Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was an odd feeling.

The looks, the whispers… the judgement that lay in everyone’s eyes who saw her. The feeling made her want to flee and retreat back into the shadows to avoid it. To get away from the suffocating feeling.

Alma felt like an outsider in her own home now. Nowhere to run to and everyone to run from. This was her new reality.

Even five days had passed since her avatar’s death and one Mercer had died in that explosion… she had resisted taking the ride to meet the kids at the oversight despite the… reluctant offer Anqa gave. So she turned it down. She wasn’t wanted there and… she didn’t wish to talk to the kids. Not that she didn’t want to but none of them had tried to seek her out since Ri’nela had buried her avatar. Never tried to cross paths and if they had to, they ignored her, even as she hoped to catch their eye but… that hope was fading.

Maybe they would… eventually.

How long would it take for them to look at her? Let alone talk to her? Ri’nela’s anger was palpable and it made her nervous to be around that. Her side still had the phantom sensations of Nor’s blade which bristled whenever she got close or near to a riled or fast-moving Na’vi.

Her headache was fading now as the severing link had caused some backlash but now she was medically cleared by Nalin and had no other concerns beyond getting her weight up and the human body cared for.

But that was for later. Alma’s fingers tapped absentmindedly along the edge of her shitty office. Just a private area where a rickety table was set up with a monitor and supplies.

In essence, her resignation as leader of the Western Resistance. No good reputation, people unwilling to talk to her, let alone follow her requests and no avatar. She had no power here. No respect. Better to… hand it over and be done before it was pulled from her desperate hands.

That had to be the right step, right?

It had to show she wasn’t desperate or too prideful… and sooner or later, they would replace her. Not if, when. Who they’d replace her with, she didn’t know but she had sent a notice to Norm about the change of leadership and was awaiting his reply.

On her tablet, she had written out all that she knew for the next leader; what they needed to memorise, other resistance contacts, resistant locations, supply lockers and importantly, all the passwords. She didn’t change them since they were secure but she wouldn’t tell anyone the meaning behind them, most were dates of personal importance. They’d be more secure in the next leader’s hands without context.

Her fingers paused before she sat back in her chair, blowing out a huff of air before she turned the tablet off and reached for her cup. A tea of sorts, now made human-safe but didn’t taste overly good to her in this body. In her avatar, the flavours were deep and floral and just… content. Her favourite tea. Now it was more bitter and had a more sour undertone with the treatments they put it through to make it safe.

Shame she couldn’t drink it normally and be done with it. Everyone would want that.

Alma winced at the thought, guilt rising to the surface. No, she shouldn’t…think like that. Even if it crossed her mind before, it wouldn’t do anything in her favour. She’d be seen as too much of a coward to die by her own hand before she could try and redeem herself. The easy way out… validating those who hate her that she couldn’t cope with her loss of control… and the loss of the Sarentu.

She set the cup down, tittering a little at the undertone and the coldness and pushed herself to her feet. Tucking the tablet under her arm, she slowly made her away from the sanctity of her refuge and ventured out.

Her skin felt like crawling as the familiar sensation of eyes bore into her. Her gaze remained mostly on the floor as she walked, her cheeks heating a little but she kept her pace brisk and purposeful. She found a mask, slipped it on and sucked in the scentless, filtered air before she stepped into the airlock and the breeze of the exchange ruffled her clothes as she strolled through the large space towards the other door and soon enough, it opened straight to Teylan.

Teylan jumped back, his eyes turning wide for a moment before he dropped his gaze and looked away from her with a frown.

“Teylan, I-“ Alma opened her mouth to speak.

“No.” Teylan shook his head, sharply interrupting her in a strained voice. “Just… please, no.”

Alma’s shoulders sunk, stepping out of the airlock and letting him pass in but she watched him for as long as the doors remained open but he didn’t look back at all, just grabbed a CO2 canister and scurried away from her.

That didn’t feel good.

Her hands gripped the tablet, swallowing down her unease as she let her eyes wander across the Na’vi set up outside. Kame’tire also looked like they had settled with the few Zeswa and Aranahe who had made the trip and were settling but there was a lot more than she expected to see. Fires had more kindling being stocked, food qualities had grown and she could see large wheels of cheese from the Zeswa being tended to by a dairy crafter and the cooks by the fire.

Instruments were piling up and… there was no mistake there was a build-up of an event happening. A party?

Her eyes found Ri’nela directing a few people with stuff about, Na’vi and humans alike and clearly in her element. She knew Ri’nela had taken over her role before when she had been injured and had done so well and it was clear to see her assessment of her was correct; Ri’nela would make a good leader someday.

The tablet felt heavier in her arms now.

Was this something she could just… hand off onto Ri’nela’s shoulders? She didn’t exactly plan to give Ri’nela the mantle but to ask her to find the right person for the job. She doubted anyone would accept if she asked them directly so.. she couldn’t be the one to decide.

So’lek would have been one of her options if she didn’t know for certain he planned to leave the resistance when they no longer needed him. he was here for the cause… and for the kids. She didn’t expect Ri’nela to take the mantle either given her training to be Tsahìk for the Sarentu and there was a feeling that the Sarentu would walk away from the Resistance at some point.

It hurt to think… but it was the only logical course the kids would have to develop and retake their places.

Soon, they wouldn’t be needed.

Redundant.

Like her.

Alma pushed those thoughts aside again and forced herself to move ahead.

Haheylì was the first to notice her, touching Ri’nela’s elbow and pulling her attention to her approach and… Alma resisted the urge to stop and turn as the Tsakarem’s eyes narrowed in displeasure and a tightening of her jaw.

Her heart thudded heavily in her chest, her stomach feeling queasier and her side ached a little. They weren’t Nor, she had to remind herself; their hands weren’t by their weapons.

So’lek was about, seated by the fire but she was aware his attention was her way as well, probably (and hopefully) keeping things from escalating.

“Cortez, what do you want?” Ri’nela was a little blunt, “We’re a little busy right now.”

Her mouth felt parched but she kept her gaze steady. “I noticed. A party for celebrating Mercer’s downfall no doubt.”

Ri’nela hummed once to confirm it but it was clearly very closed to her.

Honestly, Alma hadn’t kept up to notice the resistance do it themselves inside but it did explain why she was mostly left to her own devices since she got up. She hadn’t noticed. She loosened her grip on the tablet, offering it out to her.

Ri’nela’s eyes dropped to the tablet in her hands sceptically. “What is that?” She didn’t take it.

“I… figured that once things began to settle now that the RDA aren’t currently around that I’d be asked to step down from my position Jake left me in.” She said tightly, not meeting Ri’nela’s eyes. “My resignation, so to speak.”

Haheylì stared at her intently in surprise. “You’re… actually just handing it over?” she sounded almost unconvinced.

“No one’s listening to me anymore,” Alma responded back. “I can’t lead them… not any more. Not without my avatar and—“ She didn’t finish, flustering as Ri’nela scoffed a little with a shake of her head.

“Your position here was never about your avatar,” Ri’nela stated, waving her hand about a little. “You got the job because you knew the area and had a way in with the Aranahe. Nothing more.”

Alma gritted her teeth, forcing away her frustration at the rebuke. “I’ve already informed Norm at High camp in the Eastern Resistance about my change of position. He’ll be expecting news of my replacement by the end of tomorrow evening. The Password is 040536. Don’t leave it lying around unless you want to compose the safety of the resistance.”

Ri’nela didn’t take it, and neither did Haheylì but Alma just set it down on their log and walked away, feeling the glare get more intense but there was no shouting after her by the time she slunk into the airlock.

It was empty, allowing her to let out a deep, shaky breath. It was fine… she was fine.

Once shit was sorted… things would settle further but she had her science background to fall back on at the very least. Studying the Na’vi… the world, she could return to that. She wouldn’t be completely redundant out here. A job she could keep to herself. As lonely as it was, it would be enough for now.

