loopy777: (Default)
[personal profile] loopy777
Rating: Teen
Beta: Lavanya Six. Without her, it would have been a much weaker tale.
Summary: After they met the Avatar, but before their leader Jet would encounter Zuko in Ba Sing Se, something happened to break the Freedom Fighters up and send them out into their world. This is the story of their last battle, and their last moments as friends.
Art: [info]victogt




Coming of the Fire Ogre

When Commander Oni arrived at the town of Gaipan, he found a disaster. Of course, that was exactly what he had been expecting.

The town itself was still cleaning up the damage from the terrorist attack. By this point, the debris had all been removed and the reconstruction had begun. Most of the more permanent buildings- owned by the colonists, of course- had stayed standing, but there were walls to repair, furniture to replace, and water marks to clean or paint over. The more transitional structures, like the merchant stands that had once narrowed the streets, all had to be rebuilt and replaced.

The main problem was not a lack of will to fix what the rebels had ruined, but a means by which to fund the work. More than a few households had lost everything they owned in the engineered flood, and carpenters couldn’t put food on the table through goodwill alone. In Oni’s estimation, based on the briefings that came with his latest orders, the town would suffer complete financial collapse within six months, and most of its denizens would leave in search of backbreaking labor work.

He’d be doing everyone a favor by putting the region out of its misery.

Oni led his group of subordinates straight to Gaipan’s local garrison. He ordered his troops to make camp on the riverside. They could always seize billeting in the town itself after he took formal command of the situation.

In short order, he was within the plain office of the garrison’s commander, decorated solely by a portrait of the Fire Lord. Oni had never been one for pleasantries, so after he had bowed in greeting he immediately handed over the scroll he had carried straight from the front. “Your orders, Commander Fei.”

Fei had been looking at a map of the entire Gaipan region spread out over a long table, marked with what looked like incomplete trails. He glanced back at it as he took and unfolded the scroll. “…Replace me? But I’ve made so much progress analyzing the terrorist attacks! We have them narrowed down to a Southeastern quadrant-“

“Well,” Oni interrupted, disgusted by the bewildered look on the other man’s mustachioed face, “I’m sure that information will be of use to me as I deal with this outlaw threat once and for all. Thank you for your service.”

Perhaps Fei had heard of Oni, which wouldn’t have been surprising, given his next question. “May I ask what is it you intend to do about the situation, Commander? I fail to see how we could be doing anything different here. I’m using all the recommended tactics for tracking down hidden rebel groups. I have scouts out there right now, narrowing down the possible locations of the enemy camp.”

Oni smiled pleasantly. “It was decided that a creative new strategy was in order, of a nature in which I happen to specialize. High command is tired of losing supplies in this region, and this latest act of terrorism has convinced them that a show of force would be the most appropriate action. The people have to learn what happens to those who think they escalate a fight with the Fire Army.”

“So, I repeat, what is it you’re going to do?”

“Burn down the entire forest.” Oni could feel his smile turn genuine and he would have had to admit that he was excited and enthusiastic about his job. Whatever some might think of his methods, he took real pride in using his unique intellectual gifts to their fullest. “Thanks to your efforts, though, we now know to focus a cordon on the Southeastern quadrant. Bodies aren’t really needed for this demonstration, and I’d prefer the rebels to die in the home they’ve worked so hard to conceal from us.”

Fei’s face wheeled through several expressions that finally ended with something like professional horror. “But what about the town? Their trading depends on the bounty of the forest…”

“Tell me, Commander, what’s the breakdown of Gaipon’s population? Fire Nation colonists versus natives?”

“We’ve never been quite sure. We never took a census.”

“Oh?” Oni turned to one of his subordinates, the one he always thought of as the Rice Counter. “Before we begin the formal evacuation, see what you can do about isolating anyone who can prove Fire Nation colonization rights. We’ll try to give them a bit of compensation before we cast them out.”

“Commander Oni,” Fei said, a touch of growl coloring his voice. “You know as well as I do that very few colonists in this region keep a hold of their official papers, never mind all that was lost in the recent attack! You’ll be ruining the lives of our people, right along with the Dirts.”

Oni spun to face the other commander, eyebrows scrunched together. “Such racism is not becoming of a professional soldier, Commander Fei. Kindly do not use that word in my presence again. Now, was there anything else before you make preparations for your departure? I believe they’ll soon be expecting you in the Hu Sin provinces.”

Fei was still for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was slow and even. “On the grounds of Honor, I must protest this treatment of the people whom it is my duty to administer and protect. I challenge you to an Agni Kai, Commander Oni.”

