The Investigator

Alex sighted the target with his binoculars. The mercenary team in his view weren't paying enough attention to their surroundings. In particular, they didn't pay enough attention to the dour and grey prefab concrete buildings that dotted the area. They were more concerned about the militia APC that was dug in at a prefab garage about 50 metres east of their position. They were fairly certain that the enemy militia squadron had fortified itself nearby, maybe in one of the buildings.

What they didn't know, was that Alex's squad had hunkered down in a three story building, almost directly overlooking the enemy. There were eight in his team. They were backed up against the far wall, absolutely silent. Dressed in multicamo fatigues and armour, which was a sort of desert brown-tiger stripe pattern with green splotches, and wearing exo-suits, they watched from the window in front of them as the mercenary team; dressed in standard green jungle uniforms and exo-masks, took up positions to storm the building nearest to the APC. As if there were militia inside of them.

Dwight turned his head to Alex. The man was as huge and strong as a bear, gripping his LMG tightly, not letting the links on it jingle. He didn't dare speak, so he mouthed his request silently and slowly: Do we make our move now?
Alex shook his head and pressed his finger to his mouth. We wait, he mouthed back.
He watched as the mercenaries move silently to the building's entrance. He saw them take up positions to breach at the two entrances into the building. Alex keyed his radio.
"Mac. Get ready." He whispered. He turned to the guy to his right; a nervous militia engineer clutching a small device in his hand.
"Do it." Alex said with finality.
The engineer, who also had the role of demo man in the squad, clicked the detonator in his hand.

As the mercenary team took up positions to breach, two of them prepared to place a breaching charge on their respective door. It was just a small bit of explosive, just enough to blast the door off of its hinges and stun and daze any one standing next door, who would be shot dead by the mercenaries as they stormed the building.
At least that was the plan. Before the charge setters could get back, the door in question exploded forward in an almighty KROOM, throwing the door and the hapless mercenary back a few metres, and throwing some of the other deafened mercenaries on their asses.
"GO!" yelled out Alex.
The mercenaries were totally bewildered. They didn't get a chance to get their minds back into gear, because sniper fire started to take down some of the ones who were still standing up. Meanwhile the rest of the militia took up positions at the windows and opened fire. Dwight had deployed his machine gun, and let loose a torrent of bullets. The others blasted the mercenaries with everything they had, from SCAR rifles to Alex's automatic shotgun. The mercenaries were getting completely murdered. Only three of them had managed to get inside the building. The rest of the twelve-man team were cut down where they stood.
"Sam! Gus! Mark! You're with me! The rest of you, keep us covered, we're going in!" shouted Alex as he went to the buildings staircase. The four man assault team raced down the stairs and out of the building as the remaining militiamen kept firing at the windows. Mac had managed to drop one of them in the head; the other two had slinked over to the APC.

The two mercenaries in question started to clamber into it.
"That was a nice trick with the decoy..." one of them furiously cursed as he clambered into the driver's seat. "But they won't be smiling now! Get on the turret!"
He looked through the driver's viewport. He started to grin maniacally as the militia fire team rushed towards them right in the open.
"Those dumbasses are right in the open! Take those assholes out!" he screamed. His compatriot grinned and gripped the turret handles. There was a resounding click.
That's all that happened.
"Jackie, what the fuck, shoot them!"
"This things not working! It isn't even loaded!"
"FUCK, JACKIE! SHIT!"
He gripped the wheel and hit the ignition switch.
Again, nothing happened.
The militia team reached the APC. One of them clambered on top of the steel cockroach, unhooking a grenade from his armour. Another one went right up to the drivers viewport and twiddled another grenade in front of it.
"You guys want to come out the easy way, or the hard way?" he smiled.
The two mercs gritted their teeth and flipped switches on their guns. "You win Garnett."
A voice sounded on loudspeakers.
"Blue RDA team has surrendered. Red Militia team have won."

