Chapter Text

Chapter Text

CHAPTER ONE

JAKE SULLY

Promise me-

I’m gonna fix you up-

I promise-

You protect your fuckin’ sister, no matter what, you hear? A man always keeps his women safe-

You don’t have to worry about me anymore. I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself-

I love you, brother. I always will-

Promise me-

I wanna bury her with Grace, I think… I think she’d appreciate that-

A thousand things run through his mind the second he sees the unmistakable face of his sister, held captive in the arms of an Avatar in RDA fatigues. And him. Quaritch, in the flesh. There was no forest to hide him this time. It was unmistakably him. Fucking how?!

I’d heard whispers of a program that Grace fought to get shut down, called Project Phoenix. But it was a crackpot dream. I mean, sure, the Avatars are a genetically manipulated combination of human and Na’vi DNA, but there would be no way to install the pilot permanently without altering the consciousness of the pilot. Grace said that kind of power was too dangerous; she wouldn’t allow them to even entertain the idea of inventing the technology.

That’s what Norm had told him.

Those were his exact words.

'No way' and 'crackpot dream'.

Well, Norm, it looks pretty fucking probable right now!

Recombinant was supposed to be a thing of fantasy. And he knows for fucking sure that his baby sister was explicit about not having an Avatar. She wanted nothing to do with it. He never understood why, but he didn’t question it, ‘cause it wasn’t his place to.

Yet there she is.

His baby sister. Only bigger and bluer, and very much alive.

He swears he can still feel the dirt in his palms from covering up her body, after laying her to rest, side-by-side with Grace.

Time freezes all around him as a swell of everything, and nothing thunders in his mind. Anger, rage, surprise, fear, sorrow, confusion. A thousand feelings, and a thousand thoughts, all melting together into one big gray blob of I-don’t-have-time-to-deal-with-this-shit.

So he does what he does best; he grits his teeth, purses his lips, pushes it all down, and moves on. Facing Quaritch and preparing to kill him- again?

He can do that.

Figure out whoever the fuck this other guy is?

He’ll get to it eventually.

But figuring out how his sister is still alive, somehow younger than she was before, and an Avatar? Not today.

And then all hell breaks loose- again- and she’s away from the other guy, whose vest reads Bukowski, and Jake has his hands on her shoulders, and he’s fixing to escape- But then she turns away.

His baby sister chooses that monster, chooses to help him as Quaritch and the other dude duke it out. He doesn’t care what their beef is; all he wants is to get his kids, get his sister, and get the hell out of Dodge, especially since the ship they’re currently standing on is literally going down.

And then Quaritch surprises him by getting his sister out of the fight, pushing her back into Jake’s arms. "Get her outta here!"

Only, both of them noticed the blade just a little too late.

And now her blood is seeping to the floor, flowing over her hands, and her palms are slick in his as he holds her tight, snapping his fingers in her face to keep her focus on him, and all of a sudden, he’s back on the Samson fleein' Hell’s Gate, and she’s dying in his hands.

All over again.

"Not again."

And then Quaritch is there, and Jake hisses, his hand flying to his tomahawk, ready to pounce, ready to get this over with, permanently… but then she reaches out for him.

And he whispers her name, his voice all full of fake worry and concern, his eyes simmering with rage.

No.

No, that can’t be right.

‘Cause Quaritch doesn’t feel anything. He can’t. He’s a heartless son-of-a-bitch, in every sense of the word.

But she’s holding his hand, clinging to him like he’s her lifeline, and then the smell hits him. His scent mingled with hers, as if they were one, as if they’re mated.

And then he calls her baby, and Jake sees fucking red, all over again.

Just like that time she snuck out to go meet up with a boy in High School. Jake was fresh out of Basic Training and waiting to ship out for his MOS, and he’d heard her sneak out, and thank God he followed her to the end of the driveway, ‘cause that little punk got way too handsy way too quickly, and Jake had to teach him a hard, five-fingered lesson. He didn’t think, he just acted. ‘Cause that’s his sister, for chrissakes, and he’s gotta defend her honor.

And here’s Quaritch, callin’ her baby.

And then he scoops her up into his arms, despite the way she screams through gritted teeth as her muscles move around the blade. He summons his banshee, and then he’s lookin’ at Jake, waiting.

“Lead the way,” he grunts, his face set in stony determination.

“Give her to me, and I’ll make sure she lives. You, not so much.” Jake growls, just as Neytiri lands behind him, her bow already drawn, curling her lips back in a ferocious snarl.

“I’m not putin’ her down ‘till I lay her at the feet of someone who can heal her.”

“MaJake, just give the word,” his mate hisses, and his ears twitch.

His heart thunders in his chest because this could all be a trick. If he takes Quaritch to the Tsahik, then he’ll know where they’ve been hiding, and he’ll burn Awat’lu, just like he did the other villages.

He carved up a fucking Tulkun, signed Jake’s name on her back, and staked her baby to her fin, all to lure him in. He’s a sick, twisted fucking bastard, and yet there he is, cradling his sister, demanding that she be saved.

Fuck it, he doesn’t have time for this.

“No time to explain, baby, let’s go.” Jake huffs, swinging up behind her on her ikran, barking the order to return to Awat’lu. She knows better than to speak against him at a moment like this, but her narrowed eyes tell him that they'll definitely be having a conversation later.

Quaritch remains close behind, and the kids, God bless them, paddle furiously below on their ilu, glancing worriedly into the air.

The Metkayina are already gathered on the beach, and Tonowari is the first to greet him, glaring at the man behind him as they all dismount.

His sister screams and whimpers loudly as she’s jostled around, and Tonowari holds up a hand, hissing at the intruder, snarling at the man clad in human clothes.

“Tonowari, please. This woman is my sister, she’s dying, she needs Ronal. Please, I am begging that you save her.” Jake starts, stepping forward with his hands raised, showing that he’s not a threat.

One by one, the kids come trudging through the shore, flanking him at his sides.

“And what of that one? He is not one of yours.” Tonowari jerks his chin at Quaritch, whose ears flick at his acknowledgement, probably catching bits and pieces of the conversation.

“He’s not. I don’t care what happens to him, but please. I already had to bury her once. Please don’t make me do it again.”

At this, Tonowari frowns in confusion and huffs out a breath of air.

“This way. She is tending to the other wounded. We shall see what can be done for her.” He relents, raising his hand so the crowds part, carving a clear path for him and Quaritch to follow down.

“Dad, I can help!” Kiri jumps in, catching Jake’s elbow.

Any other day, he would have argued. It’s not a kid's place to do such things. He had fought so hard to keep her innocent, to spare his kids from the war that he had been born into. Then again, Kiri’s never been the type to play. She’s always been so serious. And she studied under Mo’at most of her life, so she knows her way around a healing tent.

“Okay,” he relents, and he doesn’t miss the flash of surprise across her face, before she quickly stuffs it back down.

She has to jog to keep up, Jake's long legs eating up the distance as he follows the pair ahead.

Ronal is even more confused than Tonowari, but thankfully, she knows better than to ask too many questions during such a vital time.

She motions for Quaritch to lay her down on a mat, away from the others, and the girl catches his hand before he can get too far.

“Miles…” his sister murmurs, her eyes bleary and unfocused as she looks around, unable to settle on anything. Quaritch cups her hand in his, holding on tight as Ronal holds a bundle of dried herbs over a torch. She swirls the smoking bundle in the air, drawing patterns in the space above you, chanting deep in her throat to cleanse your body.

“Jake,” his sister pants as her other hand floats weakly towards him, reaching out blindly, knowing that he's close. They've always shared a special bond. Not like what he and Tommy had, nothing could ever compare to that. But one that can only be formed through surviving shitty parents, shitty circumstances, and now- he catches himself from spiraling.

He doesn’t hesitate to take her hand, wrapping his fingers around hers, her skin cold and clammy. She's lost a lot of blood, the color has drained from her lips, and her tongue darts out to wet them as she struggles to find her voice and speak.

“Promise me,” she pants, sucking in a shallow breath, “promise me… he lives.” She points a finger towards Quaritch with the hand that he’s holding, and Jake’s eyes slide over.

“Promise. Save him.” 

He can promise that you’ll be alright.

He can promise that he will fight until his dying breath to keep you safe. Or atleast avenge you. Again.

But that?

No.

That’s a promise he just can’t keep.

The girl must see it in his eyes, because she forces herself to lean up, clenching her jaw to muffle her cries of anguish so she can get in close to his face, staring straight into his eyes with sudden clarity, that Jake has to swallow hard to keep himself in check.

“Miles. Will. Live.” She repeats, before sputtering into a cough that has her convulsing.

Jake and Quaritch meet eyes, matching each other’s glares, their faces illuminated by the glow of the torches as Ronal returns with a bowl full of mashed herbs.

“I don’t care what you do to me. Just make sure she lives,” Quaritch growls in English, relenting. He pushes away from the girl then, giving Ronal room to work, but not before pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead. Lovingly.

Jake's stomach churns, and he think sh e might get sick.

“Tonowari, this man is our prisoner. He was on the Demon Ship.” 

At this, both Ronal and Tonowari freeze, as do some of the other warriors in the tent. Quaritch pushes to his feet and raises his arms in surrender.

Jake will figure out where he’s taken later, because right now, all he can focus on is his baby sis as Ronal commands that he hold down her legs, with Neytiri at her shoulders, keeping them flat.

“I must remove the blade and then check the inside. Keep her still, or it could turn worse.” She says, clutching the hilt of the dagger, pressing on the girl's lower belly with the other. Kiri is across from her, clutching the bowl of mashed herbs, insisting that she help, donning a mask of calm that only a true Tsahik can wear at a time like this. Tsireya tried to replace Kiri, but Ronal ordered her to tend to the others.

“Stab wound to the lower abdominal,” his sis mutters, eyelids fluttering. “Check for… ruptured bladder, potential damage to the large intestine…”

Even half-dead, she still reverts to that fucking doctor brain of hers. Just like Tommy.

Ronal pulls a small knife from the fringe of her top and uses it to cut away the girls' shirt, discarding the soiled shred of fabric to the side to be burned later.

“Bite on this, so you do not break your teeth,” Kiri whispers against her ear, forcing a small segment of reed into her mouth. Her jaws snap shut on it, just as Ronal pulls the dagger from her body.

Her ear-piercing scream rattles his brain as he grips her ankles, holding her down as she fights against him with surprising strength, her body convulsing as blood oozes from the wound. 

Ronal leans in close, inhales deeply, and then, without warning, shoves a finger into the hole to probe around.

It feels like Jake has a fist clenching his heart as he watches the tears flow from the corners of his sister's eyes as she sobs, and the piece of reed splinters into her mouth- until she falls still with a heavy shudder, passing out from the pain, most likely.

“She will live. Nothing is cut that cannot heal,” Ronal huffs, scooping a handful of the poultice so she can slather it over your wound, pinching the flesh together as she does. As soon as it is packed and the blood stops flowing, she uses a large roll of hand-woven fabric to wrap around her torso to keep it all in place.

“What about the blood loss?” He asks, staring down at the girl's pale lips and sallow cheeks, using the back of his hand to wipe the beads of sweat from her forehead. If the knife didn’t do the job, surely that will.

“Dad, there’s a med kit in your trunk, right?” Kiri cuts in, and Jake nods, wondering where she’s going with this. “I could set up a direct transfusion. I watched video logs of Mo- of Dr. Augustine performing one between avatars.”

“I wash my hands of demon medicine,” Ronal hisses, rising to her full height, excusing herself. She gathers her supplies and walks away in a huff. She wasn’t much one for pleasantries.

“We’re family, so we should be a match. If you think you can, please do it.”

As soon as she’s gone, Jake’s head falls into his hands, and he squeezes his eyes shut with a resigned sigh.

The worst part was over. Now, all she's gotta do is wake up.

“MaJake,” Neytiri purrs softly, laying her hand on his shoulder, pulling him back to the present. “Now, can you tell me this long story?”

So he does. Why not? He vowed a long time ago that he’d never keep secrets from her. After all, Neytiri was there when he buried his sister. When they buried Grace’s human body.

He fills her in on everything leading up to the shooting- including how it was Quaritch who had pulled the trigger.

“This demon is a plague, and we must purge our world of him,” she snarls, pacing the length of the tent as Jake sits cross-legged beside his sister's sleeping form, a thin needle stabbed into a vein in his arm. Kiri was currently working on getting the other end hooked up in a vein on the girl's arm, and her eyes flickered towards him.

“She’s right, Dad. He’s the one who captured us in the woods. He’s the entire reason we fled. He killed the Tulkun and burned villages. The People will want justice.”

“It ain’t that simple,” he shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose once more. “They’re mated. I don’t know how or why, but I can’t just kill him outright.”

"He is a monster. He deserves death. Worse than death," she shakes her head, and the beads at the ends of her braids clack loudly against each other, filling the heavy silence that hangs in between her words.

"We should wait for her to wake up. It is the way of the Sky People to kill first, ask questions later," Kiri warns, refusing to look at either of her parents as she speaks. Neytiri's eyes narrow, and Jake visibly tenses.

"Baby girl, there is a lot that you don't know about that man. Don't waste your breath trying to justify him."

"I'm not justifying him, Dad, all I'm saying is that I trust her judgment, and if she begged for you to spare his life, then clearly, there's some good in him. You should have seen how she fought on the ship, how hard she pleaded for him to spare us. And after, he tossed me away, because his goal wasn't to hurt me. In the end, he chose saving her over his mission to capture you, Dad. I think that's gotta stand for something."

Jake fucking hates it when Kiri makes a good point, because it reminds him of arguing with Grace.

There was no changing that damn woman's mind once she had her heart set on something. Jake draws a steadying breath, standing up slowly. "Guess we should go ask him, then, huh?"

"Spill," Jake growls, storming into the marui that was acting as the temporary prison for Quaritch.

His wrists are bound tightly behind his back, and his head hangs low, ears pinned flat. He doesn't move at first, staring at the woven floor, his breathing shallow and uneven.

After an eternity, he looks up, and Jake falters, unable to read what's on his face.

He looks just as messed up as Jake feels.

