AN: I do not own Halo or James Cameron's Avatar.
The next day.
Reach.
Blue team was already making way to the Valkyrie shuttlecraft sent by the RDA to take them to a ship. Also owned by the RDA. The corporation decided it would be better to pick up the Spartans. It would save the UNSC a trip and keep materials and forces at the front lines.
John was bringing an MA5B assault rifle. (From Halo 1. Halo 3 was the MA5C, Reach was the MA37, and 4 was the MA5D.)
Fred was lugging a Spartan Laser.
Kelly had an M90 CAWS DTM series shotgun.
Linda brought an SRS 99 anti-material rifle.
John reasoned that if any, they would only need to bring one weapon, the RDA would have an arsenal for them to pick from for extra weapons once they got there.
"So, this is what the RDA use for their fancy insertions." Kelly said, taking in the massive shuttle.
"It's more for transport to and from the ship and planet." Said Linda.
"You know what I mean."
"Hey. Did you get a look at the RDA's spaceships? They look like a bunch of probes attached to steel." Fred said.
"Yeah, well they're not known for their spacefaring skills. Their ships are for moving, not fighting. They have an impressive arsenal though." Said Kelly.
"It is a GREAT one. I wish we had them." Fred replied.
"Oh we do, we just don't get around to using them." Linda said.
As the Spartans walked up the ramp, an RDA officer welcomed them. "Welcome aboard Spartans, welcome to RDA space air. Man I still can't believe it. Actual Spartans." As they set their weapons and gear down, they found the shuttle had other soldiers on board along with huge cargo boxes. In the middle.
"Hey. Check it out. Is that-?" A merc said.
"Ho-lee shit."
John felt a little edgy having all these eyes watching him and his fellow Spartans settle in. "Okay we're in, pilot get us the hell back to where we came from." The officer said into his radio.
"Yeah yeah hang on."
John and his team sat a few seats away from the RDA SecOps soldiers. Security Operations was the RDA's private army. Former soldiers, rebels, police. Some UNSC marines retired to join their ranks. So John heard.
"I'm not crazy about being alongside these mercenaries. The IMC were more professional compared to these guys." Kelly said.
"Private soldiers." Fred said.
"Is there a difference?" Kelly challenged.
"C'mon Kelly. We've fought rebels long enough to know the difference." Fred said.
"They're still money grubbers." Said Kelly skeptically.
"Mercs or not, they see us as gods among men. Didn't you see the way they looked at us?" Linda said.
Knowing that this trip may take a while, even in slipspace, he reached into his knapsack and grabbed a book. It was about Pandora. Chief was already a few chapters into it.
So far he knew Pandora was a moon orbiting a gas giant known as Polyphemus. It was as one RDA soldier put it 'The Garden of Eden with teeth and claws.' Its atmosphere was Nitrogen, Oxygen, and Carbon Dioxide. Along with Xenon, Methane, and Hydrogen Sulfide. That meant breathing gear was required. Methane… 'I wonder if Grunts could live here without their methane packs.'
The wildlife was mostly hostile. Predators were everywhere. Viperwolves being a big problem as the book said. Even the flora was hostile. As for the Na'vi, the native inhabitants. They were Stone Age compared to Humanity. The way they described the bond between themselves and the planet reminded John of the Native Americans from history class.
Pandora was the leading supplying planet of unobtanium. The precious material that powered reactors on worlds to create war machines and power laboratories for research. Without it, it would be harder to win this war.
But what John found extremely fascinating was the day and night cycle. At night, plants and animals, even the Na'vi literally 'glowed' in the dark. The pictures weren't enough for him. He wanted to SEE it with his own eyes.
The book was also a nice distraction from the fanboy mercs.
Later
ISV Venture Star.
When I was lying there in the VA hospital, with a big hole blown through the middle of my life, I started having these dreams of flying.
I was free.
Sooner or later though, you always have to wake up.
The man woke from his slumber in an enclosed space, blue lights emitting their shine everywhere. He looked to see his own sweat floating in front of him.
He remembered. He's in space.
And he was in cryo.
The RDA's cryo was different from the UNSC. He knew it because he now experienced both. The UNSC was colder and more frozen. The subjects had to ingest a bronchial surfactant to replace nutrients lost in the trip, but this paste is also unpleasant and can induce vomiting. The RDA's was less of a hassle to wake up from, but there was no nutrient paste. It meant fewer vomiting subject, but it also meant they needed to eat something. The tube opened to reveal an open interior of the ship, several other tubes opened as well as nurses and attendants tended to the waking sleepers in zero gravity.
"Are we there yet?" He asks to the nurse coming to him.
"Yeah, we're there sunshine. We're there." The sleepers began to unbuckle from their 'beds' and float about. "You've been in cryo for approximately two days. You will be hungry, you will be weak. If you feel nauseous please use the sacks."