Everyone started to relax. The mercenaries started to clamber out of the APC. Back where Alex came from, the other members of the militia squad strolled out of the building, laughing and talking. A couple of guys started to walk out from the training compound's walls. And all around himself, Alex could hear the groaning of the 'wounded' and 'killed' men.
"Could somebody get me some of that paint stripper?" groaned a merc with half his body splattered in orange paint-tranq. "This stuff really hurts..." He was referring to both the simunition paint-tranquilizer rounds and the chemical that removed it, which was nicknamed 'paint stripper'. Several orderlies began to remove the stuff from the downed personnel.

The training compound in Hells Gate was nick named; 'The Murder Yard.' It was an enclosed area, more or so attached to Hells Gate, rather than being inside it. It was a square mile in size, bordered on side by the colony's wall, and on three sides by smaller, concrete wall. Scattered across the place were pre-fabricated buildings and scrub, which could be repositioned to make various training scenarios as suited. At the Yard's colony side, there was a large control tower built into the wall, where handlers and trainers would control and observe events. As well as this, they had plenty of cameras everywhere.
"That wasn't a fair fight Garnett." The leader of the mercs grumbled.
"Oh c'mon Manderly." Alex laughed. "We were split into even teams, twelve men versus 8 with an APC. That doesn't mean that we had to use the thing..."
"We could have been killed when those doors exploded forward!"
"Those were just concussive bombs. We made sure that they didn't fragment the door." He turned to his squad. "Mac caught some primo footage of the breach though. Might as well-"
"Sergeant Garnett!" A voice shouted out. Alex and the others turned. A colonist was running towards them. "Sergeant Garnett!"
Alex beckoned him over. "Right here, what's the problem?"
"There's trouble down at the mines sir! The foreman's requested your presence. You need to get there now."
Christ sakes, if Mr. Netanyahu's complaining about lack of presence there, I'll break his ass.
"I'm a little busy here, can't Rueben get someone else?"
"No sir, there's been trouble with the Na'vi. It's bad sir."

There was silence as the words sunk into everyone.
"What sort of trouble?" Alex said with care.
"There's been some sort of scrap between some of the miners and the Na'vi sir. There's been some injuries."
"Fuck... where's Sgt Noh?"
"He's too busy doing battlesuit training. It'll take ages for him to get ready."
"Right then..." There was silence. Manderly took up the opportunity. "I'll get my boys ready-"
"No, sir, I believe that this is my jurisdiction." Alex interrupted firmly.
"I believe that I am the one charge sarge." Manderly snarled back. "I don't think that-"
"I believe that I DO have the authority on these matters, by order of Major Halverson, I'm God if anything involving the Na'vi comes up. Even General Carson agreed to it."
Manderly deflated behind his exo-mask. "Don't push it pal..." he moodily snuffed.
Alex turned to the colonist. "Tell whoever you came from that I'll be there in a moment's notice. Do the air people know what's going on?"
"Yes sir, They're already getting a bird ready for you."
"Great, you can head back now."
As the colonist ran back to Murder Yard's exit, Alex took a deep breath. He turned to the other militia men. They were silent, twiddling their thumbs and looking towards him. Dwight shifted his huge mass nervously.
"Alright hustle up troopers!" Alex shouted "You've all heard that. There's been trouble with the Na'vi, so it's our job to make calm everything down. That doesn't mean things can't get out of control. Get your gear and weapons together and grab some real ammo. No paint-tranq shit. This is REAL people."

