Avatar is the property of people who aren't me. This work of fiction is not authorized by those people.
Tseyo waited patiently for the first attack. He stood in the center of a ring of stones in the middle of the clearing where he had been training for more days than he cared to count. Nakllte had given him a number of new scars, and Norm had done much to alter his perceptions about what faced him on his journey. Despite the many obstacles and challenges they presented to him, he had persevered through his training.
This was the second day of this particular test, as he had failed to meet his teachers' standards the day before.
He kept his head lowered, as his test was to be able to anticipate the coming attacks without using his sight. Tseyo was beginning to get tired when he heard someone running at him from his left. He turned just as the warrior was upon him, and the two began to wrestle.
Tseyo had to throw him from the ring, and then return to his starting position to wait for the next attack. If he was forced outside the perimeter, the test would start over; if he took too long to throw his opponent out, he would exhaust himself too quickly and surely be defeated in the subsequent attack.
They struggled for a while, but Tseyo soon took the upper hand and ejected the warrior from the ring. As he ran off, Tseyo returned to the ready position – center of the circle, head down.
The next challenger came from behind him, but he used her momentum against her and easily deflected the attack.
The third warrior also came at him from behind – perhaps assuming Tseyo would not expect an attack to come from the same place twice in a row, and he was nearly right. Tseyo turned to meet him too late, and he was almost pushed out of the circle of stones by the force of the blow. However, he managed to dig his heels in, and launched into his counterattack.
The fourth warrior came from his right, and was defeated only after a prolonged fistfight. The fifth warrior came straight at him, and also came close to knocking him out of the ring; however, she lost her footing, and so she was easily pushed out. By the time the sixth warrior attacked from his left, Tseyo was becoming tired, but he managed to maintain a grapple long enough to trip him and eject him from the circle.
The seventh warrior tried to take advantage of Tseyo's weakness and, charging from behind, attacked him low. Though he was knocked to the ground, he was not pushed beyond the stones. Tseyo twisted his body and pushed the warrior off of him. But two times Tseyo tried to get to his feet, and both times his attacker managed to pin him to the ground. The second time Tseyo twisted his way out of the grapple, he landed a blow to the challenger's stomach. As the warrior gasped for air, Tseyo dragged him out of the ring.
Tseyo was breathing heavily when he took the starting position in anticipation of the eighth warrior. His legs burned, and his arms felt strained. He could barely hear the footfalls over his heartbeat, but he looked up to see the eighth warrior coming straight at him. The two were quickly locked in a grapple, and Tseyo was pushed to the ring's edge. Before being pushed out, he managed to grab his attacker's waist, twist, and throw him past the stone perimeter.
He returned to the center of the circle, anticipating yet another attack, when Nakllte called out, "Stop!" Tseyo looked up as the old warrior emerged from his observation post in the jungle. Nakllte approached to within a few hands' distance, and then he smiled and said, "You've done it, Tseyo. You have completed this trial."
It took Tseyo a few moments to think past the pain that consumed him and register what Nakllte had said. But shortly thereafter, the warriors who had been set against him emerged from their respective staging grounds to congratulate him on his success. He was too overcome with exhaustion or emotion to say anything in response – he could barely smile – but he did not refuse any of his brothers' and sisters. They became as one to embrace him.
Nakllte put his hands on Tseyo's shoulders and said, "You have come very far. Whatever you do from here, be proud about what you have achieved."
Tseyo nodded, took a deep breath and said, "I will be most thankful for my teacher."
The old warrior smiled and embraced him as though Tseyo were his son. "You will make the people proud of you," he said. "I know it."
"To my last breath," Tseyo replied, still panting. "To my last breath."
Abe found her cleaning the stovetops. "Laura, can I talk to you for a second?"
Laura had assumed a leadership role over the renegade avatar team as they dissociated themselves from Norm. She had also assumed the top spot of people he hated on Pandora. Norm's passive-aggressive nature annoyed him, but Laura could be counted on for blunt aggression and intransigence.
