Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Cold.

Cold. Dark.

Cold. Dark. Lonely.

Her eyes watered as she blinked them open. It’s hard to focus your vision when there’s nothing to focus on. The darkness seemed to stretch on forever, yet stop right in front of her. Feeling both claustrophobic and exposed, she lifted her head to get some orientation in the blackness.

She flexed her arms, trying to regain some feeling in the stiff limbs. The muscles creaked as they pulled against tendons with skin moving like hard leather across the surface. She repeated the same with her legs. Her wrists cracked as she placed them behind her and pushed her body upright.

The motion must’ve activated the light. A single bulb illuminated the room she was in; white and bare, she was alone. A thin metal plank lay raised in the middle of the room. A small sink with a mirror and toilet sat in one corner, a single blanket in another. The girl looked further across the room. It was small and square, only enough for her to lay down two times over.

She placed her feet on the ground and waited as the blood rushed back to her head, causing her vision to go blurry briefly. She pushed off the plank and moved to the blanket, picking it up and draping it over her shoulders. The material shielded her from the heat-sapping metal of the plank she got up from. She walked to the mirror placed on the wall.

A young girl stared back at her, about fifteen or sixteen, with curly blonde hair reaching just below her shoulders. Light freckles dotted her cheekbones and around the sides of her hazel eyes. She reached a hand up to her mouth and felt along her jaw. Smooth skin brushed under the pads of her fingers.

She didn’t recognise this face.

Looking down at her arms and legs, she moved them slowly, as if not remembering what they were. One arm moved up, followed by the other, then her legs. Her fingers moved uncoordinatedly when she tried to touch them to her thumb. She was short she guessed, her neck only just appearing above the bottom of the mirror.

Moving back to the raised plank, the girl sat down and looked at the opposite wall. The chill of the metal shot up her spine, so she readjusted to sit on the blanket. The walls were a dull silver, made up of vertical metal slats. She followed them around the edge of the room, where they formed the outline of a recessed door; she guessed that’s how she got in there.

She pressed her hand against the joins in the plates. The edge stretched up out of her reach to the top of the supposed door, being wide enough for a larger person to walk through. Tapping it, she observed the hollow sound it made.

No obvious lock was visible from inside the room, but the door hissed and moved towards her, slowly sliding to the side. The blanket fell off her shoulders as she moved back from the blinding light that entered.

A large blue figure stood on the other side, moving through the door and closing it behind them. They wore light green trousers and large black boots, a darker singlet clinging to their torso. Deep blue stripes adorned their arms and face, with cat-like ears and yellow eyes pointing towards her. Their head held close-cropped black hair, with a long ponytail hanging down their back. They must’ve been three metres tall.

The girl felt her heart quicken and adrenaline begin to flow, readying her to run. She unsteadily moved backwards, away from the thing.

“Miss Lonnie, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” The corner of the being’s mouth curled up as they spoke. Its voice was kind and sweet, but she could hear an almost metallic note below the surface.

Lonnie pressed her back against the metal plank. She tried to control her voice, “Who’re you?”

The man seemed amused, sharp canines poking at his bottom lip, “Colonel Miles Quaritch. I hope you found your accommodation comfortable?” He knelt to her height.

She gripped the plank harder to cease the trembling of her body. It wasn’t effective. “Where am I? Why’re you here?”

She hoped he didn’t notice her stammer.

The predatory grin never left his face. “I’ve come to prep you for transfer. Walk with me.”

The blue man opened the door again and gestured for her to exit. Everything in her body told her that leaving that room was a bad idea. With his size, she didn’t think she had much of a choice. She eyed him as she moved through the door into the hallway beyond.

Looking up through the window covering the top half of the passage, she saw pure, pitch blackness. Someone had taken the emptiness of her mind and projected it right above her head, stretching on to infinity. Right in the middle of her view sat something that made her gasp. A deep blue sphere perched itself in the middle of the nothingness, swirling fluffs of white lay above its surface, obscuring the deep greens and browns of land. Her feet brought her closer to the glass.

“Welcome to Space Miss Lonnie.”

She jumped and spun around to the blue man, who exited the room into the hallway. The wall of the hall stopped her moving further away. Either end of the passage was blocked with another small door, and she had no idea what would lay behind them.

The man looked up out the window, “Beautiful, isn’t it? Earth, the only home in the known universe. Well, until recently.” He chuckled quietly; an inside joke.

Quaritch started to move down the passageway, stopping to grasp Lonnie on the shoulder and bring her with him. His long strides overtook the rapid movement of her own feet, scrambling to keep herself from falling over.

She tightened her shoulder muscles, pulling her back and chin up and hoping to control the shaking. “Where am I?”

“This is the ISV Venture Star, preparing for its journey to Pandora. And you, Miss Lonnie, have a very important purpose.” The blue thing kept his head up and forwards. Lonnie wanted nothing more than for him to not see how scared she was.

“I don’t remember anything.” Someone had pulled the black expanse beyond and stuffed it back into her mind, emptiness and everything.

He smiled again, now looking down at the girl he pulled along, “That helps ease the transfer, Miss Lonnie. But this is what you agreed to.” His grip loosened on her shoulder. He reached down into a pocket of his trousers and pulled out a small, folded piece of paper. Unravelling it revealed a form. Quaritch pointed to the bottom where a signature was inked in a handwriting she didn’t recognise.

The paper was quickly put away, and they continued forward. The door Lonnie saw before drew closer. On feeling her slow down, the man pushed her shoulder harder.

A small white card pressed against a glowing panel. She heard a beep and the door swung open. Another passage revealed itself behind. She was pushed through first so the man could duck and follow. After taking several turns, they reached another obstruction and stood as it hissed open and slid away. Walking through, Lonnie watched as numerous people dressed in white coats, jeans and boots bustled about the room. It looked like an ant nest; a hive of activity, each entity having a purpose.

A group of people hunched over a desk where a pale blue light shone upon their faces. Others carried tall pots with plants growing from them, some had clipboards and little handheld devices.

The blue man moved his grip to Lonnie’s upper arm and brought her forward. The hand was calloused and strong, and it almost ripped her skin like sandpaper. They passed a window to another room and stopped before it. Quaritch pushed her harshly to the glass and stood behind her. Lonnie could see the reflection of his crossed arms and annoyed grimace. She reluctantly placed her hands against the glass and stared.

Through the barrier sat a large cylindrical tank filled with a light blue liquid and small bubbles. That’s not what got her attention though; what was inside the tank was the subject of her stares.

A tiny blue creature floated within, an umbilical cord-like tube connecting it to the tank. Its eyes were closed and mouth ajar while its tiny chest rose and fell. A small dusting of black hair covered the creature’s head. The same ponytail-appendage hung from the back of its head, although this one wasn’t braided; a thin blue tube. It had a tail, long and slender with a small black tuft on the end.

It looked almost human.

“What is that?” Lonnie took a step back from the glass and bumped into the blue man’s leg.

He chuckled, the metallic sound returning. He was amused. “That, Miss Lonnie, is your new body. In a couple years it’ll be bigger, stronger, faster and well, bluer.”

Her heart pounded, blood pulsing through her fingertips and feeling like it would burst from her nails. “No, no no no no. What the hell is happening?!”

“Nothing that you didn’t sign up for.” The grimace turned to malignant annoyance. Quaritch grabbed her struggling elbow and pulled the girl to an alcove along the middle of the longest wall. Positioned within was a reclined chair with arm and leg straps. In front of the headrest was a face restraint, with a large spinning mechanism above it. A sickly green light emanated from the control box next to it.

She tried to swing her fist at him, briefly connecting with his stomach.

Quaritch grinned, “Now there’s no need for that.”

She was panicking, bare feet scraping along the ground, hands grabbing at anything within reach. She grasped a wheeled trolley, pulling the contents onto the ground. Sample vials, paper and all manner of equipment scattered. Several personnel looked at her, annoyed, before going back to their work. He pulled the girl’s arms to her sides and lifted her into the air.

Tears streaked down her face as she struggled against the man more than twice her size, swinging and cursing with every bit of strength she had. He held on like a vice.

They reached the chair and she was pushed into it. He placed a hand on her shoulder and thigh and held her down as two personnel strapped her limbs into the machine. She screamed again as the biting metal restraints stole her freedom. Quaritch moved a hand to her forehead and pushed it against the headrest. One of the other people lowered the face restraint and clipped it into place.

Quaritch leant over her sweaty face and trembling limbs, her eyes wide and panicked and breath coming in short gasps, “Welcome to Project Phoenix, Miss Sully.” He walked out of the alcove and disappeared from view.

“Commence transfer!” One of the personnel called, waving their hand above their head. Several others standing at the raised control desk in the room’s centre began to move between consoles, pushing buttons and reading displays.

The machine whirred to life, a high-pitched whine that vibrated her teeth. The top piece began to spin slowly, shining its own green light on the girl. It sped up, the motion making her eyes twitch violently.

One spin, follow. Another spin, follow.

“Please stop! What did I do?! Help me! Please!” Lonnie pulled against the restraints, but the metal stayed true.

“Try to stay relaxed ma’am, it makes it easier for all of us. The more you struggle the worse it gets,” One of the personnel spoke from the machine’s control panel.

“No, get me out of this thing!” Blood rose in her throat, mixing with the bile from her stomach.

“Commencing transfer.”

“I don’t want this! Please, I don’t want…” Her head fell slack against the rest.

A disconcerting calm set over her, like swimming in water where you can’t see the bottom. She tried moving her limbs, but everything had gone numb and limp. A tingling started at the nape of her neck. It moved down her spine slowly. All at once, it shot through her limbs, jolting her body in the chair.

The noise of the spinning machine and talking of the others disappeared, replaced by a faint whispering. She couldn’t immediately make it out, it was like someone was sticking cotton wool into her head and ears. Her whole body trembled and shook; numbness creeping into every vessel and organ, but her mind felt none of it.

The voice moved closer.

Jake

Sully

The more she focussed, the more the voice split. It was like different people were saying the same thing simultaneously.

Jake

Sully

Jake

Sully

It was getting louder and closer, the distorted voices becoming clearer. They were merging into one.

Jake Sully

Jake Sully

They chanted together.

KILL JAKE SULLY

Chapter Text

Jake Sully had always been a family man. Well, “always” commenced when Neytiri told him she was expecting a child. He’d been overjoyed at the notion of becoming a father with her. He planned for weeks, months, for what he’d do with the little tyke, what they’d name them, where they could make their home.

The Omatikaya lived amongst the trees near the edge of a lake after Hometree had been destroyed and the humans banished. It was close enough to Hell’s Gate that the sympathetic scientists were able to move freely between locations, provided they had an escort to keep the wildlife away.

Almost every week, a new and excitable hunter would take a scientist’s avatar out to collect samples; still so much of the planet was unknown to those who came from another world. They made it their mission to learn as much as possible, partially to allow them to live on the planet with minimal impact, but also to sate their desire for new knowledge.

In those early days, Jake Sully would take Norm and several other Avatars out into the forests to scout for a potential remote lab location that would allow those approved people to operate independently, without interrupting the Na’vi too much. That’d been Neytiri’s idea actually.

When he and Neytiri announced their forthcoming child to the tribe, his identity solidified as one of the Na’vi and allowed him to fully strip away any remnants of his past life on Earth. He was able to redefine himself, but there were also parts he would miss dearly, and one he would never quite be able to let go of.

The same time every year he would open a little black box and hold a photo. A smiling three-year-old girl grinned back at him, the ends of her curly hair covered in chocolate cake, mimicking the state of her mouth. She wore a pink top with a picture of a unicorn on it. His human face was pressing a kiss to her cheek, an arm extending forward to hold the camera that took the picture.

That same time every year, he’d take Norm out on an “expedition” for several days. They’d talk about their past lives and all they’d left behind. The second year of doing this, after the birth of his son, Jake revealed the picture to Norm.

His firstborn child, a daughter on Earth. From what he knew, his ex-wife turned to drugs after the death of Tommy and his agreement to travel to Pandora; sent to him in a message as the ship prepared to leave the Solar System. He said it would provide enough money to pay for her and their child’s support, but it would mean leaving them behind. He never knew what became of either of them; the removal of the humans left Hell’s Gate’s communication with Earth offline, and before the war he’d only had a chance to send a message saying he’d arrived. He never got a response.

Norm had tried to convince him to at least tell Neytiri about her existence, but Jake refused. He reasoned that the girl probably wanted nothing to do with him and that it was best to let his past life die with his human body.

Still, he was never able to get rid of that photo; the very last proof that there was someone that he loved who wasn’t blue. So it stayed in that box, making its yearly appearance on his and Norm’s trips. He snuck a look at it every now and then, when no one from his growing family would notice.

As the years passed, on birthday milestones he’d bring her photo to the Tree of Souls. On her tenth, thirteenth and fifteenth birthdays he’d share everything he could remember about her with Eywa. He’d share what she was like the day she was born, a screaming and wriggling pink thing that was placed into his hands to protect with his life.

Other times he talked about mundane things about life with her, what she liked to eat, what her favourite movies were. It was weird when he sensed that the Tree didn’t know what a movie was and had to explain the concept to a deity.

It helped him remember her.

Some birthdays were harder than others. Some he would sob quietly to himself at the foot of the Tree with the picture in front of him. He cried that he’d never got to see her grow up, that he’d never know the young woman she’d become, of all the life events passed that he hadn’t witnessed.

The guilt didn’t help him either. The feeling that he was betraying his current family by wishing to see his old one, or at least part of it.

He loved his sons and daughters and wife, but he’d give up his legs to be able to see that young human girl again and tell her how much he loved her and how sorry he was for leaving her behind.

His children were aware that something was amiss around that point of the year, but they had the courtesy not to ask. Their mother told them that their father had left things behind after becoming a Na’vi, but even she wasn’t privy to all his past; the bond of Tsaheylu only permitted transferring thoughts that one allowed.

She knew he’d tell her when he was ready, whenever that time came. She was willing to wait.

Those nights, as they lay for bed, she’d hold him just a little tighter, waiting for his breathing to slow and mind to calm before joining him in sleep.

“Ma Jake, the Great Mother has a path for us all,” She’d whisper to his ear, her hand moving gently up and down his back.

Tuktirey was the most capable of bringing him back to the present. From a young age the tiny girl would crawl into his lap and place her short arms around his chest. She’d press her face into his neck, often falling asleep in the process.

Jake would lie down with his daughter stuck to him like a limpet and braid her hair. Having two daughters with long black hair necessitated Neytiri teaching him the traditional ways of styling a woman’s hair; how to tie it and place trinkets in it and craft headpieces.

It helped to bring him out of his stupors.

When the humans returned, it placed such a great strain on him that he barely had time to think about his human daughter. Between the planning of attacks and raising a still fledgling family he had very limited time for reminiscing.

He placed his full attention on protecting The People. That’s what he’d been bestowed the role of Olo'eyktan for. For better or worse, his experience as a military man put him at the forefront of the resistance force, even if it meant straining the relationship with his sons.

The attack on the train was planned down to the minute. But everything could always go awry when humans were involved. The appearance of the airship firing on them had sent him into a panic, scouring for his sons. There was a reason he ordered them to act as spotters; they were far from ready to be frontline warriors.

Call him a bad father, placing his children in the line of danger, but he gave them that role to give them experience for what it was like to execute one of their plans. But the teenagers had overestimated their own abilities, almost getting Neteyam killed in the process.

That wasn’t a mistake he’d make twice. The sight of his son’s blood on the ground and his limp body was not an image he’d easily be able to get out of his mind.

Neytiri thought he was being too harsh on the boys. He supposed that leaving one child behind was all the more reason to protect the others from the harsh realities of war. He’d seen the atrocities that human weapons were capable of committing first-hand, being on the receiving end of them once, costing him his human legs.

It was through this time he relied on Norm even more, someone else who truly understood what having a human soul was like, even if you lived your life as a Na’vi, even if you felt like you belonged on Pandora.

He supposed it was like Stockholm Syndrome. He’d become so used to war that he became the calm amongst the chaos.

Still, he would do anything in his power to keep his family safe.

Which made it all the more terrifying when Lo’ak radioed in, saying he saw Avatars wearing camouflage near the old shack.

Chapter Text

“Devil Dog this is Eagle Eye, over,” Lo’ak pressed the radio button on his throat.

“Eagle Eye, send your traffic,” His father’s voice returned through the piece in his ear. Kiri and Spider looked at him, waiting for a response in their own headsets.

He glanced through the foliage, keeping his head down as he observed the six or so foreigners wearing human clothing. Each was heavily armed, with rifles and pistols strapped to their camouflage-clad bodies. They seemed to be combing the place, looking inside the shack and scraping the vines off an old AMP suit. One of them had climbed into the structure and was opening the link beds.

From the distance they were, Lo’ak saw a bald one with his queue sticking out the back of his head holding a tablet in front of another, taller male with close cropped hair. It resembled the style his father had in the old videos he showed them.

Three more moved slowly around the perimeter. One held another tablet and took pictures as he walked, pistol in his offhand.

“Got eyes on some guys. They look like Avatars, but they’re in full camo.”

“Eagle Eye, what’s your pos?”

Lo’ak hesitated, glancing to his siblings, “We’re down by the old shack. They’re scouting the place.”

Tuk and Kiri pressed against each other, the younger girl’s head slotting in below her sister’s chin. Kiri glanced down at her sister’s scared pout, rubbing her upper arm in an attempt to soothe her.

The radio stayed silent for a moment before his father called back, “Who’s we?”

He hesitated again, speaking softly, “Me, Spider, Kiri… and Tuk.”

They heard their mother’s gasp come through Jake’s microphone. He spoke again, “You listen to me. Fall back from your position, do not make a sound. We’ll be there soon.”

“Roger that.”

Lo’ak glanced to his siblings, Tuk’s eyes looking tearful, “C’mon, let’s get back.”

The group crouched and slowly paced back, away from the shack. Tuk’s legs shook as they moved, her head turning back to the aliens. Kiri glanced down at her younger sister and reached around her back, lifting her up to her side and placing another arm under her legs.

They paced carefully through the undergrowth, feet placed in just the right places to make as little sound as possible. The Na’vi kids’ ears were twitching to any sound they heard. The chattering of Viperwolves and the screeches of Ikrans were common to them, but they flinched whenever anything sounded too nearby.

Spider walked backwards with them, Lo’ak’s tail wrapped around his waist, guiding his way. Both their bows were raised and arrows nocked. His mask was getting low on oxygen and he knew they’d have to hurry when Jake and Neytiri arrived. Hopefully one of them would have a spare canister in their saddlebag. The warning beep of the unit would start soon, surely giving away their position.

As the group crept, something shiny caught Lo’ak’s eye. He tapped Spider’s shoulder, “Bro, look at that.” He pointed through the leaves with his bow at the object.

Spider squinted through his mask and crouched on his hands and knees. He crawled forward, the leaves of bushes and small plants obscuring his vision. He turned back to the others and shook his head, gesturing with one hand up into the canopies of the trees.

Getting to his feet, Spider shuffled to a low branch and climbed up. He wrapped his body around the trunk and shimmied his way up to the next set of branches. With arms extended and feet light, he paced forwards to get a better look from above, glancing back down to see Kiri, Lo’ak and Tuk watching him, huddled at the base of a large rock.

A ways in front, sitting in a tiny patch of cleared ground was a Samson airship. The leaves of many trees obscured it from above, only a small patch of light reflecting off the windshield. It didn’t look like anyone was in it, but the smell of fumes reached his nose. It’d been used recently.

Spider paced across several branches to get a better look into the aircraft. The pilot and co-pilot seats were empty except for a small box of ammunition resting against the back. The door out of the cockpit to the cargo bay was sealed, the same for one of the cargo bay doors. The other was open, a row of large seats running down the middle.

Spider reached up to his earpiece and flicked it to Lo’ak’s private channel, “It’s an RDA airship. From the smell, it was recently used. One of the doors is open. Looks like the seats inside were used for those Avatars at the shack.”

“Anyone near?” Lo’ak whispered back through the radio.

“Not that I can see. There’s a patch of bushes around the other side, see if you can move ‘round there to get a closer look. I’ll stay up here for overwatch.” Spider raised his bow and locked his leg against the branch, allowing him to get a stable base for aiming.

He glanced down at the faint rustling made by the other children as they moved to the other side of the airship. When he saw Tuk’s head pop up through the vegetation he radioed back to Lo’ak, “Tell Tuk to keep her head down.” Kiri hushed her sister when Lo’ak told her to pull Tuk further into the vegetation.

As his friends approached the craft, Spider switched his radio back to the open channel, radioing back to Jake and Neytiri, “Devil Dog this is Tarantula, over.”

“Reading you loud and clear, Tarantula.” Jake’s voice responded. Spider glanced below, seeing that the others were listening to the conversation too.

“We think we’ve found the Samson the Avatars used. It’s about a seven-minute walk due east of the shack. We can’t see anyone around and there are no tracks, but the engines were on not that long ago, maybe an hour or so? I’m on lookout whilst Lo’ak, Kiri and Tuk investigate.”

“What are you doing boy?” Neytiri’s voice hissed through the radio, “Putting my children in danger. Get them out of there.”

“No Mother, there’s something in it,” Kiri’s voice came through.

The teenaged girl put Tuk back on the ground and placed her hands on the edge of the aircraft door, jumping into a crouch in the cargo bay. She knelt and peered under the seats.

With hands and bare feet bound and mouth gagged, lay a small Na’vi girl clothed in a green singlet and shorts. Her eyes were closed and body still.

“Brother, help me here,” She gestured for Lo’ak to help her move the girl out of the cargo bay. Pressing the button on her throat, she radioed back to their parents, “We’ve found a young girl tied up under the seats. She looks a bit older than Tuk, maybe a little bigger. I don’t recognise her, but she looks like one of the Forest People.”

Kiri lifted the girl’s shoulders while Lo’ak grabbed her legs. They hoisted her out the Samson and carried her back to the foliage, laying her down on the ground. Kiri placed a finger below her nose, feeling the slow movement of air that indicated life. She didn’t look like the empty shell of an Avatar.

Kiri unclipped a small bag from around her waist and pulled out a berry, crushing it. She held the juices below the girl’s nose, trying to ignore the foul stench.

When the girl didn’t respond, she activated the radio again, “We need to get her back to Grandmother. Tsahìk will know what to do.”

“We’re two mics out. Move to cover and secure the area. Have Spider meet us there,” Jake’s voice came back.

“Roger that,” Lo’ak switched to Spider’s private channel, “Bro, we’ve got to go meet with my parents.”

He only heard static back.

“Spider do you read me? Tarantula come in.” He glanced up to the far tree where Spider had been covering them. He didn’t see him.

“Kiri, Tuk, do you see Spider?” He looked to Kiri, who changed to Spider’s channel too.

“Monkey Boy, do you hear me?”

They slowly moved back to the trees Spider had been in, but the thick foliage against the nearby trunks permitted no view from their level. They jumped at the sudden flap of Jake, Neytiri and Neteyam’s Ikrans landing behind them.

Neytiri jumped off her mount and ran towards them, landing on her knees and reaching for her youngest child, “Are you alright my child?” She patted Tuktirey’s back as she hugged her.

“Mum, we can’t find Spider. He’s not responding on the radio,” Lo’ak said, pointing to where Spider had sat.

Jake followed his finger to the canopies, seeing the lookout place Spider would’ve taken. He paced around the clearing, peering into the vegetation while keeping his large body low and rifle ready. He cleared the base of the trees his son had pointed at, finding nothing. He ran back and shook his head, “He’s a strong kid and he’s got his radio. We need to move this girl back to the village,” He gestured down to the prone girl.

At Kiri and Lo’ak’s protests, he held his hand up, “It’s getting late and she needs medical attention. We’ll send a search party in the morning.” A sob broke through Kiri’s throat. Jake pulled her to him, “Oh baby girl, he knows the forest. He’ll get away from the shack as fast as he can.”

A gunshot echoed in the distance.

Jake flicked his head in that direction, freezing for a second. It sounded nearby. “Everyone on the Ikran. Kiri, Tuk, you fly with Neteyam. Lo’ak with your mother,” He pushed Lo’ak towards his mate and hoisted the girl onto the saddle of his Ikran and mounted it behind her.

Another gunshot rang out.

“Go go go!”

The three Ikran rose into the air and flew off through the canopies, heading away from the sound. Neteyam almost lost hold of his mount when a third shot rang out. Tuk screamed and squeezed her brother’s middle.

Kiri’s eyes were watering as she looked back at the Samson. “Oh, Great Mother, keep him safe,” She whispered, pressing herself closer to Tuk.

“Good thinking with the motion sensors Colonel, told us exactly when they were here,” The bald blue man said, firing the last bullet in his magazine into the sky.

“Maybe getting a new brain made you smarter,” The large, tattooed woman joked, stowing the tranquiliser gun in its holster.

The recombinant soldier grinned and walked to the base of the tree. “What do we have here?” He crouched down to the unconscious body. A boy lay on the ground, a large purple bruise forming on his shoulder blade from the impact with the soil. The Colonel traced a finger over the blue markings on his skin, stopping as they reached the base of the boy’s light brown dreadlocks.

 He turned back to his group of soldiers, “Wainfleet, can you check how much oxygen he’s got left?”

The bald man moved forward and lifted the exopack, “Not much sir, we’ve got to bring him back to base.”

He nodded before lifting the boy’s body onto his shoulder, reattaching the exopack to his belt. He gestured for the rest of his squad to fall in on them, waiting as Wainfleet reloaded his weapon.

“Blue Team to Ironsky, requesting exfil. Asset planted and mission accomplished. We’re also in possession of a high value prisoner. Rendezvous at the Samson.” The Colonel released his radio and glanced to the sky, waiting for the sound of their ride.

“Ironsky to Blue Team, reading you loud and clear. Congratulations Colonel. The Samson will be recovered when we arrive. We’re ten mics out.”

“Buckle up ladies, hold this position ‘till extract.” The Colonel swung his rifle behind his back as he drew his sidearm. His other arm adjusted the limp body on his shoulder.

The other Recombinants spread out and raised their weapons. It wasn’t long ‘till the sound of the dropship came over the horizon and through the trees.

Chapter Text

The three Ikran flew through the maze of floating rocks and vines connecting them. The waterfalls they passed dissipated into mist that wetted their faces as they flew, the riders being led higher into the mountains. The higher they got the more Ikran they saw, their screeches echoing through the open air.

Below them, the forest sprawled out in every direction, only broken up by cliffs and streams. Out to the east, on the far horizon, the faint glint of the sea was visible. Between here and there several different chains of the Hallelujah Mountains floated, each a different size from the previous.

For the Omatikaya, this sight had been home for over a year now, and while they still mourned the loss of Hometree and their subsequent forest dwelling, many agreed that the sky was just as beautiful.

The party reached a small cluster in one of these chains, passing through the waterfall that hid the entrance to the cave system their village sat in.

Kiri tilted her head back and allowed the water to wash her tear-stained cheeks, rubbing her eyes as the Ikran came in for landing.

She swung her leg off Neteyam’s Ikran, reaching back to lift Tuk up and over the flying mount. Neteyam jumped down beside them, petting the side of his bird. He briefly walked to a basket, pulling out a small fish and throwing it back to his Ikran, who grabbed it out the air happily.

“Are you alright sister?” Neteyam crouched down and observed Tuktirey’s face. He spun her around and checked her arms and back for scratches and bruises.

Kiri’s eyes watered again, “Spider’s missing. I think… I think they took him.”

Neteyam stood and pulled her into a hug, “Who took him?”

“The Avatars we saw. They were dressed like soldiers. And they had guns and I think they took him!” She scrunched her eyes shut, pressing further into Neteyam.

“Easy little sister. Spider is human, he knows how to keep himself safe around them. We’ll get him back.”

Neteyam looked up from his crying sister to where his mother was hugging Lo’ak. What decent older brother wanted their sister to cry? As Kiri’s sobs racked through her body, Neteyam couldn’t help the tears that welled up in his own eyes. He turned his head and wiped his nose on his shoulder. Truthfully, he was terrified. The description of the Avatars Lo’ak said through the radio made him want to dive down there, pick his siblings up with his Ikran’s claws and fly far, far away.

He hoped that if Spider had been taken by the Avatars, someone at the Sky People city would be sympathetic to the young forest boy.

The grunting of his father pulled the oldest sibling’s eyes away from his sister. Jake had lifted the unknown girl into his arms and was pacing towards Mo’at’s tent. The man hesitated and turned back to their group. He called for Lo’ak, who extricated himself from his mother’s arms and ran over.

“Get Norm and Max, tell them to bring their medical monitoring gear to your grandmother’s hut,” The boy nodded and jogged to the other side of the smaller entrance cavern, passing through to where the scientist’s shack was located.

Jake turned back to the direction of his mother-in-law, stopping once to adjust the limp body in his arms. For someone so small, she was awfully heavy, more so than any of his other children at that size.

He reached the hut’s entrance and carefully pushed the flap of fabric aside. Mo’at looked up from her place on the floor, several small bowls and pots laying around her by the small fire in the centre.

He brought a hand to his forehead and nodded, Mo’at reciprocating the gesture. The older woman motioned to lay the girl down on a thick woven mat at the edge of the room. She looked back as she knelt beside the girl.

“The kids found her like this in a Samson while exploring near Site 26. There were military Avatars nearby, definitely not ours.” He gestured an arm down to the floor, “Kiri said she didn’t recognise her, but I agree that she looks like one of the Forest People.”

Mo’at pulled out a small blade and removed the wrist binds, gesturing for Jake to do the same for her legs. He slowly cut part-way through the fabric, tearing the rest off.

“She has not woken?”

“No, but I think Kiri would’ve tried her smelly berry things, whatever they’re called,” He gestured in the air, making Mo’at roll her eyes. “I’ve asked Lo’ak to bring Norm and Max here.”

“I do not like their methods Jakesully.” She placed a hand on the girl’s forehead.

“I know, but even with your knowledge there’s nothing like those human scanners. We need to learn more about her.”

Mo’at closed her eyes for a moment. She nodded hesitantly and rose when she heard the fabric parting.

Neytiri and the children entered, taking up half the room. Jake eyed his mate and flicked his head back in the direction they came from. Neytiri nodded, ushering the kids out the door, much to their dismay.

Max and Norm entered not much later, Norm in his Avatar body, towering over the other man. Jake had tried multiple times to convince him to be permanently transferred to his Avatar, but Norm rebuked, saying the benefits of becoming a true Na’vi were outweighed by the cons of not being able to use his scientific equipment in the lab. Jake had laughed earnestly at that. A true scientist.

“Thanks for coming.” Jake took a bag from Norm’s shoulder, laying it on the ground and unpacking.

“Yeah, no problem. Lo’ak explained what happened. We’ll get her-”

“Jakesully, look here.” Mo’at held up one of the girl’s hands. Four fingers and a thumb. She gestured to the girl’s face. Thin hairy eyebrows sat on her face above closed eyes. He hadn’t thought to see if she had the features of an Avatar during the ride back.

Jake shuffled over, taking the hand from Mo’at. He lifted his up next to it, comparing them. Her hand was definitely similarly structured to his. He followed the stripes on her arm before taking her other arm. The inside of the limbs was a pale blue, transitioning in a gradient to a darker tone, more similar to the normal Na’vi colouration. Deep blue stripes ran across the width of her arms, resembling the images of tigers that Jake remembered from Earth. The stripes continued up across her chest and onto her neck, fading away as they reached her face.

Mo’at picked up her queue and observed the tendrils at the end, “Her Tswin is not yet fully grown. She is maybe the same age as Neteyam. She is very small. Likely not fed well.”

“An Avatar?” Jake looked to Mo’at.

The Tsahìk placed a hand on either of girl’s temples and closed her eyes, breathing deeply, “No Jakesully, there is still a soul in this body."

"Yep, I’m definitely getting brain activity here,” Norm said as he placed another electrode on her forehead, looking back down at his tablet.

“One of the nearby clans then?” Max asked from Jake’s side. The smaller man was roughly the same size as the girl. Jake often forgot just how large the Na’vi were compared to the humans.

“No, why put her in human clothes then?” Jake, Norm and Max turned to look at Neytiri. She unfolded her arms and moved forwards, “Why would the Dreamwalkers leave her tied up in the airship? If she was captured they would be keeping her, not bringing her back out here.” Jake stood and turned to her. She continued, “I do not like this, Ma Jake. The Sky People wouldn’t capture a Na’vi to give them back.”

Norm turned to his bag, pulling out a device that he clipped to the side of his tablet. Max stood and walked around the girl. Norm pulled a strip of blue tape out of the device and handed it to Max. He kept the other end attached to the screen.

He glanced to the other adults looking at them with confusion.

“Portable full body x-ray. Something we’ve been working on for a while now,” Norm stated.

They lifted the tape over the girl’s face and slowly moved it down till it reached her feet. An image gradually built on the screen.

Jake recognised the shape of bones and skin, but didn’t understand the colours in the image. “What am I looking at here exactly?”

Norm took the other end of the tape from Max and reeled it back into the device. He unclipped it and stowed it back in the bag by his side.

The scientist zoomed in on the girl’s leg, tapping on the femur. An exploded view of the bone’s structure appeared.

Max moved over to the tablet and gasped.

Norm pointed to a small graph in the bottom of the screen, “That’s the composition of her bones. There’s the normal stuff,” He gestured to one side of the graph, “But this, this is not normal.” He pointed to the other side.

Max reached over and expanded the graph, it taking up the whole screen. “That is the ratio of carbon fibre to calcium. Pass it here,” He took the enormous tablet from Norm. “This is the ratio in a normal Na’vi, about fifty-fifty between the two compounds. But this,” He tapped a couple more times, pulling up another graph, “Is the ratio in an Avatar. There’s a much higher proportion of calcium. It’s a result of the process of combining the driver’s DNA with a Na’vi’s.”

“She’s an exact match.” Norm took the tablet back and shut the screen off.

“That would explain why she’s so heavy,” Jake muttered. Louder he asked, “So the RDA has a way of binding a human’s mind to an Avatar? Just like the Tree of Souls did to me?”

“It would appear so, Jake.” Norm stood and placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder, “That might be what the guys at the shack were.”

Jake hung his head, closing his eyes, “Lo’ak, get in here.”

The fabric curtain to the hut parted, Lo’ak poking his head in.

“What did the guys at the shack look like?” Jake pulled Lo’ak to him and placed him arms on his son’s shoulders. He knelt and looked the boy in the eyes.

Lo’ak avoided the eye contact. “Their hair was cut close to their heads, just like the old videos you showed us. They had armour and guns. I don’t remember any more.”

“Did you hear them speak?”

“No, they were too far away. We retreated as soon as you responded.”

“Good man.” Jake patted his shoulder and gestured for him to leave. Once the curtain had closed, he turned to Neytiri, whispering, “He’s not telling us everything.”

“Now is not the time for interrogations, Ma Jake.” She knelt next to the girl’s prone form, “We must wait for this one to wake to get more information, then we can ask him.”

It’d been two days since Jake had permitted anyone to leave the mountains around their village. He reasoned that with an unknown force at the human’s disposal, it was wise to lie low for a while. That didn’t help his teenage children.

“Ah, I need to go fly bro. The Ikrans’ wings are twitching and I keep getting head-butted by mine.” Lo’ak fidgeted and sat up. He looked down to Neteyam lying against a smooth rock. His older brother’s eyes were closed and his hands were behind his head.

“Calm, little brother. Have you not had enough adventures for a while?” Neteyam spoke from his reclined position.

Lo’ak stood up from the boxes and reached down. He picked up a stone and began throwing it up in the air. He walked a couple paces and caught it again.

“You know I don’t like being cooped up in here.” He threw the stone higher this time.

Neteyam sighed and stood, “That’s why your Skxawng arse keeps getting into trouble.” He reached down and tugged Lo’ak’s tail, receiving a hiss in return.

“Brothers, go to Grandmother’s, quick,” Kiri jogged over to them, Tuk hot on her tail, “The girl is waking. Where’s dad?”

Lo’ak dropped the rock and pointed to where their father stood, talking to several other warriors.

Kiri nodded, “Quick, go. Mother is already there.” She turned and ran with Tuk over to their father.

The two boys ran over to Mo’at’s tent. They pushed past the fabric curtain and stepped inside. Their mother and grandmother sat at the girl’s side, a bowl of water still in Mo’at’s hand.

She was stirring. The tip of her tail flicked slowly against the wooden floor. She let out a small groan, her eyes twitching below their lids. The corners of her mouth pulled into a grimace.

The boys flicked their heads over to the entrance, watching as their father walked through. Kiri and Tuk followed behind. They formed a semi-circle around the girl, standing next to Neteyam and Lo’ak.

The girl twitched an arm, trying to push herself up. Neytiri and Mo’at each placed a hand behind her back and lifted her to a seated position. They glanced at each other as the girl groaned again.

Jake crouched down in front of her, “Hey, are you feeling alright?”

The girl gasped and opened her eyes.

The family took a step back, Jake falling down.

Staring up at them were not the bright yellow eyes of a normal Na’vi or Avatar, but one of a deep purple, and the other a faded yellow.

Chapter Text

When the girl opened her eyes, she blinked, struggling to focus on the moving shapes around her. Her distorted vision swayed as her head moved from side to side. Every blink brought about a new misshapen form moving in front of her.

She was sitting up, she could feel that, but a wave of nausea overtook her, forcing her to lean back. She felt something soft and moving behind her. She lifted a hand to her temple, pressing it hard against the edge of her eye, trying to regain a semblance of focus.

A sound came from her left. She didn’t understand it, it reaching her brain as a signal that there was noise, but not what the noise actually was. It felt like her head was filled with an gelatinous liquid.

She attempted to move her other hand. It didn’t respond to her command. She looked down to where she thought it would be, only feeling another wave of nausea. She closed her eyes and shook her head. That was a bad idea.

She pitched forward and retched. The only thing she could tell was that something cold and wet came up from her throat and splattered on the floor in front of her. Her hand raised to her mouth, as if by its own will, pressing something soft against her chin and wiping across it.

At least, she thought it was her own hand.

She focussed as much as she could. She knew one hand was off to her side, laying limp and unresponsive. The other felt much lower than her chin. She turned her head to the side the hand came from, seeing a moving blue smudge. It looked vaguely hand shaped.

Huh, blue hand, she giggled in her head.

The blue smudge moved down and picked up something brown. She followed it as best she could, moving slowly as to not set off another wave of nausea.

The brown thing moved to her lips and tipped upwards. She felt a warm liquid entering her mouth. She tried to figure out the taste, but by the time she felt it go down her throat, a gentle pulsing started in the back of her mind.

It slowly crept forward, moving through her body and down to her limbs. She closed her eyes and allowed it to take her. It felt so comforting.

The Sullys waited for Neteyam to return to the tent with Max. They’d stood and watched as the girl glanced around the room. She clearly wasn’t completely with it, swaying and moving on the ground, a smile on her face.

Her eyes had attempted to focus on her surroundings, but every time she moved her head, she would sway more, at one point almost falling backwards. Neytiri had held her upright.

Tuk was watching with a smile, grinning at the almost drunk nature of the girl. “She looks like she’s had too many fermented berries. You looked like that dad after the war party celebration,” The girl whispered into her dad’s ear, earning her a look. She giggled and looked back at the girl.

She was smiling until the girl vomited a liquid onto the floor of Mo’at’s tent.

When Max entered, he leant down and pulled out a small glass vial. With a gloved hand, he collected a small amount of the liquid and held it to the fire. Lo’ak and Kiri grimaced at each other.

“This is definitely amnio fluid, plus some water I’m guessing?” The scientist glanced to a nodding Mo’at. “Judging by the colour, I’d say she was in the tank for seven or eight years, maybe more? Whoever was in charge of it did a horrible job of changing the filters. I’ll run some tests in the lab to see what else I can find.” He looked to Jake, concerned, “If she was in there that long, you’ll want to know that before you arrived here, the Avatar Program had some problems with Avatars that had been kept in storage after fully developing. Mostly muscle control faults. Depending on when the human mind was placed in this body, she’s likely to have some movement problems. They go away with enough muscle use. We also had cases of drivers experiencing fatigue and nausea, but they pass quickly. Of course, you wouldn’t know that, what with your gung-ho first drive.” Max grinned at his friend.

Max slipped the vial into his shirt pocket and stood. He nodded to the rest of the family, receiving a thanks and slap on the back from Jake as he headed out the door and walked back to the lab.

Jake glanced back down at the girl’s again unconscious form, “What did you give her?”

Mo’at replied, “It aids in clearing the mind. If she had not woken before, she will be confused. It will help her.”

“How long will she be out?”

The girl let out a soft groan, her eyelids scrunching closed.

“Not very. Though, I did not expect the effect to put her to sleep so quickly.” Mo’at picked up a bowl of water and gestured to Neytiri. Neytiri placed a hand on either shoulder and lifted the girl upright.

This time, when she opened her eyes, they appeared to focus much more quickly. She blinked and looked forward as the blue shapes became sharper.

Crouching in front of her was a blue male humanoid wearing, well, not much at all. He had large yellow eyes and ears that twitched forward on the sight of her waking. For a split second, she felt she recognised a similar life form.

An involuntary cry left her throat. She pressed her arms into the ground and attempted to scramble away. One of her limbs laid still, causing her to roll sidewards onto the ground.

Her heels scrapped along the rough floor, struggling to gain grip. She lifted a hand to shield her face, eyes blowing wide.

When she felt something touch her shoulder, she screamed, her hand swinging out to strike it. She heard a yelp and brought it back to swing again. Something grabbed that hand and held it firm. As she tried to yank it free, her back hit something solid and stopped.

She scrunched her eyes shut, preparing for the worst, “Please don’t hurt me!”

When she heard a collective whisper, she cracked one eye open. Flanking her were two female looking figures, the younger one restraining her hand. The woman’s other hand pressed against a split lip.

The male crouching in front of her glanced to the woman. She took note of the numerous smaller figures on the other side of the room. When none of them seemed to move aggressively towards her, she relaxed her shoulder, allowing her hand to fall from the woman’s grip.

When the man shuffled closer, she drew her legs up to her chest. The man moved back again, “Hey, hey, we’re not gonna hurt you.” He tilted his head, “You don’t speak Na’vi?”

He took the blank stare he received as a no. “Here, drink this,” He lifted a bowl and placed it in her working hand. “It’s water. You’ve been out for several days. Do you remember what happened?”

Now that he mentioned it, her throat was rather dry. She lifted the bowl to her lips.

Her hand came into her view.

Blue. It was blue.

She flinched, sending the bowl clattering down and the contents spraying over them. “What’s happening to me?!” Her hand looked normal, all five fingers still present, but now very blue and stripey.

The man shared another look with the woman beside her. “Woah, woah, calm down.”

She felt a large hand placed on her chest. She looked up to the man. A sob racked her throat as tears started to drip down her face. “Breathe with me.” He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. She forced her shaky breathing to slow, inhaling through her nose. “In, and out.” She let out an unsteady stream of air.

The man repeated the motion, “In, and out. In, and out. Better?”

The girl nodded.

“Good. Now, tell me what you remember? Do you know why you’re in a Na’vi body?”

She hesitantly met his eyes. The corners of them tilted down, matching his concerned expression. He kept his hand on her chest, continuing to breathe slowly. She wracked her brain, pulling the scraps of memory together.

“I remember a ship. I was in a room. A man came to get me. He was blue, like you. He took me to another place with lots of people, showed me a tiny blue creature.” She looked back down at her hand. “The people put me in a chair, calling the blue thing my new… body…” She hadn’t noticed the streams flowing from her eyes.

The man’s face softened more. She let herself be pulled into him. Her cheek squished against the broad chest. He wrapped his arms around her body and held her as she sobbed. “Sshhh, sshhh, you’re okay now. You’re safe here. We’re not going to hurt you.” He gingerly lifted a hand to the unbraided locks of hair. She really was tiny by Na’vi standards. At this, the young form pressed closer to him, her head nestling under Jake’s chin.

She fought back another sob, just for a moment, “He said I was part of Project Phoenix. I don’t remember how I got there.”

Jake twisted slightly to look at Lo’ak staring into the middle distance. The young boy murmured, “Project Phoenix."

Jake held the girl and turned to Neytiri, mouthing “I told you so.”

Neytiri rolled her eyes. She shuffled closer to the pair and placed a firm hand on the girl’s back.

“Hi, I’m Tuk!”

Neytiri flicked her gaze to where her youngest daughter stood next to the embracing couple. Jake reached up to guide his daughter into the hug. She willingly complied, wrapping her arms around the girl.

The new arrival looked up at the smiling child. She brought a hand to wipe at her nose, “Hello Tuk.”

The child grinned again, pulling the girl away from Jake. “That’s my daddy, Jake. That’s mum, Neytiri. Grandma, Mo’at. Those are my brothers and sister,” She pointed to each of her siblings, “Lo’ak, he’s silly but kind. That’s Neteyam, he’s the oldest and he’s very brave. And that’s Kiri, she’s really smart.”

The girl managed a weak smile to the rest of the occupants.

“I’m the youngest, eight years old,” She puffed her chest out proudly, “Then Lo’ak and Kiri, and Neteyam is the oldest. He’s fifteen and he’s going to be the chief some day! Dad has to die first, though.”

The siblings and Neytiri laughed at Jake’s indignant cry, but he supposed it was worth it for the small laugh Tuk got out of the girl.

Tuk’s eyes caught the faint twitch of the girl’s limp arm. “Max said it might be hard for you to move some muscles.” She pointed to the arm. “He’s one of the scientists and he’s really nice too! How old are you? Grandma says you’re probably the same age as Neteyam, but you’re the same size as me!”

The girl hesitated at the onslaught of words. She wiped at her tear-stained face then let her hand fall to her lap. “I don’t remember. I don’t remember much at all.”

Tuk’s face fell slightly at the admission, “Well do you remember your name?”

She shook her head, “No, but the man called me Lonnie, Lonnie Sully.”

“Hey dad, that’s the same name as you!” Tuk looked back to Jake. “Dad?”

A bead of sweat formed on Jake’s brow and travelled down his temple. It passed over his cheek and reached his chin, where it dripped to the ground. Several others formed and fell. Tuk watched her dad’s wide blown eyes, staring straight at the girl. Her sensitive ears flicked at the sound of his heartrate growing louder and faster. He was frozen to the spot.

He looked at the girl. Truly looked at her. After days, weeks of staring at his most precious photo, it had become ingrained into his memory, every little detail. His eyes cast over her brows and cheekbones; they followed the same contour as the image of his baby daughter. She had the same wide mouth and chin, with the same muscles that stretched in her neck as she tilted it to the side.

“Ma Jake, are you okay?” Neytiri’s three-fingered hand placed on his chest. She glanced between the girl, Lonnie, and her mate. An expression of confusion graced her face. Lonnie, too, had shuffled back and looked close to tears under the wide gaze of the man before her.

Neytiri placed another hand on his forearm and squeezed the tense muscles. Her face turned to one of concern, “Jake, what is the matter?”

Jake’s mouth opened and closed slowly, looking like a fish out of water. He went to speak, a mixture of English and Na’vi slipping out, “No, that’s not possible. You couldn’t be here. How would… No, it’s not possible.”

“Dad, you’re scaring us.” Lo’ak had his hands up, trying to create some distance between them. Kiri pressed close into Neteyam’s side, who placed an arm around her shoulder.

Jake quickly flicked his eyes to his children behind him then returned them to the frightened form in front of him. He stood quickly, causing Neytiri’s hands to fall from his body. They watched as he turned and rapidly paced out the door.

“Stay here.” Neytiri kept her gaze on the retreating form of Jake.

She stood too and followed him out. He was walking at speed towards their family’s tent. She jogged up to him and grabbed his shoulder in an attempt to slow him down, but he barely noticed the pressure and kept his feet moving at a frantic pace.

Reaching their home, he tore the entrance curtain aside and dropped onto the woven floor, scrambling through their possessions.

“What are you doing, Ma Jake?!” Neytiri’s panicked voice came from behind him. He paused and briefly glanced back. His mate rushed over and tried to hold his head firm to keep his eyes on hers.

He just flicked her hands away and pulled out a small black box. It rattled slightly when he stood and moved back to the curtain, leaving the hut as fast as he entered. Neytiri’s breath hitched when the curtain was roughly torn from the doorway.

She followed him back to her mother’s home. She tried again to gain his attention, but his blank face looked as if he was hypnotised. She should know, she’d watched her mother hypnotise away the scars of battle from many traumatised warriors.

As the entrance pulled back, it revealed Tuk talking softly to Lonnie while Kiri exercised the girl’s limp arm back and forth. Lo’ak and Neteyam were crouched next to their grandmother. At the sight of their father, all the children, Lonnie included, shuffled back.

Jake lifted the box and opened it. He pulled out a faded piece of paper and held it next to the girl’s face. Lonnie’s eyes blew wide. She glanced back and forth between Jake and the paper beside her. The family members stared at the old photo, looking between it and Lonnie.

“Jake, what is this?” Neytiri’s hiss brought him back to the present. That was a voice she had only used with their children when they were younger.

He spoke in English, “When I left Earth, I left behind a daughter. She was three at the time.” Neytiri’s hand flew to her mouth, muffling a curse. She now saw the resemblance between the toddler in the photo and the girl on the floor.

“This is her… Lonnie Sully.”

Chapter Text

In all the years Jake had lived on Pandora, he never thought he’d see his human daughter there. When he soared through the crystal blue skies, or trekked through the densest forest, or hunted with his mate, he always imagined what it would be like to have Lonnie with him.

He’d wonder if she would get along with her (technically) younger siblings, despite being human. Would she learn the ways of the Omatikaya and become a Taronyu? Would she bond with an Ikran? Obviously a human wouldn’t be able to form Tsaheylu, but that hadn’t stopped Spider from trying to ride one solo. If he hadn’t been thrown down a cliff, he probably would’ve succeeded.

Would the clan willingly accept another human? Over the years, several clan members had grown fond of the human scientists, given their help with the healing that needed to take place after their raids, but a large proportion of the clan were still weary of outsiders.

He’d tried to extrapolate the photo of her to imagine what she’d look like after his six years of travel and fifteen years on Pandora. He imagined she would have married and started a family, or maybe become a successful businesswoman. After all, her mother was a banker.

Jake had loved the mother of his daughter initially, but after the birth of Lonnie they had drifted apart. The spark they’d initial felt had dissipated, but they’d both worked to raise Lonnie, before Jake had accepted the offer to take his brother’s place. The money was just too good to pass up, especially for paying child support when they’d finally filed the divorce papers. Whilst he may no longer have loved her, he trusted that she would care for their daughter.

Onboard the ISV ship, he received a message that Lonnie’s mother had been found in a back-alley unconscious and barely breathing, with an unknown substance in her system.

He never expected to find his daughter on Pandora with him, especially not in a Na’vi body.

From what he garnered from her, she was used as a subject in Project Phoenix, designed to place a human mind in an Avatar, not requiring the use of a Link Bed. For what purpose, he did not know.

She had stared tearfully at him as he held his photo by her face. The rest of his family had glanced between Jake, Lonnie and the photo.