"Where should I start?"

"From the beginning."

Quaritch sucks his teeth and looks away, rolling his eyes, and his sister's name tumbles out of his mouth. "Not until I know she's okay."

"She's stable, for now. Had to give her some blood. Got the knife out. Now, it's all up to her." Jake crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the doorway. The guards outside shift on their feet, and he can tell they're trying to listen in, but they are unfamiliar with the language of the Sky People. "Why don't you start by explaining how the fuck she's alive? I buried her. Fifteen years ago. She bled out right in front of me. But you know that already, don't you?"

His ears twitch as he looks away, dropping his gaze to the floor, which is all Jake needs to know. He recognizes the guilt that hangs over him like a storm cloud. "I didn't know that I hit her. I was just... He was just trying to do damage. It wasn't anything against her. Wrong place, wrong time."

"Don't start that shit with me. No one made you destroy Hometree. No one was twisting your arm when it came to gunning down the Na'vi. It was all you."

"No!" Quaritch looks up suddenly. "I am not the same. Everything in my head right now is just a copy of the old Quaritch. They downloaded his memories and crammed them into my head, but everything looks different. Feels different. They made this body in a lab back on Earth, and then filled it up with the memories of a dead man. But make no mistake, I am not him."

"Is that what they did to her?" 

Quaritch looks away again. "After Hometree fell, since Selfridge was going to send home everyone who was a part of the Avatar program, he had her memories downloaded. It was just for the intel. I don't know all the science behind it, but he figured she probably had something valuable stashed in there. He did the same for Grace and everyone else who was a part of the Avatar program. They brought her back because she didn't have a record of violence and didn't already have an Avatar of her own. But mostly because she was the most... complacent, out of the others."

His jaw twitches, and Jake can tell that he's hiding something else. "Then what?"

"Francis Ardmore is the new on-world head of operations. She figured that since the Doc was Grace's assistant, she'd have a good knowledge of the Na'vi and Pandora, so she could train us. Show us how to live out there, how to communicate. Eywa has done a good job protecting her people against the RDA, so Armore decided to try a different angle. Send in some of their own Na'vi and see if the world would still attack or not. Mission successful, as you well know. And thanks to the Doc, we had all the training we needed."

No, that doesn't sound like you at all. There's no way you would cooperate for something like that. Why would you die to protect this world, only to flip on your second-chance? Quaritch reads the question on his face, answering slowly.

"Ardmore forced her hand. Told her you were dead. Kept her in the dark about everything that happened at Hell's Gate. Far as she knew, the humans won and kept her around because they needed her intel. Promised her a painful death if she didn't cooperate. Trust me, there wasn't anything willing about it."

"But somewhere along the line, she must've changed the way she felt about it, if she chose you as her mate."

Again, there's that look. The guilt returns, and Quaritch hunches away, refusing to meet Jake's eyes.

Jake stomps deeper into the Marui, crouching low so he can snatch Quaritch by the vest, shaking him hard enough that the hut trembles around them. "What the fuck did you do to my sister?!" He growls, and Quaritch's nostrils flare.

"What I had to do to keep her alive. She jumped from our bird mid-flight. Tried to run away. That's when she met your kids, in the forest. When we got back, Ardmore knew all about it. Had her execution scheduled for later that day. I couldn't just... I couldn't just stand by and do nothin' while she got killed. She didn't deserve that."

"So what did you do?"

His face told Jake everything.

"You forced her?"

His ears flatten, and his tail falls still, silently confirming Jake's question.

If Jake didn't want to kill him before, he certainly does now. Jake throws Quaritch to the floor, wanting nothing more than to plunge his knife right into his fucking heart- but he can't.

He promised.

"There's one more thing," Quaritch grits out, rolling onto his side, slowly pushing himself back onto his knees. "Ardmore put a tracker in all of us. Said she didn't want to lose her billion-dollar investments out in the woods. If you don't want her to come hunting us down, then you better cut it out of me. Her too."

"That's the best damn thing I've heard all day," Jake mutters, stomping towards Quaritch, pulling the knife from its sheath at his back. 

"Just below the collarbone. Right side. About three fingers down," he jerks his chin, touching it to his skin as best as he can.

Jake clamps a hand around his shoulder and digs his thumb into his skin hard. Quaritch grits his teeth, staring over Jake's shoulder as he probes for the device.

He finds it after a few seconds, just under the skin, not quite in the flesh.

He doesn't give Quaritch the blessing of a warning as he pushes the knife in, twisting it around until he feels the metal clink against the polished stone blade. Quaritch hisses loudly, and the braided ropes groan as he twists his wrists, fighting against the bindings as he grits through the pain. A stream of blood flows down his chest, soaking into his tactical vest, until the metal piece pops out.

"Anything else I should know?" Jake says smugly, pushing Quaritch so he lands on his back.

"No. I only know about those 'cause I saw our scans on her desk, right before we flew out here," he growls, thumping his head against the floor.

"You listen to me-" Jake threatens, leaning in close, "-the only reason that you're alive is 'cause of her. She begged me to keep you safe. So if she dies, the first thing I'm gonna do is kill you. In other words, you'd better start fucking praying that she makes it."

Jake rises up to leave, rolling the tracker in his hands, wondering what he should do with it, when Quaritch calls out to him from across the room. "She's stronger than you give her credit for."

"I sure fuckin' hope so."

Jake leaves him with that and tells the guards at the door to give him a bandage to stop the bleeding on his way out.

He doesn't have the fucking mental energy to deal with this shit.

"MaJake, you should eat. Save your strength," Neytiri chides him, pushing a polished shell-plate into his hands as he paces another lap around the outside of the Tsahik's Marui.

His throat feels tight, and he's afraid he might choke if he tries to eat, but he does it anyway. He doesn't want to worry her, but the food feels like eating sand as he gags it down.

"It's been two days." He huffs around a mouthful of roasted fish, staring into the mouth of the tent at his sister's sleeping form as Kiri runs a wet sponge over her body, cleaning the girl up and moving her around so she doesn't get bed sores.

"Her body has gone through much. Her soul, even more. She just needs time to rest." She lays a comforting hand on his shoulder, even though she doesn't quite understand what's going on. But how could she? The ways of the Sky People are so perverted, so wrong. How can she even fathom that they've pulled the memories straight out of her head and then crammed them into a different body, resurrecting her from death? "If she is anything like you, she will persevere."

"Thanks, Baby." He sighs, reaching around to hold her hand against his skin. "I just... I can't believe she's alive. When the kids said they met her in the forest, I thought, surely they're mistaken. It had to be a lie, a trap to try to lure me in. But seeing her now... there's no denying. That's her."

"What about the others? Did the demon explain how they are alive?"

Yesterday, one of the other Recoms, as Quaritch referred to them, had washed up on the beach. Jake remembers him from Hell's Gate; he used to fly as one of Trudy's gunners when she flew the Avatars out for field trips. Lyle Wainfleet, just another jarhead with the body of an Avatar and the skills of a Marine.

He was too weak to fight back when Tonowari's warriors dragged him to camp, recognizing his gear from the prisoner they already had in custody.

"He said that they were all dead. They became Dreamwalkers, but they live inside the body."

"Like how my mother helped you?"

Jake clenches his jaw and nods his head tersely. 

If the RDA can replicate the Tsahik's ability to transfer a consciousness through Eywa artificially, what else are they capable of? 

"Did he say how many others there are?"

"No. He's reluctant to talk. Another reason I need her to wake up," he jerks his chin in your direction, finishing off the food on his plate in a few large bites.

"They could be making an army," she lowers her voice, leaning in closer as she takes the plate from his hands, and Jake glances around, making sure there aren't any eavesdroppers. "Their city is a fortress. There would be no way of knowing how many could be hiding there, unless she wakes up."

"That's what I'm worried about. He warned me about the other one, Bukowski, who got away? Said he could bring trouble to our doorstep if he gets back to Bridgehead."

"We should return to the forest. Warn our people."

Jake exhales through his nose sharply, pinning her with a look. He knows how much she craves to return home, how much it pains her to be away. He's had to deal with the guilt of ripping her from her home every time he looks her in the eye, but it isn't safe.

"And lead the army to our family? No. Not yet. We need more information."

"If they have an army waiting, then perhaps it is time that Toruk Makto return, to rally the clans?" She insists, tugging at his arm as he pulls away, forcing him to face her once more. He pins his ears, not wanting to hear anything more about Toruk Makto.

"Baby," he warns, gripping her wrist. "This... this ain't the time for that kind of conversation."

"If not now, then when?"

"Later."

He doesn't give her room to argue further, entering the tent so that he can come to rest at his sister's side, taking her warm hand in his. Kiri was cleaning the wound and replacing the poultice, and he helped roll her to the side as Kiri rewrapped the bandages.

"Where is the Tsahik?" He questions, and Kiri rolls her eyes with a scoff.

"She said she did all she could, and that she surrenders her to Eywa now."

Jake hums, pursing his lips. "She doesn't think much of us, still?"

"Apparently not." Kiri sighs, tucking the ends of the bandage into itself so it is secure. Then, she sits back on her heels, studying the young woman's face carefully.

"She's got your cheekbones. I can see it, here," she points out, running the tips of her fingers over the length of her cheek, and he laughs, hanging his head.

"Yeah, our mother used to tell us it was the only thing we kept of hers. Everything else came straight from our dad."

"You never told us about her." She turns her attention to him now, staring up at him with those wide, curious eyes. Always seeking knowledge, always craving to know more. He used to hate that about Grace, and now it's his favorite thing about his daughter. He reaches across take her dainty hand in his, smoothing his thumb over Kiri's knuckles.

"There's a lot about my old life that I wanted to keep in the past. I thought it was better that way," he sighs, searching his heart for the right words as he treads carefully. "You know that I wasn't always... like this. In this body. I came from a different planet. Never wanted to. It was always her dream to come here, to study this world and the People. Hers and Tommy's."

"Tommy?"

"I was born with a brother. A twin. Although we couldn't be more different if we'd've tried. Tommy was the brainy one. Me... well, I'm pretty sure you think I'm an idiot. Grace certainly did. I became a warrior, and they both went to study at an Academy to become scientists. She studied, uh..." There was no word for it in the language of the People, so he gave her the Sky People version. "Xenomedicine."

"It means the study of alien biology. She also had a minor in Xenoanthropology," not that Kiri will know what it means to Major or Minor in an education, but then again, she's smarter than he gives her credit for. "She wanted to be a doctor for the Avatars, and eventually the Na'vi. Her entire life, all she ever wanted to do was help people. Wanted to study the way the Na'vi lived, in hopes that she could use it to help the humans back on Earth. Hoped that she could make a cure for them."

Instead, the humans brought their disease here, and now they're infecting his home. Destroying everything they touch. Including you. If only you had never joined the program, you could still be human, living a simple life back on Earth. Old and content.

"And then what?" Kiri probes for more information, bringing him back to the moment.

"Well, Tommy was killed before he was supposed to be shipped here. They asked me to take his place. And she was already here, working with Grace back at Hell's Gate."

"She worked with my mom?" Kiri's ears perk up at this, and he grins, chuckling softly. "She recognized me, that day in the forest. I wondered how she knew that name. We... didn't really get the chance to talk about it."

"Yeah. They got along really well. Honestly, I think she reminded Grace of herself from her younger years. She was extremely stubborn, viciously curious, nosy," the list runs on, and Kiri swats his arm playfully.

Neytiri watches the scene unfold, leaning in the doorway of the Marui with a soft smile dancing on her lips as she observes them.

"What else?"

"Well, as kids, she was always getting Tommy and me in trouble. We did most of the raising. Our parents were barely there, and even when they were, we tried to avoid them. But we were close, the three of us. Even though we fought, we knew that we were all the others had."

He laughs suddenly as a memory flashes across his mind.

"What?" Kiri perks up, tilting her head curiously.

"Back on Earth, there's a small vehicle called a bicycle. It's got two wheels, one in front and one in back, connected by a metal frame with a seat in the center. You're supposed to push the pedals with your feet, and it'd carry you all over the place," he starts, painting the illustration with his words as best as he could. "I was teaching her how to ride one, but she refused to let me let go of her."

He takes a second to gather his breath before he continues, his voice wavering as he struggles to maintain his composure, refusing to let Kiri see how hard this was hurting him. "I told her that I wouldn't let anything happen to her. I promised that I'd always be there for her, no matter what."

And look at what he did. He left her the day he turned 18 so he could get away from home, abandoned her to face the wrath of their father without a buffer... then he let her get tangled up in his rebellion and let her get shot. So much for protective big brother.

"And then what?"

"He pushed me... and broke my arm," a voice rasps from below, and Jake jolts as he realizes that she's awake.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER TWO

YOU

The first thing you notice is the pain in your lower belly, which throbs to the beat of your heart. You try to move, but your limbs refuse, and there's an annoying rumbling overhead that just won't shut up.

It takes a lot more effort than it should to open your eyes, and you have to blink several times to clear the fog that blurs your vision. You squint at the ceiling, making out the shapes as the light dances through the cracks.

You appear to be in some sort of tent, which rises to a peak in the center, made of beautifully woven material that resembles the waves of the ocean, blue, brown, and bits of green. Its warm and stuffy inside, and your skin feels sticky from a layer of sweat. 

The rumbling is actually a voice, and your eyes slide to the left, landing on Jake's face as he stares at someone across from him, a small smile dancing on his lips as he recounts the time he shoved you on your bike.

The memories slowly come creeping in, drizzling down like a light rain, washing away the fog in your head, until you feel like you're five years old again, and Jake's hands are on your back, threatening to shove you down the biggest, most terrifying hill on the street.

Because your father was never around. Sober, that is. And you begged and begged for a bike for your birthday, because all the kids on your street had one. Your father said it was a waste of money, and your mother was never one to talk back to him, but your brothers couldn't just stand by and watch your dreams get crushed.

They saved every penny they found on the ground, did chores for the neighbors, and stole a few dollars from Mom's wallet until they had enough to buy a rusted piece of junk from a scrap yard. Then he and Tommy duct-taped some training wheels on it, drilled a plank of wood onto the seat, and tied some pink thread around the handles to customize it, just for you.

