#recombinant reader

So much is running through your head. Every emotion you've ever felt in your life came together into one big ball of rage and pain. And despair. Fuck, you can't even pick a single thing to focus on. It's all just gray in your mind. Jake, your older brother, your pillar of strength and comfort, reaches over and grips your hand tightly, and when you meet his eyes, you're shocked to find them lined with tears.

You've never seen him cry, but even now, you can tell that it's more than just sadness that's eating at him.

It's guilt.

Because none of this would have happened had he not lent a helping hand to Selfridge and Quaritch, the masterminds behind the shitstorm they all had just witnessed. He opens his mouth to say something, but the words die on his tongue as the doors to the elevator across from their holding cell fly open with a resonating ding.

Inside, a woman she'd thought was a friend comes pushing a silver cart stacked with food towards the SecOps officer's desk, and he kicks his heels off the surface, striding towards the cart curiously.

"Honestly, I don't think these tree-huggers deserve steak," she rasps, scoffing under her breath with disdain. The officer balks in return, lifting the domed lid from one of the trays of food.

"These sons-of-bitches get steak?" He asks incredulously, bending over so he can get a whiff of the steaming meat inside. "Now that's some bull-"

His words are cut short as she whips out her pistol from the waistband of her jumpsuit, and she slams the grip against the back of his skull. He's out like a light, and she barely manages to catch him by the back of his shirt before he can collapse noisily to the ground. She confirms that he's unconscious and then barks towards the elevator doors. "Max!"

You let out a breath of relief at the sight, as does Jake and Norm, your lab partner. He jumps to the glass door, smacking the surface with his palms as he sighs her name. "Trudy!"

"Didn't think I'd leave ya to rot, now did you?" She chuckles, sifting through the man's pockets for a zip tie while Max swipes his key card.

Just as another soldier rounds the corner, having returned from his bathroom break. Your eyes widen, but before you can warn her, she whips around and gut-punches the guy.

He doubles over with an audible groan, and she steals the opportunity to grab him by the shoulders and ram her knee into his face, breaking his nose and knocking him out cold. Trudy pants softly, but otherwise looks unaffected by the effort it took. 

Max's hands tremble as he slides the keycard across the lock, and the small device beeps, unlocking the door with a soft hiss. You don't waste any time as you grab the handles of Jake's wheelchair to spin him around, ushering him out the door.

Norm and Trudy share a chaste kiss before you're all on your way out of the door and down the maze of hallways to the aircraft hangar. Your breaths echo off the smooth metallic walls, and you hone your ears to listen for any sounds that might indicate you're being hunted. So far, so good, as you trot behind Trudy, allowing her to take the lead. She keeps her gun trained low to the floor, as does Jake, having confiscated the weapon from one of the soldiers.

Norm looks almost comical, holding a pistol, but in times like these, even the scientists have to lay down their pacifist ways to fight back against the scourge of the RDA.

You grip the handles of Jake’s wheelchair tightly, your palms growing sweatier by the second as Grace pants heavily just a foot behind you, pushing her aged body to the max. She's probably regretting smoking a pack a day right now.

Jake's shoulders tense as he raises the gun, peeking around the corner to check for soldiers, before waving you on with two fingers, giving you the all clear.

Despite everything going on, a thrill of excitement shoots up your spine. It was almost like being on a mission with Jake, as if you're finally witnessing him in his natural element; in the midst of danger, evading his enemies with military precision. You can't remember how many years it had been since his spinal injury, but Jake was right. You can never take the fight out of a Marine.

When the group finally reaches the sealed doors at the end of the hallway just outside of the aircraft hangar, you reach up and take two exo-packs- one for you and one for Jake. You pass it to him before sealing a mask over your own face, pressurizing the mask with just the touch of a button. You test it out, ensuring it is running properly, and then loop the supply pack around your shoulder as you wait for Jake's next order.

How is it that just yesterday you were nothing more than Dr. Grace Augustine's apprentice, and now you're a wanted fugitive?

You had worked your ass off for years to earn your place beside Dr. Augustine, and although you're only in your early-thirties, you had accomplished a lot in order to get to where you are now. You had studied with your other brother Tommy before he passed away. You were supposed to be in the program together, especially since he was supposed to be a pilot of his own Avatar. That was the plan.

But nothing ever goes to plan, apparently. Because that plan did not include building a life and a reputation on Pandora to share with Jake, but here you are. But at least he was here, because you don't know if youd've been able to handle the news of losing your brother if you didn't have Jake here to soften the blow. To help you push through it.

And now, here you are helping him. It was your turn to be there for Jake, and if that meant committing an act of treason against the RDA by aiding in the escape of the three prisoners, including yourself, then well… you're prepared to do that and worse.

“Go, get the Samson prepped. We’ll be right behind,” Jake nods towards Trudy’s aircraft, and the woman grunts her assent, sprinting towards the craft in question, weapon at the ready.

“Jake, if we don’t-” you whisper, but Jake cuts you off.

“Uh-uh, none of that. I told you I’d take you out into the forest one day, and that day's come. You’re gonna love it, sis, everything is just so… so full of life. It’s different to see it in person than on a screen or out a window.”

He keeps his voice low, pausing to check between the aircraft as they weave through the rows, following Trudy's tail, searching for soldiers. They finally make it to Trudy’s Samson, where Norm was already pulling the covers out of the rotors, giving her the thumbs up to get them warm. Jake spins around so you can wrap your arms around his waist, hoisting him to the floor of the aircraft with surprising ease, and a flash of worry strikes you as you realize just how skinny he's gotten. He's really let himself go, struggling to find the balance between the made-up life he's built through his Avatar and the reality he is forced to wake up to.

He grasps onto something to use as leverage, and just as you and Grace are tossing his chair into the cargo hold, gunfire blasts from behind, ricocheting off the metal walls, making your ears ring. Something shoves you against Grace with so much force that it knocks the breath out of both of you. Cold washes over you like a bucket of water, and you shakily grip Norm’s hand as he reaches out to pull you into the craft as it takes off, the turbines roaring to life. The gunfire continues until the Samson is out of range, and you glance around the edge of the hold to find the source of the bullets. A cold chill runs down your spine as you meet the hardened gaze of Colonel Miles Quaritch, the very asshole responsible for Jake’s imprisonment, and for the murder of hundreds of the Na’vi people, and the destruction of Hometree.

