Resist: to fight against, oppose

The first sense to return to him was touch. There was a gritty surface lying below him. Well really, it was covering him, but he knew he was lying on a bed of it.

There was also something pointy digging into his shoulder. It was uncomfortable, but he decided to ignore it to instead focus on the pain radiating throughout his chest and up his leg.

Before dwelling on the pain for too long though, he decided to turn to his other senses.

Hearing came to him next. The sounds of… crashing. Somewhat unfamiliar, he couldn't place what was crashing exactly, but knew the sound for what it was.

After a couple of moments, it occurred to him what the sound was exactly. And he hated to say that it took longer than it should have for him to realize the sound he hears was crashing waves. But in his defense, he had only been to the ocean once when he was a young child. He grew up far inland and by the time he had meant to travel by himself, the beaches were deemed "too hazardous" to allow tourist access.

Of course over his years of military training they did exercises and missions in the water, they were Marines after all. But for the most part, those types of missions had largely decreased, probably to the sadness of the men who served generations beforehand. Never did it let him enjoy listening to the sound of crashing waves.

And finally, he decided it was about time to open his eyes.

He slowly blinked them open and was hit with an onslaught of bright light, which caused him to quickly shut them and he let out a wince.

He should have expected that.

Even slower this time, he blinked his eyes open and looked around him.

He was lying on a beach. That explained the sounds of crashing waves, and the gritty feeling on his skin must have been the beach's sand.

But… What the fuck?

He quickly moved to sit up and grimaced as a wave of pain spread around his chest. It was a familiar pain though, one he felt a couple of times following some missions. That meant he must have broken a rib or two. Wouldn't be the first time, he had returned from many a mission with a couple of broken ribs, he was familiar with what one felt like.

A pain in the ass (well chest), but if he was careful, wouldn't be the end of him.

Now how did he end up here? And where exactly is 'here' anyway?

In the distance, he can see some half-submerged wreckage of some type of ship in the water. It looked completely destroyed as if the result of some large battle of sorts. But he couldn't spot anyone near or around it.

Just what happened here?

Then suddenly, his eyes widened as the events of the battle rushed through his head.

The battle. The Na'vi. The fire. The ship.

Spider.

Jake Sully.

His eyes immediately narrowed as that man's name crossed his mind.

The damn traitor.

Because that is what Jake Sully was, plain and simple. A traitor. He betrayed his promises, his country, and his race.

Not to mention the fact that it seems he is taking his son from him.

Miles didn't want to admit it. In fact, if anyone were to ask him, he would deny it. But he actually did feel like he and Spider had formed some type of bond in the month or so that they were tracking down the Sully's.

A bond that he probably fucked up to infinity right now.

This made him wonder where Spider was right now. Probably with the Sully's, he thought.

As much as he hated that thought, that was probably the best place for him to be right now. He saw what Sully would do to protect his children, and if the man thought of Spider as one of his own, then Quaritch doubts any harm will come to the boy.

He supposed he would just have to deal with the situation for now. Spider won't remain there long though, Quaritch would make sure of it.

But before he could deal with either Spider or Sully, he would have to find his team, or whoever remains of them. He was sure after that fight some of them would be injured just like him.

Slowly, he moved to stand up, intending on checking out what was around the wreckage of the ship.

Quaritch quickly realized that standing up is also another bad decision. A stabbing pain shot up his leg, causing him to crash back to his seated position on the sand.

He injured his leg, and from the feel of it, something must be broken. He slowly reached his arm down to pat his leg. It seems it wasn't his actual leg, but his ankle that sustained most of the injury.

So with his ankle, the probably broken ribs in his chest, and various cuts and scrapes, he counted himself lucky. There could have been far worse outcomes from that fight.

But that left him wondering.

Just how did he get up here on shore?

If he remembered correctly. His and Sully's fight ended with them under the ship. Could Sully have brought him to shore?

It was possible, Sully definitely had a bit of a soft heart when the time called for it, but unlikely in this circumstance. If Sully had saved him, Miles would probably be tied up in one of those Na'vi villages right now.

