Avatar is the property of people who aren't me. This work of fiction is not authorized by those people.
Tseyo woke up early after the tribe's celebration to return to the site where the Sky People had been cut down. He was hoping the creatures of the jungle had not carried away the materials for his crafts in the time since the battle, and he was not disappointed.
On the ground where the kunpongu had been positioned were countless, metallic artifacts strewn about. He was told that each one was a quiver for an arrow that was launched from the Sky People's weapons, but they looked more like thin, elongated beads. They were something less precious than gold, but still rare to him. As Tseyo found evidence that others of his clan had been back to the site in order to scavenge souvenirs, he wasted no time gathering up as many of the beads as he could carry.
His next treasure, however, was not on the jungle's floor, but among the bodies of the slain: the hands and teeth of his two kills.
Severing the hands was easy, but Tseyo encountered more difficulty collecting the teeth. For the time he spent at the grisly task, Tseyo would discover that the putrid smell of death which permeated throughout the battlefield, perceptible almost from the moment he left Kelutral's shelter, was less easily removed from clothing than were even the teeth from their skulls.
Tseyo sat on the shore of a nearby pond – his clothes hung from a tree to dry after a second washing – while he not-too-delicately removed the soft tissues from the dismembered hands. Although he wanted to be careful enough to remove the bones intact, he felt little obligation to respect the bodies of the Sky People who had sought to destroy his home.
After he had quarried the bones, he dropped them into a gourd of boiling water in order to macerate remaining tissue. Following a long swim in the pond – and after his clothes had dried from a fourth washing – scraping his skin with a cleansing stone, he drained the boiling water into the jungle and returned to Kelutral.
He stayed in his hammock the next day to polish the bones and metal beads he had collected. The following day, he set about the meticulous task of assembling the beads into a two string necklace, using sap to ensure the beads would not slip out of their loops. In order to merge the two strings into a single piece of jewelry, he used the ring Khutxo gifted to him as the centerpiece.
Tseyo set the necklace aside and began work on his second craft. He carefully laid out the bones and teeth and, finding he had more finger bones than he needed, happily gifted the smallest excess bones to some children as they passed his hammock. Night had fallen by the time he finished assembling the bones into an armband.
The next morning, he tied the band on his right arm and packed the necklace into a pouch before descending the tree to seek out Naw'ngié.
Tseyo found her at the archery range talking with a group of her friends, and he waited for a lull in their conversation – as much for convenience as to give his heart time to steady itself – before he approached her.
To his relief, she smiled at him as he approached. "I see you, friend."
"And I see you, friend," he replied. He nodded at the other women, "And you, sisters." They nodded at him with gentle smiles. He turned his attention back to Naw'ngié. "I was wondering if I could talk with you a little while." He glanced over at the other women before going back to her. "Just us together, if that is agreeable."
"Ah," she paused to look at her friends, silently seeking their counsel. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see them nod. Naw'ngié looked back at him and replied with a smile, "Of course. Is there somewhere you wanted to go?"
"The river is nice this time of day," he said, "and not too far. I wouldn't want to keep you from your friends for long."
"We won't mind," Ma'kon, one of the females, said with a grin. "Naw'ngié needs to take longer walks."
Naw'ngié reached out to hit her, but she was not fast enough to land a strike. The others politely held back their laughter, but he could see that they had to make an effort of it. She narrowed her eyes at them, then looked back at him and said, "I agree that the river is nice." She did not wait for him to lead the way, and the two headed away from the giggling females.
When they were out of earshot, he rubbed the back of his neck and said, "I didn't mean to embarrass you."
"You didn't," she replied with a smile. "She's right – I should take more walks."
"I'm glad I could be the one to walk with you today."
"So am I."
They were silent for a while after crossing the threshold between the jungle and the well-packed soil that marked a boundary between their home and the wild. However, they knew the lands around their home so intuitively that they were quick to find a footpath that would take them to the river.
In order to fight his nervousness, Tseyo allowed himself to admire the beauty of the jungle. The air was still heavy from the morning mist, and rays of light pierced through the canopy. Even though they were not far from Kelutral, the noises of the tribe's daily routine were muted by the dense foliage, replaced with the chatter of the jungle's inhabitants.