Oni bowed formally. “I understand, and your challenge is accepted. I feel it my duty to warn you, though, that I have fought and won twenty-three Agni Kai duels, all of them fatal.”




They decided that the match should be held on the opposite side of the river, where all of the assembled soldiers could see. Oni insisted on this point, just to make Fei angrier.

It wasn’t that he especially disliked Fei, or enjoyed making trouble, but Oni wanted this Agni Kai to be done right. Too often, losers of the duels were allowed to survive, either with a ceremonial injury or merely the loss of pride. Certainly, it made sense to let the losers live in a mostly functional capacity, so that they could continue to serve the Fire Nation. The problem was that Oni liked what he liked, and when so few things gave him any real pleasure, he was less inclined to deny himself what fun he could find.

Commander Oni enjoyed killing people.

It wasn’t a compulsion, and didn’t affect his life the way a sickness would. It was simply that he thrived on personal combat, on warfare, on the ultimate struggle to survive. Taking someone’s life in the course of the ardent fighting was the most basic and final victory. No matter the trappings of society, it was always possible to reach out and end a life.

Oni was very grateful that he had been born in a time of war. Killing was not only allowed, it was rewarded. Granted, some of the Generals disliked his methods, but there was no arguing his success rate in otherwise troublesome situations. High Command knew that when they needed something destroyed, they could count on Oni to get it done without fail, with no concerns besides the successful completion of his mission.

In war, concerns like protecting civilians, preserving resources, and fighting honorably just sometimes got in the way. Pushing through that was Oni’s specialty.

Fei would fight with the true anger that was the heart of all Firebending, and Oni would have no choice but to finish the duel in a fatal manner. He did not doubt that he would win; angry people made mistakes, and all the anger in the world couldn’t overcome a cool willingness to do anything to win.




Being a Freedom Fighter was pretty cool, but when you were the smallest Freedom Fighter, you did what you could to be useful. Like learning how to fight, despite being the same age and height as the orphans who did chores around the treehouse all day. Or becoming an expert at the use and deployment of Fire Nation explosive materials, despite not being able to read. Or knowing how to put on an innocent face, hide your helmet, and wander into town to see what the latest news is.

No one ever accused The Duke of being anything less than a real Freedom Fighter.

Jet had asked him to sneak into Gaipon, to see what kind of activity was going on at the garrison. That was simple enough. In the Time Before The Freedom Fighters, The Duke had been forced to survive by any means necessary, stealing what he needed from whomever had it. Being sneaky and invisible was the best method. The Duke found that his hair was dark enough, and his features neutral enough, that he could pass for either Fire Nation or Earth Kingdom. He didn’t wonder about how that could be, he just worked with it. People didn’t pay attention to a dirty little ragamuffin who looked like any number of orphans sleeping in the local streets, especially one so short. As long as he didn’t make a fuss, he was invisible.

The Duke wandered into the town of Gaipan, and followed the crowds.

The townspeople were clearly on their way to something; the masses were all moving in the same direction, and Jet would want to know where they were going. As he trotted along with the crowds, The Duke could see the leftover damage from the flood. The tallest buildings had water lines just beneath their roofs, and there were obvious empty gaps in the rows of buildings where something with less stable foundations had been swept away. Some homes no longer had doors, and the apartments within were almost always completely empty, save perhaps for a dirty blanket here and there.

Jet had said that the flood was the right thing to do. He had said that The Duke was really clever, to figure out how to place the explosives so that the dam could be destroyed in a group of simultaneous blasts. Jet had promised that it was something that had to be done, that the lives lost would be the price of defeating the evil Fire Nation once and for all.

But The Duke could see that some of the people around him were wearing green.

But Jet always kept his promises to The Duke.

The people were gathering at the town’s riverside wall. The entrance was clogged with dawdlers, so people were climbing the scaffolding around the patched section of the wall and perching atop it. Most of the more daring climbers were of obvious Fire Nation stock, but The Duke was used to high places, too. He scampered around and between adult legs, and scrambled up the scaffolding without appreciably slowing down.

Atop the wall, he could see a large group of Fire Nation soldiers assembled across the river. Two of them were shirtless, and standing at opposite ends of the clearing. Squinting, The Duke thought he recognized one of them as the local garrison commander, but he hadn’t seen the man enough times to be sure without the uniform. The young spy had no idea what all this was about until the half-naked men started Firebending at each other.

The Fire Nation people fought each other? That made sense. The Freedom Fighters always stuck together, and they were good, so if the Fire Nation was evil, they probably killed each other all the time.

