Brotherhood Chapter 30
Yes, it's...that...chapter...
Brace yourselves
I meant to have this out a few days earlier but I got stuck a bit and...oh gods this was hard to write! I had to watch certain scenes over and over a couple times, just heart-rending stuff!
I'm ploughing along on my NaNo although I'm a little behind, but once I have enough of any of the sections of it ready to go it'll be posted up here, because I know you'll all enjoy it. It's called "Histories" and it's full of background information on the families of some of our favourite characters here in Brotherhood!
Anyway, here we go. I recommend tissues for those who tend to shed a tear easily.
Brotherhood Chapter 30: If a Tree Falls
Even as Grace and Jake were being taken away and bound, Antsu and Cathy were already on the move, speaking with mothers and telling them how to get to the forest house, organizing the older children into groups to guide the smaller ones. They tried not to alarm anyone too much, tried to present it to the children as an adventure, but the inevitable worry and fear was already spreading.
Once the evacuation of the children was well underway, they and Kxawn'e and Tìyana headed for the singers' alcove to try to talk to Ninat. She should leave also, and they should take Tom's avatar out of there with her. Cathy was worried that if he hadn't linked up again he must be being held somewhere in Hell's Gate, and he would want to be sure it was safe even if he couldn't do anything about it himself. And he would want to know Ninat was safe also. If he had any idea what was going on (and she wasn't sure he did, if he was locked up somewhere) he must be absolutely frantic with worry for her.
When Ninat saw them come into the alcove, she immediately curled up tightly around Tom's body again. "I will not leave him!" she said quickly, before they could even say anything.
"Ma 'ite," Tìyana knelt next to her, "you need to move somewhere safe. We will move his uniltìrantokx also, I promise."
"No!" she hissed, clutching at him tighter, "we must not move!"
Tìyana looked over at her mate, confusion in her eyes, "But Ni-tsyìp," she said soothingly, "if we move his body then you will not be leaving it."
"Kehe," she whimpered, "we cannot leave here!"
The fuss she was making had attracted attention, and Neytiri slipped in next to them, "What troubles you so, Ninat?" she asked, "What difference does it make where he wakes up?" Of course, she thought it very likely that he wouldn't wake up, that he had either abandoned them completely in betrayal, the way Jake had... But that didn't seem right. He had been so attentive...
She wasn't sure anymore which twin she was thinking about, and to whom the attention she was thinking of had been paid, but she still couldn't bring herself not to be furious at Jake for everything he hadn't said. She shook her head and tried to focus again on the problem at hand, which was finding a way to calm Ninat enough to get her to move to safety.
She closed her eyes for a moment to try to think of a strategy, but when she did, she became immediately aware of the air within the alcove, and the thick, heavy weight of Eywa's will which hovered over everything within. She sighed and stood, taking Kxawn'e and Tìyana's hands in hers. "It is Eywa's will," she said quietly, "it is a test of her determination and his, and we cannot interfere. She is not in immediate danger here, but if we move them it could be a disaster. It is hard..." she could feel tears begin to trickle from her eyes at the thought of abandoning her closest friend since childhood. She took another deep breath and started again, "It is hard, but this is how it must be."
Ninat's parents' eyes met her own, tears in both of them, but they nodded.
"Then we will comfort her as best we can, and when the time comes, we will let Eywa's will protect her," Kxawn'e said, "It will not be easy, but if it will be more danger for her if she is moved, then we will do what we must."
Neytiri nodded and quickly took her leave, letting the two of them settle down next to Ninat, who had relaxed slightly, although she didn't move from her position curled up around the one who should, by all rights, be her mate. The Great Mother had set her friend a hard trial, and Neytiri did not envy it of her. Even if her own trial was currently tugging at her heart as though it would turn her inside out.
For a brief moment when he'd told Mo'at and the crowd of angry Omatikaya his spirit animal, Jake had thought perhaps they would be set free, that they would be listened to, but Mo'at's thoughtful frown had turned into a decisive nod, and she'd turned to the people holding his arms behind his back. "Bind them," she'd said, "but not too tightly, and do not menace them in any way. They are being tested by Eywa, and we must not interfere. When they are free, it will show that their test has been passed."
Which was really un-helpful, given that their hands were bound behind their heads with really strong cord. He wanted them all to get out of there, he knew the choppers would be coming soon, but more than anything he wanted Neytiri to get out of there, and damnit she wasn't going! He could see her standing nearby, with her bow in one hand, her other hand lifted to her forehead to see what would be coming over the horizon, and all he wanted was to see her safe! He growled in frustration and tugged at the bindings again. Damnit he didn't care at this point if he was stuck still here when the tree fell, if it fell on him it would only be poetic justice...because Neytiri had been right. Even if he hadn't meant to, even if he'd tried not to, he had betrayed their trust.
Damn Quaritch and his skewed human viewpoint, and damn Selfridge and his obsession with progress... They didn't understand at all, they just couldn't See!
Ninat growled to herself as she heard someone sit down near her. Was she going to have to go through this again? She turned to look and saw Ama', one of the young singers in training. The girl set down some food and gourds filled with water and smiled at her.
"I came to keep you company for a little while," the girl explained, "I know you must stay, but I thought you must be lonely since your...your mate is injured and can't comfort you, and...and Tom is my friend also," she added, "I wanted to see you both before I go to the forest house with your parents and the rest of the singers."
"Alright," Ninat sighed in relief and shifted her position, sitting up and resting Tom's head on her lap, "it will be nice to have company for a little while, but you mustn't stay too long. I'm the one being tested by Eywa; you should get yourself to safety while you can. You will have a mate someday as well, and you should be sure to keep yourself safe for him, so he has something to fight for."
"Okay," Ama' nodded and blushed. "You are right, I...must make sure to keep myself safe so he will have something to fight for when the sawtute come."
Ninat smiled a little at that. Clearly, Ama' already had someone she had her eye on. She'd have to ask the girl more later, when it wouldn't worry her by encouraging her to think of how he might be hurt in the upcoming conflict.
In the biolab, Bailey was typing quickly and as calmly as he could. He didn't want his actions to seem like anything other than regular backing up of data since they had been told all scientific operations were being shut down indefinitely. In actuality he was initiating a program he'd put in place days ago. He and Dolan had designed it with just this kind of eventuality in mind. I would take all the live feeds from all the Sampsons, Scorpions and the Dragon which fed back to Hell's Gate and would copy them and store them in a secure, encrypted server under false file names. If this was going to be a messy situation - and, Bailey sighed to himself, it already was and was only getting worse - it would be of great benefit to all of the group of scientists working from within to have an independent record so that when the time came, they could reveal the truth to the world - to their home world - without having to rely on the no-doubt tainted and biased reports the RDA head honchos were receiving and spreading among the world news media.
As the children headed off in a long trouping line toward the forest house, Pämeya watched, her own two children held close at her side. Her mate, Tun'ut, was planning to go along with them as a healer, but she...she had a different mission.
"Are you sure of this?" Tun'ut asked, "I know you worry for your charge, but there will be those here who will need your healing hands as well."
"Yes, there will be," she sighed and leaned against him, "but she will need it more. I know my duty, Tun'ut, and it is to safeguard this woman. She is a stepdaughter of the tribe now, as I once was, and with what has happened to the tree of voices, Ka'tsi told me she is unwell."
He nodded. He was a healer too; he understood the need to safeguard a patient, to go to them when they were ill, especially for one of the midwives, whose connection to their patients was so much more intimate. "At least I will know you are safe among the uniltìranyu," he said, "and our children safe with you. Come back to me as soon as you have made sure she is well."
"I will," Pämeya kissed him and leaned her forehead against his, "and you must keep yourself safe until I return." Without any further words she mounted up on her pa'li, taking the lead ropes of the other two she was bringing with her in case they needed to move Luuisì to somewhere she could be better cared for, and then caught each child as her mate passed them up to her, little Maya tucking herself into the baby carrier that was really too small now, and Kenet clinging on behind her.
She turned them away from Kelutral and toward the place of the dreamwalkers and urged her mount forward, with good speed but not so fast that her son behind her would be jarred.
"Are you sure you don't want me to stay?" Kxawn'e asked his childhood companion, "I am just as willing to protect our home as you are, you know."
"No, old friend," Eytukan shook his head, "when it comes down to it, I am still merely a warrior, although perhaps slightly older than I once was. You will protect our home in a different way, by protecting yourself and the wealth of songs that you carry within you. The loss of one warrior, or even many, is little compared to the loss of the songs of our People."
Kxawn'e nodded. "You are far more wise than you let people see," he said, "Be safe, old friend, and I will see you when this trouble is over, and...please keep my daughter safe."
