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Chapter 8: High Noon
Date: 11:43 PM, September 18th, 2174
Location: Omaticaya Kelutral, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System
The two Tsahik sat beside one another, slowly picking at their late morning meals as they gazed into their cooking fire. They had spoken only in passing along their journey back to the home-tree, and again this morning, but both knew that they were dancing around a delicate subject that neither truly wished to speak of, but that they both knew which they must.
Mo'at finally asked the question that had bothered her for several days now, letting their words pass her lips, "What was it that you saw my sister, in Eywa's vision, that allowed you to remain standing tall and unbowed, when it was all that we others could do to sit without weeping?"
Her friend paused, choosing to carefully raise her bowl to her mouth and sip from the water within before she answered her.
"I did not dream, elder sister. I had no vision. My sleep was peaceful and untroubled until the screaming began." Tun'txampay explained quietly.
She sighed and bowed her head at her younger friend's words, "Then Eywa has lost her faith in you, in your soul, as you have lost faith in her."
The other woman shrugged, "So it would seem."
"You truly no longer follow the Great Mother, even in passing?" she pressed softly.
Another pause.
"Perhaps out of habit. But I will not pay service to a goddess that demands yet more blood of my people. My clan.. I. I have suffered enough. My clan shall follow me, or they shall not. It will be their choice." The dual Olo'eyktan and Tsahik exhaled and resumed, "That is not to say that I will allow them to become as insane as the aliens, or that I shall let myself fall in that way. We shall still act with honor, and honor the lives of all things as we have always done. As long as the aliens leave us alone, we shall leave them alone. We have seen enough death."
Mo'at bowed her head slightly in acknowledgment, lettering her mind drift at the words of her companion.
Is this heresy? No doubt. Is it the truth, the future of what we will become? Possibly. But it is dangerous. Such talk could easily bring down the anger of many clans upon her and her people.
"I fear that your words have a ring of truth sister, but that it may be one that sees Eywa direct her wrath upon you." she spoke slowly, enunciating each word with care.
Tun'txampay bowed her painted face in turn, "I know my friend. I speak them only to you, in confidence. But there is more here at stake than my clan's spiritual future. Blood might flow amongst these roots within a few nightfalls, yet the warriors do not act as though it is expected."
She sighed and closed her eyes, "The young warriors do not know that Pey'ral plans to stand and fight against their choice. They believe that Jake'sully will bow to their desire, and that even if he does not join them, he will bless their goals."
"Fools." the painted woman spat, "They spend time trying to convince other clans, already convinced, to join them in struggle against the sky people while their wiser elders prepare to stop them. All but a handful of the Tsahik have left, if they have the cunning of the nantang, they will strike soon. But who will your Olo'eyktan stand beside? What will be the will of Toruk'makto?"
Slowly reaching down into the bowl before her, she selected a strip of yerik meat and carefully ate it, letting the smokey flavor distract her for but a moment.
Once more she had to choose her words very carefully, "Toruk'makto.. is no longer unified in soul, heart, and mind. The soul of a warrior is being called by his heart to stand and fight beside his son and mate, while it is being told by his mind that to do so is to die in vain, with all of his kin."
Tun'txampay spat an oath, shaking her head.
"And tensions between himself and my daughter are rising. She does not see the conflict as he does, she believes that this time they will succeed. My Neytiri still holds faith in Eywa, far more than I, I fear that Eywa shall soon give her the vision that proclaims her Tsahik. Jake'sully fears this as well." she closed her eyes and continued despondently, "He confided upon me last night after drinking far too many spirits that if it comes to blows, he will gather those who still believe in his wisdom and leave this hometree. Travel east, far away from the sky people, and establish a new clan. I.. I do not wish to lose my daughter, Tun. But I am being forced to choose between my daughter and my granddaughters. Jake'sully has no intention of leaving them behind, for the fires he believes will consume this place."