A wolfish grin spreads across Jake's face as he whoops and cheers, clapping a hand on your shoulder to rope you into the celebration- and you wince, hissing in pain as your trembling hands clutch your abdomen. When you pull your hand away, it's soaked with sticky blood. The air is sucked from your lungs, and you're left speechless as your brain fogs over, unable to process what's happening. As if the world had suddenly been slammed into slow-motion.

“Shit… this is gonna ruin my day,” you hear Grace mutter. Your gaze sweeps across the space between them to see that Grace was also bleeding heavily from her stomach. That must have been what shoved you into Grace. It was the impact of the bullet tearing through your body and straight into Grace’s. Although the hole behind your hand was much bigger than what you were seeing on her.

“Get the trauma kit!” Jake shouts to Norm, and then clamps his hands over your stomach as you fall to your back beside him, attempting to stop the bleeding. “Just hold on, baby girl, we’re gonna fix you up, I promise. Mo'at can take care of this. They've got a plant for everything, just keep your eyes open. Keep talkin'. You never shut up, don't you start now.”

A small smile dances on your lips as your vision fades in and out, and you try to focus on the timbre of his voice. You used to tease him for how thick his accent was as a kid. It had only gotten worse as he got older, to the point that sometimes people thought you'd been adopted from out of state. One thing that never stuck with you was the God-awful Boston accent.

“Pinky swear?” You slur, and he chuckles, wrapping his little finger around yours in a pinky promise as you raise your hand into the air. It took more effort than you liked, and the blood made your hands slick, making it difficult to hold onto him. Your head throbs to the tune of your heart, and you roll it to the side, hoping to drown out the high-pitched ringing with the thump-thump-thump of the Samson's rotors.

“Pinky promise.”

Jake’s words echo in your mind as your consciousness fades into black, and the cold spreads over you like a blanket, stealing the breath from your lips. You shiver, curling into Jake’s arms, embracing the darkness as it swallows you whole, focusing on the steady thrum of his heart as it pounds against your ear. 

Story Tags: No use of Y/N, Female Reader, Recombinant Reader, Omatikaya | Blue Flute Clan, Na’vi Culture, Na’vi Biology, Na’vi Language, Na’vi & Human Interactions, Pregnancy, Childbirth, Fluff and Angst, Spider is worried about the new baby, Spider needs a hug

Author’s Note: Originally, when I had first written this, I made it about Lo’ak’s future progeny with the reader but having to have some of these prompts be re-written after having my portable hard drive smashed during my move, well, Tsu’tey was determined to get more love this holiday season when I sat down to re-writes so we now have a part 3 for our Tsu’tey/Reader pairing for 14 Days of Love. This part’s not as explicit as the last chapter (Eternity) but it does involve details about Na’vi pregnancy, and it is my take on one of the deleted scenes we could have gotten from ATWOW had it not gotten cut. And since we only have the scripts to go off of, I got a little creative.

Na’vi Translation: Kuru – neural queue Muntxatan – husband | male spouse Nga yawne lu oer, oeyä’itan – You are beloved to me (I love you), my son Sa’nu – mum | mom | mommy Sempu – dad | daddy Syor – relax Tsaheylu – neural bond made through the connection of two neural queues

AO3 Link

Part 2

A nearly six-year-old Spider nestled himself into your side and kissed the side of your rounded belly tenderly, beaming up at you as you gently ran your blue fingers through his short braids that he had insisted on having to look like his adopted father, red beads, and all. (Tsu’tey had remained stoic when Spider had initially asked for his long blonde curls to be braided until the Na’vi male had had his son in his lap and then you had noticed a telltale wetness in the corner of one of his golden eyes as he carefully, gently, braided his human son’s blonde locks to match his own.) Your little family had settled into a routine after you and Tsu’tey had been married, Spider sleeping in the shack you and your muntxatan had had built to keep him close to you both. The three of you all ate in there as well as you would have your meals as a family should and you did not want Spider to suffer when the Pandoran air was toxic to him. The metal cabin was situated just outside your and Tsu’tey’s wooden kelku so that there would be no more middle of the night comm calls and rampaging through the forests if Spider was having a really bad nightmare or suddenly fell ill. Or that one very small period of time where he might have wet the bed once or twice. Now, you both could get to your human son in a matter of seconds if he needed you during eclipse. Especially as you had made the permanent switch to your Avatar body just a fortnight before the official wedding.

You enjoyed these moments you had, when it was just you and your little boy; you cherished them very much. You knew it would come to an end too quick and there would come a time when he wouldn’t want to do this as much if at all anymore, so you pulled him tighter against your body and sighed in contentment, until a small cramp made you wince.

“Sa’nu?” Spider suddenly whispered, and by his tone, you knew he wanted to ask a question, one he wasn’t sure you or he would like the answer to.

You looked down at your boy with a warm and loving smile upon your sapphire-colored lips and took a quick breath of air from the little mask hanging around your neck while you cuddled with your son within his oxygen-rich shack. “~Yeah, baby?~” you asked in English as you were a bilingual family and were determined to make sure your son understood both languages. And, you had been playing around with the idea that when your son got a little older, you wanted him to maybe start learning Portuguese in order to honor his birth mother – Paz Socorro’s – heritage, the same way you all made sure to continue to honor Sylwanin’s memory. “~What’s up, buttercup?~”

The five-year-old (almost six, he’d remind you as his birthday drew closer (it was currently forty-three days away and counting)) smiled slightly at the nickname you had given him because of his blonde hair before the grin disappeared once more, his brows creasing somewhat as he pondered how to ask. He spoke in the Na’vi language in response, asking, “When the baby comes… will you love it more than me? Because the baby will be your real child.”

You immediately stiffened, your whip-like tail lashing out in a surge of surprised rage at that innocent query and snapped your head down to look at him so abruptly you might have given yourself whiplash had you still been in your human body. “Miles te Socorro-Rongloa Tsu’tey’itan, why ~the hell~would you ask such a thing?!” You easily manhandled him into your palms, gripping his bare torso and easily holding his small body up in front of you so you could hold him up to eye-level and continue this conversation face to face. “You are most certainly my son! You are most certainly your father’s son! I might not have given birth to you in this body or my human one that I left behind, but you are and always will be ours! Do you not remember the official adoption ceremony we performed in front of the whole clan on your fifth birthday? You are ours by blood!” You referred to the small scar on the palm of his hand that had been placed there by Mo’at before she cut both yours and Tsu’tey’s palms to perform the rite that would officially make Spider theirs in the eyes of the People. Ignoring another cramp, you demanded, “Now, who ~the hell~ put such a terrible thought inside your head?!”

