A Sense of Worth
With roaring engines echoing off the grey buildings and tarmac; creating a hurricane of sound, the Valkyrie shuttle slowly rose off the landing pad and into the air. The last of the RDA employees were safely inside, having had anything remotely dangerous confiscated; they weren't going to be coming back for some time.
The shuttle began its ascent into the clouds and away into the atmosphere, the Na'vi nearby finally removed their hands from desperately trying to cover their ears as it disappeared into the humid sky. Jake watched the shuttle go and finally the elation that they had actually defeated the RDA, SecOps and Quaritch hit him. He was astonished by what had happened; they hadn't had to try to siege the compound or break in, which would have led to terrible casualties. Selfridge had declared that they would fight to the last man when Jake offered him terms of surrender, and Jake had almost lost heart at those words. It would be another, even worse massacre as the automatic guns along the fence-line picked out targets and shot them down more efficiently than any human could do. Even without ninety percent of the mercenaries Jake would be hard pressed to breach the defences.
Instead, as they prepared to attack, Jake had received a call in the newly repaired link centre in the jungle. A Major Anderson had spoken to him, accepting his conditions of surrender, and when Jake asked about Selfridge, Anderson had simply replied, 'He won't be a problem any more.' Jake had since found out that Anderson, who was next in line to succeed Quaritch's replacement, who had been killed in the battle, had discovered something about Selfridge. Selfridge had issued the orders to fight, keeping the second Valkyrie shuttle prepped for immediate evacuation of specific personnel; namely himself. The Major had arrested Selfridge, despite his name being on the list Selfridge had written for evacuation, and thrown the cowardly man into a holding cell while he negotiated a truce with Sully over a com link.
Jake had met Major Anderson on the tarmac as the Na'vi dropped from the sky and flooded through the gates, he was wary of a trap; so far he only had the man's word but he had no other choice. Anderson turned out to be a large, dour man who took himself seriously and was intelligent enough to realise they had got off lightly. He had been there in the Control Room, watching the screens as the thermal imaging satellites followed Quaritch and SecOps towards the Na'vi stronghold. The huge screens had shown up the Valkyrie, Dragon and escorts as yellow dots swarming across the blue background of the Hallelujah Mountains. Then a mass of red and white had bloomed across the screens as the Na'vi appeared in numbers. James Anderson had watched as Selfridge's face fell and confusion broke his easy smile; the screens were hard to interpret if you didn't know what to look for. However, the over-confident smile had returned as the mass broke up and the attack obviously fell apart. The Valkyrie and the Dragon Gunship were neigh untouchable, but more than a few of the escort Samsons and Scorpions were small white dots, burning on the ground.
They couldn't communicate with the attack force due to the flux vortex, but Anderson could count the remaining escort and there were more than enough to make it the last few klicks to the stronghold. He could feel the tension in the air as they approached the 'Tree of Souls', the ridiculous tree that seemed to be the centre of their entire culture. Suddenly the mass of red dots; hundreds if not thousands of Na'vi appeared again, and several gasps went through the room. Anderson only frowned; the Na'vi were more prepared than they had thought, obviously they had hidden a secondary force from the satellites, but why leave it so late?
Suddenly a huge white mass bloomed on the map and Selfridge was beside himself shouting, 'Yes! We've done it! We got 'em!'
But the others had gone silent.
Anderson felt he should tell Parker, but he couldn't find the words. Instead he pointed out that the 'Tree of Souls' was in fact a klick further to the North. Confusion rushed over Parker's face again, 'What the hell was that then?'
'Sir, I believe we just lost Valkyrie One.'
Then the Dragon too span out of control.
Major James Anderson had stood his ground as the gigantic winged beast dropped down from on high, the wind from its wings buffeting him, but he stood still and let it come. A huge Na'vi warrior stood on its back and leapt down as it crouched on the tarmac, obviously uncomfortable with its surroundings.
Inside, Major Anderson was shaking like a leaf, but he hadn't been promoted to Major for nothing; half of being an officer was acting as though you could do anything, and Major Anderson could have won Oscars. The ornately decorated Na'vi in front of him patted the flying juggernaut on the chin and it closed its eyes lazily, like a dog before he turned away to face the human standing before him.