"And Neytiri will never leave this tree as long as she can fight." her friend finished for her, sighing, "That is a difficult choice my sister. Both will cause you much pain. Difficult as it may be for me to say this, but I fear that your only hope must be that your elder warriors are able to prevent your grandson from leading any great force against the sky people."
A slight sob escaped her at that. Her only hope to spare her from the pain of losing members of her family was for yet another to be slain, by her own warriors.
Tun gently reached out and held her shoulder, trying to calm her soul with just her presence.
Grateful, she let her body rest against the arm of her companion, trying to let her heart and mind once more move in harmony.
Then the shouting began.
Blinking her eyes open, the matriarch looked confusedly at Tun before twisting her head around to try and trace the source of the noise with her ears.
"I fear that some young fool has just insulted an elder warrior." her friend sighed, helping her to her feet, "Let us see what can be done."
The two matriarchs rose and moved out of the small cooking alcove and headed out into the tree proper, tracing the source of the noise to a massive gathering of what looked to be all of the people of the clan, as well as what few Tsahik still lingered.
All were shouting, cursing, cheering.
Her heart began to beat wildly with worry, siting Jake and Neytiri, both ashen faced and grim, observing something occurring before them, in the heart of the crowd.
Her mouth dried as she began to recognize the war-chants and cheers that many warriors and hunters were letting loose.
Her tail thrashed as she increased her pace.
Her ears caught the tell-tale thuds and clangs of clashing ceremonial spears.
Pushing and shoving, letting her position and rank catch the eyes of those who were in her way, she and Tun'txampay moved as swiftly as they could to reach the Olo'eyktan and his mate. Neither turned to face her as she arrived, their eyes locked on the action before them.
For a moment, she prayed with all of her soul for this to be a nightmare.
Pey'ral, her face grim and set in a warrior's snarl, was driving Tsu'tey back before her, his eyes wide with the fear that only true knowledge of battle could bring.
Both were covered in slight scratches and bruises, he far more than she, and even as she watched Pey'ral nearly drove the blade of her weapon into his chest, the blow desperately parried at the last moment.
"What happened!" she had to shout over the roar of the assembled people.
"He was working out a plan to attack the humans over lunch with his companions. Pey'ral told him to shut it, that she, as the senior hunter, forbade him from doing it. He told her that he was my son, not hers, and the she had no authority over him." his voice was flat, almost dreamlike, as though he could not believe it either. "She challenged him to a ceremonial duel right there over it, saying that she did have the right and he was a young moron who need a lesson. He was too caught up in it to realize what he was doing and agreed."
She grimaced as Pey'ral slammed one of her feet into his stomach, sending him up into the air with the force of the blow, the smack of flesh striking flesh that followed as her fist rammed home was equally unpleasant.
Neytiri, her voice much like her mate's, spoke, "She is trying to teach him a lesson without slaying him. Hoping that he will recognize her as his superior without her having to deliver a fatal blow. My son will never do that.."
Tsu'tey managed to parry yet another thrust and launch a wild counter-attack, forcing what looked like a grunt of effort from Pey'ral's lips as she smacked his spear downwards into the soil before lashing out at his face yet again, sending him spinning away with a cry of pain.
She feared the her daughter was right. He won't back down. Not before Ean'atane, his new mate. Not before his fellow warriors. Not before the Tsahik who support his views.
With a sharp cry, the female hunter twisted her staff, slamming her former student's away with the blunt circle of the bottom before quickly reversing her grip and slashing as his shoulder.
Her grand-son let our a sharp cry and staggered back as blood flew from the wound, dropping to a knee.
Pey'ral took a long stride towards him, twisting her staff once more in her hands, bringing the blunt circle around to the fore once more. The fierce hunter wanted to knock him out, not kill him.
The moments it took her to spin the haft above her head were an eternity within a duel.
Even as she brought the weapon down, Mo'at's mind screamed in agony as Tsu'tey seized his own weapon with his unwounded arm and thrust.
Tsu'tey collapsed as the blow slammed his head around, body dropping limply to the ground.
