Gathered around a rock, covered with a leaf for a tablecloth and filled with scrumptious colourful dishes, the Sully family sat for their breakfast. Their mood was merry, and they were even playful with each other as they enjoyed the Tawkami menu served by their hostess, Kiri. She set an assortment of pre-cut morsels into a lacquered bowl and showed them how to mix it as the villagers do, then add chillies for flavour, but only slight so as not to ruin the taste.

Jake coughed, trying to choke down his breakfast, and Kiri snickered as she pointed out he had added too many wekx chillies to his mix. He sniffed. |"Hey, it—"| He sniffed again. |"Gets you going for the day."|

Neytiri was amused and said to her children, |"Your father has always been very bad with instructions."|

|"No, no, this is actually good."| Jake took another strained bite. |"Clears the nostrils."|

|"You're going to hurt yourself if you keep insisting, Father."|

|"Nah, you don't—"| Jake beat his chest. |"Don't understand culinary—ngh…stuff. Here, you try some."|

"Kea tìkin," Neteyam politely turned down the offered bowl. |"I choose to live."|

Kiri had an impish idea, danced an eyebrow at her brother, then dared to take the bowl.

"Kiri!" Neytiri gasped, worried for her daughter as she watched her fan her grimacing face, but, at the same time, not feeling the least bit sorry for her.

"Attagirl!" Jake laughed.

She held her fist up in triumph, then flashed a cocky grin at her brother as she nudged the bowl towards him.

"Ke-he-he-he." He laughed. |"I concede. You are braver than me."|

Kiri shimmied her head in challenge till, finally, he relented, voicing a good-humoured grumble at his impish parents watching. He skewered his prong into the bowl and brought up a sticky piece of meat coated in brew and loaded with mouth-burning chillies. He scrunched his mouth, giving his sister a cheesy simper, hoping she'd show mercy, but Kiri would not release him. Neteyam ate the potent mix. "Saa!" He coughed away as Jake and Kiri exchanged devious smiles.

"Guess he's not tough like us."

Kiri concurred.

|"You know…"| Neteyam sniffed for the dozenth time. |"It is the kind of taste that grows on you."| He dared to dip his utensil into the bowl and taste the sauce again.

|"Maybe, now, the females will not find you lukewarm,"| his mother commented, and the prince gagged on his utensil.

Jake grinned and raised a cup. "Okay, who's ready for shots of tequila?"

Kiri raised her hand.

Jake bent it down. "Not you. You're underaged."

|"Not anymore."| Neteyam smirked knowingly. |"She's going to be mated to an ooolo'eyktaaan."| He nudged her shoulder.

Freckles blazing, Kiri hit her brother's knee.

|"'ak! You are betrothed now, sister. You must behave more like a lady."|

Kiri hissed at him.

|"It is still not for some time,"| Neytiri inserted. |"Do not tease her about it."|

|"She hissed at me! My sister, the yerik, has become a palulukan."|

She clamped her fingers before her mouth, meaning, "I can bite like one, too."

Jake observed the dynamic and remarked to his wife, |"You know, it's really nice we're all sitting together like this."|

|"Of course we are,"| Neytiri answered. |"Why should we not be?"|

|"Where I come from, this sorta thing is rare."|

|"What is?"|

|"Just eating together and laughing."|

Neytiri flashed him a grin. |"If it is rare on your star, no wonder you came to mine."|

In that moment, his gaze on his mate increased in amour. "You were so worth it…"

The wife blinked back, and their offspring knew that was their cue to exit. Neteyam cleared his throat. |"May I leave, Father?"|

Jake was still smiling at his mate when he directed a thumb over his shoulder. "Get outta here."

Clasping hands, the siblings bounded off.

|"So much for eating together…"| Neytiri huffed, but Jake's half-lidded gaze would not relent.

"Don't worry about it…" He then leaned in and kissed her.

|"'ak! Your lips are spicy!"| she interjected, but it only caused her to taste more.


Brother and sister gambolled through showers of rising sunlight, past the warbonnet ferns and hanging dakterons like they did in their frolicsome youth—a princess soon to be married and a prince who had yet to find a match. Kiri flicked her ears and laughed as she tugged Neteyam's kuru.

|"Kiri? Hey! You're an adult now, remember? Men do not want immature mates."| He waved a finger.

