It has been confirmed ya'll, I don't own Avatar.
Epilogue I: Hurricane's Passing
Date: 06:30 September 28th, 2174
Location: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System
Maria Thomes groaned, flailing around blindly with an arm to shut off the blaring of her morning alarm. Glaring at the cheerfully glowing numbers, she slowly heaved herself into a sitting position and glared some more.
Rising to her feet slowly, she shambled to the bathroom, muttering to herself as she showered and dressed, dreading the day that was ahead of her.
The previous day had been a nightmare, a very long nightmare. Observing the battle from afar had been the easiest part of her day. Dealing with wounded "friendly" natives, dealing with wounded "unfriendly" natives, an irritated Selfridge, an irritated Theodas, and skeptical base personnel had left her exhausted. Every crisis had to be handled by herself, typically with either Katrina Thorton, whom she was growing fond of, or Max Patel with her to translate.
At least Mu.. Mu.. Mu-whatever his name is is reasonable for a blue-skin. It had gone a lot better than she had thought it was going to, anyways. The crisis that had crept up throughout the day, though irritating, had largely been minor. The native leader had largely kept his own people in order, as far away from the make-shift prison camp as he could.
Which suited her and all the other homo sapiens just fine, the fewer native fights that they had to break up the better.
She sighed softly after finishing buttoning up her shirt.
And by comparison, yesterday was easy compared to what today brings. Need to find out if this was enough to finally break their damn spirits, convince this goddess tree of theirs to stop attacking us. Privately she doubted it, but it was a matter of appearance. The troops, especially Kozlov's Russians, were getting tired. More than simply exhausted in body, their spirits were failing them, as day after day of tension slowly crushed them downwards.
I hope to hell that this means the blue-skins are finally wising up. Making a final check that her hair was still regulation short, she palmed the access panel beside her door and joined the steady stream of people shuffling along, heading to whatever posts were theirs.
Nodding politely to those who offered her brief salutes, she carefully threaded her way through the light crowd, making her way up several stairwells to the Ops-Center.
Parker and his foreman were already there, both guzzling steaming coffee and frowning at the holo-table, which currently was displaying the wire-frame image of the main excavator. Blinking red sections seemed to indicate where it had suffered the most damage from the fire, and it was at those sections the two men were gesturing at as they spoke.
"I'm telling you we can splice this section, link it over to t he cables on the other side. It might run a bit slower but it'll save us sixty meters of cable!" Buck Keppler defended,the tone of his voice indicating it was not the first time he and Parker had had this debate.
"It'll save us the cable now, but how long is it going to take?" Parker challenged back, "And how will it handle over time?"
"Give me my best mechanics back from Theodas and we can rig it up to last long enough for the plant to catch up and manufacture the parts to replace it properly."
Her sometimes-lover sighed, rubbing a hand across his forehead. Before he could interject again, she interrupted them, moving up to the table, "Good morning gentlemen. Something I should know about?"
"Good morning Commander." Keppler spoke politely, while Parker nodded slightly as he sipped more of his drink.
"I take it you have a plan then, Mr. Keppler?"
"Yes ma'am, with your approval," he hesitated a moment before launching into an explanation. Much of it was technical information about the incredibly massive machine that went over her head, but the gist of it was that he and some of his mechanics had come up with a way to jury-rig it to save on parts. In theory, at least.
"And your opinion Mr Selfridge?"
Parker sighed, "In theory, it will work fine. We'll need to pry our best mechanics out of the AMP bay and out of that make-shift tank to pull it off though, which will delay any after-battle repairs that Theodas wants. There's also the issue of what happens if it malfunctions during operation."
She sighed, "Best and worst cases please."
The foreman took the first one, "Best case is the fail-safe that we'll put in at this junction," he gestures, "shuts the whole thing down, and we fix it normally, downtime will be a week or so."
"Worst case is that the entire left power supply tears itself apart, and we have to build a new one." his boss supplied the darker side, "And we have to install it. Figure a month, at least, plus the extra material usage."
"How are we on the quota?"
"Still ahead, but if we don't resume mining within two weeks, we'll fall behind." Parker supplied.
It was her turn to rub her forehead and sigh. "I'll talk to Brian and see if he can afford to lose the mechanics." she gave the foreman a slight glare, "I want whatever you rig up to be as redundant and safe as is humanely possible Mr. Keppler."
