Disclaimer: Avatar is the property of James Cameron and 20th Century Fox. I just own the DVD and am being allowed to play in the sandbox.
Prolouge: The Warcat.
Miles Quaritch was a man who always had to make himself heard, Grace silently thought, even if most things that came out of that meathead's piehole were hardly worth paying attention to. Certainly, the coronel wasn't going to let anybody in her lab miss out on how pissed off he was about her latest decision.
"You're canceling Project Schutzhund?" the Marine roared. "Canceling a specially commissioned military project that I helped draft and I seem to recall you approved, Dr. Augustine?"
"Yes, I am Coronel," she snarled back. "And do you want to know why? Because your little side project has ended up producing jack crap in the way of results!"
"Oh, don't start in with your hyperbole mam," Quaritch retorted. "We all know you've managed to achieve progress beyond anyone's most optimistic dreams with the Avatar Project in just six years. If you can do so well with producing human/Na'vi hybrids during that time, your team can churn out plenty of Schutzhund hybrids for RDA too."
"And it's only been nine months since you folks got started," Parker chimed in from his swiveling chair.
"You two just don't get it, do you?" Grace sighed in exasperation, rolling her eyes. "First of all, you're asking us to combine the DNA of two creatures who are radically different in behavior, in their body plan, in habits, and oh yeah, come from two separate planets."
"Doesn't the same hold true for the Na'vi and good old Homo sapiens like you and me?" Parker responded. "And yet you pulled it off."
"That's because Grade-A luck was on our side with that one Parker," she droned, meeting his gaze. "Turns out, convergent evolution arranged the genomes of our species and theirs to be similar in umpteen ways-a fact which both of you and a lot of other people around this base could stand to keep in mind," she added, giving both men a meaningful glare. "Anyway, you'd have better luck producing a cross between a leopard and a lobster than what you're trying to have us do with the Schutzhunds."
"Sounds to me like you're just rolling over and giving up," Quaritch huffed. "You've already got one success pacing about in its cage as we speak, Doctor, so don't give me some bullshit about how you can't produce more. Your lackeys need to get off their asses and-"
"The only success out of a shitload of failures!" Augustine yelled back, her ire and frustration flaring as she flung her arms to the sides. "Good God Coronel, don't tell me that you haven't read the reports and looked at the images we've recorded! We've had hideous deformities, premature births, congenital organ problems, the carrier mothers killing the babies, miscarriages, you name it. And we all know that even the one living "panthanator" as we like to call it around here, is way too savage and unpredictable to be used in a military capacity, no matter how many control chips you put in its brain."
"Doctor Augustine," Parker mentioned, "both the corporation and the military have already put 14 million dollars into the Schutzhund Project. Guard dogs can't breathe the atmosphere on Pandora any better than we can, or get the better of those blue lion people if they attack the base, so we both felt the best option was to-"
"To build a better guard dog, one that could give the Na'vi a run for their money and breathe the air without dropping dead," Grace interrupted. "Save me the spiel, Parker. As for the 14 million, that's money you're simply pissing away down a rathole."
"Look," she went on, locking eyes with both men, Quaritch in particular. "My team and I have been working hard in our spare time on this little side project you've foisted on us. But despite our best efforts, we just can't turn out what you're looking for in the panthanators. Our time and energy needs to be directed 100 percent towards the one strategy that actually is accomplishing something, that is producing some positive results in how we relate to the Na'vi…and that's the Avatar project."
"Hey, I'm all for giving peace a chance," Quaritch replied, shrugging his thick shoulders, "but who's going to act as the shock troops if those savages get too uppity, or act as a first line of defense if they come for our asses some dark night?"
"An excellent point," Parker added.
Grace felt her lips curl in disgust before she spat, "First of all Coronel, considering how we've been behaving towards them lately, any hostile action they might take towards us is probably well-deserved. And do you really need a bunch of black panther/thanator hybrids with human intelligence mixed in when you already have your mercenaries? Your Sampson and Scorpion gunships, your missiles and assault rifles? Your Star Wars-esque walkers and cannons? I'd say that's more than sufficient muscle right there."
There was a weighted silence as she watched the Marine considering, measuring the pros and cons in what little brain he had. Pigheaded as the fucker was, he'd probably still refuse to let the project be terminated. Well, too bad. This was her dominion, and she called-
"Hate to say this, but I agree with her," a third voice said before the Marine could speak. It was Parker.
Quaritch was speechless. "I thought you were all for this project just a few minutes ago. You've been ever since I proposed it, I know that."
"I was," Selfridge smiled, "but I changed my mind when confronted by the facts. I can do that, you know." Turning more serious, the CEO looked at Grace, then the Coronel before saying, "I'm sure you and your superiors will be rather disappointed at not getting your new kittens to play with, Coronel Quaritch. However, what's much more important to me is that the corporation is even more disappointed when its money is blatantly wasted, especially for a program that is failing to bear meaningful results. Sorry, but as of now the Schutzhund project is canceled indefinitely."
At that, Quaritch turned and looked at Grace, glaring daggers in his hardly contained fury, lips compressed. Then it drained out of him, and he shrugged dismissively. "Eh, no loss. I prefer getting out there and doing things the old fashioned way anyhow. And the more money you can keep hold of-well, that means that much more loot for me and my boys!" he added before turning on his heel and walking out the main door.
Alone with Parker, Grace watched him go.
"I'll say one thing to his credit, he knows how to take and handle orders," she muttered.
"That he does," Parker nodded. "His men likewise."
Getting ready to walk away, Grace was stopped when Parker added, "By the way, what are you going to do with the lone surviving 'panthanator' your team managed to create?"
"I really don't know," she replied softly. "After all the work we did to get to that point…it would be a real shame to just whip out a gun or a grenade or some toxic gas and destroy it. It's too nasty and willful to ever be trusted of course, far less used as a guard dog. Releasing it isn't an option either, since it's lived in captivity its whole life and wouldn't have a damn clue about how to make it in the jungle. But to answer your question Sir, the best and safest option is probably to keep it in captivity, most likely in a big outdoor enclosure."
"And if it escapes…?" Parker hinted warily.
"We can install several redundant measures to prevent that," Grace confidently replied. "Electric fencing, laser barriers, sound emitters, you name it. Only way that creature could get out was if there was a catastrophic system failure or the base's power was completely shut off-and I don't see us Sky People leaving Pandora any time soon."
"Somehow I suspect you'll end up eating your words about that hybrid Doctor, no matter how many barriers you present it with," Parker said skeptically.
And indeed, Parker Selfridge's prediction did come to pass. It was just that Doctor Augustine would no longer be alive to see it. But Jake would.
It goes without saying, reviews are appreciated. And oh yeah, I'm still very frigging pissed that Grace got killed off, just for the record.
Prologue: The Warcat.