Blood and Thunder Part II — Chapter XVII
North of Ayram Alusìng — One Hour Earlier
With dawn breaking over the Pandoran landscape, hundreds of mesmerizing blades of light pierced through the heavy fog that shrouded the Hallelujah Mountains from the rest of the world. These radiant tendrils created otherworldly fingers that gradually scraped the sky, illuminating the path ahead for one lone rider of the Omatikaya.
Soaring high above the cathedral of mountains, Neytiri quietly mulled over her thoughts upon her ikran. And despite the breathtaking scenery that surrounded her, she also remained oblivious to the beauty that engulfed her. The lingering turmoil from last night's heated argument had taken a toll on her mind, evident in the apathetic stare she cast ahead, unsure of what she had done wrong to feel guilty about her poisonous words.
I should not have said that, she berated herself behind her concentrated gaze.
Her heart weighed heavily with remorse after those hurtful words escaped her lips, words that went on to pierce Jake's spirit like spears thrown from an angry warrior. She had been too hasty, too blinded by her own emotions to see the unfairness of laying such destructive blame for her sister's death on Jake, her Jeyk—the man who fearlessly fought to protect their People. A man who risked everything, even his life, to keep them safe—her safe. He had his faults, of course, too numerous to count on her eight digits, but what she treasured above all was his unwavering loyalty to her, their children, and their People. However, he was still wrong to not let her know about his plans. She admits she had been busy for the past several suns, rarely spending her mornings offering her time with her family to really know what Jake was up to, but it was not justifiable for him to keep her in the dark like this.
It also became evident to her as to why Jake had brought the demon to High camp. It wasn't driven by selfish desires or a longing to be with his own kind; fears she had conspired against him without evidence. No. Rather, he was trying to extract valuable information about the Sky People's plans, though as it remains, the details of such plans remained elusive to both her and Jake.
As far as she could tell, the demon did arrive bearing the concept of a peaceful treaty, an idea that stirred unease within Neytiri. She remembered one treaty from when she was a mere child. A treaty from which no word existed within her People's tongue that ultimately bore the fruit of destruction. Written words that no one could read, let alone understand, leveraged power against the People in ways that at first was seen as peaceful, but eventually tricked the People into surrendering land after land, until they were satisfied. But these people were never happy with what they took. Before long, the People had succumbed to the infection of the Sky People's greed and were driven from their ancestral hunting grounds in the vain and illusionary hope of peace. However, with this newly presented treaty, she held similar doubts, fearing it will only do the same to her People as the first one had done so many years ago. Her only belief in this treaty lay with Jake. If he believed the treaty was good for the People, then she must trust him.
But those voices of doubt soon returned to reminder her otherwise.
You do not know that.
Her ears flattened.
You have seen what they do. They kill. Destroy. Erase what belongs to us.
Neytiri looked across to the vista of the forest, knowing that was also a likely outcome if they agree with the treaty. The only hope, the only way through this mess was to find a workaround that will return power to the People and not in the hands of the pinkskins.
Exhaling a mixture of frustration and annoyance, Neytiri tightened her grip on the reins as she tried to shake off the lingering emotional turmoil from the fight with Jake. Still, she couldn't resist long enough not to look back on her life with Jake. She reminded herself that he never tried to place the People in danger, neither did he ever intentionally harmed her or the People. And in the faded yesteryear of another argument, Neytiri chastised him for training their children, telling him that they were not prepared to be warriors. But he insisted, believing that one day, his people of the sky will return. Of course she did not believe him then. Sensing that he himself could not shed away of his former life—of this 'Marine'. And of all the people he needed the most, she was not there for him.
He does not deserve the burden of my cruel hatred. She tried to tell herself. He was only trying to help.
He is of the Sky. The voice of doubt echoed. Of their people, their kind. Do not believe him.
In the midst of her internal turmoil, Neytiri grappled with the question of trust. Should she believe in herself or put her faith in Jake? The conflicting emotions tore at her heart, threatening to splinter it in two. Just as she was lost in this battle of thoughts, her ikran let out a sharp shriek, urging her attention to the right-hand side. There, across the vast expanse of the mountains, loomed the ominous gloom of clouds straddling the horizon. A colossal storm, unlike anything she had ever seen in her entire life, dominated the landscape. From one end to the other, its reach seemed boundless, casting an eerie veil of death upon the entire horizon.
She could easily see the sporadic explosive blooms of light flashing behind the shroud of black clouds. Various colors of blueish-white glow, excited by the xenon in the air, ribbon from underneath its belly, seeking to strike the ground with the ferocity of unknowable gods. The enormity of the storm's scale was both magnificent and tremendously terrifying, even to Neytiri, who had witnessed her world's breathtaking wonders and fearsome dangers plenty of times before. But this? She was certain that going into this storm to reach the Tipani would prove to be fatal. A moment of scared hesitancy hiccupped into her throat, pleading with her not to do it. The thought of retreating to camp seemed tempting, but a persistent voice urged her to keep pushing forward.
No one is coming for the Tipani, that voice said.
Her hair whiplashed behind her head as she assumed a defensive posture over her ikran. Her heart pounded rapidly in her chest, pumping into her ears as she knew they were now the only ones to reach the Tipani before the storm arrived. Everyone's survival now depended on Neytiri. But to fight her way to their position would require her to use all her experience and expertise to navigate her way through the monstrous tempest.
Her ikran, sensing the emotional determination flooding through tsaheylu, chirped, acknowledging her intentions.
"Thank you," she said, patting his neck again.
Looking ahead, the urgency to reach them grew with every beat of her ikran's wings.
One Hour Later
Jake and the rest of the fleet had finally reached the outer-edge of the Hallelujah Mountains when the storm started to choke the skies with the oppressive layer of clouds, blotting both the sun and the gas giant from view. The once humid temperatures were now subdued by the cold overcast that hung over their heads. Crackles of lightning brilliantly flashed around them, warning them to return home.
She has to be here, Jake thought. Pushing down on his throat mike, he tried again to reach his mate.
"Neytiri!" Jake cried over the radio.
Static.
"N-o -se J-ke," reported pilot Stevenson over the radio from within the Untouchable. And although his voice was difficult to make out, Jake understood what he was saying.
"She's out here!" Jake yelled.
"Ou- rad-os a-e dying. O-r las- re-ort-d contact with High Camp was fi-e minutes ago and -his storm is only ge-ing bigger. We'-e… we're goi-g to be in the blind h-re soon."
"Doesn't matter. Keep trying."
A few seconds of tense silence passed before the pilot responded: "Wilco."
The Marine grunted, his hand slipping away from the mike. Regret gnawed at him as his mind played those same old tricks again, wishing he had listened to her and found a way to convince Neytiri to stay or, at the very least, admit her plans so Jake could have helped her with the Tipani. But as he stared at the dark maelstrom, fear, like a bullet wound, penetrated what was left of his hope and intensified his guilt beyond what was known. He knew Neytiri had to be in that storm, but the haunting images of her death continued to impale him with panic.
He had to find her and soon.
