Storm over Pandora

Started by Lehrrap Uniltìranyu, December 31, 2009, 08:10:08 PM

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He was at it again. Damien smiled as he jumped clear over a massive log, his strength augmented by the AMP. He could see flashes of blue in his peripheral, knowing they were the blueskins that had come along with him. But he didn't care. Well, maybe he did. Only because he was the one who was going to destroy that AMP, not the blueskins. They could deal with the footsoldiers, but the AMP...that was Damien's.

As he thundered through the forest, it occurred to Damien that two AMPs went down in the battle. That meant two extra guns. Damien smiled.

That meant more fun.

With that thought in his head, Damien continued onward, spurred by the hope of more guns.
If the colors that bind,
Were to unwind,
Would I still be safe,
Within my mind?


Never had Oscar felt so useless in his life before. His food had mostly been fed to him at the feast, that which hadn't been able to pick up with his tail. Every available minute, he'd been training, just to stay in shape, but his arms were still so useless, he had to stay behind, watching the others leave.

"Well, pxasìk." He saw the group of Na'vi leaving, all of them mounted. He started smiling. Ever since the crash, he'd felt slightly detached from his body again, but he figured he knew a way around that. He recalled those minutes of clarity, right before the crash of the gunship. He sprinted after the group.

Nef'tys had shown him a way of moving through the forest, that didn't require the use of your arms. It meant a lot more somersaults, and seemed really unorthodox, judging by the looks most Na'vi had given him, but it worked. Normally, he wasn't in synch enough with his own body to do that kind of stuff, let alone in a body that didn't feel his own. But he was running now.

Adrenaline was slowly seeping in to his system, bridging the gap between consciousness and body. He could see, hear and feel everything, while running, and before knowing it, he was up high in the trees, seeing the hunting party running in front of him. He wouldn't be able to fight, but he wasn't going to let them go alone.
Running was all he could do now.
And run he did.


Again, he felt useless, sitting on a branch while a few hundred meters away, 3 AMP suits were ripping up Na'vi. Okay, 2 AMP... wait... one AMP suit was fighting the Na'vi. He kept himself upright with his tail. He felt the adrenaline slowly draining away. The sky lost a bit of its color again, the world became more dull, once again. The fight in front of him was over.

The human party was defeated, stragglers were being taken care off. There was one of them right below him. He wondered if he ever looked above him, when he walked through the forest. He jumped down, fell for a few meters, and landed on the human with a low thud. He checked. Broken spine. Yup, dead.

He walked up on a ridge, and crouched. His arms were dead weight. He saw the good AMP killing a bunch of humans. He couldn't even remember the drivers name. He'd been so detached from himself, but yet so obsessed, that he hadn't realize how detached he'd become from the others. How long had it been since he'd had a conversation with one of the others. A real conversation. Some of them had come to check up on him, but he felt as if he was just an observer.

Like he was now. Hanging around near the edge of the battlefield. It reminded him of old hologames. He hated spectating, and now, he was forced to do so. The Na'vi party was on the move again. He followed them.
Speed is a ppoor sbubstitue fo accurancy

Check out my blogif my presence on this board isn't weird enough for you.


On the Trail:
The Jungles of Eywa'evenga
Battleground to the Tree of Souls

Sek'Mut surged his Pa'li ahead; fueled by anger that these puny Sawtute would dare to challenge the Na'vi en route to such a sacred place; enraged at the losses they had already inflicted and the disruption to their lives the alien interlopers had brought. He was also eager to vicariously --symbolically-- smash Arik, who bedeviled him personally while pursuing his sister. My sister! Sek'Mut's vision was red with frustration. Didn't she see that these people brought only destruction and pain?

No small part of him wanted Arik to see what a warrior he, himself was; to maybe earn some proper respect from the uniltìranyu. And oddly enough, a stray thought he shoved aside quickly, was that Ariel would be impressed by his warrior prowess and maybe she, too, would give him a little more respect.

Who cares for the feelings of a vrrtep?

All such thoughts were washed from his immediate concern as he rode up on the last man in the humans' retreating force. Leaping from his Pa'li, he sailed through the air, his mind full of grim satisfaction as the human noticed the shadow flying towards him and turned in time to see the Na'vi warrior leaping towards him. I am your Toruk, human! he thought as he impacted the man from behind and rolled with him across the forest floor. A couple of satisfying snaps were heard as the tiny alien's bones crumpled beneath his weight, and he rolled the man over --his mask had tumbled and he was already dying, blood bubbling from the corners of his mouth as he panted his last breaths-- but Sek'Mut brough his knife swiftly across the man's throat, nearly taking his victim's head cleanly off.

Too quick for the likes of you, he thought, as he whistled for his Pa'li as the rest of his riders rode on.

<<My blade tastes blood!>> Sek'Mut yelled as his warriors yipped and cheered. He faced the retreating line of humans and yelled at them, in 'ìnglìsì, "Fear me; I am the mighty warrior-nantang Toto! Run, you demons, run!"


Arik Shaham rode through the trees like a man on fire. He was one with his beast; he was one with the very wind of Eywa'evenga itself. As his Pa'li tore through the trees, easily avoiding the bramble and ragged floorbits of the wild jungle, he learned to trust the beast's footing as he kept it focused on the target-- the four retreating humans before them.

The Pa'li easily outpaced the humans and overpassed them; Arik wheeled his mount to the side and charged the first man, trampling him even as he tried --vainly-- to squeeze off a few panic shots towards Arik. The Avatar, for his part, ducked the shots while rolling from the side fo the Pa'li, breaking the Tsaheylu as he brought the M60 around and pointed it at the trampled body. He finger tightened into a squeeze --popopop-- and the body twitched as he made sure the man was finished.

The other RDA thugs had dove for cover, and were attempting to bound towards Arik in proper infantry fashion. But Arik knew the book as well as they did, and had the advantage in knowing that allies were thundering by on Pa'li all around him. The Pa'li trotted away from the alien scents and noises, and Arik squeezed a few rounds from the M60 into the general directions of the men as he charged towards the last known position of the nearest one.

"Get 'im! the man hollered as he backed away in fear, as Arik's ten-foot frame closed on him, the smoking barrel of the machingun angling towards him.

Bullets whizzed around Arik; he reflexively dove as soon as he saw the black voids of the barrels eyeing their ways towards him; by the time the muzzle-flashes blossomed and the angry hornets-sounds buzzed past his head he was already on the forest floor, ducking and rolling. He came up facing the man he'd closed on and instinctively swung the machinegun's buttstock towards the man's face, feeling the impact as the human's frail body was spun around and slumped to the dirt.

Arik uncorked a long burst towards the two remaining men as he rolled for cover, unconcerned with hitting them but hoping to make them flinch and throw off their aim enough to give him an advantage. He saw, from the corner of his eye, an AMP suit charge past and hoped it was Damien Cole, but he had no time to worry about it now. He popped up in front of one of the other men close enough to see the adrenaline-fueled mix of fear-anger in his eyes. He lashed out with a sideswipe blow of his forearm against the man's face and knocked him over as pain lanced his right shoulder, arm, and chest.

"Haaaggh!" he yelled. The third Security goon had given up on finesse and tactics and did what they trained you never to do: open up on full-auto in close-quarters. Bullets ripped gouts across Arik's blue flesh and he felt at least one pierce his shoulder and another lance off his back. He spun in place and kicked the man in the side, sending him reeling, but the other one was beginning to pick himself up and fumble with his rifle.