"You can do it," he had grinned in that mischievous way of his. "You got this!"

Only, you didn't. He'd shoved you so hard that the steering handle wobbled and then twisted in your hands, and you went headfirst over the bar, flipping the bike in the air and landing right on your arm. There was no denying the unmistakable pop of your wrist dislocating, and you made sure that he never heard the end of it.

It was the best gift you'd ever gotten, even though it was a tetanus-shot away from certain death. Not because it was what you wanted most at the time, but because your brothers showed you that no matter the obstacle, they would always show you how much they loved you. Through everything you suffered as a kid, teen, and later, an adult, there was one thing you could always fall back on.

Your brothers.

Then Tommy was murdered.

And then you died.

And then the RDA brought you back, convinced you Jake was gone too, and you've been a dead-woman-walking ever since.

But there he is, alive and well, talking about the time you absolutely ate shit on your bike because the training wheels broke off mid-roll; and you take a breath, your first real breath since you woke up on the table in an RDA lab, feeling alive. Actually alive.

He jumps at the sound of your voice, and suddenly his hands are around your face, and the words are tumbling out of his mouth, but you can't make sense of them- because he's here.

Jake is safe, warm, and real.

Without warning, he slides his arms under your back and pulls you against his chest in a fierce hug, and you have to muffle your cries of pain into his hair as he holds on tight, swarmed with relief but in agony at the stabbing pain in your gut.

"Jake," you cry softly, holding onto him as best as you can. "Is this real?"

"Yeah, sis. It's real. You're alive, I'm alive. We're okay. I knew you'd pull through," he chuckles softly. There's a wry smile dancing on his lips, but you know him well enough to see past the mask he wears, hiding how truly terrified he was. "Sully's are tough."

"Doesn't mean it doesn't hurt like a bitch," you wince, gasping for breath as he lays you back down. Your hands find your wound, and they brush over the strange bandages that are wrapped around your abdomen. The acrid scent of the herbs stings your nostrils, and you look over to find a familiar face.

Grace- no, Kiri.

"Welcome back," she smiles softly, resting her hand over yours.

"What- what happened?" You lick your lips again, struggling to put the pieces together in your mind. "Where's Quaritch?"

Jake's jaw flexes at this, and he looks away, sucking in a steadying breath before he looks back down on you. "Locked up, for now. He's got a lot to answer to, but I explained to Tonowari that we should wait until you wake up. Get the full story. He's been combative since he brought you in."

"What happened on the ship?" You ask again, just as Kiri cups the back of your head, forcing you to sip at a bitter drink. Warmth flows through your veins, and the biting pain subsides until the stabbing becomes a dull throb. 

"That's what I wanted to ask you. I need you to catch me up on what led to you being in the hands of that man- Bukowski, was his name? You jumped on his back when he attacked Quaritch, got stabbed in the process, and then Quaritch flew you here to be healed." Jake recounts the events, helping you to sit up. You grit your teeth and breathe through the pain, struggling to keep yourself from hyperventilating as the movement awakens the pain. "Can you remember, or do you need a minute?"

"Business first, fun later, as usual," you chuckle dryly, brushing your hair out of your face as soon as you're sitting upright completely. "Can't think on an empty stomach."

Jake looks over at Kiri and tells her to go get you a plate, and to alert Ronal that you've woken up. As soon as the girl was out the door, he looked back over to you, lowering his voice, suddenly serious. "How bad is it?"

"Bad. Fucking bad. The commander of the human settlement is named General Ardmore. She's a heartless, vicious bitch. Makes Quaritch look like a saint. She's not here to mine unobtanium; she's here to make Pandora Earth's new home. She revived the Project Phoenix and brought me, Quaritch, and a handful of others back as Recoms. Then, she started branching into the SecOps agents that are still living. I don't know how they did it, but they figured out how to permanently put a driver into an Avatar body. Jake, it's only a matter of time before there's an army of them. Our group was just a test, but now Ardmore knows that Eywa will not attack if they look like Na'vi. I don't know what she's planning, but it can't be good."

"That's what I was afraid of." He mutters, looking away in resignation, just as Kiri returns with a plate of food that has your mouth watering instantly. A Metkayina woman is right on her tail, pushing past Kiri towards you. Despite the swell of her belly, she gracefully glides through the room, crouching down beside you so she could check you over, not bothering with pleasantries as she starts probing around your wounds.

"You are strong, for a Sky Person," she huffs, sounding almost surprised that you managed to pull through. "It is not my place to question the will of Eywa, and it appears that she has plans for you."

You're not so sure about that, because right now, you feel worthless. You led the RDA to their doorstep. You gave the Recoms the means to communicate and survive in the jungle, all so they could hunt Jake down, because they want the upper hand in whatever war is raging between the RDA and the People. You feel like a traitor—a monster. And then to make matters worse, to be mated to one of the men responsible for all the destruction of those villages? For killing a Tulkun?

Jake reads the guilt on your face, and he brushes a hand down your arm to reassure you. "How about you just eat and rest for today? We'll worry about the rest tomorrow."

Ronal, the Tsahik of the Metkayina clan, insisted that you needed to get up and move. Every step sends hot pain through your stomach, and it feels like you are getting stabbed over and over again, but Jake is right at your side, holding your arm, talking you through the pain.

He made you get up every hour, and in between, you got to meet the rest of his family.

Your family.

Kiri is just like Grace; brutally honest and inquisitive, neatly packaged in teenage sass. It was so uncanny to hear her talk, to watch her movements, because they were just o Grace-like, even though she never got to speak to her birth mother. She may not share Jake's DNA, but there's no denying that she's adopted his attitude as she rolls her eyes at his back when he buts in to talk over her.

Tuk, on the other hand, is the opposite. Bright and bubbly, her smile is so big that it consumes her face, and she hugs you a little too roughly when she sees you awake and moving. "Thank you, thank you!" She chirps, holding your hand tightly. You tell her there's no thanks necessary. You would never sit by and watch them get hurt. Not if you could help it.

Neteyam is like his mother. He is deliberate with his words, thinking first, speaking later. He watches from a distance, hovering at the edges of the tent, observing like a guard over his people. He's mature and reserved, but you're not so sure that's a good thing. On the outside, he's handling his world being flipped upside down like a champ, but that's where Jake's genes come in to play. Cool on the outside, but a mess on the inside. 

Lo'ak is also reserved. He keeps his face as neutral as possible, but his lips twitch in a small smile. 

He's so much like Jake, it hurts. Standing before you is the version of your brother that you remember, right before he ran away to join the Marines. Stubborn, bull-headed, and always up for a challenge. You'd seen it in the way he talked back to the Recoms that he wasn't one to back down, even if his life was in danger. The others seemed to dance around the topic of the RDA, but he asked outright.

"What'd they do, after the forest?"

After you had run away, and then tried to save them from the Blue Team when you ran across the kids in the woods? "They tried to kill me."

Jake is hovering a few feet away, and you look over Lo'ak's shoulder to meet his eyes. "They tried to kill me, but Quaritch saved my life. I don't agree with the method, but if it weren't for him, Ardmore was going to have me put down."

Jake's eyes harden at this, and his nostrils flare as he breathes heavily from his nose, his stance growing tense. "Yeah. He said something like that, too. But one good thing doesn't make up for the rest of the shit he did."

"I need to talk to him, Jake." The air grows heavy in the tent, and Kiri grabs the others, ushering them outside while the adults talk. Their shadows move through the cracks of the tent, and you can tell their eavesdropping from outside, so you lower your voice.

"It wasn't all him. Bukowski pushed him to take more drastic measures. I'm not saying what he did was good. He should be punished. But Ardmore gave him a choice: bring you in, or have me killed. Me and his entire team."

"He slaughtered a tulkun. Killed her baby, carved my fucking name into her body-"

Your blood runs cold at this.

No. Surely not. Not him.

Right?

Your voice wavers as you stare hard into his eyes, begging him to listen. "Please. Let me see him."

Jake rests his hands on his hips as he paces the room, before finally relenting. "Fine. Just real quick, and then tomorrow we will have a council over what to do with him and the other."

The Metkayina stare openly as Jake marches you to the Marui that holds the prisoners. You were already an alien and outcast, due to the obvious differences between you and normal Na'vi, but being amongst these people only makes it that much more painfully obvious. Their curly hair, bright turquoise eyes, and azure skin. Beautiful.

Tears well up around your eyes, and Jake stops walking so he can rub your back. You were already clinging to his arm for support, unable to stand upright completely, and already breathless. But it isn't the pain that's got you wanting to cry your eyes out.

This is the first time you've been surrounded by Na'vi.

There's not a human in sight. No smoke, no concrete, no guns, no vehicles, no uniforms. No human filth. The air is clear and fresh, cool against your skin, and the wind carries the scent of salt, hot sand, and fish. The People whisper under their breaths, moving cautiously out of your way as you hobble along the bouncy woven pathway, and down below, an aquatic creature splashes on the surface, watching you with open curiosity.

Everything is so serene, so beautiful. Unmarred by the war of the Sky people. As if none of it was happening. As if Bridgehead were on another planet.

"You good?" Jake rumbles, smoothin his hand down your back, and you nod stiffly.

"Yeah, just, uh-" you huff, struggling to get your trembling under control -" catching my breath is all."

"You sure you want to do this right now? I can take you back."

"No! No, I can do this."

You raise your head and gather your courage, pushing through the pain with every step. As soon as you're outside of the tent, you look in, holding your breath at the sight of Quaritch sitting on the floor, his back to the door, arms draped over his knees. His ears are still, and his tail lies flat against the floor. Unmoving. Waiting.

Lyle is the one who notices you first, and he jumps to his feet, rushing as close to the door as the guards will allow. "Boss," he grunts, drawing Quaritch's attention to the entrance of the Marui.

He cranes his head to the side and then looks again, his eyes widening as if he's not really sure that you're real and standing there. Slowly, he rises to his feet, and the hard lines between his eyebrows melt away as he visibly relaxes. His legs devour the distance between you, and he reaches out-

You hold up a hand, stopping him midstride. His mouth opens as if he's going to say something, but then he snaps it shut, looking over your shoulder at Jake before returning to your face.

"I just wanted to let you know that I'm okay. And that these next few days could mean life or death for you. So I need you to tell me everything. No holding back." You lean against the mouth of the tent for support, watching as he purses his lips.

"Everything?"

"Everything. They're going to want you to pay for what happened with the Tulkun and the villages. So we need to be able to plead your case. Being my mate won't be enough to save you."

Quaritch's ears twitch, and you realize that you've never called him that outright before this moment. His eyes dart over your body, staring hard at the bandages around your abdomen, before he sighs, cursing under his breath.

"We doing this here? Now?"

"No, but soon." Jake steps in, pressing his hand into the small of your back. You link your arm through his as he gently spins you around, but he never looks away from Quaritch, staring him down as if he could kill him with his glare. "I'll have food sent in soon."

He doesn't give you the chance to argue as he pulls you from their tent, forcing you back down the pathway.

Walking all that way to Quaritch's tent took more energy out of you than expected, and by the time you return to the Sully's Marui, you're practically asleep on your feet. Jake eases you onto the ground, draping a light blanket over you, and you shift until you're comfortable enough to rest.

If tossing and turning didn't send you into painful spasms, you would be rolling around. The pain causes you to drift in and out of strange, feverish nightmares, most of them being a distorted replay of what happened on the ship. Sometimes, Bukowski wins and kills Quaritch right in front of you. In others, you escape long before they ever kill the Tulkun, warn Jake, and get revenge for all of the pain that's been caused.

But mostly, you dream of Quaritch and that night in the trees. Becoming one mind, one body, one soul. How could he have gone from that, show you a side of him that you never knew existed, a softness, a tenderness- and then flip the next day? Torture innocent Na'vi, watch them slaughter a Tulkun, and then her baby?

Now that you have all this time to sit and stew on what the two of you mean to each other, you're not sure where you stand. On one hand, you have to, because you're mated. And on the other hand, you crave something that you're not sure he can give any more.

Does he even still have a heart to give?

Evening comes eventually, and Jake brings you more food. Kiri helps you limp around the inside of the tent, and when you're out of breath, they lay you back down. The others come in slowly, settling into their sleeping mats one by one, with Jake and Neytiri curled in a hammock at the farthest end.

The scent of saltwater and warm sand invades your nostrils, and you suck in deep and steadying breaths, hoping to slow your racing heart. But something is eating away at the back of your mind until you snap, unable to keep it in any longer.

"Jake, can I ask you something?" You whisper into the darkness, one hand propped behind your head, the other resting on your stomach. You keep your voice low, hoping not to disturb the children, who were already snoring softly.

"If you make it quick," he lets out a raspy grumble, and you can't help but smile. Back home, you, Jake, and Tommy all had to share the living room to sleep in, since your father could only afford a single-bed house. There were many nights that you'd kept the brothers up by asking questions that wound up keeping all of you awake.

"I was kind of in and out of it, you know... after I got stabbed, and you said something that made me wonder." You start, sucking in a breath as you will your thundering heart to settle. "When I died... as a human, were you... Did you see it?"

The Marui falls silent, and for a second, you wonder if maybe he hadn't heard you, or that he'd fallen asleep already. Your heart pounds so hard in your chest that you fear the others can hear it, until he softly clears his throat. His voice is thick as he finally speaks. "Yeah. I was there."

"What happened?"

"Can it wait?"

"It's going to keep me up wondering."

"It'll keep you up knowin'," he replies tensely, and this causes your pulse to skyrocket. How bad was it?

How bad could it have been?

He takes your silence as consent, and he sighs heavily, causing Neytiri to stir beside him. Kiri mumbles in her sleep from across the room, and you turn to face his direction, wishing you could see him.

"We were all arrested after Hometree was destroyed. Trudy and Max broke us out. We were loadin' up in her Samson when... when Quaritch came busting out a side door. He tried to shoot us down."

He pauses, and your blood runs cold. "He didn't hit the Samson, but he got you. Bullet went straight through you and into Grace. It only took a few minutes, but you bled out in my hands. I don't even think he knew what he did."

