Brotherhood Chapter 40
Whew, the battle's done, now on to the real meat of the story! Well, after a little running around collecting people, of course.
OMG sorry this took so long! In my defence, though, I had most of the chapter worked out and big chunks written before I posted chapters 38 and 39, but when I posted chapter 39 and started to look at it I realized that I was following too closely to the movie storyline in chapter 40 and doing Tom a massive disservice by doing so, which meant I had to scrap what I had worked out and figure out a different plot for this chapter. Everything after this will work just fine the way I had it planned already, so that same problem shouldn't haunt me too much, thank Eywa! I'm pretty happy with what I managed to do here, and I hope all of you will be as well!
I hope you all enjoy this, the final battle chapter, and do check out the next thing I'm going to post, my next side-story, "Eywa's Grace" only...don't read it until you're done with chapter 40 here, kefyak? ^_~ It sould be eye-opening and (I hope) entertaining, at least, I find it so.
Brotherhood Chapter 40: Eywa has Heard You!
The moment she first made the bond, Neytiri could sense many things, but over them all, she sensed amusement.
«You are much less skittish than most of the bluepeople,» he - yes, the palulukan was definitely male, and young - said as she examined him closely to try to work out the best way to arrange herself on his back.
«Most other Na'vi have never met one of the tìvawmtute who did not want to eat them,» Neytiri pointed out. It looked as though sitting between his sets of shoulders and ducking her head just behind his crest would work best, so that was what she did. It was not the most comfortable ride given the width of his back, but it would do.
«You know the name of our People!» She could hear the surprise and pleasure in his voice, and she chuckled.
«As I say, you are not the first I have met, although the others are all still quite young,» she admitted, «but they corrected me when I used the name my people have for yours.»
«Then I am glad the Great Treemother sent me to you and not some other blueperson,» he said with what seemed like a grin in his mental voice, «but come, we are wasting time that could be better used in making the pink ones who destroy our home into meat. Are they tasty, do you know?»
«I have never tried to eat one,» Neytiri said carefully, «but I suspect not, as they tend to have many strange things attached to them.»
«Ah, that is a shame,» he sighed, «I may try one, but if they are as foul-tasting as you suggest it might be best to leave them to become food for the forest. It would be fitting, after all.» She could feel his shoulders bunch as he readied himself to move, and flicked her tail with the same impulse as he flicked his to loosen it to better cut through the air. «Hold on tightly now, Blueperson, I would not want you to fall at the speed my People travel!»
Neytiri nodded silently and tucked her free right hand just inside the top edge of his upper spiracles, the left holding her bow as she hunkered low over his back, trying to make herself as little resistant to the wind as she could.
He rumbled with pleasure at her efforts not to impede him, and then with a leap and a bound they were off, both of their minds resonating with the pleasure of the hunt.
As he watched the thick clouds of black smoke lifting from the place where the shuttle had come crashing down, Jake felt a wave of relief pass through him. It was short-lived, though. The major threat had been taken out, but there was still Quaritch in the dragon, and even with the tide of battle turning against him, Jake knew his fellow (not ex-, no such thing) Marine would do everything he could to still, at least in some way, complete the mission he had set for himself. It was what Jake would do, too, after all, and even this long into the battle, he could see the Dragon still had more than enough firepower to do major damage to the Tree if he got close..
He passed behind the loop of rock that arched around the Well of Souls to conceal his approach, then spoke in his mind to his toruk.
"Even if I take down this one, I know he's going to get out somehow, so I'm going to need to get after him on the ground once it goes down," he said, "Once you drop me off, you can have fun however you want with the rest of the Scorpions and Sampsons. I'll meet you again when the battle is done."
"Just be sure you stay in one piece for that mate of yours," the toruk said, amusement in her voice as they dove in at a steep angle over the back of the Dragon.
"You too," he thought with affection before breaking the bond and leaping down onto the back of the "beast" he was about to take out, rolling on contact to minimize the impact and grabbing the last pair of grenades as he ran along the flat steel-and-composite frame heading for the front rotors.
He paused just before he reached the cockpit, but just as he'd lobbed the grenades, the Dragon banked hard, sending him sliding along and off the back. He only barely managed to catch hold of one of the missiles on the right side of the ship as he fell, and he swore internally. Damnit those were his last two grenades! Now what was he gonna... But then the entire ship was rocked by an explosion, and he grinned through the grimace as he clung on for dear life. Clearly at least one of the grenades had still been close enough to do some damage.
He struggled to haul himself up onto the missile platform and cursed as the right-hand missile came off in his hand. Only briefly, though, then a feral grin slipped over his features as he realized what had happened. He now had another weapon, and a much more powerful one as well! He swung up onto the platform and prepared to toss the missile into the rotor housing. He had to duck backward and let himself fall as Quaritch popped his little head out of a hatch and fired on him, but the hit was a success. As he fell he could feel the explosion as missile and rotor impacted and the inevitable occurred.
The first part of his final mission completed, Jake concentrated on his fall, looking, while in the air, for a tree with the right kind of leaves, the way Neytiri had taught him. He only hoped he made a somewhat more dignified landing this time.
As he did his best to clean Large Brother's wounds, the special compounds in his saliva stemming the flow of blood, Pack Leader was intensely aware of their surroundings. There were many others and many of the enemy pink ones still around them, and the situation was not safe. Once he was sure that the bleeding had slowed enough, he wedged his body under Large Brother's body, draping it across his back and gripping the legs with his forepaws, the same way as he would carry prey home to his pups. There was a secondary den nearby, and its dark, hidden entrance would be more than enough to keep Large Brother safe until he could heal.
He almost tangled his legs in Large Brother's more than once, but he simply growled with frustration and kept going. When they reached the den he turned and backed in, crouching to get them both through the small entrance and then straightening up. There was a cozy nest of dried leaves and grasses in a side alcove, and that was where he set Large Brother, carefully arranging him so that he had access to all of the wounds. Moving him had started them bleeding again, and Pack Leader didn't want him losing any more blood. He didn't like seeing Large Brother so hurt, it wasn't right.
When the rest of the pack was done with the hunt TreeMother had sent them on, all of them would find him and Large Brother, and with their help he was sure that they would be able to care for Large Brother until he was well again, but for now they just had to hunker down and stay safe, and "safe" meant "not bleeding" so he busily got to work again with his tongue, lovingly caring for the one who had saved him as a pup.
Now that the birth itself was done, and both mother and baby were healthy and beginning to learn that most important bonding ritual of nursing, all that was left for them to do was to clean up. For Pämeya and Txilte that was relatively easy, just a few damp cloths were more than enough to clear off the residues of amniotic liquid, and Pämeya had tucked the loose end of her loincloth up out of the way, so it was still clean and had not dangled into the mess of fluid and moss she'd ended up kneeling in
Louise, however, was not so lucky. She'd been wearing long, loose khaki pants and a tank top, and the pants had turned out to be quite...absorbent. Even if they'd had zip-off legs that would have left her with shorts it wouldn't have done any good, she was thoroughly soaked from the waist down in things she didn't really want to contemplate. Her top wasn't much better off, either. Not because she'd somehow laid down in the remains of the birthing but because she'd been holding another woman - a labouring woman - close against her own chest for the better part of half an hour by the time all was said and done, and they'd both ended up quite sweaty. Frankly, the native dress, or lack thereof, was making more and more sense to her the more time she spent among the Omatikaya. For a place that was so warm and humid, it really did seem much more logical, and really, when you thought about it, it wasn't that much different from a bikini. Well...maybe the kind of bikini you'd wear in one of those European places where it was okay for women to swim topless...
She looked down at her pants with a sigh, then stood and stripped them off. At least she didn't usually go commando, but... She made a face. Her panties were no better.
"I'm sorry," she smiled apologetically at Pämeya, "I think I'm going to need to borrow something to wear. It looks as though these clothes are all going to have to be cleaned before I can wear them again, and it wouldn't do to be walking around without anything on at all."
"You uniltìranyu wear far too much over your bodies for such a place as this," Txilte tilted her head curiously, "Why bother with the loose leggings when already you have covered your private area? And why bother with the coverings for your private area if already you have leggings that cover it also?"
"It is not so warm and wet where we come from," Louise shrugged, "and also the pants help protect our skin when we walk in the forest, but I suppose mostly it is tradition. I am lucky, really. In the time of my ancestors it was...not accepted for women to wear any garment that split between their legs."
"Sawtute are very strange," Txilte sighed, stroking her son's soft hair as he fell asleep at the breast.
"I will find something for you to wear, do not fear," Pämeya smiled.
"Thank you," Louise blushed, "I would really appreciate that." It would be native clothing, she knew, but it would be better than nothing. Hopefully she could find somewhere to get her own stuff clean quickly so that she didn't have to walk around with her butt hanging out for too long.
The litany of swear words running through the head of Miles Quaritch would, if released, have turned the air as blue as any of those damned blue monkeys that he and his troops were up against. Not only had they lost the shuttle and its payload - and not even anywhere that it might have fulfilled the deadly purpose it had been intended for - but now his Dragon, too, was fatally crippled and on its way down out of the sky quickly.
Ignoring, for the moment, the fact that his right sleeve was on fire, he bit down hard to keep from losing what air he had left after his unintended exhalation during the explosion and dropped back down into the cargo bay, swinging with some effort into his AMP suit and initiating the startup sequences as quickly as humanly possible. The Dragon was a write-off and he knew it, but that didn't mean he was going down with the ship. No, not him. He was gonna find that damn blue traitor Sully and he was going to give him a beat-down lesson the boy wouldn't soon forget!
Once the cockpit was sealed he finally took the time to bat out the flames on his shoulder - that would probably leave another scar and it'd hurt like a sumbitch later when the adrenaline left his system - then grabbed his gun and hit the lever to open the hatch. No time to hook up to a winch, he'd just have to jump for it and hope that the AMP suit's hip joints could handle the strain.