Though taking the time to appreciate the life which surrounded him did help settle his spirit, Tseyo's primal consciousness reminded him of the point of this particular excursion. He looked over his shoulder and saw Naw'ngié staring back at him with a sideways grin and her arms crossed. If it were night, she would have no problem seeing the touches of light on his skin become bright with his embarrassment; but the obvious flicks of his tail were enough to betray him in the light.
Tseyo let out tried to laugh off the embarrassment and said, "It's a beautiful day, isn't it?"
Her grin became a smile. Naw'ngié uncrossed her arms and continued walking down the path towards the river. "Yes it is, acolyte," she said as she walked past him, holding her smile.
He took a hurried few steps to catch up to her, and then he asked, "How have you been since the battle?"
"Well," she replied. "But I spent so much time in preparation that I very nearly forgot what it is to be leisurely. Filling the empty time has been difficult." She looked at him as though wanting to say something else, but she paused when she saw his bone armband. "Did you make that?" He nodded. "I like it. Are they from your kills?"
"Yes," he replied. "I had planned to dye them, but I think I like them naturally."
She brushed her fingers over the band. "It's strange how fragile their bones are," she said. "I'm surprised they don't break like clay."
"I think that's why they're so eager to destroy other life and surround themselves in shields," he replied. "They're too afraid to break."
"Well, we broke them," she replied with a wry smile.
Tseyo smiled in response, but found himself with nothing further to add. A short time later, his nerves caught up to him again, which prompted him to ask, "Have you come this way with others?"
Naw'ngié chuckled and cut to the heart of his question. "If I had made a choice for a mate, Tseyo, I would not be with you right now."
He tried to mask his sigh as a laugh and said, "I'm sorry. I haven't taken a walk like this before."
She smiled and replied, "Maybe it would be easier if we stopped calling it 'walking.'"
Tseyo stopped and took a deep breath. He looked at her and said, "I would like to court you."
Naw'ngié smiled. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"
He rubbed the back of his neck again and, grinning, replied, "No, but then I've been practicing."
She put a hand on his shoulder and said, "I would like you to court me, Tseyo." He was relieved by her response, but having taken a moment too long to dwell on it – and on her touch – she said, "You know, it's a custom for the suitor to present a gift."
"I was hoping to present it to you at the river," he said with a grin.
She took his hand and said, "Then let's not wait any longer." He nodded, and the two continued on the footpath. A few moments after they resumed walking, she asked, "So, you've been practicing?"
"Yes," he said candidly. "I've wanted to ask you for a long time, but I didn't think I would be someone you'd choose."
Naw'ngié smiled and said, "A while ago, you might have had good reason to worry. But I've seen your courage, and the love you have for Eywa." She punctuated her opinion with a nod up the path.
Tseyo chuckled and replied, "Yes, Mehi'a often remarked that my mind wandered too much in the jungle. She said it's what kept me from being a better hunter."
"Don't be," she replied, quickly squeezing his hand. "I thought it was very endearing." Naw'ngié rubbed his forearm and continued, "I'm very sorry about your sister, Tseyo. Her energy was beautiful. But I hope you have some peace, now."
Naw'ngié was one of the fortunate people whose families had survived the horrors of their childhood unscathed. Her father had only recently gone over to their ancestors by a misfortune while hunting. Her mother seemed much longer for this world, and her younger brothers, while too young to have fought, were fast following in Naw'ngié's footsteps as able warriors and hunters.
Like many such families, hers seemed to have understood the extent of their blessing, and so made it a point to be charitable to people like him who had known tragedy. While as a child he would sometimes resent the deliberate attention, he grew to appreciate it deeply.
"I do," he said solemnly. "Thank you."
Naw'ngié smiled, but then abruptly returned to the matter at hand. "Too many of the males who've asked me to 'walk' with them have thought that I'd choose them on their fighting or hunting abilities alone." She snorted and said, "I can fight. I can hunt. I don't need someone who will try to match me – I want my mate to help me see with fresh eyes."
"I can be that person," he replied.
"We'll find that out with time," she said. Soon thereafter, they arrived at the riverbank. They sat opposite of each other, and she asked, "So, my suitor, what gift do you have to offer me?"
Tseyo took the pouch from his belt and slowly, carefully withdrew the necklace; and he was relieved to see that it had not fallen apart. He held it out to her and said, "I know one day, when we are all ancestors, they'll sing songs about how you led the kunpongu against the Sky People. However, I thought you should have something in our time to honor what you did."
