The Chong Sheng Trilogy: War by rachelthedemon

The Final Stand

Disclaimer: I own not, you sue not.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Chong Sheng Trilogy

PART I: War

Chapter 19: The Final Stand

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



The only thing keeping Zuko's panic in check was the thought that if this went badly enough, he was free to beat the everloving daylights out of Sokka once they were back on solid ground. And that Katara would be more than willing to help him. Provided they were still alive by then, of course.

That possibility was looking pretty remote as he swooped under an incoming fireblast, loosing one of his own in answer at the shooter. He barely managed to dodge the return fire, though he chalked that up to using most of his willpower not to panic.

It's not a trebuchet, Zuko. It's a hang glider. You can control it.

His stare hardened in affirmation of that thought, flinging a wide, arcking whip of bright orange flame at an incoming line of balloons. It sliced into their canopies with a roar, eating away at the cloth as what was left of the craft began to drift to the ground.

He had hardly a moment to look up before another volley of fireblasts made him angle into a sharp, evasive dive. It was weird bending only with his arms, and the control needed to control his feet so as not to bank when he didn't want to challenged even his level of discipline. But it was certainly better than not bending at all. He climbed back up to return fire, sweeping his arm and sending a wide arc of flame their way.

"Zuko! Behind you!"

He barely had time to look before a razor-sharp metal blade flew past his ear, and a curse rang out behind him. He turned, seeing a man in an armored Major's attire clutching his heavily bleeding hand while his crewmates attempted to aid him. Ahead of him, Sokka swooped in on a more powerful gust, brandishing one of the crude knives he'd fashioned.

They have my back. It's okay. I've just gotta bring down as many as I can.

He huffed in a breath, spreading one of his palms flat in front of him, drawing it in a wide arc of flame and wrapping the end around his hand and wrist. The next line of poised craft raced closer, and his other arm shot forward as he bore down on them while he wrapped the other end around his free hand and held the flames taut. As he neared the final approach, he held front of him, feeling only the tiniest resistance as it sliced through each canopy before he pulled up to evade retaliation.

He split the arc into a fire whip for each hand, banking around again to the front lines of the fleet, cruising between the first and second. The staggered formation was hardly a contest as he flung one whip, then the other in timed cracks, snapping cable and tearing through canopy in a rhythm of crashing and hissing.

The gap between them and the front wall had shrunk considerably, to were he could make out the individual archers in the line, and see the ammunition pages darting between to make sure nobody was left with a bow and nothing to fire. If anything, they had to slow down the front of the fleet more than the back of it. The fewer able craft to reach bombing range, the better.

He pulled out of the cruise, joining the far ends of his whips and letting go of the one in his left as he banked for the head of the next line. Huffing in a huge breath of the thinnest air to ever enter his lungs, he loosed the now gigantically long whip as far down the line as he could get it.

The noise was unbelievable. A crack of monstrous thunder as the shock of the whip split the air itself. Several of those unlucky enough to man their doomed craft had to cover their ears with an outraged wince of pain, a precious few seconds of being allowed a human weakness before they tried desperately to regain control of their vessels.

It was then that he felt the cold bite of ice crystals across his face, and looked up to see a fellow glider preparing to mow down the next line.

Katara swept in toward him, pulling the water from her skin and freezing the end of the whip into a harpoon-like spike. He watched her ready it, narrowing one eye as she drew back her arm and took aim for the line of balloons he'd just passed.

And that's when he saw it.

One of them moved up behind her, manned by three infantrymen, or so their uniforms told him. An old captain and two privates, each looking about his own age. The former raised his hand in a readying gesture, and his two fearful-looking subordinates each took stance for a fireblast. Aimed right for her back.

They would fire at any moment. Even if he brought the craft down, they would not be adverse to taking a last shot rather than put on the escape parachutes. He could not give them a chance.

