Ok, I fully admit, I love this movie. Props to James Cameron for creating such a well thought out and immersive world. It's been a long time since I've seen a movie like this that is so realistic in its concept and execution. Of course, this is where I say that Avatar belongs to James Cameron alone. The only thing mine in here are the OCs.

This is my first fanfiction, so if you care to review, be generous. Of course, I welcome constructive criticism. It's how we all improve, right?

Chapter 1

The Enterprise Star hurtled through the vacuum of space in utter silence. The massive starship was nearing the end of its almost six year journey from Earth to Pandora. No one aboard yet realized that they would never be returning home.

Captain Ignacio Delgado casually sipped his foul tasting artificial coffee from a thermos, slurping noisily on the straw. If he saw the two crewmen manning the ops stations cringe, he did not show it. Truth be told, if he did in fact see this, he would have continued slurping anyway, simply to amuse himself at their expense. Ignacio was not a cruel man in the foulest sense of the term. Rather, he possessed a certain grouchiness that could only come about with old age and experience. The captain felt himself sliding into the mold of the bitter-old-man, and he found he was rather enjoying the trip. Laugh or cry, he thought. The destination sure ain't changing.

Ignacio regarded the thermos with a certain measure of irritation. He wished he could be drinking from a mug, rather than a sealed thermos. What a simple pleasures, drinking from a ceramic mug. However, scalding hot liquid and a potentially weightless environment did not mix well. All of the drinks consumed aboard the Enterprise Star were from sealed containers or pouches. He had not indulged in such decadence as a cup since his ship left from Earth, so long ago. He sighed. After this round trip, he would retire a multi-millionaire. It was his reward for selling (slaving?) 40 years of his life to the RDA. ISV captains would make two round trips between Earth and Pandora before calling it quits, spending the remainder of their employ training and guiding a new generation of interstellar voyagers.

Captain Delgado's morose self-reflection was interrupted by a soft tone from one of the control panels. Instantly, the horrible fake coffee was forgotten. Ignacio leapt to his feet with an ease born of 60% gravity and was behind one of his watch stander's chair instantly, studying the holographic readouts intently along with the younger man.

"Sir…?" the man said as he looked back over his shoulder to verify that his captain was seeing exactly what he was seeing.

"Not good. Not good at all," Ignacio murmured. This would soon prove to be a massive understatement.

Max Patel really liked golf. It was something he had never picked up while back home, but here on Pandora, he found he was willing to try almost anything to relieve the stress of running Hell's Gate. The fact that Parker Selfridge had left behind a set of clubs that surely cost a year's salary played a role in his newfound affinity for the activity as well. Max idly wondered what it cost to transport this set of golf clubs between worlds.

The scientist shaded his eyes as he watched the small white ball he just thwacked soar through the air towards the far perimeter fence. The Hell's Gate airfield was the only open place, easily accessible, anyway, that Max had a chance to really exercise his chosen hobby. There was something uniquely stress relieving about pounding the snot out of a golf ball. Max knew he would never truly master the game without further lessons from an instructor who was definitely not available. It only took a small amount of practice, however, to drive a ball as far as one could.

"Golf? Really?" a voice spoke from practically right behind Max's head.

"Sweet mother!" the scientist exclaimed as he whirled around. Max craned his neck and almost fell flat on his rear as he looked up at the blue smirking face of Jake Sully. "Don't do that! You'll give me a heart attack," Max groused.

Jake threw his head back and laughed heartily. "Oh, but the look on your face was priceless! I could apologize, but I honestly wouldn't mean it." The former avatar smiled down at his friend. "You were rather focused on your game, after all." Jake squinted into the distance, shading his eyes with his large hand. "Nice shot, though. If I'm not mistaken, I think your ball is actually up against the perimeter fence."

"Really? How can you tell…" Max's voice faded out as he fumbled with a monocular range finder hanging around his neck.

"30 yards to the left of the turret, just by that patch of weeds growing there," Jake provided.

Max inhaled sharply, the sound of his breath amplified by the exopack he was wearing. "How in the world can you see that?" Max exclaimed.

Jake grinned. "Neytiri makes me eat all my carrots."

"You're bloody near ten feet tall. How does anyone make you do anything?" Max grumbled, still slightly put off by being so easily startled.

Jake's grin turned into a faint leer. "She can be very…persuasive…when she wants to be."

"I don't even want to hear about it," Max chuckled as he began loading his clubs back into his bag. "Did you come all the way out here to scare me? I'm flattered," Max smiled back.

"Not quite," Jake replied, sobering somewhat. "I got a call over the com in the avatar cabin. Tanaka would like both of us up in the control room. Didn't say what about, but I'll give you one guess."