Arik's shoulder flamed in pain as he tried to raise the M60 again, but he couldn't get his arm to obey his command; it throbbed in agony as now, the second man, the one he'd kicked, started to come up as well. The rest of the Pa'li and the Na'vi warriors had already charged by, leaving Arik alone with a the humans.

"Couple --hhnnngh-- cracked ribs for sure," the man panted.
"Lookit this," the first one said, "Gots us one of them Avatars."
"A god-damned traitor," the second man said. "Get up!"

They were joined by a third man, this one wearing Corporal chevrons on his collar.
"we gotta get outta here!" the Corporal said, "We ain't got time for no prisoners. Smoke this traitorous b**** and move out!"


Oscar saw Arik, standing a few metres away. The adrenaline was back in the blink of an eye. He sprinted towards the first man, who was standing with his back to him and holding the assault rifle on Arik, and kicked him as hard as he could against the side of his head, breaking his neck, most of his face and exopack's mask and sending him flying. The second man, with the cracked ribs, stared with his mouth in an open 'O' of shock and the Corporal squeezed off a burst in Oscar's direction.

Oscar felt liquid fire run through his veins. He couldn't resist a smile as he just jumped on top of the second one, standing squarely on his chest and crushing his ribs. He somersaulted towards the third one, the Corporal who was panic-firing towards the great blue blur that was Oscar. For his part, Oscar came up and reached out, grabbing and holding him at arm's length.

"Yo, yo, yo!," Arik yelled, reaching back down for his dropped machinegun, "Whoah, there, Oscar-my-man!" He noticed an insane grin on Oscar's face. He reached over at grabbed the Corporal's assault rifle away and tossed it to the jungle floor.

Oscar realized what he was doing. For one, he was using his arms. On another note, he'd almost just pulled someone's head off. The man he was holding had a look of fear in his eyes, fear unlike any he'd ever seen. The man was deathly terrified of him. The adrenaline was flushed out of his system like he'd been showered with icewater. His arms went limp immediately. The man he was holding crumpled in to a small heap on the ground.

Oscar looked at his arms, and then at Arik.

"So, you back with us, or not?" Arik asked.
"I dunno," Oscar admitted, "I was just... just..." he looked at his arms and shook them a bit. "I mean, the feeling's coming back. I have that pins-and-needles thing going on. Look!" he said, his face lit up. His fingers were moving sligtly.

"Good man!" Arik said, noticing the Corporal stirring. He stepped forward as the Corporal rolled over, a big K-Bar knife in his hand, and spun, trying to bring the knife into Oscar's leg. Oscar jumped back, and the knife grazed his leg, drawing blood but making no serious damage.

Arik kicked the Corporal, hard, and his own anger flowed over him.
"God-dammit!" he yelled at the man, "I came here because I'm sick-" kick "-and tired--" kick "--of your god-damned stupid wars!" he screamed as he kicked the man a third time. By now, however, the Corporal was nothing more than a symbol of Arik's anger.

Arik panted, letting his emotions run out. He picked up the Corporal's assault rifle and handed it to Oscar, and the Avatar tried to grab it, but it just slid from his grasp and clattered to the ground.

"Well, that sucks," Arik muttered. "But, hey, we saw you using your arms. You're getting better."
"Better," Oscar said, as the sounds of fighting continued a few hundred meters away.
"Let's go," Arik said, "Sek'Mut will never let me live it down if I miss the last act."

"What it is with you guys?" Oscar asked.
"He's pissed I'm horning in on his sister," Arik said as they trudged through the foliage.
"That's his sister you're hanging around with?"
"Yeah," Arik said. "Back home we'd fight, then I'd buy him a beer, and it'd be cool. We'd watch the Super Bowl together."

"She's hot, man. Smokin'. And now he's hanging around Ariel," Oscar said.
"Someone's got a tiger by the tail, that's for sure," Arik replied.
"Which is which?" Oscar asked.
"Good question."

They topped a small rise and saw the last battle unfold beneath them.


The air was full of arrows. The RDA Security Operations guys were being whittled down like wheat before a scythe; a great blue scythe commanded by the warrior Tsu'Tey.

The chief warrior of the Omatikaya was in his element; a human pincushion went down before him as he struck the final blow to the struggling man with his knife. The forest floor seemed to sprout arrows as Na'vi warriors, many in trees or firing from Pa'li, fired into the routed squads of RDA goons.

From the ground, Chris glanced someone that looked like Eanataw, nocking an arrow and drawing back on her bowstring, but he didn't have time to make sure. He put a burst of fire into a Security man's chest at arm's length range and advanced through the kill zone with the Na'vi.

The archers were crack shots; even though the ambush field was full of Na'vi warriors wading through the carnage dispatching the wounded with bloody efficiency, they feared no friendly-fire mishaps from the excellent marksmanship of their brothers and sisters in the trees. The only one who seemed wholly unconcerned either way was Damien Cole, his AMP suit charging on the unarmed one that remained from the previous battle.

Chris was changing his weapon's magazine when a Security man threw a grenade. Chris ducked, barely getting behind a log as the explosive detonated nearby. The shock of air rushed around and enveloped him momentarily in angry sworls of dust, and when he got up his ears were still ringing, and he fired a burst towards the man who'd thrown the device-- but he was nowhere to be seen. Instead, the hulking shape of Damien Cole's AMP suit hovered in the sunlight where the man had been, the attacker himself a bloody clump on the forest floor. Chris and Damien exchanged looks, and Damien fixed him with a glare. Chris gave him a grin, and pantomimed throwing a bucket of water on the human.

The AMP suit mimicked Damien's movements and gave Chris a giant, bloody, metal middle finger before moving off to the next victim, the ting of an arrow echoing off the suit's metal leg as an errant shot from a Na'vi bounced off the device. Chris climbed over the log he'd hidden behind, feeling something scratch against his leg. He looked down and saw shiny bits of twisted, silver metal where the grenade fragments had embedded themselves in the wood.

"Huh," he said, and continued wading into the battleground next to Sek'Mut, Tsu'Tey, and Hanu.

For his part, Damien charged towards the last remaining AMP suit. The man piloting the suit had abandoned all pretense of discipline and was using the chaos of battle to make good his escape. Damien fired a 3-round burst from his GAU-19 at the retreating AMP, satisfied with seeing sparks fly from some of the more sensitive machinery that ran across the suit's "shoulders".

"Pesu sempu aynga!" Damien yelled, trying to remember what the psychotic little Na'vi chick said earlier that night at the arm-wrestling contest. Who's your daddy!

Sure enough, as the RDA suit vaulted over a small boulder, one of the arms blew a hydraulics line, spraying hot fluid all over and leaving the arms limp and useless. The AMP suit crumpled to the floor, but the driver was an expert handler and rolled back onto the suit's feet. Whoever it was took off at a dead run, away from the carnage. Damien charged after him, crashing through the underbrush like a rampaging elephant. He paused every so often to squeeze off a burst of 30mm, but with each pause the enemy suit got further away.

Damien charged, forgoing the gun entirely and determined to catch up. They ran far from the battle, and into a rocky area that emerged from the thick jungle canopy. The enemy AMP suit ran along an outcropping that followed a river punctuated by a gigantic waterfall. With a clear lane of fire, he raised the GAU-19 and fired, only to miss.

The enemy AMP suit spun, surprised that he was still being pursued. As he spun, the gyrostabilizers --damaged and slow to compensate-- lost control of the suit momentarily, and the machine missed its footing, stumbling back and plummeting from the cliff and into the raging waters below.

