I do not own Avatar, as anyone whose brain is functioning should well know.
Chapter 1: Expositions, Expeditions
Date: February 27th, 2161
Location: Tyuratam, Kazakhstan, Earth, Sol System
Parker Selfridge grimaced, clutching at the armrests of his seat with white knuckles as the shuttle bucked and quivered, descending rapidly through the atmosphere towards the world's oldest spaceport.
To say that this was not how he had intended to return to Earth would be a larger understatement than stating that the Na'vi hated technology. A few more years down the road, returning to a massive retirement package and maybe a resort home in northern California.. that was what he had always pictured whenever someone had brought up the subject of returning to Earth. Being forced to go back, Hell's Gate overrun by savages and traitors, was something he had not even dreamed to be a possibility.
Everything had been going so well...oh sure, the natives had never liked that they were there, but well, so what? The blue monkeys had learned quickly enough just how destructive humans could get, and so had generally avoided them. Which worked out really, because his mining teams preferred to not be impaled by giant arrows, leading to his teams working as far away from the natives as they could get.
The unstated rule of 'avoid each other, shoot at anyone too stupid to live' had worked out for more than a decade. It had worked through his entire predecessor's career, and through most of his own ten year tenure.
Then Grace fucking Augustine had gotten her Avatar, and everything changed. Oh sure, the old bat had been there for quite a while, nearly as long as Miles Quaritch had. But as soon as she could actually go out in to the jungle for long-term missions, as soon as she could actually talk to the natives without getting arrows shot at her, things.. started to become different.
At first, he had thought it was a god-send, and was ecstatic when the rest of the Avatars arrived on the next shipment. The natives were eager enough to learn English, which meant that soon they would actually be able to negotiate for once, figure out what the monkeys wanted. Roads, farms, medicine, hell, with the stereolithography plant, there was almost no limit as to what the humans could give them.
Then they attacked one of his dozers.
He had to admit, that had pissed him off. Augustine had been getting tense about the mining, true, but that had not prepared him or anyone else for the idea that the natives would actually try to assault them. Hell, they had taught the stupid monkeys for nearly two years, offered them everything they could think of, and what did they get in return? Fucking attacked!
Shortly after that.. that was when he first realized that there were problems with the Avatar program. After the shootout, they had damn-near gone on strike in protest of what had happened, and it had taken a lot of convincing and arguing on his part to keep them working. It had been a few days later that Quaritch quietly brought to his attention just how different that Avatar team members looked from everyone else. Their skin pasty and pale, bodies appearing malnourished even to his eyes, shoulders slumped, eyes unfocused unless mention of their next mission was brought up.
It was like looking at addicts. And the arguments.. Jesus Christ, the arguments. They would fight with the miners or sec-ops personnel over anything. They had all forgotten why they were on Pandora. They were not there to learn how a bunch of savages wearing loincloths lived, the exact way they jumped from tree to tree.
Humans were on that moon for Unobtanium. Period. End of sentence, end of story. The science wing existed only for the purpose of quieting the greens and liberals who bitched that they needed to know more about the closest inhabitable world to Earth.
He sighed and closed his eyes, mind slowly running clips of the near decade he had been on the moon. The early years, when Augustine understood just how dangerous the place was when you were human. When she and Quaritch could actually agree on things. When she had seemed distressed when Sec-ops or his miners were attacked by some new and horrible creature.
When Jake Sully had arrived, he had hoped, hell, he had prayed to God seriously for the first time since he was a kid, that things would go back to that. That the marine turned Avatar would be able to quiet down the natives, that he and the other fresh geeks would be able to mellow Augustine out, and that they would be able to concentrate solely on mining once again.
Instead.. everything had gone batshit insane. Looking back at it.. he was not surprised that Quaritch had gone nuts at the end. The man had been there for a very, very long time, the last member of the old guard that had bled and died to hack Hell's Gate out of the jungle. He had hated the place with a passion so pure that it was holy, and had converted Sec-Ops and even his miners to his brand of furious faith.
All we wanted to do was mine unobtanium, put in our years, and go home.. and instead.. every native animal on the planet goes nuts, the Avatar team betrays us, and we get booted out, sent home to get turned into scapegoats for the biggest disaster in decades..
He glanced down at the small piece of paper that held the short, terse message that the Venture Star had received upon entering near-Earth orbit.
From: ICA Command, Roma, Italia
To: ISV Venture Star
- Senior staff to land immediately at Baikonour Cosmodrome for full debrief by UN, ICA, RDA.
The message was just as terrifying, if not more so, than the sight of the enraged natives, covered in warpaint, had been back on that death world.
His mind had already worked out some of the implications of the short sentence, and he did not care for what he thought it meant.
