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ana-lora-rein · 1 year

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𝘌𝘺𝘬𝘵𝘢𝘯 𝘛𝘴𝘢𝘩𝘦𝘺𝘭𝘶 ܟ 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 1 ܟ Broken Wings

Amateur translation. Postcanon.

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Marines don't die, they go to hell...

His ears were ringing endlessly, and his heart, pounding frantically in his chest, seemed about to burst out. The only thing that cooled off was the tailwind, which kept from passing out. If he had lowered his eyelids for even a second, in a fainting state, he would have fallen from the flying banshee straight into the rocky abyss of the soaring mountains. Miles felt warm trickles of blood rolling down his temples. He had to overcome the stabbing pain in his body to brush it away with his hand.

— Bitch... — Quoritch cursed, spitting up the clots. He gripped his fingers tightly on the collar straps of the winged beast, guiding it toward the base.

The flight wasn't long, but all the way there, Miles had only one thought: Why didn't his son stay with him? Little Spider, struggling with conflicting feelings, did not let him die: pulled from the bottom of the wreckage of the sinking shuttle, growled one last word and fled away. Maybe the kid did it out of the compassion he'd inherited from Sally? Or out of a sense of indebtedness to the one who had brought him into the world? In any case, the colonel was left confused. And in the back of his mind, two very different beginnings were struggling. They, like cats, were gnawing at him from inside, reminding him that sooner or later he would have to choose. One was demanding to turn around, to find that scoundrel Sully and take out the wretched gang for the damage they'd done, and the other was wanting to forget, to tell everyone to go to hell. His jaw clenched in irritation, and Miles clenched his teeth. He promised himself he'd figure it out. But there was no way to undo what had happened. His team, his loyal comrades-all of them dead at the hands of the blue apes. What a shame for him as commander! Poor Lyle. He wanted to go to the makeshift sauna at the bottom of the hill just outside the town. And the Reaper... She'd still be alive and well, even if she was blue in the body. Mansk had intended to ask the beastie out on a date. And though all the boys knew how foolish his idea was, he couldn't ask anyone else out.

«Scumbag Sully and his cum wife!»

A gagging interrupted Miles' thoughts. Rekom crouched on his side, spitting out blood. A stinging, biting pain squeezed under his ribs. He mentally counted the damage his enemy had done: a punctured shoulder, something like a lung wound, a concussion that made him dizzy and his eyes swim. All this he had felt once before. On Earth War, it was like déjà vu, a memory that came back to him. The pain was the same, but the motivation was different.

Hear that, Sally, how does it feel to betray your country?

The Winged Beast. Banshee. It suddenly nervously fluttered its wings, screaming as if distraught. The animal sensed everything the rider was experiencing. The colonel remembered the connection (tsaheylu). This connection seemed too strong, too obscene and too explicit. Gathering his will into a fist, Miles took a deep breath and exhaled, placing his palm against the banshee's head. He stroked the beast, tried to calm it down, because we don't need the bird to get nervous and send it into the abyss. The colonel understood that he had to get to know his new friend better, to learn the subtleties of communication.

Like a thunderclap, the wireless rattled loudly in his ear. He still had the earpiece with the microphone in his ear.

— Quaritch! Can you hear me? General Ardmore calling!

— Shit... — Miles sighed heavily, coughing and coughing up, — Yes, I'm on the line, General! The mission failed, there were too many of them! Back to base!

— Why haven't you been in contact for two hours?! What happened?! What happened to Dr. Ian Garvin?!

— Missing or dead.

— And Captain Mick Scoresby?

Miles crouched in pain and wrapped his arm around himself, trying to answer as calmly as possible. He never liked to report, especially to women, and the worst thing for him was when it was a woman who turned out to be the boss. The colonel could only respect the generaless for the first half of the day he met her before she got under his skin with arrogance and prejudice.

«Fucking bitch...»

He had to unfasten the Velcro vest and throw it off his bloody body: even the clothes squeezing his chest prevented him from speaking.

— Missing or dead, — the Colonel repeated.

— Go immediately back to the scene and find the doctor! Can you hear me?

— I hear you. — Miles's breathing quickened and his eyelids seemed too heavy.

He wanted to finish, but the shroud that fell over his eyes and the ringing in his ears plunged him into darkness. His hands slid down, and recom fell chest-to-chest on the banshee's neck, finally losing his composure and his equilibrium.

***

Laura Asadi always loved weekends. Even though the sun was beating down like never before, illuminating the city streets with its scorching rays and casting glares on the glass panoramas of the buildings, she went to the park for a long-awaited jog. Nothing could have made her happier than the mesmerizing nature of Pandora. Unless it was music on her headphones and a desire to pursue dancing, singing, photography, or maybe even writing a novel. But as much as a young soul's heart tugged at creativity, it was her profession as a therapist that allowed Laura to leave a dying planet and find herself in the most influential organization. The RDA appreciated her abilities and welcomed her into their ranks. They gave her a new life that she longed to share with her family. Happy for their daughter's fate, her parents remained on Earth. Laura could only arrange their move to Pandora by working off her first contract, and she humbly awaited that day.

The week flew by unnoticed. Every day she had to work late with patients caught up in the maelstrom of events. People couldn't find common ground with the local tribes: A prolonged war had broken out. Diversion after diversion claimed more and more victims. Few survived the battle with the Na'vi. Lora understood that they were fighting for their territories, and were not at all happy to have unexpected visitors from space. Any attempt to negotiate between the two parties to the conflict was backfiring. Too different lives, too different species, too different view of the world.

Laura admired the philosophy of the Na'vi. Before going to bed, she read books about this amazing species, their culture and everyday life. She especially liked the works of the once popular scientist Grace Augustine. Fifteen years ago this woman had managed to make contact with the Omatikaya forest clan. They even built a school for children, where Miss Augustine taught earthly lessons and shared her knowledge. But, unfortunately, her efforts were wasted. There was a conflict that remained the subject of numerous theories. Laura heard only one truth: A certain Marine Jake Sully, an Avatar member, sided with the Na'vi during the first war, gathered the clans into an army, and prevailed by expelling the humans from Pandora. This precedent has remained on everyone's lips to this day. After all, from time to time Sully would sabotage military depots and blow up cargo trains. Some considered him a collaborator, a traitor to the motherland, and some quietly admired him and wished him victory. Laura, on the other hand, always found it difficult to choose. She tried to stay out of the fuss and do her job - to heal the wounded, to save lives. After all, working off her contract to get her family back from a dying, poisoned Earth.

Gathering her long dark hair into a ponytail, Laura stepped into the thicket of the park, breathing in the scents of the local flora through the transparent oxygen mask. She liked to come here in the mornings when she got up early: she enjoyed nature, and fed the funny prolemurs with bananas before exercising. Some animals began to recognize her, came down from the trees and unceremoniously stretched out their paws in the hope of getting a treat. This time red apples were waiting for them. No sooner had the girl rustled her backpack than twigs rattled around her. On all sides there were those who wanted to eat them. They wiggled their ears, curiously waiting and looking at the guest with interest.

— Guys, not all at once, you do remember to be able to share, don't you? — Laura laughed as she handed out the apples. One of the cubs, begging for attention, climbed down from his mother and brazenly climbed onto the girl's shoulder, wrapping one pair of long paws around her and tugging at the strap of her top with the other. — Oh, is that you, buddy? I remember you, you're growing up fast...

She quickly got used to and grew to love the animals here. Her acquaintances and colleagues always wondered how these animals let her in so quickly. After all, usually prolemurs tried to stay away from people, and if they approached, it was only for a moment. Inadvertently, Laura thought she loved animals more than people, and she should have gone to the veterinary department. If it weren't for her promise to her dad and her love of the arts, she would have. Born into a family of the medical generation, she hadn't found the courage to break a long-standing tradition. Even though she felt out of place, she was one of the best in the department.

Asadi didn't have time to finish feeding the prolemur pack. Suddenly the roar, so wild and piercing to the core, made the beasts scream and scatter in panic in the bushes. The girl shuddered, clutching her heart in terror. The sweep of bright blue wings that came down on the ground, crushing the bushes, shocked and stunned her. Laura had never seen a mountain banshee this close. From something screaming in panic and shaking her head. The girl opened her eyes in wild amazement. A bloodied, unconscious Na'vi had fallen from the winged animal's back. A tall blue body in military gear fell between two prickly bushes. The banshee flapped its wings and rose into the air, disappearing into the sky.