Damien Cole ran to the edge of the rock cliff and looked down, seeing the cockpit of the AMP suit rolling in and out of the whitewater as it was buffeted by the force of the river and the rocks in the stream. After two or three good rolls, the canopy glass was cracked and he could see the man inside, his panicked, terrified face outlined squarely in the cockpit as the machine poured over the edge of the waterfall, the useless arm flailing as if waving goodbye.

Cole stood there, his jaw set, his eyes narrowed to that point where the suit disappeared. Logic told him the suit was likely destroyed and the pilot with it, but experience told him that until he saw wreckage and a body with his own eyes, not to count anything out... but there was no way in a thousand years he'd be able to climb down the cliff face to check the kill. He walked to the edge and scanned for the target, but found nothing.

"Damn," he muttered, and turned to trudge back towards the battlefield.


The trees and brush parted, and the warriors who had stayed behind to guard Mo'at and the comatose bodies of Jax and Hun'nar coiled, ready to defend. But an ululating whistle went up as Tsu'Tey approached; the war party returned.

They straggled back, tired, some ragged and bloody, but victory written on their faces.

Arik groaned on the back of his Pa'li, blood running from his wounds and the excitement of battle worn off, allowing him to feel the wounds entirely. Ariel darted forward to Sek'Mut, as Tsu'Tey went to give his report to Mo'at and Grace. Most of them were on Pa'li, some walking, and Damien Cole with a dark look on his face in his battered and bloody AMP suit. Alex and Esme rushed over to check the suit as Damien insisted he was okay.

"Are you alright?" Ariel asked, eyes wide as Sek'Mut dismounted, stained in red.
"I am well," he said, his grin evident. "The blood, it is not of me."

"I'm fine," Arik said, wincing as he laughed.
"You're really hurt!" Ariel said as Grace also ran over.
"Come on, come to Mo'at," Grace said.
"There are others more beat up than me," Arik said. About a half-dozen Na'vi warriors were wounded, a couple bad enough to be carried, others limping on wounded legs, supported by comrades.

"Still, you need some healing," Grace said. "I have a trauma kit in my pack," she said, and went to the leather bag on her Pa'li. Arik hissed as she applied alcohol to clean the wounds, and then again as she used a tiny, human-sized tweezer to pluck bits of dirt and materiel from the open sores.

"Let's get you patched up," she said as Sek'Mut walked over.
"I took no less than eight human warriors today, Uniltìranyu," he said, his eyes flashing with challenge.
"I got a few myself," Arik said as Grace applied dressings to his wounds.
"But you do not know how many?" the Na'vi asked.

"Look dude," Arik said, "I took 'math for trees and rocks' and still struggled to maintain a 'D', okay? Next time I'll have the accountant keep a running tally," he said with a nod towards Ariel.
"Hey!" Ariel said, standing close to Sek'Mut. "I'm not an accountant!"

"Ach! Arik gasped as Grace pulled back a needle, a thread following along behind. "Could you have warned me?" he asked.
"Didn't seem manly," she replied.
"I'm in leather speedos, okay?" he said, "I gave up on 'manly'."

"Eltu si!" a voice cut through the assembled crowd. It was Mo'at, with Tsu'Tey beside her. "We now must continue! We have no time to lose!"
"Set rikx!" Tsu'Tey bellowed to his warriors, "Now move!" he repeated in English for the humans and Avatars' benefits.

Tired and weary, the traveling band remounted their Pa'lis and organized to move out once more.

Stragglers from human war party eliminated.
One --possibly-- got away in damaged AMP suit; not sure.

In Libertarianism, there is no Government, so the Bosses are free to exploit the Workers.
In Communism, there is no Government, so the Workers are free to exploit the Bosses.
So in Libertarianism, man exploits man, but in Communism, its the other way around!

Attempted to pee on Viperwolf to test reaction. Please see attached medical file.
WARNING: Attached medical file exceeds gigabyte limit. System failure.


Next Morning after Breakfast; Omatikaya Time

Nef'Tys wandered the fields on the outer edges of Kelutral, despondent. She'd wanted so badly to go to the Vitraya Ramunong! She had been so, so tempted to disobey and follow along, maybe... but she had returned to do as she had promised, to help Neytiri organize a defense of Kelutral in case the Sawtute came again.

She knew it was a joke; a joke to keep her busy. The olo'eyktan and Neytiri did not need her help arranging defenses, there were still plenty of warriors and hunters left for that. Nef'Tys had tried to volunteer to be a perimeter scout, but Neytiri had nixed that plan, as well. And it was always the same: not before you climb Iknimaya, little one.

She hated that!

She toyed with the idea of running after the Uniltirantokx and their party after all, but knew that Neytiri would rat her out the moment she realized Nef'Tys was missing. So she contended herself with wandering the edges of Omatikaya territory, telling herself she was a scout while in reality, avoiding the dull crush of duties that would be imposed on her back at camp-- mostly weaving, or cleaning game or cooking. If she was lucky. Usually, she got slug-grinding duties. Ew.

Nef'Tys therefore indulged her inner curiosity seeker, and wandered the territory, coming eventually to the crash site of Brokensword. She remembered her first visit to the site, following the smoke trails that reached to the sky, seeing the mangled body of the one she now knew as Jax, and the akotirina dancing in the breeze, only to land on the strangers that were in their midst.

She wandered the circle of burned foliage, wondering when Eywa would come to reclaim that which was hers. She saw the deep impressions in the soft ground made by the Sawtute shield-walkers that had visited the site to inspect the damage, to seek the bodies...  

A movement in the brush, far away, was not natural.

Nef'Tys froze in place, waititng to see what was happening; to analyze the movement and determine if whatever it was, was coming for her.

Satisfied she was unseen, she crouched low, ducking under the cover of the thick undergrowth, and darted into hiding behind a large tree. Again she waited, this time,listening. Quietly, she reached into the tree and pried her fingers into the gnarled bark, and, bracing her feet against the tree to provide suffient tension to grip the tree, she spider-walked up the great trunk and onto an outlying branch.

There, she took out her curved sickle-like knife and waited.

A group of warriors approached, stealthy, through the brush, towards the mangled hard skin of the Tawtute ikran-flyer, the kunsip. Nef'Tys did not recognize them, but she recognized something about them as she hugged the tree, ensconced in the shadows.

Their hair was lighter than that of the Omatikaya; a deep, rich brown rather than the black of a cave, and the stripes on their skin were pale, almost a creamy white instead of the light blue-tan of the Omatikaya and the surrounding tribes.  

They were not from nearby, but nonetheless, Nef'Tys had seen this pattern of colors before.

"Sawtute kunsip," the lead warrior said, <<They are here, nìhawng,>> he added grimly, poking at the wreckage with a large spear.
<<Is it too late, then, Ray'iun?>> another warrior asked. <<Have they poisoned this land already?>>

The warrior chief crouched, examining the wreckage, running his finger along it. It was the first time he'd touched one of the aliens' flying machines. He looked around. It was a strange land, but he trusted his instincts.

<<Others are here,>> he said. The rest of his warriors formed a ring, spears out. "Oel ngati faheusi!" he said, smiling as he called out an altered version of the traditional greeting. <<Kaltxì, or are you Tawtute?>> he called out, indicating the wreckage.

"Oe Tawtute ke," Nef'Tys called back, and most of the spears angled towards her voice. She raised her head and grinned at the strangers, then lowered herself by her arms and dropped to the ground in a crouch, ready to spring or run as she saw fit. "Kaltxì," she said calmly.

