A/N: First Avatar fic. I would like to add that, as of publishing this chapter, I have only seen this movie once (though I did see it in 3D). So if anything conflicts with the movie or whatever and I don't give good reason for it to, please let me know. Enjoy!

Also, those who've read this chapter once already, I've taken reviews into account and changed some things and added others. Keep me posted with your questions, comments, concerns, etc.! :)


THIMBLES! And on with the fic…

Saran VD

Choices

Prologue

The year was 2163. As the times changed, technology did as well. Research of the Na'vi continued, and as it did, improvements were made to the avatar program as a whole.

One of the first big changes was that the technology now allowed a researcher to stay in his avatar's body overnight. No longer were they forced into returning to the human world because their avatar body needed a little sleep. The chaos caused by Jake Sully almost being bulldozed during the great war caused this technology to become a priority, for they all knew that the Marine would have died if he hadn't linked up in time. No one wanted to risk this happening again. On top of this, the technology used to link became smaller and faster, enclosing only the researcher's head.

The structure of the avatars also changed. Their prices went down (to about $50,000,000 US, which is still quite a few pennies), and they looked more and more like the Na'vi with every "generation." The avatars now only had four fingers instead of five, and their faces had the same cat-like nose and orb-shaped eyes as those of the Na'vi did.

Perhaps the most significant change was that the avatar bodies now changed as they would under the normal processes of aging. Days into weeks into years, the avatar bodies suffered the same way those of the Na'vi did.

Norm Spellman, who was in charge of the avatar program since Grace's death, was faced with a dilemma he'd never thought that he'd have to face. Norm considered himself peaceful, rational, calm. He had proven himself to be this way, too, until he met Noa.

Noa Amato was one of the few scientists who stayed behind after the wars of 2154. She had been a simple lab technician at the time, the type who would quietly sit back and study her superiors, learning the ropes through observation. After the wars were ended, she received her official avatar training from Norm.

It took three years of training, plus six months of working together, for Norm and Noa to realize their feelings towards each other. Once they did, however, there was no turning back, no changing things, no letting them go for the sake of the mission.

No. At this point, the pair was just a pair of humans in the midst of a strangely beautiful alien planet, and they grasped each other as if they were lifelines.

Norm had thought that being in his avatar form was the greatest form of ecstasy, but that quickly was corrected when he made love to Noa for the first time. Finally, Norm felt that he connected with something, something more than cell bio and history and samples. This was deeper than that. Norm was never going to let it go.

This joy was merely increased tenfold when he learned that Noa was expecting a child. The first human child born on Pandora, he knew. Many of his colleagues saw "the little Spellman" as nothing more than a great experimental subject, but Norm would have none of that himself. This was his child. He wouldn't ever abandon him (or her) as long as he didn't have to.

However, Pandora is rough on the human body. The little Spellman was born a month too early, and Noa didn't survive the ordeal at all. Only thanks to the constant care of the scientists did the infant pull through alive.

Norm felt as if his world was shattered, as if things had been ruined more thoroughly than they had ever been ruined before. The woman he loved had died. It was over. There was nothing left to live for. Norm quickly lost interest in everything but his work, which he threw himself into with a fervor that was almost horrifying.

Even when Norm was presented with his daughter, a little miracle that the scientists had collectively named Kala, he was disinterested and distracted.

When Kala was a (very mature) six-month-old, Norm was hit by what he called "a stroke of brilliance." He took some of Kala's DNA and sent it off to the Pandoran lab that was in charge of creating the avatars. "Make me an avatar," he told them in a crisp, business-like tone, "and make her young." When asked how young, he said, "Take the time it takes you to make this thing and add 6 months. Puzzled, the scientists obliged.

After three years, two months, and four days, the new avatar was ready. Norm stared, unable to help himself. The thing was obviously young, and for a moment he almost called the mission off altogether. It made his eyes tear, imagining the little creature exposed to the harshness of Pandora.

However, Norm had invested too much time training a baby (a rather intelligent baby, but a baby nonetheless) and money in the avatar itself to back out now. He leaned over a now three year, eight month, and four day old Kala. With her coffee-colored skin and her big brown eyes, she already looked too much like Noa for Norm to be able to bear.

