Pandora.
The planet of riches. The planet of new beginnings. The planet of death.
I never really cared about my mother's research on Pandora. She could hug trees all she wanted. Unfortunately, even though I lied when I told my mom I read her books, she pulled strings and got me a free ride to Pandora. She left for the planet when I was young, so I never really knew her, but she provided for me and wanted me there with her. It was a little weird to think I'd be joining my long-lost mother.
I wasn't going there for her scientist mumbo jumbo. I was going there to photograph Pandora. Mom's publishers figured a literary view on Pandora was all fine and good, but people really wanted to see what everything looked like. Photographing earth wasn't all that exciting, so Pandora would be an adventure, in more ways than one. I'd seen pictures of when the earth was green and beautiful and I couldn't wait to see a planet that was just as breathtaking.
My shuttle shipped out in 2154, carrying five scientists, including myself, and our avatars. I didn't see the point in having one for myself, but since it was paid for and pretty cool looking, I didn't protest. Normal shuttles had hired guns aboard, but since the publishing company was paying for my shuttle, they preferred we ride first class.
Cryo sleep is strange. You fall asleep one minute, and the next second you wake up, six years have gone by. Every muscle in your body aches and you wonder if someone slipped you a bottle of vodka right before you woke up. When you look in the mirror, your face looks the same, your hair hasn't grown. Six years skipped. You didn't age at all, and nothing is gone from your lifespan. Seems like an even trade.
Our shuttle landed on the satellite station, and we were sent down to the planet in a lifepod ship. No sense in making a whole trip for just five people. The shuttle's crew went into cryo, waiting for us to finish our work, while we sailed down through the clouds.
Pandora.
The planet of the Na'vi. And now Mikayla Augustine's home. My home.