"Kaltxì," the one called Ray'iun repeated, more sincere this time. <<Who are you, young one?>>
"Oeru syaw fko Nef'Tys," she replied, "Fitsenge Omatikaya," she said carefully. <<Who are you?>>

"Oeru syaw fko Ray'iun, tsamsiyu ftu Na'vi Sengtsil," he replied.
"Sengtsil?" Nef'Tys asked, curious.
<<She does not know our tribe,>> one of the warriors said. Ray'iun nodded.
<<What do you seek?>> Nef'Tys asked.

<<Not what, but who,>> Ray'iun said. <<We seek one named Tseylian. You know her?>>
The look of surprise and confusion on Nef'Tys's face was genuine.
"Oe omun 'Tseylian' ke," she replied. She frowned, her mind racing. <<I saw one like you, though,>> she said, pointing to his hair, and to his stripes.

"Peseng!?" Ray'iun asked, unable to control his excitement.
Nef'Tys smiled, and pointed away from Kelutral, and away from the path towards Vitraya Ramunong. It went in the opposite direction, in fact, and as far as she knew, led to nowehere in particular.
<<Walking that way,>> Nef'Tys said. <<She stopped for food; we gave her nikt'chey. I remember, because that day I had found Harvest Fruit myself, and helped wrap nikt'chey for her. She pretend to eat it first, of course,>> she said, laughing.

<<She was healthy, then? In good spirits?>> Ray'iun asked.
<<Very,>> Nef'Tys said, <<Going fast, though.>>
<<How many days?>>
"Pukap," Nef'Tys said.

The warriors looked at one another. <<Let us go. Quickly!" Ray'iun said, and waved them on. "Irayo, irayo, Nef'Tys," he said as they charged away from Kelutral.

Nef'Tys smiled and waved. "Eywa ngahu," she said. As the brush closed around them, her smile faded, and her hand dropped to her side as her eyes narrowed on the path they'd taken.

What happens now? she asked herself, and she went back to Kelutral, her mind full of worry and her soul in knots.

Nef'Tys meets a pongu of unknown tsamiyu from a far-off tribe called "Sengtsil".
They ask her about a person they are searching for, a name she doesn't recognize, but she lies and sends them away.

In Libertarianism, there is no Government, so the Bosses are free to exploit the Workers.
In Communism, there is no Government, so the Workers are free to exploit the Bosses.
So in Libertarianism, man exploits man, but in Communism, its the other way around!

Attempted to pee on Viperwolf to test reaction. Please see attached medical file.
WARNING: Attached medical file exceeds gigabyte limit. System failure.

Lehrrap Uniltìranyu

Vitraya Ramunong
0012 HRS Tawtute Estimate
The Ceremony

The rest of the trip had gone quickly.

In order to save time, the two bodies were carefully put onto Pa'li, and they rode as fast as the wind could take them, with minimal harm to Jax and Hun'nar, their comotose bodies handled with great care as they made best speed to Vitrya Ramunong.

When they arrived, Grace gasped. "By Eywa... I need to remember to collect some samples before we leave..." She muttered.

Esme wistled. "F*** looking out over the forest doc... this is something you don't see everyday. That's one freaking BRIGHT tree."

Mo'at begain preparing with great haste. "<<Make haste my sons and daughters, Eywa's hour is upon us, the Ceremony must take place soon if Jax is to survive.>>" She said. Tsu'tey carried Hun'nar and layed him down at the what looked like a raised up Alter that was built in around the roots of Vitrya Ramunong.

Mo'at herself carried Jax's body, almost reverently, as she brought him over to the 'alter'. "Alex must remove his cloth coverings, in order for Eywa to connect to him." Mo'at said, looking over at Alex, who quickly moved to remove Jax's ripped up flight suit.

Once the suit was removed, Mo'at quickly explained what they must do. "Come togeather, Jax's family. Sit and pray to Eywa that he will return to us. He must pass though Eywa's eye to be returned. All that he is..." she waved her hands over his body, which was slowly being wrapped up by softly glowing roots from the tree that seemed to move into his skin, and then moved her hands to Hun'nar's body, "In this body. Pray now, for we shall begin!"

The world seemed to close in upon the crew and the Na'vi who had come with Mo'at and the crew as Mo'at begain to chant. The glow of Vitrya Ramunong got brighter as Mo'at chanted, the 'sprouted roots' now imbedded in both Jax's skin and Hun'nar's. The Na'vi started to join into the chant, a powerful prayer to Eywa for her blessing.

Time froze as the night sky lit up, Vitrya Ramunong glowing brightly as the roots begain to twist into themselves, wrapping out Hun'nar's queue before they slowly made their way up to Jax's neck, just at the base of the neck, and connected, the roots glowing almost a perfect white.

Jax's eyes lanced open, his breath loud. Mo'at stopped the chant and moved to him, followed closely by the crew. Grace leaned over Jax. "Jax, can you hear me?!" She said in alarm.
Jax's Mindscape
Unknown HRS

The world was swimming, visions twisting in and out of eachother. A girl he knew back on Earth that he was considering corting when he returned. His mom and dad, so proud of him to be a soldier and a pilot. His old Master Gunny, who was proud to have taught Jax everything he had known.

His own inner demons, taunting him and tearing at his flesh. The screams and crys of the damnned. The soothing voices of those past who found peace. The tortured cry of those who didn't.

And suddenly, the world lit up. He was in great pain, his body on fire and his eyes lanced open. The world swam before him, and he caught a look at Grace's Avatar and Mo'at looking down at him with conserend eyes.

But they swam away, vanished before his eyes, to be replaced by the powerful warrior that he could only have described as a goddess in his head.

She smiled at him and kissed him on the forhead. "<<You have done well... go now. It is time for you to be reborn... as one of the people.>>"

"E... Ey...wa?" He said, confused for a moment before there was another blinding flash of pain thought his body, and then darkness.
Jax's last word in his Human body was clear and strong. "E...Ey..wa?" Almost a question, almost a statement.

There was a soft breath, and then he stopped breathing, and his eyes fell away into nothingess, clouding over with the contours of death.

Mo'at removed his Exopack mask, letting Jax's last breath drift away into the Pandoran Sky.

"Now what? What's going to happen?" Arik said, looking over at Hun'nar.

"He must return to us by Eywa's will." Mo'at said softly, and leaned over Hun'nar and spoke soft words of power.

It was dark.

And quiet. Jax's wasn't expecting that. He wasn't expecting death to be quiet. He had seen it so many times, but the afterwards of it...

He didn't expect it to be so quiet.

Suddenly, sounds started to float towards him, and he felt... his body. Which was strange. He had just died. He couldn't be feeling anything, could he?

There was a light... it was bright, twisting before him like a techni-colored waterslide, and he fell away into it, before there was a bright flash... and he blinked.

His eyes opened to a strange sight, the world still floating in and out around him. Mo'at and Grace were hovering over him. Eywa had vanshied. Funny though... he didn't feel any pain, which was strange considering how many bones he had broken. There should have been plenty of pain... but if he wasn't feeling any pain, that would mean he was dead, right?

Jax took a breath, slowly closing and opening his eyes as the world returned to him. He wasn't dead. He was alive... but how? A soft mutter on the breeze swept past his ears, and he was just able to catch the wispered words before they left. "<<Welcome, my son, to the new world, to your new world. I see you.>>"

"Ta'em 'eko!!!"
"Better to have fought and died then never to have fought at all"
Bionic Arms and Pandora, The most read FanFic on! Read it here! -Shameless self promotion-


Tireamokri took up a place on the dais beside Mo'at.  She waited, following the Tsahìk's lead.  She was familiar with rituals, but only those of her own people.  She had never been to the Omatikaya Vitraya Ramunong, never climbed this Iknimaya the young ones obsessed over, but Aniuket had sketched a picture of it for her.  It looked so beautiful, the floating mountains, waterfalls cascading off of them and drifting into nothingness as the water was absorbed into the air.