There was no time to think. Only to take in a powering breath, sighting along his arm and channeling as much energy as he could into his fist until it started to smoke between his clenched fingers. He narrowed his eyes at the craft, even as his arm shook. It would be okay. They wouldn't be able to return fire or feel pain. There wouldn't be time.

He opened his fist, relaxing his chest to absorb the recoil as the canon-like blast rushed toward the craft. The flames cleared scarcely a moment later in the thin air, revealing charred scraps of canopy and basket and rope falling down toward the trees. No sign of the men who had been on board. A part of him wondered if a split second was long enough to suffer. The rest of him just shook in revulsion at the thought and didn't want to know the answer.

He felt sick.

It's war.

They're still people. It's still life.

Better theirs than yours.

Can I really be that selfish?

Okay, better theirs than hers.

As much as he tried, he couldn't bring himself to argue with that.

****

She let the harpoon fly, watched it pierce through balloon after balloon, racing above the line and swooping down to catch it after it cleared the last one. The moon rose on her left, the light fading at her right, and she welcomed the answering surge of strength. If they were going to attack near nightfall, it was obvious to her they hadn't anticipated help from a Waterbender. Not that she minded having the element of surprise.

Certainly not as she dove through an impressive volley of attack fire, both fireblasts from the advancing fleet, and arrows from the walls of the defending city. In a way, fighting at night was easier. They could see her even worse than she could see them, since they would have to reveal their position if they wanted to attack.

She broke the harpoon into separate shards as she approached another line, splaying her fingers and shoving her hands forward. The ice daggers flew off, tearing through the cables of each balloon and sending the baskets plumetting as the crew scrambled for parachutes.

She looked back at the wall, anger flaring at the rapidly closing gap. They had to do something to slow the fleet's advance, not just chip off the leading edge. A brush of wind from below made her turn to see a rather white-faced Zuko climbing up on her left.

"This isn't working," she said. "We're doing damage, but they're still gaining."

He nodded, surveying the gap. She could see the dark outlines of the archers as they fired another volley of arrows, and the men loading the trebuchets to hit the back lines. There was maybe another ten miles between the front line and the wall. With their current rate, the first bombs would be dropping in a couple hours. She narrowed her eyes, thoughtful for a moment.

"Go find Aang. I think I have a way to slow them, but I need his help."

"What are you going to do?"

"You'll see. Trust me, I just need his help."

He frowned, but nodded, swooping away from her.

Clouds were just water. And they were all around them. Why she didn't think to use this earlier, she'd never guess. Aang cruised up beside her a few minutes later, more serious than she thought he was capable of until today.

"What's your plan?"

"Back at the North Pole," she murmured, "the walls meant the Fire Navy ships had to either break them down or file in through a narrow passage."

"Well yeah, but...we don't really have walls, here."

"We have clouds, though."

He arched a brow at her, as if she'd grown bat wings and a spiked tail. "Clouds aren't walls. Not very good ones, anyway."

"No. But they're made of water."

He looked at her, then at the fluffy clouds of which she spoke. When he met her gaze again, a smile had spread the breadth of his face. "You? Are a genius."

She smiled back. "I just need you to help me. Grab Sokka and go about five hundred yards ahead to the left flank. We'll have five minutes to build the wall, but I think that's enough time. And they'll hit it before they realize what we're doing. I'll grab Zuko and take the right flank."

He nodded, giving her a salute before banking off to find Sokka. She dove off to get Zuko, catching up to him as he flung a fire whip at another ill-fated balloon. She cupped her hands around her mouth, yelling for him.

"Zuko!"

He looked up in surprise, catching a thermal to cruise up beside her. "What is it?"

"Follow me. Aang and I have a plan to slow the fleet, but we need you and Sokka to be out of the way."

He shook his head in confusion, but did as told. *What do you mean out of the way?"

"On the right flank," she said. "Far enough ahead of the front line."

His lips pursed. "Do I want to know?"