The Na'vi war-chief towered over him and had every semblance of a vicious savage, apart from the M60 heavy machine gun he had slung across his back like toy.
'Jake Sully?' Anderson asked, his nervousness bottled up inside.
'Major Anderson?' the giant asked, no hint of a Na'vi accent coming through.
'Speaking, I'm here to surrender control of Hell's Gate to you.'
'Good. We're here to take it.' The Na'vi grinned, and suddenly Anderson became aware of just how big their canines were, it was quite an intimidating sight.
Major Anderson unclipped his pistol, and handed it across to the Na'vi who took it with thumb and forefinger, the vicious weapon suddenly looking ridiculous in the creature's huge hands.
Anderson was the last to board the Valkyrie, giving Jake one last piece of advice before he left; 'We'll be back, Mr. Sully. Enjoy it while it lasts, but we will be back. They can't let this go.' With those words he turned and walked away up the ramp.
A grin broke across Jake's face and he turned and whooped to the other hunters, waving his rifle above his head. A storm of cheering broke out across the tarmac as the Avatar team joined in too. Through the window of the control tower he could see Norm, Max and the twelve others who had been allowed to stay behind shouting and laughing.
Neytiri ran towards him and jumped into his arms, linking her feet around his waist, he was almost knocked over by the attack but he caught himself and they spun, laughing as the sun finally broke through the clouds.
'Jake, the Sky People, the tawtute, are gone!'
'I know! We are free!'
They both laughed and then he pulled her in close, their lips met and they kissed passionately; uncaring of the normal social etiquette.
The flight back to the Tree of Souls was uneventful, a handful of hunters had been left behind to guard the tribes and those who had ikran met them in the air, calling questions and whooping loudly. The remaining humans would stay at Hell's gate for the time being, later they would make plans for the future. Jake and Neytiri had a quiet flight back on Toruk, hardly talking, though it was not as though they could easily on the back of the giant beast. The wind, Neytiri trying to balance on an animal she had no control of and possibly, maybe, a slight reluctance. They hadn't spoken properly since Jake had dropped out of the sky on the back of Toruk and been proclaimed Toruk Makto. From then on it had been too petty: they had brought the clans together, planned a defense and won a great victory. Too much had happened and Jake knew they would have to talk at some point. There was a lot to set straight.
Then Jake remembered Anderson's last words, they weren't a threat, Anderson wasn't that kind of man, "We'll be back, Mr. Sully. Enjoy it while it lasts, but we will be back." After those words he had thought about those they had lost, and he hoped it would never have to happen again, the faces of those who had died past him in the air: Trudy, smiling and laughing at the awe on their faces; Eytukan, serene and proud as he placed his hands on Jake's shoulders; Tsu'tey, who had turned from hateful enemy to noble brother; the hundreds of others who had died at his command, he had walked the rows of the dead before they were taken away for burial and their faces were burnt into his mind.
He had hope though; that he could re-forge some kind of relationship with Neytiri from the ruins he had made, she had already given him reason but he knew that hard times were ahead. The look on her face when he landed at the Tree of Souls had been amazing; to him it felt as though every effort he had ever made in life was being rewarded when she looked at him across the crowd of awed Na'vi. His heart had leapt when she had approached him, adrenaline coursing through his veins, but an odd sense of calm had settled over him. He didn't feel like the same guy who had fallen from a direhorse so many times he had lost count, the guy who missed all of the most obvious signs in tracking a hexapede, or even the guy who had raced Neytiri thousands of feet down a cliff face on their ikran. He felt almost empty, devoid of emotion; his mind focused on the task at hand.
The crowd had parted and he had met Neytiri, she had gazed at him in the silence created by his presence and whispered, 'I see you… I was afraid, Jake, for my people.' She had made excuses! It hadn't felt right, after all he had put her through; he had smiled and he had hoped that there would be time for words later. He had caressed her cheek to reassure her that it would be alright, but then he had had to pursue his main objective; saving the Na'vi.
He had made mistakes, but it seemed Neytiri was willing to try again. He hoped with all his might he could forge something from the ruins he had created.