We should be being greeted by RDA control out of San Francisco, not the ICA bureaucrats in Italy, which means that the United Nations stripped the RDA of their aerospace control rights. That the RDA was mentioned last... means that they are going to be the least important persons there. All of that meant that he was going to be in a very difficult position in the near future. His only real defense lay in two parts: Firstly, he had been acting in the best interests of the company, and Secondly, that the final chaos was caused by Quaritch, without his approval.
The first was a terrible defense, and he knew it. 'I was acting in the company's best interests' was far too close to 'I was only following orders', and just uttering those words could be enough to screw him over completely in any court on the planet.
Assuming they even bother to send you to a court, a nasty little voice whispered in his inner ear.
Parker grimaced again, feeling his face pale and rather hoping that no one around him noticed. Fortunately, it seemed that everyone else in the shuttle were suffering from just as dark and gloomy moods as he himself was, all staring at their own feet, faces and hands pale, or else simply gazing into space at nothing.
Shortly after he elected to join the 'stare into space' group, and far too soon for his liking, the shuttle's engines changed in pitch, the massive vehicle seeming to sway slightly as the vertical engines were engaged for the final approach and landing.
The pilots, who were apparently just as worried over their own future as everyone else, did not even bother to announce when they landed, choosing instead to simply flash the warning lights and to open the cargo bay door.
Fighting to stay calm, he settled his exopack onto his face, unbuckling himself as he did so.
Rising, he turned, sighting the small group of well dressed people already purposefully striding towards the landed vehicle, and fought to keep the fear off of his face.
All right.. Parker blew out his breath, Get over it, it was NOT your fault, you KNOW that, all you have to do is explain it to them.
Nodding to himself, steeling his spine, he slowly made his way down the ramp, other members of his mining staff and the few surviving Sec-Ops officers cautiously following him.
"Mr. Selfridge," a middle aged man greeted, his upper-class British accent making him seem even more distinguished than his expensive suit already indicated, "We have been expecting you."
Date: February 28th, 2161
Location: Roma, Italia, Earth, Sol System
He reclined as best he could in the excruciatingly delightful comfort of the leather chair, glancing about the small conference room as he did so. There was not much to see really, it was like any others of its kind. Plain dry-wall, the fluorescent lights on the cheap ceiling, a table that might have been bought from a department store.
Raising the cheap, ceramic cup to his lips, he carefully sipped the real coffee that he had been given, trying not to show just how good it tasted after so many years of making do with instant copycats that were no where near as good as the real thing.
And it's also much better at keeping one awake, he thought grumpily. After landing, they had bundled him off onto a train, which had raced to Moscow. Not even bothering to answer his questions, they had made their way onto another train, this one to Rome, dragging him along with. Upon arriving, he was told tersely not to answer any questions that any media members asked him, and was then driven to the ICA facility.
After having to push and shove their way through the massive crowd, they had led him to the room, offered him coffee and donuts, and then waited patiently for him to finish. The two women whom he thought represented the ICA and RDA remained silent, ignoring any attempt at conversation, and he realized that his fate was entirely in the hands of the UN investigator.
The British man, who had introduced himself as Matthew Wallace, smiled easily as he sipped from his own cup, before leaning back in his own chair, arms resting comfortably upon their rests, "Now, Mr. Selfridge we have a great many questions to ask you, as I am sure that you are aware. The message you sent before you left Pandora caused quite a stir here you know."
Parker sighed and nodded, dragging his mind away from the excellent taste and to the matters at hand, "Yes, I know." he decided to pre-empt what he felt would be asked, "As I am sure that you are aware, our relationship with the natives was always.. tense." He began to explain, in great detail, what had happened over his tour on the world.
Maybe half-way through, he began to really warm to his theme, detailing exactly how Augustine, Quaritch, and Sully had acted over the last, fateful, six months. The increasing numbers of attacks on the Hell trucks, the increasing tension amongst the Sec-Ops personnel, and the increasing distance between the Avatar team and everyone else.
Wallace would occasionally ask questions, seeking additional detail about one point, or for a reiteration of something else, but largely he allowed Parker to vent nearly eight years of frustration.
When he had finished describing the battle, as he had experienced it, and the aftermath and exile that had followed, the Investigator led his head fall back onto the top of the chair, sighing.
"So.. the fate of humanity may be to be brought low by a crippled jarhead who turned native. How... lovely."
He gave the other man a smile that was more pained grimace than anything resembling an actual smile, "Tell me about it. The last few days there... were pretty insane. Natives everywhere, taking away any guns we had, the Avatars herding us around, screaming at any Sec-Ops people they recognized or knew.. Sully telling us never to return."
"Ah yes, the Avatar team." Wallace nodded, sitting fully upright once more, "So, it would be your recommendation to not restart the Avatar program when we return?"