"You'll find out in a minute whether you do or not. Just be ready to start cutting into the fray in the next five minutes."

He seemed to accept that as a given as she looked across the expanse of sky to Aang, who gave her the signal. The both of them dove in a crisscrossing pattern ahead of the front lines, gathering and pushing massive rolls of cloud into a thick, fluffy wall in front of the advancing fleet. She brought up another floor of cloud cover under the balloons while Aang began to freeze the wall itself into a solid block of suspended ice, and she spread the white clouds as far under the fleet as she could.

It'll be too dangerous to go under the wall with no visibility. They'll have to go around it. And Zuko and Sokka will be waiting for them.

A grin spread across her face as the front line squashed into the wall, crewman scrambling in suirprise and those in the second line desperately switching to front propulsion to avoid a similar fate. The domino effect was apparent, up through the first twenty lines of what little formation was left, each desperately trying not to crash into the one before it. To no avail. Even if they were moving slow, wind-driven momentum was not an easy thing to overcome in a precious few seconds.

And nobody expects a five-foot thick wall of ice in the middle of the sky.

And that was only the beginning. She grinned, waiting just a couple seconds more before squaring her hands and shoving her arms forward.

A sharp sound of rushing air and ripping fabric answered as a line of diamond-shaped spikes jutted from the wall foour lines deep, piercing the balloons smashed up against it and tearing the tops of them as they deflated on the spike's razor-sharp spine. The weight of the basket and crew and equipment did the rest, as the entire first four lines drifted to the ground far below.

She swept past Zuko, trading glances as the remaining lines stabilized themselves and the flanks began to break off around the barrier. His eyes narrowed in understanding, blazing twin fire whips back into his hands and turning back to the fray.

She let out a sigh of relief to counter her sinking heart as he met the outflow. He was only one. No way was it going to be enough. But for now, it was all they could do to buy the city and their friends on the ground more time.

****

Night had fallen. It was both a blessing and a curse, for while it provided him and his friends with cover and put a natural damper on the enemy's bending ability, it was also dark, which made aiming harder and did not grant any bending advantage to those who lacked the gift.

Such as himself.

All he had were some crude but serviceable weapons that he'd fashioned on board the stol-- commandeered, he corrected himself -- corvette. A boomerang that he knew for a fact could never replace the one lying in a Dai Li prison inventory somewhere, a machete that somewhat resembled his old one, and a collection of daggers that were really just tiny metal throwing shards sharpened to a nice, hair-splitting edge.

But it was still him against the entire left flank. For the first time since he'd finished the gliders, he felt the same weight on his heart that his sister and Zuko no doubt were wrestling with. He coasted in close to an incoming craft, lashing out at the top of the canopy where he knew the greatest pressure was built. A roar of hot wind greeted him, and he used it as a convenient thermal to speed away from the rapidly descending craft.

One down. Eight hundred more to go.

He couldn't think about that. If he did, he'd be far too tempted to land his glider and go scurrying into the nearest tunnel for cover. All he could allow himself to concentrate on was how to do as much damage as possible in the shortest time.

He glanced over to the right flank that Zuko was tearing into, fire whips blazing against the night sky as he decimated balloon after balloon, leaving them to drift back to the ground in an eerie rain. If he had one of his own, not even a fire whip, just a regular one with something sharp on the end...

He looked down at the wrappings on his arms. He had plenty of daggers left. It wouldn't take much.

With a flurry of movement he unwrapped one arm, twisting the strip of cloth to thread into the storage loops on the knives and quickly knotting each one in place along the length of it. Until he had a long, crudely fashioned whip bristling with sharp edges.

He swung back around with a yell, flinging the weapon hard at another balloon and letting the tail of it coast into the canopy of its flank. The fabric tore like a cheap tent, the frame shuddering with the force of the blow. Relief flooded him as they both went down easily, that confident grin returning. This was it. He had the advantage once again.

Now it was just a matter of staying alive long enough to use it.