It had to be.

The other door opened and she discarded her mask back into the usual spot and headed towards the kitchen for some food. It was almost empty, aside from Anqa heating up a rations pack in the microwave and the polite barely gave her a look as she took a protein bottle and a simple ration bag and sat at the available seat beside the table to be out of the way. She didn’t bother heating it, just ate it cold. Unappealing either way but it wasn’t like there was a lot of options until they did a salvage at some old RDA sites.

“Oh, Anqa!” Priya’s voice echoed as she strolled in, “Jason wants a word with you and Jax. He and the others are talking and want your input.”

Anqa’s posture stiffened a little, looking at her sharply and made a very odd noise.

Priya’s head cocked in confusion. “What?”

“Never mind.” Anqa pulled the bag from the microwave, hissing before she dropped it onto a plate. “Oh, that’s…I did stupid.”

Priya giggled a little, her hand coming to Anqa’s. “I can kiss it better.”

Alma didn’t watch their PDA and glugged down her drink with a grimace at its flavour and discarded the packets into the bin.

She left the two to it, locating her mattress on the floor in the sleeping area, tucked out of sight but left otherwise alone so she sat down with a quiet huff and pulled her personal tablet out from under the pillow and pyjamas and settled down for some mindless reading. Too early to consider bedtime but downtime… she needed. Tomorrow, there might be a better plan in motion.

Maybe…if things didn’t improve, she could consider a field lab. Private, alone and she had a wider range of things to access without the looks. A tempting thought. She knew the Sarentu might actually be relieved at it too; they always looked to be on edge whenever they wandered. Because of her… most likely.

She did wish to speak to Teylan and explain to him her side but now it was clear he was setting boundaries with her and… not allowing it. She didn’t blame him but… she felt like she needed to talk to him.

Haheylì was the most… cool-headed about it out of all of them. Or perhaps neutral was the best word to describe it. Her interactions were distant and measured but not as cold as Ri’nela’s. Not as harsh either. She was tolerating her, if Alma had to guess but… it didn’t feel nice. Not that it overly mattered but it could lead to something later if she could catch her alone.

Alma’s fingers brushed lightly over the biometrics for her private files and she just found herself floating through some of the… old files. Not really from TAP, but personal video logs and photos that she had from her time there.

Mostly the images that appeared were of the same people. Her, Him and her.

She stopped on a single photo for a moment, her heart aching with a familiar sadness but…it felt good to feel that one.

It was a photo of her, fast asleep in her bed. Laying back with her arms splayed a little, the blankets half off her lower legs and the six-month-old baby fast asleep across her chest, conked out and one hand grasping into her vest and drooling into her breast, the baby’s dark curly hair wild.

Alma flickered to the next, a later photo of a man, bare-chested on their bed and frozen in the act of trying to pull the baby from his chest, her little fingers at his nipple and her mouth open. Mistaking it for one she could nurse from.

Her lips curled a little at the image, her throat tightening.

“Who’s that?”

Her head turned sharply to see… Jin-young looked to be settling on his own mattress, looking at her tablet as he pulled off his boots.

“My… husband, Michael and our second daughter, Hope.” She said, her voice cracking before she coughed to clear it.

Jin-young’s eyes widened. “You…were married? I had no idea you had kids”

Alma nodded softly, not sure how to really answer it. “Not anymore.” That itself would tell what happened.

Jin-young’s expression fell, looking genuinely apologetic. “I’m so sorry…”

Alma shrugged, “It's fine. I’ve… kept it to myself. Never saw reason to tell anyone.” She admitted, “They’ve been dead a while. Samson accident from TAP’s school to Hell’s Gate.” She added for context.

Jin-young’s eyes remained sad. “I’m sorry.”

Alma sighed deeply, flicking a new photo of Hope’s first birthday…and last. She’d be dead two days later. Still, she had...pushed that aside for a while… just to not feel that pain. It had been twenty-four years since that tragic day. Now was not a time for that grief either. Later.

“How did you cope?” Jin-young’s voice wavered.

“I had worked to do. Mercer didn’t allow for compassionate leave. Not for me, Not for even for Colonel Harding when her sister died in that crash. My classes with the kids were cancelled a day later after Aha’ri’s death for a week…. Yuayt committed suicide sometime after when the other kids turned on him for apparently ratting them out to Harding. I don’t remember a lot of that…my head wasn’t in the right place but I don’t know what the kids went through in that week once it all hit the fan.”

Jin-young’s face fell the more she spoke, highlighting how useless her words were for him.

“I’m sorry.” Alma offered him a tired look. “I can’t help you with your loss and pain.”

Jin-young nodded quickly. “Sorry for asking.”

They settled into silence so Alma just continued to flick through her tablet quietly.

“<Anitalee,>” The tall, Na’vi woman spoke as she pushed though the Na’vi tent flaps and bent down to her fellow clan mate who was looming a beautiful new piece for a cowl . “<We must discuss moving on, our presence makes the Hulanta clan too uneasy for further trading or interactions.>”

Anita’s head rose, her painted lips coming to a delicate downturn as her ruby eyes, only darkened by a little thirst lingered on the pale Na’vi for a second. “<They’re going back on the agreement, Sasta?>”

The agreement had been four weeks ago, work for supplies as the clan did not originally wish to host them with their human companions but they needed time to settle for Anela to give birth in peace. A compromise they had which almost always worked.

“<Mìtsreng almost bit the Olo’eyktan when they touched her by surprise this afternoon, they saw her teeth sharpen and eyes darken…>” Sasta spoke, her own thirsty-black eyes baring a little into her sire. “<Stories will spread. Na’vi will not understand my daughter’s nature. Half Na’vi, half vampire… it’s too much for them. We cannot stay. We must leave.”

Anita rose to her feet, setting her loom down with an intense seriousness which was a relief to see. “<When the others return from hunting in the next hour, we’ll get the tents together and the dire horses loaded up. We can travel northwest for a fresh land entirely. A new frontier. Let the people here cool their fears. We can come back in a few decades.>”

“<The Clouded Forest should be our next destination,” Sasta offered, her lips pulling up a little. “<Less Sun exposure, more fog is optimal for us. The Kame’tire are reclusive and should accept us to be on their land without interference. Hope will want to search through old sky-people homes that are in that region for food and information about her parents.>”

“<Sun down. We can travel in the dark without concerns.>”

It wasn’t an old discussion, they always spoke of their options if they had to leave or flee their hosting clan’s territory with a moment’s notice and it had been that way for nearly two decades since Anita had saved her from dying from a lanay'ka dart. She feared death and going to Eywa so soon and so she had agreed to it.

This new life came at a cost but one worth it despite the uncertainty that the woman’s vampire nature could continue on into a different species like the Na’vi. Her mate was still a mortal man while their children were birthed since lived between their two natures much like the human variants of Dhampyrs they had, favouring hers but with the warm heating heart of their father.

Still, they were nomadic for this very reason, their nature was too much for many Na’vi. Even if they never told them much, they sensed something was different.

“<I’ll hunt quickly so I can be at full strength. I’ll also pick some of those flowers and fruits that are safe for our humans.>” Sasta said, knowing it could be a while until they could properly find good food for them and the ever-present struggle but they always found something.

“<Okay.>”

Chapter Text

Haheylì watched as Ri’nela looked to be fuming, even as they helped sort out the caves and hand up new decorations to make it feel at home. It was subtle, with how her tail swished and her ears twitched even when she smiled and thanked those who helped. Haheylì however did keep the tablet Cortez dropped off for the sake of security and tucked it into her waist cloth.

Eventually, with everything done, food being prepped and musicians practising while they waited for more people to join before the party started up, Haheylì pulled Ri’nela off to the privacy of an off-shoot cave; already turned into a sparing ring for the Zeswa and currently empty. For how long was another matter but for now, it worked for them.

“<Talk to me, please>” her hand touched Ri’nela’s elbow, encouraging her to talk.

