I don't own Avatar, though I believe that most of us apes are smart enough to realize that.

Chapter 36: Falling Darkness

Date: 09:45, June 1st, 2170

Location: Omaticaya Kelutral, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

The intense quiet was unnatural in the place of life. No ikran roared and played overhead. The pali were missing. The children clutched silently to their parents, who themselves were weeping as they stared at the few who had returned. So few...the Omaticaya would be lucky to survive as a clan without merging with another to boost their numbers. So many lay dead now, slain in the massive battle.

Max was working frantically to stop anymore from joining their kin in Eywa's embrace. He was not an expert surgeon or doctor, but he knew enough to be able to help, and so he had immediately gone to work.

They had managed to patch up many of the wounded warriors, Norm, John, and himself all rushing about, directing the aid, working with the healers.

But many...too many, were simply beyond help.

He started down, heart like a lead weight, as he watched Mo'at slowly close Miguel's eyes. John bowed his head, openly crying, face twisted in pain at the loss of his best friend.

None of the Avatars who had gone had made it back. Before he had lost consciousness for the last time, Miguel revealed that Dana had been one of those brave souls to board the converted Valkyrie, and had perished aboard her when the shuttle slammed into the ground.

Stepping back, staggering slightly, he turned to view the last remaining grievous case. Neytiri still lay unmoving, Jake clutching desperately at her hand, Tsu'tey standing unmoving, stunned behind him. Both were beyond tears, praying quietly, with a fervent tone much unlike themselves.

Sometimes he hated being a scientist, a doctor. Hated knowing when prayer was useless.

He shuffled his way over, only now realizing how tired he was.

"Jake... she's not going to wake up." he spoke quietly.

The Olo'eyktan and Avatar bowed his head further, not saying a thing.

Within his mind, he reviewed her injuries, Seven broken ribs. Broken pelvis. Broken collarbone. Significant internal damage to her organs. Severe lacerations on her back from skidding across the asphalt when she landed. She'll probably never have control of her tail again, assuming she ever wakes up. Hell, it was a miracle she survived the trip back here.

He remembered breaking the news to Jake first, watching all hope drain from his friend's face. Remembered seeing him conferring very quietly with Mo'at, then the pair of them speaking with Tsu'tey. The proud young warrior losing his false age, begging his father and grandmother to say that it was not true, that his mother would be fine.

Norm staggered slowly over to him, joining his quiet staring at the scene before them.

"Katrina says we have a call." he said after a moment, "Captain Thomes."

He blinked blearily, "What's she want? It's all over, isn't it?"

The lankier man shrugged, "Pretty sure it is. Maybe she wants to gloat."

"Didn't think she was that much of a bitch."

Norm sniggered slightly, and the two made their way over to the Samson.

The Na'vi were giving it a wide berth, shooting it uneasy glances as they moved around it, but had stifled any complaints after watching them struggle to save the lives of their warriors.

Their friend was already waiting, cockpit door open, her hand flicking the microphones on as soon as they approached.

"All right Captain, he's here." she spoke quietly. She had no real medical training, her original specialty being Pandoran geology, but she had made several runs back to their camp for what medical supplies they still had, and so she was as short on sleep as any of them.

"I don't know how to say this, except to get straight to the point," the other woman's voice was uncomfortable, "but do you need any help?"

The three of them stared blankly at each other for a moment.

Or more than a moment, for Thomes spoke up again some time later, "Are you still there?"

"Yes... Yes, we're here. And what?" Max managed to get out.

A sigh. "To put it bluntly, we don't really have any resources to spare. At all. But we're willing to give what we can to the Omat-whatever in the interest of.. shoring up relations after the recent... unpleasantness."

"What's the catch?" Norm demanded.

"No catch." the reply came easily. Much too easily.

"Liar." Max shot back, enunciating each word sharply,"What. Is. The. Catch?"