Even with her attention directed in ten or more different directions watching the battle, Eywa noticed almost immediately when something strange fell into the upper branches of her Great Tree. She thought at first that it was just a bit of debris from the battle overhead, which was beginning to die down as more and more of the tawtute vehicles were pulled from the sky and sent crashing to their fiery ends, but even though this was obviously something human-made there was more to it than just...
Ah, yes, she smiled to herself, that was it. It wasn't just debris, it was a small, struggling living thing. Pulling more of her focus in, she directed a few of the atokirina' to examine the being, to determine whether she ought to attract the attention of one of her children to save it or whether she ought just to put it out of its misery, but...no, she shook her head, this wasn't just any fallen combatant, it was a tawtute, and not just any tawtute either, it was one she recognized from the memories of Jake and Grace that she had examined, and the poor thing was quite injured. Perhaps, though...hmm...
It was worth a try, she decided, although she would have to pick Grace's mind a bit to sort out exactly how she might manage this child of her sister. She was unfamiliar, after all, with just how they were put together, and she wouldn't want to make any mistakes. With a gentle command, she caused her Great Tree to send out neural tendrils, surrounding the tawtute and monitoring to ensure that life was sustained until she could consult with Grace. Which would have to wait just a short while, for she would not move on this until the battle was done and she was sure her attention could be put entirely on this new project.
As he landed with his precious burden, Mrrket looked around him and frowned. He knew there were healers here, but his people's encampment had been on the rim of the bowl, not within its center, and he hadn't been shown where exactly the healers were. he shifted the girl (he didn't even know her name yet, or what tribe she was born to or anything else about her, but for now that didn't matter) so that her arms were over his shoulders, which let him keep one hand between her legs to both hold her up and keep pressure on her wound as he dismounted and made his way quickly in amongst the people gathered at the base of Vitrautral.
There were a number of exclamations as people saw him, no doubt because he was carrying a bleeding woman, but one of those who saw him ran up to him, a woman with elaborate necklaces, he realized as he looked a little closer, and she put a hand to his arm to halt him.
"Where are you taking Peyral?" she asked, her eyes wide.
Peyral. Ah, that must be the beauty's name. "I was hoping to bring her to the healers," he said, "but I do not know where they are."
"I know," the woman nodded, turning to look at one of the males nearby. "I must take them to the healers, ma yawne," she said, frowning.
"Of course you must," her man nodded, "I'll be right here waiting for you to get back."
"Alright then," she flashed a brief, worried smile back to Mrrket, "follow me." She took off at a quick jog, and Mrrket followed, doing his best not to jostle his precious burden...not to jostle Peyral, he repeated her name to himself. Even her name was beautiful! It would roll off the tongue wonderfully, he thought as his eyes stayed focused on the tail of his guide as she wove them between encampments of people, heading for the area closest to Vitrautral.
His hand was starting to ache from holding it so tightly against Peyral's wound, but he would have held it longer if he had to. Blessedly, though, it wasn't necessary. He suddenly realized that his guide had stopped and that they were standing in the midst of an area of healing and someone had taken hold of his arm.
"We have bound above the wound," a sweet, grandmotherly-looking woman said, "you may set our tsmuke down now. Here there is a bed of soft moss for her."
"Irayo, ma Sa'nu," he nodded, carefully crouching to set her down. His legs and hand were sticky with her blood but he didn't care. He wasn't going to move until he knew for sure that she would be alright.
"I am called Tsenu," the healer said absently as she ran her hands quickly and efficiently over Peyral's body to check for other injuries. "Did you see what happened to her and how much blood she lost before you reached her? I do not like that she sleeps, it speaks to more blood loss than it would seem from what you and she wear."
"Oh! She sleeps because I used the sleeping-point on her," he shook his head, "I caught her as she fell from the sky, and this blood that you see is most of what she lost. The rest decorates the back of my ikran although I do not doubt she will soon cleanse herself of it. My mother is a healer and taught me enough to know that I had to bring her to you, but she was...unwilling to so easily give up the fight, so I was forced to take drastic measures to keep her with me on my ikran," he admitted.
"Ah," Tsenu nodded, "yes, that would be our Peyral. It is not easy for her to realize when she should rest herself, especially when she is defending those she loves. Perhaps it would be best if you wait here with her. She is likely to be...unruly when she wakes and finds I have forbidden her from returning to battle, and I am but an old healer woman, I do not have the strength to hold her."
"Of course I will wait," Mrrket nodded, "It would do little good if I caught her and brought her here to be healed, only to have her run back to the battle again before she is well!"
"I will wait also," the young woman who had guided him to the healers nodded, "I can perhaps scold her and remind her of her other duties to the clan besides fighting and dying for us. Especially now."
Mrrket hardly noticed the evaluating glance the young woman gave him, though. His mind was much more focused in watching the healers work to clean and explore Peyral's wound before they began to carefully seal it.
At least, Jake thought to himself as he rolled to a stop on the forest floor, he'd managed to hit most of the big leaves square-on this time, rather than getting tangled in vines and other things and flipped around as he fell. He was getting better at this. Heck, a few years from now he might even look as graceful as Neytiri. Hmm...Or maybe not, he chuckled to himself, there were some things a guy was just never meant to be, and graceful was one of them. At least, as far as he was concerned.
He rolled to his feet and ran a few steps, then gazed overhead to see the massive, burning hulk of the Dragon making its critically crippled way down from the sky. It was drifting in the direction that Jake was pretty sure held the link-mod, and that could be a very, very bad thing. Pausing just long enough to put himself to rights, he took off at a steady lope, heading for where the dragon looked most likely to crash-land. There was no way that, given the amount of time he had before the end came, Quaritch wouldn't have ditched somehow, and Jake knew that he still had one, final duty before the battle was over - he had to take the Colonel out, once and for all.
As Norm stormed through the thick brush on the forest floor, he could still feel the pain of the shots across his chest and down his left arm - the shoulder in which his avatar had been shot - but he couldn't focus on it. No, his only focus right now was to get to his avatar as fast as he could, to make sure that it stayed in one piece. He was beginning to reach the edge of the battle zone, and he'd run into a few retreating Na'vi here and there, and actually been challenged a couple of times, but he'd called out to them in their own language, telling them he was uniltìranyu, and they had let him pass. The one who stopped him fourth actually recognized him, though, and Norm recognized him in turn. It was Mo'met, one of the young men who had first invited him to ride with them.
"Why do you wear this strange tawtute body, Norrmspellman?" he asked, "it is dangerous to be among the people looking like one of the enemy."
"My uniltìrantokx has been injured, and I cannot wear it until its pain is less," Norm explained, "I am out here in this body because I need to find it and keep it safe, if it has not already been killed by some tawtute vrrtep."
"Pxasìk! It is not right that you should be without the body that lets you live among the People!" Mo'met swore, "Come, ride with me, I will keep you safe and get you more quickly to the place where your proper body rests so that you may make it safe until you can dream yourself into it again."
"I would be forever grateful for your help in this matter," Norm nodded politely.
"Then come, my pa'li managed to escape with me, and she is this way. You need not fear that we will be attacked," Mo'met added with a grin, "Eywa has come to our defence!"
As they ran together, their minds closely linked, Neytiri couldn't help but wonder at the complexity of the adult palulukan's thoughts. It had been obvious talking to Taka's children that palulukan were different from most of the "younger brothers", the animals, but her new connection just made that difference all the more obvious. He was not merely a highly efficient killing machine - although he was that - but he was also a being with a wicked sense of humour and some very strong morals...even if some of them made her just a little edgy to think too deeply on. His response to her memories of the fall of her home, for example, was sympathetic, but also derisive of the sawtute for "wasting so much good meat". To the palulukan, killing was for the purpose of eating, unless it was for the purpose of defence of territory, and even then, they did not kill one another in territorial disputes unless driven by absolute desperation. The strangest part, to her (although from a certain angle she could understand it) was that when one of these territorial killings occurred, it was considered "only good manners" to eat the loser. After all, he had put all his effort into staying alive, and it would be disrespectful to allow him to rot and be "eaten by the forest" unless he had been very sick.
All of a sudden, her new partner shuddered to a stop, all six legs planting themselves so firmly that Neytiri almost went over his head, and turned sharply to the left.
«What's the matter?» she asked, surprised at his change of direction.
«The Great Treemother says there is one in danger,» he said, «that your mate is in need of you, and that I am to carry you to where he sleeps.»
"Jhake?" Neytiri said, too startled to keep her conversation within her mind, «He is in danger? What's wrong?»
«She did not say, only that we must get there quickly,» The palulukan huffed, «so you had better hold on tightly. Now we will truly run!»
Neytiri hunkered down close and they took off, their speed remarkable as he seemed to almost flow over the ground, taking the path of least resistance in as straight a line as they could manage back toward ayVitraya Ramunong.
There was silence between them at first, as he concentrated intensely, but once he'd settled into something of a rhythm of running he relaxed enough that she began to hear his voice in her mind once again.
«I had not realized you were mated,» he said, and she felt his lowered sensory quills play across her back, «although I do smell/sense a male's scent from you, so I suppose it should not surprise me. Do Bluepeople also take only one mate?»
«We do,» Neytiri smiled a little as she thought of Jhake, «and I am only recently mated so perhaps that was why you couldn't tell.»
That got her an amused reaction. If he'd been one of the People, she thought, he would have been laughing just then. «Thank you for the excuse,» he said, «but no, I should have known. I suppose I just didn't think about it.»
«Do you have a mate?» Neytiri asked, politely turning the conversation from his small misstep.
«Me?» He honestly sounded surprised, then he made a chortling sound as he ran, «I am still a little too young, but there is one female whose scent/sense I follow closely where our territories overlap. Perhaps in another season I may try to convince her we would be well-matched and that our territories would be more efficient for hunting if they were combined. I will have to chose my timing carefully though, and bring plenty of food-gifts. She is most fierce!»
