James Cameron owns Avatar, not me.
Chapter 10: Hurricane Season
Date: March 3rd, 2170
Location: Outer Orbit of Polyphemus, Alpha Centauri A system
He hated the headache. And the taste of cotton in his mouth. And the way his joints screamed in protest when he tried to move. He hated waking up from Cryo in general, but then again, who did not? Getting frozen into a cube and then thawed out was not a pleasant process, even if it was a necessary one. He would really rather not lose several years of his life starting at the walls of the ship, thank you.
I really have no idea how the hell the crews stay sane.
Groaning, he lay back with his eyes closed as the medtechs carefully unhooked the needles and tubes from his body.
"I take it we're there?" he asked aloud, not bothering to open his eyes.
"Yessir." the one taking the IV line out of his left arm replied. "We're about twelve hours out from orbit, but the Commodore wanted the senior staff awake and ready for a video conference before we wake the rest of the team up tomorrow."
Parker sighed and carefully pushed himself up, grabbing the wall as he did so. "Well, that most likely means something's gone wrong already, so I'd better go fix it shouldn't I?"
The medtechs laughed dutifully before pushing themselves off, floating towards the front of the ship to prepare everything so they could easily awaken the full complement the next day.
He, meanwhile, headed in the opposite direction, carefully adjusting himself properly before heading into the main crew area, the weak artificial gravity pulling his feet to the ground and he found it oddly comforting to be able to walk again. Moving slowly down the long tube connecting the rotating command section to the rest of ship, he eventually emerged into the ship's cramped bridge.
"Mornin' Sunshine." the captain drawled, nodding his head towards a vacant station, "Video conference is already startin', and I sent one oh mah crew to get ya some food."
It took Parker's frosted brain several moments to translate what the man had said into intelligible English before he nodded, murmured his thanks, and took the indicated seat, the previous occupant having already brought up the conference channels, the screen showing him Commodore Bradley, Captain Thomes, and Oberst Weigand. That Weigand looked as haggard as he felt cheered up him immeasurably.
"Administrator, you're here, good." The Commodore began, stroking the silver beard that contrasted sharply with his midnight black skin. "We sent our arrival message yesterday, and received a full report in response. Apparently Professor McKinney has continued working even in his old age, the new algorithms improve the bit-transfer rate from 3-bits per hour to nearly twenty. It is still prohibitively expensive, but it will allow more detailed communication with Terra."
He blinked at the last, "Terra?"
Bradley nodded, "Apparently a new Renaissance is underway, at least in Western civilization. The United Nations officially moved to recognize the Earth by its more Latin name last year."
The colonel spoke up at this point, "While that is interesting, I am more concerned about the political situation back home."
"The communication was light on details. Twenty-bits per hour is still very limited remember. The basics are that the UN is holding things together, but that minor conflicts have started to break out across Africa and Indonesia."
Parker frowned, "More resource wars?"
The Commodore grunted in acknowledgment, "Most likely. There was an undercurrent of haste in the communication, as well as a reminder that without a successful return our race could very well tear itself apart."
Thomes sighed on her screen, with one of her pale hands massaging her forehead, "Nothing is ever simple is it? Have we at least achieved contact with any of the old satellites in orbit?"
"A few. Most of the lower-orbit ones are gone, but the long-term ones in place around Polythemus are still reporting, as well as maybe a third of the Pandoran ones." Bradley paused, checking something off-screen, "There is some good news for us, the rainy season is in full swing, that means that most of the target continent is currently covered in storms, and the only functioning weather satellite is predicting it will stay that way for several more weeks at least."
"Good," he spoke up, "Any chance that the Avatar team could notice we're using the satellites?"
"Assuming that they're still alive?" the commodore shook his head, "No, they're broadcasting in the open at this point, all we have to do is listen. There aren't any signals being detected from Hell's Gate, so both the chances of them being alive, much less still having any of the long-range scanners online to try and pick us up, is minimal."
He felt.. ambiguous on that. On one hand, they had betrayed him, held him hostage, and then booted him off-world. On the other, he was not a particularly violent individual, and wishing them dead, especially considering that on Pandora, dead was usually synonymous with 'eaten', was something else entirely from not liking them.
Lost in his musings, he missed the next part of the Commodore's debrief, snapping out of it only when Weigand spoke, "So, at this point everything is going according to plan. The improved communications with home are a bonus, and the storms are exactly as we need them to be to cover our initial arrival. Let's start getting everyone up and ready, we're going to have to move fast once we land, I want our defensive perimeter established as soon as possible. That reminds me, Parker, has your team chosen a name for Extra-solar colony Two?"
Nodding, Parker smiled. "As the base will be located near the river Styx, my staff felt it fitting for our new home to be named Tartarus."
Date: March 5th, 2170
Location: Tartarus (Extra-solar Colony 2), Pandora, Alpha Centauri A system
Parker had never seen army engineers in action before. Within moments of landing in the small clearing, Captain Jones had immediately started shouting and organized chaos had descended upon the area. Valkyries loaded with the clear-cutting equipment had landed immediately after those carrying the troops had lifted off and away, and the engineers had promptly put the miners operating them to work, starting up the process of enlarging the small clearing to the massive size required.
Heavy tarps had been erected over the areas where the first bunkers would be set into the ground, and men were already tearing at the muddy soil with hand tools. Weigand and Parker had taken refuge from the steady rain and largely stayed out of Jones' way as he directed his men. Transports had been steadily coming and going, offloading men and, more importantly, equipment for several hours before the first incident occurred.