Naw'ngié's eyes went wide, and she took in a sharp breath. "Tseyo—," her voice trailed off. A moment later, she carefully took the necklace from his hands and held it up. "Tseyo, this is beautiful," she said. "You made this?"
He nodded.
She ran her fingers over the ring at the center of the necklace. "You scavenged all this from the battlefield?"
He nodded again.
Naw'ngié was silent for a few moments, although it was painfully long for him. She broke his anxiety when she said, "I accept your gift, Tseyo. Thank you." She smiled and asked, "Would you put it on for me?"
He obliged her request, and as soon as he completed the knot at the back of her neck, she crawled over to the river's edge to inspect it in the water's reflection. "This is far too precious to wear daily," she said, "but I will wear it at every ceremony, in every ritual." She looked over her shoulder at him and smiled. "Thank you, Tseyo."
"You're welcome," he replied with a smile. "I'm glad you like it."
Naw'ngié came back from the water to sit with him. Until this point, they had not spent much time alone together. He knew very little about her, and he knew that would not be acceptable if he could expect to be chosen as her mate. Tseyo was committed to making the effort.
He took her hands in his and was readying to start a conversation when he noticed a runner emerge from the jungle farther down the riverbank. The runner saw Tseyo at the same moment and hurried up them. "Olo'eyktan has asked for everyone to gather," the runner shouted from a distance.
Tseyo and Naw'ngié looked at each other, and both sighed. Naw'ngié turned to the runner and said, "We will be there shortly, brother," she shouted back.
"Have you seen any others along the river?" he asked. Both shook their heads. He ran off along the bank regardless.
"It must be urgent," Tseyo said, taking a moment to watch the runner hurry away before looking back at Naw'ngié. "We should go."
She nodded, and the two stood to leave. "There will be more time to get to know each other, Tseyo," she offered. She smiled and added, "We will have more walks."
They held hands on the way home.
Tseyo understood the urgency of Jakesully's call for the people's assembly. The olo'eyktan outlined for the tribe the threat that the Sky People continued to pose to them, and the plan to fight them off once and for all. The clan was stunned into silence, however, when he said that one of them was being asked to volunteer to go to the Sky People's realm in order to ensure the plan's success.
"The risks are great," the olo'eyktan said at the end of his announcement. "But so is the threat. I can't – and I won't – demand that one of you go. However, I do believe that the future of our home requires this sacrifice."
The silence lingered on until someone asked, "What do you think, Tsahik?"
Neytiri, standing beside Jakesully, took a deep breath and said, "The Sky People's world is very different from this one. There are many dangers, and I think very few people will be able to face them. I believe whomever goes will return with scars which can be seen and which cannot."
The people began to talk quietly among themselves, although hundreds of voices talking quietly together soon became a cacophony. Naw'ngié contributed to the noise when she turned to Tseyo and said, "Madness. There must be another way." He could only shrug.
There were more questions for Jakesully, but Tseyo found himself too lost in thought to pay attention. The Sky People had already returned once in the face of defeat. He, like many, had hoped that the toll they had exacted in this last battle would have been enough to convince the Sky People to stay away; but if Jakesully believed that they were coming back regardless of their losses, if they would always come back, then perhaps that justified more drastic actions.
Tseyo was taken out of his thoughts when olo'eyktan said, "If there are any volunteers, please step forward."
The silence was heavy, and nobody moved against it.
Jakesully sighed. Neytiri put a hand on his shoulder, and the two began to talk quietly to each other – as, once again, did the people.
At that moment, Tseyo found himself overcome with disappointment in his kin. Their home was under threat, and nobody had stepped forward to answer the call for its defense. Were they too selfish in victory that they would put their own lives over those of their family? Too many lives had been lost because the people waited for the attackers to come to them, so why was nobody willing to sacrifice to ensure that the people – from their tribe and all others – could flourish in peace?
He turned to Naw'ngié, who was engaged in talking with one of her sisters. A moment later, however, she took notice of him, and their eyes met. She was about to say something, but she stopped after the first syllable. Naw'ngié must have seen his intentions, because her eyes went wide. "You aren't—," she began.
Tseyo briefly lowered his head, taking a final moment to consider his course of action, and then he began to push through the crowd.
"Tseyo!" Naw'ngié called after him, immediately calling the attention of the people around them, but he ignored their stares and did not look back.