The chopper that Alex and his team were riding on wasn't one of the common Samson choppers. Instead, they were flying in one of the NH-75 Haast Assault Gunships. These didn't use the twin ducted fan system of flight like the SA-2 Samson. Instead, it utilized the 'Canard/Rotor Wing' system of flight. The aircraft looks similar to an old 20th century helicopter, but without a tail rotor, as well as two large canards near the nose of the craft. Rather than the engine spinning the main blades and another rear rotor set, the main blades are spun like a helicopter's rotor by directing the exhaust from a jet engine through thrust nozzles in the rotors wingtips. Because the rotor is driven directly by jet thrust, there is no need for a tail rotor to control torque as in a conventional helicopter. The real selling point for the system, is that the Haast is capable of jet flight. At the flip of a switch, the exhaust is redirected through an ordinary jet nozzle and the airfoil is held in a fixed position, acting like a wing, and turning the Haast into a slowish jet plane. The only weakness to the system is that it requires a pair of somewhat sizable canards placed near the front. The Haast itself was known as an 'assault gunship'. This means that while it could carry about as much people in its internal troop bay as the Samson, it was almost as heavily armed as a Scorpion Gunship, packing rocket pods and a large six barrel autocannon, giving it massive firepower when needed for aggressive insertion. The whole design was a distant descendant from the old Soviet 'Hind D' gunships common during the 20th century. There were differences in ascetics however, such as its slightly more angular cockpit canopy and shape. The one weakness of the Haast however, was that its large size means that only experienced pilots can effectively fly one. Despite this, those who can, say that it's like flying an APC in the sky. The manoeuvrability of a Samson, coupled with the firepower of a Scorpion.

The pilot to this particular plane was talking with Alex about the upcoming DZ. He was mercenary pilot, hired to train civilian and militia alike to fly, but unlike the others, he was friendly with the militia. He was an Afrikaner ex-peacekeeper called Wikus Bezuidenhout. His clean shaven face looking out from his pilot's helmet/exo-mask would turn around from his cockpit every now and then to talk with Alex in the troop bay. The Haast's gunner was keeping watch for any trouble up ahead.

"You know what you're doing bru?" he asked in his rather distinct accent. "I can provide support if everything goes to hell man..."
"Hopefully it won't come to that." Answered Alex. "Just land this bird at the mines helipad after you drop us down by the entrance. If anything's wrong, me, or one of my boys will radio you."
"Alright then man."
Alex turned back to his squad sitting down and checking their gear in the troop bay. One could feel the nervousness in the air like static. Alex could see it in the clenched jaws, shaking legs and constant double checks of equipment.
"Listen up people!" he shouted over the engines. "I want to make one thing clear to each and every one of you. Safeties ON. Nobody fires anything unless I give the word, understand? We're here to prevent anything bad from getting worse, not to start a new war with the Really Big Giant Smurf People, okay?"
One of the militiamen asked a question. "What's the plan when we touch down?"
"That depends. If everyone down at the mine is still okay, then we land. I'm going to try to get to the bottom of whatever the problem is."
"How are you going to do that boss?" asked Dwight a little nervously. "Are you a detective or something?"
"No Dwight, but I've done this sort of thing before. I just need you guys to stay with me in case things get out of hand." He paused. "That, and to not shoot anything unless I give the go-ahead. Do I make myself clear?"
The troop compartment resounded with the classical "Yes sir."
"That's great... and I thought I told you guys not to call me sir."
"Whatever you say boss." Answered Mac.

The chopper/plane sailed through the skies for another 3 minutes before the mines came into view.
"Okay guys, we're here." Shouted Wikus. "Switching to VTOL mode..."
The chopper started to shudder for a minute as the rotor blades started to spin up like a roman candle. Soon the Haast had fully switched over to helicopter mode, moving towards the mines. The chopper proceeded to circle the site.
From his vantage point Alex could see that the place had been fully restored. The old, rusted machines had been scrapped, and replaced with newer, equally monstrous ones. The great pits had only expanded by a bit; there was still a lot of ore to still be mined. The most notable thing about the place was that none of the great excavators were going at all. They seemed powered down, awaiting something perhaps.
Wikus then pointed out the mining base and refinery. Miners and guards were still around, notably, what looked like a group of miners kicking a football around the yard. People seemed to be on some kind of break. A couple of people stopped to wave at the chopper.
"Seems like everything's okay mate." Wikus shouted.
"Seems so..." agreed Alex cautiously. "Drop us off over at the entrance to the compound. Then you can head to the helipad."
"Will do. Hey Alex..."
"Yeah?"
"Good luck down there. I think you might need it."
The chopper touched down at the entrance.