"You can," she replied without looking at him, "but don't expect me to say anything back."
"I only have two things I want to discuss," he replied.
"I only have two words for you."
He ignored her. "First, I need your help."
"You mean the Great and Magnificent Wizard of Oz doesn't have everything figured out?"
"I have everything figured out," he replied, "but I don't have enough teammates."
She snorted and said, "With your charisma? That's shocking."
Again, he brushed off her comment and continued. "Chairman Savage isn't the smartest person in the world, but even he'll suspect something's up if he stops receiving regular reports. I need someone to keep feeding him bullshit while we're on our way home."
Now she looked at him, eyebrows raised. "And you want me to be the one to feed him the said bullshit?"
"You're overly confident and probably have little moral objection lying to him," Abe said with a shrug. "You're a perfect candidate."
"Maybe," Laura replied, "were it not for the fact that I don't like you and have zero desire to take part in this plan."
Abe crossed his arms and asked, "Are you really going to let your hatred for me get in the way of doing what's best for you?"
"Norm tried that line," she said. "And I get how, on the surface, it would seem like our interests are one in the same. There's just one very key point you're overlooking."
"Enlighten me."
"We can still defend ourselves. Jake's still got his gun-toting warriors, and the SecOps troops they butchered unloaded plenty of offensive gear before they got knocked off."
Abe furrowed his brow and nodded slowly while he tried to process her logic. "So rather than try and guarantee our success in stopping the armada, you want to put twenty lab techs up against sixteen-hundred trained mercenaries."
"Plus a couple hundred Na'vi warriors on our side," Laura clarified. "Besides, they can't unload more than one third of their force at a time."
Abe rubbed his eyes. "And they were calling me crazy," he said. "Laura, you'll be massacred, and then the Na'vi will be massacred. Hell, for all I know, they retrofitted the fleet to be able to just bomb everything from orbit."
"Versus your plan where we all lay down our guns so RDA can sweep in unopposed and resume operations," she replied, stepping closer to him. "You think I don't see what you're up to? Norm may have been sold on your shit, and I can't blame him for that. You're persuasive, and he's an idealist. However, the rest of us aren't idealists – not for a long time, anyway."
"I don't remember ever saying that you all had to become defenseless," Abe said calmly. "But okay, I see your point."
Laura looked taken aback. "So you're admitting to it?"
"Sure," Abe replied. "This was all part of my master plan. I'd abandon my family for more than a decade just so I could come to Pandora, get my ass handed to me, piss off my boss, and get a bunch of soldiers killed just to lower your guard and send in the main armada." He shook his head and asked, "Really, Laura, how crazy are you?"
"Maybe this is just your plan C or D or triple-Z," she replied. "But if you really expect me to believe that you've turned on your masters, you really must think I'm stupid."
"No, I think you're a stubborn bitch who'd rather play one-up than look around and see the truth of things."
She narrowed her eyes at him and asked, "Aren't you supposed to at least try to win me over to get onboard with your plan?"
"That doesn't mean I have to pretend to like you," he replied. "In a few days, we won't ever have to see each other again. But in five years, you're going to be faced with more trouble than you're prepared to handle – even in your obviously wild dreams.
"Now, if you want to cling to your guns and faltering alliances with the Na'vi as some kind of insurance policy, fine. I don't care.
"But if you can get over your feelings for a second to think through this, and if you want to believe that maybe, just maybe, we have a real shot at turning the fleet around and saving you the trouble of martyring yourself for this planet, then maybe you'll want to work with me rather than against me."
"You don't have 'a real shot,'" Laura replied. "You have a one-in-one-billion shot, and that's if you're lucky. But do you know where I have the most trouble believing you, Abe?"
"I can probably guess, but I'll humor you and let you say it."
She curled her lips at him and then said, "It's your so-called motivation. I mean, all of a sudden you realize that RDA is evil and has to be stopped, after everything you've done. Honestly, Abe, how long have you worked for RDA?"