By the way that Spider wouldn’t meet your gaze and the way he fidgeted with the beaded bracelet he had woven for you, you immediately put two and two together and realized he had been eavesdropping on Neytiri or Ateyo, Tsu’tey’s father’s acidic words against all Sky People. Again.

You would have words with either of them one day about their attitude. And while you realized they had reason to hate most Sky People like Spider’s biological parents, your son was not one of them!

“Sa’nu, I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad,” Spider immediately pleaded, brown eyes tearing up.

You immediately pulled the boy close, murmuring words of love and reassurance that you were not angry with him, that you loved him unconditionally, and that everything would be alright. With practiced ease, he spread his little legs, his loincloth folding beneath him as he rested his bottom on the top curve of your pregnant belly and you hugged him tight, smothering him in kisses. You were noisily kissing his jaw, his cheek, his forehead, his scalp when the airlock beeped. You didn’t stop laying smooches on the boy as your mate ducked his head as he entered the shack and spotted his family upon the couch. He raised a hairless brow, the corner of his mouth lifting at your overenthusiastic display of affection.

“Your son needs some sempu-love, right now,” you declared just as Spider noticed his father, your face immediately turning into a scowl above the blonde head of beaded braids. “Someone has been putting a nasty bug into his ear that we will love the baby more than him because it will be our ‘real’ baby, Tey.”

The unvoiced threat was clear in your voice.

Tsu’tey plucked Spider up and off of you and tucked the child against his chest and immediately rubbed his cheek all over Spider’s scalp, scenting his son as he sometimes did with you. “What nonsense,” he muttered softly, coming to sit upon the couch beside you, careful of his tail and yours. “You might not remember this as you were about a year and a half old – just after the Great War and before your sa’nu and I were officially courting. Well, someone decided to put one of my braids within his mouth.” You immediately cackled, your happy mood beginning to get restored as you remembered this particular scene. Your muntxatan shot you a look but continued with the story. “And this little boy ate two of my beads.” You snorted, remembering the absolute terror Tsu’tey had experienced, thinking Spider would choke and die

Years afterwards, it was at least a little funny.

Back then, you had been just as frightened for his health.

“Your sempu commanded the scientists to perform an internal exam to make sure you wouldn’t be hurt,” you added, laying your cheek upon Tsu’tey’s shoulder and pulling at a loose thread on Spider’s loincloth. “Luckily, the beads were small enough that you were only a little uncomfortable until you pooped them out.”

You suddenly winced again, as you felt another cramp within your middle, causing your face to twist in discomfort.

“Sa’nu? Are you alright?” Spider asked. You tried to smile in reassurance but another cramp, even harsher than the one before made itself known and you groaned slightly, shifting in discomfort. Your mate frowned at you for a moment before his golden eyes widened and he sat up straight with a widening smile upon his features as you continued to scowl in pain. “Sempu?”

“Your mother will be alright in a little bit,” Tsu’tey declared, “but first, your sibling is coming.” He pressed his comm microphone button and called out, “Suli, do you hear me?”

“~Yeah, brother, what’s up~?” Jake’s voice came back half a minute later, his use of English a surprise as he had been dedicated to speaking the Na’vi language more and more.

With a proud grin upon his lips, Tsu’tey declared, “Spider’s younger sibling has decided to arrive. We need you to watch our eldest, please, while we make our way to the birthing pools.” There was a rude English curse on the other end of the comm unit before Jake agreed and said he would meet the three of them on their way to deliver the baby and that Neytiri was going to grab her mother. With a word of thanks, Spider was placed upon the ground and your muntxatan helped you to your feet, his eagerness and nervousness palpable within the air, his tail flicking back and forth swiftly.

Waddling out of the shack after securing Spider’s mask to his face, Tsu’tey guided you through the village towards the pools where you would deliver your baby’s chrysalis under the guidance of Mo’at, everyone recognizing the pinched look of pain upon your features and offering their congratulations.

Jake and Neytiri met you when you almost arrived, his mother-in-law in tow, the two Sullys looking both harried and excited for the upcoming birth while Mo’at was as calm and collected as she always did. “~C’mere, kid,~” Jake called, scooping up the human child while the baby sling on both his front and his back were laden with wide eyed toddlers, Neytiri’s sling pressing her infant baby to her chest. “You are going to be with us while your mother gives birth to your new sibling – or at least the chrysalis.”

“~I’ll see ya soon, baby boy~,” you told your son in English before reminding him in the Na’vi language once more, “Nga yawne lu oer, oeyä’itan. Understand?”

The little boy nodded and watched as your mate and Mo’at helped you away.

The water was warm upon your skin after your mate helped you out of your clothing before lowering you to sit upon his lap within the spring. Mo’at hummed a song-like prayer to Eywa as you groaned once more, hovering her fingers over the large curve of your belly. Tsu’tey took his kuru and made tsaheylu intertwining the pink tendrils of both black braids together so he could take some of your pain from you. You groaned as a sharper cramp hit you and you reached back, intertwined your fingers with your mate’s. Mo’at helped to ease your legs apart and began to sing her prayer a little louder while Tsu’tey rubbed his cheek against your own in a show of love and an offering of his strength for you. You smiled up at your mate as best as you could and tried to even out your breathing as a wave of pain washed over your senses and made you groan out loud.

“That is it, child. It is time to start pushing,” Mo’at hummed, her fingers still hovering over your belly. “Tsu’tey, help her up into a crouch. It will help ease her pain a little more.”

Your mate did as he had been instructed and he supported your body as you felt the need to push. “Oh, it hurts, Tey,” you whined, clinging to him as you felt your body trying to expel your baby’s chrysalis naturally. He grunted as he felt your pain coming through the bond but grit his teeth and continued to support your weight while you began to push, feeling the imago containing your fetus starting to ease towards your lower slit. He held you as you cried out and worked your inner muscles to force your unborn babe out of your body, the golden cocoon slowly but surely inching its way from your body while your mate took your pain as best as he could and Mo’at prayed to Eywa while making sure you didn’t run into any issues. “I think I want to wait to have another one,” you whined through gritted teeth as you pushed once more and felt your baby finally slide free of your body and into the water below.

