JOURNAL
Notes

Log Entry 009

Department: RDA TAP
Location: Please see attached.

USER005: I've never thought RDA rations could taste this dry, and I'd had these for dinner for as long as I can remember. Considering this one's been around for over a decade, I guess it's not so bad. It definitely beats an empty stomach. Sleeping for sixteen years will do that to you.

Right now, the Na'vi Warrior keeps insisting I eat something. He says I will "need my strength", though I'm not exactly sure what for. What does he mean? He'll be with us, right? We're not soldiers like him. A quick glance at me and you can easily tell that I'm obviously not, so I'm not sure what he's expecting.

I don't think it's his intention either, but he has a tough, scary way about him, and it makes me nervous. If not for that, I might've even asked what his name is. I decide not to risk it. In the end, I'm more than happy to disappear from his sight and down the hall if it encourages this na'vi to redirect his attention to someone (or something) else. Anything else, really.

The canteen looks roughed-up and abandoned, like a, uh… a sterile dimly-lit box. It has a stale smell to it, as if the air inside it is in itself old, expired. The only thing that catches my eye sits atop a table in the very back. It's a small, green container. Metal, I think? If not for its bright color, I would have easily missed it.

The background chatter from the cryovault reaches all the way here. Hushed voices, speaking amongst themselves.

I can hear Ri'nela. She sounds concerned.

"Where's Yefti? And Telisi?" She asks and I start wondering the same thing. She's right – aren't they supposed to be near-by, too?

"Maybe Alma sent them to a different cryovault." I smile a little at Teylan's optimism, but when Alma says nothing... my heart starts to slowly sink.

You see, Alma always has an answer for everything, except when she doesn't. If I figured out anything in the past years we've spent with her, this doesn't happen because Alma doesn't know. No, no. It's because there's a reason for her quietness. I worry that this reason might be the kind that makes me too anxious to even consider writing it down. Though, when I think about it and my friends, about Nor, and the possibility that he or Ri'nela, or Teylan, might have not been with us today because of the same reason, it makes me ...sad. Very sad. I should say, I can't imagine a possibility where I'm around and Nor isn't. If anyone will make it, it's him. He's the survivor. The champion. The Sarentu Olo'eyktan.

Even now, I can hear his assertive voice down the hall, refusing help. "Don't touch me with that."

The aggravation of his tone grows when we are becoming increasingly rushed, though I'm not sure why. The human near-by is insisting everyone's to hurry. I think his name is… Johnny? No, not Johnny. I remember it now, I remember he was talking to Alma earlier. It's Billy. His name is Billy Nash and he's shouting.

"Come on, come on! We gotta go!"

I turn my attention to the green box in a haste. The Na'vi Warrior was abundantly clear - I need to eat something and I'd rather not contradict him. Though I should say, I'm not hopeful I'll actually find something (by the looks of it), and the rush isn't helping. So, when I pull the handle and find inside not one, but two whole untouched RDA rations, I am overcome with joy.

And hunger.

It's not at all surprising that my stomach rumbles instantly at the sight. Without much thought, I press my mouth on the top of the white pouch and squeeze. My face sours instantly. I don't even try to manage its expression. I don't even know how to describe it, ...uh, it's like suddenly being overwhelmed with a taste of blandness and nothingness at the same time, while its small mixture-chunks scratch your tongue and stick to the back of your throat. Yeah, that sounds about right. Yuck.

Still, though... it's better than nothing. A feeling of guilt starts nagging at me.

What about my friends? They are just as hungry and tired as I am. Maybe, even more. I know it sounds funny, feeling "tired" after sleeping for so long, but it's true. And Ri'nela? I don't think I've seen her get up from the cryo-bed at all since Alma woke me up. Maybe, I should have checked-in on her, too. Like Teylan did. She might have sounded alright, but...

No, I've decided.

The Na'vi Warrior is scary, but right now I don't care what he says. I can't keep these to myself. I don't ...want to. My friends need these. Ri'nela needs these. I will be okay. It's got nothing to do with bravery either. It's just that... every little thing matters. Especially, when you're watching from the back. And I've watched enough. I think this is the least I can do. My way of helping everyone, you know? I just hope that it's enough to make a difference. It would be better if we won't need that difference at all, though.

With that thought in mind, I hold-on to the rations tightly and step out of the canteen. I can still hear Nor's voice from the cryovault. Prodding.

"Who are these people? Are these Mercer's people?"

Wait, Mercer? Mercer's back? Alma would have said something by now. Wouldn't she?

"Is Mercer here too?" Teylan asks.

Didn't I... ask that question before? Or was it about the RDA? Alma promised she'll explain everything when we get back. Now that I think about it, I'm not sure what we're getting "back" to. Here... this place, it's all I can remember. Nor speaks about freedom, about getting out, but this is our home. My home. It has always been.

Alma's reassuring tone reaches my ears. I can feel them perk up in anticipation of her response. Worriedly. "No, no. These are friends." Friends. "We're going to get you out."

I can hear the smile in her voice and almost believe her, except... except, she says nothing about Director Mercer. And when Alma says nothing, it can only mean one thing. That something bad's going to happen.

I can feel it.

I don't recall what Alma shouts next or how I make it through the doorway.

By the time I burst into the cryovault, it's been completely cleared. The room is dark and empty, as if my friends and everyone else were only figments of my imagination. A dream turned into a nightmare.

My forehead's pulsating sharply. I think I forgot to bend when I ran through the door and might have hit my head on the top of the wall. I'm just not used to ceilings being this ...low. It's a silly mistake, I know, even if the light's been cut. It doesn't really hurt, though. Just feels a little hot and wet when I give it a few wipes. And a little funny.

When I find myself standing in the middle of the room, my heart feels like it's going to jump out of my chest.

