First fanfiction. Caught the Avatar bug and had a spark of creativity. This is it fleshed out. Please review, comment, etc.
Ray's stomach dropped out from inside his chest as the Valkyrie began interacting with Pandora's local gravity. It was refreshing to feel some force pulling him to earth after a rough ride in cryo. A young staff sergeant exited the cockpit door and stood at attention. The marines around him gawked for a second and then quickly stood and saluted a full bird Colonel who had just exited the door behind the sergeant. The man was not particularly tall, but he radiated a fierce determination that demanded respect. A trio of thin ropy scars wound their way up the right side of his face. He smiled and returned the collective salute.
"At ease".
The Marines on board dropped their salute but remained standing. The mercenaries however kept their seat throughout, Ray included. The United States had cut a deal with the RDA. Fresh Marines in exchange for discounts on the massive stock of goods and services they offered. The Colonel paced a little, then looked up and spoke.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, My name is Miles Quaritch. You will be the third company that has been deployed to this god-forsaken moon in it's history."
Quaritch's eyes swept the slightly anxious crowd of Marines.
"You will not be the first, or the last."
The Colonel continued pacing back and forth.
"Do NOT underestimate this moon. Hell's Gate is as you all know, not yet entirely finished, and we are just breaking ground in the primary mining locations. Everything is up in the air right now, and we have no goddamn clue how this situation as a whole will unfold. Again, you have doubtless been briefed on the natives, but allow me to inject a bit of my own advice: They do not appreciate our presence. They may be primitive, but they are deadly. Likewise, the local flora and fauna are incredibly hostile, and you will encounter threats the likes of which make your worst nightmares seem like fantasies."
Quaritch stopped again and stared them all down before speaking again.
"If you are not paying one hundred percent attention to the task of keeping yourself alive, you will be dead long before you get the opportunity to rotate back. I say this not to scare you, but to prepare you. This is your last chance to sort your shit out, because trust me,"
He grinned conspiratorially at them
"If you don't this place will eat you for breakfast."
He stood for a few seconds watching them all, gauging their disparate reactions. Some of the Marines looked a little shocked, most had blank stares, but the mercs were all grinning. Ray had heard the pep talk before deploying to a dozen other hostile zones during his time in the military.
"Dismissed."
The Colonel returned to the cockpit and the door shut behind him. The Sergeant however started handing out duffle bags to the passengers.
"This pack contains your re-breather, plate carrier, firearm, and everything else you will need. Place the exopack over your mouth and activate the static seal now, you will have no chance to do so once we touch down."
Ray took his duffle and suited up silently amongst the chatting Marines. The crew chief peeked out of the cockpit cabin and flashed four fingers at the Sergeant, who nodded and turned to the men in the bay.
"Four minutes to touchdown people! Get suited and booted! Once we touch down you will report to Compound C-3 and be assigned quarters!"
***
Ray stood near the center of the room with the rest of the mercenaries, the Marines arrayed about them, talking in low voices. Ray didn't know any of the other mercenaries personally but they were easy to spot, and after jogging to the compound they had wordlessly congregated nodding acknowledgements to one another. Mercing was a business for professionals, not recruits, and Ray could feel silent waves of disdain emanating towards the rowdy jarheads. Another officer appeared and after a round of salutes he began calling out names. Ray's mind drifted.
Hope I don't get bunked with one of these idiots, soldiers don't get much greener than this.
"Specialist, Fletcher, Ray"
Ray edged toward the front of the dwindling crowd and took his Pandoran Security ID tag. The officer consulted a data screen.
"You will be bunking with Private First Class, Keaton, Allen, second floor, room B-7."
"Understood"
Ray gritted his teeth ever so slightly, but decided to reserve judgment for when he actually met the man. He trudged down the corridors and up one flight of stairs, duffle in tow, and hit a green button on a steel doorframe, the words B-7 freshly painted above on the grey bulkhead. The door slid open silently and Ray's blue eyes swept the small room. It was almost cell like. There were two bunks across from each other, identical pairs of lockers, one sink, one trash can and a desk with a lamp squeezed in next to the left bunk, on which was sitting, Ray assumed, Private Keaton. He was a short Marine, brown stubble on his head trimmed neatly and his eyes carrying a boyish sparkle. Ray could tell this was going to be a fucking slog of a tour already. The Marine got up at once and held out his hand, a big smile on his face.