Tsu’tey helped to ease you back down into the water and onto his lap. Mo’at gently scooped up the chrysalis and pulled the embryotic chord free of your body along with the afterbirth.

The older woman whispered, “Behold, your baby…” You and your muntxatan gazed upon the amber cocoon containing your unborn child in awe. She presented the fetus to the pair of you, murmuring, “One of you must make Tsaheylu now, to feed and nourish your baby in the last cycle before its birth.” Tsutey and you unconnected your kurus and he carefully took your braid and attached the pink tendrils to your baby’s embryotic chord, the fetus twitching within its casing for a moment before settling once again. You cooed, feeling yourself connecting with your child before glancing up at Tsu’tey to see tears trickling from his own eyes. “~Look at what we did, baby~,” you commented, feeling tears dribbling down your own cheeks. Later that night, when you were able to be brought back to your kelku and your son was brought back to your side, you hugged him tight, kissing his scalp as he beheld his baby sibling. “Is it a boy or a girl?” Spider asked, peering closely at the golden chrysalis. Tsu’tey shrugged and cuddled into his son’s back, replying, “We will find out in a couple of moon cycles when your sibling is ready to break free of this shell. Until then, you will have us to yourself for just a little while longer.”

𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸

Originally Posted: 14 February 2024 Word Count: 2,342

@crybabies-heart, @cryingwhilereading, @ikeyniofthetayrangi, @erenjaegerwifee , @bambithewriter, @lloreya

AO3 Link

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.

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."

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?"

Corporal Wainfleet was waiting for him to lead the way to the office of the new on-world Expeditionary Force Commander, General Francis Ardmore. Regarding leaders, Quaritch has a lot of respect for Ardmore. As the new SecOps leader of Pandora, she's managed to do more in the past year than he had in the past 30 years before his untimely death. But now, he's got a second chance at finishing what he started 16 years ago. And this time, he will succeed.

Just like he wasn’t used to his own face, it was especially hard for him to look at his teammates. Although the features were similar, seeing the alien genes mixed in with the human DNA was surreal. The voices were the same, the mannerisms and the laughter too. But just… alien. Wainfleet, Zdinarsik, Walker, Prager, Ja, Fike, Mansk, Warren, Zhang, and Lopez were all resurrected as a fragment of their human selves. Data imported into living tissue… that’s all they were, and yet he felt like so much more. He felt more alive than he could remember, even in his human days.

As they stomp through the steel hallways, cold air blasting down on them every few feet from massive vents, various science pukes in pristine lab coats leap out of their way, not wanting to get trampled by 9-foot-tall aliens. SecOps specialists salute them as they pass, and it almost makes him nauseous. Ever since waking up in his new body, everything about the place makes him sick to his stomach. He's not sure what it is just yet, just that something is off.

The sterile chemical stench, the harsh lights, the monotone colors, and worst of all… the humans. Just something about their presence was almost electric, sending warning bells into some animalistic part tucked deep into his brain. It told him to get out, get away.

But like many things in his mind, he squashes it down and ignores it, shaking his head to clear it as the automatic doors slide open for the pair. They duck through the doorway and stride up to Ardmore, giving off a salute. She nods at them to relax, and Quaritch loops his hands into the loops on his belt. The fabric irritates his skin, but he wears the uniform anyway, trying to hold on to those last few things that separate him from the savages outside.

“So, as you know, we’ve been having a problem with our supply trains,” she starts, gesturing for security footage to be put up on the screens around them. Various windows pop up, showing off different angles of train cars on fire, with natives scurrying about, looting whatever they could get their hands on. “And their leader is proving to be a bigger problem than I originally gave him credit for. He's an old friend of yours, actually. Jake Sully.”

Quaritch grits his teeth. He keeps his face as stoic as possible, but his stupid tail gives him away, the appendage lashing around behind him, the bristly hair at the tip brushing against his knuckles at his waist. He catches Lyle's ears twitching in response, but they each keep quiet, allowing her to continue.

“As the newly reinstated leader of the SecOps team, I want you to be in charge of finding Sully and getting rid of him. Without Jake, the native insurgency should slowly die out. His knowledge of how we operate is the only thing they have working for them, and without that, we'll finally be able to get on top of our primary directive here on base. But, I can’t send you out into the field just yet.”

“And why is that?” Quaritch keeps his voice low, cocking his head ever so slightly to the left as he looks down at the woman. Its almost comical how small she is compared to his new form. Not that he wasn't tall as a human, but it still startles him to be towering several feet over everyone else on base. Was she seriously doubting his capabilities?

“It’s not that I don’t think you can handle yourself in a fight,” she holds a hand up, bringing her coffee mug to her lips to take a sip before she continues, trying to keep the conversation feeling more casual than it is. “Our forces can’t aide you out there at all. Their base of operations is somewhere in the floating mountains, and there seems to be some kind of... biological response that alerts the local wildlife of our presence. Even with skel-suits set to stealth mode, we can’t be in that territory for more than ten minutes before we start taking heavy losses.”

The camera footage on the screens reinforces her words as various species of animals tackle and tear apart the soldiers in the giant metal suits. Banshees swoop in and rip the pilots straight out of their seats from their aircraft, and arrows protrude from bodies amongst the smoking wreckage of the most recent derailing. His ears twitch again.

“So, what exactly are you suggesting?”

“I’ve got a specialist that is being decantered as we speak. Another recombinant, who was an apprentice of Dr. Grace Augustine. She's a xenobiologist, she helped pilot the avatars when Augustine was still running the program.”

Quaritch waits for her to continue speaking, nodding along to show he was listening. He rakes through his memories, trying to figure out if he had anything from his previous life about this doctor.

“She was KIA before Hell’s Gate fell. Security footage shows it was reportedly a gunshot wound while she was aiding in the escape of Jake Sully, Norm Spellman, and Dr. Grace Augustine after Selfridge had given the green light for the mining project under the natives Hometree.” A faint vision of his human hands holding a gun and firing towards the figures crawling into a Samson chopper dances at the edge of his mind, but he can’t quite grasp it.