Pey'ral looked stunned, staring at the weapon that had been driven home into her belly as though in wonder. She swayed once, eyes rolled back into her head, and then she too, fell.
The shouting, which had ceased into a single moment of silence as both struck, suddenly exploded once more even as Jake and Neytiri both sprinted forwards, shouting and cursing at everyone but the healers to stay back.
Mo'at felt Tun's arms embrace her even as her legs gave way, and she fell, sobbing, to her knees.
Date: 02:23 PM, September 18th, 2174
Location: Omaticaya Kelutral, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System
The Samson banked into a sharp dive, the medics within cursing along with Norm as they hurtled towards the ground.
None of them were really sure why they were heading there, only that John had called, hysterical, managed to get Thomes to agree to talk with him, and within a minute she had ordered an immediate medivac team, plus Norm, sent from Hell's Gate to the Omaticaya.
And I'm not sure what's worse, that someone is so badly wounded that they need human medical help, or that whatever they promised the ice queen is juicy enough for her to put aside her pro-human agenda to agree to help. His mind fretted even as the pilot began to rapidly level off, bringing them in towards the main entrance.
Na'vi were waiting for them, scattering and shouting what sounded like curses as the rotors kicked up wind and debris.
He was out of the vehicle before it hit the ground, the medics quickly following his lead and hopping out, seizing their gear as they did, grouping in behind him.
It took him a moment to figure out why.
Some of the natives were very visibly angered by their presence, even as others affected neutral or even friendly demeanors.
One, a striking female, strode forwards, snarling and cursing.
He interrupted the young woman, partly because he knew it would annoy her, mostly because they had been told it was of the utmost urgency.
"Pardon me, but we were told to come here and that it was an emergency, please move aside so we can help whomever is injured." he spoke as he always did, formally and politely.
Her lips curled into the Na'vi equivalent of a sneer, "You are not welcome here demon, begone!"
He glared at the much taller alien, "Jake'sully is a personal friend of mine and told us to come, you are not he. Stand aside." He knew his voice sounded much more confident than he was actually feeling, and he had to fight to stop from trembling as her glare intensified.
She opened her mouth to speak, but two metallic clacks sounded from behind him stopped her.
Both of the door-gunners had dismounted and cocked their combat shotguns, both aimed directly at her as they moved up beside the unarmed medics.
The woman paused, obviously working over her options, before a blue fist slammed into her face and sent her spinning to the ground.
She rose, started to hiss, and choked suddenly as she caught sight of Jake's face, set into a snarl of utter rage, glaring at her.
"I expect far better from my son's mate. Get out of my sight. Now." he spat, turning disdainfully away from her and nodding jerkily to Norm. "Norm, come on, she's this way. Hurry."
The fallen woman scrambled frantically out of their way as they followed Jake, the group of humans being forced to break into a light jog just to keep up.
"Jake! Wait up man! Who's injured, what's going on!" he asked as they stumbled through a cloud of Na'vi, all of whom were looking surprised at seeing the seven humans following their leader towards the back of the main hall.
His friend didn't answer, instead continuing to glare at anyone who got in the way and beckoning for them to move faster.
It did not take them long to reach the epicenter of what had happened, and his heart hitched in his throat as the coppery scent of blood hit his nose, and he caught sight of the body laying beneath two healers.
Not needing any escort or commands at that point, the medics quickly raced forwards, surrounding them. Jake quietly shooed the healers away, who both took a mere few steps back before turning to watch their alien counterparts work.
Norm paled at seeing the warrior's face, and the wound covered by salves and bandages upon her toned belly.
"Pey'ral.." he murmured softly.
Just a few days ago he had been laughing and talking with her, showing her what human devices did what, why the did it, explaining things to satisfy her refreshing curiosity.
Now she was laying before him, probably dying, in a pool of her own blood.
"What happened Jake?" he asked quietly as the medics hid their activities with their bodies, frantically examining the wound and affixing their own bandages, talking in low, fast tones as the healers looked on.