It was not long before the rest of the people noticed him making his way towards the altar, at which moment he no longer had to push through the crowd – it parted for him. He stood before the leaders of his tribe and said, "I will go, olo'eyktan."
Norm would never understand how elderly people were able to get out of bed at the most ungodly hours in the morning. More than twelve years of living with Pandora's lower gravity had taken its toll on his body – it did not help that he routinely failed to exercise, but then he was never athletic – and he felt almost twice his age.
This morning, however, he was being given an extra incentive to wake up: Someone was pushing on his shoulder. He responded to the agitation by burying his head in his pillow. "Max, if that's not you, go away." He paused and added, "Even if it is you, go away."
"Has it really been that long since we shared the bed?" Amy replied.
Norm turned over to look at her. She was sitting on the bed's edge and looked back at him with a crooked grin. He took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes before he sat up and said, "It's certainly felt like that long."
"Four months in confinement will have that effect," she said.
He dodged the subject. "Should I bother to ask how you got in my suite?"
She smiled and replied, "You never removed my biometrics from the lock."
"Oh." He sighed and said, "Well, that doesn't mean it was an open invitation."
Amy's smile faded and she raised an eyebrow. "I thought you wanted to talk."
He chuckled and began to reply, "Yeah, but I didn't think—," but he could not complete his thought. Norm sighed and said, "Okay, you're right. Forgive me if I'm a bit slow, though, I'm not…"
"You're not a morning person," she said for him. "I remember."
"That's right."
She took a deep breath and said, "I'm not going to lie: I think what you did was pretty fucked up. Handing me over to Jake's posse like that—," she shook her head. "Norm, you had to know what they were planning to do to us! You've been studying them long enough."
"Actually, murder is so rare among the Na'vi that we've never had a chance…"
Her expression hardened, but her eyes spoke of an intense disinterest in his perspective as an anthropologist. "Norm," she said flatly to cut him off. She did not need to say anything else. He got the hint to get back on the subject.
He sighed and replied, "Okay, yes, I had an idea of what they were going to want to do to Abe and his informant, but I figured Jake would have enough control over the clan to maintain separation between the guilty and innocent."
"Then why didn't you just leave the rest of us out of it?"
"Honestly?" She nodded. "I didn't know how innocent you were. I mean, you are – were – the military strategist of the team."
Amy looked both amused and appalled by his explanation. "So you think I would have ordered Devon to kill that girl? What planet are you on?" He raised an eyebrow, and a moment later she rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean."
He let out a short laugh, a release for his anxiety more than for levity, and then responded seriously, "I don't think you would have ordered Devon to commit murder. I don't think Abe did, either. However," he paused to emphasize the qualifier, "you sent the guy into the clan with a specific mission of undermining their ability to resist an occupation; and then you had no way to control him. That was reckless. It was begging for something to go wrong."
"How is it any different than what the Avatar Program was doing? Look at what happened with Jake and Neytiri!"
"We were monitored!" he said defensively. "And then we'd come out of our machines and document the smallest details of our encounters, Doctor Augustine made sure of it. We were studying Pandora and the Na'vi. It wasn't until Quaritch recruited Jake that avatars posed any risk to the Na'vi."
Amy let out a short, harsh laugh. "Oh c'mon, Norm, you're not that naïve. RDA wanted the avatars to make the Na'vi trustful of humanity in order to make their job easier."
"But we weren't being deceptive about it," Norm replied. "Yes, we were sent there to build trust with the Na'vi. We knew it, and they knew it. Your guy was there to deceive them. That's a lot different from trying to build trust."
"The outcome was going to be the same."
"And would that have been better or worse for the Na'vi?"
She rubbed her forehead. "Not this conversation again." Amy sighed and said, "Look, I still think what you did was – I don't know that I would have done the same thing in your position. But I think I've come to understand your motivations.
"More importantly, despite what I think, or what you may have thought, you did end up coming to save us, and I haven't thanked you for that."
Norm scratched at his neck and replied, "Well, I can't honestly say that I'm sorry for what I did." He saw her nostrils flare but continued regardless. "But given what could have happened, or what probably would have happened, I couldn't just wash my hands of it." He looked at her and frowned, "I am sorry for what ended up happening to you. If I had known for sure that was going to happen, I might have done things differently."
