Tandao dumped a jug of seawater over the earthbender's head.
The prisoner came to quickly, blinking as he tried to understand where he was—but a gentle blow to the liver forced his attention back to the XO… and his own body.
"Name. Rank. How did you find us?"
"Go to hell, you fire-spitting bastard!" the prisoner snarled—and spat in the sailor's face.
"Ah… it's always the same," the officer sighed sadly, pulling several thin bamboo splinters from an inner pocket of his uniform.
What followed remained in my memory as a blur of wet, sickening sounds, screams, hissing, the stench of scorched flesh, and the same questions repeated over and over, drilling straight into the skull.
The prisoner lasted half an hour.
After that, the whimpering, broken thing spilled everything it knew—everything it didn't know but guessed, and everything it hadn't even guessed but had heard in passing.
At least, that's what we thought at the time.
The only thing that somewhat comforted me in all of this was that dinner had been long over—and breakfast was still far away.
Though vomiting bile wasn't exactly pleasant either.
Yes, I threw up—and I'm not ashamed of it.
It's one thing in the heat of battle, when the tension is off the charts, to run an enemy through—or even carelessly spill his guts. You get used to that.
But this? Half an hour in a cramped, stifling room, surrounded by the smell of blood and shit, with those gut-wrenching screams…
Maybe you could get used to that too.
Judging by Tandao's completely expressionless face—you definitely could.
But getting used to something like that… yeah, no.
I shuddered again, and another wave rose up from my stomach.
"How are you holding up, Captain?" the executioner asked with concern.
"I will never look at meat the same way again…" I managed to croak out.
"Oh, if you can joke, then you're doing better than most. I remember my first time—I passed out about ten minutes in. You're tough. Made it to the end."
Huh… I suppose that was his way of trying to encourage me.
Too bad all it did was give me a burning urge to punch him in the face.
"I. Do. Not. Want. To. Discuss. This. And for the love of everything holy—shut him up already!"
The XO obediently knocked the groaning prisoner unconscious.
"What do we do next?" Tandao asked after giving me a moment to catch my breath.
In light of what we'd learned, it was a very good question.
"For starters, have the prisoner treated. Let our medic look him over—dress the burns, pull the splinters from under his nails… in short, make sure he survives until we reach port."
"Yes, Captain. And what about what he told us?"
We left the interrogation room as we spoke. Fresh sea air struck my flushed face, bringing noticeable relief. Even the faint scent of burned coal mixed into the breeze didn't make me want to sneeze anymore.
I drew in a deep breath.
Right. Wash up first—then think.
After doing so, I turned back to the patiently waiting XO.
"They were expecting us. They knew the patrol route, our numbers, where we'd anchor for the night… everything. There's a big, fat rat somewhere in the Admiralty. But we didn't get any details on who exactly is feeding them information."
"Not surprising," the veteran sailor shrugged. "No one tells the foot soldiers that kind of thing."
"And what would you do in my place, Tandao?" I asked, watching the distant shoreline.
"I'd send a hawk to headquarters and set course for base. We need to deliver the prisoners to command as soon as possible."
"Hm… Good idea. But…" I gave a humorless smirk. Funny—I couldn't remember the last time I'd actually smiled. These days it was all smirks and baring teeth. Then again, I hadn't exactly had many reasons to be happy.
"…we'll take a different approach."
"Captain Chan?" Confusion flickered across his face.
"This wasn't their first raid, nor the first ship they'd taken—though until now they hadn't had the nerve to go after new cruisers. And afterward, those ships tend to show up in the hands of 'pirates' and other… friends of ours."
"There has to be a base, or at least a staging point, where they hold and possibly repair captured vessels—not a mere 'camp,' as our mutual acquaintance claimed."
You can't just seize a ship and sail off into the open sea. At the very least, you need to make sure the previous crew didn't leave behind any "parting gifts." And a steel colossus isn't the same as a wooden sailing or rowing tub—handling it is entirely different from what Earth Kingdom sailors are used to. Which means they'd need a secluded place to learn the ropes, more or less, without drawing the attention of patrols.
Not to mention that coal supplies are limited and need to be replenished regularly—and the enemy doesn't have firebenders who could be used to power the engines in an emergency. A couple of deserters wouldn't make a difference.
All in all, logic suggested that these saboteurs must either be based at a site of interest—or at the very least know exactly where it was.
A second interrogation of the prisoner by a rather displeased XO, who had "thought we'd come to an understanding, my dear guest," yielded the coordinates of the base, as well as the information that only about seventy men and just two benders remained there.
I wasn't present for the second interrogation—it would have been a bit much for me that day.Be that as it may, we got the new intel.
We then questioned the second earthbender as well, just to be sure. Fortunately, he turned out to be far more cooperative—the sight of what had become of his colleague's body was a very effective incentive for honesty.
Since the base's coordinates and the estimated number of enemy personnel matched in both accounts, we could consider the information reasonably reliable.