angel.

Five years in Cryosleep. Three months awake on the starship. Two days in Hell's Gate.

I'd calculated it time and time again…one-thousand-nine-hundred-and-seventeen days. 1,917 days since I started my new life. In this life there was no threat of death by crazy scientists or robots, no fighting for my life…but it also meant no Max, Fang, Iggy, Gazzy, or Nudge. Downside.

Brightside: Being chosen for the Avatar Program at such a young age. I was ten when I signed up. It'd taken calls to Itex, calls to Jeb–my "legal guardian" as far as the RDA was concerned–and a series of tests (not to mention hours of link simulation sessions) to make sure I was ready for such a difficult and dangerous task.

When you train for linking, you log hours that you spend controlling a human hologram and making it do simple day-to-day tasks, unless you get assigned for the more heavy-duty training; then you have to maneuver a human avatar around a simulated Pandora and try not to get killed.

On my first day at Hell's Gate I'd gotten some pretty strange looks from the soldiers and officers working the base. I'd been asked thirteen times if I'd stopped growing altogether when I was fourteen. People had thought I was someone's daughter; a few people went as far as to think I was Selfridge's kid.

Luckily some people on base had a clue that I was in the Avatar Program and escorted me to the link center to meet Dr. Augustine and prep for my first full link.

On my lunch break on the 1,917th day in the Avatar program I sat in front of a web-cam, my head tilted to the left, the little green LED blinking to signify that it was recording. Grace stood behind the camera, arms folded and looking expectantly at me. She called me a prodigy. She had no clue what I was capable of that allowed me to join up so young, so she attributed it to intellect – which I had – and a fast way of learning. I reached out and adjusted the camera so the nearby screen showed my face in a better angle.

"Are you going to talk or not?" Grace quipped.

I looked up, nodded, and began to speak to the camera, "Day Two on Pandora. Location: Link Center. Name: Angela Dorothy Ride," I looked to Grace and gave her a 'shoo' expression. "Things are going alright for my first week, I guess. Not anything exciting to report. Not that anyone cares…"

"Don't be so negative, boys don't like that!"

Again I looked at Grace, this time embarrassed, "I don't think I'll be fetching any guys while I'm on Pandora"—

"People don't like negative thinkers," she clarified for me, giving me a wise look.

"Well people don't usually like me anyway," I retorted with a small mimic of my supervisor, thinking of the last few months I spent on Earth. The dislike was very prominent. I turned my attention back to the camera, "Don't think I'll…I mean…I just…I hope that I have an adventure here." I reached over and turned the camera off. I exhaled, drooped my head, and lifted it up again, "Well, that was awkward."

max.

"Holy shit!"

My body was pinned to the mat in the combat training center. I was gasping for air. On top of me was a former ensign that I'd gone through BS with a long time ago. He was wiry, tan, brown-eyed, and sweaty. He stepped back and straightened up, dusting off his hands. "You see, ladies? You cannot take this training and forget it the moment you step off the shuttle on Pandora. If you do, this planet will shit you out dead in two minutes—ten if you're lucky."

I finally caught my breath and stood up, "Again."

He chuckled, "You sure are a glutton for punishment, Ride."

"No, I just wanna make sure I'm getting it right," I grunted while he charged at me. My body tensed. I leapt into the air as he dove at me, snapping open my wings. He landed on the mat and flipped around to look at me, then froze. Stock-still at the sight of my wings. I landed, pinned him to the mat with my foot, then pulled out the small, unloaded training gun from my pocket and aimed it at him. I made a gunshot noise and mocked firing the gun. "Ya know if we were on Pandora and you were a native gone out of bounds, you'd be dead." I said nonchalantly and slipped the gun back into my pocket.

I was training more for being a soldier than an avatar driver. I would gladly shoot anything that threatened me first. Messed up? Try hearing the details of a guy who was eaten alive by a plant from a bystander. Everything on Pandora was trying to kill you. It was a sad and simple fact of life as an employee of the RDA.

An ensign behind me let out a cry of displeasure, "She's cheating! That's no fair! You can't enter the RDA with advantages like that!"

I turned around and stretched my wings to full length, "Two percentage points less likely to die. That's an advantage? I've had loads more experience. Hell, maybe I'll be in charge of you by the time you get to Pandora!" I spat bitterly, quoting what Selfridge and Falco had said about me over videoconference last week. I rolled my eyes and started to walk out of the combat training center. Three more weeks and I'd be out of this place and deep in Cryosleep.

A redhead soon called out my name and caught up to me. I ignored her as she babbled on about protocol and how I was needed in weapons training before the Avatar Research Facility needed me to show me my avatar. Yeah, my avatar, a five-year-old Na'vi-ified carbon copy of me. But hopefully no wings would grow. It would be a shock to the doctors that such DNA would transfer. Still, it'd be cool…if the wings transferred with proper body to wingspan ratio; I'd have a twenty-foot wingspan.

I went through weapon's training for the day with little emotion. Just aim and fire. Don't shoot anything that you knew wouldn't shoot at you, yadda yadda.

Upon entering the Research Center I was met with two recruits who were about my age, maybe a year or two older. One was tall, lanky, and had a look that screamed, "I got picked on in school!" The other was my height, had a kind face, and was holding a thick book entitled: NA'VI.

The second bumped into me as I tried to walk by. He stumbled back a bit and smiled at me, "Oh, hey, sorry."

My eyebrows rose. No one had apologized for bumping into me in this place. I cleared my throat and shrugged, "No problem. I should've been looking where I was going."

The first boy smirked and punched the second playfully, "Hey Tom, stop oogling her, will you?"

The first one, Tom, punched his friend back, "Back off, Norm! I wasn't oogling her!"

I chuckled, rolled my eyes, and started walking away, "Woow…" I really didn't want to get involved, but it looked amusing. I glanced over my shoulder at them and caught them battling. The book made an impressive thud as it hit the floor. I smirked at them and called, "Don't hurt yourselves!"

More sounds of a scuffle, then a hiss of, "See? You scared her off, Norm!"

Nerds don't change from location to location, I suppose.