Neytiri was the first to react. Jake’s admission had sent a storm of questions through her mind; the foremost being why her mate willingly kept this secret from her. His lack of trust in her had her hissing at him and storming out the hut. Mo’at followed quickly behind her. Jake had hung his head and left the room too, though not following the other women.

After the initial shock, the other Sully children were ecstatic to have a new sister, Tuk especially. The young child had continued to hug Lonnie, who was staring vacantly into space.

Kiri moved back to her side and continued to help her regain movement in her arm. Lonnie heard a quiet humming start up quickly, guessing Kiri was trying to lighten the mood. For such a short time knowing them, Lonnie was starting to like these girls.

The boys she was less sure of.

Lo’ak and Neteyam had watched Lonnie and the photo as intently as the rest of them, but were slower to react.

For Neteyam, his first though was that Lonnie was technically the firstborn child of the current Olo’eyktan, therefore giving her the right to challenge his position as future leader. He quickly pushed this thought away, scolding himself. He knew it wasn’t something that he should even be considering now, if ever.

Lo’ak liked the idea of gaining a new sibling, but hearing that she was associated with Project Phoenix put him on edge. While peering through the vegetation by the shack, his sharp eyesight had made out the writing Proj Phnx on one of the Avatars’ body armour. He’d overheard rumours from the human scientists that the RDA had developed new technology for their soldiers, but with the influx of weapons and technology that each raid brought back to High Camp, he had assumed a scientist had been given a new scanner or something. He had no idea what those people did all day, but he liked having them around.

Despite not understanding a word of Na’vi, Lonnie had heard the most important parts of the conversation, that the large blue man before her was her father. In the time that had passed since she remembered waking on the spaceship, she had racked her memory for anything resembling a father.

She’d come up empty. The furthest back she could remember was waking in that cold, dark room.

She recalled the man on the ship saying it would ease her transition, which she now knew referred to her being forcibly placed into a new body. What memories had been removed, and what they contained, were not something she would be able to find.

As the day progressed, Lonnie was led to another, larger hut and watched as the family had laid down for the night. Tuk fell asleep with her head in Lonnie’s lap. Kiri draped a blanket over both of them and sung quietly as she worked on Lonnie’s arm, heading to bed not long after Lo’ak and Neteyam turned in.

Neytiri entered and moved Tuk to a sleeping mat by the boys, gesturing to a spare one for Lonnie. She thanked the woman and laid down with Kiri’s blanket. She hadn’t managed to sleep when Jake entered. His eyes drooped, but he gave her a small smile and nod before lying down next to Neytiri, placing a hand on his mate’s waist.

Despite her initial elation at having a new sister, Tuk wasn’t quite able to get a thought out of her head. For someone so young, she had seen many betrothal ceremonies, where prospective couples would ask the Olo’eyktan’s permission to mate before Eywa. If they were permitted, then a ceremony would be held to symbolically bind their spirits together, with both parties exchanging vows of devotion.

In the time of war, many in the clan wished to be mated to their loved ones. They didn’t know how much time they may have left.

Which brought about the question on her mind.

When they moved Lonnie from Mo’at’s hut to their own, Tuk and Neteyam had left for a moment to gather food for the evening meal. Tuk didn’t want to leave her new sister, by Kiri assured her that no one would be going anywhere.

Her movements were slow as she thought about her question. The pile of foodstuffs grew much slower than the one Neteyam prepared, causing the older brother to look at her questioningly.

“Tuk-Tuk, what is the matter?” Neteyam placed his own work down and moved to the girl.

Tuk sighed and let out a small sniffle. Neteyam felt his heart break at her small voice, “If dad mated another woman, does he not love mum anymore?”

“Oh, Tuk. Do not think that.” He reached over and pulled her into a hug. “Our father was once a Sky Person, yes? And we like the Sky People who live with us?” Tuk nodded slowly. “But these Sky People have lived with us for many years. When dad came from his star, he didn’t know the ways of the Na’vi, he lived as a human. When a human mates, it is not always for life. Sometimes they decide to not be together.”

“So why do they mate at all?”

“Sky People are strange, Tuk-Tuk. But our father became Na’vi when he fell in love with mum. He loved her so much he left the Sky People completely. He loves us very much too, and he also loves Lonnie.”

He held Tuk at arm’s length and gave her a serious look. “Now, Lonnie does not know the ways of the Na’vi, so we must teach her. Are you going to be a good little sister and help her learn?”

The girl piped up, “Yes I will!”

She let out a squeal when Neteyam tickled her sides.

Tuk smiled on their way back to the hut.

When Neytiri left the tent, she stormed across the rocky terrain of her clan’s cavern to her family’s hut. As she reached then entrance, she slowed, and looked up to the ruined curtain. It had been a creation she and Jake had worked on together. They’d toiled for hours late at night, after the children had gone to sleep, intricately carving the beads from small branches and sticks and weaving the fibres together to form long ropes.

They’d hung it over the doorway of their new home together too. It helped in the transition away from the home they’d raised their children in; something else that would help them make it their own.

She’d have to collect the beads later.

She pulled the curtain aside and lifted her father’s bow to her head. She closed her eyes and exhaled slowly, lowering the bow and picking up a small bundle of arrows. These arrows, too, were a creation of hers and Jake’s.

She wrapped the arrow binding around the bow’s handle, securing them in place, and stepped out the tent. A sharp whistle brought Neytiri’s banshee fluttering down from the higher crevices, where the creatures tended to roost.

The beast was a brilliant turquoise-blue, with brown and yellow stripes running lengthways along its body. It cawed when it reached its rider, nuzzling its head into Neytiri’s chest, asking for treats. Neytiri’s frown briefly moved to a smile, patting the creature’s beak.

As the banshee’s head moved down, Neytiri glanced her mother moving towards her from the healing tent. She patted its head, quietly whispering that they would go out hunting later. The beast crooned and lifted off back to the small overhead crevices.

Mo’at slowly moved up to Neytiri like she was some wild and volatile creature. The older woman knew her daughter to need a gentle hand when angry. Often that hand came from Jake.

Neytiri glanced up at Mo’at, then down to her bow, “I do not understand why he did not tell me of her. He is Olo’eyktan, it is his duty to know that children are a gift of Eywa. She would have been accepted as a child of this family, even if she was not here.” She looked down to the forest far below.

Mo’at followed Neytiri’s gaze, “Ma ‘ite, you forget, he was not always Na’vi. Do not hold this against Jakesully, there is still much of the Sky People in him.”

Mo’at lifted a hand and placed it against Neytiri’s cheek, brushing a thumb over the silent tears. “I do not wish for there to be war forever, daughter, but these Sky People come from far away. They must choose to leave things behind on their journey here. You are the most able to understand this. Jakesully had a daughter before his journey here. I do not pretend to understand how they think, but, for whatever reason, he deemed it acceptable to leave her behind.”

She moved her hand down to Neytiri’s, resting on the bow. “Every one of the People is able to have secrets. This one did not harm you. I do very much know that he loves this family and his children. The sorrow of leaving another behind, even by choice, is not a burden many are able to carry.”

“I still do not like how the Demons left her so easily at the ship. Something does not feel right.”

Neytiri turned her back and experimentally pulled at the bowstring. Mo’at smiled slightly. For all the years that had passed, Neytiri was still as feisty now as she had been as a teenager, when she and Sylwanin would anger a herd of Sturmbeests and swing through the trees to escape them, crying with laughter.

Mo’at turned back to her tent. She had watched Jake leave in the other direction soon after her exit. Now he walked to them from his family’s hut. He silently approached the pair, trying to keep out of Neytiri’s view.

Mo’at faced him and nodded slowly. She took her leave and went back to her tent. She must teach Kiri some more effective ways to exercise one’s arm muscles.

Jake stood behind Neytiri momentarily. He knew that she was aware of his presence; she was too perceptive to not be. She diligently kept her head forward, trying to stop her ears from twitching while she waited for Jake to speak.

She waited for longer than she expected.

Finally, Jake walked forward and stopped by her side. She could feel his eyes on her face.

“I know I should’ve told you, and I’m sorry.” His voice didn’t hold the usual confidence she had grown to expect.

“I would like to know why, Jake. We have four children; you know their importance in the eyes of Eywa.”

She chanced a glance over to him. His tail swung low and slowly by his feet and his ears tucked down against his hair. He inhaled deeply and brought his eyes up to meet hers. “There was a time, before I came to Pandora and became one of the People, that I didn’t See. I didn’t See what I was given and I chose to let it go. I was a mess.”

Neytiri knew of the death of his brother before his trip to Pandora. Every now and then, she and her mother would sit and weave and tell stories of Sylwanin and Eytukan. It was how they kept their memory alive.

Jake’s eyes moved back to the ground before he continued, “I received an offer I couldn’t refuse, a way to pay my way out of that situation.”

Neytiri flared with anger. Her hands raised and pushed at his chest. He stumbled back. “You left your human daughter for this monii? Have you learnt nothing?!”

He scrunched his eyelids down to keep the water at bay. “My brother had died, and Lonnie’s mother and I were separating. She grew through such a poor time too. I’d just lost my legs and my only way of supporting them. I failed her as a father.”

Neytiri held onto her anger for as long as she could, but felt her heart involuntarily soften as a sob broke its way through Jake.

“I wanted to escape that feeling, so I ran to the opportunity to come here. I could help them both while getting myself out of their lives.” He was full on sobbing now. Neytiri watched his shoulders heave. When she reached out a hand this time, it wasn’t to push him, instead placing it on his forearm and squeezing.

“When I met you, I realised that I could start a new life here. After the Great Battle, when Neteyam was born, I realised just what I had left behind. That shame has followed me since then.” He pulled Neytiri into a tight hug. “I wouldn’t trade coming here for anything. I love you, and our children. But my biggest regret was not Seeing what leaving another daughter behind would mean. For all I knew, her mother may have already been dead when I left.”

Neytiri hesitated reciprocating the embrace. Her motherly instincts told her to stay angry at him for valuing one child below another. But the fact Lonnie was there, even if not intentionally, and Jake’s explanation, softened her resolve.

“Ma Jake, do you love our children?”

“Yes, by Eywa yes I do.”

Neytiri nodded, pressing her head into the crook of his neck. “Then take that she is here as a sign that Eywa wants you to have a second chance.”

He sniffled, “I suppose now she has more brothers and sisters to help her acclimatise. I will do everything I can to make this right.”

Neytiri hummed an agreement, closing her eyes as she moved her arms around her mate. 

The next morning, they gathered the remaining beads and set about repairing their hut’s curtain.

Chapter Text

Two days had passed before Jake was finally able to fulfil his promise to Neytiri. Every time he went to Lonnie he’d been called away for some chiefly duty. Sometimes it was a disagreement that needed settling, other times it was to help build a hut for a newly mated pair or organising a small scouting party to look for Spider.

He’d tried to walk up to Lonnie more times than he could count, before someone would shout his name from the other side of the cavern with a grave problem that needed fixing, causing him to sigh and turn around, following the other clan member.

He was trying. Truly he was. Neytiri could see it, and she was happy her mate was attempting to start the right path of rebuilding his relationship with his eldest daughter.

When Jake finally wasn’t called away, he found the girl sitting on a rock to the side of the cavern. He assumed the higher elevation allowed her to get a better grasp of the camp’s layout. Her fingers fiddled with the braiding that Lo’ak had attempted to teach her. It’d been Neytiri’s idea that she should learn how to make her own Na’vi clothing, and that started with learning how to make string and bands.

Lo’ak, Kiri and Tuk had spent most of a past couple days with her; Neteyam often off helping Jake assist with duties. They said she appeared to be integrating well into their clan, but that she seemed distant and not fully present. Mo’at said that with the removal of her memories, the RDA had also taken her sense of self and identity.

On hearing this, his kids had taken her around the village, teaching her about all the different activities she could do; how she could provide for the village, how she could entertain herself, what games the other kids played. Lo’ak was very proud to show her his Ikran, though she’d been a little hesitant to meet the flying creature. He had shown her how she could become a hunter if she so pleased.

Kiri said that she seemed to enjoy learning and trying new things in an attempt to rebuild what she had lost, but the biggest change came the second day she was there. That was the day Kiri, Lo’ak and Tuk had started to teach her the Na’vi language. Their English was good enough, what with having a native English-speaking father and spending most of their lives around English scientists, but Na’vi was their native tongue, and the one they were most proficient in.

Lonnie took to it like a duck to water. Within a day she was learning the most common words for people and objects, beginning to form basic sentences. Just this morning she had briefly greeted Jake and Neytiri in Na’vi, before being hauled out for another early language lesson.

For someone who spent years trying to jam the language through his skull, Jake had felt marginally jealous of how easily she picked it up.

When Lo’ak had told him about her ability to learn the new language, he laughed at his statement that with no memories, she was like an empty cup and would easily learn things, before reminding his son not to be insensitive to her situation.

But, even from where he was standing, he could see her apprehension. The way her ears involuntarily flicked to unfamiliar sounds and tip of her tail twitched back and forth. Given that Tuk wasn’t permanently attached to her hip, he assumed that Kiri had seen it too, likely suggesting that she and Tuk give Lonnie some time to herself.

When he saw her look up at him, he gave a small smile and stopped where he was, allowing the girl to indicate whether or not she wanted to talk. Receiving no such sign, he continued to walk forwards towards her perch.

As he reached her and clambered up the rocky climb to sit beside her, her attention had dropped to the work in her hands. She was trying to avoid eye contact.

Jake could only imagine how strange it must be to wake up in a foreign body, in a foreign place, with foreign people around her, eight years after she was last awake. Her fingers fiddled with the loose braid in her lap. Mo’at had taught both Lonnie and Kiri better ways of regaining muscle strength, and over the past couple days Lonnie had been able to move her previously limp arm, but her fine motor controls were yet to manifest for that limb.

Even still, she continued to persevere with the craft. Jake smiled at that.

“How are you doing?” He chanced a glance at her. She didn’t look fearful, so much as awkward, like she didn’t know the right words to say.

“I know this must be strange for you. I thought it was strange when I first arrived on Pandora, but I can’t compare that to you.” He hesitated, “I know you don’t remember me, but I was your dad, and I loved you. I don’t know…”

“Then why did you leave?” Lonnie’s voice trembled slightly. She didn’t look up from her work.

He reeled back, “Because I was an idiot. I found myself in some hard times and didn’t realise what I had been given.” He took her quiet work as an indication to continue.

“When you were three, my brother, your uncle, was killed in a robbery. He was part of the Avatar program. The humans had mixed his DNA with a Na’vi’s and created this body,” He gestured down to himself, “But when he died, I was offered his place on the team that would come to Pandora for research. Your mother and I were separating, and the job offer would’ve allowed me to support both of you. So I came here. When I met Neytiri, I fell in love again. When Neteyam was born, I rediscovered what it meant to love a child with every atom of your being. It was something I had forgotten with you too long ago. I left because I didn’t know what to do with myself. I realise now that I never stopped loving you, but I made some poor decisions along the way.”

Lonnie sighed and put her work down. She didn’t remember what it was like to have a family, for more than one reason. But since she woke on that ship, she knew something was missing, that someone should’ve been there for her, rather than the tall blue man she now knew was a Recombinant.

She knew what the concept of a family was; much of her knowledge remained after being forced into her new body, just her memories and identity taken, and Jake’s new family had been nothing but kind to her.

“I don’t remember having a family. I don’t remember mum, or Earth. I don’t remember how I got on that ship in the first place.” Her good hand fidgeted with the reed strands. “I know, logically, that I should be angry that you left. But I don’t remember it. It feels wrong somehow to be mad at something I don’t remember.”

Her mismatched eyes met his, Jake’s glistening slightly. She watched his chest rise and fall slowly, before he spoke, “Even though you don’t remember, it’s not an excuse for what I did. I will work to be the dad I should’ve been for you this whole time, if you’ll allow me to try?”

Lonnie nodded, then let out a small squeak when Jake yanked her into a tight hug.

“Thank you, Lonnie, thank you.” He let her go and wiped his eyes quickly, “Listen, I know you will have questions about this new body. Don’t hesitate to come to Neytiri or me if you feel you need to.” He reached behind his head and guided his queue over his shoulder, “I know it took me a while to get used to this thing.”

He received a small laugh as the girl brought up her own queue. The tendrils at the end swayed slowly in the gentle breeze that flowed through the clan’s caverns.

Jake could tell she was holding back a question. “What’re you thinking?”

She paused, letting her braid go back over her shoulder. She asked, “If I’m supposed to be the same age as Neteyam, why am I so small?”

“Actually, Max said you may be even a year older than him now.” Jake’s expression changed to one of reminiscence, “Although, if you were still on Earth, you should’ve been twenty-four by now, but with six years of travel and two years in storage, he thinks that whoever was in charge of growing this body didn’t provide it with the right nutrients. Mo’at, Neytiri’s mother, said something similar.”

He gently placed a hand on her back, “It might just be the case that you’re a bit smaller than the rest of us. Don’t let that discourage you. From how tenacious you were as a three-year-old, I don’t doubt that you’ll become a great member of the clan.”

Jake made sure to spend the rest of the afternoon with her. They spent an hour longer on the rocky point, working slowly on Lonnie’s reed braid. He had said that, with a couple beads they could carve for her, it would look great as an arm band.

Her first piece of clothing made by her own two hands.

Though the braiding was coarse, Jake had praised her workmanship.

They walked side by side through the outskirts of the village, searching for a small branch that could be turned into beads with a fine hand. They stumbled to the back of the main cavern, by the scientist’s largest shack, where the vines from the top of the mountain ran down the rockface inside. Twisted amongst the mass of green were several small branches; small enough to be easy to whittle.

Jake showed Lonnie how to determine which ones would be the best for carving; which ones were too dry and would crack, and which ones were too young, having not yet hardened enough to shape.

They sat with their backs against the cavern wall on the mossy ground. It was a comforting scene for Jake. From the same place he’d taught Neteyam, then Lo’ak and Kiri how to whittle away at branches with their knives to make jewellery. He thought it was only fitting to teach Lonnie there too.

With her one fully working arm, she held his oversized knife whilst he had the branch and followed his instructions on how to carve slices of wood away to shape the bead.

It took her several attempts to get the spherical shape right, but once she had half a dozen little wooden balls, Jake had taken the knife and carefully made a hole in the centre of each. She threaded them onto the braid and spaced them around its length.

Jake took it and tied it around her good arm’s bicep. They both smiled at her work.

It was the first time Lonnie had truly felt like she might be able to call the Omatikaya home.

That night, the whole family sat around their hut’s cookfire, sharing stories of the day. Tuk had exclaimed how pretty Lonnie looked with her new band and had offered to help her paint some of the beads the next day.

Lonnie gratefully accepted, surprising even herself with her response in Na’vi. Tuk had let out another delighted shriek whilst the rest of the family looked at her in shock. Though she taught Lonnie herself, Kiri was amazed at how she picked up the language.

Now, as Lo’ak and Neteyam helped to clear the evening’s meal away, and Tuk and Kiri started braiding Lonnie’s hair, Neytiri looked between her children. Never could she have imagined that she would have five children in her care to love and cherish.

She had told Jake that she watched him talk to Lonnie earlier that day, and that she was happy he was doing as he said he would.

But even as she watched the children talk and interact with one another, she couldn’t shake the feeling of several days prior, that something about how undefended the Samson airship had been was wrong. And how no-one prevented them from taking a young girl that had seemingly been captured.

Chapter Text

Despite her better judgement, Neytiri decided to stay up after the rest of her family had fallen asleep. She had told Jake she wanted to continue with some weaving she’d been doing that day. He’d smiled and whispered to her to come to bed soon.

She watched his chest rise and fall with quiet breaths into the cool night’s air.

In the first weeks after Jake had been transferred to his Avatar body, she would sit and watch him. Knowing that he was there, both in mind and body, was something she had yearned for since they committed themselves to each other before Eywa. Under the bond of Tsaheylu, she could feel his mind dreaming, rather than the disturbing absence that followed when his consciousness went back to his human body.

How she hated that he had had to use a machine to be with her.

Even after years of being together, she still struggled to believe that she got to spend her life with him. Their children cemented that fact in her mind, but she still revelled in the notion that it was true.

But watching her mate wasn’t the reason for staying up.

As she watched Lonnie interact with her children, a sinking feeling had crept over her. It was as if she knew something bad was going to pass, something that she could prevent. So, she sat and waited.

It wasn’t long before she started to feel sleep creep up on her, placing its gentle paws on her shoulders; she could only be on guard for so long. Trying to keep herself awake, Neytiri picked up her day’s weaving and tried to keep her hands occupied to stop her eyes drooping.

She heard a rustling from the other side of the hut and looked up. From the side the children’s sleeping mats were placed against, Lonnie twitched and rolled over in her sleep.

Sweat dripped down the girl’s forehead, streaking down to the padded mat and saturating her clothing. Neytiri made a mental note to ask one of the scientists for another set of human-styled clothes. She didn’t think Lonnie would be willing to switch to full Na’vi attire just yet.

Neytiri knew from her other children that nightmares were common after a traumatic experience. The waves of fire rolling through the forest were an all too recent event that she still remembered vividly. Try as she might, even she was not excused from the terrifying images in her own dreams.

She was used to soothing her children’s occasional murmuring or moving in their sleep. Sometimes, Neytiri would watch Kiri pull a sibling closer to her whilst having a nightmare, or Lo’ak flick an arm out.

This looked worse than that.

Lonnie started rapidly rolling side to side. Her hands swung along the ground, seemingly trying to grab something, anything. Her head shook against the sleeping mat, sweat now pouring from her brow.

“No, I don’t...” She mumbled, not waking. Her eyes scrunched closed even tighter. “You can’t make me, I won’t...”

Neytiri swung her legs, then body, over to where the girl slept. She caught Lonnie’s arm before it could slap into a sleeping Kiri.

“Please, no, don’t make me.”

Neytiri watched, horrified. Never had she seen something like this. Her mind was racing; what was she talking about? Who was she talking to in her nightmare?

Lonnie writhed again.

Neytiri kept her voice low as she grasped Lonnie’s upper arms and pulled her upright. She urgently shook her, “Lonnie, wake up.”

Lonnie slowly opened one eye and flinched her hands to protect her face. Neytiri only noticed she herself was crying when she saw Lonnie’s tears mix with her sweaty face. Neytiri moved her strong grip from the girl’s arms gently to her hands, lowering them from her face.

“Ma Lonnie, what is wrong?” The English felt scratchy in her throat after so little use in the past years.

Lonnie looked back at the woman in front of her. Neytiri’s eyes were wide with concern, her own dull and clouded behind distorted vision.

Without warning, Neytiri found herself with an armful of the small girl. Stumbling out of her surprise, she slowly wrapped her arms around Lonnie and gave her a reassuring squeeze. Though taken aback by the act, Neytiri couldn’t quite help trying to remember the last time her older children had hugged her like this.

Lonnie continued to sob quietly into Neytiri’s shoulder, “They were trying to make me do it. I don’t want to; they can’t make me. I can’t get them out of my head.”

Neytiri knew the girl wouldn’t transition immediately; not after what she experienced, but she had had no indication the girl was hearing voices.

At the sound of Lo’ak and Tuk stirring, Neytiri quietly suggested they move outside so Lonnie could get a drink. Lonnie stood slowly, never taking her arms away from Neytiri.

They brushed past the now repaired curtain and moved away from the hut to a small pile of boxes. Neytiri lowered them down and pulled a nearby blanket over Lonnie; the cool night air moving through the mountains wasn’t something many were used to. They were far more accustomed to the humidity of the forest below. The older woman gave Lonnie another quick hug before grabbing a small cup and walking to the nearby stream that fed one of the waterfalls.

Lonnie sat with her head in her hands. She wouldn’t do it. She couldn’t, not after everything they’d done for her; Lo’ak for being so eager to show her what she could do to help her acclimatise, Neteyam for providing insight into the ways of the clan, and Tuk and Kiri for teaching her everything Na’vi. Jake and Neytiri had taken her in so willingly, and Jake was working hard to be a better father to her.

But the voices kept coming.

She gritted her teeth through the onslaught in her head. Each voice talked over the others, yet all saying the same thing. The tones undulated through her ears and mind, taking any attempt to form a thought with them.

She wanted to scream. The sharp nails on her fingers began to pierce the skin of her palms. She felt the warm oozing of blood across the tips of fingers. Lonnie lifted a hand and wiped away the tears, leaving dark streaks across her cheeks.

“I’m sorry Jake. I’m so sorry.” She spoke, barely audible to even herself.

Rising from her seat and letting the blanket drop behind her, she strode back to the hut. She knew Neytiri wouldn’t be long in returning.

She clenched her throat against the rising sob and gasp for air and steadied her breathing. The curtain hung before her. Through it, on the other side, lay the man the voices told her of.

Her attempt to think properly was overwhelmed by another chorus of chants through her skull. It felt like her eardrums were vibrating their way out her ears and her chest beating through her ribs.

The voices shoved her attempt aside.

She reached a hand out to brush past the curtain. She knew Neteyam carried his knife in a sheath tied to his waistband; she had watched him fall asleep with it bound there.

The voices commanded a foot forward, then the other, stepping over the prone forms of the people who’d been so kind to her. This time she did release a pained gasp. She bit her lip to seal her mouth, feeling more blood begin to pool between her teeth.

She reached Neteyam and slowly leant down to his knife. She unsheathed it and lifted it, her bloody palms coating the handle. Her good arm brought the knife up, whilst the other fought to push it back down and away from herself. The two sides of her body battled for control of the blade, but the weak muscles were no match for her working side.

Lonnie stumbled over to Jake. He was lying on his side, the place where Neytiri normally slept remaining open. He had instinctively left that space available.

“I’m sorry Jake.” Lonnie cried.

Just as she lifted the blade above his side, Neytiri pushed the curtain aside. She held a small cup of water in her hand. She saw the girl poised to strike.

“Lonnie NO!” She shrieked and dropped the water.

Jake blinked an eye open at the cry and watched the knife swing down to him.

“Woah, what the hell!” He rolled to the side, knocking over the stack of plates by the cookfire.

Lonnie swung down at his arm, drawing a long gash through the muscle. Neytiri leapt across the room, stepping on Lo’ak’s tail, and knocked Lonnie in the shoulder.

The young girl jumped across Jake and jabbed at his chest. He recoiled, but the knife went cleanly across the skin of his stomach, bleeding profusely. He held his arm close to his chest as he retreated across the hut.

The other children had woken and shuffled back against the walls of the hut. Neteyam sprung into a low crouch in front of his siblings, facing Lonnie, and reached for his knife. He patted the empty scabbard then looked, shocked, back at Lonnie. Tuk was crying, Lo’ak and Neteyam too frozen to react any other way.

The freeze thawed.

Lonnie flipped the knife in her grip, holding it inverted, and lunged back at Jake. She swiped down, Jake blocking the motion, but sending a pulse of blood from his arm.

Lonnie hooked the knife back up, being blocked again.

Neytiri shuffled to the side and lunged with outstretched arms. Lonnie dodged and struck an uppercut into Neytiri’s cheek. The woman fell to the ground. She swept her leg against Lonnie’s, taking the smaller girl down.

Lonnie rolled back over her shoulder and onto her feet. She hissed and brandished the knife.

“Lonnie, what is this?!” Jake gasped as he applied pressure to his cut stomach.

Lonnie had watched powerlessly from behind her eyes as her body didn’t respond to her commands to stop. But, just for a moment, she returned to control.

Jake watched as his daughter looked at the knife in horror and dropped it to the ground.

“I’m sorry Jake. They made me do it. The people in the machine… Miles Quaritch... They made me do it.” She looked through all the terrified faces of the family opposite her. Tears mingled with the dark streaks of semi-dried blood on her checks, some of it Jake’s. They all moved back at Quaritch’s name.

Just as fast as it came, the girl he knew as his daughter left. Lonnie straightened her back upright. Her eyes had gone back to a cloudy state; the colours dulling. Her face slackened. The blood from her lip trickled from the edges of her mouth, slowly dripping down.

That was not his daughter in control.

In the time it took him to react, Lonnie had grabbed the knife off the ground, taken a leap forward and thrown it towards Jake’s head. It sailed through the air, spinning end over end. Jake ducked below it, sparing a glance behind to see a hole in the wall of the hut; the knife clattering to the ground against the rocks outside.

He turned back to Lonnie taking a quick step. She placed a foot on a box and pushed up into the air, fist raised.

Neteyam sprung forward from his crouch. He pounced against her legs, knocking her out the air and onto the far side of the hut. Her head whipped against the wall with a sickening crack, her body falling limp on the floor below Neteyam.

He crawled off her and jumped to a small pile of boxes. Within them, he found a coil of rope. It was coarse, woven by Tuk, but it would do. He bound Lonnie’s ankles together, then pulled her hands behind her back and tied them there.

Jake leant against Neytiri, who placed an arm around his back, taking most of his weight.

“Kiri, go get Grandmother. Now!” Neytiri pressed Jake’s good arm onto his bleeding stomach. Her other hand tried to hold the cut on his arm closed. She could feel the warm liquid oozing over her own skin.

Jake managed a slurred mumble, “Take Tuk with you.” He slipped in Neytiri’s grip, causing her to pull him against her hip for more support. He could feel his consciousness fading.

“Lo’ak, get Norm.” Lo’ak dashed out the hut at his mother’s words.

Neteyam came and helped lower his father to the ground. He gathered a small bundle of fabric and placed it below Jake’s head. He pulled a strip off and copied as Neytiri wrapped it tightly around the deep cut to keep it closed.

“I’m doing…” Jake coughed, “Fine. It’s just a little blood loss.” His attempt at a smile was not reciprocated.

Kiri and Tuk soon returned with a rather frazzled looking Mo’at. They both shook where they stood, clutching at each other as Mo’at called for medical supplies.

Not long after that, Norm and Lo’ak returned, the former gasping at scene.

“What happened?!” He flicked his gaze to where Neteyam held his now retrieved knife over Lonnie.

Neytiri pulled herself up on the side of the hut. “Lonnie attacked Jake. She woke earlier talking of voices in her head, saying the Demon Quaritch told her to do it.”

They all turned when Lo’ak gasped from behind them. “Quaritch. It was Quaritch at the Samson. He took Spider. He’s a Recom.”

Chapter Text

Lonnie felt a strange sense of déjà vu on waking. The room was a clean silver, although much smaller than the last strange, metallic room she woke up in. This time, there was no bed-like metal plank for her to lie on. Instead, she found herself propped up on the floor of the room, resting against the wall.

She glanced down at her hands and legs. Still blue. But bound at her ankles and wrists, only just then feeling the restraints. She flexed her fingers, scrunching them closed, then extending them out in an attempt to restore blood flow and feeling.

A dull throbbing emanated from the side of her skull. She lifted her hands to awkwardly brush aside the braids and press against the bone. The throbbing didn’t subside, only sending a more intense pulse down her neck every few seconds.

It all came crashing down on her. The voices. The knife. Jake. She tightened her muscles against the flood of realisation that swept through the tiny room. She threaded her hand through the beads in her hair, the ones Kiri and Tuk had put there. Was that the night before? Was it days ago?

As her digits moved, Lonnie could feel the panic begin to creep up on her, like a spider climbing up her spine. Her eyes darted to the door on the far side of the room, but the small frosted glass window betrayed nothing of what was on the other side.

She breathed in deeply and slowly, trying to fill her lungs, the way Jake had taught her. With shaky hands and legs, she managed to crawl to the door, and reached up to the handle. It wouldn’t budge.

She fell back to the ground and looked to the ceiling. It lowered. She flicked to the walls. They moved closer.

The room shrunk rapidly till her arms pressed against either side to keep them away. Sweat dripped over her as her face burnt with fear. Her feet kicked out against the encroaching space. She screamed.

The sound reverberated. She pressed her shoulders against her ears. Her breathing had moved to heavy pants.

The door swung open, and the walls receded.

The bright light forced her to look away from it, to the ground. She saw three sets of feet, two pairs large and blue, the other small and pale.

Looking up, she saw the faces of Jake, Neytiri and Norm. Neytiri held her bow in her hand, an arrow nocked, but not drawn. Her face was impassive, but even from the floor of the small room, Lonnie could tell her eyes burned.

Jake’s arm was wrapped tightly in a light brown cloth, then slung across his chest with a strap of leather tied around his neck. The same material was wrapped around his middle.

Neither of them wore the masks she’d seen Lo’ak and Kiri wear whilst breathing human air.

Norm stood to the side of Jake, a rebreather unit strapped to his face. Lonnie didn’t miss the pistol holster attached to his trousers.

Jake’s eyes betrayed some kind of hurt as he watched Lonnie crawl further from Neytiri’s bow. He would have hoped that she knew they wouldn’t hurt her, but now he wasn’t sure.

In the couple days Lonnie had spent with the Omatikaya, she’d never seen Norm to be anything but jovial, but now his face was downright scary. Completely blank.

Jake nodded to Neytiri, who glared slightly back at her mate, whispering something in Na’vi. Jake gestured for Norm to enter with him. Both men crouched just inside the doorway, forcing Lonnie to shuffle back in the tiny room.

Neytiri sat cross-legged against a too-small table outside with her bow in her lap. The arrow never left it, neither did the fiery look from her eyes.

Lonnie tried to avert her gaze from the wounds she inflicted on Jake. She knew she would never elect do that to him, but it was still her hand that swung the blade, still her body that attacked him, even if her mind had told her to stop.

Jake’s voice came first, “What do you remember?” He spoke as though he was the one that had wronged her, an anxious tone slipping through.

As Jake’s closest confident, aside from Neytiri, Norm was privy to almost all the information Jake had about the internal workings of the tribe. He’d heard everything about Lonnie and Jake leaving her behind a thousand times, but very little about the happenings that brought Lonnie to them. From what Jake had said about how little she remembered, Norm had the sneaking suspicion that the RDA wouldn’t take absolutely everything. Or if they had, that Lonnie had told them all of it.

“Be truthful, we want everything. What do you know about Miles Quaritch?” Norm asked. He crouched to the side and slightly behind Jake. He may know how to use a gun proficiently, but he was not a warrior at heart.

They could see the thoughts going through Lonnie’s head as she tried to remember. Finally, she stammered out, “He was the one on the ship. He was a Na’vi, but had five fingers…”

“An Avatar then?” Norm asked. He glanced over to Jake.

“Not possible. Without his human body, he would not be able to control the Dreamwalker. Unless they copied his soul?” It was Neytiri who spoke next. For someone who knew so little about the actual workings of an Avatar, she had a strong grasp of the basic concept of how a human connected to one.

They turned back to Lonnie.

“You say you were put in a machine that transferred your mind to this body?” Jake gestured his unbound arm to her. When she nodded, he continued, “What happened then?”

“Um,” Her breath hitched in her throat, “It started spinning. It didn’t hurt, but I remember hearing voices. Hundreds of them, all chanting.” She drew her legs to her chest and looked to the ground, then spoke in a small voice, “They told me to kill you. Then I woke up here. I heard them again when I…” Her voice trailed off.

Neytiri didn’t look satisfied, but allowed Jake and Norm to leave the room before locking the door behind them. Jake tried to ignore Lonnie’s quiet whimper.

“She’s hearing voices and hallucinating. Any family history around that?” Norm pondered.

“No. There was nothing like that on my side or her mother’s side.” Jake responded.

“Jake, she was forcibly taken from one body and put in another, then grown in an amnio tank for eight years without proper nutrition. We have no idea what effects that could’ve caused!”

Jake shook his head in defeat, “She was always so happy as a child; she wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“Then she could’ve been brainwashed in that machine. I’ve heard through the grapevine that the RDA had new tech brought in, but these bodies take years to grow, even with accelerants! If Quaritch has been reborn in a Na’vi body, then this machine project was likely highly advanced by the time Lonnie was transferred.”

“The RDA used her as an assassin, my daughter.” As much as it pained him, he had to detach from his personal feelings for the girl. He was the Olo’eyktan, one whose clan was threatened. “If it was started so long ago, would anyone else here know anything about it?”

“I’ll ask around, but I doubt it. Something like this would’ve been kept a tight secret.”

Tuk hadn’t ventured out much in the couple days since Lonnie had attacked her dad. Kiri and Neteyam attempted to lighten the mood, taking her down to the forest to pick berries, or playing games with her and the other children, but Tuk didn’t leave their sides outside the hut.

The youngest Sully didn’t miss the whispers of her parents and siblings about the girl that attacked them. She would pretend not to notice when her mum and dad’s quiet conversations grew slightly louder from the other side of the hut. She would sit and play with her wooden Toruk, or carve small beads with the knife she’d been given for her most recent birthday.

She may not have understood the implications of what they were saying, but she didn’t miss a thing. They were talking about Quaritch, the man her parents had fought and defeated in the Great Battle.

She knew the story by heart. It was one Jake would tell all his children when they were small. He’d huddle them together in their hut as the wet season rains poured down. More often than not, several of the clan’s other children would join them, and sometimes adults and teenagers, listening to their Olo’eyktan tell the tale again and again.

It was one he told to the wonder and awe of the younger children. They would gasp when he told them how he tamed the Toruk, cheer when the clans united, coo at him when he reunited with Neytiri, and watched with fixated gazes when he told them how he passed through the Eye of Eywa.

He’d watch them re-enact scenes from the story with glee, but it always came with a bitterness in his chest. He always left out the extent of the death and destruction that the Sky People brought with them in that battle, instead choosing to simply say that the Na’vi lost many fine warriors, but defeated the invaders, before forcing said invaders back to their dying planet.

The façade of story was shattered the moment the waves of fire rolled across the planet, disintegrating everything in their path.

Tuk sat on the stairs outside a shack. The scientists’ equipment had been moved to one side within, their workstations temporarily removed and the storeroom cleared out and turned into a holding cell. Lo’ak and Kiri had been instructed to deliver food to Lonnie, and to escort her to the shack’s bathroom, but had been given strict orders by Neytiri to not unbind her hands or speak to her. One of the older warriors had been positioned outside the makeshift cell, working in shifts with several others.

When they exited the previous day, they murmured about how Lonnie made no attempt to communicate; how she hung her head and shuffled to the food they placed by the door. She had looked up when she saw the practice card Kiri had hidden beneath Lonnie’s bowl. On it was written a list of Na’vi words and phrases to allow her to continue practicing, and several exercises to help with her arm. Kiri didn’t miss the remorseful, yet thankful expression Lonnie gave her.

Tuk had listened as their parents had lectured Kiri about how prisons generally worked, though Jake was a lot more half-hearted than Neytiri in that lesson.

As the trio walked towards their family tent, they slowed upon hearing their parents’ raised voices within. Kiri paced forwards and knelt by one of the gaps in the woven panel walls. She pressed her ear against the opening whilst keeping her body out of sight. She gestured to Tuk and Lo’ak to listen too.

After a moment, Lo’ak moved his ear and pressed an eye to the hole.

Neytiri paced back and forth across the hut. In one hand, she fiddled with her bow. “You do not know what you ask. I cannot leave my people!”

Jake raised his hands and almost shouted back, “They’re my people too, Neytiri. I have lived amongst them for fifteen years now. Do you think I would suggest this if it wasn’t the best thing for our family and clan?!”

He closed the gap between them. Placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, Jake spoke softer this time, “I do not wish to leave any more than you do, but it’s my duty as a father to keep our children safe.”

“And what of Lonnie? You would wish to bring her too?!” Neytiri pushed off him and turned her back. She tried to ignore the hurt expression that she knew would grace his face.

His hesitation to answer was all the response she needed.

“Ma Jake, she was sent by the Demons to kill you! You wish to bring her?!” She spun round and scowled at him.

Jake’s voice was almost inaudible, “She’s still my daughter. I waited for twenty-one years to see her again. I won’t leave her now she’s here. I know her, if she’s been brainwashed, I want to help her.” His downcast eyes moved to meet hers.

She scowled, “Jake, you do not know her. You left her years ago!”

Jake’s face broke. The mother of his children looked back at him for several moments, before her face slackened and eyes widened. She slowly reached a hand out and placed it on his forearm. She tried to ignore the slight twitch of it away from her grasp.

She would tell herself later that it was a slip of the tongue, that she didn’t mean it. She couldn’t tell if she was lying to herself or not.

Neytiri paced closer to him, speaking as she would to an injured animal, “My stupid mate, the man with too soft a heart.”

He gave her a pained half smile.

She continued, “But still not able to See. She is a danger to our children.”

Jake’s face sunk lower. “What of Spider then? It’s been nearly a week, and our search parties haven’t found anything. If the RDA have him, and he’s in the city, it compromises our whole operation. That puts everyone at risk.” He gestured to their children’s things strewn across the hut, some of the fire returning to his voice, “That kid knows everything; they could be on their way here right now and we wouldn’t be prepared. Quaritch will stop at nothing ‘till he gets what he wants. Me, dead.”

Jake pulled his mate into a hug.

He added, “A father protects his family, all of it. We’ll take precautions. She’ll be bound until we arrive, and then only unbound for presentation’s sake.” He lifted a hand to brush against her back, “She will ride with you, so you can keep an eye on her. We’ll do what’s necessary to protect all of the children. It won’t be forever; just until we can get Spider back and ensure our peoples’ safety. But she’s coming with us.”

“I do not like it, Ma Jake.”

He whispered, pressing a kiss to her hair, “I know, but Sullys stick together. We’ll get through this.”

He glanced to wall of the hut, hearing the quiet murmuring of his youngest child, “I think our children have overheard enough of this now. Out you come.”

Lo’ak, Kiri and Tuk walked sheepishly into the tent, avoiding their parents’ eyes.

Chapter Text

The blade fell down, striking Jake across the chest. A fine line of blood oozed out and down where it mingled with the sweat from the scorching heat of Pandora’s sun. Jake held his head high as he tried to ignore the stinging of his chest, mixed with the rising anxiety he felt.

Tarsem’s face was one of forced authority. The younger man held a steely gaze down on Jake as the garb of the Olo’eyktan was moved from one leader to the other, but Jake knew better. He’d worked with Tarsem long enough to know the warrior doubted his own abilities to lead. But he was wise beyond his years, and Jake trusted his decision-making skills. He would be a strong leader in Jake’s absence, even if temporarily.

Tarsem had been less enthusiastic about the change of leadership. Having only completed his Iknimaya several seasons prior, he argued he was not the right choice for Jake’s replacement. Jake had rebutted with the numerous times he’d led successful hunting expeditions, the occasions he’d resolved disagreements between clan members before they could come to blows, how he dedicated himself to serving his tribe.

Neytiri was less sure of the choice than Jake, but no less accepting. She argued that he was too young to have the experience to lead, and that he wouldn’t be suited to the pressure of the Omatikaya's needs. Still, even she was witness to his leadership qualities.

As the Ceremony of Travellers begun, Jake cemented his belief that Tarsem would make a fine chief.

The young warrior lifted the bowl over Jake’s head, who looked out over the faces of his people. The water from the Tree of Souls’ lower caverns poured gently down his body, cleansing him in preparation for his journey.

One by one, Neytiri, then Neteyam, Kiri, Lo’ak and Tuk stood and allowed themselves to partake in the ceremony. Lo’ak received a sharp elbow from Neteyam when he hissed at the temperature of the water.

The family turned to face Mo’at, who herself was keeping a steady face for the clan. They knew her better. The Tsahik recited the chant, asking Eywa for her blessing to keep the travellers safe, and to bring them good speed to their destination.

They took a moment to compose themselves against the flood of varied emotions that swept across the family; some terrified about walking into the unknown, others sad for leaving their friends behind, others content with the knowledge that they would be keeping their loved ones safe.

Tuk shuffled up to her mother’s side and took her hand. Neytiri glanced down at the little girl and gave a forced smile. She and Jake had explained to Tuk that them leaving was only a temporary thing; until Spider was rescued and returned to the safety of their clan, and until they were able to help Lonnie. The second point Neytiri wasn’t sure of, but she trusted her mate knew what he was doing.

Tuk kept her eyes down as Neytiri walked them through the crowd, not wanting herself to cry at the sight of them leaving everything she’d ever known.

Neteyam brought up the rear, behind Lo’ak and Kiri. He waved to friends who stood on the rocks around the Tree’s basin, all the time trying to keep a smile on his face, for the sake of his siblings. The Ceremony of Travellers was normally a joyful event, where travellers were wished on their way after a merriment of singing and dancing the previous night.

Now, it was a sombre occasion. Very few people smiled back at him. Most watched with sad expressions and slumped shoulders. Those closest to the path they walked reached out to touch at their shoulders, attempting to imprint and solidify the memories of those who were leaving for the greater safety of their people.

The clan understood the severity of the recent happenings, though very few knew the true depth of what had transpired. Neteyam had been swarmed by his fellow young warriors after the announcement that Tarsem was to take the title of Olo’eyktan. He explained all he could, although it was mostly what his father had told him to say should he be asked; that Lonnie’s mind was sick, and she had injured Jake in a panic, and they were keeping her away for everyone’s safety.

The warriors had been saddened to hear of Lonnie’s condition, but had understood the need to keep her confined. They’d grown rather fond of the new girl in the clan. Along with Lo’ak and Neteyam, they had accompanied her as she’d been shown around the camp, even inviting her into their games with their limited English. Lo’ak and Neteyam had acted as a translator for them, and Lonnie responded where she could in Na’vi.

They had spent an afternoon playing a human game Jake had taught the youngsters many years ago. Football they called it. Lonnie had only touched the bound leather ball a couple times during the game, but Kiri had remarked to her dad that Lonnie seemed to be feeling more at ease around the clan.

Now, Lonnie watched from the outskirts of the gathered assembly. An assigned guard stood next to her with spear in hand. The family’s banshees had been packed and prepared for their journey, and the creatures screeched as their riders approached.

Jake had informed Lonnie of their travel arrangements through the door of her storeroom-cell; Lonnie would fly with Neytiri, her hands would still be bound together, then tied to the saddle of Neytiri’s banshee. That had been Neytiri’s request, partially so she couldn’t escape or grasp the knife that would be attached to Neytiri’s back, the other part being to prevent the girl from falling off, having never flown while conscious on the creatures before.

Lonnie averted her eyes from the steely glare of Neytiri. The woman nodded to the warrior, who moved back to the edge of the crowd to watch their departure. Neytiri placed her hands on Lonnie’s arms and hoisted the small girl into the saddle. Lonnie fought the urge to flinch as the rope was attached to her bindings to tie her to the Ikran. Even now she didn’t trust herself. Not when the voices could return.

The warmth of Neytiri’s body against her back would’ve been soothing several days ago; the woman starting to feel like more of a mother figure, but now that also came with the knowledge that she had harmed those who had taken her in.

Jake hollered out and swung his arm above his head. Lo’ak was the first to rise off the ground, Neteyam and Jake lifting off to fly alongside him out above the forest. Kiri, with Tuk sitting in front, glanced across to Neytiri. Their mother nodded and the final two banshees took to the sky.

Lonnie let out a squeak as the ground dropped below her, bracing her legs against the smooth scales of the Ikran’s neck.

The group circled above the Tree of Souls and the Omatikaya, letting out a sound of farewell before climbing to clear the canopies. They would travel high above the ground to exploit the winds going to their destination before the fog of the ocean would force them to descend.

The group spent most of the first day of travelling above the clouds to let the winds speed them forwards, but the low temperature and lack of air forced them to descend several times to warm themselves.

The altitude took an especially hard toll on Lonnie, who had pitched forward and vomited over the side as the wind buffeted the Ikrans.

The girl would tense her muscles to the point of them becoming sore whenever she felt Neytiri adjust their flight path, sometimes to fly closer to Tuk and Kiri, others to discuss their heading with Jake.

She would listen to Kiri singing softly to the limp body of Tuk, who had quietly sobbed herself to sleep against Kiri’s chest. Kiri pulled her shawl tighter around her sister’s body as the winds whipped against their skin. She wouldn’t be able to sing much longer, for the air would almost freeze her lips.

Jake had flown in loops around Lo’ak and Neteyam in an attempt to lighten the sullen mood of his sons. Neteyam had half-heartedly joined in with the odd loop, but the true implication of them leaving had worn its way through his forced happy smile.

Lo’ak sat slumped forward against the harness of his Ikran, much to the animal’s chagrin, with his face resting on his hands. The creature whipped one of its tendrils back to flick Lo’ak in the face. He sent a quick apology through the bond and slowed down to fly beside Neytiri and Lonnie.

He looked across to the girl sitting in front of his mother. He could see the taught muscles in her neck bulging against her skin, and her rigid arms holding the rope that bound her to the Ikran. Her skin had become even more pale against the frigid air.

The Na’vi clothing she had been told to wear didn’t look anywhere near as warm as the clothes she would’ve been used to as a human. She’d been given a traditional reed and cloth waistband and loincloth, along with a coarsely woven top-piece of string and leather bands. Lo’ak knew from experience that it was the sort of clothing a young tribe member would make early in their training. The items were plain and with no decorations or beading. The only jewellery she wore was the band she and Jake had woven the night before she attacked him, tied around her bicep.

He may do stupid things frequently, but he wasn’t dumb. He knew the clothes were to aid in her image that she was one of them, part of the clan, rather than a brainwashed girl used as unwilling assassin. Wherever his parents were taking them, he assumed they would need to look like a cohesive unit.

He wondered how the people they travelled to would react to her mismatched eyes.

Lo’ak and his siblings had talked at length about Lonnie after that night. When they learnt of the voices she heard, and their persuasive powers, their opinion of her softened. She wasn’t a trained assassin; she was someone who had undergone a huge amount of trauma and was suffering the effects. Albeit she was someone with a very close connection to their dad.

Even still, they weren’t opposed to the precautions their parents had implemented. Lonnie may be in control now, but they didn’t know enough about what the RDA had done to her to understand what triggered her assassin programming.

Lo’ak was pulled from his reverie when Lonnie shrieked and Neytiri pulled rapidly to the side, gaining altitude until she was above the higher clouds.

“Everyone, up!” His dad’s voice echoed through the sky from his leading banshee.

Lo’ak took one moment to question why, before quickly commanding his Ikran to ascend. Through the gaps in the cloud cover, even from their height, he saw a small collection of boats speeding along the surface of the ocean below.

They resembled the trains and airships the RDA used; their metal glinting against the deep blue of the water they sat on, the same angular shapes and large letters painted on them.

When the humans first returned, the seasoned clan warriors, those who fought in the Great Battle, had taught the Omatikaya and several surrounding clans the best way to avoid their scanners. For the Ikran riders, they were to keep their bodies low and pressed against their mounts’ backs, to hopefully make the humans see them as passing wildlife.

They altered their path to the right, away from the direction the boats travelled. Lo’ak could hear Tuk’s sharp breathing from where his Ikran flew. He gave a worried look to Kiri, who’s face mimicked his own.

After several tense minutes of travel, the boats had disappeared beyond their view. Hopefully the Sky People attributed their change of direction to the general aversion Pandoran wildlife had to the humans. Either way, it took a while for Lo’ak’s breathing to calm.

They continued high for another full day, not daring to descend below the cloud cover. Their stomachs rumbled with the lack of a proper meal, but Neytiri handed out some small parcels of food to keep them going.

By midday, more than a day and a half after their departure, Lo’ak noticed that the seas below took on a lighter tone. He could see the bottom in parts, where large, strange looking creatures swam through rocky underwater outcrops, nothing like anything from the forest.