As the high winds buffeted their banshees, Bob found himself weaving side-to-side, trying to maintain control and balance while Jake leaned against his body, attempting to reduce drag. Glancing back to the others, Jake noticed the Omatikaya riders were struggling to keep up with him, except for the Samson's. Ancient vehicles designed for quick insertions whose airframe were more than capable of handling themselves in the hurricane-like storm. They were doing fine. But the Omatikaya riders? They weren't. Slowing Bob down, Jake then took up position beside the other riders as he exchanged a reassuring expression with each of them.
Despite this confidence in their Olo'eyktan, not all was well. Inside the Vanquish, Amanti began to regret her decision to come along as she glanced through the door entryway, finding only faint and fleeting glimpses of the jungle below, everything she knew about it slowly being consumed by the drowning downpour of the rain. Such was this experience that it reinforced Amanti's opinion about the Sky People and their beasts. Swearing from ever going on one again. But more so, it made her appreciate the ease of flying on the backs of their ikrans, where she had greater control and would have greater visibility than being stuck in the belly of this creature. She held on as the animal shuddered violently against the winds, avenging her opinion about it as the Samson tackled against the strong headwinds coming from the storm. When the beast settled momentarily, she quickly returned to tying her hair, securing the braids from flinging about with the motion. After that, she reached up and touched the strange threaded fiber with bits of metal on it. They called it a throat microphone but the latter of the two words were undecipherable to her. Let alone how they functioned. She simply knew that it allowed her to communicate with others, including her People once she got close enough to do so. One of the dreamwalkers at High Camp had instructed her on how to use it, and figuring this was the best time, she decided to test it out.
They told her that she first must use a switch on a device that they gave her that was currently attached to the hip of her tewng. Threads that felt equally strange under her fingers and skin, snaked up over her back and beneath several of her beads before looping around her ear. They would have offered her the wireless variant, but knowing wireless interfaces didn't do so well in a plasma storm, the opted her to use the wired version, which, annoyingly, scratched at her skin. The switch, she felt, see-sawed between able to talk or not. Though she wasn't absolutely sure which of the switches allowed her to talk. Believing now was the time to do so, she applied pressure to one side and heard a strange responsive noise emitted from the piece in her ear. Of course, being Na'vi and never having to deal with such evil things, her ears flattened as she yanked the earpiece out. Once she felt there was no imminent danger, she picked up the dangling earpiece from her chest and cautiously attempted to fit it back into her ear.
Next, she recalled hearing about the need to press her fingers against the metal discs encircling her throat. With great hesitancy, wondering if it would truly work, she located the discs and gently pressed down. A beep sounded through her earpiece.
"Kxì?"
"Kal-xì, Ol-'eykte Aman-i!" Someone on the other end responded warmly but their words were chopped up.
At the same time, Amanti became instantly startled by the words entering her ear. She instinctively yanked the earpiece out again. Left to dangle over her chest, she waited, wondering if new words will enter her ear. But when they didn't, she peered over to the strange device and examined it curiously. Holding it up to eye level, she couldn't fathom how something so small could produce speech. It had no face, no mouth, and no soul. For a good minute, Amanti hesitated to put it back, but when a clap of thunder flashed between the fleet, she hurriedly slipped the earpiece back in.
"Who was that?" She called out over the radio.
"I a- Ka'ani, -lo'eykte A-anti," came the responsive voice over the radio. "Do not fret, t-is is workin-. We can hear -ou loud an- clear."
Her tail smacked against the seat. "I cannot hear you."
Still, no answer came. After several seconds, she recalled what the dreamwalker had taught her and pressed on the two pressure points of the throat mike. "Brother. I cannot hear you."
Just then, a banshee swooped in close to the Samson. It was Ninat, the Omatikaya singer. She waved to Amanti and gestured to her ear, indicating that they could indeed hear her.
As Amanti tried once more to communicate, she only heard static through her earpiece. Ninat then motioned with her hands, indicating that they could no longer hear her. Amanti attempted again, but to no avail. A look of concern spread across her features as she felt desperate to communicate. Suddenly, one of the pilots over the local radio tuned in and said,
"Sorry ma'am. Radios are dead. The storm is interfering with them," the pilot explained in Na'vi, though with an obvious Sky People accent. Amanti couldn't fully grasp the concept of a radio, but she assumed the pilot referred to her device. Nodding to herself in understanding, she settled back in her seat and patiently waited until they landed.
Outside, the metal ikran, along with the rest of the fleet, ventured deeper into the heart of the storm. The turbulence only intensified from here on out, causing the Samson to shake violently as the winds unpredictably surged around the metal beast.
"If this is how the Sky People flew around," Amanti mused, her tone shaking with fear. "Then they are truly cursed with intelligence!"
At the same time, the banshees gracefully spread out in the air, skillfully avoiding collisions with one another while maintaining the same altitude as Jake and the Samson's.
"Stay close!" Jake called out over the radio. "I don't want to lose anyone!"
Various acknowledging beeps were heard. Jake then banked to the right. He could barely see ahead and started to descend closer to the jungle, hoping to use the river as a navigation marker to make his way to the Tipani camp.
"C'mon Neytiri, please be there. Please," Jake pleaded, fear evident in his voice as he clung to the hope of finding her safe and sound amid the storm.
High Camp
"Be absolutely careful. This thing is carrying scientific equipment!" Samantha grunted as they hauled the final container to the rocky column.
Asher, sweating and clenching his jaw, gently placed the container down next to the others. The ache of his back reminded him to stretch next time than act as though the avatar could handle something as simple as moving containers around. Massaging the area, he glanced over to Samantha and quipped, "Don't you guys believe in a forklift? We must've carried at least a ton of equipment over here."
The avatar stood back up and wiped her forehead before letting out another laugh. "Not out here, we don't. We like to do things stupid and hard." She paused, looked at him seriously, then chuckled. "I swear you UNE guys are dumber than the RDA."
Asher's face betrayed a subtle frown in spite of the stoic exterior he often tried to portray. Somehow, the notion of being deemed dumber than the RDA struck a nerve, poking at his thin-skinned sensibilities.
"Let's turn that frown upside down, shall we?" Samantha said, playfully pointing to his face as she walked past him. "Come. We gotta clear the avatar quarters before they bring the Tipani."
Walking together, Asher, ever curious about the Na'vi now that he was embedded at High Camp and feeling more comfortable around Samantha, began asking questions. "So, who are the Tipani?"
She gestured to the Na'vi with different attire from the Omatikaya. "They're a clan from the forest. Same forest as the Omatikaya, just a little ways away. The Omatikaya are so named because they build flutes. These slender, tall flutes that they use for ceremonial purposes. Completely peaceful bunch, though on occasion, they get into fights with their neighbors. One of them is the Tipani. Unlike the Omatikaya, who like to dabble in the occasional rock band aesthetics. The Tipani are hardened badasses. Warriors. Like yourself."
"Former," Asher corrected, a touch of humility in his response.
"Ah, were you a Marine like Jake?" Sam inquired; her curiosity piqued.
Asher shook his head but couldn't contain his grin. "Army. Rangers. Combat medic. Deployed to several fronts during the Pan-Pacific War."
"Never heard of it," Samantha sheepishly admitted.