Parker blinked at the change of conversation, and tried to clamp down on the sudden excitement that had risen within him. "Yes, oh definitely yes, they were the ones who really brought down our entire operation. We might have been able to hold out at least until the next ISV arrived if they hadn't stormed the Ops-Center and brought down the perimeter defenses."
"How would you characterize them? Why do you think that they betrayed their species?" the British man pressed.
"It was... gradual." he replied after a moment of thought, "But they changed. By the end, I don't even think they considered themselves humans anymore. They thought of themselves as natives stuck in human bodies. It was..." he sought the right words, "Like watching an addict get hooked to a drug. They started to care more about their fake bodies than their real ones, spent all their time in the links, fought with anyone not in their department over any little thing."
He began speak faster, becoming almost giddy as he dared to hope that it wasn't going to be him that was offered up as the reason that the mining had failed, "And even beyond that, they failed at every objective they were given. They were supposed to act as our diplomats, help us get what we needed while avoiding bloodshed. Instead, all we got from them was 'Don't do that, you'll piss them off. Don't that either. Or that. On second thought, stop mining altogether so we can learn how to swing through the trees just like them.' They never seemed to understand why we were there. They-"
His mouth stopped abruptly, something that Wallace had said much earlier only now reaching his brain, "Wait, return? It's already planned?"
"Naturally. As you said, unobtanium was the only reason that we were there, and it is the only reason to go back." Wallace leaned forwards, placing his hands together, "Things here at home are.. difficult. Much of the planet is still deeply scarred from the Third World War, and the reclamation projects are entirely reliant upon anti-matter reactors to provide the power necessary to both power the reclamation as well as the cities were far too many people are now crowded "
One of the women, the one from the ICA, finally spoke, "More than that, we need unobtanium for additional ISV's. Signals from our probes in the Epsilon Eridani system have finally gotten here, and they indicate at least two habitable worlds. It is not an ideal solution," she rolled a shoulder, "But we are not spoiled for choice as the moment. Colonial ISV's are on the drawing boards, and we hope to be able to start shuttling large amounts of colonists to that system within a few decades. It won't alleviate the pressure of overpopulation, but it will provide hope, which is badly needed for far too many right now. But in order to do all of that.." her voice trailed off.
"You need unobtanium. Lots of it." he supplied, nodding slowly.
She nodded, "We are already building four new ISV's using existing, man-made superconductors, and we have reactivated the old Explorer class, but it is simply too costly to continue building, and maintaining, that type of ship indefinitely."
"And this crisis could not have come at a worse time." Wallace picked up, and Parker shifted his focus, "The American, both North and South, reactors are largely in place, as are the European and North African ones. But Asia, Australia, the rest of Africa do not have them. Jealousy is going to grow as the reclamation projects continue, and there are already fears of yet more resource wars."
"This is all very fascinating, but why are you telling me?" he asked archly, starting to get irritated with how long the 'debriefing' was taking.
Wallace gave him a tight smile, "Because you need to know the reason you are being sent back."
His mind screeched to a halt, the bottom falling out of his stomach, "No. Not just no, Hell No!"
"Your options are as follows, go back and head the mining operation, or stay here and accept your due share of the blame alongside Sully, Augustine, and Quaritch."
His fingers curled into the leather arms of the chair, and he furiously thought over his options.
"God damn you." he whispered after a few moments of rapid thought hammered home his very real lack of options. "God damn you to hell."
"Very good." Wallace smiled pleasantly, ignoring the venomous glare he was being given, "Now, I have other members of your staff to debrief and.. 'convince' to return as well. The lovely Ms. Tamina from your very own RDA will go over what will be happening over the next few days, and she will send you where you need to go. You seem to be a very intelligent man Mr Selfridge, I hope to see you soon."
With that Wallace rose, breezing easily out of the room, the ICA woman following him.
And that left him alone with Tamina, and it was she who blew out a breath and snarled, "Finally," before striding into the chair Wallace had vacated and sitting.
"Let me guess, press conference?" he asked, voice still terse and annoyed.
"Yes." the woman nodded, "And it will probably be a vicious one, as well being the first of many."
He glared at her, "Am I going to get any kind of break, or am I just a performing monkey?"
"A monkey." There was no humor in her tone, "The fallout, both against the RDA as well as against you, must be controlled. The United Nations may be taking the long-term view of what is going on, but you can bet your ass that most of the liberal crowd is going to flip out over 'slaughtering the natives'."
"They attacked us first!" he snapped, "Why don't they go, huh? See how easy it is to survive on that death-planet."
A twitch of a smile graced her lips, "Not a bad idea. Unfortunately we cannot do so, and must divert and appease them. The truth will not do much for that, and our lies must be kept simple. Tell me, the first major incident with the dozer and the school-house, were any sec-ops personnel or miners killed?"