"I will see you then," Eytukan agreed, "and I will do my best to keep her safe." He frowned as he watched Kxawn'e hurry away. There was one more important thing he had to do before he moved to where the sawtute would be attacking from, the side of Kelutral which faced the river, where their flying machines would have room to manoeuvre. A messenger had arrived by ikran from the Aunrai clan, investigating the echoes of destruction which had rippled through all of Eywa's children that morning
"You have seen what the sawtute machines have done," Eytukan said to him, "and our preparations for the coming attack. It would likely be best if you were to return now, before the sawtute flying machines come close enough that they might see you. I would not wish you to put yourself in harm's way; it is more important by far that you carry what you have seen back to your own clan, so that others will know what is happening here."
"I will do so," the warrior nodded. "I will take my leave now, and may Eywa watch over you and your people."
"Eywa ngahu," Eytukan nodded in return, watching the man jog off.
As they came down the winding pathway of the river, Tom kept his breathing steady. He didn't want to let the enemy know how frantic with worry this whole situation was making him. He wanted to make sure they continued to underestimate him so that when his chance came he could escape.
"That is one big damned tree," Quaritch breathed as the choppers moved into position. His fingers moved on a screen in front of the pilot, magnifying the scene below, and he chuckled. "Bring him over here," he told the sec-ops grunts who were holding Tom's arms, "there's something he oughtta see."
Tom didn't fight as he was pulled roughly forward and his face shoved down so that he had to look at the screen. Jake and Grace were tied up to some sort of framework - he thought it looked like one of the half-made looms, actually - and they were both screaming something and struggling to get free.
"It looks like diplomacy has failed," Quaritch said with a grin, "but that's what they get for trying to betray their own kind. I'd be more'n happy to see you share their fate, but I need someone to be an example and put on trial when you get sent home," he shrugged.
"You're wrong, you know," Tom said calmly. "I won't be going back to Earth, and I won't be put on trial. The RDA'd never risk the bad press from what you're about to do."
"Oh but this is fully sanctioned by the company," Quaritch said with a falsely innocent expression that made Tom want to puke. "Take him back where he can get a good view out the window but be out of the way," he ordered the men. "This'll be a good dose of reality."
Tom could see the people, mounted on pa'li or running, moving around beneath the gunship, and his gaze searched the horizon, trying to see within the roots of Kelutral, trying to see how many were still in there. He hoped and prayed that Jake, Grace and Cathy had at least been able to persuade them to get the children to safety somewhere, and the non-combatants. God, Eywa, whoever it was that listened to these sorts of things; he prayed Ninat was not in there. 'Even if you take my avatar as punishment for my not moving quickly enough to speak of my concerns to Eytukan,' he prayed more seriously than he ever had before in his sceptical life, 'just please, please make sure she stays safe. If she dies my life isn't worth living beyond revenge.'
It was the sort of sentiment that he would have thought stupid and fatalistic even three months ago, but now...Now everything had changed. He had no regrets though, not about his choices. The only thing he truly regretted was that he hadn't listened to her when she begged him to stay. He wished they could have had at least that one time together, that one night of peaceful bliss before the world came crashing down.
When the first gas rounds delivered their noxious contents into the roots of Hometree, Mo'at was startled, even though she had been expecting some kind of attack. The fumes burned her eyes and choked her throat, but all she could think of was making sure the children got out. She hurried from group to group of those who still remained, directing them through the clouds of bitter gas toward the path to the uniltìranyu forest house. She would not run herself, though, at least, not yet. She would not abandon her home, her mate and her people so quickly, and...
And there was still Jhake and Grace to deal with. Their trial had only begun, and she needed to be witness to their actions, to see what Eywa had hinted at when she sent toruk to Jhake. When the toruk people began to emerge, it had always been a sign that a time of great sorrow approached, which, to Mo'at, meant that this attack, horrible, impossible as it was to take in, was only the beginning. There would be worse to come before they were saved, and if the uniltìranyu had any part to play, then she must guide them in it.
The first explosive rounds hit the outer supports of Kelutral and the reverberations sent Mo'at tumbling to the ground but she got to her feet again, tears streaming down her face from the gas, from the destruction and desperation surrounding her, from the thought of all the confusion her sole remaining child must be feeling at this moment, torn between the People she loved and the mate she had chosen only the night before...
Mo'at made no attempt to wipe her eyes as she emerged through the flames and smoke to the open space where their "traitors" had been bound.
Somehow, he wasn't quite sure how, Dolan and Moira had ended up among those who were in the link room when Grace and Jake went into link, and, being there, the sec-ops presence had made sure that they had to stay there, they couldn't leave. And even if they could have, Dolan likely would not have. His eyes were trained on the monitors, their streaming feed of the attack on Hometree surrounding them like some sort of movie, but, he kept reminding himself, this was no movie, this was no newsreel from some distant place and time that he was only tangentially connected to, this was visceral and real, and two people he knew were there (in their other bodies perhaps, but still, they were there!) He had never really interacted with Jake Sully, the man had only been in Hell's Gate itself a few times since his arrival, but Dolan respected Grace. Her samples were always impeccably collected, logged and dated, her instructions clear, and her love of the forest came through her eyes even when she was in her worst moods. And what about Tom? They had been trying to figure a way to break him out of the brig before all this started, but of course that was on hold now... Was his avatar in there somewhere, in imminent danger of getting destroyed?
No, he would not have walked out of the room if he could; he would not turn away. Someone needed to be witness to this atrocity, and today that witness would be him. He only wished that Moira didn't have to see this. She was a sweet girl who had come to Pandora with stars in her eyes at the thought of exploring a brave new world. She shouldn't have to see that dream destroyed...not like this.
Ninat huddled in the singers' alcove and watched Ama' run through the chaos that was now their home. She'd forced the girl to go, and she was terrified she'd lingered too long, but strangely, Ninat didn't feel afraid for herself or Tom. At some place deep in her heart, she knew what she was doing was the right thing. She knew Eywa had some purpose for the twins, not just Tom but Jake as well, and even though this terrifying attack would likely bring Kelutral down around them, she knew in her heart that as long as she stayed here with him - with his empty body waiting for his soul to return - she would find her happiness at the end of it all.
It might be some time before that happiness came though. Right now, all she could feel was a sense of detachment. It was as though the events happening around her, the fumes and smoke and fire of the sawtute attack were not real, but part of some strange fever dream.
She coughed and shifted them, pulling them into the furthest part of the alcove where the air was not so tainted. They would wait here. She closed her eyes and cast her mind outward, trying to imagine that she could sense Tom nearby, that his soul was indeed in the body she cradled and was simply buried so deeply that it would take time and patience for him to wake.
She even managed to trick her mind into believing she could feel his arms around her, so she kept her eyes closed, treasuring the sensation until it could be real again.
Will Winram, navigation technician on the Dragon gunship, watched Quaritch pacing back and forth, his excitement clear, and something dark began to grow in his heart.
He'd always respected the Colonel, had believed the man to be the best possible person for an unpleasant and dangerous job, but as he watched the Na'vi below fight a valiant and futile battle in defence of their home, he began to wonder if he hadn't misunderstood the situation just a little. Yes, certainly the Na'vi had caused them problems in the past, and yes, they had killed the troop that had gone out with the dozers on this most recent foray, but at the same time...
Will couldn't help remembering his history lessons back in sixth form, the tales of the Battle of Britain that had eventually led to his own enlistment in the RAF as an idealistic young man, and how they said the Germans had come and come and come, dropping bombs on houses and churches...dropping bombs anywhere they liked to try to frighten the Britons into surrender. He was starting to feel distinctly like one of those Nazi Germans, and he didn't so bloody much like that feeling.
He glanced over to the prisoner, catching the man's eyes and seeing the deep anger and despair contained in them, although the rest of his face and posture radiated complete calm. He was a scientist, Will had been told, but something in the way he carried himself reminded Will of an SAS man he'd known in the forces, trained to kill a man fifteen different ways without him ever knowing what had happened. Yes, that scientist had some kind of self-defence training, he'd stake his last smuggled-in jar of Marmite on it.
He looked over at Quaritch again, then back to the prisoner, then to his instruments, and he made a decision he knew he would probably regret (but not in his soul). When the prisoner made his move, Will decided, he would do what he could to help.
Jake could feel the heat of the flames at his back as Hometree began to burn. He felt a flutter of echo that he knew was Tom's despair wherever he was, and he screamed in denial of what was happening before his eyes, of what was happening because of him...
