Don't know why I keep saying this, since it's perfectly obvious that I don't own Avatar.

Chapter 14: Midnight Duel

Date: March 26th, 2170

Location: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

"Let's get you out of here Administrator, I don't think you're quite suited to this kind of thing." Weigand's previous words echoed in Parker's head even as his shaking finger slammed down on the disconnect button, cutting off Patel and his groupies.

He had thought that the fight he had been trapped in earlier had been as horrible as it was going to get, but this cursed planet was doing everything it could to prove him wrong. It was made worse by the fact that it was nothing like he had imagined it would be, like the movies showed. There was no massive charge, the natives rushing at them, no humans leading brave counter-attacks. It was like a sinister game of hide and seek in the dark, arrows whistling in from the forest followed by short barks of gunfire in one area, then silence as both sides tried to see the other, before a short fight would break out in a different portion of their line.

From what the holotable showed, the bunkers and trenches were insulating the American engineers from the worst of the Na'vi attacks, but they had no idea how many Na'vi they had killed, if any, since they would not enter the clearing around the base. Flares were occasionally fired into the sky to improve the light in areas, and were then usually followed by a sudden roar as they concentrated fire on suddenly visible savages.

What seemed like an eternity passed, but a glance at the clock on the holo revealed it to have only been ten minutes, before a dozen AMP suits raced out from the Valkyrie they had been stored in, the computer marking Weigand's as the one in the lead. Carefully slowing to stops behind the eastern perimeter, their heavier weapons roared as they carefully supported the tiny men before them.

For a few moments, Parker thought that their arrival was the end of the battle, the native's attack slackening as they watched arrows simply rebound off the heavy exoskeletons.

He had been about to turn to the communications officer to ask her to open a channel to Weigand, to ask him if he was going to pursue with the AMP suits and put the Samsons in the air, when the cries of banshees ripped the air, and something that sounded like a pot shattered on the roof.

Fire alarms screamed to life and the temperature suddenly rose by a dozen degrees. Everyone scrambled out of the building as fast as they could, some only putting on their exopacks after they realized that they were outside.

Parker turned and stared, his heart pounding. The top of the Ops Center was covered in what looked like a tar substance that was aflame. A shadow passed over his head, he dropped to the ground with a scream, the soldiers around him doing the same, minus the scream.

The banshee and its rider banked hard to the right, and he had a perfect view as the rider threw what looked a like a pot with a small flame attached onto the top of one of the bunkers, which immediately burst into flames. He couldn't see the entrance from where he was, but part of him prayed that the engineers inside got out before the heat killed them. The concrete building itself would easily survive, but the fire could still quite easily kill the much more vulnerable humans inside.

Fires were breaking out left and right now, as more banshees and their riders swooped in, flying what looked like mere centimeters above the ground, and tossed their primitive Molotovs. Several of the AMP suits broke off from their positions and moved back into the base, one planting itself just a few meters from Parker and opening fire at the airborne attackers.

The savages, though, were not sticking around any longer than they had to, and were flying out of the area as fast as they could. Fortunately for the humans, bullets flew faster than Banshees, and Parker was sure that at least a dozen must have been hacked from the sky as they tried to flee. The sparks of gunfire from the north-western perimeter and the sight of two late-arriving riders being shot out of the sky by the defensive towers was highlighted against newly falling flares.

One of the banshees slammed into the ground near him, screaming in agony from a series of heavy wounds that had torn its left wings to pieces, its rider howling, trapped beneath her mount. The nearby AMP suit moved over with what seemed a terrible casualness, standing over both for a mere moment, before raising its right foot and slamming it down on the banshees neck. Parker felt his gorge rise at the horrible crash and cracking that followed, and the creature went still.

He did vomit, moments later, when he heard a horrible, animal screaming and made this mistake of looking to his left. Someone had just come out of one of the burning prefabs, and it was obvious that they had been hit directly by the burning tar. All he could see was the fire, blackened muscles, and a horribly melted face screaming in agony. The communications officer, tears in her eyes, took two steps over to him, raised her pistol at point blank range, and put two rounds into his head.