The scowl that crossed Ri’nela’s face was immediate and certainly directed to the person who wasn't there. “<I cannot believe her.>”

“<You think it was wrong?>”

Ri’nela scoffed a little. “<No but she could have waited until after our celebrations. This…” She gestured to the tablet. “<the moment I take control, all the burden is on my shoulders. I just want to celebrate our victory…. And I can’t if I have Resistant work to do.>”

Haheylì gave her friend a look. “<I can help. This matter is not to be decided tonight. One night unattended to will not compromise us. Cortez left everything locked behind firewalls and even the tablet is secured.>”

“<Not if you know her. The code to get into that is the date she first linked with her avatar. She told me that just after we got here. After the party, before you… escaped and joined us.>” Ri’nela shook her head in frustration. “<All her codes are dates of importance to her which she’s known for. The RDA can hazard a guess easily if they did their research.>”

“<The RDA isn’t going to crack it tonight. I will keep a hold of the tablet all night. It will not lose my sight. We can think up new codes tomorrow when we’re ready. One night, Ri’nela and then we can work on this.>” Haheylì hoped to assure her.

“<I don’t want to be Resistance leader. I am to be Tsahìk, I cannot just be their head as well.>”

“<Then we can find someone else. A temporary position until then but… perhaps it’s a good thing it’s no longer in Cortez’s hands.>” It hadn’t escaped her notice that the humans of the group had… stopped following Cortez’s words since they found out her part in TAP… and the lying to them. It would take time for them to actually start respecting Cortez to be properly civil with her.

The frustrations simmered more at that. “<I…suppose.>”

“We can ask wisdom from the other leaders as well on how to handle this too. Cortez will… probably lay low for a while. We’ve got our own healing to do and let’s do that away from her. I’m sure the other clans will open their homes for our visits in our efforts to reconnect with our past.” Haheylì suggested.

“Ah, fuck!”

Both of them were startled at the sound of items dropping and a thud, turning swiftly to see Jax sitting on the floor a few meters back, his mask sporting a mass of white cracks that covered the centre of his mask but thankfully, not breaking it. From the looks of it, the guy had walked into a stalactite and dropped a collection of firewood.

“Shit…shit, shit, shit…” his hands came to his mask, more or less blinded by the damage now. “Oh, I’m still breathing. Happy news for me and I’m ain’t seeing my granny too soon.”

Haheylì bent down. “Are you alright?”

“I’m alive, I’ll call that a win.” Jax was careful, pressing against the cracks but not testing it too hard. “Sorry… for disturbing you. So’lek wanted the fire pits ready. I thought I’d help…”

“Do you need help?” Haheylì offered, carefully grasping his hand and helping him up. His hands gripped hers nervously before he touched the wall and changed his grip to feel that.

“Er… a new mask, please.”

“Hang on.” She assured, though gave a swift nod to Ri’nela to stay with him, Haheylì headed away towards the airlock.

She passed Anqa who was speaking quietly with Jason but paid the two no mind since it looked like a minor argument, probably about maintenance of her Samson since Haheylì knew Jason did like to help with the repairs and scavenge for parts.

She couldn’t go straight in, waiting for the occupants to flush out first before she could enter but the door shut behind her before she could dash out with the new mask.

“Oh.. come on.” The far door opened, revealing a handful of Humans coming in, a few with treated injuries from the fight but they looked to be moving some supplies so she let them pass first before the change-over happened and they were all released out to the Pandoran atmosphere.

Haheylì returned to the sparing cave, though she was mildly surprised to see Ri’nela engaged in the man’s conversation before she noticed her return and stood up, looking more at ease than before.

“Here,” Haheylì pressed the mask into Jax’s spare hand.

He quickly shrugged off his filter box from his back, held his breath and shoved the new mask on before he took a few testing breaths and properly slid the new filter box onto his shoulder.

“Thank you, Haheylì. I… really appreciate it.” He thanked her with a warm smile before he picked up his sticks and the damaged mask. “Excuse me.” He added and began to work the stick pile across the ring.

Ri’nela let out a shallow sigh. “<Let’s talk again tomorrow. I’ll check in with the Kame’tire and see how many to expect. I suspect most will celebrate at their home but I hope the clan leaders at least visit.>”

“<I’m sure they will.>”

The party was loud, and it continued on well into the night, even after Alma changed and tucked herself into bed and curled up under her blankets but she couldn’t sleep. The fact she almost got trod on once by a drunk couple pissed her off a little, more so when there was no apology and a few giggles did she take her blankets, pillow and tablet and mask up did she find peace outside the Human safe area and in a small, human-sided crevice further into the mountain where the sound of Na’vi music was less intense and the sounds more bearable for her to set her pillow down on a smooth alcove and set up her bed, her blankets needed from the coldness of the stone.

It wasn’t as comfortable as a mattress or a hammock and she knew that certainly her old bones were gonna hate her in the morning but she also didn’t want to show her face on the Na’vi side just to sleep in one of their hammocks.

If her sleep was going to be interrupted or bothered, maybe she needed to reconsider her sleeping arrangements.

“Mind if I join you?”

Alma blinked at the glow of a lantern to realise it was Jin-young. He too had blankets and a pillow but a speaker. He looked…unnerved and his eyes bore the same tired weight and looked red-rimmed.

“Sur-..” Her voice cracked a little, forcing her to cough and clear her throat. “Of course,” She clarified. She didn’t ask anything to know why he wasn’t celebrating…or emotionally ready to mingle. Not since the last time…

Jin-young nodded, coming in, the light revelling more spaces but the one closest was filled with water so he avoided that and found one a few metres away. He didn’t say anything else, but surprisingly she heard the speaker start to play and instead of any music it was just… white noise. It echoed about and seemingly seemed to soften and drown out the sound of the music….

“Ow..” Alma groaned softly into her morning pouch of food, her back aching horribly and her shoulder was stiff. She had fallen asleep on it and now it was biting her in the ass every time she moved.

This morning, aside from stepping over sleeping Na’vi, hung-over humans and passed-out people, things had quietened down. The morning cooks by the fire were preparing food and not pitiful to those afflicted and clattered about as normal.

Day one out of three celebrations if the Resistance was going follow Na’vi celebration party traditions. It would be quiet, people would gather, and move to a new location to party with another clan, either from here to Hometree, The Circle, or The Hollows. So today was just going to be another quiet day and preparations for the next.

Alma decided she wasn’t going to camp in a cave again unless she put a hammock up first and clearly, she wasn’t going to get any good sleep inside during the party either. She could still feel the mask lines along her face.

She tilted her head to the side at an angle, rewarding with a swift and echoing series of cracks up her neck before she felt the tenseness loosen and she let out a sigh of relief. Shame she couldn’t do that to her shoulder.

Alma finished up her food and was about to toss it into the trash before she saw Ri’nela turn into the kitchen then freeze. They stared at each other for a moment before Alma dropped her gaze down to see she was shadowed by a mechanic, Jason before she threw the bag away and walked off, feeling their eyes on her.

“When will you discuss these matters with her?” Ri’nela’s voice was soft, yet still echoed in the cave way, enough to make Alma pause a little out of sight.

“Later, once people are busy. Anqa will be moving the stuff about first before we get there.”

Alma frowned but her heart skipped nervously and her stomach felt uneasy. Were they planning something involving her? She waited to hear more but the two didn’t talk more and Ri’nela’s heavier steps faded away before the airlock door opened.

Her legs moved first, near stumbling as she went, taking the long route around, pulling her tablet from the charging port and avoiding running into Jason before she reached the airlock and hurried out back to her cave. Her blanket was still there, as was her pillow and… matter-of-factly as was Jin-young who had taken them and padded out his little alcove. He was just lying there, staring at a photo of his late wife.

He looked startled at her appearance, even as she climbed into her alcove and sat back with a clunk of her filter box.

“Are-are you okay?”