Neytiri was given a mental sense-picture of another palulukan, this one slightly smaller than the one she was presently partnered with, also young and smelling of robust health.
«To be mated is a wonderful thing,» she said, «I wish you the Great Mother's blessing in your mating quest, whenever you chose to undertake it.»
«I thank you,» he said politely, then he began to slow just a little, his passage through the forest becoming totally silent. «We draw close,» he warned, «you must be ready!»
Tom frowned. Something wasn't right, he knew it wasn't right! He could feel Jake's emotions now far stronger than he had before, clearly, Jake must be closer to them, and something was making Jake worry, no, more than worry, there was an edge of panic in the emotions Tom knew had to be coming from his brother. He looked around, trying to figure out where such emotions could be coming from, and that was when he saw it, just the last corner of the Dragon, burning as it slipped out of the sky, and, more concerning, the figure of an AMP suit dropping out of its belly.
Quaritch. It had to be Quaritch, and from where the ship had gone down, Tom knew it was close to the link-mod! He'd promised Ninat he would stay safe, that he would be waiting here for her when she got back from showing that Ikran clan hunter where to take the injured Peyral, but none of that would matter if Quaritch got to the link-mod unchallenged, and he knew Jake must be too far away to get there in time.
"I have to go," he said to Cathy and Antsu, "I...Quaritch is almost at the link-mod," he explained quickly. Only half an explanation, but the wide-eyed expression on Cathy's face told him she understood just how dangerous the situation was. "Jake's on his way, but somebody has to delay Quaritch long enough for him to get there, and it looks like that's going to have to be me."
Antsu frowned and looked at Cathy, then nodded. "I understand," he said, "but if you are hurt, then my sister's scolding will seem like a blessing when the rest of us are through with you."
Tom grinned. "I know," he said, "but that just means I'll have to make sure to stay in one piece. I just have to keep him distracted a little while, after all."
"Then take these," Antsu handed him bolas that were lying nearby. Tom wasn't sure who they belonged to, but he nodded. They would come in handy for sure, especially since he didn't have any other weapons at the moment. There hadn't been any need to leave him a gun besides the one inside the link-mod, after all. He was almost surprised Antsu had remembered the conversation they'd had one evening about some of the other cultures Tom had studied, and the fact that Tom had mentioned then that he'd learned how to use bolas from a Polynesian dancer.
"Thanks," Tom gripped his brother-in-law's hand hard, then got to his feet, the bolas dangling carefully from his right hand, and ran off quickly in the direction of the link-mod.
As Jody Nkumo looked around at the rather ragtag remnants of his troop he tried to keep his spirits up (and thus theirs as well) but it wasn't easy. They were clearly lost in the middle of the Pandoran jungle, and it wasn't likely that there would be rescue coming anytime soon. All they could do was keep moving and hope to God they were going in the right direction and that someone would find them. Well, someone who was inclined to listen before shooting and who understood enough English to know what "we surrender" means.
All of a sudden the air was filled with a low, chittering sound that almost reminded Jody of the buzzing of cicadas. It seemed to enter the whole body and discombobulate the brain. He looked around, trying to figure out where the noise was coming from, and saw three heads poking out from the bushes. Jody tried to figure out what they were, but even though the shape looked familiar he just couldn't get his mind wrapped around where he might have seen them before. Certainly not in the jungle itself, maybe a picture?
He was too busy trying to push through the mud in his brain to notice when one of the heads disappeared back into the jungle, but he certainly noticed when it came back, because the chittering stopped abruptly and a pair of Na'vi stepped into the clearing behind it. No, he realized, not two Na'vi, but a Na'vi and an avatar. Thank whatever gods were listening!
"We surrender! We surrender!" he said, quickly raising his hands above his head. "We're unarmed, just get us the hell out of here!"
The rest of the troop quickly followed suit, and the avatar chuckled, then said something in rapid-fire Na'vi to the native before turning back to Jody. "You're the one in charge here?" he asked.
"I am," Jody nodded, "Second Lieutenant Jody Nkumo, formerly of the Tanzania People's Defence Force, and wishing I'd never bothered with the damned RDA," he said, "Can you get us out of here somehow? All we want right now is to get back to the base."
"I can't make any promises," the avatar shook his head, "but if Eywa has already spared you then I'll do my best to convince Jake to send you back. For now, though, you'd better come with me. We'll set you up in a little internment camp and at least feed you until Jake can find the time to deal with you."
Jody nodded. He knew how these kind of things worked, you didn't make promises the commander might disagree with, and at least they would feed him and his men...er...troops. Collins was always so tetchy about it when he referred to her as one of his "men". "I understand," he said to the avatar, "right now we'd just be glad to have a safe place to sit down."
"That I can get you," the man smiled. "Sano," he said, looking down at the animal... Jody's eyes widened as he suddenly made the connection. The animals that had surrounded them were thanators! Obviously not full-grown, but still... "You and the girls make sure all these folks stay together, we're heading back to the tree."
The little thanator made a grumbly sort of noise and loped over to where the other two were now entering the clearing fully, and then Jody indicated to everyone that they were on the move. At least, he thought, they were safe from the rest of the jungle now. Nothing would dare attack three thanators, not even if they were babies!
Tom could hear Quaritch before he saw him, the creaking, squeaking joints of his AMP suit standing out among the more natural sounds of the forest around him, and this was what gave him probably the only advantage he had. He'd attached a long line to the handle of the bolas, and he knew that he had to make this throw carefully and correctly, or he was going to be out of the fight before it even started. He climbed up into a tree just on the edge of the clearing where the link-mod had been set, positioning himself on a footpath-wide branch near the trunk, and crouched down, beginning to swing the bolas.
He watched as Quaritch approached, and it was obvious the man hadn't noticed him yet. All his attention was on the link-mod, and he raised his gun toward it, no doubt figuring he could take out his main opponent with much less trouble this way.
Tom bit down on the automatic impulse to announce himself. Mom had taught them that in a fair fight it was only polite to announce yourself to your opponent, but in an unfair fight, it was more than alright to just attack first, to make the first move and take the advantage back in any way you could. He continued to swing the bolas as he got to his feet, then loosed them, grinning with pleasure as he watched them wrap around the gun. Wrapping the line around his hands as the startled Quaritch began to turn in his direction, he leapt backward off the branch, using it as a simple pulley to use his weight to yank the gun up and out of Quaritch's grip. Even better, as he landed in a low crouch he watched the gun flip upward as its momentum changed, smashing into the iron-hard trunk of the tree and falling to the ground, shattered.
"Well well well, if it isn't the other Sully," Quaritch growled, "come to disgrace your mother's memory again, boy?"
"No," Tom hissed, "I've come to honour it by taking out a piece of trash that's littering this planet." He gripped a loose rock that he'd noticed as he landed and stood. He knew he was going to have to keep taking the offensive if he was to delay Quaritch enough - and honestly, that's all he was doing here really, delaying the Colonel long enough for Jake to arrive - so with a harsh cry he ran forward, rock in hand, and vaulted up the body of the AMP suit, crouching on top and using the rock and all his strength to try to shatter the windshield.
'Come on, Jake, come on!' he chanted silently as he bashed at one side of the plex and then the other, ducking under Quaritch's giant metal hands again and again as the Colonel tried to throw him off.
He'd gotten in a few good hits, but the plex still wasn't shattering, when he all of a sudden felt what seemed like a lash of fire travel across his back and then he was being hurtled through the air toward the very tree he'd jumped down from. The impact must have knocked his avatar unconscious, because the next thing he was aware of was that he was awake inside his link bed. He briefly tried to force his consciousness back into the avatar, but the groggy/pain/ache feeling was more than his mind was willing to put up with, and he was immediately shunted back to the link bed again. Shit! It looked like he was going to have to do this in human form somehow.
He threw back the lid of the link unit and sat up, looking around quickly for anything he could use. he could see that Norm's bed was empty, and he worried briefly for his friend's health and well-being, but then he noted that one of the guns that had been left here for them was gone as well, and he knew that at least Norm wasn't out there unarmed. He hopped down out of the link bed and picked up the gun, slinging it crossways over his back so that he could grip the strap with his sling-hindered right arm, and opened the door to the back airlock. If he could get outside and get into a good position, he might just be able to take Quaritch out before he caused too much more damage, although Tom was very worried for his avatar. Only for a moment, though. Just as he was about to close the door and start the air exchange cycle, he heard Jake's voice ring out through the clearing.
"Give it up, Quaritch!" he heard his brother say, and Tom knew that with his usual impeccable timing, Jake had gotten there just at the right moment. Now all that was left was for the brothers to tag-team and take Quaritch out!
As the hiss of the air exchange stopped, the outer door unlatched with a heavy clunk, and Tom hurried outside. He figured his best bet was to see if he couldn't get up on top of the link-mod; from there he ought to have a clear shot. There was a ladder of sorts, but the rungs were very widely spaced, and Tom only had one really usable hand. Still, you do what you have to. Moving as fast as he could, Tom struggled to make the climb. He had to do this! Jake and everyone else were counting on him!
As he sat in the cab of the slash-cutter approaching the comms-ops tower, Max could see people running around like little ants. Whatever it was they were doing they clearly hadn't noticed him yet, and that was just perfect as far as he was concerned. They could stay busy as long as they wanted, they'd know he was there soon enough, when he sliced open the top of the place like a tin can!
He remembered Jaime had said his station was on the right-hand side of the room, so he made sure to head for the left-hand side (his right) as he drew in close. Ah. Now they'd started to notice. Too late, but they'd started to notice. He saw Selfridge standing in the window and raised a hand in the universal single-finger salute as he raised the arm of the slash-cutter. Time to do a little re-decorating!