'Jake Sully.' Read his locker's name tag. He mused over his current situation. His brother was the one who wanted his. He was just a grunt. But thanks to a greedy man with a gun and a lust for money, Tom, Jake's brother was dead. And he was selected to take his place. It hurt to think about it. Seeing his brother's lifeless body. The agents explaining the job.
Watching as his brother was cremated.
But he took the job. A fresh start on a new world, how could he say no?
Shuttle in atmosphere.
"Exopacks on exopacks on!" Everyone in the shuttle responded to the order by placing masks over their faces connected to an oxygen supply. "Remember people, you lose that mask, you lose consciousness in 20 seconds, you're dead in 4 minutes! Let's nobody be dead today. Looks very bad on my report."
Jake could feel the shuttle coming to a slow, and finally stop. "Harnesses off! One minute. When that ramp comes down. Go straight to the base, do not stop!" As the ramp opened, fumes entered the shuttle as the atmosphere overcame the Human-friendly air in the shuttle. "Go go go get going come on!" Said the officer. The only one who didn't move was Jake, because he was getting himself in a wheelchair, and dragging his legs onto it. He was in the UNSC not too long ago, and had an impressive record of fighting the Covenant. It wasn't until an energy sword put an end to his days of walking. He was lucky. Most others just plain die, he was paralyzed from the waist down.
They can fix a spine if you have the money. But with this war going on, vet benefits were falling for some. Jake should know, deep in his heart, he knew that it was like this because of the Covenant. Not greed. He always told himself there's no such thing as an ex-marine. You never lose the attitude. Even after the mess on that colony. He was grateful to have survived the Covenant there.
He just wished he still had his legs.
Jack rolled to the ramp. "Let's go special case. Do not make me wait for you!"
Jake rolled off to find war machines and soldiers everywhere with AMP suits here and there. Actually AMP suits were more of mechs. An AMP suit walked past him as he swerved to get out of the way. "Look out hotrod." The pilot said. He could feel eyes drawing to him already. He later had to stop again to let a Hell Truck pass by. On its huge wheels were arrows.
That got him thinking about exactly what was happening.
"Wish I had my legs." He mused, a wheelchair was useless in that kind of circumstance.
Another shuttle was landing right after the first one left. "More fresh meat." One of the mercs said. The shuttle's ramp came down and out came the soldiers as they ran directly inside.
"More meat for the grinder. Ha ha!"
"Holy shit."
The merc who spoke was looking at the shuttle with widened eyes. "Hey, Lyle, what's up with you?" The other merc asked.
"Sean check it out." Another said.
"No way… Spartans?!" Jakes eyebrows perked up and her swerved around in his wheelchair.
"For real?" A merc began saying, "Man if you're fucking with me-"
"No man there really are Spartans here. Four of them!"
Indeed there were four. The numbers on their different colored armors identified them. 104, 058, 087, and 117. "Ho shit man see that? Eleven seven!" A random merc said. Knowing full well who it was.
"Eleven seven? You shitting me? Double one seven, THAT'S funny!" Lyle said.
The Spartans passed the soldiers and Jake. 117 took a look at Jake as he walked by. Jake felt awe and fear pang inside him. After all, Spartans were the most dangerous warriors in existence. He's seen it in action.
Hell's Gate Mess Hall.
"You are NOT in Kansas anymore."
An aged man said passing between the tables filled with soldiers and scientists. "You're on Pandora, ladies and gentlemen. Respect that fact, every second of every day." His voice wasn't in a joking tone. He was serious. "If there is a Hell… you might want to go there for some R&R after a tour on Pandora. Out there beyond that fence. Every living thing that crawls, flies, or squats in the mud wants to kill you and eat your eyes for jujubes."
Colonel Miles Quaritch was his name. A once skilled soldier, now commander of security operations for the RDA on Pandora. Jake rolled in as he spoke.
"We have and indigenous population of humanoids called the Na'vi. They're fond of arrows dipped in a neurotoxin that will stop your heat in one minute. And they have bones reinforced with naturally occurring carbon fiber. They are very hard to kill."
"As head of security. It is my job to keep you alive… I will not succeed… Not with all of you. If you want to survive, you've got to cultivate a strong mental attitude. You've got to obey the rules… Pandora rules. Rule number one-"
As he spoke. The Spartans entered the mess hall. "Well I'll be damned." Quaritch said, resulting in everyone looking at the super soldiers. "Hard to believe they really got here." Quaritch stepped down and approached the leading Spartan. 117. "117." He said reading the label. "I never thought it'd be you. Colonel Miles Quaritch." He said holding is hand out. 117 took and shook it.
"Reporting for duty sir." He said.