Max sighed. Jake, Neytiri, and a small contingent from the Omaticaya were visiting Hell's Gate to greet the first arriving ISV since the war ended over a year ago. Much had changed in that time. Jake Sully, Toruk Makto, was now olo'eyktan of the Omaticaya. Max was in charge of the 50 odd humans remaining on Pandora. Everyone mutually dreaded this moment when the first of the giant space ships, already in an unstoppable arc towards Pandora, would arrive. It was quickly agreed that the chances of them being allowed to land were slim to non-existent. The truth of the matter was that for the first several years, the arriving ships would pose no significant threat. These ships were dutifully following the line of commerce between star systems and had nothing to do with the conflict a year prior – it would be at year six that any significant recourse from earth would strike Pandora.

Still, better safe than sorry, Jake thought. Max and Hoshiro Tanaka, the man in charge of the dozen Sec-Ops troopers with enough of a moral compass to object to the ill-fated battle against the Na'vi, readily agreed. None of the men had any doubts that the RDA would turn its back on Pandora after all that it had invested. But the trick would be to ensure that any further human involvement on the planet did not involve Na'vi genocide. Jake did not relish explaining this to the rest of the Na'vi. It was something he knew would need to be done, though, whether he wanted to or not. Jake knew his birth race too well. He grimaced at this thought. I am one of the People, now, he thought to himself. Jake consciously thought this in the Na'vi tongue. I will do what is best by them, first and foremost, with every fiber of my being.

Jake and Max walked back towards the airlock of the central building. As they passed the massive hangar, they both waved at a mechanic doing a post-flight work over on a Samson. Pandora's atmosphere was harsh on just about everything human, from their physical bodies to their metal machines.

Hell's Gate was a different place, now. It is a lot quieter now, for one thing. There was no longer a real reason to have massive AMP suites stomping around. Having only five qualified helicopter pilots contributed to that, as well. No longer were armed flights of Scorpions heading out every half hour for patrols. Only one or two science flights out a day were the norm, now. Every single expedition outside the walls of Hell's Gate had at least one avatar operator or Omaticayan native along. To be sure, one of the former Sec-Ops soldiers traveled with as well, but that was mostly to ensure the safety of the landed Samson. The remaining scientists and soldiers alike were learning that safety out in the forest came not from a gun, but from simply being aware of one's surroundings. Many of Jake's hunters teased the humans about their lesser and more limited senses. However, each of them was quite impressed with the persistence and seriousness with which each human took their newfound existence on a world that is so hostile towards them.

Jake and Max entered an airlock, and Max initiated the atmospheric change. He looked at Jake with concern when the man coughed harshly and thumped his chest. "Are you sure you're alright," Max asked. "We can rig up some reverse exopacks for you guys. Just because you're able to breathe earth air doesn't mean you're obliged to."

Jake finished his coughing spell, clearing his throat with a hoarse growl. "No, that's fine. The transition's the hardest. Now the air just smells funny. Too sweet. Besides, I've always hated exopacks."

Max harrumphed as the light turned green over the inner door. Max simply walked inside, while Jake promptly banged his head on his way through the door frame with a soft "Sonofabitch," under his breath. Max grinned. "Watch it, big boy," he said.

There were not too many people moving about the halls. Most of the scientists stuck to their labs, eagerly questing away for more knowledge. The pair passed Janelle Huxley, one of the avatar program technicians, on their way to the control room. She was one of the first faces Jake had seen when he first linked with his avatar. "Good to see you again, Jake," she greeted him as they passed. There were several overlapping reasons why the remaining humans on Pandora had decided to stay. Nothing or no one to go back to was by far the most common. When Jake had asked Janelle why she chose to remain, she shrugged, seeming genuinely embarrassed. "What good is a glorified Na'vi doctor back on earth," she had said. Jake and Neytiri both had no desire to "humanize" their clan, and the Omaticaya had no shortage of medical knowledge. Janelle would be the first, with wide and eager eyes, to admit that the clan's "doctors" taught her much more then she taught them. To say that Janelle's medical skills had gone underutilized thus far, though, would not be doing her presence here justice.

A tense atmosphere greeted Jake and Max when they reached the control room. Only about half of the operations stations were manned, but that did little to detract from the palpable nervousness in the air. Hoshiro Tanaka's presence lorded over it all. The man was only about five feet seven inches tall, but his presence was imposing nonetheless. His jet-black hair was beginning to streak with gray, and he wore it long, tied back in a ponytail that draped to his shoulders. He wore the standard Sec-Ops jungle fatigues with one addition: an elegant, beautifully lethal samurai sword in a scabbard over his left shoulder. Hoshiro had made the weapon himself – how, no one knows, for no one was present when he forged it. Whatever alloy he chose to craft it from was incredibly strong and light, and above all, razor sharp. Jake had no doubt that the man could sever his wrist from his arm, carbon fiber bones notwithstanding.