"Kala," he said to the girl. "You ready to go on another adventure?"

Kala, who knew "adventure" to mean "simulation of a link," nodded eagerly. Like her father, she had a stabbing desire to learn things, despite her young age.

"Now, you know that we'll let this one go on as long as you want," Norm said, but he knew that this was a lie.

The truth of the matter was that this was a link that wouldn't be ending any time in the foreseeable future. Kala was, despite what Norm had originally planned for her, just the latest in a long line of experiments. The link would allow the scientists to track her for the years that she spent growing up as one of the Na'vi, discovering more about their culture than they had ever been able to learn through an adult.

Norm felt as if he was fighting a losing battle as his heart raged with his head. He knew that this is the discoveries made in this experiment would persuade the government to send them more funds, which they desperately needed in order to continue their research.

However, a part of him was having a hard time sending this child- Noa's child- out into the bush without someone to protect her. Granted, little Kala had scored high on all of the awareness and fight-or-flight tests, showing that she could actually keep her head in a dangerous situation (an amazing feat for anyone, let alone a nearly four-year-old girl). He also knew the Na'vi well enough to know that they would allow nothing bad to happen to her. They had placed Kala's avatar in a spot not far at all from the home of the Omaticaya, hoping that someone would find her and take her in.

Still, it was hard for him to think about Kala spending her life hooked to machines. A little girl should be able to laugh, to play, to enjoy herself. Even without the avatar, that would be very difficult, given the fact that she would spend her life imprisoned in the buildings of Hell's Gate.

At that moment, Norm made a connection that he hadn't thought of before. Perhaps it was better for Kala to become one of the Na'vi. Perhaps this way, Kala would be able to live the life that she found preferable. That had certainly been Jake's case. Heartened, Norm kissed the top of Kala's dark curls as he prepared his daughter for her first- and probably last- link. He signaled to the others that everything was set.

Norm began connecting Kala to the machinery that would keep her alive for the rest of her life as a lab tech somewhere said the two little words that everyone had been waiting for: "Initiating link."

~!~

The Na'vi, as a people, were flourishing as best as they could since the Great War. Neytiri and Jake had a child of their own: a little four year old girl, Nehrya. Life was continuing. Small saplings had sprouted up where Hometree had once stood.

But nothing is ever all butterflies and rainbows, and there were some people who were still suffering.

Enter Stepoma, who lost her mate and young son when Hometree had been destroyed in the first place. She had removed herself to the outskirts of Omaticayan life, choosing to be alone. Attachment, she had learned, quickly led to sorrow.

All that changed when Stepoma, who was out hunting, noticed something odd moving in the brush not far from one of the human's many abandoned mines. At first, the Na'vi woman was nervous, but her curiosity won out in the end. What she saw nearly broke her heart.

A small child, not more than three years old, was sitting curled up in the bush. Her long hair was dark and curly, much to Stepoma's surprise- very few, if any, Na'vi had curly hair.

"I see you," Stepoma said to the girl in Na'vi.

The child said nothing. She just continued to stare at Stepoma with wide, golden eyes.

Stepoma repeated herself, but she still got no response. If anything, the child looked more terrified than she already had.

There was something odd about the situation, Stepoma knew. Why would anyone abandon their child in this desolate area? She searched the area quickly in an attempt to find signs of life. When she found nothing, she sighed and lifted the girl into her arms.

The child was all skin and bones, Stepoma realized sadly. She had been alone for at least a day. Who knows how much affection she had received before that.

"Don't worry, evi," Stepoma promised. "I will care for you." She held the girl close, and the child burrowed her face into Stepoma's shoulder. "You will be my daughter, won't you, Tee'mun?" Stepoma felt a shred of guilt for naming the girl without finding out if the child had already been named, but she couldn't help herself. "You'll forgive me, won't you?" Stepoma cooed.

Tee'mun yawned and shut her eyes, as if she actually understood a word of what Stepoma was saying to her.

There would be time for learning, Stepoma knew. But for now, as she returned to Hometree, she was content to, at long last, feel the connection that exists between two beings.