"Long enough to have known for a while that RDA accurately fits most people's definitions of 'evil,'" he replied. "Until now, I believed that the ends justified the means. Now, however, I see that this particular project is no longer suited to RDA's goals." Before she could respond, he added, "I haven't turned my back on RDA, Laura. Congratulations, you've caught me on not being forthcoming on that point. I've only turned my back on Chairman Savage and this world."
Laura hesitated before she replied, "So you're still working for the enemy?"
"For your enemy," he said. "I mean, first they'll have to give me my job back."
"So—," she could not finish her thought without lowering her head and pinching the bridge of her nose. "So you want me to help you overthrow the current leadership of RDA just so you can keep working for RDA?"
"And to keep this place from being overrun by mercenaries," he replied. "Yes, that's what I'm asking you to do. And if your priorities were in order, I'd say that last one should be on the top of your list."
Laura shook her head and said, "And – I dare to ask – what are the noble goals of RDA that you want to protect from Savage and his misguided ways?"
"Saving Earth," he replied flatly.
Laura laughed. "Wow! Man, Abe, they must have really gotten in your head," she replied. "Okay, well, before I turn you down, what was the second thing you wanted to discuss?"
Abe figured she thought he would just walk away at this point, but he had no intention of backing down on this point. "I want you to put the kids on the miners' ship when we turn it around."
In less than a heartbeat, Laura went from laughing at Abe's expense to being visibly horrified by his suggestion. "What?"
"I want you to get the kids out of here," he said. "If my plan fails, whether because you won't help or because it's just a lousy plan, then they're going to be killed by the mercenaries. If it succeeds, they're either going to be killed by the Na'vi if they're lucky, by some animal if they're unlucky, or they're going to die a slow death if they're really unlucky."
"Who the hell are you to make that call?" she asked incredulously. "I don't know how big you think your balls are, but…"
"Dammit, Laura!" he interrupted. "Reach into your not-too-distant past and think like a scientist again. Your people have managed to come together in eight breeding pairs. The children, assuming you don't have any more, potentially have six. If, by some miracle, they actually live long enough to procreate, they may end up with four pairs at this rate. Along the way, they're going to have to sustain this habitat, which even you people are having a difficult time doing at your strength.
"I'm sure you think you're giving them the gift of living in some paradise, but you and I both know that it's closer to a slow death in a Potemkin village."
"So you'd rather they all live in a post-apocalyptic wasteland?" she asked, her tone unchanged from before. "That's hardly trading up."
"At least it's survival," he replied. "Even if Earth is beyond the point of no return, humanity will find a way to survive. Here, humanity is on a guaranteed course to extinction; and you're giving your children expectations of a future that they will never actually realize.
"Call me and RDA evil all you want, but what you people are setting those kids up for is outright cruelty."
She shook her head. "You make it sound like we never thought about that."
"Only that you didn't think about it very hard," he replied.
"We did," she said pointedly. "And you know what we decided? We decided that it would be better for some people, somewhere, to grow up in paradise, while the rest of humanity lurched towards extinction, than to keep this all to ourselves."
It was rare for Abe to be at a loss for words, but this was one of those moments. He was unable to get his mind around the idea that guaranteeing the end of humanity in one place was somehow better than giving it the hope to endure in another – especially for the unfortunate generation which found itself at the end of that inevitable future.
"All right, Abe, here's what I'm going to do," Laura said after his silence dragged on. "I'm going to give you a choice. You can either have me help you, or I'll convince the others to put their children on that ISV. I'm not going to do both."
Abe took a deep breath and crossed his arms again. "Let me guess: I don't have time to think about it."
"Nope."
He nodded. "All right, well, if you thought I was going to be caught in some kind of morality trap, I'm calling your bluff," he said. "Meet me in my office later to run through your cover story."