"He paid for his crimes with two arrows through his heart," Neytiri growls, her voice husky with sleep. "Now, please. Silence."

You don't return to see Quaritch for several days.

Apparently, he asks about you every time Jake goes to check on him to be filled in on all the details of his involvement in the Tulkun slaughter. 

"Quaritch doesn't claim to be a saint; he still has a lot of shit sitting on his shoulders." Jake sighs, rubbing his hand over his face as you lie on the mat for Kiri to check your wound. If it were up to you, you would have stitched it closed to prevent infection, but they did not have the materials for that, so you allowed her to treat you the Na'vi way.

Native medicinal practices had always been one of your deepest fascinations, but you never really got the chance to explore them, what with your life being cut short.

Because of Quaritch.

He had taken your life not once, but twice.

There's gotta be some kind of award for that.

"Oh, perfect, he may be a murderer, but at least we don't have to add mutilation of a corpse to his list of fucking crimes," you grumble, wincing as he pulls your arms to help you sit upright. You still can hardly move without help, although you are healing a lot faster than you expected. Probably thanks to your enhanced Recom DNA.

"What else do you know about this Bukowski guy?"

"Not much, aside from the fact that he's apparently a creep, and I think I remember someone mentioning he's got a daughter. And apparently, he's Ardmore's newest-" you look at Kiri, and correct your choice of words- "newest, uh, assistant."

Kiri scoffs, probably guessing what you were about to say. You've heard all of them use some pretty choice words in the past, but still, you don't want to offend Neytiri by using too many foul words in front of her kids. You can already tell she doesn't like you; you don't want to push it.

"Tomorrow, me and Tonowari are gonna fly out to the Tan'ui village they burned down lookin' for me. The Olo'eyktan deserves a chance to give their say about what they want done with him."

"Sounds like his odds aren't looking very good."

"Well, what did he expect?"

You're not sure how to answer him, and instead, you ask to be taken to the beach. You settle into the sand with a sigh, lying flat on your back, carefully adjusting yourself so you don't strain your wound. Jake hovers, and it takes forever to convince him to leave you alone. You just want some peace and quiet, some time to yourself. You haven't had a chance to just be since... well, you can't remember. Maybe since you were dead, as far as you can remember.

But just seconds after he disappears around the bend, cold hands tug at your arms, and then clamp over your mouth as you open it to scream.

"Its' just me!" A voice whisper-yells harshly against your ear, and you whip your head around to see that it is Zdinarsik holding you down.

When she sees that you're calmed down, she removes her hand. "How the hell are you still alive?" You hiss, eyes darting around to see if anyone else is around. "They'll capture you if they see you!"

"I know, I've been keeping a low profile, but I've been listening enough to gather what's happening. They've got the Colonel and Lyle held in a tent a few spots down from here. I was going to get you, then get them, and then get the hell out of Dodge."

"No!-no, listen, we can work this out. We cannot leave," you start, but she's already shaking her head, pulling you to your feet, careful of your injury. 

"No, I was only waiting long enough for you to be mobile, but now that you're on your feet, we have to leave. Bukowski knows we're in the area, he survived the ship wreck, and Ardmore has already had people sent to the wreckage to salvage whatever was left. Although I think Jake did a pretty good job taking everything useful."

Shortly after you woke up, Jake got straight to work diving to the wreckage and gathering all of the guns and ammunition that he could get his hands on, with the help of Neteyam, Lo'ak, and Kiri. The Metkayina girl, Tsireya, also helped, although there was a huge fight about it. After all, the Na'vi believe that touching metal causes corruption of the soul.

"It's only a matter of time before they come back, and the first thing they'll do is come looking for us. I cut out my tracker, but it was last pinged off the coast of the island. They'll know."

"Then we'll fight! The Metkayina didn't back down from the fight at Three Brothers' Rock; they definitely won't back down if Ardmore plans on bringing the war to their front door. I'm done running, I want to fight!" You push her hands away, swaying on your feet slightly.

Z's lips purse into a solid line, and she exhales sharply.

"You really think they can handle themselves against the RDA?"

"I guess we'll just have to find out. But I am done letting Ardmore control me. I'm not going to spend my second life running from her."

She stares into your eyes, holding your gaze, searching for a way to change your mind- but she finds none. You decide to change the subject, reaching out to hold her arm, which is covered in scratches that have already begun to turn pink. "You kind of look like shit, Z."

Her cheeks are hollow, she's covered in healing gashes, and her clothes are completely tattered, hanging on by a thread. She glares, but it doesn't hit as hard because she's also grinning, shaking her head with a breathy chuckle. 

"Thanks, I've only been out here fighting for my life while you have had a whole pack doting on you hand and foot."

Just then, that pack descends around the beach, and a hundred voices overlap each other in a cacophony of shouts as the Metkayina swarm the sand. Jake is at your side in a second, as are Lo'ak and Netayam, all three of them hissing, with the boys drawing back their bowstrings, threatening Zdinarsik with poised arrows.

Z doesn't fight them, holding her hands into the air in surrender, her tail swinging around her legs as she assesses the situation. The Metkayina warriors hesitantly step forward, before snatching her wrists and binding them with thick, woven ropes. They shower her with questions and commands, but her eyes never leave yours. 

"Our lives are in your hands, Doc," she says, shouting over her shoulder at you as they drag her away. "I hope you know what you're doing!"

"I want to go with you!" You tug at Jake's arm as he walks past you. As best as you can, anyway, without injuring yourself further.

"Absolutely not! You're in no condition to fly, and they won't-"

"Won't what, Jake? Won't listen?"

"You're not one of us!" He barks suddenly, and you flinch. He doesn't miss it, and his ears pin flat, recoiling as if you'd slapped him. "I mean, not yet. You're still an outsider. Not bad, just-"

"Alien?"

"Outsider."

You're both almost chest-to-chest, locked in a lethal stare-down. You can't remember how many times you've gotten into arguments like this as a kid; fighting over what few toys you had, bickering over chores, debating on who would be the one to clean up Dad after he got sick all over himself. Despite being big and blue, Jake's firm glare is unmistakable.

And you've got the scoul to match it.

The silence is so heavy, it causes you to fold, and you clutch your stomach, unable to stand upright any longer. Jake falters, his hands flying to your arms to steady you as he eases you back down to the ground.

"Being accepted into the People is a process. It can't be done overnight. But the first step is doing damage control. Tonowari and I will be back soon. You drilled it all into me about how things really went down. I got all the information I need from both sides. We will go, speak our pieces, and hopefully be able to move on from this entire mess."

"And then what, brother? We just live happily-ever-after, while Bridgehead continues to destroy everything in the forest? You guys just hunker down and hide here forever? This isn't..." you struggle to find the right words, waving your hands in the air. "This isn't what I want. I want to live, not hide out on the beach until I die of old age. I want to take the fight to them. Like you did at Ayam Alysing."

Jake flinches at the name, and he shakes his head. "You weren't there. You don't know what happened. How many we lost. It's not as glorious as the kids keep making it sound."

Jake's eyes look past your shoulders as he falls away in his mind, and you place a hand on his wrist, pulling him back to the present. "I know, but this is war, Jake. We don't have the luxury of taking things slow."

Jake's lips harden into a firm line, and a heavy sigh hisses out of his nose.

"I'll discuss it with Tonowari. Now you rest, we'll be back in a day or two."

He jumps to his feet in one swift motion, grunting softly as his knees crackle. He ducks out of the tent, pecking a quick kiss to Neytiri's lips as she waits for him outside the entrance.

You wait until the sounds of the village return to normal, after everyone has said their farewells, before you crawl to your hands and knees. You grab the sides of Jake's hammock and haul yourself to your feet, carefully rising to your full height. You have to clutch the wound on your abdomen as the muscles tug painfully, and you stay hunched as you hobble down the woven walkways. Each step causes you to bounce, and you move slowly to keep your balance.

Until you're standing in front of the prisoner's tent. The guards outside eye you warily, but nod, allowing you to enter without a word. They know your face and know that you're not a threat.

Once inside, you clear your throat, and three heads snap in your direction.

Zdinarsik is the first to jump to her feet, striding over to you and wrapping her arms around you. "I was so worried. I got knocked off the ship, almost took a spear to the chest. I got sucked underneath the ship and dragged across the keel. That's how I got all cut up. I must have passed out and got caught in a current, because I woke up on the shore of the island. It took a few days until I recognized Jake and the kids flying to the wreckage, and I followed them home. That's when I learned what happened to you, and I'd been waiting ever since."

It all comes out in a rush, and you squeeze her arm reassuringly. "Well, thanks to the Tsahik, I'm all healed."

Then Lyle comes to stand behind her, his fist tapping your arm playfully. "I knew you were stronger than you looked."

You scoff in the back of your throat and shake your head, flicking your ears in his direction. "What can I say? I died once already. It didn't agree with me. Besides, somebody has to keep an eye on you guys."

They both share a chuckle, and then Lyle shifts on his feet, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

Because Quaritch is standing right behind them, watching you carefully from over their heads, his gaze unwavering, his face an emotionless mask.

The others sense the shift in the air, and they step away, telling you that they were glad to see you up and moving. Healing. They retreat to the farthest edge of the Marui to offer up what little privacy they can provide, lowering their voices to a hushed conversation between themselves, but you know it's probably just for show. Their ears are still pointed your way as they listen in.

You bite your lip, staring down at your feet, unable to look him in the eyes. Your pulse drowns out everything else out, and you suck in a shaky breath, gathering your courage as you shatter the heavy silence. "I know."

He doesn't respond, and your eyes shoot up to meet his as he slowly approaches. Like approaching a wild animal, he slowly reaches out to you, his fingers outstretched as his jaw flexes. Part of you wants to swat his hand, and the other part wants to embrace him. You're stuck somewhere in the middle, frozen by the thousand things running through your mind, giving him the opportunity to graze his fingers over your upper arm.

His hands easily swallow your arms as he grips them firmly, pulling you to his chest until you're flush against him. Then, hesitantly, he wraps his arms around you, burying his nose in your hair. You feel filthy, since you haven't had a chance to properly clean yourself since you left Bridgehead, but Quaritch doesn't seem to mind. His nose tickles your scalp, and a shiver runs through your body as he inhales deeply.

"Aren't you going to ask what I know?"

"No." His voice is nothing more than a hoarse whisper, and his heart pounds beneath your ear as you lean against him. "I know. I should have told you, I just... thought I was protecting you by keeping it a secret. I wasn't sure myself, at first. But that's no excuse."

"No, it's not. And you can't keep doing that. Starting now, no more secrets. That's not how the Na'vi live, and if we want to be accepted by them, then we gotta start living like them."

You pull away and crane your neck, just enough so you can look him in the eyes. His golden gaze sweeps over your face, memorizing every detail. "Do we have a future here, then?"

"I don't know yet. Jake left just a while ago to speak with the villages you burned about what justice they want. The Na'vi generally don't believe in revenge, but... times are different, right now."

The silence returns, only broken by the heavy sigh that leaves his nose.

"Whatever they want me to do, I'll make things right." He says after a while, his voice vibrating against your ear.  "Whatever they want."

You just hope that it will be enough. Even though you're mad at him, even though you're betrayed by everything that had happened leading up to your stabbing... You still don't want to lose him.

Your head is spinning with the emotional whiplash of everything, and youwrap your arms around his waist to give him a squeeze.

"I'm tired. I need to go lie down." You huff, pushing away from him. "I'll... come check on you guys later."

With that, you rush from the tent as fast as your wound will allow, your skin burning where his hands touched you. You send a prayer to the Great Mother, if she's listening, that the Na'vi will spare him.

Jake

The Tan'nui people are, justifiably, furious to discover that Quaritch and his team are alive and being housed by the Metkayina.

"They burned our home, brutalised our people, terrorized our families- all in search for you!" The Olo'eyktan, Norung, snarls.

Jake holds up his hands in defense, taking a step back as Tonowari glances warily between him and the chief. "I know, I know that. And there are no words to express the sorrow I feel for what's been done to your people, or the gratitude that we feel for the sacrifices you have made to keep my family safe. But, I have not come to condemn them for their actions."

The crowd roars, a loud mix of hissing and shouting, and Tonowari taps his arm. "Jake, are you sure about this?"

"I promised her that I would do everything I could to keep him alive. As much as I want to kill him."

Then, he turns back to the crowd, facing the Olo'eyktan, who is calling for his people to settle. In seconds, a wave of calm washes over them, and they all hold their breath to listen as the men speak.

"This man is a monster, I'm not arguin' that. But the People believe that everyone is born twice, right? Well, in the heat of battle, despite the orders that had been given to him, he saved my sister's life and has promised full cooperation in bringing down the Sky People's fortress. He has important knowledge about the inside, information that we could use to finally fight back and win. But, I also understand that he owes a debt to those he has wronged."

"So, why then have you come here? Take your knowledge and rid us of this burden. We wash our hands of this," the cheif blows a rush of air from his hands, emphasizing his words.

"Because I wanted to do this right. I... I've been running ever since the Sky People returned, and I brought this on all of you. I fled my home and endangered yours, so- in a way, I'm here to apologize. And to let you know that I am not going to allow what has happened go unpunished."

The chief scoffs. "That is because you still think like a Sky Person. We do not want revenge. What has been taken cannot be returned. We ask only that those responsible will not be able to do such to another People." He takes a breath. "And that this war be taken away from us. We want nothing to do with it. The Sky People are demons; they fight with no regard for the sanctity of life. We will not rally with Toruk Makto."

"I'm... I'm not here to rally the clans." Jake draws a shaky breath, clenching his fists at his sides. He opens his mouth to speak again, but Tonowari speaks over him.

"Thank you for your time, Olo'eyktan. We will respect your wishes. Know that the demons responsible will attone for their sins by serving the children of Eywa."

With that, he bows his head respectfully, waving his fingers in the air, as does the other chief, saying their parting blessings. Jake wants to say more, but he knows better than to speak over a man who has many more years under his belt as Olo'eyktan.

When they are out of earshot, gliding on the backs of their Skimwings, Jake finally speaks his question outloud. "Why does everyone insist on Toruk Makto? Lot of good it did us during the battle of Ayam Alysing."

