XXXVI: Storm the Gate (XXIVI)

Norm knew he should move, knew he should be doing something, but he was nailed to the spot with hot barbs in his heels and heart. He looked on unable to even think as a whole patch of sky turned light blue, centered around an orange and blue cosmic explosion- almost like a rose or orchid, blooming in the very center. It lasted perhaps seconds, as the sky returned to black and the debris hit the atmosphere. Burning light blue as they fell, like rain across a glass sphere. It was beautiful, but also destruction, and Norm knew it was at the cost of life. But… whose? His head dropped back to Jake and Neytiri, or, her body… he had to know- numbly his foot stepped forward, but a voice cut through the haze of heartbeat in his ears. "Please, someone, come!" Mo'at's voice, behind him. She pleaded, sounding very afraid. Why should she? Norm turned his head, but never removed his eyes. What was more important- "Norm, you must come, Sm'th calls, I do not know his words!" Norm felt a worm writhe in his stomach, Smith; Smith could burn in hell, he had to know- "Please I think he is dieing." Mo'at's voice beside his ear. Norm snapped out of it, her hand on his arm.

"Let him!" Norm huffed, he tried to pull away but Mo'at was much larger.

"Do not let my daughter's mistake cause us more sorrow."

Norm whipped his head back, did she know? Norm stared at Mo'at's hardened eyes, whatever it was Smith wanted Mo'at could tell it was important somehow… Norm swallowed and nodded. One last look behind him at Neytiri and Jake still kneeling with heads bowed. Mo'at pulled Norm away, running with her longer stride, forcing Norm to keep up by running flat out. They entered the hanger, turned the corner and flew down the hall. Twists and turns, then a corner more and they were once more back in the room with Mr. Smith. He was lying on a table, restrained but hooked to medical machines which monitored his condition. An ugly bruise engulfed his neck, his skin was blotchy and red, his eyes red rimmed and teeth yellowed. He was blabbering, with a voice that rose and fell like a very sick man fighting for breath. Norm paused, holding his breath to listen as he looked over the machines. His heartbeat was steady, which explained why there was no medical crew already there, but Mo'at didn't know that; he must have- Mr. Smith reached out and grabbed Norm by the arm.

He spoke rapid, something, Latin? Then Mr. Smith laughed. Norm tried to rip his arm away, disgusted, he had only tricked them. "It's just a trick Mo'at, he isn't dying." Norm sneered. Mr. Smith coughed harshly, and continued to try and laugh. A blinding rage Norm had rarely experienced filled him, and he wanted to end the man himself. This was what humanity had become, at its worse, surrounded by all the technology and wonders of a life of luxury and ease… discarded for greed. But it wasn't just that, Mr. Smith wasn't a leader, he was just the lowest of the Order; he was thrown into a world which used him and saw no choice, following orders gladly and scraping every inch of amusement from his own misery inflicted on others as he could. Norm hated the man. "I don't see what's so funny, you don't know it but your ship and the entire Order crap is destroyed. Gone, puff of smoke in space." Norm said as viciously as he could.

Mr. Smith stopped laughing and looked at norm dead center, "Really?" his voice was strong, the corners of his mouth turned, twisted.

Norm felt his face drop, dead sink in his stomach. "What do you mean…?"

"Come on, you don't actually think we'd just sit there like a big target while you did whatever you want and blocked our laser did you?" he coughed harshly, spots of red flecked his lips, and the glass of his mask. "Humans have always had to be one step ahead to survive, intelligence, cruel and sharp- that is our claws. He laid still, looking at the ceiling, then back to Norm with a sickening intensity. When our beam was blocked, we immediately launched. Everything. We landed our entire fleet of drop ships, weaponized drop ships, an hour ago. "

Norm felt his heart hit the bottom of his stomach, "Why're you, telling me thi…"

Mr. Smith couldn't grin any wider, "I just had to see the look on your face."

Norm didn't hear his laughter, even as Mo'at looked from one to the other in confusion. Norm felt like he was thrown against a wall, a firing squad taking aim. He looked to Mo'at, "We have to tell Jake-"

"They're here!" Max burst into the room, "A whole fleet just appeared on Radar, coming in fast!" Norm dashed from the laughter which followed him. Back down the twists and turns, each foot step a heart beat. All three halted abruptly as they reached the outside again, there before the still kneeling Jake and Neytiri, a cloud on the horizon. Black shapes like angry hornets hovering in place. A school of piranha sometimes correcting their course, and each ship would correct for it. The Old Order drop ships, hundreds of them. An armada of ships, but they weren't like Mr. Smith's, they were wider, with what looked like hands pointing forward, each finger a weapon. Elegant, like liquid death machines; each one covered in a myriad of flowing yellow lights, flashing white beams like enraged stars of death. Destroyers every one. Norm felt his mouth grow dry. "Eywa help us…"

…

"Jake, they're coming here, we have to do something!" Max shouted, unheard as Jake slowly lifted his head, watching the approach, doom; Neytiri reached out to him, hands on his arm. Jake looked to her, tears still streaming down his face. "Neytiri…"

Neytiri's face mirrored his own. "My Jake." her voice faltered.