They reached a rock wall, where waves crashed and broke over the peak, feeding smaller pools on the other side. Na’vi with teal skin stood from where they worked, watching as the fleet of Ikrans descended.

Lo’ak heard a horn travel over the water, bringing many Na’vi to the sandy spit of land they set down on. He watched his mum quickly remove the bindings from Lonnie’s hands, lifting her down to the sand. She kept a firm grip on the girl’s shoulder, and they turned to face the Metkayina clan.

Chapter Text

Through their teachings, Kiri, Lo’ak and Neteyam had not told Lonnie how different clans may adapt to better suit their environments.

Lonnie had not known where they were travelling to as they left the Tree of Souls, but after glancing water far below them on the flight out, she had gathered it was somewhere oceanic. She had expected to see other Na’vi resembling the Forest People, but the clan that stood around her took on a much lighter, teal tone.

Almost a hundred members of the Metkayina clan gathered around the family, and Lonnie was thankful for the strong hand Neytiri had placed on her shoulder. She knew it was to keep her close, now that her wrist bindings had been hastily removed, but it gave her a sense of reassurance; that she wasn’t the only one subject to their stares.

Lonnie quickly noted some of the differences between the Metkayina and the Omatikaya, aside from the change in skin tone. The Omatikaya had developed lean and sinuous muscle to allow them to climb and run high through the trees. Their tails had adapted to aid in balance, but the Metkayina tails were broad and flat, like that of a tadpole. They also possessed significantly more bulky muscles, putting many of them almost a head taller than Neteyam and Neytiri. Only Jake was a match for their size.

It made Lonnie even more conscious of her small stature.

Tuk must’ve had the same thought, for she was huddled up to Jake’s leg.

Lonnie cautiously eyed the congregation around her. She made contact with a couple onlookers, who took a sudden step back when they noticed her eyes. Lonnie kept them downcast afterwards, but she could still feel the pinpricks of stares on her skin.

When she heard Jake speaking, she glanced up.

Standing before Jake was an enormous man, taller than anyone she had seen. She took in the intricate design of his chest armour and the braids in his hair. Lonnie may not know anything about this clan, but she knew that something of that craftsmanship betrayed a level of status.

Lonnie picked out words through the conversation, her Na’vi having made significant improvements, but she couldn’t string them together to understand the sentence. Her ears flicked to hear what they said better, whilst still trying to avoid the gazes of those around her.

Then she felt a more foreboding set of eyes look upon her. That woman was Tsahìk; Lonnie recognised her ability to read a person entirely through just looking at them.

“What brings you here, Toruk Makto?” Tonowari was a respected chieftain, having fought alongside the Omatikaya in the Great Battle. Jake had only spoken to him during the battle and aftermath, and only of the operations necessary to run their clans.

They had not spoken of personal matters, and that scared Jake.

“We seek Uturu.” Jake stretched his arms out and gestured to his family behind him.

“Uturu?” The imposing form of Ronal sidled up to her mate.

Jake had never met her, but Mo’at spoke of her as one of the most skilled healers of the Omatikaya’s allied clans. Mo’at had been friends with the woman’s mother, before her passing into Eywa.

Jake could feel the pleading seep into his next words. “Sanctuary for my family. A great evil is upon us.” Tuk tugged at his belt gently and blinked at him with owlish eyes. He lifted the girl against his side and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek.

“The Sky People have already returned, Jakesully, what is this new evil you speak of?” Tonowari planted the butt of his spear in the sand and raised his hand to Jake.

“The enemies that wanted to destroy us are back. They were killed in the battle, but have been revived in Avatar bodies. They seek-“

His words cut off when Ronal spoke, “Do you not have humans who use these Avatars in your clan?”

Jake nearly physically flinched at the prickling stare of the Tsahìk; it seemed both her and Mo’at possessed the same skill. “We do, but they are driven by people we chose to stay. They are loyal to the Na’vi. But these other Avatars, they have a human mind in them, they don’t need a driver.”

He hoicked Tuk further up into his arms, about to start speaking again, but it was Neytiri who continued, “The Sky People found a way to restore their perished souls into these bodies. They did not pass through the Eye of Eywa as my husband did. They are not true Na’vi, but they hunt our family.”

Jake didn’t miss the way the edges of her mouth pulled back as she spoke. Her watch could scare the skin off a Viperwolf, but it was matched by Ronal’s own. It was a verbal challenge, one to remark that Jake’s status as Na’vi was not to be questioned.

Sensing what Jake did, Tonowari stood his spear and placed a hand on Jake’s shoulder. He turned to speak to the gathered crowd, “Toruk Makto is a great war leader, but our people are not at war. We are sea people, you are forest people.”

Tuk sniffled into her father’s neck and clung to him tighter. “Do we have to go?”

“We’re done with war. The Sky People captured my children’s human friend. He won’t betray us, but he has information. I just want to keep my family safe.”

“Bah, this Sky Person child should be where he belongs. He is not Na’vi.” Ronal swatted a hand dismissively.

Even Neytiri didn’t bother to admonish her children for the hiss they let out.

Jake could feel the rising tension of the situation, for even his skills as a negotiator ended at a point. He watched Ronal stroll through his family. Neytiri let out a hiss when the Tsahìk picked up her tail.

She tugged at Kiri’s queue, who pulled it back into her own hands and stoked it gently. “Your tails are small and thin. You will be slow in the water.”

Jake’s face sunk when he saw that she noticed Lo’ak’s hand.

“These children are not even true Na’vi.” She pulled the boy’s hand into the air, “They have demon blood!”

Lo’ak scrunched his eyes shut and dropped his head when a gasp swept through the crowd. He was thankful for the growl Neteyam let out from his position beside him.

“Look, look!” Jake waved his hand in front of Ronal’s view. She gave him an annoyed glare. “Look, I was born of the Sky People, but now I am Na’vi. You can adapt. We will adapt!”

“Hmm. And what of this child?” Ronal pressed two fingers under Lonnie’s chin. When the girl didn’t move her head, the Tsahìk pushed harder. Lonnie relented and stared defiantly back. She may not understand the teal woman very well, but she already knew she didn’t like her; she was cruel to those who sort safety.

Ronal barely reacted to the mismatch of deep purple and faded yellow. She hummed, “This child is different. Her mind is twisted, not easy to read. She is not one of yours.” The words she spoke to Neytiri weren’t a question.

“Our clan takes people in when they need aid. She is with us.” Neytiri could feel her hackles raise and ears fold back as she spoke to the woman.

Lonnie could feel the unkindness practically rolling of the Tsahìk. She felt the swell of injustice rise in her chest that threatened to break loose, but she tempered the voices that wanted to rise to shouts in her mind. It would do no good to speak to their potential hosts in such a manner, especially as she didn’t know exactly what they talked about. Instead, Lonnie chose to steel herself against the stares and level her glare back at the woman.

“I apologise for my mate, she has travelled a long way and is exhausted.” Jake placed himself between the waring women.

“Ma Jake, do not speak for me-“

He levelled a sideways glare at Neytiri, who let out a quite hmph and relented. Jake turned back to Tonowari and Ronal, but not before intertwining his tail with Neytiri’s.

Neytiri schooled her features into a calm façade, but the words of Ronal continued to flash through her mind. She spoke more quietly this time, calmer, “Uturu has been asked.”

Jake had thrown everything into this plan. He had no backup should the Metkayina decide to refuse their request, no place to take his family. They would be outcast from the place that would keep them safe, and put their own clan in danger should they return.

“I don’t want to go, dad.” Tuk sniffled into his ear.

“I know, I know.”

Neteyam had placed a comforting hand on Kiri, who had pulled her shawl tighter around her body as if to block out the clan members that still watched them with a mix of inquisitive and judgemental stares.

Tonowari looked at the family before him. He knew Jake was a protector. He led the clans to victory against the Sky People and was not one to back down from a fight. But Tonowari also knew the ebbs and flows of fatherhood, how a parent would do anything in their power to protect their loved ones. If Toruk Makto had deemed it necessary to leave his own clan, then Tonowari could determine the severity of their situation.

He faced Ronal. Since their mating, more than two decades ago, they were able to communicate without words. Their children had said it was creepy how they could decide things between them without uttering a sound.

Ronal scowled, but did not reject Tonowari’s reasoning.

He raised his spear and turned slowly to face each of his clansmen, “Toruk Makto and his family will stay with us. They do not know the water, so they will be like babies, taking their first breaths. Treat them as our brothers and sisters, teach them our ways, so they do not suffer the shame of being useless.” He turned back to Jake to speak the last line.

“Thank you, brother.”

Tonowari raised his hand to his forehead and dipped it down. Then, gesturing to a teenaged boy and girl, both around Neteyam’s and Kiri’s age, “These are my children, Aonung and Tsireya. They will show you to a spare Marui pod.”

Lonnie tried to focus on putting one foot in front of the other as she walked along the woven walkways that stretched between the Metkayina’s living pods. The flaxen material flexed as she placed each step, taking a significant effort to not fall over.

The little terrain she’d experienced in this body had been hard and unforgiving rock, covered in part by softer moss and leaves. Her feet were still tender after the walks she’d taken around the Omatikaya High Camp with Kiri and Tuk, but the mesh was very dissimilar.

Tuk seemed to be enjoying herself though. Jake led their group through the village behind Tsireya, followed by Kiri and Tuk, the young girl bouncing happily along the strung floor.

Lonnie tried to shut out the mothers and fathers pulling their inquisitive children away from the newcomers, the whispers she could hear but not understand coming from adjacent pathways, and the prickle of Neytiri’s eyes on the back of her head.

She supposed she should be used to it. She was an outsider, an alien, a freak, even to the Omatikaya with their decades of experience interacting with Avatars. She couldn’t call herself a Na’vi, she felt barely more than a tool used by the RDA, sent light years away to complete one task. And she’d even failed at that.

She accepted the binds Neytiri tied around her wrists once Tsireya had shown them where they’d be staying. Sitting had been made harder without the use of her hands on the bouncy floor, but she dropped near Neytiri’s feet and behind the other children.

She knew the gap between them wasn’t intentional, but it still felt necessary to her.

She was thankful when Jake spoke in English.

“I know this isn’t what we want, but it’s what’s best, for the moment. Now I need you kids to keep your heads down and work hard. Learn fast, don’t let them think poorly of you.” He addressed all of them. “Sullys stick together. Say it with me.”

The despondent faces of the children muttered the mantra half-heartedly, none of them making eye contact.

“That’s good, with a little more feeling this time.”

“Sullys stick together.” They murmured a little louder.

Jake’s eyes momentarily met Lonnie’s from across the space. He nodded encouragingly to her. His face sunk slightly when she retracted in on herself.

She tried to kill him, she didn’t deserve the kindness she’d been given.

Chapter Text

The coolness of the air and springiness of the floor caused sleep to avoid Lo’ak. He lay with his head against the sleeping mat and listened to the lapping of waves around the roots the village was built on. The gentle sound of slowly moving water contrasted with the racing thoughts in his head.

He was never one to be able to sleep with something on his mind. Even hours after Eclipse had begun and Pandora had slowly settled into darkness, he laid still and thought of what had transpired over the past nearly two weeks.

They’d found a girl who turned out to be his dad’s long-lost daughter, unwillingly placed into a Na’vi body and brainwashed into being an assassin, learnt that Quaritch had been revived as a Recombinant and had been living for many years now, had Spider taken from them and likely used by the Sky People to gain information, and had to flee their home to live with strangers.

Around him, his family rested. After Jake and Neytiri retired for bed, each of the children had risen from their own mats and moved to where their parents slept, forming a pile of softly slumbering Na’vi. Except for Lonnie.

Lo’ak lay with his back pressed up against Kiri’s, who herself was wrapped around Tuk. Though they used to sleep like this frequently when he was younger, the humidity of the forest’s wet season caused it to often become uncomfortably sweaty with their body heat, but a gentle breeze lifted coolness from the ocean and brought it to them through the pod.

He and his father had taken a walk through the village after unpacking last night to send their thanks to Tonowari once again. They had dipped their heads respectfully upon greeting the Metkayina Olo’eyktan, who had explained that his children would take the Sully children tomorrow at first light to begin teaching them the ocean clan’s ways.

Tonowari had instructed Jake to meet him and several other warriors on the outskirts of the reef to learn from their finest fighters, and for Neytiri to work with the village’s healers, healing a band of warriors who had been injured on a recent hunt. Jake had accepted gratefully, but requested that Neytiri and Lonnie be able to stay back at their hut, just for the day.

At Tonowari’s confusion, Jake explained that Lonnie is his daughter, but was experiencing some health issues that Neytiri would tend to. Lo’ak had rolled his eyes at that understatement, but said nothing further.

Tonowari had accepted, but just for the day.

Jake explained to his son that Lonnie would need to be watched to see how her mind would adapt to the new environment, and that he would continue to teach her Na’vi so she could join the others the day after, provided they all kept a close eye on her.

Lo’ak immediately knew that his mother would not be happy about letting Lonnie spend time with them without her watching over, but they needed to keep up a façade of her being a functional part of the family.

Lo’ak looked over to where the girl slept on the other side of the Marui pod.

From there, she looked just like any of his other siblings, asleep on the reed matting. She wore the same style of clothing, had similar markings on her skin, spoke the same language, at least partially.

To any onlooker, she would simply look like a younger child who had just begun their training.

He felt for her, truly he did. He may not be able to put himself in her shoes, but he knew what it was like to feel as though he disappointed his family and existed to only cause trouble.

Though he only knew fear when she attacked his father, he looked back on that moment with his current context.

She was scared.

She didn’t want to attack his family, and he now understood the change in expression that happened that night. She was not in control, not able to keep her body from acting on the commands of the voices in her mind.

After spending several days with her after her arrival at High Camp, Lo’ak had seen how she could open up and enjoy her new environment. She had laughed and joined in with their activities. Sure, she had been reserved, but who wouldn’t be when forcefully thrust into a new body and culture?

As if reading his mind, Lonnie stirred from her sleep. She sat up with her back to him, her blanket pooling around her waist and staring at her bound wrists in her lap.

Lo’ak pushed up onto his elbow and whispered to her, “Hey, Lonnie, you doing alright?”

Her head slowly pivoted around to face towards the family pile of sleeping Na’vi. Lo’ak instantly recognised the dull eyes, slack face and taught shoulders. It was the stance that brought about harm to his father and shock to his family.

She was not in control now.

Her normally luminous eyes narrowed their now dull gaze onto the sleeping form of his father, huddled into the arms of his mate and surrounded by his family. Through the sounds of the waves below, Lo’ak could only just make out her deep and slow breathing, her heart beating no faster.

It unsettled the boy even more. The body language he read said that she was still asleep, but her eyes were open. It was like her mind was still unconscious and she was operating solely on autopilot.

When he was younger, he stumbled away from his family as they went hunting, to chase a wood sprite, in the process getting himself turned around and spending several hours trekking through the trees. Amongst the thick foliage, he had come face to face with a Palulukan. The beast hadn’t attacked, just remained still and staring. It had scared the life out of him, not the fact the predator was near him, but the way it seemed to look through him.

It was the same way Lonnie looked at Jake.

He slowly pulled his legs up into a crouch and leant over to nudge his dad, careful to avoid waking Kiri or Tuk.

“Dad, hey dad. You need to leave the pod, quickly.” His poking remained un-responded to. His father slept through with heavy snores, so Lo’ak took to tugging lightly on his ear and prodding his cheek. “Dad, you really need to go outside.” He whispered.

“Huh, what?” Jake opened one eye and saw Lo’ak’s urgent expression. He lifted himself up and blinked the sleep out of his eyes and rubbed a hand down his face. Neytiri curled her arm into herself, unconsciously aware of the loss of warmth. Neteyam let out a soft groan when his mother tugged him in with her other arm.

“Dad, look!” Lo’ak whisper-shouted to his dad, who was still trying to focus his gaze.

Glancing to the side of the pod, Jake saw what Lo’ak gestured to. Lonnie’s face looked directly at him. She didn’t tug against her bindings or move from her sleeping mat, she just stared.

Jake fumbled behind him for Neytiri whilst not taking his eyes off his daughter. His hand misjudged the distance and pulled a groggy Neteyam from sleep, before finding his mate’s arm and waking her too.

They both sat up and murmured to him, asking why they were woken. Jake didn’t reply, and when he pointed to Lonnie, they both gasped. Neteyam’s hand instinctively went down to his knife and prepared to pull on the hilt, but Jake stayed his movement.

For several moments, no one moved.

Then Lo’ak looked back to his parents and reiterated his early statement, “Dad, you need to leave. Go outside, she should go back to sleep.”

Neteyam nodded his agreement and hopped to his feet, stumbling slightly on the stretched flooring. The brothers lifted their dad to his feet and slowly pushed him towards the entrance. As they paced across the room, Lonnie’s head turned to follow them. The rest of her body remained completely still, like it had been frozen and turned to stone.

Jake felt no fear for himself, but the paralysing knowledge that his daughter was having another attack made his legs feel like they were moving through honey; his motions slow and unresponsive. His daughter, his firstborn child, was being called to by unknown voices planted in her head. This time she didn’t regain control, her true mind was sucked beneath the surface of the one that wished to harm him.

Slowly, he pulled his gaze away from Lonnie as his sons led him down to a quiet beach. They sat him down on the cool sand and rested beside him, leaning their heads onto his shoulders. His thoughts gradually slowed to a walking pace and he sent a prayer to Eywa for the help of his sons. Jake lifted his arms and pulled them into his sides.

After several moments, they heard the soft movement of feet through sand. They turned and watched Neytiri pace across.

“She has gone back to sleep. I do not know if she will remember this in the morning.” Jake rose to press a kiss to his wife, then pulled his sons up.

“Thank you.” Jake whispered.

Neytiri gave him a soft smile. “Oh course, Ma Yawne. I will stay watch till morning.”

Lonnie could practically reach out and grab the tension from the air the next morning. She woke as Eclipse ended to see Neytiri sat on the other side of the pod with a dagger and polishing cloth in hand. She watched the woman clean the handle to a fine shine for several minutes, with the full knowledge that Neytiri knew she was awake, before the woman asked how she’d slept.

“Um, fine?” She had responded.

“Hmm.” Neytiri made brief eye contact with the girl, before setting her knife down and starting to prepare for the morning meal.

One by one, other members of the family awoke and started their morning routines, putting away the sleeping mats, helping Neytiri with the food and braiding unkempt hair.

Neteyam and Lo’ak had given her strange expressions briefly when they saw she had already woken. She had tried to shrug it off as them being curious to her reaction to spending the night in another new place. They were always a curious pair, but often considerate enough to not outright ask.

What had confused her even more was that Kiri and Tuk hadn’t reacted in any abnormal way, aside from the normal actions taken around a brainwashed assassin. They didn’t give her any strange looks or skirt around the opposite side of the tent from her, merely saying good morning.

Lonnie had tried to respond in kind, but found her throat to be dry and scratchy. Neytiri wordlessly passed her a small cup of water.

The strangest response was from Jake. He had barely taken his eyes off her. She’d spot him staring at her, then quickly averting his gaze when he realised she noticed. He was not a master of subtlety.

From the corner of her vision, she could see a pained expression pull at his eyes whilst he lifted his mouth into an outwardly happy but forced smile. More than once she had noticed him almost instinctively try to reach for her, before realising what his hand was doing and pulling it back to himself.

Neytiri passed out the morning meal to the family as they sat around the central cookfire and cleared her throat. “My children, you will learn from the Olo’eyktan’s children today. They shall show you the reef. Learn well, we are guests here.” She gave a pointed look to her sons. “I do not want to hear of any trouble.”

Neteyam grinned and nudged Lo’ak’s shoulder.

Once they had eaten the meal, they set about packing up the foodstuffs, then gave their parents a kiss each and walked down the beach where several fishermen had gathered their boats. The children did not miss the sullen look Lonnie followed them with as they exited.

In the pod, Neytiri nodded to Jake, then crouched down in front of Lonnie. Jake hesitated for a moment, then lowered himself too.

“Lonnie, do you remember what happened last night?” Jake’s gentle words did nothing to ease Lonnie’s apprehension.

“No. Am I supposed to?”

Jake sighed, “No, I don’t think you are. You weren’t sleeping. At least not the whole time. Lo’ak woke me and…” His voice hitched him his throat.

Neytiri gently stoked her hand over his forearm. “You were awake Lonnie, and you were not in control of this body.” She gestured down to the girl. “Lo’ak woke us when he saw you.”

“W- what?” Lonnie’s eyes blew wide. She could feel her heartrate speeding up and breathing become shallower.

Jake’s face was grave. “It’s true. You went back to sleep when I left the pod. The voices took control again.”

“No, no they didn’t. I was asleep the whole time.” The pod suddenly felt much hotter and smaller.

“They did, Lonnie. You mustn’t let them control you. You have to keep them at bay. Please Lonnie.” Jake’s eyes tilted downwards. He was trying to keep his composure.

“No they didn’t! I was in- I kept them-“ She scrunched her eyes shut and pulled at the bindings. “They couldn’t have!”

It was only when her back hit the wall behind her she noticed her limbs trembling.

Jake recognised it, a panic attack.

“Hey hey. Slow breathing. Deep breaths, in and out.” He pulled her hand to his chest, allowing her to feel it rise and fill with air. “In and out. Clear your mind. Focus on the now. That’s better.”

Lonnie looked up to him with watery eyes. Her voice trembled, “I wanted to do it. I didn’t remember until that night, but they showed me, Jake. In the machine, they showed me my hatred of you, my resentment, how you left. For an instant, the voices made me realise that I wanted to do it, I wanted to hurt you.”

Jake felt his heart crumble at her confession, wet cheeks and snotty nose and all.

She sobbed again, “You left me. You left your daughter and went to a different world without a second thought. You left me for thirteen years.”

Neytiri’s hard face leered back at her. “Why did you not speak of this? You put my family in danger!”

They were both taken aback when Lonnie shouted, “Do you think I wanted this?! Do you think I asked for this?! To be put in a new body and be sent to another planet?! I didn’t choose this! I didn’t want this!” She took a forceful breath. “I only remember the hatred they showed me, and only after I attacked you. They took all my other memories. But you were so nice to me when I arrived here, I felt wanted. I don’t want to hate you now, not like I did then.”

Jake and Neytiri looked between themselves. Never in their years of parenting had they thought something like this would happen.

Jake almost sobbed himself when Lonnie’s small voice spoke next, “I understand if you don’t want me around. I can leave your family.”

He reached out a hand to her. He didn’t want to see any more tears grace her face. He retracted it when she pulled away. “No, Lonnie. Thank you for being truthful. I am many things, but a good father to you was not one of them. I stand by what I said, I will work to be who I should’ve been to you, if you will allow me.”

He tried to give her a forced smile.

“You need help. We will get those voices out of your head. I want you as my daughter, Lonnie. I missed you for so long, I- we want you in our lives. We will fix what they did to you, as much as we can.” Jake glanced back to Neytiri, who gave him a slow nod.

The pattering of feet brought the three sets of eyes to the entrance.

Jake recognised the figures that came into view, Tsireya and Aonung, the chief’s children.

He saw their faces light up in surprise at the scene before them; a child with bound hands and a wet face, an impassive woman and a crying father.

“Um, apologies, we did not mean to intrude.” Tsireya spoke with wide eyes.

Jake hastily wiped his face with the back of his hands. “No, no, it’s alright. What can we do for you?”

Tsireya spoke again, schooling her apprehension, “We came to collect your children.”

“They are down on the beach. Could you please tell your father I will meet him in a moment?”

Aonung nodded and turned to leave. He paced out of sight, away from the pod’s entrance, and rested against a supporting tree root. Tsireya joined him a moment later. The siblings looked at each other, almost certain they had walked in on something they shouldn’t have.

Chapter Text

Tsireya and Aonung walked in silence for several minutes after leaving the Sully’s pod, concerned about what they had witnessed. A girl, who was seemingly part of their family, had her hands bound and was obviously distraught. The great Toruk Makto and his mate conversed with her, and from where the siblings stood were the cause of the girl’s sobbing.

Jake Sully himself hadn’t looked much better, yet his mate had remained impassive. To the brother and sister pair, no matter where you came from, binding a small child was not a good sign.

When the newcomers had arrived, the siblings stood by their father as their mother examined the family. They had observed her tug their tails, display their alien hands, yet she stopped when she reached the girl.

Aonung and Tsireya had both been taken aback by the girl’s eyes. Though she didn’t look at them, the siblings could tell the amount of pain they held, how much they had endured. Their mother had seen right through them, like portals to the soul, and concluded that the girl’s mind was twisted and not readable. She had not elaborated any more.

Whatever the girl was, she was further from a normal Na’vi than even the Sully family.

To Tsireya, she was a curiosity that owed to be learnt about, and possibly befriended. Tsireya wasn’t one to shy away from acceptance, especially for those who worked for it. And now that she and her brother were tasked with teaching the Sully children the ways of the reef, she decided that she would use it as an opportunity to learn more of them.

To Aonung, they were freaks, outsiders. Their people told stories of the demons that came from the sky, destroyed the forest and took whatever they wanted; how they didn’t listen to the cries of Eywa. The Sky People wielded false bodies of the Na’vi, empty shells with no true connection to the planet around them. In his eyes, these Sky Demons were the most despicable. Though he had been told of the greatness of Toruk Makto and the victory of the clans, to Aonung, Jake Sully and his family were not part of The People.

Yet, upon seeing the bound girl, they masked their horrified expressions with ones of practiced cordiality.

Tonowari had taught his children about leading the village from as early as they could speak, of how to provide for their people, mediate disagreements and come to resolutions, and plan for the future. But he had also told them that some information should not be brought before the clan.

They silently walked down the village’s pathways, down a route to the solid ground of the island. They passed several villagers and greeted them as they walked. A child ran up to Tsireya to show her a bracelet they had made with Tsireya’s help the day before. The teenager had congratulated them and tied it around their wrist. The child squealed with glee, and Tsireya couldn’t help but allow her forced smile to become slightly more real.

The pair jumped onto the warm, fine sand of the beach that surrounded the small forest in the island’s centre. They wordlessly climbed over rocks, fallen trunks and slick moss till they reached their destination, a small grove. It was still within view of the main village, but permitted them enough privacy to talk.

The Sully children could wait a bit longer for their lesson.

“What was that?” Aonung broke the silence first.

“I do not know brother. We must tell father of this.”

Aonung pressed his hand to Tsireya’s chest when she made to move. “No, we shouldn’t.”

Tsireya gave him a questioning look and slowly pushed the hand off her chest. “They had their child bound at the wrists. What reason could there be for tying up a young girl in her own pod? You heard mother, that girl is not like the others in their family. We must tell him.”

“No, we do not know what was happening. You saw as well as I that she was distressed, but did you see any signs of physical abuse?”

Tsireya hesitated, then glared back at him, “Abuse does not have to be physical, brother.”

He raised his hands up in surrender, “I know, but if she is not in immediate danger, we must get more information. We cannot go to father only with what we saw. Jakesully is Toruk Makto, he is looked up to, even here. Even with his Sky Demon past.”

Tsireya didn’t let up her glare.

“Look, I do not like it, but we have to teach their children. We ask them about their sister, then we go to father as soon as we have more information.” He placed a hand on his sister’s shoulder.

Tsireya looked to the ground. Her brother watched her jaw muscles clench and release. Finally, she looked up, “Ok, but only for a couple days. If she is being hurt we must tell him, even if we don’t learn anything from their children.”

Aonung nodded to her, then led the way out of the forest, back onto the sand and into the village.

He still had to tell his father that Jake Sully would meet him soon.

Aonung had roped his friend Rotxo into helping with the Sully children’s first venture into the waters of Awa’atlu. The other teenager had complained initially, but eventually relented against Aonung’s persistent ribbing.

The two boys were already swimming off the edge of the village when Tsireya brought the others to the water. They watched Tsireya dive gracefully in, followed by the less graceful whoops and shouts of the Sully boys. The two girls followed quickly after.

Tsireya joined her brother and his friend under the water. They propelled themselves deeper to stand on the seabed, using a rocky outcrop to keep themselves submerged against their natural buoyancy.

Rotxo looked back to where the others flailed around. They kicked their legs in circles, swimming nowhere and wasting energy and air, precious resources underwater. He laughed at their bewildered faces as sea life swum around them, watching as they tried to reach out and touch fish that would quickly swim away.

The teenager tapped Aonung on the shoulder and signed to him. Look at them, they look like drowning Ilu.

Aonung snorted out bubbles as he laughed too. They will not last long here, he signed back. Look at the way they swim. It’ll take them a day to reach the bottom!

Tsireya’s annoyed face appeared at the edge of their view. Stop, they will learn. They have not experienced the ocean before. Don’t be mean.

The boys rolled their eyes, but signed no more, instead grinning at the flopping of the Sullys.

They soon saw Neteyam and Lo’ak break the surface, followed closely by Tuktirey. Aonung gestured towards the waves, and the Metkayina trio swam up.

As soon as their heads met air, they were greeted by the deep panting of the others. Even when sculling at the surface, their legs moved far too frantically for them to stay afloat for long.

Tsireya looked over to the little girl barely keeping her head above water. She swum to her and used one arm to lift Tuk higher, earning her a thanks.

“You are not good divers. Maybe good at swinging through trees…” Aonung snickered to Rotxo. He let out a yelp when Tsireya whacked his head and hissed at him.

“You’re too fast, wait for us.” Tuktirey was panting less now that Tsireya held her head in the air, but was still clearly short of breath. Her brothers didn’t look much better.

“I think it would be best for us to practice breathing first. Then you can stay underwater long enough to learn to swim.” Tsireya gestured for the group to make their way to a nearby spit of sand.

Rotxo glanced around them. “Hey, where’s Kiri. Wasn’t she just with you?”

They all looked around them with a series of calls for the missing sister. They hadn’t seen her resurface with them.

“Maybe she’s on the beach? I’ll look for her.” Rotxo ducked under the water and dived down to the reef.

Lo’ak and Neteyam exchanged a worried glance before reluctantly following Tsireya and Tuk to the beach. Aonung couldn’t help but feel a little for their anxiety for their missing sibling.

They soon found their footing and climbed up the beach. It was a narrow section of land that extended from the walkway they had jumped off, covered in small rocks and fine white sand. Gathered on the end of it were two fishermen, sitting and repairing their nets. They looked over to the group of children and gave them a curious glance. The newcomers were of interest to almost the entire village.

Tsireya sat on the sand and gestured for Tuk to do the same. Aonung sat beside her, hesitantly followed by Neteyam, then Lo’ak.

“You must breathe in deep to hold your breath. Use all of your lungs to hold the air. It will slow your heartrate.” Tsireya lifted and lowered her hand when she demonstrated her breathing. “Breathe in, and breathe out. Breathe in, and out.”

Aonung snickered when Lo’ak starting hacking on his own saliva, earning another admonishing look from Tsireya.

Neteyam had closed his eyes and was following Tsireya’s instructions, but his face was starting to turn purple from lack of air. He let out a gasp and panted heavily.

“It will take time to slow your breathing. Start with gentle breaths. Calm your mind and focus your heart. You will use less air. Then we will move to filling your lungs.” Tsireya smiled and giggled behind her hand at their attempts. She had also taught some of the very young children to hold their breath, achieving similar results. Only these siblings were much older.

It had just taken practice for the young ones to be able to dive to the bottom of the reef.

“Imagine flickering a flame. Breathe from here.” She leant across and placed her hand on Lo’ak’s stomach. “Fill your body with air, then let it out slowly.” She could feel the rapid beating of the boy’s heart against her palm. Her face scrunched in confusion. “Lo’ak, your heartrate is fast. Try to focus.”

Lo’ak couldn’t help the little flutter he felt in his stomach. He clenched his jaw against the urge to say something stupid, instead trying to focus on Tsireya’s words. “Ok.”

From the other side of the group, Lo’ak could see Neteyam trying to hide a smile, whilst Aonung snickered with Tuk.

He wanted to slap his siblings so badly, but instead chose to point to where Kiri and Rotxo walked towards them along the sand. He only felt slightly disappointed when Tsireya pulled her hand away and looked up too.

“Kiri!” Tuk exclaimed, shooting to her feet and going to wrap her arms around her sister.

“Sorry little sister. I was exploring the reef.” She looked up to the other teenagers, “What did I miss?”

“We were practicing breathing. You will need to learn to stay under the water in order to live here.” Tsireya waited for the other girl to sit too.

Tsireya did not find it in her nature to be anything but wholly truthful. It was something that was drummed into her and Aonung from the time they were little and squabbling as any siblings would. The first time she could remember lying was when Aonung had travelled beyond the reef without permission, imploring her to not tell their parents. Upon learning of the deceit, Ronal had spent most of the evening meal lecturing her on the importance of the truth.

Yet, from her conversation with Aonung earlier that day, she knew she would have to feign ignorance in order to learn more of the new family. It was not something she would do without purpose, yet she was still reluctant.

Pulling on her mask of ignorance, she asked the older Sully siblings, “Will your other sister be joining us for these lessons? What is her name?”

She scanned her eyes across the group, landing on Lo’ak.

The boy raised a hand to the back of his neck and scratched, “Lonnie, and she’s not technically- Ow!”

He dropped his hand to rub against his side where Neteyam had elbowed him. Neteyam shot him a warning glare that Tsireya was forced to pretend to ignore.

Rotxo gave a confused look to Tsireya and Aonung. He had known Aonung long enough to know he had a special ability to persuade people to do things, and he knew that Tsireya was not one to pry. He was not sure he liked what they were up to. He held no malice to the new family, and from his experiences that day, he liked being around them, despite his teasing. They were amusing.

Neteyam was much more measured with his words when he finished glaring at his brother, “She has not been feeling well for a while now. Our mother is helping her with her mind. She should join us tomorrow.”

He sent another look to Lo’ak. Lo’ak rolled his eyes, Neteyam was ever the son to follow their parents’ instructions to the letter. “She is our father’s daughter. But not our mother’s.”

All the Metkayina children looked confused at this. Tsireya asked, “Does your clan not mate for life?”

Neteyam shook his head gravely, “No, we do. Our father was once of the Sky People, their ways are different. It is a complicated situation.”

Tsireya nodded. It wasn’t all the information they wanted, but it would do. Tomorrow they would be able to learn more. “Okay, we will start teaching her then. It is often easier for the younger children to learn to dive. She should learn quickly.”

She had not expected the surprised looks she got from all four of the Sully siblings.

Tuk piped up next, “Actually, Grandma says she’s older than Neteyam…”

She shrunk back at the sharp look Neteyam gave her, huddling closer into Kiri’s side. Kiri slapped Neteyam lightly on the shoulder. The brother hissed back at her, the pair having a stare-off for several moments before turning back to Tsireya and Aonung as if nothing had happened.

Whatever she had asked was obviously something they had been told to keep to themselves. Tsireya was quickly learning these Forest People were strange folk.

Tsireya and Aonung walked back to their family’s Marui pod that evening for the day’s last meal. They had spoken as they walked, both thoroughly confused. The situation they witnessed that morning was obviously more complicated than either of them had anticipated. This would be something they would have to tell their mother and father, but only when they had more information.

Passing through their pod’s covering, they spotted their mother tending to the cookfire. Several parcels of skewered meat in leaf wraps smoked above the licking flames, Ronal flipping them several times.

On the low bench that rested against the pod’s wall, Tonowari whittled away at a branch, forming a sharp spear. “Hello children. How was your first day of teaching?”

The siblings exchanged a glance. They knew their parents would want to hear of the day’s activities, but they had not discussed exactly what they would share.

“It went well, father. But I do not think they will adapt to live in the sea. They do not have the spirit for it.” Aonung sat beside his father whilst Tsireya sat with Ronal.

Tonowari smiled. His son may seem harsh, but he was loyal once you earnt his respect. “Ah, but they have such good teachers! They will learn.”

“They are rather strange.” Tsireya said. After her veiled questioning of the Sully siblings, she was now more intrigued than before by the foreign people, even if they thoroughly confused her.

Chapter Text

As a mother, Neytiri had witnessed every one of her children’s milestones, from their first breaths, to their first steps, to completing Iknimaya. She had watched and guided them on their journeys to becoming the people they were today.

She’d been there for them when they’d cried over a scraped knee, argued for a stolen toy, laughed with their siblings, and wept with them when the Sky People returned.

She remembered the day Neteyam was born, drawn into the world by an insatiable desire to make his parents proud. She had looked to Jake after the long hours of her labour had ended, a small swaddled baby in her arms. They had lent their foreheads together and gazed down at their creation.

The bond of Tsaheylu had helped Jake draw away some of her pain, pushing thoughts of strength to her as their son was born. Afterwards, the calming rush through their connection exchanged all their love between them.

They had a child.

Such a small and innocent thing.

But with lungs that could tear the skin from a Thanator.

That first night with their new-born, Neytiri had run to her mother with the screaming baby in her arms, panicking and asking what to do. Mo’at had laughed earnestly and brought them both back to their hut, where she showed her how to put the child to sleep.

They still had the basket that Neteyam had slept in. It was cramped with two babies when Kiri and Lo’ak were born, but both children would only sleep when in it together. They had not expected to need it again so soon, yet Neytiri couldn’t bring herself to give it to another expectant couple.

That began what Jake and Neytiri had affectionately called the “Time of Dark Eyes”, where it was more common than not for them to have bags under their eyes. It wasn’t helped when Kiri or Lo’ak were born, yet they brought their own light to the world.

Then, after six years without another child, Neytiri had announced that she was expecting, and Tuk arrived not long after.

Now with four, Neytiri and Jake had decided they should probably stop there. That was before she knew of Jake’s other daughter, and despite her initial acceptance of the girl, and albeit reluctant understanding of Jake’s decision, she knew she was not as drawn to the child as her others, not after she had attacked the family.

But Neytiri would try. Lonnie was a child, one who did not ask for her current situation, who did not ask for much at all, but seemed to flower under the acceptance she had initially found with the family. Jake had been so eager and happy to have Lonnie back in his life; he wanted so desperately to reconnect with her.

Yet, after her attack on him, she was quiet, barely speaking at all.

Neytiri had spent the previous day with her, trying to teach her more of the Na’vi language. She definitely agreed with her children that the girl had an affinity with learning the new tongue, but she seemed to hold herself back. Neytiri asked her mate that evening, after Lonnie successfully had a brief conversation with her, but Jake had just said to give her time, that she would need to process what had happened to her.

As much as Jake loved his mate, he did not understand her hypocrisy when it came to Lonnie, and Spider for that matter. She spoke of how children were gifts from Eywa, that they must be treasured, and cared for as one’s own when their birth parents could not.

Yet she had despised Spider’s growing close to her own children since the boy first met them. Jake had repeatedly suggested they take him as theirs, but Neytiri had staunchly refused. While he understood, the boy being too much of a memory of all the Sky People had done, he did not believe that she was being fair to the young child who had not partaken, or even existed, when those atrocities had occurred.

When Lonnie came to them, Neytiri had said it was a chance for him to try again at being a better father to her, yet she acted almost outwardly hostile to her after her attack.

Despite having a reputation with his mate as being a Skxawng, he did not lead the Omatikaya for almost sixteen years by being clueless; he was not unaware of the danger that Lonnie presented to him. He knew his judgement may be clouded by the fact that she was his daughter.

But he still believed she was capable of overcoming what the Sky People had done to her. He was able to distinguish between the girl he knew her to be and what the RDA had implanted in her mind, whilst his mate could not.

So he had advocated for her to able to train in the ways of Metkayina, alongside the other children.

Lonnie walked down towards the beach, Jake in close tow. Neytiri had reluctantly left to work with the Tsahìk that morning, sending a final warning look to Lonnie, who was still eating her meal from the side of the pod.

The reminder of the day’s upcoming events had put her off her appetite.

The other children had left to join Tsireya and Aonung for their lessons shortly after waking. Jake had privately told Neteyam and Lo’ak to keep an eye on Lonnie, and to tell him of anything strange she may do throughout the day. They needed to work out if there were any particular events that may trigger her attacks.

Jake managed to delay joining Tonowari and his warriors for his own training till after the midday meal, using the time to teach Lonnie more Na’vi words and phrases. He didn’t miss the quiet instruction Neytiri gave Neteyam to keep his blade close throughout the day, and it hurt that his mate didn’t believe in his abilities to ensure his own safety.

So they’d spent the morning practicing.

Lonnie was now able to introduce herself, answer some basic questions and respond to greetings and the like. Simple conversations too. It wouldn’t be enough to fully converse with the Metkayina children, but he hoped that she would be able to follow their actions, if not their words.

He had also taught her several means of calming her mind, the same ones he used before a battle, to hopefully help her keep the voices at bay.

Jake knew Neytiri would prefer that Lonnie didn’t leave either of their sights, but they had both agreed that she needed to appear as the rest of their children; part of the family. Especially after Tsireya and Aonung had seen her.

Neytiri came to him with doubts about what they were doing. As much as she didn’t see eye-to-eye with the Metkayina Tsahìk, she did not like that they were lying about their situation to their hosts. Jake didn’t disagree, if anything he hated it just as much.

Through the Great Battle, Tonowari had wholeheartedly earnt his respect. They had fought side by side to rid the planet of the Sky People and their pestilence and had been like brothers.

It was tradition for clan leaders to extend invitations to their allied tribes’ leaders to attend the naming ceremonies of their children. Tonowari attended Neteyam’s, whilst Ronal stayed to lead the Metkayina. Jake and Neytiri had received an invitation too when Tsireya was born, but with one young child and two new-borns, they had respectfully declined.

The clans were close, or as much as you could be when almost a two day’s straight trip apart.

Now that Lonnie had had more practice, she noticed her own ears flicking to conversations around her, unconsciously trying to understand what people were saying as they walked by. Part of it was a genuine want to learn the language and communicate better, the other part self-consciously listening for any mention of her or the Sullys.

She still had yet to become fully accustomed to the long tail that moved of its own accord behind her as they walked across the suspended paths. It would sway side to side, almost instinctively aiding in her balance. Yet try as she might, she couldn’t seem to move it in the same way her mind could control her other limbs.

At night she noticed it curl around her body, the fluffed tip tickling underneath her nose. It had made her even more self-conscious when she woke and the others were already moving around.

The clothing she had been given hung from her body in a way that made her feel naked. She had timidly asked Jake if there were any items that would cover more, but he laughed.

She had curled more into herself before he explained he wasn’t laughing at her, more reminded of his own identical feelings the first time he wore Na’vi clothing.

“When I first met the Omatikaya clan, they gave me a loincloth that felt like a very strange pair of underwear. I spent the first couple days trying to pick it out of my backside!” Lonnie let herself give a small laugh. She supposed a sense of modesty was a very human thing without a Na’vi equivalent.

During that morning’s teachings, she hadn’t known what to feel for the man who sat with her. He laughed with her, and taught her; he was her father, yet she had no recollection of him from before, just a vague feeling of hatred that she staunchly pushed down. She had to control the voices, and they would only get worse if she held on to them.

He wanted to build a rapport with his long-lost daughter, and she knew he was trying. Despite what the voices made her do, despite her admitted past hatred of him, despite Neytiri and her distrust of her, he still tried.

And that conflicted Lonnie to no end.

Here was a man acting like he was the one who committed the terrible act, when she was the would-be assassin. She had tried to kill him, why would he want her around him?

Nevertheless, she was eternally thankful for not being sent to live on her own in the unknown wilderness.

They had taken several wrong turns on their way to the beach; the village’s layout was still foreign to even Jake, but they eventually made it to the bay.

From the shore, Jake looked out over the gently lapping waves of the reef to where he could make out the splashing of his other children and their instructors. He wondered what they were learning that day and what new discoveries they had made about the reef. Even for him, a man from a completely different planet, the reefs were a world unto themselves.

He only had a brief glance the previous day when riding the Tsurak with Tonowari. The beast had torpedoed through the water, sending water up his nose and forcing his eyes shut. It was only after his third attempt that he didn’t fall off immediately and was able to look upon the reef. The vibrant blues and oranges contrasted strongly with the deep greens and browns he had grown to love in the forest.

Jake glanced down to Lonnie beside him. The tip of her tail flicked nervously at what she was about to do, who she was going to learn from. At least the Sullys felt familiar.

Jake pulled his eyes away from the figures in the water, crouching down beside the girl. He reached up and grasped her shoulders gently to turn her towards him. Her gaze lingered on the water before she faced him, Jake able to hear the rapid humming of her heart fighting against its cage.

“Hey, you can do this. Remember what I taught you.” He placed a palm firmly against her pounding chest, “Slow breaths, calm your mind. Keep the voices in control.”

Lonnie’s breathing nor heartrate slowed. She flicked her eyes between Jake and the sea, taking in his furrowed brows and concerned face.

“You are my daughter. You’re strong. You can break their control. We will not let them use you to harm anyone. Do you understand?” Jake gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze to bring her back to him.

She nodded quickly with tightly bound lips. She hoped it would hide the shake of the rest of her body.

“You can adapt, work hard. The others will help you, and you can speak Na’vi.” Her eyes scrunched shut and forehead creased. Jake soothed his hand up and down her arm, “Hey hey, you can do it. You understand me?”

Lonnie nodded, letting out a quiet, “Yes, I do.”

“Good. Then go, Ma ‘ite.”

Chapter Text

The grains of sand were warm between her toes, burying themselves deeper below the surface as she dragged her feet forwards. The beach warmed her soles against the coldness of the apprehension flooding her chest.

The ocean spread before her with its towering waves and crashing foam, broken up only by small islands and outcrops. Its vastness and unending nature almost stopped Lonnie in her tracks, not wanting to dive into the dark and quiet depths.

The sound of the water rising and receding from the shoreline brought about the quiet chattering of the voices at the back of her mind. They started at the base of her skull and crept forwards, reaching their claws out to gain control of her mind and body.

She gritted her teeth against them and pushed her feet deeper into the sand, enjoying the gentle scratching of the particles against her skin and the feeling of the sun on her face, the warmth helping her focus.

She willed the voices back and clamped them into place in a little box at the back of her mind, one she had to keep shut for the safety of herself and those around her.

Lonnie turned and gave a nervous smile to Jake. He stood at the edge of the village, where the walkways met the beach. Members of the Metkayina clan walked around him, glancing at Toruk Makto as they went about their tasks and routines. He gave her an encouraging smile back and motioned for her to continue.

She took a deep breath and started walking towards the other children in the water.

Jake looked out at her, sending a small prayer to Eywa to keep them all safe. He knew what it was like to send his children out to do something potentially dangerous, after all, three of them had completed Iknimaya. When he saw her reach the water’s edge, he turned and left to meet Tonowari. He would have to apologise for being later than expected.

When her toes met the water, it wasn’t the frigid temperature she had expected. Sure, it wasn’t warm, but it didn’t pull all the heat from her body like an icicle shoved into her veins.

Lonnie dug her feet deeper into the sand till the water washed up around her ankles. The warmth of the sun channelled down her body and out into the water. It wasn’t a feeling she was able to describe, but it was a good one. The gentle sensation helped push the voices back.

She sat and let it move around and over her legs, cooling the lower part of her body. She swished her arms through the shallows and watched the light refract through the small waves onto the sand below. Truly, she had no memory of something this beautiful; the pure white of the sun dispersing into a rainbow of colours beneath her hands.

The sight was cut too short when someone called her name from further out.

The girl looked up from the water to where a teal-skinned Metkayina girl walked towards her, followed by Neteyam and Tuk, who paddled her way in to keep up with her brother.

She recognised the girl from the other day, Tsireya, if she remembered correctly. Tsireya gestured back to where Lo’ak and Kiri floated with Aonung and Rotxo, “Will you join us?”

Neteyam gave a small encouraging smile to her from his place beside Tsireya and nodded.

Tsireya noted the unsure look Lonnie gave to the deeper water, but Tuk had moved to the girl and gently tugged her hand to follow them.

Lonnie almost sobbed from her place in the shallows. It was the first time Tuk had touched her since she had attacked Jake. The young girl had been so enthusiastic to have Lonnie around before that night, but understandably pulled back after.

She knew she shouldn’t get used to it, it was probably just Tuk putting on an act for Tsireya.

Slowly, Lonnie rose to her feet and followed the girl into the water. She was dragged past Tsireya, and even then she couldn’t help notice how much smaller she was. Lonnie knew the look the Metkayina girl gave her was one normally reserved for encouraging young children.

She copied Tuk’s kicks when the ground dropped too deep for her to stand, moving her arms in a flurry to swim to the others.

Tuk giggled at her floundering, “No, silly, like this.”

Tuk motioned with her arms through the strokes Tsireya had taught her, pushing them forward through the water then pulling back to propel herself. Lonnie copied the motion after several tries, finding herself to not lose her breath as quickly, though she could still feel her mouth fill with salty water as her head bobbed up and down.

“We will practice diving down today.” Tsireya swam up to the now gathered group. Her tail propelled her upwards while she gestured how to breathe, “You must learn to hold your breath in the deep. The water is fierce down there, it will try to push the air from your lungs. Hold it, and kick strong.”

“Follow us.” Aonung filled his chest and turned to the bottom. Rotxo copied and followed him down. Their tails snaked through the water whilst their arms pulled them deeper. They reached the bottom and stood on the sand, kicking up a cloud.

The siblings gazed down at their distant forms.

“All the way down there?” Tuk pouted at Tsireya.

The other girl laughed, “Yes, Tuk, you can do it. Just remember what we practiced yesterday.” She placed her hand on Tuk’s chest. “Deep breath in, and out. In, and hold.” Tuk puffed up her cheeks and held it. “Now dive.”

The young girl turned and kicked vigorously down. Aonung and Rotxo watched her uncertain arms move out of sync with her legs. They signed to each other, then looked back to where she had reached.

Tuk made it less than halfway down before turning and swimming back to the surface, breaking it and panting heavily.

“Very good Tuk. A great first attempt.” She beamed at Tsireya’s praise and smiled triumphantly to her siblings. “Now, who will try next?”

One by one, Kiri, then Neteyam and Lo’ak attempted to reach the bottom. Only Kiri got close, almost managing to touch the sand before the air left her lungs and she hurried back to the top. In the time it took all of them to try, Aonung and Rotxo only surfaced for air once.

Watching them, even Lonnie knew they had a long way to go. It wasn’t until Lo’ak surfaced to Neteyam’s ribbing that she realised it was her turn next.

Tsireya watched her curiously, speaking to her next, “Now, you try, Lonnie. Fill your lungs and slow your heartrate, then dive as deep as you can.” On seeing Lonnie’s nervous expression, Tsireya added, “It is alright if you do not get it. The others have had a day to practice their breathing.”

It was only when Neteyam started speaking to Lonnie in a tongue she did not know did she realise Lonnie didn’t understand her. She watched the interaction curiously, why was it that a Na’vi girl didn’t understand words in their language? Did the Omatikaya have a different dialect they spoke?

When they finished, Lonnie turned to Tsireya. The Metkayina teen had to hold back her initial reaction at the girl’s almost strange Na’vi.

“Okay, I will try.” Lonnie sucked in air and dived beneath the surface.

Tsireya ducked her head and watched the other girl swim down to Aonung and Rotxo. She took the chance to ask the other siblings, “It is interesting, this other language you speak. What is it?”