Earlier in the day, Tseyo had gone through the Uniltaron to commune once more with his spirit animal, fkio. In embracing his energy and deeper conscience, fkio flew with him between the worlds and carried him back to safety. He had expected that to be the extent of the rituals to mark his departure – for most, a single undertaking of Uniltaron was enough for a lifetime – but his people had other ideas.
When he returned home, his tribesmen began performing a mix of dances which blended together the rituals of Iknimaya and 'angtsìk hunts. Tseyo supposed it made sense – in a way, he was about to ascend to the heavens; and, in another way, he was going to hunt a great beast. What made the ceremony truly strange, however, was its sole dedication to him, an honor typically reserved for the ascension of olo'eyktans and tsahiks.
More than a few of the dancers on display had modeled their costumes after Sky People – indeed, some of the costumes incorporated garments of the Sky People, ill-fitting though they were – and they spent as much time at the dances as allowing themselves to be hunted down and felled by groups of children.
Like all celebrations, there were more than enough spirits to go around; however, Tseyo refrained as much as their customs would allow. He wanted to be sure he would remember tonight.
As the night went on, the dancers gathered around the ceremonial mound at the center of the atrium floor. Tseyo was gently pushed by his fellow tribesmen towards the front of the rapidly congregating audience. Once at the front, he was beckoned by Neytiri to sit among her, Nakllte and Jakesully. Norm, too, eventually emerged from the crowd, and after passing Tseyo to pat him on the shoulders, sat between Jakesully and Neytiri, leaving Tseyo between the leader of his tribe and its warriors.
Soon after, Mo'at, taking on the role of tsahik, took to the mound.
She looked at him and smiled, and then said, "Tseyo, the people have long admired your dedication to learning the songs of our ancestors and embracing your bond with Eywa." He was humbled as many cheered her remarks and those seated nearest to him patted his shoulders.
"And so you know it is our custom to only compose songs for great ones after their energy has returned to Eywa." She paused. "However, the journey you are about to undertake is so extraordinary that we could not help but forego our customs."
He knew she was being kind. They were honoring him lavishly tonight because of the chance that he would never come home. Still, he smiled at her kindness.
"And so, Tseyo, your family has composed this song for you. Tonight, you will see yourself through our eyes." Mo'at stepped down while the people whooped and applauded for the dancers to take the mound.
To his surprise, Naw'ngié was the first dancer up, dressed as fkio, having departed from a traditional costume only by the necklace he had crafted for her. One of his brothers sitting nearby leaned over and, just above a whisper, said to him with a grin, "Don't give in to vanity, Tseyo. You aren't that beautiful."
He chuckled in response and turned just enough to show he acknowledged the joke, but Tseyo kept his eyes fixed on her.
Flutes accompanied the first part of the dance, which reenacted his childhood. Playing off his namesake, Naw'ngié danced as an artist, painting the blank, hide masks of other dancers on the stage.
Then a more familiar dance took hold: the destruction of his ancestral Kelutral. The Omaticaya had long ago put the tragedy into song. It served as a reminder for all the survivors, a tribute to the dead, and a lesson for generations to come.
Dancers dressed as Sky People stormed onto the mound as drums pounded, joined by the great trapeze drums higher in the tree. The dancers shouted in ejectives, mimicking the horrifying sound of their home's collapse. The Na'vi and Sky People dancers then reenacted the battle which ensued, at the end of which the Sky People were expelled from the stage.
In normal ceremonies, that would have been the end of the dance; however, it continued with the search for their current home. Naw'ngié was joined on the stage by Vezek, dressed as his sister's spirit animal, the pa'li. The dance did not include a reenactment of how their mother died during the exodus, and flutes once again took over for the drums, but they were played solemnly. Nobody who experienced the exodus would remember it as a happy time.
The next act, accompanied by light drums, and shorter than either of the previous acts, played out their growth as acolytes. Then a new character came on stage. He wore two masks and a combination of two costumes – one was a Sky Person, the other a palulukan. It was Mu'kuti, although he was stripped of his alleged spirit animal, the nantang, for the evil and uncelebrated bane of the jungle.
