No matter how hard I tried, losses were inevitable. Fatigue kept piling up, and mistakes grew more dangerous. After all, it wasn't just the "major" engagements—there were "minor" ones too. Not all of them even escalated into close combat; sometimes a few volleys from catapults and ballistae were enough to send a poorly organized enemy to feed the fish. But that didn't make the strain or stress any lighter—it just turned into something… routine.
"Captain Chan? Captain!"
Ah—someone made it through. Right. Petty Officer Yen.
"Yes?" I turned to him, weary.
"The enemy's been wiped out!"
"Good. Our losses?"
"Fifteen. Seven dead. The rest require medical attention, but they'll be able to return to duty."
There it was. Seven more gone. And when those eight wounded would be fit for duty again? Who knew.
"Good work, Petty Officer. Begin searching the ships. If you find any surviving officers—take them for interrogation. The rest—finish them off."
"Aye, Captain."
The sailor hurried off, and I pushed myself to my feet and made my way back to the cruiser. The losses were low—but they were still losses.
My benders could burn one or two enemy ships on approach (so long as they weren't our own ironclads), but after that, it always came down to boarding and close-quarters fighting. Of course, firebending still mattered there. A properly raised Fire Wall could not only ignite the enemy ship but also cut off entire avenues of attack.
If only it could be maintained indefinitely—but no such luck. And we didn't have the strength to seal everything off with a ring of fire, either.
So gaps remained in the walls, and through those gaps, boarders surged—from both sides. That's where the experienced fighters held the line, making life extremely unpleasant for the enemy.
And me?
I "had my fun," as much as circumstances allowed. This time, I even managed to slip ahead unnoticed and single-handedly finish off the remnants of the last ship's crew while the rest were still engaged with my men.
Once aboard, I headed straight for our medic. Just because nothing hurt didn't mean nothing was wrong. I'd only realized my eyebrow had been split nearly to the bone because blood was running into my eye—and even then, I'd first assumed I was just splattered with it.
Battle tension was one hell of an anesthetic.
"Any injuries, Captain?" the ship's doctor greeted me and immediately started his examination—just in case the patient actually felt something; it could save a fair bit of time.
"Just tired. This constant string of battles is exhausting."
"Quite right, sir. Not every formation sees as much action in a year as you've sent to the bottom in a month. If you'll permit me, I'd recommend a short period of rest—and we could certainly use some reinforcements and resupply. Hm… I don't see anything. The only prescription I can give you is a proper meal and a good night's sleep."
"Not a bad prescription. A bit of rest wouldn't hurt… but the Fire Nation Archipelago is a long way off, and we've drifted well clear of the colonies. We've basically been cruising in enemy waters for a week now. Wouldn't want them to send a proper fleet after us."
"With all due respect, I don't think you've angered them that much yet, Captain—not enough to pull an entire fleet off guarding the approaches to Ba Sing Se just to hunt you down."
"Oh?" I raised a brow—and immediately winced at the jab of pain. "Something to work on, then."
"Planning to replace an entire fleet all by yourself?" Tandaо cut in on our little exchange with the doctor (not that it mattered—I was the last one he had left; the others had either been sent off to rest or packed away in the cold room). Over the past month, we'd become good comrades—maybe even friends.
"What? A one-man army sounds impressive," I said with a faint grin. Commander Shepard would definitely approve. "You've got to think big!"
"You know, before I met you, I never would've believed one man with a single ship could stand in for an entire fleet formation at a commander's level of responsibility," the sailor said, shaking his head. "But we've already met the yearly quota for enemy ships destroyed. At this rate, hitting the fleet's annual target in half a year won't be difficult."
"No, no—this 'replacing a fleet' nonsense has gone far enough," the doctor cut in, clearly exasperated. "Let me remind you, gentlemen: half our personnel are wounded. Most of them only have minor injuries—cuts, burns—but in a prolonged engagement, even those can prove fatal! Four of today's seven dead were already injured in the previous battle! And we were lucky this time—the enemy was on wooden ships, and their training left much to be desired. Next time, we may not be so fortunate. So with all due respect, I strongly recommend avoiding unnecessary provocation of the Earth Kingdom and falling back closer to our own waters—or at least neutral territory!"
There he went again, singing the same tune.
For all the strict hierarchy and respect for rank ingrained in the Fire Nation—and despite the fact that I was a damn Fire Herald—the ship's doctor repeated the same refrain over and over, nagging at me like a particularly ill-tempered wife.