Jake wrapped his arms around her, ignoring the brace and buried himself into her embrace. "Neytiri…" he sobbed, thankful, but beaten to the very last of him. "I don't know what to do Neytiri, they're both gone, we can't call the clans- and even if we could they'd be no match for what's coming. There's no time, no chance."

Neytiri shook her head into him, "Do not speak so, we still must live, we must run." she said in a low whisper.

"I can't. I can barely move…"

Neytiri did not answer.

"What is this?" Mo'at's voice, distant.

Norm turned to look at her, "Drop ships from space, The Old Order landed and-" but she wasn't looking at the cloud before them… she was looking behind them. Norm looked up. "What… the hell? Jake… Jaaake! JAKE!" Jake heard him, but didn't look, couldn't, Neytiri did; she gasped, Jake looked, he gasped too.

Demons.

A sky of fire, dragon wings flapping hard, blazing orange in tribal markings; a whole, flight, of cave Ikran. The entire burning rock clan, "CRY HAVVOOOCK!" Yawne's booming voice splitting the night air, "AND UNLEASH THE DOGS OF WAAAAAAARR!" his voice answered a thousand fold, swallowed in a roar of a thousands fold warriors and Cave Banshees, a burning storm. The ribbon of fire swooped to meet the approaching cloud of stars. Like a spear of pure flame they entered the heart of the hornet cloud. The stars split around the wedge and suddenly the sky erupted in warfare. The popcorn of gunfire, red lines flowing as tracer rounds tried to strike the flames, blasts of orange spheres slamming into dark shapes and creating a blotchy wet explosion like liquid napalm. Screams of the dieing banshees hit by countless bullets, and the whine of engines failing as the cores were melted in molten flame. The forest shook with the force of a hurricane, calm and gentle lights of the plants thrashing in a dizzying effect. A single banshee without markings slowly fell to the ground amid all of the chaos above.

Peyral and Ean'taw, Ean'taw screeched, fitting them all with a single golden eye as it tried to watch the sky as well. "Jake! Neytiri!"

Jake looked up to her, feeling his knees shake. "Peyral?" an explosion just over head sent a burning ship crashing into the fence line, "What the hell is going on?"

Peyral ran to them, helping Jake stand and move inside, looking at the chaos just over their heads, "Yawne has become Oloeytukan of the Nekxtskxe, we planned to gather as many of the fire rocks to bring to your aid but the clan would not allow it unless as a ceremony of war. We tried to make it clear it would only be a show of force, but when we saw the sky flower Yawne declare war on the sky people- I do not think it will be safe for the humans in Hell's Gate, we must keep them out of sight. I will stay with you in case any of the Nekxtskxe try to attack the compound-" the body of a dead banshee and its rider slammed into the ground beside them, forcing them all to the side. "What has happened here?"

Jake gasped in obvious pain, Neytiri answered for him. "P'all and Jin are dead. We believe he destroyed the sky kun'sip but more appeared, that is all we know."

Suddenly Mo'at, Norm, and Max were beside them, Max was bleeding from a head wound, Norm was compressing it, Mo'at was helping to carry him. "Peyral? What the hell is all this!"

"Help." Jake said curtly, "Is Max alright?"

Norm blinked, but nodded, "Uh, uh, yeah, flesh wound but he unconscious-" Another explosion and fire fell like a curtain onto the roof. "HOLY CRAP!"

"Come on get inside, we'll monitor what happening from there." Jake wheezed. Peyral and to a lesser degree Neytiri helped carry Jake as Mo'at and Norm did for Max. The six made their way down twists and turns of metal hallways, tipping as explosions vibrated the very walls and into the central room. Already teams of people where swarming around monitors, talking to each other and generally looking confused.

Norm swallowed as all eyes flew to them, " No time for questions, give us a situation update ah- this would be a lot easier if we could breath our own air, does anybody know the status of the filtration system?"

A woman with short black hair and a lab coat with a headset turned to him, "General repairs were completed, but we don't know the toxicity levels inside yet, I can try booting it up and closing the blast doors to vent the place?"

Norm nodded to her, "I'm sick of wearing this mask." Jake and Neytiri both settled down in a corner, he holding his sides, and she looking withered beside him. Peyral set her jaw as she watched the machine lights display the battle above. Thousands of red dots swirled around green rings showing distance, like a swarm of fire ants fighting each other. "Okay first off, clear up the signal a bit, separate the organic signatures from the mechanical- the goods guys are the ones on banshees." A tech wearing fatigues quickly pressed several keys, the display monitor lit up like a Christmas tree.