Alex briefly glanced back at the chopper thumping away again, then at his team mates. There were six of them, two having to stay put back at base due to equipment issues. They surveyed their surroundings with apprehension.
Probably just first mission jitters. Thought Alex to himself. They'll be okay... aww shit. Alex started to curse himself for a fool. Son of bitch... I forgot to swap out my pistol back at training. Ah don't worry... my shotty's still good.
Several base guards, a mix of militia and mercenary, started to jog out to greet them.
"Sergeant Garnett, good to see you." shouted an amiable RDA trooper. "The foreman's down this way."
"Give me a sitrep, what actually just happened?"
"You'd have to ask the foreman, I was over on the over side of the mines when it happened."
"Anyone hurt?"
"A few guys got an arrow each. They're okay though, they're stabilized now. Oh, and one of the miners got a broken arm."
"Ah shit... thanks anyway."
Alex and his team were being led through the yard where a couple of miners were kicking around a football.
"Seems like things are pretty quiet right now." Said one of the team.
"The foreman's just declared a cease in all activity for now." The merc replied informatively. "Right now we're just trying to kill some time for now. This way."
Alex ordered half his squad to stay outside while Alex and the other half entered the administrative block of the compound. They started to pass several cubicles and work stations, where office workers were doing what they do best: procrastinate. He went through several cold and sterile corridors before they reached a door at the end. The mercenary opened it slightly, poking his head through the door.
"Sir," he said politely."The liaison's here."
"What?" sputtered a frustrated voice from the other side. "Goddammit..."
An angry red face got opened up the door. The foreman, who went by the name of Rueben Netanyahu, was slightly shorter than most people around the colony and most people knew that he lived up to it by being a pain in the ass to work with. With bald head and the apparent absence of a neck, he certainly fit the bill for a bastard boss.
He eyed the people assembled before him. His eyes narrowed down when he came to Alex.
"How the hell did you get here?" he demanded.
Alex kept his calm. "I was under the impression that you called me here."
"I did no such thing!"
"Then who did?"
Rueben thundered out of his office and shouted to the rest of the office workers: "I thought I told you dumb assholes that I didn't want any damn liaison! Which one of you assholes made the call? In MY name I'll add?"
No one said a word. The other workers looked at each other, hoping that someone would answer. No one did.
"Dammit, if one of you had..."
"Now wait just a minute here!" interrupted Alex. "Are you saying that you gave an order saying that I shouldn't be called?"
"What? No, I..."
"You what?" he snapped, losing his cool.
"It was just some small issue with some alien upstarts. It was nothing serious..."
"Nothing serious? Are you calling several miners injured by Na'vi 'nothing serious'?"
"Goddammit man, it was nothing worth calling one of you for! The whole situation is under control..."
Alex started to transition from assertive, to aggressive. "I'LL say when it's under control. It's my job to deal with anything related to the Na'vi."
"Says who?"
"Says the Major!" Alex snapped "So just shut up, answer my questions and I'll be out of your hair, okay?"
Rueben backed down. He looked a little pushed down to cause any more problems.
"Fine." He said with considerable ice. "Come inside my office."

Rueben's office looked little different from all the other executive offices that Alex had been in. The walls were the usual steel grey of any other colony constructions. They were adorned with various decorations, college degrees, and potted plants. There was a reasonably sized desk in the middle, covered in paperwork and a desktop computer, as well as what looked like the bust of some late 21st century academic big wig sitting on a cabinet.

The way Alex saw it, Rueben was a Grade D Company Man. This means that he had already surrendered a part of his soul to the company in exchange for some time shares. This made him exponentially more dangerous than a Grade E Company Man, (Human accepting his fate) and Grade F (Normal human being screaming to be free of his bureaucratic bounds), but thankfully much less dangerous than Grades A through to C. C being a person with only vestigial humanity putting company interests before people, (like Parker Selfridge) and B being a corporate yuppie with no intrinsic values aside from making profits, his own personal grooming and which brands he uses... Like the guy from the novel 'American Psycho'. Nobody has ever seen a Grade A Company Man, for the same reasons that nobody reports their own successful assassination. These types couldn't be considered people at all. Rather, they are soulless avatars of the Company. Those who would easily press The Big Red Button or sign off torture, simply because it did the company good. Thankfully though, most people think of them as being nothing more than an urban legend. But who wants to find out for sure?