He straightened his legs, banking and diving to avoid fresh fireblasts while tearing into craft after craft. It didn't matter if they went down immediately. If they were too preoccupied with surviving an impending crash to make themselves useful in combat, he considered it a success. And there were a lot of successes to be had when he was wielding the equivalent of a five-foot-long serrated knife.

But even still, he was just one guy. And that became increasingly evident as more of the flank broke off from the main formation. Instead of handling two in a line, he was facing three and four. And at least one was getting past him every turn. Overwhelming his effort with sheer numbers. As he knew they would eventually.

A look back at the city wall confirmed his dread. Less than four miles away. And on the edge of his vision, the right flank had adapted the same idea and Zuko himself wasn't faring much better. All they'd done was postpone the inevitable.

Even if we fail, at least we tried...

He took out a third balloon with the next crack of his whip, feeling a damnable prickling at the corners of his eyes. He'd convinced his friends to go flying headlong into certain death all for a city that was going to be utterly destroyed no matter what they did. They were going to have to abort the mission soon and take cover regardless. They'd tried, all right. It just wasn't enough. Zuko was right vand dammit, he should've know better.

There is no try.

Only success or failure, and he knew it. It didn't matter that just the four of them had managed to chop the fleet down by four hundred units. Or that his friends were pulling off some of the most powerful bending the world had ever witnessed. They still failed and people were going to die.

He could only hope they'd forgive him back on the ground.

****

"We can keep the tunnels open until the bombs actually start dropping in that area," Shen murmured, sighing wearily. "We at least have to keep an entrance open for the Avatar to come back to."

Jin frowned, turning to Iroh. "Do you think he'll have the sense to drop the mission before it's too late?"

The old man nodded as they made their way to the nearest city entrance. "He's young, yes. And while he may be brash with his own life, he is loath to endanger the lives of his loved ones as readily. He'll abort for their sake before his own."

"The survivor count is about four hundred fifty," Lao spoke up. "That's barely a fraction of the quadrant, nevermind the whole city. But those are the only ones who would listen."

"And supplies?" Jin asked.

"We have enough to last a couple of weeks down here. Which should be enough if all the fleet intends to do is bomb everything to pieces up there. We'll be vented by the exit tunnels outside the city, which we can use to get out once everything is clear."

"Good, good," Shen said, seeming to relax somewhat. "You and I will head to the entrance to warn more people as long as we can." He turned to Jin. "You head back to Central Camp with Master Iroh. There are going to be a lot of scared people down there." She nodded, turning to make her way back down the tunnel as they parted, Iroh following her with a blazing palm to light their way.

"How is your ankle?" he asked.

"It doesn't hurt as much," she grunted, shifting her weight more on the walking stick. "I should be able to walk on it normally in a day or two."

"The Avatar has a skilled healer of the Water Tribe among his friends. When they come back, I'm sure she could help you."

"I'd be very grateful," she said, stopping to rest on the wall for a moment.

He smiled. "I never thanked you for taking my nephew on that night out."

She blinked at him. "You're kidding. That was just a cover, wasn't it? So he wouldn't suspect?"

"For the most part. But he did enjoy himself, and he hasn't had an opportunity like that in a very long time."

A red blush dusted her cheeks, and she averted her eyes down the tunnel. "I'm glad for that. He's a nice boy. He's just..."

"...Clueless?" Iroh offered.

She nodded, unable to help a smile as she pushed off the wall. "Not quite the right word, but I think it comes close enough."

It was then that they heard it. The faintest sound of roaring air and crumbling stone, and a moment later a strong tremor shook the earth above their heads and beneath their feet. Iroh caught her arm as she fought to keep her already precarious footing, and her heart sank utterly with the realization of what had made that sound.

"It's starting," he said. "Come on."

She nodded, using his shoulder for support as she hobbled as quickly as she could toward the camp.


TO BE CONCLUDED...

Back to Summary Page