They swept down through the flying arches around the Tree of Souls, Neytiri clutching onto his shoulders; Mo'at was there, along with hundreds of the Na'vi people, the tribes mixing as one great nation. The honour guard of all the warriors who had been supervising at Hell's Gate swooping down behind them; it must have been an amazing sight. They landed and he dismounted, helping Neytiri down then he turned and stroked the huge ridge above Toruk's sulphurous eyes and patted him, then he released tsahaylu with the massive beast. Taking Neytiri's hand they walked down the corridor that opened before them through the crowd, and Jake felt that odd sense of déjà vu as Toruk stretched behind them and made himself comfortable. They reached the dais on which Mo'at stood and he looked up at her, 'Speak Jakesully.' Was all she said, gesturing to the platform as she stepped down; honouring him. He stepped up to take her place, and turned around. There was absolute silence. He couldn't bear having every eye on him and he reached out to Neytiri, I need you, beside me, was all he thought and she seemed to understand. She stepped up to the platform and stood just behind him.
He looked out over the crowd, and took a deep breath, picking his words; Tsu'tey wasn't here to translate.
'The sky people have left our lands.'
Cheering erupted everywhere, the noise was deafening. Warriors shouted from the ledges, children danced and women shouted praises to Eywa, banshees screamed on the ledges as though they too were celebrating. Jake raised his arms for silence, but to no avail, the noise seemed like it would last forever. Eventually Toruk became agitated with all the cheering for he roared and everything became still again.
'The sky people have left, but we bear our own sorrows,' He was thinking of Tsu'tey and the hundreds of warriors who had been killed in the battle, the numbers of pa'li among the tribes had been devastated and their would be many who would have to choose whether to take Iknimaya again to find another ikran.
'There are many who we will not see again, those who gave their lives to defend their homes, those who died bravely to answer our call. I honour them.'
There were tears among those in the crowd as they remembered fathers, brothers and sisters who had died in the final battle against the RDA. Jake paused to give them time to remember and then he went on, 'But we must rebuild our homes, return to our lives and live as they would have lived, in freedom and with grace. May Eywa bless those who have died and help us to rebuild our lives.'
He paused again, wondering what to say next.
'I declare two days of mourning for those who have departed to the embrace of Eywa, however, in four days, four days from now, in this place we will celebrate our victory and a hope for new life!'
Cheering erupted again, a storm that wouldn't be stopped if ten or even twenty Toruks were roaring at them.
'Are you saying that I could truly be one of The People?' Jake was astounded at what Mo'at had just suggested and was having trouble understanding her more complex Na'vi. He lapsed into English, 'That I could transfer my consciousness, um… spirit into this body permanently?'
'Yes,' Mo'at said rather gravely, 'You would pass through the Eye of Eywa and become truly one of the people. As Grace would have done.'
Jake stood their with his mouth agape, Neytiri watched him hopefully, and Mo'at conveyed no expression whatsoever on her entirely impassive face.
'I… I dunno… I need to talk to a couple of people; to you Neytiri.'
'We need an Olo'eyktan, a leader, Jake.'
'I… I what!' his head whipped round and he now stared at Neytiri.
'We need a leader.'
'I…I'm not…'
'You have already proven yourself to be a great tsam'eyktan, a war-leader, is it so surprising?' interjected Mo'at.
'I need to talk to Neytiri about this.'
'Very well. The other clan leaders believe you would be the right choice, Awkey of the Plains and Ti'rani of the Eastern Sea, are particularly supportive. But believe you me; you would lead the Omaticaya well.'
'I need to talk to Neytiri first.'
'Very well, I will ask again in the morning, I hope you will have made your decision by then. Kiyevame, Toruk Makto. Eywa ngahu.' She left them there and walked out of the shelter, into the night.
Jake looked at Neytiri and found her already watching his reaction, eyes wide; curious and concerned.
'I can't do this, Neytiri. I've brought nothing but war and pain to your people.'
'They are your people now, Jake.'
'No, I'm still just another grunt with some crazy ideas.'
Neytiri gently reached out for and took his hand, 'Not any more, my Jake, you are so much more; you have changed.' She whispered, 'let me show you.'