Alma nodded once, “People talking about me…” She admitted, “I don’t…. they might be planning something and I don’t know what that means for me.”

Jin-young stared, baffled. “You hiding out?”

“For now.”

Jin-young stared for a long moment then nodded softly. “Want your pillow back?”

“No.” She could live without it for now.

They remained silent for about five minutes, Jin settling back on his makeshift bed and Alma tucking herself out of immediate sight. She didn’t bring her ear pods.

Damn.

“I’m going to go to a field lab today,” Jin-young announced quietly. “Horseshoe mountain station. Not too far from the resistance but… it’ll mean I won’t have to sleep in a cave away from everyone.”

Alma’s head rolled towards him, her face softening. “Na’vi parties of this size with many clans will continue for days, smart choice.” Maybe she could go with him. Avoid Jason and avoid the party without the discomfort of this cave again. She felt a little silly not thinking about the field labs as an option.

“Mind if I join you there?” Jin-young’s posture stiffened and he hesitated, which was all the answer she needed. “Oh.”

“Sure,” he backtracked a little. “It’s fine… I don’t mind.”

Alma said nothing, her head rolling away from him to stare down at her tablet, trying not to feel the hurt of that minor rejection and opened up her files back to read some research to block out Jin-young some more.

Alma didn’t leave the side-cave for hours, even when Jin-young eventually left for food and she took her pillow and blanket back to make herself comfortable but even that didn’t erase the discomfort of a full bladder and the reality that she had to go inside to relieve herself. Hunger had also returned as it was close to lunchtime.

Ultimately, Alma relented and hurried into the airlock and directly to the toilets which were thankfully empty and the relief was immense…until she had to leave once she was done.

Begrudgingly, she did so and her eyes scanned the faces of the humans around her as she skirted quickly to the kitchen to grab a food pack and dash but she barely got far before Jason of all people appeared in the opening airlock, his face brightening up at the sight.

“Cortez.”

“Nope. I’m busy>” She tried to detour but Johnson, a scavenger and plumber who had been lurking by the memorial turned and stood central with folded arms and a stern look on her face, clearly a blockade of sorts.

Fuck.

Her back way to the kitchen was also blocked, she realised and Jason stood in the way of her exit. She wasn’t going to get away, it seemed.

“Mask up, follow me.”

Feeling like a prisoner being escorted, Alma followed with clenched fists to hide the shaking in what this all meant, barely aware of the packet in her hand. None of them had a weapon, but they weren’t just gonna off her, right?

He led the way outside, right to where her avatar’s grave was before the two behind her moved back and allowed her breathing room. There were a few more people out, but she suspected they were there for a purpose. A show of force.

Not a good feeling… or sign this was going to end well or pleasant.

“Look, there’s no easy way to put this but given the shit you part of and the fucking lying to us… it’s been agreed that you should follow in the footsteps of that Kame’tire Na’vi guy who sold out the Sarentu clan to the RDA. You’re out of the Resistance, Cortez, effective in… an hour.”

“What?”

Alma stared at her co-workers in disbelief.

“We want you out,” Jason repeated. “We’ve come to a vote and its unanimous agreement is to remove you entirely from our mission. Not a leader and not a member or ally. It can go towards more deserving people who didn’t lie to everyone for almost sixteen years.”

The disbelief didn’t leave her body, her mouth remained agape as she tried to wrap her mind around the… nature of this demand. After all her losses, she never expected this. She was… human now and unfit to survive on Pandora without support. She was turning fifty-nine soon, so she was not in her prime either and this body was weak since she had focused her energy on her avatar.

Her dead avatar.

If… her avatar was still alive, at least then it wouldn’t have been such a big deal because all she needed was a shack and a link bed. But she didn’t even have that. A bug sting would kill her… she had zero protection out there in the forest and no fighting skills.

It was a death sentence waiting to happen. They knew that. They had to, right?

“Where do you think I’m going to go? I’ll die out there. It’s not human safe.”

Jason smiled, but his eyes remained hard. “We’ve got one of the shacks from a field lab moved from the usual sites that Anqa will drop you off at. You could live there but no one will be coming to see you. Stay or go from there if you want. No one will give a shit.”

Alma continued to gape at him, still feeling winded. “No…”

“We’re not giving you a choice. You had no friends here. No one will miss you and the fact is, Ri’nela agreed that your leaving is the best option for her clan to heal from the harm you and the rest of TAP inflicted.”

Alma flinches, her head feeling light as her heartbeat far too fast in her chest, her hands shaking, even as she gripped her lunch and nearly popped it.

“You have an hour to get your things together and any last things in order otherwise Jax will drag your ass into the Samson without a damn about what you’ve left behind.”

“An hour?” that was no time.

Jason nodded to the people around, and soon enough, they disappeared back in. One by one, until it was just Jason and after that, he left her alone…

The air felt cold… ticking her skin and ruffling her jacket but she barely felt it as Alma felt her mouth fill with saliva, enough for her to realise and pull her mask off in time before she vomited what was left in her gut into the grass.

Chapter Text

The sickness sensation didn’t leave. It weighed into her as if it was a bowling bowl, cloying at her insides and ready to return…if she had anything left in her gut to do so. Her head felt full and her body numb and for ten minutes, she was frozen at the graveside…

Then Alma remembered the timer she was under was still very much ticking…

They were gonna drag her out with nothing is she stayed frozen. Panic set in, enough to jolt her body into action and bolt inside. Her heart thudded fast and her limbs felt the rise of adrenaline and she was sure her hands were shaking. Any appetite she had was gone, so she shoved her food pack into her pant leg pocket and she barely remembered to take her mask off by the time she got inside.

The physical activity of packing occupied her thoughts, pushing away the grief and numbness to think enough about what she needed to consider in her remaining fifty minutes.

Everyone she passed was a blur but she managed to find her empty bags beside her abandoned mattress. There wasn’t much, actually, she had been a light packer and most stuff she had was typically for the avatar since that had been her more useful body. Too big for her now. Her avatar had been buried with most of its clothes but its work accessories had been removed. No longer needed in her small hands. So all she had was the human stuff.

A few changes of clothes, enough to cycle through laundry with, nightwear, one set of shoes which she had on her feet, then the personal necessities then trinkets; hair beads she never got around to putting in her hair, her hair products and styling stuff she had in a small bag as well as sanitary items. Genetically, Menopause struck later in her family so she still needed them but she knew she was close given that her cycles were less common and few and far between. Alma found her spare headscarf when looking for a spare bag and then she found a golden item.

The Resistance’s gaming console, an outdated thing that was clearly misplaced in the evacuation, missing and wanted. Everyone had game chips to play for downtime and the holotable was often used but none of that was important without the console for them. Alma wrapped that up in some pillowcases and added it into her bag quickly. If they were getting rid of her, then she needed something they’d come for if she was desperate for something. She didn’t know what yet but time would tell.

Alma took her avatar’s knife and scarf, the latter of which was like a machete to her now but mostly now for sentimental reasons, she added her personal tablet before she hit the monitors with a fresh hard drive and began downloading from it; entertainment, research papers but more importantly, data she might need for where she landed. She’d be exposed to the Pandoran world without her avatar; she needed precautions.

She couldn’t access more data than she used to, and horribly the quantity of what she could download was limited too. It settled some relief that Ri’nela had… taken charge and changed stuff. By the looks of it, her access was… basic. Like new-RDA-recruit basic. Limited access and limited quantities of data

Ri’nela had taken it all away.

Still, it needed time to download and so while that happened, Alma hurried swept into the empty medbay and took a few bottles of the meds from the supplies. Basically mood stabilisers under the name of Ciclomide, two Fenocine bottles for accidental ingestion of Na’vi food and a green and white bottle of supplemental vitamins called Etorone. She hid them all into a spare med kit and hurried back to her downloads. Hiding them was necessary as the Fenocine and Ciclomide were deadly in too high doses and as much as she wanted Nalin to see and stop this madness… she didn’t want them to assume she’d overdose on them. She was sure they’d take them away before she’d be forced out and leave her with nothing to… manage herself with.