Another sigh, a deeper one. "Remembrance. We're willing to help them despite the fact that they just attacked us, and despite the fact that we need those supplies badly for our own wounded."

A flash of anger shot through him, "You're bribing them, with the lives of their own wounded!"

Her voice turned angry in turn, "Would you rather we not help? We don't like them. They don't like us. But we did have orders to be friendly, those orders still stand, and we're going to follow those orders even now. Do you want they help or can I get back to saving human lives?"

"Fine." he snapped, "We'll take it, we need it, even if it's from a supremacist."

Her voice extremely frosty now, Thomes managed to grind out, "Your Samson. 1330 hours, today. No Avatars, no natives. We'll have medicinal supplies for you, and you will also be bringing a negotiator and his bodyguard with. They will speak to Sully or whoever is in charge about what happened, and what's going to happen. That's the deal. You show up late, it's off."

The radio clicked.

"What was that about?" a voice spoke from directly behind him, and all three humans jumped, spinning around to see Mo'at standing behind them.

He sighed, "The humans have offered some of their medicine to help treat the wounded. They also say they're sending a negotiator over to talk to whoever is in charge here."

Brilliant gold eyes narrowed, "Why would they aid us?" she hissed, "After the destruction they wrought?"

"Orders." he shrugged, "Thomes definitely hates you, us. Trust me, working with their old leader was much easier. But the leaders back on our planet told her, like they told him, to be friendly, so she is, as much as she doesn't want to."

Ears flicked back in confusion, she shook her head, "Tawtute. Why accept her aid then, what if she lies?"

Norm shook his head, sighing, "As much as I hate to admit it, we could use the aid. A lot of the injuries we patched up are bad, and many of the wounded could still die. Human, tawtute, medicine could help."

The Tsahik seemed to process this, "Could they help my daughter? Could their.. science.. save Neytiri?"

They glanced at each other. "Maybe. Her injuries are severe, even by their... our... standards. They also said they were sending wounded up to their.. home among the stars."

"Could they save her there?" desperation had entered her voice, and all three humans winced, glancing at the still form and the man clutching desperately to it.

"Maybe." Katrina said finally, "But they won't want to. It'll be a very hard sell, and there will be many wounded warriors there, none of whom would be glad to see a Na'vi being healed."

"But their doktors, they would heal her, if we could bring her there?"

Max nodded slowly, "Probably. Human healers swear an oath to harm no living thing, I'm pretty sure they would try to, at least. But Mo'at," he shook his head, regarding her seriously, "Traveling there would be very dangerous for her. She might not survive the trip, much less be able to be healed there."

The elderly matron bowed her head, "Eywa has done all that she can, and any warrior so grievously injured should be sent to her loving embrace... but I am not yet prepared to watch my last child die. Perhaps the selfishness of the tawtute has infected me," tears began to spill once more, "But I do not want to watch her breath her last. Promise the tawtute whatever you wish, but please.. ask them to save Neytiri."

"We'll do what we can Mo'at," Max touched the back of her hand lightly, "I swear."

I failed to stop the war. To stop all this insanity. But by God, by Eywa, by whatever deity watches over us all, I will do this.

"Katrina.. spin her up, we're on a timetable."

Date: 13:25, June 1st, 2170

Location: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System

Parker held up a hand as the battered Samson roared in, grimacing at the beating wind. Kozlov stood next to him, with a mound of boxes containing basic medical supplies situated behind them.

He sighed, reaching down to straighten his shirt. He knew he was fidgeting, but it was hard to stop the impulse.

Goddammit. I did not want to do this. Remembering her smirk after Thomes had informed him of what he was doing, his mood soured further, Bitch. She may technically have a point, but she's still sore about Brunhilde and is still taking it out on me.

Patel and a woman he vaguely recognized were in the main cabin, Spellman was manning the single swivel mounted gun.

He waved a light greeting that was returned by a glare, "You are the negotiator?" the taller man spat.

