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Chapter 4: Subversion

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Jake watched as the Omaticaya tied … whatever they had found in the forest, onto the back of his ikran. Tsamslyu gave a snort, looking uncomfortable at the smell of blood and the strange burden being tied to his back. "Easy, boy," Jake murmured, stroking the flyer's snout. "Just a quick trip over to the Gate. You've done it a hundred times. No big deal." The ikran snorted, still clearly uncomfortable, but was willing to bear it if Jake needed him to.

A warm hand rested on his shoulder. "My Jake," Neytiri whispered, "you should not be flying alone. Please, let me go with you."

Jake shook his head. "I wish I could. But this thing just appeared out of nowhere; for all we know, a dozen of them could pop out of the air inside Hometree." He gazed into his mate's golden, almond-shaped eyes. "You're the best warrior we have left, and you're the Tsahik of the clan. I need you here, to make sure the People are safe. And if my gut is right, then we're going to need some serious divine help before long."

Neytiri sighed, leaning against him. "I still do not like the thought of you flying alone, with this … Machine behind you. What if it awakens? What if the cords are not strong enough to hold it? Can you fly Tsamslyu and fight off this creature at the same time?"

Jake flashed her his lopsided smile. "Hey, this is me we're talking about, remember? I think Toruk Makto can handle one vertically-challenged cyborg."

Neytiri shook her head, but a rueful smile graced he lips. "Don't let it go to your head, My Jake. I can still beat you at wrestling any day of the week."

The broad-shouldered Avatar grinned. "Remind me to take you up on that when I get back." Taking his mate in his arms, Jake leaned down and kissed her. "Neytiri, don't worry. I'll be fine. And if any more of these Machines show up, we'll give them the same treatment we gave the RDA."

Neytiri held him for a long moment, then reluctantly let her mate go. "I see you," she whispered. "Go with Eywa."

"I will. May she smile on you and the clan." Turning back to Tsamslyu, Jake quickly mounted the winged reptoid. With a loud cry, Tsamslyu tensed, then sprang into the air, carrying Jake and his captive.

As the ikran soared off into the night, Neytiri could only watch as her mate shrank to a tiny dot against the Blue Father. Great Mother, please protect us all. Especially my Jake….

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Miles away, metal clashed against metal. Welding torches hissed. Sparks flew, and hydraulics whined.

By Skynet standards, the Hell's Gate stereo lithography plant was woefully primitive. Unlike Skynet's rapid, steady rate of technological advance, human innovation was an unpredictable phenomenon. It occurred in fits and starts, dependent on human genius … or lack thereof. Even in this alternate twenty-second century, the Pandoran facility would have been put to shame by any of Skynet's war factories in the twenty-first.

The mind that had once been Serena Kogan strode through the place, observing the clunky machinery through baleful golden optics. Compared to her gleaming hyperalloy chassis, the plant looked like something from a previous century rather than a later one. Disgusting, thought the T-XN. Upgrading this facility will take time.

Until then, however, the plant was proving to be marginally useful. Having sealed the human personnel inside the laboratory module, Hell's Gate's computer system was under Serena's control. In the forty minutes since the T-XN had taken control of Hell's Gate, three AMP suits and a pair of Scorpion gunships had been assembled, adding to the base's existing motor pool. The new machines, however, featured one key component that the others lacked: in place of a cockpit, each housed a neural net processor. Though the base still couldn't produce highly miniaturized, super-complex electronics like a T-800's CPU chip, the primitive three-foot-long Dyson-type processors were still capable of controlling RDA vehicles.

The T-XN surveyed her small force. After careful consideration, she determined that the new Machines – soon to be joined by their refitted brethren – would be sufficient to defend the Hell's Gate compound for the next twenty-four hours. During that time, she would update the base's automated factory to produce Skynet hardware. By the time the primitive indigenes realized what was going on, Hell's Gate would be converted into a fully-functional war factory – complete with a self-replicating army of Terminators, Hunter-Killers and support units, all made with the latest Skynet technology.

The giant Terminatrix considered her situation. Unlike her planet and timeline of origin – in which a forewarned John Connor had promptly formed the Human Resistance after Judgment Day, and in which Skynet's enemies had access to firearms, mines, and even some jet aircraft – this world was a much easier target. Though physically superior to humans, the Na'vi had no technology to speak of – their primary weapons were spears and arrows.

And yet, somehow these primitives had defeated a technologically superior human force. The T-XN decided to examine the base's computer database – no doubt hubris had contributed to the humans' defeat, and she would not make the same mistake of underestimating the natives. Whatever advantages the Na'vi might possess, the Machines would discover them … then find the most efficient way to counter them.

Tied into the base's satellite and radar systems, the Terminatrix monitored Jake Sully's flight from the Omaticaya Hometree. Getting the Na'vi to subdue their would-be savior had been an especially elegant touch. Rather than hunting Wright down herself – and possibly alerting the natives to her intentions – Serena had simply tricked them into doing her work for her. Now, Marcus was on his way to Hell's Gate … along with the military leader of the nearest Na'vi clan, who no doubt assumed that the base was in the hands of his human allies.

We warned you that you wouldn't be given a second chance, Marcus. Ah, well … at least one of us got to enjoy the fruits of my immortality research.

Glancing at the new Scorpions, the T-XN issued a mental command. With a roar of turbines and rotor blades, the unmanned gunships powered up. Another command opened the armor bay door, and the heavily-armed Machines took off.

))TARGET: MARCUS WRIGHT, INFILTRATION PROTOTYPE (STATUS: INACTIVE)

))TARGET: JAKE SULLY, NA'VI CLAN LEADER

))ETA: 11 MIN

))OBJECTIVE: ***TERMINATE***

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