to cover. We rose, and as expected, the sandbenders were still there, though their attention was not focused on us.

I turned around, just in the nick of time to catch the sight of a sand-sailer being torn in half by an upheaval of sand rising from the ground, sending its occupants flying into the air in mangled messes of blood and gore, their remains falling to the ground just in front of the sight of new approaching sand-sailers. Enemy reinforcements? No. Not enemy. At least not yet.

"It's the Hami!" came a voice, not one of our own. The fear was apparent, and it was justified. 5 sand sailers were circling the battlefield, slowly picking off our shared enemies one at a time, multiple hostiles falling in a matter of seconds as their far more mobile opponents picked them off one at a time. We seized the opportunity, rising our of cover as well to push our own offense, catching the remaining sandbenders with their backs turned to us.

It was only when we had already taken down 3 of them, 2 from fire blasts, and 1 from Harzek's sword impaling a sandbender through the small of his back, kicking him to the ground off of his blade shortly after, that the sandbenders were reminded of our presence, their attention bow divided between the two threats.

It was only a matter of seconds until the last of them had fallen, crumpling to his knees, coughing one last mouthful of blood before noticing the empty hole left in his chest, wide enough for the setting sunlight to pass through, before falling face forward to the ground in a puddle of his own blood, dead.

We stood, waiting, some eyes passing to our dead and wounded as the archers rejoined our ranks, but for the most part, our eyes were set on the newcomers, many of us still in combat positions, ready for the possible outcome that perhaps, these weren't saviors, merely yet another enemy threat. They're Hami. They're who we were looking for. Maybe this can still work out.

The sailers continued to circle us for a time until they had come to the realization that we were not firing on them, and that the rival tribesmen had been thoroughly eliminated. They slowed to a stop, waiting. For what? The answer to that became clear enough as they made way for a new sailer, one far more decorated, armored, clearly belonging to what I could only assume to be their leader. And sure enough, from atop the sailer descended a man not merely bearing the wrappings of the usual sandbender, but also adorning armor, both practical and ceremonial from the looks of it. I believe I caught sight of an Earth Kingdom chest plate as well as what may have the armguard of a Fire Nation soldier, though there was little way of knowing for certain in how weathered and beaten his armor was.

He approached, and as expected, Harzek stepped forward in kind. I kept close behind Harzek, figuring if it came to it, nobody was better suited to explain our objective was than I was. And sure enough, that was the first question the man asked, his voice taking on a metallic quality to it in how it was muffled from beneath the helmet. "Fire Nation in the Desert. This is unusual. Why does the Fire Nation present itself in an environment for which it is clearly unsuited?

Harzek turned back, his eyes turning forward, expecting me to be among the others, but a brief glimpse of surprise met my presence directly behind him. He quickly recovered however, nodding to me to explain, just as I had predicted.

I stepped forward, clearing my throat, the adrenaline from the battle still having my heart racing at what I could only assume to be far above healthy levels. My survival however brought with it as well, a degree of satisfaction, myself not wanting for anything, save a glass of water perhaps. I cleared my throat again, a bitter taste in my mouth as my flight or fight instincts had kicked in amidst our fight to the death. "We're here." I coughed. "We're here because we seek knowledge. For knowledge that is hidden in the desert. We believe you know where it can be found."

Behind his helmet, the man's face was unreasonable, but his posture said something in itself, perhaps amusement. "You want us to guide you through the desert?"

"We suggest a trade," Harzek intervened.

The man laughed. "And what, pray tell, do you have to trade?" Harzek turned back, and my eyes followed as he looked up the hill to where the dead mounts, and tethered to them, their treasures lay still.

The chief's eyes had followed, and he turned back to us, soon met by the combined gaze of Harzek and me. I didn't know what was going through the man's head, whether it was that this shipment was intended for him originally, that he could take it from us with ease without needing to escort nor provide for us, or simply to kill us here on the spot. However, rather than acting upon any of these potential thoughts, he merely looked at us, or at least I assumed so judging by the position of his helmet, and said, simply, "It'll do."