What if Jake had a brain to use? What if he decided to make different plans instead of an all-out war that he'd loose if he didn't suddenly find his inner hippie and decided to go pray to a goddess that wasn't his own?
.
It's always been like this, Jake thinks as he looks at what he thinks he might look like if he slept peacefully without his nightmares. Tommy's face always was a bit softer. He has seen wonders (that was what he called science when trying to explain it to his mentally under-furnished brother) instead of dead friends and too much blood. Jake always thought it'd be him lying there with Tommy looking down at his (perhaps even mutilated) face. It is odd that Jake has no scars on his face after even his legs gave out on him. Or, more specifically, his spine.
(He'd rather be scarred beyond recognition, so that he wouldn't be reminded of Tommy whenever he looks in a mirror. So, because he wouldn't take a knife to his own face, he doesn't look into anything reflective anymore.)
He hates moments like these where his mortality is far too obvious, glaring in his face like a woman scorned, but still he himself lives and another precious person is gone. He likes to say that on no day is he closer to his death than their birthday.
But he likes to say lots of things. Not, that they make anyone feel better. If anything, he's more of a jackass for opening his mouth.
There are lots of people who like to say lots of things. "...And since your genetic make up is identical, you can take his place. And the pay is good."
Fuckers.
He sometimes wonders why he went to war and got himself caught up in an explosion if all he can come back to are corporations and people who always need to sell you something.
When it comes down to it, it's not like he has anything better to do with his life. And this could mean a chance to literally stand on his own two feet again. All that had to happen for that was his twin brother dying because someone can't make an honest living. But then again, what's more honest than theft these days? Jake never could see behind the obvious and what he was meant to see. There's a reason he sent his earnings to Tommy for medical school and his Phd. Jake doesn't even know what that stands for.
And now he's waking up from cyro with too many morbid thoughts on his mind and no one to pull him back to where he knows his shit. He doesn't stop being a marine just because he can't walk. But it's a hell of a lot harder to be mistaken for one.
No one likes looking at cripples, least of all the cripples themselves.
Worst thing is, he used to be one of them 'Jarheads' who mocked the ones who didn't even manage to die properly. Now he just... he's kind of done being unmindful and an ignorant jerk. But also, he's still a marine and so that security drill reminds him of what he came to think of as home and if not friends, then at least allies and no subtleties that anyone expected him to pick up on.
Here though, on this planet full of vegetation and life, there is the corporate business that he's meant to view as his ally. And if his allies are men in too expensive suits who've never even realised what it means to destroy and drill and take, should he get with the geeky crowd? Because Jake sucks at that. Augustine is actually the fun kind of witty with enough bite behind her bark that he can like her if she stops being upset and whiny. It is how it is. And Jake even got to pig hearts, so there.
At least he gets to see what it feels like to dig his toes into the earth. And the feeling fills him with so much euphoria, he hasn't stopped grinning or making wide eyes at anything since he stepped into his new body.
It kind of hurts having to realise that that isn't his real one. It actually hurts a fucking lot. Which is why it's so easy to accept a new mission and say 'yes sir' when he's being offered his own legs back. In the back of his mind he knows he'll have to think this over while he pretends he has something more than air between his ears. But he can get his legs back. And that beats just about anything right now.
Trudie is the kind of rough personality he's been around and gotten along with all his life. She ribs and teases, but it's all in good fun. He's never been sensitive anyway.
Which is probably why he ends up running for his life on his first day out of boot camp.
He soon realises that anything he's been taught about wilderness survival won't help him here. This is a different planet ('eco-system, J', says Tommy while rolling his eyes in the back of his mind). Different planet means different rules. And the rules here are savage, but fascinating. It feels purer somehow. Which is why he decides against lighting a torch and drawing hunters near when all he has for self defence is a long but sturdy spear and a knife.
That would just be all kinds of stupid. Which he is. But even idiots take a vacation from their usual behavioural patterns.
What did Augustine say? 'I'm sure they're watching us now.' Maybe all he has to do is wait. Really, when he thinks rationally about it, the indigenous are his only hope of returning to camp. He can't light a bonfire in a forest and he's not seen any clearings so far. He has no map. He has no way of judging the four cardinal points to judge his location in relation to the camp because he has no idea where it is, where he is and how far it would be anyway because he was too busy enjoying the ride in the chopper. The colours were so vibrant and alive.
Still are. Perhaps especially at night. Everything glows and the forest becomes an entirely different world where he doesn't mind just sitting and looking until someone find him or he has to start hunting down his own food. Which could be tricky because he's no navy seal. He's a foot soldier. He eats rations from which to live and if he ever sees any wildlife that looks edible he's too slow to kill it. He's decent with a knife, but he's reluctant to throw it in case the animal runs off with his weapon if he fails to kill at first shot. Also, back home animals in wilderness that are edible have become kind of rare. As has open space or vegetation. So he has no practice in tracking or stealth.