And now here she was, standing beside the Tsahìk, for what must be a rare, if not never before tried, ritual.  The transfer of a Tawtute into the body of a Na'vi.  This must be as strange to them as it is to me, she thought.

Mo'at took up the chant, waving her arms over the bodies of the two beings on the altar.  After a few repetitions, Tireamokri chanted along.  There was a flash of memory, from the day that the atokirina' landed on all the Sawtute, Uniltìranyu and Sawtute-bodied alike.  She looked down at the bodies, chanting softly.

Something caught her eye.  A pattern.  She looked a little more closely.  The tendrils growing out of the roots, the ones that enveloped the two bodies, there, just over Jax's heart, the tendrils had formed the shape of an atokirina'.  She blinked.  The pattern was gone.  But she had seen it.  Eywa had given another sign.

Tireamokri chanted louder, more fervently.

Then Jax opened his eyes.

The chant grew quiet.  Tireamokri waited.  Some of the Sawtute were screaming in their strange, nasal language.  They looked frightened.  They are truly smuktu, she thought.  Just like we Na'vi are smuktu.  Eywa, this is something you wanted me to see.  Oel fi'uti kameie.  I See this thing.

As if in reply to her thoughts, Jax murmured the name of Eywa.

"Srane, Eywa," she whispered in reply.

There was a pause, and even the wind seemed still.  Time itself waited a moment.  Everyone's thoughts were with Jax and Hun'nar.  But they all knew that it was Eywa who would choose.

And then Hun'nar-- Jax, now-- opened his eyes.
Fitseng lu oe, tìftia kìfkeyä seri.


Midnight at the Tree of Souls
Vitraya Ramunong

It was Arik's own secret that, while he was amazed and overawed at the sheer physical beauty of the Vitraya Ramunong, he was quietly disappointed in the effects of the Tsaheylu bond with it-- at first.

After his amazing experience with the strength and majesty of the bond he had with the Pa'li, the Tsaheylu made with Vitraya Ramunong was... sedate. Businesslike. It had not occurred to him that as much as he was eager to make the bond with the Vitraya Ramunong, the great Tree was as curious to look into his own mind, and see what it found.

The Uniltarontokx were optimistic hopes for Eywa. They were also largely unknown quantities. What are their intentions, really? It wasn't until they made Tsaheylu with the Tree of Souls that Eywa had the opportunity to finally look into their minds and see their sincerity --to pass her test, as it were.

Her approval was pivotal, and when it came... beautiful.

The swirling vortex of beauty, warmth, and acceptance flowed through Arik once the transfer was complete. It enveloped him as surely as a warm blanket enveloped and comforted on a cold night; it was falling into a velvety cushion with a vast consciousness, a multi-layered entity swarming of different consciousnesses and acceptance of his own, new, alien thoughts in their midst. Arik no longer studied the rock of Eywa'evenga, he could be the rocks, as surely as he could be the flying creatures that soared over the canopy of jungle; the beasts that dwelled and hunted within it; the insects that swarmed within the earthy crust of skin that enfolded Eywa-- and the people that lived among all the great beauty.

More than anything else, Arik sought to be a part of it. He felt connected to the people, the essense of Eywa'evenga itself, and he even felt the minds of his alien companions, equally awed. He felt like he finally understood the Omatikaya, Aniuket, saw Sek'Mut not as an adversary but as someone who wanted so desperately to protect his sister from harm, someone who feared the Sawtute for ripping the bosom of their world so cruelly, and wanted Aniuket to not meet the same fate...

And he could feel it fading. It was time to come back.

It was time to go back home, to the physical essense of the Eywa'evenga, and to leave the dreamland state.

The transfer of mind and consciousness was complete, as far as the People were concerned; now it was solely the realm of Jax, Hun'nar, and Eywa. The Tsaheylu was broken, and Arik slumped, exhausted and overwhelmed.

He tried to rise to his feet, but shook; a hand helped him and he looked up to see the yellow eyes of Tireamokri gazing at him in smiling acceptance. He took her help and stood, unsteadily, and inhaled a vast lungful of Eywa's air.

"It is beautiful," was all he could say, his voice cracking. Someone was crying softly, he knew not who (Grace? Ariel?); not the tears of sadness but of awe --maybe some small sadness at having to leave the realm of Eywa-- but others were staggering to their feet as well. He briefly locked eyes with Sek'Mut, who's face was still stern and protective, but did not hold the hostility it had before.

"We will need to rest," Arik said, "Here and... back there..." He and the other Avatars were exhausted, and their normal bodies needed to rest as well, and get caught up on events back at Hell's Gtae. Tireamokri left him to see Jax and Hun'nar. She whispered something, and sat up, as Jax/Hun'nar opened his eyes.

Arik feels overwhelming acceptance by Eywa.
Comes to feel a greater sense of kinship and understanding of the Na'vi, both in general and specific people.

***   ***   ***   ***   ***   ***

Hell's Gate Cafeteria: "Hell's Kitchen"
0700 Hours

It had dawned on Na'ama that she had dodged a bullet-- perhaps literally.

When the announcement had gone out that the Na'vi were attacking the base, and for everyone to go into the protected areas of Hell's Gate, Na'ama had... creatively interpreted her orders and gone not to her quarters, but to the warehouse where she'd hidden, telling anyone who found her she was doing "an inventory".

She later found out that, in the chaos, not only had the Director been killed, but several people who were considered to be enemies to Dr. Childs had been hustled out of their quarters by RDA SecOps goons and taken outside, many to be shot with arrows. Na'ama had no ida if she was on that list, but she felt that with her brother being considered one of the rebels, and an instigator, she was certainly not on anyone's good side.

Her roommate Liz had disappeared as well, sometime after seeing her last in the library. Julia seemed to be okay, but Na'ama played it safe and avoided her as much as she could. She returned to her room to pack what few remaining belongings she had and stowed them in her storage room hide-out. She didn't know if Julia was considered to be a supporter of Childs, or if Julia was simply seen as harmless-- but either way, Na'ama wanted to play it safe and not get the other woman in jeopardy by being sighted.

And so Na'ama had entered a strange realm of existence and non-existence. She put her hair up and wore baggy work overalls that she'd liberated from the storage room, carried a clipboard around, sometimes wore a hard hat, even, and blended in as best she could. She never used her key card, but waited, pretending to be busy, until someone used a door she need, then darted in with them. But most of the time she stayed in the public and general service areas where no key card was needed.  

Today, she met with Trudy Chacon in the cafeteria.

"Quaritch told us today that people have been stealing supplies," the helo pilot said, "Childs is up a tree with rage; Quaritch has been sending out patrols. Has anyone given you trouble?"
"No," Na'ama replied, "But I've noticed an increased SecOps presence everywhere. People are getting nervous. I hear people whispering that they have heard of rebels outside the wire, and collaborators in Hell's Gate," she said with a wisp of a smile.
"The irony," Trudy said. "You still got your gun, right?"
"yeah," Na'ama said, "I never thought I'd say this, but I'm kinda glad of it."

"Just be careful," Trudy said, "I wouldn't be surprised if they start doing searches of people here."
"That'll raise questions," Na'ama said. "People are questioning the 'chemical spill' in the drive pod room, too."

"Yeah..." the pilot said. "So far I've played along. They think I'm on the team, you know? But we may need to come up with an escape plan of some sort. What have you been doing?"
"Hiding in plain sight," Na'ama said. "They have me doing inventories. Since that was what they caught me doing that first day of the crisis, they just have me pegged. Now I'm as busy as ever, what with the reports of theft."

