I don't own Avatar, nor am I am making money on this. Which is a shame.
Chapter 28: Morning Star
Date: 04:00, May 25th, 2170
Location Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System
The sonic screams of the alarm system awoke him. The ululating wail tore through the base as his body tumbled out of bed in surprise.
Shaking his head violently to clear the ringing in his ears, he rose and dressed as rapidly as he could. His stomach churned as he reached for his polo shirt and tie. He did not realize how badly his hands were shaking until he tried to fasten his tie and found that the hands simply could not remain still enough to complete the process.
Calm down Parker, calm down. He repeated, mantra-style, to himself, closing his eyes, You're not going to die here. You're not going to die. The blue-skins will freak when they hit our defenses, pull-back, and they'll listen to reason.
He continued to repeat it to himself, over and over, almost believing it, until his limbs ceased shaking. Wrapping up the ordeal of getting dressed, he opened his door, took a breath, and hurled himself into the crowded hallway. The noise was even worse here, the steady klaxon of the alarm combining with the incoherent shouting of dozens of people, all trying to force their way through the corridors to get to their posts. With no physical virtues to speak of, it was all he could do to push his way into the living mass and move with the crowd in the direction of the Ops-Center. The tension in the air was thick enough that he could almost touch it as he moved through the underground hallway into their headquarters building.
Ducking out of the packed hallway and onto the staircase leading to the Ops-Center, he enjoyed the cooler air for a few brief moments before moving on. Staggering into the colony's nerve center, he saw that the Oberst was already present, along with Jones, both staring at the main holographic table.
A quick glance at the three-dimensional images told him what he had already guessed. The natives were moving.
"Its started then," he whispered, voice hoarse. His nausea came back full force, and he swiftly pushed his hands into his pockets to hide the fact that they had begun to shake again.
"Ja." Weigand stated, staring at the image. All four massive heat blips had begun to move, slowly and ponderously, away from their giant tree homes towards the human base camp located almost equidistant between them. "Estimated time until contact Captain?"
Captain Jones manipulated the screen for a moment, "The southern prong will hit us first, looks like a midnight arrival time on the twenty-seventh. The eastern group will arrive an hour or so after that, and both northern groups will hit our defenses just after dawn on the twenty-eighth."
"Communications, get Kapitaen Thomes on the line if you please." the Oberst barked.
"Yes sir," a moments pause, "Channel is open sir."
"Kaptiaen, what is the status of your project?"
The fiery captain responded immediately, "The Cherry Blossom is loaded and ready to go, just give the word."
"Zehr gut. Have her on stand-by, I will contact you as soon as Adler is in position. Contact Patel and inform him what has developed."
"Yessir."
He reached out and carefully manipulated the image as Weigand got the Hauptmann on the line. A small floating panel refreshed itself as he watched, updating the estimated number of hostiles.
Eight thousand, five hundred, plus or minus five hundred. Intellectually, he knew that it could be worse. Instinctively, the small floating numbers scared the hell out of him, he felt his hands shaking worse and it was taking a conscious effort on his part to not vomit.
Weigand continued speaking on the communications channel as he attempted to compose himself, "Adler, get Brunhilde and your squadron online and report back to me once you are en route to your attack coordinates." The Oberst turned to him, "Administrator, make sure you're men are at their postings."
He nodded jerkily, grabbed an earpiece and activated it, "All mining teams, report to your combat positions. The blue-skins are moving. Follow the orders of the local soldiers and get into position." His voice, thankfully, managed to remain steady, even as his body fought to betray him.
Listening absentmindedly to the chaos around him, he continued to gaze at the massive image before him. Shuddering, he reached out and changed the display over to a view of Tartarus. Though not terribly reassuring by itself, the image did much to calm his nerves. Not having to see the masses of savages allowed him to push them, mostly, out of his mind. Carefully taking his right hand out of his pocket, he rested it on the holotable. Though a bit pale, it was no longer shaking.
Men and machines were moving rapidly outside. The Samson squadron's elevated landing pad was being swarmed by men as they loaded bullets, missiles, and fuel into their metal birds. Brunhilde loomed in the background, crewmen and engineers checking and rechecking her external plating even as AMP suits hauled crates of forty-millimeter ammunition into her belly. A stream of men rushed out of the apartment complex and into the exterior trench lines and bunkers.
Another mere button flick changed the view to that of the unobtanium mine. The mining equipment was in the process of being dragged back to the main base, while the remainder of the mining crews were sprinting into the bunker complex.
That had been a point of contention between himself and Weigand. Both had agreed that the mining equipment had to be pulled back into the base. It was, after all, the reason they were there. Parker, however, had wanted to bring his mining teams back as well, arguing that they would be of more use in the main base as a infantry contingent to their AMP suit reserves.. The Oberst wanted them to stay at the mining sites and increase the manpower available at the bunker complexes, arguing that they could return to the base with Kozlov's infantry if it was clear that the complexes were being bypassed. An hour long argument had ended when Weigand had pulled rank and ordered that they stay.