The guards on the outside balcony dove for cover, although they kept their guns with them. It worried Max momentarily, but then he saw the first of the Avatars come running over, gun raised. Perfect timing! The screech of metal meeting metal was the sweetest song he'd ever heard as the rotating head of the slash-cutter sliced through the roof of the comms-ops tower, opening it up like a cheap tin can, and Max couldn't help laughing. This really was ridiculously cathartic! "Take that for all your grandstanding, you pernicious little weasel!" he chuckled as he opened up a gap big enough to drive through in the front bank of windows. He didn't want to actually kill anyone in there, of course, but he knew they were all well-trained, they'd have their exopaks and emergency rebreathers close at hand, and they'd be far too busy fussing with getting those on to concentrate on anything else, which would give the avatars time to get in there and make sure everyone was contained.
And there went the avatars, scaling the side of the building like it was just another climbing wall. Max felt a brief twinge of envy, but he shrugged it off. It was hardly his fault that his genetics weren't compatible with the avatar program, and he'd long since learned to live with it. Besides, if he'd been in an avatar, he wouldn't have fit in the cab of the slash-cutter, and this was tons of fun!
As he peered into the clearing where the link-mod rested Jake could see Quaritch in his AMP suit, knife-blade held high, about to drive a killing blow into Tom's unconscious avatar. His eyes narrowed and he felt a fresh surge of adrenaline (or whatever you called the Na'vi equivalent) flood his system. Fuck no, that wasn't going to happen! Not if Jake had anything to say about it!
"Give it up, Quaritch!" he called out as he leapt down from the tree he'd been crouching in, landing in a crouch before standing, "It's all over." He had to at least give the man a chance to back out. Not that he thought it was likely to happen. The Colonel had an absolutely raging level of testosterone, and even through the scratched glass of the AMP's cockpit Jake could see the deep level of crazy shining in his eyes.
"Nothin's over while I'm breathin'." Quaritch said firmly, and Jake flashed a feral grin.
"I kinda hoped you'd say that," he said, and ran toward him, picking up the bayonet portion of the AMP's gun that he could see lying on the ground in front of him like somebody had kindly placed it there for his very own use.
They faced off and battle quickly commenced, the bayonet and knife meeting again and again in a style more reminiscent of down and dirty street fighting than any kind of formal martial art. There was no graceful parry and riposte here, just brutal stabs and blocks, and while Quaritch might have the superior size, strength and reach in his AMP suit, Jake had agility on his side and it showed. Constantly he ducked under the Colonel's powerful but wild swings, dancing just outside his reach and darting in tor a quick jab or stab of his own. Finally, just as Quaritch was beginning to get a little too close for comfort, Jake managed, with a baseball-bat-like swing of the bayonet, to catch the blade of Quaritch's knife in the handle, and with a quick twist of his grip, snapped it off at the hilt.
Pressing his advantage, he darted to a nearby rock and launched himself into the air, stabbing the bayonet down straight through the windshield of the AMP although not, he quickly realized with disappointment, into Quaritch himself. He vaulted over the suit's head, evading Quaritch's attempt to grab him, then had to duck as Quaritch pulled the broken bayonet out and threw it in his direction.
"Come on!" he called out, dancing in front of the crippled suit as Quaritch paused to put on his exopak mask and jettison the shattered plex of the windshield.
"Hey Sully," Quaritch said darkly, "how's it feel to betray your own race?"
Jake didn't even grace that with any reply other than an angry hiss, but that said all that needed saying. 'It feels pretty damned good! You are so goin' down!' All of that was implicit in his fierce display.
"You think you're one of them?" Quaritch sneered, "Time to wake up!"
He turned and strode over toward the link-mod, and Jake's eyes went wide with alarm. Shit! If Quaritch pulled him out of link, this was all going to go to hell quicker than a hooker sliding down a greased pole.
Xander waved once more in thanks to the tower gunner who'd been watching their backs as they came around the corner just out of his line of sight and saw Max in his purloined slash-cutter. He watched as Mike and LeJun took out the gunners outside on the balcony, and a few of the others took out other guards stationed on the ground, then he, Nala and four others climbed up the side of the comms-ops tower to complete their objective of capturing it.
It almost reminded him of playing paintball with his brother and friends when they were kids, although, he reminded himself, if he actually shot the gun at anybody it was very likely they'd be killed rather than just bruised and covered in paint.
They jumped inside the massive hole Max had made for them, guns raised to the ceiling and high above human head level as he heard someone call out "Weapons up! Be ready!"
In a barrage of automatic weapons fire, the avatars swarmed into comms-ops, sending everyone diving for cover and ordering them to stay down and not move. Xander let the others take care of subduing the rest of the staff, and he and Nala pushed further in, looking for Selfridge. More than anything else, it was important to make sure they held him hostage. That way he wouldn't have time to send out any kind of damaging messages on the superluminal communications network that might have alerted the execs back on Earth to be on the lookout for the vitally important information Bailey was even now organizing to send out.
They found Selfridge behind his desk, cowering on the floor, and Xander thought it really was only fitting. His dad had always said bullies were the first ones to give up when things really came down to the wire, after all, and when you thought about it in some ways that really was all Selfridge was, a selfish little bully who just didn't understand how things worked here outside of his own scrounging efforts to dig up a bit of profit.
"Okay, stop shooting!" Selfridge whimpered, and Xander and Nala both trained their guns on him.
"Gimme a reason, prick," Xander growled. He might be a pacifist normally, but right now, knowing what this idiot had allowed to happen, he was more than willing to do a little damage. Not kill the man outright, no, but maybe a couple shots through a foot or hand might remind him where his priorities ought to lie.
No, though, he never got that reason. The prick just laid there on his back with his hands up. "Okay," he panted, giving up. Xander figured he'd just have to be satisfied with that for now.
«We are almost at the place where your mate rests,» the palulukan said, «and it seems all is not well. We should move quickly if we are to keep him alive for you.»
Neytiri agreed with the palulukan's assessment. They didn't have a moment to waste. She could smell/sense her mate through his senses, could smell/sense the desperation he was exuding from his pores, and as they approached through the trees she caught glimpses of him as well. He was fighting with a tawtute in one of their metal bodies, and he seemed to be struggling. He was thrown to the ground, and he seemed to be having a very hard time getting to his feet again. With every glance she got through the trees, the scene got worse. He was getting to his feet, then he was on the ground, then he was beginning to sit up, then the tawtute in his metal body - that vrrtep - had reached down and was lifting Jhake by his tswin!
She and the palulukan both had to resist the urge to roar in anger at such an abuse, and put that energy into a leap onto a rock instead, giving Neytiri a clear line of sight beside Jhake's hanging body. The tawtute was holding his own knife to his throat now, but Neytiri had to push her anger aside. To get a clear shot with such a tight angle and a small target, she needed to be utterly focused. She took in a deep breath and released the arrow, feeling a burst of relief as it struck home. The tawtute dropped Jhake in his shock, and Neytiri took the chance to get in closer, releasing her second arrow just to make sure the job was done.
Even before she saw the second arrow strike her target she was off the back of the palulukan and crouched over Jhake's unconscious body. She let out a possessive hiss as she watched the metal body fall, its occupant clearly now dead, then turned her attention back to her mate.
"Jhake!" she called, trying to get his attention, hoping beyond hope that he was alright!
Tom cursed vociferously as the link-mod rocked with Quaritch's blow, and he struggled to hold on with his one free arm. He debated briefly with himself as to whether he should continue his climb, since he was already almost at the top of the link-mod, or if he should try to quickly climb down and get inside to make sure Jake didn't suffocate.
He was about to climb up over the top and hope to be able to protect Jake once he had to unlink, but then he suddenly became aware of a sound off to the side. He was amazed he could hear anything over the blaring breach-alarm of the link-mod, but there was something... He turned his head to look, and saw something he never would have expected in a million years. There was a thanator, a palulukan, at the edge of the clearing, climbing up over a rock to gain height, and on its back... On its back, looking like some kind of avenging angel, there was Neytiri, her bow - her father's bow - drawn.
With a harsh cry, she released her first arrow, then a second as the linked pair, rider and mount, leapt down closer. Tom pulled himself up just high enough to see over the roof of the link-mod and swore. Quaritch, in his AMP suit, had fallen to the ground, obviously dead with a brace of giant arrows protruding from his chest, but Jake was unconscious, or rather, his avatar was empty, and he didn't look to be waking up.
"Jhake!" Neytiri called, shaking him, "Jhake!" and Tom knew there was no time to waste. Clearly Jake was suffocating, somehow unable to get to an exopak, and of course Neytiri didn't know what to do!
He swung down the side of the link-mod as quickly as he could, wincing in pain as he tried to grab hold with his injured arm and sent a wave of tingling up through his elbow before dropping the ten feet to the ground, tucking into the best approximation of a roll he could manage and running for the airlock. He only hoped he had enough time left!
Whew! *wipes brow* well that was a ride and a half! I wonder how many of you picked up the little hints about certain characters everyone's been worrying over ^_~ And those who do know my plans, shhhh, let everyone guess until the next chapter comes out XD
Now, go read Eywa's Grace! Well, right after you muddle through the...
Vocab:
palulukan - thanator
tìvawmtute - "person of darkness", the name my palulukan give themselves
toruk - great leonopteryx
uniltìranyu - "dreamwalker", avatar
tawtute / sawtute - "sky person/people", human(s)
atokirina' - seed of the sacred tree, messenger of Eywa
Vitrautral - Tree of Souls
yawne - beloved
tsmuke - sister
Irayo - thank you
Sa'nu - mom, affectionately (in this case Mrrket is using it to be politely deferent to Tsenu)
ikran - banshee
uniltìrantokx - "dreamwalker body", empty avatar
Pxasìk - "screw that!", "No way!", a fairly vulgar expression, as Na'vi goes. Yes, this is a Na'vi swear word ^_~
pa'li - direhorse
ayVitraya Ramunong - Well of Souls
vrrtep - demon
tswin - queue
XD Tomorrow I will post for your perusal the first chapter of "Eywa's Grace" Irony, you ought to enjoy that one!