"Please, take a seat. I'm about to go over the rules"
Later. Hell's Gate armory. Firing range
John slapped another clip into the RDA issue rifle he was testing out. It was a rifle with the CARB system. Cellular Ammunition Rifle Base. The soldiers dubbed it the Standard Issue Rifle. It came in four models that were each stronger than the last. He was using the SOLARIS IV model. It was red and featured a small sight linked into the rifle. He was impressed with this rifle. It shot in four round bursts and shot straight.
The RDA had quite an impressive arsenal. Kelly was playing around with an assault rifle. It was also a mark IV. It was also bigger than a normal weapon should be. "Jeez. It's like we're in a video game." She said.
Fred was over testing a BANISHER IV machine gun. It fired multiple rounds at once. Through five barrels. "THIS is a gun!"
Linda was trying out other weapons, like the PHALANX IV shotgun.
"These weapons are cool. Why didn't the RDA extend these to us before?" Fred asked.
"Maybe they couldn't. Or maybe we didn't ask them. Who the hell knows?" Kelly said.
John moved over to the officer currently in charge of the armory. "I'll take this and these two weapons." With the rifle, he had a shotgun and an M222 grenade launcher. The IV model.
"Alright. That's a rifle, shotgun, and a grenade launcher." John left the armory, as right now the Spartans were free to explore the complex.
Everywhere he went, he was looked at. He wasn't used to it. Usually when stared at, the soldiers would get back to it because there was a fight going on. But John had no such luxury here.
He felt an itch in his brain. 'Oh no.' Only an hour and a half here and he was already itching to fight again.
John was not your normal soldier. All he was raised to do was to fight, to destroy, to kill. This was not his natural habitat. He was in a place where he did not have total control. The battlefield was comfortable to him. But at least this wasn't a ship.
The halls were filled with people. All of which parted like the Red Sea when John walked down the area.
"Excuse me. Excuse me. Jake!"
It wasn't behind him. It was coming from up ahead. There he saw the same guy in the wheelchair being trailed by another man. "You're Jake right? Tom's brother. Wow! You look just like him. Sorry, I'm Norm. Spellman. I went through avatar with him."
The two men soon ended up in front of John. They immediately stopped talking as he looked at them. The hallway fell dead silent. "… Oh my god." Norm said. John stepped to the side against the wall and extended his arm to in their direction. Indicating he wanted them to go first. "… Uh… Oh! T-thanks." Norm said. He and Jake passed by and made their way to the labs. Feeling a sense of curiosity about the Avatar Program, John followed the men.
"Into the bio-lab." John entered the room and found an abundance of science equipment.
"Damn they got big." He heard Jake say. He looked at what was going on. Jake, Norm, and a scientist were speaking to one another about the big glass tanks with bodies. In each tank was a single body surrounded by what John guessed was an incubation fluid. They were tall. Very tall. About as tall as Mgalekgolo. Humans called them Hunters. They were the shock troopers of the Covenant, wielding battleship thick shields and fuel rod cannons on their arms. They were actually composed of hundreds of individual worm creatures known as Lekgolo. Some groups were too big for a single armor set, so two are often deployed at a time. In pairs.
But these weren't Hunters. In fact, they looked like the Na'vi in the book John read. The only notable differences were a slightly more muscular body, more human like noses, and five fingers like a human's instead of four. The scientist's name was Max Patel. Jake was moving to a different tank. It looked like him. John moved to the tank and observed how the 'Na'vi' inside twitched.
"117." Jake said in surprise. John looked at the startled marine.
"Jake" He replied. "I'm interested in this. What are these artificial Na'vi doing here? I know they're artificial because I read a book."
"It's part of a project to interact with the local population" Patel said as he and Norm came over. "Jake and Norm among others are here to drive these remotely controlled bodies. 'Avatars.' They are created from a mix of human DNA and DNA from the natives. Grown on Earth and taken here two to three days before they grow to the final stages of maturing."
John processed this as he looked into the tank. "Must be expensive."
"Yeah. They cost about $5,000,000,000." Max said. Chief looked at him quickly hearing that number. "Each." Max added.
"Five-" These Avatars were more expensive than Spartan armor!
"Looks like him." Jake said, referring to his Avatar. 'Looks like who?' John wondered.
"No, it looks like you. This is your Avatar now Jake."
"Wait… Who did it look like?" John asked.
Jake was recording himself as part of a documentary for his task, meanwhile, Norm was telling John what happened to Tom Sully. "I'm sorry. It must be hard." John said.
"Is this right? I just- say whatever to the video log?" Jake asked.
Not long after, the four men made their way to the 'Link' room. This was where the 'Pilots' connected to the Avatars. "Grace Augustine is a legend. She's the head of the Avatar Program, she wrote the book. I mean literally, wrote the book on Pandoran botany." Norm said.
"Yeah well that's because she likes plants more than people." Max said before speaking to Grace. "Here she is, Cinderella back from the ball. Grace I'd like you to meet Norm Spellman, Jake Sully, and believe it or not…" He said waving a hand to John.
