Rear Ends
"Exopacks on. Repeat, expoacks on. The Pandoran atmosphere is highly volatile. Never remove your pack outdoors."
It was tempting, so tempting to disobey for the hell of it and if the grunts around him hadn't obeyed promptly, "Able" Ryder might have made a thing out of being told what to do. They were probably feeling the same way as he did, feeling a new extreme of jetlag mixed with what felt like the mother of all hangovers and despite having been briefed on the moon's toxic atmosphere, he failed to see what a bit of xenon, methane, ammonia and hydrogen cyanide would do to him. Well, apart from rendering him unconscious in twenty seconds and dead in four minutes.
Wouldn't the RDA love that?
Cradling his rifle in his hands, something told Ryder that unlike the men around him, he was going to get the worst of both worlds. He was a signals specialist and not a grunt, despite what Doctor Augustine had told him on the flight in, but he knew that didn't make him a scientist. It was only by fluke that his DNA made him compatible with an Avatar and an understanding by the powers that be that if sending a cryptologist to a moon 4.37 light years from Earth would get his spark back, so be it. More work on Marianas for the Company no doubt.
Not bloody likely.
On the other hand, the shuttle jolting in its final descent as if to remind him, he suspected that he wasn't going to make many friends among SecOps either. It was hard to pinpoint, but while the other soldiers had been perfectly willing to listen to stories of battles in Africa to EVA training on Titan, the mere mention of heading to Alpha Centauri A to join some quacks in the Avatar Program had prompted his fellow mercenaries to give him a wide berth. Hopefully Falco and Quartich would be above such petty enmity, but even if they were, that would be little comfort.
Sighing, Ryder walked forward among those who had been brave or foolish enough to come to "the most hostile environment known to Man." All this thinking wasn't doing his headache any favours and upon exiting, neither did the base's fumes, somehow getting through along with the nitrogen and oxygen. All in all, about the only welcome sight was the woman standing by a GAV JL-723 "Swan," waiting for the new arrivals.
"Welcome to your new home people, Hell's Gate," she said, still managing to look like a normal human being instead of a succubus of the base's namesake. "I'm Officer Midori. Not much on formalities, so you can call me Kendra."
Ryder blinked, his mind taking the girl's words in while his eyes registered other information. Brown hair, average build, drab fatigues and an equally drab satchel slung over her shoulder...not exactly someone who radiated macho, but not an individual who radiated knowledge either. All in all, Kendra Midori was hard to place.
For some reason, this assessment brought a smile to the trooper's features. Maybe he wasn't the only person on this world who transcended the social and occupational divide.
"Anyway, time to cut to the chase," said the officer, consulting a clipboard as she did so. "I'll be in charge of your orientation, but that'll come later. Now, which one of you is Ryder?"
"That's me," answered the signals specialist, gingerly raising a hand. He wasn't too keen on the men around him to know of his existence any more than they had to, but he could see where this briefing was going. And right now he wanted to get it over with, to...to...oh surely not...
"Ok, you're with me," Kendra answered without even looking up, an APC rolling up as she did so. "Rest of you, climb onboard and you'll be shuttled to the main complex."
It was clear that Ryder's fellow recruits weren't keen on the arrangements, but he couldn't care less regardless. He'd take a ride in a Swan over an APC any day, to be exposed to the elements after being on ice for half a decade. And, he had to admit, the company would be better too.
"Jump in," said Kendra, turning around to face the Swan. "I'll get you to Monroe in no time."
"Sure..." Ryder murmured, watching Midori's backside rather than the Swan for some reason. "Nice ass..."
Shit!
Ryder knew what he'd said and judging how fast Kendra spun around, she knew as well. What he didn't know however, was why he'd said it. Maybe it was from five years alone and only seeing two woman apart from his superior in the last few hours, one Doctor Augustine and the other a cryo specialist whose only words were "if you're going to throw up, don't get it on me." Maybe it was a need to rebel, to establish himself as someone who wasn't wet behind the ears and had served in hellholes before. Regardless, whatever the reason, if he didn't cover his own ass quickly, he'd never be able to live his original comment down.
"The Valkyrie," said Ryder awkwardly, gesturing towards the shuttle's open hatch. "Never realized how big it was until now."
"Yeah..." said Kendra, not sounding entirely convinced. "I mean, it's eighty meters wide after all."
Ryder didn't know that and suspected that Kendra knew far more of the SSTO-TAV-37 B-class shuttlecraft's specs than just mere width. But maybe that would come in time. He'd come to Pandora to escape from Earth, but if he didn't learn anything from the experience, what was the point? After all, he'd learned something just now-given Officer Midori's small smile, cracking jokes in her company was acceptable.
Despite his headache, the signals specialist smiled back.
A/N
I don't know what it says about my state of mind that the opening cutscenes of Avatar (the game) establishing how large the Valkyrie's ramp is gave me the idea for this oneshot. I can say that I feel somewhat validated in that the movie showed firsthand how large 22nd century human aerospace craft can be and that Ryder's audiologs establish his early connection to Kendra, but still, you know...
On the other hand, I'm glad that Cameron didn't get too in-depth in the film's mating scene so hopefully my moral center remains intact. :)