OMG sorry this took so long! In my defence, though, I had most of the chapter worked out and big chunks written before I posted chapters 38 and 39, but when I posted chapter 39 and started to look at it I realized that I was following too closely to the movie storyline in chapter 40 and doing Tom a massive disservice by doing so, which meant I had to scrap what I had worked out and figure out a different plot for this chapter. Everything after this will work just fine the way I had it planned already, so that same problem shouldn't haunt me too much, thank Eywa! I'm pretty happy with what I managed to do here, and I hope all of you will be as well!
I hope you all enjoy this, the final battle chapter, and do check out the next thing I'm going to post, my next side-story, "Eywa's Grace" only...don't read it until you're done with chapter 40 here, kefyak? ^_~ It sould be eye-opening and (I hope) entertaining, at least, I find it so.
Brotherhood Chapter 40: Eywa has Heard You!
The moment she first made the bond, Neytiri could sense many things, but over them all, she sensed amusement.
«You are much less skittish than most of the bluepeople,» he - yes, the palulukan was definitely male, and young - said as she examined him closely to try to work out the best way to arrange herself on his back.
«Most other Na'vi have never met one of the tìvawmtute who did not want to eat them,» Neytiri pointed out. It looked as though sitting between his sets of shoulders and ducking her head just behind his crest would work best, so that was what she did. It was not the most comfortable ride given the width of his back, but it would do.
«You know the name of our People!» She could hear the surprise and pleasure in his voice, and she chuckled.
«As I say, you are not the first I have met, although the others are all still quite young,» she admitted, «but they corrected me when I used the name my people have for yours.»
«Then I am glad the Great Treemother sent me to you and not some other blueperson,» he said with what seemed like a grin in his mental voice, «but come, we are wasting time that could be better used in making the pink ones who destroy our home into meat. Are they tasty, do you know?»
«I have never tried to eat one,» Neytiri said carefully, «but I suspect not, as they tend to have many strange things attached to them.»
«Ah, that is a shame,» he sighed, «I may try one, but if they are as foul-tasting as you suggest it might be best to leave them to become food for the forest. It would be fitting, after all.» She could feel his shoulders bunch as he readied himself to move, and flicked her tail with the same impulse as he flicked his to loosen it to better cut through the air. «Hold on tightly now, Blueperson, I would not want you to fall at the speed my People travel!»
Neytiri nodded silently and tucked her free right hand just inside the top edge of his upper spiracles, the left holding her bow as she hunkered low over his back, trying to make herself as little resistant to the wind as she could.
He rumbled with pleasure at her efforts not to impede him, and then with a leap and a bound they were off, both of their minds resonating with the pleasure of the hunt.
As he watched the thick clouds of black smoke lifting from the place where the shuttle had come crashing down, Jake felt a wave of relief pass through him. It was short-lived, though. The major threat had been taken out, but there was still Quaritch in the dragon, and even with the tide of battle turning against him, Jake knew his fellow (not ex-, no such thing) Marine would do everything he could to still, at least in some way, complete the mission he had set for himself. It was what Jake would do, too, after all, and even this long into the battle, he could see the Dragon still had more than enough firepower to do major damage to the Tree if he got close..
He passed behind the loop of rock that arched around the Well of Souls to conceal his approach, then spoke in his mind to his toruk.
"Even if I take down this one, I know he's going to get out somehow, so I'm going to need to get after him on the ground once it goes down," he said, "Once you drop me off, you can have fun however you want with the rest of the Scorpions and Sampsons. I'll meet you again when the battle is done."
"Just be sure you stay in one piece for that mate of yours," the toruk said, amusement in her voice as they dove in at a steep angle over the back of the Dragon.
"You too," he thought with affection before breaking the bond and leaping down onto the back of the "beast" he was about to take out, rolling on contact to minimize the impact and grabbing the last pair of grenades as he ran along the flat steel-and-composite frame heading for the front rotors.
He paused just before he reached the cockpit, but just as he'd lobbed the grenades, the Dragon banked hard, sending him sliding along and off the back. He only barely managed to catch hold of one of the missiles on the right side of the ship as he fell, and he swore internally. Damnit those were his last two grenades! Now what was he gonna... But then the entire ship was rocked by an explosion, and he grinned through the grimace as he clung on for dear life. Clearly at least one of the grenades had still been close enough to do some damage.
He struggled to haul himself up onto the missile platform and cursed as the right-hand missile came off in his hand. Only briefly, though, then a feral grin slipped over his features as he realized what had happened. He now had another weapon, and a much more powerful one as well! He swung up onto the platform and prepared to toss the missile into the rotor housing. He had to duck backward and let himself fall as Quaritch popped his little head out of a hatch and fired on him, but the hit was a success. As he fell he could feel the explosion as missile and rotor impacted and the inevitable occurred.
The first part of his final mission completed, Jake concentrated on his fall, looking, while in the air, for a tree with the right kind of leaves, the way Neytiri had taught him. He only hoped he made a somewhat more dignified landing this time.
As he did his best to clean Large Brother's wounds, the special compounds in his saliva stemming the flow of blood, Pack Leader was intensely aware of their surroundings. There were many others and many of the enemy pink ones still around them, and the situation was not safe. Once he was sure that the bleeding had slowed enough, he wedged his body under Large Brother's body, draping it across his back and gripping the legs with his forepaws, the same way as he would carry prey home to his pups. There was a secondary den nearby, and its dark, hidden entrance would be more than enough to keep Large Brother safe until he could heal.
He almost tangled his legs in Large Brother's more than once, but he simply growled with frustration and kept going. When they reached the den he turned and backed in, crouching to get them both through the small entrance and then straightening up. There was a cozy nest of dried leaves and grasses in a side alcove, and that was where he set Large Brother, carefully arranging him so that he had access to all of the wounds. Moving him had started them bleeding again, and Pack Leader didn't want him losing any more blood. He didn't like seeing Large Brother so hurt, it wasn't right.
When the rest of the pack was done with the hunt TreeMother had sent them on, all of them would find him and Large Brother, and with their help he was sure that they would be able to care for Large Brother until he was well again, but for now they just had to hunker down and stay safe, and "safe" meant "not bleeding" so he busily got to work again with his tongue, lovingly caring for the one who had saved him as a pup.
Now that the birth itself was done, and both mother and baby were healthy and beginning to learn that most important bonding ritual of nursing, all that was left for them to do was to clean up. For Pämeya and Txilte that was relatively easy, just a few damp cloths were more than enough to clear off the residues of amniotic liquid, and Pämeya had tucked the loose end of her loincloth up out of the way, so it was still clean and had not dangled into the mess of fluid and moss she'd ended up kneeling in
Louise, however, was not so lucky. She'd been wearing long, loose khaki pants and a tank top, and the pants had turned out to be quite...absorbent. Even if they'd had zip-off legs that would have left her with shorts it wouldn't have done any good, she was thoroughly soaked from the waist down in things she didn't really want to contemplate. Her top wasn't much better off, either. Not because she'd somehow laid down in the remains of the birthing but because she'd been holding another woman - a labouring woman - close against her own chest for the better part of half an hour by the time all was said and done, and they'd both ended up quite sweaty. Frankly, the native dress, or lack thereof, was making more and more sense to her the more time she spent among the Omatikaya. For a place that was so warm and humid, it really did seem much more logical, and really, when you thought about it, it wasn't that much different from a bikini. Well...maybe the kind of bikini you'd wear in one of those European places where it was okay for women to swim topless...
She looked down at her pants with a sigh, then stood and stripped them off. At least she didn't usually go commando, but... She made a face. Her panties were no better.
"I'm sorry," she smiled apologetically at Pämeya, "I think I'm going to need to borrow something to wear. It looks as though these clothes are all going to have to be cleaned before I can wear them again, and it wouldn't do to be walking around without anything on at all."
"You uniltìranyu wear far too much over your bodies for such a place as this," Txilte tilted her head curiously, "Why bother with the loose leggings when already you have covered your private area? And why bother with the coverings for your private area if already you have leggings that cover it also?"
"It is not so warm and wet where we come from," Louise shrugged, "and also the pants help protect our skin when we walk in the forest, but I suppose mostly it is tradition. I am lucky, really. In the time of my ancestors it was...not accepted for women to wear any garment that split between their legs."
"Sawtute are very strange," Txilte sighed, stroking her son's soft hair as he fell asleep at the breast.
"I will find something for you to wear, do not fear," Pämeya smiled.
"Thank you," Louise blushed, "I would really appreciate that." It would be native clothing, she knew, but it would be better than nothing. Hopefully she could find somewhere to get her own stuff clean quickly so that she didn't have to walk around with her butt hanging out for too long.
The litany of swear words running through the head of Miles Quaritch would, if released, have turned the air as blue as any of those damned blue monkeys that he and his troops were up against. Not only had they lost the shuttle and its payload - and not even anywhere that it might have fulfilled the deadly purpose it had been intended for - but now his Dragon, too, was fatally crippled and on its way down out of the sky quickly.
Ignoring, for the moment, the fact that his right sleeve was on fire, he bit down hard to keep from losing what air he had left after his unintended exhalation during the explosion and dropped back down into the cargo bay, swinging with some effort into his AMP suit and initiating the startup sequences as quickly as humanly possible. The Dragon was a write-off and he knew it, but that didn't mean he was going down with the ship. No, not him. He was gonna find that damn blue traitor Sully and he was going to give him a beat-down lesson the boy wouldn't soon forget!
Once the cockpit was sealed he finally took the time to bat out the flames on his shoulder - that would probably leave another scar and it'd hurt like a sumbitch later when the adrenaline left his system - then grabbed his gun and hit the lever to open the hatch. No time to hook up to a winch, he'd just have to jump for it and hope that the AMP suit's hip joints could handle the strain.