Tonowari sighs, tightening his grip on the handhold at the base of the Skimwing's skull. "Toruk Makto is more than just a title. It is a symbol of unwavering strength. Toruk Makto only came to us during great times of calamity. As we are living in now. You saved us before. Why are you against doing so again?"

It takes almost a whole minute before Jake is able to find the right words.

"Because you don't understand the burden I have to carry after. All the lives that were lost... It's not worth it."

"And how many more would have been lost, had you not rallied the clans? If they did not want to fight and risk dying such a noble death, then they would have simply told you 'no', as the Tan'ui did."

Tonowari makes a good point, but that doesn't mean Jake's gotta like it. He clenches his jaw, focusing on the open ocean ahead as they ride back to Awat'lu. It took a few hours to get to the other island, but it feels like ages to return home.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER THREE

YOU

It took a few days before you got used to the loincloth and beaded top. To the Na'vi, it wasn't nudity. It was just their way of life. But for you, sadly, you'd gotten used to wearing the RDA-issued clothes.

It felt nice to have your skin exposed to the warm sun, and to feel the wind against you whenever the breeze picked up through the Marui.

Since you were still too weak to get up and wander by yourself for long periods of time, Kiri insisted on keeping you company. Tuk came and went, growing bored and restless easily, and the boys had jobs to do, so they only came to find you during meal times. Kiri kept your mind busy by asking every question under the sun about Grace, but you welcomed it.

Her questions keep you from thinking about him, because you can't handle that right now. And apparently, Jake refused to talk about Grace outside of whatever was necessary, so you were happy to oblige her. After all, no one else knew Grace as well as you.

"Lo'ak teases me all the time that Norm is my biological father because of all of their time in the woods alone, but... surely not, right?" Kiri winces as she mutters the words, her hands fidgeting with her mop of hair.

"That wouldn't be so bad, would it? Norm is an amazing man. Loyal and smart. I would think it an honor," you laugh softly, brushing your fingers through your hair to get out the tangles.

Kiri makes a noise of disgust in the back of her throat, and you laugh harder, until pain shoots through your stomach. When you finally catch your breath, you look back at her with a huff. "No. Despite how often he appeared in her video logs, he was otherwise involved with someone else."

"Thank you, Great Mother," she sighs under her breath, just as Neytiri ducks into the tent, depositing her weapons on the mount against the Marui's wall, her ears twitching at the sound of your voices.

"You braid your hair like a human," she hisses, and your hands fall still, abandoning the long, singular braid that you were actively twisting. Ever since you woke up, Neytiri has made no effort to hide her hostility towards you. Something that she and Jake argue about nearly every night.

"Mother," Kiri warns, rising to her feet so she was standing between the two of you. Neytiri pins her ears and then walks away, carrying a string of fish with her so she can clean them outside. "I'm sorry. She gets... jealous when I ask about her. That's why Dad never talks about her."

"I don't blame her. If my daughter idolized her birth mother, I'd get a little jealous too." You sigh. You know for a fact it had nothing to do with the Grace discussion, but you don't want to burden her with that. She's already got enough on her plate.

"I do not idolize her, I'm just... curious." Kiri tries to hide it, but you see right through her. You level her with a look, and she cringes away, distracting herself with your hair instead. "I can braid it so you look less human."

"I would love that," you smile weakly, watching as her shadow dances across the walls as the fire flickers from behind. Anything to make yourself less associated with the RDA.

She moves to stand behind you, pulling your hair back behind your shoulders so she can unwind it, separating it into sections. "I'm sorry about Mother, she... she's been different, ever since we left the forest."

"Your mother has suffered many things in her life. You were lucky to be born after the war. You... you haven't seen the worst of the RDA."

"It gets worse than the Tulkun?"

"Much worse." You whisper, and your eyes fall closed as you think back to your time as a human. "Grace and I... we did everything we could to convince them to move the mines to somewhere that the Ometikaya weren't occupying. They didn't know much about the world, but they knew enough to make the connection that wherever the floating mountains were, there were unobtanium deposits beneath. They didn't care about the Tree of Voices. Anything that was in their way was just an obstacle that could be removed with enough force. Including Hometree."

"You say that as if there was something you could have done to stop them," Kiri states observantly, twisting the top part of your hair into a knotted bun, using polished bone spurs to stab through your hair to keep it pinned in place. She starts twisting the lower part into smaller braids and finishes each one off with small wooden beads. She threads a bone needle with twine and knots the ends to keep the beads from sliding off.

"Every time I think back on it, I try to convince myself that there was something I could have done," you say, fidgeting with your top. "But in all honesty, there's nothing that we can do to stop them."

Nothing that doesn't involve a lot of bloodshed, but you figure she probably already knows that. It's the unspoken threat that hovers over the heads of all Na'vi. Instead, the conversation comes to a dead end, and a heavy silence weighs on your shoulders as she twists your hair methodically, dropping each finished braid over your shoulder. When she was done, she fished out a few feathers from her bag and sewed them into one of your braids, patting your back when she was done.

"I found those on the day that we met. We were exploring the ruins of the Battle. Dad forbade us from going that far away from Camp, but of course, we didn't listen. I think Eywa was pushing us there for a reason. Otherwise, we never would have found you." Your fingers glide over the soft feathers as she speaks, and a soft smile dances on your lips. 

"Thank you, Kiri." She shrugs as she gathers her things and then reaches a hand out to help you to your feet. 

"Come. We should go see how the others are doing."

Others, as in the other Recoms. You were still an other to her. To the People.

When Jake and Tonowari returned from speaking to the Tanu'i, they both shared with the Metkayina what was said across the waters. The Tanu'i didn't want anything to do with the Recoms, or the RDA, or war. Which is understandable. Hell, you wouldn't want anything to do with it either, if only you had the choice.

Unfortunately, you don't have that luxury.

The Metkayina felt the same. The Council of Tulkun met a day later, and the Matriarch and Patriarch claimed that death can only bring more death, and that it was not their way to kill, for any reason. The Metkayina sided with their soul sisters and brothers, and the Recoms- and you- were spared.

Spared from hard manual labor, though?

No.

And although you're still on the fence about what you feel for Quaritch, you have to admit that watching him sweat under the baking sun as he rebuilds huts or repairs canoes, his muscles rippling under his cerulean skin, glistening in the light, is all very enjoyable. And not a bad way to pass the time.

You approach him as he rises to his full height, wiping a hand across his face to clear it as you reach towards him with a water bladder in your hands. He doesn't say a word, nodding graciously as he gulps the water. Droplets trickle out of the corners of his mouth and down the length of his neck, and you have to clear your throat and look away, betrayed by something feral that lingers in your mind.

When he was finished drinking, he passed the bladder to Lyle, who was staring longingly at it. It was strange to see him without his glasses, which had been lost in the fight on the ship. His hair was also starting to grow back, but in your opinion, it looks better shaved. Or rather, it was familiar shaved.

It was also a shock to see them wearing loincloths fashioned from leather and woven fibers, and dried-braided seaweed. All of their RDA-issued belongings had been burned after Jake returned from the Tanu'i, and you swallow hard, trying not to stare as you see more of Quaritch than you are prepared for. Neteyam, acting as their translator for now, hovers a foot away, watching the two of you warily, probably under the instruction of his father.

"I like your hair," Quaritch shatters the heavy silence, taking one of the small braids between his fingers, gently rolling the wooden bead under his thumb. He tugs it once and then lets it fall back into place, and you huff softly.

"Thanks."

God, why is this so awkward? How are you supposed to move past everything that's gone down between the two of you?

"How's your wound?"

"Healing," you sigh, absentmindedly smoothing your hand over the bandages. It was still tender and hard to stand, but you could at least lie on your side now. "Going to leave a pretty nasty scar."

"It'll be a good story for the grandkids," his lips twitch with the ghost of a smile, and you can't help but grin in return, shaking your head. The wooden beads jangle softly, and you tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, stepping away from him with the now-empty bladder in tow.

"I'll see you at dinner?"

"If I'm allowed."

The silence returns, and you nod, wordlessly shuffling away. Kiri extends her arm to you, and you take it graciously, leaning into her as she steers you towards a large Maru'i filled with women. They were each weaving baskets, their materials scattered all around, while men and women knotted fishing nets along the outer walls. You pick your way around the others until you find Zdinarsik, dropping to the floor with a soft huff.

"That was painful to watch," Kiri laughs, dropping a bundle of materials beside you.

Z glances out of the corner of her eye, and the edges of her mouth twist into a smile. "You go and see the Colonel?"

"Yes," you say defensively, plucking the first few fibers from the pile, mirroring Kiri's deft movements as she starts a basket. To Kiri, you say, "Why?"

"Things are awkward between Mom and Dad right now, because of, well- you know- everything. But at least they can carry on a conversation without shrinking up like loreyu."

"I'm sorry, it's only like the man killed me in a past life, then resurrected me, then took everything from me, and then saved me over and over again... It makes things complicated!"

Kiri holds up a palm in mock surrender, but she doesn't bother to hide her grin. "Is anything ever un-complicated?"

You glare down at the fibers in your hands, twisting them too tightly, and they splinter in your grasp. Kiri scoffs, sweeps the pieces away, and then helps you start again.

"And what about you? You've always got something to say," you stare pointedly at Z.

"I'm not sayin' shit." She chuckles, alternating the colors in her basket artfully. She picked the skill up quickly and claimed that it was relaxing, like disassembling a rifle. Mind numbing. "One, I'm just as complicated. Two, it's not my business."

The sounds of soft murmuring conversations fall over your trio as everyone focuses on their baskets, until Kiri huffs softly. "Complicated, like working beside a woman who kidnapped your siblings and threatened your life, on multiple occasions?"

Z makes a tsk sound in the back of her mouth, jerking her head in a terse nod. "Exactly."

Part of the 'rehabilitation' of the Recoms included a public apology to the Sully family, and to the Metkayina. Ronal was unimpressed, and she was very vocal with her distaste about the entire situation. It was clear that the only reason she allowed it at all was that Tonowari seemed to side with Jake, and unlike Neytiri, she does not argue with her husband.

Which made sense once you learned that it was Ronal's spirit sister who was killed during the hunt to draw Jake out of hiding. Although Quaritch didn't pull the trigger, he still played a major part in all of it, and he had a lot to pay for.

The children were... mixed, to say the least. Tuk was very much of the mindset of 'it's in the past', 'water under the bridge' kind of thing. Then again, her attention span only accommodated so much. Kiri was hesitant but willing to forgive, because that is the way of the Na'vi.

Lo'ak, on the other hand, was visibly angry and refused to be around the Recoms unless it was absolutely necessary. Then again, his anger seemed to be reflected back to everyone and everything, and he spent most of his days in the water.

Neteyam was... indifferent. He didn't suffer directly under the hands of the Recoms as much as the others did, and was following the orders given by his father as the dutiful son.

As you stew in your thoughts, your hands work mindlessly at the basket in between them, until it is finished, just in time for lunch. Kiri and Z help you stand, and you use your basket to carry ingredients back to the Sully Marui, where you and Kiri prepare the food as the others filter in.

Some days seem to drag on forever, and you only grow more restless as your body takes its sweet, precious time to heal, much to your frustration.

The children are practicing their swimming. You watch from the dock, swishing your feet in the cool water lazily. You've been instructed not to submerge yourself in water until you are fully healed, to prevent infection.

You make for a much better doctor than you do a patient, because your instinct is to argue. The salt content of the water would be just enough to keep the wound sanitized; it would just need to be cleaned thoroughly after leaving the water! Then again, the poultice would wash away, and you could tear open a hernia if you strain too much in the water, and there's no way you would be able to perform a reparative surgery on yourself, and the Na'vi don't have the technology to do such a thing...

"Penny for your thoughts?"

A voice sighs loudly from beside you, and you jump slightly as Lyle hits the deck. He drops his feet into the water, just as you are, only he takes it a step further and reaches down to scoop up handfuls of liquid to splash over himself.

He and Quaritch are still working on canoes a few meters down the beach, and they must be taking a break to eat.

"Just thinking about how ready I am to be healed." You pout, kicking the water.

He laughs softly, shaking his head. "You never were very patient, huh?"

You smile, hiding your face by staring down at your hands, which rest over the bandages.

"I know it's really none of my business, but... You ever gonna forgive the Colonel?"

Your ears twitch at his question, and you dare to sneak a glance at him, your cheeks heating up. "It's complicated, Lyle. I can't just... let it all go. I need time. I forgive him, sort of, but also, I'm just- ugh-" you growl, struggling to find the right words. "I just need time."

"Hey, I get that! Shit's been complicated since we all woke up. But you also have to understand that you're all he has. I mean, sure, he's got me and Z, but it's just us, you know? We're not part of the Clan, and without the RDA, we have no one. We're outcasts on an alien planet. We gotta stick together."

You know exactly what he means, because that's exactly how you have felt since you arrived at the Metkayina. Outsider.

"I'll take that into consideration." You mutter, looking back down at your hands.

The water bubbles near your feet, and Tuk bursts from underneath, rubbing her eyes as she blinks away the water. She holds up a seashell triumphantly, a massive grin splitting her face. "Look! I dived all the way down to the bottom of the reef! I got this for you. We can make it into a bracelet!"

Her enthusiasm is infectious, and you match her smile, taking it graciously. "That's very sweet of you, you didn't have to do that!"

"I'm going to see if I can do it again. Maybe, we can have matching ones!"

And just like that, she's gone again. Her youth has made it easier for her to adapt to the ways of ocean life, and already, her clothing is starting to reflect her acceptance of her time here. In fact, you've noticed that all of the Sully children are starting to wear similar clothes to those of the Metkayina. The only one who seems to hesitate is Neytiri. Not that you spend a lot of time around her; her icy glare is enough to send you running into the other room.

You're not oblivious to her true feelings about you, and if it wasn't for you being Jake's sister, you know that she'd have you locked away with the others, or probably worse.

You clench your fist around the seashell until it cuts into your palm, grounding yourself back into the moment. You see Lyle shift out of the corner of your eye, and you look over at him quizically.

