Promotions

Promotions

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I do not own Avatar: the Last Airbender, or any of the names or characters of the show. I merely control them for my own twisted pleasure from this point in the story on.

I don't own Hanae either. But I do own Sho.
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“Now that I’m finally Fire Lord, I can have that son-of-a-bitch Sho executed.”

Iroh watched as his nephew paced furiously from one end of the war room to the other. He sighed and smiled lazily. Zuko had the right idea, but his methods were a little coarse. “You can’t just have him killed, My Lord.”

Zuko ignored him. “Treason,” the young man mused, and stopped pacing. He turned to his uncle, wordlessly asking his opinion. “Treason’s a good excuse. Treason is an excellent excuse.”

“Now nephew,” Iroh said and walked up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I have a better idea; one that will be much more satisfying for all parties involved.”

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The brigmistress of the Red Rain studied the slip of parchment in her hand, and pushed her glasses up her nose.

“Well, well, well,” she said musically as she glanced sideways at the ship’s captain.

“Well well what?” Sho snapped. His temper had been slightly frayed as of late, since the coronation of Fire Lord Zuko. “What are you so smug about?”

“It appears I’ve been promoted.” A fearsome smile began to play across her lips as she turned to face him, the parchment still in her hand. “To Admiral.”

Sho hid his nervousness at the woman’s sudden smile – he’d never seen her smile before, and knowing Hanae, that smile meant trouble. Deep trouble. “Admiral?” He wouldn’t comment on their sudden equality in rank; such things would be rude.

“Admiral,” the smile turned to a vicious grin, “of the Navy.” Hanae regarded the parchment again and she turned it so Sho could see it. “Which, if I recall, is…two ranks above yours, Rear Admiral?”

“Let me see that!” Sho snarled, and snatched at the slip, only to have her hold it far above his head. Curse the woman’s freakish height.

“Hand-signed by Fire Lord Zuko himself.” Still grinning like a saber-toothed mooselion, she delicately folded the parchment and slipped it down the front of her uniform. Even he dared not go after it there. “Also, I have been invited to captain the Fire Lord’s personal flagship.”

Sho felt the blood drain from his face. The Fire Lord’s personal flagship? But that couldn’t be right. The Fire Lord’s personal flagship was the Red Rain. Lord Zuko had hand-chosen it in person just after his coronation.

Hanae took a step towards Sho, and leaned down so that they were almost nose-to-nose, grinning victoriously.
“Get off my ship.”

Now thoroughly unnerved, Sho took a step back, the railing of the bridge nudging him in the back. “But…we’re in the middle of the oc—“

“I don’t care.” Her murderous grin had spread to her voice. “I want you off my ship. Now, are you going to ready a longboat, or do I have to push you?”