«Oh my God, it's an avatar!»

Laura dropped to her knees and crawled toward the man. The long thorns of the bushes touched her tanned skin, scratching her to the point of pain. The girl clenched her teeth from the unpleasant thrill, but, holding herself together, approached the victim. Streams of blood trickled from his wide nose, mingling with the profuse sweat on his blue skin. The avatar furrowed his dark eyebrows and lowered his pointed ears in pain and agony, but he did not regain consciousness. He only opened his mouth, breathing heavily in the air he needed.

Laura caught her breath. She stared in shock at the three-meter-tall humanoid she was seeing for the first time in her life. Her hands were shaking with excitement. She hadn't had to deal with avatars yet. The therapist wasn't sure she could give first aid to this creature properly, because she didn't know how much their anatomy matched that of a human. But despite her fear and uncertainty, her therapist habit was to go nowhere. With feverish movements, she began to check for a pulse and determine the damage to her body. The girl also fleetingly noticed the long tail she had accidentally sat on. She hesitantly put her palms to the humanoid's chest, probing for numerous cuts. Blood was flowing from the punctured shoulder. She had to act immediately. The purple insignia of skulls and a snake on the victim's clothing suggested that this was someone very important to the RDA. A recombinant organism. Back from the dead, he risked ending up on the other side of the world again.

The therapist gathered her senses and was vigilant. She grabbed the edges of her cotton T-shirt, tearing the white fabric in two halves. A few moments more, and the punctured shoulder was carefully bandaged. The girl couldn't let it die. Quickly she took the smartphone out of her backpack with her bloodstained fingers and dialed the right number. The beeps were excruciatingly long. Laura was shaking with fear for the creature's life. She gently wiped the blood from under his nose, checked his pupils, and lifted her eyelids. Rekom was on the verge of life and death. Laura swallowed the lump in her throat. Emotions were running wild.

«God, I hope you don't die!» — Laura thought, and a shuddering veil covered her eyes.

— Emergency service. What's wrong? — The operator's long-awaited voice came through the smartphone like a breath of oxygen.

Laura perked up, holding reckom's bandaged shoulder with her free hand. He hissed desperately, like a roadkill cat, remaining unconscious with only one twitch of his tail.

— Therapist Laura-Anastasia Asadi speaks! Suburban Park sixth district, thirteenth precinct on the south gate side, a recombinant has been found in critical condition! Send a car immediately, he has lost a lot of blood, punctured shoulder! Also suspected second-degree concussion!

The wounded man moved his ear. He tried to catch every word, tried to come to his senses, but all he could do was open his blood-glued lips and whisper faintly:

— I must... I must...

— What? — Laura leaned toward his face. She excitedly contemplated every inch of smooth blue skin with smooth "tiger" stripes, and her hand gently slid down the long neck of the amazing creature, where the pulse beat faintly.

— Miss Asadi, five minutes, the brigade is on its way, wait!

***

At the end of the long, bright tunnel, flooded with blinding light, Miles saw the outlines of people. They were calling his name and rank, asking him to return. Somewhere he'd heard those voices before, painfully familiar, but no image had ever emerged in his mind.

«Who are they? And what do they want?»

As if he were weightless, light as a feather, he floated and felt absolute serenity. He did not want to fly to the sound of the voices. He wished he could stay. This strange place of walls of bright white light engulfed him with every second and distanced him from human silhouettes. It seemed so familiar, so quiet and safe. There was no noise, no one was giving orders. And there was no pain.

«It's so good here» — Miles thought, but the bliss was short-lived. An invisible force, like a magnet, pulled him forward along the tunnel. A sense of excitement and fear made his heart beat fast. Now he heard not only people's voices, but also the pounding of his own heart. Something squeezed his lungs. The feeling of his body returned. And the pain returned. The heaviness in his right shoulder was accompanied by a groan. Miles opened his eyes.

— Finally! We thought we'd lost you, Colonel, — said the man in the big round glasses and white coat. The nurses, standing on either side of the patient, shined flashlights directly into his eyes, testing the response of his pupils. Miles exhaled irritably. He wanted to raise his hand and shove the pesky medics away, but the straps of sturdy material prevented him from even moving.

— What the hell? — the recom stared at the restraints that held him in one position, overcoming the stabbing pain in his ribs.

— I'm sorry, sir, this is an involuntary measure. Do you remember what happened to the previous shift of doctors? Your violent reaction sent them to the ICU.

— I'll put you in the ICU if you don't take off those fucking bracelets right now. Now!

— Sir, no, I can't, I'm sorry, that's an order... — the doctor smiled tensely, adjusting his glasses on his thin humped nose.

— I order you! — growled grudgingly Miles, emphasizing the pronoun.

— Please, sir, calm down, you can't be nervous, you've been injected with a double dose of antibiotics...

The doctor's speech of trembling, uncertain words was interrupted by an electronic beep. The massive doors parted to the sides, opening to the visitors. General Ardmore appeared in the ICU in the company of several guards and with a man in a black business suit. When Miles saw people in such suits in front of him, he was knowingly preparing for something unpleasant. These well-dressed rats always demanded too much and gave nothing in return. The first thing he would remove from his memories of his past life was service to such chumps.

— You have no right to give orders if you can't handle even a simple task,— the general said, and walked over to the wounded man, looking at his injuries from head to toe with a look of frustration, — report what happened. And where's Dr. Ian Garvin?

Miles pressed his lips together, holding back the urge to curse, and, clenching his fists, obediently answered:

— The ship sank. The crew, the doctor, and the captain are probably dead. So were my men. Sully attacked from several flanks. There were more of them than we thought, there was little chance of winning.

— But those chances were there? — the man in the suit asked.

Miles glanced at the stranger, thinking only of how nice it would be to take a cool shower now, but instead he had to lie in the medication-soaked room and report back.

— That's right. If it hadn't been for their tame whale with amrita in its head, I'd have executed the scumbag Sally.

A tense feeling arose in his mind. He remembered how the blue savage, Sally's wife, had put a dagger to Spider's throat, intending to avenge her son's death. But was Miles guilty of that? Jake, as a father, had failed. The inevitable war, one way or another, would have touched everyone anyway, and the family leader could have ensured that the children would not be involved. But he himself gave the trump cards to the enemy and was punished by fate.

— Are you going to write in your report that the whale is to blame for your failure, too? Or maybe you screwed up strategically after all? — The generaless folded her arms across her chest in displeasure, glaring at recom with her penetrating eyes from beneath her camouflage cap.

Miles turned his head away, looking out the ajar window, and for a few seconds there was silence in the ICU. There, on the base grounds, right on the roof of the warehouse, sat his dark blue banshee. The celestial predator spread her broad wings that dangled gracefully on either side of the roof and brushed out her feathers. Military onlookers passed by, darting away as if she were a demon, but the bird was strikingly calm.

«What devotion» — still marveled the recom.

The irritation was replaced by an unpleasant longing somewhere in the depths of soul. Son. He came to mind again. The boy had chosen to stay with the one who had raised him since he was a baby, even after the demon stepmother had nearly slit his throat. Miles tried to understand his own feelings and inadvertently imagined two different beings struggling inside him.

«You little bugger, all because of you!» — thought the colonel, remembering the face of the furiously snarling Spider.

— I'll make the report very honestly, don't worry, General,— he said, looking at his boss again with a calm look.

— It's not the report I'm worried about, it's your recklessness and stupidity! You've been dragging around with that wild boy and you've let your guard down.

— You're looking in the wrong direction, General. I took Sully by surprise, killed his son. He'll come. He'll want revenge. Then it'll be over quickly.

— Oh, so the result of the defeat is the future? — The man in the suit came back into the conversation. He kept writing something down in a folder. — You sacrificed an entire fleet to eliminate one saboteur? Then how many souls do you need to take out the others? Particularly the leader.

— I don't like the way he looks at me," Miles blurted out, trying to lie down more comfortably, but the pain in his shoulder made him moan painfully.

— Meet the chief administrator, Mr. Jonathan Bryce, — the general waved to the doctor, pointing to the medicines, and he obediently administered a recurrent dose of painkillers.

Miles shook his head hopelessly and closed his eyelids tiredly. The voices ringing in his head were getting tiresome.

— The last thing I need here is another Selfridge...

— Don't be sarcastic, Colonel. Do you realize why you were sent here again? — asked the man named Bryce, — because I got the impression that you had lost the thread of the narrative in the cases.