“Anyways, she’s the most qualified person in our arsenal who's got the deepest knowledge of Na’vi culture and dynamics. You guys are fresh out of your tanks, and until you’ve had at least a few weeks of proper training and calibration, I can’t have you out on the field just yet. She will teach you to the best of her abilities, and then once you guys are ready, I’ll have her work on the next group. For now, you guys are our trial run, Blue Team. Once Project Phoenix is cleared for success, we’ll start bringing in a few more operatives. For now, it is just you guys, so listen hard and learn well. You are currently the most expensive walking assets the RDA has and I don’t want to be the one to file a bad quarterly statement because you jarheads couldn’t follow simple instructions.”

He bristles slightly at her choice of language. He may not exactly be the man he was before, but he still didn’t tolerate disrespect. If she weren’t the General, he would’ve had her ass for that by now. Instead, he clenches his teeth once more, tail lashing around before he opens his mouth to speak. “Who’s the puke?”

She grins slightly behind the rim of her mug, taking a breath. “Dr. Sully, Jake’s little sister. I thought you might appreciate the irony.”

Quaritch scoffs, stepping away to walk in a small circle, shaking his head. He comes back around, crossing his thick arms across his chest, testing your name out on his lips.

“And what makes you think she’ll help us? Especially if it’s cause she’s training us to help hunt her brother?”

“It doesn’t matter what she wants. If she refuses, then we’ll have her euthanized. That’s the glory of being a recombinant, Colonel. You are wholly RDA property. You need my permission to breathe, eat, shit, and fuck. Otherwise, we’ll have you put down. You may be expensive, but never forget that you are replaceable. Make that fact known to her. I’ll put a gag order on the nature of your mission so she won’t catch wind of it. And if she does, we force her cooperation. She’s a part of your team, so I expect you to keep her in line. If I have to step in, it won’t be pretty.”

They stare at each other for a few heartbeats. Wainfleet is the one to finally break the stifling silence between the pair, clearing his throat. “So, uh, when do we meet our new teach?”

“She should be waking up in a few minutes. You’re welcome to watch, but she won’t be cleared until tomorrow morning. Dismissed.”

Quaritch glances towards Lyle, tilting his head towards the door. Without another word, they depart, leaving behind the screens which were still playing brutal footage of RDA soldiers- men and women he had once defended- dying at the hands of all that Pandora had to offer. Quaritch sighs through his nose, clenching his fists. This was going to be the hardest mission he’s ever been assigned, he could already tell.

“So push him back,” their mother shouts in return, dipping her head back as she gulps down the last little drops from the glass bottle of dark liquid. “You can’t be a pussy if you want to make it in this world, darlin’. Especially as a woman.”

You're not exactly sure what a pussy is, but the way your mom says it makes you think it must mean something weak. After all, you're only six years old. But how can you push him back, he's so much bigger than you, Jake and Tommy were nine already and practically men. 

“I was just playin' solider! You’re supposed to be the enemy. Come on, let’s do it again! I won’t push you this time, I promise,” Jake holds out his hand, pinky extended. Tommy lowers his book so he could watch the both of you, and you had hoped that he would have stepped in by now.

“Pinky swear?” You finally grin after a minute, reaching up and taking his pinky in yours.

“I pinky promise…” But something happens to his voice. It grows deeper, and as you blink, he's suddenly a grown man, his scrawny legs sprawled out underneath him as he cradles you in his strong arms, a glass mask over his face. You can see your reflection in it, your lips blue and your complexion pale. Lightening flashes around outside, and rain pelts against the metal body of the helicopter, and the whole craft begins to shake and shudder as if it's losing control in the storm.

“Pinky promise…” He mutters again, and as you pull your hand away from where it rests on your stomach, finally noticing the blood. It’s all over you, all over him. The floor vibrates and the air whooshes against you violently as the helicopter spins out of control, and it's like invisible hands reach in and rip Jake away from you, sucking him out of the open doors. A scream tears its way out of your throat and you launch yourself towards him.

You jerk up with a gasp, clutching your chest as you attempt to steady your breathing, beads of sweat rolling down your neck as your body quakes with the last remnants of your nightmare. You crush your knuckles against your eyes to try to rub away the horrifying image of your brother going splat on the forest floor out of a helicopter. A whimper escapes your lips as you gulp in the air, counting down in your mind, the way Tommy had taught you when you were little. Once you reach one, you open your eyes, glancing down at your hands after you clear away the strands of hair that had clung to your damp forehead. Your blue hands. You trace over the features of your face, up the long flat bridge of your nose, across your eyebrows, and over your ears. Yup. It's still not all just a dream. This is your reality now. Fuck.

You swallow hard, your throat feeling dry and parched as you stretch with a groan, your body sore from having slept in such a cramped position for so long. Your gaze flashes towards the alarm clock on the nightstand to your left, and you groan again, flopping back onto the bed so you can stuff the pillow over your face. It was five in the morning, you'd apparently only slept a couple of hours, and the pink streaks of early dawn were just beginning to peak over the concrete wall surrounding Bridgehead outside of your windows. You're never up this early. 

Sighing heavily, you finally drag yourself out of the bed, not that it offered much comfort to begin with. Once you're on your feet, you snatch a set of clothes from the dresser and your toiletry bag from a shelf before stepping out of your room, heading towards the locker room that Zdinarsik had pointed out the other evening.

The recombinant quarter was in a newly finished facility on the very outskirts of the city, and although they were at ground level, the windows on the back expanded towards the beautiful sea. You wished that your room had faced that way instead of inwards, towards the city. Although you've barely seen much of the compound, what you have seen so far was too much. Hell's Gate was nothing compared to the sheer mass of Bridgehead.

The locker rooms were down the hallway and across from your room, and were made up of two rows of lockers, one on each side of the wall. Some of them had names already printed on small metal plates. You don't know where the nametags come from, and you're not sure if that's a privilege you're allowed since you're not a jarhead like the others. The two doors at the end separated the men from the women, which led to the showers. Stepping into the women’s side, you pick an empty stall and strip down, disappointed to find that the showers only had one option. Cold.

Clenching your teeth, you quickly wash off the sweat and remnants of amnio fluid from your hair and skin, shivering as the water numbs your body. After about five minutes, you've adjusted to the temperature, and although it wasn't comfortable, it was bearable.

Your blue feet stand out against the stark white tile beneath them, and since you're standing naked in the shower, you finally force yourself to examine every bit of your new body that's visible, smoothing your palms over your arms and legs, studying the white dots and maze of dark stripes that grace your skin, which is actually more turqoise than blue. You take hold of your tail, running your hands down the length of it, all the way to the fluffy tip. Then, as you finish scrubbing the soap from your hair, you pull aside your queue, studying the end of it as the white tendrils reach into the air, searching for something to bond with.