His friend spoke in quiet, dead tones, "He challenged her authority as my second, as the head of our warriors, and she challenged him to a duel over it. She was trying to beat sense into him, that she was in charge and spoke for me, not him. She had him, but didn't want to kill him. Paused to knock him out instead. He got her when she paused."
"He got her all right." one of the medics spoke up, her voice tense, "She's a mess. We need to get her to Tartarus."
Jake nodded slightly at that, and he quietly continued to ask his questions, "Where is Tsu'tey? What's going to happen now Jake?"
"Up higher, with Neytiri. Still out cold." The medics were affixing her to an Na'vi sized stretcher, grunting slightly with the effort of heaving her up. "And I don't know Norm. I just don't know. Take care of her, please."
"I will." he promised before turning to follow the medics and their burden, trying to tune out the voices that had begun to shout behind him. The tribe, it seemed, did not approve of them taking her, and though he didn't look back, he could hear Jake's voice, tinged once more with anger, bellowing for them to shut up and stay back.
Getting her affixed safely to the Samson and then getting everyone back in while under the watchful gaze of the tribe was an adventure unto itself. After several tense minutes, with Jake occasionally shouting loudly enough to be heard over the rotor's roaring, he took his place in the back as the door gunners, re-affixed their weapons to the mounts and the gunship lifted off into the sky.
The medic was already on the comms even as they cleared the home-tree, requesting that the pair of doctors who had worked on Neytiri those years past be ready to operate on a Na'vi again as soon as they landed.
For his part, he fretted and grimaced every-time her breath hitched, watching over her worriedly.
Not only was she Jake's best friend, his second amongst the warriors and hunters of the clan, but she was also the one who held the lion's share of the loyalty of the older group of warriors. With Jake unable to fight his own son, it was her word and commands that they would obey in battle, and without her, it was doubtful that they would raise their weapons against Tsu'tey.
Even more, she was his friend. Quite possibly the only Na'vi one that he had. Mo'at still scared him on some level, and she preferred Max's company. Neytiri had increasingly avoided him as time went by, probably seeing him a link to her mate's human past.
Even if I haven't spoken to her all that much, it was still enough to make me like her as a friend, and that's why I'm not going to let her die.
Though, to be frank with himself, there wasn't a lot he could do. Sure, he knew Na'vi biology, but knowing where an organ is, and what it does, and how it works, is a far cry from being able to fix it after it had been slashed open by a giant blade.
Hell, only reason you were sent with was because you speak the language and they might've needed a translator. The bitter thought swam into his mind.
Look on the bright side, with Max busy as 'head of the department' and Katrina still mostly uncaring about the Na'vi, you'll probably be the one that Thomes appoints to babysit Pey'ral. It'll make life interesting, at least. He glanced at her still form, and that at the rushing forest beneath them, Assuming she lives..
Date: 07:50 PM, September 18th, 2174
Location: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System
Help her, and I will deal with my son.
Vague, yet promising. How could she pass the chance up?
Maria Thomes listened with half an ear to the doctor as the dark-skinned woman rattled off everything that they had done in the last several hours.
It all boiled down to: she would live, but would be bed ridden for quite some time. Weeks, maybe more.
Not surprising, given that her guts got opened up by that blade. If not for our medicines, she'd have died slowly and in agony.
She thanked and dismissed the doctor, leaning back into her office chair and expelling a breath, mentally ticking off everything that would have to be done.
The female hunter was the same that had caught the incompetent moron that had tried to scout out their defenses, and according to Spellman, was apparently the leader of the opposition.
Which is both good and bad for us. We have plenty of time to communicate with her, and she owes us her life, but she's here healing, not there fighting.
Sighing, she lazily flicked her computer screen on and brought up the plan that Theodas had presented to her, and scrolled to the relevant section.
Case Red: Pro-war group seizes full control of local clan.
Standing Orders: Any native bearing arms is a legitimate target.
Method of Attack:
First Company will begin preliminary missile bombardment from 10km SSW of target. Bombardment will last approx. five minutes and expend one-hundred twenty guided missiles, three hundred and sixty guided rockets.