"It was during the time Jake was here on Pandora," Asher clarified. "It was between the coalition forces and the greater East Asia co-prosperity sphere. You might've heard about them."
She shook her head. "Nope. I arrived to this rock the same time as Dr. Augustine did. I'm what they call an elder. Which means I have not a lick of an idea of what's happening back on Earth. Neither do I care. Pandora is my home."
Asher examined her features briefly before saying bluntly, "you don't look like it."
"Like what?" She asked teasingly, "Old?"
"Yeah," he admitted with a laugh, "Old."
"The avatars are like the Na'vi," she explained, "they age slower than humans. Which means I got some streaks going through my hair in my real body while this body is probably closer in line with being in my mid-thirties."
"Huh," Asher mumbled, contemplating on the age of his own avatar. "Does that mean?"
Sam nodded. "Your avatar is roughly twenty-four physically. Give or take. I don't know if they improved them or not but considering you don't have eyebrows," she pointed to his face. "That means they did. But technically, your avatar is six years old. Physically, early twenties. Mentally? Heh."
No eyebrows. He thought, pecking at the ridgeline with a finger. Meanwhile, Samantha's avatar exhibited human features such as the pointy nose and obviously smaller eyes. Suggesting her avatar was of an older generation.
Curiosity sparked in her eyes as she couldn't resist asking this next question: "Have you ever killed anyone before, Ranger?"
"That's bold," Asher said, taken aback by the directness of the question from someone he barely knew. But he looked at her for a moment, contemplating how to answer truthfully. "But… yeah."
"Sorry to hear that," Sam said with a hint of sympathy.
"Why do you ask?"
With a thoughtful shrug, Sam gazed off into the canopy ahead. "So. A combat medic and a killer? Doesn't the Geneva convention prevent you guys from fighting? I mean... yeah, just curious how someone like you can take another person's life while trying to help others."
"Well, Jake did—kill people that is." Asher pointed out, trying to add some perspective.
"He did it to protect the Na'vi, not because the government ordered him to. But I can't imagine pointing a gun at another human or a Na'vi and saying, 'time to die', as though it's just another casual Monday, sipping tea," she argued, leading him beneath one of the drapes as they entered the canopy tent.
"Have you ever killed anyone?" Asher asked of her as he stepped beside her from beneath the drape.
"No."
He leaned in, his expression serious yet caring. "Good," he said, allowing a few moments of silence to pass before continuing. "Then I hope you never do."
Their eyes briefly locked, an unspoken understanding passing between them. She didn't feel threatened by his response, but she realized that perhaps, it wasn't her place to make such opinionated comments so openly. Still, it was her opinion, and she had felt compelled to express it. However, after a while, she humbly acknowledged that she had been in the wrong.
"Okay," she said, glancing at the cots around them. "Looks like they already did the heavy work and moved their stuff. We just need to set up the cots and make sure they're clean."
"Roger," Asher replied.
As they began opening up the cots, a whistle echoed through the air. It was Norm.
"Hey Sam, we need you for a sec!" he called out, waving for her attention.
Smiling, Sam looked over at Asher. "You got it from here?"
"Yup," he assured her.
"Sweet. I'll be right back."
Left to provide the sheets alone, Asher hardly noticed what he was doing until he took a step back, hands resting at his waist as an unexpected realization dawned upon him. This simple task, devoid of high-stakes decisions or military complexities, had given him a moment of respite from having to overthink anything too hard, and it felt oddly liberating to just help the Na'vi without having the tip of a spear poking at his neck.
"Urgh," Asher quietly massaged his neck, feeling a twinge of pain radiating from the wound that the bandage covered. The constant reminder of the dangers he faced on Pandora seemed to echo in the ache, a sharp contrast to the temporary peace he had just found in this small moment of mundane chores.
Within that same moment, the pressing matters of Jake's revolution faded into the background. No more was he having to remind himself that he was among the so-called 'enemy's camp'. No longer did he have to look around, hoping some dangerous creature didn't lunge out at him. Hell, he almost forgot he was among the Na'vi when he sat on one of the cot's, testing out the firmness of the mattress beneath him. Somehow, it felt… right. Not the bed. That was fine. But he wasn't in danger. Neither by the Na'vi or the RDA or anyone else for that matter. It was peaceful. Though, as peaceful as it got considering everyone running back and forth, trying to get ready for the arrival of the Tipani. But it was still far more peaceful than any urban craphole on Earth. In some regards, Asher was just happy to help, to be present in this simple act of assistance with the Na'vi. To be useful again.
Is this the avatar I'm sensing? Asher thought momentarily as he stood back up, realizing he was getting too comfortable here. Get a grip of yourself, Rayan! He told himself. It was lunacy to ever believe it could be this peaceful. But in this moment, amid the bustling preparations, he allowed himself to savor the fleeting sense of serenity, knowing that eventually, he would need to return to being the diplomat everyone hated.
Moving about, he meticulously inspected each cot, pressing his hands against the mattresses to ensure they met the standards he was familiar with from his army days. He also couldn't help but ponder whether the Na'vi found comfort in sleeping on mattresses and cotton, given their unique way of life. He suspected they probably didn't like beds since they wore loincloths which didn't seem all that comfortable to wear.
Or maybe they never had a chance to sleep on a good, cushioned mattress before, he argued.
After inspecting the last cot, Asher took a step back and waited for Sam to return. As he glanced around, wondering if there was food around, he noticed a pair of Na'vi standing by the entrance, their eyes fixed on him with curious intensity. One of them even carried something in their arms, their posture suggesting they were not entirely comfortable with his presence.
Determined not to escalate any potential conflict, Asher raised his hands in a peaceful gesture, signaling that he meant no harm. He then slowly backed away towards the rear of the canopy, maintaining eye contact with the Na'vi, and keeping his expression neutral.
"Don't make eye contact," he recalled the warning. Gritting his teeth, he dropped his gaze to the floor, trying not to appear confrontational. Despite his efforts, one of the Na'vi started to approach him.
"Shit," Asher whispered under his breath. His eyes darted around, desperately searching for an escape route, but his damn Na'vi tail had a mind of its own. Flicking nervously from side to side, it smacked against other objects as he tried to move away. Annoyed by this fact, he grabbed the tail with one hand and continued backing away. She, however, was only getting closer to him.
In a moment of panic and desperation, he attempted to back away from her, but instead of escaping gracefully like a professional thief, he bumped into a drawer he had forgotten to put back when they moved the cots into their place. The loud thud echoed through the room as he stumbled and fell to the side, landing awkwardly on the floor. His face flushed with embarrassment as he cursed himself for being this damn clumsy.
The woman, observing the scene in silence, wasn't sure what to make of this demon.
"I'm alright!" He quickly assured everyone—though there wasn't anyone else other than her—as he scrambled back onto his own two feet. Glancing across to her, he saw that she was still standing there, her expression strewn with bafflement, possibly wondering how a demon that was feared among her People, could be this… stupid.
In an instant, recognition hit him like a bolt of lightning as he gazed into that unmistakable golden eye he had seen from last night. It was her—the daughter of Amanti. Dumbstruck, Asher couldn't help but study her face, amazed that she almost looked like her mother. But before he became too aware of what he was doing, he spun around, and made his way out of the canopy. It was there that he stood by the central pole of the canopy with hands clasped behind his back, trying to appear innocent in case anyone noticed the brief exchange.