"Oh my god. They actually got one here." Grace said looking at John.
"Doctor." John said.
"Norm. I've heard good things. How's your Na'vi?" Grace asked.
Norm started speaking in another language that John didn't recognize. He didn't speak Covenant languages, but he's heard them enough times to identify the species. Grace began speaking too,
"Dr. Augustine this is Jake Sully."
"Nice to meet you." Jake said extending a hand.
"Yeah yeah, I know who you are and I don't need you. I need your brother. You know, the PhD who trained for three years for this mission?"
"He's dead." Jake replied unhappy. "I know it's a big inconvenience for everyone." …
"How much lab training have you had?" Grace asked. John guessed she was more interested in her work than others wellbeing.
"I dissected a frog once." Jake replied honestly. John stifled a chuckle. Wearing his full set of armor it could've been interpreted that anyone in the area chuckled.
"You see? You see? They're just pissing on us without even the courtesy of calling it rain. I'm going to Selfridge." Grace said with frustration in her voice.
"No Grace, I don't think that's a good idea." Max said.
"No, man this is such bullshit! I'm gonna kick his corporate butt. He's got no business sticking his" Grace left the room before finishing her sentence.
"Be here tomorrow at 0800. Try and use big words." Max said to Jake. '0800 tomorrow. This I want to see.' John thought as he left the link room.
Hell's Gate command center.
"Mmm! You see that?" The man in a suit asked.
"Yes sir." Another at a computer screen asked.
"No you didn't, you were watching the monitor. I love this putter Ronnie! I love this putter!" The man was Selfridge himself. Playing mini golf on a tiny patch with his coffee mug as a hole. Around him the command center was bustling with life. Operators were giving orders and clearing aircraft to take off or land. While others used their computers to scan areas of the planet. These were special computers with touch screens that were projected above a solid desk.
Grace Augustine came in and marched over to Selfridge. "Parker. You know I used to think it was benign neglect. But now I see you're intentionally screwing me."
"Look Grace. You know I enjoy our little chats." Parker said without looking at her. He stuck the golf ball softly and watched as it rolled to the mug. Only for Grace to kick it out of the way.
"Oops." Selfridge was listening now. "I need a researcher. Not some jarhead dropout."
"Well I think we got lucky with him." Selfridge said.
"Lucky?" Grace asked disapprovingly.
"Yeah." Parker said. "How is this in anyway lucky?"
"Lucky your guy had a twin brother, and lucky that brother wasn't some oral hygienist or something. A marine we can use. I'm assigning him and the Spartans to your team as security escort." Parker explained.
Grace approached him as he tended to the OPS HALO station. A holographic projection table providing 3D imaging of topography and battlefield operations. Linked to satellites.
"The last thing I need is more trigger-happy morons out there!" Grace said.
"HEY!" Parker yelled. "First off! Trigger-happy morons don't wear expensive armor and use weapons efficiently! Secondly," He began, getting calmer at secondly, "you're supposed to be winning the hearts and the minds of the natives. Isn't that the whole point of your little puppet show? If you look like them and you talk like them, they'll start trusting us. We built them a school, we teach them English and other human languages, but after what, how many years and a conflict nearly pushing one clan to extinction? Relations with the indigenous are getting worse!"
"Yeah that tends to happen when you use machine guns on them."
Parker was getting fed up with Grace. It's like she forgot why they were here in the first place. "Right. Come here." He said bringing her to the office. "I can't, I can't." He mumbled.
He grabbed a small piece of rock that was floating above a small antigravity plate on the desk. "This is why we're here. Unobtanium. Because this little gray rock sells for twenty million a kilo. Besides other resources, that's the only reason. It's what pays for the whole party. It's what pays for your science. And not only that, it's what keeps our war machine rolling, it's what keeps our factories and labs running because last I checked, our people are being wiped out by a religious, genocidal, alien empire. Without unobtanium, there is no war machine and we may as well be throwing rocks! Comprendo? Now those savages are threatening our whole operation. We're on the brink of another war we don't need nor want. And you're supposed to be finding a diplomatic solution!"
Grace looked at him with little change in her expression.
"Grace. Look. Maybe you don't give a shit about our people, but I do! Everyone else on this backwater planet does! I have a family on a colony close to the front lines. They could be next! I don't want that! And if we have to kill a whole species to get these resources to survive then so be it. But I don't want that either! So that's why your program still exists. So take what you have and GET ME SOME RESULTS!" Parker said in a tone ending the conversation.
Grace stormed out of the center and back to the labs. And even though she wouldn't admit it, she knew Parker was right. Right now the Covenant were still pushing Humanity back, and without unobtanium, vital research and war machines would not be made.
Whether she liked it or not. Jake was here to stay.