— You can't judge a war that isn't over by one lost battle,— Miles immediately retorted, — Sully will come back himself, and this will be our chance to eliminate the bastard.

General Ardmore's face stretched an ironic smile. She spread her arms to her sides and replied:

— You have lost twice, Colonel. Once in that life. The second time in this life.

— Honestly, I don't quite understand what happened in that life, — recom frowned unhappily, shaking his head, — everything seems like some kind of deja vu and only, with some sense of the past. Bryce, tell upstairs that I've been sold a blue marriage.

— And it isn't a marriage at all, Colonel, — the man smiled haughtily, as if hiding something important, and then slammed the file shut.

Miles opened his yellow eyes in bewilderment, and even the general looked questioningly at the RDA representative.

— What does that mean? What do you mean?

— Tell me, Doctor, how long will the recombinant have to be serviced? — Bryce ignored the colonel's questions.

— With injuries like that it will take at least a week, — replied the medic and scratched the back of his head, unsure of his patient, — sir, it is advisable not to disturb him even now...

Bryce squinted, tapping his fingers on his folder, then looked at the general and said confidently:

— We need him tomorrow.

— Tomorrow?! — The doctor's jaw dropped, — but, sir, it's highly irrational, he... He needs rest and treatment...

— Well, now I know why they tied me up! — Miles laughed out loud, — Doc, you didn't want me to blow somebody's face off, did you?

— You have some special remedy for our colonel, don't you? — Bryce went on asking questions, insisting on his point.

— Yes, but you don't understand...

— Wonderful! - he interrupted the doctor with a satisfied smile on his lips," Then you know how to get him back on his feet.

«What are these bitches hiding?».

***

Time was nearing sunset when Laura took off her disposable work robe and tossed it into a small recycling chamber. At the push of a button, not a trace of the artificially created used fabric was left. The day had been impossibly boring, except for a failed morning jog. Couldn't get that wounded recombinant out of my mind. Big and blue and so adorable that Laura couldn't help but worry about him. Every now and then she wondered if he had survived. She hoped for the best, and didn't have the courage to call the Center. And who on earth would report the well-being of an important RDA recom to an ordinary GP? Laura was sure that even such information remained a secret within the walls of the organization. The recombinant program remained inaccessible to most of the staff: none of the rank-and-file knew about its details, only the creators themselves and the upper ranks of specialists. Laura had heard that every employee touched by the program signed a nondisclosure agreement, and leaking information threatened huge fines and prison. But there were even crazier rumors: a rumor had circulated among a large group that one of the scientists had gone missing after management learned of his entries in a personal diary. He was writing down what he was obliged to keep only in his head, and the RDA thought he might have been passing secret information to the ranks of the enemy. When Laura first heard this story, she only wondered to whom this scientist could have revealed secrets if the RDA had no competitors on Earth for thirty years? They were absolute monopolists. Could the scientist be revealing secrets to the Na'vi clans? But what could they possibly know about it? Or perhaps he was secretly collaborating with Jake Sully himself? Whatever the truth was, Laura didn't believe these tales, and only smiled at such stories.

With an unpleasant heavy weight on her soul due to not knowing the fate of the recom, Laura was about to leave the infirmary, but then she was called at the guardhouse. The operator behind the monitors, named Sam, waved, and the therapist immediately walked over to the counter.

— Let me guess, you mean I'm being left on the night shift again? — Laura leaned her head on her side tiredly.

— Pumpkin, what do you think of me! — laughed the red-haired operator in the black uniform, — Do you really think I only intend to bring you bad news?

— Why? — Asadi stretched out and laughed in response, — it's not bad news at all, I love my job and my patients, it's just that only robots can have no rest.

— I know, I know, you try harder than anyone else, — Sam said as he patted the girl's hair, which fell in a wavy mop of long dark strands to one side as Laura habitually tucked it back and to the side.

— Oh, you sly fox,— she scowled playfully, — just to flatter.

— And you're wrong, not flattery at all, — the guy pulled out of his jacket pocket almost transparent card, handing it directly into the hands of his partner — a name pass of the first level. Passed a few minutes ago. But don't flatter yourself, it's disposable.

Laura opened her eyes in amazement. She twirled the card several times, as if to verify its authenticity. Such passes were issued only to personnel from the RDA Center: scientists, engineers, programmers, elite military and directors. She looked questioningly at Sam, who was smiling, genuinely pleased with her reaction.

— Yeah, yeah, it's right up there. They said the management wants to see you today.

— They did? But... why? — Laura panicked, feeling her cheeks redden as her blood pressure soared — oh God, did I do something wrong? Did I kill the patient? That's right, I killed him!

Sam laughed, throwing his head back and grabbing his stomach.

— Baby, come on, calm down! It's just a request to appear in front of your superiors. Maybe they want to promote you.

— Sam! Promotion? You... — Laura looked at the chart, — Jonathan Bryce? That's the kind of authority given to our chief medical officer so he doesn't have to bother the top for no reason.

— Well, then the head doctor can fire you too, why would Bryce have to write you a pass like that and call you in to see him? — The guard barely calmed down, wiping away the tears that came out of laughter, — God, pumpkin, you're just a miracle, you made my day more fun, I love you...

Laura put her palm to her forehead, herself barely restraining a laugh from her silly reaction. But at times like this, when excitement overwhelmed her, she couldn't help herself. Laura possessed concentration and vigilance only in her work, because she understood that she could not make mistakes as a professional. But in life, this philosophy did not apply.

— I'm sorry, Sam, I... I sometimes lose control... — the therapist took a deep breath and exhaled, looking at the pass again. — It says the time. That's in about twenty minutes. I wonder why I'm being summoned.

— Let's go for a ride, and we'll find out together? — Sam smiled slyly, taking the backpack from the girl and slinging it over his shoulder.

— Are you on a motorcycle? — Laura pressed the pass to her chest.

— That's right, miss!

— That's good, sir! I love the speed!

***

The tailwind blew Laura's curls as she made her way to the main RDA building. Sam was accelerating faster and faster on his motorcycle, and she held him tightly by the waist as she watched the neon lights of the city. On the road, she only wondered why this building was farther away than the others. Almost at the edge of the city towered a tall gate of solid steel, shutting out whatever was going on there from the gawkers. The area looked more like a secret military training ground than a haven for scientists and business directors: endless hangars, armored vehicles, men in uniform, and fighter planes on the roofs. The area was constantly patrolled by guards armed to the teeth. No one could enter the area without a pass, which made Laura uncomfortable. She, a rank-and-file general practitioner, was suddenly given that pass.

«I hope me don't get fired» — the girl thought, resting her chin on Sam's shoulder and looking hopefully ahead at the road. And when the gates of the main building appeared on the horizon, she craned her neck in curiosity and felt her knees tremble.

Sam stopped the motorcycle just inside the security barrier that separated them from the entrance to the compound, ten meters away. The automatic metal detector emitted a distinctive beep, scanning the arrivals with a bright red stripe from bottom to top. Laura pressed her lips together uncertainly, pulling out her precious security badge. Several guards approached with machine guns. One, pointing a machine gun, walked around the arrivals as if looking for something suspicious.

— Good evening, what can we do for you? — one of the men asked, tall, pumped up and tattooed.

— Hello, delivering a guest to Mr. Jonathan Bryce, — Sam smiled friendly, nodding at the passenger in the back.

Laura felt a little uncomfortable holding out her pass to the guard. The man looked at the card, then at her, twisting it in his fingers with disbelief.

— Laura-Anastasia Asadi? — he asked in a clarifying manner to

— Yes, sir...

The second gunman's walkie-talkie crackled and he asked into the microphone:

— This is the central station speaking. Requesting validity of badge twelve thirty — two for time twenty-one zero zero. Do you copy?

— I confirm it's up to date, — a soft, female voice answered, — Let through.

Laura bit her lip with the excitement that overwhelmed her trembling soul. She looked ahead at the massive gate, imagining what everything looked like there, for she had never had to be here before. Curiosity scrambled like cats. And the guard lowered his weapon and only nodded his head forward, letting his guest through. Sam wanted to follow, leaving the bike with the guard, but he was immediately stopped by a hand.

— You can't. No pass, — the tattooed man said.

— And who's going to show her where to go? — Sam with a wave of his hands.

— Go to the gate, miss, — the guard turned to Laura, — they'll meet you there and escort you to your office.