"What was that demon doing?" her brother, Tsmupxa, asked, his vigilant gaze fixed on the back of the demon.
Kxeyìn glanced at her brother and unconsciously twitched her lips. "It is probably sick in the head," she explained.
Gently placing the leather pouch on one of the cots, Kxeyìn carefully unrolled it, revealing a vibrant assortment of flower petals, wooden needles, and dried fruits. With meticulous precision, she arranged them in an order that only made sense to her, counting each item to ensure she had enough for everyone.
"Do you believe there will be wounded?" she asked her older brother.
His eyes lingered on the various flower petals as he picked one up and studied it.
"No," he replied thoughtfully, setting the petal down. He softened his expression and reassured her, "You will do well, sister."
"How do you know?" Kxeyìn's tail swayed cautiously. "The only one I have helped was Vokan, remember his scratch?"
He grinned, nodding, "Yes, but your skills are becoming even greater, and I have no doubt you will handle whatever comes your way."
"It was too small," she noted carefully in a hushed whisper, feeling a touch embarrassed to have helped a seasoned warrior like Vokan recover from a mere scratch that barely drew blood.
Tsmupxa tenderly ran his hand through her hair, gently pushing the strands away from her eyes. "He was still appreciative of your kindness that you showed him, Kxeyìn," he reassured her.
"Fmilam has been teaching me but…" she felt lost with her words as she tried to continue. "I do not know if I am ready when our People return with serious wounds."
"I do not believe there will be any serious injury." Tsmupxa replied confidently.
"You are sure of this?" she asked, seeking reassurance in his eyes.
Tsmupxa nodded. "Mother is with our People. She will do everything she can to protect them."
Kxeyìn nodded along with her brother's words when Sam returned back from the science shack.
"Great news!" The avatar beamed, her grin stretching from ear to ear. "One of the Samson's is working!"
Asher glanced around and shrugged, looking puzzled. "I don't know how that's good news for me."
"That's because you're still thinking like a UNE rat," she said, tapping her head mockingly at him. "But with a third Samson working means we can go rescue some Tipani. How about that, huh? Heroes. I'm tellin' ya."
"Okay," Asher added, unsure how this factors with him.
"Alright, did you finish cleaning the cots?" she asked as she entered the canopy. But to her surprise, there stood Kxeyìn and Tsmupxa by one of the cots. Caught off guard, she quickly switched to their native tongues to greet them.
They returned the greeting with immense respect. Apparently, after learning her name, it sounded awfully close to 'war' in their tongue, and as such, they thought she was a great warrior. Who else would name themselves war if it were not for the fact that Tsam must have killed many in her time?
"I see you, Tsam." Kxeyìn greeted.
"I see you, Kxeyìn," Sam said. "I did not expect you or your brother to be here."
Kxeyìn allowed a small smile to grace her features. "Yes. Mother is with Olo'eyktan Tsyeyk Suli. She wanted us to remain behind. To prepare for our People's return."
Samantha looked over the cot, finding the leather pouch. Pointing at it, she asked, "is this what you will use for healing?"
Kxeyìn nodded. "It is."
Sam shared one of her famous grins. "Good. I am proud of you, Kxeyìn."
Kxeyìn's ears lowered. She never expected a dreamwalker would offer praise to her. It felt unnatural, especially given she had only known Sam for two weeks now.
"We can use your help here. You and your brother."
Tsmupxa made a clicking noise and pointed to the demon. "What is it doing here?"
Sam looked over to Asher and explained. "That demon is here to help us."
"No. It is not allowed to help," Tsmupxa argued.
Sam, glancing back to the taller brother of Kxeyìn and offered something between a faint smile and apologetic nod. "I understand. But we do need his help."
"The Tipani do not need the help of a demon, Tsam."
"Today, we do. But once today is finished. He will return to his home."
Tsmupxa reflexively let out a sigh then turned away before leaning to Kxeyìn. "When you are finished talking with Tsam. Come find me by the marui."
"Yes. I will."
Glancing back to Tsam, Kxeyìn offered an apologetic bow of her head. "Forgive me, Tsam. My brother does not trust either the demon or you."
Sam held her smile. "That is fine. I get that a lot anyways."
Kxeyìn pivoted, her curiosity piqued by the unfamiliar bed. Tentatively, she ran her hand across the fine, smooth sheets, feeling the oddly soft texture under her fingers. It was a stark contrast to the rugged simplicity of her Tipani hammock and solid ground. "I have never laid on one," she remarked, her voice filled with intrigue.
Sam leaned in, her eyes gleaming with mischief, and gestured for Kxeyìn to sit on the bed. "Then try it out!"
Kxeyìn looked hesitant, as if unsure whether she should indulge in this foreign luxury.
"Go ahead! Try it!" Sam insisted, her excitement infectious.
With cautious steps, Kxeyìn moved the leather pouch and slowly lowered herself onto the cot. When the cot whined under her weight, she lifted herself up, but Sam motioned that it was perfectly fine by demonstrating herself sitting on a cot across from her.
"See? It is perfectly fine!" Said Sam.
A part of her couldn't shake the feeling that it might be a trap. But when nothing happened, Kxeyìn settled into the softness, savoring the comfort beneath her.
"Is this how Sky People sleep?" Kxeyìn asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.
"Yes," Sam replied, a hint of pride in her voice. "We try to make our lives as comfortable as possible."
Kxeyìn frowned thoughtfully, running her hands over the bed. "That is terrible," she stated seriously as she found herself enjoying the unusual luxury of the cot.
After a while, Kxeyìn stood back up and returned the leather back to its rightful spot. "My People might not enjoy it, but," she turned to face Sam again. "This will do. I thank you, Tsam."
Samantha rose to her feet and offered a warm smile. "You are welcome, Kxeyìn."
Northern Forest of Ayram Alusìng — Fifteen Minutes Later
The rain hammered against them, stinging like pebbles in a wild windstorm, leaving bruises in its wake. Jake instinctively bowed his head, trying to shield himself from the torrential downpour. "Anything?" he cried over the radio to the pilot, his voice barely audible amidst the storm's fury.
"Y-s si-! Dead hea-! We're -icking -p Neytiri's t-roat mike. It's pinging five-by-five!" Came the pilot's response.
A sigh of relief escaped Jake's lips along with a whispered prayer before tightening his grip on the reins. "Stevenson, you're gonna need to guide me 'cause I can't see crap out here!"
"Wilco!"
In the heart of the raging squall, a sudden flash of lightning cracked across the sky, briefly revealing the wild jungles below. Stevenson's calm voice echoed through the chaos, guiding Jake with unwavering confidence through the treacherous storm. Each passing moment seemed to intensify the winds, and even the bond with his banshee, Bob, couldn't shield Jake from the creature's palpable fear. Undeterred, Jake held firm, channeling his own determination into steadying Bob against the relentless headwinds. Together, rider and ikran fought to stay aloft, defying the fury of an unrelenting maelstrom.