"Inventories, huh?" Trudy said, "So if something comes up missing..."
"I've been... creatively under-reporting many items that we might need," Na'ama said. "Food, water... I've reported several things as 'already stolen' so that my job becomes more important, and meanwhile I set things aside that may be useful."

"That's damn dangerous!" Trudy said. "Be careful with that. If someone finds the stuff you've been stockpiling..."
"Then we found the secret rebel stockpile and I gladly return the items," Na'ama said. "We can't stay here forever and pretend things aren't happening, Trudy. At some point, we have to break out."

"Have you been doing the same thing with weapons and ammo?" Trudy asked.
"No, as a civilian, I'm not allowed near that stuff," Na'ama said. "SecOps guys inventory that stuff, and they do it in teams now, since they seem to think that it is one of the SecOps guys that is secretly a rebel agent."
"Yeah, because of that AMP suit..." Trudy said. "So what do you inventory today? Anything useful?"

"As a matter of fact," Na'ama said, "Today the mining warehouse." She checked her clipboard. "Drill bits, bucket replacements... blah, blah, bah... ohhh, wait," she said, looking up and smiling. "Look at that. Mining charges. Explosive mining charges for busting up rock."

Trudy Chacon smiled. "I have an idea..." she said...

Na'ama hides in plain sight and inventories items.
Trudy Chacon hides as an RDA/Dr. Childs loyalist while secretly supplying inside information to Na'ama.
Plan is hatched when Na'ama has the opportunity to get ahold of explosive mining charges.

***   ***   ***   ***   ***   ***

Late Morning

Nef'Tys wandered the tribal compound area, despondent. What have I done? she asked herself. She had known, somewhere, that it was only a matter of time. Sometime, somehow, it would end.

Maybe they weren't even here for her at all, Nef'Tys tried to comfort herself. They asked for another... what was the name? Tseylian? Could it be a coincidence?

She sighed. She knew better.

Maybe she wants to go home, Nef'Tys thought. Maybe she's lonely. Maybe she misses her people. Maybe... She stopped and looked around; she looked around Kelutral, at her people, the Omatikaya, and imagined being away from them for a whole season, or longer. I'd want to go home.

Nef'Tys went to the visitors' platform and hid among the stacks of Sawtute supplies. The big box that the shield-walker had brought was there, and formed an excellent hiding place as Nef'Tys curled into a small ball and quietly let tears run from her eyes.


Nef'Tys battles with her conscience about her lie.

In Libertarianism, there is no Government, so the Bosses are free to exploit the Workers.
In Communism, there is no Government, so the Workers are free to exploit the Bosses.
So in Libertarianism, man exploits man, but in Communism, its the other way around!

Attempted to pee on Viperwolf to test reaction. Please see attached medical file.
WARNING: Attached medical file exceeds gigabyte limit. System failure.

Hawnu UnilTxep


Eanataw looked over the canopy of ayutral from the top of Kelutral.  She flared her nose slightly, taking in all the scents, her eyes closing softly.  Below, she could smell the txep and the ikran that was cooked upon it.  She could smell the fresh cut of the plants, making the feast for the evening.  

A sound behind her made her stir, and she set into a crouch, turning to see what made the noise.  She arched her body slightly, weaving towards the right to see.  It was Sek'mut, and she opened her mouth to yip, but then she saw Ariel behind him, and she closed it quickly, her eyes narrowing in curiosity.  He didn't look very happy...  She listened to the exchange carefully, keeping in a crouch and creeping closer to them, but staying out of their sight.  She noticed that Ariel looked different-- she was out of her sawtute clothes.  She wore purple beading... which suited her.  Eanataw nodded to herself.  Srane, it was good on her.

The atmosphere changed quickly, and, assured that they were both safe, she headed back to the common area, dropping to the floor and entrance below the pair and then heading down inside Kelutral.  Her eyes searched for Chris, her Chris, but she did not spot him right away.  Her eyebrows furrowed, and she made her way out of Kelutral, her eyes studying each of the Na'vi, but not finding him.

She leaped into the forest, following her instinct to the edge of a clearing, finding nothing.  She grunts softly, then makes her way to the next, to the west.  There, she finds a figure, blue, tall, familiar.  She squints her eyes towards him, then grins.  Yes, that is her Chris.

She walks closer to the edge of the clearing, smiling, and saying his name.  He turns and sees her, and immediately is there in front of her, wrapping his arms around her in a embrace of relief.  She hugged him back, noticing that her hands and arms touched his skin, bare.  Her breath caught for those few seconds, her eyes closed, and she took a deep breath of him in.  He smelled half of sawtute, of death, and half of Na'vi.  Then they pulled apart, but stayed close.  She tried to keep her eyes on his, but knew they wandered, taking him in.

"It's been too long since I've spoken with you, and I regret that. Oeyä sap'alute ma Eanataw," he said to her, and she returned her eyes to his.  Relief flooded through her.

"It all is well ma Chris. You have been busy and worried for your tsmukan, with good reason."  She spoke softly, but happily.  Then she resumed looking him over, taking a step back to see him more clearly.  His muscles, that had been mostly hidden before, were clearly defined.  Some dew and rain had settled on his blue skin, and she noticed it with a smile.  He wore Na'vi clothing now, and her eyes followed the line with interest... but her looking was cut short.

"What...?" He says, almost whispers, and then smiles.  She smiles back.

"You. You you say it..."  She pondered in her vocabulary for a work set to describe him, but found none.

"Handsome?" He offered, a sly look on his face.

"Well..." she said, looking him over again, "srane."  Then she let her eyes drop to the ground, noticing his bare feet and biting her lip lightly.  She didn't know what to say.  She knew this wasn't allowed, wasn't supposed to be, and at the same time, she didn't care.  What her brother thought, she didn't care right then.  Then she felt his fingers under her chin, lifting it up so he could look at her again.  The touch, so light, seemed to fade in the light of his eyes, and she was entranced, their eyes locked... it was intense.  She was hoping he felt the same... but now she knew.  She knew now that he shared her feelings.


He rode with her on the Pa'li as they set off to give his tsmukan a new body.  She was uncomfortable with riding the beast, and shifted uneasily.  Chris had tsaheylu with the Pa'li, and though she trusted him, she didn't want him going off while she rode her ikran.  It made her uneasy for some reason.  So she let him drag her onto the beast in front of him.  He had an arm wrapped around her waist, which she had looked at him with a strange look about, but he had just smiled lightly and refused to move it... not that she had tried very hard to begin with.

Their weapons-- her tsko swizaw and his kun -- were in a pack slung on the back of the Pa'li... along with provisions, and some other things that he had packed.

The road was long, but she occupied herself on jumpstarting him on his Na'vi.  His pronunciation wasn't that great, but at least he caught on to the accent quick enough...a little.

She followed the war party in the trees, her tsko swizaw in her hands, taking out the sawtute easily.  She grinned to herself as she saw the tawtute in that big suit, Dam-ee-an, take out the sawtute easily.  She stayed in the trees, covering for Chris, though he didn't need much.  She made sure that no one snuck up on him, at least.  
He went with the group to knock out the stragglers, on the Pa'li, and she frowned, but followed, keeping out of sight and in the trees.  Her eyes locked on the sawtute with disgust, and aimed her tsko on them without remorse.


At the Tree of Souls, she sat with her Chris, their fingers intertwined as he watched his tsmukan gain a new life, a new body.

Please PM me if you are still interested in the real Na'vi tribe.


