Chapter 12 - Endgame

Grace stared at the wall of the small holding cell. It was a grey, dismal wall, fitting her current mood. She was so drained and overwhelmed that it was hard to feel anything. It was probably not surprising that they had ended up in that cell eventually. In fact it had taken longer than she had anticipated. Parker had granted them one last chance to talk to the Na'Vi but of course with the attack on Hometree underway the Omaticaya hadn't much cared for what she and Jake had to say. They had ended up tied on stakes. Diplomacy had failed. And so had her work.

Now that she and her team had lost their last shred of usefulness for RDA they had yanked her and Jake out of their Avatar units and thrown them in this cramped cell, together with Norm.

With nothing to do except staring at the wall her mind unfortunately had time to let the events for the last months sink in. Inevitably she reviewed each encounter with the Colonel over and over again. And the more she thought about it the more nauseous she got.

He had called her a whore. And he had been right but not in the way he had intended it.

She had sold her body for money. But not to a man. It was worse.

She was a corporate whore.

She had solicited herself and her work to a soulless corporation. RDA had always been quite forthcoming with their goals on Pandora. They had never made a secret out of their intention to strip the moon of all the unobtainium they could extract – damage to local flora and fauna notwithstanding. Her job had been the relocation of the natives for when the inevitable happened, adorned with some research here and there. She had known this. And she had been very good at finding excuses why what she did was different or acceptable when in fact it wasn't. Seeing Hometree burn had hit the point home that this was the culmination of all her work. As there was nothing humanity could offer the Na'Vi in exchange for making them leave their sacred grounds the only option left had been a full scale attack. Planned and executed with her data. She had been compliant in genocide, no other words to describe it.

And the Colonel had it known, too. He had always been truthful in his intentions, the current events the logical conclusion of a decade-long buildup.

In a way, she and him were different sides of the same coin. They both had a job to do and took it very seriously. They both were stubborn to the point of self-harm. And both of them were fiercely protective of the people under their command. He, like her, was a professional and he probably saw everything he did as part of the job description as brutal as it was. That was probably why they hated each other so much – because they were so similar. But then again. She knew that she hated him. Yet the feelings he harbored towards her were of a different nature. And a part of her wondered if things between them could have been different if they had met under different circumstances. She would never know. Although she had the distinct feeling that he wasn't finished with her.

The sooner she could remove everything pertaining to him from her life the better. They had told her that she would spend the remainder of her time on Pandora in custody. Then she would be thrown on the next transport to Earth and where she could live out the rest of her days on a dying planet with the knowledge that she had doomed another one, filled with life. But she didn't get her hopes up that it would be so easy. Quaritch had probably planned something else for her.

The scraping of wheels on the floor made her look up and a moment later a familiar face rolled a food trolley in the holding area. Grace recognized the young woman as Trudy the pilot who had worked with them before. She tensed. It was far too early for dinner.

"Personally I think steak's too good for these traitors," she heard Trudy say. That caught the guard's attention.

"They get steak? That's bullshit. Let me see that…" When he bent down Trudy put her pistol on his head. Maybe not all was lost…

Night had settled over the Hell's Gate complex but nobody could think of sleep. Preparations for next day's operation were still under way and the general mood was strained. This was the culmination of well-prepared campaign. Miles Quaritch had always thought that he would feel more elated on the eve of his biggest triumph. In his mind he had built up a very detailed picture how everything would play out. But now he found that reality didn't live up to his expectations. This disappointed him immeasurably and as a consequence he was irritable and restless. He felt a certain annoyance whenever his attention was required on one of the finer details of the operation.

That stupid bitch had ruined everything! Even after he had thrown her in the brig his thoughts kept compulsively returning back to her. He saw her white skin, her red hair, her delicate features. He saw her moaning and writhing under his hands, her body enjoying what her mind told her not to. She was exquisite and unique. He knew that this was not the appropriate time for his fantasies and he hated himself for that.

