Mankind had reached out from its home like a tentacled beast, sending out great starships across the infinite starry expanse. So many thought of it as a new frontier, an expedition to some mystical unknown lands, but Jake knew it for what it really was. For all the science and knowledge of man, they couldn't see the obvious. Humans were bailing out of their own world like rats jumping into the ocean, instinctively escaping the certain death of a sinking ship, one whom they had wounded so grievously. They were lifelines cast into the depths of space searching for an answer, for a rescue. The answer wasn't in some super-conducting rock either.

So many Na'vi looked up to the skies in wonder, now perhaps with a touch of fear, for this was the domain of the Sky People now. Jake kept his eyes on the ground now, he wanted nothing more to do with the world of high technology. Oh, certainly there had been stories of men in older days, frontiersman who had lost that final remnant of civilization and gone native. There had been a certain romanticism to that in the holo-movies even in his day. But Pandora was different. Ultimately men needed technology to understand the world around them. The Na'vi didn't. Why build airplanes when you could bond with an ikran? Why construct great skyscrapers when the trees here dwarfed anything men had ever seen? What need was there for computers when the entire ecosystem was aware of itself? Pandora not only didn't want the machines, the world truly didn't require them for anything.

That was what Neytiri had meant when they had first met. Men just didn't see like the Na'vi could, though he was living proof that mankind could learn. Maybe it had been his disappointment with life on Earth or maybe it was just as Grace had said it, his head was just empty. Whatever it was, Eywa had seen it in him and for that he was ever grateful. Even now he felt the lifeforce around him, a dim connection, like whispers on the wind, just on the edge of comprehension. Every day brought some fresh realization about this place, some new awareness, so much stronger since he had joined with his Avatar permanently.

"Sky People have many powers." He told the curious children before him. Teaching had never been his thing, but like the leadership of the tribe, it was forced upon him. Yet, like everything else this planet burdened him with, he found himself uniquely suited to the task. Maybe this is why people had gone native in the distant days of Earth's past. Every day was a new challenge, the forest demanded it, Eywa asked it of him.

"But so little patience..." he continued.

"The dreamwalker is patient." The child answered, referring to Norm, trudging about in his rebuilt Avatar. Hope Station didn't have the equipment to create an Avatar from scratch, only Earth-bound labs had that kind of manpower and equipment. But Norm and his team didn't have to start from nothing and without corporate supervisors, they could do so much more. Much of the old body had been intact and repairing the wounds was much easier than they had expected. It was fortunate, Norm rather liked this body.

"He has learned. Sky People can learn." Jake answered. "But enough for today." The children scampered off to the alcoves in their new home. It wasn't as large or imposing as Hometree, but it would do, and like Hometree, it would grow more over the centuries. As the children disappeared into the massive tree, Norm approached, his new Avatar still bearing the marks of the nutrient connectors in the program vats. Obviously he had rushed the process a little. So the dreamwalker was not so patient, after all. Jake smiled.

"Hey Norm."

"Hey Jake. I was just thinking, could you imagine Grace seeing this? Not only accepted by the Omaticaya, but elevated as their leader?" Norm asked, his voice full of wonder.

"I think a part of her does see it. Don't ask me how." Jake answered. Maybe that's why Eywa seemed to have developed a rather cynical side lately. Yes, the lifeforce most certainly had her moods.

"Maybe so. Guess I'd like to think so." Norm continued wistfully. "Look, I've got a request."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Okay, so maybe I'm just the nerd scientist, or whatever. But I want to go through the rituals, like you did." Norm's voice grew more determined with each breathe. "I mean not exactly what you did. That 'transfer to the avatar' thing was way too permanent for me. But the rest... I mean that flying around on an ikran stuff looks fun."

"Fun, but dangerous. You just fixed that body up. Sure you want to risking it like that?"