She smirked. "It is you who does not have one yet. We must find one for you."

|"A man? Sister? You are spicy."|

She snorted while bringing up her hands. "I am saying you need a mate. Maybe a man?"

|"Oh? And who would you recommend I take?"|

She replied by flexing her arms.

|"Ah? Someone big and strong."|

She nodded.

|"I take it Syotxa' does not have a sister, then?"|

"No. I already asked. He has two brothers."

He chuckled. |"I am afraid I must pass, but I thank you for thinking of me. Pity. I will have to make peace with being lonely for the rest of my life,"| he dramatized. Going along with it, she pouted in play. |"Alas, dear sister. I am too spoiled by your goodness. How can I meet another who could compare with you?"|

She brushed him away. "You are being silly. Women do not want immature mates." She waved a finger.

|"I will remember that."| He smirked. |"But it is half-true. I am a hybrid."| Neteyam held up his hands to study his eight digits. |"An Omatikaya firstborn with a love for Skypeople culture. I cannot efface myself of my alien heritage. I may be Na'vi, but who would understand this other half of me?"|

Her brother's ruminations also made her reflect, and Kiri fanned out her own five fingers to observe, then weaved them into his four.

|"You are right. We still have each other. I will miss you so much once you are with Syotxa'. Without you, I might die of loneliness."|

"Do not forget," signed Kiri, "I would too."


Ardmore's palace—a fortress of cement, guns and able-bodied men—awaited the recombinant officer and his mount, coming in to land. Defences were shut down, and the terrible dragon swooped for the lifeless courtyard. Quaritch dismounted, then gave his face a wipe, trying to bring back some alertness; he hadn't slept in hours.

"Alright, Gloria, Papa will be quick. Don't go snacking on any of Ardmore's grunts." The banshee was restless, and her darting eyes were seeking out every corner for potential danger. Quaritch patted her a few times to calm her down, then proceeded across the pavement to the great overhang: a black garage entrance of glass and bars. He didn't know why he received a summons so early in the morning, much less why the location was at Ardmore's own private residence. He walked with confidence, but inwardly, he was not at ease; there was something about the order that felt off, but as he was a pragmatic man, there was no place in his life for premonitions. Pushing aside his misgivings, he pressed forward when Gloria suddenly jounced in front, severing his path. The head bucked and growled with fear. Quaritch was dumbfounded.

A trooper on guard noticed the commotion. "What's wrong with it?"

"Sorry, she's a— She's agitated." Quaritch stepped towards her cautiously, gained purchase of her head, and held her close. "What's going on with you?" he whispered, cognisant about upsetting guards. "Remember what I said about the food chain? Don't go acting up." Her heavy breathing unsettled him; she was genuinely afraid—for him. He decided to rub her head. "Okay… Easy girl… Easy… Shh… I'll be back, alright?" Another rub, and she was calm as he was going to get her, for Ardmore's opening jaws awaited him.

Stepping inside the interior—it was a ghastly sight: a massive nihilistic space of straight lines, harsh turns, cement, bolts, beams and black shadows. Quaritch, still thinking about Gloria outside, reset his sights to the top of the bifurcated stairwell. He strapped on his breather and headed up. In the dead silence of the palace, one could almost pick up the rumbles of a spine-tingling bass, announcing the colonel's arrival—or warning him of his folly. His legs could skip every five steps, but the trek didn't feel any shorter; it was like he was becoming one with the cement. He turned left, and lining the wall of a long corridor were relics from the Terracotta Army: Chinese soldiers, stolen from the past, to be drafted into the service of a new emperor. Quaritch passed the life-sized figures he towered over, musing to himself that the men were petrified by the gorgon who resided within these walls. The farther he walked down the hall, the louder the artificial sounds of his breathing seemed to become. He finally reached the end and arrived to black doors. The heavy slabs rose, then rotated on pivots, allowing him inside. He removed his breather, crossed the expanse, and stood before the desk with a salute.

"Quaritch." Her lips pressed. "Welcome. Meet our guest." Her palm directed him to turn around. There, sitting on a lounge chair by the door, was a serene elderly woman. "Debora Vandervelde," Ardmore introduced. "One of the investors behind the construction of Bridgehead."

The colonel clicked his heels together and straightened out his posture in respect to the noble. A sensation chilled Miles, making him feel undressed, like he was back in that amino tank; it had to do with how she stared at him, as if she knew every little detail about his entire life, and he didn't like that.