"Hi my names-"
"Don't fucking care. We just sleep here, we're not buddies, or boyos or pals. Got it?"
The Marine looked a little taken aback.
"Hey you don't have to be such a dick, we're in this together."
Ray threw his pack and duffle on the bed and turned to stare at the young soldier.
"You're fresh out of boot aren't you?"
"Well I saw some acti-"
"Yes you fucking are, I knew it. Listen here Caketown, or Keating or whatever the fuck your name is, I am a Mercenary flaming hot off of five consecutive tours of duty, two of them extra-planetary, and none of them police action limp wristed bullshit. I am a killing machine born to rape and pillage in the name of money. And you? You're a chubby shitfaced janitor with a gun. Don't. Come. Near. Me."
"Whatever man."
The Marine shrugged and returned to his bunk. It was a regrettable, but necessary move. Once you made friends in hot zones they usually died, so it was easier to hate most of them, and not get ripped up every time a rebel bullet splattered their brains all over the wall. Ray laid his duffle bag down next to him and opened his personal pack. The inside was stuffed to bursting with cheap cartons of cigarettes. Ray smiled. Give it a month and these suckers would be worth their weight in Unobtainium.
***
Ray fiddled with the optics on his rifle, as the local star Alpha Centuri made its slow path across the sky. The year on Pandora had been uneventful, or as uneventful as a year on this hellish moon could be. He had met the natives only a few times, once as part of an assignment to guard a school teaching them English. That rotation only lasted a few weeks. They were fascinating and more than a little frightening in person, looming over you. Other than a brief incident in which some clawed black jungle beast had almost scalped him, all he had seen of the forest wildlife were scarce glimpses through windswept branches. Perhaps it was his billet. Excavation Site 2 had a reputation for being one of the safest, and usually it was guarded by the greenest soldiers currently on moon, which didn't seem to jive with Ray's considerable record in the armed forces. He pulled another cigarette from the pack nestled in one of his magazine pouches and light it, taking a deep drag of the faux Turkish blend. Behind him massive dozers rumbled back and forth dragging tons of rich ore back to Hell's Gate. Ray glanced impatiently at his watch. It had to be near noon, which meant his shift was due to expire for the day. Sure enough a few minutes later a whistle blew in the command tower and Ray climbed down from his post at the wall. A waiting truck dumped a load of Marines off and whisked Ray's shift back to base, weaving between huge mining vehicles and AMP's along the dirt road.
***
Ray turned the page of the magazine, and then tossed it back into the locker. He knew all of them by heart now, there wasn't much to do around base, and the only recreation area of the compound was fenced off for the Avatar program. The injustice burned him. Here he was, a man risking his life for pay that honestly wasn't all that great, and the only good hoops onsite were reserved for the scientists and their big blue pets.
***
Ray checked another mark into the calendar on his wall. A month and a half into his second year of deployment already.
"Your move."
Dennis sat across from him at a card table where a chessboard was set up. Ray usually didn't play Dennis at chess, mainly because he lost. A lot. Even now Ray's white pieces were beginning to look like a small outpost in a hostile seething sea of black. He shook his head and moved a rook to cover his queen. The door opened and they both looked up. In the doorway stood a SecOps officer, likely a lieutenant but it was not easy to tell.
"Which one of you is Fletcher?"
Dennis raised his hand and Ray punched him playfully.
"Present and accounted for."
The officers stony expression did not waver in the slightest.
"SecOps general staff want to see you. As in right now."
Ray cocked an eyebrow.
"Am I in trouble?"
"Negative, you will be discussing your deployment opportunities."
Ray shrugged at Dennis and followed the officer out of his room and through a series of pressurized hallways to the SecOps compound. They stopped in front of the door to the operations center and the officer turned to Ray.
"They're all waiting for you."