Okay, think back to the old days. Alex thought as he sat down in one of the chairs facing the desk. He started to drift inside his mind. Remember the times you settled domestic violence disputes, or dealt with noise complaints, and collected people's testimonies? Think back to those days.
"So... what is it that you wish to know Mr Garnett?" asked Reuben apprehensively.
So, he addresses me as 'Mr' rather than Sergeant. That not good...
"It's Sergeant Garnett 'Sir'... and I might as well start with asking you what exactly happened here."
"Fine then. About an hour and a half ago some of those Na'vi savages came and attacked some of our miners. The End."
"In a little more detail please. Where did it happen?"
"There was some kind of trouble down over at the perimeter. The savages started to attack one of our dozers which was trying to clear some dead tree and scrub that we've been meaning to get rid of for some time now. The dozer had come to a rest when all of a sudden those blue skinned savages started to come out of the woodwork and tried to kill us."
"Hold on one second sir, why did the dozer stop to begin with?"
"Some equipment malfunction, I don't know... I'm not a damn mechanic. They were trying to fix it when suddenly they attacked. Some of the guards fired back and drove them off."
"Any casualties?"
"A few of the mercs got wounded, I understand that they are in the infirmary now... that's it."
"What about the Na'vi?"
"What about them?"
"Were there any casualties on their side?" Alex responded loudly.
"Fuck, I don't know! Nobody found any bodies... The guards brought in the wounded... and that was that, no casualties, no paperwork." Rueben started to type on his computer again. "Is there anything else you want to know?" he said with a tinge of sneering.
"Maybe... That will be all for now." Alex started to get up and leave.
"Perhaps this issue would not have happened had you militia types done your job guarding us and taken a harder stance with the alien savages." Rueben grumbled. "Frankly if we put the hammer down on them-"
"Then we wouldn't have to contend with the alien savage, and that humanity would power on into the stars, and that the great chain will pull us to enlightenment, while the aliens would be left behind in the dirt, yes, I think you told everyone this many times sir." Alex finished for him. "You manifest destiny types get that out of a pamphlet or something?"
Rueben brought his hands together on his desk. "Is there anything else you need?"
"Nothing from you." Alex finished with a slight flicker of flame, before leaving the office.
As he closed the door he went to one of the militia mining guards, and asked him to take himself and his team to the infirmary.

"Why are we going down to the infirmary boss?" asked Dwight.
"Because A: I want to check if they are alright, B: I want to get to the bottom of this, and C: I only trust corporates as far as I can throw them."
Alex looked back up at Dwight. The man was huge, at least six foot five. He could have passed for a short Na'vi man if he grew his hair and painted his body blue. A bear of a man was the best way to describe him. He wasn't slow, but he only moved quickly when he needed to. And in close quarter combat, he had a tendency to throw people instead of just shooting them. He could probably lift the LMG all by himself without the exo-suit he was wearing.
The team was lead through several corridors and areas, including recreation, more offices and a place overlooking a large hangar filled with Hell Trucks before they finally reached the infirmary. The hall was clean and well equipped, and several cots lined the walls. Alex went up to the people inside them. They were in hospital gowns, their stained armour piled neatly beside them. There were three militiamen, along with one mercenary lying in the beds, along with two other visitors from the same squad. In the corner, a doctor was filing a report on his desktop computer.

Alex went up to one of them. "How are you guys holding up?"
The militia man gave a small smile and nodded his head. "Doc said we're gonna be fine. It's more comfy in here than the crappy couches in the rec room."
Another man asked on how things are going outside. Alex decided to be friendly. "They're having a game of soccer out there. Sorry you guys can't play."
"That's all right sir." Another shrugged. "I've always been a football type of guy."
In the beginning, one of the colonists had brought a football to play around with. Unfortunately, due to Pandora's low gravity, it got lost in its first game when one of the players kicked it not just off the field, but right out of the colony altogether. To this day, rugby and football have never taken off on Pandora.