Asadi nodded obediently and, after saying goodbye to Sam who winked at her, moved toward the gate. There she was met by a second group of guards and a screening system. She was asked to have her fingerprints and retina scanned. The access card was told to be kept until she left the building, and after that it would no longer be valid.

Laura was finally led onto the grounds. She opened her mouth in amazement, convinced she was right. A veritable military training ground. Armored vehicles, fighters, robot mechanics, and people in uniform. Several soldiers passed by in three-meter-long exoskeleton suits, raising a column of gravel dust into the air. The therapist coughed, brushing the dust off her face.

«Wow!» — she wondered.

— Miss Asadi? — A woman's voice was heard from behind, and the girl turned around to see a servicewoman in outfit.

— Huh? Yes, it's me... — Laura was confused.

— Come on, I'll accompany you to the boss's office. He's already waiting for you. Is this your first time here?

— Yes, I've never visited this building before. Tell me, why are there so many military men here? — Laura was curious, looking around with the gaze of a keen tourist.

— The war, — answered the girl briefly. — Several new regiments and units have arrived.

— Is it really that bad?

— Miss Asadie, the military is not just here to perform its direct tasks. We employ hundreds of men every day for various jobs. You don't have to worry, everything's under control.

«I want to believe it» — Laura thought, wrapping her arm tentatively around herself.

It was harder to breathe in here. There was so much dust and mechanical odor in the air that her throat became dry. With every step she took, she swallowed a lump across her throat and coughed. It seemed that the mask wasn't enough. But once inside, Asadi forgot all about air: the mask could finally be removed. Bright holograms dazzled her eyes. A group of operators was working on something, even though there were many people in military uniforms in the main hall. The monitors glowed with numerous scans of the terrain: soaring mountains, the sea, and some parts of the forested area. Laura turned her attention to the image of fallen centuries-old trees engulfed in flames. They must have been blown down quite recently by volleys of missiles. The girl casually shuddered.

— Sector Five, attention, deal with a herd of direhorse. The distance is six meters, we need a clear path to the mines, — one of the operators muttered lazily into his earpiece.

— They're really close, — the other smiled and shook his head, — I guess they're used to it.

— If the second shift stops feeding them, there won't be a problem.

— We'd better put it in the report, see if it helps.

Laura, stopping behind the cameramen, stared into the monitor where the image of the horses was transmitted and smiled as she watched several cubs frolicking beside the road. She didn't even notice the servicewoman walk to the elevator and call out to her several times.

— Please keep up, Miss Asadi, it's easy to get lost here, — the uniformed conductor warned as she pressed the button for the top floor.

Laura felt the familiar excitement again, only now, on top of everything else, her heart was jumping out of her chest: she could hear it pounding in her ears. To calm herself down, she had to take a bottle of water out of her backpack and take a few sips, but it was in vain - the water had time to heat up and was not tasty. Laura relied on her self-control, so as not to look like a pathetic, intimidated rabbit to her superiors. A long corridor, wide windows of offices and people in business clothes. Now she felt herself outside the military training ground. The top floor turned out to be exactly what she imagined the entire building to be.

— We're here, Miss Asadi, Mr. Bryce is waiting for you, — the girl guide stopped at the main translucent door, where you could see several people: one in a black suit, another in a military uniform.

Laura straightened her back and cleared her throat, nervously adjusting her loose curls. Her cheeks lit up with a treacherous blush. She couldn't hide her excitement; she always had a hard time with any lie.

— Thank you for seeing her off, — the therapist said.

— You're welcome. Come in, don't be shy, — the military woman opened the door, inviting her guest in.

Laura entered the office. Attention was immediately drawn to her. Jonathan Bryce turned around at the sound of the doors opening and immediately smiled when he saw the girl. Standing next to him, General Ardmore folded her arms across her chest.

— So you are Miss Asadi? — asked the head administrator and invited the guest to sit down.

— Yes, Mr. Bryce, I'm a general practitioner, I work in the city clinic, — Laura modestly squared her shoulders and sat down in a cushioned chair. She suddenly felt dirty and clumsy, as if a homeless person had been brought into a rich house.

— I remember you on the first day of your stay, you arrived as part of the third crew, didn't you? Serviced the frozen staff? — The Generaless stepped back to the window, observing what was going on outside.

— That's right, — Laura quickly mumbled with excitement and only then realized that this was the answer of the soldiers, but the generaless apparently found it amusing: she smiled at her succinct military answer along with Bryce. — I was twenty when I was accepted into the program, and I was twenty-five when the ship arrived on Pandora.

— I'm still new here and had no idea there were precious diamonds on the staff. A young beautiful girl, and a talented therapist too! — Jonathan splashed his hands in admiration and went to the coffee machine with three cups. — Not many people at such a young age are able to achieve intergalactic flight... Tell me, what is your secret?

Laura was confused at the question, ran her eyes around and answered tensely:

— I just got lucky... When I applied, I didn't count on anything at all, but I heard that the RDAs prefer young professionals, those who can work hard and diligently, and those who are far away from retirement...

— You really are a long way from her, — laughed the General, and Laura smiled modestly, dropping her gaze to the floor. — You're good. Mr. Bryce, you don't know yet, but this girl has already proved herself. When there was an accident on board, thanks to Miss Asadi's ingenuity, she managed to keep the frozen in their original state. She manually kept the capsules at the correct temperature for several hours while the damage was repaired. Had it not been for her idea with the tubes and the pump, we would have lost people.

— Thanks, but I was just doing my duty and listening to the head doctor, — Laura couldn't hold back a modest smile, she wasn't often praised by such big men as four-star General Francis Ardmore.

— Look at you, shy, too! — Bryce put a cup of hot coffee on the table in front of the guests. — Miss Asadi, you shouldn't be modest, you should be proud of your success and talent! After all, we invited you to express our sincere gratitude to you personally for not allowing our recombinant to perish.

Laura looked up, full of hope at the chief administrator.

— Had he survived? Is he all right?

— Thanks to your vigilance. A few more minutes and we would have lost him.

— Wow... — Laura whispered faintly to herself, tucking the unruly curls behind her ears and sighing in relief. — And I thought you were going to fire me...

— No, miss, — Bryce shook his head, taking a sip from his mug of coffee drink, — it's specialists like you that the RDA needs. Right now the ten-mile bridgehead has two million inhabitants. Most of them are military personnel, medics, scientists and engineers. But very soon, thanks to people like you and me, the city will blossom.

— You will help us to do it, won't you? - The general winked at the visitor from under her cap.

Laura smiled:

— With what I can, of course...

— Sure you can, — Bryce reached into his desk locker, pulled out another pass card, and placed it in front of the therapist. — To thank you for saving our precious recombinant, I invite you to a business dinner. There won't be many guests, but I'll introduce you to our leading scientists and specialists. We will decide where to place you, closer to the main control center.

Asadi's jaw dropped. She took the ID card with trembling fingers and clapped her eyes in amazement. It was too sudden. The unexpectedness struck at the heart, making her mentally tremble and rejoice, and outwardly just sit in a stupor at such a generous invitation from the chief administrator. She had never been to a social event before, especially to meet the cream of society. And the cream of society on Pandora was considered to be the famous talented scientists, military men, and engineers. It was an honor for Laura to meet them. It seemed as if a captivating dream had plunged her into a reverie.

— Mr. Bryce, thank you, that's... Thank you, Mr. Bryce, I would be honored to accept such an invitation... — ...Laura repeated the boss's name several times with excitement.

— We'll bring the car to your place of residence. And to make it less exciting for you, this pass can be used by two people, take someone with you to make it safer, — said General Ardmore, putting a reassuring hand on the girl's shoulder.

Laura smiled through tears of undisguised joy.

— Thank you, thank you very much...

***

— Not a bad girl, — the general stated as she and the administrator descended into the catacomb system beneath the RDA main building. A spiral metal staircase stretched down four meters, illuminated by wall-mounted neon lights. The air here was cold and musty, with a touch of medication: an unpleasant but harmless bitterness lodged in my throat.

Bryce followed the general downstairs, grabbing a protective, see-through jumpsuit with black gloves from a rack and pulling it over his business suit.

— Funny, it made me smile. I can't remember the last time someone lifted my spirits...

— Is that why you invited her to dinner, so she could keep... to keep you amused?

— I just wanted to thank for saving the colonel, that's all. I didn't expect to see such a pretty girl in the GP ranks. I'd have to go to that clinic and see if I'd be surprised.

— You can't put your finger in your mouth, Jonathan...