She chanced another glance down, finding Lonnie deeper than she expected.

“English. It’s what our father speaks, from the Sky Peoples’ planet. We learnt it as children from him and the scientists in our village.” Neteyam was still getting his breath back. He pressed a hand to the burning of his ear from the pressure of the water and coughed against the taste of salt in his throat.

“She sounds like she speaks it well, better than Na’vi.” Tsireya hoped she wasn’t coming across as rude with her questioning. She was genuinely curious now. The side effect of it being what she and Aonung had agreed to do.

“Lonnie was born before our father could speak Na’vi without accidentally insulting someone. So she learnt English from him first and Na’vi from our mother later. She and our dad mostly speak English to each other.”

Tsireya looked down to the seafloor below, and, to her surprise, and that of Rotxo and Aonung, saw Lonnie sitting on the sand.

Tuk looked down too, then threw her arms up and splashed Lo’ak, “Go Lonnie!”

Kiri and Neteyam stared at each other in surprise as they watched Lonnie paddle to keep herself against the seabed, letting out the occasional bubble that rose to the surface. They could too just see the astounded faces of the Metkayina children below, signing rapidly to each other.

Lonnie knew she had reached the bottom when she came level with Aonung and Rotxo. From the surface and on her descent, she didn’t dare look down, only keeping her eyes forward. The sand seemed so distant from above that she didn’t want to think about losing her breath and suffocating, instead forcing her mind onto one track. Pull, kick, pull, kick.

When her hand hit the almost velvety surface of the seabed, she swung her legs forward and crossed them, paddling to keep herself planted. She saw Aonung and Rotxo staring at her and moving their hands rapidly to communicate. Lonnie tilted her head, not understanding what they wished to convey.

Rotxo moved forward and touched her shoulder. Her gestured to his throat then pointed to the surface. Lonnie nodded and watched the boys push off from the ground and float upwards.

It was only then that she looked around.

From such a great depth, she wouldn’t have expected to see much, but down on the seabed, a multitude of colours exploded into view. The blue of the water dappled her surroundings in a pale light, rays of golden sunshine coming through to meet her down in the depths.

Creatures of all kinds swam through arches and coves of rock and coral, arcing across the sea and leaving trails of luminescent bubbles in their wake. Seagrass waved in the current, brushing against her legs, tiny fish hiding amongst the moving forest as larger predators swum past.

But the thing she noticed most was the silence.

Down there, there was no noise. No sound of people working, no chatting of siblings or reprimands from elders. No concerns or fears.

Down there, there were no voices, nothing running through her mind. She felt the firm pressure of the deep trying to squeeze the air from her body, but she resisted, grounding herself on it.

It calmed her, allowing her to bask in the tranquillity of the ocean.

For the first time since she woke in the Omatikaya village, she truly felt in full control of herself, no forces vying for her body or commanding her to kill.

Just for another moment, she allowed herself to sway in the movement of the current, before looking up to the faces of her companions. They watched her from the surface, far, far above. She smiled up at them and kicked off the sand back up.

Her ears popped as she broke the surface to the astonished faces of everyone. She gave them a small smile, “Good?”

“Lonnie, that was so cool!” Tuk flung her arms over Lonnie, pushing the girl under the surface, coughing water up when she came back up. Tuk muttered a quiet apology.

“I have never seen someone do that for a first attempt. That was very impressive.” Neteyam translated Tsireya’s words quickly for Lonnie.

“Thank you. It is calming.” She stumbled over her words, but Tsireya smiled back nonetheless.

“How did you do that?! That was awesome, bro!” Lo’ak pumped his fist into the air.

Lonnie pondered it for a moment. Truthfully, she didn’t do anything, she just followed what Tsireya told her, to slow her heartrate and dive. She shrugged her shoulders, “I slowed my heartbeat. I didn’t do anything else.”

Kiri gave her a curious look. She was the one used to having unusual abilities, and had experienced them for many years longer than Lonnie, so she knew what it was like to be able to do something she couldn’t explain. Yet she found it rather strange how easily Lonnie was able to control her body in the water.

Tsireya and Aonung shared a glance too. Her breath-holding ability was something they would have to add to their list of things to tell their father, but they still agreed they needed more before going to him.

Rotxo began swimming to the shore when he noticed other villagers heading back to their pods. He could just make out the faint swirling of smoke above the village from various cookfires. “Come, we should go home, it is getting late.”

Neteyam hummed in agreement, the thought of food bringing him back to the shore. The others followed close behind, climbing the beach and jumping back onto the walkways.

The Sullys said goodbye to Tsireya, Aonung and Rotxo, then turned back in the direction of the Marui pod. Kiri lifted Tuk against her side when she saw the young girl flaking from lack of energy. Tuk hummed softly and rested her head against her sister’s shoulder.

That was until she smelt her mother’s cooking wafting out the entrance of their pod.

And just like that she jumped away from Kiri and dashed towards the fire.

Neytiri laughed at her daughter’s antics. “My child, the food will not disappear if you don’t have it now.”

Tuk took a reluctant seat beside the fire, Kiri and Lo’ak sitting either side of her. Neteyam sat with his father to help prepare the remaining items, Lonnie resting against the pod’s wall, within his line of sight.

“So, how was your day?” Jake looked up from where his knife sliced through a strange tubular vegetable.

Tuk piped up immediately, “Lonnie’s really good at diving! She made it all the way down to the bottom and stayed there for ages. Only Kiri got close.”

Neteyam elbowed Lo’ak lightly, smiling at his brother. Lo’ak rolled his eyes and stared back into the fire. He had only made it as deep as Tuk.

Jake looked over them to Lonnie. He gave her a slight smile. He knew she could do it. He hadn’t expected her to take to the water so quickly, not given her reaction to it earlier. Eywa knows it was taking him some time to adjust to their new environment.

She met his eyes and smiled back. The corners of her mouth didn’t quite reach up her face, Jake noticed, but it was a start. She would learn to not blame herself for what happened to her in time.

Chapter Text

Jake sat at the entrance of the Marui pod with his back up against the wall. In his lap lay a torn Tsurak saddle, one he’d broken earlier that day from a rather poorly executed dive into the water.

His hand had slipped from its leather binding on a practice jump with Tonowari, and in his panic he had grabbed at the saddle. But the force of his scrambling body against the onrush of water ripped the weaving cleanly down the middle and left him with a handful of half a saddle.

Tonowari laughed at the other man, but spoke of the good opportunity it would be for Jake to learn the Metkayina’s ways of weaving.

In the early days of living on Pandora, Jake had not enjoyed weaving. He was a military man, constant movement was basically a necessity to keep his mind from disintegrating, and weaving was not the right thing to sate that need.

Yet over the years, as his children grew, and weren’t at the point of being able to weave for themselves, he had learnt that the necessary stillness and detail-orientation that it brought was good for him. It was like stripping a weapon, just repetition, over and over again until the patterns became embedded in his mind.

He would never be as good as those Omatikaya who did it daily for years, but it was passable.

This saddle was testing his skills though.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get the stitching to hold the flaxen fibres together and couldn’t keep the pattern repeating without it somehow coming apart. His material spread across the floor in front of him, looking rather dejected in its semi-ripped state, but he knew when to accept defeat. This was a job to go crawling to his wife for help with.

Just as he was about to stand to visit Neytiri in the healer’s pod, the laptop he had set against his rifle’s boxes began to ring and vibrate. Norm’s name appeared on the screen with an icon for an incoming video call.

Jake pushed the work onto the floor, glad to have an excuse for leaving it for the time being.

Tonowari hadn’t been keen on having Sky People technology in the village, but he had acquiesced on the condition it was just Jake’s communication device, laptop and rifle. And even then, he asked Jake to not carry them around the village unless absolutely necessary.

Jake tapped the accept button, seeing Norm’s face flash onto the screen. After a second or so delay, the high-power communicator kicked in and sent a live feed of High Camp’s lab through to the screen.

He expected to see Norm smile, or at least look happy to see him after almost a month without contact, yet the view he saw had Norm sitting with his head in his hands and Max leaning against a bench further back.

Jake frowned at his friend’s expression, “Not the greeting I expected.”

Norm let out a hmph, then slowly met Jake’s gaze. “Good to see you too. You want the good or bad news first?”

Jake frowned again. He never knew Norm to be one to cut to the chase. “Let’s go with good first.”

“Tarsem is a great leader. You certainly didn’t mess up there. We haven’t done anything major, but we have had a couple successful hits on outlying RDA storage sites.”

“Good, good, and the bad news?”

The other man hesitated, glancing back to Max. Even through the feed Jake could see the bags under his eyes. The successful raids must not have been without sleepless nights.

“Max and I did some searching through the old archives from Hell’s Gate. The ones we took before destroying the place.” He sighed again, pressing a hand up to the bridge of his nose.

Jake sat up straighter and shuffled closer to the screen. “And? What did you find?”

Norm took another look at Max. The other scientist nodded back gravely. Whatever it was, it wasn’t comforting that his closest human confidents were worried. Jake could feel his heartrate slowly increase.

“Jake, what do you know about Tsaheylu?”

The man paused for a moment. He wasn’t the most spiritual, not on the same level as a Tsahìk, but he couldn’t deny the connection every Na’vi and creature had with the planet and Eywa. The line of questioning furrowed his eyebrows, “It’s how we connect with Eywa. The ancestors speak through it.”

Norm nodded, “Yes, but do you know how it physically works? Take Eywa out of the equation.”

Jake was brought to Pandora in place of his brother. He was a convenient factor to not waste a multi-million-dollar Avatar created for his scientist sibling; he was never one himself. In the early days of working with Grace and Norm, he never paid much attention to their research about the connection between the trees in the forest, or how creatures interacted with it.

Their jargon had flown completely over his head, and now he was wondering if not reading those books Grace had given him had been the best idea.

Jake shook his head, then rolled his eyes when Norm perked up at the idea of a biology lecture.

“The queue Na’vi have is wired directly into their brains, it’s literally a core part of their nervous system.” Jake groaned internally when Norm pulled out a small whiteboard. “When they connect with creatures through Tsaheylu, they’re literally binding their brains together, exchanging electro-chemical messages. It’s like two biological processors working together and communicating.”

Norm placed down his board on completing his diagram.

“Ok, but how is this relevant?” Jake asked.

Norm let out a tired sigh, the exhaustion Jake saw earlier returning rapidly. “When a connection is initiated, both parties have a reflex that sends out a chemical signal to the other that the bond is mutually agreed to. Which is where what we found comes in.”

Jake could feel his tail still and ears point as far forwards as they could. He silently told them to continue.

“We found something the RDA was working on when they first setup Hell’s Gate, before even Grace arrived there. It was primitive at the time, nothing more than a concept really. Actually, even the blueprints we found were basic at-“

“Norm! Focus.”

Norm flinched at Jake’s shout. He pressed his hands down the front of his jacket, “They were designs for a machine that could initiate a one-sided Tsaheylu. It could forcibly connect to the subject’s mind and read them like an open book. They would be powerless to stop it. It’s a mind reading device, Jake, and we think that’s how the Recombinants souls were saved.”

Jake felt the numbness start at the nape of his neck and spread downwards. It chilled his arms and shoulders, encasing his heart and lungs. In that moment, he felt it hard to breathe.

“Based on Lonnie’s timeline, and Quaritch being alive, we think it was operational by the time we kicked the RDA off the planet. We probably avoided an invasion by these Recoms.”

Norm took a second for Jake to process it, the other man staring pale-faced through the screen.

“Which brings me to the worst part.” Jake didn’t think there could be one, but Norm continued, “Lonnie was taken from her body by this device, brainwashed, and put into her new one. To the RDA, her old body was waste, not needed anymore…”

Jake inhaled sharply. He could see Norm still talking through the video feed, but no sound met his ears, except the pounding of his heart against his ribs. The frosted feeling moved through his veins, spreading to his heart, lungs, brain and throughout his limbs. They became encased in the hard and unforgiving material, chilling him to his very core.

They had destroyed her body.

Nothing to return to Eywa, no remnant of her life prior. The Great Mother wouldn’t know the person who came before, all that she was in her early years. She would only meet the new girl, that who the RDA had created and forced upon an innocent child.

And Eywa would know that pain. She would see it in the girl whose mind was controlled by others, not complying with her own commands. She would feel her struggle to keep them at bay, to not let them cause her to harm those who took her in.

Jake had felt it too, when he had passed through the Great Mother’s arms and entered his Avatar permanently, leaving his human body behind. At least then he was able to send it off to return its energy back to the earth, with Neytiri by his side and his clan at his back.

The small stone that marked its resting place wasn’t somewhere he liked to visit, it too much of a reminder of his past and what he left behind, but he still had spent many a day watching the tiny insects that crawled over it, thanking him for his contribution to the planet.

It took him a while to realise that Norm had ended the call.

Jake muttered small greetings to each family member as they filed in for the evening meal. He and Neytiri sat around the small prep area, silently working to cut, cook and serve the food. He wasn’t the biggest fan of fish, much preferring the meat the Omatikaya often caught for their meals, but it wasn’t bad by any means, especially with the amazing seasoning Neytiri had learnt from one of the healers.

Following her duties for the day, Neytiri had entered the pod to find her mate sitting with his back against a wall and a blank, distant look on his face. She followed his gaze, and met the screen of the laptop, where the end call screen appeared with Norm’s name.

She wordlessly sat by his side, tails intertwined and her head on his shoulder. She felt his breathing even out slowly, taking full ones loudly herself to allow him to match her. Whatever he had learnt from Norm, it had put her mate in this stupor. And it was her job to pull him out.

They sat there for a while. The light started to fade and the world slowly turned a bright shade of orange and yellow. She watched fishermen and hunters bring their catches along the walkway outside their pod to the smoking racks further towards the shore. She would need to get some for that evening.

Slowly, Neytiri felt Jake’s muscles start to move more. His neck twitched, his leg stretched forward and his toes flexed against the growing cramp.

Neytiri looked up at him, smiling gently. At this time of day, her mate looked even more handsome as the light cast shadows across his chiselled face. She loved remembering the time she first laid eyes on him, both as an Avatar and human.

“What is wrong, Ma Jake?” She tilted her head in question, bringing a hand up to gently guide his eyes towards hers.

He didn’t answer immediately, meeting her gaze then pausing. Finally, he said, “Why don’t you like Lonnie?”

Neytiri paused for a moment. It was a question she had expected at some point, though those words weren’t the way she expected it to be asked exactly.

“I do like Lonnie. She has shown herself to be a capable girl who learns fast. She has learnt our ways, and the Metkayina’s, quickly.” She gave him a sideways smirk, “She has learnt a lot faster than her father did.”

Her attempt at humour wasn’t reciprocated, instead being met with a deadpan stare.

She sighed and turned to face him bodily. She spoke more seriously, “I do like her, but I do not like how much of the Sky People's mark she brings with her.”

“Like Spider?”

She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. She knew this would likely always be a point of contention between her and Jake, and while she acknowledged that Spider had never truly met his father, the lingering thoughts of the destruction the invaders brought still remained.

“The sins of the father shouldn’t be laid on his children.” Neytiri still didn’t understand the human sayings when translated into Na’vi, Jake amalgamating English into the sentence. “Just like Spider, Lonnie shouldn’t be paying for the mistakes I made. That isn’t fair on her.”

Jake rose and walked to the laptop perched on the nearby boxes. Neytiri watched him go to slowly close the lid of the device, then pause, staring at the screen. Suddenly, he forced it shut, letting out a small shout.

His mate startled at the noise, rising to meet him. She gently grasped his arm and pulled him around. Her face softened when she saw the glimmering pools at the base of his eyes, shiny streaks tracking gradually down his cheeks.

Her arms met his shoulders and she pulled him in. His hands gently laid themselves on her hips, steady against the gentle movement of the pod.

He let out a choked sob, “They destroyed her body, Neytiri. They killed her.”

Like a dam bursting, his innermost thoughts began to run through his lips, “My daughter, they killed her and there’s nothing to return to Eywa.”

Neytiri held his shoulders tighter as they shook through the onslaught. She pressed her temple against his, feeling him nuzzle into her neck and take a grounding breath of her scent.

Slowly, they pulled back to look at each other, arms still locked in a tight embrace.

Jake sniffled, “She’s trying, Neytiri. And she’ll keep trying to earn our forgiveness,” Eywa knows she already had his. “It wasn’t her fault.”

Neytiri’s children meant the world to her, through their misadventures and disobedience, but never had they tried to kill someone. Such a crime normally was paid for with expulsion from the clan.

At the sight of her mate’s teary eyes and wet face, she matched his gaze, seeing nothing but stone-hard resolve for his daughter; a will to work for the young girl.

She rested her forehead against Jake’s, taking a deep breath. The salty tang of the sea air filtered through her nose, clearing her thoughts.

She spoke softly, almost like a hum that reverberated through Jake’s ears, “Ok, you have worked for your part. You have been a better father to her. Now, I must be a better mother.”

Jake almost melted at the sight of her approving smile.

Chapter Text

Despite her heated exchange with Ronal on their arrival at Awa’atlu, Neytiri had grown to respect the other woman.

Having trained under her own mother for the future role of Tsahìk, Neytiri was put to work in the village’s healing pod, tending to minor scrapes and wounds that were part of living along rocky outcrops and by deep waters.

She didn’t mind the work, it being almost identical to the teachings her mother gave her, yet still with enough new knowledge that she didn’t feel herself getting bored quickly.

The Metkayina had some truly awe-inspiring methods of healing minor injuries, and Neytiri shared some of her own; some unfortunate enough to have been learnt from digging bullets and shrapnel out of many Omatikaya warriors’ bodies.

She couldn’t call it bonding, merely a tolerance that initially arose after their arrival in the reef village, but Ronal knew when respect was due for a fellow healer and mother too.

They had spent many an afternoon preparing poultices and tinctures in silence, until Neytiri saved the life of a hunter who had had a run in with a stray RDA depth charge. He had multiple deep lacerations from where he was pushed through the water onto a nearby reef, and experienced a severe concussion from the blast, knocking him unconscious. Most of his lungs had been swamped with water, and it was only the chance passing of another patrolling warrior that brought the hunter back to the village.

After several hours of work, the man was stabilised and moved to a recovery pod where he’d be able to slowly wake. His mate had thanked Neytiri gratefully for saving his life, and Neytiri had responded in kind.

Ronal had asked to see the specific concoction that allowed his brain-bleed to begin healing and cleared the water from his lungs, watching Neytiri closely as the Omatikaya woman stepped her through the process.

After that, they worked together with a mutual understanding. Not friendship, but enough.

Ronal soon invited Neytiri to bring along her daughters to learn in the healing pod. Tuktirey had been excused to play with some younger Metkayina children on the rockpools of the village’s sea wall, so Kiri and Lonnie accompanied Neytiri for the day’s work.

Lonnie knew nothing of healing, literally nothing. She had no memory of any injuries she may have sustained through her childhood on Earth and how they may have healed, so she had no knowledge of what different medical items were.

The girl may have been adept at learning languages, and she did pick up the names of different flasks and what they contained, but she was definitely not a healer.

Ronal had questioned the girl’s lack of knowledge, assuming she would’ve been taught, or at least picked up some surface understanding.

Neytiri asked if every member of the Metkayina tribe was expected to exceed in every task they were given, stating that Lonnie had been training under Jake as a scout for their clan’s hunts. It was a small deception that worked in principal; Lonnie’s small size would’ve made her suited for scouting large game from the treetops without frightening it away.

Ronal accepted the explanation, albeit with a raised eyebrow. She had enough experience with people telling half-truths from her daily work as Tsahìk.

“How are you finding your time here?” Ronal directed the question to Lonnie and Kiri, who were wrapping parcels of a gelatinous substance in large fronds picked from a nearby plant.

Kiri looked to the other girl, giving a small nod of encouragement.

“It is nice. I like the water. Thank you for letting us be here.” Lonnie could tell the woman had far more practice in hiding her reactions than her daughter, though they were both just being polite.

Neytiri couldn’t deny the slight sense of pride that came through when she said, “Tuk has told us all about Lonnie’s skills in the water. She says Lonnie can hold her breath for as long as your children in the deep.”

Neytiri hadn’t taken to the water as much as the rest of her family. She spent her time on the land or in the sky, flying through the clouds and down distant cliffs on her Ikran, cresting the tops of waves and letting the mist cool her skin against the heat of the hot seasons.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t been offered to be taught to hold her breath, or ride a Tsurak or Ilu, Ronal herself had suggested it. But the Omatikaya woman couldn’t bring herself to leave her own traditions behind her. She knew the intention of their stay was for it to be temporary, yet she pulled back when she saw how much her family had adapted.

It felt as though she was giving up on ever returning to the forest.

But the sight of her children’s happiness still brought about her own, so she would tolerate the new environment.

Neytiri looked up from her work to gaze fondly at Kiri. “My children are learning well. They say they have good teachers.”

Ronal gave a stoic nod. Neytiri would swear she had never seen the other woman outwardly express love for her children.

“The reef is truly beautiful. Tsireya showed us to the rockpools yesterday, where the sea filters in.” Kiri held up her wrist, on it dangling a newly crafted bracelet, “Tuk was very pleased to look for shells along the wall.”

Ronal gave an acknowledgement of Kiri and Lonnie’s work. She continued to carefully grind small seed pods into a fine powder. “My children say that you will learn to ride Ilu soon. Tell your brothers to not show off. They will only get themselves hurt.”

Kiri snorted loudly, ignoring her mother’s admonishing look. “Tsireya will have to stay away from Lo’ak then, lest he do something stupid.”

Ronal tilted her head at the new information. She would have to speak with her daughter later.

The conversation lulled for a while, the occupants of the healing pod working to the sound of the village around them.

As Lonnie went for a knife to copy Kiri in cutting a long reed, Neytiri reached over, hastily taking it from her.

The girl rapidly pulled her hand back. Neytiri watched Lonnie curl into herself and pull away from her grasp. The sight forced the woman to remember the agreement she made with her mate, to be a better mother to the traumatised child.

Slowly, Neytiri rose and moved to Lonnie’s side, in front of the long reed.

“Here,” Neytiri placed the knife in her hand, laying her own on top and guiding them both down to the plant. “You must crush it first, then cut.” She motioned for Kiri to do the same.

Lonnie could feel her heartrate increase at the contact with the older woman. The last time they had been this close was when Neytiri was binding her hands. She gradually forced her arm to loosen and follow the movements Neytiri guided her through, pressing the side of the blade against the reed, flattening it before cutting it into thin strips.

Neytiri smiled down at the girl.

To Lonnie, it felt like a flower was blooming in her chest, its petals pushing back the encroaching anxiety and doubts. She felt the gentle touch of their hands together, so different from the rough ropes that had held her to the Ikran. The quiet speech passed into her mind, feeling like small waves of acceptance upon her heart. She had wished for this feeling since she woke in this body.

They all looked up when Tuk’s delighted giggles streamed through the entrance. The young child pulled a smiling Tsireya with her, the older girl laughing at her antics.

“Mum, Mum! Tsireya said we could learn to ride Ilu today! She told Aonung to find some so we could ride them through the reef. Can Kiri and Lonnie come?” Neytiri watched Tuk practically vibrate on the spot with excitement.

Ronal nodded her acceptance.

The apprehension at leaving her children with Lonnie still remained, stewing at the back of her mind and worrying her thoughts. But she couldn’t let them know that. “Of course they can, Ma Tuk. But weren’t you playing with the other young children?” Neytiri moved to give her youngest a hug, noticing Lonnie drop and shy away from the blade from the corner of her eye.

Tuk immediately looked at the ground. She spoke in a small voice, “They went to do something else.” She looked back up at Tsireya, “But then Tsireya came and now we’re going to ride Ilus!”

The mother felt her heart clench at the abrupt change in her daughter’s mood, but she smiled at Tsireya for so easily bringing the youngest’s excitement back up. She stood, speaking down to Tuk, “Then go, my child, you do not want to keep them waiting.”

Tuk squealed, running forward and grabbing Kiri and Lonnie, both being yanked away from their work, out the pod and into the sunlight.

Neytiri sent a fond look to Ronal as the children were pulled to the water. Ronal’s normal hard-set blankness had morphed into something that could be considered a smile. If you stretched your imagination.

Kiri laughed with Tsireya as they made their way down to the shoreline, where Aonung stood in the shallows.

Swimming in wide lazy circles around him were two large Ilu, far bigger than the ones they’d seen the Metkayina normally riding. Lo’ak lay lounged back on the warm sand, hands behind his head while he used Neteyam’s standing form for shade. The older brother watched Aonung carefully corral the creatures till they gently lapped at the beach with the waves.

When the new group joined the brothers on the sand, Tsireya paced to the front and addressed them, “These Ilu are the oldest, and the calmest. We use them to train the young ones on first. But do not underestimate them. If you say to go fast, they will go fast.”

Lonnie watched Lo’ak give a cheek-splitting grin to Kiri, who rolled her eyes and placed a hand on Lonnie’s shoulder to move away from her brother. Neteyam too had to gently hold Tuk down to stop her from jumping on the poor animals.

Tsireya hid her smile behind her hand, “Ok, who will go first.”

Lo’ak’s and Tuk’s hands shot up at the speed of an Ikran with its tail on fire.

Kiri sighed and walked to her sister, crouching to her level. “I think it would be best if you rode with me?”

Tuk pouted, almost calling out that she wanted to ride by herself, but Tsireya gently concurred with Kiri. The young girl wasn’t experienced in bonding with animals, having yet to complete Iknimaya, and only riding a Pa’li with her parents.

Lo’ak waded to Aonung, who handed him the reigns. His grin wasn’t one of encouragement as Lo’ak gripped the bound leather harness. “Try to stay on forest boy.”

Lo’ak narrowed his eyes forward, “Let’s do this.”

Aonung’s smirk was the last thing he saw before he made Tsaheylu with the Ilu and immediately shot through the water. The liquid went up his nose and pulled his lips from his teeth, sending more down his throat. As his legs kicked wildly behind him, his grip loosened, and he was pulled back by the water, the bond breaking.

Lo’ak scowled and broke the surface. The Ilu swum up to him, giving a mocking chatter then splashing the boy and swimming back to Aonung.

He paddled back to the group, where Kiri and Tuk sat one behind the other on the second Ilu. He watched Tsireya carefully push them off to patter around the shallows at a calm pace, Tuk giggling the whole time.

Kiri never was one for speed, preferring a much slower, more controlled rate. She liked taking long flights on her Ikran, not participating in her brothers’ races through the mountains or treetops.

Neteyam jabbed Lo’ak’s side with his elbow, sending the younger brother a knowing smirk as he watched Tsireya. It did nothing to improve his mood. His brother was always aware of what he was thinking; nothing felt like it was his own. So he kept scowling until his sisters returned to the shore.

Lonnie watched the siblings intently, how they threw little jabs and jibes at each other, careful to not insult the others too much. She could see how much they cared for each other, Neteyam especially with how he doted on his sisters. And despite how Lo’ak wished to push a façade of independence, he too cared deeply.

It was moments like this she felt both honoured to be allowed to witness their bond, and also like she was looking through glass at something she could never have.

It wasn’t until Tsireya brought an Ilu up to her that she noticed everyone else watching her, silently waiting for her to try. She pulled her arms across herself to shield from their gazes, and to keep her own anxiety inside.

Neteyam placed a hand on her shoulder, gesturing for her to bring her Tswin around and connect with the Ilu. The creature held one of its own neural whips out of the water, waiting expectantly for her.

Lonnie gingerly brought her queue over her shoulder, running her fingers over the dark braided hair down to the tip. She tried not to gag at the squelching sound the tendrils made as it melded with the Ilu.

Like a rush through her mind, the thoughts of the creature spilt into her consciousness. She felt its feelings and sensations all throughout its body as if they were her own, the rising and falling of its breath through enormous lungs, multiple sets of eyes blinking with a whole new colour spectrum, powerful muscles for controlling its movement through the depths. All of it came pounding into the base of her skull.

And she could feel her body giving up its own sensations and feelings through the connection. It was all pulled from herself, all happenings of her mind available to the Ilu.

Its thoughts were calm, somehow feeling wise despite exchanging no words, only feelings. Feelings of growing tension.

As it was all brought forth, the box at the back of her mind broke open.

The voices expanded to fill all the vulnerable space. They shot through the bond, capturing both minds and chanting for control.

Lonnie felt her muscles harden to stone. The Ilu shrieked and dove away further into the water, violently severing the connection.

Everyone stared, stunned.

The creature gave a painful bleat and nuzzled its face against Aonung’s leg. He absently stroked its head, watching the girl’s form shiver in the shallows. Sweat dripped down her brow, glistening on her otherwise dry forehead.

Just as Tsireya placed a hand on her shoulder and moved into her view, Lo’ak shouted, “Tsireya, no!”

The Metkayina girl’s attention was pulled to him. Behind her, she felt Lonnie abruptly flinch.

Lonnie’s muscles spasmed. She tore her shoulder from Tsireya’s grip, rapidly pulling the knife from Neteyam’s belt and spinning the blade in her hand.

Tsireya’s eyes widened as she felt the thin, razor-sharp edge push itself against the surface of her neck. She stilled.

Lonnie’s eyes were narrow and dull, her body as taught as a bowstring.

Time stood still as the girls were frozen to the spot.

Tsireya didn’t dare breathe. She saw Aonung go to pull her back, but Neteyam held him by the arm.

Slowly, Tsireya watched the muscles in Lonnie’s arms twitch. The tendons in her neck loosened, her pupils widening, colour and clarity returning to them.

Tsireya saw recognition manifest in Lonnie’s mind. The girl’s shallow breathing became shallower and panicked. Her eyes flicked to the knife against Tsireya’s neck, a faint red line left against the skin.

The voices were pushed back into the box by the force of her recognition. They ran amok and pulled order with them as she sent them down, feeling them grasp at any rational thought she may have formed. Lonnie’s mind screamed to run, to drop the knife and sprint.

So she did.

Chapter Text

Tsireya had never seen a battlefield, never known the plight of fighting for her loved ones with tooth and nail, never wondered if it would be the last time she saw them alive, or if they would be sent to Eywa before the Mother called them.

In her nearly fourteen years on Eywa’eveng, she had never feared death. Her people sung of how everyone would join with the Great Mother, leaving the corporeal world behind. Her journeys and connections with the Spirit Tree showed her ancestors, in all their might and glory, who had fought to rid the planet of the Sky People, saving her from their pain and suffering; to give her a better world.

Her father told her and Aonung of the Great Battle. He recounted tearing through giant metal suits, humans running and screaming as the warriors charged with raised spears and burning hatred to protect Vitraya Ramunong.

Tonowari showed them the scar on his bicep, where a bullet pierced his flesh and exited the other side. His arm had been mangled and unusable, but he still managed to take out three metal humans. Their mother had hissed at his stupidity, but dotted on him as the memories of her injured mate resurfaced.

It wasn’t until the unnatural flying beasts started raining hellfire that he was forced to retreat, until the Great Mother saw that the Na’vi would prevail, allowing the Omatikaya to claim the human base and send them away.

Though she pictured them in her mind’s eye, she hadn’t been witness to the aftermath. Scores of Na’vi had been laid with Eywa in the subsequent days. She hadn’t seen the huts with families crying by the entrance of, not knowing if their loved ones would ever wake from their almost death-cold slumber.

Many did not.

Yet, when the knife was against her neck, she knew that fear.

It gripped her and poured pure, liquid terror down her throat. Her mind screamed to move, to get away from the danger the other girl held to her. But her body wouldn’t respond, the disconnect freezing her solid, only her eyes moving, tearing up as she felt the cool, fine slice of the blade against skin.

Then Lonnie had dropped the knife and run.

Tsireya yelped when Aonung rushed to her and pulled her into a tight hug. He squeezed her to the point she almost popped under the pressure, yet she let her tears stream down his chest when he slowly patted her hair and whispered gently into her ear.

She could see Lo’ak start forward through the cocoon of her brother’s arms, hearing a violent hiss above her when the boy got too close.

Slowly, Tsireya felt her brother slide an arm beneath her knees and raise her off the ground. She tucked her head under his chin and let the water flow. It left wet, tacky trails down his chest as the sea parted around his feet and was replaced by sand.

She felt the springy, familiar give of the walkways as Aonung paced through their home, sending a glare or hiss to anyone unfortunate enough to get too close. They left a trail of eyes, a sobbing and terrified girl carried by her frantic brother, moving towards their pod.

It took her a moment to see that another pair of feet had joined them.

Another sob broke through her into the open at the mention of her father. Aonung nodded to his friend severely, Rotxo sprinting off to find the Olo’eyktan and Tsahìk.

They strode through the pod’s entrance. The remnants of their earlier meal sat by the smouldering fire, small whisps of flame and smoke rising above the ground. Its calming crackle and familiar smell filled Tsireya’s senses, the smell of home and safety.

Gently, Aonung set her down against the soft padding of her sleeping mat. She stared at the far wall, rays of sunlight filtering through the weave and dappling the ground in a fine shadow. Absently, she felt her brother pull his mat over to hers. He knelt and fussed over a jar of a brown, sticky dough.

It stung as he wiped the blood from her neck, feeling her muscles tense and groan, and she yelped when his fingers pressed the dough against the cut. His digits trembled, from a lack of training or adrenaline she wasn’t sure. He pulled her hand up and told her to hold till it set.

The comfort of the mats pulled their heartrates down, Aonung gently guiding his sister’s head to his chest, careful to avoid the wound. His fingers found their way through her braids, stroking slowly down her scalp. It was what their mother did when they woke from a bad dream in their early childhood, the moments too fleeting at the time.

Tsireya sniffled against his smooth skin. He chided her, “That’s disgusting,” But made no motion to stop her.

Fingers met a knot in her hair. They slowly worked it free, twisting and untangling the strands, continuing their slow path of comfort.

When heavy footsteps entered the pod, Aonung propped her up against his arm, watching her face struggle to stick itself back together.

“My children, what happened?” Tonowari ran into the room. His eyes darted throughout the space in search of danger, anything that might harm then. His hand fidgeted on his spear and feet stepped into a fighting stance.

He puffed heavily as the extent of his age finally caught up with him. He used to be able to make that distance without breaking a sweat.

Seeing his children laying against the wall, he skidded on his knees and pulled Tsireya up in front of him. She collapsed into his shoulder and sobbed with wet gasps and trembling limbs.

The father clasped her arms and moved her away from him. He swept his gaze over her body, searching through small scars inflicted by the reef. Then he saw the hastily patched line on her neck.

“Ma Tsireya, what happened?”

The downturn of the corners of his eyes brought about another set of sobs.

Aonung started forward, mouth open to answer, when the glare he received almost pushed him back. “What did you do?”

He almost broke under the weight of his father’s voice.

Tsireya sniffled, “Not his fault, he brought me back.”

Their mother turned through the entrance and gasped at the sight. She slowly paced forward and began to lower herself. She winced and placed a hand against the swell of her belly, feeling her child kick as if sensing her worry.

Aonung jumped to his feet and took his mother’s weight on his shoulder.

“Who did this?” The simmering fury in the woman’s voice was not something many who heard it lived to tell the tale.

She pressed a trained hand against the covered wound, moulding the dough further into it. Ronal hummed a satisfied acknowledgement to her son.

“It was Lonnie, Jake Sully’s daughter. We were riding Ilus, and she connected to one, then attacked Tsireya.” Twitching arms and a palpating heart slowed his recount, “She pulled Neteyam’s knife and cut her.”

Both parents hissed and seethed behind fiery eyes. They had both seen the daughter of Toruk Makto in passing, watching her quietly from the side-lines as they had done with the entire family. Newcomers may be accepted, but they still had to earn their place, just like anyone else.

“That girl is not right. No proper child would attack another without reason.” Tonowari spoke of the aggressive wrestling he broke apart earlier that day between two disagreeing youths.

He’d watched Lonnie’s hesitance to join her siblings in their lessons, yet his children mentioned her abilities in the water.

The clan leaders had spoken of Neytiri’s deflection of Ronal’s questions about the girl and Jake’s avoidance of his duties in the mornings, spending time in his pod with Lonnie.

The siblings exchanged a glance. To Ronal, they may have been speaking out loud.

The Tsahìk hissed again, “What have you to tell?”

They both knew they wouldn’t get away with a non-answer.

Tsireya hastily wiped her eyes and pressed her palms together in her lap, “We saw Lonnie, Jakesully and his mate in their pod soon after they arrived. We were going to bring their children to the reef, but we heard shouting.”

Aonung picked up next, “She was crying. We didn’t hear much of it, but she had her hands bound with rope and was tied to the wall.” Aonung cowed under his parents’ iron watches, “She didn’t look hurt, but she was very upset.”

Tonowari gripped the base of spear, lifting it to stand. He aided his mate to her feet and turned back to the two children. His spoke calmly, yet the simmering anger bit at his throat, “And you did not tell us immediately of this?!”

Aonung gestured with open palms, “Father, you taught us to gather information before making conclusions.”

Tsireya glanced to her brother, adding “He is Toruk Makto, he is respected. We wanted to learn more.”

“You had the right intentions,” Ronal hissed, “But you did not do it the right way.”

Tonowari inhaled deeply. He closed his eyes and let the air clear his mind again, “What else did you discover?”

Tsireya pressed her hand against her neck again, remembering the odd conversation she had with Neteyam about Lonnie’s parentage. “She is Jakesully’s daughter, but not his mate’s.” Tonowari sent her a confused look, feet already moving to the door, so she added, “We do not know more than that, but we don’t think they were meant to tell anyone.”

“Hmm, I will speak with Toruk Makto and the girl.” His deep voice rumbled through the entrance of the pod as long strides took him through the village.

Kiri followed the call of Eywa’s heartbeat through the beaches and over rocks, across the Metkayina’s islands. She heard the pulsing get louder the more she walked, at one point reaching a small sandbank between islands and half-swimming-half-walking across.

The occasional footprint lay bare in the windblown sand as particles swept across the surface, but they were spaced far apart. She was never great at tracking, the thought of hunting and killing animals made her stomach move to her throat, leaving that work to her brothers. But it was still a skill their parents insisted she learn.

The island moved from sand to low lying vegetation, to palm trees, then back to sand and rocks on the other side. The Great Mother’s pulse echoed against the girl’s own heart, guiding her forward. She glided across the small island, following the feeling.

Small, shelled creatures scuttled away as she approached, shimmying below the surface and away from the pounding of giant feet. The water rose and fell against the shore, sun shining its bright light upon the world.

Normally, she would lay upon the ground and soak in the Mother’s creation, letting her thoughts drift elsewhere. Her brothers would roll their eyes at her daydreaming, but she had a mission; this wasn’t an idle trip through the archipelago.

Stepping out of the treeline and onto the shore, she recognised the small body of blue hunched under a fallen tree. The tiny girl had her legs pulled to her chest and eyes pressed to her knees. Kiri could hear the stuttering breaths from across the beach.

She kept herself in front of Lonnie and steadily paced forward. Kiri watched ears flick involuntarily to the sound. Lonnie’s tail curled tighter around her legs as Kiri sat beside her.

She kept her distance, not wishing to encroach on the panicking form. Slowly, she inhaled and looked to the horizon, “I know what it’s like to be different; to hear things the others can’t.”

Lonnie shivered in the wind, so Kiri rose and moved to her other side to be a shield. She admitted that human clothes would have their own benefits when it came to weather protection.

Kiri spoke again, “When I used to hear them, I would shut down for days. What scared me more than hearing them was that other people couldn’t. I have never felt more alone than that.”

She gingerly lifted a hand to Lonnie’s shoulder. The girl’s breathing slowed, and she didn’t shrug it off. Kiri continued, “They would draw me into the forest, to be with the plants and animals. I remember the first time I got lost. Dad spent hours looking for me. The whole time the bush I was hiding in was right by our hut.”

She laughed softly to herself. “I thought they would never find me, and that I would be lost forever. But that feeling of coming home, to people who cared for me, I will never forget it.”

Lonnie shuffled in the sand. Her feet dug themselves below the surface. Kiri smiled when her sobs subsided into quiet sniffles.

“We care about you, Lonnie. You are not some creature to be used for harm. Eywa brought you to us because she knew we could help you.”

Lonnie lifted her head and looked at Kiri through wet, but vibrant eyes. Kiri smiled and thumbed away the tears from her cheeks.

She pulled on her signature faux-serious face, the one she always used to get a laugh out of Tuk, “The voices you hear are better than mine, in a way. I do not know what mine mean, why I’m so drawn to the planet, but we know what yours are for, and we know how to control them.”

She pulled the smaller girl to face her, staring straight at her and taking up her field of view, “We will help you. You are not alone.” Kiri smiled when Lonnie looked back, “And now I’m not the only one with strange abilities.” She laughed at the other girl’s confused look, “You have so much control over this body, when you do not hear them, you’re better than even me in the water. Do not let them define the path you take. Your feet are your own.”

Lonnie almost started bawling again, but Kiri pulled her into a tight hug, resting back on the sand.

They lay there until the sun reached its peak in the sky and the afternoon eclipse neared.

As the land began to slowly darken, the girls looked up to the horizon, where Lo’ak’s sprinting form ran across the sand to them. He closed in slowly, feet flicking up grains in his wake and legs flying out at wild angles.

When he reached them, his hands pressed onto his thighs, body bending over to pant heavily.

He gasped as sweat collected on his forehead, “Holy bro, it took me a while to find you guys. Don’t run on sand.” He gasped again, “It’s really hard. Whoo.”

“How did you find us?” Kiri stroked her hand up and down Lonnie’s side.

Lo’ak smirked, puffing out his chest, “You forget, sis, that I was one of the clan’s best trackers.”

Kiri pulled Lonnie into her side, resting her head on her shoulder. She rolled her eyes and gave Lo’ak an irritated look, “What is it then?”

Lo’ak coughed and wiped his face. “Dad’s looking for you,” He gestured to Lonnie with a flick of his arm. “He doesn’t look good, said Tonowari wants you to go hunting with him.”

Chapter Text

Lonnie kept her eyes down when her feet met the village’s walkways. She and Kiri had left the beach and began the trek back with Lo’ak in tow, the boy still complaining how his muscles ached from his run across the compliant surface.

As much as his whining annoyed them, the girls did silently agree.

By the time the Marui pods came into view, they could feel the blood pulsing through their thighs and calves and the supple skin on their feet, the abrasion having worn all the dead cells away.

Lo’ak climbed to the top of a rock pile and knelt to give his hand to Kiri. She gripped his arm and hoisted herself up and over, continuing to the village. Lo’ak turned to Lonnie and held his hand out.

The girl stared at it for several moments. The easy way he held it to her caught something in her throat. How the siblings approached her and offered their support, she questioned if she was worth it. They had spent no time considering her past actions, no time pondering if they should help the girl. They would try.

His outstretched palm stared at her, asking if she needed help; an open question.

Lo’ak cleared his throat, “Dude, I don’t have all day.”

Lonnie recognised the sibling ribbing, but it sounded different, not as easy as he would banter with Neteyam or Kiri. She realised what he was doing; he was assessing her in that moment. They may not tie her to her past actions, but her future ones would define her. That’s what Kiri had given her, a chance to show everyone that she would allow them to help her, that she wouldn’t dwell on what wasn’t in her control.

Even so, it slightly soured the taste in her mouth, but she accepted his grip and climbed up.

They jogged to catch up with Kiri, the trio receiving strange looks from clan members as they entered the public walkways. Lonnie watched the ground and huddled herself between Kiri and Lo’ak. They pressed themselves together, shielding the smaller girl with their bodies.

Lo’ak met each of the gazes, raising an eyebrow in question. He muttered quietly, “News spreads fast.”

Kiri whacked him on the back of the head.

“What?! It has.” He left his position at Lonnie’s side and walked backwards to face them. “Tsireya’s fine, just a little shaken. Aonung took her back to their pod.” He slowed to avoid tripping and falling into the water. “Tonowari left it and was looking for dad, and bro I’m telling you he did not look happy.”

Kiri hit him again.

“Ow! That’s gonna leave a mark.”

Kiri jerked an arm down and gestured to Lonnie. The smaller girl hung her head. Her ears were pressed back against her scalp, the thick black hair frizzy and needing re-braiding. Her tail wrapped tightly around her ankles.

Lo’ak could just make out her quiet sniffles.

He knelt on the walkway, his hand gently turning Lonnie’s head to match his gaze. “Hey, it wasn’t your fault. We shouldn’t have pushed you to bond with something so soon. That’s on us.”

Kiri pressed a palm to her back, “We will stand with you. Dad will too.”

Lonnie sniffed again. She gave them a quick flick of a nod and started walking again. Lo’ak shrugged to Kiri, both setting off after her. He paced in front and led them through the paths to where they spotted their father sitting with his back to them.

Jake’s legs swung above the peaking waves.

The wind had picked up that afternoon, blowing through the village and creating chop and white horses on the water. The chill and smell of saline water didn’t aid Lonnie’s shivers. She gripped her upper arms and wrapped them close to her body. The soft melody of the jangling beads on her armband conflicted with the way it tightened around her bicep as she stood silently behind him. She watched him fiddle with his knife in its sheath, readjusting the strap around his shoulder. His ears twitched to each sound around him and his back was hunched forwards.

If he was nervous, Lonnie knew she stood no chance of calming her roiling anxiety.

Kiri placed a hand on his shoulder. Jake flinched at the touch and spun his torso around, eyes wide. His hand went to the handle of his knife, but it stilled when he recognised his children.

The image of him rapidly blinking sleep from his eyes as she lunged with the blade at him returned. It wasn’t the first time, nor did she think it would be the last.

He looked to Lonnie’s still form; how her hair fell in front of her eyes, how her fingers curled and uncurled, how her tail coiled around her ankles. He recognised it before it started.

“Hey, hey, Lonnie, what happened?” His fingers ran over her armband as he stroked a hand up to her shoulder.

His crow’s feet reappeared and heart tightened when she avoided his gaze. The girl’s eyes looked sullen and dull, the left one not the normal vibrant purple.

They had all seen how the return of the Sky People had aged their parents, their father especially. It’d been over a year since they had last seen him calm and at ease, not since the bright blue stars appeared in the night sky. They had watched him retreat into his marine instincts, planning tactics with his most trusted warriors, training them for battle. It was the last thing he wanted, but should the worst occur, they needed to be ready.

Lo’ak couldn’t remember how long ago it was since Jake had taken his sons fishing down by the rapids. The water ran deep there and housed many large fish. It’s where both boys had learnt to handle a bow.

Jake pulled Lonnie into a hug and glanced up to Kiri.

Kiri looked just as worried and anxious as he did. She shook her head, “She will tell you on the way out.”

Lo’ak pointed out to the horizon. “He said to meet him out past the reef.” Two tall apostles peaked their summits just above where the sky met the water. A storm brewed in the distance, grey clouds gathering at the edge of their view.

Lo’ak jolted in surprise when he too was pulled into a hug. Kiri joined them.

Jake kissed his son’s temple, then Kiri’s. He whispered, “Thank you, my children. Go to your mother tonight. Close up the pod, it’s going to bear down.”

Lonnie shivered as the enormous beast paddled through the waves. They rose and fell with the surface of the water, timing their breathing to the oncoming swell. Chop and spray soaked her meagre clothing, the salt getting into her eyes. Even on the seabed she had been able to see, now the water forced her to squint into the dying evening light.

When she could, Lonnie told Jake of the voices’ reappearance when she bonded with the Ilu; the overwhelming noise of them, how Tsireya startled her, how she almost slit the other girl’s throat. The words had tumbled from her mouth, and once they began, they didn’t stop.

Jake listened intently between waves. His daughter had attacked the chief’s. This was something they would all answer for. His own breaths became short and stuttered, but they would’ve been swept away if he lost concentration.

Yet he was thankful it was him she was telling this to, and not Neytiri. His mate had made a promise and commitment, but it would still take time.

As they passed the edge of the reef and into deeper water, the waves grew until they were forced to dive through the tallest ones, lest they be separated from their mount. When they went beneath the surface, Jake pressed them forward against the Tsurak and gripped the handle, his other arm holding Lonnie. Every time they resurfaced, he would pull the leather binding tighter around his hand. It wouldn’t be the first time he was pulled off.

The warmth of his body dissipated some of the chill, but the wind still lifted what little heat Lonnie had from her skin and sent it away.

There was no calm under the waves, not the way she had felt before. The last time, the water was peaceful and tranquil, soothing the voices and giving her full control of herself. Now, the rapid breaths that came with their jumps above the swell did nothing to ease her mind. She could only take brief gasps before they’d be under again.

Slowly, the apostles grew larger in their view. As the duo drew closer, they spotted a faint glow on the sheltered side of the beach. The water became shallow again as they paddled to the water’s edge. There were no surrounding reefs, just plains of sand below the surface.

Tonowari’s Tsurak swum slowly up to them as they landed, chattering with Jake’s. They disembarked, Jake pulling his bow from his back and checking the arrows bound to the shaft. Lonnie kept herself partially hidden behind him as they trekked up the beach to where Tonowari sat.

The imposing man lay reclined against a large rock that stretched up into the sky where it met the main apostle. His spear sat in the sand beside him, a campfire blazing at his feet. It flickered in the wind, but remained alight in the shelter the rocks provided.

Jake brought his hand to his forehead and gestured to the other man. Lonnie watched as he maintained eye contact, then copied the motion after. Tonowari nodded and swept his arm out, indicating for them to sit.

A roll of thunder cracked overhead. Only the Metkayina chief didn’t jump at the sound. Jake could feel his nerves being put on edge, the way the man stared straight at him, never glancing away.

He folded his hands together amicably, “What did you wish to speak of brother?”

Tonowari swept away the sand at his side and dug out another spear, smaller and thinner than his own. He tossed it to Jake, only then did he look away and up to the sky. “This is not a time for talk. A storm is coming, and it is not an easy journey here. We must make shelter for the night.”

He rose with his spear and walked into the surrounding trees, leaving Jake and Lonnie on the sand by the fire. They nervously glanced to each other, not knowing whether to follow him.

“You stay here. I guess I’ll get us some food.” Jake refitted his bow around his back, patted Lonnie’s shoulder, then moved down to the water, away from where the Tsuraks had scared the fish off.

Lonnie watched him leave. She had come out there expecting to be at best imprisoned, at worst banished. Maybe something even more severe than that. She watched the fire flicker and burn its kindling. Bright embers floated up, before burning out and returning to the ground as ash, casting a dark shadow around the base.

She rubbed her hands together and warmed them against the flame. The rocks shielded the worst of the wind, yet she could still feel its wicked whip against her.

She huddled between the campfire and the rocks and watched Jake. He stood waist deep in the shallows, spear raised and body poised. She watched the pointed end streak down into the water, a large fish pulled with it as he lifted it in triumph.

It was then the rain started. Fat droplets of water peppered the sand. They steamed when they hit the fire, and it sizzled out not long after.

Jake ran back to Lonnie and pulled her to her feet as the heavens opened. They jumped through the brush in the direction Tonowari had travelled. The heavy pattering of rain on leaves accompanied their frantic search through the trees to find him.

Eventually, the wafting smell of roasting meat reached them. Jake’s ears perked up and nose brought in a deep breath. He turned them towards the source and leapt over fallen logs and small rocks, spear with impaled fish still in hand.

