At the cost of five sailors suffering injuries incompatible with life, five firebenders burning themselves out almost completely, and three more holes punched through the hull, chief engineer Vasin managed to force the ship into acceleration and ram the lead vessel of our enemies.
Very angry soldiers — and equally angry Kyoshi warriors — surged into the boarding assault. The problem was that forty earthbenders were still forty earthbenders. If the agile girls could still drop flat onto the deck, leap aside, or evade the next piece of gravel, stone, or boulder, then the fire soldiers had to pay generously in blood for every step forward. Even the slaughter Suki and I unleashed in the enemy rear ranks didn't help all that much.
Over the previous three months, we had lost only five soldiers and one warrior maiden who failed to notice a pebble flying toward her temple. In this single battle alone, seventeen men and four girls had gone to the Eternal Hunting Grounds. We might have won, but there wasn't even a trace of joy to be found—only exhaustion and a dull, heavy grief.
"Don't blame yourself. None of this is your fault."
After washing up and letting the doctor look us over, Suki and I headed to my cabin, where I silently opened a drawer and began pouring wine into glasses. The fallen had to be remembered. And besides…
I was used to killing and death. Everyone dies eventually. A soldier's death is predictable, you could even call it logical. The problem was that I had never fully managed to see the Kyoshi girls as soldiers. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't completely reconcile the image of a warrior — a killer, essentially — with that of a cheerful girl gossiping with her friends or shamelessly flirting with one of the sailors. Even if that same girl had already sent a couple dozen men to meet their ancestors.
Intellectually, I understood it perfectly.
Emotionally? Not so much.
I simply couldn't see them the same way I saw the men.
And I wasn't the only one. The entire crew watched over and protected the warriors almost instinctively, driven by nothing more than plain male instinct.
"I know," I admitted, "but that doesn't make it much easier. If I hadn't dragged you all into this, you would've gone on living peacefully on your island, and Sayaki, Aira, Saki, Kalisi, and Vilsa would've gotten married instead of rotting in graves."
Yes, losses were normal in war. Unavoidable. But the deaths of women and children — pointless, senseless deaths— were something that had to be avoided at all costs. The future belonged to them. One man could father children with ten women, which meant that even if only one man out of ten survived, cynical as it sounded, the damage wouldn't be catastrophic.
"And the war would've come to us eventually," Suki replied. "Maybe a year later. Maybe two or five. But the price would've been far worse."
She picked up her glass and settled onto my lap. She'd changed over that time, without a doubt—become more feminine and even more beautiful. . She had enough resolve for ten people, yet at the same time she'd gained the experience and caution of a beast that had survived too many hunts and… something else. Some kind of wisdom, maybe. A philosophical calm I sometimes felt I lacked myself.
Probably the result of her upbringing.
We sat together for a while longer, but both of us still had countless responsibilities waiting. Unfortunately, time kept moving.
"I should go," the girl finally said, rising from her comfortable spot.
"Yeah. Shame, though."
"Nothing we can do about it. But…" A meaningful smile appeared on her lips. "I think we can make up for it tonight."
The beauty kissed me and slipped out of the cabin.
"I'll be waiting," I snorted out of habit and sat back down at the maps and the first damage reports.
Yeah, there'd been a battle. Yeah, there'd been losses. But life kept moving forward, and there simply wasn't time to stop and dwell on things. Besides, a beautiful girl in your bed was a damn good way to restore one's shaken faith in the future. Heh.
***
The next morning.
I listened to chief engineer Vasin's report and wanted to start swearing. Loudly, creatively, and for a very long time.
So, that brief "overdrive" maneuver, aside from completely draining the five firebenders powering it, had also overheated the boiler far too quickly, increasing wear and tear. But that part was minor — ten minutes operating in that mode shouldn't have caused anything critical…
If one of those damned granite projectiles that punched through the hull hadn't also damaged the drainage pipe carrying spent steam back to the boiler after it condensed for reheating and another cycle. Either those bastards had gotten phenomenally lucky, or they knew exactly where and how to strike. Unfortunately, we wouldn't know which until we reached port. The workshop that had proven itself so reliable was now desperately needed for its intended purpose.
But back to the engine and the boiler. Thankfully, there'd been enough working fluid left for us to catch up to the enemy and ram them, but further operation was another matter entirely...
When "cold" water — barely fifty degrees or so — gets poured onto a boiler heated to seven hundred degrees, maybe more, the boiler tends to become very unhappy about it. Unhappy enough that boilers usually explode under those conditions.
How we got away with nothing worse than a cracked wall, only the Fire Spirits and Chief Engineer Vasin know. I strongly suspect the bastard secretly dabbles in metalbending, because I genuinely can't think of any other logical explanation.
(End of Chapter)
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