He saw Neytiri running toward where he had last seen Eytukan, and she paused in front of them, her eyes meeting his. There was still so much anger there, and honestly, he knew he deserved it. He had betrayed every single one of them before he even really knew them, and even the inaccurate data he had provided hadn't prevented this. Nothing he had done could have prevented this, and the thought made him see red in anger.
And then Neytiri with her accusing, painful eyes was gone. She hadn't freed him, but then, he hadn't expected her to. It was no more than he deserved, to go down with the tree; he only hoped that she would get to safety now...that Eywa would spare her. Not that he totally believed in the Na'vi tree-goddess, but... But there was something here that had a power he had never imagined, and if he wanted to call it Eywa like they did, well, then that's what it was, and if he wanted to pray to it, to her, to beg her for a chance to make this right...
The hairs on the back of his neck prickled in warning as he felt someone move up behind them, the change in heat level from the fires burning unchecked behind him warning of another's presence.
"I should slice through your neck with this knife," he heard an angry voice hiss and felt the kiss of a blade. Neytiri! She had come back! He hadn't heard that tone from her since the very first night, when she accused him of being the cause of his own danger from the nantang pack, but her voice was still beloved to him, even when poisoned with anger, "but it would be too easy and fast a death for you. You will remain here, but Grace cannot be blamed for your treason."
He heard the snap of Grace's bonds being cut, and felt then slap against his cheek as she fell to the ground before catching herself. He tried to turn his head to look, but Neytiri had disappeared.
And now Mo'at approached, her face branded with tears and her expression showing more pain than Jake had ever imagined one face could show. Ah. Now the blow of grace would come. At least Grace might get out of this alive. He didn't want to think of yet another parental figure in his life suffering and dying on his account.
"If you are one of us," Mo'at said, holding the knife against his throat, "if you are toruk, then...save us!"
The rope snapped, and something inside Jake snapped as well. The fatalism which had taken over, so alien to his normal demeanour, was gone, and in its place the will to survive swelled and grew. Survive, get his loved-ones out alive, and then, when he knew they were safe, come back for revenge!
Dropping to a crouch he shook his arms out and then quickly began to herd the women to safety. He didn't have much time now, Quaritch would blow the columns at any moment, and when he did...
Jake wondered, briefly, what effect his misinformation might have on the inevitable felling of the tree, but really, that didn't matter right now. He had civilians to get to safety, and he had to find Neytiri. He had to find his mate.
Hovering in formation around the base of Hometree, Trudy flicked on her targeting computer and flipped up the safety, her thumb hovering over the button that would release her Baby's payload into the coordinates specified by the target program. She took in the chaos below, and her mind swirled in chaos almost as thick. It was... God, she didn't even have the words to describe it. She knew what they were doing - what she was doing, and she knew it probably better than any other person here - at least, any other person in the sec-ops side. She closed her eyes and all she could see was the time they had invited her in, how the weavers had welcomed her with open arms, how little, sweet, curious Laneya, Tsu'tey's little sister, had wanted to know everything about her. How old was Laneya anyway? Six? Seven? She couldn't be any older than that certainly, even if she was already as tall as Trudy. Was Laneya in there, her eyes streaming with tears from the gas rounds? Her lungs choked with smoke from the pillars of her home as they burned?
"You know this isn't right, little one," she heard the voice of her father from her memory. What was it she'd been doing to cause him to use such a cold tone with her? She couldn't quite remember but she thought it had something to do with... Oh yeah, that time he'd caught her using small birds for target practice with her bow. "You know that life is precious. Everything has its place, and if you kill only to prove that you can, what do you think the universe will think of you?"
She shook her head and opened her eyes again, but she didn't see the scene in front of her... all she could see was her own home, the people scattering were her family and friends, the defiant leader raising his bow to the gunships her father...
She hadn't been there when her father was killed, he had sent Trudy and her mother, Aliz, away before that happened, but what Aliz had never known was that Trudy had seen the footage, and although his death had been nothing like this, the razing of his camp had been...far too similar.
She shuddered, feeling sick to her stomach. "Screw this," she muttered as she flipped the safety back down over the innocuous little button that would have sent more missiles into the tree. There was nothing she could do now to prevent its fall, or even keep the people running for safety from being hurt or killed, but at least she could show her displeasure by not participating. She had a few special features built into her Baby for just such a horrible situation. She wouldn't be blamed for the "mechanical failure" that was about to occur.
"What the hell're you doing?" she heard her gunner, Wainfleet, call into her headphones. Ugh. The man was a plant and she knew it. She'd known it from the moment she met him, Quaritch's little rat. He'd been put on her crew after she busted the avatars out of the shot-up schoolhouse. Even though her reasoning for that had been approved by Selfridge, Quaritch had never quite trusted her after that little stunt, and set his own little golden boy to keep an eye on her.
"I didn't sign up for this shit," she swore back at him, and already in her mind she was making up an excuse for what she'd said. The "shit" she'd say she'd been referring to being the fact that her targeting computer had shorted out and her gyros gone offline, forcing her to make an immediate return to base.
She turned her nose toward home, ignoring the angry words coming over her radio, and just sent a short message: "Engine trouble, gotta bail."
The last thing she wanted to do was be there when the tree fell. She had seen it once before, with her own home, she didn't need to see it again to know the sickening pain would never go away. All she wanted now was to land, get rid of the cancerous waste of breath riding with her and find Norm so that when the inevitable nightmares came, she would have something to hold onto.
"And that's how you scatter the roaches," Quaritch nodded, the self-satisfaction in his voice finally too much for Tom.
"They are not. Roaches," Tom ground out. "Or monkeys. They are people. The most noble, selfless people I have ever known. They are good, in a way a 'roid-poisoned, shrunken-balled, dick-brain like yourself could never even begin to contemplate."
With a move much quicker than either of the men holding him had anticipated he pulled free of their grip, his body a swift, sure weapon even with his hands still tied behind his back. Mom had taught both Jake and him how to move, how to fight, from the time they could walk and almost before, and even though he hadn't had much need to use it in years, that sort of training never fully left a person. Krav Maga was said to be one of the strongest martial arts and also one of the dirtiest, rising from the cruel streets of the Jewish quarter in the nineteen-thirties and forties, and the sometimes even crueller conditions in Israel which had followed.
He couldn't get out of his cuffs and he knew it, so instead he used his feet, kicking out at any who tried to jump in and take him down, and he used his shoulders and upper body as a bludgeon, aiming for heads or lower, for the solar plexus. There weren't many troops on the gunship - there shouldn't be a need for them, after all. Four would have seemed to be more than enough to contain a "limp-dicked science puke", so it didn't take long for Tom to take them out, at least for long enough to get to Quaritch as the man turned to see what all the commotion was.
With a roar, Tom rushed him, using every bit of his body weight centered low in another blow aimed for the solar plexus. His hope was that he'd hit at the right angle to overbalance the bigger man and throw him over his shoulder where he could get in a good kick or two before he was taken down. It almost would have worked, too. He did get in a good blow, and another with his forehead to Quaritch's jaw as he straightened up, but the months spent overdoing it in link had weakened him more than he'd thought, and his speed wasn't enough to change the Colonel's balance like he'd hoped.
He grit his teeth hard not to scream as a hard chop to his elbow dislocated it, but the pain made him woozy and he stumbled as he tried to stay on his feet. He felt a pair of hands catch him, far more gently than he'd expected, and then he was helped to the ground.
"Go easy on him, sir," a voice with a ...British accent?... said, and he looked around, trying to figure out who was talking.
"Winram, you're putting yourself in for desk duty," Quaritch growled, and Tom blinked back the involuntary tears the pain in his arm was causing to look over at the man who'd caught him, silently thanking him...and then the Colonel's face was in his with a sneer.
"I see your cripple brother taught you a thing or two before he turned into a useless cripple," he said, "nice try, really, but a science puke is always a science puke, even when he's trying to be a hero."
"You think Jake..." Tom had to laugh at that, well aware he was on the edge of hysterics after everything the day had brought. "Naw, Jake and I might've both had the same skills but he didn't teach me. That move I just used on you? All Mom, all the way. Our mom was real kick-ass. You might've heard of her, actually. Miranda David, Marine Intelligence? She never took Da's last name, it's a family thing. The girls always kept their own name..."
The slightly confused and angry look on Quaritch's face only made this better. Especially the way his eyebrows were climbing in what had to be stunned shock.
"Yeah. Next time, do your research a little better," Tom laughed, "It's not like we hid it." Mom had been a legend among the Marines, even though she hadn't taken combat missions since before the twins were born. When you came from a line like hers, though, the respect was almost inborn, and the rumours of what she'd done in covert ops only reinforced that respect, even if most of it could never be proven.