Now THAT made Ray just a little nervous. Brass on Pandora didn't slow down for anything or anyone unless they were either a potential threat or a possible asset. Ray hoped he was on a list of the latter. The door swung to and Ray walked into the room. It was lined with holographic maps and terrain overlay of Pandora. The staff were huddled around a diagram of a tree when Ray entered.
"He says this is support structure, but how could that be possible without augmentation? The loads it would have to bear..."
Ray could hear Quaritch talking back."All I need to know is can you bring it down with a standard HE warhead?"
He stopped when he noticed Ray was standing a few feet away.
"Here's the man I wanted to see! Assuming of course, you are Specialist E-5 Ray Fletcher."
"In the flesh sir."
"Good, good. You're probably wondering why we, or I really, wanted to see you."
"Can't say it hasn't crossed my mind sir."
"You've heard of the Avatar program, am I correct?"
Ray had indeed heard of it. Scientists growing clones of the indigenous Na'vi and remotely piloting them from a control center. The concept was ambitious, but had never really held too much of Ray's attention.
"Yessir"
"I'm going to be straight up about this. We have a soldier in an avatar body giving us bang up Intel on the natives. We're ready to expand an armed avatar recon concept, and I'm asking you if you want to be the second prototype."
"It takes years to grow an avatar body, and I'm not planning on sticking around once my enlistment is-"
"Flash clones"
"Flash what sir?"
"Flash clones. Avatars grown quickly at a reduced cost. We've had one ready for you for the past month."
"Respectfully sir, I thought this was optional."
"Oh it is, certainly. We didn't sink anywhere near the amount of money into these second generation models as the first."
Ray considered it. On the one hand, excitement, and a chance to actually see Pandora. On the other hand this might be a very bad idea and the chance of getting killed skyrocketed.
"I thank you for your offer sir, but I just don't get paid enough for that."
The Colonel grinned
"Hah, I thought you'd say that, which is why we are prepared to quadruple your salary."
Ray's eyelid twitched a little.
"Quadruple? Really?"
Ray was just sidetracking, the colonel had him hook line and sinker.
"Really son. Quadruple."
"In that case I accept."
"Congratulations on your promotion, you are now inducted into the Avatar program, report to the link building for your new assignment."
Ray grinned. A salary like the one he'd just landed was unheard-of, especially in his line of work.
"One more thing. I will debrief you every two weeks starting now at 2200 hours. You will not tell anyone about the debriefing, and while you are tagging along with a research team, you will fulfill certain objectives I give you. You will not inform the scientists of these objectives, they're nosy enough as is."
"Got it sir."
The colonel waved his hand towards a much larger duffle lying on the floor by the door.
"That bag contains all the items you will need, sized to fit an avatar. Dismissed."
***
Ray groaned as he lugged the massive duffle over the tarmac towards the avatar compound, not easy work, especially in an exopack. Alpha Centuri had just crossed the horizon a few hours ago and it's rays were baking into his neck. After dropping off his duffle near the outer hatch, he walked through the airlock and into the link room. It was a circular room with a slightly raised center dais, bristling with data screens and instrument panels, white coated technicians scurrying back and forth. A young black haired woman walked over to him, smiling.
"You must be Fletcher, come on over, you don't have much time to get used to your avatar before the research team gets here."
Ray was lead over to one of the pods and settled in, the cushy gel acclimating to his frame immediately. The tech's disembodied voice came to him through a speaker in his pod.
"Now try to keep still and relax, the first time is always a little weird."
"Wait, what do you me-"
Suddenly Ray was screaming down a tube, colors flashing and whirling around. The pod faded away and the colors were the only thing tying him to this consciousness. Then there was darkness. Ray opened his eyes and looked around. He was in a white room, and an exo-masked face was peering at him and flashing a light into his eyes. Ray blinked once, twice and pushed himself up. After a battery of tedious tests and exercises Ray could walk, talk, run, jump, and do most other tasks with complete confidence.
"Alright Fletcher, we're letting you lose. Just hang around the basketball courts until the rest of the team gets here."
Ray nodded and stepped into the airlock, changing into a set of BDU's and boots he had been provided. The other end of the airlock opened and Ray breathed in fresh Pandoran air for the first time. He retrieved his duffle and opened it, emptying the contents onto the deserted basketball court. The brass had given him an oversized rifle, six magazines, an armor weave plate carrier, a throat mic, a knife, a holster, and a sidearm.