Lonnie trailed distantly behind, frantically moving her unsure feet to match Jake’s path. Her tail snagged on a branch and she cried out in pain. Jake whipped his head back, stalling himself, and dropped the spear. He skidded on his knees along the sodden soil to where Lonnie held her tail, a cut drawn down to the tip. It wasn’t deep, but it went a long way along the length.

She clutched the oozing bloody appendage; the rain too bringing a sob to her lips. Jake quickly pressed her hands against it to keep the cut closed, leaving red marks over them both. He brought his arm around her legs and scooped her up to his chest, reaching down to pick up their meal too.

Lonnie’s quiet tears added to their soaking state as he followed the smell further, finally spotting another faint glow. They broke through the treeline into a clearing.

Tonowari tended to a smaller fire under a woven canopy that blocked the rain. Several baskets and boxes were stacked atop the large mat he sat on. A small spit held half a roasting animal; Jake couldn’t make out what through the blackened carbon.

The man looked up in surprise at the messy streaks of red that ran from the girl’s tail. He quickly moved to the boxes. “Bring her here.”

Jake hesitantly set Lonnie down on the mat. Tonowari brought a pile of clean cloths over and a skin of water.

“You might want to bite on this.” He handed Lonnie a small carved piece of wood. “The water has a disinfectant. It will sting.”

Jake subtly motioned for Lonnie to bite down on it. The moment the contents of the skin touched her tail, her jaw clenched tightly as a violent sting shot up her spine.

Tonowari flushed the wound, then set about tightly wrapping it in the brown bandages to hold the cut closed. He tied it off, then moved back to the boxes and pulled out a small, stoppered flask. “Drink this. It will ease the pain, but you will need to be seen soon at the village.”

Lonnie pulled the cork and downed the gelatinous liquid. The knives at the end of her tail subsided into dull throbs as the drink warmed her stomach.

She and Jake huddled closer to the fire to dry themselves. Lonnie pulled her tail before her, letting the warmth sooth the pain. Jake had handed the fish to Tonowari, who skewered it alongside the other roasting animal. It wasn’t long before he pulled them both off and tore the meat into pieces, handing some to the two of them.

They set about eating in an uncomfortable silence. This deep in, the wind was sheltered to a gentle breeze, but the rain continued to fall against the trees in a heavy downpour. Lonnie glanced up to the canopy that kept them dry. The fibres were woven tightly together, rimmed around the edge with a leather trim that was tied with several ropes to nearby trees.

Lonnie looked up from her meal to where Tonowari sat. The warmth and food brought about a modicum of calmness, yet the anxiety still bubbled away in her chest when she realised he was watching her. She ducked her gaze and felt a shiver rise up her spine.

“Perhaps now is the time to talk.” Tonowari raised an eyebrow at the streak of meat juice dripping down the side of Jake’s mouth. The other man quickly wiped it away.

Lonnie parsed the words as fast as she could, but not before Tonowari continued, “My children have informed me of several events I was not aware of since your arrival. I would like you to fill me in.”

By the time she understood the sentence, the chief’s expression became irritated. He expected an answer. Lonnie almost collapsed with relief when his attention was drawn away to Jake.

“Brother, let me explain-“

Tonowari lowered his head and hissed, “I wish to hear from the girl. She is the one who attacked my daughter.”

It was now Lonnie felt the familiar heat of worry and uncertainty that played with her mind. Her breathing quickened and heart bounced heavily off her chest wall. She scrambled for the words to respond, but none came. “I- I don’t- I’m sorry.”

Tonowari stiffened his arms against a flinch, but Lonnie watched him recoil. “She speaks the language of the Sky People?”

Jake moved in a crouch closer to Lonnie and placed an arm over her shoulder. He gave her a gentle shake, “All my children speak it, but Lonnie doesn’t know Na’vi fluently.”

“What is this girl you call your own then? One who doesn’t speak Na’vi, who’s hands you bound, who attacked my daughter?” Tonowari’s voice rose above the din of the rain.

Jake could feel his own righteous anger rise to meet the words, “She is my daughter. She is mine to protect, mine to care for!” He inhaled a deep and shaky breath, “The Sky People have a machine that can read minds and souls. They saved the spirits of the soldiers we killed in the Great Battle and brought them back to life as Na’vi. They revived Quaritch.”

Even Tonowari knew the name.

“This is not some trivial game they play. They are here, and they’re here to stay.” Jake looked Tonowari in the eye, “You’re a great warrior, but you don’t know the Sky People like I do. They have resources beyond our comprehension, and weapons to boot.”

The chief’s face hardened.

Jake glanced down to the girl. “My daughter was human. She was born before I left Earth, and the RDA brainwashed her and stole her memories, they used her as a weapon to get to me. What can we possibly do against that kind of power?”

“And you knowingly brought this child with you, to my people?” The man sneered.

“She needs help. If we can just undo what they put in her head-“ Jake knew the futility in pleading.

“She is a demon created by other demons. She should not exist; the girl is a crime against the Great Mother!”

Jake rose and pushed Lonnie behind him. He glared at the other man, “You think you can decide what happens to my own children?!”

“You are not Olo’eyktan, this is not the forest. Do not overstep your place.”

Jake seethed, “I know my place as her father. We left the forest to protect ourselves from their wrath. It was safer to keep that information to ourselves.”

“That was not your decision to make. Penance must be paid.” Tonowari stood and spoke over his shoulder, then disappeared into the night.

They woke at first light the next morning. Tonowari didn’t speak a word to them as they set about tidying the camp, other than that he would need to converse with his mate. Jake hung his head at Tonowari’s scowl, accepting the circumstances for what they were.

He had made a decision, and it hadn’t been the right one. His need for control over the situation had left a girl injured and his family suffering the consequences. He wasn’t chief here, hell, he was barely anyone. It was only the name that was a decade and a half old which quelled Tonowari’s wrath, and even then it could only go so far.

Lonnie too had been silent during the ride back to the village. The Tsuraks paddled through the now calm oceans, the storm having passed overhead during the night. The water sloshed around the riders and Ilu swum to meet them. Lonnie was happy to see that the one she temporarily bonded with hadn’t told the others to avoid her.

Yet she knew the situation would change, even more than it already had for her, that the few things she thought were safe were up for questioning. Her inability to control herself had put her place in her newfound home at risk, and it had harmed the others too; not only the Sullys, but also Tsireya.

She had again hurt the people that took her in.

Yet, when the trio landed in the village, Tonowari and Jake questioned the hive of activity around one pod. The Sully pod.

From that distance the sea of blue bodies amalgamated into one. Jake hurried up onto the walkways, bringing Lonnie with him.

They pushed their way through the crowd to the entrance.

It was the sight of Max beside Norm’s crouched Avatar that brought him to a stop. The two men worked over a body lying on the floor. Tuk sat beside them, crying and stroking the body’s hand.

Neytiri walked from one end of the Marui to the other, turned and paced back. Her shoulders shook and limbs trembled, stealing quick glances to the girl on the ground.

Jake sprinted through the remaining people, past his sons, and skidded beside them. He reached down and rubbed a hand gently against Kiri’s soft hair.

Panic rushed through his voice box, “What happened?”

Norm looked up to him as he finished inserting another vial of clear liquid into a tube. “She seized underwater when she connected to the Spirit Tree.”

Chapter Text

Kiri watched her father pull the saddle over his Tsurak. He fiddled with the buckles, making sure they were tight enough so the riders wouldn’t fall off. She hoped his weaving and repair skills would hold up this time.

His hands fumbled the straps and Kiri watched his ears flick nervously around. She stared down at him waist deep in the water, with Lonnie waiting on the sand in front of her and Lo’ak to her side. The smaller girl would glance back at them, but Kiri could only give her so many reassuring smiles before her own apprehensions set in.

She had to trust in the Great Mother that all would be well, that Tonowari would understand their situation and the choices their father made.

Lo’ak pulled her closer to him to calm his own agitated hopping from one foot to the other. She almost smiled when he apologised for making her vision go blurry, vibrating shoulder stilling.

Finally, the saddle was secured and Jake gestured for Lonnie to follow him. She started forward, then stalled. She looked back to Kiri.

“You will be fine. Oel ngati kameie.” Kiri pulled the corners of her lips up to meet her eyes and gestured down from her forehead.

The girl’s legs mechanically pulled her across the sand and up to Jake.

“Ready?”

Lonnie shook her head, but swung her leg over and straddled the saddle nonetheless. She cringed at the squelching Jake’s bond made. The tendrils melding together brought about unpleasant images she’d rather not envision.

Jake wrapped his arm around her waist, and they were off.

The siblings watched the Tsurak swim through the opening in the reef’s barrier wall and out into the open waters.

The darkening shadow of Polyphemus began to overcast the already cloudy sky, leaving only traces of light behind. Kiri looked out to the horizon, at the rocks that rose just above it, and wondered again what Eywa had planned. A storm was brewing, and it would rock the world to its core.

She hoped again for the safety of her father and sort-of sister.

Did she consider Lonnie a sister? She certainly didn’t think of her as an enemy. Through her many, albeit brief, interactions with the girl through her confinement in the scientists’ shack, she knew what lay beneath the surface of the scared child.

The endless thanks Lonnie silently gave Kiri had her bursting with pride. Lonnie had sat and devoured the language cards as fast as Kiri could prepare them. It had kept them both sane; Lonnie with nothing else to do within the four grey walls, and it kept Kiri’s mind from her parent’s continuous arguing about how to protect them, and how Spider was taken.

By Eywa she missed him.

And even before that first attack, they’d laughed together as Lonnie stumbled her way through clan life. Lo’ak too had joined them, and took a great deal of pleasure in showing off. Kiri smiled when she remembered how Tuk attached herself to Lonnie’s hip, and how Neteyam pulled the sensible big brother act, then joined in with their mischief a moment later.

Eventually, the pair disappeared behind the swell, so Kiri and Lo’ak turned down the walkway back to their pod. They would need to help their mother with the evening meal, and maybe distract Tuk long enough to keep her from bouncing off the walls.

Their steps soon fell in sync, long strides so similar to the ones they took in the forest, where sure feet meant the difference between traversing the treetops and falling from them. They had spent many a day with Spider exploring the forest; sometimes venturing to the old battlefield, other times discovering new paths between Hell’s Gate, where the scientists used to live, and the village.

The siblings may as well have considered themselves twins; it wasn’t an impossibility for a Na’vi woman to bear two children at once, though it was extremely uncommon. For all their differences, they both grew and learnt together; completed milestones at the same time.

Lo’ak often wondered how much their mutual friendship with Spider had brought about a closer connection; both siblings loving the human boy in different ways.

He was saddened at how little time he had devoted to praying for his friend’s safe return.

By the time their feet brought them around the final bend to their Marui, Rotxo and Neteyam had swum up beside them on two Ilus.

The boys hooted up to the duo. “Rotxo’s going to show me the Spirit Tree. Come with us.” Neteyam called.

“Bro, have you seen the sky? Mum will skin us if we’re out in that.” Lo’ak gestured upwards. It wasn’t often he was the voice of reason.

“Aw, baby bro.” Neteyam placed his palms together and rested them against the side of his head, mimicking sleeping, “C’mon, we’ll be surfing the waves. Rotxo says the Cove of the Ancestors is sheltered anyway.”

Lo’ak groaned, but plunged into the water beside the two mounted boys. He called for an Ilu when he surfaced. The three of them looked up to Kiri.

“You’re coming too. You can’t let them drag me around on my own.” Kiri rolled her eyes at Lo’ak’s words.

“I think you will like our Spirit Tree. Nightfall is the best time to see it.” Rotxo whistled for another Ilu.

Kiri could feel the pull of Eywa at the mere mention of the Mother’s sacred site, yet she paused when a crack of thunder rolled through the heavens. She was confused as to why the Great Mother did not wish to be paid a visit, so against her better judgement, she dived into the water and mounted, settling behind the others in their little convoy.

Rotxo whooped and sped off in the lead. Neteyam and Lo’ak followed on their own Ilu, with Kiri bringing up the rear. She steadied her breathing before allowing the Ilu to guide her through the water, dipping and turning with graceful movements over the intricate arches and atolls of the reef.

She barrel-rolled over the top of Neteyam. He smiled up at her as she dashed past, then sped up to catch her. They twirled together through the ocean, never letting the others out of their sight, yet basking in the vastness of the depths.

Below, the sea floor dropped to oblivion, only the dark embrace of nothingness left behind. The distant calls of Tulkun travelled past them as the creatures navigated back to the reef. It wouldn’t be long before they returned.

Yet, something about the unending nature of the ocean drew her deeper. The light of sundown didn’t filter that far below. The mosaic lines on her skin illuminated alongside the Ilu’s as they travelled down and left a trail of bubbles rising to the surface. It was only when her lungs burned did she consider returning to her siblings and friend.

She broke the surface to large waves that Lo’ak jumped through. He breached the surface and twirled in the air, before pulling himself back to his mount and diving back under.

She swam up to Rotxo, who was shaking his head with a smile, “We will not make it to the Cove at this rate.”

Neteyam pulled up beside them and called for Lo’ak. Finally, the younger brother re-joined the convey, and they set off again.

When the floating arches of rock appeared over the summit of another island chain, Rotxo gestured for them to slow and glide along the surface. Boulders hung in the air and spun gradually, as if blown by an invisible force, for there was no wind there, just as Rotxo had said. The tropical jungle that surrounded the edge of the cove made sure of that.

The Metkayina boy brought them below the formations and into the centre of the cove, where the rock curved and bent into an overarching dome. Small critters jumped from outcrop to outcrop, climbing higher above the ground and closer to the green moss that grew near the top.

Kiri inhaled sharply at the sudden feeling of Eywa’s presence. Settled before them, deep beneath the surface and rooted into the seafloor, stood the glowing Spirit Tree. She sunned herself in the aura that travelled through the water and into the air above, basking in the Great Mother’s world.

She closed her eyes to the hum and let it bring her closer. Her Ilu happily obliged.

“This is the Spirit Tree, our most sacred place.” Rotxo dismounted and bobbed above the tree, “The vines give breath, so do not worry about being underwater for too long.”

Kiri slid off the creature’s back and patted its hide in thanks. The Ilu chirped and swum down to the base of the tree, connecting one of its Kuru near several other animals.

Her brothers sunk into the water beside her. The siblings inhaled, then dived down to where Rotxo hovered by a bundle of tendrils. The feather-like leaves fanned out in the water, almost fluffy and soft. They complied with the teenagers’ hands as they brought their queues forward and connected with the tree.

Kiri’s feet met the unforgiving firmness of the ground. It was cold and sent tingling shocks through her soles that spasmed her toes. The roughness was unlike the coarse sand she had grown so used to; she couldn’t dig deeper beneath it and rest within its hold.

The sky was dark and grim. Clouds of dust and dirt circled high above her head. They rolled and oscillated, but no rain fell upon the earth. All around her, tall rectangles rose from the ground, their peaks as high as the summits of the Hallelujah Mountains, yet the sky still soared above it. They were the same dank and dreary colour as the ground.

She glanced around. Nowhere could she see the healthy greens of the forest, nor the cool teals of the ocean. Everything had had the colour and, seemingly, the soul drained from it.

The rectangles were arranged in a wide grid pattern, with the same solid surface forming pathways between them. She looked to the small cut-outs inset in the buildings’ walls, extending all the way up their height.

No-one walked the streets she knew from Norm’s archives. This was a city, one of the hubs of human activity on the planet the Sky People came from. Nothing truly lived here, nothing thrived and nothing sought purpose.

She had to duck her head to peer through the glass and into the interiors. The sharp and unnatural corners held no secrets, yet betrayed no information. They were bare.

Kiri could feel the apprehension building in her chest as she continued her walk through the strange place.

She encountered no lifeforms, until the sounds of shouting echoed through the desolate streets behind her. She turned, and watched a human girl sprinting with all her might along the street.

The child’s arms swung and legs pumped furiously as she tore her way across the city. Just as she drew past Kiri, the Na’vi girl swore she saw glistening streaks of water flowing down her face. The girl turned down another street and disappeared from view.

Just as fast as she came, a group of taller human boys dashed around a corner and down the same path, running after the girl. They carried long metal bars and wore enraged expressions, yet their faces were no older than Spider’s. Several of them sported small cuts and grazes along their arms and necks; tiny half-crescent indents of red caught the light from the dull sun behind the clouds.

One called out, what it was Kiri couldn’t understand. They turned down the same street the girl had and ran after her.

The ground didn’t have the same spring Kiri was used to from her adventures running over dirt and branches in the forest, nor the energy-sapping give of the sand, yet she still forced herself after them. Her longer legs pounded the floor, and she was sure her feet would be aching for days to come, but she soon caught them in a narrow passage between two tall buildings.

The other girl pressed her back against a wall that blocked her path, trying to make herself as small as possible. Her hair was rank with dirt and filth, but even still Kiri could make out the shiny blonde colour beneath. Her eyes darted between the narrowing walls, to the one that blocked her path, then back to the encroaching group.

They spoke again, and still the words met Kiri’s ears in a garble of sounds.

The girl’s own trembling sounds met her ears. They were directed at the leader of the group, the one carrying the pole. His face turned to a sneer and he advanced forwards.

Kiri reached out to block the boy, but her body was not entirely corporeal. Her hand passed right through his chest in a cloud of blurry mist, then reformed.

She watched them move towards the girl.

Despite the human girl’s fear, Kiri knew that face. Or maybe it was because of the fear. The way her cheekbones contoured the skin of her face, how her freckles rose to her temples in a mosaic that Kiri recognised.

“Lonnie?” She whispered as the hounds descended.

It was only for a moment that the girl’s eyes met her own.

Upon receiving the call from Lo’ak, Max and Norm were packed and taking off in a matter of minutes. The boy’s panicked voice crackled through the speakers and reverberated around the shack. His hands fumbled the camera as he sprinted with his father’s laptop in hand.

It had taken Max shouting through the call for Lo’ak to calm enough to explain. By the time he finished, Norm had jumped into his link bed, and Max hauled medical supplies into the rickety Samson, firing up the engines. Norm’s Avatar climbed into the modified pilot’s seat and dropped the craft and its two passengers off the edge of the mountain.

They sped for the place Jake had told them the family was travelling to; they were the only ones, other than Mo’at and Tarsem, who had been told of their new location. Even then, Norm had considered it risky.

The rotors tilted as far forward as they could and the airship climbed through the clouds and up to where the winds blew from behind. They needed the additional speed.

Though, even with the boost, they would be travelling through the evening and night, yet Max jumped over the boxes in the cargo bay and began pulling together his medical pack. He stuffed in his scanner and tablet, packing a defibrillator too. He prayed he would not have to use it.

The autopilot kept their heading and altitude long enough for them to get some shut eye. Norm took the time to hurry out of his link bed back in the mountains. He poured over his handwritten book on Na’vi physiology, the contents having grown and improved drastically with the help of Mo’at.

Though he wasn’t a doctor by training, it was a necessary skill he had picked up over the years.

His eyes burned through the words, ripping them from the pages and implanting them into his head.

When he reconnected with his Avatar, he found it lumped haphazardly in the corner of the cargo bay, with Max frantically piloting the craft through heavy turbulence. The Samson jerked to the side as thunder and lightning cracked beside them. Had they been any closer it would’ve struck their flying metal box.

The man’s feet barely reached the peddles, and his hands were far too small on the cyclic. Norm pulled him aside and took control, right them before they could spiral down.

In that time, he hoped what he’d read in his notes remained, yet his friend’s life, that of his Avatar, and a child’s depended on wholly the task at hand.

Just as the morning light began to clear away the darkness of the storm, the giant mangrove roots appeared on the shoreline. The pods that hung from them were filled with Na’vi, all watching what the ship of the Sky People would do. Norm noticed many of them had weapons in hand.

He soon spotted the waving form of Neteyam, who gestured for them to land on a sandy spit near the village. Norm pulled the cyclic over and directed the ship to land before them.

The rotors hadn’t stopped spinning when the two men jumped onto the sand with packs in hand. Neteyam, accompanied by a teal-skinned girl, ran to them.

“Oel ngati kameie.” They both gestured to the girl. “Take us to the Tsahìk.”

“My mother is away with another clan. Neytiri and I have been tending to her.” The newcomers followed the girl and Neteyam quickly into the village. She spoke quickly as they moved past confused faces, “But she has not woken.”

At least their patient had been seen to before he and Max arrived. Norm boxed his relief away for later.

Chapter Text

A mix of emotions roared through Spider’s mind when the Ikran plunged from the cliff.

He tried and he tried and he tried to be what he thought Jake would want in a son, trying so hard to be part of the family he so desperately needed to fit in with. Alas, the colour of his skin, the lack of a queue and his small size kept him away.

He was never oblivious to Neytiri’s disdain for him, and upon learning of his predecessor, he couldn’t entirely blame her. It was only the presence of Kiri and Lo’ak that kept him from descending into the pit of despair and self-deprecation when the face of his father appeared on that video monitor; he was only seven or eight at the time.

Sometimes he wondered if it would’ve been better to learn of his parentage at a younger age, that way he wouldn’t entirely know the extent of his heinous actions.

But the story and actions of the Sky People had been drilled into him the moment he asked why there were no other children in the grey and cold hallways of Hell’s Gates. The science guys had done their best. They taught him to read and write, and communally raised him in a roundabout way, yet even then he knew they would never be the parents he so desperately desired.

Norm had almost been that, and he’d grown closer to the man when he finally realised that chasing acceptance from Jake and Neytiri was a fruitless endeavour. In his mind, he supposed he would call Norm and himself friends, rather than father and son. And for a while, that was enough.

Yet the return of the Sky People made him realise just how important family was, and how quickly it could be taken away.

He’d always been close to the Sully children, but through the transition to High Camp, and the moving of all the scientists and their equipment with the Omatikaya meant he lived amongst them. Not in the way he truly wished, but it would do.

It was only after Jake’s marine training clouded how he protected his sons did Spider understand that the man loved his children with every fibre of his being; that he would lay down his life to ensure their safety.

It reignited the boy’s want, no, need for that feeling.

The Ikran diving from the cliff with Quaritch grappling it brought Spider to realise that he wanted to one day call this man dad; this cruel and vile man, the one who destroyed Hometree and murdered countless Na’vi in cold blood.

Even with the different form, Spider forced himself to reconcile this tall Na’vi impersonator as that vindictive person.

But it was the small things that drew Spider to him; the way Quaritch would make just too much coffee in the morning and let Spider have the rest, the additional blanket brought to keep the boy warm through their camps at the edge of the windswept plains.

It became harder and harder to judge the man before him and the one he’d only seen through videos as one-and-the-same.

So, when the Ikran flew above the edge of the cliff with a triumphant Quaritch riding it, Spider smiled.

Spider was no stranger to heights, in fact he practically thrived in them.

It was how he got his nickname; the lab guys finding him on top of their desks and cupboards with seemingly no way for the toddler to climb up around them. He’d attached himself to the highest point he could to gain a view of the land. It calmed him in a way, knowing that he was the highest thing around. He enjoyed the sense of security.

He especially loved it when Kiri or Lo’ak would join him and they’d spend their afternoon lounging back at the top of a tree, watching the world happen around them until the light began to fade. The return of the Sky People made those expeditions much more infrequent. Jake’s justified paranoia prohibited them from venturing too far from the base of the Hallelujah Mountains.

By Eywa, the last time they had taken a trip into the depths of the forest they’d almost all been killed, and he was kidnapped.

No, heights he could deal with. It was the crashing waves below him that dropped his stomach to his toes and stuttered his breath.

He’d seen the ocean before, but only from the back of Kiri’s Ikran when they flew up to touch the stars, and even then it was on the distant horizon. The size of the waves wasn’t something he anticipated being so close to; the crests almost reaching his feet from the saddle of Quartich’s banshee.

The gathering storm on the sea-side horizon didn’t help; grey clouds flashing with bolts of lightning. He had half a mind to ask Quaritch to direct their convoy to fly over the cliffs rather than the water itself.

“Try again, Oel ngati kameie.”

The language lessons he gave the Recoms had been something to keep him sane and his mind off his current situation. He hadn’t intended for them to actually go anywhere, yet many of the reborn soldiers actually seemed to like learning Na’vi, even if some of them just enjoyed being able to swear at their officers and not have them understand.

Quaritch’s arm loosened from Spider’s waist. The man brought the hand to his head and gestured down, “Oel nhati kameie.”

“Not nhati,” Spider emphasized the sound, “Ngati.”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

Spider smirked, “Not quite. Lift the back of your tongue against the top of your mouth and use your throat and nose.”

The Recom tried it again. He sputtered up a wad of saliva onto his lip, wiping it off with the back of his hand. “What’s the point of that one anyway? Doesn’t seem so important.”

Spider turned as far as his back would allow to look at Quaritch. “It’s probably the most important phrase there is. You’re not just saying you see someone physically in front of you. You see into them, all that they are. You’re acknowledging their being.”

“Hmph, guess I’ll keep practicing then.” The man muttered.

The slightly uneasy silence they settled into persisted well into the day as they continued their path down the coast. Spider was sure they would’ve reached Bridgehead after travelling for such a long time, yet the city continued to move further away.

He didn’t mind.

Whatever kept him away from the General for a little while longer.

The day turned to night soon thereafter. The convoy set down along the cliffs at the edge of the forest, and Spider took the opportunity to sprint to the top of the nearest tree. From there he could see over the canopy and further inland, yet the sight of a lake was not the mountains that he so desperately wanted.

He had toyed with the idea of a getaway. He knew how to survive in the forest, how to avoid and sneak past predators, how to find food and shelter, and most importantly, how to navigate back to High Camp, even if the journey would likely take weeks on foot.

Yet as he witnessed the clockwork efficiency with which the Recoms worked, he knew Quaritch wasn’t bluffing; he would be caught and brought back in less than two minutes, regardless of his traversal skills.

Spider clambered down the branches and strolled back to the makeshift camp. He passed Zdinarsk and Ja, who side-eyed him as they unpacked and hooked the hammocks onto the ropes they tied around the trees.

He wordlessly sat at the fireside and took the smaller pack of rations handed to him. It was soupy and tasted of sand, but it had kept him going for this long.

Wainfleet patrolled around the camp with rifle in hand as the others settled in for the night. Spider sat out the way at the base of a tree. He brushed the small insects that walked over his feet off and looked to the sky. Jake had always taught them the constellations he knew; he’d spent too many nights with Max and Norm. Spider could point with absolute certainty at the star the humans came from.

He didn’t know if he’d consider it his star too.

Before he knew it, sleep had claimed him, and the light of sunrise filtered through his eyelids. It hadn’t been long enough.

With the same practiced efficiency, the party packed up and slung their gear onto their longsuffering Ikran. Spider balked at the names they’d been given, things like “Cupcake” and “Doomslayer”. Not too different from Jake’s Ikran, “Bob”.

It wasn’t long before the great barrier of Bridgehead City rolled into view. The burnt perimeter of land highlighted the heavy industry bruising the landscape of the once untouched forest. Trains rolled along several tracks through breaks in the shield wall, carrying raw materials from satellite mine sites. They were all escorted by a fleet of Seawasp and Scorpion gunships; it seemed the Omatikaya’s raids had caused the Sky People to ramp up their security.

Though he had seen the city from the sky before, Spider couldn’t help but cringe at the sound of the clanking and whirring of construction equipment, nor the heavy beating of airships’ rotors.

It was the first time they had travelled back to the city since the Recoms acquired their Ikrans.

As the convoy touched down, ground personnel reached for and drew their weapons, pointing them at the mounted soldiers. Quartich snarled at them, gesturing to the RDA logo on his bullet-proof vest. Wainfleet had to radio the perimeter turret batteries that they were friendlies and to not shoot them out the air as they came to land.

Spider realised that he felt pleased with himself that the Recoms took his lessons about bonding with their mounts to heart.

He recognised Ardmore’s aid pacing across the tarmac landing zone to meet them. The man tapped away at his tablet, not bothering to look up as soldiers saluted him before going back to work.

Spider rested against Cupcake’s flank when the man reached them and called for Quaritch to follow him. The man in question pulled Spider in-line behind him, Wainfleet signalling for the others to remain with their Ikran, then bringing up the rear.

As they walked through the unfinished paths and buildings, Spider tried to memorise as much of the layout as possible, though a sense of scale was never his strong suit. As far as he could tell, the RDA’s ISVs had each landed at a site of particular interest, potential mines and the like. From the scouting Jake and his warriors had done, they assumed Bridgehead was the central hub. They hadn’t been able to get close enough to the other settlements to survey them without being shot from the sky.

A spider-like construction robot scurried parallel to them. It carried a box of small metal parts that he couldn’t identify, so he jumped on its back and rode it like the surfboards Jake and Norm had told him about on Earth.

Quaritch raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything.

Eventually, the bot turned off their path and began to climb the scaffolding of a partially built tower. Spider leapt from it and stood before the imposing doors of the only complete building he could see.

The man leading them held the door open for Quaritch and Wainfleet to duck inside. Spider followed. Ardmore’s aid brought them through a set of winding corridors and into a large command centre, filled to the brim with operations officers.

Spider couldn’t tell who was being stared at more, him or the Recoms.

Standing by the windows overlooking the city’s harbour was the woman Spider really wished he would never see again. Even now his chest tightened.

The Colonel paced to her, saluting, “General Ardmore.”

The Skel suit put them at eye level. “Glad you could make it, Colonel.”

Spider cringed. Wainfleet snorted beside him.

The woman gestured to the centre of the room, pacing over. Her aid passed up his tablet, which she flicked through then handed it back. She looked to Quaritch, “We picked up a faint radar signal heading out to an archipelago in the sea to the west of the Hallelujah Mountains. Long range scans show a rogue Samson, not one of our call-signs.”

The Recom raised an eyebrow.

“It is, however, one of the Samsons from Hell’s Gates. We believe that it was piloted by one of Sully’s insurgents. He hasn’t been seen in any of their raids recently, and they’ve scaled back their attacks.” Her aid pulled up a map that projected the heading of the airship. The General continued, “We have reason to believe that he has fled to this group of islands,” Within the space she gestured to, thousands of tiny dots littered the sea surface, “And that he took the asset with him. She may have failed the first time, but that’s fixable. It’s time to requisition our weapon.” The General’s sneer had Spider looking up from his place on the edge of the room.

Holograms floated around the space with satellite images and scans of the surrounding environment. One of them displayed an overview of Bridgehead and the ongoing construction; the scale of which chilled the boy to his core.

“Weapon, what weapon?” Spider stopped his fiddling with the seal of his mask. It had started to degrade from the sea salt and the time in the sun. He would have to ask for another.

The Skel suit whirred as Ardmore turned. The mug of coffee she held rattled in the oversized metal fingers. She smirked at him, then met the waiting Recom. “Colonel, I trust you know what to do?”

“That I do ma’am. We’ll see to it.” Quaritch rested his thumbs in his armoured vest. Wainfleet pulled his rifle strap tighter over his chest and adjusted his sunglasses.

“Hmm. We’ve, ah, commandeered a private sector fishing vessel for your blue team.” Ardmore’s aid pulled up an image of an Ekranoplan on one of the holographic monitors. “The captain, Mick Scorseby, has been informed of your arrival. You depart at 0700.”

The Colonel’s grin pulled his lips above his incisors. “Pack your bags, Wainfleet. We’re about to get wet.”

Chapter Text

The waves broke against the sea wall’s gate and groynes, splashing spray into the air and coating the descending Ikran and their riders. The seven-odd group of Recoms and a human circled above one of the two narrow breaks in the wall where massive hydraulics pulled the gate apart, connecting the harbour to the wider ocean.

A pair of Seawasp gunships flew above the wall on their escort of the massive ship passing through. Wainfleet had called it the Sea Dragon. It was a Wing-In-Ground-Effect ship that the RDA contracted as part of its new Cet-Ops division. The briefing they’d received the previous night had only helped Spider fall asleep in his temporary bunk.

He was grateful that his association with the Recombinants gave him his own bed and kept him out of the sanitised cell, as much as it troubled him for thinking that.

Just as the sun cast a faint yellowy glow over the planet, the ship slowed on its hydrofoils and stopped in the water. A pair of personnel climbed onto the roof with glowing red sticks and directed for them to land.

The Ikrans’ claws slipped over the glossy metal surface until they found purchase in the chinks of the hull’s plating. One by one, the soldiers dismounted and fell in behind their leader. Spider jumped onto the handrail and looked down to the door that led into the cockpit.

He frowned when the captain exited the airlock, only just placing his mask on in time. The man wore a scowl that Spider could see was permanently etched into the lines of his face. He immediately didn’t like him, maybe not as much as Ardmore, but at least he was with the group that held the power in the situation, rather than the other way round.

The feeling of vulnerability had itched under his skin. He had almost clawed his way down to the bone that first night in the cell, trying to gain some sense of security in front of the window through which he was watched.

“You Scorseby?” Quaritch dropped from the roof with a heavy thunk.

“Yaha. Are you the arsehole that’s commandeering my ship?”

The man’s Hawaiian shirt fluttered in the breeze. Spider noted how out of place it was amongst the uniformed crewmembers and soldiers. He took a few balanced steps along the handrail and jumped down beside another crewmember who exited after Scorseby, this one with a greying beard and glasses.

“That would be me.” Quaritch was becoming annoyed with the small man; Spider noticed the way his lips pulled slightly higher than normal, showing more of his incisors.

Scorseby crossed his arms, “I dunno what the General told you, but I got quotas to fill. We don’t report to her.”

Quaritch gestured wide, “Then we won’t get in your way. We’re just here to, uh, tag along. Use this boat as a mobile base.”

Spider still hadn’t become used to the slightly crazed look Quaritch would frequently have in his eyes.

The small man gave an agitated sigh, then flung the airlock door to the bridge open. The other man followed behind. Spider noted the way his eyes lingered warily on Quaritch and Wainfleet.

As the door hissed closed and the airlock pressurised, Wainfleet called the other Recoms down to them. The Ikrans had taken up roost on the roof, their heads tucked under their wings, slow breaths emanating from their weird lung holes. The other soldiers jumped onto the platform and pulled out their breathing masks, hanging the devices from their necks.

One by one, the door hissed open and closed as the pressure equalised. Spider was pushed in too just before an irritated looking Zdinarsk, but after several months of not being able to remove his mask, the air in there tasted amazing, much fresher than his exopack.

Kiri had always given him such a deep expression of pity when he mentioned how good the air in the lab units was.

They were led through the depths of the ship, the Recoms having to crouch through most doorways, until they reached the belly of the beast. Spider felt his muscles grow tighter at the sheer amount of equipment the boat possessed. Strewn over the deck were boxes upon boxes of munitions, various glass-covered vehicles and bright yellow scaffolded walkways.

They slowed and stopped by a small set of stairs leading further into the hull.

The captain sneered again, “Not enough bunks for the lot of ya, ‘specially with your size. Have fun.” He forced a laugh through his teeth and set about climbing the stairs back to the bridge.

The Recoms pulled their packs from their backs, standing at attention for Quaritch. He swung his rifle on its strap around his side, placing his hands on his hips. Spider hopped over to a covered pallet, climbing to the top and sitting. It put him at eye level with the others.

“Sully’s fled, no matter. We came here to get our weapon back, so that’s what we’re gonna do.” The Recoms nodded.

“You still haven’t told me what this weapon is.” Nonchalance was his only way of veiling the pure terror he felt. He knew the Sullys would never remain in the forest. As much as they belonged there, Spider knew they would not stay in the place the RDA knew to look. Yet he hoped and prayed the Samson’s signal that led them to this place was only Norm going on an expedition, nothing more.

He didn’t know if he was naïve for thinking that.

The soldiers turned to him, every single one of them smirking. Almost every one. Spider couldn’t make out Quaritch’s expression, but it was far from mocking.

The Recombinant took Wainfleet’s tablet from him. He held the map up, “From the beacon we pinged, he and the asset are somewhere in these archipelagos. We’ll spread out, take a group of islands each. Send your reports back every night, but we stay on the islands ‘til we find something. Don’t need to waste time travelling.”

Lonnie fiddled with a spare band from her place on the floor of the Marui. Kiri sat beside her, changing the dressings on her cut tail. Lonnie had insisted that she could do it herself, Jake and Norm had shown her how, but Kiri said she needed something to occupy her hands.

Since waking from her seizure, as Norm had called it, Kiri had been told to take it easy, to not stress herself. Ronal had reiterated that point upon her return. But the constant confinement to their pod made her antsy, and she wasn’t the only one.

Tuk and Neteyam sat to the side, by the entrance, working on repairing a basket. Tuk too needed to be occupied, lest she start crying again. Lonnie had had enough tears for a lifetime, yet she couldn’t fault the girl for not understanding the situation. For all the child knew, her parents and the Olo’eyktan were stopping her from seeing her friends for seemingly no reason.

At least Lo’ak appeared to be resting. Lonnie watched the boy’s chest rise and fall from his prone form over on the sleeping mats.

Once Kiri finished retying the bandages, she set about taming Lonnie’s hair. Lonnie had to resist the urge to flinch as the knots were pulled from her locks, but her hair had remained untamed since she was confined to the Omatikaya’s makeshift cell. It was matted and messy and needed a good wash with all the salt and sand in it.

Kiri pulled a wooden comb gently through it to remove as many of the tangles as she could. It took a while. She then brought over a bowl of water and pulled Lonnie’s shoulder gently back, indicating for her to lie down.

Lonnie lowered her head above the basin in Kiri’s lap. Slowly, Kiri lathered and washed the gunk and debris from her hair, restoring it to the soft black strands that she and Tuk had braided all those weeks ago.

As Lonnie’s hair dried, Kiri set about braiding it. The tight weave squeezed the water from it, the tiny wooden beads Kiri gave her keeping it all in place.

Lonnie smiled gratefully.

It slipped from her face when Jake and Neytiri appeared at the pod’s entrance. All the children turned with awaiting gazes. Neteyam jabbed his elbow into Lo’ak’s side. The couple paced inside and sat against one of the walls by the cookfire. With all the experience of fifteen years of marriage, they spoke only through their eyes.

Lonnie watched their ears and mouths twitch as the silent conversation continued, before Jake shut his eyes and inhaled deeply. He turned to them with tightly clasped hands.

“Two full tidal cycles. One hundred and eighty days. That’s what was decided. We aren’t to leave the village. If we leave the walkways around the Marui, we are to have a Metkayina warrior with us. No going out past the reef, no swimming at the main beaches. Lo’ak, Neteyam and myself will patrol with the other Taronyu. Kiri and your mother will prepare food and medicine for the clan. Lonnie will stay here.”

The silence deafened the family.

Then the uproar began.

“What?! That’s insane.”

“But I want to see my friends.”

“We can’t go to the Spirit Tree?”

Jake held up his hand. The children silenced, but their tone of injustice remained. Neytiri placed a hand on his bicep when he spoke again, “Tonowari didn’t have to give us this.”

“You expect us to be grateful?” Lo’ak scoffed.

Neytiri shot him a glare. The boy backed down.

Jake sighed, then looked to his mate. Neytiri softened her gaze, then turned to the children, “Your father and I made a decision, to not tell them the full truth of our situation, and we realise it was not the right one. I did not wish to come here, but it is where we find ourselves.”

“We’ll get through this. Sullys stick together. It’s just another bump in our journey.” Kiri rolled her eyes. Jake continued, “But I mean it this time, any messing around, any stepping out of line, and our place here is in jeopardy. We won’t get another chance.”

Lonnie curled herself up into a ball. She tried her best not to weep.

The next few days were strange. It was the best way Kiri could describe it. After their initial disbelief at their restricted access to life amongst the clan, they had each realised just how much freedom they still had. Although they didn’t all come to that conclusion at the same time.

Tuk was elated that she could still see her friends; the youngest of the Sullys had been exempted from almost all the conditions, for Tonowari reasoned such a young child would not have swayed her parents’ decision making.

The parents of those friends, however, weren’t too keen on the girl playing with their children.

Lo’ak sulked around the pod. He had told Kiri he’d been meaning to talk to Tsireya, to ask if she was okay, and to explain everything as best he could. Only the threat of a knot in his tail had made him leave the pod to accompany the Metkayina Taronyu on their day-long patrols.

Neteyam too was put on patrol, though always at different times or on different routes from his brother and father. He threw himself into the work, not allowing his mind to wander too far from the task at hand. The other warriors watched him carefully, and he knew they were reporting everything back to Tonowari.

The boy didn’t know what had happened on that trip his father and Lonnie had taken with the chief, but whatever was revealed there, combined with Lonnie’s attack on Tsireya, had brought about this punishment.

The sun bore down on his skin, drying the salt and cracking the surface under its intense heat. Only the faint breeze that occasionally blew offered any respite. Yet he knew he mustn’t complain.

Every morning, one of the Tsahìk’s assistants would bring Kiri and her mother ingredients for the poultices and ointments they were instructed to make. The items would be left by the pod’s entrance, and the mother and daughter would sit in silence as they carried out their work.

It gave Kiri too much time to think.

She wished she had been able to talk to Norm and Max about her seizure, yet the scientists had been ordered in no uncertain terms that they were to leave and not return to the village. Their unannounced arrival hadn’t aided the Olo’eyktan’s perception of her family.

Her head had throbbed for days after waking. Her brain pounded against the front of her skull, and even slipping into sleep didn’t subside the pain. It was only the passage of time that caused it to lessen.

Below her feet, small glowfish danced and twirled their way along illuminated trails through the water. She swayed her legs back and forth and watched the critters react, changing direction rapidly, yet continuing to weave their patterns.

The sun had set hours ago, leaving Eywa’eveng in darkness. The Tanhì on her skin and the reef below were the only things providing light.

Kiri pulled as much as she could remember from her vision at the Spirit Tree to the forefront of her mind; she could not forget it, not completely. The experience plagued her waking hours, working silently in the pod.

The sight of those eyes meeting hers was the last thing she remembered, before everything stopped, and she woke lying down in the Marui, with her family around her.

The grey walls, the enormous buildings, the dead landscape, that was no place for a person to live, let alone a child. The streets had echoed with the sounds of nothing. The sky was uniform in colour. The whole place had been abandoned by life itself.

She had brought some of her work to where Lonnie sat, spending her days teaching Lonnie the basics of the craft. Lonnie practically pleaded with the girl to not go out of her way to help her, yet Kiri refused with a smile. It was only then she realised Lonnie had resigned herself to living a half-life, with no connection to those around her. 

Kiri’s ears twitched backwards. Soft, but large feet padded their way across the walkway. Jake sat beside her. The faint smell of smoke from the extinguished fire at their backs clung to his skin, and she inhaled the scent so familiar.

“What is it, baby girl?” His voice was soft.

She picked at her nails. What harm it would do in telling him, she did not know. “I saw something, when I connected with the tree.”

He waited for her to continue, yet received nothing more. He reached out and pulled her shoulder under his arm. “Care to share?”

She snorted. Jake smiled at his daughter, she was never one to be prim and proper.

Just as quickly as the light-heartedness came, it evaporated.

Kiri hung her head. She spoke moments later, “I was on Earth, I think. There were massive buildings everywhere, no life that I could see.” She looked up to her father’s wide eyes. “I saw someone running. I didn’t know what from, but then I saw she was being chased. This pack, they were like Nantangs, hunting her down. They attacked her in an alley.” Kiri inhaled sharply, “I think it was Lonnie, dad, back when she was human.”

Jake blinked, “Are you sure?”

She nodded, “Her eyes were different. Darker, greener. She was much older than in your photo. But her face was the same. I don’t know how the Great Mother knows what she showed me, but I think she’s telling us Lonnie’s in danger.”

Kiri watched the muscles in her father’s face pull taught. His throat bobbed when he spoke again, “You must tell your mother this. But not Lonnie, she’s been through enough. I don’t know what it will do if her memories resurface.”

Chapter Text

The patrol was mostly uneventful. The Taronyu had spotted several Akula hunting in the deep waters off a nearby island, but these individuals were deemed too big to fit between the gaps in the village’s sea wall. Still, they were close enough to be of concern for the young children who played in the reef.

Several warriors met with Tonowari to report their findings, so Lo’ak had been dismissed back to his Marui. Another warrior, he couldn’t remember her name, escorted him, and he kept his head down as he travelled through the walkways.

The passing distrustful glances were something he’d grown used to over the weeks since their arrival, only now the contempt had solidified into something palpable.

The warrior’s feet stopped abruptly and Lo’ak almost ran into her back. He regained his balance, then looked up to her hard gaze. Standing on the walkway was the person he’d been trying to talk to for almost a week now.

Momentarily, he started to smile to her. His spine froze at the way Tsireya’s eyes lost their warmth and happiness when she saw him. The basket on her hip sagged under the weight of her hardened stare, and Lo’ak’s hopeful expression. They hadn’t spoken since Kiri’s seizure.

Lo’ak at least had the shame to duck his head. “Tsireya, I… I wanted to talk to you.”

Her voice dripped with no malice, yet it sounded so dissimilar to the girl he had enjoyed being around. “My father has requested I do not do the same.”

She went to set off again, but Lo’ak’s hand found its way to her shoulder. He gently stayed her movement, eyes beseeching, “Please, I want to explain.”

“So now you deem it necessary to provide information?” Tsireya raised an eyebrow.

He brushed the back of his neck, feeling the crystals of salt rubbing off. “It’s not what you think.”

When Tsireya scoffed, he took a step back. He didn’t know she was capable of such a sound. He implored her again, “Please, Reya. I know she hurt you, and the village’s trust, but I just want to talk.”

For a split second, he saw the warmth return to her. She flicked her eyes over to his, and the teal blue felt like the touch of the sun after a day in the water. But only for a second.

She sighed, then gestured to the basket she held, “I will give this to my mother.” She nodded to the warrior at his back, “Feeya, would please take him to the crabbing beach? There shouldn’t be anyone there now.”

Feeya nodded. She took the lead as Lo’ak followed her back the way they came. He chanced a glance back at Tsireya. The girl continued to watch him, but Lo’ak could see that she wasn’t holding on to her contempt.

He nodded gratefully to his guide when they met the sand. It was a secluded beach with many rocks protruding from the shallow water. Even from the mangrove roots he could see the enormous number of crabs and other small creatures scuttling between hidey-holes.

He sat at the water’s edge, where the waves were nothing more than ripples after breaking on the outcrops. By the time the sand had dug its way under his nails, he heard the sound of Tsireya’s voice talking to Feeya. The Taronyu remained behind them, just at the edge of earshot. Yet he was thankful Tsireya had afforded him this opportunity.

She sat beside him in the sand. He could make out her turning towards him, patiently waiting for him to start speaking. It took him a while to muster up the courage, yet he knew if he didn’t explain now, Tsireya would likely not offer him another opportunity, and he’d be killing himself internally for not biting the bullet.

“I’m sorry for what happened. None of us wanted you to get hurt. We had no idea that...” Lo’ak hung his head. He could still see the faint mark the knife left on her neck, thankfully having long since closed over. Off to a good start, Lo’ak.

Tsireya regarded him quietly. It was fair to say Lo’ak felt intimidated by the shear emotional intelligence that lay beneath her calm visage. “My father hasn’t told me what happened between him and your father on the island, and I suspect you father has kept you in the dark too. I would like you to explain what you know about Lonnie.”

Tsireya was a good listener, even through Lo’ak’s rambling and disjointed recount.

He told the story from the beginning, or as much as he could remember through the period of great change for him and his family. Finding Lonnie in the Samson, losing Spider to the Recoms. He had to stop and explain what a Recombinant actually was when he got to part where they learnt Lonnie had been forcefully transferred to her new body.

“Is that different to the Avatars the Omatikaya use?”

The question had genuinely stumped Lo’ak. “I don’t think so?” Tsireya watched his thought process through the movements of his face. “My dad was a human who drove an Avatar, then was transferred to it by Eywa. A Recom is the memories and mind of a dead human in an Avatar itself. There’s no other body in the process. They’re clones, that’s what Norm called them.”

“What would you consider Lonnie?”

He scratched the back of his neck, “That’s a better question for the science guys. I only know what I know through them.”

“But what do you think?” Tsireya patted his arm gently.

“I don’t know what I think she is, biologically speaking. But I know she’s my sort-of sister, and that she needs help.”

He continued with his recount, from learning that Lonnie was his dad’s first child, to his mother’s reaction, to the girl’s gradual integration into the clan.

He spoke of her initial attack on Jake, where they first learnt of the voices she heard, and her confinement in the clan whilst they decided what to do. Tsireya didn’t like the logic behind their leaving the Omatikaya, nor did she like how they did not tell her father. Yet she knew she wasn’t faultless, what with agreeing with Aonung to effectively spy on the siblings.

“We kept it a secret because we don’t know what causes her attacks. Sometimes it just… happens.” He gestured vaguely into the distance. “Other times, things provoke it, like the Ilu.” His hands shot up in surrender when Tsireya glared at him. “Hey, no-one blames you. It’s completely our fault for not stopping her, for not seeing it could’ve been a danger. We should’ve been more careful.”

“My dad is by no means the best one, but he’s trying with her,” He snorted to himself, muttering something Tsireya didn’t catch. “My mum too. But please, whatever you do, don’t blame her. Kiri, Neteyam and I all want to help, and Tuk loves having another sister. You wouldn’t want to upset Tuk, would you?”

Tsireya smiled.

And Lo’ak was happy to have his friend back.

Lonnie flopped her back against the Marui wall as she finished adding and mixing the final ingredient of her tincture. It had taken her many hours and three attempts, but she raised Neytiri’s one to her nose and smelt it. Comparing it to her own, she reasoned they were similar enough. Probably still a good idea to get the woman to take a look at it when she woke.

The light of the small candle flickered eerily from its stand on the boxes beside her. It cast gloomy faint shadows upon the walls and reflected lightly off the water below the pod.

It was calm that night, a storm having blown through a couple days before. It hadn’t been as large as the one prior, yet it still brought destruction and several injuries with it. Neteyam, Lo’ak and Jake had been ordered onto the repair crew that was going around and reconstructing several damaged walkways, whilst the healers of the village, Neytiri, Kiri and Lonnie too, had worked double time to build up the stocks of medicines for when the stormy season arrived in its entirety.

The other Sullys lay on their sleeping mats, or more of, on Jake and Neytiri’s sleeping mat; the children’s own ones abandoned in their places. Neytiri had pulled a curled up Tuk to her chest, whilst Lo’ak and Neteyam slept beside their father.

Lonnie looked up from her work to the soft scene on the other side of the pod. She had said she’d stay up with Kiri to help the other girl finish her work, but Kiri had passed out and slumped beside the pile of ingredients not long ago.

She smiled at the other girl, gently moving a soft pile of fabric below her awkwardly contorted neck. She set about clearing up the day’s work, moving piles of dried leaves and reeds to one side, then grabbing handfuls of ground dried berries and placing them back in their containers, as Neytiri had shown her.

She tied the reeds together then set back and looked out the door to the far horizon. The stars sparkled in the sky; it reminded her of when she woke on the spaceship. Of all the things she did remember, that craft wasn’t something she wanted to.