Amy frowned. "Is that the best I can hope for?"
"I didn't want anything bad to happen to you," he replied, "but I can't apologize for how I felt at the time."
She rested her head against the bed's headboard and did not respond for a while. She frowned again and said, "Well, I guess there are other things to stay upset over."
Norm did not have a response for that. He looked at her and asked, "So, what about us?"
Amy chuckled and looked back at him. "I was set for execution and have spent the better part of four months making every possible justification to hate you. A pseudo apology isn't going to reverse all of that in an instant – Hell, neither would a full, on your knees, three-part apology." She took his hand in hers and added, "But at least you're still reliably, sometimes annoyingly honest."
He squeezed her hand and said, "Give it some more time."
"And still stubborn and over-confident."
Norm stuck his tongue out at her, and she gave him the finger.
"Well, that was a mature resolution," he said with a laugh. A moment later, though, he became serious. "I assume Abe's told you about his plan." She nodded. "What do you think?"
"It's dangerous to say the least," she said. "More than a little bit crazy. But the more I've thought about it, the more I think it could work."
"So you're taking part?"
Amy nodded slowly. "Not without reluctance, mind you, but I see his point about throwing away lives and resources up here that could be put to better use back home." She paused and asked, "What about you?"
He nodded. "I don't think I have much of a life left up here," he said solemnly, but honestly. Jake had made it clear that the Na'vi were done coming to the constant aide of the Hell's Gate residents – at least for now – and his former teammates were no closer to accepting him back into their folds after he, in their opinion, became too close to Abe through his partnership with Amy.
"But if I can do something good for the Na'vi on my way out the door," he continued, "then I think it's worth the risk."
To say that Jake – or anybody for that matter – was surprised when Tseyo's stepped forward at his call for volunteers would be an understatement. Tseyo's volunteerism had caused such a commotion among the people that Jake had been unable to interrogate him in the atrium. Instead, Jake and his council met with Tseyo among Hometree's crown branches.
Although Tseyo was a capable fighter and hunter, he could say the same thing about most of the people. Jake knew Tseyo better as a healer, as one of Mo'at's protégés. Jake, while believing Tseyo's earnestness, had a difficult time coming up with questions to ask him that would not be in the vein of, Is this a joke?
As such, Jake deferred to Mo'at for the first question. Sitting beside Tseyo, she placed a hand on his knee and asked, "Why are you doing this, Tseyo?" Her tone was like that of a worried mother. "You have so much here – so much love from the people."
"Nobody else stepped forward, Great Mother," he said. "It wasn't right."
"Then are you being serious about volunteering, or did you just want to make a point?" Nakllte, sitting on Jake's left, asked more seriously.
"I'm serious," he replied, turning to meet the warrior-general's glare. "I want to defend our home. If nobody else wants to do it, then I will."
"Why?" Jake asked. "Why do you feel like you have to be the one to do this?"
Tseyo was silent for a moment while he looked at the others seated around him. He then looked at Jake and asked, "Do you all not want me to go?"
"We want to make sure your head is in the right place," he replied.
On Jake's right, Neytiri quickly added, "And your heart."
Tseyo nodded slowly, and then he responded to Jake's question. "Everything I've suffered has been because of the Sky People. If they come back, there will be more suffering. I don't want that for anybody."
"Is this about defending the people, or getting revenge?" Nakllte asked. "The two aren't the same."
"Mu'kuti is dead," Tseyo replied. "And the ones who killed my father are dead. I don't want to take revenge against all Sky People, I only want them to stay away."
"When they take you up to the sky, you will be gone for a very long time," Mo'at said. "Are you prepared to be taken beyond Eywa's embrace?"
Tseyo was quiet for a moment, his head bowed in contemplation. He looked up and asked, "How long will I be gone?"
"You'll be asleep for most of the time," Jake said. "But when you come back," he took Neytiri's hand in his, "the child she carries now will have grown to be a young and able hunter."
Tseyo's eyes briefly widened, and he returned to a contemplative silence. "When I am asleep," he asked after a while, "will I become a dreamwalker?"
"You won't dream," Jake replied. He chuckled and said, "It will be like you've had too much tìngasunilzyu." Tseyo grinned, and some of the others laughed. However, the moment of levity was short-lived, and Jake asked, "What do you envision the Sky People's world to be like?"