— I can't resist a young exotic! — Bryce laughed as he followed the general down the narrow corridor.

At the end was a massive iron door, more like a bank vault door. Inside, under the bright lights, among the chemicals and medical equipment, a group of scientists in protective, see-through jumpsuits and masks labored, observing the subjects and their reactions. Desperate cries echoed through the lab from the sealed chamber. Jonathan opened his mouth in amazement as he walked around the side of the chamber, standing in front of a thick armored window in the floor.

— Is this exactly what you told me about? — the receptionist asked with admiration.

— Yes, sir. We're still just at the beginning stage, but I think by the end of the week we'll have a result that will satisfy us.

— And we can start the cleanup as early as next week? Are you sure about that?

— Absolutely, — said one of the scientists, who approached the administrator and extended his hand in a friendly black rubber glove.

Jonathan shook the man's hand and, clearing his throat, asked:

— What exactly did you come up with? So far all I can see is a squirming blue primate. And, I don't get it, is that our recom?

— Retired, sir, — the general clarified. — One of the surviving recoms from Quaritch's group. Arrived at the base a couple of hours before the colonel. Failed, but will be able to serve in a different way now.

— On the basis of a neurotoxin, which is used by local humanoids, we managed to develop a unique powder mixture, — began to explain the scientist, not paying attention to the cries of the experimenter. — The spraying range of this crystalline substance may be small — five meters, if you wish — but the result will not disappoint you. Besides, the poisoning affects not only the fauna, but also the flora, which is consumed by the na'vi.

Lieutenant Lyle Wainfleet clenched his fists to the point of pain, trying to break free of the steel shackles. The collars around his ankles, hands, and neck squeezed his flesh tightly, preventing him from moving even a couple of centimeters. His blue naked body shuddered now and then in spasms of unbearable pain. The only thing left was to cry out desperately, hoping that at least someone would hear him from above and help him out of his torment. But the torture continued. The white gas came from the pipe every five minutes with an increased dosage.

— I'll kill you scum! I'll kill you! — Lyle screamed, baring bloody fangs like a hunted predator.

#avatar #james cameron avatar #fanfic #recom #recom quaritch #avatar recoms #recom lyle wainfleet #recom mansk #colonel quaritch #avatar the way of water #avatar2 #the way of water #avatar oc

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jeanniebug623 · 6 months

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I love Slient as Shadows!💜💜💜💜

Can we get another snippet of Chapter 33 of Slient as Shawdos?

There's a lot of moving parts to this chapter, I hope to get it done by Friday but we'll see! 😱

Has not been edited yet...subject to change. 💙🐞

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Spider...” Devin started then paused to look at the door as more footsteps echoed in the hall, “...she said she’s not.”

“What?” Spider said, turning to Devin. “What do you mean? I saw it myself. She bonded with toruk.”

“She told Quaritch the bond didn’t happen...” he replied, sounding just as defeated as Spider felt.

The teen looked back up to the dark ceiling. How could his sister think of herself as anything less than Toruk Makto? Rey’ka may have struggled when tsaheylu was first made, but she adjusted and toruk followed her lead through their bond. Including sparing his father. As if he wasn’t already miserable enough between the dull throbbing in his leg and cold vomit on his skin, now guilt was tangling his heartstrings. His poor sister...

“...she’s wrong.” Spider finally said quietly.

Devin sighed, not wanting to spur an argument in the middle of the night in a place he wasn’t supposed to be. Instead, he moved the conversation forward before making his grand escape from the hospital wing, “I’ll try to find out more about when the surgery’s going to happen. And figure out how to tell you...”

“Mansk and Ja are on our side. And maybe Prager...” Spider said. He could just sense the apprehension coming off Devin when he suggested recoms could be allies. The first two he was sure of; the last he felt was more of a neutral party. “Mansk is practically her mate and I think Ja’s just over the bullshit. I need you to find someone who was the SeaDragon we went out on. Dr. Ian Garvin, he’s a marine biologist on the ship. Please...when you find him, tell him Spider needs to see the Ocean.”

#atwow #atwow fanfiction #atwow spider #atwow oc #silent as shadows #ao3 writer #ask me anything

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prvtocol · 8 months

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RDA SciOps and Industry-Sponsored Research

To understand Science Operations or SciOps and the research conducted on Pandora one has to understand what industry-sponsored research is and note that it differs from government or foundation investments.

Individuals such as Dr. Ian Garvin, who runs the RDA’s Oceanography lab, are conducting research on Pandora under an industry-sponsored research agreement. Under contract, certain terms are negotiated around the specific goals and objectives of his research. Garvin is likely connected to a University and adheres to their research policies. His research, which seeks to understand the Pandoran oceans, is also publishable and his University is provided credit. Many academic articles and books have been written by scientists on Pandora along with popular texts to feed Earth's interest in the exo-moon. However, certain rights to his results or intellectual property may be made available to the sponsor (the RDA) so that they can use them to develop a commercial product. When Garvin discovers that amrita, a substance extracted from the dissected brain of a tulkun, is an agent that stops human aging, that discovery becomes the intellectual property of the RDA to package and profit from.

Other projects such as creating ferals by cutting off the neural queue/kuru of viperwolves and thanators are likely conducted by research teams trying to understand the effects of the neural connection in Pandoran wildlife. However, they are also under contract to try to create a service for the RDA to control these creatures (perhaps for some sort of guard dog protection).

Also relevant is that industry contracts are typically milestone-driven. It starts with an agreed-upon portion of the project funding provided upfront to begin the research while future payments are dependent on defined project goals being achieved. If these timeline markers are not achieved, the sponsor (the RDA) can pull their funding. We see this with Dr. Grace Augustine’s Avatar Program being halted when her team failed to deliver the agreed upon results (she kept asking for more time) and with Garvin’s funding becoming dependent on the quotas of amrita being met.

This firmly plants the pursuit of profit at the expense of Pandora’s population and ecosystem, even if many of the researchers are at the same time conducting valuable research in their respective academic fields. Arguably, some teams may be looking for innovations in sustainable energy, pollution reduction, medicine, and so on which they believe will benefit humanity on Earth or sustain a human population of Pandora. However, this is not disconnected from the RDA’s for-profit mission to use that research for the benefit of their company.

One can see how easily ideological conflicts arise between researchers and the RDA sponsors, and how the RDA's hold on Pandora also has a hold on what type of research is conducted there.

#⚘ ˚◞ headcanon ◞ 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓋𝑒𝓈 𝓌𝑜𝓃’𝓉 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊.#⚘ ˚◞ reference ◞ .#(( i'm doing research again...#but it's relevant to understand bri as the sciops corporate director who handles all these contracts and funding allocations #such a hard job imo :|#esp as she struggles with the ethical implications of the rda's influence on pandora just like parker selfridge did ))#avatar rda #avatar the way of water #avatar frontiers of pandora

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xenomorphee3 · 2 years

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A New Mission Chapter 1: Survived Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44672200/chapters/112389745 Miles’s Banshee, in addition to feeling his physical pain, could feel his desire and desperation to reach Bridgehead City through her tsaheylu connection with him. The physical pain in his face, limbs, body, and lungs, that she could understand. The pain was not hers though, so she could still fly in spite of it, though uncomfortably and with great concern for her “Na’vi” companion. However, her companion had emotions she could not comprehend, emotions that to the Colonel were swirls of failure, rage, revenge, relief, and sadness.

He failed his mission to capture and kill Jake Sully, and he felt rage at him and his wife, whatever her name was, for killing his fellow recombinant Marines. His Marines who had quite literally gotten a new lease on life, only for it to be cut short on this harsh planet. Miles was vengeful and not tempered at all in his ideas of killing Jake Sully and his family if anything his desires for vengeance magnified. Miles also had feelings of relief, however. The last thing he remembers was being caught in a sleeper hold under the wreck of the Sea Dragon, Jake’s arms gripped firmly, painfully around his neck. He felt overwhelming panic and fear, and just couldn’t comprehend the nature of the quick switch around. It all happened so fast. He had him. He had Jake by the neck in the clutches of his legs, but then a sudden pulse of underwater pressure and confusion. Jake had him. And then… darkness.

Miles remembers suddenly waking up at the surface of the water, a small force lurching him towards some rocks. Relief. There was sunlight, there was air, there was the opportunity for survival. Even greater relief overcame him when he realized that it was his son, Spider, who had saved him. After all that happened, a boy saves his father. However, Miles also felt a great sadness knowing that despite this effort, and the months they spent together-- months of Spider teaching him and the others Na’vi, and light-hearted recom group adventures and shenanigans, his son spurned him in favor of his enemy. Now, Miles was beat down, saddened, and ashamed. Through his swirl of pain and emotions, his Banshee knew to keep flying straight and steady.