I still think they'd be more useful here, he thought bitterly. He was not the military expert present, true, but they were still his people and being overruled rankled.
His internal monologue was disrupted by a dull roar as Brunhilde began to ponderously rise into the air, her Samson escorts rising from their pads in the predawn light. There was not any cheering going on outside, at least, none that he could see. Everyone paused what they were doing and turned to watch the German assault force lift off, many of the soldiers took the time to salute them, but there was no happiness visible.
The contrast hit him sharply, memories of cheering mercenaries flashed through his mind. Would still have cheered if they had realized, truly, that the natives could fight back? Somehow, he thought so. They had all been mercenaries, fighting for pay. For fame, glory, money. A few were along just for the adventure, others because of misplaced loyalty to the company. Only Quaritch had fully seemed to realize the long term threat the natives possessed, but his zealot like attitude had worsened the situation, instead of aiding in them.
These people know the stakes. They know they could die. That they're friends could die. He mused to himself. They're here, because they want to be here. Because to them, they're dying to save humanity, not a paycheck.
Weigand had taken control of the holotable, and brought up a map showing Tartarus at the top, and the southern blue-skin force at the bottom. Seventeen contacts in dark green had left the base and were slowly winging in that direction. Even at top speed, it would be a long flight, followed by a pitched battle, followed by yet another long flight. He did not envy the crew of those ships at all.
"Valkyrie Squadron en route to assault coordinates. Estimate four hours until we are in position." Hauptmann Alder's voice came across the speakers.
"Good flight Valkyrie One," Weigand returned, "The Cherry Blossom will be awaiting your signal to launch from the Dream."
"Roger that Control. Will contact when I intend to engage. Over and out."
Date: 07:30, September 25th, 2170
Location: Pandoran Orbit, Alpha Centauri A System
The Explorer's Dream shuddered lightly as the Cherry Blossom detached from its mother. The unmanned shuttle slowly drifted away, tiny jets firing, rotating to bring the heat tiled bottom towards the planet. Had any humans been present on board, they would have been able to hear the hull groaning from the overburden as it began to accelerate from the moon's gravity and the shuttle's own slight engine thrust.
She tore through the atmosphere, banking and slowing only enough to stop from tearing herself apart. She needed speed for her mission. She needed to be as traveling faster than she had ever gone before, faster than she had ever been designed to go. The heat began to dissipate as she leveled off in the upper-atmosphere, still thousands of miles from her target.
Na'vi upon a continent far way from where the future of their world was being decided, stared at the sky in awe as something unfathomable to them hurdled across the sky, her roaring fusion engines leaving a great trail behind her, scattering energy and radiation into the atmosphere.
The hull began to scream as she began her final swan dive, her fusion engine cutting out and locking down to minimize the radiation trail as she roared over Tartarus, her destination near.
To the humans in their flying machines, prepared to defend what they believed to be their species last hope, she appeared to be little more than a white blur streaking overhead.
To the Na'vi of sixteen clans, riding and flying in a singular mass formation towards the insane beasts that dared to harm their goddess, she was a flicker of light, a moment of confusion, and then a roar of sound and fire.
Location: Valkyrie Squadron Rendezvous Point, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System
The blue-skin formation had been massive. Heat trails tracking a singular wave of them upon the ground even as their eyes could see the horde of banshees slowly keeping pace with their ground-pounding brethren.
The banshee riders had just begun to wing forwards them, seeing the puny human force waiting to challenge their numerous might, when the Cherry Blossom flashed overhead, and then impacted. How many Na'vi died in that single moment, Adler had no idea, but he knew it was more than had died in the entire Battle for the Tree of Souls so many years previously.
Banshees tumbled out of control across the sky as the sonic shock-wave from the Valkyrie's passing roared through them. The thermal scanners flashed into white noise and uselessness as their suicidal ship slammed herself into the heart of the native's formation. The explosion was massive, even from a distance. Though the ground absorbed much of the kinetic energy caused by the impact, more than enough remained to shred the native force.
"Kampfgruppe, Angriff." he transmitted. "Avoid the crash site, radiation could be heavy in that area."
A chorus of acknowledgments came across the channel, and Brunhilde began a long bank around the still massive smoke cloud. A single Samson wingpair remained in position around her, the remainder slowing sweeping into wide arcs, launchers flashing as seeking missiles tore into the air after their prey.
The gunship shuddered beneath his feet as her main battery began to speak, the already destroyed jungle vanishing behind explosions as the rounds tore into the survivors. The gun cams painted an image of hell below. The Cherry Blossom had disintegrated on impact, her scrap metal cargo hurling through the air in its molten state had set fire to the entire area.
What few blue-skins had apparently survived the explosion were hopelessly lost and confused, bereft of leadership, and were being slaughtered en masse in both the air and on the ground, from far beyond their primitive weapons' reach. Several tried to group together to swarm the Samsons, and the Samsons dove through the thick atmosphere, using their heavy weight to increase their speed and fall back, just in time for a different wingpair to send missiles hurling into the convenient group of natives.