So who was left?

Spider, his mind supplied.

And although he supposed that was a very unlikely and small possibility, that was probably the only person he could think of that would save him.

The thought also left a… soft feeling in his chest.

He would be lying if he said he wanted to be a father. Truthfully, it was a thought the Colonel had never considered. He has always been too busy, chasing rank, chasing battles, chasing an adrenaline rush to even focus on starting a family. There was of course the boy's mother, the woman he had been sleeping with. But that was only because he was a man, no matter what his goals were, he still had urges he needed to tame.

Anyways, he supposed none of that mattered now.

Even if he never planned on having a kid, now that he knew he had one… how should he put this… the idea had grown on him.

That month or so that he spent with Spider, he'd hate to say it, and he would never admit it, but he rather enjoyed it. Getting to know the kid and all. It would have helped if the kid didn't want to kill him at the first chance though.

Yeah, that's something he would have to work on the next time he saw the boy. Because if there was one thing he wasn't going to do, was let the boy stay with the Sully's. He had too much pride for that.

Some might call it jealousy, but that's for them to worry about.

Despite all of this, he couldn't sit on this beach forever. First things first, find his men, the wreckage seemed as good as any place to start looking.

Quaritch slowly managed to move over to the wreckage, mostly limping along the way. The break seemed to be worse than he originally thought.

As he analyzed the wreckage he could see, he started to think that it would be very unlikely to find anyone alive in there. The ship, along with most of its entrances and exits, was submerged, water most likely filling any opening.

The ship itself was almost torn in two, with bits and pieces strewn all over the place. Even if one were to strip it for parts, Quaritch doubted any part of it would be useful.

He cursed as he slowly came to the realization that the chances of finding any of his men decreased greatly.

This was something he didn't want to dwell on for too long. There were far more important things to deal with. First of which was to find his men, figure out who was injured, or worse… dead.

Xx🐠xXx🐠xXx🐠xX

Quaritch gazed at the bodies laid out before him. All nine of the men he gathered for his team. They were all killed.

Fucking hell.

Brown. Ja. Lopez. Prager. Fike. Warren. Walker. Zhang. Zdinarsk. And a handful of human hunters.

He wasn't able to find Wainwright, however. Quaritch hoped that the bastard was still alive, with all his heart. Either way, it wasn't looking good for the missing man.

It would be a pain to find another man to replace him. Wainwright was one of the best men he ever worked with. Well, all of these men that made up his Recom team were, but Wainwright especially.

If he assumed that the US Forces follow the same protocol as when he was alive in his human body, they should send a search party a day after they stop receiving radio signals from them. Which for all he knew, they already sent that party out.

So Quaritch moved the bodies, both Recoms, and humans, to a spot on the shore where they would stay away from the water, and be less likely attacked by whatever wild animals were around there. He knew it was leaving him as a target for whatever Na'vi forces were around, but it was the least he could do for the men who served him. Have them easy to find for the search party who should arrive in the next day or so.

But Quaritch knew that he couldn't just stay on that beach. Sooner or later someone would find him.

If the Na'vi found him, he would most likely be dead by nightfall.

If the US Forces or RDA found him, he would most definitely be reamed a new one, possibly even court-martialed.

Because despite the almost limitless permission Gen Ardmore gave him to hunt Sully down, there were still limits that he did not follow. And Quaritch doubted the RDA would be too happy that he lost one of their best ships of Tulkun hunters.

His family has had a long and proud history of service in America's armed forces. He was not about to be the one to squander that.

So that means that he would need to get Sully's head before whatever reinforcements General Ardmore sends after him.

Because they wouldn't stop looking when they saw the men on the beach. No, they were too smart to think he'd die while having his body remain missing. They'd be looking for him.

But Quaritch still wasn't going to give up on the mission he had been on before, even if he had to do it alone.

Some might say he was going on an idiotic solo suicide mission, but he didn't care. Two missions were keeping him alive right now:

Getting Jake Sully's head

Finding Spider