"Six klicks!" Yelled Stevenson over the radio.
The winds howled around them, making Bob more difficult to control with each kilometer they ventured deeper into the heart of the storm. "F-ve klicks!" Stevenson updated.
With the protective visor shielding his eyes from the storm's ferocity, Jake guided Bob to descend even closer to the forest canopy. The relentless winds and downpour of rain, however, made it increasingly difficult to assess what lay ahead, but when he caught a glimpse of fleeting greenery rushing below them, he quickly adjusted and brought Bob up a little higher.
"Tu-n left," Stevenson crackled through the earpiece.
Following the instructions, Jake expertly steered Bob to the left.
"Four kl-cks!"
Within the tumultuous heart of the storm, a searing bolt of lightning found its target in a nearby tree, igniting a mesmerizing explosion of sparks that briefly bathed Jake and Bob. And just as quickly as they were engulfed by the sparks, they flew out with dazzling display of skill as the sparks faded into the storm.
"That was too close!" Jake yelled, feeling the tension in Bob's movements mirroring his own fear.
"Three klic-s!"
Howling winds prevented Jake from hearing any cries for help, and as he grew closer to the ground, the wind began to sound like a roaring angry beast.
"T-o klicks!"
Almost there, Neytiri.
"O-e k-icks!"
Bob's wings beat fiercely, trying valiantly to maintain balance amid the relentless assault of turbulent winds. It was becoming clear to the both of them that staying in this storm for too long would be perilous, putting them at the mercy of nature's unforgiving fury.
"We're rig-t on to-!"
The forest briefly gave way to a small gap, but neither Jake nor did Bob see anyone as Jake flew overhead.
"I don't see them!"
The Samson jolted as plasmatic lightning flashed right in front of them. "Holy shit that was close!"
Adjusting his headset, Stevenson looked back at the flickering map on the console. The storm's violent interference made it nearly unrecognizable, but he was fortunate that their throat microphones operated on a VLF frequency of three kHz instead of the standard HF used by their regular radios. If Neytiri had her throat mike on, they would only be able to communicate if Jake got close enough to pick up her frequency. But as Stevenson tapped on the console, the red blip continued to see that they were in fact at the right spot.
"J-ke," Stevenson called out. "I'm -oing to circl- our bird -rou-d the -rea."
"Okay, but we need to land our banshees. They can't handle any more of this," Jake replied.
"Understood."
With a firm grip on the flight stick, Stevenson skillfully guided the Untouchable to the relative calm of a forest clearing. Despite the reduced turbulence at this altitude, he knew better than to rely solely on luck. Holding onto the flight stick tightly, he maintained steady control over the Samson. Stevenson then glanced out to his left, spotting what seemed to be remnants of a camp but no sign of the Na'vi.
"I do-t see them," Stevenson reported. "I s- the camp b- not them."
Jake's ears flattened. If they were able to pick up Neytiri's throat mike here then—
Steering Bob towards a landing, Jake landed him with the other riders following suit. Without hesitation, the Marine leaped off of Bob and dashed towards the central area of the camp, hoping against hope that Neytiri was safe.
Please don't be a body, please don't be a body.
"Neytiri!" He shouted against the screaming wind. "Neytiri!"
Ka'ani, Ninat, and Peyral rushed up behind him, joining in the desperate call for Neytiri. But there was no answer, only the howling wind in response. In the midst of the raging storm, panic swelled within Jake, dangerously teetering him on the precipice of fear. He desperately scanned the area for any sign of Neytiri but the howling wind and lashing rain made his search even more difficult.
Covering his face with his arm, he braced the thrashing of twigs, tree branches, and leaves. Yet, there was no sign of Neytiri or the Tipani. They weren't here. Time was slipping away, and the storm showed no signs of relenting.
Just when hope seemed to fade, Ka'ani's voice slashed through the savagery of the winds, "I found something!" Eagerly, the trio rushed over to him, following the direction of his pointing finger.
It was Neytiri's throat microphone. Kneeling beside it, Jake scooped it up and notice it was torn at the edges. But alongside the throat mike were footprints embedded in the mud. They appear to lead off into the forest.
Standing up, his hair flailing in the ferocious wind, Jake clutched Neytiri's throat microphone tightly. "Stay here!" he commanded, but his determined resolve couldn't quell the fear in his voice.
"But Olo'eyktan!" cried Ninat, attempting to grab his arm, but he was too quick. With resolute steps, Jake disappeared into the heart of the forest, leaving the others behind in the tumultuous storm.
With adrenaline coursing through his veins, Jake navigated the treacherous forest, agilely avoiding incoming obstacles as he ran at full speed. The storm's raging fury made it a gauntlet from hell, with lightning threatening to strike the trees or the ground at any moment. But he had no time to fear the elements; his sole focus was on finding Neytiri.
Back in the clearing, Peyral gestured for the Samson to land. As they touched down, she approached Amanti, who was seated in the Vanquish. "Olo'eykte Amanti!" Peyral shouted over the howling winds. "Olo'eyktan Tsyeyk Suli is currently looking for your People and Neytiri! It is best that you remain here!"
Amanti refused and unshackled herself from the seat. Leaping out, she walked over to where Ka'ani, Ninat, Saeyla, and the rest of the Omatikaya riders were located. Despite the ruthless assault of rain that was never ending, she appeared undeterred by the pain.
"Where is the Olo'eyktan?" She demanded.
Ka'ani pointed off in the direction where Jake took off running to.
"Then remain here. I will be back," Amanti instructed before dashing into the forest.
Now, they had two lost clan leaders. The day was turning from bad to tragic, and uncertainty loomed over the expressions of everyone huddled around the center of camp.
"Neytiri!" Jake's voice reverberated through the raging storm as he cupped his hands around his mouth, trying to pierce through the deafening downpour. His heart raced as he moved forward, his eyes frantically scanning the area beneath the visor. The unrelenting rain drenched everything, creating a flooding chaos while bolts of raging lightning struck all around him.
With adrenaline pumping through his veins, Jake sucked in a breath and yelled again, "Neytiri!" But there was no answer.
Frustration and fear gnawed at him as he continued to move ahead, desperate to find any sign of her or the Tipani. The relentless storm made it hard to distinguish anything, and Jake worried he might be running in circles or inadvertently getting lost.
Time seemed to stretch on forever, and a suffocating lump formed in Jake's throat as desperation gripped him. "Neytiri!" His voice wavered between anger and fear, as if the intensity of his emotions could summon her back to him.
"Where the hell is she?!" His frustration echoed through the storm. He spun around, his heart pounding in his chest, scanning the rain-soaked surroundings for any sign of her. But the forest offered no solace, no indication of where she might be. His mind raced of the possibilities that she could be lost, hurt, or…
No!
Jake was not about to give up.
But if he was lost, then so was she and the rest of the Tipani. Their only hope was him finding her.
Taking off into an unknown direction, guided by instinct, he traversed further into the forest, battling against plasmatic lighting that singed the air and burned the atmosphere. He navigated through the treacherous terrain, leaping over fallen logs, ducking under overgrown roots, and pushing through thick foliage. The relentless storm fought against his every move, but he pressed forward, driven by his desperate need to see Neytiri one more time. Just… one more time. As he ran, he struggled to catch his breath, his lungs burning with exertion. But he couldn't afford to slow down. He had to find her; he had to bring her back to safety.