Ruthlessly crushing the irritation down at the scientist's tone, he nodded amicably, "That's right. As the leader of the civilians here, handling negotiations is part of my job description."

Patel, clambering out of the Samson, did not look thrilled to see him either.

"Dr. Patel," he greeted, gesturing to Kozlov, "This is Kapitän Kozlov, in charge of our 3rd Company, Kampfgruppe Bär, and will be my bodyguard during this.. expedition."

The scientist and doctor seemed to take that in before nodding, "Are those the supplies?"

Turning and nodding, he resumed, "Yes. We can spare a few more, but we're limited by our selection of what works on Na'vi biology."

A quick nod, "Let's get them loaded then. What time is your Valkyrie due back?"

He blinked at the rapid acquiescence and change in topic. Why on earth does he want to know that? Warnings from Thomes and Kozlov about telling them too much flashed through his mind. "That would fall under military information, something that you don't really need to know."

Patel grimaced, "We do need to know actually. The daughter of the Tsahik of the Omaticaya was badly wounded during the fighting, her injuries are far too severe for us to treat."

I don't like where this is going. "So.. you want us to treat her? We're already stretching our 'niceness' quota for the year just with this, much less bringing some native chick up to the Dream for treatment."

A wave of the others hand, "I know, and I wouldn't be asking if there was another way, but she's going to die if you don't. Hell, she might die anyway. Parker," the shorter man stared levelly at him, "I know you all aren't doing this for pity's sake, or because you truly care about their lives at all. But please man. She's got a kid, a young one." a pleading tone entered his voice, "I'm not asking to send them all up for treatment, just her. They're willing to bend over backwards for you if you do, willing to grovel at your feet even."

That took him aback somewhat. His memory played a bad clip in his mind's eye, a burning tree, screaming natives fleeing into a jungle.

Dammit. He knew Patel was right. They were doing it because of the advantage, the leverage, it would give them. After that battle, none of the humans wanted anything to do with the natives that had been trying to exterminate them. Actively helping them had taken a lot of convincing on Thomes' and his parts, before the soldiers and miners had slowly agreed that it was the best course of action.

But from a negotiating standpoint.. if they were that desperate to save the one woman's life.. dammit.

"The medicine should help you keep her stable." he said finally, "I will negotiate with this za-heek of yours, and if I think that it's worth it, in my opinion alone, I'll have the Captain bring the Valkyrie down right at their tree and we'll take her up."

Spellman hotly opened his mouth to say something, but Patel nudged him hard in the side.

"Fine. Let's go, faster we get there, the better."

Nodding, he gestured towards a waiting group of his miners, and they raced forwards to begin loading the chopper.

Within ten minutes, they were airborne, winging north.

The scientists had spoken to him as little as possible, gesturing for Kozlov and he to get in the rear seats of the cabin, Spellman remaining on the door-gun.

The flight had passed in silence for a half-hour before the pilot spoke, "So. Selfridge. Never figured you'd want to come back."

He grimaced, "That would be true."

She glanced back at him, "So why did you? And don't give us any crap about 'helping humanity', some of the UN guys might be here for that, but you sure as hell aren't."

Shrugging his shoulders, he replied easily, "My options were be hung out to dry with Quaritch, or agree to come back. What do yo think I picked?"

Patel perked up at that, "Is that how they explained it? Pinned it all on him?"

"As well as Augustine and Sully." he nodded, "The two of them with failing utterly to find a diplomatic solution, going native instead, and Quaritch with over-reacting to the situation."

The scientist seemed to process that, "That's a lie." he said finally, "But a believable one. Didn't our message get there?"

"It got there all right. Media whipped it into a good sized avalanche against the RDA and against the expedition. It had a couple of problems though. The various governments and other corps were already tearing into the RDA as best they could, so your main blame target was already getting punished. On top of that, you weren't there to argue your points, and the public has a short attention span." another shrug, "And it isn't strictly a lie, there's plenty of truth in there. You hippies failed utterly at your mission, which was to find a diplomatic solution, and Quaritch did overreact to an already bad situation."