"Nice."
Quaritch had pulled out all the stops for him. Ray suited up and sat on a bench, the morning light feeling a lot less abrasive on his new skin. He brought his new powerful hand up to his face and flexed his fingers. It was a fantastic feeling, being in this body, the one downside being the tail. It was awkward and painful to sit on, and got in the way most of the time. His thoughts were interrupted as the airlock door opened and three other avatars stepped out, two woman and a man, dressed casually in khaki shorts and t-shirts. Ray stood up and walked over to them. A woman stepped forward and held out her hand.
"You must be Ray. I'm Jamie, to my right is Geoff, and over here is Alice."
Alice rolled her eyes.
"Great. I see Quaritch has loaded us up with another liability."
Jamie gave Ray a look up and down.
"I have to agree with Alice, you're carrying a lot of gear for a science mission. Promise me you'll keep your finger well away from the trigger, diplomacy is fragile at this juncture and gunning down any more Na'vi will get you lynched so fast your head won't get the chance to spin."
"Cool your jets, I'm not here to go on a rampage."
Alice snorted
"Coulda fooled me."
Geoff, who was looking a little nervous and generally staying out of the exchange suddenly piped up.
"Our choppers here, lets go."
The twin rotor SA-2 Samson touched down a few yards away, sending loose foliage and dirt flying under its powerful rotor wash. A few minutes later and they were clear of Hell's Gate airspace, zooming just above the lush canopy of the jungle below. Ray could almost reach out and touch the leaves. The aircraft banked and began to descend into the sea of green, the pilot steering for a clearing in the brush. The skids touched down and Rays training kicked in. His rifle scanned the tree line, finger on trigger. Alice jumped out and strolled nonchalantly over to him.
"Your turn to cool it jarhead. If there was danger we'd either be in contact or dead before you got the chance to fire that thing."
Ray lowered the weapon but his muscles didn't unbind themselves an inch. They were in the frying pan now, no two ways about it. Jamie shouldered a pack and motioned for them to follow.
"Settlements about a mile that away."
She pointed down what could only be called a trail in the fact that it seemed to have a minutely smaller amount of underbrush than the other directions. The hike took almost an hour, with Ray on point, pushing through the dense underbrush, and the smaller researchers following in his wake. The foliage thinned as they approached the village, discernable only by distant musical voices drifting through the mostly quiet forest. Finally when Ray was about to collapse and request a break they broke through into the village. There was no underbrush, but the tree density was the same, with houses built into the sides and roots of the behemoths, that, clear of the undergrowth, could be seen growing to fantastic heights, terminating in a huge canopy of leaves that glowed with the noon-day sunlight. An older female villager approached them and began to converse fluently with Jamie. Geoff turned to Ray.
"Look, just hang back, we'll be fine, don't want the villagers to get spooked."
Ray nodded and walked back towards the edge of the encampment, where he sat on a stump and light a cigarette, choking a little as his new lungs got used to the harsh vapor. Jamie and the alien continued to talk, walking deeper into the village as they did so. Ray keyed his throat mic and spoke.
"Baseplate, this is Winchester 2-1 actual, marking location of hostile encampment, look for the beacon, Over."
Quaritch's voice came back over the earpiece.
"Roger that 2-1. Over and out."
Ray reached into his pocket and withdrew a wafer thin chip with a hair-like antenna, which he buried deep into a crack in the stump. The chip beeped once and Ray smiled.
"And that's the ballgame folks."
Ray sensed a pair of eyes on him and turned around. A small blue child was watching him from a few feet away, inquisitive cat-like eyes watching him, head slightly tilted.
"Aynga faheu hiyik!"
Ray cocked an eyebrow at him.
"No habla alien little bro."
Another Na'vi, likely the child's mother, called out from across the village and the child gave him one last look before dashing away.
***
Quaritch was scared. Ray could tell just by looking at him. It was difficult to pick up, but it was there.
"In another week there could be twenty thousand, at which point they will overrun us."
