Light rain drizzled from the sky, a haze of cloud cover reaching for the top of the new Hometree, like a smothering blanket. Sounds of the forest echoed everywhere, the chirps of far-off ikran, the relentless pounding of angtsìks in the heat of mating rituals. Raindrops pooled on the leaves of Hometree, dripping from the treetops in steady rhythm, almost like drum beat. This was life as it should be, this was life as no ear on Earth had heard for decades.
Norm sat alone, not bothering to shield himself from the raindrops, his legs dangling over the edge of the branch. The scientist wasn't a particularly broody individual, but today was different. Whether his human brain still lingered under the affects of a bit too much to drink the night before, or whether he truly was this indecisive, he didn't know. Trudy's words had bothered him. He lived for science, for knowledge, and he had never truly considered having a life. Quite frankly, he didn't know what do with it.
"Why do you shy away from the People." A soft female voice asked in the Na'vi tongue. For a moment, Norm couldn't decide where it was coming from. A few moments passed by before a finger touched lightly upon his shoulder. The surprising touch nearly made him jump off his perch. Somehow she had reached up from below him and climbed to his side without him noticing.
"Eywa! Don't do that." He yelled. It was Pey'lal, the lone huntress. Apparently she enjoyed stalking her prey, even when searching for a mate. Her abilities to meld in with the forest were legendary among the Omaticaya, there was no one else more stealthy.
"I am sorry. But you are a warrior now. You must expect attack at any time." She chastised. Pey'lal was considered rather plain by Na'vi standards of beauty, but she had a natural grace about her every move. Obviously the huntress was very much in tune with her body and the forest surrounding it. Besides, what was considered plain by the Na'vi was a very different matter for one with a human mind. She was taller than most, extremely slender, yet well defined. In a human woman, such traits were quite desirable indeed and Norm acknowledged her as nothing less than stunning. What the huntress saw in him, he couldn't fathom.
"Yes, I suppose I should. Is there anyone else who could have done that, though?" Norm pointed out.
"Probably not." The huntress boasted, smiling gently. "Yet you do not answer my question."
"There is much on my mind." Norm answered cautiously. It wouldn't do well to discuss ignorance of women of all species with one who seemed interested in him, after all.
"That I can see. What is it that troubles you?" Pey'lal asked patiently. "Is it the selection of a life mate?"
Norm coughed and nearly fell off his perch again. Na'vi spoke very openly about selecting a life mate, declaring whom they wished for or selected very plainly, even if speaking about the actual act of mating was highly taboo. Human values seemed to be more or less reversed. One could discuss sexual exploits all day in the right company, but dating? What a mess that was.
"Uh, yes. I was of the Sky People once, and Sky People are not so... open about selecting a mate." Norm tried to overcome the embarrassment, but the tiny spots on his face lit up with the awkwardness of the situation. It was almost impossible to hold back what you truly felt with spots that lit up with certain emotions, and ears that swiveled and flattened almost against your will. Perhaps this is why Na'vi were open about their emotions, they had no choice but to put them on display.
"Sky People are not honest about many things. But I see not all are this way." Pey'lal seemed to inch closer to him, though he could not be certain of it. Unless he was watching her, it was almost impossible to detect her movements.
"Yes, not all are like that. Still, it is difficult to learn." Norm replied simply.
"I can see that. Maybe I can make it less difficult for you." Pey'lal offered as Norm looked on suspiciously. That almost sounded like a proposition, was this how Na'vi flirted with one another?
"What do you mean?"
"There are two in the clan who would select you. If you also wanted to select one of them, then there would be no more troubled thoughts, right?" Pey'lal explained.
"You make it sound so easy." Norm laughed.
"You make it harder than it needs to be." Pey'lal continued. "Ni'nat finds you attractive. I think she has a liking for the dreamwalkers, as they are usually very attractive. She would make an excellent mate, she is well beloved by The People." Something in her voice gave away the fact that not everyone considered her well beloved. But then Pey'lal was always a bit of an outsider in the clan.