"Ne-," he stopped, gathered his strength and shouted, "Neytiri!"
Nothing.
Then.
"Jeyk!"
His ears stood up and his tail flicked. Her voice echoed all around. "Neytiri, where are you?!"
"Jeyk!"
He strained his ears, his senses on high alert, trying to pinpoint the origin of her calls. Every fiber of his being was focused on finding her, on ensuring she was safe. He followed the voice, but against the wind that was louder than guns going off, he was having a hard time locating the origins of her voice. "Neytiri!"
"Jeyk!" Neytiri's voice echoed all around, seeming to come from all directions. They called out for each other with unwavering determination, and against all odds, it felt like they were getting closer. Through the blinding storm, Neytiri spotted Jake's silhouette and her heart leaped with joy.
"Jeyk! Ma Jeyk!"
Jake spun and quickly ran up to her. As they finally embraced, it felt like the storm had no power over them. Their love was a force stronger than any fight, any doubt, and any fear. But their moment of reunion was cut short as the rest of the Tipani arrived, safe and sound. They looked exhausted, afraid, and drenched.
"This is all of them?" Jake asked to Neytiri. She nodded, smiling like Neytiri again as she hugged him one more time, tightly this time and with a kiss to his cheek.
"All right, let's go!" Just as Jake turned around, another flash of lightning caused him to go momentarily blind and deaf. Stumbling backwards, Neytiri slipped in the mud to catch Jake before he struck the ground. Glancing down to him, she smiled, and while he didn't notice it, a tear fell from her cheek, blending with the rain.
"I got you," she told him. Helping him up, Jake shook his head and looked around, checking to ensure everyone was all right. But as he tried to regain his bearings a second time, he realized he didn't know where he was or how to get out of here.
Amidst the roaring storm, as if summoned by a mythic force, Amanti emerged, a fierce warrior undeterred by the relentless rain, unfazed by the fear that now plagued everyone. "Olo'eyktan Tsyeyk Suli!" Her voice shouted through the tempest, commanding attention to her. "We must leave, immediately!"
"Irayo, Olo'eykte!" Jake said as helped Neytiri to move ahead. "I am glad you found us!" Jake yelled out to Amanti.
The woman grinned. "And I am glad you have found my People, Olo'eyktan."
With a quick headcount to ensure that everyone was accounted for, Amanti took off, her swift steps slicing through the mud. The rain continued to pound on them, but Amanti's determination remained unwavering. With her keen eyes searching the trees, she followed the marks she had left on the trunks with her knife that eventually led the group out of the labyrinthine forest.
A cheer erupted from the Omatikaya People, mingling with the relentless downpour as they rushed to aid the Tipani. Amidst the commotion, Neytiri and Jake looked at each other, and in that moment, all the fear and worry they had held in check was finally broken. With tears in her eyes, Neytiri embraced him tightly, holding on to him as if she never wanted to let go.
"I am sorry, ma Jeyk!" she whispered into his ear.
"No," he replied, gently wiping away her tears. "I am sorry. I should have—"
She shook her head. "No-no, I—" Was there really any real words she could say? She cupped his face and brought him closer, hoping to find out.
"Neytiri," he said beneath the downpour. He held her close, cherishing the warmth of her body.
"Jeyk," she breathed against his skin.
In the midst of the cascading rain, they locked eyes, understanding each other without the need for words. Trembling from the cold and adrenaline, Jake gently lifted her chin.
"I will always find you," Jake declared, "no matter where you go. I will find you."
"I know, ma Jeyk," Neytiri said warmly, "I know."
Peyral stood discreetly to the side, not wanting to intrude on their intimate moment. As the minute passed, Jake blinked and turned his attention to Peyral.
"Are we ready?" he inquired.
"Yes, Olo'eyktan," Peyral confirmed.
With a determined nod, Jake replied, "Then let's go home!"
"My People!" Amanti's voice rang out, filled with both authority and humility. "Forgive me as your Olo'eykte but I request that some of you fly in the metal ikrans. There is not enough ikrans for everyone and with this storm, it is safer in there."
The Tipani exchanged glances, knowing that Amanti herself must have ridden the metal ikran to reach them safely. Though hesitant at first, a few brave souls stepped forward. Their courage inspired others, and soon, a total of eighteen volunteers came forward to ride the metal ikran.
Nodding to them, she picked them out, remembering they could only have so many aboard.
Before abandoning Hell's Gate, Jake had given specific instructions to the pilots to prioritize the CH-2 over the SA-2 for transporting cargo and passengers to the Hallelujah Mountains. At that time, it seemed like a practical decision since the SA-2 had limited space in the rear and passenger compartments. However, as Stevenson nervously observed the approaching Na'vi surrounding both CH-2s, he began to wonder if they could handle the weight.
Each Samson was now tasked with carrying ten Na'vi passengers, which would undoubtedly push them to their limits. Stevenson's mind raced with concerns about the helicopter's capabilities and whether it could safely transport the Na'vi without compromising their safety. The pressure of the situation weighed heavily on his shoulders as he understood the responsibility of ensuring everyone's well-being.
"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon." Pilot Stevenson said nervously of the scene with the Na'vi. He exchanged anxious glances with his co-pilot when they both saw the storm above them beginning to swirl, a clear sign that a tornado was going to form right on top of them if they don't leave now.
Reluctantly, the Tipani began boarding both Samson's, one by one. As they settled inside the aircraft, Stevenson and the Vanquish pilot initiated the necessary procedures to prepare for takeoff.
Meanwhile, the banshees were proving to be uncooperative. Many of them refused to let the Tipani mount them. However, when the Omatikaya mounted the banshees and conveyed reassuring thoughts, the ikran's resistance began to fade, and they allowed the Tipani to ride them. The weight of the additional passengers was undoubtedly going to be a challenge, but they had little choice in the face of the storm. Now they waited on Jake.
"Where's your ikran?" Jake asked Neytiri with concern etched on his face.
"He flew off when the winds became too much," she replied, her voice underlined with concern for her ikran. But there was hope: "He's probably at camp."
"Okay, then you're going to be with me." Taking her hand, he led her to Bob. Neytiri smiled and patted Bob's neck reassuringly. When Jake mounted and connected with Bob, he extended his hand to Neytiri.
Looking up at Jake from the muddy ground, Neytiri marveled at how far he had come. In the past, he had relied on her for help with flying his ikran, but now he was the skilled one. She felt blessed to have chosen such a capable mate to face this perilous storm with. Taking his hand, she was lifted over to join him at the rear of Bob.
"Wrap your arms around my waist," Jake reminded her. The last time she had done this was in her youth when she had not claimed an ikran of her own. Complying, she interlocked her fingers around his waist and held on tight.
Pressing in his throat mike, he directed Stevenson to lead them out.
"Wilco!" Stevenson's response echoed through the communication system. Slowly, the Samson began to lift into the air, swaying slightly as Stevenson adjusted to the strong winds.