Of course, you know what it was for. You had studied the Na’vi for years with Tommy, when he was preparing to join the program. He'd helped you write all of your papers that eventually shot you ahead of the others in your group, allowing you to join the apprenticeship with Dr. Augustine years ahead of what the program had projected for you. You and Norm Spellman were partners for the majority of that time at the university, bouncing notes and textbooks off each other as you learned about the beautiful alien species on the faraway moon within your own beautiful solar system.

You know that the dots on your skin were bioluminescent, meant to help you blend into the natural environment outside of the human confines, which was also made up of bioluminescent moss and ferns. You also know that your prehensile tail was there to help balance out your long, lanky body, like a cat. Na'vi hearing and sense of smell are six times stronger than that of a human, and their eyes can see into the night almost as clearly as in daylight, and that the neural queue is directly tied to your cerebellum, which allows you to create neural links to specific things. Your entire career was based on the knowledge you had stored in your brain about the anatomy and physiology of the Na’vi, their culture, and their language. You know their celebration dances and chants, the mating rituals, even their birthing ceremonies. You had studied all of the known clans the RDA were aware of, specializing in the Ometicaya since they were the primary point of contact during the mining operations of Hell's Gate. As a human, you had packed your brain full of every snippet of knowledge that was available to you, storing it all away in journal articles and paper studies, which are long since gone. Now, all you have is whatever is available on your terminal, and in your mind.

And now you're living it. Not just as a temporary Avatar pilot, but living as a Recombinant Avatar. Bits and pieces of your memory are slowly coming back to you the longer you're awake, and you now remember signing the waivers when you put yourself in a link pod, allowing the software to upload your memories, not thinking a thing of it. Cause at the time, death just seemed like such a far-off thing. It had been unfathomable to you that you might actually wake up one day in a body that wasn't yours. You finally shut off the water, and the handles squeak loudly in the echoey bathroom, cutting through the silence as you wipe your hands over your face, squeezing out the excess water from your hair.

You pat your body dry with a towel and then slip into your clothes, a dark gray t-shirt, and tan cargo pants. You drop down onto a bench across from the sinks, studying your face in the mirror once you finally get the guts to take a look. You touch the tips of your fingers to your lips, then her broad cat-like nose. The large yellow eyes stare back, unblinking. A shiver runs through you as you study yourself, finding hints of your old self mixed in with the Na'vi blood. It was freakish. Otherworldly. You run your tongue over your fangs, admiring the sharp points, before you reach for the comb in your bag, carefully brushing through the tangled mass atop your head, before twisting the strands into two long Dutch braids that fall over each shoulder, before meticulously braiding your hair back around your queue. Strands of hair begin to fall loose from the braids, framing your face in wispy natural bangs, which curl as water gathers in the strands, dripping onto your shirt, and soaking through the fabric.

It was wrong to see a Na'vi in human clothes. You should be wearing the beaded tops and loin clothes that all of the natives wore. You should be free, bathing in a river instead of in a tiled room. You should be a lot of things, but this isn't one of them. You should be dead.

How can you be responsible for teaching a group of Marines to survive out in the wild? How can you betray everything you believe in to help the RDA? This wasn't what you signed up for. You know that whatever you teach those assholes will only be used against the Na'vi, not to help them. Something tells you that they're not here to negotiate peace options with the Natives. Whatever happened 16 years ago didn't end with your death, and now you've been roped into helping the RDA finish what they started so long ago? You should have never stepped foot out of Hell’s Gate. Hell, you never should have left Earth if this is what your life was to lead up to. 

Maybe it's Grace they want. Sure, you know everything about the Na'vi, but Grace knows everything about Pandora. She would be the one qualified to teach survival skills on this world, not you. You know the basics from Grace's book, but why didn't the RDA go to the author, instead of the student? Why didn’t they turn Grace into a recombinant? She already had an Avatar and everything, you had been the one to monitor her links while she was piloting, until Jake arrived. You vaguely recall Parker Selfridge harping on the both of you to upload into the Soul Drives… but you can't seem to remember if Grace had ever made hers or not. Maybe she didn’t, and that’s why you are just the second choice. Maybe you should have followed in Grace's footsteps. But again, at the time, you just weren't thinking.

You quickly brush your teeth over the sink as you lose yourself in your thoughts, before dumping your stuff in a locker, picking one that doesn't have a name yet. You drop onto the bench that runs down the center of the room, pulling on your socks. Zdinarsik bursts in just as you're tying the laces to your boots, huffing angrily in your direction once she lays eyes on you. “Been lookin’ for you.”

“I needed to wash off the amnio fluids from the tank,” you shrug, keeping your voice low. Despite being in a different body, you still sound the same. “Are you taking me to meet Ardmore?”

“Yeah. Here, figured you might want something to eat. Your tests came back good, they gave me the all clear.” Zdinarsik tosses you a fruit, something native and fresh. You catch it between your palms clumsily, mumbling a soft thanks before you bite into it. It was firm but sweet, and before you even realized it, it was gone. You inhaled it in just a few bites, and you find yourself craving for more.

Zdinarsik chuckles at you as she jerks her head towards the doors, leading you out of the locker rooms and won the hallway, fishing some sort of protein bar out of a pocket in her vest. She holds it out to you, and you hesitantly pluck it from her grasp. “When I woke up, I ate like three of these things. Nasty as hell, but they do the job. You'll get used to feeling hungry.”

You scrunch your nose as the smell wafts out of the torn wrapper, and you figure it must be your new Na'vi senses making it smell so strong. You hold your breath as you eat, chewing the thick bar slowly. "Ugh, it's got the consistency of like... of soggy cardboard and sand." You grumble around a mouthful of food, swallowing the bite before you finish your train of thought. "Not that I'm like, an expert on eating cardboard or sand. I just imagine that this would be a perfect recreation. Are these expired or something?” You look over the package, finding nothing on it. Not even a name.

