After standing on the balcony a little longer and "gathering my thoughts," I returned to flagship's command room and settled into the admiral's chair. Once seated, I sipped some genuinely excellent wine and lost myself into thought.
The appearance of a spirit that had casually sunk several warships had obviously demoralized both soldiers and officers. It was certainly possible to order an assault even under those conditions, but the effectiveness would be... yeah. Not great.
So what could be done about it? Hmm... nothing improves morale quite like a consequence-free artillery bombardment.
"Commodore, organize harassing bombardments. We mustn't allow our enemies to relax."
"At once, Herald!" the officer immediately snapped to attention.
"And issue every man a hundred grams," I added, remembering my own reaction to the sight of that giant water monstrosity bearing down on us just in time...
***
Toward dawn, a flying bison was spotted hastily departing the Pole, but no one managed to bring it down. Pursuit? Theoretically possible, certainly, but there was no real chance of success. By the time a pursuer turned around and got on course... well, it would have been pointless. Zuko had already proven that on multiple occasions.
At sunrise, the more-or-less rested Fire Nation troops launched another assault. This time, however, the defenders, exhausted and demoralized both by the Spirit's withdrawal and the Avatar's flight, barely resisted anymore. The city's remaining four walls fell within two hours, and by the third, I was already coming ashore myself and inspecting the waterbenders who had been forced to their knees.
My saboteurs stood off to one side, along with Iroh and Prince Zuko.
For some reason, the fact that he was still alive provoked no reaction beyond weary resignation. A sluggish thought briefly flickered across the edge of my consciousness that I could kill both of them right now without much difficulty, but it vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
"General, it's good to see you again. Prince." I gave a nod.
"Chan, I'm glad you survived," the elderly firebender said with a smile. "Hm... when did you get gray hair at the temples?" he added, frowning.
Gray hair? Well, that wasn't surprising. Frankly, at this rate, it was a wonder I hadn't suffered a heart attack already.
"Probably when I threatened the Ocean Spirit." The general nearly choked, while the prince stared wide-eyed and nearly forgot how to breathe. "But I'd very much like to know why it appeared in the first place. And where Admiral Zhao disappeared to. I have a number of very unpleasant questions for him."
"I'm afraid we're unlikely ever to see the admiral again..." And with that, Iroh began his story.
First, the reports of the prince's "death" had been needed to mislead the now-former commander of the Western Fleet, because both the prince and the general suspected that the assassination attempt—which had indeed taken place—had been organized by Zhao himself. They had no proof, however, not even circumstantial evidence.
When I reasonably asked why they hadn't informed me—after all, an attempt on a member of the royal family was a rather serious crime—the pair became noticeably uncomfortable and failed to provide a concrete answer.
Fair enough. They hadn't trusted me. Not really my problem.
But on to the second point.
As it turned out, the cartoon hadn't lied. Zhao really had taken a swipe at the little white fish, and as a result ended up getting eaten by the big black one after it went berserk.
Third, after the Spirit's rampage, the Avatar himself had come very close to joining his ancestors, but survived after all. In a near-vegetative state, he had been loaded onto the flying bison and carried off in an unknown direction.
My saboteurs had tried to capture the fugitives, but they were promptly dunked by the girl who left with the Avatar. Moreover, they had been reluctant to take excessively drastic measures near the pond from which the THING had emerged—and into which it had later returned—so they never really stood a chance against Katara. Because who else could it have been?
"...and that's how it happened," the general concluded. "What about you? How did you manage to drive the Spirit away?"
"With a kind word and a demolition team at the lake," I replied, nodding toward my saboteurs. "If the Spirit had continued its revenge, my men would have blown up the oasis."
"Hm." Iroh frowned. "A rather risky course of action."
"Perhaps, but the alternative was the destruction of the fleet and the drowning of several thousand of our people. Not to mention the consequences of such a defeat."
"You're right," the general admitted with a heavy sigh. His nephew certainly hadn't emerged from this affair as a victor.
We stood there in silence for a while.
"What do you intend to do with the captured city, Herald?" Iroh finally asked, sweeping his gaze across the kneeling waterbenders and warriors of the Water Tribe.
"I think we'll establish a military administration, leave a garrison, and gradually prepare the groundwork for integrating these people into the Fire Nation. Naturally, they won't immediately understand or accept our way, but given time and the proper approach..."
"You may conquer us, but you'll never make slaves of us!" one of the younger waterbenders shouted theatrically. He couldn't have been more than nineteen or twenty. He was immediately silenced by a spear haft slammed into his stomach, but the prisoners clearly agreed with him.
"Slaves?" I turned toward the captives. "Slavery is inefficient. A man who owns a slave owns an enemy... unless, of course, that slave was born and raised a slave. But that's not our situation, is it?"
With a promising smile, I looked directly into the heckler's eyes. He turned visibly pale.
"No, it isn't," I echoed with satisfaction. "And so we'll do things somewhat differently. I think Lord Ozai will appreciate the idea. A reliable yoke for you, and a useful support for us in the future..."
Why were even my own troops looking at me with a certain degree of apprehension?
(End of Chapter)
P@treon: /SadRaven
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