Snippet #2580538

Sotaro and his scout made it to Fei Long within half an hour. Shimazu, the scout who had sent the hawk met them at the edge of town.

“We can commandeer the ferry, but there’s not much else left,” she said after Sotaro explained what had caused dozens of Fei Long’s garrison to flee.

“What about the ones left,” asked Sotaro. “Where do they get the things they’ll miss?”

Shimazu smiled smugly. She knew exactly what the Captain was asking.

This time of night, the underground black market was just getting warmed up. Within the hour, he had bread, coffee, and tobacco. Not enough to replace everything that was destroyed, but he was forced to put up his own money for this. Sotaro did, however, also find something unexpectedly useful – one pirate was selling small pouches of explosive powder. Light the fibers sticking out of the top, throw the thing, and it causes an explosion, he had said.

“Fake firebending,” the pirate had promoted. “Great for distraction and mayhem.”

“Yes,” mused Sotaro, allowing the powder to run through his hand back into its crate. It had a dry, acrid smell. “I’ll take ten of those pouches.”

“Do you two still have your hawks,” he asked the two scouts. Each one usually carried two to send and receive messages.

“Yes, sir,” they said in unison.

“Good,” Sotaro smiled. “We’re going to need them.”

* * * * * * *

Sotaro rode behind one of the scouts on the return trip to the camp. He strongly suspected that they had not seen the last of their assailants, but had to trust Jian Hong to handle them until his return. Unless they had not yet made their move . . .
Before Sotaro could finish his thought, the eel hound beneath him growled and lurched violently to the side. An arrow stuck out of the upper portion of its hind leg, and it shook in an attempt to free itself from the annoyance. The scout managed to hold on, but only barely. Sotaro was thrown off and just missed getting whacked by its powerful tail.

He rolled to the side and sent a burst of flame around a perimeter about 10 feet before them. The fire hit the ground before a line of trees grew into thicker woodland. It burned for a few moments before dying out. It was long enough for Sotaro to catch a glimpse of earth green uniforms retreating.

The scouts drew their own bows. Though not as trained as specialized archery units, they were good enough to kill with the first shot.

“Come on, fellas, try again,” taunted Sotaro as he motioned for the scouts to use poison. Starting a forest fire with flaming arrows was not a preferable tactic now. “We’re not that hard to miss.”

These archers must have been confident to shoot at night without a full moon.

A second arrow came from the opposite side. It whistled past his right ear. One of the scouts shot his poisoned arrow back in the same direction. This was followed by a soft grunt and the rustle of trees and branches.

As the arrow flew, Sotaro shot another burst of flame just short of the brush. The second scout, his arrow already drawn, shot at the back of a retreating uniform. One of the eel hounds shot forward in the direction where the militia was hiding. The scout gripped Sotaro’s hand and helped him swing up on the animal’s back.

The large creature crashed through the undergrowth, groweling and biting at anyone on the ground. Sotaro finished them with short firebursts.

* * * * * * *

Sotaro stopped in his tracks when he returned to the makeshift camp. He dropped from the back of the eel hound and assessed the destruction. One tank destroyed, his medics killed, and more injured.

“Load the supplies,” Sotaro commanded the scouts. “Get the trebuchet unit to help. The quartermaster can distribute them. Then get your hawks and meet me back here.”

“Keep the torches going,” Sotaro commanded the quartermaster as he passed. The disorienting and blinding light from the reflectors would deter any other ranged attacks, and keep shadows within the camp at a minimum. Less places to hide that way.

“Give everyone the coffee and tobacco rations. When I get back, we’re going to Fei Long. We’ll make it by sunrise. Extra grog when we get there.”

Sotaro approached made it to the outside perimeter of the camp and saw his second im command. He approached Jian. He had pulled himself against one of the boulders that had run rampant through the camp. Blood ran around his hand from a wound he was desperately trying to keep as closed as possible as he breathed heavily. More pooled around him from other wounds.

Sotaro thought he might have seen darker shadows moving against the darkness beyond the camp, but couldn’t be completely sure. He crouched beside his second in command, someone he had come to consider as much friend as colleague.

“Jian, can you walk,” Sotaro asked as he made to lift his lieutenant and help him into camp. He hated not having anything to tie around that injury. Jian would have to keep holding.

“Captain,” Jian breathed. “Sotaro. I’m sorry -"

“Shut up,” interrupted Sotaro. There was no malice in the phrase. He was upset, yes, but not at Jian.

“Their second is also dead. The smaller one with long hair – the one in charge. He . ..”

Those were Jian’s last words. He died before Sotaro could get him off the ground.

* * * * * * *

Explosive pouches in hand, Sotaro led his scouts and a handful of regular soldiers outside of camp. Experience told him that they were most likely camped by the river. His team had no benders – clearly, the militia singled them during the last attack, and rendered their abilities useless.

“They won’t expect a night attack,” Sotaro explained. “We’ll use these explosives to distract them and move in.”

Clouds had covered the half moon by the time the Fire Nation team came within earshot of the river. Sotaro silently motioned for them to stop, listening for anything beyond the gentle rush of water. He could tell his men were uncomfortable carrying out such a mission in the dead of night, knew they were tired, and shared in their feelings entirely. Yet it was necessary to get this guerrilla group off their backs if they expected to get to Omashu in one piece

Aside from the river, the night was still. He could just make out the sound of movement and voices. Sotaro led his team towards it. Once they reached the outskirts of the camp, they crouched in the shadows. Sotaro recognized the man who had thrown the paralyzed pikeman at him to break his flame. The same one Jian identified as the leader. His jaw clenched as he stopped himself from burning the man to cinders when he recognized his own blade. Presumably the same one that had killed his lieutenant.
Sotaro turned to his scouts and nodded. They gave their hawks two explosive bags each, and Sotaro set the tips of the short, fibrous ropes alight. The birds took off on command. They flew just outside of the light of the campfire, and released their loads at various positions around the opposite perimeter of the camp. The explosions were clearly visible in the deep darkness, looking for all the world like something a firebender might produce. Fake firebending – go figure.

Taking advantage of the confusion this caused, Sotaro’s soldiers stepped behind the Shadow Palms and surrounded them, swords drawn. Sotaro had taken a shortsword for himself back at camp. Although only moderately adept at using it, Sotaro knew that his bending should only be used as a last resort in this case. As his men rushed forward, Sotaro grabbed the nearest militia guard from behind and slit his throat with the blade.