Tseyo managed to keep his anger in check while the dance reenacted Mu'kuti's seduction and murder of Mehi'a. After her death, the Sky People danced in celebration while he searched for her. Upon discovering her body, he set upon the Sky People and killed them one at a time until it was down to him and Mu'kuti. They dueled, and with Eywa's assistance, he emerged triumphant.
He raised an eyebrow at the final act. Nobody present could have possibly believed that account on factual grounds, and he wondered if that was truly how they saw him. However, the people were more than pleased by the performance. As he tried to push the doubt out of his mind, another thought occurred to him: What if that was a representation of what they expected him to accomplish?
When the dancers took their bow, the clan cheered wildly. All who were seated within arm's length of Tseyo reached over to leave their impression. The dancers motioned for him to come forward; and when he did, the clan erupted again.
Naw'ngié stepped off the mound, took his hand in hers, and raised his arm high. "Our witness!" she shouted.
"We see him!" the tribe responded in unison. He noted that even Norm called back.
"Our warrior!"
"We see him!"
"Our spirit!"
"We see him!"
At that, Naw'ngié lowered his arm, and Jakesully and Nakllte stood to take places by his side. The olo'eyktan turned to Tseyo and said, "You are going to a very dangerous place."
He nodded.
Jakesully tapped the sheath of the dagger Tseyo wore on his belt. "Nakllte has trained you well, but this isn't going to be enough to keep you safe."
Nakllte untied a dagger from his belt and handed it to Jakesully, who promptly withdrew it from its sheath for Tseyo and all to see: It was the ceremonial dagger Tseyo had used to exact justice from Mu'kuti. "We think this is more appropriate for you to have."
Tseyo was at a loss for words, but he accepted the gift and wasted no time affixing it to his belt. "It suits you," Nakllte said. "Wield it proudly."
"I will," he replied, still surprised by the presentation. "Thank you both," he said almost breathlessly. He turned to the clan and tapped his brow. "Thank you all."
His tribesmen all tapped their brows in response, a smattering of, "I see you," coming from them.
Jakesully patted him on the shoulder and said, "Sleep well. We'll leave right away in the morning." He nodded, and then Jakesully walked away with Nakllte, which the rest of the clan took as cue to also break up.
Tseyo turned to the dancers still behind him. "Thank you," he said. "That was a great honor."
Vezek approached and embraced him. "Did you really enjoy it?" she asked.
"Very much," he replied, wrapping his arms around her. "Mehi'a would have loved it, too. You honored her with your dance."
They held each other for a while longer. Both had been devastated by Mehi'a's death: Tseyo as her brother, Vezek as her childhood friend. It was one thing for a person to be killed in the course of a hunt or battle – dying in the service of the clan was natural.
But Mehi'a's death was so abhorrent to their customs that the shock was difficult to overcome. Though they believed her energy lived on in Eywa, it was difficult for that belief to fill the void left by her sudden, physical absence.
She had scolded him for displaying hubris soon after he volunteered for the journey to Earth; but in the days leading up to his departure, her temper cooled, and she returned to being a supportive friend.
Vezek sighed and took a step away from him. She untied a pouch from her belt and carefully handed it to him. "This came to me while I was practicing the dance," she said. "You should take it with you."
Tseyo opened the pouch, and his heart skipped when he saw its contents. He slowly upended the pouch and let the atokirina' fall into his hand. Its tendrils fluttered despite the lack of a breeze, and he was mesmerized by its pure light.
"It came to me as one of many," Vezek explained. "But when the wind picked up again, this one was not carried away."
"Mehi'a's energy has been with Eywa for a while," he said without looking away from the seed. "And she loved to dance."
Vezek nodded. "I've heard some say that you won't be able to survive in the sky, away from Eywa. I hope this will keep you safe."
"I'm sure it will," he replied. He returned the seed to the pouch as carefully as he had taken it, and then he hugged Vezek again. "Thank you for this."
"You're welcome," she said. "Please come home to us, Tseyo."