Ray shook his head. How had it come to this? All mining operations outside Hell's Gate had been shut down in light of the traitor PFC Jake Sully and his ragtag army of blue cats. It was ridiculous, a rabble of savages pinning down the most well equipped force ever. Admittedly, they were outnumbered at this point by a ration of 1.5:1, but really, the whole thing was just flat out stupid. After the briefing Quaritch took Ray aside.
"Ray, as of now, you are my only avatar asset left. Half of my science staff are fucking traitors, and the rest are leaning that way. I need you on the ground in case things go wrong for us. Your main objective as of now is to find and kill former Private First Class Jake Sully. They've taken the mobile uplink and hidden it somewhere near the Tree of Souls, where we can't track it. I have a link all warmed up and a chopper on the pad as we speak."
"Yes sir."
Ray grabbed his avatar gear bag and ran as fast as he could manage to the avatar bay. The airlock whooshed open and he saw most of staff including program co-head Max Patel huddled around a video screen.
"Someone's coming, I have to go."
The staff dispersed from the screen a little guiltily, but Ray didn't have time to be suspicious, the shuttle had already taken off, and he needed to be on the ground five minutes ago. He jumped into his link and pulled the lid closed. The staff hurried around to the consoles to make the transfer. Minutes later Ray was in the cockpit of a Samson, pulling back on the stick and easing away from the concrete landing pad. Once he had enough altitude he shifted the stick forward and pushed towards the massive floating chunks of rock in the distance. After a few minutes of flight a voice cam over his throat mic.
"Ray, this is Dr. Max Patel."
Ray frowned and keyed the mic.
"Read you five by five, go ahead Max."
"Look, Ray, I'm not going to bullshit around, what orders did you get from Quaritch?"
"Why do you care?"
"Ray, you might be making a big mistake, it's hard to explain right now bu-"
"Ah yes, the colonel told me there might be traitors."
"Ray, I'm going to ask you one last time, whatever it is Quaritch sent you out to do is crap, this whole thing is going to hell and you don't need to be on the wrong side."
"Fuck you, you lab puke, this IS the winning side, and if you touch that goddamn link I will bleed you like a stuck pig, are we clear?"
Ray heard a sigh over the mic
"Nothing personal Ray..."
"Don't you dare! Don't you fuc-"
And suddenly Ray went limp, his arms convulsing, hands slipping from the controls. He was rushing down a tunnel of light towards something. He caught a hazy glimpse of the inside of a tube and heard raised voices.
"I can't get a fix on his signal, the link is corrupted, he's using one of Quaritch's damn flash clones, I TOLD him this could happen!"
"Stop the transfer, he's going back over again!"
"I'm trying damnit!"
Something was wrong. Light filled his minds eye again and his vision faded to black. Once again he was in a helicopter cockpit, but the scenery outside was spinning out of control, and altitude alarms were blaring. The last thing Ray saw before being knocked out cold was the Low. Alt. button on the master alarm panel flashing desperately. Then it all went black.
***
When Ray came to Alpha Centuri was dropping below the canopy. His vision was hazy and he held a hand in front of his face. Blood. A dark and sickly red dripped down his hand. He must have hit his head in the crash. Slowly he tried to pull himself from the wreckage and out the broken canopy windshield. I took him a long aching quarter of an hour to extract his oversized body. Shakily looking back, Ray saw that some of it was still smoking. He pulled out his knife and cut the black seat cover from the pilots chair, tying it around his head to staunch the bleeding.
"Goddamn it... "
He was totally alone. The forest was dead quiet save for the rushing of a nearby stream. Ray closed his eyes, picked a random direction, and started walking. The minutes blurred into hours, as he pushed through the thick branches and bioluminescent scrub. The forest was coming alight with an unearthly glow. A twig cracked somewhere and he froze, pulling his rifle up to the ready. For a minute he stood, totally still, eyes scanning the brush, long ears hunting for the faintest sound, but there was none. He turned back to continue walking. His feet had only carried him ten paces when out of nowhere a bolas entangled his legs and he fell to the ground.
"Oh crap, what the hell?!?"