He shook his head slowly and said, "I haven't thought about it a lot." He paused and continued with a wry grin, "If it is like the Sky People themselves, though, I imagine it's very small. And it must be cold, since they wear so many clothes."
The council laughed; and although Jake was humored by Tseyo's gut impression, his response was more tempered. He smiled and nodded, but then he took a deep breath and said, "Their world is actually bigger than this one, and very hot. The plants are all dead, and the sky is sick. There are times when the sun is supposed to be high in the sky, but there is only blackness. The Sky People are as numerous as raindrops in a storm, and they live in dark towers of stone – some taller than our home."
Jake had tried to use images familiar to Tseyo, but he could tell by the expression on his face that the picture he painted was either too vague or too alien for him to imagine. Jake figured that the only person present who would be able to understand his description was Neytiri; and when he took a moment to look over at her, she had lowered her head and appeared as though she was mourning.
Tseyo shook his head again, like he was shaking out the images, and replied, "It doesn't matter. I am ready to do what is necessary."
Jake nodded. "Then let's decide that, now," he said. He looked over at Khutxo. "You've been quiet. Do you have anything to ask him?"
Khutxo shook his head and replied, "He stepped forward when nobody else would. That was enough for me." He put a hand on Tseyo's shoulder and said emphatically, "You have my confidence, brother."
"Nakllte?"
"No more questions, olo'eyktan, but I want to spend time with him on the fields before he goes."
"Is that a vote of confidence?" Nakllte took in a deep breath before he nodded.
Jake looked to Neytiri. Her head was still bowed, and he did not need to prompt her for her opinion. "This is wrong," she said. She raised her head and continued, "He has such a good heart, but his energy has been obstructed by sorrow. Sending him away will not help him heal."
"My daughter is right," Mo'at said. "Your light has not been as brilliant since Mehi'a was stolen from you – from all of us. I think it will only be more painful for you if you leave Eywa's embrace."
"Respectfully, Tsahik, and Great Mother, I think the opposite," Tseyo said. "If I can help prevent any more grief, if I can ensure the safety of the people, then my energy will be free again."
Mo'at nodded and replied, "Your freedom begins when you can choose your own path." She looked at Jake and said, "I believe he is ready for this journey."
Jake watched as Neytiri looked between Mo'at and Tseyo. She frowned and said, "If it's your choice, I won't oppose it." Tseyo appeared relieved, but Neytiri gave him pause when she pointed at him and continued sternly, "But if you are going to take on this responsibility, then you must be focused on nothing else. Nakllte will train your body, but you must train your heart and your energy." She took a deep breath and concluded, "I forbid you from taking a mate before you leave."
Everyone in the circle, most of all Tseyo, was taken aback by the decision. Mo'at was the first to raise her objection. "Is that necessary, daughter?"
"Warriors like to choose their mates just before great hunts or fights," she said, "or weave them into the courtship. It will be a distraction for him at a time when he must be focused on nothing else."
"The bond that warriors forge with their mates can sometimes strengthen their resolve," Khutxo said. "Respectfully, Tsahik, I think this is cruel."
The look Neytiri sent back to Khutxo in response strongly suggested she couldn't care any less about his opinions of cruelty, and the way his ear twitched under her glare revealed that he heard her clearly and made the wise decision not to try and defend himself.
"Tseyo will not be gone for a few days on a hunt," she said pointedly. "He will be gone long enough for a child to come of age," she raised her finger and added, "or he may not come back at all." Everyone was silent for a moment while they let that sink in. "What's cruel, Khutxo, is that we are allowing him to go to that Earth at all. It would be crueler still for a woman to be left here in mourning, not knowing what happened to him."
"Neytiri's right," Jake said after taking some time to think through her argument. "Even the Sky People understand that – the ones who come to this place are often chosen because have no family to speak of back on Earth. The time that they're away would be too much for many families to handle."
Tseyo took a deep breath and nodded. "I understand," he said. "I will devote myself to this journey. I promise you, Tsahik, and I thank you for being able to see what others did not."
Neytiri nodded. "Then you have my support."
Jake looked at Tseyo and said, "It's been decided. You will go with the Sky People."
"All right, let's go," Norm said to the SecOps captives. He tilted his gun up towards the lead captive's head and said, "No surprises."
"You wanna watch that thing?" the prisoner replied. "Fucking safety's off."