She shoved the med kit on top and dragged her heavy bags along.

Alma couldn’t meet anyone’s stare as she went, well aware as there was a subtle hush and whispers before she grabbed a mask and slipped into the airlock. Separating herself from them.

It was hardly comforting either at the reaction she was getting. No one was stopping this. No one was…checking in on her to see if she was okay. She knew she looked obviously dire stressed and rushing. That something was wrong.

There was nothing.

Her eyes welled and she slung one bag over her shoulder, dragging her duffle along the floor to the far airlock door.

Why was this real? Was this actually happening? She felt sick again, swallowing back the sick sensation with a shaky breath as she emerged but she didn’t have a chance to make her way to the side cave to pick up her pillow and blankets before Jax stepped in her way and nodded with a very chipper grin and bounce in his step.

“This way.” He nodded to his left.

“I still have five minutes”

“Hm, barely. We still gotta get to the Samson.” He took the bag she was dragging, clearly incentive to get moving so she followed closely and gritted her teeth.

“I get to say goodbye.” Her eyes lingered over the Na’vi side of the cave where she could see the back of Teylan and So’lek by a fire and talking, Ri’nela was crouched opposite them but her eyes lifted and watched but she looked unconcerned and returned to her previous conversation with the two Na’vi.

“Why would they want to say goodbye to you?” Jax said. “Need I remind you, Ri’nela agreed to your expulsion.”

A scowl crossed Alma’s face. “That’s not fair.”

Jax scoffed. “I don’t give a damn about fairness, Cortez. You lied. Don’t throw a tantrum because you’re not getting your way. They don’t owe you anything and you don’t deserve to have that closure with them.”

Her cheeks flushed and her hands clenched into her bag strap. His words stung harshly. She still wanted to go and talk to Ri’nela but… she doubted she’d get far to try.

The Samson was already going. Jax secured her bag first and hung back with a steady glare as she hesitated and then climbed on and into the cockpit.

Anqa was at the stick, but Alma sat in the furthest seat away from the pilot and strapped herself in, already feeling the twist of dread.

“You in, Cortez?”

Alma managed a soft grunt to confirm, pulling her mask off and staring out the window without looking her way.

The Samson rose before she squeezed her eyes shut as they shot off Northwest towards the dense yellow fog, missing the sight of Haheylì’s Ikran landed not too far away.

Ri’nela felt a twinge of guilt, seeing Cortez being led away but it was… necessary for the Resistance. So’lek wouldn’t agree to her decision here. She did respect him and took his wisdom, she felt shame knowing he would be displeased with sending Cortez away like this. Cutting away an ally they needed was the same disapproval he had when Nor killed the avatar.

This was not the same thing. Cortez was alive and no harm would come to her. Anqa would need to send her food packets every other week and provide enough social interaction to curb any self-destructive habits that come from loneliness. Some things they had to do and as long as those needs were met, then she saw no fault in this banishment. It wouldn’t be forever. Couldn’t, realistically either. Exile was a punishment, the same manner as Ka’nat’s banishment of Vefilu’s mother for her behaviour in the clan. Nawuk returned, wounded pride but the effect meant she respected the clan’s way far more. Put the efforts in her ways.

At least this was what she hoped would lead Cortez to truly see where her actions had led her and the harm she had truly inflicted. She would have all the time to think and reflect without any distractions, without relying on anyone for false assumptions or appraisals.

“<Ri’nela.>”

Ri’nela’s head rose, smiling softly as Haheylì appeared and joined the three of them by the fire. “<Have a good trip? How are the sisters?>”

“<Very well. Nesim and Minang will visit tonight when the party starts up. I suspect more Zeswa will join so they’ll bring Zangke and cheeses>”

So’lek perked up. “<I look forward to it.>”

“<Nesim did mention she wanted to spar with you.>” Haheylì added with a smirk. “<Not many win against her. Sounds like a challenge.>”

So’lek scoffed. “<Then I best prepare. She may be Olo’eyktan and a mighty warrior but it will be a worthy fight.>”

Ri’nela barely suppressed a smirk, sensing Haheylì was stirring the pot for the fun of it. They deserved to have that fun at the very least, and it was harmless. Nesim and So’lek would have fun and enjoy each other’s competitive side.

“Are the Zeswa cheeses nice?” Teylan piped up, pulling his tablet to his chest. “Is it like... Earth Cheese?”

“You tried the human’s variant?”

“Yes. Alex had some in his rations and I asked. He did advise against it in case my stomach didn’t like it.” Teylan did look a little sheepish. “It tasted nice…”

“But you spent an hour on the toilet?” Haheylì guessed.

Teylan blushed, nodding a little. “Worth it.”

So’lek looked a little conflicted as if wondering why there was any debate. “We know humans cannot eat Pandoran food, why did you think you could eat sky people's food?”

“We can eat some of it in small portions,” Haheylì argued lightly. “They just have to process some of it for us. Meat, cheese and their dairy are the ones hardest for us to tolerate.”

“Just like they have to process Pandora's food to be safe for them. A lot more work and the taste is often compromised but… it allows for them to eat safely and with nutrients.” Teylan shrugged. “Alex was talking about the possibilities of studying mushrooms to see if they’ll be able to be processed for consumption. He said humans are more related to mushrooms than plants.”

Ri’nela didn’t press for more information on that but let Teylan talk more about the interest in plant samples of fruits and other produce that could be processed into food for humans. While she understood the purpose and Alex’s desire to learn, it was still for human benefit. It was a distant worry but plants made or known to be safe for humans may be made in mass for the RDA. Innocent and meaningful for the Resistance to endure long-term but harmful in RDA hands.

“I plan to give a human team or two coordinates for old bases I’ve taken down so they can raid them for supplies,” Haheylì announced. “Weapons, food and general supplies. I think a few salvage teams would work wonders and this place could do with more to expand. I would help but…I think I know where we need to turn our attention to.” She looked at her more strongly.

Ri’nela nodded. The clan’s care. The slow rebuild. It settled a deep relief that they could now focus within and now they didn’t have to look over her shoulder in fear of being confronted with Cortez.

“<So… before you find out from anyone else, Cortez has been moved to a field Lab.>” Ri’nela started, well aware of the sharp looks. “<I know…you’d disapprove, So’lek but we need the distance, right now. I can’t look over my shoulder for her watery cloud of apologies that I do not wish to hear.”

So’lek’s good mood dimmed and his lips pressed together but he said nothing.

Teylan’s face paled a little and he frowned then nodded.

“<Are you sure that’s a good idea>”

“<For now, yes.>” Ri’nela allowed. “<I’m… not ready for her. I still have to decide on the mantle of Resistance Leadership and her wallowing in self-pity for a situation she put herself in is not something we need.”

Haheylì looked a little conflicted but gave a resigned nod. “<How long were you thinking?>”

“<Nothing definitive. Until we allow her back, I guess. Anqa will visit to drop off supplies every so often since that’ll be her only source of food and keep tabs on her well-being so she’s not completely cut off.>” Jax had mentioned that to her when she had heard about it and wasn’t initially keen on it; there was no true way to exile a human of theirs completely unless they planned to kill them. Humans were limited by the fact that they couldn’t eat Pandoran food; thus this connection was necessary. “<She can tell you where Cortez lives if you really want to know. I don’t intend to visit myself.>”

Haheylì nodded softly. “Alright…”

“<Let’s move on,>” Ri’nela led, pulling the conversation away from Cortez for now.

Alma’s stomach remained uneasy and still filled with a sense of dread again as she watched the land move under them. But what stood out was the red trees with large roots… and the sickly yellow fog of Mercer’s cover-up that poisoned the land.