He was tempted to pull her out of her cell and beat her up again for captivating him like this. Damned tree-hugger. At the same time he wondered what it was about her that made him so angry. She had fought a fight that she never had a chance of winning. But she had managed to escape his control on occasions he hadn't anticipated. And he despised losing control, despised that she had succeeded in hitting him from the left field because he was blinded by lust. At the same time he admired her stubbornness and dedication. She had been a formidable opponent, the only woman worthy of him on the entire base.

When the strike against the Na'Vi was finished Quaritch would persuade Parker to keep Augustine on-planet. He would claim her for scientific consultation while sending the other traitors home. She was too valuable to let go both as an asset and as a woman. Although without the Avatar project it wouldn't be the same any more. Having her own department had made her an equal to him. Without her department she would be his inferior. It would be quite enjoyable to see her struggle with that.

Their recent spat in the interrogation room, one of the few ones in the last months when she had allowed herself to really cut loose, had shown Quaritch that he couldn't let go of her that easily. And from now on he would make sure that there was no other man she could run to. She would be his, his alone. And maybe then he would understand what he felt for her, because it ran deeper than simple sexual attraction. He cared for her in a way he couldn't ever explain to her because he failed to understand it himself. The only thing he knew for sure was that he wanted to keep her presence in his life at any cost.

"Sir, we have an unscheduled departure."

The voice of the operator next to him in the control center took him out of his deliberations. It took him a second and a glance on her monitor to understand what was going on. Then he slammed the alarm button, cocked his pistol and kicked down the emergency door. Blind rage overtook him and he cursed himself for his carelessness and overconfidence. Somehow she had managed to acquire friends in places he had never thought possible.

The only thing that mattered now was firing on that fucking Samson, stopping her and her band of traitors from escaping a second time. He should have known not to underestimate her! She wasn't finished so easily! And so he emptied his magazine before he realized that he had forgotten to put on his air mask. Unfazed the helicopter flew into the night sky carrying her away from his sphere of influence to an unknown destination. It felt like defeat.

If he couldn't have her then nobody should!

Grace knew from the beginning that they had to hurry. It wouldn't take long for him to realize what was going on. And she wanted to be as far away from Hell's Gate as possible when that happened. He wouldn't take kindly to what she was about to do and while there was a very distinct possibility that she would face his wrath eventually she had no particular desire to do so in the current moment. Fortunately, Trudy had already fired up her helicopter when Grace and the others reached it, so it was only a matter of boarding before they could escape, increasing their chances to flee undiscovered.

She helped lift Jake into the machine and was just about to hand over the wheelchair to Norm when she heard the scream. She had never thought a human being able to produce a sound such as this and it made her freeze instinctively.

When she saw the muzzle flash, she knew that their time was up.

Suddenly there was a stabbing pain in her left side.

Shit.

"Aaaah, crap, not again," she groaned, pressing her hand on the wound, before jumping in the helicopter and sitting down.

She clutched her abdomen, trying to keep the red stain from spreading while Jake looked at her with horror in her eyes.

"This is gonna ruin my whole day," she quipped, trying to lighten the mood.

That asshole had shot her.

And the worst part was that she knew that she was the reason he was shooting at them at the first place.

Lying on her makeshift bed – a repurposed Avatar unit – Grace realized her time was running out sooner than she had estimated. Despite all efforts to treat her with a trauma kit she simply didn't stop bleeding. Quaritch's bullet must have hit her spleen or other vital organs. It had been bad from the beginning.

The only possibility for her to be saved was to return to Hell's Gate and get professional treatment. The medical facilities were top-notch for an off-Earth location, and she had seen them perform miracles on injured marines and Avatar bodies alike. Even after the little stunt they all had pulled just now she was certain that they would treat her and rescue her life. But doing so meant giving up everything she had fought for. Worse, it would bring her back into Quaritch's clutches. And she feared that he wouldn't let her go again afterwards. She would exchange her freedom for her life, probably spending the rest of her time as his personal plaything. And that was unacceptable. She would rather die.