"That's kind of the point," Norm said.
Abe left the renegades to do the heavy lifting on the prisoner transfer. His only interest was making sure nothing happened that he could not have anticipated. Whereas Chairman Savage had been fed a plausible story to mask Abe's intentions, the crew of the ISV Event Horizon had been fed complete lies. Their only job, as far as they believed, was to wait in orbit for pandorium shipments to resume.
Instead, they would be heading home well over a year ahead of schedule.
Luke, one of the renegade avatar drivers, had been a military pilot before joining RDA; however, he lacked the expertise to fly a Valkyrie. Instead, the prisoners were loaded onto the light shuttle that Abe and his team had brought over on their smaller, faster ship, the Cybele.
Once the prisoners were secured, Laura and a handful of the other renegades brought cartons containing the personal effects of the slain mercenaries. Their bodies had been interred in a mass grave just beyond Hell's Gate's perimeter. As they collected the bodies, the grave detail discovered the extent of the Na'vi's mutilations – hands, feet, scalps and, in some cases, tongues had been collected. In some instances, there was evidence that the people were not quite dead at the moment they were set upon.
Abe tried to put that out of his mind.
He took the copilot's seat as Luke finished the pre-flight check. Once the renegades had secured the cargo, the shuttle set off for the Event Horizon. Luke opened up a channel with the ISV crew once they had left Pandora's atmosphere. "Event Horizon, this is Cybele One requesting permission to dock and offload wounded personnel."
The ship responded, "Cybele One, we're reading you as a class four vessel. Do you have docking ability?"
"Affirmative, or else I wouldn't be trying," Luke said. "Have your crew meet us at the bay."
"Copy that. We are sending approach vectors to your computer. Stand by."
The shuttle's autopilot took over, and the craft banked to offer Abe a view of Pandora. He recalled the first time he saw Pandora from orbit, when he marveled at its beauty. Now, however, he considered its beauty a Siren call. Hundreds had already been lured to their deaths and, despite his plans, Abe was sure more people would learn first-hand about Pandora's dangers.
Luke, on the other hand, did not seem to share his views. "It's something else, isn't it?" he said while gazing out the window.
"I think I've seen enough," Abe replied. That was the extent of their conversation.
Minutes passed before the Event Horizon came into view. The autopilot continued to do most of the work up until the last few feet, when Luke completed the docking procedure. "We're locked," he said. "The gangway needs to pressurize before you can open the lock. I'll call back when we're good."
Abe nodded and moved from the cockpit into the cabin. He looked at Norm and his team and said, "I guess I don't need to tell you to get your weapons ready." They chuckled, but Abe continued. "Sean and Max, stay onboard and guard the prisoners. The rest of us will secure the crew, and then come back for you. If they try anything stupid, shoot them. The shuttle's hull is designed to withstand a collision with space junk at twenty-thousand miles per hour, so your bullets won't hurt it."
"What are we going to do?" one of the prisoners asked. "Hijack the shuttle and go back down there? Fuck you, man."
"I'm just making the point," Abe replied.
"Feel free to keep your goddamned points to yourself."
"We're pressurized," Luke called over the intercom. "You can open the hatch."
The Event Horizon crew was caught by surprise when Abe and the others emerged from the gangway with guns rather than wounded soldiers. They did not need to have the situation explained to them in depth, and they did not resist as they were led to the cryobay.
While the others took care of escorting the prisoners to the cryobay and stowing the deceased soldiers' personal effects, Abe headed to the command center and activated the routines for the return voyage to Earth. He set a thirty minute delay to ensure that they could complete their work and make it back to Pandora without getting caught in the ISV's plasma wake.
Their mission accomplished, Abe prepared to retire to his quarters when he was stopped by Luke and Max. "Listen, Abe, Norm filled us in on your plan," Max said. "Most of us – well, almost all of us – are happy to stay here."
"Norm's told me as much," Abe replied. "So if that's all you wanted to tell me…"
"Luke and I have been talking," he interrupted, "and we want in."
Abe raised his eyebrows. "Really?" He crossed his arms and asked, "What made you change your minds?"
"Doctor Augustine had years of research up here that haven't made it home, and I don't really trust that sending it back on the next wormhole to RDA will get it in the hands of the right people."
"I know the head of the R-and-D department," Abe replied. "Trust me, he'll pay close attention to what goes back."