"Yeah... uh, listen, I've got to ask you guys some questions about what exactly happened back there at the perimeter."
"Huh? Oh right... uh... what you want to know?"
"Tell me how this whole thing got started, what were you doing when they attacked?"
The wounded men started to sit upright in their beds. They looked to one another, waiting and hoping that somebody would answer for them.
"Well... we were helping to guard one of the big dozers at the time."
"What were you clearing?"
"Just some scrub." Answered another man. "We were going to put up a new boundary fence for vegetation bots to patrol around. It's pretty standard, harmless stuff."
"You used one of the dozers for it?"
"Yeah, I know. We were going to just flame the place like normal, but wind conditions made it look like a pretty bad idea, so we got that road making dozer out to just flatten the stretch that we needed. Seemed like a good idea at the time."
"Okay then..." Alex took stock inside his head. Yes, Na'vi absolutely hated those giant road making dozers for a reason, some of their most precious places were destroyed by them, but it wasn't as if the miners were ploughing over a sacred site. Things still didn't add up.

"So... people say that you guys had to stop for a bit. What happened?"
One of the militia shrugged. "Not sure. The driver of the thing said that one of power cables had become dislodged, or something... anyway, we stopped for a bit, took a smoke and a drink and kept our eyes on the forest for about a minute or two while the dozer was being fixed, when suddenly we heard the driver shouting for help from the other side."
"Oh yeah man..." the merc spoke up. "There sounded like some kind of fight coming from the other side of the dozer when-"
"Wait, everybody but the guy fixing the thing was on only one side of the truck?" Alex interrupted.
"Oh... sorry, we were on the side facing the forest." Answered another militia man a little guiltily. "We were more worried about something from the forest coming to kill us than from the mines."
"Fair enough. I guess..." nodded Alex. "What happened?"
"I went over to check up on the driver, and I was just in time to see this big motherfuckin' Na'vi grabbing the poor bastard and smash him into the dozer! There were two of them, one big and one small, and the big guy was smashing the poor bastard into the thing!"
"Jesus... What did you do?"
"What did I do? I started shooting, that's what! I think my shots went wide, but I managed to wing one of them, before the other swiped me with this big staff thing and sent me flying!"
"After that, it was fucking chaos hombre..." another militia man shivered. "There were arrows flying out of the fucking woodwork man. We shot back. I got it in the shoulder, others got one too, it was scary man."
"Those Na'vi must have gotten away while we were shooting. I think I managed to hit one of the bowmen... and that's about it. We called for medevac, and now we're here."
"Man..." Alex shook his wiped his face. This didn't look good. "Did you actually kill anyone?"
"Don't think so." Answered one of the visiting militiamen. "We found some bloodstains, but no bodies. Not sure if any of them succumbed to wounds or anything. The driver was lucky."
Oh thank god...

Alex decided to finish up here. "Well then... I guess that about- Wait, wait, wait..." he suddenly realised something wrong. "You guys mentioned that there was a driver involved?"
"Uh, yeah..."
"I thought dozers were remote controlled!"
"Oh yeah, shit sorry..." a militiaman realised. "We couldn't be bothered with getting permission from Hells Gate to do get a driver up, which takes way too long, and usually, they're not bothered to get a driver to clear scrub. So we just got one of the colonist's to manually drive the thing there. He was just some young mechanic guy, the poor bastard was lucky to be able to walk out of there."
Christ, this is exactly what I needed.
"If he was injured, why isn't he in here with you?"
One of the doctors typing up on a counter looked up. "He only suffered a broken arm, a few cracked ribs, and minor lacerations. A new arm cast, some medigel and some painkiller, and we sent him back to work."
"Where is he now?"
"Let's see..." the doctor checked his computer. "Ah, it's a Mr. Gage Hudson, Canadian. He works over in the main hangar bay where the Hell trucks are kept."
"Perfect!" Alex started to get up and walk out. "Thanks for the help guys; I'll see about getting this place those new couches you've always wanted."