The horribly disfigured human collapsed instantly. Parker could not even tell if the charred, twitching mass had been a soldier or one of his miners, or even if it had been a man or woman.

The AMP pilot had also turned to look, and had swiftly whipped back to the trapped Na'vi woman. Setting its heavy weapon aside, it reached down, seized her in one of its massive hands, razed her up off the ground, ignoring her screams, and then simply squeezed.

He vomited again as he watched blood and gore explode from the savage's mouth, and the horrendous cracking as the native's rib cage compressed, and then shattered under the force of the AMP suit's hand. She went rag-doll limp mid-scream, and the AMP simply tossed her body to the side. Her chest had been crushed to maybe half of its original diameter.

The fighting continued on the perimeter for several more minutes, but he was too far gone to truely notice after what he had witnessed. The communications officer and two of the other staff soldiers helped him move over to one of the Valkyries, carefully setting him down beside it. After sitting, he belatedly realized how hard it had been to simply remain standing.

Time blurred for a while, as aftermath replaced battle. The Samsons were airborne, and the AMP suits were carefully advancing into the jungle to look for any remaining Na'vi, alive or dead.

Engineers were sprinting left and right, conscripting miners to try and put out the fires. Screams for medics and the racing red-cross soldiers added to the chaos.

Was this what it was like fifteen years ago? He wondered, idly noticing his own detachment to what was happening. Was this what happened when Quaritch and Sec-Ops flew to their deaths?

A pair of medics raced by, carrying a badly burned man on their stretcher. He was still alive, clutching his horribly burned left arm, and screaming.

He was vaguely aware of everything going dark as the smell of burned flesh reached his nose, and he idly contemplated forswearing meat forever before he felt his head hit the ground.

Date: March 27th, 2170

Location: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

Carefully holding an icepack to the left side of his head, Parker listened as Weigand summarized the results of the fight. "We lost nine men overall, five to the fire, four to native arrows. Maybe two-dozen more are wounded, we're transferring them up to the Dreamfor care, but the medics assure them that most will make it."

"And the natives?" Thomes spoke up, her face haggered. She had been awoken in the middle of the night by the reports of battle and had flown down immediately.

"We killed eleven of their banshee riders, but as for the jungle, we can only guess. They took their dead back with them, but there was quite a bit of blood in the area. Our estimate is at least twenty or thirty killed or wounded."

Parker's eyebrows rose, "The blue monkey's clans aren't all that big. Those are crippling numbers."

The Oberst's teeth showed, "Yes, they are. Their Molotov's were a surprise, probably something that Sully taught them to make, but we're pretty sure that this was intended to be a raid, something to hamper and hurt us. I don't think they were expecting to find us already dug in, and judging from the amount of arrows they bounced off the bunkers, they had no idea how to deal with it."

"Sully has definitely been training them though." Jones spoke up, his right arm covered in bandages from burns he'd sustained helping to fight the fires. He had refused to accompany the other wounded to the Dream, instead opting to remain behind for the briefing and head up with Thomes after. Parker thought his tone of voice was.. odd. "They were staying back as far as they could and still expect to hit us, and they scattered as soon as we launched the star shells. Compare to the mass-charges when they fought Sec-Ops at the Tree of Souls, they've definitely improved."

He carefully responded at this, "Yeah, the savages are better fighters now, but losing forty people? I mean, they're not like us, where the soldiers fight and that's it. That's forty less people hunting for them, even if some of them are only wounded. And even if it is Sully whose been training them, and if he's still alive, he's probably only trained his girlfriend's people."

Thomes picked up on his train of thought, "And they've just lost a large number of what are basically combat veterans."

"Meaning that they're going to have to try and call on other tribes for help, but those other tribes will fight like they did before." Weigand nodded slowly as he spoke.