He nodded solemnly, "Yes Commander."
As he wandered towards the communications officer, no doubt to start working with the mechanics and engineers he currently had, she flicked the control panel on the holo-table to bring up the base itself.
"Looking forwards to a day with the natives?" Parker asked over his mug, brown eyes smirking at her.
She glared at him, "In a word? No. No I am not."
He settled his cup down, lip twitching to keep a smug grin from his face. "What's the plan for the rest of the senior staff then?"
"Theodas will be here keeping an eye on things, along with Prochnow. Werner and Kozlov are sitting put in case there's a group we missed. You'll be overseeing the repairs at the mining site, and then assuming joint command with Theodas starting tonight."
That earned her a blink, "Going somewhere?"
"I'll be on tonight's Valkyrie to the Dream, taking the wounded up then broadcasting a report back home." she explained, eyes watching the small icons representing the blue-skins slowly wandering around the small area they had claimed, "I'll be back tomorrow afternoon with the walking wounded and anyone else whose fit to return."
He nodded, "I'm going to head to the mining site then, oversee what I need to while I can." He moved off, eying her a bit more than was appropriate as he moved past.
Smirking slightly at that, she sighed and straightened, her mind slowly ordering her thoughts, preparing for the debates and arguments that she was sure her conversation with the natives were going to cause.
Hopefully Sully and that Chieftess aren't comatose anymore, hard to negotiate with only one member of an alliance or whatever they are.
Gazing blankly at the three dimensional image before her, she continued marshaling her mind.
First point, we're sick of fighting. What little patience we had for them is over.
Second point, we will leave it to them to police themselves, but if they move against us in force we will retaliate.
Third point, we would much rather leave them alone, given the option.
She grimaced.
Fourth point... we owe this group for attacking the idiots that wanted to attack us.
She had a bad feeling that several of the natives, definitely including Sully, would be aware of the last point. While she could, and part of her wanted to, refuse to give them anything, it would sour their already dismal relations, and this could be the only chance they had for decades to get at least some of the natives to stop attacking them. Maybe even act as a buffer-zone between Tartarus and any other clans that wanted to attack them.
Slowly spinning on her heel, the Commander of the human forces began to make her way towards the nearest airlock, deep in thought as she did so.
And then there are the prisoners. I wonder if they would even understand the concept of parole. She snorted, Of course, that would assume that I would want to let them go free in the first place. First chance they had most of them would group up with whomever to attack us again, or harass us at least.
Absentmindedly, she grabbed an exopack off of a nearby rack before stepping into the airlock, letting the cycle being as she placed the clear mask over her face.
Perhaps only keeping those of fighting age...that might be something, a gesture of some good will at least. I doubt the elders or the kids will be at all eager to join some crusade. Them spreading the story of what happened here might help as well... worth thinking about..
Coming back to herself as the red light flashed twice, indicating it was time for her to step outside, she sighed and heaved hard on the handle, stepping into the dawn light.
Nodding to the two guards, she paused to blink at the sight of an AMP suit, the snarling wolf on it's front staring down at her.
"Sergeant McCarthy, what are you doing here?"
The female AMP pilot once assigned to watch over the wounded native princess brought her machine to attention and gave a sharp salute, "Colonel Theodas' complements ma'am, he doesn't think you should be without an escort."
"He does, does he?" She was equal parts annoyed and grateful. While it did save her the trouble of locating an escort on her own, it came close to overstepping his bounds. Resolving to both rebuke and thank him, she nodded at the machine. "Very well, come with me Sergeant, we have a long day ahead of us."
Lumbering battle-suit in tow, she made her way towards the waiting natives.
Date: 07:45 September 28th, 2174
Location: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System
Jake'sully, former North American Union marine, former Avatar, former Toruk'makto, current Olo'eyktan of the Omaticaya, watched as Maria Thomes made her way towards the small camp that he and his... followers he supposed, had set up.
They had claimed one of the few sections of the base where grass still covered the ground, and most of his people were still sleeping upon the ground, the exhaustion of the previous day more than enough to keep even the earliest risers slumbering.
A few of his people were up and about, mostly standing guard, watching the tawtute work and hissing at any that got too close.