With each explosion, Jake's inner turmoil grew. He needed to get to Neytiri, he needed to get her to safety, but he couldn't leave Grace and Mo'at. The ground shook and debris went flying, and he fought the greying at the edges of his consciousness, fought the PTSD triggers he thought he'd killed, the memories of the explosion that had taken out his spine, had crippled Meilin's shoulder, had sent shrapnel tearing through Davis's face, killing him instantly...
"Down!" he shouted, his hands going out to push their heads low enough to be sheltered by the log they were hiding behind. Pathetic shelter but he hadn't had time to find anything better, and something was better than nothing.
There was a pause then, as the shelling stopped. An eerie silence as the world hung in balance for an eternal moment...
And then, with a creak and a groan and a horrible tearing, splintering sound, the tree began to fall.
"Go!" Jake shouted, pulling the women to their feet and pushing them in front of him, "go go go!" He had to get them out of here! They weren't in the direct path of the main trunk, but Hometree was massive, and its canopy even more so. Those branches might look tiny in comparison to the trunk, but they were more than big enough to spear a person!
He glanced over his shoulder as they ran, watching the tree come down, watching...ah, good; he saw ikran and riders taking off from the falling treetop. At least they were out safely! And then he saw the consequences of his lies. With a shriek, Kelutral twisted as it fell, and with an almost casual grace, its wide, leafy canopy took out three Scorpions and a Sampson. A small retribution, not truly enough, but it was something. At least Quaritch would learn that you did not attack Pandora without her fighting back!
As the tree fell, sending up a rushing wave from the river which doused many of the flames which had eaten its base, the shock ran through the ground like the earthquakes which would signal an eruption of the far-off volcanoes, and Neytiri felt it not only in her bones, but in her soul as it was ripped from her chest. Her home was gone. It was gone, and it had taken countless numbers with it. She had seen them, running, screaming, and then their cries silenced forever as their home fell upon them, crushing them in an instant, giving them no chance to survive. And Ninat... Neytiri wished she hadn't listened to that strange urge; wished she had insisted like everyone else that her friend must escape.
This day had brought so much loss already; she didn't know how she could bear the thought of any more. She had to find her father! She hoped her mother had gotten out safely, but she knew her father had been heading back in, trying to get as many of the People to safety as he could, and now...
"Ma Sempul!" she cried out as she caught sight of his distinctive form lying prone on the ground. She fell to her knees at his side, reaching out to help him up - surely he was simply stunned from the explosions, had lost his balance as the ground shook and was only slow to get to his feet again - but then she saw it. A piece of wood as thick as her arm pierced him through the belly, and although she might try to tell herself that it could be fixed, that they could bring a healer and get the impaling...thing...out of him, in her heart she knew better.
"Ma 'ite," he gasped, reaching up to her, and she tried to look strong for him, she tried not to let him see how her heart was dying within her. "Take my bow," he pressed it into her hand, "protect the people..." And then his hand fell away, and she knew he was gone.
She wailed helplessly as she clutched the bow to her breast, as if it could take the place of everything she had lost this day, as if it could send an arrow straight to the heart of each of those who had caused this hurt. She closed her eyes against the tears that came, and tried to imagine drawing back the bow, taking aim as she had that first time she'd seen...him. If only she'd taken that shot none of this would have happened! If she'd just taken that shot, if the atokirina' had not stopped her...
But it had, and she wondered if Eywa was somehow sickened by the presence of the sawtute to such a degree that she was sending portents that were against the balance.
She thought she heard him, then, his voice saying her name in that impossible way of his. 'What is his problem with "r"s anyway?' she thought to herself in a completely irrelevant and automatic way that she hated herself for seconds later. She shouldn't care anymore; he had betrayed all of them!
"Neytiri," he said softly, his hand going to rub her shoulder, and she spun on him angrily.
"Go away!" she screamed. She didn't want him near, didn't want him to see her grief and vulnerability...didn't want to give in to the traitorous urge that lived deep inside of her that told her to let him close, to bury her face in his chest and let him comfort her. She didn't deserve comfort. She had betrayed her people even more than he had. He, at least, had an excuse, but she... "Go away!" she pulled away from him, slapping his arm harshly before returning to kneel next to her father's body, holding it and keening with pure loss, not only of him, but of everything she had ever known.
Finally unable to stand watching even one more second of the horrible vision being plastered across the screen - the fall of the tree, the fire, and the tiny, panicked blue figures scurrying like ants...or not moving any longer - Moira whimpered and pressed her face into Dolan's shoulder. He just continued to stare grimly ahead, resisting the urge to stroke her hair soothingly. They had an audience, after all, to whom he did not want to show any weakness right now. Instead he very subtly leaned against her and bit the insides of his cheeks, knowing the horror he was seeing was being recorded into the hidden files on his computer. It was just the sort of thing that, when sent to the UN council and played across co-opted display screens all over the world, would start an outrage among the general public. Especially if he could dig up some stock footage of the early 21st century Twin Towers and their fall to play alongside it. Sure, it was an event over a hundred and fifty years before, but there were still re-creationists out there who did re-enactments of that and other "turning points of history" and it was still a major part of the history every child learned in school. The parallels should be easy enough for even the most ignorant to draw.
He heard Moira gasp at the same moment he heard Selfridge (the little slime) calmly say "pull the plug." and his hands fisted with suppressed rage.
"No!" Moira protested, galvanized into action, "you can't do that!"
"You can't interrupt a link in progress!" Norm Spellman cried out as well, rushing the security personnel and even managing to take one of them out with a wild right hook before being cuffed to the rail.
"I'm sorry Neytiri," Jake pleaded with her, refusing to leave as she had screamed for him to do, "I'm sorry. Please...!" It wasn't safe for her to stay here, but he knew he couldn't make her move. Not before she was ready; not before she was done pouring out her grief over the death of her father...
She looked up at him again, but she didn't push him away this time, at least, not physically, but there was so much pain in her eyes... He wanted to take her in his arms, to rock her against him until all that pain went away, but he had the feeling she wouldn't let him, not until he gave her good reason to, and besides that, he was on borrowed time and he knew it.
"Listen," he said, "they won't let me stay here much longer, they'll take me soon, like they did before, and if you leave my body here to rot it'd be no more than I deserve, but know this: I will find a way to make this right," he said firmly, "I will find a way to make right what I've done wrong, and I will find you again when I am worthy of you."
She still didn't speak, but he saw something in her eyes that said to him that she had understood, that somehow the connection between them that had begun in the grove of the Tree of Voices had not ended when their queues detached from one another but still existed in some kind of invisible string that bound them together, whether she liked the idea or not.
"I should not believe you," she whispered finally, and he felt hope begin to flutter in his chest...and then that flutter was taken over by the detached feeling of having his link summarily shut off, and he woke to chaos and rough hands that hefted him into a fireman's carry.
"I should not believe you, but somehow, I do," Neytiri whispered as she turned to look back at the fallen tree - their fallen home - where she had left him. She had moved him a little but it had seemed wrong, and not only because of his betrayal. Those feelings, the signs Eywa brought to her, had told her that his destiny lay with the corpse of Kelutral and that if he was true to his word, as she had always thought he was, that he would make good on his promise. Although she did not see how that would be possible.
She felt her mother's hand on her shoulder and turned, her father's bow - her bow - heavy in her hand as they walked. To the forest house first, for the children, and then on to the only place they could go...to Vitrautral.
Well... That was...harder than I'd thought it would be, and I knew it would be hard. I'll continue to push through though, because I know that eventually the hard parts will be something to triumph over, and I look forward to the bittersweet moments in between as well. All is not lost, even though they might feel that way right now, and we all know that, as the Na'vi say, Eywa will provide.
There was something I wanted to make a note about...oh yes, Krav Maga. I'm curious to know if anyone realizes what this means for the background of our boys in my worldview! Did you all enjoy getting to see Tom kick Quaritch's ass, at least a little? I know I did. That part made writing everything else in this chapter worth it.
And now on to Vocab...
'ite - daughter
uniltìrantokx - dreamwalker body, empty avatar
-tsyìp - little, affectionate addition to a name
Kehe - No
sawtute - humans
uniltìranyu - dreamwalker, avatar
pa'li - direhorse
ikran - banshee
Eywa ngahu - proper way to say "goodbye" from "May Eywa be with you"
toruk - Biiig red birdie
Kelutral - Hometree
nantang - viperwolf
Sempul - Father
atokirina' - seeds of the sacred tree, messengers of Eywa
Vitrautral - the Tree of Souls, the sacred tree
Brace yourselves
I meant to have this out a few days earlier but I got stuck a bit and...oh gods this was hard to write! I had to watch certain scenes over and over a couple times, just heart-rending stuff!