"What's up?"

"Nothing, just... Just her. She reminds me of my baby sis."

Your ears flick, and you shift until you're facing him more fully. "I didn't know you had a sister, Lyle."

"I don't really talk about it much. Especially not now. My mom had me real young. She was barely fifteen. Raised me on the streets and was off and on with different guys. Evetually she got knocked up again, and the guy married her. Step-dad raised me as best as he could, but I was a total shit as a kid and teen. Ran off to be with a girl before I was eighteen. Mom got knocked up one last time, and it was my baby sister. They all called her the miracle baby, 'cause after my brother, she got pretty messed up inside. Doc's told her she wouldn't be able to have any more."

You listen patiently, watching as a wave of emotion takes over his features. "Anyway, I didn't know about her until I was done with Basic. I came home and found out I was a new big brother. I started showing up more for her. She was the angel of the family. Spoiled as hell, but precious," he laughs softly, shaking his head. "She called me Ly-Ly. I kept telling her, 'It's Lyle darlin', but she insisted on calling me Ly-Ly. When I was on leave, I would always come home and stay with them so I could play with her. She'd make me play house for hours."

"Then what happened?" The way he talks about her gives you a sense of dread, and you probe gently, not wanting to stir up bad things from the past unless he was willing to talk about them.

"She was ten when I deployed for Pandora. I was planning on splitting the money with my mom to help take care of Gina, my sister. Mom was sick- ovarian cancer- and between her medical bills and just the cost of living, I wanted to help out. The pay was too much for me to spend all on myself anyway. Might as well do some good. Plus, I enjoyed the work." He stares out at the ocean, just as Tuk breaks the surface once more, sucking in a deep lungful of air before diving back down with a splash. "She was ten. Then it took six years to get here, I served for about five, then resigned my contract for a hell of a bonus, served another six- then died. And sixteen years after that, I woke up and was told I could never contact my family again. It would be a breach of contract, which I had signed when I was still human. After all, we were RDA property, not an individual."

"And now she's all grown up?" If you count the math in your head correctly, she's probably about 42 years old.

"I missed everything. I called up their files; I didn't care if I was breaking a rule. Mom died shortly after I left, and Gina's dad wanted nothing to do with her after that. She was raised in an orphanage, and then after that, nothing. No records of employment, no adoption, no death certificate. I have no idea what happened to her- still don't. There's no telling with the way life is over there. But I like to think that she made a life for herself. She was a tough kid, strong-willed and stubborn as hell. I know she's out there."

"I'm sorry you couldn't find out more about her. And I'm sorry that Tuk brings all that up," you pat his arm awkwardly, and he flicks his ears, smirking. You've learned that that is his way of hiding what he's really got going on inside.

"Nothing you can control, why be sorry? It just makes me feel worse because we terrorized those kids. Tried to use them as bargaining chips when they're just kids. Children that got caught in the crossfire." He shrugs, pushing away until he's back on his feet. "Anyway, I'm happy to make up for it all by helping out. It's hard work, and the uniform is unfortunate, but... yeah. Gotta make a difference somehow, right?"

"That's a noble thought, Lyle. Thank you for telling me all of that. I'm sure it was nice to get it out, huh?"

"Mm, debatable." He hums, flicking his fingers in a mock salute as he moves to step away. He hesitates, turning to say one last thing. "Just... think about the Colonel? Maybe check on him?"

"I'll think about it," you huff, swiping the air to shoo him away. He retreats with that familiar smirk on his face, shaking his head lightly as he rejoins Quaritch on the beach. You can see Neteyam scolding him in the way that he gestures his hands, but Lyle just shrugs, bending down to grip the massive logs and haul them back to their worksite.

Quaritch shields his eyes from the bright sun, staring down the beach until he locks eyes with you.

Despite the distance, you could feel the heat of his gaze as if he had his hands on you, right there. You suck in a breath and jerk your head away, especially since the light from above is perfectly accentuating his chiseled muscles in deep shadows. You shift awkwardly on the dock, choosing to stare out into the water as Tuk resurfaces once more- a new shell in hand.

Dinner among the Metkaina is a communal event. The entire village gathers around a massive fire, and the scent of roasted fish and vegetables fills the air as you near it. You could feel the heat of the flames before you could see it, and the roar is almost deafening. For a moment, you get a flashback of the day Quaritch and Bukowski were burning the Tan'ui, and you have to squeeze your eyes shut to clear your mind.

Kiri grips your elbow, shaking you lightly as she feels you stop. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, I just need a second to catch my breath," you lie, pulling her hand free. "You go ahead and find your family, I'll join you in a second."

She doesn't look convinced, but relents anyway, joining the flow of traffic as they file down the length of the beach, plates in hand.

You move in the opposite direction, wandering down a dock to lean against a thick wooden pillar, which juts out from the ocean. You lean your forehead against it with a heavy sigh, waiting for your heart to calm down as you focus on the waves gently lapping at the shore.

Footsteps softly pad towards you, and your ears twitch as they follow the movement, until they come to stop just a few feet behind.

You could recognize that scent anywhere.

"Jake let you off your leash?"

You don't bother looking over your shoulder as you speak to Quaritch, and he makes a frustrated noise in the back of his throat.

"No, he's standing a few meters back."

You turn your head and find Jake hovering, as usual. His hands are on his hips, and his lips are pursed, ears flattened as he watches the scene unfold like a disapproving father. You don't need a cheuffure, especially with Quaritch. The damage has been done; there's nothing worse he could do to you, but Jake doesn't seem to care either way.

"I saw you come over here and just wanted to check that you were good." Quaritch shifts on his feet as he rubs the back of his neck hesitantly. "Guess I'll just, uh... leave you to it."

Your teeth nibble at your bottom lip, and before you can think twice about it, you call out to him. He turns to face you once again as his name tumbles past your lips, and you push away from the post, reaching for his hand.

His skin is warm and rough under your touch, and you slide your fingers down until they are intertwined with his. You tug him closer, and his hands instinctively move to your waist, careful to avoid the bandages that are woven around the trunk of your body. Your free hand flies to his face, and you cup his cheek, forcing him to meet your eyes.

"I should be the one to ask if you are okay."

Beneath your palm, the muscles in his jaw twitch, and a line forms between his eyebrows as they furrow. He swallows hard, and you suck in a breath as a wave of emotion consumes his features, despite how hard he is fighting to keep it contained. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Jake shifting uncomfortably on his feet, granting you a shred of privacy by turning his back on the pair of you.

"Not really." You can barely hear him. It comes out as a hoarse grunt, and your grip on his jaw tightens as he tries to look away.

"I should have checked on you sooner. I was just... scared. And I know that's no excuse but-"

"You were bleeding out in my arms. You could have died, again, and it would have been my fault-"

"No! I'm the one who jumped on Bukowski, I'm the one who ignored you- and Jake- I put myself in that position!"

"And I put you on that ship." He grips your wrists to pull them from his face, casting his gaze to the floor. "Everything- all of this- was because of me. I got my entire team killed. Failed my mission- repeatedly- and now we are hiding out in fucking tents, because our only other option would be the firing squad."

You open your mouth to speak, but he cuts you off. "And the worst part? I would have been fine with dying. I ain't scared of that. But watching you lie there, lifeless, wondering-waiting- for days if you were alive or not... and then to see you walking around but ignoring me... I've been dying slowly, and you hadn't even stopped to notice."

Now it's your turn to look away. Your cheeks burn in shame, because all this time, nearly two weeks since you arrived on the island, and you had hardly spoken more than a handful of words to him. And the only excuse you have for yourself is that you've been a coward, hiding from your feelings. Because what will Jake think of you when he sees just how much you love him? How will the Na'vi treat you when they know that your heart had been taken by the enemy?

Your mouth gapes as you scramble to form a thought, but the words die on your tongue. Instead, you pull yourself free from his grasp, despite the twinge of pain that protests in your abdomen as you reach around him. Your palm glides down the length of his kuru, starting at the base of his skull, and a shudder runs through his entire body. You pull yours around your shoulder, and despite standing there in the open, where anyone can see, you allow the ends of your braids to intertwine, forming the bond.

His pupils dilate as he stares down at you, and you have to crane your neck to stare up at him fully. 

His thoughts flood your mind, and his emotions hit you stronger than the ocean waves as you feel it all. The worry, the fear, the pain. His desire, his longing, his shame. Everything, the big and small. He shares it all with you, and tears trail from the corner of your eyes as you open yourself up to him.

You show him the war that's been raging inside of you, ever since you woke up. The pain at his betrayal for shutting you out, pretending to be the Colonel that Ardmore expected, pretending to be as heartless as Bukowski. The anguish you felt as he grasped at straws to draw Jake out, including killing the Tulkun and kidnapping the kids- again. You show him your anger and hurt, the confusion in your heart... all of it.

Your heart tells him what your mouth can't, and although you're not quite sure what it's telling him, it seems to be enough.

His lips press against yours hesitantly, and you sigh against his mouth, angling your head, opening yourself up to him, even though you're still not sure how you feel-

"Alright, that's enough!" Jake barks from the end of the dock, and you jump, having completely forgotten he was even there. He must have gotten curious at the silence and turned to see the two of you locked in a heated kiss.

Your cheeks flare with a furious blush, and Quaritch grins, kissing the flat tip of your nose. His hands gently pull apart your kurus, and you rise to the balls of your feet so you can bump your forehead against his, rubbing against his skin so his scent will linger.

Jake stomps up the dock, fed up with the two of you. He slams his palm against Quaritch's chest to make him take a step back, while his other hand nestles into the crook of your elbow, steering you away.

You glance at Quaritch over Jake's shoulder to see that he's still smirking like an idiot, trailing after you and Jake, although, wisely, he's about a meter behind.

A tense silence settles over the three of you as you all return to the Clan, finding open seats next to the others where your meal was waiting, cold.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER FOUR

TYLER BUKOWSKI

It's not like him to come running home with his tail between his legs. Literally and figuratively.

Tyler Bukowski is not one to fail his mission.

Yet there he stands in General Ardmore's office, tuning out the tantrum that she's throwing about her ship being at the bottom of the ocean, when all he can think about is how to finish what he's started.

He knew Quaritch was trouble the minute he laid eyes on him. The Sully woman, too. He'd been briefed on what to expect from the first batch of Recoms that had been revived for Project Phoenix, and that there may be behavioral abnormalities, since the science was still relatively new. He'd been warned that they might defect, because even though their memories were uploaded from their human version, there's no way to cut out the animal part of their brains to keep them from empathising with the Na'vi.

It was a malady that was supposedly remedied with the new batch that was being decantered while he was getting chewed out by the General.

This tiny, insignificant human General. It was almost comical how small she was compared to his new form. His one hand alone was almost the length of her abdomen. He could crush her spine with a pinch, if he really wanted to.

Just food for thought.

"Are you even listening to me? You just had your ass handed to you by a fucking lab coat, some kids, and a rogue Colonel. You lost one of my best asset producers, not to mention all of the weapons on that damn thing- and you wanna sit there and fucking grin about it?" Her lisp thickens as her frustration grows, and she rounds the corner of her desk so she can stand right in front of him. She cranes her neck to meet his eyes, doing her best to be as intimidating as possible.

It doesn't work, but he won't let her know that.

"Ma'am, I don't think it's funny at all. They killed two of my guys and still managed to get away. And I fully plan on catching them and forcing them to pay for their crimes. A public execution is inevitable now."

He couldn't care less about the Sea Dragon, or Hanes or Smith. They were just collateral. Nothing more than faceless names on a report that he had to fill out for later. No, bringing in Quaritch and killing his girl had nothing to do with revenge. For Bukowski, it was all about power.

For years, he had to deal with Quaritch and his insatiable need to prove that he had the biggest dick in Pandora. That he was top dog, King of the Hill. And no matter how hard Bukowski fought, no matter how many missions he completed or ranks that he climbed, he never got the recognition that he deserved. 

Quaritch had Selfridge whipped like a good little bitch, and he was practically eating out of Quaritch's palm there at the end. It wasn't until the war with the Na'vi reached its boiling point that Selfridge realized his mistake in letting Quaritch have all the military power he requested, because once he mobilized all of Hell's Gate- civilians and all- Quaritch was unstoppable.

Well, almost unstoppable. Until a certain fucking Marine switched sides and rallied the other clans on Pandora to fight back.

Mutiny runs in the fucking Sully family, apparently.

And then Quaritch failed to subdue the Na'vi, and they got the better of the RDA, and sent them home with their tails between their legs, and Bukowski lost out on a billion-dollar deal that was supposed to buy his baby girl a ticket to heaven.

Quaritch cost him everything. And now he's not going to stop until he's taken everything back.

"No. I'm not going to waste any more resources on him or Jake. They're in the wind, and so long as they think you're coming for them, they'll stay out of town. No, I need you here coordinating with the new team. You'll be running protection and security for the Bridge. The last of the installments is dropping from the Venture as we speak, and as soon as it's assembled, I want it up and running."

"The Bridge, ma'am?"

"The Beta Bridge. If this is supposed to be the new home for humanity, the first step is to start making it home. I'm not gonna explain the science to you, it's above your pay grade. All you need to know is that I can't have any of those savages messing with it, so I need you out there as my eyes. Shouldn't be hard for you, though. There's one asset in particular that I think you'll be especially interested in keeping safe."

Right.

Lena.

When Bukowski first signed his contract with the RDA, Lena was just a little girl. Six years old, full of energy and curiosity, but starving thanks to overcrowding. Bukowski took the opportunity to buy her a better life by flying to Pandora. The money was too good to turn down, even if it meant leaving behind his baby girl. Six years to fly out. Five years to serve, and then another six for the return journey.

Only his tour was interrupted by a certain fucking failure of a Colonel and an AWOL Marine-turned-blue-monkey. So what was supposed to be a billion-dollar contract turned into a fraction of that, and when he landed back on Earth, Lena had already signed away her life to debt collectors.