“No, they’re made special for us. Alien bodies and all,” Zdinarsik shrugs, laughing at your words as she holds open the exit for Recombinant facilities, guiding you along the concrete pathway towards the main central tower. All around you, the sounds of machinery buzzing and the crackle of metal being welded together ricochet off the thick walls, the warmth of the sun soaking into the concrete and bouncing back at you, seeping into your skin until sweat gathers at the base of your spine. The fortified wall surrounding the city blocks the breeze from reaching you, and you wind up using your shirt to pat away the beads of sweat that gather on your upper lip and brow.

You're thankful you have the soldier to guide you along because once you're inside the main tower, you lose track of the maze of hallways she steers you down, taking so many left and right turns that your head spins. Once you're both safely off the elevator and waiting outside of a closed door, Zdinarsik stops you with a hand against your collarbone.

“Look, after that… emotional display in the exam room, I feel like I should warn you that there are a few members of our new little party that will probably… set you off. Just prepare yourself.”

You frown, and your ears flatten against your head in concern as the door hisses open, allowing you both to enter, just a few minutes earlier than you were told to arrive. Sitting at the long table that stretches down the middle of the room are all of the recombinants you're supposed to instruct. You recognize the other two from your exam room, and Lopez shoots you a glare as if he's holding a grudge against you for tossing him like a sack of potatoes. One by one, you look them over, until your gaze lands on one in particular. 

“No fucking- are you serious? Him?? Of all the 'useful' people you have in your resources, you chose him?” You all but shriek as you scowl at none other than Colonel Fucking Quaritch. “This asshole is the reason that the war started with the Na’vi in the first place!”

Every recombinant gapes at you for a moment, glancing between you and the Colonel, waiting for him to react first, eyes wide. Quaritch has the gall to grin at you, cocking his head to the side as if he's simply amused by this entire ordeal. He pushes away from the table, stalking towards you, like a predator, his long legs eating up the distance between you quickly. You swallow hard, backing up a step or two. As he approaches, you can't help but notice that he is definitely at least two heads taller than you are, probably clocking in somewhere over 9 feet tall. He's... impressive, specimen-wise.

“No, I’m not going to teach him anything. He can run out and get gobbled up by the first palulukan that finds him,” you huff, unable to look into his piercing golden eyes as he stops in front of you, practically chest-to-chest. It was startling to see Quaritch’s face so clearly, so perfectly blended with his Na’vi features. 

His cropped ears perk up, studying you as his eyes track your every move, his lips set in a hard line and familiar line. He leans back on his heels, thumbs hooked into his tactical vest. “I don’t remember your mouth being this filthy,” he scoffs, glancing back at his team.

“And I don’t remember giving you a choice,” Ardmore chirps from her position at the head of the table. “Both of you, sit down. I don’t have time to waste watching you two squabble.”

You both remain standing, staring each other down. You were shocked to find yourself wanting to pounce on him; to punch and hit him. To bite him. You've never been a particularly violent person, only ever really acting out in self-defense in the past, but right now, in this moment, you want nothing more than to hurt the Colonel by any means necessary. He continues to smirk at you, as if he can see your thoughts written across your face, challenging you. Do it, his eyes tell. I dare you. You don't miss the hint of amusement either. The General clears her throat once more, and Quaritch tilts his head towards the table, holding out a hand.

“After you,” he drawls, his deep voice setting your nerves on edge. You growl at him as you turn, pulling the chair out from under the table, but not before purposefully whipping your tail against his hand. The satisfying snap cracks through the air as you make contact with his palm. He barely even flinches, but his nostrils flare in response as he returns to the chair he had been in previously.

You follow his every move, glaring at him from across the table as you cross your arms over yourself. He leans back in his chair, mimicking your position with a soft groan in the back of his throat. You try not to ogle at the size of the muscles on his arms, the veins straining against his skin. He really is a perfect specimen for a Na’vi warrior… you swallow, breaking the staring contest between the two of you in order to turn your attention to Ardmore.

“Project Phoenix has a very important mission on the horizon, and I’m giving you two months to work with them so that they are as prepared as possible before being shipped out. Pandora seems to have a biological response to any human-made crafts and devices, and we believe that being in Avatar bodies will negate that biological response. Being able to handle a gun is only half of the problem. I need them to be able to identify plant and animal species, communicate basic phrases in the Native language, and adjust to navigating in an environment that is completely opposite of our homeworld.”

You don't say a word, listening intently, feeling the hot gaze of all of the recombinants as their attention turns towards you. Heat floods up into your cheeks, and you clench the fabric of your shirt into your fists, hiding your hands behind your arms as they stay crossed over your chest. Your foot taps nervously beneath the table, but otherwise, you are completely still.

“I want you to help them learn the proper exercises to calibrate their balance and coordination, and on basic first aid in case of injury. You will answer to Colonel Quaritch, he will be your commanding officer, but in return, they will listen to you. If any of them refuse a crucial exercise or skill, I want a report on it.”

“Why is my brother’s file classified?” You finally cut in, and you feel the air in the room shift.

“Leave Jake in the past. This is your future, and if you want to be problematic, I’ll search our files for a new scientist. Don’t think you’re invincible,” Ardmore warns, standing up, as do the others. They all salute her as she walks by, but you remain sitting. You stare hard at the table, but your ears follow the sounds of her movement as she circles the table toward where you are sitting.

So that's it then? You really have no other choice? Help the people you died fighting against, or be killed a second time, for good? You were given a second chance at life, and you have to squander it by being recruited into the RDA? The thought makes your stomach churn.

“I hope that we're both able to benefit from this, Ms. Sully. It would be a shame to waste such intelligence,” Ardmore sighs as she passes you, but you could hear the threat beneath it. Silence falls over the room once Ardmore is gone, and it takes you too long to realize that they all are staring at you.

“What?” You flush, sinking a little further into your chair.

“So, what’s on the lesson plan for today, Doc?” One of the men chimes in, a pair of sunglasses propped up onto his bald head. The patch on his vest reads ‘Wainfleet’.

“Lesson for today? Already? I haven’t even been given a proper tour of the facilities! I don’t know where the labs are, if they have a courtyard that can accommodate us, or a gym, and I’d need a bigger meeting room with a board..” you trail off, listing the things down on your hand. “But first off, I need to know where the cafeteria is.”

Your stomach rumbled noisily on cue, and you jumped to your feet, hoping that the other hadn't heard it. You glance around at all of them, trying hard to ignore Quaritch’s gaze. The man stands, and the others follow suit, pushing away from the table and filing out the door after their leader. You watch them each file out of the door, unsure if that was a silent command to follow, or if they're just disregarding you completely.