He frown slightly as the golden-haired woman and the AMP suit following her slowly drew closer, pausing every so often to speak with various people who crossed her path.
The Olo'eyktan sighed, She's definitely dragging her feet. I suppose I can't blame her, I'm not looking forwards to this either.
A quick glance to his sides showed the other two clan leaders, both looking as worn-out as he felt. Mu'ran looked as though he had gotten no sleep, his normally erect posture slumping as he fought to keep himself awake and attentive.
Jake grimaced a bit at that. He had done nothing but mourn the previous day, staying with the body of his son, tuning out all else around him. At some point in the afternoon he had simply collapsed from exhaustion, waking only for the dawn.
Knowing his duty, he had asked one of his surviving warriors to stand watch over the slain, before finding out what he could about what had happened after the humans had transported them all to Tartarus. While he was dealing with his mixture of grief, self-loathing, and despair, Tun'txampay had also been.. indisposed. That had left Mu'ran to handle everything, and while the young man was intelligent, he had never had to deal with humans before.
By all accounts, it was a miracle that he was conscious at all.
His quick glance had shown that Tun was not fairing much better. According to his warriors, she had been nearly catatonic after arriving, simply sitting upon the grass and staring at whatever came into her view.
Can only guess what's going on in her head.. with the loss of so many of her clan.. will they even be able to continue? Will they have to merge with another clan? He shook his head slightly, Will anyone even accept them?
He wished he knew the answers. From the expression on her face, she did not know them either, and it was eating away at her.
Covering another grimace, he turned back as Thomes and her clanking escort arrived.
None of us are in any state to be doing negotiations, especially with this bitch.
"Good morning Sully, good to see you up and about and not moping around."
Jake twitched slightly. "Good morning Miss Thomes, glad to see that you're still an overbearing bitch."
The woman craned her neck up so that she could look him in the eyes and gave him a tight smile, "I can tell that this will be productive."
He glared down at her, "Perhaps you should have started it differently then. What do you want?"
"Never to see a blue-skin for the rest of my life," she gave a slightly theatrical sigh, "But I'm not that lucky. I'll settle for what you intend to do now."
"She is so insolent." Mu'ran muttered, "I can tell it in her voice even if I can't understand her."
"Yes." he supplied simply, "She wants to know what we intend to do now?"
"Besides return to our clans?" Mu'ran shrugged, "I doubt any of the local clans will dare attack the sky people again."
"The local clans, perhaps. But what of the island clans, and those beyond this region?" he replied, shaking his head.
"Maybe. Maybe not." Tun mumbled quietly.
Both men glanced at her, nearly identical grimaces covering their faces at her emotionless voice.
"Do I get an answer?" the human interrupted.
The paired grimaces turned to paired glares directed at a new target.
"Oh, I'm being intimidated then?" she cocked her head to one side, smirking as the AMP took a single step forwards.
Jake grimaced at the machine and its grinning wolf's head, "The local clans should leave you alone. Even the ones that still want to fight won't have the warriors or hunters to do so anymore. It'll take generations to recover."
"Yes, yes," irritation crept into her voice, "What about your goddess and her little pets? What about the clans that both you and we humiliated sending shouts for help?"
"We.. don't know." he admitted.
"Of course you don't." she muttered, then sighed. "And what do you want us to do with our prisoners?"
He blinked, "You're asking us?"
"For suggestions." she stressed, glaring. "I'm not about to turn them all loose, especially those of fighting age, but if you have any idea where we should haul the elders and children I'd be happy to get them out of here."
Tun interjected tonelessly, "What does she want?"
"She wants to know where they should take the elders and children of the plains clan."
"What of their hunters?" Mu'ran asked.
"You can guess, brother."
The younger male frowned, "They won't be able to feed themselves easily, or well. They will have to be brought to a clan. Perhaps.. we could ask the Green River clan?"
"I'll send an ikran'makto." Jake nodded, "We can send a runner to a clan nearby, see if they will accept them."
"Odds?"
He mulled it over, "Fifty-fifty. If they turn us down we can ask other clans on the plain."
She grunted, rubbing her neck with a hand, "Go ahead and send a rider. When are you and your friends leaving?"
"Soon as possible." he supplied. "I was hoping to send everyone we can back by tonight."