"Officer Quaritch. We are graced with a proper meeting at last," she welcomed with a smile. When he faltered on his words, she helped out. "You used my cerebellosis? Your mind transfer?"

"Oh."

"I am one of the RDA's original shareholders. You live because of me."

"I thank you for…the benefit."

"You're welcome. I understand you have been helping oversee my protégé?"

"I'm not aware of any involvement?"

"Miles Socorro. I'm his sponsor."

Quaritch was a statue.

"A tragic turn of events—a boy raised by the worst traitor in human history. It's painful thinking about a child suffering that kind of abuse." She leaned forward on her knees, cupping her hands as she stared into the recombinant. "I never had children, so there's a void in me he fills. I want to repair the damage done to that poor boy."

"In my experience, ma'am. It's best to let them figure out their own minds."

She sat up and walked over, no crease forming in her pressed maroon pants. "I'm not seeking to be hard on Miles but to deprogram him slowly. What is the fable? The one where the wind and sun held a bet as to who could strip the traveller of his coat? The harder the wind blew, the tighter the traveller held on, but when the sun increased its rays,"—she flowed down her arms in demonstration—"the traveller willingly took it off." She mused to Ardmore, "It is a nice fable, isn't it?"

"It's lovely, ma'am."

Debora returned to the giant; the only thing that bothered her about the height difference was the neck cramp he caused. "Now, then. I've decided to come and live at Bridgehead early, before the headquarters are complete. There are matters of precedence I personally want to oversee, and for it, we need to make use of the—" she stalled. "What is it you call your team?"

"The Deja Blus, ma'am."

"Yes, the Deja Blus. You are to lead a raid on a Na'vi village where intel tells us Dr. Grace Augustine is currently hiding out. And if Jake Sully is as well, we'll kill two birds with one stone. What was the name of that village?" she asked the general.

"Tahkawmee."

"Tawkami, that's it. We will show you exactly where it's located. We want this village completely surrounded, burn it to the ground if need be, and for you to bring back Dr. Augustine and her daughter."

"Her daughter, ma'am?"

"Yes, Augustine conceived life with a native and birthed a hybrid. She should be anywhere between thirteen to sixteen, perhaps. She is called Kiri—a mute child with five fingers. Locate her and bring them both back alive. We are counting on your team, Officer Quaritch."

"We will follow orders."

"Good. Is there anything you would like to ask him, General?"

"Nope, nothing at all."

"Then you are dismissed."

Quaritch bowed his head to her, to Ardmore, then, taking his breather, proceeded out of there as fast as respectability allowed. He marched down the aseptic bowels of the palace that started to blur; details fell into obscurity, and his surroundings began to warp. He had never felt so near to nausea. He collapsed on a terracotta man, gripping its shoulders and gasping for air. Close to passing out, he hurriedly strapped on his breathing apparatus and waited to recover. Quaritch wanted to tell himself it wasn't true, but experience wouldn't allow it. Spider forgot his loyalties, put everyone he cared for at risk—sold them all out—for one thing: a blue filly. A hard inhale and Quaritch was back in the game because he had this solace: Spider wasn't his son.


"To the retirement of the sexiest recom," toasted Fike, raising a glass.

"Didn't know you were quitting, handsome."

Fike splashed Johnny.

"We're going to miss you, Z-Dog."

CJ thanked Mansk and everyone else for the last-minute celebration at their recombinant lodge. Water was the only beverage, so to 'liven things up,' belts from their machine guns acted as streamers. All in all, it was a cute little retirement party that Casey would have enjoyed if it weren't for the previous night.

Warren was on a bar stool, leaning on his legs as he said, "Yeah… We're going to miss having you around. You've become the most popular out of all us recoms."

"You were voted the biggest darling of Bridgehead. How's your public going to take it when you quit the limelight?"

"Okay, first of all, having a crew coming by to interview us doesn't make me the 'Darling of Bridgehead.'"

"No, it's when they come by a second time just for you," laughed Brown.

"Don't forget when they took her photo for that big promotional poster."

Walker leaned back into Mansk. "Enough joking. How do you know Bridgehead's going to let you go, Casey?"

"Why wouldn't they?"

"We had no say in coming back. You think they'll give you a say now?"

The mood of the party started to deflate.

