The one she found most interesting, and most informative as
well, was the Wedge Defense Force museum, which was located on the
campus of the WDF Academy, and which she visited on Thursday afternoon.
Korra had only a passing interest in military technology or history in
themselves, but since the WDF had shaped much of Zetan culture, and it
was Zetan culture and its attitude toward the present galaxy she was
mainly interested in, it was still a valuable experience.
        In the end, though, the thing she came away thinking the most
about wasn't in the museum itself, but in the rotunda of the Academy's
administration building, where she'd found herself at the end of the
museum's self-guided audio tour.  Among the various artworks and whatnot
on display here, there was a large bronze plaque affixed to the wall.
Upon entering the room, Korra had taken it for the usual kind of thing
one found in buildings like this, with the date of the dedication
ceremony and a list of the people who had funded its construction or the
like; but that didn't account for the little crowd of uniformed cadets
standing there regarding it with deeply thoughtful expressions.
        Intrigued, she joined them, working her way to the front as
those ahead of her got their fill of contemplating the plaque and
drifted away.  She noticed that, as each cadet took his, her, or its
leave, they all reached and touched the lower left corner; already, in
the seven years this version of the Academy had been open, this had been
done enough that the spot was worn shiny and smooth.
        Embossed on the plaque in large, authoritative letters were four
sentences and an attribution:
    We do not fight because we hate, nor because we wish to control.
                 We do not kill for killing's own sake.
   We fight because we love - love life, love freedom, love decency.
We kill so that others may live, free from oppression, terror, and pain.
                - Miria Fallyna Sterling, Class of 2001
        Korra got out her little notebook and wrote down the message,
then put it away and stood regarding the plaque for several minutes.  At
length, she went away to think it over in solitude, if such a word could
be applied to anyone at large in a city like this one.  Solitude within
her own mind, anyway, as she moved alone among shoals of strangers,
brushing gently against the ebb and flow of New Avalon's pleasantly
unfamiliar energies.
        She went back downtown and just walked around for a while as
afternoon slid toward evening, mulling the words over in her mind.
Later, while waiting for her dinner in a corner booth of a restaurant
near her hotel called the Star of Kumbaria, she found herself jotting
them repeatedly on another page of her notebook.  By the time she
noticed consciously that she was doing it, she'd translated the message
into Tukisi, then Tongyu, condensing the text slightly and drawing the
characters meticulously in different arrangements, as if designing a
tattoo.
        She supposed, as her soup arrived and she put the notebook away,
that that was fitting.  In 120 years of living, Korra had never felt
sufficiently motivated to get any ink done, but if she ever did, it'd
have to be something as meaningful as that, and the words of Miria
Sterling - whoever she had been - resonated with her more strongly than
anything else she had encountered in this city so far.  In fact, the
more she thought about it as she ate her supper, the more she decided
that if she had to summarize her own personal code in a few sentences,
she wouldn't be able to do any better than that.
        That was promising, if it was meant sincerely, and so far she
had the distinct impression that it was.  Promising enough that she
could feel good about devoting the time and energy required to
investigate further.

--G.
-><-
Benjamin D. Hutchins, Co-Founder, Editor-in-Chief, & Forum Mod
Eyrie Productions, Unlimited http://www.eyrie-productions.com/
zgryphon at that email service Google has
Ceterum censeo Carthaginem esse delendam.