She had her queue in her other hand and she brought it near to where his hung down his chest, he took his own and met hers. The nerve endings twitched and then wrapped around each other.
They both sighed at the ecstatic pleasure which ran through their bodies and they wrapped their arms around each other, pressing their foreheads together; engaged in each others minds. There was no need to speak now. Their hearts beat in rhythm and he could feel her pressing against him, and him against her.
Images flashed before their eyes, Neytiri's memories: Jake blundering through the jungle with a crude spear, Jake falling from a direhorse, Jake trying to fire his bow correctly, Jake fighting his ikran. The images began to change slightly and he felt the love they conveyed, Jake swimming in the fluorescing river below the waterfall, Jake's first flight, his first kill, Jake standing straight and tall with his bow bent back and an arrow ready to fire: a true warrior. They changed again, an awed feeling emanating from Neytiri: Jake swooping out of the sky on Toruk, Jake grim-faced and dour looking at Grace's body, Jake in his full wargear, facepaint, necklaces and bow, 'This…THIS IS OUR LAND!'.
His voice echoed through the mind, and he felt again the surge of adrenaline that had flooded him, he knew where they stood. Neytiri had shown that despite everything, she was still desperately in love with him, as he was with her.
'Jake, do you know how many people have become Toruk Makto since the time of the first songs?'
'You said I was the sixth.' He wondered what she was trying to say now.
'Do you know how many people have tried to become Toruk Makto?'
'Six?' He hazarded.
'In inglisi numbers: over one of you hundreds.'
He looked down at her, confused, 'What…what happened to the others?'
'They failed… Clans have lost leaders, good hunters and warriors. And we only know of the people who have said they would try to become Toruk Makto.'
She let this thought sink in, 'Most are killed trying to… attempt such a feat. What do you feel when you bond to Toruk?'
He thought about it and paused for a moment, 'It's not like an ikran or pa'li… I don't feel like I'm completely in control. It's more like… like I suggest things, and Toruk acknowledges me… more like…' He struggled for a moment, 'Like we're partners, he seems interested in me… almost amused. He liked the fight with the RDA, he gets annoyed by the noisy kunsip, he thought it was a good hunt.'
'Almost all people will never be able to bond with another creature apart from ikran and pa'li; they get wild, angry. If someone tried to bond to angtsik it would charge around, or any other creature it would try to get away. Ikran and pa'li can bond because it benefits both; Na'vi gets a mount and pa'li gets sheltered and protected, ikran gets fed well even when it cannot find something to hunt. Toruk does not need a rider, or anything else. Toruk is mighty.'
He could feel her awe again, rising like a wave through the bond.
'You still don't know me. Look.'
He sent his own memories through the bond: Tom and himself playing ball in the garden, a grey lifeless city on a grey, lifeless planet, recruitment at an army HQ, shooting targets on the practise range, guarding a water refinery in the desert, running through the jungle with bullets whipping through the leaves, watching bullets punch through a young Venezuelan militant, others militants running screaming until his hail of bullets cut them down, watching the grenade roll in slow motion to his feet, pain…Tom lying there, not moving in a cardboard crate.
Quaritch's first speech: 'We have an indigenous population called the Na'vi…they are very hard to kill.' The terror of running from a Thanator. The disappointment of waking up in his human body each night. The beauty of Pandora, the forest, the sky, the people. Neytiri's angry face as he tried to follow her. Neytiri's impatient looks as he failed again and again to learn anything. Neytiri's hatred and pain as she screamed, 'You will never be one of the people.'
He felt her flinch against him, and then hug him tighter.
The feeling of being called a traitor to his own race and the people he was desperately trying to help. The sheer feeling of despair as he watched the light go out in Grace's eyes…
He stopped there and opened his eyes, Neytiri had tears streaming down her face and she looked up at him.
'Jake. You don't understand; you didn't give up. When you called, the people answered, the forest answered; Eywa answered. This is why you should be Olo'eyktan; you know how it feels to be outside of it all, you know how much all of this is worth.'
A/N: Hope you like it! Review please!
Merry Christmas!