"You know I will."
She responded by kissing his cheek, and then she ascended the atrium to her hammock. Before Vezek disappeared from his sight, Tseyo saw her bring a hand to her eyes, and he felt a pang of guilt. He had never intended for his departure to cause others to suffer; but as he had learned with Naw'ngié, his decision had wider ramifications than he had anticipated.
Others stopped him on his way to his hammock to wish him a safe and successful travel, and some of them presented him small trinkets and mementos. By the time he did get to his bunk, he was more than ready to fall asleep. However, there was one more person who wanted to wish him farewell.
Tseyo smiled and said, "It would appear that I got to my hammock sooner than I knew."
Naw'ngié, sitting in his place, smiled back at him and replied, "And you became more beautiful along the way."
"You're the second person to make that comment," he replied as he crawled into his hammock. "It makes me wonder how the people really see me."
Still smiling, she clicked her tongue at him and put a hand on his cheek. "Stay away from vanity, Tseyo. Besides, you have no reason to worry."
He placed his hand over hers and sighed. "You know you shouldn't be here. The courtship is over."
Her smile faded and she nodded. "I know," she replied. "But it seemed wrong to me that you should be alone on your last night with the people."
Tseyo looked around at all the hammocks tied near his, most of which had carried their occupants off to sleep. "I'm not alone," he said. "Nobody is alone, here."
He returned to the topic at hand. "Naw'ngié, tsahik's judgment was right. It would be cruel for me to leave a mate alone for so long."
Naw'ngié sighed. "Yes, I know now that she was right." She looked down and added, "I won't be able to wait for you, Tseyo. I want a mate, and I want to have children with him."
"And you should have them," he replied.
"So should you," she said while looking back up. "When you come home with your tales of bravery, there will be many women who will want to choose you to be with them." She took a breath and said, "I won't be one of them, but I want you to know what it will be like."
Tseyo shook his head and said, "This isn't a gift I can accept from you."
She laughed and replied with a wry grin, "Don't listen too hard to my words, acolyte. I'm not offering you my body, only my companionship."
He was not entirely convinced of the appropriateness of her gift, and she must have seen that reflected in his expression. She touched the necklace he had given her and continued, "I don't have your talent for crafts. I don't have anything else to offer you, and it would be cruel to let you go without a gift."
Tseyo contemplated her offering for a moment before he smiled and said with a nod, "Then I accept your gift." He broadened his smile. "It is a fine gift." She smiled back and gently brought him down to lay alongside her.
While the tree remained illuminated in the fading glow of the fires on the floor, they lay in embrace with their brows touching and tails over each other's legs, feet interlaced. When the fires died, she turned so that her back was against his chest, bringing his arm around to hold hers, and raised her tail so that it fell behind him.
His mind was swimming; and from what he could feel of her pulse and hear in her breathing, he assumed the same of her. But chief among all his thoughts was the worry that, in fact, he would not be able to return home to share a moment like this with another woman.
With that, he held Naw'ngié tighter. She, in turn, rubbed his forearm and said quietly, "I am here, brother, and I will be here when you wake. Rest well."
Despite his best efforts, sleep escaped him.
As had been the case weeks earlier, Norm held on to Jake for his life as the direhorse galloped through the jungle. Jake and his escort of warriors, which included Nakllte, were taking Norm and Tseyo to their rendezvous point with Luke, where they would board a Samson and head back to Hell's Gate.
All of the warriors, including Tseyo, had no trouble keeping up with Jake, and Norm thought it was only luck that prevented one of them from crashing into any one of the branches or rigid vines that regularly crossed over the trail.
Where Norm had his duffel, Tseyo carried his belongings in his hammock, which he had tied into a sack. His most treasured possessions were left at Hometree – a reminder for the clan to expect his return.
When the small cavalry detachment reached the clearing, they all dismounted their direhorses and waited for the Samson to appear. "Here's hoping a banshee or leonopteryx didn't find him first," Norm said. "We don't have a back-up plan."