It certainly looked like they were doing it now.

The two men were constantly in motion, their battle cries echoing all the way to the town as they sent whips and waves of fire at each other. What flames couldn’t be dodged were pushed aside with waving motions of arms and legs. Both men were putting a lot of effort into the fight, but even The Duke’s inexperienced eyes could tell that one was clearly superior. The mystery man, the one with no hair on his head or face, kept up a constant pace of movement, never retreated, and shifted from offense to defense with ease. As he closed the distance with his opponent, the garrison commander picked up the pace of his attacks without improving his effectiveness. The bald Firebender met a sustained blast of flame with one of his own, and the two streams of roiling fury converged in a fiery swirl. It came as no surprise to anyone, fighters or audience, when the fireball exploded.

The suddenness of the crack made The Duke jolt involuntarily, but he kept his balance on top of the wall.

Back in the arena, the unknown Firebender ducked low, withstood the billowing heated air of the blast, and dashed at the garrison commander. The latter settled his stance and tried to take a defensive posture, but before he was fully in place, his opponent was in arm’s reach.

The mystery man chopped his hand so fast that it looked like a blur to The Duke. The Firebender didn’t actually bother with fire for this blow; his stiffened hand swung horizontally and slammed into the garrison commander’s throat.

The match technically ended a long minute later, but it was that blow that finished the fighting. Immediately after he was struck, the loser collapsed to the ground, clawing at his throat, and began thrashing in the dirt. He must have been having trouble breathing. As time passed, his movements became more frantic.

The other man just watched, breathing heavily, his gaze fixated on his dying opponent.

Eventually, all movement ceased. Only then did the duel’s winner turn to look at his audience across the river. His shouting was unnaturally calm, and The Duke could hear his words clearly.

“I am Commander Oni of the Fire Army. This entire region, the forest and everything within it, has been declared an Enemy Stronghold. As soon as possible, we will be taking measures to eliminate the cowardly terrorists who tried to destroy your homes. For your safety, we will be evacuating you beyond the forest to make new lives as you can, beginning early tomorrow morning.

“Tomorrow, it will all burn.”

The Duke’s first thought was that this was definitely bad news. The second was that he had to let Jet know now.




It was never good when kids had to see something like a fatal Agni Kai, but something about the urchin’s fleeing triggered Private Duoxin’s suspicions. “Hey,” he said to a couple of the other Fire Nation swordsman working crowd control. “Let’s make sure the kid gets home safely.”

“It takes three of us to do that?” one of the others snorted.

“Well,” Duoxin drawled, “didn’t the briefings say that the convoys reported the terrorists looking like kids? Can’t hurt to check, you know?”

The trio secured their swords, and trotted after the child.




Two Freedom Fighters sat in the forest and talked. The larger of the two had dubbed himself Pipsqueak, and he leaned against the trunk of a giant tree. His smaller friend was known as Sneers, and sat cross-legged on a low branch. They had been sitting in silence for some time, but Pipsqueak eventually spoke, his voice so deep that it could have easily been the sound of a thousand Avatars growling at once, “Been a while since we had rain.”

Sneers shifted on his tree branch, to the sound of creaking leather and armor. His own voice was husky and wild, but soft in its own way, like the waving of leaves just before a storm. “Yes. Things are pretty dry. I worry about what mischief the Firebenders might be up to, in these conditions.”

“Aw,” Pipsqueak said, “now that you’ve said it, we’re definitely gonna have to fight some.” He lifted the heavy club at his side and began picking splinters off of it.

The other young man turned to quirk an eyebrow at his companion. “You don’t seriously believe that talking about something bad makes it happen. That type of stuff is for villagers.”

“All I know is I’ve seen a lot of bad things happen, and it doesn’t take much to get more bad stuff happening. Why risk talking about it?”

“Listen,” came the simultaneously amused and exasperated reply, “I can personally guarantee that we won’t fight any Firebenders today. Most of the guards around here aren’t Benders, and The Duke is good at getting in and out of town without being spotted. Everything will be okay.”

“Sure, easy for you to say now. You’ve already brought the bad luck down.” Satisfied that his club was once again smooth, Pipsqueak set it down within easy reach.

“My friend, if I have caused us any ill fortune today, I promise I will give you all my lychee nuts at dinner tonight.”

All of them?” The deep voice rose in hopefulness.

“All of them.”

“Well, that’s all right then.”

Sneers frowned. “You’ve been teasing me, haven’t you?”

“Maybe.”