Miles’ Banshee continued to fly smoothly over the ocean as not to aggravate her companion’s wounds. Bridgehead was about a day’s flight from the Sea Dragon wreck, the scene of his failure. Miles leaned in pain over his Banshee’s neck to grab a water canteen from her green ops pack. Miles’ Banshee was a being he had come to love though his mind would not let him overtly admit that. He could feel that she cared about him, and he cared for her. He also developed a lot of pride over having her. With her beautiful dark indigo skin and colorful patterns, he knew that she was a unique color morph given the fact that he’d never seen a Banshee like her in his previous life’s memories of 15 years on Pandora. Miles had come to call his banshee Cupcake, based on a jeering joke and reminder from Z-Dog.

[Flashback to atop the Hallelujah Mountains after all the Recoms have claimed their banshees]

“So Colonel, what’s yours’ name? Cupcake, right?” said Z-Dog cheekily. “That’s what you called it before you decked it in the face.”

“Cupcake, huh?” Said Miles. He glanced at his Banshee, who mildly hissed at him when they made eye contact. “Fits.”

[Flashforward to Miles flying on Cupcake, nothing but sea in front of him.]

He would of course come to learn that Cupcake was female, thanks to a brief biology quip from Dr. Ian Garvin, the jaded marine biologist and scientific head of CET-OPS though he didn’t much seem like he was the head of anything. He pointed out something about the anatomy of her chest, as well as her back legs that were relevant to egg-laying. Miles didn’t care to remember the details he just knew Cupcake was his girl. Miles, injured, could sense through the bond that Cupcake wasn’t 100% either. When putting his water canteen back he looked down at the gear on her neck and noticed blood stains and tears. This was from when Jake Sully's monster flying fish leapt out of the water to grab her and pull her into the water, sending Miles flying and Cupcake panicking, desperate to get out of the water and fly away. Just that memory alone made Miles want to drive a knife through Sully’s skull. The emotion made Cupcake hiss lowly while flying.

Miles soared over the vast open sea, blue azure beauty as far as the eye can see. Ocean going banshees flying in the distance, nalutsa swimming in the clear waters below. Miles was not lacking in basic emotion, and through his pain he could appreciate the beauty, in many ways a welcome distraction, and was able to take in this sight, one that his past life certainly never had on Earth in his equivalent younger years. He recalled a memory of experiencing his first truly clear skies on the first day of his long, illustrious tour on Pandora. Of course, Miles’ recom body has never known anything else but Pandora. The conflict of human memories versus his actual experience as a recom would sometimes creep up to be too much to bear. He flicked away these thoughts like a flick of his tail… which having one was also too much to bear sometimes. But he’d rather think about his tail, and his blue skin, and his big yellow eyes, and his pointy moveable ears than confront the existential crisis that built up inside him.

As he glided, assuming that Cupcake had her bearing to Bridgehead City from her connection with him, he looked at the water far down below and noticed white wakes in the sea’s surface. He gently, psionically guided Cupcake to fly lower, so he could see the source. The wakes were caused by boats. Lifeboats and life rafts in tow. Survivors of the Sea Dragon disaster! Miles honestly felt a great relief, knowing that his commandeering of the ship didn’t lead to a total human loss. That was certainly never his intention. Especially after Jake Sully ignited the missiles of the crashed gunship before laying waste the remainder of the SEC-OPS teams in his attack with his batshit crazy wife.

He was going to fly in closer, but decided it might be best to keep a distance and fly on. He at least knew he was headed in the right direction to Bridgehead upon seeing these boats. He kept flying, passing over the boats, being sure to stay high up in the air lest he be noticed as anything more than a distantly flying Banshee. There was something interesting though, two Banshees were flying near the boats a little bit ahead of them, but low. Miles remembered that he had a pair of binoculars stowed in Cupcake’s pack. He pulled them out, every reach and stretch of his arm was pain, but got them out and weakly brought them up to his eyes—which he couldn’t believe his sight. it was Lyle Wainfleet and Devin Mansk. Miles’ relief grew. Some of his marines survived. Thank god. They must have barely escaped the death throes of the ship, got their banshees and high-tailed it the hell out of there.

Miles had Cupcake speed up over the boats and dove in closer to join his fellow recoms in front of the small boat and life raft caravan of human survivors. Weakly, he touched his fingers to the comms piece on his neck and said, “Lyle, Mansk. Come in marines.” Miles waited a moment.

“Holy shit, Colonel, sir. You’re alive.” said Wainfleet over the earpiece. Miles made his first smile since the sun rose, hurting his face to make it, and said, “Corporal, you know a Marine can’t be killed.” “Oorah, sir.” said Wainfleet over the comms. “Oorah,” said Mansk.

#avatar fanfiction #avatar quaritch #avatar james cameron #recom mansk #recom wainfleet #miles quaritch #lyle wainfleet #avatar the way of water

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atwowbrainrot-sorrynotsorry · 1 year

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Hold Me While you Wait Chapter 3 [Spider/gender neutral Reader] +Spider/Kiri

Secrets are revealed as Spider has some heavy thoughts to get off his conscience.

TW: Mega angst, Implied suicide ideation, Ardmore's mind-reading torture machine. Hugging. A lot of swearing. Probably an "M" rating for this chapter.

Spider led you out of the human's area and to the yawning mouth of the cave which split the camp in two. It was quiet at this time of night and the moss on the cave walls glowed like a galaxy of stars. Ikrans slept in clusters in the crags and ledges of the cave walls.

"C'mon, keep up." Spider called.

"There are sharp rocks. My feet hurt." You'd rarely gone without shoes in the outdoors before you'd lost your shoes on a beach thousands of km away.

Spider sat on the very edge of the chasm, his legs dangling towards the ground hundreds of metres down. You sat beside him.

"Colonel Quaritch is still alive."He said solemnly. "I saved him from drowning. I saved the man who wants to kill my everyone I love." He looked over for your reaction.

"But why? That makes no sense."

"Maybe so, but you didn't know him like I did. He didn't just possess the memories of my dad. Miles Quaritch was...give me a second. It's complicated. He cared about me. He *saw* me. He made me laugh. And I... I'm not a killer. You should have seen how desperate he looked in that water. In the past year I've seen more cruelty from the hands of the sky people than in the previous 15 years combined. I refuse to be like that. I won't let Neytiri be right about me. I'm not a traitor, but I can't watch someone dying preventably and not help."

You wondered what Neytiri had to do with this, but spider continued with the flood of his confession.

"Of course, She'll kill me anyway if she ever finds out it was me who saved him. I wonder where Quaritch is now, if he's hiding in the forest, plotting and biding his time? Is he killing Jake right now and we won't learn until tomorrow? Have I damned us all?" Spider was panting, his voice breaking in grief. He stared over the edge of the cave. He stared into that midnight abyss a little too hard. "It's okay to cry." You said. "I'm honoured you trusted me with that information first, but you need to tell Norm. You don't have to say it was you who saved him." You gripped Spider's shoulders. "Let's get you a little further from this ledge, you're making me nervous." Spider scooted back a bit and put his knees to his chest and sobbed. "All I do is get in the way and mess things up."

"Buddy, I'm in no fucking shape to be your therapist, but I get why you did what you did. And since we can't do anything about Quaritch from all the way over here, maybe it'll help to theorize what he is planning. All that time with the recoms, you must have some idea what he was planning. And I spent a year on boats in the reef where you lost him. Where was the last place you saw him?" You asked.

Spider took a deep breath. "I don't know. It was rocky. The shore was rocky. It was fairly close to where the boat sank."

You thought back on your shipwreck experience. "Ok, that does not narrow it down a bunch, but when I was floating in the ocean, I didn't see any survivors. Granted, It was dark. But when I got to shore it wasn't rocky, there were trees, so let's assume he went in the opposite direction from me. How well does Quaritch traverse the terrain?"

"Fairly well, for a sky person." Spider gave a half hearted smile. "He has an Ikran."

"Really? That changes things. Do you remember the marine biologist, Dr. Ian Garvin? Well he had a house boat of sorts, a portable lab. I'd imagine it would be quite easy to find from the air. And it'd have a radio, and rations, and probably spear guns or something. If Quaritch found that, he could contact the RDA and get reinforcements." You theorized.