Amidst the chaos of alarms blaring, Stevenson fought to regain control of the Untouchable. The turbulent storm threatened to send them crashing into the unforgiving forest below. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he focused all his skills on keeping the aircraft steady.
"Easy does it, easy... easy, and here... we... go!" With a determined push of the cyclic, the Untouchable's nose dipped, and in unison, Stevenson pushed the collective back, sending the Samson up with thrust, its feet barely scraping against the canopy of trees as they gained altitude.
The other ikran riders followed closely behind the Samson's, their determination to stay together evident in each of their faces in spite of the whipping winds and pelting rain. But soon enough, panic threatened to set in as they battled against the violent elements, with only the trust of their ikrans to get them out.
The winds continued to batter the brave riders, and despite their growing familiarity with the turbulence, one of them struggled to maintain control.
"Tsyeyk!" cried Ninat. It was the singer. Panic spread among the others as they witnessed Ninat's ikran spinning wildly out of control, its Tipani rider helplessly caught in the storm's grasp as he was tossed out from the momentum.
Easily recognizing the voice, Jake turned his head over his shoulder to find Ninat spiraling out of control.
"Shit!" Jake cursed as he watch Ninat's ikran vanish beneath the canopy of the unforgiving forest.
The Vanquish was just inches from escaping the storm's wrath when a violent bolt of lightning struck its rotors. The blades melted on impact and collided with the protective rim, unleashing a mechanical hellish thrash that sent sparks flying and fire erupting from the engine.
"Th- is -he Van-uish. Losing -ngine one! L-ing engine one! We- going down. I -peat, we're going down!" The pilot frantically called out over the radio.
Inside the Vanquish, Amanti and the eight other Tipani braced themselves for the impending impact. The Samson struck the unforgiving surface with a bone-shattering force, violently throwing several of the Tipani out of the vehicle. The chaos of the crash was overwhelming, with one of them tragically pierced by a renegade metal object. Amanti was knocked unconscious, her fate now unknown to Jake.
Horrified, Jake tried to steer Bob around to find them, but he knew the winds were too great.
"Amanti, Amanti, can you hear me? This is Jake!" No response.
"Everyone!" He yelled out on the radio. "Keep going! We will return to rescue them!"
"But, Ninat! Amanti!" Peyral cried, pleading to help them.
"We will come back for them!" Jake reassured, trying to quell the rising panic. He took one last heart-wrenching look over his shoulder, and through the swirling storm, he saw a plume of smoke rising, carried away by the relentless winds.
"Jeyk," Neytiri called out to him from behind.
"I know… I know."
High Camp — An Hour Later
In the heart of High Camp, an atmosphere of palpable tension hung heavy as everyone anxiously awaited the arrival of the rescue team. By the second hour, the storm had arrived over the mountains and with rain pouring relentlessly, it seemed to only pile onto the anxiety that filled the science shack. Just when it seemed like all hope was lost, Jake's voice broke through the crackling radio static, cutting through the storm. His words filled the air with a mix of relief and concern, offering a glimmer of reassurance amidst everyone's faces.
"This is Devil Dog. We're inbound to High Camp. We have several wounded. Many missing."
"Missing?" Norm repeated to Max, his heart sinking.
"Who?"
Norm picked up the headset and responded. "This is Norm, whose missing?"
"Ninat," Jake answered exhaustingly. "Amanti, the Vanquish. Possibly more. I don't know."
"Oh… God," Norm uttered chillingly.
Max's expression suggested not to share it with the Tipani, but Norm's thoughts were fracturing at a thousand feet per second.
"No, don't do it Norm."
"We gotta do something." Without saying another word to add to the debate, the scientist left the shack and out to the avatar canopy where Samantha and Asher were.
"You!" Norm shouted to Asher, his mask briefly fogging up with frustration.
The diplomat's ridgeline furrowed, unsure what he did now.
"Come with me!" Norm commanded.
Following the human, the avatar walked alongside Norm as Norm explained the situation. "We got a problem."
"What?"
"We have several missing Na'vi out there."
Asher nodded. "Okay," he said, unsure what Norm needed him to do.
Turning to the Gray Fox, Norm gestured to the Samson. "We need you to board the Gray Fox and go out there now."
The avatar's face showed confusion and hesitation, "Wait… what? I'm not—that's not—"
Norm didn't have time to explain everything. Looking up to the avatar, he shared just the necessary details. "The Samson contains navigational data to several Na'vi tribes. If the RDA gets their hands on that data, then we just put them in danger. I need you to hop on board, go there, and put in the self-destruct code."
"Why not just have the pilot do it?"
Norm sighed. He couldn't believe Asher was being this thick headed. "Because the time it takes for the pilot to leave the cockpit, put his mask on, go to the crashed Samson, put in the code, and return, anything could happen. A lightning could strike him dead. Then what? Now we have two Samsons out there that need to be destroyed."
Asher's face scrunched up in concern. "You want me to risk the avatar then?"
"Risk? C'mon dude. The avatars are built to withstand lightning strikes." He lied.
"I didn't know that," Asher said, surprised. What else could it do?
"Simple. Go in, punch in the code in the cockpit, and leave. You will have ten minutes before it explodes. Plenty of time." Norm said as he motioned Asher to follow him over by the impromptu helipad of the plateau.
"Hey, wait-wait. Why not send Sam?" Asher asked as he looked across to Sam, still talking to the Na'vi underneath the canopy.
"Because you're the only one with a network extender. Your backpack, remember? We can't go out there or we'll disconnect." Norm said, "look, we don't have time. You need to go."
Whistling to another human personnel walking by, Norm instructed them to retrieve Asher's backpack while the scientist ushered Asher over by the Gray Fox. Just as Norm looked back up to the tall avatar, he forgot another issue. "Damnit," he said. "I'll be right back! You stay here!"
"Uh-okay," Asher replied as he stood around next to the Samson.
A few minutes later, someone brought him his backpack. "Here you go," they said, handing it to Asher.
"Thanks," Asher said gratefully. Kneeling down, he checked the backpack to make sure everything was alright, ensuring the signal strength and battery power were at a hundred percent. Satisfied, he boarded the Samson and placed the backpack down between his legs.
His stomach grumbled, reminding him to quickly eat before they took off. Asher grabbed a protein bar from his backpack and quickly devoured it, hoping to quell his hunger.
Back at the avatar canopy, Norm jogged over to Sam before looking up to the Tipani woman, Kxeyìn. "Where is your brother? We need him," he said in her tongue.
Her ears folded back as her tail flicked about. "My brother is in the marui. He is trying to gather our People, to prepare them."
"Good, can you go get him please?" Norm requested politely.
Kxeyìn hesitated for a moment before agreeing and swiftly left to find her brother.
Turning back to Sam, Norm's pale face revealed his concern, though he wasn't sure how to express it. "What is it?" Sam asked, sensing his worry.
"Amanti's…" Norm paused, looking around to make sure no one else was in the vicinity to hear the conversation, and then continued in a hushed tone, "Her Samson crashed with several of the Tipani on board. Ninat is also lost."
"Amanti's," he paused, looked around, making sure no one else was in the vicinity to hear the conversation, then continued, "Her Samson crashed with several of the Tipani on board. Ninat is also lost."