Both were silent again for a little while, and then Pipsqueak spoke once more, his deep voice low and soft. “Hey, what is a leader supposed to do?”

Sneers gave him a wary glance. “Lead?”

“I mean, how? What’s a leader really supposed to do?”

The other sat quietly for a long time, turning that over in his head. “I believe a leader is like a guide through the woods. A leader offers a path, and helps navigate its dangers. It is the leader’s responsibility to deliver her charges at the destination, safe and whole.”

Pipsqueak smiled at that, but could not maintain the expression; a thoughtful frown pulled at his whole head. “So what path are the Freedom Fighters on?”

It was then that the relative silence of the forest was broken by a loud, frantic warble from a cockathree bird.

The bigger young man stood up. “That was him?”

The smaller one untangled his legs, and let himself slide to the ground. “Probably, but he was supposed to be using the sparrowkeet call.”

Then the screech of a scared little boy trying to sound like a scared eaglehawk pierced through the air.

“Let’s go,” Sneers decided. In an instant, both were dashing through the forest brush. By the time they arrived at the sound of the birdcalls, The Duke had breathlessly moved on to a robinjay’s warble as he ran for his life.

When he saw his friends, he changed direction towards and shouted, “Three stupid guys with swords followed me!”

“Hey!” called one of the swordsman, who were hacking their way through the brush as they chased the youngest Freedom Fighter. “Who are you calling stu… pid…” He trailed off as he laid eyes on The Duke’s backup.

Pipsqueak straightened his back, rising to his full height, and hefted the chopped tree trunk he used for a club. “You’re pretty stupid if you think I’m gonna let you hurt my friend.”




“This, children, is how I remember Pipsqueak: he was a mountain of muscle just barely shaped like a man, with a voice that could have shook the Earth if he ever felt the need to shout. He wore a single, massive disc of armor over his chest that was as big as I was tall at the time but still couldn’t fully cover him, and he left his powerful arms, machine-like in their strength, bare. He wore a piece of red headgear he stole from the Fire Nation, a training-guard that protected his temples, but it was not injury in battle that he feared. He was taller than most adults, and constantly had to beware doorways and branches that stood far taller than any other Freedom Fighter.

“He was our own gentle giant.

“As big as he was, everyone expected him to move slow, but nothing was further from the truth. His strength propelled his arms with the speed of a striking scorpion-snake. He could duel a swordsman with his club, and outdo his enemy every time. He didn’t run much, not more than was absolutely necessary, but when someone needed help, he never hesitated to act. For there are two types of big people in this world, the bullies and the protectors, and Pipsqueak lived to be a protector to all.

“He also had a good sense of humor. Just think of his name! He was fond of jokes on himself, and never failed to admit when he had been pranked. He loved committing pranks himself, both the big kind like waterskins placed above doorways and the small kinds like some teasing or a trap of words.

“He was quick to forgive any trespass, and didn’t even know how to hold a grudge. That made him far too trusting.”





Pipsqueak swung his club like a lumberjack swings an ax. That he naturally swung at what was head-height for most people made it especially scary. Two of the swordsmen raised their weapons reflexively; some primal portion of their brains perhaps expected the metal blades to somehow block or damage the wood, but if so, those brain nodes weren’t particularly good at physics. The pair of swords were ripped from the hands that held them, but they didn’t quite move fast enough. The weapons that landed in some distant bushes were curved to a degree that evoked a particular smoothed tree-trunk club.

Both soldiers ran like the Face-Stealer himself was after them, but it was too late. They tripped over a small The Duke-shaped bundle that was kneeling right behind them, which went on to steal their helmets and knock them on their heads before either soldier could figure out which way was supposed to be considered Up.

The third swordsman was already gone. Private Duoxin was the smartest of the trio, and as such had been able to quickly evaluate enemy capabilities as soon as Pipsqueak came into view. Duoxin had reviewed his own skill with the sword, as well as that of his two compatriots, and came up with a sound tactical decision. That the chosen strategy consisted entirely of running for his life did not make it any less viable or smart.

The only flaw in the plan was due to incomplete intelligence on the enemy. He had no idea that Sneers had followed his large friend into battle.




“This, children, is how I remember Sneers: he was not the quietest of the Freedom Fighters, nor the quickest, nor the cleverest, nor even the most versatile. He didn’t like to stand up when Jet was heaping praise on him at our dinners. He, more than anyone else, lived for his function. He wore many pieces of body armor, favored only dark natural colors, and even his captured Fire Nation trophy was a warm shawl that he could wrap around himself during the winters. He never cut his hair, but kept it bound in a knot that let it hang loosely just around his face. He never bothered learning a weapon, because he turned himself into a one. It didn’t matter if he was fighting Firebenders or Weapon Masters, he could defeat a group of them with his bare hands.