Spellman's leaned back from his position on the gun, evidently he had been listening, "I can get that the RDA and UN could make that believable, but our message! We had everything in there that you bastards had done, all the atrocities, how could people just ignore that!"

Kozlov broke his silence, "Quite easily, Mr. Spellman. It is human nature to care more about human lives at home than they care about the lives of a few hundred natives six light years away."

The rest of the flight passed in a sullen silence, and nearly an hour after all talk had ceased, they arrived at the massive tree.

Numerous blue-skins were moving around, backing warily away as the Samson slowly settled into a landing. An Avatar, easily recognizable by his clothes, started shouting and several reluctantly advanced, picking up the crates containing bandages and medicines, and moving them towards the entrance of their village.

Gulping quietly, he slowly followed the scientists outside. He had never liked being around Avatars, having to crane his neck to look up at their faces, not to mention their intimidating size.

Although, at least the Avatars back at Hell's Gate had not looked like they were measuring him for a coffin. Chills ran down his back, and he felt himself breaking into a cold sweat.

The Russian emerged and stood next to him, glancing about, settling his hands easily onto his rifle.

The Avatar shouted again, and the natives slowly resumed unpacking the chopper.

Patel had walked over to an elderly looking woman, bedecked in beads and waring some kind of cloth over her chest. Noticing Parker's attention, he waved him over.

Steeling himself, he walked in what he hoped was a confident fashion, ignoring the continued glares of the locals, and nodded up at her when he arrived.

"I'm Parker Selfridge, civilian administrator of the Tartarus colony, here to negotiate with the leader of this tribe."

The matriarch considered him for a moment before replying in accented English, "I am Mo'at, the Tsahik of this tribe. Our Olo'eyktan is currently injured, and so I shall speak with you."

He blew out his breath and nodded, composing what he had to say in his head, "All right. Our goal is here is to mine unobtanium. We don't want to bother you any more than we have to, and our fondest wish is to be left alone while we work. We're willing to reclaim the areas once we're done mining, restore nature to them." he shook his head lightly, "But, to put it bluntly, that was before you decided that wasn't good enough and tried to massacre us. We're still willing to reclaim the lands, but we're not going to tolerate any interference on your part about what we're doing."

The woman gazed at him for a long time before responding, "I cannot speak for all the people, nor for Eywa herself. Has Max'patel spoken to you of our one request?"

He glanced around. There were a lot of wounded, and many more that seemed to be dead. His eyes flicked over a still woman and a pair of men, one old and one young, kneeling beside her. He blinked.

Sully? Ah. He nodded mentally, It makes more sense now. He married that princess or whatever of theirs, this must be her mother. Both tribe leaders want her healed, willing to accept whatever we want for it.

"He did. Here is our terms: you leave us alone." he felt several of the blue-skins glares increase slightly, and he gulped again before resuming, "We're going to mine, and you're going to leave us be, regardless of how many trees we cut down. We'll avoid your hometree, and the trees of the other tribes, as to avoid more fighting, but we might end up nearby at times, and we don't want any hostilities, if there are any attacks, any at all, we'll strike down anything that came after us."

"Your.. leader of warriors has already made that quite clear." the woman, Mo'at, said slowly, a touch of anger coloring her voice.

"I'm sure she did." he felt his voice turn dry. At least I'm not the only one on the receiving end.

"But you will save my daughter?" Mo'at pressed.

He shrugged, "I can't guarantee she'll survive the trip up to the space station, or that we'll be able to. But we can try. Do you agree then?"

Another very long pause, "What of our old home, the one your kind destroyed so many years ago?"

"Eventually, we'll probably mine that area." he felt the anger rising around him, "But we will of course, return any bodies we find to you for proper services, of course." he hastened to add, "We admit that what happened before was... a mistake, and will be willing to do that much for you."