I'm ploughing along on my NaNo although I'm a little behind, but once I have enough of any of the sections of it ready to go it'll be posted up here, because I know you'll all enjoy it. It's called "Histories" and it's full of background information on the families of some of our favourite characters here in Brotherhood!
Anyway, here we go. I recommend tissues for those who tend to shed a tear easily.
Brotherhood Chapter 30: If a Tree Falls
Even as Grace and Jake were being taken away and bound, Antsu and Cathy were already on the move, speaking with mothers and telling them how to get to the forest house, organizing the older children into groups to guide the smaller ones. They tried not to alarm anyone too much, tried to present it to the children as an adventure, but the inevitable worry and fear was already spreading.
Once the evacuation of the children was well underway, they and Kxawn'e and Tìyana headed for the singers' alcove to try to talk to Ninat. She should leave also, and they should take Tom's avatar out of there with her. Cathy was worried that if he hadn't linked up again he must be being held somewhere in Hell's Gate, and he would want to be sure it was safe even if he couldn't do anything about it himself. And he would want to know Ninat was safe also. If he had any idea what was going on (and she wasn't sure he did, if he was locked up somewhere) he must be absolutely frantic with worry for her.
When Ninat saw them come into the alcove, she immediately curled up tightly around Tom's body again. "I will not leave him!" she said quickly, before they could even say anything.
"Ma 'ite," Tìyana knelt next to her, "you need to move somewhere safe. We will move his uniltìrantokx also, I promise."
"No!" she hissed, clutching at him tighter, "we must not move!"
Tìyana looked over at her mate, confusion in her eyes, "But Ni-tsyìp," she said soothingly, "if we move his body then you will not be leaving it."
"Kehe," she whimpered, "we cannot leave here!"
The fuss she was making had attracted attention, and Neytiri slipped in next to them, "What troubles you so, Ninat?" she asked, "What difference does it make where he wakes up?" Of course, she thought it very likely that he wouldn't wake up, that he had either abandoned them completely in betrayal, the way Jake had... But that didn't seem right. He had been so attentive...
She wasn't sure anymore which twin she was thinking about, and to whom the attention she was thinking of had been paid, but she still couldn't bring herself not to be furious at Jake for everything he hadn't said. She shook her head and tried to focus again on the problem at hand, which was finding a way to calm Ninat enough to get her to move to safety.
She closed her eyes for a moment to try to think of a strategy, but when she did, she became immediately aware of the air within the alcove, and the thick, heavy weight of Eywa's will which hovered over everything within. She sighed and stood, taking Kxawn'e and Tìyana's hands in hers. "It is Eywa's will," she said quietly, "it is a test of her determination and his, and we cannot interfere. She is not in immediate danger here, but if we move them it could be a disaster. It is hard..." she could feel tears begin to trickle from her eyes at the thought of abandoning her closest friend since childhood. She took another deep breath and started again, "It is hard, but this is how it must be."
Ninat's parents' eyes met her own, tears in both of them, but they nodded.
"Then we will comfort her as best we can, and when the time comes, we will let Eywa's will protect her," Kxawn'e said, "It will not be easy, but if it will be more danger for her if she is moved, then we will do what we must."
Neytiri nodded and quickly took her leave, letting the two of them settle down next to Ninat, who had relaxed slightly, although she didn't move from her position curled up around the one who should, by all rights, be her mate. The Great Mother had set her friend a hard trial, and Neytiri did not envy it of her. Even if her own trial was currently tugging at her heart as though it would turn her inside out.
For a brief moment when he'd told Mo'at and the crowd of angry Omatikaya his spirit animal, Jake had thought perhaps they would be set free, that they would be listened to, but Mo'at's thoughtful frown had turned into a decisive nod, and she'd turned to the people holding his arms behind his back. "Bind them," she'd said, "but not too tightly, and do not menace them in any way. They are being tested by Eywa, and we must not interfere. When they are free, it will show that their test has been passed."
Which was really un-helpful, given that their hands were bound behind their heads with really strong cord. He wanted them all to get out of there, he knew the choppers would be coming soon, but more than anything he wanted Neytiri to get out of there, and damnit she wasn't going! He could see her standing nearby, with her bow in one hand, her other hand lifted to her forehead to see what would be coming over the horizon, and all he wanted was to see her safe! He growled in frustration and tugged at the bindings again. Damnit he didn't care at this point if he was stuck still here when the tree fell, if it fell on him it would only be poetic justice...because Neytiri had been right. Even if he hadn't meant to, even if he'd tried not to, he had betrayed their trust.
Damn Quaritch and his skewed human viewpoint, and damn Selfridge and his obsession with progress... They didn't understand at all, they just couldn't See!
Ninat growled to herself as she heard someone sit down near her. Was she going to have to go through this again? She turned to look and saw Ama', one of the young singers in training. The girl set down some food and gourds filled with water and smiled at her.
"I came to keep you company for a little while," the girl explained, "I know you must stay, but I thought you must be lonely since your...your mate is injured and can't comfort you, and...and Tom is my friend also," she added, "I wanted to see you both before I go to the forest house with your parents and the rest of the singers."
"Alright," Ninat sighed in relief and shifted her position, sitting up and resting Tom's head on her lap, "it will be nice to have company for a little while, but you mustn't stay too long. I'm the one being tested by Eywa; you should get yourself to safety while you can. You will have a mate someday as well, and you should be sure to keep yourself safe for him, so he has something to fight for."
"Okay," Ama' nodded and blushed. "You are right, I...must make sure to keep myself safe so he will have something to fight for when the sawtute come."
Ninat smiled a little at that. Clearly, Ama' already had someone she had her eye on. She'd have to ask the girl more later, when it wouldn't worry her by encouraging her to think of how he might be hurt in the upcoming conflict.
In the biolab, Bailey was typing quickly and as calmly as he could. He didn't want his actions to seem like anything other than regular backing up of data since they had been told all scientific operations were being shut down indefinitely. In actuality he was initiating a program he'd put in place days ago. He and Dolan had designed it with just this kind of eventuality in mind. I would take all the live feeds from all the Sampsons, Scorpions and the Dragon which fed back to Hell's Gate and would copy them and store them in a secure, encrypted server under false file names. If this was going to be a messy situation - and, Bailey sighed to himself, it already was and was only getting worse - it would be of great benefit to all of the group of scientists working from within to have an independent record so that when the time came, they could reveal the truth to the world - to their home world - without having to rely on the no-doubt tainted and biased reports the RDA head honchos were receiving and spreading among the world news media.
As the children headed off in a long trouping line toward the forest house, Pämeya watched, her own two children held close at her side. Her mate, Tun'ut, was planning to go along with them as a healer, but she...she had a different mission.
"Are you sure of this?" Tun'ut asked, "I know you worry for your charge, but there will be those here who will need your healing hands as well."
"Yes, there will be," she sighed and leaned against him, "but she will need it more. I know my duty, Tun'ut, and it is to safeguard this woman. She is a stepdaughter of the tribe now, as I once was, and with what has happened to the tree of voices, Ka'tsi told me she is unwell."
He nodded. He was a healer too; he understood the need to safeguard a patient, to go to them when they were ill, especially for one of the midwives, whose connection to their patients was so much more intimate. "At least I will know you are safe among the uniltìranyu," he said, "and our children safe with you. Come back to me as soon as you have made sure she is well."
"I will," Pämeya kissed him and leaned her forehead against his, "and you must keep yourself safe until I return." Without any further words she mounted up on her pa'li, taking the lead ropes of the other two she was bringing with her in case they needed to move Luuisì to somewhere she could be better cared for, and then caught each child as her mate passed them up to her, little Maya tucking herself into the baby carrier that was really too small now, and Kenet clinging on behind her.
She turned them away from Kelutral and toward the place of the dreamwalkers and urged her mount forward, with good speed but not so fast that her son behind her would be jarred.
"Are you sure you don't want me to stay?" Kxawn'e asked his childhood companion, "I am just as willing to protect our home as you are, you know."
"No, old friend," Eytukan shook his head, "when it comes down to it, I am still merely a warrior, although perhaps slightly older than I once was. You will protect our home in a different way, by protecting yourself and the wealth of songs that you carry within you. The loss of one warrior, or even many, is little compared to the loss of the songs of our People."
Kxawn'e nodded. "You are far more wise than you let people see," he said, "Be safe, old friend, and I will see you when this trouble is over, and...please keep my daughter safe."