Even with her attention directed in ten or more different directions watching the battle, Eywa noticed almost immediately when something strange fell into the upper branches of her Great Tree. She thought at first that it was just a bit of debris from the battle overhead, which was beginning to die down as more and more of the tawtute vehicles were pulled from the sky and sent crashing to their fiery ends, but even though this was obviously something human-made there was more to it than just...
Ah, yes, she smiled to herself, that was it. It wasn't just debris, it was a small, struggling living thing. Pulling more of her focus in, she directed a few of the atokirina' to examine the being, to determine whether she ought to attract the attention of one of her children to save it or whether she ought just to put it out of its misery, but...no, she shook her head, this wasn't just any fallen combatant, it was a tawtute, and not just any tawtute either, it was one she recognized from the memories of Jake and Grace that she had examined, and the poor thing was quite injured. Perhaps, though...hmm...
It was worth a try, she decided, although she would have to pick Grace's mind a bit to sort out exactly how she might manage this child of her sister. She was unfamiliar, after all, with just how they were put together, and she wouldn't want to make any mistakes. With a gentle command, she caused her Great Tree to send out neural tendrils, surrounding the tawtute and monitoring to ensure that life was sustained until she could consult with Grace. Which would have to wait just a short while, for she would not move on this until the battle was done and she was sure her attention could be put entirely on this new project.
As he landed with his precious burden, Mrrket looked around him and frowned. He knew there were healers here, but his people's encampment had been on the rim of the bowl, not within its center, and he hadn't been shown where exactly the healers were. he shifted the girl (he didn't even know her name yet, or what tribe she was born to or anything else about her, but for now that didn't matter) so that her arms were over his shoulders, which let him keep one hand between her legs to both hold her up and keep pressure on her wound as he dismounted and made his way quickly in amongst the people gathered at the base of Vitrautral.
There were a number of exclamations as people saw him, no doubt because he was carrying a bleeding woman, but one of those who saw him ran up to him, a woman with elaborate necklaces, he realized as he looked a little closer, and she put a hand to his arm to halt him.
"Where are you taking Peyral?" she asked, her eyes wide.
Peyral. Ah, that must be the beauty's name. "I was hoping to bring her to the healers," he said, "but I do not know where they are."
"I know," the woman nodded, turning to look at one of the males nearby. "I must take them to the healers, ma yawne," she said, frowning.
"Of course you must," her man nodded, "I'll be right here waiting for you to get back."
"Alright then," she flashed a brief, worried smile back to Mrrket, "follow me." She took off at a quick jog, and Mrrket followed, doing his best not to jostle his precious burden...not to jostle Peyral, he repeated her name to himself. Even her name was beautiful! It would roll off the tongue wonderfully, he thought as his eyes stayed focused on the tail of his guide as she wove them between encampments of people, heading for the area closest to Vitrautral.
His hand was starting to ache from holding it so tightly against Peyral's wound, but he would have held it longer if he had to. Blessedly, though, it wasn't necessary. He suddenly realized that his guide had stopped and that they were standing in the midst of an area of healing and someone had taken hold of his arm.
"We have bound above the wound," a sweet, grandmotherly-looking woman said, "you may set our tsmuke down now. Here there is a bed of soft moss for her."
"Irayo, ma Sa'nu," he nodded, carefully crouching to set her down. His legs and hand were sticky with her blood but he didn't care. He wasn't going to move until he knew for sure that she would be alright.
"I am called Tsenu," the healer said absently as she ran her hands quickly and efficiently over Peyral's body to check for other injuries. "Did you see what happened to her and how much blood she lost before you reached her? I do not like that she sleeps, it speaks to more blood loss than it would seem from what you and she wear."
"Oh! She sleeps because I used the sleeping-point on her," he shook his head, "I caught her as she fell from the sky, and this blood that you see is most of what she lost. The rest decorates the back of my ikran although I do not doubt she will soon cleanse herself of it. My mother is a healer and taught me enough to know that I had to bring her to you, but she was...unwilling to so easily give up the fight, so I was forced to take drastic measures to keep her with me on my ikran," he admitted.
"Ah," Tsenu nodded, "yes, that would be our Peyral. It is not easy for her to realize when she should rest herself, especially when she is defending those she loves. Perhaps it would be best if you wait here with her. She is likely to be...unruly when she wakes and finds I have forbidden her from returning to battle, and I am but an old healer woman, I do not have the strength to hold her."
"Of course I will wait," Mrrket nodded, "It would do little good if I caught her and brought her here to be healed, only to have her run back to the battle again before she is well!"
"I will wait also," the young woman who had guided him to the healers nodded, "I can perhaps scold her and remind her of her other duties to the clan besides fighting and dying for us. Especially now."
Mrrket hardly noticed the evaluating glance the young woman gave him, though. His mind was much more focused in watching the healers work to clean and explore Peyral's wound before they began to carefully seal it.
At least, Jake thought to himself as he rolled to a stop on the forest floor, he'd managed to hit most of the big leaves square-on this time, rather than getting tangled in vines and other things and flipped around as he fell. He was getting better at this. Heck, a few years from now he might even look as graceful as Neytiri. Hmm...Or maybe not, he chuckled to himself, there were some things a guy was just never meant to be, and graceful was one of them. At least, as far as he was concerned.
He rolled to his feet and ran a few steps, then gazed overhead to see the massive, burning hulk of the Dragon making its critically crippled way down from the sky. It was drifting in the direction that Jake was pretty sure held the link-mod, and that could be a very, very bad thing. Pausing just long enough to put himself to rights, he took off at a steady lope, heading for where the dragon looked most likely to crash-land. There was no way that, given the amount of time he had before the end came, Quaritch wouldn't have ditched somehow, and Jake knew that he still had one, final duty before the battle was over - he had to take the Colonel out, once and for all.
As Norm stormed through the thick brush on the forest floor, he could still feel the pain of the shots across his chest and down his left arm - the shoulder in which his avatar had been shot - but he couldn't focus on it. No, his only focus right now was to get to his avatar as fast as he could, to make sure that it stayed in one piece. He was beginning to reach the edge of the battle zone, and he'd run into a few retreating Na'vi here and there, and actually been challenged a couple of times, but he'd called out to them in their own language, telling them he was uniltìranyu, and they had let him pass. The one who stopped him fourth actually recognized him, though, and Norm recognized him in turn. It was Mo'met, one of the young men who had first invited him to ride with them.
"Why do you wear this strange tawtute body, Norrmspellman?" he asked, "it is dangerous to be among the people looking like one of the enemy."
"My uniltìrantokx has been injured, and I cannot wear it until its pain is less," Norm explained, "I am out here in this body because I need to find it and keep it safe, if it has not already been killed by some tawtute vrrtep."
"Pxasìk! It is not right that you should be without the body that lets you live among the People!" Mo'met swore, "Come, ride with me, I will keep you safe and get you more quickly to the place where your proper body rests so that you may make it safe until you can dream yourself into it again."
"I would be forever grateful for your help in this matter," Norm nodded politely.
"Then come, my pa'li managed to escape with me, and she is this way. You need not fear that we will be attacked," Mo'met added with a grin, "Eywa has come to our defence!"
As they ran together, their minds closely linked, Neytiri couldn't help but wonder at the complexity of the adult palulukan's thoughts. It had been obvious talking to Taka's children that palulukan were different from most of the "younger brothers", the animals, but her new connection just made that difference all the more obvious. He was not merely a highly efficient killing machine - although he was that - but he was also a being with a wicked sense of humour and some very strong morals...even if some of them made her just a little edgy to think too deeply on. His response to her memories of the fall of her home, for example, was sympathetic, but also derisive of the sawtute for "wasting so much good meat". To the palulukan, killing was for the purpose of eating, unless it was for the purpose of defence of territory, and even then, they did not kill one another in territorial disputes unless driven by absolute desperation. The strangest part, to her (although from a certain angle she could understand it) was that when one of these territorial killings occurred, it was considered "only good manners" to eat the loser. After all, he had put all his effort into staying alive, and it would be disrespectful to allow him to rot and be "eaten by the forest" unless he had been very sick.
All of a sudden, her new partner shuddered to a stop, all six legs planting themselves so firmly that Neytiri almost went over his head, and turned sharply to the left.
«What's the matter?» she asked, surprised at his change of direction.
«The Great Treemother says there is one in danger,» he said, «that your mate is in need of you, and that I am to carry you to where he sleeps.»
"Jhake?" Neytiri said, too startled to keep her conversation within her mind, «He is in danger? What's wrong?»
«She did not say, only that we must get there quickly,» The palulukan huffed, «so you had better hold on tightly. Now we will truly run!»
Neytiri hunkered down close and they took off, their speed remarkable as he seemed to almost flow over the ground, taking the path of least resistance in as straight a line as they could manage back toward ayVitraya Ramunong.
There was silence between them at first, as he concentrated intensely, but once he'd settled into something of a rhythm of running he relaxed enough that she began to hear his voice in her mind once again.
«I had not realized you were mated,» he said, and she felt his lowered sensory quills play across her back, «although I do smell/sense a male's scent from you, so I suppose it should not surprise me. Do Bluepeople also take only one mate?»
«We do,» Neytiri smiled a little as she thought of Jhake, «and I am only recently mated so perhaps that was why you couldn't tell.»
That got her an amused reaction. If he'd been one of the People, she thought, he would have been laughing just then. «Thank you for the excuse,» he said, «but no, I should have known. I suppose I just didn't think about it.»
«Do you have a mate?» Neytiri asked, politely turning the conversation from his small misstep.
«Me?» He honestly sounded surprised, then he made a chortling sound as he ran, «I am still a little too young, but there is one female whose scent/sense I follow closely where our territories overlap. Perhaps in another season I may try to convince her we would be well-matched and that our territories would be more efficient for hunting if they were combined. I will have to chose my timing carefully though, and bring plenty of food-gifts. She is most fierce!»