"You're not helping me feel much better about the situation." Spider groaned.

"Or perhaps, an airlift back to Bridgehead?"

"No" Spider theorized. "The Colonel wouldn't give up quite that fast. I'd bet General Ardmore would have his ass if she knew he let Jake Sully get that close and slip through his fingers again. I think Quaritch would rather not let them know he failed again."

"You're pretty smart you know that?" You told him.

"Think so?"

The two of you settled that it was likely a stalemate and that Jake could handle his own. You sat in silence for a bit, enjoying the glowing night.

"Is that all you want to tell me." You finally asked.

"Sure, I could go on, but if I don't stop now, I'll never stop talking, I'll just keep finding other memories to be upset about." Spider moved to stand up but you grabbed his hand to pull him back down.

"It sounds like you've been holding a lot inside. Am I right to think there's been too much shit going on, nonstop, for you to process your emotions?" You asked resigning yourself to playing therapist.

"Yeah."

"Well, there's nobody else here right now, and nothing else to get done. Tell me one more thing that weighs on your mind. How exactly were you separated from the Sully's and taken by the RDA anyway?"

Spider recounted the story of how the Sully kids had seen some military strangers with Na'vi bodies scoping out an abandoned lab trailer, how they were caught, but saved by Jake and Neytiri just in time, but they did not save Spider. "I don't blame Neytiri for that." Spider added.

He told you how Colonel Quaritch recognized him, and how He recognized Quaritch despite his new, blue appearance. "It's really messed up, demonic technology to bottle a soul and bring it back in a new body. He didn't even get peace in death."

They'd hauled Spider off to Bridgehead where he'd been uncooperative and refused to give them any information. "This bitch of a General strapped me into a machine and it had these panels that spin around my whole body. It was unholy bright and then it felt like my brain was being pulled in two by magnets. Worst headache of my life. Memories were being drawn forth that I did not think to think about. The General was still yelling at me, but I couldn't really understand her over the pain and the whirl of the machine."

"I realized they could see my memories and were searching for clues to where Jake had gone. It was so violating. I couldn't allow them to get anything out of me. If they could see my thoughts, then I couldn't allow myself to think anything useful. I used all my strength to think about Kiri's hands. I pictured every line, curve and freckle, mapping them out in my mind, and when Ardmore tried to steer my thoughts away, I doubled down. I moved on to Kiri's hair. I couldn't even let Ardmore see her face unless recognizing her was somehow useful. So I pictured myself rebraiding her queue. My imagination went tunnel vision on the back of her head. My head still hurt, but Kiri was the only image both powerful enough to think about forever, and neutral enough to be useless to the RDA. I don't know how long the mind-rape went on for but it stopped abruptly. Then I was taken to room with just a table, so Quaritch could try to "good cop" the information out of me."

Spider finished talking and looked your way with distant, unfocused eyes like he was still seeing that machine at Bridgehead, and not you or anything else at High Camp.

"Damn buddy, I'm sorry. Do you need a hug?" You asked, spreading your arms. Spider reached for you, with equal amounts eagerness and caution. You hauled the larger boy into your lap. He rested his head on your shoulder, still crying. You could feel the warm brush of his breath on your neck, his hair tickling your cheek. The two of you sat like that in silence until his breathing evened out.

"C'mon man. Let's go back to the sleeping area. My legs are falling asleep." You said, patting his back. Through the cave entrance dawn shown its pink light.

"Okay, and thanks." he said.

"Anytime."

Back in the oasis of Earth atmosphere, you took off your exopack with a yawn, and you and Spider crept silently through the maze of hammocks and bunk beds. You climbed in your hammock and adjusted your life vest under your head. It had found new purpose as a pillow.

Once again, just as you were drifting to dreamland, you were awakened. "Get up, Kiddos!" Avatar Norm yelled, slapping both you and Spider on the shoulder. It was meant fondly, probably, but his hand was bigger than your face. "Y/N, I have a few people from the engineering and mechanics team for you to meet."

Oh, right. You thought once again about how you'd decided you'd actually like to learn Na'vi weapons making, but now didn't seem like the time to mention it, as Norm stood expectantly.

Thanks for waiting all week for the update, this chapter was difficult to write, due to the heavy subject matter. At one point, I felt dread at the thought of writing. I'll have a more light hearted chapter up next.

Here's the link to the entire work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45911749/chapters/115558099

#Avatar fanfiction #Spider Socorro #Spider Socorro/reader #avatar the way of water

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theythrowhimaway · 2 years

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I found fanfiction of one of the scientists, Ian Garvin, (might be canon, not sure) by Dan Kois on the Slate.com. He’s one of Cameron’s fav characters so this might help your fanfics.

Dr. Ian Garvin: The Complete Letters Home From Pandora

May 24, 2168

Dear Mom and Dad,

I just can’t believe I’m here!! Yesterday the robots on the ISV woke us from cryosleep. After a quick shower and a shave—I don’t mind telling you I got a little foul after six and a half years in a pod!—I went off in search of my cabin so I could behold the majesty of Pandora. It took me a little while to find my room, which is definitely one of the smallest ones on the ship. The RDA officers and the engineers and the defense contractors and the skel-suit polishers get much bigger ones. But hey, I didn’t choose xenomarine biology—it chose me!

Anyway, once I found my cabin, I crouched on the hard steel floor in order to peek out the very small porthole. But Pandora is incredible! The water is so brilliantly blue from up here. It made me think about growing up with you two in Wellington, watching news reports about Pandora on the holotelly. I still remember what you said, Dad: “Someday, son, you’ll go to college in the United States, shed your New Zealand accent entirely, and travel to that beautiful place, to help humans understand the glory of life on another world.”

I met the guy in the cabin next to mine, a xenobotanist named Larry. We can hear each other through the walls! He mentioned something about a fire that burned down this huge tree, which seems like a real bummer. Happily, humans haven’t spent much time on Pandora’s oceans, so it sounds like I’ll have a lot of freedom to explore and learn. Before we left Earth, everyone was talking about unobtanium—I guess I’ll have to be on the lookout for some of that.

Tomorrow we go down to the surface! I’m so excited. I’ll send you another letter from there.

Love, Ian

June 15, 2168

Dear Mom and Dad,

Holy Eywa (Pandora word)! This place is more amazing than I ever dreamed. While I’m a little nervous about the impact that humans are having on the natural environment here, I have to admit it’s pretty remarkable seeing all that we’ve been able to accomplish. We settled down on the moon’s surface in a big shuttle. Larry hated that part, where we instantly incinerated over 600 hectares of forest with our reverse thrusters. “Larry,” I told him, “it’s a big jungle!” But he was inconsolable.

The SeaDragon is equipped with harpoons, machine guns, and hundreds of depth charges, which are for self-defense only. Our base, Bridgehead, is enormous, and they’re just starting to build all the armories, refineries, prisons, mining platforms, and gun emplacements necessary to fulfill our mission here, which I’ve been assured is one of peace and tolerance for all living things. Along with all my textbooks and instruments, the shuttle delivered a cool new boat. It’s called the SeaDragon. I asked if we could call it the SeaScientist, but I was outvoted. It can travel 130 knots and can even lift off and skim the waves. It’s also equipped with harpoons, machine guns, and hundreds of depth charges, which are for self-defense only. I’m taking it out on the ocean for the first time tomorrow. I can’t wait.

This is funny: No one cares about unobtanium anymore! It turns out it’s unobtainable, which no one could have predicted. All the RDA guys are really on me to find some other insanely rare and valuable material that will make everyone rich. I was like, “I just got here, guys! No one’s even explored the ocean yet! Get Larry to find you some magic weeds!” They laughed at that—I think they like me.

Love, Ian

June 28, 2168

Dear Mom and Dad,

Wow. That’s all I have to say. Wow.

As we flew across the cobalt-blue water in the SeaDragon, all I could think was how lucky I was. Lucky to live in a time in which human beings get to experience life on other worlds. Lucky to land this position as my first job after getting my Ph.D. Lucky that the RDA was willing to take a chance on me even though I failed my oral exams seventeen times. I choked up, I admit it. Our captain, an Aussie named Mick, was like, “What’re you crying about, you baby?” He’s a hard man, a man of the sea, and he enjoys gently ribbing his crew.