'Big' wasn't a word which did the Hangar enough justice. It wasn't as big, or as durable as the legendary Armour Vault at Hells Gate, but this place easily managed to house some of the huge Hell Trucks that the mines used. The sounds of machines, welding and mechanics filled the place. The great monstrous Hell Trucks dwarfed Alex and his team as they walked by, while mechanics in oil covered exo-suits and coveralls swarmed over them, fixing their various issues. The air on Pandora tended to make machines require more maintenance than on Earth.

"Man, my little brother always used to be into Monster trucks..." a militiawoman smiled in nostalgia. "He would have loved to see these. I wonder how he's doing back on Earth."
"He probably wouldn't mind if his big sister sent him a picture of one or two of them." Alex said in a friendly manner. "You guys can look around if you want, our man's over there."
Alex moved on while his team wandered. He came up to one of the great beasts, partially disassembled and getting a servicing. Alex checked his watch: quarter to five. The sun was shining through the sky lights, casting atmospheric light rays across the place.
"Mr. Hudson?" Alex called out.
"Yeah? Who wants to know?" voice called back from the bowels of the machine.
"The name's Sgt Garnett, I'm here to ask you a few questions."
A dirty face poked out of the machine. On it was scuffle of blond hair, on a young face that reminded Alex of a kid who stole a bag of cash from a drug dealer. He looked as if he thought that he only had seconds to live.
"If this is about that thing with the na'vi, I don't know anything pal, I was just set on, that's it." He raised his arms defensively. One of them was in a cast, covered in grease and scrawled on with Get Well messages. "It was over before I knew it, I nearly died man."
"I still need to ask some questions Mr. Hudson. Could you get down from there? I won't bite." Alex called back, half joking.

The mechanic started to reluctantly climb down the machine. He looked nervous. "Okay... I don't know exactly how I can help you..."
Alex went up to him. "I really need to speak with you now about this, it's important."
"I told you, there's not-"
This wasn't going very well. One thing that Alex had learned as a policeman, was that people were rarely interested as serving as witnesses. Between having to go to the station and having their time spent answering questions, people tried to distance themselves away from the scene of the crime.
"Listen to me dammit!" hissed Alex. "This is really important. There was just a fight with the natives that you were involved in. I need to know exactly what went on there."
"There's nothing to say man! They're gone-"
"No they're not." He interrupted. "Listen to me Gage, some of our boys just shot and wounded several of the Na'vi at that dozer. Now, they really don't take kindly to that. They're not gonna let that slide. They are going to come back, with a whole lot more of their friends, and they are going to take the fucking torch to this place. People nearly died, and more people could very much be killed soon. It's my job to stop that from happening." He spoke a little more calmly. "But in order to do that, I need to know exactly what happened between you and them, that caused the bullets to fly. Can you do that?"