Damien sat in the cold shadows of a small cliff overlooking the Tree of Souls. The wounded pilot was situated before the bright tree, along with another blueskin body. Everyone was chanting, singing in time. Their bodies swayed, joined together by their arms. Their voices rang in time around the small clearing, echoing up to the rock-arches above them. He could feel his skin vibrate with the combined power of the song.

Damien let the song bring him back, take him back. Back to the, before that. Before the battle, though he wanted to stay. He let that AMP get away. He should have kept firing, even as it fell. He should have...

But he wasn't at the battle anymore. No, he was far before it. Days, months, years...all flashed before him in a matter of seconds. He could feel the desert heat again. He could feel the gun in his hands, rocking back and forth as hot lead was ejected from it's barrel. He could feel the three rounds imbedded in his side, the wounds leaking blood...

(This part is a little gory. If you don't want to read it, skip this part and read below. I understand.)

Everything stopped. The chanting, the singing, the voices. They were gone. No one moved, no one breathed. All were watching the platform in front of the tree. Damien shuffled forwards, watching from the small, shaded spot. He didn't breathe. He didn't want to. It didn't seem right.
If the colors that bind,
Were to unwind,
Would I still be safe,
Within my mind?

Lehrrap Uniltìranyu

The Tree of Souls
0122 HRS

The world started to cycle back to Jax as he blinked a few more times, trying to regain his barings. He was... alive? No, that couldn't be right.

"Jax, can you hear me? Respond to me Marine, come on, we didn't haul your sorry broken-ass down here just to have you die on us now." Grace said.

"Easy on the english language doc, you're butchering it so badly that not even this sorry ass Jarhead of a Marine can understand you." Jax muttered, closing his eyes and feeling his ears fold so he could make all the sound and sight go away for a few moments. It was so bright... too bright. He wasn't ready for the assault on his senses.

Jax could still hear Grace talking to him, and he listened only slighty. "Jax, how you feeling? Glad to hear that you know how to talk and can hear what we are saying..."

Jax scoffed a bit. "Doc, come on, it's only... like, o' dark thirty. I'm not on flight duty right now, but I guess if you got a psych degree, I've got one HELL of a dream that I should tell you about. I got shot out of the sky by the dumbass ork from the hanger, the bastard chortling in my ear the entire time... You and the crew were in the dream too. You guys had to jump to escape Brokensword. Good thing that I had packed the extra Jump Packs... I need to double check that with Alex when we get back to the hanger later..."

Jax knew that he was trying to ingnore what was really going on, somewhere deep in the back of his mind. Maybe if he ignored it, he would wake up and it was all just a dream.


"Anyway, you guys jumped and I got shot down and... I died! Kind of... well, not really, but I broke quite a few bones. It was so close to being real... hurt like hell too. The dream kinda fluxed in and out from there. Nightmares, peaceful moments... heh, I could even swear that I saw Eywa, you know, the Na'vi Goddess you told me about? She was this... well, I don't know how to describe her, her face kept... changing... but anyway, you guys were working out a way to fix me up... and suddenly, I was below this giant tree and there was a flash of pain... and now I woke up.

Jax was rabling now. Everything he was trying to ignore was honing in on him. His sense could tell that he wasn't laying in the cot back in Hell's Gate, the glow from the lights wasn't bright enough to be the floresences that they used, and he felt... weird. It was odd, it was like one of his fingers was missing.

"Jax... please, don't do this. It's not a dream." Grace said softly.

Jax closed his eyes harder. "Please doc... don't say that. No no no no no nooooo..."

Jax was afraid to open his eyes, afraid of what he would see.

"Jax... Damn it marine, sit the hell up and open your eyes. It's time to wake up, and you're defently not in Kansas anymore." Grace said, glaring at Jax.

Jax almost broke down, right then, as he slowly opened his eyes and sat up, afraid that he knew what he was about to see.

Grace was looking at him carefully, along with the rest of the crew and the Na'vi who had come along with them. Jax pushed himself up, lean muscle responding quickly, that nano-second timing of a pilot easly helping him along as he sat up, looking around anywhere but down, afraid of what he would see.

Long, glowing green cords connected to him, all across his body. He felt... full. Protected. He didn't know why, but he felt like there was something looking though him as he sat up.

He knew he couldn't ignore it forever, the feeling that he was getting telling him to look back behind him. What he saw shocked him and he stifled a cry of agony at what he saw, feeling tears spring to his eyes.

It was him, the him he had always known, his body, broken and crippled, filled with the dark palor of death. The color had already drained away from his skin, and his eyes were still open, clouded over. "No... no no no no no no no no nononono no..." Jax muttered, his hands flicking up before him. His skin was a darker blue, not super dark, but more like the color his eyes had been, deep and full of variations of blue. He had four fingers, and he could now feel a long braid moving down his back as he moved around. He felt about the same hight as he had been before, but still...

A soft sob escaped Jax's lips as he turned, standing up, causing the green cords to remove themselves from his body and his quene as he moved over to his body, and tried to understand what this ment.

Mo'at moved over to Jax's old body and gently closed each eyelid with a careful hand. "<<What was given by Eywa... is returned to Eywa.>>" She said. She looked over at Jax, who was trying so hard not to break down as he looked at his body.

"Rejoice, Tawtute... no, Na'vi. Eywa has blessed you and you have been returned to us, whole as you once were. You have been reborn." Mo'at said softly, looking at Jax.

Jax looked back, tears starting to freely flow from his eyes as he looked at Mo'at and his body. "Why... why me?" He muttered.

He heard words of comfort, words of his friends and companions who had worked so hard to save him, but all he could hear was the dark mutterings and the laughing of his demons in his ear. "Poor James Logain! So close to finally letting go and is dragged back by his leg!!!"

Jax looked around, his fear, confusion, and sadness suddenly being replaced by rage. He knew it was wrong, but he needed to let go, and crew was the closest thing to him. "You caused this... DAMN IT!" He roared, and slammed a curled fist against the Alter and pointed wildly. "I WAS READY! I WAS FINALLY GOING TO BE ABLE TO RID MYSELF OF MY BURDENS! WHY DID YOU SAVE ME DAMN IT?!?" He yelled, his tail lashing out in agitation as he glared at the crew.

Arik tried to console him. "Jax, calm down! You're one of the most importent people around! Beyond your skill as a pilot, you know Hell's Gate just as well as any of us and as a pilot, you know all the importent hardpoints on a Gunship! Not only that, but don't you want revenge?!? Against Childs? He caused this! He killed you Jax!"

"BUT I WANTED TO DIE!" Jax roared. "IF I HAD DIED, THEN I COULD HAVE AT LEAST LET GO OF EVERYTHING THAT HAD BEEN KILLING ME FOR SO LONG ANYWAY!" His eyes were wild as he let out his rage at the crew, who were all reacting with various emotions and words.

Jax wanted to hit something, but he just didn't have the will anymore. He fell to his knees, and cried, his body just collapsing in on itself, his tail loosing all strength and just falling limp to the ground as he wailed in anguish, not caring who saw. He had died that day, been saved when he wanted to let go, and now lost in a world in which he hadn't belonged in the first place, lost to two worlds.

His mind raced as he cried, which gave him more to cry for. He had died. He had lost his ability to ever go home again. He was never going to see his parents again, and his promise to come home, safely or otherwise, would never happen. The body of James 'Jax' Logain would be buryed or burned here, on Pandora, and he would never see Earth again.

As he cried, he felt like the dream was crushing him again, the world falling down upon his shoulders, the hand from his dream pushing him down farther and farther as he let it all go.