The American captain snarled, "We'll murder them if they charge us."

Everyone blinked and stared at the normally placid engineer.

"I watched three of my men burn to death because of those things. Mercy isn't going to be high on our list when we meet again."he continued, voice still carrying a thick undertone of rage. He held up his unburned hand at the warning look Weigand was giving him, "We're not going to go rogue or berserk or anything sir, but any thoughts of feeling sorry for the blue-skins died when my men saw their friends screaming faces."

Parker felt his stomach rise again and forced it back down, the memories of the night far too clear for his liking. I used to have that stash of whiskey in my office. Dammit, I should have brought some whiskey. Being drunk would definitely be a boon right now.

Unfortunately, booze did not simply appear, and the meeting continued on. Is it a meeting? Or a briefing? Or a debriefing? Post-battle summit? Dammit, need to learn those military terms.

"Our primary concern now that the wounded have been cared for must be the repair of the buildings lost to the fire and to the eastern bunkers." Weigand continued to speak while Parker mused on his limited grasp of military terminology.

"The bunkers themselves are fine, we just replacement emplacement guns for the ones that were melted." Jones spoke up, "The bigger problem will be the lost pre-fabs, we don't have spares. We'll have to camp it, and speed up our construction of the main buildings as best we can. If we conscript some of the miners from the gravel mine, I think we can get the Ops center and apartments done by next week, but it'll cost us. It'll mean less concrete overall, and the armory block and refinery foundation will be delayed."

"Keine andere Wahl" The Oberstreplied, "We need those buildings, especially the ops center, active as soon as possible. Administrator, I need your best mining crews assigned to the gravel mine, we need to keep the production up as best we can."

"What about the natives though?" he pressed, "I mean, beaten or not they could still try and attack the mines, they're not as well defended as here."

"I'm going to give Kozlov all but one of our AMP teams," the older man reassured him. "And we'll have three Samsons on stand-by at all times."

Frowning, then nodding, Parker assented. "What about that call from the Avatar team, did Patel call back this morning?"

"Yes, but we were quite busy at the time, and I informed him that I would contact him on the same frequency on the 30th. He was less than happy at having to wait, and that I refused to give him details about the battle" Weigand responded, "I did tell him that we were a United Nations Expeditionary force working with the RDA's veteran mining team to ensure the supply of unobtanium to home. He didn't seem as surprised as I would have thought at that."

Shaking his head, Parker spoke "Patel was always the brains behind the Avatar team. He didn't let his emotions run wild like Augustine and her cronies did. Always was prepared, always had a response. Working with him was always more efficient than going through Augustine when I could arrange it."

The German's eyes narrowed, "I wonder what his angle is here... and how he survived so long without an Avatar..." he murmured, "We'll find out in a few days. As it is, we need to begin planning funerary services."

Date: March 28th, 2170

Location: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A system

They laid the dead to rest the next day. Nine piles of cut deadwood had been carefully arranged, then soaked in ignition fluids. The bodies were carefully positioned atop them, the flags of their home nations covering them. Four star spangled banners, four maple leaves, and a single Russian tricolor fluttered slightly.

Everyone who wasn't on active duty was present. Weigand had finished speaking, and a bagpipe played a mournful tune from inside on of the remaining prefabs, the speakers carrying the sound of the player within. A slow drum beat accompanied it, and one of the female soldiers was singing in what sounded like Welsh as the biers were carefully lit aflame.

The flames rose instantly, consuming wood and flesh and cloth. Parker stared at the flames, remaining as Weigand dismissed everyone. Several other soldiers remained, and he knew they would stay for the hours required for the fire to slowly die down, waiting to collect the ashes.

The Oberst jogged his elbow lightly, and frowning, Parker turned and followed him. The haunting melody and the sight of fire still lingering with him.

He followed the older man into the cafeteria Valkyrie, which had already been nicknamed 'Valhalla' by Adler and his Germans, and the two sat in silence. The three captains were also present, Kozlov and Adler sitting across from Jones.