"I will see you then," Eytukan agreed, "and I will do my best to keep her safe." He frowned as he watched Kxawn'e hurry away. There was one more important thing he had to do before he moved to where the sawtute would be attacking from, the side of Kelutral which faced the river, where their flying machines would have room to manoeuvre. A messenger had arrived by ikran from the Aunrai clan, investigating the echoes of destruction which had rippled through all of Eywa's children that morning
"You have seen what the sawtute machines have done," Eytukan said to him, "and our preparations for the coming attack. It would likely be best if you were to return now, before the sawtute flying machines come close enough that they might see you. I would not wish you to put yourself in harm's way; it is more important by far that you carry what you have seen back to your own clan, so that others will know what is happening here."
"I will do so," the warrior nodded. "I will take my leave now, and may Eywa watch over you and your people."
"Eywa ngahu," Eytukan nodded in return, watching the man jog off.
As they came down the winding pathway of the river, Tom kept his breathing steady. He didn't want to let the enemy know how frantic with worry this whole situation was making him. He wanted to make sure they continued to underestimate him so that when his chance came he could escape.
"That is one big damned tree," Quaritch breathed as the choppers moved into position. His fingers moved on a screen in front of the pilot, magnifying the scene below, and he chuckled. "Bring him over here," he told the sec-ops grunts who were holding Tom's arms, "there's something he oughtta see."
Tom didn't fight as he was pulled roughly forward and his face shoved down so that he had to look at the screen. Jake and Grace were tied up to some sort of framework - he thought it looked like one of the half-made looms, actually - and they were both screaming something and struggling to get free.
"It looks like diplomacy has failed," Quaritch said with a grin, "but that's what they get for trying to betray their own kind. I'd be more'n happy to see you share their fate, but I need someone to be an example and put on trial when you get sent home," he shrugged.
"You're wrong, you know," Tom said calmly. "I won't be going back to Earth, and I won't be put on trial. The RDA'd never risk the bad press from what you're about to do."
"Oh but this is fully sanctioned by the company," Quaritch said with a falsely innocent expression that made Tom want to puke. "Take him back where he can get a good view out the window but be out of the way," he ordered the men. "This'll be a good dose of reality."
Tom could see the people, mounted on pa'li or running, moving around beneath the gunship, and his gaze searched the horizon, trying to see within the roots of Kelutral, trying to see how many were still in there. He hoped and prayed that Jake, Grace and Cathy had at least been able to persuade them to get the children to safety somewhere, and the non-combatants. God, Eywa, whoever it was that listened to these sorts of things; he prayed Ninat was not in there. 'Even if you take my avatar as punishment for my not moving quickly enough to speak of my concerns to Eytukan,' he prayed more seriously than he ever had before in his sceptical life, 'just please, please make sure she stays safe. If she dies my life isn't worth living beyond revenge.'
It was the sort of sentiment that he would have thought stupid and fatalistic even three months ago, but now...Now everything had changed. He had no regrets though, not about his choices. The only thing he truly regretted was that he hadn't listened to her when she begged him to stay. He wished they could have had at least that one time together, that one night of peaceful bliss before the world came crashing down.
When the first gas rounds delivered their noxious contents into the roots of Hometree, Mo'at was startled, even though she had been expecting some kind of attack. The fumes burned her eyes and choked her throat, but all she could think of was making sure the children got out. She hurried from group to group of those who still remained, directing them through the clouds of bitter gas toward the path to the uniltìranyu forest house. She would not run herself, though, at least, not yet. She would not abandon her home, her mate and her people so quickly, and...
And there was still Jhake and Grace to deal with. Their trial had only begun, and she needed to be witness to their actions, to see what Eywa had hinted at when she sent toruk to Jhake. When the toruk people began to emerge, it had always been a sign that a time of great sorrow approached, which, to Mo'at, meant that this attack, horrible, impossible as it was to take in, was only the beginning. There would be worse to come before they were saved, and if the uniltìranyu had any part to play, then she must guide them in it.
The first explosive rounds hit the outer supports of Kelutral and the reverberations sent Mo'at tumbling to the ground but she got to her feet again, tears streaming down her face from the gas, from the destruction and desperation surrounding her, from the thought of all the confusion her sole remaining child must be feeling at this moment, torn between the People she loved and the mate she had chosen only the night before...
Mo'at made no attempt to wipe her eyes as she emerged through the flames and smoke to the open space where their "traitors" had been bound.
Somehow, he wasn't quite sure how, Dolan and Moira had ended up among those who were in the link room when Grace and Jake went into link, and, being there, the sec-ops presence had made sure that they had to stay there, they couldn't leave. And even if they could have, Dolan likely would not have. His eyes were trained on the monitors, their streaming feed of the attack on Hometree surrounding them like some sort of movie, but, he kept reminding himself, this was no movie, this was no newsreel from some distant place and time that he was only tangentially connected to, this was visceral and real, and two people he knew were there (in their other bodies perhaps, but still, they were there!) He had never really interacted with Jake Sully, the man had only been in Hell's Gate itself a few times since his arrival, but Dolan respected Grace. Her samples were always impeccably collected, logged and dated, her instructions clear, and her love of the forest came through her eyes even when she was in her worst moods. And what about Tom? They had been trying to figure a way to break him out of the brig before all this started, but of course that was on hold now... Was his avatar in there somewhere, in imminent danger of getting destroyed?
No, he would not have walked out of the room if he could; he would not turn away. Someone needed to be witness to this atrocity, and today that witness would be him. He only wished that Moira didn't have to see this. She was a sweet girl who had come to Pandora with stars in her eyes at the thought of exploring a brave new world. She shouldn't have to see that dream destroyed...not like this.
Ninat huddled in the singers' alcove and watched Ama' run through the chaos that was now their home. She'd forced the girl to go, and she was terrified she'd lingered too long, but strangely, Ninat didn't feel afraid for herself or Tom. At some place deep in her heart, she knew what she was doing was the right thing. She knew Eywa had some purpose for the twins, not just Tom but Jake as well, and even though this terrifying attack would likely bring Kelutral down around them, she knew in her heart that as long as she stayed here with him - with his empty body waiting for his soul to return - she would find her happiness at the end of it all.
It might be some time before that happiness came though. Right now, all she could feel was a sense of detachment. It was as though the events happening around her, the fumes and smoke and fire of the sawtute attack were not real, but part of some strange fever dream.
She coughed and shifted them, pulling them into the furthest part of the alcove where the air was not so tainted. They would wait here. She closed her eyes and cast her mind outward, trying to imagine that she could sense Tom nearby, that his soul was indeed in the body she cradled and was simply buried so deeply that it would take time and patience for him to wake.
She even managed to trick her mind into believing she could feel his arms around her, so she kept her eyes closed, treasuring the sensation until it could be real again.
Will Winram, navigation technician on the Dragon gunship, watched Quaritch pacing back and forth, his excitement clear, and something dark began to grow in his heart.
He'd always respected the Colonel, had believed the man to be the best possible person for an unpleasant and dangerous job, but as he watched the Na'vi below fight a valiant and futile battle in defence of their home, he began to wonder if he hadn't misunderstood the situation just a little. Yes, certainly the Na'vi had caused them problems in the past, and yes, they had killed the troop that had gone out with the dozers on this most recent foray, but at the same time...
Will couldn't help remembering his history lessons back in sixth form, the tales of the Battle of Britain that had eventually led to his own enlistment in the RAF as an idealistic young man, and how they said the Germans had come and come and come, dropping bombs on houses and churches...dropping bombs anywhere they liked to try to frighten the Britons into surrender. He was starting to feel distinctly like one of those Nazi Germans, and he didn't so bloody much like that feeling.
He glanced over to the prisoner, catching the man's eyes and seeing the deep anger and despair contained in them, although the rest of his face and posture radiated complete calm. He was a scientist, Will had been told, but something in the way he carried himself reminded Will of an SAS man he'd known in the forces, trained to kill a man fifteen different ways without him ever knowing what had happened. Yes, that scientist had some kind of self-defence training, he'd stake his last smuggled-in jar of Marmite on it.
He looked over at Quaritch again, then back to the prisoner, then to his instruments, and he made a decision he knew he would probably regret (but not in his soul). When the prisoner made his move, Will decided, he would do what he could to help.
Jake could feel the heat of the flames at his back as Hometree began to burn. He felt a flutter of echo that he knew was Tom's despair wherever he was, and he screamed in denial of what was happening before his eyes, of what was happening because of him...