She said her education was more important than living in a house or eating, because she knew she could suffer through the present if it meant making a better furure for herself. When he got home, she was sleeping in abandoned buildings and surviving off of that spirulina-protein shit that the government pumped out to feed the masses, since even the governments of the world couldn't afford anything better. He was supposed to be set for life. He never thought he'd live long enough to see retirement, but once he saw all the zeros on the checks that he had been promised, he thought that maybe gettin' old wasn't such a bad idea.

Then that got fucked up, too.

And after everything that he had sacrificed, after all the lives he had taken in the name of Greater Good, they were both subjected to couch surfing at friends' houses, then to shelters, and eventually, dilapidated buildings. He swears that if he ever smells a plankton-sourced protein cube ever again, he'll burn down the building.

He was meant for more. He had a purpose. A destiny.

And that shit just wasn't it.

So when he got the letter notifying him that the government had sanctioned for the RDA's return trip to Pandora, he was one of the first to volunteer. Especially when they offered him a spot for a new experimental Black Ops nicknamed Project Phoenix. It was off the books, for now, and he was strictly informed that he would never be allowed to return to Earth when his mission was complete. He wasn't mad about that, especially not since Pandora will be the new home for humanity. The pay was more than double what he was making as just another grunt doing the legwork in the jungle, and Lena had hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt thanks to her taste for a finer education.

An education that led her down the path of astrogeology and xenobotonay.

There was no denying that Lena was a Bukowski, born and bred, because they prevail, no matter the obstacle. Finances be damned, Lena got herself to Pandora one way or another, despite his failure.

"She lands tomorrow." Bukowski grunts, acknowledging Ardmore. "She'll be on the ground team out there?"

"Well, her Avatar will. Just as you asked. Whenever she's ready, I've authorized the transfer without any genetic alteration, unlike the other Recoms on the Blue Team. She'll help get the Bridge up and running." Ardmore sighs, gulping down the last dregs of her coffee as she leans against the desk, stretching out her legs. "I'll run a debrief once she's topside. For now, go get cleaned up and report back tomorrow, oh-eight-hundred. First order of business will be gettin' you and your team locked in with some banshees. We tranqued a few the other day and have them in holding."

He doesn't bless her with a verbal acknowledgment. He presses his fingers against his forehead in a stiff salute and then spins on his heel, retreating from the room at a brisk pace, all the way to the infirmary. 

He was lucky to walk out with just a few cuts and scrapes after the whale came crashing down on the Sea Dragon, and everything else that followed. Honestly, he's the only one who escaped almost completely unscathed. Things could've ended up the way they did for the captain of the Sea Dragon. What was his name, Colbey? Korbey?

Whatever his name is, it doesn't matter. He's down an arm and a ship, and Bukowski doesn't see him serving any other purposes than taking up precious oxygen that could be spared for someone else worth the air he's breathing.

When he first got here, Bridgehead was a confusing maze of processing plants, administration buildings, and housing divisions with a booming population of almost 43,000 people. It should've taken fifty years to build something this complex at this massive a scale, but thanks to the latest advancements in AI robotics, the swarm assemblers quadrupled what a human crew was capable of.

And the fact that they could 3D print building materials out of carbon polymer compounds on demand only made things that much faster. But for all of its glory, it still wasn't a place for living. They were still strictly in survival mode. But not for much longer.

He jumps out of the way as a vehicle barrels down the roads, wading through crews of humans as they return to their lodging for the night after a long day of labor. Massive screens on the sides of the buildings boast news broadcasts of Earth updates, and a woman's voice echoes off the metal buildings as she announces whatever headlines they've been force-feeding the masses back on Earth.

"Pandora: Humanity's Last Frontier! And in the heart of this untamed land, General Ardmore valiantly builds the new home for humanity; Bridgehead City!" The light of the billboards is almost blinding as they flash bright and dizzying images of the sprawling jungles, floating mountains, and dazzling lakes in an attempt to lure in more volunteers for the workforce.

More target practice, it was more like.

Grunts were dropping by the day, thanks to the ever-present raids on their supply trains. Although the massive blast radius of the drop ships provided a spacious dead zone that surrounded the city, it did nothing to protect the Mag-Lev from any attacks from the Na'vi. The supply drops had to remain a safe distance from the city to prevent damage from the rocket's exhaust, and despite being under heavy military protection, the Na'vi were designed for this environment. He's still not sure how they manage to stay on top of the drop schedules, but he's determined to find out.

If Ardmore wasn't going to let him go back out after Sully and Quaritch for now, then he'd have to divert that energy elsewhere. After all, he can't have these kinds of raids happening on the Beta Bridge once it's up and running.

He's still not 100 percent sure what it does, but Lena does her best to explain it over the video call, which he answers as soon as he is in the sanctuary of his room inside the Recom Facility.

"It's a rig-based machine that'll help us get a jump-start on terraforming the moon. Because of Pandora's intense magnetic fields, continental shifts are a little more drastic and frequent than what we've seen on Earth. Which, honestly, is perfect for us, because all we'll have to do is find a small continent, set up a perimeter of the betabridge, and from there, we can start creating a greenhouse dome and get to work on lowering the Xenon content of the atmosphere. The plan is to start small and then expand as we can."

Bukowski is trying, really trying to listen to her, but it's hard when she drones on like this. She must see it in his eyes, because she switches gears, dumbing down the words into simpler phrases so he can better grasp the idea. "Pandora's atmosphere is twenty percent more dense than Earth's, so if we start small and manipulate the atmosphere, we can create a breathable pocket space for humans to hopefully be able to live in long term."

She continues to ramble on, but cuts herself off suddenly. "Dad! Focus!"

"Sorry, darlin', I just... It's been a long day. Yesterday, we suffered an attack from the natives, and they destroyed one of our water vessels and killed about 200 of our guys. Things have been a little chaotic lately." To emphasize his exhaustion, he rubs a hand down his face, leaning on his elbows towards the screen.

In the bottom corner, he catches a glimpse of himself. The sight of his new face still gives him a shock every time he looks in the mirror.

Blue skin, dappled with white translucent dots and faded stripes. Wide flat nose. Massive feline eyes, with ears and fangs to match. Not to mention his towering height. He clocks in at about 2.5 meters of pure lean muscle. Not to mention the energy. It felt good to be twenty-something again. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like.

Lena looks uneasy, and by the way she avoids his eyes, he knows that she's still not used to it either. She'll have to get over that eventually, though, 'cause he didn't fight his ass off to make millions to pay for her Avatar body for her to wuss-out at the last second.

"It'll get easier," he reassures her, and she scoffs, shaking her head lightly.

"I don't know, it's all just so... weird. When you said 'make Pandora sustainable', I was hoping that I'd be able to do it as a human."

"Sweetheart, you and I both know that this project is going to take years, possibly even a few generations, before we're able to start properly colonizing here. But for those of us who are doing the grunt work, we can't be held back by human stamina or exo-packs. Trust me, this is the best step for us."

"I'm just worried about being mistaken as one of them," she sneers the last word, and he knows exactly what she means. Even he has a hard time telling the difference at first glance. It's only until he's really looking that he can spot the minuscule differences between a Recom and a Na'vi. Smaller eyes. The extra finger. More hair. "I mean, did you see that broadcast from earlier? I almost couldn't watch; it made me feel sick."

While he had been riding back to Bridghead on the lifeboats with the other survivors, another attack by the Insurgency had laid waste to another maglev. Thankfully, it was just building supplies for the new housing division- not weapons, food, or the Betabridge- but the human escort team had been absolutely slaughtered by the savages. Ardmore gave the green light to share the footage that had been recovered from the black boxes with Earth, spewing out more hateful propaganda against the Na'vi.

Although, because of the Interplanetary Commerce Administration, mass production of weapons is still prohibited. Ardmore is hoping that broadcasting the attacks will encourage them to change their minds on that front. The more angry recruits that land on Pandora, the better. If troops have revenge in their hearts, then that means that his job will be easier when it comes to flushing out the enemy.

Things just get messy when morals and empathy start getting thrown into the mix.

"Anyways, I think I'm going to turn in. I still feel off from Cryo. But, I'll see you in the morning?" She smiles up at him, still looking over his shoulder- through him- but for a second, he sees the little girl he left behind, all those years ago. How had she become a woman so fast?

"I'll be waiting for you on the tarmac," he grunts, giving her a tight-lipped smile before switching the camera off.

With her, he'll also be greeting his new Blue Team, although they'll still be in their incubation pods when they land. Five new recruits: Ramsay, Garcia, Cotton, Melby, and Marston. Four males and one female, and supposedly, this team would actually follow orders.

Despite the late hour and his bone-deep exhaustion, he taps the screen of his desktop and pulls up the video files that had been saved in an archive titled Blue Team Training. The file opens up with a list of security-style footage, and at the center of the screen is the Sully woman. Quaritch's woman.

She must've been a fine piece of ass to make him turn that easily. Bukowski's gotta admit, she is beautiful- was beautiful. It's a shame to have killed her before he could have a taste for himself, but it was him or her, and he chose the latter. If only he had been able to kill Quaritch. Jake Sully was right there. Half of his problems could've been solved in an instant, but now... not so much.

The first video starts playing with the touch of a button, and her voice fills the cavernous space of the room. "As I'm sure you've noticed by now, Avatars and Recoms are affected by their Human DNA in many distinctive ways..."

Her voice is soft and soothing, and there's something so different about the woman on the screen than the one he had grown familiar with on the ship. This woman still held the calm and poise of a human. Fresh, unperverted by the jungle outside and Na'vi influence. The woman on the ship? She was one step away from being full-blown savage. Seeing her face painted in a spray of human blood like warpaint after she mowed them down with a staff... It was almost laughable to say that that woman was the very same as the one on his screen now. Preaching about the balance of nature, the beauty of the world around them.

No wonder these files are locked. 

He's got a lot of editing to do if he plans on filtering out the hippy-shit she's spewing right now. The new Recoms don't need any influence other than basic survival. He's got his work cut out for him.

Just as he was ordered, he struts into the Admin center, where holographic screens were already up, displaying projected images from the subs surrounding the now shipwrecked Sea Dragon.

A voice crackles overhead, corresponding with the two figures in the center of the holo-screens. Ardmore, and another that he hadn't realized was already topside.

Parker Selfridge.

"There's pretty much nothing left. I mean, the equipment for Amrita harvesting is damaged beyond repair, the hull is torn to shreds from crashing into the rocks, and all of our weapons are gone. It looks like they got here before us."

The face-cam from inside the diver's mask pops up in the corner of one of the screens, and he recognizes the human doctor from the ship. The Marine Biologist, Ian Garvin. 

Ardmore shakes her head with a scoff. "Fucking rats."

"So, what are the financials looking like? I need to know what to put in my report back to Corporate." As always, Selfridge only cares about the money.

"I'll have to run the numbers. I've already got the factory working on printing another ship, but it will be a few weeks before it's operational." Ardmore grunts, and Selfridge shakes his head.

"No, no, no. That's not gonna work for me- look, Amrita is the only resource left we have funding this thing! Unobtanium is basically worthless now that the RDA knows that there is something more valuable out there, so I need that ship up and running A.S.A.P.!" Selfridge crosses his arms and turns to face Ardmore, who looks less than unimpressed with his antics.

Despite what he thinks, Selfridge has no real power here. His only purpose is to make the RDA feel better about having a voice in the happenings on Pandora, and to keep the ICA in the dark when they have to use tactics that are deemed "inhumane". Maintaining good rapport with the humans back on Earth is just as important as money and supplies, because all it could take to pull the plug on the entire operation is one too many negative humanitarian reports.

Which is why people like Dr. Sully needed to be taken off the board.

Sympathizers are just as dangerous as a bomb around here.

Bukowski clears his throat to announce his presence, interrupting Selfirdge's little fit. "With all due respect, we lost a lot of men and women in that battle. Forcing them to go right back out would come off as heartless to those who died in the fight."

Selfridge's nostrils flare as he fumes silently, and Ardmore smirks from under the rim of her hat. Garvin ignores them completely, paddling through the wreckage as he takes pictures and scans of everything he can see, while crab-crews scuttle along the surface of the ship, cutting the material up to salvage the scraps.

Bukowski doesn't see the point in wasting time on moving the metal, because the Na'vi won't touch the stuff. The weapons were the result of Sully, and now that he's armed with an unmeasured amount of RDA-issued guns and ammunition, it should be the Na'vi that Armdore is worried about.

"General, once again, I would like to propose the idea of taking a team back to the islands and starting a search grid for Sully and Quaritch. With those guns missing, he could be arming them as we speak for an assault."

"No, he's not stupid enough to attack the city outright. But he will attack any squads we send out. So, Garvin, I need you and your team back to Bridghead as soon as you've got it stripped down to the skeleton."

"Uh, sure." Dr. Garvin grunts awkwardly, although Bukowski can see that his attention is on a squad of alien fish that have already made the shipwreck their new home as they flit about between the gaping holes left behind from the assault on the ship.

Ardmore closes the communication line, and she turns her attention back to him. "The new recruits will be landing shortly. While they are recovering from being decantered, I'm going to use our satellites to scan the moon for available candidate islands that have low population and small surface area to get a start on the Beta Bridge project. When I come up with a list, I'll send you and your team out, with Lena in tow. She'll need to collect samples and take more thorough scans of the island, but I'll leave it up to her to pick the one she thinks will suit our needs best."

"Sounds like a plan."

"If you happen to come across hostiles," she glances sideways at Selfridge, who is watching the two suspiciously, "make sure to take care of them. Leave no trace, all that hippy shit."

"I can only turn a blind eye to so much before things start getting back to the ICA. We're already on thin ice after what happened at Hell's Gate. I was only able to get this operation sanctioned under the promise that there would not be another incited war, like before."

"What they don't know won't kill them," Bukowski rolls his eyes. To Ardmore, he says, "There's nothing I can say to convince you to give me the green light for hunting down Sully?"

"No. And I won't say it again. Leave it alone, Major. Or you'll find yourself at the end of a needle."

She sure does like to flaunt the fact that the Recoms are under her control. But his life isn't in her hands, not like the others had been, because he wasn't resurrected from a memory card. He had chosen this, and his human body was now ashes. He had pressed the button to start the flames himself and laid his human self to rest.