Attack group will approach and disembark Second Company forces. Combined force will approach and eliminate any surviving hostiles.
Estimated operation time: one hour.
Estimated casualties: minimal.
Attack group will fall back to Hell's Gate to refuel, reload, and to emphasize Mine Site 02 as vulnerable location as per orders.
It was exactly the kind of overwhelming force plan that she had requested, one that would obliterate the entire clan with extreme speed and prejudice. It would be scorched earth, pure and simple, leaving nothing but ash where the clan had once lived.
That in turn, was the largest issue with the plan. The keystone being the preliminary missile strike, aimed at both bringing down the tree as well as generally obliterating that area, would be fully indiscriminate, and both Theodas and herself agreed that Case Red would see the death of every Na'vi within the clan, warrior or not.
With a grimace, she closed it and glanced over her other options.
Case Green revolved around a land-based assault, with a sniper team equipped with rail-rifles borrowed from the Third Company specifically to eliminate Tsu'tey. The First Company would keep the sky clear and provide support. It had the disadvantage, by its nature, of most likely incurring more casualties than the first plan, but would be 'friendlier' to the civilian natives.
The original Green had been a much more typical assassination run, but that had been revised after Spellman had discovered and informed them that Tsu'tey possessed a mate.
It is entirely possible that she is the driving force behind this, and that the young male, being a young male, is just the brawn for her plans. Even if it isn't, that there are two of them implies that there might be more. If we hit them, we have to make sure that none of them escape, and that means more manpower than just a sniper team.
She paused and considered other advantages behind the idea.
It could also showcase that we're not afraid to fight them on the ground, in their territory. She mused. Might throw them off a bit, if they still think we're just cowards. Have to ask that huntress about it.
She didn't bother looking at Blue or Olive. Both assumed that the Na'vi would fracture into civil war, and that the attack group would be intervening on the behalf of those against all-out war.
That leaves Indigo. Guaranteed to piss them all off, no matter what, and probably alienate Patel and his cronies permanently, as well as every native on the continent.
Indigo was a modification of Quaritch's plan to destroy the Tree of Souls, utilizing either a Scorpion flight to destroy the tree. Unlike Quaritch's plan, their own relied more on stealth and surprise then overwhelming force. The plan called for series of distraction strikes on three nearby clans, simultaneous with the single flight slipping on a round-about course north to hit the tree.
Sighing again, she brushed a few blonde hairs from her face and shut the system down.
It's going to all come down to how much time they give us, and what Sully does. I need to train my people before I trust them to launch a combined-arms assault in this jungle. If they start moving in the next week, or two, it will have to be Red. The more time they give us, the more I'll consider Green. She blew out a breath and headed for the cafeteria, fully intent on devouring the fettuccine that was on today's menu. And if Sully actually does something, maybe a civil war might still happen.
Date: 10:18 AM, September 19th, 2174
Location: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System
She moved carefully, body stooped, through the alien tunnels, clutching the machine producing precious light within her hand.
Pey'ral didn't know how long she had been down beneath the soil, only that far too much time had passed, and that she longed utterly to escape from this vile place.
That her right arm screamed with pain whenever she moved it was not aiding her ability to think. The strange sky person weapon had torn through it fully, and she knew that even though the wound would not threaten her life, it would be months before she could use a bow once more.
Coming to an intersection, she searched her memory, attempting to remember what turns she had taken, following the nantang when she first entered this place.
Biting her lip, she glanced both ways down the corridor before sniffing the air, hoping to catch even the slightest bit of fresh air.
Only blood, fear, and death filled her nostrils, and she grimaced.
Even the screaming, shouting, and sounds of battle had largely faded, giving her little chance to use her ears.
Biting her lip and letting her tail thrash, she moved right, praying to Eywa that she would guide her out of here so that she could once more wrap herself in Unil's arms.
Continuing to move through the hall, her light illuminated the bodies that filled it, and despite being a hardened warrior, accustomed to the sight of death, she had to work to control her stomach.