But that moment, touching as it was, was nothing compared to our sighting of the first pod of tulkun. It’s impossible to describe these enormous, peaceful creatures, which in their quiet majesty and deep, spiritual intelligence are like nothing I’ve ever seen, although if pressed I would say they’re basically whales. They’ve got four eyes, though.

They surfaced alongside the SeaDragon, playful and curious about this steel intruder in their waters. Captain Mick offered to perform a few experiments to see how they would respond to assorted stimuli, like him insulting them over the loudspeakers (“You’re a bunch of fat wankers!”) or shooting them with rifles. Serene and composed, the tulkun did not respond. Once Captain Mick tired of his experiments, I had the opportunity to observe their social structure and communication, which again are fully alien, unlike that of any creature on Earth, although if I had to compare them to one animal, sure, it would be whales.

After an hour or so, Captain Mick joined me on the deck to watch a mother tulkun frolic with her calf. I could tell that underneath his crusty exterior he, too, was moved. “You reckon those fuckers taste like tuna?” he asked.

Then we returned to Bridgehead, where in my closet-sized chamber I was lulled to sleep by the steady explosions caused by our attempts to communicate peacefully with the Na’vi (the mean blue guys).

Gratefully, Ian

[A beautiful tulkun leaping from the sea.]

I took this photo of a tulkun at sunset. Isn’t it awesome? I love these guys and would never do anything to harm them. They do sort of taste like tuna. Dr. Ian Garvin Feb. 3, 2169

Mom! Dad! I’m famous!!

I’m sorry it’s been so long since I’ve written, but by the time you get this letter, you’ll know what’s been keeping me so busy. I have made a discovery that will change the world—nay, the universe. Drink deep of my genius, and glimpse immortality itself!!!

Sorry, I know I’m being what my Wellington classmates would have called a “tall poppy.” I just can’t help it! I’m very excited.

A few months ago, I was out in the SeaDragon, listening once again to Captain Mick declare that we’d learn a lot more about tulkun if we just killed one of them. “What are ya, a baby?” he asked, and though I am not a baby, I was coming to see the wisdom of his argument. For did Charles Darwin merely observe the iguanas and finches of the Galápagos Islands when he was developing his theory of evolution? No, he shot a bunch of them and stuffed them and brought them back to England. Though the theory of evolution has since been disproven, erased from the literature like the Galápagos from the map, the scientific method remains sound. Our 22nd-century scanning equipment may be sensitive enough to map the interior of any living creature down to the micrometer from hundreds of miles away, a real scientist—one who is not a baby—must get his hands a little dirty.

Captain Mick was delighted, of course, and the whole crew sprang into action, inspired by their love of science. Unfortunately, the first tulkun they caught was not very useful from a research standpoint, due to them completely blowing it up with missiles (turns out the SeaDragon has missiles). But then they caught a second one with a bunch of harpoons. For several weeks afterward I drained the ever-more-pungent tulkun’s glands into whatever bottles and mugs I could cadge from the SeaDragon’s motley crew. One day, reaching for my tea, I accidentally drank deep from a mug of amrita, a viscous, golden fluid located deep in the tulkun’s brain. Well, you could have knocked me over with a Great Leonopteryx’s feather: My aging completely stopped. I was no longer aging. I saw the past and future as one, and understood that my life extended as far as the eye could see in all directions. I was, in a word, immortal.

Anyway, I told Captain Mick, and then General Ardmore called me in. I added a few drops to her coffee, and watched as she brought it to her lips with her mechanical arm. (Apparently this is the only way she drinks coffee.) Her eyes widened, and the next thing you know, we’re shipping my amrita back to Earth to be studied.

But don’t worry, guys. I told General Ardmore that I would only allow this to happen if she gave me her personal guarantee that we would harvest no more than one tulkun a year, and solely for the purpose of learning how to synthesize artificial amrita. She didn’t agree out loud, per se, but I’m pretty sure she’s as committed as me to preserving the natural beauty of Pandora’s oceans.

They threw a big party that night to celebrate my discovery. All the soldier guys were drinking a brand new kind of beer, brewed from a berry Larry discovered called the tumpasuk. Though as you know I’m not much of a drinker, I had quite a few! Larry was there, nursing a tumpasuk beer. He looked quite frazzled—he hadn’t even shaved! (You know how important it is to me to keep a clean face.) I was feeling charitable, so I told him that his delicious discovery surely rivals mine in importance. He stared at me with haunted, red-rimmed eyes, then pointed to my glass. “You’ll need that,” he said. I wonder what he meant?

Yours truly,

Dr. Ian Garvin, Discoverer of Amrita

PS I snuck a syringe of amrita into this envelope for you guys to use. If my dog’s still alive, give some to her, OK?

Nov. 24, 2169

Dear Mom,

Thanks for the shipment of new novelty T-shirts you sent. My old ones were getting pretty ratty. One thing about being immortal is that you really outlive your clothes. Another thing is that the witty slogans on novelty T-shirts no longer amuse you, although I did smile bitterly at the shirt that reads, “I’d Rather Be on Pandora.” It’s ironic, you see, because I wish I was no longer on Pandora.

Long story short, it turned out that General Ardmore was totally lying. In fact, she threatened to shut down my research laboratory unless I went tulkun hunting every week. We’ve now killed dozens of tulkun, extracted their amrita, and dumped their rotting corpses back into the ocean. Sometimes I examine their organs or whatever, but my heart’s not really in it.

Worse yet, it turns out that the tulkun are part of a whole ekosystem (sp?). We didn’t learn anything about this in xenomarine biology school, as far as I can remember, but other creatures depend on them, and the Na’vi (the blue guys) can even talk to them about what’s going on. So now I’m pretty sure that the tulkun don’t like me, on account of all the killing, and they’re probably telling the Na’vi, who already didn’t like humans very much, because of [THIS SECTION REDACTED BY REQUEST OF RDA DEPT. OF PUBLIC INFORMATION].

Anyways, it all sucks. I muddle through, thanks to my tumpasuk beer. I’ve been brewing a lot of my own, and have even worked out something like an IPA. It’s pretty good.

I’d Rather Be on Earth,

Ian

PS Thanks for telling me about Dad. I guess he won’t need the amrita you guys will receive in 2175. You didn’t mention anything about the dog, but probably she’s dead too. :(

April ??, 2170 (??)

Beloved Mother, she who brought forth life, sister of Eywa,

All I do is drink beer, kill tulkun, and cry. I’ve been reading a lot about the Na’vi (the blue guys). They’re very spiritual and cool. Did you know they believe the tulkun are their brothers & sisters? And we’re just killing themn. It super sucks. The whales have their own songs and poetry & stuff. They’re brains are like twenty times the size of a humans’s brain! Because I am immortal, I have access to all knowledge of all time, but still, it’s pretty impressive. I’m trying to be a little more Na’vi about stuff, you know? I’ve never actually talked to a Na’vi person but I like to think that we would get along. I have even got a couple of Na’vi tattoos. This one here on my arm means, like, “the great cycle of life” I think, and then this one on my lower back is more sensual.

RECOMMENDED FOR YOU My Boyfriend Keeps Stalling on the Cure-All for Our Problems in Bed Help! I Belittled a Former Co-Worker. But She Kind of Deserved It. We Opened Our Marriage. My Wife’s First Choice Freaked Me Out. Today a bunch of fake Na’vis borded the SeaDragon. I say fake because they were clearly Earth soldiers in Na’vi bodies somehow. I didn’t like it, although I did like when they yelled at Captain Mick, who’s a total jerk. We’re going outon a mission to [REDACTED]. I’m just glad we won’t be doing anything bad to any tulkun for the next couple of weeks..

Mom, being immortal is dumb. If you somehow get this letter before you use the amrita I sent, maybe don’t use the amrita. All I do is drink beer, kill tulkun, and cry. I spend a lot of time alone in my tiny cabin which is the smallest one on the SeaDragon even though I am the chief scientist and also immortal. I don’t like the person I’ve become, and now I have to be this person forever, because I no longer age. As far as I know, a tulkun could crush my boat and catapult my body into the raging sea, and even that wouldn’t kill me. Not that that would ever happen, because another thing about tulkun is that they’re total pacifists. Captain Mick calls them babies, but I think he’s the baby!!

I’ll write you when we get back from this stupid trip into the stupid ocean on this stupid moon that I hate.

Lvoe, Ian (mispelled in article)

https://slate.com/culture/2022/12/avatar-way-of-water-scientist-jemaine-clement-ian-garvin.html

#avatar #avatar movie #james cameron's avatar #ian garvin

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