"No, the dozer was automated and th-"
She cut him off smoothly, "Records will show that the dozer was manually operated, the pilot was burned alive, and the natives killed two brave Sec-Ops men who attempted to put out the fires. Did you or Quaritch know that the dozers were going to demolish those 'sacred trees' while en route?"
"I didn't. Quaritch probably did, he was getting extremely pissed over what was happening." he raised a hand to stop her interruption before she could start, "Quaritch did not know, and it was entirely Augustine's fault for failing to give us that information."
She actually did smile this time, "You are quick indeed, now, let us continue, we have much to go over, and we have to make sure that this press conference goes perfectly before you are sent to Germany."
He blinked slowly, "Germany?"
Date: March 1st, 2161
Location: Kiel, Deutschland, Earth, Sol System
The migraine was getting annoying. Doubly so because he had been putting up with it, on and off, for several days now. It had started just before the first press conference, continued unabated during that multi-hour, extremely aggravating, time period, and slowly crept back up even as he was shipped by high-speed rail north the German port city he now found himself in.
He had, at least, been able to meet with several of his old staff, all of whom had similar stories to his own. Debriefed in a hurry, then bullied, bribed, or blackmailed into signing up for the new expedition. A few had manged to get some snippets of what had happened during their six year transit at least, and had quickly shared with everyone else.
Most of it fit with what he and the others already knew or had guessed. The en route ISV's had been recalled, and the entire ISV fleet had been removed from RDA control and given over to the ICA, which in turn, had massively expanded and become a full organization within the UN. As time passed, and numerous investigations launched, many of the company's.. .less than savory secrets had come to light, and its powers, and those of the other mega-corporations, had been curbed heavily by the resurgent national governments.
Now he was stuck in yet another conference room, glancing around at the unfamiliar faces that were apparently the 'senior staff' of the new expedition.
The man at the head of the table finished reading whatever was on his tablet before rising, and nodding to everyone. He looked as though he was in the prime of his life, bits of silver only just gracing his dark hair, and his green eyes were piercing. The man paced as he spoke, looking from face to face as he did so.
"I am Oberst Eric Weigand." his accented voice commanded their attention, even though he had spoken rather quietly, "And I have been placed in charge of our expeditionary force. Now, most of us know each other, and have done preliminary planning, but for Herr Selfrigde's sake, I shall conduct a round of introductions."
He nodded to the thin, calm man closest to him, "Hauptmann Jones and his company of American Engineers will be in charge of base defenses and work with Herr Seflridge's men in the construction of our base. Hauptmann Adler," a man who could have been the poster child for Aryan perfection, "will command our air assets, and Hauptmann Kozlov," a bear of a man who dwarfed everyone else at the table, "and his Russian company will defend our mining operations."
The Oberst gestured with a hand at an old, ebony skinned man and the coldly beautiful blond behind him, "Kommodore Bradley will command our Interstellar vehicles, with Kapitaen Thomes acting as his second. She will be in command of the ISV Explorer's Dream, which will be placed above our new colony at all times to provide surveillance and control."
Weigand nodded towards a wall, tapping his tablet as he did so, bringing up a projected image of everything that was apparently going to be going with. "All told we shall have three hundred and thirty two military personnel, and a planned four hundred civilian miners and engineers. The military forces as well as all of our mining and construction equipment will be carried aboard the Capital Star, Jovian Storm, Luna's Rise, and Supernova. The civilians will be aboard the Emerald Skies and Ever Onwards. The Explorer's Dream will be loaded down with satellites and an additional pair of Valkyrie shuttles, as well as an additional series of habitation modules, including a fully stocked hospital section."
Parker raised a hand, and the Oberst nodded to him, "So I'm guessing that you're in overall command then?"
"Ja." the Colonel, he thought the rank was equivalent anyway, nodded, "You will be in command of our civilians, sans the ISV crewmen, but I will have overall command of the expedition."
He bit his lip then nodded, Not being in charge means that there is much less that can be pointed at me if something goes wrong. Again. "I can live with that, when do we leave?"
"Not for quite some time. Modifications to the Explorer's Dream will take a great deal time, and I want all of my personnel to be drilled to the highest level of readiness possible. In addition, you will need to work with Hauptmann Jones on the design of our future home."
"It will have to be from scratch. Given how fast plants grow there, Hell's Gate will be overrun long before we return, and we'll be lucky to even find what is left of our mobile sites."
Weigand shrugged, "Take what time you need to plan and design mein herr, for when we return, we must be sure that everything is as ready as is humanly possible, so that what happened before cannot happen again."
Next is Chapter 2: Joyless Nights