'C'mon, Walker," Johnny whined. "Why you always got to have something up your ass?"

"I'm pointing out the obvious, Tiny. We've never pissed off this city before, so we don't know how much leverage we actually have."

"It's allowed," said Wainfleet. "The colonel told me himself that we can retire and get married."

A loud snort was made, followed by a "Did you say yes?"

The whole room cachinnated.

"Thanks, Baldy..." CJ tried to smile. "See, Bridgette? It's cool."

"Zhâng's a really lucky guy. I'm wishin' I took the time to sweet-talk yah, but I really thought you and him were just friends."

"You're sweet, Tyler. You'd be my next pick, but Angel beat me to it."

Lopez gave Brown a dead-on stare. "She knows…"

"So now that you're quittin', are you still going to live at Homestead?"

"Uh…" CJ twiddled her fingers. "I was thinking of moving into the ward, actually, so I can help out with Qiáo. Apparently, he needs a lot of nurses, so I could easily replace three."

"When are you going to announce your leave?"

"I already wrote my resignation. Bridgette's driving me up to Parker's to deliver it."

"I take it the colonel already knows?"

"Or is it a surprise?"

"He knows. I told him before he… Before he left."

"What did he say?"

CJ thought about it. "To just do it."

"He didn't try and stop you?" wondered Lyle.

"He helped me make up my mind, actually. I wasn't too sure before."

Walker listened attentively as the only one reading between the lines; however, when her belt began to vibrate, she excused herself and strutted outside. Beyond the lodge, she attempted to receive the call, but the return voice crackled. "This is Mother Mary. Message is coming in broken. Over."

"I say again. This is Blue Daddy. Relay to Deja Blu team. We're attacking a Na'vi village. Instructions to come. Acknowledge. Over."

"Roger, Blue Daddy. Which village? Over."

"Tawkami clan. They're big. I want everyone to be over-prepared. Get your banshees and meet me on airfield six at eleven hundred hours." There was a pause. "And have Z-Dog sit this one out. Over."

"You sure about that, sir? She hasn't officially retired yet. Over."

"I don't care about that. Just tell her to stay behind. Out."

Walker set the walkie-talkie back on her belt and reentered the lodge with a clap to gather attention. "Okay, pack up! Party's over. Got word from the colonel. Were assaulting a Na'vi village in exactly one hour."

As the room cleared out, Casey stepped forward. "What village?"

"Tawkami. Don't ask me why. And the colonel told me to tell you, you're sittin' this one out."

The news made CJ rub her face in disgust, triggering an annoyed sigh from Walker. "Casey, what's going on?"

"It's nothing, Bridgette."

"Did the colonel say something to you?"

The ears swivelled, and her eyes scanned the entryway for listeners. "You were right about me being a flirt with the men… Shoulda listened…"

Walker's blood started to run hot as she shortened the gap between them. "What did he do?"

"He… Nothing. I'm retiring, and that's the end of it."

CJ made to leave, but Walker cut her off, with an arm reached out in plea. "Casey, tell me directly. Did he force himself on you?"

"No! I—ugh!"

"Then, what happened?"

She let her blank eyes drift high. "He kissed me, okay? I tell him I'm quitting to be with Qiáo—who's in a coma!—and he moves in! Maybe I asked for it… What was I thinking? Showing up on his porch in the middle of the night… I thought I could trust him."

Hearing the full confession was the only antidote to the poisonous fears in Bridgette's mind. She relaxed and set her hands on her belt. "It's not your fault, kid. It's his. I just didn't actually think he'd be stupid enough to act up. Guess I was wrong."

"You knew he would do something like this?"

"Experience. Fifteen years on Hell's Gate where sex is illegal? Running around as a hot-blooded youth again? Not that hard to connect the dots."

"Gnagh! I feel like an idiot."

"Why? Because you're young and trusting? I'm sorry to break it to you, but this is how women learn that men are pigs—the hard way."

"You sound like you've been burned."

"It's called 'par for the course.' I'm just glad you got off easy. It could've been a lot worse."

CJ's grateful eyes bowed to hers. "And here I used to think you were being a b**** for no reason. You were just tryin' protect me, weren't you?"

"Are you kidding? If you joined the Corp looking for protection, you made a mistake. Trouble, I can understand."