Neytiri was given a mental sense-picture of another palulukan, this one slightly smaller than the one she was presently partnered with, also young and smelling of robust health.
«To be mated is a wonderful thing,» she said, «I wish you the Great Mother's blessing in your mating quest, whenever you chose to undertake it.»
«I thank you,» he said politely, then he began to slow just a little, his passage through the forest becoming totally silent. «We draw close,» he warned, «you must be ready!»
Tom frowned. Something wasn't right, he knew it wasn't right! He could feel Jake's emotions now far stronger than he had before, clearly, Jake must be closer to them, and something was making Jake worry, no, more than worry, there was an edge of panic in the emotions Tom knew had to be coming from his brother. He looked around, trying to figure out where such emotions could be coming from, and that was when he saw it, just the last corner of the Dragon, burning as it slipped out of the sky, and, more concerning, the figure of an AMP suit dropping out of its belly.
Quaritch. It had to be Quaritch, and from where the ship had gone down, Tom knew it was close to the link-mod! He'd promised Ninat he would stay safe, that he would be waiting here for her when she got back from showing that Ikran clan hunter where to take the injured Peyral, but none of that would matter if Quaritch got to the link-mod unchallenged, and he knew Jake must be too far away to get there in time.
"I have to go," he said to Cathy and Antsu, "I...Quaritch is almost at the link-mod," he explained quickly. Only half an explanation, but the wide-eyed expression on Cathy's face told him she understood just how dangerous the situation was. "Jake's on his way, but somebody has to delay Quaritch long enough for him to get there, and it looks like that's going to have to be me."
Antsu frowned and looked at Cathy, then nodded. "I understand," he said, "but if you are hurt, then my sister's scolding will seem like a blessing when the rest of us are through with you."
Tom grinned. "I know," he said, "but that just means I'll have to make sure to stay in one piece. I just have to keep him distracted a little while, after all."
"Then take these," Antsu handed him bolas that were lying nearby. Tom wasn't sure who they belonged to, but he nodded. They would come in handy for sure, especially since he didn't have any other weapons at the moment. There hadn't been any need to leave him a gun besides the one inside the link-mod, after all. He was almost surprised Antsu had remembered the conversation they'd had one evening about some of the other cultures Tom had studied, and the fact that Tom had mentioned then that he'd learned how to use bolas from a Polynesian dancer.
"Thanks," Tom gripped his brother-in-law's hand hard, then got to his feet, the bolas dangling carefully from his right hand, and ran off quickly in the direction of the link-mod.
As Jody Nkumo looked around at the rather ragtag remnants of his troop he tried to keep his spirits up (and thus theirs as well) but it wasn't easy. They were clearly lost in the middle of the Pandoran jungle, and it wasn't likely that there would be rescue coming anytime soon. All they could do was keep moving and hope to God they were going in the right direction and that someone would find them. Well, someone who was inclined to listen before shooting and who understood enough English to know what "we surrender" means.
All of a sudden the air was filled with a low, chittering sound that almost reminded Jody of the buzzing of cicadas. It seemed to enter the whole body and discombobulate the brain. He looked around, trying to figure out where the noise was coming from, and saw three heads poking out from the bushes. Jody tried to figure out what they were, but even though the shape looked familiar he just couldn't get his mind wrapped around where he might have seen them before. Certainly not in the jungle itself, maybe a picture?
He was too busy trying to push through the mud in his brain to notice when one of the heads disappeared back into the jungle, but he certainly noticed when it came back, because the chittering stopped abruptly and a pair of Na'vi stepped into the clearing behind it. No, he realized, not two Na'vi, but a Na'vi and an avatar. Thank whatever gods were listening!
"We surrender! We surrender!" he said, quickly raising his hands above his head. "We're unarmed, just get us the hell out of here!"
The rest of the troop quickly followed suit, and the avatar chuckled, then said something in rapid-fire Na'vi to the native before turning back to Jody. "You're the one in charge here?" he asked.
"I am," Jody nodded, "Second Lieutenant Jody Nkumo, formerly of the Tanzania People's Defence Force, and wishing I'd never bothered with the damned RDA," he said, "Can you get us out of here somehow? All we want right now is to get back to the base."
"I can't make any promises," the avatar shook his head, "but if Eywa has already spared you then I'll do my best to convince Jake to send you back. For now, though, you'd better come with me. We'll set you up in a little internment camp and at least feed you until Jake can find the time to deal with you."
Jody nodded. He knew how these kind of things worked, you didn't make promises the commander might disagree with, and at least they would feed him and his men...er...troops. Collins was always so tetchy about it when he referred to her as one of his "men". "I understand," he said to the avatar, "right now we'd just be glad to have a safe place to sit down."
"That I can get you," the man smiled. "Sano," he said, looking down at the animal... Jody's eyes widened as he suddenly made the connection. The animals that had surrounded them were thanators! Obviously not full-grown, but still... "You and the girls make sure all these folks stay together, we're heading back to the tree."
The little thanator made a grumbly sort of noise and loped over to where the other two were now entering the clearing fully, and then Jody indicated to everyone that they were on the move. At least, he thought, they were safe from the rest of the jungle now. Nothing would dare attack three thanators, not even if they were babies!
Tom could hear Quaritch before he saw him, the creaking, squeaking joints of his AMP suit standing out among the more natural sounds of the forest around him, and this was what gave him probably the only advantage he had. He'd attached a long line to the handle of the bolas, and he knew that he had to make this throw carefully and correctly, or he was going to be out of the fight before it even started. He climbed up into a tree just on the edge of the clearing where the link-mod had been set, positioning himself on a footpath-wide branch near the trunk, and crouched down, beginning to swing the bolas.
He watched as Quaritch approached, and it was obvious the man hadn't noticed him yet. All his attention was on the link-mod, and he raised his gun toward it, no doubt figuring he could take out his main opponent with much less trouble this way.
Tom bit down on the automatic impulse to announce himself. Mom had taught them that in a fair fight it was only polite to announce yourself to your opponent, but in an unfair fight, it was more than alright to just attack first, to make the first move and take the advantage back in any way you could. He continued to swing the bolas as he got to his feet, then loosed them, grinning with pleasure as he watched them wrap around the gun. Wrapping the line around his hands as the startled Quaritch began to turn in his direction, he leapt backward off the branch, using it as a simple pulley to use his weight to yank the gun up and out of Quaritch's grip. Even better, as he landed in a low crouch he watched the gun flip upward as its momentum changed, smashing into the iron-hard trunk of the tree and falling to the ground, shattered.
"Well well well, if it isn't the other Sully," Quaritch growled, "come to disgrace your mother's memory again, boy?"
"No," Tom hissed, "I've come to honour it by taking out a piece of trash that's littering this planet." He gripped a loose rock that he'd noticed as he landed and stood. He knew he was going to have to keep taking the offensive if he was to delay Quaritch enough - and honestly, that's all he was doing here really, delaying the Colonel long enough for Jake to arrive - so with a harsh cry he ran forward, rock in hand, and vaulted up the body of the AMP suit, crouching on top and using the rock and all his strength to try to shatter the windshield.
'Come on, Jake, come on!' he chanted silently as he bashed at one side of the plex and then the other, ducking under Quaritch's giant metal hands again and again as the Colonel tried to throw him off.
He'd gotten in a few good hits, but the plex still wasn't shattering, when he all of a sudden felt what seemed like a lash of fire travel across his back and then he was being hurtled through the air toward the very tree he'd jumped down from. The impact must have knocked his avatar unconscious, because the next thing he was aware of was that he was awake inside his link bed. He briefly tried to force his consciousness back into the avatar, but the groggy/pain/ache feeling was more than his mind was willing to put up with, and he was immediately shunted back to the link bed again. Shit! It looked like he was going to have to do this in human form somehow.
He threw back the lid of the link unit and sat up, looking around quickly for anything he could use. he could see that Norm's bed was empty, and he worried briefly for his friend's health and well-being, but then he noted that one of the guns that had been left here for them was gone as well, and he knew that at least Norm wasn't out there unarmed. He hopped down out of the link bed and picked up the gun, slinging it crossways over his back so that he could grip the strap with his sling-hindered right arm, and opened the door to the back airlock. If he could get outside and get into a good position, he might just be able to take Quaritch out before he caused too much more damage, although Tom was very worried for his avatar. Only for a moment, though. Just as he was about to close the door and start the air exchange cycle, he heard Jake's voice ring out through the clearing.
"Give it up, Quaritch!" he heard his brother say, and Tom knew that with his usual impeccable timing, Jake had gotten there just at the right moment. Now all that was left was for the brothers to tag-team and take Quaritch out!
As the hiss of the air exchange stopped, the outer door unlatched with a heavy clunk, and Tom hurried outside. He figured his best bet was to see if he couldn't get up on top of the link-mod; from there he ought to have a clear shot. There was a ladder of sorts, but the rungs were very widely spaced, and Tom only had one really usable hand. Still, you do what you have to. Moving as fast as he could, Tom struggled to make the climb. He had to do this! Jake and everyone else were counting on him!
As he sat in the cab of the slash-cutter approaching the comms-ops tower, Max could see people running around like little ants. Whatever it was they were doing they clearly hadn't noticed him yet, and that was just perfect as far as he was concerned. They could stay busy as long as they wanted, they'd know he was there soon enough, when he sliced open the top of the place like a tin can!
He remembered Jaime had said his station was on the right-hand side of the room, so he made sure to head for the left-hand side (his right) as he drew in close. Ah. Now they'd started to notice. Too late, but they'd started to notice. He saw Selfridge standing in the window and raised a hand in the universal single-finger salute as he raised the arm of the slash-cutter. Time to do a little re-decorating!