Neytiri poked her head out from the tree alcoves, sensing something going on. How does she do that? Jake thought, shaking his head. Their connection was something he was still getting used to, but Eywa how good it felt, that warmth he felt in his heart every time she spoke, every time he saw her face or felt her near. By comparison the bonds between human couples were so weak. Once mated, the bond was almost impossible to break, though he felt something of what it must be like for that to happen. His heart had wrenched with something so powerful it made his human body physically sick when Quaritch had burned Hometree and killed Neytiri's father. Rejection had flowed from her, hitting his heart like a jackhammer. Even thinking of that moment, when Hometree lay burning, Eytukan lay dying and his heart lay broken brought such an intense pain forward it made him shiver.

A hand on his shoulder reminded him that had passed. Jake's mind was still in chaos. It had been one thing to be human, thinking with a human mind, projecting into an alien body. It was another thing entirely to be doing all of the thinking in that body too.

"If I could do it, I'm sure you can, Norm. But it's not up to me." Jake laughed.

"What, I thought you were their leader now?"

"Sure, but you're still looking at it like this is a human tribe. Anything I say is more like a strong suggestion, not some kind of law." Jake had noticed the way many in the Omaticaya would intentionally disregard his 'suggestions,' especially if he told them not to do something. In fact, he was quickly learning that Na'vi leaders lead by example more than by fiat. If the leader is doing it, well then it must be good for the rest of the tribe too. Eywa if only human leadership had accepted such a concept.

"Nor-men wishes to become Omaticaya?" Neytiri cocked her head slightly, giving Norm's avatar a brief once over. "Another dreamwalker?"

"Yeah. Hey, I speak the language..." said Norm quickly, working it like a sales pitch. "I would be honored to be a part of the Omaticaya." He exclaimed in Na'vi.

"So was I. Even Grace said you were too formal." Jake replied mockingly. Though he hadn't studied the language anywhere near as long as Norm, after months of living among them, his understanding of how it was truly spoken was at least as good.

"Well I didn't stick around here to spend all day at Hope Station. Much better name than Hell's Gate, by the way, isn't it?" Norm's excitement was child-like.

"If Nor-men wishes for the trials we should give them." Neytiri answered simply. She usually carried the mood of the clan, and for all intents and purposes she was the real leader here. If she had accepted the idea the others would too. In theory the clan system was patriarchy, but in practice, it was the matriarch who was usually in control of things, day-to-day. It was something Jake was all to relieved to learn.

"Be careful what you wish for..." Jake warned. "It wasn't easy."

"Nothing worth doing ever is." Norm replied simply.

"You brought a chopper, right?" Jake asked. A few of the Samsons had been disarmed and preserved for the scientists to use. They weren't exactly fighter pilots anyway, in fact Norm was about the only one who showed any sort of proficiency at all.

"Yeah."

Trudy cursed. It felt good to let loose a steady stream of invective, even if only she could hear it. Fuck the corporate pukes. Fuck the mercenaries who'd slaughter anyone for buck. And most of all, fuck this goddamned forest. To the Na'vi, this might all be sacred ground, but everything here wanted to make a meal out of any humans unfortunate enough to be hanging around. Were it not for her sidearm and the good fortune of stumbling on the damaged off-site avatar container, she'd already be meat in some damn thing's stomach. Had it been three nights? Four? Her emergency rations were gone (fuck those were hard to eat with a damned exopack mask), and her water was just about gone too. The radio was busted up and useless and she had no idea how to contact anyone. There was a busted up AMP suit outside, but the wreck's power cells were damn near empty. The only thing useful there was Quaritch's dead body; it hadn't lasted a night before the local wildlife took care of that particular mess.

It certainly didn't help that she was burnt and bleeding from the crash either. The missile had detonated directly on a rotor, blowing it up in spectacular fashion but leaving the air frame mostly intact, twirling towards the ground at high speed. She supposed she couldn't completely hate the damnable forest, the trees had saved her ass big time. But that didn't matter if she just got eaten instead. For the second time in the last few days, she could hear the distant sounds of rotors. Friendly or enemy, she did not know. For that matter, she had no idea who won the damned battle in the first place. Fear that the Company had won and would be looking for her drove her to hunker down in the wreckage of the portable trailer, but she had already decided she'd build a signal fire anyway. She supposed if she were a Na'vi, she'd just monkey about the trees and be on her way. If only it were that easy.