Glancing at his superior, Kozlov rose and took two more glasses from the rack, pulled a bottle of clear liquid from his pack on the floor, and poured for them.

"Vodka. Real Russian vodka, not that fake stuff." he said as he passed it to them.

Parker grabbed it and downed it immediately. The burn of the alcohol a pleasant distraction from reality. The five sat in silence, drinking occasionally for a quarter of an hour.

"You know," it was the habitually quiet Adler who spoke, "I did not truly believe that this planet was a death world until I came here. It always looked so beautiful in the reports. But everything here loathes us ja? The natives, the birds, the beasts. Even the insects attack us."

He took a drink and spoke, voice rough, "It's only a paradise to those blue-skinned freaks out there, and don't let anyone tell you different. This is a planet that refuses to accept us and always will."

Weigand stared into his own cup, his accent far thicker than normal. "I argued very strongly against bringing any space-borne weapons with, or any weapons of mass destruction. But now.. I still think that those are things that we should be above using, but it would be nice to have one with, as a threat if nothing else."

Jones spoke, "Deterrent. The Avatars would understand, even if the blue-skins wouldn't."

Adler raised his voice again, "And there is still the worry about that animal attack that happened to Quaritch. What the hell caused that, and could it happen again? We have some heavy weapons to deal with Thanators or Hammerheads, but if we're attacked by a stampede of them?"

"That's what the trenches and bunkers are for," his American companion assured him, "And the interior buildings will have the 40mm cannons with AP rounds to deal with that."

Parker interrupted them, "But what if we have to attack? Can you bring those bigger guns with?"

The silence and glances weren't reassuring. "We have some missile pods that we can equip the Samsons with, as long as we don't go into the Vortex we can use those."

He frowned, "Why can't you just mount the bigger guns on the Samsons?"

"Recoil," Adler replied, shaking his head, "Would be almost impossible to aim and could shake it apart it we mounted it on the side."

Parker frowned a bit more, thinking, "Why not a Valkyrie? I mean, some of them are going to be left behind anyway for us to use in deuterium harvesting right?"

"No." Adler shook his head, but frowned as he did so.

"Why not? I mean, don't some armies on Ear-, I mean Terra, mount those big guns on cargo planes?" He vaguely remembered such a concept from one of Quaritch's drunken ramblings about 'the good old days'.

Jones suddenly laughed, "Turn a Valkyrie into a gunship! Why the fuck didn't we think of that before." The previously taciturn man leaped to his feet, a bit unsteadily. "I'm going to go draw up plans right now!" He moved quickly, and quite wobbly, up and out of the ship. The four other men glanced at each other, before Adler and Kozlov quickly rose to follow him.

Weigand chuckled and finished off his drink, "Direction. Good."

Parker blinked at him, "Direction?"

The other man nodded, "Base is hurting from the fight, and the weeks of constant attacks by the fauna. Everyone here wanted to come, be heroes for humanity. All are soldiers, but deep down didn't really think that we'd be dying as we did it. The media's presentation of Pandora as a garden paradise is something most expected, even after hearing the reports from your Sec-Ops. It has been jarring to them."

He winced. "Yeah. The first miners here had something similar happen. It was before my time, but there were all kinds of problems, and we lost a lot of people, before we regained our feet."

The Oberst rose, "Direction, purpose of action is what we need now.. You gave that to Jones, was a good thing to do even if you didn't realize you were doing it. Thomes has had a few ideas too, though hers are a bit more play than work. Both are good though. Come, you should sleep. Tomorrow and it's perils will come too soon."

Next Chapter 15: Forlorn Hope

And here's the battle and the aftermath at Tartarus. I liked doing the fight from a non-combatants point of view, hope you enjoy Selfridge's reaction to being in the middle of a merciless battle. Next up will be Max trying to get everyone to sit down and talk like civilized beings instead of trying to murder one another, I'll let you guess how that's going to go.

Review review, a thousand times review!