They flew over that… yet her stomach turned as she picked out the landing pads of TAP Con-1 through the Yavä but they flew right over that towards the higher mountain top just north of it. Anqa was unaware of the base at all, as evidenced by the lack of comment or acknowledgement. It wasn’t there to be seen; Mercer had it built into the mountain before she had arrived. It had been newly completed when she first arrived and not yet called TAP Con-1.

The Samson soon began to descend and for a horrid moment, Alma thought they were going to land in the Yavä before she realised that they were only just above. A few meters lower, then they’d step into the dense poison.

Her eyes scanned about, her heart aching a little at the sad sight of the shack module that was set beside the trunks of a cluster of trees, its right side nearly touching a large boulder and left near a cluster of Speckled Mushrooms. No tarps covered it but it looked to be placed there to blend in with the scenery rather than just in the large clearing in front of it. So the RDA didn’t spot it from above.

Anqa sighed deeply. “This is your stop.”

“You’re kidding me.” The words left her without thought, scowling Anqa’s way as the Pilot flicked a few switches. “The Yavä is too close! What sort of a place is this?!”

Anqa took a deep breath. “One where the creatures don’t make it easy to get you, Alma. They can’t cross paths with you in it.” She answered sharply. “You’ll be protected by your mask so it’s not like it’s a breathing problem and aside from the yellow fog, it’s got good views. Plus, the shack isn’t going to suffer with exposure either so you’ll be fine.”

. “You’re gonna get me killed.” Alma scoffed, shaking her head. Why Anqa of all people agreed to this… nonsense was beyond her. As if she was innocent during her RDA time here. If memory serves correctly, Anqa did take part in the felling of the Omatikaya Hometree, even if she cut loose and bailed halfway through. She was still part of it.

Anqa stood up sharply, turning to face her with a steady glare. “Get out.”

Alma glowered up before she grabbed her bag and masked up without another word. She pulled her second bag free and groaned on her step down but behind her, the Samson engines twirled back into life. She didn’t look back either, dragging herself onwards to the shack and in as it rose back into the air. The airlock was cold in the changeover and inside was dim.

Alma felt the weight return as the rumble of the Samson vanished and silence remained in its wake.

Her eyes welled up but she felt like she had been punched as she saw the link-bed at the furthest side of the shack.

This wasn’t just any shack they had pulled from a random field lab, they had taken her link shack. She had never had a proper room made in The Resistance HQ back in the Kinglor forest, and they had taken this with them in the evacuation so she hadn’t needed to disconnect from her avatar after the blast. She had practically never needed to leave this shack in her human body before. Simply used it for her human self-care routine privately and otherwise just went into her avatar; no one saw her human form in passing that way and this shack made that easy.

She didn’t know if she should be touched or upset… but the sight of the link bed was heavy. Reminding her of her losses. She’d never be able to use it again for its purpose.

Alma let out a shaky breath, kicking her bag from the airlock and shutting it behind her. She didn’t look at the link bed as she reached the power buttons, flicking them on and the shack buzzed into life and settled into a quiet hum around her. Offering a quiet sense of familiarity… but now it had a disconnected sense to it.

Her mask clanged as she dropped it onto the floor and stumbled towards the link bed and opened it up; not turning on its power systems since… she didn’t need to. It looked as it normally did, only a little worn with its use. Some of the gel was peeling and lifting from the sides. She had recently glued it down with superglue and some resin and she had almost stuck her leg to it when she linked up shortly thereafter.

Her fingers traced along the edges, taking a moment before she turned her gaze up to the top lid where… she had a few photos stuck to it. Only a few, most were still in the photo album she had. Michael had been the sentimental type, printing photos out and crafting together the album. Some of it was both her and Michael as their relationship grew, their first pregnancy and the baby’s stillbirth, then six years later, her second pregnancy which birth which was another girl, healthy and adorable. So many photos of the spindly little newborn turning into the chubby one-year-old with curly bouncy black hair and four tiny teeth…

The picture of Hope was faded, leaning against her father’s chest with a teething ring in her mouth and drooling. Happy and waving with her other hand towards the camera. There were no real baby clothes but they had claimed old clothes and Michael, surprisingly, had skill in sewing and had made her little outfits. Anela, a pilot that they had befriended during her first pregnancy had made a little headscarf from old camo material with a little bow. It was on her head in this picture, lopsided and coming off.

Alma didn’t fill it after both of them died.

Why would she? She had nothing to put into it after that.

Still, she printed copies to not damage the real photos and stuck them here; not as a reminder really but to… keep some elements of her past close. Even when she didn’t think about them.

Slowly, Alma turned then sat back into the link bed and slowly lay back into the squidgy gel. As if she could close it and open her eyes to a familiar body… as if she could wake up to a whole new reality where things were just a little bit better and stable for her.

Utterly alone now, wasn’t she?

Chapter Text

The Yavä was like a yellow ocean of fog, lit brightly by the early rising sun. Treetops poked through it, and flying creatures also flew above it but there was a silence that came with the surrounding toxins that she didn’t expect to miss. Fauna was simply insects, Kite Manta and flying creatures. Nothing else echoed in either vocal calls or heavy steps. At the resistance hideout, they had that constantly. In the Kinglor forest, they had that.

Here, it was quiet.

Alma wasn’t sure if she preferred that or not with her current exiled status. It made her feel more isolated from Pandora than just being in her human form, even if Anqa claimed it made her ‘safer’. Honestly, a place like the field labs would have been better. Exploration and easier means of finding stuff to do, like study.

The ration packet crinkled in her hands as her spoon hit the bottom, reminding her now that it was more or less empty. Still, she scraped it empty and ate the remnants, tossing the wrapper into the bin and letting out a heavy exhale.

She had pretty much spent all of the last night between sleeping staring off into nothing in despair. Waking with energy had been a surprise but enough to get her up, showered and eating before… she contemplated her current situation again.

Looking about the dimly lit space, Alma distantly realised that… she had no idea what she could do out here. Moping she had plenty of time for but mentally, she’d need something to focus on. Stimulate her mind to keep from spiralling. She had left stuff here, right?

Alma knew she hadn’t thought too far ahead in her panic to pack nor was she sure that she had packed anything into her bags like that, aside from stealing the Resistance’s gaming console. Alma began to scout about the shack slowly. Notebooks, pens, pencils and sketchbooks were there. The monitor was off and she found a few old sample kits but honestly, the shack she mostly used for leisure or sleep; the science happened inside the HQ so there was little in the way of equipment here for her to use.

Science was and should have been her fall-back option. That had been the plan once the Resistance power mantle was sorted. Solitude was enough but with people to talk work and come up with solutions. She could… become the background person. Still…maybe she could still be useful despite her…exile.

The Yavä was still a problem and one she was surrounded by so… maybe something to look into? Well, if she had the supplies. Wasn’t like she had a lot of options aside from the little bit of data she had downloaded and the gaming console. She had very few games but she was sure the console had a game or two inside it still. That should be a last resort at the very least.

Alma continued her search of her home, recovering a few more bits and pieces of scientific equipment, a medical duffle bag, and a few old books she had forgotten about.

• If I Stay, by Gayle Forman
• My Sister’s Keeper by Jodi Picoult
• Feelings Buried Alive Never Die by Karol Truman

Honestly, the last book wasn’t even hers. Michael had packed most of his and Hope’s things but that book had laid forgotten at his bedside. Alma wasn’t fond of self-help books and never considered reading it before. Her fingers ran over the cover, feeling the crinkles in the spine. Not even finished, she noted, as the spine smoothened out on the back half.

It wasn’t too late… Maybe she should give it a read?

Alma set it onto the side with the others and continued on and eventually finding her field microscope and more equipment in a box

“Oh, good.” She grinned, a little elated as she opened it up, taking each of them out and setting them across her table to pull together an inventory. What she didn’t have, she could pull a list together for Anqa. They’d… still give her stuff she’d need, right? They had to allow her equipment, even if she was cast out here.