"And your wounded?"
"We'll be going with us."
A golden eyebrow arched at him, "And those that can't? I was led to believe that several are too wounded to be moved."
"A few volunteers will stay behind with them."
Something about the conversation seemed to be bothering the human commander, her body shifting from side to side in an unconscious manner as she mulled it over.
"One warrior." she supplied finally.
"For all of our wounded?" came his indignant response, "Five, at least."
"This is not a negotiation." her voice turned sharp and cold, "One. The huntress is staying, so far as I know, so technically you get two."
He glared at her for a moment before translating for the other two clan leaders.
"One warrior? And Pey'ral? As injured as she still is, she should not count." Mu'ran snapped, "Tell this -"
"I will stay." Tun stated simply, cutting him off.
"Tun.." Jake said quietly, "You're clan.."
"Is no longer mine." she shook her head, "The only way for them to survive in the seasons ahead is to merge with another clan, one where I will not be an Tsahik, much less an Olo'eyktan."
"Whose clan?" Mu'ran asked softly.
"Whomever will accept them."
Jake spoke without thinking, "I'll talk to Mo'at, I'm sure we can work something out."
The warrior-tsahik bowed her head slightly, "My thanks brother."
"But why stay here? Why not go back to your clan to help them move? I can have one of my warriors stay." the young clan leader protested.
The female clan leader bowed her head, "I will return when I am ready to tell them what comes for us."
"They'll already know." Jake spoke softly. "Or they'll guess soon enough."
Tun's head did not raise, "True..perhaps..but that does not ease my pain."
Jake stared at her for a moment longer, before quietly translating for the human woman.
Date: 10:16 September 28th, 2174
Location: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System
Pey'ral moved slowly, one hand pressed lightly against the side of outside wall of the tawtute building.
"That's it, slow and easy." Norm'spellman spoke encouragingly, carefully moving along next to her, another tawtute toktor followed behind them, pushing the rolling 'chair.
"I know." she murmured softly, glaring at her legs, "They are too weak to do anything but move slowly."
The small tawtute male gave her a slight grin, "Part of being injured I am afraid."
She groaned and nodded, concentrating on moving one leg in front of the other.
Normally she would be wincing in distaste with each step upon the smooth, stone-like surface that the aliens loved to cover the ground with, but at the moment, she was too glad to be up and walking to complain aloud.
"How long until I no longer need to sit in that thing again?" she asked after a short time, pausing to simply enjoy standing upright again.
Norm'spellman sighed, "For the fifth time, child, at least a week."
The beads in her hair clacked against one another as her snapped around to glare furiously at him, "What did you call me!?"
He small face split into a grin, "A child. One who asks the same question over and over in the vain hope of getting a different answer."
Have I really asked him that many times? She did a quick mental count. Not liking the answer her memory provided, she settled for continuing to glare at him.
Still smiling cheekily at her, he resumed speaking, "Evi. Child. Yep, suits you."
She sputtered, "Evi!? No one has called me that since my grandmother passed!"
"Not true, I just called you it not more than a few moments ago." He resumed walking, "And I think it suits you actually. I'll be sure to tell Jake that. And Max. and John. I'm sure the entire clan will be calling you it by-" he yelped and jumped ahead as she swiped a hand at him, hissing softly.
"You. Will. Not!" Bad enough that she was stuck here for seven more days. Bad enough that she still had to put up with vile-tasting tawtute medicines. Bad enough what she had gone through the previous several days.
There was simply no way that she was going to return to her clan, resuming her duties as the senior huntress, only to be called that.
Her only tawtute friend moved quickly out of her reach, away form the building she was leaning on, offering her an even larger grin as he did so.
"Only an Evi gets so worked up over something as little as a nickname." he teased.
She hissed slowly, her eyes narrowing, judging the distance between them, and how much strength she had in her legs.
He grin faded as he watched her think, but before he could do anything, she lunged.
Ignoring the pain in her leg and her belly, her right hand shot out and grabbed the front of his shirt, dragging him back with her as she wobbly resumed her upright stance next to the structure.
Plopping him onto his feet, but not letting go of the cloth, she craned her neck to glare down at him.
"Um.. I was.. just joking?" he spoke slowly, eyes very wide as he stared up at her.