CJ's laugh came out as a snort. "Right, on two fronts. Looking for trouble and gave trouble."

"What do you mean?"

"I belted him across the jaw."

"Zut! And I missed it? You tell me all about it when I get back, okay? I want all the gory details."

"Consider them yours. Bye, Bridgette." The sisters fist-bumped, and Walker departed to carry out her mission.


A bare foot pressed into black sand, and out from under her toes grew rivers of light. Lines as bright as the sun curled like vines, burgeoning with buds and blooms. Her touch painted a masterpiece upon the barren land that extended beyond the horizon. Figures emerged from the sands, and a song began, deep and mysterious and filled with magic. From the ring of black forms, someone came walking towards her. The ambiguous figure was an undulating feminine shadow, taller and older and possessing a glowing outline of glittering sand that hovered an inch from the silhouette. The angel stopped and gracefully stretched out her arm. When the hovering finger was held out to her, she knew she needed to return with her own. At that moment, all the glowing sand, clinging to the other form, went from static to swirling, rolling across the body like a whirlwind, starting at the feet and disintegrating the figure as the winds moved up the legs, hips, torso, then over the length of the disappearing arm where it twirled over the bridge. She watched helplessly as she inherited the particles of light. Suddenly, every speck of sand lying on the desert bed was pulled into the gravitational grip, birthing a hurricane with her as the eye. The roaring sound of grit-filled winds crescendoed, and she was terrified, witnessing the very sun being blotted out by the sandstorm. The dark and ominous clouds closed in and devoured her.

Kiri was yanked out of her meditation. There she was, sitting in the ancient grove with her grandmother, who was in a state of alarm. It was the hour of the eclipse, and during her meditation, a tempest had beset them. All the tree boughs were shaking wildly, leaves were spinning through the air like blades and sounds, unnatural, were booming from the sky.

The elder recognized the foreboding roar. |"It is the Skypeople! We must hide, Kiri! Hurry, hurry!"| Mo'at rushed away with her, both ducking from the forceful winds where they encountered Syotxa', who had sought them out.

|"The Skypeople are surrounding my village! Come! We must fly!"|

They sped for the safety of the forest, but in the distance, crushing the green, the trio saw the glint of AMP suits carrying machine guns; the Skypeople had already cast their noose and were cinching the ring.

|"I know a place! This way!"| The olo'eyktan then took his betrothed's hand and hurried off with her and Mo'at.

The gunships broke from formation and formed a perimeter around the entire Tawkami village. On the ground, every Na'vi warrior fought the bellowing winds, taking up their arrows, their spears, hatchets, bolos—anything to fend off the evil that was suddenly besieging them.

Jake was jostled around in the pandemonium as he tried to pry from the black skies the numbers that hunted them, but the eclipse wouldn't allow for any information to be divulged; all Jake knew, by the demonic roar of engines, was that they were in the presence of a Dragon Assault Ship. Then, a new sound distracted him; Jake went white as he listened to a thunder of tremors coming from all sides.

Crashing through the village, breaking huts and whole trees in their cruel march, was a fleet of AMPs. The golems were larger than he remembered, deadlier, bulkier and aiming their weapons at the people. Warriors shot at the impenetrable Titans, and one giant retaliated by cocking his barrel. Na'vi went flying back, and screams of horror and agony rose from the multitude. |"Don't shoot!"| Jake shouted desperately to the clans. |"Don't shoot!"| But his pleas were overpowered by a terrible screech. Turning around, he stared up at a black 'X' that grew in size as it descended upon them, transforming into an ikran. There, atop the rearing banshee, was the Chief of Demons.

Quaritch leapt down, and his stamp ensorcelled the throng into silence. He took in Sully—his garb of the feather mantle, his dagger, his fang collar; he looked the role.

Jake's raging stare locked on the colonel as he tried to figure out what game it was he was playing. Quaritch reached for his holster and removed his revolver, then held it by the barrel in a deliberate show before sealing it inside the ALICE pack strapped to Gloria. Once done, he turned around and faced Sully with a nudge of his head. The Omatikaya olo'eyktan gave a hard stare back before nodding his understanding. Without breaking eye contact, Jake gestured for Neteyam. Stripping his bow, he handed it to his son along with his knife. "Make sure no one does anything until I get back," he ordered. The prince blanched but yielded his affirmative. Jake's eyes diverted briefly to his terrified wife, silently offered her reassurance, then answered the summons.