"And you?" Norm asked, emboldened slightly. If she was going to be direct, he could be too.
"I like to be alone often, like this. So do you. It is a good match." Pey'lal said simply, but Norm caught the slight flutter of her spots, the perking of her ears. There's more to it than that,he thought. Nonetheless, her simplistic, logical reasoning appealed to him somehow. He wasn't even close to being convinced, but it gave him something to ponder.
"You know what I am, right?" Norm asked carefully. Pey'lal's hand touched his shoulder gently in acceptance, letting her hand linger perhaps just a moment longer than she should have.
"A man of two worlds. Maybe to some, this is bad. But Omaticaya are your true people, this is your true home. I feel that..." Pey'lal paused for a moment, her ears shifting about in sudden alarm, trying to catch some distant sound. "Something is coming."
"What?" But soon Norm heard it too, it was a sound he was all too familiar with. A dropship was incoming, the whine of its turbines was a sound he could never mistake. "Sky People!" He screamed, loud enough for the others to hear.
Light filtered through the gates of the avatar barracks, shimmering rays of warmth streaming down on his face. Morning glow was rarely so intense in the forest, with a canopy of trees and plants everywhere, but here in the avatar barracks, there was little to block such light. Jake stretched in a purely human gesture, something he would never quite get rid of, as Neytiri came too. Some of the remaining avatar drivers were already up and about, collecting supplies and preparing for a conflict Jake hoped would never come.
It wasn't that he was afraid of going into battle again, rather, he was just so tired of it all. He had enough slaughter for one lifetime, and just hoped these maniacs in orbit could agree to give up the rail gun, refuel, and go home so that he too could return home. The bureaucrat in charge up there obviously had different plans, though. Neytiri's eyes fluttered open and he smiled warmly, a certain euphoria tracing up his spine instinctively at the sight of her. Part of him still questioned what he had done to deserve coming here, seeing all of this, being with her. Tom was the one who was supposed to be here, and only through the most horrible quirks of fate imaginable, had it been him. What would life have been like if he never came here? The thoughts were disturbing, and his mate detected the unease.
"Do not do that to yourself." Neytiri warned. It was one bone of contention in their growing relationship, this tendency to question his worthiness for everything that had been bestowed upon him. As far as Neytiri was concerned, Eywa had chosen him, case closed, end of story. But for Jake, there was still much more to think about.
"My brother should have been here."
"Perhaps he should have been here too. But you were meant to be here." Neytiri replied, reaching for his hand.
"Right." Jake replied, unconvinced, following some of the scientist avatars heading into the base. As they entered Ops, Trudy was standing over the holographic projector, tracking something that obviously disturbed her.
"That had to be a reentry trace. Come on people, lets figure this shit out."
"What's going on?" Jake asked warily.
"One of our satellites went dead unexpectedly about a minute ago. Right before it went offline, I saw what looked like a reentry." Trudy continued. "Wouldn't have seen if it I wasn't in the right place at the right time. I think these sons'a'bitches are up to something. We're mapping course and speed to get a fix on where they might be headed."
"You think they took out the satellite with the railgun?" Jake asked, confirming the obvious.
"I'd say that's a fair guess. Hmm.. course and speed will take the bastards directly over your new Hometree. They launched the attack at dawn, local time. I can't see how they could take Hometree though, they can't be packing enough manpower and equipment to take and hold."
"Launch everything we have for Hometree," said Jake. "And someone raise these morons on radio."
"I will warn our people." Neytiri added in English. Concern for the People was plain on her face, her ears flattening with anger, her mouth twisting in a frown. For a moment, Jake seemed to consider talking her out of it, but she was in one of those moods, like the moment she considered attacking an entire battalion of foot soldiers with three arrows. Any decent leader had to choose which battles he fought, and Jake had no intention of fighting her on this.