She can't euthanize him because that wasn't in the contract. As a matter of fact, there was no contract. The only thing keeping him in line was his respect for her authority, which was growing smaller by the day. 

Maybe in the near future, he can work things to his favor and become General Bukowski.

"Yes, ma'am. As you wish."

Again, he salutes her with a parting wave before ducking out of the room, weaving through the crowded hallway full of humans as he navigates his way to the tarmac. Overhead, he could hear the rotors of the Valkyrie thumping loudly, alerting him that his daughter was now in Bridghead's airspace.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER FIVE

LENA BUKOWSKI

The hydraulics of the hatch door hiss loudly as it drops to the ground, hitting the tarmac with a muffled thump as it opens fully, allowing the humans to exit the Valkyrie. Behind her, the brakes of the dollies hiss as the soldiers push the incubation tanks down the ramp and across the road, connecting them to a hitch to be dragged the rest of the way.

Among the group was her Avatar.

Lena Bukowski, PhD. 

Now turned Lena Bukowski, circus freak.

Dad was pushing for her to make the change, but as she watches the big blue woman roll by, suspended in amniotic fluid, she bites her lip thoughtfully. How can he expect her to leave behind a version of herself, the only version she's known her entire life, just so she can breathe the air of a planet that is so hostile it literally fights back?

"What's shinin', Mornin' Glory?" A familiar voice rumbles from behind, and she wheels around excitedly searching for her father.

She's met with the waistband of cargo green army pants, and it takes her a second to register just how tall he is.

Jesus. Right.

She forgot.

He's blue now.

"Morning," she mumbles, playing it off as fatigue. She even manages to fake a yawn, which evolves into a real one, and he shakes his head as a smile dances on his lips.

"Didn't sleep well last night?"

"I think my nerves kept me up," she sighs, falling in step with him as he strolls down the road, blending in with the crowd as they all head deeper into the city. All around, screens broadcast live feeds of them, and the banner underneath scrolls by with the headline, "New recruits arrive on Pandora, paving the way for humanity!"

He follows her line of sight and then scoffs, rolling his eyes at the newscreen. "They do that to help Earth feel more in control of what's happening over here."

"Well, after what happened last night, I don't blame them. I can still hear their... utilating, bouncing around in my head like a freaking siren. Savages." How can they cheer over slaughtering humans? The escort team did nothing wrong. They were nothing more than innocent bystanders who only fought back after they were provoked. "How am I supposed to be safe setting up the betabridge with the image of the attack hanging around in my mind?"

"You don't gotta worry about that. I will personally be watching over you. Plus, as you just saw, you've got a whole team dedicated to protecting you. And besides, it won't be you out there. Just your Avatar. For now, at least."

He said it with such finality that it gave her the impression that it wasn't necessarily a choice for her. Just the next step in her new life here on Pandora. Couldn't she just be satisfied with dabbling in both worlds? Why does it have to be so absolute?

"You'll have to sit through a debrief first. They just want to go over the basics with the newbies. Rules, boundaries, stuff like that. As soon as that's over, I'll show you to the labs where you'll be working."

She was only half listening. Her neck was starting to hurt as she swiveled her head in all directions, taking in everything she was seeing.

Back on Earth, there were so many people that she couldn't walk down the street without being packed shoulder-to-shoulder with others. There wasn't a single wilderness left untouched. The Grand Canyon had become a maze of multi-storied luxury condos, the deserts in the west hosted housing divisions for the lower-income families, and every forest in between had been demolished. There were talks of future construction plans that included converting ancient deep-sea oil rigs into apartments.

Billions of people.

But here?

Here, she could actually breathe.

Well, figuratively. She still needed the exo-pack to live, but she could fill her lungs with air and enjoy not having someone else's elbow jarring into her side while doing it. 

The towers didn't disappear into the cloud of low-hanging smog. She could actually see clouds. Clear blue sky, as far as the eye could see. Aside from the thick plume of smoke that rose from the smokestacks of the industrial zones. Her eyes dart around the signs that point her in the direction of the admin building, and underneath that, to the housing zone.

In the distance, the massive towering fence loomed ominously, reminding her that despite the serenity of the city, beyond the walls, rabid savages waited anxiously to devour her heart. Her throat feels tight, and she swallows hard, sucking in a steadying breath as she reminds herself of her purpose here.

Her PhD was the only reason she had been chosen to come here, especially for a woman as young as she is. Terraforming wasn't unheard of, but it had yet to be proven as a feasible option. But when she submitted her thesis proposal to the council under the RDA in their Earth headquarters, she received an invitation to finish her proposal ASAP, with the promise of a free ticket to Pandora.

She had affectionately named CHLOHES. Coil-heated Lithium Oxygen High-efficiency Scubber. With the help of fellow bioengineers, she designed schematics for a massive coil heater with pockets of lithium hydroxide. The theory was that by superheating the lithium hydroxide over the coils of the heaters, which would be placed strategically around a massive continent to outline the boundary, then as the gas cooled, it would convert into nitrogen. And since nitrogen is lighter than oxygen, it would create a dome effect, trapping oxygen underneath. The lithium hydroxide also absorbs carbon dioxide, and since Pandora's atmosphere has a CO2 content of about eighteen percent, even with a protected dome of oxygen, humans still wouldn't be able to breathe the air. And, as soon as the lithium hydroxide absorbs its limit of carbon dioxide, the coiled heaters would pump the cooled substance into the ground, which would then convert into water, H2O. But, this reaction creates not just H2O, but also lithium carbonate, which could then be added to the soil to control sodium absorption.

In short, the betabridge is a building-sized super-heater with metal coils that would melt lithium hydroxide, which would not only create a breathable atmosphere by increasing nitrogen and oxygen, but also filter out carbon dioxide, create water to hydrate the soil, and lithium carbonate to enhance soil quality for future farming.

It was the first step to terraforming, and using her blueprints, she created a scale model and presented it to the council at RDA headquarters. From there, they discussed moving forward with the head of SciOps on Pandora, and one thing led to another.

And now here she is, walking on another planet, starting a new life, and hopefully, starting a new chapter in human history.

Big blue fingers snap in front of her face, and she jumps.

"I said 'we're here'." Her dad chuckles, staring down at her fondly. Her cheeks heat up with embarrassment as he ushers her through the door, and the air locks hiss all around her. When the light turns green, she removes the exo-pack with a heavy sigh, rubbing her hairline furiously where the rubber seal had irritated her skin. Around her father's neck was a mask attached to a long hose, with some sort of small tank at the end. 

He notices her stare, and he pulls it away from his body so she can get a better look at it. "It's a carbon dioxide filter. There's not enough of it in here, so we have to huff on these or else we'll pass out, eventually."

"That is so crazy. What does it smell like out there?"

"Very faintly of rotten eggs with just a hint of bleach, if the wind is blowing strong. Honestly, I don't notice it until I come in here for a while. It's the air inside the buildings that smells worse."

Probably due to his heightened sense of smell, but she also doesn't really know much about the Na'vi, or Avatars for that matter. There was an entire department at the University that had been dedicated to the study of the Na'vi, but after what happened at Hell's Gate, the program was shut down, and all of the research was either destroyed or locked away. She had heard a name mentioned once: Dr. Grace Augustine. But other than that, the University figured that working with the Natives was out of the question now, and they needed to prioritize humanity first.

And if they can't bring Pandora's magic to Earth, then they'll just have to bring Earth to Pandora.

Starting with making a space breathable for humans.

Lena smacks her tray of gray goop onto the table with a heavy sigh. The chill of the plastic seat seeps through the fabric of her pants, and she's reminded of the school cafeteria when she was a kid.

And just like when she was a kid, she sits all alone at a table at the back of Commissary, the outcast of the group.

She isn't a part of SecOps, so she doesn't feel right sitting with any of the soldiers dressed in fatigues, and she isn't quite a scientist, so she avoids the white coats around the SciOps tables.

And in true loser fashion, her father eventually joins her, opting to sit on the floor since the built-in seat wasn't meant for a Na'vi body. She stabs at the pile of mush with her spork unenthusiastically, resting her chin on top of her knuckles with a huff.

"You know, with all the money that comes to this place, I figured we'd have better food." She grumbles, testing the food with the tip of her tongue. It doesn't taste as bad as it looks, but then again, anything tastes better than bioengineered algae. "What is it?"

"Plant matter from Pandorean vegetation." Her father recites between mouthfuls of food, scarfing it down fast. It's how they both grew up eating, because she learned that the faster she ate it, the less she'd have to taste it. Sometimes, she'd even just swallow her food whole so she wouldn't have to let it touch her tongue.

"So this is what I read about," she muses, eating with a little more enthusiasm, rolling it around on her tongue as she explores the different flavors and additives to counteract the bitterness. "The protein comes from Episoth seeds that've been cooked down to a paste, with Psuedocycas Altissima, or Cycad, for the base to add more volume and carbohydrates, and then water and seasonings are added to thin it down and flavor the mix. I've read several research papers on the plants that they used, as well as the results from the human trials when they first started experimenting with eating Pandoran flora. Do you notice any side effects when you eat it?"

"Not so far," he belches under his breath after he finishes chugging his mug of water, using the back of his hand to wipe his mouth clean. "Then again, I'm not human. My body is meant to handle this stuff, right?"

"Well, yes and no. Sure, you can handle Pandorean foods better, but you also have enough human DNA in there that you could still have adverse effects if it's not processed enough."

"Look, I don't care what it is, as long as it's not Spirulina." Dad grunts as he pushes himself to his feet. He gathers both of their trays and then deposits them at the window for cleaning, before he jerks his chin to the door. "Wanna see the labs?"

"Might as well."

The SciOps laboratory was a marvel all on its own. Private offices make up the first floor, and Dad points out a door with Lena's name on it. She pops the door open and takes a peek, but doesn't linger as he marches on, ducking into the doorway of a quarantine hatch to lead her up the stairs.

The second floor was made up of an open lab, lined with hundreds of tables, overflowing with all the latest in scientific technology. Specimens were crammed into jars, suspended in clear preservation fluids, while others were laid out on mats, dissected in segments, with notes scattered all around. 

People in lab coats bend over their work, studying tirelessly on their tasks at hand as they try to figure out the puzzle of this blorigous moon that will- someday soon- hopefully become the new home for all of Earth's population. Her father interrupts her train of thought by clearing his throat, sweeping an arm into the room.

"I'm not sure how they go about separating the work areas here, but I'm sure you'll be able to fit right in."

"And what's upstairs?"

"Medical wing, that's where the Avatars and Recoms are decantered or treated." He jerks his head towards the stairs, and she trails after him, panting softly as they finally reach the landing. 

In front of her, a long hall blooms into view, lined with several doors, each marked according to what's inside. Examination Bay One starts on the left, and the numbers climb all the way up to five. On the right side is one door with several large glass windows, revealing a large open room with a medical bed in the center, and monitors of all kinds along the wall. Above the bed is a hole in the wall with the hatch door sealed shut, but she can see through the viewing window beside it that the Recom incubation pods are waiting in a room beyond. Her Avatar is among them, twitching softly. Alive, but without a soul. For now.

"They'll start waking them up tomorrow at oh-seven. You'll need to be here when they do, because they'll also have you link up with your Avatar. The link beds are on the second floor."

"We're... going out there tomorrow?"

"Not quite. You'll link up tomorrow, and then you'll have to go through some calibration training. Then, probably after about a week, I'll get the green light to take the team out. In the meantime, you need to be looking over our satellite scans to try to map out which direction we should head to find an island."

Lena sighs, leaning her shoulder against the wall. All of her belongings had been crammed into an army-green duffel, and thankfully, her dad had had someone already take it up to her room, but she could still feel the ghost of its weight clinging to her shoulders. She rubs distractedly, staring at the ground to avoid his eyes.

"Sweetheart, I told you, you don't gotta worry. I promise that you will be safe out there."

"How can you promise that? Did you watch the same thing I did? That video of them attacking the convoy..."

"Lena," he says, lowering his voice, crouching down in front of her so he is eye-level. "That footage that was broadcast... it..."

She can see that he's struggling to find the right words, and she crosses her arms over her chest, waiting expectantly. He sighs, pinches the flat bridge of his nose, and then tries again. "That footage was... enhanced, to make it look more severe than it was."

"What do you mean by enhanced?"

Tyler Bukowski glances around cautiously and then pulls her arm to lead her into an examination room. The door seals shut behind them, beeping red on the little keypad on the wall. He brings the mask to his face, draws in a few puffs of CO2, and then crouches once more.

"Yes, those savages have been attacking our transport convoys, and the majority of that footage was taken from the security feed from the black boxes aboard the aircraft. Or those that survived, anyway, but not all of the footage was original. Some of it had been doctored to add more blood and gore. The tech department also used AI and motion-capture suits with greenscreens to duplicate some of the Na'vi and make them do things they didn't really do."

"As in, they didn't scalp the survivors? Or smear their blood all over themselves?"

"No. They did run them through with arrows as long as their bodies, though. And killed everyone on the convoy, and then looted as much as they could before back-up arrived. But the rest was just theatrics to stir up the humans back on Earth. The more sympathy we can draw in, the more donations and volunteers we receive. Without it, we wouldn't have half as much funding as we do. Amrita only pays for so much."

"What's Amrita?" Lena cocks her head to the side, dropping into a chair by the door, her face growing pale. She looks like she might pass out or throw up the gray sludge from lunch.

"Don't worry about it." Her father reaches out to comfort her then, gripping her knee with one hand, while the other brushes her hair back behind her ear. "Just focus on the Beta Bridge and finding a good place to set up shop. Just let me worry about the rest."

She glances through the thick curtain of her bangs to meet his bright yellow eyes, swallowing hard. "Does anyone else know about the doctored footage?"

"No. Let's keep that between us, okay, sweetheart?"

"Sure, Dad."

She looks away at the floor.

"Let me show you to your room so you can rest. I'll swing by in the morning and walk you to your lab."

Lena nods wordlessly, taking his hand as he pulls her to his feet. He pulls the badge from the reel at his waist, swiping it on the keypad at the door to unlock it.

If the RDA had lied about the brutal savagery of the Na'vi... what else could they be lying about?