But at the same moment, a kind of acceptance rose up in Jax, though he didn't know it yet. He may have died, but the one who had died was not Jax, but a young, upstanding Marine Helo pilot by the name of James Logain, who had dreamed of flying.

But James Logain had made a mistake, and like many before him, had tried to fly to close to the sun, and had been shot downa and died. In his place stood a young... Na'vi boy, who was known as Jax.

None of that mattered to Jax just yet. Right now, it was time to morn, for all he had lost, and all he had failed to keep.

"Ta'em 'eko!!!"
"Better to have fought and died then never to have fought at all"
Bionic Arms and Pandora, The most read FanFic on! Read it here! -Shameless self promotion-

Kiyoshi Tenshi

Mil'Ani frowned. Why was Jax so upset? He should be happy...but why wasn't he? Humans were strange. He felt like he would never understand them.

Then someone put a hand on his shoulder, and Mil'Ani looked up to see his brother.

"He is in pain, Mil'Ani," said his brother softly. "He regrets the human life he has left behind...why, though, I am not sure."

Mil'Ani frowned. "But if he had remained human, he would have died..."

His brother nodded, his gaze fixed on Jax. "It seems to me he wanted to die."


Vitraya Ramunong
After the Ceremony

Chris was appalled. After everything they had been through, after everything they had risked to save Jax, here he was being an ungrateful slob in front of everyone who had risked their lives for him. He took three short steps and punched Jax in the face.

"Dangit Jax! Do you have any idea what these people risked for you? What they've given up? There are people who aren't standing here right now because they paid down their own lives for your safety! We all know you've had a troubled past, but for the love of God let it go! We're living in the present now, and sometimes you've got to learn to bury the past. That past can die with James Logain, but that's your choice, not ours. Listen bro, there are people who are counting on you. We didn't come all this way to be rejected by one of our brothers. You're not a quitter, I know it. You would have died long ago if you weren't a fighter. So man-up laddie buck, because like it or not, you're stuck with us."

And with that, he sat back down.


Lehrrap Uniltìranyu

The Tree of Souls
After the Ceremony

Jax bearly felt the punch from Chris. The shock and pain from discovering that he had died was already too much to noice much else, but in any case, it was a wakeup call.

"They helped me... they could have let me die, they really could have, but they didn't just help me, they SAVED me." Jax thought. He took a shuttering breath and attempted to calm himself down enough to be rational. Just for a moment, at least.

He looked around and took a deep beath. He realised that he wasn't hearing the akward hissing sound of a Exopack, and took a quick glance at himself.

He was indeed Na'vi. He must have been a adolencent, because he was... short. He was the same deep-blue across his body, but he had these almost shining light-blue stripes that ran across his arms, legs, and torso.

He was also lit up like a christmas tree, which he would have chuckled about, but didn't feel like laughing just yet.

Jax pushed himself to his feet and looked over at Mo'at and the Na'vi warriors. He didn't quite know what to say, so instead he just bowed his head and said the one Na'vi word that he had really learned quickly. "Irayo."

Mo'at nodded at him, though Tsu'tey snorted at him and turned away. Jax supposed that was pretty accuret. Jax had just made a bit of a fool of himself.

He turned back to the rest of the crew and forced a bit of a smile. "Sorry." He muttered and shook his head before he walked over to Chris and let out a punch of his own, though it probobly wasn't as strong as his old punch, but he figured it would do the job.

"That's for the punch." Jax said, and then shook his head, "But I owe you one for the reminder that I'm not some sad-sack son-of-a-b**** that needs to stop feeling sorry for himself."

Jax knew that he was lieing, but he also know that he was putting up the facade quite well. He would think about it later, and he would cry, but not now, not when he needed to be strong.

"Ta'em 'eko!!!"
"Better to have fought and died then never to have fought at all"
Bionic Arms and Pandora, The most read FanFic on! Read it here! -Shameless self promotion-


Near the Tree of Souls
After the Ceremony

Damien watched from his shadows as the pilot rose from the altar. At first, it was a quiet thing. Slow, deliberate. Not careful...Apprehensive. Then, he opened his eyes, and Jax lost control. He lashed out, yelling, screaming at the top of his lungs. He roared at the assembled humans and blueskins. He was wild, enraged. Damien felt his pain. He wanted to go back to Earth, back home. But now, he had a new home, forced upon him.

It was sad, really.

Damien sat down, his legs pulled in, arms wrapped around them, watching the altar. A sudden fear had wormed it's way into his gut. What if he, too, didn't get to go home? What if Damien was stuck here for the rest of his life? He couldn't accept that. He wouldn't. This wasn't his home. This was a hellhole. The only reason he was even at the Tree of Souls was because he had wanted to help a fellow Marine.

And now, that Marine was gone, replaced by a blueskin.

It made Damien evaluate his current situation.

He had no reason to be here.
If the colors that bind,
Were to unwind,
Would I still be safe,
Within my mind?


Oscar sat crouched from a distance. Without the adrenaline he wasn't an active person. He felt like an observer. He felt like he should chronicle everything that had happened. He felt for Jax, understood personal demons as much as the next person and knew that Jax had a lot more than his fair share. He saw Damien, looking utterly miserable. Mo'at, first cautious and surprised, but the old Na'vi was more than intelligent enough to realize what had happened to Jax. He saw Eanataw also from a while away, looking almost... enthusiastic. After all, she'd never seen this. He wondered if the Na'vi had a word for "cool".

Jax had calmed down after a punch from Chris. Oscar crooked his head. This was all so... new. Of course, most of what he'd seen on Pandora was new, but Jax was a conundrum. Jax was one of those people Oscar couldn't fully relate to. Maybe because Jax was burdened with more than Oscar could probably carry.

Oscar felt as if every day, he lost a little piece of his old self. He didn't talk a lot anymore. He just... listened, looked. His personality was draining away, making place for a more peaceful existence. He liked it. However, he looked forward to the next time he needed adrenalin. The others had told him the Oscar back in the lab, the body, was a real human being. He had a personality of his own. They were keeping him permanently sedated until they knew what to do. At first he'd been angry, of course, but now, slowly but surely, he'd accepted his body. Mind and body were two separate entities now. And the adrenaline gave him a third. He feared the use of his arms would be minimal without 'the rush', as he'd come to call it. When it was there, however, his strength was far greater than that what he was used to. He'd been experimenting. He could lift rocks he didn't think he would be able to. But he missed holding his own food, he'd never be able to ride a Pa'li or an Ìkran. He was mostly useless. So he watched.

Oscar squinted, looked at the ceremony being finished. Yes, this was going to be very interesting indeed.
Speed is a ppoor sbubstitue fo accurancy

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Vitraya Ramunong

Chris was almost glad for the return punch. He knew he deserved it, but at least it showed that Jax was responsive and had listened.

"That's for the punch." Jax said, and then shook his head, "But I owe you one for the reminder that I'm not some sad-sack son-of-a-b**** that needs to stop feeling sorry for himself."

"You know what bro? It's something I think all of us needed, but you just happened to be there to take the brunt of it. I'm not a selfish jerk, and I can understand your pain believe it or not, but we're all here for you. We're family, smuktu. We'll stick it out together."

Chris thought for a minute about what Arik had said. "I don't know about you guys, but part of me will be Ewya'evengä forever." Chris knew he was right, but for Jax, this was a choice that had been made for him. Truthfully, Chris was beginning to envy him, but he wasn't going to let Jax know that. Not yet at least.


Nume fpi sänume

Locking thread. Congrats guys, with all the posts moved, in size 11, Times New Roman script, we have 301 pages of story in MS word with a total of 137,081 words. WOW.