"What's the current count?" Jake rasped.

Norm licked his lips, "Hold on, still calculating, uh… It's hard to tell, infrared sensors are being thrown off by the fire orb explosion things." As if on cue another explosion rocked the entire base, knocking several off their feet. "We're hit! A Drop ship just went down, did it breech us?"

"Sir, the area is being sealed, crew quarters twenty three through twenty six were heavily damaged, but that section is abandoned- I don't think anyone got hurt." The woman with black hair said again.

Norm licked his lips turning back to the screen, "Okay, um, general count here, it looks like…" he paused eyes narrowing. Jake, Neytiri, Peyral, and Mo'at all waited in anticipation, breath held; the tension was palpable. Then, Norm smiled. He turned his head excitedly, "Guys, it looks like we've got three to one odds, I think- I think we're winning!" Another explosion vibrated the whole building ominously.

…

A drop ship tilted doing three consecutive rolls to avoid a banshee diving past it, two more twirled keeping pace to it, the drop ship hit a dead stop then burst upwards unnaturally forcing the Banshees to by pass it as it opened fire on the unlucky second. Bullets ripped into its belly and it fell away, just as the dropship itself was slammed by four different orbs as three more riders dove past it in a circle to rescue their falling comrade. Another drop ship coordinated with two more strafed left, power sliding across the sky to bring a firing line across two more Banshee riders, one rider leaped upwards kicking his banshee down from him to avoid the tracers like a cutting yellow sword, he free fell only to have his Banshee snatch him from the tops of the trees themselves. A fifth rider came in from beneath the three drop ships, hurling three orbs upwards, two of which slammed into the bottom of the middle craft while the third struck the far left, through this burning gap his banshee passed like a burning arrow, shouting in fury as he came.

The half melted drop ships port engine failed sending it spinning off like an insane top, striking trees and foliage like tinfoil to land hard upon the ground with a vaporous blue explosion. Where clouds of black smoke drifted into the sky, red fire flowed through it in a mesmerizing maze of angry orange patterns. Yet another drop ship somersaulted to avoid three riders more, firing around it blindly and clipping a partner ship on the flank, this ship over corrected slamming haphazardly into a passing Banshee which retaliated with shrieking claws against metal while it's rider slammed a globe directly into the glass of the cockpit. Chaos abound, a drop ship fell, two riders followed it into the foliage. The ship crashed, snapping the branches, desperate to loose itself among the lights of the forest, but the hum of its engines was unmistakable and the two riders kept pace, above it with ease. A second drop ship scattered the banshee riders, swooping in as back up allowing the first ship to break through again, only to meet flaming death from another rider who came in from inside the trees themselves. The first drop ship stalled in mid air like a breaching whale, then slowly fell back to the cold ground in a horrid cry of dieing engines.

Yawne and Lawtaw spun a completed horizontal circle, dodging tracer rounds as yellow lines stabbing the sky. A small basket thrown over his shoulder like a satchel revealed orange orbs, glowing like glass fire. Yawne reached into the bag and pulled out a sphere, "YER MOTHER!" he slammed one into the ship he'd just passed over upside down screaming over the glass. The drop ship buckled under the burning ooze, an engine on the side erupted in black smoke and the hornet went into a lopsided dive; another rider followed suit tossing his own orbs into it to further seal its downfall. Lawtaw braced and turned again leaning into Yawne's weight and sucking in great swallows of air through the air holes by Yawne's feet. "BOGEY AT FOUR O'CLOCK!" Lawtaw immediately dived right narrowly avoiding the yellow lines of death slashing past their flank. Nearly somersaulting in midair, Yawne wrapped his legs around Lawtaw and tossed an orb upward into the belly of the ship which had just fired on them. "HOW ABOUT A LITTLE FIRE SCARECROW! NYE HEHEHEHEH!" Yawne's cackling disappeared into the night as he was swallowed by a pattern of weaving fire.

The drops ships had massively more powerful ordinance than the Na'vi, and their coordination was flawless, but their sensors could not distinguish heat signatures from the interference with all the fire orbs- their sensors only indicated huge heat blooms, further trying to target by eyesight was made more difficult by the tribal orange markings, thought they glowed in the dark, it was paramount to trying to distinguish one zebra from a herd of thousands. Flying zebra. For every banshee they managed to take out by firing practically blind, three swarmed around them dropping the fire orbs onto the hull like being carpet bombed from every direction at once. The Nekxtskxe also had greater numbers, despite only amounting to around three hundred individual members in the clan, the illusion created by their tactical flight made them appear as thousands, and what was more the drop ships were well back lit by appear as black splotches in the maze of burning stripes. Each Na'vi, enhanced night vision or no, merely had to toss an orb into the black hole created by the absence of tribal fire markings and score a hit.