“Get movin’, Sully!” Quaritch barks, causing you to jump, stumbling over your booted feet for a moment, catching herself with the edge of the table. You poke your head out of the door, whipping her head back and forth, catching sight of their tails disappearing around the corner, leaving you to trot after them. You jump out of the way as soldiers and scientists all march about their business, their small frames filling the halls as they go about their daily duties.

“This tower holds most of the human headquarters. The cafeteria is located on the first floor. Meeting rooms like the one we were just in are all on the second floor. Admin area is on the top floor, and everything in between is laboratories, storage rooms, and sleeping units for the humans. Recoms and Avatars have their own facility towards the east, and there’s a courtyard for recreational activities as well as a rope course for exercise,” Quaritch shoots off, pointing as he talks. You struggle to match his steady pace, his long legs eating up the ground beneath them as he strides with confidence to the stairway leading down.

He guides your group down to the cafeteria. Once inside, the other recoms quickly go to the window to procure their trays of food, picking their way through the busy cafeteria until they're on the farthest side with the most open space. Sucking in a breath, you crouch down until you're level with the window, snatching up the tray of gray goop and fruit slices that's offered to you. Your nose wrinkles as the scent of the sludge wafts up your nostrils.

The Recoms were settling into a table that appeared to be manufactured specifically for their size, and you're left with the choice of sitting with the other Recoms, or the Avatars who all take double glances at you from their table. You move towards the Avatars, until Quaritch whistles at you. Shooting him an angry glare, you drop your tray onto the table with a loud clack, yanking your chair back so you can fall into it. Sadly, the only open spot was next to the Colonel, and the warmth radiating from his body made your skin crawl. He stretches out his long frame, leaning back in his chair to stare you down as you eat, making your discomfort grow even more. You distract yourself with the food on the tray, 'food' being a generous term. The man behind the counter said it was genetically modified to supply a Na’vi with all of the extra vitamins and supplements their alien bodies required. You had no idea gray was an actual flavor.

“I want you to know that as long as you behave and play along like you’re supposed to, we'll get off without a hitch. The safety of my team falls on your shoulders based offa what you teach us, so make sure it’s shit that’s useful. If I figure out that you’re just wasting our time trying to stall for some grand escape plan, I’ll turn you in to Ardmore without hesitation. We clear?” His golden eyes bore into yours, and you struggle to hold his heavy gaze. It was almost like a spell. You draw in a deep breath, leaning forward.

“And what do I get out of this, in return? Sure, I can teach you guys which fruits are toxic, which animals to stay away from, and how to attune to your senses better; but what do I get? Hourly death threats and a stuffy room?” You shake your head with a scoff, tail thumping on the ground. “I would like for you to train me as well.”

“You plannin’ on killin’ someone, darlin’?” Quaritch laughs, and Wainfleet chuckles along with him. In fact, all of the recoms share a little laugh amongst each other, like you had stumbled into an inside joke that you clearly weren't a part of. Or, you were just the center of it. You scowl.

“I just want to be able to handle myself in a fight. My brother taught me a few things, but that was when we were kids, before he joined the Marines. And Tommy was too gentle to even crush a bug. When I came to Pandora, I was too swamped with assignments to really think about it, and then… well, here I am now.” Scooping up the last of your bland, dense oatmeal, you drop your utensil onto your tray and push it away from you. “So, does that sound fair?”

“I don’t think it would be unreasonable, Sir,” Zdinarsik pipes up, cocking her head to the side. “After all, I doubt the limp-dick Avatars will bother with her. They’ve made it pretty clear they want nothing to do with us.”

Quaritch seems to think on it for a moment, his tail sweeping the air, ears twitching around. Finally, he nods. “Alright. But if I start hearing a bunch of bitching, you’re done.”

The Colonel stands up, excusing himself from the table, leaving you to sit in awkward silence with the rest of the Recoms, mulling over his words thoughtfully. Eventually, you look up and around at the others, clearing your throat. “Would it be too much to ask for introductions?”

The bald one, Wainfleet, chuckles, shaking his head. He extends his hand out towards you, and you eye it suspiciously before sliding your own into his palm, giving it a firm shake. “Corporal Lyle Wainfleet. I’m the only one with a sense of humor around here.”

“This is Fike, Mansk, Ja,” he points to the others, who all just nod their heads, acknowledging their names. “That ugly fucker right there is Lopez. Then we’ve got Zhang, Walker, and Warren. You’ve met Z-Dog already.”

“So, what is this 'great mission' I’m supposed to be helping you guys study for?” You crunch down on the apple slices, popping them into your mouth like candy. They were barely the size of her pinky now. It was almost comical. You could probably eat an apple whole if you wanted.

A heavy silence falls over the table, and Lyle shifts in his seat uncomfortably. This causes the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up, and she straightens, leaning forward.

“Uh, it’s classified. Sorry. All I’m allowed to say is we’ll be going into the jungle for a while without any assistance from the RDA because of something about ‘triggering Eywa's immune response’,” he makes quotation marks in the air, scoffing at the mention of the deity’s name. “Since you were basically Dr. Augustine’s right-hand-man, you’re the most familiar with the environment. The other guys haven’t even left the base.”

You wanted to press the issue more, sensing that they're lying about something in order to keep you in the dark, but you push it aside for now. “You keep mentioning Avatars, are those it over there? That's all that's left of the program?”

“They act like they are holier than us just cause they aren’t RDA property. They still have their human bodies to return to at the end of the day. They seem to think that that makes us… more stupid? Less competent? Whatever their deal is, I’m about ready to kick their teeth in if I hear one more snide remark,” Zdinarsik, Z-Dog, huffs, slapping her palm against the table.

The others, seeming to get bored with the conversation, stand up and split off, leaving to go do whatever they’re assigned to do. You sigh, grabbing your tray and turning towards the exit doors to drop it off on your way out.

“The Colonel likes to do his drills at 0500. The courtyard is outside of the south exit of our facilities. If you’re serious about sparring and stuff, I’ll see you out there?” You nod silently, dropping the tray into the slot in the wall, following the tall woman out the door and towards the main entrance of the tower. “Try not to let the others get to you. Especially Lyle. Mansk hates everyone, Walker will give you the cold shoulder till you prove you’re worth her time, and Zhang is just skeezy. I’d steer clear of him.”

“And the Colonel?”