Only once did they ever try to rush Brunhilde, her numerous machine gun bunkers and paired escorts had massacred the few that made it in close.
The dire-horse riders on the ground had no hope, no way to fight back. Any attempt by them to gather was crushed by Brunhilde's massive guns.
In less than an hour of roaring gunfire and spiraling missiles, it was over.
Date: 0845, September 25th, 2170
Location: Ops-Center, Tartarus, Alpha Centauri A System
"Valkyrie One reporting," Adler's voice came across the base's comm system, "Report near-total destruction of the southern prong. All native survivors routed from area. Returning home. Heavy equipment expenditure, but no losses."
A brief cheer was heard across the base at the last. Everyone was sick of losing friends, and it was good to strike a hearty blow against their enemy.
"Confirmed Valkyrie One, return home. Control out." Weigand nodded, and settled back into a nearby chair.
Parker sighed heavily, heart beating a bit faster now. They did it. It actually worked. That's a quarter of the native's dead, who knows how many of their tribes ruined for generations. But there's still more coming.. and they don't have radios, they won't know what happened to the others.
He frowned a bit at that, "Weigand, should we have Patel tell the natives what happened to their war-buddies? I mean, wouldn't that help showing them that we're not to be messed with, at least?"
The old German glanced over at him and closed his eyes, for all appearances, relaxing. "I have been thinking on that very subject." the other replied quietly, after a moment, "And have yet to decide. On one hand, it does prove our strength, that it will cost them beyond what they can believe to drive us away. On the other, it could also alienate Patel or possibly enrage the natives."
He continued frowning, thinking. "So... how about we tell them, but not now. We tell Patel to contact us if negotiations are failing, and we tell him then? We only do it if we have to."
Weigand remained still in his relaxed pose for well over a minute before slowly nodding, "That is an agreeable compromise Administrator. Send it to Thomes, I have her in charge of liaising with Patel at the moment. For now, I wish to relax, for soon I fear there will be even less time for us to simply sit still for even short moments like these."
Several quick flicks brought his communications panel up, and he had a memo uploaded and transmitted to the Dream within a minute.
He let out an explosive sigh and made his way to his office, closing the door, locking it, and collapsing into his chair.
Less than five hours after I woke up, and I'm already exhausted, all from worrying over something happening hundreds of kilometers away. He sighed again, opened one of his desk drawers, and removed the bottle of vodka he'd been given by his mining football team after they had won their championship game.
To be honest, he preferred gin or whiskey to vodka, but beggars couldn't be choosers. He poured himself a glass and sipped it slowly, allowing the Russian alcohol to burn down his throat.
In a little less than forty-eight hours, this will be a battlefield. He marveled to himself as he poured more vodka, We'll be fighting for our lives against a race of stupid tree-hugging hippies who don't understand why we're here, or care that our species could very well die if we don't get it.
He stared out his office window at Weigand, still slumped over in his chair.
We still have tonight though. Perhaps..perhaps one last football game tonight, we can drag down Thomes and her team for one last grudge match, a last night of frivolity before we all get killed. Would be good for everyone's morale, remind them that what they're here for.
Slightly hysterical laughter erupted from his throat as he stood up and headed back into the Ops-Center. Something told him the Oberst would approve of the idea. He was always a big softie when it came to cheering his men and women up.
It would be good for him as well. He still owed Thomes another defeat.
A few luckless sentries remained in position around the main base and within the bunker complexes. Everyone else was crowded into the 'Rust Bowl'. Weigand had worked it out so that several volunteers would head out and take the sentries places as the game wore on.
Everyone wanted to be there, for their last chance at being carefree and human before the coming maelstrom.
Though he had grown interested in the sport after the first several games, this was the first time he found himself truly engaged in the match. Rising and shouting his mining crewmen onwards when they had the ball and were pushing into their opponent's half, heckling Thomes' people when they had the ball.
It was an odd way to party before a battle. There was no alcohol, no wild partying. There was just... the game. No betting on the outcome even, just cheering and laughing. Nothing else mattered but the men and women running across the dirt field, kicking a small back and white ball to and fro.
Adler and his squadron had been given the place of honor near the center field, all of them either standing on or leaning against the gutted Dragon gunship. They were the only ones who would not have to take their turns at the sentry posts, they had done enough for today, and tomorrow night they would be launching for what, for many of them, would be their last fight.
He threw his hands up when one of his women managed to bend the ball around the keeper's hands and into the net, laughing with glee at the look on Thomes' face.
But for now.. nothing else matters. Nothing but small field, the pride of the players, and the roar of the crowd.
Next up is Chapter 29: A God's Wrath
Yea, so... this chapter was actually done Friday morning, but I kinda... ended up reading TvTropes all day and forgot to post it before I got to work. Sorry about that guys and girls.
In any case, here is the beginning of Act IV and the start of the battle. Hope you all enjoy it. Expect this to be the standard chapter length for this Act, I really do enjoy going into detail in the combat situations.
Please, please, please, PLEASE REVIEW!