If you hunt, think like the prey. And if you're the prey—do the same.
—from a hunter's reflections
***
The new morning greeted me with a pounding headache and a general state of "not quite up for it" (cut the dirty jokes!). When I asked myself, "So what the hell happened yesterday?" my memory, after a bit of stubborn resistance, dumped the full report on me—and I grabbed my head all over again.
No, that's it. I'm done with drinking. Not only am I slowly turning into an alcoholic, but I might also blurt out something I shouldn't and get myself killed.
Good thing my old man took the whole "floating brothel" rant as nothing more than the emotional outburst of an overstressed, slightly drunk kid. As for the princess—I barely managed to cover that one, dredging up the memory of that northern girl. Because if I'd drunkenly let slip that I was planning to seduce Azula? My father might've let it slide—but who knows who else might've heard. And then try explaining to an interrogator that you just ran your mouth while drunk and didn't actually mean it.
Nope. That's it. From now on—Healthy Lifestyle! Nothing stronger than kvass… and beer… and wine… but in moderation, right!
"Okay, first—bathroom. Everything else later… I wonder, is it becoming a tradition that every new milestone in my life starts with a hangover?"
By the time I made it to the washroom, I dropped out of existence for a good twenty minutes.
After more or less pulling myself together, I stepped back into my room. Alright—traces of last night's drinking had already been cleaned up. A bottle of some invigorating infusion sat on the table, and a fresh set of clothes lay on the bed.
Nice. Get dressed and move out. I'm sure the esteemed admiral will find a few minutes—and a few choice words—for me.
Father was waiting in his office, already buried under a stack of papers.
"Good morning," I said, adjusting the sword fastened at my belt as I dropped onto the guest sofa.
"It's nearly noon," he replied, finishing off another document before looking up. "Alive?"
"In parts. It'll pass. About yesterday…"
"It's fine. I understand. The weight of the news—and the wine—temporarily shook your composure."
"Ahem… Yes, something like that. Thank you. But what am I supposed to do now? I've been removed from the chain of command. I understand who I'll be taking orders from—but where do I get personnel? Supplies? What am I even supposed to be doing?"
"Oh, right, almost forgot," the admiral said, feigning sudden realization. "A messenger from Lord Ozai came for you. Here—your orders."
He handed me a sealed tube bearing the Fire Lord's personal mark.
"As for everything else… you'll be able to recruit and provision your forces yourself. There are no real restrictions on your funding—but still… try to stay within reason. For now, graduates from officer and navigation schools will consider it an honor to serve under the Fire Herald himself." Seeing that I wasn't exactly thrilled, he added, softening the blow, "And a few veterans from my fleet, after hearing Tandaо's recommendation, have expressed interest in joining you."
"Now that is actually helpful, thank you. A cruiser should have at least some experienced hands besides the first officer, navigator, chief engineer, and medic. Four veterans for a hundred greenhorns might work for patrolling relatively calm waters—but for what I'm about to face… Actually, what am I about to face?"
I opened the tube and began reading the Fire Lord's orders.
"Ahem… well now. Huh"
"And? Or is that classified?"
"Well, technically it is. But I trust you, Admiral—and there's no explicit prohibition on sharing it." I handed him the scroll.
"Thank you for your trust, Herald," my father replied with complete seriousness, already scanning the contents. "Hm? A reconnaissance-sabotage mission? Across the entire western and southern waters of the Earth Kingdom?"
"Yeah. On a cruiser. With a personal pennant."
I didn't even bother swearing anymore—I'd spent all my emotions yesterday.
"Why not just give me a battleship with full escort and a landing force while we're at it? That would be real sabotage—show up, deploy a couple thousand soldiers and a few hundred firebenders, occupy a region or two, and call it a day. And best of all, it wouldn't be much more subtle than what I'm about to do with a cruiser. Well… since I don't have a personal battleship, I'll work with what I've got." I smirked.
"Mm-hmm. It says here you've got a week to prepare. I'd advise you to go to the chancery and submit a request to Eastern Command for reinforcements—and you'll need to design and have your personal crest approved. I'll issue orders to ensure you get maximum support and have some experienced fighters assigned to you."
"You're right. Not much time—and they'll take a while to process the request…"
"For the Fire Herald?" He snorted. "Believe me, those paper-pushers will start running like the Fire Lord himself is breathing down their necks. Your position does come with certain… advantages."
"Well, that's something, at least. No point wasting time, then."
After saying my goodbyes to Admiral Chan, I headed for the palace—most of the chancery was located within the royal residence.
Father was right. Holding such an exalted title sped up the bureaucratic machine far more effectively than any "lubrication" in the form of gold coins discreetly passed to the right people. In just a couple of hours, all the necessary requests were sent where they needed to go, and a very polite official even asked if I required anything else.