She kept her glare in place, slightly baring her fangs. "You had best been."
The toktor behind them giggled suddenly, and both of them turned to stare at the man, who grunted something quickly in inglisi.
Norm'spellman's face flushed bright red and he replied hotly in the same tongue.
"What did he say?"
"Nothing!" he shook his head, face even brighter.
She tapped the clear material of his face-covering and narrowed her eyes before repeating herself.
"Um..he said we should stop flirting."
The huntress blinked, "What does that mean?"
"Um.. it's what humans do who like each other."
Pey'ral blinked some more, "We are friends, so what is wrong?"
He shook his head, looking away, face still hot, "Not like as in friends, like as in... wanttobemates."
It took her ears a moment to translate the babble into actual words. When her mind finished, her spots lit up in embarrassment and she spun to glare at the other toktor. "No! We were doing nothing of the sort!"
The man's giggle turned into pealing howls of laughter, leaning on the building as he cackled.
"Um.. Pey'ral?"
Still thoroughly embarrassed, she glanced at the toktor again, craning her neck downwards.
"You're still holding onto my shirt."
Her hand snapped open.
"Um.. Let's go back inside?"
She nodded quickly, she had made enough of a fool of herself for one day. Hopefully the other tawtute had not noticed.
Date: 13:22 September 28th, 2174
Location: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System
"Sooooo..." Norm raised his head from the table to glare at Katrina, he voice bubbling with girlish excitement as she settled down on the other side of the dining room table. "I heard that somebody might have a thing for our tall, blue friend."
"And where would you have heard such a ridiculous story?" he spoke through clenched teeth.
"Sergeant McCarthy." she beamed, speaking around mouthfuls of Ravioli as she began to eat, "She was about fifty feet away in her AMP, recorded the whole thing."
All the silverware on the table jumped and crashed down as he let his head slam into the cheap metal.
"Please tell me you're joking?" he whispered.
"Nope, she's selling them at ten bucks a copy." she continued on, seemingly enjoying his deepening horror, "I heard it from the other pilots. Bets are already being laid down."
He snapped upright, "Bets!? On what!?"
"Whether or not you figure out a way to sleep with her."
The skinny doctor could only gape at the blunt reply.
Some of the cheer drained from her voice, "Don't go to the Commander about this Norm. You can bitch about it to Max, but don't do anything official."
"Why the hell not!?" he snapped, his sanity on a shoestring.
His friend regarded him seriously for a moment, "Norm, have you been out, amongst the soldiers at all lately? Amongst the miners? Or the pilots?"
Blank eyes blinked at her, "No."
"Morale is slipping, Norm. I mean badly. This place was built to hold twice as many people as it does." her voice turned quiet as she explained, "We just fought another set of battles, one-sided as they were, long after Oberst Weigand sacrificed himself in what was supposed to be the last big fight."
He started to see where she was going, and fought to restrain a wince.
"The Commander is trying to keep things up, but she's not personable like he was. The games help, so do the movie nights that Selfridge set up. But the longer this goes on…" she sighed, "They need something to make them laugh, Norm. Even if it's something as stupid as betting about you and Pey'ral having sex."
She smiled at him, "Besides, if it was Max sitting there, instead of you, you know you would be laughing your ass off and already have money in."
His head slowly settled onto the table again, as he sighed, "Fair point, I guess." he paused before asking quietly, "How many did we lose yesterday? I... didn't think to ask."
The response came just as quietly, "Three dead up north, nine injured. Mining site lost a half-dozen, mostly civilians killed while trying to fight the fires. Three times that wounded."
Letting the information soak in, he remained in place before quietly talking, "The Na'vi didn't get off easy either. Tun'txampay lost everyone who followed her. The Green River clan lost their Olo'eyktran and half their warriors. Jake's only got four left, and the Great Lake clan is below half. God only knows how many of the kids died. Stupid... pointless deaths."
Her hand tugged sharply on his hair, dragging his head up as he yelped. He yelped again as a hand slapped across his face.
"Norm, stop it. I've dealt with your depression enough." she snapped. "Go back to Hell's Gate and bitch to Max about how unfair life is if you want to, but don't fucking do it with me."
"K-Katrina?" he managed to stammer, holding a hand to his face and blinking furiously.