Yet their glittering nature couldn’t help but calm her. She extinguished the dwindling candle and lay on her front with her chin on her hands. The crick in her neck slowly reappeared, having formed from sleeping at awkward angles on her mat over the past weeks.

She listened to the quiet sounds of the waves. They swirled around the base of the mangrove’s enormous roots, white foam bubbling and fizzing away before another wave created more. Their sound called out to her, enticing her back below the surface, to the incredible underwater world she had experienced.

Lonnie smiled to herself. She knew she was adapting, if slowly, to the new environment.

Yet the call didn’t subside.

She sat up and frowned down at her body. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, aside from the Na’vi aspect. But there was a distinct calling she could feel in her chest, like a tiny thread had been wrapped around her and was being minutely tugged on from the other end.

It didn’t sound like the voices she so feared; there was no eruption of noise inside her skull, nothing vying for control of her limbs and mind.

No, this felt gentle, almost kind.

She rose to her feet and stretched her neck. The call had intensified, but nothing about it was painful. It drew her to mouth of the Marui.

She traipsed slowly over Kiri, wincing when her toe caught the slumbering girl’s clothing in the dark.

“Lonnie… have to… stay… here. Can’t leave… pod.” Kiri blinked an eye open slowly, but its weight closed it a moment later.

“Just going for a walk.” Lonnie glanced back to where Kiri’s faint snores had restarted.

The village was silent, only the distant dots of the patrols visible along the reef wall. No one walked along the strung paths, giving her easy access to the beach on the inner part of the island. She followed the pull when it changed direction to guide her down another path, this time further along the back of the pods.

She paused when she recognised the Olo’eyktan’s Marui. The thought of being caught momentarily froze her movements, yet no light emanated from the pod. She set off again when the pull became slightly more incessant.

Like an invisible string threaded through the island, it led her over stones and through trees and foliage until she came to the base of the hills at the centre. Her hands scrambled at the rocks and moss in the dark with only the faint bioluminescence lighting her path. The blues and greens looked less vibrant than the glow of the ocean, but no less beautiful.

With scrapped hands and feet, she eventually made it to the top of the small peak. She slid down the compacted dirt of the other side and down onto another beach, this one linked to the next island by a shallow sand bank.

By the time she lost track of how many islands she’d crossed, the sky began to brighten from pitch black to a lighter grey. The stars had lost some of their glitter in the passing hours, several disappearing from view entirely, yet she still continued on.

The calling hadn’t subsided, if anything, the further she travelled, the stronger it got. Now it felt like a giant had its hand around her body and was bringing her forward into its clutches. She felt no fear, and she soon knew why.

It had brought her back to that beach. The one Kiri had found her on after she’d attacked Tsireya.

Lonnie had no idea how Kiri had known where to go, especially over such a great distance. At the time, she had been too consumed by fear of herself and her actions that she hadn’t given it any thought.

Now, though, there was no fear, just wash of calmness.

She took a seat against the base of a large frond tree and dug her feet into the cool sand. The sky was now a faint orange with the sunrise, and the stars had almost entirely disappeared.

As the cool breeze of night changed to the growing warmth of the morning, she felt no desire to return to the village, rules be damned. She didn’t know why, but this place seemed like it wanted her to be there.

Only the smallest of creatures moved along the sand, tiny crabs, a lizard looking thing. Even the plants asked for her to stay amongst them.

When the heat burnt at her skin, turning the blue faintly more pink, she opened her eyes to a brightly lit scene. The sun was well above the horizon now, casting long shadows onto the world.

Despite her desire to remain, Lonnie knew she could be cast out for breaking the terms of their punishment. The feeling of guilt that so often plagued her returned, now with a vengeance. She didn’t want the others to suffer for a journey she took on her own.

What was she thinking? How could she let something control her again? To give up herself to some other force. Jake would be ashamed.

Her heart pounded when her feet met the sand in a sprint. Now with the sunlight, the islands looked entirely different to the previous night. She stopped when she encountered a sandbank leading to three different islands. The water had risen to divide them once again. Lonnie’s legs shivered at the frigid temperature, but still she ran.

The panic rose to a sob in her throat when she came to a landmass she was sure she didn’t cross. She was getting more lost by the minute.

Just as she picked a direction and ran off, something sharp jabbed her leg. She looked down, expecting to see a rock brushing against her calf. Instead, a metal capsule jutted from her ankle, with a thin trail of blood now dripping down to her foot.

Her leg collapsed below her, the muscles turning to liquid. Her hands scrambled at the sand to pull her forward and away from wherever the dart had come from.

Then her arm went limp. The weaker one continued to pull until it too no longer responded.

Her head fell against the sand.

Her neck didn’t respond to her brain’s garbled commands to move her head and search for danger, but just from the corner of her fuzzy vision, she saw something blue appear.

She thanked the stars that Jake had found her and relaxed her attempts at motion.

Only the person approaching didn’t wear the same clothing as her father, there was far too much of it, hell he didn’t even have hair. Something long and metallic hung from his side.

The last thing she felt before her mind lost its battle with the encroaching blackness was someone roughly pulling her from the sand and flinging her over his shoulder.

Chapter Text

Kiri woke when the sound of shuffling overwhelmed her ears. She gave them an irritated flick, hoping whoever was moving would take the hint and quieten down.

They did not.

With all the exasperation of a teenager, she sighed loudly and slowly pried her eyes open. It was later than she usually woke, and her siblings too seemed to have taken an extra hour to sleep in. One of the plus sides of being under house arrest, she supposed.

Looking around the pod, her mother was not in her usual place on the sleeping mat; she could see the empty places left by both her parents, her siblings still curled as they had been during the night. Lonnie was not amongst the pile. That’s when she spotted the source of the noise.

Her father flung his way through his boxes and crates at the Marui’s entrance. His laptop lay strewn over the floor and disregarded in his haste. His ammo vest drooped from one shoulder with unclasped buckles whilst he emptied the contents onto the floor.

She frowned when he obviously didn’t find what he was frantically looking for. He opened another box and continued his search, leaving the other one open and empty.

Kiri cleared her throat. Jake spun rapidly around, eyes searching for danger. Kiri pulled back at the unfamiliar panic she saw.

He settled down, though only slightly, on realising his daughter was awake. He placed his arms on the ground and swung his legs and body over to her. Kiri felt her vision go blurry when he hurriedly shook her. “Kiri, Kiri, have you seen Lonnie?” Even his voice was frantic.

It took a moment for her brain to settle in her skull. “Yeah, she was helping me last night. I fell asleep-“

Jake dropped his hands and ran from the pod. Not a moment later he returned with the last person she expected to see.

Tonowari entered and crouched with Jake before her. His face was grave, “What happened, girl?”

She took a moment to blink the sleep out of her eyes. That was obviously not the urgency the Olo’eyktan and her father wanted. Jake gave her shoulder a gentle shake again, endearing her to answer.

She recalled as much as she could remember from the night before. Her family went to bed whilst she continued with the work she hadn’t finished that day. Just as Lonnie went to turn in for the night, she had offered to help.

“She helped me with the tinctures and salves we were preparing. I didn’t finish mine, so she did some after you went to bed.” She gestured to Jake. The next part of her memory was blurry at best, what with the late hour last night and the tedious repetition of following recipes. “I must’ve fallen asleep.”

“Hmph. Jakesully, our warriors will find your daughter.” Kiri didn’t like how Tonowari looked at her father. He planted his spear against the floor and pulled himself to his feet, turning to several Taronyu by the entrance.

Then it hit her like a ton of bricks. “Wait! I remember waking. She was walking out the Marui and stepped over me.”

Jake rushed to her instantly. “Was she in control?!” His eyes were wide and desperate.

When she nodded Jake blew all the air from his lungs in relief. “Do you know where she went? How long has she been gone?”

“She said she was going for a walk. I don’t remember what time it was, but it was late, after you fell asleep.”

Jake left his daughter on the Marui floor and chased after Tonowari out onto the flaxen paths. When he called, he had to reluctantly remind himself of what the other man had said on the other island, that he wasn’t Olo’eyktan. “Brother, where do you need me?”

Tonowari glanced back from the warriors he was briefing. Jake waited for another moment as the Taronyu repeated their instructions and left. The chief turned to speak to him, “You will remain here. I will permit you to search the reef, but you do not go beyond. Do I make myself clear?”

Jake deflated. But soon, the rising indignation took over, “You won’t let me help the search for my own daughter?”

Tonowari didn’t rise to meet the bait. His firm gaze softened, “I have all my warriors looking for her. Do not forget, Toruk Makto, that I have two children of my own.”

Lonnie was getting rather tired of waking up in metal rooms. Just as before, it took her several blinks to clear her vision and remember what was happening.

This room had a bench hanging from one wall, obviously not proportioned for a Na’vi. In fact, the whole cell resembled the inside of the scientists’ shack at High Camp. Just as she swung her legs to the floor and clutched at her throbbing skull, she was jolted into the opposite wall.

The entire room pitched violently forward, then righted itself. Her elbows and knees pulled in as she nursed the new bruises. She hadn’t noticed the roaring coming through the cell door, but now that it had stopped, her ears perked for any sound she could detect.

The box in her mind rattled in the abrupt silence. For a moment, she considered if they would help her escape the confinement, but she quickly tore down the thought. No, if she ever truly wanted to be rid of them, she couldn’t turn to them in any scenario.

When she heard people shouting from the other side, she sprung to the tiny window in the door. It allowed just enough orange light through for her to realise it was well into the late afternoon and approaching dusk.

Personnel wearing bright red life jackets and exopack masks hurried past the window. None paid any attention to the girl in the cell.

Every time she hammered her fist or kicked her foot against the metal, the enticing call of the voices whispered for her to latch on, and every time they did, she was forced to calm herself.

She slumped down to the floor. That’s when she saw the other light source in the room. A glass porthole lay inset in the outer wall, far too small for her to climb through, even if she could open it, but it showed her the undulating waves of the ocean.

So she was on a boat, and a big one at that.

Just as she went to look away, the sight of land caught her eye. A massive spit of rock slid into view, made of piles upon piles of boulders arranged in a line.

The sound of a blaring horn almost made her jump out of her skin. She watched as massive gates pulled apart and allowed the ship through. The horn sounded again.

Around the edge of the harbour, enormous cranes hauled cargo from other transports. Airships buzzed across the sky, appearing to be the size of flies. She watched one sail towards the ship before losing sight of it above the porthole. In the distance, on the other wharf, giant pillars of concrete and glass jutted from the scarred landscape.

Lonnie could feel the tears pooling at the back of her eyes. These were the people who’d tortured her, the ones who built her and twisted her into a weapon.

She needed to be anywhere but here.

A crack in her mind’s confining space formed. Instantly, the roar within her skull started. She could feel her conscious thoughts being shoved out the way, replaced by commanding and persuasive tones. They slid through her nervous system and into her muscles.

She slapped herself across the face. Hard.

The stinging pain pulled her mind back to the surface, anchoring herself and lifting a hand to the new bruise she’d acquired. She collapsed against the bench.

The sensitive pads of her fingers examined the thrumming vibration of the ship’s engines as it pulled into the dock. Her other arm was tucked behind her neck, supporting her head. To any onlooker, they would assume she was relaxed. Unless they came close enough to hear her heartrate matching the vibrations around her.

The ship jolted again when it roughly met the dock. Personnel called out from the other side of the cell door, orders for where to tie ropes and which cargo to start offloading. Lonnie didn’t let herself tune fully into the shouts, but the cold, sharp bite of the metal began to seep through the meagre insulation of her clothing. So she sat and waited.

It took longer than she expected for someone to come to her.

By then the sounds of the personnel had dissipated into another disturbing silence. The ships engines had shut off, and the little warm air that entered through a tiny vent ceased.

Lonnie was almost thankful when someone started speaking from the other side of the door. She looked up to see are large set of yellow eyes peering through the slot window. They flicked to her, then shut the outer hatch hastily.

“She’s awake.” She heard someone say, then the door was wrenched open.

Two large Na’vi soldiers advanced forward, followed closely by several humans with rifles, who stood guard by the door.

The Na’vi swiftly cornered her and grabbed an arm each. Lonnie kicked the female one in the leg and pulled away from her grip. The male one lunged for her, but she rolled off the bench and onto the floor, twisting his arm in the process.

She was met the open end of numerous barrels.

The Na’vi soldiers kicked the back of her knees and dropped her to the floor. She groaned at the abuse.

“Come quietly, buttercup.” The male one was bald, leaving her to briefly wonder if he was the who shot her.

They pulled her arms behind her back and bound her wrists and elbows tightly. Manacles were clasped on her ankles, spanned by a short strap. They lifted her to her feet and shoved her towards the exit. The soldiers parted, revealing a whole other squad with aimed rifles setup in a semi-circle.

They marched her forward, the ankle bindings stopping her from running.

Flanking on either side, squads of armoured personnel escorted her. They gave a wide berth, far enough to properly aim their weapons. To her front and back, the Na’vi soldiers walked. She didn’t miss the five fingers on each of their hands.

They pushed her over a plank and onto the solid dock. She stumbled off, ankle strap tripping up her feet. The Na’vi soldier came close and shoved her to keep walking. Her tail shot up in alarm at the contact and wacked against his leg. The skin beneath the dirty bandages ripped, revealing the old cut. Blood blossomed on the cloth.

Lonnie yelped, high pitch and loud, and the soldier slapped her temple.

“Keep walking.”

By the time they entered a building, her feet were red and raw. The unforgiving tarmac ripped at her soles and burnt the flesh from the red-hot heat of the sun. The cool relief of the building’s metal floors was short lived.

The squads of personnel fell in line to pass through the narrow halls, whilst the other soldiers kept a close guard of her. Again, her toes caught on the raised doorframes that jutted up, but still they shoved her down winding turns and long stretches of nothing.

People wearing ghost-white lab coats flitted around them in the larger atriums they passed through. Some of them glanced up from their work, some paid them no heed. None showed any sign of remorse for the girl being marched through.

They turned down a final corridor and stopped. The chattering of the workers echoed through the stone-cold walls, even this far in. Before them lay a short corridor with glass doors on either side. A keypad glowed a faint blue in dim light, one positioned by each door.

Something broke in her.

She turned and charged into the Na’vi soldier behind her. From the shock alone, he flinched backwards and she sailed past him, crashing into the personnel and falling to the floor. A hand wrapped around her tail and pulled, hard. The sound of ripping filled the hall as the skin opened up and gushed through the binding.

The man threw her to the ground inside the cell and locked the door behind him.

Lonnie’s screaming stopped when blood left her mouth. Her throat was as raw as the tender skin of her feet, burnt and bleeding from the jaggedness of their surrounds. She struggled and she kicked, yet the restraints that held her were designed for a Na’vi much bigger and stronger than herself.

The moment she woke up in that machine, the voices took over. They pushed her down to the depths of her subconscious, deeper than any part of the ocean, where the pressure crushed her bones and liquified her brain.

She fought back against them, to regain her body. Yet the flashing green light that spun with the machine around her head pulled her eyes from her control. The screeching noise of its spinning folded her ears to her skull, and the restraints locked her limbs in place.

She felt her memories pulled from her skull and brought to the Sky People on a silver platter, knowledge examined and chopped to pieces, then shoved back into her in a random order. Nothing was sacred, and they took it all and erased every time she felt joy or happiness in this body.

Her mind collapsed under the weight. Stillness took over. Slow, quiet voices whispered sweet nothings, to let go and fall away from it all.

Then she woke in the cell.

It took her a long time to muster the strength to open her eyes to the stark whiteness of everything. Her arms and legs were criss-crossed with lightning bolt scars, all emanating from their own circular epicentres. She hissed through gritted teeth when she pressed into one lightly.

Her tail didn’t fare any better. The cut from the island was open and oozing a yellow liquid onto the smooth floor. At least the metal soothed her burning fever.

Ignoring the cries of her body, she sprung into a crouch when the door hissed open. Standing before her was not the Recombinant soldiers she so despised, nor any military personnel. Instead, a human boy, dressed in a fabric loincloth and faded blue paint stripes walked hesitantly through the door. When it shut behind him, she didn’t miss his look of faint panic through the glass covering his face.

He ducked down to meet her level, but still kept his distance by the door. In his hand was a bright red bag with a cross on it, a medical kit. He held it forward, gesturing for her to take it.

“For you. That tail needs cleaning.” She didn’t miss the perfect Na’vi he spoke.

She glanced to his waist. No knives or weapons were mounted there, but she couldn’t see his back. When she didn’t take bag, he placed it on the ground and slid it across. It came to a stop halfway.

Tentatively, she kept her eyes locked on him and moved towards the bag. When unzipped, it revealed an assortment of medical supplies, sutures and bandages and saline solutions. She couldn’t help but look thankful to the stranger.

He smiled back and sat against the wall of the cell.

The disinfectant stung even more than the one Tonowari had used, but she washed the wound thoroughly. Her lip was bleeding by the end of it.

“My name’s Spider.” She didn’t miss how he didn’t ask hers. He frowned at her trembling arms that failed to thread the suture needle. “Here, let me.”

Lonnie looked up to him. He wore a hopeful smile. It was charming in a way, and held a wild spirit she’d grown so accustomed to seeing amongst the Na’vi.

But she wasn’t sure she was willing to trust him with such a vulnerability. The needle and thread dropped from her hands onto the floor. He looked down and carefully padded over, keeping his hands in her view. Spider picked up the items and gestured for her to bring her tail around.

Cautiously, she handed the now clean appendage to him. With expert hands and deft fingers, he carefully sealed the wound from the outside world. It hurt far less than it would’ve if she’d done it herself.

She gave him a tentative smile when he tied the thread off and placed the needle in a waste bag. The new bandages were tight but warm as he wrapped them around.

She whispered, “Thank you.”

She could never tell how frequently Spider visited. In that room, with lights blazing constantly, it felt like someone had taken a hammer to her body’s clock. Time lost its meaning from her place in the corner, rocking back and forth for some semblance of comfort.

Although he always brought food when he came, so she never went hungry. Yet it seemed her stomach had adjusted much faster to the irregularity of it than her head.

Always in high spirits, he would talk to her. About what, she never really knew. The loss of time took high level thought with it too. When she did ask about her captors, he shook his head, and reminded her that he too was as good as a prisoner.

Even with his visits, and the knowledge of outside events he brought, she could feel her sanity being chipped away at with a pickaxe. She’d wake and feel another piece of herself disappear.

First to go was the tightly bound chain around the box in her mind, even when not in the machine. Instead of a rush, the voices trickled out. Instead of chanting, they hummed softly. Instead of full control, they tested; which parts could they manipulate and what would require more time.

And she was powerless to stop them.

She’d cried horrible tears when she couldn’t keep her arm still enough to bring food to her mouth. Spider sat and gently guided the spoon for her. It had broken him too.

The scars and burns littered her arms, chest and back; ugly contortions of tissue and scabs that would never fully heal. The chest piece given to her by Neytiri was tangled beyond repair and torn in several places. But her arm band remained untouched.

The last piece they hadn’t taken.

She knew she would sometimes leave the room and return with new scars. She only saw the door open, the next thing she could remember were rough hands pushing her back inside. Every time brought new marks, and the gaps in her memory were so wide she couldn’t see the other side.

“They know. They know where they are.” The words took far too much effort to form.

Spider stopped the spoon in the air. His eyes blew wide and breath stuttered.

He was dragged kicking and screaming from the cell afterwards.

So it continued. Another piece of herself would vanish, and she would be left to tie together what remained. She lost track of Spider’s visits. Sometimes it would seem like he walked out the door, only to come back a second later. The sounds he spoke only echoed through her head, no longer forming into words.

The blue stripes painted on his skin had faded and were almost invisible. It was the only point of reference for time she had.

And yet, if they knew where to find the Sullys, why was she still here? They didn’t care for her body. But she was still fed and kept alive.

Until the lights went out.

Chapter Text

Heavy feet fell on a creaking wooden floor. The planks had been eaten away by time, folding and bending in places, leaving large gaps between them. The porch was covered in flaking paint that scattered as the wind below down the road. The handrail creaked and groaned with the movement of the house, but the rusted nails held it firm enough.

The garden, however, was in pristine condition. The flowerbeds were neatly arranged beside the manicured lawn. The bright greens and reds contrasted with the dreary dullness of the school she’d spent her day in.

The two-storey house resembled most parts of the neighbourhood. It had stood there for almost seventy years, and was in dire need of repairs. The roof was barely intact, having been partially blown off in the most recent dust storm, and she hadn’t had the time to go up and fix it just yet.

Most of the other houses on the street were the same. The new high-rise developments, with their fancy monorails and holographic signs, hadn’t yet reached this far out from the centre of the city. The developers bought all the land they could and developed it in the inner zones, cramming as many desperate people as possible into the smallest spaces they were allowed to. They reasoned it saved commuting time.

Truthfully, the people here were just waiting for someone to come along and offer to buy the land, and in many cases, death came before then. Such was the local demographic.

Lonnie plunged her hand into her schoolbag and fumbled for the keys. She moved aside the books, lunchbox and calculator, stopping at the bottom as she felt for her pencil case. She pulled the tube from the bag and opened it, taking out her keys.

It turns out they aren’t needed. The keys twisted in the already unlocked door and pulled it open. They must’ve arrived home early that day then. Lonnie stepped over the threshold and into the musty smelling living room.

An elderly woman comes hobbling out of the kitchen with a large tray in her hands. “How was your day, dear?”

Lonnie swung her bag down by the shoe rack and reached for one of the still steaming treats. “It was alright, Sam.”

The woman gave her a look, pulling the tray away when she reached for another. “Hmm, one of those days then?”

Lonnie ducked her head under the woman’s questioning gaze. Samantha placed the tray on the dining table and pulled off her oven gloves. She pressed her glasses back up her face, “Do you want to talk about it?”

So the woman did know what day it was.

The cookie suddenly tasted bitter on the girl’s tongue. She shook her head.

Sam sighed. She plodded over to Lonnie’s bag and sorted through the various papers and books. She found the one marked homework and handed it and a pen to the girl. “Get this done, dear, then we can play a game tonight. How does that sound?”

Lonnie wordlessly took the book and pen and walked past the home office, where Martin slouched back in his armchair, fast asleep with a book open in his lap. The sight of the old man brought her mood back up, just a little. She turned up the stairs and walked to her room.

The walls of the small space were plastered with tattered posters and trinkets, some gathered when she was young, some given to her through the years. Others were brought with her when she arrived at the house.

Samantha and Martin had taken her in when her mother died; she’d been with them for as long as she could remember, only having flashing glimpses of memory from before they’d found her; a face here and there, the smell of leather and the deep laughter of a man. They were of no relation, but the kindly couple had brought her off the streets and given her the loving home a child needed. With so many kids in the system, the Feds accepted the paperwork without a second glance.

She was infinitely grateful for where she ended up, she knew things could’ve been far worse.

The plastic of her chair groaned when she slammed her body into the seat. As the folder slapped the table’s surface, the papers slid out and spread across the desk. Lonnie sighed and rested her head in her hands, considering the least bad thing to start with.

Her teachers wouldn’t be happy with the speed and lack of effort she completed the work with, but the events of the day played through her head far more than physics did. Her writing was crude and coarse, not that it got much better anyway, but it was legible enough to be marked. She was just glad Martin, with his perfect penmanship, wasn’t standing over her shoulder.

When the ink ran dry and the pen left dull indents of letters in the page, she dropped it and pushed away from the desk. Her chair bumped into the foot of her bed and rattled concerningly. She took the opportunity to turn and flop forwards onto the covers, head buried in the duvet.

From the corner of her view, she glanced towards the photo sitting on her bedside table. It was a small, simple frame, placed by her head when she slept. The colours had faded with time, but the people were no less recognisable. It was the one thing found on her mother’s body.

She saw herself, all pudgy with baby fat, but with the same hazel eyes and blonde hair, albeit less curly at the time. She’d known it was herself the first time she saw it. And the other man, she didn’t have to be reminded who he was.

It was the one-year anniversary of the RDA returning to Earth.

Throughout her younger years, she’d watched the beacon of the ISV’s laser array accelerate the interstellar ships out the solar system and to a distant world. The light shone from the ground and covered the country in a faint red glow for almost six months at a time.

The deceleration of the ships was no less awe-inspiring to the girl. Giant plumes of glowing plasma jettisoned unthinkable amounts of energy to bring them back to Earth. When the world wasn’t lit by the lasers, the night glowed blue from the man-made stars.

But the last time they returned brought news that shook the planet.

Images of her father, both human and Na’vi, were plastered on every possible surface. They called him a terrorist, attacking the peaceful RDA’s operations and killing hundreds of people. That had lasted until recordings of the company slaughtering Na’vi leaked.

Body camera footage from soldiers being impaled with arrows and spears flooded the internet and media, in equal partnership with the photos of the same personnel standing victorious over bullet-ridden bodies of the natives.

A year ago was the first time she heard the words “Toruk Makto”.

Her surrogate parents never tried to hide the truth of her father, where he was, but they didn’t encourage her to seek information out either. To them, she was as good as their daughter, and she too loved them dearly. But she knew they weren’t her blood relatives, so research came next.

Oh, how she hated that photo.

The naïve little smile on her chocolate-covered face as he pressed a kiss to her check. The way he held the camera to immortalise the moment. His signature on the back. She despised it all.

She remembered the officer that took her from the body in the alley. She’d cried and kicked and screamed for the warmth that disappeared from her mother, for the arms that used to wrap around her and utter words of reassurance.

The uniformed man found the photo peeking out of the dead woman’s discarded jacket’s pocket, and decided the little girl needed something to keep them close.

She was so young, not truly understanding that her mother was gone and her father had left. When the couple had first taken her in, she huddled close to them. They were warm and smelt nice. Yet the officer told them of her situation, and they had the task of explaining it to the distraught child.

Her father abandoned her to this fate. He had a choice between money and his daughter, and he chose the coin.

The anger turned to bitterness over the years.

She lashed out at those who grew too close, building walls high enough to touch the sky to keep people out. But like running water eating away at stone, the persistence of her surrogate parents gradually chipped away, until a door was made and she allowed herself to leave that place.

It all came tumbling down when the ships returned.

But she couldn’t bring herself to burn the paper.

She sometimes morbidly wondered what fate had befallen him. Had he contracted some alien disease and died a painful death? Had the natives turned on him? Sometimes, rarely, she wouldn’t wish death for him; she would ask what he was doing at that very moment; sleeping with his alien wife, hunting strange creatures. The melancholic feelings never lasted.

Yet, even after the videos of the RDA’s atrocities leaked, they were still being permitted to travel back to the planet.

Lonnie turned her head to the other side, towards the windowsill. A rectangular white envelope stood propped up against the glass. She frowned, not remembering buying anything online, nor expecting formal letters.

She reached out and grabbed it. The handwriting certainly wasn’t Martin’s, and Sam’s joints had a habit of creaking if she held a pen for too long.

She called down the stairs, “Sam, you didn’t put an envelope in my room, did you?”

“What was that dear?” The woman called from the kitchen.

Lonnie slid onto the creaking landing and down the stairs. Samantha packed away her baking things, covering more surfaces in flour. The elderly woman saw the paper, washed her hands, then took it. She examined the envelope. “This wasn’t me darling. We haven’t received anything today.”

“I found it on my window. Did Martin put it there?”

They moved to the office, where Lonnie gently shook the man. He slept on. She shook him harder, eventually poking him hard in the sternum.

“Christ on a bike, girl. My old heart doesn’t need any more shocks.” His book fell to the floor.

She smiled sheepishly, but gestured to the letter. “Did you put this in my room? Sam said she hasn’t received anything today.”

“I haven’t left the house since yesterday. Been reading this book.” He leant over and picked up the item. “Have you opened it?”

Lonnie shook her head. She thanked him when he passed over a small knife. The seal was carefully cut and the paper removed. She unfolded the page. It was simple, handwritten text; odd for how formal the writing was.

She read aloud.

To Ms. Lonnie Sully

This is General Frances Ardmore of the Resources Development Administration. I’m writing to you with a proposition. Due to your unique parentage, I would like to extend an offer of employment with the RDA.

It is a well-paying position in the primary repatriation force returning to the moon of Pandora. You will be a key asset in reclaiming illegally occupied RDA property and restoring order to the native tribes.

If you wish to accept this offer, the address to go to is written below.

Samantha stared at her, “Absolutely not! Do you have any idea what these people do?” Her voice became shrill at the end.

Lonnie remained silent. She’d seen the videos.

Martin placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. His moustache creased when he spoke, “She’s right, my girl. They do not have your best interests at heart. This is not a good idea.”

She nodded. The paper ripped in her hands. She was careful to not tear the address.

There was no time or date on the letter, so she reasoned they could wait a couple weeks. That period passed with Sam and Martin keeping her unusually close, always checking in, asking her to message them when she reached school. She didn’t miss how they poked their heads in at night, thinking she was asleep.

It was sweet, and she loved them for it, but she needed to know exactly what the offer entailed. She had memorised the address completely, looking it up online, and even scouting past it on her way back from school.

It was a simple office block on the edge of the business district, just where the skyscrapers shrunk down to a manageable size. The monorail’s track made a ring-road around the city, passing very close to the building, so she could still get back from her scouting missions quickly without arousing too much suspicion at home.

The building was mostly glass, but the reflective kind that she couldn’t see through. No-one walked in or out of it in the several collective hours she watched. Nothing sketchy at all, she reasoned.

Every night, she made sure to hug Martin and Sam extra tight before they went to bed, lest something did happen at the meeting. But she felt no fear, only something she resolved to call mild apprehension. But what she did feel was a sense of righteousness; that she would be able to do something to get back at her father.

She didn’t know when the once simmering anger roared to a flame, but she wasn’t about to douse it.

This was the night. Cold and dark, with only a drizzle that pinged off the corrugated metal roof. She supposed it would help mask the sounds of her leaving.

The rucksack was packed tightly with a water bottle and another thick jacket, leaving her keys hanging from the ring inside it. She pulled a beanie tight over her reddening ears and slipped out the door. She was thankful the air was still, for the rain had picked up, and she didn’t want to get frostbite while wringing out her clothes.

Lonnie looked back to the house. She would be back. She had to come back.

Only the odd car passed her as she walked; this late none of the public transport network operated. She didn’t know why the automated systems couldn’t keep running, it would save her the soggy clothes.

She cursed when her phone’s screen flickered and died. She would have to navigate by the way the monorail went. Through the city, the skyscrapers taunted down to her with their enormous size. They blocked the sky from view and encased her in their concrete world. There was no colour, save for the occasional glowing holographic advertisement.

Lonnie quickly turned on the spot when she recognised the smoke rising from an alley. She pulled her beanie lower over her eyes to avoid the people inside. The dull glow of cigarettes was quenched by the rain, but the light still glinted off the eyes of the occupants.

That alley, with those people, was not a place she wished to return to. She kept her head down and walked a little faster.

Only the entrance hall light of the office building was on when she reached the address. She stopped in the darkness outside to gather her thoughts. Was she really doing this? Entertaining the idea of aiding the organisation responsible for the deaths of countless indigenous people on a distant planet? Or was she doing it to spite her father? The one thing that could affect him over trillions of kilometres.

She only realised she had opened the door when she was met with a camouflage-clad woman inside.

The woman had tightly bound blonde hair pulled back into a bun. Her face was wrinkled and scarred, but she didn’t look old. She watched Lonnie from behind a wooden desk where the reception counter should stand.

She smiled to her, though it was not a kind one. Lonnie immediately knew this woman was up there in the RDA.

“I was beginning to wonder if you had rejected my offer.” The woman stood, “I’m General Frances Ardmore, head of the RDA’s affairs on Pandora.” She held out her hand. Lonnie took it and shook warily.

She dropped the hand quickly. “How did you know I was coming now?”

The woman gave her the thin veneer of a smile, “The RDA has many resources at its disposal.” She gestured for her to sit.

Lonnie took the seat as if it would burst into flame at a moment’s notice. She placed her backpack on her lap, in between herself and the woman.

“So, I trust you read my letter. I’m sure you have questions that I will do my best to answer.” The woman had to be a mother for how at ease, yet terrified she made Lonnie feel. It had been a mistake coming here.

Lonnie couldn’t look back to the entrance without it seemingly like she wanted out. But the woman knew this. Yet she could still complete her objective, figuring out what they wanted from her.

Ardmore smirked, “I’ll start from the beginning then. Your father is a significant hinderance to the Administration’s return operation to Pandora. His previous connection with and knowledge of our processes have the potential to be devastating to our cause.” She poured a small cup of water, passing it to Lonnie. She pointedly didn’t drink it.

Lonnie tried to keep her voice level, keeping her hands still to stop the ripples forming in the water, “What about the videos?”

Ardmore’s face soured, “They are… extreme exaggerations of the events that occurred on world. Our efforts to provide education, medicine and habitation to the natives were not appreciated by their kind. They cost us a lot of good men and women. Our return mission seeks to regain control of our previous outpost and mines to restart operations.”

The prevalence of advertisements on the trip to and from school, hell, the ads that were plastered all over every possible piece of vertical space, had made her rather good at cutting through to the meat of an exchange. Sometimes they were financial, others offered services. Most were predatory attempts to tether people to something, with little hope of untangling themselves.

“We have been authorised to use whatever force is necessary to ensure the repatriation of our assets. However, we fully intend on forming a treaty with the native tribes. They get their part of the planet, we get ours.” Ardmore pushed a document across the table. “Your relation to Jake Sully can provide us with the information we need to ensure a smooth transition.” She clicked a pen and held it out.

The text on the page was too small to read in her passing glance. “I haven’t seen my dad in thirteen years. I was three when he left. How do you possibly think I could help?”

“Your father is not an easy person to reason with. I suspect he will be more willing to listen to you.”

“What’s in this for me?” She pulled at the edges of her nails below the desk.

Eyes are windows to the soul, and Lonnie watched Ardmore’s flicker with crumbling patience. The woman kept her voice level as much as she could, “As the letter stated, this is a well-compensated position. You will start with a base pay, then, depending on the abilities you display, will be paid an additional sum. I’m not a pencil-pusher, Miss Sully, but I understand the value you present. And of course, your parents will be taken care of too. What were their names, Sam and Martin?”

Lonnie stood abruptly, knocking over the chair. “No, I can’t help you with this.” She grabbed her bag and backed away.

The general flicked her hand by her side. “That’s very unfortunate. I hope you reconsider.”

Lonnie shuffled further back. She gripped her bag in front, as if it was a shield. Ardmore stood from her place and watched her move towards the door. Lonnie saw another subtle flicking hand gesture the woman performed.

Her back bumped into something, and a sharp pain jolted through her shoulder.

Chapter Text

He ducked beneath the water when his Tsurak ran out of altitude. The creature flicked its body through the water with him on its back. It leapt back into the air once again and spread its wide pectoral fins. The webbed surfaces expanded, and riding the beast became very similar to his beloved Ikran.

The scope of the rifle whirred when it zoomed in again. He focussed on a pile of rocks where the sea wall intersected with the land. The nooks and crannies were quickly examined, before the Tsurak again dived back down.

Onto the next hiding spot.

Always, when he rose, he looked for anything blue. Anything living that moved caught his eagle eyes and brought about a closer inspection.

The rapid beating of his heart when he thought he found her still thumped through his ears. Yet the Yerik that sprinted to the safety of the bushes was not his daughter.

The wind blew rivulets of water from his skin and chilled his already frigid insides. The only warmth provided to him was the barrel of his gun when he fired a test shot. The bullet pinged off the rock and disappeared.

He couldn’t lose her, not again. He would walk to the ends of the world to find her.

The sun was hidden behind the clouds when he made landfall on the back of the island. The reef extended almost the entire way around, but was enclosed by the giant line of twisted and contorted stone that protected the village.

Waves of light and subsequent darkness further warmed his skin, then sucked the heat away.

He screamed out, and his finger squeezed the all too familiar handle and trigger of the weapon. Lead spewed from the muzzle into the rock wall that stared him down. Only the click of the empty magazine released his grip.

Searing spent cases pinged down upon his feet, but he neglected the red pockmarks they created.

Someone had undoubtably heard his gunshots and would be on their way to investigate.

It had been almost two weeks since he’d last seen his daughter.

The limbs were not her own; the toes that fell on the cold floor, the arms that swung by her sides, the tail that remained low and rigid by the legs that strode through the halls.

Flanked on either side by Recombinant soldiers, she walked from one laboratory to another, from one machine to the next. Each took another part of her completely, or scrambled it beyond recognition.

Muscles contracted and released in a way that was not commanded consciously. The sinews within her body pulled bones and skin around, through the darkest alleys and trails of her mind. What was left of it.

No pain met her brain from the scarred tissue of her skin; all the receptors had been burnt away.

But her eyes, they saw everything. Everything the RDA did to her, the tests and blabbering scientists that made no noise, the flash of arcing electricity from their batons.

And her mind felt the fear. From the back of her head, Lonnie recoiled and screamed. Her instincts meant nothing here, her reflexes were dulled and reprogrammed to follow the orders of the soldiers around her. Her need for survival thrashed and cried, to run and fight and cower. But none of that happened.

She kept walking into the next machine, just like she was told to.

Neteyam hiked Tuk further up his back to stop the young girl strangling him as she slipped down. Her head rested lightly on his shoulder as she closed her eyes to rest them after the day’s activities. He was eternally thankful he was allowed to go out with his sister without a chaperone.

He’d spent the last week with her nearly constantly. It helped keep both their minds off Lonnie.

The tide pools didn’t have Tuk as enthusiastic as they normally did. He tried to take her through the waters and look for shells to add to some jewellery. She picked up one specimen, then placed it back onto the sand. Another came up next, where she closely inspected it, looking for just the right shine and shape.

Neteyam asked her what the shells were for, “Are you making a new bracelet?”

She smiled brightly at him, “I’m making it for Lonnie when she gets back. She only has that band she made with dad, so I wanted to give her another.”

His heart broke, almost dropping the small pile of trinkets she had given him to carry. He knelt slowly in the shallows, pulling Tuk up by the shoulders to face him. She initially resisted him, wanting to keep searching, but she eventually met his gaze. “Tuk-Tuk, Lonnie might not be coming back. They’ve been searching for her since she disappeared.”

He didn’t want to believe the words as he said them, but the nature of her disappearance forced him to reconcile with the possibility. She hadn’t left any clue of where she went. It liquified his fear and poured it red-hot down his throat.

He kept it together for his siblings and no-one else. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could manage it.

“No, she’s coming back. Dad’s looking for her and he always finds what he’s looking for.” Neteyam watched his sister’s ears droop ever so slightly. She kept up the bright smile.

The notion that their father was all-powerful had long since vanished from his mind.

“Tuk, she doesn’t know this place, but the Metkayina do. If they haven’t found her, then I don’t think-“

“No, she’s coming back.” Tuk quickly turned back to her shell hunting.

“Sister, we have to consider-“

“NO SHE’S COMING BACK!” Tuk threw the shell at him. It pinged harmlessly off his chest, not stopping him as he scooped her into his arms. She sobbed heavily on his shoulder, “She has to come back.”

They made their way back to the Marui as the sun began to set. Their parents were still out on another search with a contingency of Metkayina warriors, and Kiri and Lo’ak lay asleep in each other’s embrace on their mats.

“Bring ‘er up.”

The spinning green light slowed to a stop. The whirring subsided, and for a moment she felt calm. Her eyes moved to big, blue and ugly pressing his face into her view. The command to grimace was instinctual when his foul breath entered her nose. The most surprising part was that she could actually feel the corners of her lips turn down. Gone was the disconnect between instructions and the twitching of muscles.

Quaritch smirked at her astounded face. He watched the edges of her nose flare outwards with a sour inhale before he stepped back from the plank. “Glad you could join us, Miss Lonnie. I trust you’ve enjoyed your stay?”

The silence within herself left her reeling. She could feel her tongue resting in her mouth, dry and swollen, but still usable, though her throat croaked as she spoke, “What do you want from me?” She wanted to rip the skin from his satisfied face.

“Oh, I thought that was explained to you,” He snarled. “That bit of paper signed you away to us, my girl. You’re the daughter of Jake Sully, that makes you incredibly valuable.” He raised an eyebrow, “But I think you knew that. The things you hear, what they tell you to do, you know exactly what they’re for. It’s real simple, kid, you’re our assassin.”

Her face slackened.

“Oh yes, who do you think suggested it to the cake-eaters? These science pukes already had the tech, I just gave them a project to apply it to. Seems to be working pretty well. You carried a hell of a lot of resentment and anger for someone so young.” He laughed and rose from his wheeled stool and pulled a small rectangle from his vest pocket. “This little thing here has all of that, everything from before, all arranged in a nice little package. Clever thing by the lab-coats, keeping this backup, makes it easier to… uh… persuade the subject.”

A thin, shiny drive slid from its metal enclosure. The man held it to the light, watching the reflection concentrate onto the nearby wall. “Your memories, Miss Lonnie, are something I presume you don’t want to risk losing. Not again.”

Fire lit in her heart and spread through every vessel until it almost burst through the surface. It destroyed the forest it ran through, sending creatures fleeing away from their inevitable incineration.

“Oh, none of that darlin’,” He turned to the side. Behind him, by the wall of the laboratory, four other Recombinants aimed their weapons at her, each flanked by another pair of human soldiers.

She pulled at the bindings. Enormous straps of metal and leather held her ankles and wrists down, thick bands over her stomach and forehead grew thicker and tighter the more she struggled.

“Just some extra motivation,” He snarled, then turned to someone out of her view. “Put ‘er back under!”

“What?! No, please no!”

She plunged back below the surface.

Neytiri dared not move from her place by the cookfire. She carefully placed prepared vegetables and salted meats into a large enamel cauldron. It had been carved from the enormous tooth of a sea creature she never wished to meet. The broth bubbled gently and filled the pod with a delectable smell.

Tuk’s head lulled to the side against her thigh, letting out a relaxed sigh. Her youngest had slumped over with exhaustion whilst preparing the ingredients. Neytiri smiled softly, it was the first time in as long as she could remember that things had felt normal, just her family milling around as life happened.

She turned her head around as much as she could when Kiri grunted in frustration behind her. “What is it, Ma Kiri?”

The girl dropped the long fibres onto the floor. Whatever she was making was not agreeing with the pattern she wanted. Kiri slumped haphazardly against the Marui wall and looked to the ceiling. The words were fumbled by her mouth, but eventually emerged, “You and dad have been arguing. We’ve all noticed it.”

The harsh whispers, distant shouts and requests to speak to one-another outside the Marui hadn’t slipped the watchful eyes of the children. From what they could piece together, their mother was angry at Jake for the distance he placed between himself and the family.

Neytiri looked down to the cauldron again. “Those are private matters, daughter. It is not something you are a part of,” She hissed to the opposite wall.

Kiri propped herself up and glared to the back of the woman’s head. “We are a part of it. She is as good as our sister too, do you think we aren’t eating ourselves with worry? He’s our father, and he does what he must to find her. We all are.”

Neytiri slowed her movement when Tuktirey flinched in her sleep. “Yes, he is your father. And he is not here for his family.”

“So what, you want him to just abandon looking for Lonnie? Lo’ak and Neteyam are out there with him right now and are just as committed to finding her as he is. Why aren’t you?”

“Someone must stay here to keep this family together. Your father will not tear us apart on this futile search!” Neytiri covered her mouth with her hand. Her eyes widened and looked at Kiri’s stunned face.

The girl quickly narrowed her gaze. Her voice was barely a whisper, “So you think Lonnie isn’t worth the effort? You think she’s dead and we should just accept it?”

“No, Kiri, that is not what I meant. I…“

They stood at an impasse, Kiri leaning forwards with teeth barred, Neytiri’s ears flat against her head and nostrils flared. Kiri was close enough to her mother to see the glint of the starlight bouncing off the water in her eyes.

She reached down and gently moved a thin braid out of Tuk’s sleeping face. She spoke softly, “You didn’t accept her from the beginning.”

Neytiri recoiled back. “No, I- I want to accept her as one of my own. Like I did with you. You are my daughter Kiri, and I want her to be too.”

Kiri leant forwards again and placed her hands firmly on her mother’s shoulders. She implored her, “Then don’t give up on Lonnie.”

Jake sat on the floor of the Marui, with the box containing his rifle parts set out as a workbench. The rifle in question was being aggressively disassembled and cleaned, then put back together. He then decided it was still too dirty and took it apart again.

Lo’ak watched him do that a total of three times, every one getting more agitated. His father scrubbed the metal until the paint almost flaked off.

The laptop’s keyboard he typed on was too small for his fingers, but the map had to be updated. Another searched location and still no sign of Lonnie.

He looked to his father. The man had developed a permanent crease in his brow over the past weeks. Well, a deeper one than Lo’ak was used to seeing.

As much as he enjoyed being with his father and seeing him proud of the work he was doing, this was not the way he wished for that to happen. Jake was clearly despairing with the lack of progress in the search, but he’d made it clear that he was thankful for his sons’ help. Both boys, him and Neteyam, had worked with the Taronyu. They’d flown on the backs of their Ikran over the islands and archipelagos, their house arrest temporarily forgotten.

Lo’ak was afraid for how long it would be before Tonowari decided it wasn’t worth the resources and ordered them all back to the pod. The willingness of the clan to help would only extend so far.

The search party had been called off for the day as the rain started to pour. It came down so heavily that many villagers were worried about the integrity of their pods against the onslaught of water. Neteyam was helping several returning warriors tie their canoes to the docks in the rocky waves. Neytiri was with Tuk in Ronal’s pod, preparing medicines for the injuries the storm would inevitably bring. And Lo’ak had no idea where his other sister was. He just hoped she was accompanied by a Metkayina chaperone, lest Tonowari decide now was the end of his generosity.

Lo’ak closed the lid of the laptop gently as to not break the already cracked screen. He rested it in his lap and laid his head against the pod’s wall.

A quick nap wouldn’t hurt anyone.

He jolted awake sometime later when a clap of thunder burst onto his eardrums, knocking the laptop open onto the floor. He sighed and picked it up, checking the casing for any more cracks.

His father continued his frantic cleaning, but the rifle lay mostly assembled now, having been scrubbed within an inch of its life. The man didn’t seem to react when another clap rocked the village.

Lo’ak resigned himself to not getting any more sleep, so he booted the device up again and took another look over the map. He had spent so long pouring over every detail to help coordinate the search that the layout had embedded itself in his head.

He flinched when Neteyam almost tripped over him. His brother hurtled through the entrance from the walkways, dripping with water and panting heavily. Neteyam’s eyes flicked side to side on his slacken face. He bowled into Jake and scrambled for his feet. His arms flailed out and latched onto the man.

“Dad, dad, you have to come see this! Quickly!” He almost made it out the door when he collided with the enormous form of Tonowari.

The Olo’eyktan’s face was no more calm than Neteyam’s. He strode over to Jake and pulled the man to his feet urgently. He was followed into the pod by another Metkayina warrior. Lo’ak recognised her, Feeya.

The woman brandished a thin metal tube with a fletching at one end. Jake hurried to his feet and grabbed the object, examining its every inch. It was cold and wet, and whatever had been in it had long since been used. Coated on the needle tip was a flaking layer of blood.

“Jakesully, this is Feeya. She found this item at the end of her and your son’s patrol of the outer islands.” Tonowari gestured to the warrior.

“I recognised it from the supply caches we picked up in our raids. Norm said they’re used for pacifying animals.” Neteyam gestured to the empty glass cylinder in the centre of the dart, “It’s a tranquiliser. Knocks you out cold.”

Jake stood stone-still. The thought he’d been suppressing for as long as he could rose to the forefront of his mind; the RDA had his daughter. He had hoped and prayed that she was somehow ok and just lost on a distant island, yet he knew he was naïve for thinking that.

“Woah dad look!” Lo’ak held the laptop up to the group.

Jake, Tonowari, Neteyam and Feeya all gasped at the screen. The caller ID showed the logo of the RDA, and the speaker played the chime of an incoming call. The answer button glinted enticingly on the screen.

Jake slid along the floor to Lo’ak, grabbing the device and quickly accepting it. The video took a second to form, static gradually clearing until an image was visible.

The hulking form of Miles Quaritch looked back through to them. The tip of his incisor peaked through the ghastly smile he wore. The sides of his head were shaved close to his skin, distinctly blue. The man had stripes all around his shoulders and head, where cat-like ears jutted from his skull.

And next to the armoured man was the tense body, scarred skin, and dull eyes of his daughter.

Chapter Text

It was eery, watching her through the clear glass door. She just sat there, unmoving on the floor. Her back was propped up against the wall with legs unfolded and splayed in front of her. Her chest rose and fell far slower than normal, and even her eyes didn’t move or react to his movement from the other side of the barrier.

He pressed his masked face up against the glass, looking through to the girl he wished he could spend more time with, to help her escape from this place of harm. But Spider possessed no such abilities.

He practised the fighting style of the Omatikaya, as well as training with Jake and his marine combat skills, but he stood no chance against armed guards and the Recombinants while lugging a brainwashed girl with him. If he had one at all, his sphere of influence extended about as far as his arms reached.

Her descent from reality and metamorphosis into what she was now woke him at night. He’d find himself in cold sweats in his bunk, unable to recapture sleep. It evaded him ‘till the morning, when he’d traipse about the day’s tasks like a zombie.

He kept it together for as long as he could when her limbs no longer functioned as they should; when she couldn’t bring food to her own mouth or care for the wound on her tail. He cried tears of anguish for the girl he didn’t know, but had grown to care for in the weeks since her arrival.

He initially toyed with the idea of helping her escape, but as their grip on her mind grew stronger, his words held no weight. He too had long since accepted his own captivity.

Spider would sit by the door for as long as he was allowed and talk to her. He’d tell her of his adventures through the forests, his life with the Sullys and the scientists who were so much kinder than the ones in that facility, the grandeur of the Hallelujah Mountains that floated above their heads and the secrets they held amongst their little-explored passages.

She never touched any of the food he brought her, not until she was explicitly told to. Quaritch would come when he felt like letting her eat, sneering through the door to pick up the gelatinous mush.

Spider hissed at the man whenever he saw him. Any feelings he felt for him had instantly vanished when he saw Lonnie’s broken form that first day.

In the time Spider spent with the Recombinants he had lost sight of what the man had done, who he was. He had let the small things cloud his judgement; his need for affection blocked out any consideration of if Quaritch had actually changed his ways with his new body.

He stared helplessly through the glass at Lonnie. His mask fogged with his breath; the air in this block was not for humans, it was where the RDA kept their Na’vi prisoners. The slap of boots and rustling and clicking of an ammo vest made its way down the hall to where he stood.

It took all his might to not look at Miles Quaritch when the man lowered his head beside Spider’s, looking through the glass too.

“You’re a monster, you know that?” Spider whispered. If it weren’t for the swivelling ears, Quaritch wouldn’t’ve heard it.

The man frowned, “I’ve been called worse.”

They returned to watching the girl.

“I know she’s told you things, and I know you’ve shared information with her. Now I’d like you to tell me.” Quaritch straightened upright.

Spider scoffed, “It’s nothing you haven’t already pulled out of her head. You know exactly where Jake is. Why don’t you level the place?” He kept his voice as flat as he could, as if he was discussing the weather.