Her head turned sharply towards her kitchen. She hadn’t checked how much food she had...

Abandoning her table, she strolled to her mini fridge and pulled out the tray out where her bags of rations sat inside. Most were dry rations and while nutritious they weren’t filling, but she typically stored them in the fridge to keep track of all edibles. She flipped them up to standing, more or less and started to count them.

“One…. Three… seven… eleven, thirteen… sixteen.” She counted then let out a shaky breath as the tense coiling sensation of anxiety sat deeply in her stomach, hurriedly recounting but the number remained the same “Fuck.”

Sixteen bags.

It wasn’t enough.

At least, not enough if she ate three meals a day for the next two weeks until Anqa dropped off more food supplies. This supply hadn’t been added to at all. If anything, these would last her about 5 days with that if she didn’t get a visit sooner.

This was unacceptable.

Alma abandoned the tray, moved swiftly to the monitor and jammed her finger into the power buttons to bring it into life. Her nails clinked against the monitor stand and faster as she waited and then the screen filled and the typical UI flashed up but she felt her stomach drop further as new words blinked across the screen.

‘Resistance support servers unavailable. Please check connections.’

She refreshed the screen, swallowing the unease before Alma rebooted the monitor again, hoping it was a simple error.

The same messages popped up each time.

“Shit…shit, shit, shit…” Alma reached back, turned the screen and followed the cable down to the floor, pulling the panels off areas and following the wiring down just in case it was a wiring fault she needed to patch up but soon enough, one wire looked off when she examined visually along each one.

By off, one of the wire's plastic looked to have been cut. She reached down but her gut sank further as the plastic folded and two inches of it internally was missing inside so she couldn’t, as rudimental as she possibly could, smelt the severed parts back together in any shape or form.

Someone had purposely cut her wires. She had no current means of connection to the resistance.

Alma could feel the panic rising as she stared at the wires, her heart thudding faster and her head felt light but she forced herself to breathe; to force herself to think before it could grow out of control and swamp her like a tsunami.

They were doing this to mess with her. Isolate her for some fucked-up thrill on their end; them knowing she had no voice here.

No way to call for help.

Well, up until Anqa dropped off her next food supplies. The next drop-off was two weeks away if Anqa held up her routine of supplies to strict demand. Anqa wasn’t that sadistic to delay when she was dependent on her visits to eat. She could make that, if she only had one bag a day and take the four spare for if she was late or if the desperation got to her a little sooner than she’d like. It’d suck, she’d lose weight but she’d survive.

At least now she didn’t feel so bad about stealing the gaming console. It’d be good leverage to get them to repair her connections to the Base. Bastards.

Whoever had cut her lines clearly didn’t know the plan. Hopefully, if Anqa was in a forgiving mood, she could let her return to voice her complaints about this new low of cruelty. There was no masking the reality of the fact that this was cruel and uncalled for. Surely she could get someone on her side about it. Maybe So’lek, at the very least? He understood the implications here and he knew her value as an alley.

It was one thing to banish her away from her company with regular drop-stops but another to entirely completely cut her away from even trying to contact the base.

Alma closed her eyes, taking deep breaths before she turned off the redundant device.

She needed to be careful. With food in short supply and with the bag she had just finished, her next meal was tomorrow morning. She’d have to limit herself on what she was going to do to not expend too much energy.

Alma settled herself in taking inventory again, making note of her findings and damages for proof for future reference and drew up a calendar for herself on her notebook and stuck it to her window for a reminder. After that, Alma dragged herself outside for now, her nearly empty bag on her back aside from a sample kit, she needed to scope her location out when she was at her strongest; before the effects of missing meals kicked began to affect her physically; she needed to see if there was anything edible.

She knew a few food items like Kite Mantra eggs, Buoyfish and Octofin fish and those little pink berries were safe to eat but finding them about would be hard. If Kite Manta could enter Yavä or had nests about up here with her, then she was lucky and could eat more freely. Fish, unlikely to catch and the only closest rivers she had were in the Yavä and she doubted they’d live in that. But the berries, she had to see and take samples of to see if they were safe to eat or contaminated by Yavä exposure.

Alma desperately hoped that she could find the eggs; that’d provide a lot more sustenance than berries…

Jason knew his actions would be found out eventually but in all honesty, it was for a necessary cause: Cortez was a problem never gone growing. They didn’t need and they certainly could tell how… easy going and different the first 24 hours it had been since Anqa had dumped her off to her newfound home. Exile was very fitting… but it was better to simply cut all ties with that woman and let nature take its course. Harsh, but after all the lies and spilt blood, who was honestly going to care?

Not him.

Not even half the Resistance.

Cortez aided genocide so really, it was for the greater good of the Resistance and good that Jax had the initiative to cut the module’s connection to their secure lines.

The Na’vi kids certainly were more relaxed and benefited well from getting rid of that cow. She had been holding them all back. Now it was time to move on but… he’d rather not get sold out for minor sabotage so soon if Anqa took off earlier than expected.

Jason carefully ran through system diagnostics on his laptop, a typical routine check-up that Anqa had left him to do while she searched for replacement parts for her bird from their recent haul. He spared a look around, taking a second to lean forward and access Samson’s coordinates, specifically, its history.

He ran through the familiar coordinates that repeated a few times; the mountaintop of the shack being the main target before he manually removed the data lines and cleared a few other coordinates of non-importance to back up any excuse if questioned. He could say it was an accident. Earlier done so it’d be easier to miss in a week or so when Anqa ran her patrols with it and new coordinates were added.

Even if they did somehow recover the data, it’d take far longer to do so and the chances that Cortez would be… about was far slimmer. If she was smart, she’d be gone with a bag of supplies or better yet, dead. Nothing to follow them and they’d all lost that association her being here had. A bad thing to do but for good reasons. They’d feel the same way about it once they got over the anger of their deception.

Satisfied for now, Jason backed out of the coordinates and continued with the diagnostics, getting green flags across the board.

“How are we looking?” Anqa’s voice echoed before the woman appeared, masked up since they had disabled the airlock to allow the wires to hook up from the outside

“All green and hopefully no follow-ups.” He grinned.

“Great, I was getting worried with some of the systems,” Anqa said, her eyes darting down to the screen, which he tilted towards her to see. “I’ll need to be ready to go at a moment’s notice. How are the filters looking?”

“All good, a quick rinse cleared out that yellow shit.” Disgusting toxic poison was such a mess. Still, it made him busy at the end of the day so there was that. “Are the geeks gonna help with getting rid of it?”

Anqa hummed, uncertain. “I can hope so. We’ve got some folks at a Field lab to study the fog and I think Haheylì mentioned a Na’vi called Okul who was also studying it so… between the both of them, I’d say they have a better chance of coming up with one solution in one way or another.”

Jason nodded slowly. “Glad to hear it.” At least something good had to be done to get rid of that disgusting pollution. “I’m almost done here. Just gotta adjust the seat. It’s… kinda wobbly.”

“Na, it’s okay. There’s minor damage to the main base after a bullet got through the windscreen.” Anqa gestured to the patched bullet hole in the screen in front, a shot downwards

Jason gave her an odd look, “Then we should really replace both. Weld it in place if need be.”

“Not today.” Anqa said, “I’m heading to the Kinglor Forest with a scavenger squad to look through the old base. There’s a lot we still left and the group doesn’t care for the party tonight. It’ll be the quietest now and the RDA aren’t about in thick numbers. It’s a good opportunity. So finish up as quickly as you can then let me know.”

“All right.”

Anqa patted his arm in thanks. “Wonderful.”

Chapter Text

The first week had been as rough as Alma predicted but she had tried her best to use her energy at her strongest. So for the first three days, surviving off a single bag of food, she used that time to explore the area to make the best of it.