"I'm sure he'll be here soon," Jake replied.
Norm nodded and then asked, "Jake, is there, um, anybody back on Earth you want me to get in touch with?"
Jake shook his head. "I have some extended family, but nobody I was really close to. When Tom died, that was pretty much it for me. Besides, if they missed me earlier, I'm pretty sure they'd have moved on by now." Jake looked at Tseyo and added, "He won't say it, but I think it's the same for him."
Norm nodded. The murder on its own had to be traumatic enough for him, and on top of that he was effectively going into exile – to be removed from his home and the fundamental source of his lifelong beliefs. If Tseyo were a human applying for the Pandora program in this condition, Norm had no doubt that he would fail the psychological profiling.
Whatever Norm's opinions, though, Tseyo had made it through the training regimen; and he was here saying his final farewells to the people who had accompanied him. He was not going to be turned back at the last second.
"I was wondering," Norm said, "what happens to his banshee?"
"We'll keep it nested at Hometree," Jake replied. "After a while, it will figure out that he isn't coming back and go roost elsewhere. It won't bond again, but it will carry on with its own life."
Norm raised an eyebrow at him. "You said, 'He isn't coming back.' You think we're going up against impossible odds?"
Jake crossed his arms and said, "No – well, yes – but I missed the part in Abe's plan where Tseyo comes home."
Norm tried to put together a response, but then it occurred to him that he was not aware of those details, either. "So, wait, you're willingly sending one of your people on a one-way trip to Earth?"
"If this mission is successful, it will be better than waiting around for hundreds of people to be given one-way trips to Eywa's embrace."
Norm was ready to lay into Jake for his grim arithmetic, but then Tseyo approached, his sack slung over his shoulder, and nodded at Jake. "I'm ready," he said in his native tongue. "When are we supposed to make our ascent?"
"Soon," Norm replied. "We just have to wait a little while longer."
As if on cue, the Samson appeared overhead and, after circling a few times, came in for a landing. The engines were left to idle, filling the clearing with their unnatural noise and startling the direhorses. Luke gave them a wave a thumbs-up. Norm nodded at Luke, then looked at Tseyo and said, "It will be easier if you get inside first. You're going to take up most of the space, so I will sit up with the other Sky Person."
Tseyo hesitated before nodding in response, his eyes fixated on the craft. Norm wondered if this was the closest he had come to this kind of human technology, and he worried if he was having very deep second thoughts. Tseyo looked back at the other people, and then at Jake. "I will come home, Jakesully."
Jake nodded and embraced Tseyo. "Make the people proud."
Tseyo stepped away from him and made his way to the Samson's passenger bay. While Tseyo contorted to fit in the compartment, Norm looked at Jake and said with a sigh, "So this is it."
"It is," he replied.
"I'm not really good at these sorts of things." He laughed nervously and added, "I'm actually really bad at them."
Jake chuckled and said, "Same here."
Norm rubbed the back of his neck as he looked for something – anything! – to say. He settled on, "We've been through way, way more than I think I ever thought could be possible, but I can't think of anybody else I'd have wanted to go through it with."
Jake was even more to the point. "Likewise."
After trying to come up with something more profound to say, and failing, Norm simply held out his hand, hoping a handshake might suffice. Jake, however, got down on his knees and fully embraced him; and Norm was quick to throw his arms around him. "You've done Tom proud, you know?"
Jake nodded. "You have, too."
They held each other for a while longer before Norm pulled back. "It's 'Semper Fi,' right?"
Jake gave him a textbook salute and said, "Semper Fi." Norm's return salute was less than textbook, but it was all he could think to do.
Norm then took the co-pilot seat in the Samson, and nodded to Luke. "Let's go."
Jake and his warrior guards began to whoop and holler as the engines roared back to life, and the craft began to ascend. Seconds later, it had cleared the jungle canopy, and Luke throttled forward to carry them back to Hell's Gate, where the Cybele waited for its turn to carry them on to Earth.