Gage looked around himself. Alex thought that he was checking to make sure that no one was watching, or listening in on him.
"I think it's my own damn fault sarge..." he moaned despondently.
"Just start at the beginning."
"Well... I was just doing some work here on the Hell trucks... when a couple of militia guys came in asking for some help." Gage took a deep breath. "They needed someone to manually driver a dozer so that they could clear up some bush and scrub at the mines perimeter."
"You volunteered?"
"Yep. Thought driving one of the dozers would make a nice change from doing maintenance on them." Gage eyes drifted before refocusing. "There wasn't much to say about most of the job. They kept watch, while I cleared the bush away..." Gage looked over his shoulder. "Man, I always got the feeling that someone... or something in that forest was watching me, eh? Like, I felt eyes on me... know what I mean?"
"Yeah I know that feeling." Alex nodded. "Keep going."
"Well, things were going just fine, when the dozer started to give me some trouble. I had to stop and fix it."
"What was the problem?"
"Just a faulty power cable. Nothing serious, but it needed to be fixed. Anyway, I stopped the thing, and got out to fix it. I told all of the guys to watch the forest while I fix the problem on the other side. I figured I was safe. I mean, do you really expect a hammerhead herd to come at you from the mines?" He face-palmed. "Stupid..."
"So what happened?"
Gage took a deep breath. "Well... I was just making the repairs, I had just got a spare cable out from the spares cabinet on the dozer, when felt someone watching me. I looked to the side, and there was this na'vi guy. He was just sitting on the dozers tread guards, looking down at me." He shook his head. "Man, I don't know how the hell he got past the guards. I didn't even notice him sitting practically right next to me, until I felt him watching me."
"What did he do?"
"He just sat there, watching me. It was more awkward than scary because I had no idea in hell on what to do. He was about my size, wearing nothing but those loincloth things-"
"Wait, hold on." Alex cut in. "How big did you say he was?"
"About my size." Gage looked nervous. "What? Is that a problem?"
Oh fuck, this just got a whole lot worse...
"Jesus Christ man..." whispered Alex. "Can't you remember that Na'vi are supposed to be like, twice as big as us?"
"What... oh, but... he was as big as me though!"
"Yeah, and there's only one possible explanation for that. That Na'vi wasn't a man. You were looking at a fricking child!"
"Oh shit..."
"Keep going, what happened then?"
"Well, the Na'vi... or kid... then asked me something in his language. I only took a class or two in it, so I had no idea what he wanted. He seemed friendly though." Gage looked down like a boy caught doing something naughty. "And that's when I did something really dumb."
"What did you do?"
"I gave him an apple." Gage breathed out. "I usually keep one as a snack, the ones they grow over at the orchards are pretty good, so I figured that I may as well be friendly."
"Really?"
"Well, really I was kinda just hoping that he'd just take the apple and go away. I couldn't take the suspense." He shook his head again. "He seemed curious about. I swear to God that his tail had started to shake more..."
"And then?"
"He was just about to take it, when a voice went up. I turned around and saw this really, really big na'vi guy stomping after me. He looked pissed man. He was shouting something, could have been at the kid, might have been at me. He was coming right towards me..."
"What did you do?"
"Panic. I started to shout for help from the guys other on the other side. It probably just made things worse, 'cause before I could get away, the big one ran right at me and smashed me right into the dozer." He shuddered. "Broke my arm and a couple of ribs. That's when the shooting started."
"So... what did you do?"
"Not much. Writhe in pain. I think I saw the kid take a round in the arm, but the guy who did it got swiped by the other Na'vi guy. Maybe he was the kid's dad or something... and that was about it. The guys that could still stand called for help after the shooting stopped and that was that." He looked around. "Do you need anything else? I got to get back to work."
Alex burrowed inside his thoughts for a while. The situation was looking pretty dire. Sure, no one had been killed, but that didn't help stave off the fact that a child had just been shot. No one was going to take this lying down. Plus, there was no way to determine whether or not they were from the Omaticaya tribe. It was only a matter of time until the Na'vi came back as a mob. This was going to get really ugly, really fast.

Alex was about to thank him for his time and effort when a voice on the loudspeaker came on.
"Attention all personnel." a standard issue feminine corporate loudspeaker voice came on. "Condition Orange. Extra-terrestrials sighted preparing to attack. All personnel please go to Condition Orange immediately. This is not a drill."
"Oh, shit..." Gage whispered.
The atmosphere and activity in the hangar changed. Sirens started to go off. Mechanics started to hurriedly climb down their machines, where mercenaries and militia directed them to various areas such as the armoury and bunkers. People had dropped their tools and rushed to join them. It looked like people were preparing for war.
Alex's squad started to assemble on his position, looking at him for orders. His radio squawked from the guys out by the entrance, who asked for orders.
"What's the plan boss?"
Alex put his head into gear. "Right, okay... You guys all come with me, we're going up to the control area, or whatever you call it, and I'll see what we can do." He thumbed his earpiece radio. "You guys on the other hand, go with the other militia guys, and see what you can do. Just go with the flow." He turned back to his team set in front of him. "We need to show who's boss."
"Who is boss?" one of the team asked.
"Me."
"Well then, I'd better get moving then..." Gage started.
"No..." Alex grabbed Gage's arm. "YOU'RE coming with us."