He saw Neytiri running toward where he had last seen Eytukan, and she paused in front of them, her eyes meeting his. There was still so much anger there, and honestly, he knew he deserved it. He had betrayed every single one of them before he even really knew them, and even the inaccurate data he had provided hadn't prevented this. Nothing he had done could have prevented this, and the thought made him see red in anger.
And then Neytiri with her accusing, painful eyes was gone. She hadn't freed him, but then, he hadn't expected her to. It was no more than he deserved, to go down with the tree; he only hoped that she would get to safety now...that Eywa would spare her. Not that he totally believed in the Na'vi tree-goddess, but... But there was something here that had a power he had never imagined, and if he wanted to call it Eywa like they did, well, then that's what it was, and if he wanted to pray to it, to her, to beg her for a chance to make this right...
The hairs on the back of his neck prickled in warning as he felt someone move up behind them, the change in heat level from the fires burning unchecked behind him warning of another's presence.
"I should slice through your neck with this knife," he heard an angry voice hiss and felt the kiss of a blade. Neytiri! She had come back! He hadn't heard that tone from her since the very first night, when she accused him of being the cause of his own danger from the nantang pack, but her voice was still beloved to him, even when poisoned with anger, "but it would be too easy and fast a death for you. You will remain here, but Grace cannot be blamed for your treason."
He heard the snap of Grace's bonds being cut, and felt then slap against his cheek as she fell to the ground before catching herself. He tried to turn his head to look, but Neytiri had disappeared.
And now Mo'at approached, her face branded with tears and her expression showing more pain than Jake had ever imagined one face could show. Ah. Now the blow of grace would come. At least Grace might get out of this alive. He didn't want to think of yet another parental figure in his life suffering and dying on his account.
"If you are one of us," Mo'at said, holding the knife against his throat, "if you are toruk, then...save us!"
The rope snapped, and something inside Jake snapped as well. The fatalism which had taken over, so alien to his normal demeanour, was gone, and in its place the will to survive swelled and grew. Survive, get his loved-ones out alive, and then, when he knew they were safe, come back for revenge!
Dropping to a crouch he shook his arms out and then quickly began to herd the women to safety. He didn't have much time now, Quaritch would blow the columns at any moment, and when he did...
Jake wondered, briefly, what effect his misinformation might have on the inevitable felling of the tree, but really, that didn't matter right now. He had civilians to get to safety, and he had to find Neytiri. He had to find his mate.
Hovering in formation around the base of Hometree, Trudy flicked on her targeting computer and flipped up the safety, her thumb hovering over the button that would release her Baby's payload into the coordinates specified by the target program. She took in the chaos below, and her mind swirled in chaos almost as thick. It was... God, she didn't even have the words to describe it. She knew what they were doing - what she was doing, and she knew it probably better than any other person here - at least, any other person in the sec-ops side. She closed her eyes and all she could see was the time they had invited her in, how the weavers had welcomed her with open arms, how little, sweet, curious Laneya, Tsu'tey's little sister, had wanted to know everything about her. How old was Laneya anyway? Six? Seven? She couldn't be any older than that certainly, even if she was already as tall as Trudy. Was Laneya in there, her eyes streaming with tears from the gas rounds? Her lungs choked with smoke from the pillars of her home as they burned?
"You know this isn't right, little one," she heard the voice of her father from her memory. What was it she'd been doing to cause him to use such a cold tone with her? She couldn't quite remember but she thought it had something to do with... Oh yeah, that time he'd caught her using small birds for target practice with her bow. "You know that life is precious. Everything has its place, and if you kill only to prove that you can, what do you think the universe will think of you?"
She shook her head and opened her eyes again, but she didn't see the scene in front of her... all she could see was her own home, the people scattering were her family and friends, the defiant leader raising his bow to the gunships her father...
She hadn't been there when her father was killed, he had sent Trudy and her mother, Aliz, away before that happened, but what Aliz had never known was that Trudy had seen the footage, and although his death had been nothing like this, the razing of his camp had been...far too similar.
She shuddered, feeling sick to her stomach. "Screw this," she muttered as she flipped the safety back down over the innocuous little button that would have sent more missiles into the tree. There was nothing she could do now to prevent its fall, or even keep the people running for safety from being hurt or killed, but at least she could show her displeasure by not participating. She had a few special features built into her Baby for just such a horrible situation. She wouldn't be blamed for the "mechanical failure" that was about to occur.
"What the hell're you doing?" she heard her gunner, Wainfleet, call into her headphones. Ugh. The man was a plant and she knew it. She'd known it from the moment she met him, Quaritch's little rat. He'd been put on her crew after she busted the avatars out of the shot-up schoolhouse. Even though her reasoning for that had been approved by Selfridge, Quaritch had never quite trusted her after that little stunt, and set his own little golden boy to keep an eye on her.
"I didn't sign up for this shit," she swore back at him, and already in her mind she was making up an excuse for what she'd said. The "shit" she'd say she'd been referring to being the fact that her targeting computer had shorted out and her gyros gone offline, forcing her to make an immediate return to base.
She turned her nose toward home, ignoring the angry words coming over her radio, and just sent a short message: "Engine trouble, gotta bail."
The last thing she wanted to do was be there when the tree fell. She had seen it once before, with her own home, she didn't need to see it again to know the sickening pain would never go away. All she wanted now was to land, get rid of the cancerous waste of breath riding with her and find Norm so that when the inevitable nightmares came, she would have something to hold onto.
"And that's how you scatter the roaches," Quaritch nodded, the self-satisfaction in his voice finally too much for Tom.
"They are not. Roaches," Tom ground out. "Or monkeys. They are people. The most noble, selfless people I have ever known. They are good, in a way a 'roid-poisoned, shrunken-balled, dick-brain like yourself could never even begin to contemplate."
With a move much quicker than either of the men holding him had anticipated he pulled free of their grip, his body a swift, sure weapon even with his hands still tied behind his back. Mom had taught both Jake and him how to move, how to fight, from the time they could walk and almost before, and even though he hadn't had much need to use it in years, that sort of training never fully left a person. Krav Maga was said to be one of the strongest martial arts and also one of the dirtiest, rising from the cruel streets of the Jewish quarter in the nineteen-thirties and forties, and the sometimes even crueller conditions in Israel which had followed.
He couldn't get out of his cuffs and he knew it, so instead he used his feet, kicking out at any who tried to jump in and take him down, and he used his shoulders and upper body as a bludgeon, aiming for heads or lower, for the solar plexus. There weren't many troops on the gunship - there shouldn't be a need for them, after all. Four would have seemed to be more than enough to contain a "limp-dicked science puke", so it didn't take long for Tom to take them out, at least for long enough to get to Quaritch as the man turned to see what all the commotion was.
With a roar, Tom rushed him, using every bit of his body weight centered low in another blow aimed for the solar plexus. His hope was that he'd hit at the right angle to overbalance the bigger man and throw him over his shoulder where he could get in a good kick or two before he was taken down. It almost would have worked, too. He did get in a good blow, and another with his forehead to Quaritch's jaw as he straightened up, but the months spent overdoing it in link had weakened him more than he'd thought, and his speed wasn't enough to change the Colonel's balance like he'd hoped.
He grit his teeth hard not to scream as a hard chop to his elbow dislocated it, but the pain made him woozy and he stumbled as he tried to stay on his feet. He felt a pair of hands catch him, far more gently than he'd expected, and then he was helped to the ground.
"Go easy on him, sir," a voice with a ...British accent?... said, and he looked around, trying to figure out who was talking.
"Winram, you're putting yourself in for desk duty," Quaritch growled, and Tom blinked back the involuntary tears the pain in his arm was causing to look over at the man who'd caught him, silently thanking him...and then the Colonel's face was in his with a sneer.
"I see your cripple brother taught you a thing or two before he turned into a useless cripple," he said, "nice try, really, but a science puke is always a science puke, even when he's trying to be a hero."
"You think Jake..." Tom had to laugh at that, well aware he was on the edge of hysterics after everything the day had brought. "Naw, Jake and I might've both had the same skills but he didn't teach me. That move I just used on you? All Mom, all the way. Our mom was real kick-ass. You might've heard of her, actually. Miranda David, Marine Intelligence? She never took Da's last name, it's a family thing. The girls always kept their own name..."
The slightly confused and angry look on Quaritch's face only made this better. Especially the way his eyebrows were climbing in what had to be stunned shock.
"Yeah. Next time, do your research a little better," Tom laughed, "It's not like we hid it." Mom had been a legend among the Marines, even though she hadn't taken combat missions since before the twins were born. When you came from a line like hers, though, the respect was almost inborn, and the rumours of what she'd done in covert ops only reinforced that respect, even if most of it could never be proven.