Thoomp-thoomp. Thoomp-thoomp. Thoomp-thoomp. I'm dumb-struck.

What... happened? Where is everyone? Did they leave? Did they just forget me here? Like they forgot Yefti and Telisi? But... they promised. They promised that we're all getting out. He said, "together". Together, he'd said.

And then he left me alone.
A short-lived feeling.

It's not exactly easy for me to describe an explosion. At least, that's what I think it was. I don't remember it very well. What I do remember is a bright flash and realizing I'm still (miraculously) standing on my feet somehow in the face of (what seems to be) immense heat and flying debris. Sharp, dangerous shards of metal and glass. Ouch. My knees fumble and I cave-in, lowering myself behind the closest corner.

The hopeful part of me wants to think that maybe it's the Na'vi Warrior and Alma. Maybe, there was a door malfunction and everyone had to exit quickly before getting stuck. And that they came back. I want to speak Alma's name, to ask, against my gut feeling. I want it to be her or my friends because the alternative that they left me is much worse. Worse, because I know the truth. The painful truth nobody speaks:

That I am the weak link.

That they don't need me. I need them.

That I only drag them down. I've always had.

That I am the reason bad things happen. Worst things. I'm the reason Aha'ri died.

If only I voiced my doubts that night, begged her not to go... If only I told her and everyone else that it's a bad idea, like I knew, and we should stay put. That we should wait. In time, we would come to know we didn't need masks to leave this place. We would have headed straight for the exit instead, saving time, or... But even if we made it past the guards, where would we go? No, it ...doesn't matter what we'd do. What matters is she'd still be here. My Sister would be here, with me.

But I didn't. I didn't do any of that. I let it be. Like I always do. And she died.

When the smoke clears, I almost wish it didn't. I feel ...scared. No, not scared. I am terrified. Absolutely terrified as I watch a unit of heavily armed soldiers make their way into the cryovault. Her, I recognize instantly. Practically at an arm's length - Colonel Harding.

"The children." She growls. "They're alive."

I try to steady my hectic breath, but then Director Mercer comes into view and I grip the edge of the wall tightly for support. I might as well have seen a ghost. I'm looking at one.

My heart's threatening to jump out of my chest. It's loud. Too loud. And my hand won't stop shaking. They'll hear me, won't they? Or see me. It's only a matter of time.

"Cortez!" He barks, authoritative as ever.

I gather the courage to peek at him from the corner and realize... it's true. Nothing's changed. This is the same man I remember. The man, whose hair has a shine of steel. The man, who has fondness of bleach and leather shoes, shoes that make that awful sound of suspense every time he steps. A demonstration he enjoys. The only thing he probably enjoys more is what follows after.

When Mercer speaks again, I realize I might have been too quick in my judgment. "She always thought we were making pets and not soldiers."

I was wrong, something did change. His voice. It's become- he's become ...crueler. I never thought it possible.

And in this moment, I realize something.

(USER005 changed their name to 'the "SARENTU"')

the "SARENTU": I am sorry, Aha'ri. You always stood up for me and I didn't stand up for you. Maybe, this is my chance. It's not bravery. It's not even justice. I can't turn back time. It's selfish, I know, because I want to make you proud, to go out standing up for something I believe in. You would have done the same. You have done the same. I wish I was like you, the Sarentu that you are, the "Sarentu" that Na'vi Warrior Sees.

I've never been much of a fighter, Aha'ri. You know this. But there's one thing I've always been good at - running. Running away from everything and everyone after you left, Aha'ri. No, not left. After you were taken from me.

No more.

I'm looking at Mercer now. I see him, Aha'ri, less than a few feet away from me, and I realize something.

I might not be as quick as Nor when it comes to rifles, or as savvy as Teylan with tech, or as intuitive as Ri'nela in knowing things, what to say, or when to say it. None of it matters. All I need is one well-calculated leap. And then, it'll be over. I can honor your memory, Sister. I can help my friends in a way I know how, in a way that I can. I can provide to them something better than dry, expired RDA rations. Something that will make a real difference. A true chance.

So, I lower myself on one knee. I ignore the fire in the room. Everything inside me is cold. Like these metal walls.

I take a breath, the last one. To get ready. In, and out.

I picture myself lunging at Mercer. I want to do it.

He turns to Colonel Harding. "Get rid of them."

I need to do it now. Before he's out of my reach. If I don't, everyone I care about will get hurt.

No more.

I almost push off the ground in his direction.

Were I to, I'd expect to find myself leaping mid-air, but my knees and chest come to be pressed against the wall instead. The imperfection of the cool, flat surface scratches against my cheek.

I protest. Audibly. I try. A muffled squeak barely escapes. My neck is craned at an odd, painful angle, while a well-placed sharp elbow forces me to watch Mercer slowly disappear from my sight.

No!

This is my chance. A chance before I cower and change my mind. It's begging me to turn my back on Mercer and bolt through some door. Retaliate.

My heart is urging me to do anything but.

But I can't. I can't do either.

I'm pinned and angry. I want to scream, to curse. Except, I can't remember any bad words, in English or Na'vi.

I put up a struggle for my freedom and my chance to express it vocally (my best attempt, I'd say), only to be continuously physically and relentlessly subdued. This is beyond disheartening or embarrassing. In the end, it's not the strong arm that pacifies me. It's the voice behind me. A barely perceptible whisper.

"When I say run - RUN."

I want to protest. I don't.

Somehow, I succeed in tilting my chin and meet a pair of bright eyes in the dark, the look in them is strong, fierce, and unafraid.

Right now, there is only one thing I need to hear. One thing that matters above all else.

"Together?" I barely manage to squeeze through my lungs.

He nods, with unmistakable resolve. "Together."

I wish I didn't run tonight ...but Nor? He makes me want to.