Nantang bodies littered the floor, their paws and limbs draped over one another. The cause of their death was visible at the end, a torn apart sky person clutching a bloody weapon far larger than any she had seen, another dead alien was visible just behind it, her own body clutching a similar weapon.
They must have been guarding something.
Hope beat a staccato rhythm within her heart, Perhaps they defended the exit, staying behind to give the other warriors time to flee?
Steeling herself, she moved slowly over the corpses, trying to push what she was walking on from her mind.
The sight of a blue arm, buried beneath the weight of the nantang, did not improve her mind. Nor did her grisly check to ensure that it was not her life-mate help.
Resuming her grisly trek, another scent reached her nostrils.
Burnt flesh.
Carefully, she reached the passageway the sky people had fallen defending, and she raised her light to peer inside.
Spinning aside, squeezing her eyes closed, she fell to her knees and began to retch and heave, continuing to do so even as her own vomit splashed onto her legs and it became nothing but pain from the motion.
Staggering to her feet, stumbling, she fled as quickly as she could, whimpering noises escaping from her throat as she moved.
Sight, sound, reason, logic, faith. All abandoned her torn mind as it frantically tried to forget forever what her eyes had seen within that room.
Moving frantically, she fell even as she reached the passageway she had once turned from, moving past it on her hands and knees, not even hearing the keening wail and moans that escaped from her mouth.
Voices.
Words.
Something was calling her.
It was calling her name.
Her eyes slowly focused upon a male Na'vi, of her clan, at the end of the passageway, illuminated by the light her hand clutched to.
"Pey'ral!" he called again, voice hoarse.
She blinked at him, mind trying to grasp what was happening.
He opened his mouth to call again, even as a harsh crack split the air, and he fell, clutching at his throat as his life's blood poured forth.
The male tried to turn, to raise his knife with one hand, only for another crack to resound, blood and brain exploding from the rear of his head as his body fell limp.
Her mind, already bent beyond breaking, snapped further.
Everything became a rush of sensation, of feeling. The walls blurring past her as she ran. The sight of a badly wounded sky person, her face oddly beautiful, eyes wide with terror, as Pey'ral hurled her body forward on all fours like an animal towards her.
Everything became red.
Her hands hurt.
Her right arm was numb.
She could taste blood.
Blinking her eyes, she slowly faded back into reality. A female sky person lay dead before her. Dark purple marks covered her body, blood seeping from her slim mouth. A metal weapon, broken, lay nearby, as did a machine that created light.
She shook her head, pain and dizziness following as she did so, and she had to reach a hand out to keep her balance.
Tail drooping near lifelessly behind her, she gazed around, seeing a dead warrior behind her, and numerous dead nantang along the floor.
Numbly she picked up the strange machine that cast the white light, and began to make her way along the passage.
Unil will be waiting for me when I leave this place.. she will be there, and we will leave this haunted place forever..
Down several passageways, far behind her, in what had been the control room for the defenses of Site 01, a horribly burnt corpse of a Na'vi female lay sprawled across a holographic table, her skin and muscles had been consumed by the fire, leaving her face, set rigid in utmost agony, to stare sightlessly forever.
A pair of human nurses glanced at one another as the comatose form below them twitched slightly, eyes moving in the characteristic way of dreamers, before the native woman settled into a deep sleep once more.
Next up is Interlude I: A Better Tomorrow
And here is the end of Act I: Dying Dreams. We'll have an interlude followed by the start of Act II: Red Moon's Rise up next.
Glad to see that everyone is still enjoying the fic. I can't promise this speed of updates anymore, but I'll keep trying. Hope that everyone likes this chapter, especially considering I had to re-write it cuz I didn't like how it was going.
Pey'ral has dueled Tsu'tey and lost, so now Jake must decide how to handle his son even as the humans gear up for an assault.
Our interlude will take us back to Terra, see how things have gone over there.
Please, for the love of whatever, keep reviewing!