Quaritch considered it for a moment, “It’s something Selfridge taught me a long time ago. The only thing shareholders hate more than bad PR is a bad quarterly statement. Now getting rid of Sully would fix the hit to the bottom line, but wiping out an entire village? That ain’t my style. Whip up a whole storm our guys would have to clean up.”

“You make it sound like I’m a part of this.” Spider turned to face him, “So what, you send her out to kill Jake, one of the most experienced fighters on the planet? And then what?”

“That’s between me and the suits, kid. Nothing to fret yourself over.” Quaritch chuckled, “I’ve already learnt to not underestimate him, or his crazy wife.”

They stood in silence. Spider shifted uncomfortably next to the towering body, his mask felt too loose, but any tighter and the straps would be splitting his skull. Quaritch, however, stood with the utmost calm.

“You know I’ll get out of here at some point?”

The Recom laughed again, “Oh, I don’t doubt that. Just remember what I said about that arse-whooping.”

Spider scowled at his reflection.

The silence was deafening in the pod. The broadcast ended with an ultimatum, that Jake was to turn himself in for the sake of his daughter.

Tonowari growled at the blank screen. The image of the man that was displayed bore such a resemblance to the one that led the forces they fought against in the Great Battle. It drew violent feelings to resurface, the ones he felt at the time of the conflict.

He saw the way the girl stood stock still, shoulders unnaturally pulled back, eyes sunken and dull and cheek bones showing through the skin. For how slowly she was breathing he thought she could’ve been frozen in time.

The chief looked down to where Toruk Makto sat with the device. The other man hadn’t moved since the video ceased, and Tonowari was scared that rousing him may bring about a heart attack. At that moment, his contempt for the man bringing the girl to his village was forgotten. This was no malicious plan to harm his people, it was just a father wanting to care for his child.

He could not offer the reassuring words required.

It was Neytiri who broke the silence.

“If they know we are here then we must leave.” The woman turned to Tonowari.

He thought for a moment, “No, you mustn’t go. If you do, they will still come here. My people will keep you safe.” His eyes lit with a protective fire for the people from the forest.

Feeya dipped her head in agreement, “There is strength in numbers.” The Metkayina Taronyu grasped her spear tightly.

Neytiri turned back to her mate. “Ma Jake, there is nothing we can do from here. If they truly wish to use her, as they say, then we must work to remove these voices from her mind. We cannot do that if you give in to their demands.” She crouched beside him and pulled his body to face her. It took him a second for his eyes to lose focus on the screen.

Neteyam stood beside his mother. His voice was low when he spoke, “Mum’s right. We can only help if they send Lonnie out. It’s the only way we could try to break their programming.” He looked back to the laptop. “As much as it sucks, we have to play into their hand if we ever want to see her again.”

Jake inhaled deeply, closing his eyes and letting the cool salty air infiltrate his sinuses. “Ok, but what about those who can’t fight? Brother, you shouldn’t risk your people for my mistake.” Jake gestured to the chief.

Tonowari nodded gravely. “Those who cannot fight will be moved to a safe island; the children and the elderly. I shall ask my mate to accompany them.”

Neteyam sat beside Lo’ak and allowed their mother to embrace them both. Jake closed the laptop and set about planning with Tonowari. It would be no small undertaking to defend the village when the RDA knew exactly where to send their new assassin.

The sound of a horn rolled through the village, announcing an arrival. The Sullys looked up when the joyful yips of villagers joined the blast. People stampeded along the walkways, past the Omatikaya family’s pod, jumping into the water, paddling canoes and calling for Ilu.

Jake glanced back to Neytiri, who met his confused gaze, before rising to exit into the sunlight. He watched almost every villager pouring into the water, or pulling others with them. Mothers carried babies in slings around their chests as they rode slowly out. Fathers lifted small children onto their Tsuraks, smiling brightly when the youngsters giggled and laughed. Partners rode side by side away from the shore.

Everyone was headed to the one break in the reef’s boundary wall. Waves crashed over the rock and trickled into the pools that decorated the inner terraces. Fine mist sprayed into the air, creating a faint rainbow across the scene.

And through the gap came a hoard of enormous creatures, breaching the water and swimming through the deep.

The Tulkun had returned.

The beings had giant tails that flicked up into the air and splashed back down, sensor crests that protruded from the tops of their heads peaking above the surface. Even from the land, Jake could hear the pings of echolocation that guided them through the reef.

“Everybody, our brothers and sisters have returned!” Jake saw Lo’ak perk up at the sound of Tsireya’s voice. “Come to the reef!”

More whoops filled the air as other villagers heard the second call. Another round of feet pounded past the pod, with one pair stopping at the entrance. Tsireya beamed at the Sullys as she bounced around on the walkway.

“Come, you must meet them! My father said you can.” Lo’ak was up and out almost immediately, followed closely by Tuk. The duo sprinted after the Metkayina girl and jumped onto an Ilu, Tuk sitting in front of her brother.

Kiri and Neteyam glanced at their parents. The adults eyed each other for a moment before Neytiri dipped her head in permission. The older siblings dropped their work and too left the pod hastily. The water splashed up from where they entered.

Neytiri laid her knife down on the cutting board and watched her mate.

It was a hard stare she gave him.

Jake looked up at her from his laptop. The plan for where to lure Lonnie required a perfect location, and the Chief’s scouts had recommended several places. It had consumed him for the past few days. He almost felt cowed under the weight of her watch.

“What?” Neytiri gave an annoyed sigh at his obliviousness.

She gently took the laptop from him and closed it, setting it aside. Her mouth set into a thin line, “You know you cannot spend the rest of your days in here. You must leave and enjoy what has been given to you.”

Jake tried to pry the device back open. “I can do that when Lonnie is back.”

“Yes, we must continue to work for her. But you can’t help anyone if there is nothing left in here.” Neytiri pressed her palm to his forehead. “Perhaps children are wise in this matter. They know that time must be taken away from the task, to come back with a fresh mind. What do the Sky People say, ‘You’re no use dead’?”

Jake gave his wife a small smile when she remembered the English saying. He nodded his acquiescence, “Ok, I suppose we could join them. Give us a clean slate to think off of.”

He knew the guilt would eat at him the whole time he was away from his maps and scenario lists, but Jake also hadn’t moved any closer to a finalised plan in almost a day, so as much as he didn’t like the feeling in his stomach, he allowed Neytiri to pull him from the pod and onto his Tsurak.

It wasn’t long before they found Kiri and Tuk holding onto the fin of a young Tulkun. Tsireya swum beside the girls with her Spirit Sister. The Tulkun pirouetted in the water and propelled Tuk into the air with her fin. The young girl squealed with glee and plunged back into the water right beside her parents.

Neytiri fished Tuk up onto the mount and placed a big kiss on her cheek, the child squirming happily under the affection. Jake directed the Tsurak back to Tsireya and Kiri and deposited Tuk with them. He couldn’t help but smile at Tsireya for taking the kids out away from his funk.

For a moment, things felt normal.

Spider hastily smeared the sticky goo over the crack in his mask. Air stopped hissing through the broken glass as soon as the substance hardened into a thin line across the centre of his view. His arms and chest sported more scratches than he had hoped for, but then again, jumping unseen from a moving ship under the cover of darkness into waters of unknown depth may not have been the smartest getaway method.

Yet as soon as he heard they were nearing the location of the Sullys, he knew he had to escape, to warn them of the incoming threat.

He wanted desperately to see Lonnie one more time before leaving, but the Recom guards had vetoed his visitation rights. Zdinarsk had snarled at the human boy when he got too close to the holding cell door. Spider never liked that woman.

The current buffeted him against a reef until water completely filled his mask and he was forced to surface. He just prayed that the Sea Dragon had flown far enough away to not spot him in the water.

Thankfully, he recognised the plant the Omatikaya used as glue, and sent another prayer to Eywa for making these leaves grow in the tropics too. Spider sucked in a quick breath before pulling the mask off his face to empty the water. He covered the crack with his hand as much as he could whilst kneading the sap of the fronds into glue.

Another quick breath was taken when he removed his hand to patch the break, and it was only then he could fully take stock of his surroundings.

Truthfully, he had no idea which island in the archipelago he found himself on. A quick glance at the map in the bridge was the last chance he had to look at his location before he jumped from the vessel.

It almost felt too easy, like Quaritch was expecting him to flee. And after the man had kept him so close following his kidnapping, Spider second guessed whether swapping his mask out for another random one would’ve been a good idea. It wasn’t the original one Quaritch had said had a tracker in it, but he couldn’t be too sure.

Anyway, what did it matter? They already knew where the Sullys were. They were sailing that way to unleash Lonnie.

He shivered again at the thought of what they’d done to her.

Spider prowled slowly through the undergrowth, listening for sounds that would indicate a large predator or smaller animals he may be able to hunt. Once on the other side of the island, and sure that he wasn’t going to get attacked while he slept, he went back down to the shallows.

During his time with the RDA he had managed to sneak a couple looks at an index tablet, and found several types of shell that would make a sharp axe blade. Luckily, these weren’t hard to find, and he soon had a collection to choose from.

The bark of the trees along the water’s edge came away from the trunks in long fibrous strands that he quickly twisted into a coarse twine. Another handful of the plant glue stuck his selected shell to a thick short stick, and Spider wound the fibre around it to finish binding them together whilst the glue set.

He leant back on the sand, admiring his handiwork. The axe was crude, and it wouldn’t hold up long in a fight, but it would work long enough to keep him alive whilst he searched for a nearby settlement to take him to Awa’atlu.

Slowly the events of the night caught up with him, and he allowed his eyes to close, body heated by the still warm sand.

“The boy is human, but he wears the clothes of the Forest People. We must tell the Olo’eyktan of this.”

“Take his weapon. I will stay here with him.”

Spider felt the heat and light of the sun on his skin, the same light that lit the inside of his eyelids a bright red. He scrunched them tight then blinked rapidly to the world’s morning. Standing before him, facing each other in conversation, were two teal skinned Na’vi with limbs and tails like he had never seen before.

Slowly, he pulled his feet back and rose with axe in hand.

The duo turned to his movement and hissed. They spread their feet in fighting stances and levelled their spears at the boy. Spider immediately dropped his weapon and put his hands up beside his head.

“Brother, Sister, I am not here to harm you. I just wish to know where Awa’atlu is.” Spider picked up on the slight adjustment of their hands on their spears when he spoke Na’vi.

The one on the left snarled with his incisors showing, “Why are you here boy? Who are you?”

Spider kept his hands beside his head, “My name is Spider Socorro. I’m from the Omatikaya tribe. I was captured by the Sky People and now I’m looking for my friends in Awa’atlu. Please, take me there.”

The other one, a woman with tattoos covering the side of her chest and face, eyed the jewellery hanging from his loincloth and the faded blue lines that smudged across his skin. She stopped when she saw his rebreather unit encased in a sling of Yerik leather. She lifted her spear when she realised he spoke Na’vi flawlessly. She turned to her partner, “Ok, we will take you to Tonowari, as a guest.”

Spider noted she didn’t say prisoner.

Riding a Tsurak with the warriors wasn’t unlike riding an Ikran with Kiri, only, instead of mild turbulence or a gust of wind here and there, there were enormous waves that they leapt over the tops of and dove back below the surface.

He found himself losing feeling in his fingers as they gripped the saddle, the salt forming a thin crispy layer over his tanning skin. He would hold his breath every time they dropped down, but the water never met his face through the air his mask provided.

Slowly but surely, the activity of a village came into view, with its outermost patrols and fishermen, followed by foragers and cultivators working in the pools of the gigantic rock wall that surrounded the village. Next, he spotted young children playing in the shallows close to the pods and stretched walkways that made up the village.

Finally, he felt truly free from the RDA.

A multitude of eyes lay upon his skin when the warriors directed him to climb into the village. He pulled his shoulders back and kept his chin up in this new place. It felt less foreign than the Sky Peoples’ lab did.

The Reef People did not resemble the Na’vi he was so used to seeing, but they clearly shared a similar lifestyle with the Omatikaya; the way they weaved their clothes, braided their hair, and worked in the community.

The two warriors brought him through to the largest pod in the vicinity, one with a spider-web of paths leading from it. It was definitely a place of meeting, or somewhere people frequented.

They told Spider to wait while one of them left to get the Olo’eyktan. He positioned himself on a raised platform in the centre, enjoying being able to flex his toes without cold water between them. More villagers passed by to conspicuously get a glimpse of the unannounced newcomer. He waved at the several children who jumped up excitedly when they saw him; their faces smiled with curiosity at the Sky Person in Na’vi clothing.

“Spider?” He turned when he heard his name.

And standing behind him, with a basket on her hip and sand in her hair, was Kiri.

“Kiri!” Spider leapt to his feet and sprinted towards the girl. She met him halfway and they crashed together in a tight embrace.

She pressed him close to her chest, “I thought I would never see you again, Skxawng.” Suddenly, he felt himself get violently ripped away from her. Kiri held him at arm’s length. She scanned up and down his body, looking at the scrapes and bruises littering his skin. “Come, I will help you with these.”

He raised a hand for her to wait. “Good to see you too,” He gestured with his fingers towards his forehead. “But I need to speak with the Chief first. It’s about Lonnie.”

Chapter Text

“SPIDER!” Tuktirey sprinted at full speed through the pod to where the boy stood. By the time he had turned to the call, the girl had plastered herself over him, legs and arms tightly wrapping his body, and knocking them both to the floor.

“Tuk!” Kiri called out, going to pull her sister from the poor boy.

The young girl resisted Kiri. She nuzzled her head under Spider’s chin and squeezed him tighter, promising herself to never let him go again.

Spider chuckled, “Good to see you too. But do you think you could let me-“ Tuk tightened her arms, “Breathe!” She mumbled apologetically and loosened her grip. Spider rubbed the blossoming bruise on the back of his head when he sat up, a pile of Tuk still clinging to him. A wave of melancholy hit him when he realised how much she had grown. He rubbed the back of her head gently and looked up to Kiri. “I think someone’s happy to see me here.”

Kiri rolled her eyes, then reached down to help him up. Tuk huffed at the movement, but let her feet drop to the floor, though she didn’t release Spider. They all stood to face Tonowari’s faint smile. The man looked at them fondly, then thanked the warriors that brought Spider to the village.

“It is good that you are safe, boy. Your friends here have been very worried for you.” He gestured to Kiri and Tuk before continuing, “But I am sure you come here with news too?”

Just as Spider went to speak, another group ran into the pod. Jake, Neytiri, Neteyam and Lo’ak had been summoned urgently to the Olo’eyktan’s meeting Marui by one of Tonowari’s advisors. The family had dropped their dinner preparations and accompanied their escorts to the centre of the village.

The whole, albeit short, distance, Jake felt his blood pound in anticipation of what news they might receive. When they crossed the threshold of the Marui, Spider wasn’t what he was so hoping for, but he let himself untense at the sight of the boy, now safe.

“Bro!” He heard both his sons shout. He watched them run to Spider and tackle him to the ground again. Kiri scoffed, reprimanding them and Tuk for not watching out for his injuries. Spider shrugged it off, grateful that they were happy for his return.

Jake waited for his kids to lean away from their friend to kneel down next to the boy and give him another once over; no doubt Kiri had already done the same thing. “Hey, kid, you alright?” His fatherly instincts told him that of course he wouldn’t be okay after such a long time with the RDA, but another part of him wanted the boy to say it was nothing. It would be one less thing to worry about.

He scolded himself for thinking that.

“Yeah, never been better.”

Kiri lightly knocked Spider’s shoulder. “Don’t think what happened to you was acceptable.” A hiss made its way from her throat at the memory of the gunshots following Spider’s disappearance. She flicked her eyes up to her father, “But you’re here now. Thank the Great Mother.”

She knelt on the ground and gave Spider another hug. His chin rested against her shoulder, enjoying the soothing feeling of her hands pressed against his back. He leant his head closer to hers and breathed in deeply. It had been too long since he had enjoyed the smells of the Sullys.

When he opened his eyes, Neytiri stood in front of his gaze. She met his watch and nodded once, then moved over to her husband. To Spider, that was enough to make him smile.

Tonowari was an imposing form in the Marui, but he had introduced himself to Spider kindly when Kiri explained who he was. The Omatikaya girl had to stop hugging Spider for long enough to answer the chief, Tonowari raising an eyebrow at the scene.

Now, he cleared his throat and planted his spear on the floor. “I believe the boy was about to speak.”

Spider glanced up at the assembled adults, suddenly realising he and Kiri had a rather large audience. He brushed his knees off, careful to avoid the scabbing cuts and bruises, and stood to face Jake.

“I don’t know how to tell you this, sir, but the RDA has your daughter.” He pulled his shoulders back and kept his chin up; small things he learnt growing up to boost his confidence.

“You’ve met Lonnie?” As much as Jake was hoping to hear this exact news, it still sent a shock from his brain to his body at the confirmation. His eyes dilated and he watched in surprise as the others recoiled slightly too.

Spider stared for a moment, then nodded his head gravely. “I met her when they first brought her to Bridgehead. Her tail was cut and infected. It needed treating, so I stole a medkit and helped her.” The corners of his eyes drooped at the thought of how helpless and pitiful she had seemed, pressed against the cold floor to relieve the burning heat in her limbs.

He held the hand Kiri gently placed on his shoulder. Her eyes softened, bringing him back to when they would play in the streams of the forest, before the return of the humans. Tuk wrapped her arms around him again. She closed her eyes and pressed her head to his arm.

Spider tried to control the wobble in his voice, “I helped her when the science guys put her in a machine that wiped her mind. They chipped away at her, bit by bit, taking whatever information they could.” He looked to the floor. “At first, she would scream, I could hear it all the way from my bunk. Then she started forgetting that she had left the cell. I visited her as often as I could, and she recognised me, but almost every time she had forgotten my name. By the time I escaped, I don’t think she knew her own.”

It had taken a mind of steel to continue talking to Lonnie. She was petrified of what was happening to her, and he had taken it upon himself to try to preserve as much of her as he could, telling her the stories she had told him days prior.

She never seemed to remember them either.

“I can still hear their batons.” The firm pressure of Jake’s hand over Spider’s chest grounded him, at least to an extent.

The outer corner of the man’s eyes turned down. The enormous hand was almost big enough to grip Spider’s chest, but he kept the pressure firm and reassuring. “You did all that you could, Spider.”

“But I could’ve done more. I could’ve-“ Spider sputtered.

He was cut out by Lo’ak’s sharp slap to his shoulder. “Don’t beat yourself up, bro. You were just as much a prisoner as she is.”

The pod fell silent. They stood, side by side, with the impossible task of putting themselves in Spider’s or Lonnie’s place.

It was the hissing breaths coming from the human boy’s mask that brought Kiri back to the present.

“Come, Monkey Boy, I think we have another mask you can use.” She began to grab his hand to pull him from the pod, but Tonowari placed his spear in their way.

They watched the chief stare at the ground. Kiri could see the muscles in his forehead twitch beneath the crinkled skin as he thought.

Finally, Tonowari spoke, “What of their movements now?”

Spider hesitated. He scolded himself for not getting a closer look at the course plotted on the ship’s navigation display. By the time the Recoms had set out a specific destination, he was well into planning his escape.

“I overheard one of them talking to… talking to Quaritch. Suggested they go to where they found her.”

Spider didn’t initially realise everyone had turned to Neteyam.

The other boy nodded, face set and determined. Even his voice held a level of authority, “I know where that is.” His eyes met Tonowari’s, “With your permission, sir, I will accompany Feeya on a scouting mission.”

“Woah, son, no. I’m not sending you out there with these guys around.” Jake rose to his feet. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t using his height to look down at his son. He already had one child with the Sky People, his heart clenched at the thought of risking another to them.

Tonowari cleared his throat, “Jakesully, I wouldn’t discount the boy. He was there when the capsule was found by Feeya, and she is one of our best warriors. I will send them, and additional scouts, to the nearby islands.”

Jake levelled himself with the clan leader. From where she stood, Kiri pulled Spider closer to her at the sight of the tension between her father and his Metkayina counterpart. She watched Spider glance around the room. She could see him picking up that this wasn’t the first time the patriarchs had clashed.

Jake’s jaw was stiff when he spoke, “I get to be in that party too.”

“Very well. I must now address the clan of our decision. We will start moving those who cannot fight at first light.” Tonowari looked back from the entrance of the pod. His spear drooped from its place in his hand. For the very first time, Jake could see the exhaustion that had overtaken the other man too. It disappeared just as quickly as Tonowari left.

Kiri tugged on Spider. “Come, we need to patch you up.”

Spider pulled his gaze away from Tonowari’s retreating form, and watched Jake briefly look to the ground, Neytiri coming up beside her mate and rested her hands on his shoulder. She said that they still had their dinner cooking in their Marui. The man wrapped his arm around her waist and nodded.

Neytiri reached for Tuk’s hand, the little girl looking at Spider again, as if to imprint him in her mind.

Lo’ak looked between his friend and eldest sister, giving Spider a sideways smirk. Spider rolled his eyes to Lo’ak’s cackles as the latter followed after Neteyam and his parents.

Kiri hauled Spider along with her over a walkway spanning the gap to an adjacent pod, this one only slightly smaller than the meeting Marui. Spider glanced around at the stoppered pots and jars that lined the shelves and surrounded the small fire situated in the centre. The medicinal smell reminded him of Mo’at’s hut in High Camp.

She pushed him into a seated position and left with instructions to not move. Spider looked around again. He recognised several ingredients, but he couldn’t remember for the life of him what different ones did. That was always Kiri’s domain.

His friend returned quickly, another girl in tow, about Kiri’s age. Spider gestured down from his forehead, a movement the newcomer reciprocated.

“Spider, this is Tsireya. She’s Tonowari’s daughter and Lo’ak’s love interest.”

Spider threw his head back and laughed, clarifying that his friend was shooting way out of his league. Tsireya blushed slightly, but sat down with him and Kiri.

Kiri had to supress her cackles too, but continued, “She’s been helping me with the Metkayina’s ways of healing. I was hoping she would be able to take a look at those scrapes.” Spider looked at her questioningly. Kiri explained, “We’re supposed to have a chaperone with us, long story, and she knows these ingredients better than I do.”

Spider insisted that his bruises and cuts from the reef were nothing and that he just needed to rest, but Kiri was hearing none of it, pushing him back down when he tried to stand. He reluctantly allowed Tsireya to smear a paste over the smaller scrapes and stick together the edges of cuts with a weird purple glue.

He did have to admit that it felt better afterwards.

Tsireya bade them goodnight at the entrance of the Sully Marui and headed off to her home.

As much as he wanted to enter, Spider sat on the walkway by the water and let his feet dangle over the edge. Kiri quickly returned from inside, approaching him slowly. He spotted her feet standing beside him and looked up. She gingerly held out a new exopack mask. He smiled up at her and took it.

He inhaled deeply, then quickly disconnected the hoses from the broken one, removing the cracked mask and replacing it with the other over his face. He sighed, allowing himself a small smile at being able to see the beauty of the evening without fractured glass marring it.

Spider frowned when Kiri didn’t sit. Instead, he looked up to see her face asking for permission to join him. He gave it without a second thought.

She plopped herself down, looking over to Spider’s hands clenching the edge of the walkway. She rolled her eyes and pulled him over to her. His head lolled onto her side.

“How are you, really?” Her voice was soft in the night.

Spider inhaled another breath of the filtered salty air. The waves lapped gently below him, lulling him into a soft and soothing calm. He found it easier to respond than he thought he would, “When I was taken, they put me in a room. I’ve never seen so much white. They wanted me to tell them where High Camp was, but I didn’t, I couldn’t. Quaritch came to me after. He told me to come with him, called me their ‘Monkey mascot’,” He shook his head at the bastardisation of Kiri’s nickname. “Used me to show them the planet. Sometimes I still get headaches from that machine.”

Kiri sucked in a breath sharply. Spider looked up to her in confusion. She didn’t elaborate, so he continued, “It was the same one they used on Lonnie. I thought it would kill me; I could feel my head expanding like it was going to explode, but after seeing what they did to Lonnie, I realised that I got off lightly.”

Spider looked up to Kiri. The girl stared out to the fading horizon, not loosening the taught muscles that pulled her upright. After a moment, she looked down to him. Spider didn’t like the distant look in her eyes when she asked, “That’s not the worst part, is it?”

He laughed, a dirty and sour laugh. “No, the worst part was that, for a moment, I thought he would be good to me. He stopped them torturing me.” Spider sighed. “I realised too slowly how vile that man is. I let myself get too close, and that mistake put Lonnie where she is now.”

“Spider, that isn’t your fault, you never could’ve known.” Kiri watched him clench and release his jaw; the sound of grinding teeth pinned her ears to her head.

Slowly, a small voice made its way from the boy, “I did all I could for her, but it wasn’t enough. No matter what you say, I still should’ve helped her escape.”

“I apologise for the late hour I have summoned you here, and for taking you away from your little ones, but it could not wait ‘till daybreak.”

Many villagers entered the pod as Tonowari spoke from the raised centre. Some carried said children, who were trying as hard as they could to stay awake to listen to their chief. He smiled at the familiar sight, remembering when his own children were younger and wanted to watch him speak.

He watched over his people as they found places to stand, looking up at him expectantly. Several confused murmurs arose from the crowd, some complaining about the time, others speculating about what the important news was.

Finally, once almost all the clan had gathered, Tonowari started speaking, “As you would all be aware, the Sky People have taken Jakesully’s daughter, and that this child was the one who attacked my own.” Murmurs of confirmation quietly rolled through the assembly. “What you do not know is that this girl was once a Sky Person. Jake tells me she was born before he boarded the Sky People ship that brought him here. In a way that I do not understand, they forced her from her human body into the one she has now and told her to kill Toruk Makto.”

Several questions of confusion were barked at him. Tonowari had spent many meetings with Jake explaining exactly what had passed since they found Lonnie. He didn’t understand much of it, but he couldn’t deny that the other man was placed in hard position, with no clear correct decision. In a split second, he realised that few options would’ve been better.

“She experiences voices in her head that tell her to do these terrible things. Jakesully and his family have been helping her, but we believe she was captured so the Sky People could try again with their twisted ways. She has boarded a Demon Ship, and we know where it is headed.”

“How?” Someone called from the crowd.

Tonowari turned his head in the direction of the sound. He couldn’t make out who asked. “Toruk Makto’s family have a friend, a human boy.” Those who hadn’t seen Spider walking through the village earlier gasped. “He lived with the Omatikaya, but was captured many months ago and escaped last night. He has provided us with the necessary information to defend ourselves.”

“Defend ourselves?” Someone called.

Tonowari nodded gravely. “Yes, the Sky People are going to a nearby island to prepare an attack. As such, we will be moving all those who cannot fight away from the village. Our scouts will tell us when they make landfall, then the warriors will-“

The hut exploded into irate shouts. People spoke over each other, calling to their Olo’eyktan of their disapproval. Several barged to front and gestured furiously. Tonowari shot them equally angry glares and raised his spear. “My people!” He shouted. The crowd quietened quickly.

The platform of the meeting pod felt smaller than it did the first time he addressed the clan as chief, so soon after his father’s passing. He looked to his children, to his mate and the new baby she carried within her, and pulled in another breath. “I do not agree with Jakesully’s actions in bringing his family here, but he has opened my eyes to the fact that Lonnie is still a child, and the Sky People have tortured her in a way that only the Great Mother is prepared to see. We will help reunite her with her family.”

Several more warriors called out angrily. Tonowari faced them with a firm gaze.

“Their actions have not been forgotten, nor forgiven. They will continue their sentence once the child has been rescued.” Tonowari pressed his palm to the air, warding off the calls of the incensed tribesmen. They quietened down quickly when their eyeline met that of their Olo’eyktan. Tonowari huffed, “Must I remind you that this family sought Uturu with us. They are part of this clan, and I would be disgraced to think that my people would not help another Na’vi in need.”

Many ducked their heads in shame under the pressure of his judgement.

He met his mate’s watch. She nodded solemnly for him to continue. The chief inhaled another breath; he didn’t think he’d sleep that night. “As soon as the sun breaks the horizon, all Taronyu but a handful will accompany me to this island. Toruk Makto, his son and other warriors will leave before to scout the area. Those who stay behind will move away to safety.”

It was all hands on deck as the ship neared the island. Through the night vision goggles he’d been given, Quaritch could just make out the landmass they intended to reach. They travelled along the edge of the archipelago, careful to avoid the mapped territory of other clans who weren’t the target of their strike. The turbines spun as slowly as they could while still propelling the ship to make as little noise as possible.

The Recom turned to the gathered soldiers on the deck below. A hundred stared back at him, arranged in diligent lines and awaiting his instructions. They were bathed in darkness, with only dim emergency lights illuminating them.

“Well, ain’t this a lot of pretty faces?” Quaritch’s mouth curled up in a snarling smile. From the gangway, he could make out almost the entire crew of the ship. One hand curled around the railing, the other gripping the hilt of his knife slotted against his back. “We set out to colonise this planet for ourselves. In order to complete that mission, we have to sail right into the heart of the hostiles’ territory. Do not think that we won’t take losses, no.”

He spotted his remaining squad of Recoms standing at the back. They had all experienced firsthand how deadly just two Na’vi could be. He grit his teeth for his fallen brothers and sisters.

“In order to succeed, we have created a weapon. Something to force them to lower their guard. There were some hiccups in the process, but our, ah, participant is much more well equipped now.” Several quiet chuckles arose.

“She will be deployed first, then we make landfall at dawn. Keep to your squads and hold position until the hostiles engage.” Quaritch nodded to the girl standing off to the side.

Lonnie paced rigidly to the front of the company. Despite their training, many couldn’t supress their minute reactions to the girl. Some had seen her before, most had not.

She could only be called small by Na’vi standards, for Lonnie stood at shoulder height for many of the humans. Gone were the intricately crafted pieces of clothing; the ripped loincloth and tangled chest piece. Instead, they were replaced with solid boots, tight dark green trousers and a too-small singlet. Covering it all was a vest, much like the ones the other Recoms used.

Her arms were bare. The once blue stripes had become swirls of scars and barely healing tissue. Her face was rigid and unmoving.

“Tomorrow, we kill the one they call Toruk Makto, and level this God-damn place.”

Loud cheers arose.

Lonnie looked up to Quaritch. The man nodded slowly, and the girl turned to the edge of the ship. Just as an island passed by, she swung her rifle behind her back, clipped the sidearm and knife into their holsters, and jumped into the water.

Chapter Text

Neteyam questioned his father’s ability to ride the Tsurak in a straight line the second time they almost barrelled into another warrior. He had long since passed his own Iknimaya, and as such had been offered the chance to tame his own Tsurak, but declined, stating he wanted to learn with an Ilu first.

He elbowed Lo’ak when the younger brother was offered the same thing. Lo’ak reluctantly murmured the reasoning Neteyam had. Now he was beginning to regret turning Tonowari down.

Only a small contingency travelled in a narrow line through the small straits between islands. It consisted of Feeya and her mate in the lead, then another scout, closely – too closely – followed by Neteyam and Jake. A handful of others that Tonowari had appointed brought up the rear, bringing the total to eight.

Every single one of them rode with determination, ready to defend the clan and its people.

If all went well, they wouldn’t have to engage before the main force of the Metkayina arrived.

Those who hadn’t been evacuated were preparing themselves and their weapons for battle. It would be the first time many of the younger generation had fought, most too young when Great Battle occurred.

Lo’ak had a brief discussion with the initial party about the best route to take to stay out of sight. Many of the Metkayina didn’t have experience with planning based on a map, so used to verbal directions they were, but the path had quickly been outlined, and they set off.

The boy beamed under the praise Jake gave to him.

Neteyam looked up to his father. The man kept his rifle loaded and ready, slung on a strap around his neck. The ammo vest he wore was one the boy recognised him wearing from as early as he could remember. The tomahawk that killed many Sky People and Recombinants was strapped to his waist, with the knife Neteyam’s mother had spent many weeks carving to perfection on his chest.

He couldn’t read his face, but his eyes betrayed everything. All the pain these invaders had caused and the position his family was placed in. Neteyam quickly looked away. Those emotions were private.

He looked down to his own weapons, a bow made for him when he completed his rites of passage, crafted from the wood of the Omatikaya’s fallen Hometree. Bound to the handle were a handful of arrows he and his siblings had crafted around the campfire in a time when the Sky People were a distant memory their father told them stories about.

The fletchings on the shafts shone in the morning light, the colours the same as his mother’s. She said they’d brought her good luck on her hunts since she was a child, and wanted the same for him.

He made a promise to himself that if, no, when, they got Lonnie back, he would be the one to teach her how to craft her bow. He knew she could be an invaluable member of the clan, and their family. The thought of her growing up with people who wanted her made him smile.

His father must’ve heard the whistle for them to submerge, for Neteyam was quickly encased in the sea. He only had a brief opportunity to inhale before water rushed up around him.

He pressed himself against his father's back to keep them streamlined and held onto the secondary leather strap, made so the Tsurak could carry multiple riders. The massive tail of the beast whipped side to side to propel them through the thinning reef. They would need all the cover they could get in the nearby kelp forest, lest an RDA airship spot them from above. They would be sitting ducks.

The aquatic plants’ strands hid most of the contingency from view, but Feeya’s Tsurak was still visible. She had stopped and dismounted beside her mate, both gesturing that this would be the place they exited the water.

Neteyam and Jake dismounted, the latter patting his Tsurak. Through the bond, the creature was told to hide in the kelp, but to stay nearby should they need to retreat.

Jake tapped his son on the shoulder and gestured to a nearby air pocket. The upturned plant held a large bubble inside that would allow the less experienced divers to breathe. Feeya noticed this and nodded. She swum with them to surface within. The other scouts formed a ring around the outside.

They both didn’t realise how much their chests were beginning to burn until air entered their lungs.

“You alright son?” Jake gripped the ridged wall of the plant to keep himself up. He was puffing more than he would like to admit.

“Yeah, I’ll be good.” He turned to the woman, “Are we close?”

She nodded and wordlessly swum back out. The duo glanced at each other, then sucked in another breath and dove again.

Pointing to where the seabed slopped upwards, the party strapped their weapons to themselves and began to swim. Neteyam had to hook the string of his bow over his chest to keep both his arms free. This string was normally tight along the bony ridge of his collar bone, but with the force of the water pushing back on it, it felt as though it would break the skin. He hastily adjusted it and pulled forwards again to catch up with his father.

The kelp forest ended several metres from the edge of the sandy incline, so with a nod, the party formed a circle with weapons out and began to make their exit. They breached the surface and took stock of their surroundings, careful to keep only their heads above and hidden behind the beach.

Neteyam recognised the surrounding islands from the map Lo’ak had poured over the past days. It was definitely where he and Feeya had found the dart. The exact location was just on the other side of the island.

Though it was quite large, the landmass was dwarfed by the one the village was built on. There was no large mountain in the middle, nor enormous mangrove trees that suspended their roots over the water. Instead, lower lying palm trees covered the sandy surface, interspersed with small closed off rock pools and ground level vegetation.

On any ordinary day, it would’ve been a beautiful sight. Now all they saw were potential places to cover.

One by one they paced up the bank and into the underbrush. Jake went first, providing overwatch from the shore for the rest of them. He kept his rifle aimed and unlatched, the rangefinder locking on to whatever he saw move.

Neteyam tapped his father on the shoulder when the last warrior had cleared the beach. Jake wrapped his tail around Neteyam’s arm, letting himself be pulled along whilst covering their backs. A quiet yip told him they’d found what they’d been looking for. He whispered for Neteyam to take up rear guard, then turned to a warrior - he couldn’t remember her name - who was gesturing questioningly at a plant. Jake nodded his confirmation. It matched the image Norm had sent him.

The Metkayina used the plant’s wax to waterproof their canoes, the same wax that also blocked the RDA’s thermal scans.

With warriors setup in a perimeter, they gathered a large pouch of water from a nearby pond and mixed it with the wax another scrapped from the underside of the leaves. Now almost liquid, they took turns covering as much of their bodies as they could in a layer of the substance.

Then it was a waiting game.

Alternating between them, a different person would climb to the top of different trees on lookout for the giant ship Spider described. When it was Neteyam’s turn, he pulled his Ionar visor over his eyes. The salt had turned part of the lens cloudy, and would need polishing later, but it still removed the glare from the water and let him see further.

He sat in the fork of two branches and parted the leaves with his hands and waited.

Gradually, the lack of activity stroked its hands over his body, trying to lull him into a drowsy doze. The calm wind blew air gently over him, softening and warming the wax, bringing his lack of sleep to the forefront of his mind. The early wakeup call and travelling out here really had exhausted him. He could afford a little nap, couldn’t he?

One eyelid made its way down, the other slowly following.

He shook himself awake. No, his dad and other warriors were below, counting on him. He spun around to check the other direction.

He was glad he did, for a reflection penetrated the lenses, not from the water.

Grey metal caught the light between the leaves of the dense canopy. It was off to his right, pulling up in a darker blue channel several islands away, just below the horizon.

Neteyam hooked his legs around the trunk and slid down to the ground below. His face must’ve conveyed his urgency, for Jake quickly stood. The others watched the two stare silently at each other, nodding solemnly. Neteyam broke the contact to point in the invaders’ direction. He spoke softly, “Below the horizon, several islands away.”

Jake strode through the underbrush to the edge of the beach. He was careful to keep his body hidden behind a tree. Just as his son said, the Demon Ship had anchored several kilometres away. Even across the distance he could still make out the enormity of the vessel.

Even though it wouldn’t have been connected to them, the RDA still would’ve taken notice of an Ikran flying quickly away from where the human soldiers had setup. Instead, Jake had given his spare radio collar to Tonowari, and with the help of Norm, had switched the frequency to something the RDA was even less likely to pick up, at the expense of range. If the scouts travelled any further from the village then they would lose coms completely.

The man glanced to Feeya when he placed his fingers against the strap around his throat. She nodded her assent.

“Brother, come in. We’ve spotted them near our location, about seven klicks out.”

The war party was on their way.

Kiri stood at the edge of the walkway, looking down on the beach where the war party saddled up. She knew Tonowari would start expounding some big speech about “the fight of their lives”, and “defending your clanmates to your final breath”. It was one she’d heard from her father many times since the Sky People returned.

She wouldn’t admit it, but when he did start speaking, Tonowari was a very good orator. So enthralled she was by the words that left his mouth, she flinched when Lo’ak placed his hand on her shoulder. Her attention was pulled to her brother.

Lo’ak nodded and turned to the separate final convoy that was departing to the safety of another island. The Metkayina had setup various outposts and caches of supplies and shelters all over the archipelago, and they would be moving to one of these locations.

There, healers and their children, including Kiri, would work under Ronal to triage and treat warriors that would inevitably be transported in from the battle. As much as she wished it wasn’t necessary, Kiri prayed to Eywa for there to be as few casualties as possible.

Even Spider had been given a bow hastily made from some spare wood and strung with a material that didn’t react the way he was used to. Lo’ak watched him strap his hastily made axe to the side of his waistband with a strip of leather. The human boy was deemed to have crucial knowledge of the specific vessel and its crew, and he had completed every Omatikayan trial he was physically capable of, so had been given as a rider to another warrior.

Kiri watched their apprehension quickly dissipate against Spider’s polite greeting and respectful demeanour.

They both knew, though, that Tonowari had given Spider the weapons as a test of his loyalty, and their friend would not let them down.

Lo’ak had argued with their father to be allowed onto the main force, but he, along with Kiri, hadn’t completed their Uniltaron. Neteyam had only just completed his before Lonnie arrived, and as such was considered a warrior, but not his siblings, not yet.

Tonowari had reluctantly acquiesced that Lo’ak would act as the war party’s remote navigator. For all his hot-headedness, no-one could deny that years of exploring the forest had given Lo’ak an uncanny ability to find his way. The boy too was equipped with a newly encrypted communicator, one of the only other ones on hand.

Lo’ak accepted the role, though not without silently complaining about not being on the frontline. A hard glare from Jake stopped him from speaking his mind outwardly to Tonowari.

With a final hug from their mother, Lo’ak and Kiri scooped a softly sobbing Tuk up and held her as they watched the warriors depart for the battle. Neytiri swooped down on her Ikran and blew a kiss to them. It was a human gesture Jake had taught her was used to express affection. She had taken a liking to it.

The siblings smiled sadly back and waved.

It was the sharp call from Ronal that made them realise they’d been standing there for several minutes.

“C’mon.” Lo’ak held his hand out for Tuk and gently pulled her to his Ilu. He tried to put on a brave face.

Kiri came up beside him on her own mount with Tsireya following close behind. The other girl would be in charge of the younger healers, whilst her mother directed them all.

Gradually, they set off in the direction of safety.

He heard the war cries before he spotted the force rounding the peninsula, coming into view as a mass of furious and determined warriors. Through the scope of his rifle, he spotted Tonowari at the tip of the spear. The clan spread out behind their Olo’eyktan, spanning the narrow gaps between islands with countless fighters.

Jake whistled once for the attention of the scouts. Feeya looked up when she recognised the war cries too. Jake waited for her to signal to move, and after the initial awe, they moved quickly down the beach to where they’d left their Tsuraks.

The beasts surfaced upon hearing the clicks of their riders, and everyone went to mount. Jake secured the leather strap around his hand and pulled his rifle in front. He glanced back when the rear of the saddle dipped, seeing Neteyam’s determined face.

The man shook his head with worry, “No, you stay on the land.”

Neteyam scowled, “I’m a warrior like you. I’m supposed to fight.”

His firstborn son, so ready to prove himself to his father. Little did he know, he lit up Jake’s world from the moment Neytiri announced she was expecting.

Jake’s frown turned to a fond smile. He pulled the boy’s head against his own, talking only for his son, “I know, and you will. Stick to the forest, you know the environment. Pick off who you can, but stay hidden.” He sighed, “Eywa be with you, son.”

The war party flew past, and Jake dashed away to swim beside Tonowari. He spared a glance back to Neteyam, who had turned and was stalking into the undergrowth.

A gentle pull at the back of his mind drew his gaze up. Neytiri flew low overhead, watching from the back of her Ikran. He felt a surge of righteous fury for the people who were forcing their hand into this battle. The people who had taken away his chance of a contented life, who gave him his daughter in a way that meant she wasn’t truly his.

No, they would win.

Through their earpieces, Lo’ak guided them all through the best route to say out of sight of the RDA’s ship. When they were close enough, Lo’ak would give them the command to submerge and engage. It was now or never.

The warriors fell silent the further they went, some shifting uncomfortably in their saddles, but they all kept riding with weapons poised and ready. In the shallow waters, Ilu chirped curiously at them and swam beside, but left soon after receiving little attention.

Lo’ak’s directions soon ended, and Tonowari held his hand up to dive.

Below the water they all went. Jake’s eyes stung with the speed at which they swam, salt and sand getting under his eyelids and rubbing painfully. The neural bond allowed him to command his Tsurak to follow the others, even without his sight, so they swum further down and into the reef to cover them from above.

The hull of the enormous ship appeared right above, and Jake readied his feet on the saddle in a crouch.

The enemy was ready.

Blast’s shot their way across the surface as depth charges shattered the cohesive formation. Warriors were blasted off their mounts and deeper into the water. The disorientation they caused kept the riders submerged with their hands pressed to their ears. Many had dropped their weapons.

Jake clutched at his chest as another volley of charges sunk and exploded. He was pushed down onto the seabed. A cloud of red appeared by his ear, accompanied by a searing pain. He pressed his hand to his ear, knowing the eardrum was destroyed.

Through the silty water he could just make out several warriors remounting their Tsurak’s and pulling away to surface. Moving his throat to produce the clicking sound sent another explosion of pain through his skull, but the creature appeared quickly.

By the time he reached the surface, his lungs were burning and limbs felt like jelly from the charges. Warriors left, right and centre charged at a series of smaller boats swarming the Metkayina. The vessels peppered the water with mounted gun fire, narrowly missing several Taronyu.

With enough speed the Tsurak opened its wings and took flight. “Rrrrrgghha!” Jake pulled closer to the Demon Ship and shot at a group of soldiers on the deck. He only had a moment of satisfaction at their deaths before gulping in air and diving down.

A hail of gunfire followed him deep under the water.

Even from down there the roar of the boats filled his head, bringing back memories of explosions and gunfire from Earth. The ratatata of machine guns spewing lead into the air, engines revving to evacuate troops, mines exploding at the side of the road.

An image of a hospital bed entered his mind. The white sheets tucked neatly around his propped-up body, matching the blank walls and smell of antiseptic alcohol. A mop of blonde hair splayed itself over one side, the woman it belonged to sleeping restlessly.

The doctor telling him he wouldn’t walk again.

“Dad, da- Come- in. Break in- islands. Get- land!” Lo’ak’s voice crackled through the earpiece. Tonowari flew past, and through the distortion of the water he looked worried. He must’ve heard Lo’ak too.

Jake fumbled with the neck strap, feeling the button permanently depressed and corroded with salt. Lo’ak must be hearing everything. He clicked several times to send his confirmation, but his ear made it come out as strained groans. He turned to surface for air further from the ships.

A high-pitched shriek brought his attention forward. He darted to the side to avoid the incoming gunfire. The Recombinant roughly handled their Ikran around to line up another shot, and Jake spun in the air to avoid the second burst.

He looked up to the sky. Neytiri rolled over and pitched back on her mount, sending an arrow in the direction of the soldier. Her aim was true, and the Recom slumped forward and into the water.

His mate glanced over. She was low on arrows, and the ones fired were now impaling humans and Recoms sinking to the seabed. They needed to lure the Sky People away. The planned ambush location was torn to shreds and set on fire.

A body fell through the water beside him; he only had the chance to see their teal skin. The gap in the islands was just ahead, and beyond it the beach they could regroup.

Another breath filled Jake’s lungs and he dived. The body of a Tsurak in a red cloud blocked his path, so he swerved under it and tried not to think about its rider. A quick hop above revealed he was on the other side of the landmass to the Demon Ship. Jake let his Tsurak close the distance with the shore and hopped off when the water was waist deep.

A steady stream of Taronyu moved around the edge of the archipelago and off into the distance. They each carried a groaning injured warrior to the triage location Ronal was running.

Tonowari spotted Jake coming up the sand and turned away from the warriors he spoke to. “Jakesully, we cannot fight them with their metal canons. We must restock our weapons.”

The man took a second to take stock of his own ammunition. He was down a magazine and a half. “Have the warriors bring spears and arrows back with them from the village.” Jake called over two younger clansmen and directed them to take a casualty with them each and to return with supplies. He turned back to Tonowari, “We have to get them away from that ship. They’re too well defended there.”

A small body flailed in the water nearby, eliciting yips from several hunters who raised their spears. The boy’s arms were up in the air quickly, but the Na’vi were slower to lower the weapons.

“Kid!” Jake sprinted down to the waterline and grasped Spider a bit more harshly than he had meant to. The boy had a single arrow left and part of his bow was beginning to splinter. He had a long gash running down his bicep and several small nicks across his chest. “Where’s your rider?”

Spider looked at the sand, panting heavily. Jake helped him up to his feet and watched with concern at how much the boy struggled to breathe. He quickly saw why; the mask was ajar and poorly sealed against Spider’s face. Jake reached around and pulled the straps tighter. It seemed to help.

Someone appeared beside Jake. It took him a second to recognise the man as the one Spider rode with, and he half expected a confrontation by the scowl worn on the warrior’s face, but the expression quickly dropped to one of relief.

“Are you okay, child?” The man’s face softened when Spider nodded a quick affirmation. He placed his remaining throwing spears on the sand and reached for the boy’s side, where the axe was tied. With a quick glance for permission, the axe was untied and placed firmly in Spider’s hand. The boy felt his heart swell at the recognition he was given, blinking quickly to keep his eyes dry. The man nodded again, then turned to leave and speak to Tonowari.

Everyone on the beach glanced up from Spider when Neytiri landed. Jake stumbled when he saw Neteyam riding with her. Just as he went to his son, Neytiri placed a hand firmly on his chest. He looked at her questioningly, but she pushed back further till they were up by Tonowari. Neteyam too followed them, standing beside his parents.

“We have seen them coming around the island. Their ship was too big to fit through the strait, so they went the other way. Lo’ak estimates ten minutes before they are visible.”

“Mum’s right, they’re not far away.”

Jake looked to his mate, then his son. He hadn’t heard anything on his earpiece. “Lo’ak, come in. Son.” Nothing but static came back.

Neytiri placed her hand on his arm. She spoke softly to him, like one would to a wounded animal, “He cannot hear us, we are too far away.” Neytiri narrowed her eyes suddenly. She leant in and pulled his head closer with both hands, turning it to the side to inspect his ear. When Jake winced, she dropped her hands quickly, muttering profuse apologies.

Jake tipped his head back and closed his eyes, inhaling deeply to ease the pain.

“Jakesully, my warriors will engage them and keep them in the water.” Tonowari spotted several warriors on the transport run returning from the village. “Find you daughter and the demon who took her. We will keep them busy for as long as we can.” The man looked to the ground, “Do not forget that we are doing this not only for your daughter, but for the safety of the village too.”

Tonowari hollered for his warriors, the Metkayina rallying around him with yips and war cries. They descended into the water, finding their mounts quickly and setting off in the direction Neteyam pointed.

“Be careful, ma Jake. Until we get her back, her mind belongs to them.” Neytiri leant forwards to rest her head against Jake’s. Through the bond mates possessed, even without Tsaheylu, Jake could feel her worry for his safety and that of their children, but also the shear love she had for all of them. He didn’t doubt she could feel the same from him.

They held there for a moment, before Neteyam cleared his throat. The adults smiled to each other and turned to their son. Neytiri split her remaining arrows with Neteyam, dividing what was left between them. A quick call for her Ikran and Neytiri was back in the air.

The father and son nodded to each other, then set off down the sand.

“Spider, bro, c’mon.” Neteyam tugged Spider up and they ran into the undergrowth.

Although they kept to the landside of the beach and tucked in the undergrowth, they weren’t safe from the humans they fought against. Several times bullets peppered into the sand, kicking up dust and forcing the trio to duck behind whatever nearby cover was available.

The squads of humans would advance on their position, and Jake ordered Neteyam and Spider off to the flanks to encircle the hostiles. The twang of arrows and the grunt of fallen soldiers was the only sound made as each pair of Sky People dropped. Jake had to conserve his ammo; Spider’s and Neteyam’s arrows were reusable for the most part, but his bullets were not.

As they moved along the island, the battle raged on in the water. Quartich’s Recombinants lay down swathes of fire from above on their banshees, forcing many warriors to dive and use the water as a shield. His mate used her arrows effectively. She carefully chose each of her targets and, with a well-aimed shot, brought soldiers to an early grave. Several of the Recoms were already flailing in the water, ready for picking off by the Metkayina.

When the last of Spider’s arrows had snapped or couldn’t be pulled from a body, Jake watched him fight like a demon with his axe. The human may not have officially trained to be a warrior, but he sure as hell fought with a vengeance against the invaders. Jake didn’t know if he should be proud or terrified of the ease Spider hacked and cut.

They took cover when more bullets punctured the sand and trees. Jake called to duck but hesitated when the burst quickly stopped. The human soldiers had sprayed a stream rather than short bursts, like they were trying to force the lead through the barriers. But these shots were short and tactical. They wanted them to hide.