"You're asking me to trust you?"
"You're asking me to go on my mission, Doctor. I'm telling you to trust me, or you'll stay here."
Max sighed. "Look, there are more people who could benefit from this research than just RDA. Given that you're no longer an RDA suit, I figure what do you care if I send her research notes to some universities – which, of course, have no idea that these wormhole communications are going on, much less any way to tap in."
Abe considered his argument, and then he said, "So you're not really looking to be in on the mission itself, you just want a ride back to Earth?"
"Pretty much, yeah. And I'd rather go with you than take one of the ISV slow boats."
Abe chuckled and replied, "I didn't know seventy-percent the speed of light was a 'slow boat.'"
"It is compared to your ship's eighty-five percent."
He nodded. "All right, I'll take you on." He looked at Luke and asked, "And what's your story?"
"I just want to kick some ass," he replied with a shrug. "I can't not punch back."
Abe grinned and said, "You know we're trying to do this with as little ass-kicking as possible, right?"
"I thought that was the goal of your last plan, and look how that turned out."
His grin faded, but only slightly. "Well, don't complain to me if you get bored along the way."
"Somehow I get the feeling that isn't going to be a problem."
"All right," Abe replied with a sigh, uncrossing his arms. "I'll brief you on your role when we get closer to the launch date. Enjoy your last month here in the meantime."
Luke nodded, and then turned to leave with Max. Abe assumed he was free at that point, but then Norm caught him in the hallway. "Jake's on the radio," he said.
"Did he say anything to you, or did he just ask for me?"
Norm snorted and curled his lips, as though Abe had asked the dumbest possible question. "Of course we talked," he replied. "But most of that doesn't concern you."
Abe gave a wry grin and asked, "Or does it concern me, but you just don't want to say it to me?" Norm's short laugh in response was enough of an answer for him. "Lead the way."
A short walk later, Abe was seated at the field radio Jake and Norm had been using for years to maintain communications in their preparation for RDA's return. He skipped pleasantries and asked, "Jake, do I need to come up with Plan B?"
"Surprisingly, no," he replied. "One of the people volunteered to go with you."
"Just one, huh?"
"Just one." Abe told himself that he should not be surprised, but he could not help be a little disappointed. He had assumed the Na'vi would jump at the chance to take the fight back to Earth, but apparently that assumption had been wrong. "But somehow I don't think you're too surprised by that."
"Not at all," Abe replied. "So, what can you tell me about him?"
"You know him."
Abe laughed. "Jake, my rolodex doesn't have too many Na'vi in it – any Na'vi, actually."
"Oh, I think you remember him. Does Tseyo te Kllkx Muitan ring any bells?"
Abe could feel the blood drain from his face. "Devon's executioner?" he asked.
"The people have been calling him Ewya's arm of justice – or that's the closest translation, anyway," Jake replied.
Abe sighed. "There's no chance you could get someone else to volunteer, is there?"
"Nope. Take him or leave him – literally in this case." Abe was at a loss to respond. Yes, he needed one of the Na'vi to come back to Earth, but he did not expect that the only one who might go back would be the one with a biggest axe to grind with him. As though he could read his thoughts, Jake added, "He's said that this isn't a revenge mission for him. He's not out for blood."
"Bullshit, Jake," he replied. "Every Na'vi has to want revenge against RDA for what's happened to them."
"That's not how the people think," Jake replied. "They've killed the people who forced them from their home. They've killed the people who wanted to force them out a second time. Tseyo killed Mu'kuti. Those loose ends are all closed as far as they care."
"Then why does he want to come back to Earth?"
"He wants to make sure there isn't another wave of Sky People to fight off, not to draw blood from any particular person."
Abe sighed and took a moment to rub his temples. "And what do you think, Jake?"
"Other than that this whole thing is crazy?"
"Yes, other than that."
"I think his head's in the right place," Abe replied. "But to be fair, I don't think he fully appreciates what he's getting involved with."
"But he's not one of your best," Abe observed.
There was a pause before Jake replied, "He's capable, and he's one of my people." Abe was getting ready to ask another question when Jake said, "Abe, I'm not going to give you a lot of time to debate or think about this. You asked for one of my people, and this is who stepped forward. Accept him or don't."
"Fine," Abe replied with some hesitation. "How do we get him ready?"