"Be careful, my Neytiri." Jake said in Na'vi, tracing the contours of her face for a brief moment. Then she was gone, sprinting for her ikran which was already descending from the heavens.
"These assholes are mine. Max, you take over." Trudy replied as she hustled for her Samson. That made two women Jake had no interest in stopping.
"I have them on the line." Max answered, taking over for the angry pilot.
"Capital Star, we know what you're doing. Do I have to remind you what will happen if you go through with this?" Jake said angrily.
"Pandora has grown on me, I think I'd like to stay awhile." Came the reply. "You know what, go right ahead, blow the fuel, the refinery and everything."
"He has to be bluffing," Max offered, the scientist in him calculating every possible outcome. It was like a high-stakes poker game, with the entire planet on the table.
"You want to go home. Fine. We don't want you here either. So we have something in common. If you stop this stupidity and dismantle the rail gun, we will refuel you for the journey home." Jake offered.
"No deal. You will surrender the base intact, you will also surrender yourself and all company personnel who participated in your little mutiny." Carlson replied, no trace of emotion in his voice.
"You're a fool." Jake was pretty certain of that too. At least this executive had given away his true motive for this insanity. Carlson wanted the base back, he wanted to salvage the company's position on Pandora before word got back to Earth about what had happened here. Then RDA could just sweep everything under the rug and things would return to the way they had been. However the silence of the railgun implied that the executive was taking a calculated risk. If Carlson really didn't care about going home, he would have opened fire with the weapon already and simply annihilated the base from orbit. If he was pressed into a corner, however, he might just be insane enough to do it anyway.
"Max, I'm leaving. You're in command here. Try to evacuate as many people as possible to the forest. Use off-site containers where possible, and try to hide your heat signatures. Get the Avatars and pods out too." Jake didn't want to consider it, but should the base be annihilated and all the human supplies be destroyed, the avatar drivers might have some hope still, with Eywa.
"We only have two Samsons left. It will take some time."
"Better get to it, then. If that bastard up there shoots so much as one round, blow the whole refinery complex." Jake answered as he shut the hatch and stepped outside.
From above, his ikran descended from the skies, answering his call. It was time to leave this place and return to his true home. As he flew onward, ever-faster through the cloud-filled sky, worry flooded his awareness, fear for his mate, fear for his home. Once, he had nothing to lose but a life he didn't really want anymore. But now there was all too much to lose and so much he couldn't live without.
Fires burned everywhere around the great tree, a great cloud of smoke curling into the heavens as the Sky People advanced relentlessly, gunning down a pair of warriors who didn't find cover in time. Overhead, the great metal machine hovered, dropping explosive packs on the defenders, though so far few had penetrated the dense canopy of branches and tree limbs. That would change soon, Norm thought as he gripped the rifle he had stashed here in case of such an eventuality. Warriors danced around him, gripping their bows as they leaped higher into the tree, summoning ikran, preparing to attack from above.
Pey'lal was beside him, silently tracking a lone soldier with her bow, every move fluid and steady. The arrow flew outwards, impaling the man in the chest as his rifle flew upwards, sending a stream of bullets flying everywhere as he fell. Screams were everywhere, the cries of Omaticaya warriors as they joined the battle. The staccato of machine gun fire echoed through the forest in between the heavier, almost rhythmic pounding from the explosives dropped from above. Well, Norm thought darkly, it's time to add my own.
Norm was wrapped around the tree limb, hugging it with one arm as he raised the rifle with the other, choosing his targets carefully. A controlled burst dropped another mercenary and sent the rest scurrying for cover in the dense foliage. More followed behind them, however, and his position had been made. Bullets traced all around him, one grazing his cheek, another round shattering next to his hand. A hand reached for his, helping him escape the withering fire, pulling him upward into a natural alcove in the tree.