The Nekxtskxe's battle tactics were ancient, and relied heavily on a team work reminiscent of a pack of wolves or swarming bats- the manned machines, though in constant communication, were up against hundreds of years of instinctual honing to work together on a level beyond sound and into visual cues based on simple observation. In other words: they had no chance. Another explosion rocked the air as the next drop ship fell, even if the pilots evacuated, they were sitting ducks for the hungry banshees tired of clawing solid metal. Hornet met Hellfire Wasp. It was not long into the dog fight the Order ships tried to regroup, setting up a defensive firing line, this only allowed the Nekxtskxe to surround them in a spiraling drill that tore through them. There was no other alternative… the Old Order ships, hovered in place for a split second more, and fled. The Nekxtskxe gave chase, but the drops ships also had superior thrust, and the whole clan had flown hard to reach the battleground in time. Cave Banshees were still animals, and they tired.

Yawne pulled Lawtaw up short, hovering in place; the Nekxtskxe needed no order to halt they fell in line, in formation, behind him. Yawne watched the ships regroup and speed away into the stance, jumping into the darkness like fleas with blue fire under their butts. As the last of the yellow lights vanished, some among the Nekxtskxe let out war cries of victory, these were joined and the cloud of burning dragons shrieked in answer. They had won, the Old Order was defeated! But Yawne remained silent, breathing heavily. Yes, the battle was won… but not the war. He knew well the ships were retreating to a place of safety, probably a base- even a temporary one- it was still a seat of power… there was still a another fight to be had. Yawne turned to his back up. Like, hell Vikings, they grinned at him- their new leader who had, on the same day as defeating their mightiest warrior king, lead them to a victory against a greater force. Yawne held up his fist, shouting in Na'vi, "LAND! REST! THE OMATICAYA HAVE MUCH TO THANK US FOR!" the howls of glorious victory erupted like a wall of force, chants and cheers as warriors of both genders descended onto Hell's Gate. The fires fell one by one, lighting up the compound , the demons had come home.

…

Yawne, flanked by two honor guards- a male and female- marched into the compound like King Conan, face set hard as he entered the main command room. Jake, Neytiri and Mo'at looked up to him in thankful relief. "OLO'EYKTAN JAKESULLY! TSAHIK MO'AT! TSAHIK NEYTIRI!" Yawne boomed like a drill sergeant, immediacy their smiles stilled, "I Yawne, Olo'eyktan of the Nekxtskxe hereby claim Hell's Gate as my sole property," he pointed strongly, "You may contest this, in which case you will have three days to gather your elders, discuss your war council, or- do you choose to surrender now?" Jake looked at Yawne peculiarly, what the hell was going on? All human faces, including Norm, and the Na'vi scientists side by side with their avatar driver friends looked to each other in cold fear. Jake half smiled, as if it was a joke… but it was clear by the hard frown on Peyral's face and the blood lust in Yawne's guards faces… Yawne clearly meant what he said. Jake looked to Neytiri and Mo'at, who returned confused glances, then back to Yawne's hard face.

"…we surrender."

"Very well." Yawne's put his hands to his hips, "You are all now my guests, and under my personal protection until I say otherwise. You are free to use my home and all things within it as you like, until I say otherwise. As I now own this it is my property, none from my clan, nor yours, are allowed to harm it- damage it- destroy it- or abuse it." He proclaimed this loudly, much to the stunned and silent face all around him. Yawne turned his head to his honor guard. "Spread this words to the others, have them set up guard incase the sky people return, tend to the wounded and remember- the Omaticaya and all the humans here are my guests, treat them as my honor." The guards nodded without hesitation of their own the two honor guards turned and swiftly left, chattering to each other excitedly, faces bright with proud grins; see how mighty their new king was? The fabled sky people of Hell's gate gave in to him without hesitation! Yawne remained standing possessively and proudly with hands on hips until they were well out of earshot. aaaaaaaat which point he calmly dropped onto the floor spread eagle.

Peyral ran to his side. "My love, are you alright?"

"No." he said from the floor, face down.

Jake couldn't help but grin, the tension in his neck falling away. "Well… look what the cat dragged in." Jake and Yawne burst out in haggard laughter, which hurt, but -fools both as they were- neither could help it. It hurt so much, tears fell from their eyes and each sucked in pained breath, before continuing to laugh anyway. The rest shared glances, but Norm at least relaxed, cuing them to release the breath they were holding. Outside the Nekxtskxe began singing victory songs, making cooking fires, and joyfully collecting their honored dead.