Shouting had broken out on the left side of the clearing, followed by the dull roars of an AMP suit opening fire. Before Parker had even reacted to the sound, everyone in uniform had drawn their weapons and taken up firing positions. Several automatic weapons joined the heavy thuds of the AMP's gun for several moments before going silent.
"Medic!" the bellow came suddenly across the radio in the silence, and a pair of men bearing red crosses had sprinted into the underbrush.
"Report!" Weigand snapped into his own headset.
"Viperwolf pack." Jone's voice came across a few moments later. "Jumped one of our guys, AMP suit punched it off our guy and shot it to pieces. Rest of the pack attacked but we killed two more, drove the rest off. Our guy's cut up bad but the medics say it's mostly flesh wounds from the claws, AMP got it off him before it could bite him."
Parker shivered. He'd seen what Viperwolves jaws could do to human flesh, and the bones beneath. He turned on his own headset, "Any sign of the natives?"
"Negative," the other American replied, "And let's hope it stays that way."
The Oberst spoke, "Parker, what's the status on the gravel mine? We need to start working on the complex as soon as possible."
He called up the data on his tablet, "We just landed the main digger two hours ago, its broken ground, but it's slow going in all of this mud. It should hit the stone by tonight, and we'll be landing the mixing equipment in the morning."
His superior nodded, "Good. We must remain on schedule as best as we are able. It is only a matter of time before things worse than a few viperwolves stumbled across us."
Parker nodded and checked a few more entries from his mining teams. "Clear cutting is ahead of schedule, a few of your AMP teams are helping out by dragging the downed trees out of the way of the clear-cutters. Gravel pit should be on schedule, and the survey team from the new mine site says their equipment reports amounts matching the orbital scans, it's a very good sized lode there."
He paused to take a quick sip of water, awkwardly realigning his exopack on his face after he was done, "Thomes called in an hour ago while you were busy with Jones. They've shut down the anti-matter reactor on the Dream, and she's in geo-sync orbit above us. They'll start launching satellites tomorrow once they've finished reconfiguring her."
"Sehr sehr gut." Weigand glanced to his left as the medics raced past, a blood covered form on the stretcher they carried. Parker grimaced as he noticed it, and he followed them up and into one of the Valkyries before going back to examining his reports, feeling queasy. The sight of blood had never been one he cared for, and it took him a while to get his head back into the game.
Less than five hours later, gunfire broke out again, followed once more by a scream of "Medic!" across the radio.
"I hate this planet." he muttered.
The mining foremen he had been talking with, another Hell's Gate veteran, murmured, "Amen."
Date: Marth 9th, 2170
Location: Tartarus Base, Pandora, Alpha Cenaturi A System
"We think there may be some survivors of the Avatar team."
Parker blinked at snapped his attention to Kapitan Adler, who was delivering the briefing. The base had begun to take shape over the last several days, and even though the meeting was still taking place under a heavy tarp, there were numerous concrete bunkers now decorating the freshly enlarged clearing. Gaping pits revealed the future foundations of larger buildings, and the cut trees had been pressed into use as supports, keeping the muddy soil from simply refilling the precisely dug holes.
The German had recently returned after scouting the old Hell's Gate location, and Parker had been expecting him to report that the place was in ruins, which it was, but that had not been something he had expected to hear.
"I beg your pardon?" he asked, causing everyone to look at him. "I mean, how the hell would a bunch of tree-hugging scientists survive here for sixteen years?"
"I do not know," the lithe Germen captain replied, "But there is evidence of habitation in the old Armory block. Its electrical system has been tied to a back up generator in the interior, and there were numerous cots located within. Relatively fresh oil stains would indicate a functioning vehicle of some form, and we think it likely they've been using the building to avoid the yearly radiation storms."
He frowned at that, "What are we going to do about them?"
"Nothing," Weigand spoke. "We treat them as we treat the Na'vi, we ignore them unless they initiate contact with us first. "
"But they would be the ones most likely to discover us! We can't exactly hide the fact that we're hauling away everything we can from Hell's Gate and the mining site!" he protested, "Shouldn't we at least apprehend them or something?"
The Oberst was shaking his head before he had even finished. "No we will not, Administrator. They are still human, and given the lack of any Avatar control signals to be found, it could be that they have remained separate from the natives. It is also quite possible that, as scientists, they have come across something important during their time here. We talk first. If they do not have any information of value, or remain overly dedicated to their blue-skinned friends, then perhaps we can go with your method."
Parker mulled that thought around before nodding slowly. He was not fond, to put it lightly, of being reminded that he was not in overall command here, but what the other man had said made sense. No sense in throwing away a valuable resource without at least attempting to use it first, even if the odds of the hippies siding with their own species was astronomically low, in his opinion.
The briefing continued, with Thomes taking up the speaking role via the communications panel on the table before them. "We've landed everything we can until more of the construction is complete. We still have the heavy mining equipment and most of the heavy weapons up here, as well as the disassembled Samson squadron."
Jones spoke up here, "We should have the perimeter finished within another few days, and the landing pad along with the apartments are next on our list, we can expect those done within two weeks. A bigger concern is that satellite imagery shows that we'll be losing our cloud cover in just over a week, and even the natives will be smart enough to notice the Valkyries when they bring down the rest of our gear."
"No help for it." The Oberst shook his head. "The outer perimeter will be established by then, as will be our satellites network. If the natives try and attack, we'll see how they like dealing with heavy fixed defenses, and if they call on other tribes for help like they did before, our satellites will give us ample warning to decide what to do about it. Let's get back to work people, remember, Terra and humanity are counting on us out here."
Next up is Chapter 11: The Game Begins
And the expedition has arrived and begun construction of their new base. Wonder how long they'll remain unnoticed by the locals hmm? And what will Max and the others do when they realize whose back?
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