Ray ripped of the bolas and jumped to his feet just in time to get a massive blow across the chest from the wooden end of a bow. His rifle flew away from him and he fell backwards onto the grassy ground. Desperately he attempted to cock his pistol but a blue figure pounced him and knocked it out of his hands. Cursing, he tried to counter grab the Na'vi but it was slippery as an eel, dodging his grabs and landing blow after blow. Ray, in serious danger of blacking out again, balled his feet to his chest and kicked out hard. His boots made contact and the alien flew off of him, landing a few feet away. Ray quickly stood up and pulled out his knife, charging headlong towards the Na'vi, who was still pulling herself off of the ground. Moments before his knife tore the offending being to bloody ribbons a second wooden object hit him over the back of the head and he was knocked out cold.
***
Light was filtering through his eyes, which weren't entirely closed. He got up and stretched. Or at least tried to, and then almost tripped over the thick rope that tied his ankle to the small tree behind him.
"This is not good..."
His shirt, plate carrier and weapons were lying a few yards away on a large stump, and as he felt his pockets, he realized they were empty. There seemed to be no one around. Franticly Ray fiddled with the knot, but it was no use, the tangle seemed to bend back on itself over and over again. He tried gnawing on it with his teeth, but it tasted horrible and he soon gave up. Looking around in a mild panic he spotted a small stick of wood. He grabbed it and spent the next five minutes attempting to sharpen in with a rock. The resulting edge was crude, but the rope frayed and broke under Ray's frantic strokes. Ripping the vine off of his boot, he ran over and put on his gear as fast as possible. He was just putting the rifle sling over his neck when he heard soft footsteps approaching the camp. Quickly he dove behind a tree and pulled a large fern frond over himself, and slowly peeked out at the clearing. Two female Na'vi emerged from the brush and Ray recognized one of them from the struggle the other night. The other must have been the one that knocked him out. His head gave a remorseful twinge where the unyielding wood of the hometree had hit an already tender scalp. One of the two was holding a satchel, which she dropped upon seeing the broken vine lying next to the stump. It burst open and berries rolled onto the forest floor. The other female, whom Ray recognized, began searching the dirt around it, and started walking straight towards Rays hiding spot.
"Oh fuck, my footprints."
Ray decided the situation was untenable whatever the outcome. Best just to make a go of it. He burst to his feet suddenly and pointed his standard issue rifle at the two hunters.
"Hold it right there!"
The Na'vi closest to him froze at the sight of the gun, a look of terror on her face. The far Na'vi who had dropped the satchel notched an arrow in the blink of an eye. They all stood there for a half a minute or so, neither side knowing quite how to resolve the standoff. Finaly the Na'vi closest to Ray seemed to gather her courage and speak.
"We mean no hurt, please lower your weapon."
"Yeah and what, you shoot me full of arrows, right? I'm not stupid you know!"
"You were trespassing on our lands, dreamwalker. The price for that is steep."
Ray started backing up slowly, weapon still raised.
"And you held against his will an employee of the Resource Development Administration, I could blow you all away and no one would bat an eye!"
The Na'vi with the bow laughed.
"The sky people have all gone, little skxawng, your threats fall like water on stone."
Ray stopped.
"What are you talking about, we won!"
"Ho, Pamtseo'Ite, this uniltìranyu has a strange idea of winning."
The Na'vi closest to Ray took a step towards him.
"Your people left aboard a ship, only a few remain with the Omaticaya."
Rays jaw dropped.
"No... You're not serious? But we didn't..."
His mouth floundered for words, and the Na'vi with the bow let out a peal of laughter to which the one called Pamtseo'Ite motioned at her to hush.
"We only wished to take you to see our eyktan, and decide what to do about you."
Ray's eyes dimmed, and he let his weapon fall back on its sling.
"Fine, whatever, doesn't really matter now anyway. The ships gone, I'm stuck in this godawful jungle, do whatever you like."
"Follow me."
In a bit of a daze Ray walked after her, the other Na'vi slipping into file behind him warily.
***
It was almost morning the next day when they arrived at a break in the trees. Even in his sleep deprived and exhausted state Ray marveled at the huge arches of rock that curved high above their heads. Pamtseo'Ite turned to him.