She glared at him, "Norm, ever since we lost Bruce and Walsh to those nantang you've let your depression control you. Sometimes you get over it, and then you let it run all over you again. And I'm telling you that I'm sick of it."
He tried to work out something to say, but something between his PHD equipped brain and his vocal cords seemed to have shorted out.
Meanwhile the rant continued, "And what's worse is that Max is starting to lose it. I'm not going to sit her and let both of you cry on my shoulder. I've done my duty as a psychologist dammit and I'm sick of it."
Tossing her plate aside, she smoothly stood and strode away, shoulders hunched in tight anger.
He could only watch her go, body numb, mind still struggling against the repeated mood whiplashes it had been forced to suffer through.
Slowly gathering himself, the lanky man made his way to the airlock, barely aware of donning an exopack and heading for the platform.
Nodding blankly to the pilot of the Tartarus-Hell's Gate shuttle Sampson, he clambered in, laboriously buckling himself in.
"Doc? Hey Doc!" the pilot shouted at him a mere moment later, and he stared at the frowning face.
"You all right doc? We been here for ten minutes now." the pilot asked, concern lacing his voice.
His head slowly spun around as he blinked furiously. Sure enough, they were settled onto the ground in front of the old Armory block, members of 'his' science time frowning at him from the ground.
"I... don't even remember the ride here." he admitted.
The pilot stared for a moment then shook his head, reaching to his throat, "Doctor Patel, Doctor Spellman is here., and I think he needs your help."
Is that how she really feels? Have I really been that much of a burden on them both, for all these years? He didn't pay attention to his assistants carefully guiding his body out of the tiltorotor craft, all his focus inwards.
I couldn't have been that bad! I helped hunt! And cook! And clean! And I worked for so long on my research! He struggled through his memories, Wait... I did help hunt, right? I... I think I did. I know I did research… and I think I cooked.
Max's frowning face swam slowly into view, a light flashing in each of his eyes, and he could hear people talking far away.
I didn't spend all of my time moping, being a burden on them, did I? I couldn't have.. but.. then why was she so angry? Why was she so pissed off? We've been friends for... comprehension slowly, too slowly, began to dawn upon him. When was the last time I talked to her.. or Max did.. really just.. sat down and hung out? Or worked on the same thing.. or got drunk together...
Every-time I've been with around.. all I've done is be depressed...
The realization sickened him, his stomach churning as his body was slowly led to the former link-room.
No wonder she snapped when I got mopey about yesterday.. she probably knew people who died.. people who actually were around with her. All I wanted to do is bitch about people laughing at me and Pey'ral... and mourn the dead... she was trying to keep the atmosphere up.. .hell, she even told me that people were getting stressed out.
Max and the part-time scientists carefully picked him up and settled him down into his bed, setting his blanked around his body and slowly shutting it.
He sobbed once as the darkness moved in, I didn't even realize that she might be one of the ones on the edge... so... stupid.
Alone, in his mockery of a coffin, Norm Spellman mourned a lost friend.
Date: 19:22, September 28th, 2174
Location: Omaticaya Kelutral, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System
Mo'at watched the slowly approaching ikran, her body sagging slightly at how few were returning. She could hear the quiet gasps and sobs as the other members of the clan who held vigil beside her took in the sight.
"So few...", her daughter whispered, drawing close, lightly holding onto her arm as her eyes tracked the ikran'makto's approach.
"Since when have many returned from battle with them?" her old ears could barely make out John muttering to himself.
She turned back and glared at him, his ears flattening in shame as he grimaced and looked away. Thankfully, her daughter had not seemed to have heard, her eyes too busy staring into the sky.
The tsahik was dimly aware of the children being rounded up and led into the kelutral, even as more adults began to slowly gather around them, the majority of the clan awaiting the news of what had transpired.
Five...only five warriors...how many of our finest died this day..
"Those aren't Tsu'tey… or any of his kin.." one of the elders spoke just loudly enough to be heard, his brow furrowed, "Those are the elder warriors, who followed orders only the Olo'eyktan knew of."
Quiet conversation broke out at that, and she felt her daughter relax significantly. "Tsu'tey and the others must still be out there then, though I wonder what brings these hunters home?"
A sickening feeling began to slowly creep into her gut, as the brilliant colors of Jake'sully's mount became identifiable in the waning sunlight.