A quick conversation broke out in the native's language. He had no idea what was being said, but it sounded hostile towards his well-being. Nikolai evidently agreed, and he stepped closer to him, casually resting a hand on his weapon's safety, ready to start firing if he had to.

The jabbering continued, with Patel or Spellman chiming in every so often, until a deeper voice shouted something.

Everyone shut up, and turned to see Sully walking slowly towards them. The former marine regarded him gravely.

"Selfrdige. Never thought I'd see you again."

"I've been getting that a lot." he quipped, trying to hold back his fear, and failing miserably.

The former Avatar stared at him for a long time, "You're a corporate tool, but you always did what you said you would. The mining teams always spoke highly of you, and you didn't seem happy about what happened to our former kelutral."

He guessed that meant the big damn tree Quaritch had torched.

"We agree." Renewed shouting broke out, ceasing only when Sully bellowed something and fixed everyone else with a glare before breaking into a short speech, gesturing at the wounded and dead around them.

Silence slowly settled, the blue-skins looking increasingly uncomfortable as he finished.

Nodding at their expressions, he turned to him again, "Save her. Please."

Guessing that that meant he was not about to be killed, he nodded and quite happily made his way back to the Samson to contact Thomes. She would most definitely not be happy about it, but this was the best chance they had of getting Sully and his tribe out of their hair permanently.

A short while after a brief, shouted argument that he knew he was going to pay for later, the natives began to shout and gesture as the Valkyrie roared down. The pilot carefully steering around the branches of the tree, settling down in the massive clearing around its base.

He had to shout for Sully to hear him over the engines, "You and and her mother can come, no one else! Going to have a hard enough time fitting her into the hospital module without a bunch of you up there!"

The Avatar nodded and shouted in turn to the tribe. Several medics ran down as the loading ramp descended, and he pointed them at the native they were to try and save. Muttering softly to each other, and responding to the glares from the natives in kind, they carefully extended out a Avatar-sized stretcher, and the four of them carefully secured the woman to it before heading back to the shuttle, Sully and Mo'at carefully supervising and moving with them.

He shouted to Patel next, "Need you to take Kozlov back to Tartarus, they have some more supplies for you. I'm heading to orbit with them."

The doctor waved to show that he had heard him, then turned, heading towards their Samson.

Turning towards his own ride, he raced up into the shuttle, not bothering to hide how ecstatic he was to get away from the blue-skins' home.

He settled himself into a seat, securing it as he watched the medics securing the stretcher under the gaze of the Avatar and the tza... tsa... elderly native woman.

An errant thought hit him them, the woman would never have been in zero gravity before. Smiling mentally, he leaned his head back against the bulkhead and listened to the engines shift in pitch as the shuttle began to move.

Next up is Chapter 37: Opposites Repulse

And here's the next chapter for you all. Omaticaya are decimated, and willing to give the humans what they want in exchange for what aid they can offer, even though no one on either side truly likes the other.

Next up, we'll see if the doctors on the dream can save neytiri, how mo'at likes being in space, and if selfridge can convince the humans on board that it's worth trying to save the life of a blue-skin.

Loving the reviews, as always, and extremely surprised yet glad to see the fic on the reccomendations page for Avatar fics on TvTropes, love the website, love that my work is there, so special thanks go out to khaos974 for doing that.

Please, keep reviewing!

Review Responses

Doomsought: I was under the impression that fusion still does produce radioactive tritium as a small by-product, which is still dangerous, just not for nearly as long of a period of time. Could be wrong, been a while since a researched it.

AndreyRus: was planning it since I used neytiri as a punching bag for weigand, but bonus points to you for guessing it ahead of time :).

Darth nylon544: was a chaos player back in the day, using slaanesh as my patron goddess, but the review still amuses me ;).

ParanoidSchizo: glad you liked the choice of music, both are in my writing-inspiration playlist, and played one-right after the other when I was working the chapter, figured they fit perfectly.