"We are very close now to the tree of souls. You will rest here and come nightfall you will be judged before Eywa."
They continued to walk down the gentle slope until Ray could see it. It was even more impressive in person. A huge willow-like tree towered out of a depression in the land, columns of rock zigzagging in massive arcs above it, hundreds of Na'vi were camped around it, working, playing, and signing in high clear voices that chilled Ray to the bone. They continued towards a large tree near the edge of the clearing, around them Na'vi stopped and stared at the strange dreamwalker in his hard shell of armor. Pamtseo'Ite stoped at the roots and spoke to Ray.
"You will hand over your weapons and armor over, and you will wait here until called for"
Silas pulled the armor carrier off and threw it on the ground, followed by his holster containing his pistol. Pamtseo'Ite once again tied him to a stump, and held out her hand. Ray looked up at her innocently.
"What?"
Pamtseo'Ite stared at him stonily.
"Okay, okay."
Ray fished in his pocket and tossed the sheathed knife to her. The few Na'vi standing around started to disperse and Ray light a cigarette.
***
Ray's mind lay dormant in a deep dreamless sleep. Something was poking him. He brushed it away. It poked again, this time harder.
"Ow!"
Ray woke with a start and stood up. It was night and a gently smiling Pamtseo'Ite was poking him with her bow.
"Time to wake, you are to be judged. What is your name, so I may call you something besides sky-person."
"Ray. Ray Fletcher."
"Ray'Fleytchur."
She repeated his name, rolling the words off of her tongue. Her odd inflection brought a wry smile to Ray's face.
"Close enough."
Her expression grew more serious.
"Traditionally you would be judged by the spirit leader and the leader of the Omaticaya, but JakeSully and Neytiri are attending to other duties. I will be the spirit judge."
She led Ray down a path into the heart of the clearing. Two guards with bows flanked them and stood at the lower dais as Ray and Pamtseo'Ite climbed the steps toward the tree's glowing fibers, blowing gently in the Pandoran breeze. Pamtseo'Ite knelt and motioned Ray to do the same. Then she reached behind him and put his queue against the tendrils, and small white fibers curled around them. She followed suit.
And then Ray felt it. A presence like soft silk and warm rain push itself into his mind, or was he in it's? It was impossible to tell. He could hear Pamtseo'Ite's voice, but not with his ears. She was speaking in Na'vi, and he could not make out her meaning. Then the presence spoke and it's words echoed inside Ray's mind.
"Ray Fletcher. You bear a great burden."
Images were flashing in front of his eyes. His parents, shot dead, lying on cold pavement, an ever expanding pool of blood staining their clothes as metro police tugged him gently away from their corpses, the gunman being hauled off, ranting and shouting to the night air.
"Yet you caused burdens greater still than your own. You took revenge on the world."
He was in Guatemala, holding a young militant by the throat, a long knife creeping nearer and nearer to his neck. Then he was in the sub-Sahara, shooting at armed locals under the grating sunlight, some falling, other dragging their comrades back into huts and firing wildly at their convoy. Then he was in the city, a rioter no older than twenty trembling and trying to bring a heavy rifle to bear on him. He laughed and gunned her down in a hail of caseless ammunition. Picture after picture, scene after scene. Devastation, violence, his entire career as a mercenary stretched before his own eyes. Then, as suddenly as they came, the images stopped.
"You have become twisted. A mockery of what you once were. Your mind is cold and detached. If there is any hope of redemption or reconciliation, it must come from you. For without that, you are beyond even my help."
Ray became aware that he was sitting , arms crossed over legs, tears streaming down his face for the first time in years. He felt like a child. Lost and alone. He looked up and saw Pamtseo'Ite untangling her queue. She looked into his haunted eyes and shook her head in sadness.
"Why do you sky people do this? Lock away emotion, and let it tear at you like a caged beast."
Ray stood and turned to leave.
"Wait."
Ray stopped.
"What? You saw the real me. The choice is obvious. You can save your breath."
Pamtseo'Ite stood and walked around to face him.
"I will help you."
Thanks for reading, hope it wasn't too awful!