Meals on Wheels

"Check it out man. Meals on wheels."

"Oh man, that is just wrong."

It was funny how the senses worked. All five of them. And while Jake Sully could see that he was in Hell's Gate, could smell that it was just like home despite the exopack, could feel warm air courtesy of the Valkyrie's engines, it was hearing that had taken priority. Because even with taste cut off to him right now apart from the bitter aftertaste of cryo-fluid, it was his hearing that had directed him to these thirteen words. So after waiting for a giant tractor to pass with arrows stuck in its tires, ignoring the sound of gunfire as a sentry gun dealt with a critter who'd crossed the perimeter, it was all down to business.

Jake, you don't want to do this, came the voice of what shrinks back on Earth called "conscience." You know what happened last time.

Wheeling over to the two SecOps grunts, Corporal Sully ignored it. True, being thrown out of a bar wasn't the most dignified exit he could make but he somehow doubted that the 'dynamic duo' in front of him would be able to throw him out of this establishment without orders from their superiors. And given the size of Hell's Gate and the hostility of the flora and fauna surrounding it, taking all that trouble for a cripple was perhaps more than it was worth. So, approaching the two stooges whose nametags identified them as Fike and Wainfleet, it was time to let the sense of sound do its work and let the pricks hear what he had to say.

"Well?" Jake asked, looking up at his fellow grunts. "What're you limpdicks staring at?"

"How limp yours is."

Four words this time and already a new status quo had been established. The one named Wainfleet glanced at Fike, as if sensing that his subordinate had crossed a line that shouldn't be crossed, cripple or not. The private however, had other plans. Plans that involved staring through his exopack at the one below him, as if daring him to throw a punch. And with Wainfleet having an appointment with a stingbat caught in the wire, drawing his pistol to deal with the unfortunate critter, an opening was given for stooge no. 1 to work his magic.

"You got a lot of balls coming here six legs," Fike sneered, kneeling down so that he and Jake could be on eye level. "Shame that a lot doesn't amount to two in your case."

"Maybe," murmured Jake, deciding that it was worth being late for the prep talk scheduled in the mess to deal with his jackass. "But at least I'm able to think without them."

It seemed that Fike was willing to risk punishment as well, one hand tightening on his rifle, another tightening into a fist. In the end, it was only the presence of a third hand that stopped the situation from getting messy."

"Let it go pal," said Wainfleet, having returned to the fray from his hunting trip. He glanced at Jake. "Seen a lotta guys leave this place in a wheelchair. Never seen anybody show up in one."

Jake shrugged. "I like setting new standards."

Fike murmured something about lowering standards but both corporals ignored him, their attentions on each other. It was clear to Jake that Wainfleet was of a similar opinion as his fellow soldier, but at least had enough sense and/or decency to keep his mouth shut. Regardless, he was grateful for it. He wasn't sure who his friends and enemies would be in this place but if his life back on Earth was any indication, he'd probably find himself lacking in the former category.

"Anyway, Quartrich should have started his lecture by now, so you best get going," said Wainfleet, holstering his pistol as he did so. "Best get going. Let me know if uses a speech that doesn't involve Kansas this time will ya?"

"Sure."

Wheeling over towards the base's interior, Jake wondered if he could count Wainfleet as a friend. All in all, probably not, but as Tommy had been the only scientist he'd ever been friends with and that the locals were hostiles to humans, he didn't really see himself making friends with anyone else. And hearing the final exchange between the two, he realized he could do worse.

"Fike you idiot, you really shouldn't have done that."

"Oh lay off it man. He's a bloody cripple. What's the worst he could do?"


"Hey marine!"

"Grace?"

"Well who'd you expect numbnuts? Think fast!"

Despite indeed being numb in...certain areas of his body, not to mention disorientated for reasons other than Grace Augustine's sudden appearance as an Avatar Jake Sully, back to having two legs instead of six and blue skin to boot, was able to catch the purple...thing that the Avatar Program's head quack threw to him.

"Motor control seems good," murmured Grace, actually sounding impressed. Jake didn't really notice however. Not only was he well above syncopathy, but here he was on an alien planet (or moon, astronomy was Tom's thing) holding fruit. Fruit! That was a luxury back home, taken from greenhouses, but here he was holding vegetables' twin grown in abundance. And not knowing nor caring whether it would kill him, he took a bite out of it.

Wow...why isn't this being grown back home?

Probably for biological reasons, what with protecting what remained of Earth's biosphere. Still, biting deep into the purple...thing with dark purple juices running down his chin, Jake Sully couldn't care about that. All he cared about right now was that a) he had legs, b) he was eating fruit, c) his cross country run had attracted some attention from some SecOps grunts and d) it fell to him to put this delicacy to better use. And ignoring Norm's revelation of having grown muscles, he pelted the fruit at the approaching grunts. Grunts that, as he'd seen out of the corner of his eye, included Fike

With Fike's visor saturated in fruit juice and the private rolling on the ground while trying to scrape it off, it appeared that his aim had only improved as an Avatar.

"What the hell?!" Fike yelled, struggling to his feet while his comrades laughed with everyone else within twenty feet. "What the hell are you doing you overgrown...oh."

Jake blinked. Tom's Avatar had his looks as well as his own, but apparently this fact was apparent to even jackasses who laughed at cripples. Still, that was for the best overall. Because while he wasn't going to use his new strength to make Fike a cripple, he could do the next best thing. Because kneeling down to the grunt's level, bringing his giant eyes to small human ones, he prepared his 'apology.'

"What can I say pal?" Jake Sully asked. "Meals on wheels."


A/N (2010/01/22)

Added the libebreaker that was meant to be there originally. Forgot that they're cut out in the uploading process.