“Sneers was a man of the forest.

“He was the only Freedom Fighter who had been born in our forest. He lived there his whole life. He was the one who showed Jet the paths and the secret lairs. He was the one sleeping in a tree when everyone else camped on the ground. He picked the spot for the treehouse base, and strung up the ropes that connected everyone’s homes. Jet was our leader, and all the Freedom Fighters advised him as needed, but it was Sneers whose word he would always follow, because if the situation was so important that Sneers felt the need to make his opinion clear, he was talking with the voice of our home.

“I don’t know what his part was in the creation of Jet’s plan to flood the valley and kill everyone in it, but it was Sneers who would always carry new orphans up to the treehouse village for the first time.

“The Freedom Fighters seldom spoke of the histories that led to our taking up arms against the Fire Nation in that forest, and some never revealed their full past at all. Sneers’ past was all around us, and even though no one knew what had happened to his family or home, we could all sense the truth of it with every breath we took. The Fire Nation sought to control the forest, and Sneers could not be controlled.

“He was Nature, capable of both great gentleness and great harm.”





Duoxin brought himself to a skidding halt when some of the bark on a nearby tree detached itself and took the form of an armored teenager. Sneers held up a hand. “Stop. I cannot let you leave this place with news of our spy. Your best chance is to surrender, and give up the ways of your nation. Then we can discuss mercy.”

Duoxin didn’t quite like the sound of that, and besides, he had a sword while the boy was completely unarmed. As a well-considered rebuttal, he drew his weapon and made a stabbing charge at Sneers.

Sneers gracefully sidestepped at the last moment, grabbed his enemy’s wrist with one hand and twisted it, while his other hand seized Duoxin’s elbow and held it stationary. When the resulting pain came to a stop, Duoxin realized that he had compulsively dropped his sword. Still, the wild boy was nearby and not making any additional moves, so he added to his argument a very good hammer-fist aimed at the boy’s exposed face.

Sneers didn’t move, instead simply bringing his right hand up to backhand Duoxin’s fist out of the way, and then quickly shifted forward to turn his left hand into a spearhand blow right at the top of Duoxin’s throat. It wasn’t delivered with any great strength, but it was enough to set Duoxin choking and cause him to stumble back in his panic.

Sneers stayed with him.

Grabbing Duoxin by his chest armor, he easily flipped him overhead. Duoxin barely had time to lose all sense of direction and gravity before it loudly reasserted itself when his helmeted head slammed into the ground.

By the time he felt well enough to look around again, Sneers had been joined by Pipsqueak and The Duke. He nodded grimly and told his companions, “The soldier declined our mercy. I’ll finish with him.”




Around sundown, an officer interrupted Commander Oni on the garrison’s training grounds during one of his regular exercise bouts. “Sir, you asked to be informed of any irregularities. Several of the town’s standard guard patrol spotted a suspicious child in the crowd and followed him into the forest. They checked in right before they left, and haven’t been seen since. This was just after… uh, the Agni Kai. The one you… uh, won.”

Oni remained in his handstand, arms solid and unyielding. He was clad only in a pair of breeches, but the air of late winter did not have an affect on him. “Thank you. I don’t suppose there are any leads as to where they disappeared?”

“We only know where they entered the forest, sir.”

“Ah. Well, I wasn’t expecting much more than that. Please assemble my staff in the command room. We can assume that the rebels know of my plans, and we need to strategize accordingly.”

“Yes, sir. Will you be wanting to arrange a search for the soldiers?”

Oni frowned, and even upside-down, it did not look anything like a smile. “Of course not. Those soldiers checked in like they were supposed to, and now we have a good clue as to what the enemy knows about us. That is of far more value than their lives ever were. I have already begun operations that might be compromised by such a search.” He shifted his weight, and let gravity drag his feet back to the ground. Sweat evenly coated Oni’s bald head, shining dully in the light of the torches that were the courtyard’s only illumination as the sun fell away. “See to my staff. I will be joining them as soon as I am cleaned and dressed.”

The meeting went on long into the night. Oni outlined the broad strokes of his plan to general approval. Some of his subordinates had their own suggestions for simultaneous plots that might hasten their victory, including one farfetched plan from the Rice Counter that was more creative than plausible, and Oni gave his clearance to everything for which he could spare the resources.

He was a strong believer in overwhelming force.

TO BE CONTINUED
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