A bullet skimmed past his head when Jake tried to peer at their newest assailant.

Lonnie.

Small and dressed in marine fatigues, she sprinted across the sand. Followed by another Recom, she raised her rifle and fired again.

Neteyam slid on the ground over to his father. “Dad-“

“It’s Lonnie. With a Recom.” Jake unclipped his pistol and tossed it to Spider. The handle would be too big for human hands, but any ranged weapon was better than none. “You boys stay safe now, okay?”

“Dad, what are- DAD, what are you doing!”

Jake leapt from behind the trunk and fired at the Recom. Two shots landed in the bald man’s shoulder and stomach and he dropped to the ground. “GO GO GO!” Jake steadied his gun and aimed for the sand at Lonnie’s feet.

She returned fire swiftly, though she went for his head. From the corner of his eye, he could see Neteyam and Spider running further into the forest. The boys could take care of themselves. He needed them to.

Jake swung his legs up and over a downed tree trunk and slid behind a large boulder. Flashes of rounds breaking the sound barrier accelerated past his head. He couldn’t shoot his daughter, but he could throw her off.

With his stomach on the ground, he positioned his rifle through the vegetation and fired another warning shot towards her. She stopped in her tracks, rifled lowered. Through the scope he could make out a subtle twitch in her eye and cheek, but it returned to slack muscle quickly.

Lonnie turned and sprinted down the sand. The heavy boots weighed her down, but she was quickly at the edge of sight.

“Lonnie!” Jake scrambled to his feet and dashed after her. The shoulder strap of her rifle was tightened so the weapon sat flush against her spine, allowing her arms to pump through the air. Jake’s run was uncoordinated on the compliant surface, especially with the weight of his gun.

She reached out to a tree and swung herself around it to change direction. Further into the island they ran, until the sounds of battle had faded, and they were left with the rustling of leaves and distant chirps of animals. Lonnie planted her foot on a boulder and pushed upwards. Her hands gripped the top of a ledge and she hauled herself over the top.

Jake faltered at her quick motions but tightened his rifle and set for a run-up. With heavy legs and tired arms he hopped on top of the rise and was met with more forest.

Nowhere in the small clearing was his daughter. The wind blew through the trees, creating a whistling when a strong gust came through. This deep the sounds of the animals too had stopped, and the trickling of water from the nearby stream ran almost silently down the face he’d just climbed.

Jake adjusted his rifle’s strap and raised the stock to his shoulder. He folded the scope to the side to use the iron sights in the enclosed environment. The firm press of the metal on his body amplified the strong heartbeat within his chest. He could feel it getting faster in the silence of the clearing. The rush of blood to his head with each pulse throbbed his ear painfully.

“Lonnie!” His voice was absorbed by the thick foliage, no echo returning. “Come back to me. Please.”

A sharp whoosh was all the warning he got before a knife embedded itself in the ground by his foot. Jake spun around to see Lonnie sprinting towards him with her gun raised. She unleashed a spray of bullets, poorly aimed with her speed. Dirt and splintered wood flicked up into the air.

A quick push with one foot and Jake slid behind cover to return fire. He deliberately shot to the side of her head, but unlike last time, she wasn’t fazed.

He lowered his weapon when she ran closer, swinging it around his back and holding his hands out to brace for Lonnie’s charge. It never came.

Lonnie rolled on the ground straight between his legs, plucking the knife from the dirt and slashing at his leg. She made contact with the flesh, drawing a long line down Jake’s calf. From the ground she swung down at his foot. By sheer luck she missed, allowing Jake to kick upwards on her arm. The limb flicked into the air where he caught it.

Her hand twitched down with the knife, aiming for his wrist, but the stronger man held her there. The pain in his leg and ear was nothing compared to that in his mind.

“Lonnie, what’re you doing? Please, this isn’t you.” Lonnie let out a guttural growl. He stared straight into her eyes. Dull and sunken, they brimmed with fury.

He missed the movement of her other arm.

The knife dropped from the one he held straight into her other hand. The blade plunged forward into his stomach, twisting violently to the hilt.

Jake gasped and stumbled back. Lonnie pulled the knife from his flesh. She went for another stab, but Jake managed to land a strike to her thigh. Her leg crumbled below her, so she rolled with it until she was behind him.

Before Jake could turn, Lonnie reached up to his rifle and twisted her body to pull it down. The strap bound up against his shoulder and neck, immobilising him. She threw a punch to the back of his knee, just above the cut, and he collapsed like a rag doll.

Like a predator around its prey, she circled him on the ground. When Jake went for the knife on his chest, she landed a hit against the side of his head. Jake shrieked and crumpled into a ball. Lonnie reached over him and unsheathed his dagger and tomahawk, tossing them over her shoulder into the bushes.

Jake whimpered, pressing a hand to his head. He only managed a quiet whisper, “Lonnie, my girl, come back to me.” Lonnie continued her prowl. “Please, I know you. You can fight this, don’t let them-“

“Bold of you to assume you know her, Sully.” Through the thicket a tall man strode. An imperfect mimic of the forest people, he stopped by the edge of the clearing.

Jake scrambled for the rifle pulled tight under him. A quick slice of Lonnie’s blade and the strap came loose. The girl slapped Jake’s ear and yanked the gun away as he writhed.

With taught muscles throughout his body, Jake managed to steel himself enough to roll onto a knee, careful to keep his cut calf straight. He glared up at the face of the man who had once been his mentor, now a puppet of the RDA’s scientists and their twisted meddling with nature. “You motherf-“

Lonnie flicked her knife against his throat.

“Ah ah, Sully, we have a child here.” Quaritch’s incisors poked his bottom lip when his mouth curled into a grin. The Recom whistled sharply and Lonnie lowered her arm. She lingered for a moment, then walked to Quartich’s side. Her eyes focussed off into the distance, and Jake could make out the lack of understanding behind them.

She truly had no idea what was happening.

“You ain’t no war leader, Sully, just a dumb shmuck who thought he could make a difference. Look where that got you; on the run for a kid you left behind. You really are pathetic.”

Jake’s hiss stopped quickly when his head pounded. He settled for glaring at the man. “I’ve made mistakes, but genocide wasn’t one of them.” Quaritch chuffed. “I know my daughter. What you’ve done, I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.” Jake’s eyes firmly met Quaritch’s. “Spider told us everything.”

It was only for a moment, but Jake could see Quaritch’s face slacken slightly at the mention of the boy’s name. The man schooled himself quickly.

“What is it with you thinking you know her? You never did, and you don’t now.” One hand reached up to the Recombinant’s jacket. He pulled out a thin metal case, opening it to reveal a glass-like rectangular plate. “I know everything Jake. I know damn well she hated your arse. Funny thing, memories. If you know how to read them, you can twist a person. That with whatever tech the lab coats stuck together.” Quaritch chuckled.

Across the space, Jake could just make out the tiny flinch of Lonnie’s hand when Quaritch grasped her shoulder. He felt his stomach drop. She was still in there, fighting whatever programming they forced upon her.

“No memories, no thoughts. Just a blank slate. Unfortunately, there are some defects. Slower growth, heterochromia, decreased upper limb muscle mass…” Quaritch waved his hand dismissively. “Truthfully, I don’t think we need more, not enough subjects and not with you gone, but who am I to get in the way of the General?”

The whole time the Recom talked, Jake kept his eyes on the Recom’s body language. Spend enough time with one and you can read an entire person’s state of mind through their tail. The minute twitches and sways could betray a person’s conflicts, their thoughts and intentions. Quaritch couldn’t do this, Jake knew that much. The way the man’s tail moved slowly side to side, he was overconfident. Good.

The stab wound in Jake’s side spurted a red stream when he sat forwards. With one hand splayed on the ground, he reached forward with the other to Lonnie. She stayed still across the gap. “I left you, and I’m sorry. It’s the biggest mistake I’ve ever made. My firstborn child, my daughter. I’ve loved you from the day you were born, and I shouldn’t have left you. Please, fight them, come back to me.”

Lonnie hissed violently. It was the first sound he heard his daughter make since she was abducted.

Quaritch coughed, “As touching as this is…”

The words disappeared into the back of Jake’s mind; he poured everything into the words he spoke to his daughter. Tears began to drip down his face when she moved closer to him, knife poised for a killing blow.

“Lonnie, I would never do anything to hurt you, not again.” Her motions stalled, neck muscles tearing her head from side to side. “Neytiri misses you. Your siblings miss you. I miss you. You’re mine. Oel ngati kameie, Ma’ite.”

He didn’t know if it was his words or pitiful state, but something flashed in Lonnie’s eyes, a clarity Jake hadn’t seen before. Quaritch whistled sharply. Lonnie thrust her hand forwards, and Jake slumped motionless to the ground.

Quaritch snarled at the body, but stayed in place. His foe lay face down in the grass, still and unresponsive. A surge of satisfaction made its way throughout his body when his watched his prodigy return to his side, limbs rigid and muscles taught. He turned to her, “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

He huffed in satisfaction, eyeing the girl. She watched the body resolutely. “Leave him to the animals. Don’t need to-“

Lonnie spun, grabbing the front of the Recom’s vest. She pulled, jumped and slashed.

Quaritch sputtered, reaching for his gurgling throat.

A second body fell.

The sound of the thud roused Jake from his prone position. He groaned, stomach and leg oozing slowly as the blood thickened, but the pain still remained. The bashing of a heartbeat sent stars flashing before his eyes and bolts of electricity through his brain. But still, Jake managed to force himself to look up to his daughter. She stood unmoving, arm stuck at the end of its lethal arc.

“Thank you, Lonnie. Thank you.”

Her gaze flicked to him. Gone were the colours and clarity, pulled back by the RDA’s ministrations. The pistol on her hip was up and firing before Jake could move to cover. He sprinted and slid behind a tree, but not before a bullet shattered the base of his tail.

Lonnie screamed and fired until the gun clicked with spent cases.

Suddenly the weapon felt hot. Red hot. She hissed as pain exploded in her mind, throwing it deep into the forest. Away, where the Mother could reclaim her resources; away from those it could hurt.

Every step she took, every limb that moved was a war of attrition. They pulled and they grasped, to bring her back and deeper down. But she fought. Teeth clenched and face taught with pain, she reached for the pocket on Quaritch’s vest that held the drive.

She clutched the metal casing to her chest tightly. A sob broke from her throat.

The bright orange strap removed itself from the Recom’s waistband. Lonnie snapped one end over her wrist. The other side followed.

Bound hands couldn’t hurt anyone.

Jake pushed forward from the tree as fast as he could. He dropped to the ground and pulled the shaking body to his own. He trembled when he spoke, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

And there she was, cradled in the arms of her father. And she wept.

Chapter Text

“Jake! Ma Jake!”

“Neytiri, over here!” Spider called out to the woman from the edge of a clearing.

Neytiri sprinted to where the boy stood, pushing through bushes and jumping over rocks. She reached Spider and followed the direction he pointed. Her mate lay slumped on the ground beside Lonnie, who knelt with a bowed head and trembling limbs. Further away, she could make out another prone body.

Spider turned to the rustling beside him, just in time to see Neteyam follow his mother from the undergrowth.

“Dad.” Neteyam gasped. It took a moment for him and Neytiri to move to action.

They sprinted forwards. Neytiri slid on her knees to her mate, glancing quickly over his body. The skin on his tail was split and the muscle fibres frayed, showing bone beneath. A long cut ran up his leg, also deep enough to see the bone.

Neteyam felt his legs turn to liquid, only managing a controlled fall to the ground.

Up close, they could make out the dark patch of grass Jake lay in. The thick liquid that should’ve circulated through him strained the grass a dark brown as it dried. He’d been lying there for long enough.

“My son, help me lift him.”

Carefully minding his dad’s tail, Neteyam hauled him over onto his back. From this angle the damage was much clearer. Dark red and brown crusted over a narrow line on his stomach, but they knew the wound went much deeper.

Spider ran forward with them, helping Neteyam lift the man’s legs whilst Neytiri pulled his torso off the ground. They were careful not to jostle him too much, but even Spider could tell that the movement wouldn’t do Jake any good.

The wife and son hauled him out of the clearing and disappeared in the direction of the beach. Spider almost went to follow them, but faltered.

“Shoot, Lonnie.” Spider turned and dropped to the girl. Waving his hand in front of her face did nothing; she kept staring straight at the ground. He couldn’t tell if it was adrenaline or the cold that caused her shivering. “Lonnie, look at me.”

Her head only moved slightly at the sound of her name; Spider saw her ears twitch minutely. The boy gently rested a hand on her bound wrists. “Who did this to you?” The tone of voice was too similar to the one he used to talk to her through the cell door.

“M- me.” Her voice cracked with disuse.

Spider resolutely hardened his mind. He had to get her back to the village too. She was too big to carry alone, so he wrapped an arm around her back and under her shoulder, throwing hers around his neck and lifting with as much might as he could muster with fading adrenaline.

“C’mon, let’s get you back.” It was a clumsy and slow walk, and she did nothing to help, but Spider gradually got them closer to the edge of the clearing, bit by bit.

He stoutly ignored the body of Quaritch. The man could finally do one good thing; sending his essence to Eywa and feeding the ecosystem.

That body wasn’t his father’s.

Lonnie whimpered when they dropped down from a rock and onto the ground. Spider carefully lowered them both down, unwrapping their arms. He stood and stretched out his back, jumping several times to get his blood flowing. “Almost there, almost there.” He didn’t know if he whispered it to himself or Lonnie.

Spider switched sides and lifted Lonnie on his other shoulder. He would be stretching and aching for days after this; the heat of the battle left surface wounds he couldn’t focus on, but below the skin his muscles screamed for relief. Adrenaline could only take him so far.

It took too long for them to reach the top of the sandy beach. Spider grimaced as he passed the dead body of the Recom Jake had shot before running off. The man’s skin had begun to turn red in the sun, and several critters burrowed into the sand below him.

It was the smell that reached him next. Metallic and tacky and wrong. Patches of red littered the sand, some accompanied by various bodies. A Metkayina here and there, but he was thankful it was primarily humans and Recoms.

The Demon ship drifted on its mooring in the distance. No one moved across the deck, and as far as Spider could tell, there wasn’t anyone left of the invading force at all. If there were survivors, they would’ve been rounded up and held nearby. Small boats smouldered on rocky outcrops.

He saw several warriors huddled with Neytiri over Jake, wrapping him in a sling they used to transport the dead and injured. The tight material was secured around the man’s body, and he was placed on the back of Neytiri’s Ikran.

Neteyam watched anxiously from the water’s edge, but upon seeing his encumbered friend quickly ran up to Spider. He took Lonnie’s other shoulder and most of her weight with it. Spider relaxed at the relief.

“Dude, sorry. I should’ve helped you.”

Spider shrugged it off. He centred himself on the hissing of his exopack as he breathed. They turned to the sound of flapping wings and watched Neytiri take off back to the village. They’d have to make their own way back.

Only a handful of warriors remained on the beach. They assumed most of them were either injured and taken back to the healing outpost, or had spread out across the battlefield to search for stragglers.

The duo carried Lonnie further along. They didn’t wish to reach the ship, but reasoned that most people would be closer to it than them. Before long they had to sit and rest. Lonnie made no noise when they lowered her, keeping her eyes firmly on the sand. The boys sat to her side to shield her from the wind.

Spider watched Neteyam glance down at the orange strap around her wrists. “I’ll tell you later.”

Neteyam grunted his acknowledgement.                   

Spider pulled Jake’s pistol from his waistband and popped the remaining bullet from the clip. His feet swept sand over the casing untill it disappeared. He cleared the chamber, then replaced the cool metal on his waist.

Neteyam watched the actions. Truthfully, the enormity of what had happened hadn’t settled yet, but he knew his mind would be left reeling for days, maybe weeks to come. Yet he couldn’t imagine what it was like for Spider. His friend slaughtered countless humans in service of the Na’vi, literally saw the corpse the man who pretended to be his father, then brought the walking shell of his friend back to the beach whilst Neteyam ran off and left him.

The Na’vi boy scolded himself. They needed to stick together. He just hoped his dad would be alright. It was up to his mother and Kiri to ensure it.

The beach was back to its normal tranquil state; gone were the war cries and bullet shockwaves.

A crack of thunder rolled in the distance, and they realised that the land was starting to darken into night, the shadows lengthening. The remaining Taronyu were mounting up, and they’d need to ask for a ride back to the village.

Slowly, Neteyam stood. He pulled Spider to his feet, and they both hauled Lonnie up between them. Down at the water’s edge they called out to some of the Metkayina.

There was no fanfare when they made it to the makeshift outpost. Hidden from view, deep in the trees, the Metkayina worked to triage, treat, and take stock of their supplies. When Neteyam and Spider thanked the warriors for bringing them and Lonnie back, the Taronyu disappeared into the thick of the organised chaos without a second glance.

They started forwards through the settlement, passing numerous warriors, some they recognised from the battle. Many turned their heads to look at the trio, but none were more than a quick glance. Spider was amazed at how quickly their apprehension towards him turned to indifference. He supposed he couldn’t really ask for more.

Some nodded to them as they walked, one even stopping to point out Tonowari. Spider recognised her as Feeya only after Neteyam said her name.

Even from the edge of the clearing, they could feel the heavy mood. The air smelt foul, like death and decay. Even the forest seemed to understand, for there were no flowers, nor animals.

A queue had formed in front of the chief. People lined up to either ask a question about the fate of a loved one and the outcome of the battle, or to give information. He would point people in the right direction for them to follow up with. Even this far from his home clan, Neteyam recognised many of the delegation strategies his dad had taught him.

When it was their turn, Tonowari stared down and immediately looked relieved. His expression quickly schooled itself back into what Neteyam would call a Chief Face. “It is good to see you safe, children. And that you have recovered the girl.” He looked at them expectantly, waiting for a response.

“Thank you, sir. Please, have you seen my dad?” Neteyam pulled Lonnie’s arm further around his shoulder when she slipped.

Tonowari nodded. “Your father is okay. I saw my mate tending to him not long ago, though I do not know where he is lying.” The imposing man turned to Spider, gesturing down from his forehead. “We are thankful for your service.” The human boy returned to motion, beaming with pride.

The Olo’eyktan excused himself and turned to talk to a group of passing warriors. Neteyam waved to Lo’ak when he realised his brother was one of them.

Looking through the rest of the crowds, they stood up as tall as they could to find who they were looking for. It was a much harder task for Spider, not including the weight that Lonnie bore down on him. He did however manage to see a set of ears that perked up when they spotted him through the mess of limbs at ground level.

Tuk shot up from her spot on the ground. “Lonnie!” The little girl shrieked. She sprinted towards Lonnie, going in for a tackle hug, but Spider quickly grasped her shoulders and pulled her back. She looked up, confused, meeting the downturn of Spider’s eyes.

He spoke gently, “Hey Tuk, Lonnie’s been through a lot. She just needs a little time to get better, okay?” Spider was tall for a human, but even Tuk almost reached his height. His arm lifted high to pat the girl gently on the back.

Tuk deflated, but nodded. Ewya knows it would be hard for her to understand; Spider struggled to most of the time too.

“Tuk-Tuk, where’s mum and dad?” Neteyam knelt next to his sister.

“Mum’s with dad.” Tuk pointed in the direction several of the older children carried items; blankets, poultices, bandages. “The healers said I was getting in the way.” Her ears drooped, gaze going to the floor.

Neteyam quickly turned to Spider, who nodded and braced Lonnie against himself. Neteyam gathered Tuk up and pulled her onto his back. They walked in the direction Tuk pointed, Spider and Lonnie following closely behind.

The centre of the outpost wasn’t anything like Awa’atlu. In the village, the Olo’eyktan’s Mauri, the healing pod, and meeting places were centrally located amongst the suspended walkways, but here, the tree’s had been cleared just enough to create space for rows upon rows of mats. Every single one of them had a warrior lying on it. Some groaned and coughed, others were silent.

Anyone with a semblance of healing ability was called forward to aid in the care. Several children, those around Kiri’s age, shadowed their parents, treating patients wherever they could.

Tuk perked up when she spotted her sister tending to a warrior with his arm strapped in a sling across his chest. Tsireya and Ronal were close by, managing the worst of the injuries and delegating tasks. Ronal had given herself the heart-wrenching job of pulling drapes over those who would never wake.

Neteyam quickly turned away so his sister couldn’t see that.

They found Jake lying on a mat at the edge of the arrangement, Neytiri beside him.

Tuk was set down, quickly going to hug her mother. Neteyam too lay his head against her shoulder, closing his eyes momentarily to gather his thoughts.

Spider and Lonnie sat on the ground behind the others. The boy ensured Lonnie was comfortably propped up against the base of a tree before lying back on the dirt and letting his aches overtake him.

He couldn’t hear what the Sullys spoke quietly about, but the sound of Jake’s voice caught his ears.

“Lonnie?” Jake’s groans were nothing more than a whisper. Neytiri knelt beside her mate, stroking her hand gently through his hair. She moved backwards at the sound of the name to reveal where Spider placed the girl.

Jake’s eyes focussed for a moment; his pupils contracting and widening erratically, but his head lay back on the mat when he spotted his daughter.

The man sighed contently, then fell into the depths of unconsciousness.

The first time Lonnie realised she was safe was, strangely enough, when a knife pressed against her skin. The blade sawed through the orange strap, making quick work of the material. The bindings fell away from her wrists, allowing the chaffed skin to breath the clean air.

The RDA always used a key to unlock handcuffs.

She didn’t know when she made the connection, but the blue figures that moved before her weren’t the ones dressed in camouflage, and given how gently they moved her about, she knew they couldn’t be the Recoms or scientists.

Echoes of touches ghosted over her scared skin; the receptors beneath the surface were no longer useful in decerning many different sensations. She could feel if something was there, and if it was hot or cold, but far from more than that.

Her eyes hadn’t been of much help either. It had taken time, wishfully thinking that they deceived her, before she gave up listening to the information given to her conscious mind; she only operated on what subconscious autonomous functions required vision. The other part of her, the part that controlled her motions, used it. But not her true self.

The few thoughts that had been able to form were a jumble of words that made little sense. Some English, some Na’vi; she wondered when she learnt those words.

Sounds proliferated through the space, but they too weren’t complete sentences. Mutterings here and there, some louder, most quiet.

Then Lonnie felt something cool, something calm. It washed up around her, sapping heat, but not in a way that drained the rest of her. The soles of her feet felt it first, a rising fluid that curled her toes downwards. She felt the skin of it rise further up her body, past her hips and stomach and chest, reaching her shoulders.

Her whole body was encased, and all at once she felt muscles relax and unwind.

Gentle hands carted through her hair. When they encountered a knot, the digits spent time untangling it, then work to the end of the strands. Liquid warmth poured over Lonnie’s head, dripping down her neck and shoulders and sending shivers throughout the rest of her body; such a sharp contrast to the coolness below it was.

The fingers worked their way to the ends, then started again at the roots. Lonnie didn’t know if she made a sound, but her ears twitched when someone started humming behind her. They made their way up and down, slowly massaging her scalp in gentle circles. When they stopped, Lonnie was sure she whined, but the hands moved hair around until she felt a lightness in her shoulders; the strands now collected together in thin braids.

Though that was the only time she felt the liquid warmth running through her hair, the coolness that encased the rest of her body returned frequently. Each time it did, she felt things become more corporeal. Smudges began to have more well-defined edges, sounds formed full words, and touches became more concrete.

Gradually, bit by bit, the noise in her head quietened. It never fully disappeared, but she knew it was what she wanted when the sound of singing entered her ears. Never had such a sweet sound found its way into her mind. She grabbed it and latched on tightly.

When the world around her darkened, Lonnie felt herself being lowered until she was prone. A moment passed, then numerous warm bodies piled up and pressed against her. One on either side, another laying gently on her chest, another’s warm breath tickling her toes.

The nights were cold, but she didn’t feel any of it.

Neytiri embraced her mother when the Ikran settled enough for Mo’at to dismount. The beast recognised the smell of another Omatikaya, and was rather confused as to why it was in such a strange place. Mo’at patted her mount’s flank, then returned her daughters hug, wrapping her own arms around her.

“My daughter, I had hoped, but not expected, to see you so soon.” Mo’at’s large eyes grew wider when she spotted the figures walking across the sand to meet her. She shooed Neytiri to the side, then watched the heavily pregnant daughter of one of her oldest friends walking with her mate.

Ronal and Tonowari stopped before their visitor, greeting the foreign Tsahìk. Even after so many years, Mo’at could still see her late friend’s features carved into Ronal’s face. “I am sorry about your mother, she went with Eywa too soon.” The woman gestured from her forehead.

Ronal dipped her head in acknowledgement. The last time she had seen the Omatikaya’s Tsahìk was many years prior, just before she mated with Tonowari. The pestilence that swept through the village hit the healers the hardest, her mother especially. She had spoken with her mother many times through the bond with the Spirit Tree, but it didn’t make her corporeal loss any less painful.

Tonowari noticed his mate’s distant expression. “Please, we are honoured to have you as our guest.” He lay his hand flat against his chest and bowed. Ronal’s hand slotted itself into his other one. He squeezed it tightly.

They gestured back to the village, then turned to lead them back. Neytiri went to follow them when her mother grasped her gently. She turned to the woman questioningly. Mo’at nodded for her to remain there for a moment, then opened her saddle bag and pulled out a thin black box. Its metal frame was cold in her hands, the casing solid except for a small square opening on either end.

Neytiri looked confused. She examined the box again, but couldn’t make sense of the device. Mo’at didn’t look like she had much more context either. “Normspellman asked me to give this to your mate. He spoke about a stick with the girl’s memories. I do not know what it is, but he said he sent instructions to Jake.”

Neytiri nodded. The mother and daughter pair hurried to catch up with the Olo’eyktan and Tsahìk, who were waiting on the flaxen walkways. Mo’at found herself enjoying the springiness of path. She smiled at the thought of how much fun her youngest granddaughter would’ve had jumping on them.

Mo’at knelt slowly in front of Lonnie. The girl was propped up against the wall of the Mauri, watching the beach vacantly. Neteyam and Tuktirey walked along the sand, picking up shells and trinkets for a hair tie Tuk wanted to give to Lonnie. The woman smiled at her granddaughter’s kindness, and her grandson for being so willing to participate.

She looked down to Lonnie. Her arms were blotched with lighter patches; hard tissue that had formed over burn marks. The slow rate of breathing unnerved Mo’at almost as much as how still she was.

Kiri and Spider both said she hadn’t moved much in the days since the battle. Spider had tried to get her to eat, volunteering to help lift the food for her, passing her water to drink. She barely took any of it. Kiri privately spoke of how she was worried how much Lonnie’s unresponsiveness affected Spider. He was truly concerned for his friend. Of course, the boy brushed it off when approached, but Mo’at too could see the way his shoulders slumped when Lonnie remained silent and still.

She meditated on the best course of action the afternoon she arrived in the reef village, going to speak with Ronal about her opinions too, though the woman was still mostly occupied with moving the injured home from the outpost they had been treated at. Neytiri had tearfully filled her in on the events of the previous days; the preparation, the battle and the fear.

Mo’at hadn’t been there when Jake was moved back into their Marui, but from the way her daughter didn’t wish to speak about his condition, she knew she shouldn’t broach the subject. A cursory glance had told her the extent of his injuries. They were serious, but not life threatening.

Neytiri’s fretting had her sent out of the pod to spend time with her children; she was helping Lo’ak with his target shooting. Mo’at gently hinted for Kiri to take Spider out for the afternoon, and Neteyam followed Tuk to the water’s edge. She was left in the pod with Jake asleep on the floor and Lonnie staring absently.

Mo’at examined the paste Ronal had given her a small jar of. She could make out several of the ingredients, but decided to scavenge what she could to make the recipe she was more familiar with. It didn’t smell good, far from it, but it was effective.

A minute twitch of muscle below skin was the only indication Mo’at got that Lonnie felt her arm being lifted.

With gentle and practised hands, Mo’at massaged the paste into the scars. She pressed deep into the muscle to try and relieve some of the tension there, making small circles with her thumbs. The paste slowly sunk into Lonnie’s skin. It broke down the hard scabs into a much softer tissue, blending the bleached colour with the rest of the girl’s stripes.

Many hours passed over the following days with Mo’at working over Lonnie’s body. She pressed firmly but gently into the streaks across her back; the worst of the physical abuse had occurred there. Lonnie didn’t protest. In fact, Mo’at swore she heard the girl emit a pleasant hum once.

She smiled when she once saw Lonnie’s finger minutely tapping to the tune she hummed. It was a tune that she used to sing before Sylwanin and Neytiri went to sleep when they were children.

The biggest change happened when Mo’at brought Lonnie to the water. Tuk had spent hours telling her about their time in Awa’atlu before the battle, and one of the stories that came up was how good Lonnie was at holding her breath.

It was something she learnt as Tsakarem from the Tayrangi clan. Their cliffside village dropped to a nearby low-lying rock plateau, peppered with holes and rock pools. The waves caused surges of water to bubble up from below, creating an almost constant upward flow. The clan used the foaming pools to clean themselves, and as a place of relaxation. Jake had called them spas.

With her granddaughter’s assistance, Mo’at manoeuvred Lonnie to the edge of a rock spit. Careful to avoid the more sharp and jagged rocks, they lowered her into the water. The waves lapped up her skin, gradually moving higher the deeper she went. Kiri helped situate her on the sandy seabed, then turned to her grandmother.

The woman asked her to heat a bowl of water and bring out some soap. Mo’at watched Lonnie’s reaction as Kiri ran off. The girl’s head had lulled back onto the rock, eyes closed and face pointed towards the sun. Mo’at could see the way her neck muscles loosened, no longer pulling at her skull.

Kiri returned soon after with the requested items. They spoke of their time apart as Mo’at sat at Lonnie’s back, the girl still in the water. She moved her fingers slowly through the matted hair; salt and grime crusting over most of it. The warm water rinsed the soapy lather down her neck and off her shoulders into the sea. Kiri helped to untangle as much as they could, then set about plaiting small braids to keep Lonnie’s hair tidy.

Kiri even managed to sneak in a bead she carved the week prior.

Mo’at returned with Lonnie to the rocky spit every day over the next week. She didn’t wash Lonnie’s hair again, there was no need, but each trip brought about another level of awareness Lonnie didn’t previously have. Her eyes focussed when things moved before her, she smiled at the sound of singing, and she noticed when things touched her.

Kiri and Tsireya would often join them in the water, though only when Tsireya was able to get away from Lo’ak’s gawking. The girls giggled at his obliviousness to his own actions; it felt good to laugh after everything.

After every session, in the evening, Mo’at would bring Lonnie back to the Marui. They’d eat dinner with the rest of the family, Jake now able to sit up for longer. Mo’at saw the way he looked at his daughter; there was nothing but love in that gaze. It made her feel satisfied in her work.

At the end of the day, they’d all lie down together, everyone surrounding Lonnie. Tuk took prime position in using Lonnie as a pillow, her quiet snores melding with the washing of the waves below. Mo’at watched the family sleep, then closed her eyes too.

The moments Jake treasured the most were the ones he held onto for dear life, the good and the bad. The birth of every one of his children, loosing his legs, the death of his brother, mating with Neytiri and being transferred to his Avatar. The most recent one was finding Lonnie; after he recovered enough be aware of his surroundings after his injuries.

His bones creaked and muscles ached from lying prone for so long, but once the stabbing pain in his stomach subsided after many days of rest, he finally tried to sit up. Neytiri was by his side in an instant, carefully guiding him upright.

Jake winced when his calf tightened, pulling at the stitching. His mate made it clear in no uncertain terms that he was not to try standing. Ronal reiterated that point when she came to visit later.

With him up and mostly functional, Tonowari visited to fill him in on the aftermath of the battle. He’d been unconscious through most of the funeral rights for those who had perished, and the cleanup efforts were ongoing. The fate of the human survivors had yet to be decided, but a meeting of Tonowari’s highest ranking advisors, Jake included, had been called now that the man was awake. They would decide if the group would be left stranded on an island, sent back to Bridgehead as a sign of mercy, or something far more sinister.

The conversation went long enough for Jake to feel his energy rapidly fading. Neytiri said it was expected and went to shoo the chief from their pod to lay him down.

Jake sent her a quick glance, asking her to wait a moment. “And what about our house arrest?” It took more effort than he wanted to admit to meet Tonowari’s gaze.

The chief merely smiled and walked away.

He passed Mo’at and Kiri bringing Lonnie back into the pod. The first time he’d seen her after the battle, she’d been almost completely catatonic. Now he liked the healthier flush of her skin and how she seemed more aware of her surroundings. He was happy their sacrifices hadn’t been in vain.

Mo’at lowered Lonnie to her usual place at the edge of the Marui, where a blanket had been piled into a more comfortable seat. She bid them good evening, then left to work with Ronal; the Metkayina Tsahìk had invited her to dinner.

Lonnie rested her head against the wall and closed her eyes. The slow events of the day sped through her mind too rapidly to comprehend in such a short amount of time. The cool water of the ocean crystalised, the liquid evaporating and leaving its salt behind. She enjoyed being able to feel something on her skin.

A quiet voice reached her ears, something soft, almost timid. Lonnie felt her ears twitch when she recognised the sound. It was her name. Yes, she knew that. One eye pried itself open, followed slowly by the other. The bright lights brought too much information to her mind, but the voices didn’t rise; they hadn’t for days now.

The blue smudge came into focus the closer it got. It pulled itself across the floor to reach her. She didn’t have the energy to move away, so she stayed and watched.

Finally, a face came into view. She knew this one. Crow’s feet forming at the corner of his eyes, a worried, yet hopeful look. Striking yellow eyes.

The word was instinctive, “Dad?”

The Marui was bubbling with excitement the night Jake finally managed to decipher Norm’s cryptic instructions. With a little help from Spider, the only one correctly proportioned for the RDA’s technology, they had Jake’s laptop setup on a crate with the strange black box Mo’at brought connected to it through a thin cable. The occupants spread out in a semicircle, with Lonnie at the centre.

Jake accepted the fragile drive Lonnie handed him and carefully inserted it into the port on the side of the box. He sat back on his haunches, ready and waiting for the device to finish booting.

“I have no idea how Norm knew what this drive thing was.” Lo’ak looked at the innocuous shiny stick.

The man glanced up to his son momentarily, “Well, thanks to our anonymous tipper, he knew what to send.” Jake looked to Spider as he finished speaking, a small smile gracing his face.

The boy dipped his head, but he couldn’t hide the bashful grin that spread up the sides of his cheeks. Kiri looked down at her friend in awe, pulling him close to her and wrapping her arm around his back. He smiled back at her.

Lo’ak tugged the back of Spider’s mask playfully. Spider spun and almost jumped on the other boy to grab his tail. Neteyam, Kiri and Tuk cheered loudly from the sidelines whilst the three adults watched with indescribable fondness.

Gradually they settled down again and repositioned themselves around the laptop. Jake clicked through files until he found the ones on Lonnie’s drive. There were hundreds of thousands, maybe millions of them, each a small part of the girl’s life from before.

“You ready?”

Lonnie nodded, not sure she’d been more ready for anything else before.

Things that happened years ago and lightyears away, things that were stolen from her and barely scraped back, all ready in neat little packages, waiting to be played. Lonnie stared at the screen, feeling apprehension begin to bubble up, but also curiosity. She didn’t know what they would contain, but she knew they were hers, and that she wanted to share them. She glanced up to her dad’s old photo, pinned to the wall.

The memories inscribed on the drive by science beyond her comprehension weren’t the ones in her head; they were the past, and she would make new ones to fill their place.

With her dad by her side and her family at her back, she hovered over the first entry, and pressed play.

And she remembered.

Chapter Text

“You remember what to do?”

Lonnie couldn’t quite quell the anxiety that rose to her chest, but she nodded once. Her father’s hand fell from her shoulder to her back, gently guiding her forward. The waterfall crashed down the edge of the mountain and into the abyss of the open air below, wetting the mountain as it went. The narrow ledge they shimmied across had sent many a prospective warrior sailing down to the trees below, breaking their falls on the canopy.

She would’ve preferred Lo’ak not to tell her that, but his mad cackles had betrayed no malice.

Now, watching the water plummet down, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she may be joining those unlucky few.

The firm pressure of her dad’s hand on her back kept her moving forward. It was enough to stop her body from following her mind off the edge. The climb up hadn’t been this bad, she just couldn’t look down.

Shuffling one foot in front of the other, she made her way through and out of the caves, into the enormous rookery. The screeches of Ikran filled her ears, disturbing the air with their high-pitched calls. Many flew between large nests with small clutches of eggs within, some roosting atop their unborn young. Others, the larger ones, carried the half-devoured carcasses of Talioang in their mouths and claws, bringing food back for the wider community.

Even just the ones laying on the terraced stone were too many to count. They raised their heads and hissed at the intruders, but Lonnie kept walking forwards. She’d been told, by many people, that this is what she should expect.

Slowly, she unravelled the Yìmkxa from her waistband and held the long binding out. The weighted end swayed as she moved, and she cringed slightly at the thought of it hitting a living being.

Lonnie looked to the sky when an especially loud cry echoed across the mountain. She spotted Neytiri and her Ikran circling overhead, the noise coming from a wild banshee that almost flew into them.

She smiled when the woman’s annoyed scowl brightened at their brief eye contact. Neytiri let out a short yip and held her bow high in support.

Jake chuckled quietly at Lonnie’s back, “Not like Neytiri to lose focus flying. You’re seeing a bunch of firsts today!”

The girl hushed her dad with a smile on her face, then turned back to the banshees. Several curled protectively around their nests, and many screeched and took flight when they got too close. The duo jumped from terrace to terrace, Jake always following behind his daughter at just the right distance to leap to her aid if need be.

Although judging by the hisses she returned, that wouldn’t be necessary. Ever his daughter.

She did well to hide the faint droop of her ears as they pushed more Ikran back, but having done this with three of his children already, he knew it could become disheartening when none immediately showed a bond.

But Lonnie didn’t let up. She lunged when some snarled at her. Hissed back when others racked their teeth forwards. But the small girl always got them flying away.

The nests were a no-go, that much was such an important message that four different people had told her, but that didn’t stop her from weaving distantly between them on the rocky mountaintop.

Until one dropped before her.

Kiri had taken great pleasure in recounting how Lo’ak froze when his Ikran finally confronted him. The way the creature hissed and snarled, ready for a confrontation, whilst Lo’ak stood stock still, almost losing his balance in the slight shift of the wind.

And that was his second attempt. The first one had him throw from the mountain and onto a ledge. That was a story no one in the family liked to tell.

Lonnie had promised herself that she wouldn’t do the same, but the sight of one finally challenging her had her falling back to instinct.

Many hours she had spent with her father and other warriors honing her fighting abilities. If there was anything good to come out of her ordeal with the RDA, it was the enormous hand-to-hand combat knowledge they implanted in her mind. The hard part was not letting anything rise from her subconscious to take control, but the deliberate movement and strikes grounded her.

She’d taken down nearly every warrior the Omatikaya had.

But no plan held up to first contact.

The Ikran spread its wings and roared. Black stripes encompassed a bright orange circle on both wings, forming enormous eyes that stared back at her. The curved claws that could rip through steel glinted in the sunlight and clacked when they rejoined the stone.

It racked its teeth forward with an almighty hiss. Its subsequent growls shook the ground on which Lonnie stood, but she slid her foot back to stabilise herself, and they began to circle one another.

The clack clack of claws contrasted with whisper quiet pacing of Lonnie’s feet, but neither party advanced. Lonnie felt her hackles rise with the snarl that matched the Ikran’s own. She forced her body to loosen, ready to launch the Yìmkxa and spring when it lunged.

And lunge it did.

Lonnie ducked under the advance of the Ikran, rolling forwards below its wing. The beast stalled and flicked its head side to side, looking for the girl. She swung upwards with a strong punch to its neck, and it flinched to the side with a quick whack.

The translucent skin at the end of its wings swung down when it realised where she was, but the teeth that followed were too slow to grab the end of her tail.

Lonnie cringed when she jabbed her thumb into the sinuous fibres at the base of a claw, hearing the growls become a brief shriek. The Ikran folded and held that side close to its body. The motion uncovered Lonnie and she rolled again to the side to avoid another snap.

Her back ran up against stone and her body juddered at the shock. In the time it took her to recover, the Ikran had advanced and made for another lunge.

“Lonnie get up!”

The call of her name shook her head enough for her to scramble to the side. The Ikran levelled its wings and charged headfirst into where she had been, now only rock present.

Jake cringed from his elevated position at the sickening crack, but the Ikran looked uninjured.

Lonnie took the chance to whip the Yìmkxa over its jaw. The weighted end came up and tied the creature’s jaw shut. She scrambled for the end of its Kuru and hastily joined it with her own.

Both their movements stopped, and they relaxed as one.

Female.

She was female.

Lonnie puffed deeply from the exertion, her chest heaving up and down from her slumped place on the ground. Air whooshed from the Ikran’s chest as she matched Lonnie’s breathing. They slowly made eye contact, and Lonnie couldn’t help the smile the rose onto her face.

“Haha, you’re a pretty girl, aren’t you? Gave me a good run for my money.” Lonnie spoke softly as she gently unwrapped the Yìmkxa from her Ikran’s mouth. The creature preened at the praise, sending pleased chatters through the bond.

Slowly and shakily, she stood with the help of her new companion. Lonnie could feel the headache blossoming in the Ikran’s head, and she couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. The creature sent reassuring thoughts back to the girl.

She had a thick skull she assured Lonnie.

Another pattering of feet pulled her attention to the side. Her dad sprinted over with a proud yet urgent expression. He reached them and pushed Lonnie to mount the Ikran’s neck. “You need to fly now. It seals the bond.” Jake urged them both towards the edge of the mountain.

“But she’s dazed, she shouldn’t fl- AHHH!”

Jake fell backwards to avoid the end of the wing that came slicing past. Lonnie and the Ikran tumbled off the edge and into the air, the girl gripping the Kuru for dear life to save herself from a fall.

Neytiri dived after them, yipping urgently for Lonnie to control herself. Screaming was not normally considered an effective flying technique.

He smiled at his mate and daughter, then vocalised for Bob. His own Ikran flew down from an outcrop, stooping down to allowing Jake to mount. They took flight too, plummeting down to catch up with Lonnie. Bob tucked his wings in, and Jake flattened himself, Ionar visor shielding most of the oncoming wind.

Lonnie’s flailing and spinning slowed her descent, but not enough. They were falling below the base of the mountains and into open air.

“Wings out Lonnie! Wings out!”

“AHH! Wings out!” The Ikran’s wings snapped open, arresting their fall. Instead of plummeting, they were only in a steep nosedive towards the ground.

Jake rapidly caught up and dived with Neytiri beside the new rider. He called across, “Do you want to end up crashing?!” The wind whipped away Lonnie’s response, but he could still make out her rapidly shaking her head. “Then pull up!”

The Ikran twisted its wings and pitched backwards, levelling off into the oncoming air. The racing wind slowed as they glided, and Jake couldn’t help but call out at the delighted look of his daughter. “You’re flying Lonnie!”

Neytiri raised her bow again and hollered at the sky. Bob chirped at Lonnie’s new Ikran. The girl shuffled forwards until she didn’t feel like she’d slip off at the slightest crosswind. She dropped her feet to perch on the edge of the breathing-holes when she remembered that’s what she was told to do; lean in the opposite direction of banking and speak in her mind of where to go.

It’s all Lo’ak and Kiri could talk about; how to fly an Ikran, and how they would teach her “properly” when she claimed hers. Apparently Toruk Makto himself wasn’t as good at flying as they were.

Lonnie had rolled her eyes fondly.

She tucked her heals in to mimic the stance of her dad. She didn’t know how he hadn’t got back problems from leaning so far over.

Jake and Neytiri swooped down to fly on either side, guiding her through the floating mountains and vines. She’d flown before, but never by herself.

The sense of freedom poured itself over her, moving through every vein and down every nerve until she was made of it. Her Ikran shivered in delight.

As the crest of the Eclipse made itself known to the world, the trio soared through the skies of Pandora, travelling high and fast through the air. They crossed the edge of the plains that bordered the Hallelujah Mountains, passed low under the densest canopies, then rose again when High Camp came into view.

Flying beneath the waterfall that shielded the entrance, Lonnie tilted her head back and let the mist cool her sweaty and wind-burnt face. Her Ikran fluttered her wings at the sudden coolness.

They passed through the entrance cavern, going to where the Ikran tended to roost. That’s where the others would be waiting for them.

Neytiri, Jake and Lonnie came in to land at the edge of the cavern, one touchdown less coordinated than the others, yet Lonnie couldn’t help the beaming smile that made its way across her cheeks when she spotted her siblings running up to them.

“Holy… That thing could eat you alive!” Lo’ak’s eyes grew to the size of plates as he gawked at the landing Ikran. Kiri elbowed her brother sharply. He winced and went to shove her back, but Spider came up behind them and pulled their jostling apart. The human hissed quietly at his friends, and they turned their eyes down in embarrassment.

Jake swung his leg from Bob’s back and went to Lonnie’s side, holding her Ikran’s head still enough for her not to fall immediately when she disconnected.

“Naw, she’s just a big softy, aren’t you?” Lonnie dismounted with a slight wobble, then turned to scratch vigorously below her Ikran’s chin. Tuk jumped back with a delighted shriek when the creature’s back leg started thumping the ground happily. Lonnie laughed with the little girl, “She’s a bit dazed; ran headfirst into a rock.”

That had them all laughing now, Jake the hardest.

Spider sidled up to his friend. He stared up in awe at the Ikran. Kiri reached over to lift his jaw from the ground, shaking him back to reality. Spider looked back sheepishly, then turned to Lonnie, “Lo’ak’s not wrong. She almost looks like Toruk. Congrats.” The corners of the human boy’s lips pulled up into a smile when he glanced from the new Ikran to its rider.

Lonnie looked to her friend. A silent conversation passed between them, initiated by the slumped curve of Spider’s shoulders.

He noticed what she had. Pulling his back up straight, he brushed it off, “I’ve had enough time to come to terms with things.”

Lonnie felt her heart clench at his resigned expression. “Just know that you’ll be the first one to fly with me. Promise.”

Spider smiled back.

“Perhaps you should practice a bit by yourself first. Passengers can come later.” Neytiri dropped her hand to Lonnie’s shoulder. “You did very well, my child.”

“So well, that I think you deserve this…” Jake reappeared amongst the group with a wrapped parcel in his hands.

Gently, he passed it to Lonnie, who looked up questioningly. Her dad merely smiled back, and she turned to Neytiri for confirmation. The woman nodded once. Slowly, Lonnie moved her hands over the paper-thin covering; a material Kiri said was good for wrapping and preserving food in. It crinkled beneath the pads of her fingers as she traced the outline.

“Open it, open it!” Tuk jumped up and down rapidly, clapping her hands together in excitement.

Lonnie glanced around to the rest of her family. They all shared the same knowing looks.

The wrapping fell away to the ground, leaving a thin curved band wrapped in stitched leather in her hands. Lenses made of iridescent insect wings were attached to the front, just beside a small nose piece.

An Ionar visor, intricately crafted and delicate to the touch, but strong enough to shield her eyes when she flew. Lonnie stared and stared. She couldn’t believe the workmanship that went into it.

“Well, put it on.” Jake gathered the wrapping from the ground and held it in his crossed arms.

Lonnie looked over, then gingerly, so as not to break the item, lifted it up to her face and slotted it against her ears. It fit perfectly. The light that made it this far into the mountain often reflected off the pool of water the Ikran drank from, but the lenses filtered everything out, leaving a clear view of her surrounds; it was perfect for flying.

“I- I don’t know what to say. Thank you.” Lonnie removed the visor and looked at it in awe. Jake pulled Neytiri into his side, the latter resting her head on his shoulder.

“C’mon bro, we should take a picture.” Spider jumped and gestured to the huts, where Max’s camera resided.

Tuk clearly loved the idea, for she sprung up, squealing with glee, and pulled Lonnie with her.

“Woah, slow down there. She’s not going to disappear.” Jake placed a gentle hand on his youngest’s shoulder to stop her from pulling Lonnie’s arm from its socket.

Tuk humphed, but relented.

They gathered at the entrance of their hut, falling into line whilst Neteyam went to get their grandmother. When he returned with the older woman, the other children laughed out and went to pull her in.

Jake set up the camera on a makeshift tripod, then quickly fell back to the rest of the family. Lonnie put her Ionar visor back on and slotted herself in next to Spider, who was in between herself and Kiri. Neteyam crouched beside Tuk, with Lo’ak lying across the ground. Neytiri stood with her mother on one side, and Jake took his place on the other.

“Oh whoops.” Jake turned to the Ikran and whistled sharply. Lonnie’s new companion looked over, then slowly padded to them. She took her place at the very back of the group.

The man called, “Say Lonnie!”

“Lonnie!” Everyone cheered as the flash went off.

The camera was an old-time Polaroid that Max fished from the humans’ storage boxes from Hell’s Gate, and it whirred and hummed as the photo emerged from the side. Lonnie ran forwards to grab it. She watched with bated breath as the image began to appear. The rest of the family crowded around her to see too.

“That’s a good one.” Jake placed his hand on his daughter’s shoulder and grinned down at her. “I think we have a couple more pins left.”

They all followed the man into the hut and helped search through the small boxes that could hold the pins. Neteyam eventually found them, only a few remaining, and handed one to Lonnie.

Lonnie paced over to the wall and raised the photo to it, pushing the bone through the paper then stepping back. The photo wall started out with screenshots of her memories that Norm managed to get his rickety old printer working for, but it gradually evolved to include any image of the family.

The moments she loved the most from her archive of memories were screenshotted and printed, then carefully tacked to the dedicated wall of the hut. Images of Earth, a few rolling green hills, giant cityscapes, her old school, the few friends she made through the years, her room, with her father’s photo sitting on the bedside table.

They may not exist within her head, but the memories lived all the same, and this way she could share them with everyone.

Those photos clustered together in the centre. Surrounding them were the… more interesting choices. Tuk had developed an obsession the moment she laid eyes on what Jake called a dog. It was small and furry, and apparently Earth had a rather large stray problem, so they were everywhere. Lonnie had subsequently permitted Tuk to look through all her memories for pictures of dogs so she could print them. Now the bottom corner of the wall was covered in pictures of the furry animals.

And that was before Tuk discovered the existence of cats.

Other images, ones not from Lonnie’s memories, filled the rest of the space; Lo’ak and Tsireya leaving to go on a date, taken candidly by a rather pleased looking Kiri, whose face appeared in the bottom corner. Spider and Lonnie during their many adventures through the forest, often accompanied by the other siblings.

Neteyam had developed a liking for taking pictures of the family going about their daily life; Neytiri cutting food for the evening meal, Jake cleaning his rifle, Tuk dancing to a rhythm Lo’ak tapped out.

Lonnie loved them all.

The newest addition rested beside her most treasured photo. It had two people in it, both elderly. The man was sitting with a book laying in his lap, and the woman perched on the edge of the armchair, oven gloves covered in flour. They both smiled brightly at her. Martin and Samantha; she knew their names.

She touched the edge of the image gently and whispered, “Thank you.”