The guards on the outside balcony dove for cover, although they kept their guns with them. It worried Max momentarily, but then he saw the first of the Avatars come running over, gun raised. Perfect timing! The screech of metal meeting metal was the sweetest song he'd ever heard as the rotating head of the slash-cutter sliced through the roof of the comms-ops tower, opening it up like a cheap tin can, and Max couldn't help laughing. This really was ridiculously cathartic! "Take that for all your grandstanding, you pernicious little weasel!" he chuckled as he opened up a gap big enough to drive through in the front bank of windows. He didn't want to actually kill anyone in there, of course, but he knew they were all well-trained, they'd have their exopaks and emergency rebreathers close at hand, and they'd be far too busy fussing with getting those on to concentrate on anything else, which would give the avatars time to get in there and make sure everyone was contained.
And there went the avatars, scaling the side of the building like it was just another climbing wall. Max felt a brief twinge of envy, but he shrugged it off. It was hardly his fault that his genetics weren't compatible with the avatar program, and he'd long since learned to live with it. Besides, if he'd been in an avatar, he wouldn't have fit in the cab of the slash-cutter, and this was tons of fun!
As he peered into the clearing where the link-mod rested Jake could see Quaritch in his AMP suit, knife-blade held high, about to drive a killing blow into Tom's unconscious avatar. His eyes narrowed and he felt a fresh surge of adrenaline (or whatever you called the Na'vi equivalent) flood his system. Fuck no, that wasn't going to happen! Not if Jake had anything to say about it!
"Give it up, Quaritch!" he called out as he leapt down from the tree he'd been crouching in, landing in a crouch before standing, "It's all over." He had to at least give the man a chance to back out. Not that he thought it was likely to happen. The Colonel had an absolutely raging level of testosterone, and even through the scratched glass of the AMP's cockpit Jake could see the deep level of crazy shining in his eyes.
"Nothin's over while I'm breathin'." Quaritch said firmly, and Jake flashed a feral grin.
"I kinda hoped you'd say that," he said, and ran toward him, picking up the bayonet portion of the AMP's gun that he could see lying on the ground in front of him like somebody had kindly placed it there for his very own use.
They faced off and battle quickly commenced, the bayonet and knife meeting again and again in a style more reminiscent of down and dirty street fighting than any kind of formal martial art. There was no graceful parry and riposte here, just brutal stabs and blocks, and while Quaritch might have the superior size, strength and reach in his AMP suit, Jake had agility on his side and it showed. Constantly he ducked under the Colonel's powerful but wild swings, dancing just outside his reach and darting in tor a quick jab or stab of his own. Finally, just as Quaritch was beginning to get a little too close for comfort, Jake managed, with a baseball-bat-like swing of the bayonet, to catch the blade of Quaritch's knife in the handle, and with a quick twist of his grip, snapped it off at the hilt.
Pressing his advantage, he darted to a nearby rock and launched himself into the air, stabbing the bayonet down straight through the windshield of the AMP although not, he quickly realized with disappointment, into Quaritch himself. He vaulted over the suit's head, evading Quaritch's attempt to grab him, then had to duck as Quaritch pulled the broken bayonet out and threw it in his direction.
"Come on!" he called out, dancing in front of the crippled suit as Quaritch paused to put on his exopak mask and jettison the shattered plex of the windshield.
"Hey Sully," Quaritch said darkly, "how's it feel to betray your own race?"
Jake didn't even grace that with any reply other than an angry hiss, but that said all that needed saying. 'It feels pretty damned good! You are so goin' down!' All of that was implicit in his fierce display.
"You think you're one of them?" Quaritch sneered, "Time to wake up!"
He turned and strode over toward the link-mod, and Jake's eyes went wide with alarm. Shit! If Quaritch pulled him out of link, this was all going to go to hell quicker than a hooker sliding down a greased pole.
Xander waved once more in thanks to the tower gunner who'd been watching their backs as they came around the corner just out of his line of sight and saw Max in his purloined slash-cutter. He watched as Mike and LeJun took out the gunners outside on the balcony, and a few of the others took out other guards stationed on the ground, then he, Nala and four others climbed up the side of the comms-ops tower to complete their objective of capturing it.
It almost reminded him of playing paintball with his brother and friends when they were kids, although, he reminded himself, if he actually shot the gun at anybody it was very likely they'd be killed rather than just bruised and covered in paint.
They jumped inside the massive hole Max had made for them, guns raised to the ceiling and high above human head level as he heard someone call out "Weapons up! Be ready!"
In a barrage of automatic weapons fire, the avatars swarmed into comms-ops, sending everyone diving for cover and ordering them to stay down and not move. Xander let the others take care of subduing the rest of the staff, and he and Nala pushed further in, looking for Selfridge. More than anything else, it was important to make sure they held him hostage. That way he wouldn't have time to send out any kind of damaging messages on the superluminal communications network that might have alerted the execs back on Earth to be on the lookout for the vitally important information Bailey was even now organizing to send out.
They found Selfridge behind his desk, cowering on the floor, and Xander thought it really was only fitting. His dad had always said bullies were the first ones to give up when things really came down to the wire, after all, and when you thought about it in some ways that really was all Selfridge was, a selfish little bully who just didn't understand how things worked here outside of his own scrounging efforts to dig up a bit of profit.
"Okay, stop shooting!" Selfridge whimpered, and Xander and Nala both trained their guns on him.
"Gimme a reason, prick," Xander growled. He might be a pacifist normally, but right now, knowing what this idiot had allowed to happen, he was more than willing to do a little damage. Not kill the man outright, no, but maybe a couple shots through a foot or hand might remind him where his priorities ought to lie.
No, though, he never got that reason. The prick just laid there on his back with his hands up. "Okay," he panted, giving up. Xander figured he'd just have to be satisfied with that for now.
«We are almost at the place where your mate rests,» the palulukan said, «and it seems all is not well. We should move quickly if we are to keep him alive for you.»
Neytiri agreed with the palulukan's assessment. They didn't have a moment to waste. She could smell/sense her mate through his senses, could smell/sense the desperation he was exuding from his pores, and as they approached through the trees she caught glimpses of him as well. He was fighting with a tawtute in one of their metal bodies, and he seemed to be struggling. He was thrown to the ground, and he seemed to be having a very hard time getting to his feet again. With every glance she got through the trees, the scene got worse. He was getting to his feet, then he was on the ground, then he was beginning to sit up, then the tawtute in his metal body - that vrrtep - had reached down and was lifting Jhake by his tswin!
She and the palulukan both had to resist the urge to roar in anger at such an abuse, and put that energy into a leap onto a rock instead, giving Neytiri a clear line of sight beside Jhake's hanging body. The tawtute was holding his own knife to his throat now, but Neytiri had to push her anger aside. To get a clear shot with such a tight angle and a small target, she needed to be utterly focused. She took in a deep breath and released the arrow, feeling a burst of relief as it struck home. The tawtute dropped Jhake in his shock, and Neytiri took the chance to get in closer, releasing her second arrow just to make sure the job was done.
Even before she saw the second arrow strike her target she was off the back of the palulukan and crouched over Jhake's unconscious body. She let out a possessive hiss as she watched the metal body fall, its occupant clearly now dead, then turned her attention back to her mate.
"Jhake!" she called, trying to get his attention, hoping beyond hope that he was alright!
Tom cursed vociferously as the link-mod rocked with Quaritch's blow, and he struggled to hold on with his one free arm. He debated briefly with himself as to whether he should continue his climb, since he was already almost at the top of the link-mod, or if he should try to quickly climb down and get inside to make sure Jake didn't suffocate.
He was about to climb up over the top and hope to be able to protect Jake once he had to unlink, but then he suddenly became aware of a sound off to the side. He was amazed he could hear anything over the blaring breach-alarm of the link-mod, but there was something... He turned his head to look, and saw something he never would have expected in a million years. There was a thanator, a palulukan, at the edge of the clearing, climbing up over a rock to gain height, and on its back... On its back, looking like some kind of avenging angel, there was Neytiri, her bow - her father's bow - drawn.
With a harsh cry, she released her first arrow, then a second as the linked pair, rider and mount, leapt down closer. Tom pulled himself up just high enough to see over the roof of the link-mod and swore. Quaritch, in his AMP suit, had fallen to the ground, obviously dead with a brace of giant arrows protruding from his chest, but Jake was unconscious, or rather, his avatar was empty, and he didn't look to be waking up.
"Jhake!" Neytiri called, shaking him, "Jhake!" and Tom knew there was no time to waste. Clearly Jake was suffocating, somehow unable to get to an exopak, and of course Neytiri didn't know what to do!
He swung down the side of the link-mod as quickly as he could, wincing in pain as he tried to grab hold with his injured arm and sent a wave of tingling up through his elbow before dropping the ten feet to the ground, tucking into the best approximation of a roll he could manage and running for the airlock. He only hoped he had enough time left!
Whew! *wipes brow* well that was a ride and a half! I wonder how many of you picked up the little hints about certain characters everyone's been worrying over ^_~ And those who do know my plans, shhhh, let everyone guess until the next chapter comes out XD
Now, go read Eywa's Grace! Well, right after you muddle through the...
Vocab:
palulukan - thanator
tìvawmtute - "person of darkness", the name my palulukan give themselves
toruk - great leonopteryx
uniltìranyu - "dreamwalker", avatar
tawtute / sawtute - "sky person/people", human(s)
atokirina' - seed of the sacred tree, messenger of Eywa
Vitrautral - Tree of Souls
yawne - beloved
tsmuke - sister
Irayo - thank you
Sa'nu - mom, affectionately (in this case Mrrket is using it to be politely deferent to Tsenu)
ikran - banshee
uniltìrantokx - "dreamwalker body", empty avatar
Pxasìk - "screw that!", "No way!", a fairly vulgar expression, as Na'vi goes. Yes, this is a Na'vi swear word ^_~
pa'li - direhorse
ayVitraya Ramunong - Well of Souls
vrrtep - demon
tswin - queue
XD Tomorrow I will post for your perusal the first chapter of "Eywa's Grace" Irony, you ought to enjoy that one!