Toruk Makto and Vrrtepeyktan walked amicably, side by side, to the village gates.

Within full view of eyes but beyond the reach of ears, the Marines stopped and calmly squared off with each other—they were over-prepared for this day.

"Okay, Sully. Let's make this quick."

"What do you want? An official surrender?" he chuffed in an almost laugh.

"Nope. You're old news. Bridgehead just wants two people. You give 'em up, and things won't get ugly."

"Sure you don't want to shoot me, instead?"

"Don't tempt me. You're hanging by a real thin thread, Sully. So I suggest you play nice. I've come for Augustine and her daughter. Hand them over, and I may let your aboriginal horde live—mostly." The recombinant waited for a reply, but all Jake gave him was a dumb stare. "C'mon, Sully, shouldn't be too hard to weigh the options. Two women over—" He assessed the numbers. "Two—three hundred natives? I see Mrs. Sully out there." He was in an arm fold, so he wiggled his fingers in a hello. "Son too. Your family or Augustine's. Which one is it?"

Jake's head bobbed in deep, abstracted thought, then shot up. "Grace is dead."

The smile vanished.

"She was shot when we were escaping Hell's Gate."

The colonel replayed that night in his mind; in one second, an eternity passed—the traitor was telling the truth.

"As for Kiri?" Jake took a step towards the frozen Quaritch, then another and another till his wild eyes were but an inch from his before uttering, "You try and take my daughter from me."

The face-off did not falter in that pregnant pause, both unflinching despite the boiling pangs of their animus. Then, with a wry smirk, Quaritch birthed the words, "It gets ugly, then…" He backed away, his eyes holding his opponent's as he pressed his throat and said, "Begin search."

Suddenly, a swarm of ikrans rained on the villagers. Quaritch's demons broke into the screaming multitude. The olo'eyktan rushed towards his helpless people, but Vrrtepeyktan seized him by the wrists in a crushing vice, forcing him to participate only as a spectator.

Neteyam shielded his mother and snarled at the enemies who came too close, but they had no interest in them; instead, the soldiers targeted every adolescent girl they saw, gripping them by either braid or limb before thrusting them away.

"She's the only one with five fingers!" reminded the colonel.

Meanwhile, underneath it all, where the Tawkami cultivated their fungi, Kiri, Mo'at and Syotxa' were huddled close as they waited for the storm to pass. When Kiri heard that wicked, threatening shout, she stared at her open hand.

Above, the prince gaped at his mother in shock. |"Mother, they hunt for Kiri!"| Neytiri clutched her son to herself, inwardly begging Eywa they would not find her other child.

Walker scanned the heads in disappointment and pressed her throat mic. "Still no sign of her."

"Fan out. Search every hut." Quaritch paused to look deliberately at his captive. "And don't be polite about it."

"You're going to hell." Jake swallowed tightly.

"Been there."

The horde obeyed and stormed the inner village. Tents were ripped in two, supports stamped down, and possessions fell from balconies as they ransacked the innocent village. Wainfleet marched into a hut and heard a vicious hiss. Huddled in the corner was a woman desperately protecting her newborn with only a knife for defence. For a long second, the trespasser stared before he remembered his directive and silently backed out of the home. "There's…" He forgot to press his mic. "There's no sign of her on this level."

Quaritch's head drifted towards Sully. "Well, isn't that unfortunate? Guess we have to step things up a bit." The recom released one hand, wormed it around his neck, and ordered, "Turn up the heat." Lyle rushed to the ledge and stared down at his commander.

More and more enemies plagued the Na'vi. Sliding down ropes, unfurled from the gunships, came a legion of SKEL suits. They marched to the bases of the village's balconies and brought out their attack. The charred nozzles of their weapons sputtered, and flames flashed from the barrels. Streams of scalding inferno attacked the foliage and leapt for the woven platforms. The fire engulfed the supports, and the homes came crashing down as fireballs. Families cried out in horror as they helplessly watched the carnage. Burning heat seared their hair and skin, with some victims even throwing themselves over children to shield them from the falling embers.