Still, she felt no regrets about what she had done, going up against the Company and all. People were people, blue and ugly as sin or not. No one deserved to be slaughtered for rocks, except maybe that asshole Quaritch. That dipshit, she would have happily slaughtered for a fucking sandwich. Too bad he was already dead, probably digesting in some predator's gullet. Good for you, Quaritch you asshole, you amounted to a pile of crap on an alien planet, she thought acidly. She rummaged for everything remotely burnable, tossing it into a huge pile outside the container. The steady stream of vitriol coming out of her mouth would have offended an old Earth sailor.

As rotor sounds echoed in the distance, Trudy lit up the pile of debris, a rapidly rising plume of smoke from burning rubber, wood and God knows what extending far above her. On a natural planet like Pandora, this was one hell of a way to make an impression. If this had been Earth, planting a fucking a tree would have helped more than smoke. If there was one reason she had left that cesspit of a planet, it was just that. She was sick of a planet so ass backwards its native population had to put on a rebreather on a bad fallout or smog day. Who the hell figured fighting on your own turf with nukes was a good idea, anyhow? Oh... they were small nukes, the Internet reports went, they were Tactical nukes, not weapons of mass destruction. As if a hundred Hiroshimas and enough fallout to bring about a partial nuclear winter was "small." The Na'vi might not be the brightest bulbs in the universe, but there was no way they could be dumber than starship full of humans.

A Samson chopper appeared over the treetops, hovering just over the treetops her as she waved repeatedly. Obviously the pilot over there was suspicious, which meant it was probably friendly. After all, most of the bodies around here were Company people, buried in melted scrap. A brief pang of loss registered in the back of her mind somewhere. Her beloved chopper was a pile of melted scrap. Only a pilot could explain the attachment formed to a favorite aircraft.

The pilot overcame his reluctance and came out into the open, hovering over the grass in the clearing as Jake's avatar form leaped off the deck. She let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. After seeing Quaritch's body she had hoped the battle turned in their favor, but now she finally had proof. If Jake was operating his avatar, it wasn't from here... so it had to be from Hell's Gate. That meant the base had fallen. Well, she wouldn't shed any tears over that shithole.

"About time. You were just going to leave me out here?" Trudy demanded.

"We thought you were dead. We saw your chopper blow up..." Jake protested. A smile crept onto his face as he ignored the urge to hug the pilot (that would probably kill her). "Damn, it's good to see you. Thank Eywa you're still breathing."

"Yeah, Yeah, so I didn't blow up, just got burned, cut, bruised and starved. Is this your handy work?" Trudy asked, pointing to the AMP suit and the bloody, torn seat where Quaritch had been.

"Neytiri's actually. "

"Tough bitch." Trudy admired. "Who's flying that thing?"

"Norm. He's still learning, though." Jake added as the chopper landed and the rotors spun down.

"Get out, this is my baby now." Trudy glared at the oversized avatar body, barely able to fit in the cockpit. Even then, a seat had been pulled out and the controls rigged with larger knobs. Damn, how that must be awkward, she thought. "Why don't you go get yourself one of those dragons or something?"

"Not now. There's a lot more I have to learn first." Norm chimed in as he hastily clambered out of the cockpit, hitting his head twice. "Nice to see you too, by the way." He added as he ducked through the door and out of the cockpit. Trudy's annoyance with the reconfigured controls was evident in her fearsome scowl and somehow she just didn't quite look right without her sunglasses. Outside twilight was just beginning to creep up over the horizon and a sudden thought struck her. She didn't want to be responsible for a pair of useless, empty bodies.

"Jake, when are you all doing the sleep'n'switch?" She asked. Jake looked beseechingly at Norm.

"Uh uh. No way. You're explaining that." Norm replied, adding to the pilot's confusion...