Author's Note: Hi...again? Whoops? Never in my lifetime would I ever think I'd be posting in this fandom. But after a life of being Avatar-ignorant, I've devoted my fangirl heart and soul right now to Miles, and absolutely have to play with another Slang fic. Because we're not doing enough of that around here. Keep in mind I'm the newest, greenest initiate into this world, but that's okay. We're AU-ing it, anyway.
Warnings: age gap slow burn romance, complete canon deviation/rewrite, entry level fandom knowledge, a whole lot of made up futuristic tech, conspiracy, religion, heavy religious themes, pro-human, anti-Na'Vi in ways you can't imagine, very anti Sully, Miles lives.
series intro
"And in the beginning, [I Am] created the heavens, and the Earth…"
On the blade-thin edge of extinction from overpopulation and irresponsibility from a government corrupted by the dark elites, life on Earth hangs in near asystole. Salvation comes through as breakthrough from the Resource Development Administration, the only independent cooperation given UN resources. Recognized as a global Behemoth, the United States Space Force jumps at the shot-in-the-dark chance to launch an expedition into deep space with RDA oversight; searching for resources amongst the stars. Hope, a future.
Enter Pandora, a gaseous world brimming with life, resources. And a tyrannical entity never identified in the flesh. Not everything is as it seems in the new world, however. The local sentients, those called the Na'vi, present a challenge to Earth's extended olive branch of hope.
Unwilling to negotiate and assist humanity's cry of desperation, tension has escalated to all out war. Fortresses are built as humanity grapples like David's against a Goliath foe unwilling to be tamed, or even seen.
Over two decades of occupation has RDA keening for resolution, even with the giant leaps of success the Avatar program has, seemingly, conquered. Desperation claws, and corporate administration is willing to bloodlet for answers.
Until the Gideon Brief arrives one fateful pilgrimage, simple and sweet to the eye of the beholder.
Certainly it can't be so easy, the championing of a world. Wrapped up in a simple dossier conceived in the brainchild of a was-then Earth teenager...
But hope has a funny way of showing herself, the flirt she is. All it takes is a requisition, a recruitment. Corporate sponsorships and the right shuffle of paperwork, and before you know it, it's been 12 years.
Twelve years and the breath of a new world unfolds the lungs, hangs stars in the eyes of the encouraged, even in the depths of hell.
"Welcome to hell, ladies and gentlemen. This is Pandora."