Lyle ran back into the hut and, with a quick outmanoeuvre, disarmed the mother and corralled her out. Past scant openings among raging flames, he pushed her forward, making a treacherous escape over the broken supports of the shattering and burning balcony. They jumped for branches, trying to outrace the fire, when they both lost their footing. The mother screamed, and Wainfleet grabbed the cast up newborn, quickly tucking the child inward before slamming onto an AMP suit. The startled driver only had a few seconds to register the recom and Na'vi woman before Lyle bolted off with her into the jungle. He kept pressing her onward, but she stumbled, wanting to turn back for her baby only to discover the rekom holding the crying infant. Panting heavily, he shifted the newborn into her outstretched arms, then sternly ordered, |"Get out of here!"| Sawnee was in a state of shock, but she still bid him a Na'vi salute, which he returned as she escaped into the forest.

The recoms stood in the eye of the firestorm, and Walker swallowed hard as a conflicted participant. Wainfleet came rushing back and rejoined his team, who noticed him repeatedly patting his singed clothing.

"Anything?" their colonel's voice came over the earpiece, still at the village gates, subjugating Jake.

With bloodshot eyes, Lyle smacked his throat mic and roared, "She's not here!"

The hot exchange startled the team. Quaritch didn't understand what was happening, but he had had enough. Gripping Jake's queue, he dragged him back to the centre, marching past his recoms, where he thrust his prisoner down before all the Na'vi. Quaritch kicked the traitor to his knees, drew out his tactical knife and flipped it in his hands. |"Your Rider of Last Shadow will be cut off from Mother forever if you no speak where Kiri hides!"|

|"Hush, hush, my daughter,"| the grandmother whispered as she felt the child tremble in her arms. |"Do not be afraid. Close your ears… Close your ears…"|

A strange peace descended upon Jake as he felt the tug of his braid. Losing Kiri was a far worse fate than losing his kuru that it actually gave him relief. He shut his eyes and began mumbling, |"Great Mother, I am Your son—I return to You my energy and thank You for the life You have given me. I thank You for my mate, my son and my daughter, and all my blessings. Great Mother, I am Your child. To You, I commit myself."|

Quaritch belted a growl as he planted his boot over Sully's shoulder, grinding him into the ground.

When her father's cries sunk through the earth and fell into her ears, Kiri relaxed her body—to her tsahìk's notice. Baffled, Mo'at loosened her grip, and Kiri stood up to face her protectors. She brought a hand around her ear and returned to Syotxa' his token. His disbelieving palm caught the red petals, but his other rushed to clasp her wrist. Kiri saw into him, and, with her free hand, she touched his cinching fingers that dropped away.

Quaritch sneered at the uncooperative primitives. "Alright then…" He inhaled deeply, digging his heel deeper into Jake's skin as he pulled the queue taught, triggering a yowl that shattered Neteyam and Neytiri. If the warmonger could not succeed in his mission of bringing back Augustine's child, he could at least quench his thirst with the blood of a traitor. He savoured the moment, ordained even by the sun as it chose, just then, to emerge as a spotlight for his grand finale. He held the tactical knife high, the sun glinting off the metal, and brought down the blade.

A panel in the ground flipped open.

The knife was hovering an inch from the queue when all ceased to watch a Na'vi girl birth herself from the earth.

"No…" Jake breathed. Seeing his baby standing right there enervated him to the point of paralysis, and his frozen state infected the whole village—even the recoms stood silent.

Kiri approached Quaritch.

Her face was blank, for she was tired of tears; in its place were strands of hair flitting over her dry cheeks. The platform holding up Syotxa's hut collapsed, and her would-be home blazed behind her. She raised her right hand and presented the five fingers.

In that harmless stare, those eyes held him hostage. He stood, static in position, with his pupils dilating and chest tightening. His thoughts went blank, and he was like a mindless beast—transfixed. He shut his mouth, and the blade was returned, with his frown bespeaking a bitter acknowledgment of his forced concession. He lowered his head but still kept her in his peripheral vision as he worked his throat mic. "Okay, Walker. Take her and go."

With the same transfixion, Bridgette had been watching the scene, so when the command came to her, it broke the spell of her enchantment.

The girl looked once more at her father—breathless in his horrified shock—then rubbed the spot where he lived before signing her goodbye.

Walker set the braces on her wrists.

"No!"

Quaritch pinned Sully back down with one last thrust of his boot and bared his fangs at the gaping Na'vi. Turning on his heel, the demon king mounted his awaiting dragon. He wasn't going to linger in that village a second longer than he had to.