Oh Eywa.. please... please let me be wrong...
The slight flutter of unnaturally white cloth, held lightly in the clan-leader's arms, only further increased the turbulence within her.
Slowly, the excitement and relief that had arisen with the knowledge of the returning clan leader and elder hunters gave way, once again, to fear and dread, as they closed enough that all could make out the bundled shape that he held tightly to his chest.
By the time he and the other four slowly settled down upon the ground before them, total silence reigned as dozens of pairs of golden eyes stared upon their leader.
As though in great pain, he carefully dismounted his ikran, who let out a mournful wail before taking to the skies once more.
Shuffling like an ancient elder, it took many moments before he arrived before them, standing with his head bowed.
Her eyes could not leave the small, bright red stains upon the fabric.
"He... he died for his beliefs." Jake spoke slowly, quietly.
Neytiri, hand shaking, reached out, and lightly touched the white bundle, where her son's head would be, tears streaming down her face.
She bit her lip and bowed her head, whispering a quiet prayer to Eywa, before she asked her question, "And the others?"
It took a moment for him to reply, and when he did it was exactly as she had guessed, "Those who lived are held captive by the sky people. They have.." his voice broke, "They offer to bring the rest of the slain to the kelutral for proper burial."
"They OFFER?" Neytiri snarled, "When it is THEY who cause us to bury our young!?"
Both the Olo'eyktan and the four warriors behind him winced, none meeting the eyes of those around them.
Mo'at watched as her daughter stared at her mate, confusion and incomprehension warring upon her face.
She opened her mouth before Neytiri could, asking the question she did not want the answer to, "How many did the sky people kill, Jake'sully?"
Jake winced as though she had just struck him.
"Many..." he whispered quietly.
"But not all?" she pressed gently.
His eyed remained bowed, understanding and shock slowly spreading through the assembled clan.
"Not all." he confirmed softly. "The... the Eastern Sea clan... the Green River... the Great Lake... they followed me into battle."
Her daughter's mouth moved, but no sound emerged. She tried again, and whispers slowly came forth, "You... you fought against your own son? Your own people!? Your own goddess!?"
Jake left his head bowed for a moment before raising it, his back straightening, "I had to."
"You had to!?" his mate shrieked, causing Mo'at to wince, "You had to kill your own son!?"
The returning shout caused all assembled to wince, "I DID NOT HARM HIM!"
Whatever sorrow Jake'sully felt, the pain that had seemingly crippled him, seemed to vanish as he snarled in sudden rage.
She could only stand, stunned, as he ranted, "You think I WANTED to fight them!? You think ANY of us wanted to!? It tore our hearts out! But do you know why we did it!? Because we CAN'T beat them Neytiri! You think we can still beat them? That we can drive them back? They're NEVER going to stop, and if we keep attacking them, they're going to get sick and tired of us and they're just going to KILL everything."
Mo'at glanced at her daughter, eyes wide, to see and identical expression upon her face, as her daughter's mate continued to rant.
"Hell Neytiri, you've SEEN what they can do; you've seen it inside me, whenever we bond. You KNOW they could kill us all with less effort than it takes a hunter to slay a tapirus. The only reason they haven't is because THEY, unlike MOST OF YOU, are trying to do something RIGHT for once. Even that ice bitch of a leader they have has done more than MY OWN PEOPLE to stop this insanity."
The raging fury seemed to slowly seep out of him, his body slumping, as he clutched his son's body to his chest, "I... I had to pick a side. I had to fight. No matter... no matter what I did, the clan was going to suffer... I chose the path that kept as many people I loved alive as I could."
She stood with the rest of the clan, mouth agape, staring at the young man who had led her clan since that previous day of pain, so long ago.
"I'm not an absolute ruler, I can't make any of you do anything... but I am done. I'm finished." Jake said, after letting sometime of silence pass. "I will fight no more, forever." his head bowed once more, "Now... now I will mourn my son. And remember him."
He slowly made his way into the crowd, warriors following him, as the people parted. After a long moment of hesitation, she slowly turned and followed him. A moment later she heard her daughter's footsteps as she did the same. Then more, as the entire clan slowly made their way into their keltural, to bury a young man slain before his time.
Next up is Epilogue II: Passing of the Fallen