Everything just glows. The mossy ground, the weird plants, his own dotted skin... all right, fine. That is a bit creepy. He's a little (a lot) creeped out right now. He can't just wait here...
He could never sit still anyway. So this is where his idiocy returns with a vengeance. He's gonna go look for a way back.
He's not quite sure how he ended up with a snarling blue person beneath him, but here he is and the girl just won't stop struggling. Seriously. How is he supposed to try and communicate his lost-ness when she tries to kick and bite and scratch him all the damn time? Right, okay, maybe he should get off of her. He does that, carefully. No need to loose an eye on his first day or ever, really.
She doesn't get any friendlier for his trouble. At least Jake is standing.
"Look, if you could just point me in the right direction", he dodges an agitated swat with a long arrow, "I'll be out of your hair in a moment, yeah? Just-", he dodges again, "Calm down for one goddamn minute!"
She snarls again and Jake wonders how this is his life. Fuck vegetation and savage new rules, he'll take Augustine over this any day.
Then something of astronomical weirdness happens. A white, creepy, glowing bug tries to float onto his hand. Like hell! Who knows what kinds of rabies that thing has? Or whatever the plant equivalent is.
He quickly bats it away, but it comes back. Hasn't it understood the universal law of survival? If something swats you away, you get the hell out of there, or you'll be squish on a wall.
And of fucking course the bug travels in swarms! Worst night ever. Like, ever.
"No!", she grabs his hand as he tries to swat again - Why is he always the one attracting all the bugs? -, "No! A sign! A sign from Eywa!"
What.
Bugs that do who knows what try to swarm him like every pest he's encountered so far and she thinks someone is telling her something? What the hell? He bats the one trying to land on his face away. Ha. Weird bugs twenty and counting, Jake two.
And now he's following the half-naked - well, actually... he's not going to think about that - to her village. Because he'll be lost otherwise and never find back to base.
He resigns himself to a sleepless couple of days.
He is finally finding his feet on the weird tree roots and starting to run. Good feeling, that. Running. Using his legs in general is pure ecstasy. Which is, of course, when his night gets worse.
A sling around his ankles makes him drop to the ground painfully. But his body is resilient, so he's okay. Except for the bows drawn and hostile eyes on him, those aren't so cool. He decides that pulling out his knife to free his ankles now is not a good idea and decides to wait for the girl to tell the others about the bugs.
One of them in particular seems very put-out by what she's spouting, but he complies and Jake is hauled off to the home tree.
And what is with all the touching? Have they never heard of personal space? He likes his personal space and has the weird urge to hiss and snarl and snap. He doesn't. Because as weird as glowing dots on his body are, he is still a halfway civilised person when you overlook the coarse attitude and resilience to learning.
"What are you called?", the Dragonlady asks and Jake wonders whether it's a good idea to tell them his true name. What does he know about their weird mojo anyway? Names have a lot of power, even if it's only the image he paints. So what image does he want to project? Someone trustworthy, obviously, so he's gotta give them some, too. That's how trust works. And any healthy relationship. Give and take.
Only, he's never really been the trustworthy sort, has he?
"Jake Sully. I'm here to learn", yeah right. Like he'll ever sit through lectures again if he can help it.
She says something about cups that are already full. Scientists. Yes, always as cocksure as an unbloodied greenhorn, aren't they?
"I can guarantee you, mine's empty", and ain't that just his entire life summed up in a sentence? He's a Jarhead, after all. "I'm not a scientist. I was a marine - a... warrior", in for a penny..., "Of the Jarhead clan."
He can barely keep from laughing at how seriously they take his words. Goddamn, how do they even hope to go against the Aliens if they believe every word he says? Suspicion is important in warfare. But to them, it's not warfare, is it? They live in a tree. What do they know about the magnitude of destruction the humans will bring?
Nothing.
Jake realises that maybe, just maybe, he should be telling them about every exploitable weakness he knows about. Because as much as he pities them, he doesn't think they deserve to die. They're untainted in a way humanity hasn't been in a long time.
Fucking hell. He's going soft. Going soft without his orders. He's sure he'll get some, from both Augustine and that 'tough' guy of a commanding officer. Only he's not tough. Not in the true sense. Sure, he's fought and has the scar to prove it, but he's not the type to do what he commands his troops on the ground to do. He'll just press a button and never watch the light fade in someone's eyes. He's one of those soldiers that are far too happy to flip a switch and wave their conscience good-bye.
"A warrior? I could take him!", the angry one from earlier shouts suddenly, and Jake thinks he must be some kind of future leader or something because he wears more on his body than the others.
"We have never had a warrior of the sky-people among us", the Feather Shaman says and this does not bode well for Jake. He just needs a way back to base, nothing more.
And because he is forced to play nice, he gets roped into weeks of studying under the girl, learning the ways of the clan. He already knows that they love nature and all that, he just wants to get back to base... Stupid bugs.
He blames the insects.