"You are brave. But you have much to learn still." Pey'lal chastised. As if to punctuate the statement, she leaned gracefully just outside of the alcove, found her target, and let loose another arrow. Even over the din of the growing battle and the man's exopack, Norm heard the painful scream. He was surprised how much the battle with Quaritch's troops had changed their methods. The Omaticaya were being devious, hiding in trees, alcoves and pits, ambushing the mercenaries one at a time. So far, the enemy had been held back very effectively.
Another mine explosive went off just above their hiding place, the noise deafening him, blowing splinters of wood everywhere, knocking both of them down. Norm fell through vines, leaves and branches, each impact a stinging pain, yet somehow he had maintained his grip on the rifle, rolling as he hit the dirt, bringing it to bear on a trooper whose gun was leveling at Pey'lal's form, still falling from above. The mercenary went down, dead before he touched the dirt, his torso shredded by the withering fire. Pey'lal hit the ground right after, blood pooling underneath her still form, her eyes wide in shock.
The former scientist reached for her, dragging her quickly to safety behind a series of trees, inspecting her wounds. A large splinter of wood was sticking out of her shoulder, bleeding profusely. Fortunately it was relatively straight, but he feared pulling it out, lest she bleed out.
"Take it out. There is healing paste in the shell on my belt. Put it in the wound, push hard." Pey'lal instructed, shutting out the pain. Norm reached for her belt, finding the shell with the healing paste inside. It was some kind of mixture with the local tree sap and it looked like it could seal the wound well enough.
"This is going to hurt..." Norm said unnecessarily as he reached for the splinter. Pey'lal didn't even seem to care. As he tore it loose, she winced in obvious pain, but managed to remain silent. The scientist worked the paste into the wound, trying to stop the relentless blood flow, filling the wound with the substance.
"I think you are enjoying this." Norm teased, trying to distract her from the obvious pain. The huntress smiled weakly in return. In the distance, he could hear the sound of rotors approaching and the cry of ikran diving into battle. Help had arrived at last.
Neytiri dove into the fray heedless of her own safety, her ikran building up incredible speed. At the last possible moment, she leveled out, giving her a clear shot at the enemy massing below. Her arrow flew straight and true, eliminating one of the attackers. Bullets reached for her, but she was already ascending into the clouds again, vanishing where the Sky People could not track her. Thanking Eywa for the low clouds, she reached for another arrow, prepared to dive in again.
Trudy came in hot behind the Na'vi warrior, the rearmed Samson belching out several rounds from its forward guns, sending the force reeling into the trees, firing wildly. Bullets pinged off of the hull, some penetrating, but nothing vital was hit. It was then that she saw the drop shuttle, hovering just over Hometree, unloading mine explosives everywhere, tossing them out of the back like ancient depth charges. She didn't have anything like the firepower to bring down that monster, but the exposed cargo area was an open invitation. Veering around the unarmed shuttle, she brought her nose square with cargo area, lighting up the mercenaries inside.
"Fuckers gotta pay." She whooped. Some part of her was enjoying this. Sitting around in Ops just wasn't where she was supposed to be. It was true that she was the only one qualified to run it anymore, but that didn't mean she had to like it. This was where she truly belonged, in the cockpit, sticking it to the fucking man.
"What's the situation." Jake asked over the radio tab as he made his way into the battle.
"Ground force is behind the treeline, they're pinned up nice and tight. I took out the shuttle's bomb-chuckers, it's been effectively disarmed." Trudy reported simply.
Jake wasted no time as he reached the fight, diving into the ground force, his ikran reaching for a mercenary who was just a second too slow reaching the treeline. The man screamed in agony as the ikran clawed into him, tearing in his exposed flesh, lifting him above the trees and dropping him to an uncertain fate, arms flailing about in pain and denial.
"Enemy commander, cease your attacks. We are willing to discuss terms." Trudy's radio blared.
"Yeah, the only thing you're gonna get is a nice fucking hole in the ground." She replied angrily, twisting the Samson around. If this jackass thought he was just going to walk away from this attack, he had another thing coming.
"Unfortunate. If you do that, our prisoners will have to die," came the reply.