With each explosion, Jake's inner turmoil grew. He needed to get to Neytiri, he needed to get her to safety, but he couldn't leave Grace and Mo'at. The ground shook and debris went flying, and he fought the greying at the edges of his consciousness, fought the PTSD triggers he thought he'd killed, the memories of the explosion that had taken out his spine, had crippled Meilin's shoulder, had sent shrapnel tearing through Davis's face, killing him instantly...
"Down!" he shouted, his hands going out to push their heads low enough to be sheltered by the log they were hiding behind. Pathetic shelter but he hadn't had time to find anything better, and something was better than nothing.
There was a pause then, as the shelling stopped. An eerie silence as the world hung in balance for an eternal moment...
And then, with a creak and a groan and a horrible tearing, splintering sound, the tree began to fall.
"Go!" Jake shouted, pulling the women to their feet and pushing them in front of him, "go go go!" He had to get them out of here! They weren't in the direct path of the main trunk, but Hometree was massive, and its canopy even more so. Those branches might look tiny in comparison to the trunk, but they were more than big enough to spear a person!
He glanced over his shoulder as they ran, watching the tree come down, watching...ah, good; he saw ikran and riders taking off from the falling treetop. At least they were out safely! And then he saw the consequences of his lies. With a shriek, Kelutral twisted as it fell, and with an almost casual grace, its wide, leafy canopy took out three Scorpions and a Sampson. A small retribution, not truly enough, but it was something. At least Quaritch would learn that you did not attack Pandora without her fighting back!
As the tree fell, sending up a rushing wave from the river which doused many of the flames which had eaten its base, the shock ran through the ground like the earthquakes which would signal an eruption of the far-off volcanoes, and Neytiri felt it not only in her bones, but in her soul as it was ripped from her chest. Her home was gone. It was gone, and it had taken countless numbers with it. She had seen them, running, screaming, and then their cries silenced forever as their home fell upon them, crushing them in an instant, giving them no chance to survive. And Ninat... Neytiri wished she hadn't listened to that strange urge; wished she had insisted like everyone else that her friend must escape.
This day had brought so much loss already; she didn't know how she could bear the thought of any more. She had to find her father! She hoped her mother had gotten out safely, but she knew her father had been heading back in, trying to get as many of the People to safety as he could, and now...
"Ma Sempul!" she cried out as she caught sight of his distinctive form lying prone on the ground. She fell to her knees at his side, reaching out to help him up - surely he was simply stunned from the explosions, had lost his balance as the ground shook and was only slow to get to his feet again - but then she saw it. A piece of wood as thick as her arm pierced him through the belly, and although she might try to tell herself that it could be fixed, that they could bring a healer and get the impaling...thing...out of him, in her heart she knew better.
"Ma 'ite," he gasped, reaching up to her, and she tried to look strong for him, she tried not to let him see how her heart was dying within her. "Take my bow," he pressed it into her hand, "protect the people..." And then his hand fell away, and she knew he was gone.
She wailed helplessly as she clutched the bow to her breast, as if it could take the place of everything she had lost this day, as if it could send an arrow straight to the heart of each of those who had caused this hurt. She closed her eyes against the tears that came, and tried to imagine drawing back the bow, taking aim as she had that first time she'd seen...him. If only she'd taken that shot none of this would have happened! If she'd just taken that shot, if the atokirina' had not stopped her...
But it had, and she wondered if Eywa was somehow sickened by the presence of the sawtute to such a degree that she was sending portents that were against the balance.
She thought she heard him, then, his voice saying her name in that impossible way of his. 'What is his problem with "r"s anyway?' she thought to herself in a completely irrelevant and automatic way that she hated herself for seconds later. She shouldn't care anymore; he had betrayed all of them!
"Neytiri," he said softly, his hand going to rub her shoulder, and she spun on him angrily.
"Go away!" she screamed. She didn't want him near, didn't want him to see her grief and vulnerability...didn't want to give in to the traitorous urge that lived deep inside of her that told her to let him close, to bury her face in his chest and let him comfort her. She didn't deserve comfort. She had betrayed her people even more than he had. He, at least, had an excuse, but she... "Go away!" she pulled away from him, slapping his arm harshly before returning to kneel next to her father's body, holding it and keening with pure loss, not only of him, but of everything she had ever known.
Finally unable to stand watching even one more second of the horrible vision being plastered across the screen - the fall of the tree, the fire, and the tiny, panicked blue figures scurrying like ants...or not moving any longer - Moira whimpered and pressed her face into Dolan's shoulder. He just continued to stare grimly ahead, resisting the urge to stroke her hair soothingly. They had an audience, after all, to whom he did not want to show any weakness right now. Instead he very subtly leaned against her and bit the insides of his cheeks, knowing the horror he was seeing was being recorded into the hidden files on his computer. It was just the sort of thing that, when sent to the UN council and played across co-opted display screens all over the world, would start an outrage among the general public. Especially if he could dig up some stock footage of the early 21st century Twin Towers and their fall to play alongside it. Sure, it was an event over a hundred and fifty years before, but there were still re-creationists out there who did re-enactments of that and other "turning points of history" and it was still a major part of the history every child learned in school. The parallels should be easy enough for even the most ignorant to draw.
He heard Moira gasp at the same moment he heard Selfridge (the little slime) calmly say "pull the plug." and his hands fisted with suppressed rage.
"No!" Moira protested, galvanized into action, "you can't do that!"
"You can't interrupt a link in progress!" Norm Spellman cried out as well, rushing the security personnel and even managing to take one of them out with a wild right hook before being cuffed to the rail.
"I'm sorry Neytiri," Jake pleaded with her, refusing to leave as she had screamed for him to do, "I'm sorry. Please...!" It wasn't safe for her to stay here, but he knew he couldn't make her move. Not before she was ready; not before she was done pouring out her grief over the death of her father...
She looked up at him again, but she didn't push him away this time, at least, not physically, but there was so much pain in her eyes... He wanted to take her in his arms, to rock her against him until all that pain went away, but he had the feeling she wouldn't let him, not until he gave her good reason to, and besides that, he was on borrowed time and he knew it.
"Listen," he said, "they won't let me stay here much longer, they'll take me soon, like they did before, and if you leave my body here to rot it'd be no more than I deserve, but know this: I will find a way to make this right," he said firmly, "I will find a way to make right what I've done wrong, and I will find you again when I am worthy of you."
She still didn't speak, but he saw something in her eyes that said to him that she had understood, that somehow the connection between them that had begun in the grove of the Tree of Voices had not ended when their queues detached from one another but still existed in some kind of invisible string that bound them together, whether she liked the idea or not.
"I should not believe you," she whispered finally, and he felt hope begin to flutter in his chest...and then that flutter was taken over by the detached feeling of having his link summarily shut off, and he woke to chaos and rough hands that hefted him into a fireman's carry.
"I should not believe you, but somehow, I do," Neytiri whispered as she turned to look back at the fallen tree - their fallen home - where she had left him. She had moved him a little but it had seemed wrong, and not only because of his betrayal. Those feelings, the signs Eywa brought to her, had told her that his destiny lay with the corpse of Kelutral and that if he was true to his word, as she had always thought he was, that he would make good on his promise. Although she did not see how that would be possible.
She felt her mother's hand on her shoulder and turned, her father's bow - her bow - heavy in her hand as they walked. To the forest house first, for the children, and then on to the only place they could go...to Vitrautral.
Well... That was...harder than I'd thought it would be, and I knew it would be hard. I'll continue to push through though, because I know that eventually the hard parts will be something to triumph over, and I look forward to the bittersweet moments in between as well. All is not lost, even though they might feel that way right now, and we all know that, as the Na'vi say, Eywa will provide.
There was something I wanted to make a note about...oh yes, Krav Maga. I'm curious to know if anyone realizes what this means for the background of our boys in my worldview! Did you all enjoy getting to see Tom kick Quaritch's ass, at least a little? I know I did. That part made writing everything else in this chapter worth it.
And now on to Vocab...
'ite - daughter
uniltìrantokx - dreamwalker body, empty avatar
-tsyìp - little, affectionate addition to a name
Kehe - No
sawtute - humans
uniltìranyu - dreamwalker, avatar
pa'li - direhorse
ikran - banshee
Eywa ngahu - proper way to say "goodbye" from "May Eywa be with you"
toruk - Biiig red birdie
Kelutral - Hometree
nantang - viperwolf
Sempul - Father
atokirina' - seeds of the sacred tree, messengers of Eywa
Vitrautral - the Tree of Souls, the sacred tree