Sam cupped her mouth in shock. "We gotta do something, Norm!"
"Don't worry. I have a plan. It involves your friend."
Sam looked around and spotted Asher by the Samson. "Him? No. Norm, he doesn't—"
Norm raised his hand, suggesting it was okay. "He's the only one who can operate in that storm. That backpack will keep him connected and I need him to put in the self-destruct code for the Vanquish."
"Sure but, the Na'vi. They don't like him."
Norm shrugged. "Right now, they need to put that aside."
"You can't just expect the Na'vi to put that aside, Norm. Especially not the Tipani."
Norm's expression turned serious. "They will for now."
A minute later, Kxeyìn returned with her brother.
"You requested me?" Tsmupxa asked, looking at Norm.
"Yes," Norm said, facing him. "We have a problem. Your mother and the Tipani on board the metal ikran unexpectedly crashed."
Kxeyìn gasped as Tsmupxa knelt before Norm, his gaze fixated on the pinkskin with fury boiling. "I expected as much from your kind. My mother trusted your cursed beast to take her there safely. And this is how she is to die? Not as a warrior, but as a casualty?"
Norm clenched his jaw, took a deep breath and tried to find an amicable way to say what was on his mind. "I understand."
"No! You do not!" Tsmupxa interjected, his frustration evident.
Poor choice of words. Norm then tackled the subject another way. "Tsmupxa, we are going to go help her. Right now as we speak."
Kxeyìn now stepped in. "Is there wounded?"
Norm looked at her for moment and answered, "very likely, yes."
Kxeyìn then shifted her attention to her oldest. "I need to go."
Tsmupxa rose back up, "you are not going, sister. I will go."
"No," she told him, her hand reaching to hold his arm as she slowly slipped it into his hand. "Fmilam can handle the wounded here. I will go and help our People, our mother."
Tsmupxa's annoyance at the news of the crash was evident, but he couldn't help but see the persistence in his sister's eyes. She took after their father in many ways. One of which was his bravery. Conceding, Tsmupxa reluctantly dropped his gaze and nodded his head to her. However, the fear of losing two of the most important people in his life in one day was overwhelming. He held her hand tightly, resisting the urge to let her go. But when Kxeyìn gently released herself from his hold, he knew he couldn't stop her.
Turning to Norm, her voice steady and resolute, Kxeyìn declared, "I am going."
After sharing a brief hesitant look over to the oldest of Amanti's children, Norm agreed. "Great, follow me."
Quickly moving to the cot, she rolled the leather pouch up and secured it under her arm, then, turning, she followed the determined human out to the plateau.
"Let me warn you ahead of time," Norm cautioned, "you will be riding with the demon."
Her ears stood up. "The demon? Why?"
"His job is to get to the crashed metal ikran, not to your People," Norm explained, though it didn't quite quell her concerns. Clutching the leather pouch tightly, she followed Norm to the waiting Samson. As Asher sat there, his mind racing through various scenarios of what might happen during the mission, Kxeyìn couldn't help but feel the fear of her People, the worry of her mother's life. She was going to be venturing beyond the mountains and into dangerous territory, where the storm ravaged the skies and a demon by her side. Things couldn't get any worse.
Pounding the hull of the Samson with his fist, Norm then appeared before the door entry with Kxeyìn beside him. "Asher. This is Kxeyìn, she is going to come with you to help her People."
Asher, having already met this woman twice now, found himself sighing at the idea of being with her once again. Their first meeting was sterile. The second meeting was embarrassing. A third reunion was going to spell disaster, and he quickly made an excuse for it: "I don't speak her language, Norm."
"Even better because she doesn't want to talk to you. Lemme see your arm."
There goes that excuse.
Asher, scratching the side of his face, begrudgingly extended his right arm out as Norm snatched it in his hold. Removing a permanent marker from his breast pocket, he then quickly scribbled the six-digit code.
Releasing the avatar's arm, Norm nodded to him. "So, what you need to do to initiate self-destruct is double-tap five-five and three-three. A green light directly above the keypad will blink a red, then a yellow, letting you know you have entered the self-destruct mode. Then, you put in the code. But make damn sure all the Na'vi are on board the Gray Fox before you initiate it. Understood?"
Asher peered at the numbers on his arm and nodded to him. "Yes sir."
"Excellent," turning to Kxeyìn, he motioned for her to enter the Samson.
The woman eyed the metal ikran for a moment, feeling hesitant about boarding such an offensive-looking beastly contraption. But Norm's words struck a chord within her—her mother, her People, they needed her. Gritting her teeth, she licked her lips, clutched the pouch tightly in one hand and pushed down her fear and nodded resolutely to the scientist. "Yes," she told him. Firmly gripping the handrail, she pulled herself inside.
"Asher, show her to her seat and how to buckle herself in," Norm instructed.
Asher pointed to the seat, and as soon as Kxeyìn sat down, he cleared his throat to get her attention. Speaking in English, he said, "Grab these," while demonstrating by tugging on the straps.
"Now," Asher instructed as he clipped the straps together. "Just like that."
Setting the pouch over her lap, she took hold of the same straps found on either side of her seat. It took her a moment to figure out how they worked, but when she brought the straps together, they snapped into place. She wanted to smile but resisted.
"Alright, we're good here Norm," said Asher.
"Great, just be careful out there, okay?" Norm said, giving them a final nod of encouragement.
Walking in front of the cockpit, Norm signaled that they were ready to go. The pilot, Mingxia, flashed a thumbs-up and started the engines. The powerful rotors on both sides began to spin, creating vibrations inside the hull that seemed to spook Kxeyìn.
Looking over to her, Asher could sense her unease. He wished he could communicate better with her, but besides their simple greetings, he knew little of her language. There wasn't much he could now. Returning his attention to the mission, Asher recalled Norm's instructions, repeating them over and over to reassure himself.
As the Gray Fox lifted off the ground, Kxeyìn let out a yelp, clearly not accustomed to the rides of the Sky People's machines. She wasn't sure what was going to happen next, but when she looked out to her left-hand side, she noticed the ground was receding from underneath them. They were definitely flying now!
"Hey," he told her as he gently tapped her arm. She recoiled her arm away from him. Looking up to her, he shared a warm comforting smile. "Everything is going to be okay."
Suddenly, the Gray Fox plunged into the chasm, subjecting them to intense G-forces that pressed them back into their seats. Mingxia expertly maneuvered the bulky Samson to avoid the oncoming fleet of banshees.
Jake, seated on Bob, waved to the Fox before bringing up his fleet into the chasm to land on the plateau. They were home but his mind was still back there—still in the storm, wondering about the lives of Amanti, the Tipani, and Ninat.
Outside of the safety of camp, the storm raged on. The rain poured down relentlessly, accompanied by the deafening sound of thunder and flashes of lightning all around. The Samson faced head-on the turbulent winds that shook its passengers around. Clutching the seat frame tightly, Asher tried to stay focused on the mission while keeping the backpack secured between his legs. Kxeyìn meanwhile, prayed beneath the drowning of sound. Praying that her mother and her People were still alive.