The only thing she regretted was not being there for Jake during his biggest trial. He had to find his way now alone, although she was convinced that he was capable of doing so. She had taught him everything he needed to know.

"Hang on Grace, we're getting you help," she heard him say and turned her head. He sat next to her bed, keeping her company. She reached out to him, and he grabbed her hand. The way his eyes rested on her she probably already looked like death herself.

"Don't worry about me," she managed, trying a lopsided smile that probably resembled a grimace.

"Everyone worries about you," he replied, the despair in his voice tangible.

"I've always known that I would come to a bad end." The Colonel scolding her for her lifestyle appeared before her inner eye and she cringed. It was ironic that he was the one who now was directly responsible for her untimely demise.

"Don't say that."

"What else do you want me to say?"

"Not so much, so that you don't overexert yourself."

"Doesn't matter now…"

He stroked her hair from her sweaty face, and she felt tears in her eyes. This was the first genuine loving gesture someone had applied to her since she had come to Pandora. She grabbed Jake's hand and put it on her cheek. For a moment she contemplated telling him about the sorry affair between her and the Colonel. But then she decided against it. The boy was upset enough as it was without the need to add to his distress.

She moaned in pain, and he was immediately alerted.

"We will get you proper treatment," he said helplessly.

"Of course." By now he must have understood that this was a one-way trip for her. But she indulged him, played his little game of pretend because it made things so much easier for both of them. "Thank you."

"Don't die on me here, promise!"

"Promise."

She closed her eyes, letting her mind drift away. She felt a calm come over her that she hadn't felt before, as if everything would turn out alright. It's over. I'm free of him, thanks to you, she thought. And who knows. Maybe I did buy us some time. It would always have ended like this anyway.

The Tree of Souls was the most beautiful thing Grace had ever seen. It glowed in the darkness, giving off a pleasant, calming light and there was this soft hum in the air. She was touched that the whole clan of the Omaticaya had gathered to honor her. But even if they were too late, she felt grateful that they had granted her to witness this marvel before she died.

Everything had become a blur after her talk with Jake. She must have fallen asleep because the next thing she remembered was him in his Avatar form gently putting the oxygen mask over her face and carrying her outside. She didn't know how Jake had managed to pull it off in such a short time, but he had somehow become Toruk Macto and thus convinced the Omaticaya to give them a second chance they didn't really deserve. But not only that, they had agreed to treat her with some sort of ritual. When she had pressed Jake for details, he had come up empty-handed, because he hadn't understood the finer details. The only thing that mattered to him was that she would get some treatment. So, the only thing left was to accept whatever fate had in store for her.

"Look where we are, Grace," Jake whispered as he carried her frail body through the grove, passing rows of kneeling Na'Vi. Somewhere along the way they had gotten rid of her bloody clothes, but she didn't mind anymore. Her surroundings were too captivating.

"I need to take some samples," she whispered with a wan smile.

Carefully, Jake placed her in the grass in front of the tree. The ground felt warm and comforting, as if returning to the long-lost embrace of a loving mother. It was one of those feelings that you never knew you needed until you felt it. She sighed contentedly. All the voices were suddenly so far away, but Grace gathered that Mo'at tried to transfer her consciousness from her dying human body into her Avatar which was placed next to her into the grass.

From a fog she sensed Jake kneel next to her, taking her hand. She gripped it weakly. "Hang on, they're gonna fix you up," he tried to reassure her. But it was alright.

For some reason she felt the need to give him some words of comfort in case the ritual wouldn't work as intended.

"I … always held back. But you gave them your heart. I'm proud of you, Jake," she told him. She saw his eyes glistening and he swallowed visibly, moved by her admission. "Help them. You do whatever it takes. You hear me?" She was his boss for the final time.

"I will," he said with a heavy voice. And she knew that he would. He had become a capable young warrior. He looked at her for the last time. Then there was the implicit understanding that everything was said. She would see him on the other side.

The humming intensified and Grace felt her consciousness slipping. But what awaited her was not dark. It was pure light and love.

And then there was only Eywa.