"Olo'eyktan," Hoshiro murmured with a nod, his face firm and unreadable. He was almost always like that, Jake mused. If the man decided to play poker, he would surely be a champion. He had no tell, nothing to give away what was going on behind his inscrutable eyes. He would also greet Jake by no other title, not even by his name. Hoshiro's reason for staying was deeply personal, and he had only confided it to Jake, whom he had first greeted as vanquisher. It was a matter of his own personal honor, he had explained to Jake. Hoshiro had been one of the squad leaders on the ground during the battle for the Tree of Souls. What exactly happened to him was a secret he had told no one. He was one of a very few people from the ground force that had made it back alive, that day. "I should not have been there," he had said. "It was the fight of a coward, of evil against good. It was a fight that should have killed me for my own cowardly participation. But here I am, alive. I will spend the rest of my life here, defending these people." He chuckled at this. "The Na'vi…they are not human." Hoshiro had looked up at Jake, his eyes filled with deep emotion. "But neither am I, for what I've done. I will stay here to find myself again, if you will have me. I will be a slayer of innocence no longer." What he had not said, but that Jake strongly suspected, was that Hoshiro would have ended his own life should he have left Pandora. The man was a deep well, one that Jake had dropped a pebble into and had yet to hear it hit bottom.

Jake's eyes swept the room and landed upon his mate. Neytiri was sitting back against a side wall, the light from the windows falling across her. Jake smiled – she was like a cat, sunning herself with her eyes closed. "I see you, my love," he whispered. He was still across the room, but he saw here right ear twitch when he addressed her. One eye slid half open, then shut again, and the corners of her delicate lips turned upwards in a faint grin.

Jake knew she did not mind the human company. Neytiri had grown to accept, even care for, the humans who had stayed behind. A few days after the last shuttle had lifted off, after the glow of victory had faded, she realized what it meant for at least some of them to make this choice. In truth, it was Norm Spellman who had shown her this. She counted him as one of her closest friends. In a moment of quiet reflection with Norm and Jake, she had whispered through tears that she missed her father, Eytukan. Norm, his eyes distant, replied without thinking, "I miss my family, too." In that instant, Neytiri Saw Norm much better, much clearer then she had before. His loyalty towards the People filled her heart with warmth and compassion towards the man who had given up his world for hers. Jake looked on, quietly amused, as Neytiri enfolded Norm in a gentle hug. He squeaked in a most unbecoming way as the much larger Neytiri gathered his human form in her arms and said, "Then we will be your family now, Normspellman."

She did not mind the company at all. Jake smiled, rubbing his forehead where a goose egg had formed. She did mind being inside, though. Neytiri despised being indoors, with all of its strange smells, where she could not hear the sounds of the forest or feel the breeze against her skin. Despite her serene face, her tail twitched to and fro with silent agitation. Jake crossed the room and sat down beside her, and promptly nipped at the tip of her ear. Her eyes flew wide open with a start. "Do not do that here!" she hissed at him. Jake grinned innocently at her. "Bah!" she huffed, slapping his knee and looking away. "You are such a…"

"Skxawng?" Jake offered.

"No…something else. I will not say it here." Jake could see the faint blush creeping up her neck. If the room had been dark he would have seen the bioluminescent spots on her face brighten. Her shoulders shook once with a silent laugh. "This is a serious time," she chastised, but could not force herself to sound mad at her mate.

Max was looking over the shoulders of some of the techs while Hoshiro quietly whispered in his ear. Though Jake could clearly hear what they were saying, he chose not to pay attention until they addressed him. Hoshiro sighed, and finally looked up at him. "We had agreed that we would…potentially… permit only the trade of a limited amount of unobtanium for the supplies aboard the ISVs, yes? There would be no interaction with those aboard. The crew should not even bring the passengers out of cryo."

Jake locked eyes with Neytiri. They nodded as one. "None of these new people should be permitted to stay," she said. Jake met Hoshiro's gaze. His look said that he plainly agreed with his mate.

"Have you completed all of your checks?" Hoshiro addressed the woman at the communications console.

She sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Yes, sir. It's as clean as I can make it. The transmissions are corrupted before they even get to our satellites, but that would line up with the Enterprise Star's story."

"Call them back," Hoshiro ordered. "Put it on the speakers." Jake raised an eyebrow.

The woman nodded. "Enterprise Star, Hell's Gate, please repeat your last transmission."

A distorted voice filled the room, filled with panic. "Hell's Gate, Enterprise Star. Our refrigeration unit has been damaged; it's been totally shot up! Probably from a micrometeorite storm. The containment field for the matter-antimatter engines is failing and the engines are beginning to overheat; they will go critical in less than 36 hours."

The voice paused; everyone in the control room could hear the person on the other end of the radio cough nervously. It came out as an irritating rasp of static. Jake shot upright from his slouched position against the wall next to his mate. He looked over at Max whose eyes were wide behind his glasses. "Hell's Gate, your previous command to not land on Pandora has not been forgotten." A nervous pause… "But if we are not allowed to disembark, we will all be killed when the ship turns into a star in a little over a day."