It wasn’t easy, through the Yavä and the swirl of the fog being mildly disorientating, she found some human-edible berries growing, but due to Yavä contamination, they were too poisonous to eat. Alma had tried many ways to prepare them over the following days; boil, mash, UV sterilisation and using acids to try and neutralise the fruit’s deadly nature, but there was nothing that made the toxins disappear. So Yavä-based food was off the table entirely.

She didn’t have the strength to climb out across the mountains behind her, and out of the Yavä forwards was going to be too long of a journey than she was able to do physically with declining nutrients.

So, she had to consider the other only possible option which was halfway.

TAP Con-1.

It was close in range and had supplies she could access, but it meant stepping back into a place of personal shame and… she detested the thought, even as she laid a walking route down towards it as a last resort. She knew there was a high chance food was left inside. Rations were made to last, even after so long since this place was abandoned. So she should find enough to keep her going. Would it even be worth returning back to the shack?

Alma didn’t know, but she opted not to focus too heavily on that and hoped for Anqa’s swift return.

The weight loss wasn’t feeling great either. Her pants felt looser and her shirt was starting to feel like it was hanging off her but she kept notes; weighing herself every day to track how fast she was losing weight and also checked her blood pressure and vitals via the link-bed since it had those functions.

One bag of food a day continuously was not enough.

A logical fact before she had forced herself to ration them. Even in resting states, the human female body needs 1,600 calories minimum to keep going. The supplies she had were cheaply made by the RDA, and each bag contained about 800 to 900 calories each. They were half the average amount of a standard typical MRE. They weren’t even MREs, probably why they got away with a lesser calorie count.

It was becoming a starvation diet, which was unsustainable in the long run. Soon, her body would move to her muscles rather than her fat, she was already feeling tired which wasn’t a surprise given she was lacking proper nutrition intake and it wasn’t going to get better until she had access to more food.

She drank a lot of water to help curb hunger cravings, and by the middle of the week, she was settled in her bed to avoid burning energy by listening to music or sleeping.

Waiting.

Then, on day twelve, her tablet pinged a reminder that Anqa was due today, so she pulled herself out of bed sluggishly, ate her one of her last few bags of food, got showered and slowly cleaned up her shack, but kept an ear out for the sounds of an engine.

Her body this morning felt awful. Cold, achy and everything was feeling like a chore and her head throbbed with a headache and tiredness sat permanently behind her eyes. Worse than yesterday, but she still pushed past it to wait.

By noon, there was no sign of Anqa, so Alma found herself packing a bag, still hoping at the back of her mind she would come.

“Where are you…” Alma muttered under her breath because honestly, what was keeping Anqa? She had dumped her early and could run morning shifts. Surely she had to be on her way, right?

Still, her hands shook as she folded up her spare pants and blue shirts. Her leather one lay abandoned since it didn’t keep her warm. She repacked her tablets, some hard drives and a few knick-knacks. Her pills, she packed as well. The stolen gaming console, she kept in the airlock.

Alma walked away to the kitchen for a long drink of water and stood by the window, looking out.

Still a vast ocean of yellow. She hated the sight of it. Why was she condemned here? Why put her on a mountain away from everyone and everything thing? Fine, dumping her in the Yavä was one thing but on ground level, she could have walked to a clear area; she could fish and find berries that were edible and safe. At least then it was a fair shot.

She could have lived with the risks of predators and fled into the fog when they came. At least she could have had a long-term solution.

Here? Just surrounded by deadly fog that made everything around her unliveable. There was nothing. There was a river, down twenty metres but still contaminated and unsafe. There had been plenty of fish bones along the shore to know the fish suffocated in their attempts here.

Anqa was coming, right?

Alma licked her lips, trying not to pop that bubble of hope with the real possibility she wasn’t.

They weren’t going to be that cruel.

They weren’t the RDA; they had to come at some point to give her food. They knew she had a limited supply. They knew she needed this.

They had to come.

Her hands pressed to her side, distastefully feeling the prominence of her ribs.

They didn’t leave her to die.

She inhaled shallowly, moving from the window her stomach panging painfully. She had one bag of food left. If nothing… came of the day, she had to move on tomorrow and get to TAP Con-1 for any chances of food. Maybe glucose gel?

Would that help her or trigger refeeding syndrome?

Felt like a worthy risk… as was the RDA risk in TAP Con-1 which they had investigated once when Haheylì had turned the power on.

Distantly, she knew she was a high-value target…if they recognised her. Other than that she was a woman and desperate for food. As appalling as it was, she was so damn hungry that she felt far willing to sell out her own body for a plate to the RDA Soldier offering such a deal. Men had simple needs and she was desperate.

Would they use food for information instead?

Again, another possibility. Selling out the resistance for a stake and chips… Honestly, Alma didn’t know if she’d crumple and give but the thought of a medium stake made her mouth water and stomach clench painfully. She just might.

Alma dropped her hand from her side, tightened up her belt again and pulled on a long-sleeve sweater to not only keep her heat in but cover up again. She hadn't looked into a mirror yet nor did she want to see how she was wasting away, plus, she was so damn cold.

“Damnit…” She shook her head. “Anqa…”

“Damnit….” Anqa huffed, trying to get the Samson to roar into life the last two days but it kept stuttering to a stop and dying on her and it was beyond frustrating that she had pulled in a team to help fix the damn problem, which side-lined her need to get out for a short trip.

It had been weird without Cortez the last two weeks and… kinda nice without the weight of her presence. The Sarentu three were certainly lighter for it and the mood of the resistance was generally high.

But Anqa still had her job to do despite that. But this new issue was delaying her job in getting Cortez her food supply for the next two weeks.

“What’s wrong?”

Anqa’s head turned towards the window to see Haheylì peering through the glass. Anqa startled a second before she flicked a few switches and let it settle before she grabbed her mask and exited. “The Samson keeps shutting down. Might… be a battery thing but I’ll pull the team back to find the problem.”

Haheylì frowned, her eyes running across it. “That’s not good.”

“No, it’s really not.” This was their only Samson. If it died, Resistance being independent of Na’vi was fucked. “Just… you know when you’ve taken down some RDA bases, have you seen any with abandoned Samsons? Scorpions?”

Haheylì nodded. “Yes, a few.”

Anqa’s head perked. “Do you think they’re still there?”

Haheylì shrugged slightly. “Probably. You want them for parts.”

“Yes, but.. if they’re in one piece and they’re able to fly independently….” Anqa started, an idea in mind, “I know it’s a lot to ask given how much you’ve done but… could you fly me to one of the spares? I can wipe it from RDA’s systems and steal the entire thing. Plus, I want to train Luis De Luca in flying so there’s more than one pilot and ship.” They could really do with that.

Haheylì’s eye twitched but she considered her words for a moment. “How long until the Samson here is up and running?”

“I don’t know and I’m getting antsy. I need to run Cortez’s food drop-off. Otherwise, she’d gonna think we’ve abandoned her without food.” At this point, the radio silence on Cortez’s part felt like it was purposeful and spiteful but that didn’t mean they couldn’t ignore the fact she relied on them. She knew that too.

Haheylì’s lips pursed. “How much food does she have?”

“According to the inventory Johnson did of her shack, she’ll be on her last few bags today,” Anqa spoke. “If we can’t get this up by the afternoon, I’ll have to try in the morning. She’ll go without a morning meal or so but she’ll be fine.”

“Do... I could drop off her food.” Haheylì offered.

“No, I won’t ask you to do that.” Anqa shook her head. As much as she understood the teenager’s empathy to the situation, Cortez was their problem now and not any of the Sarentu’s. She shouldn’t shoulder any more responsibilities. “She’s our responsibility and we can take care of her.”

Haheylì’s lip twitched, her eyes softening. “I can handle her. I’m ready to talk to her now.”

Anqa sighed deeply. “I can give you her coordinates if you really want. One second…” She opened up the cockpit and to the panel and touched at the screen to access and ran down the numbers, noting her typical patrol routes and the spots she took Priya to for some more… private time without being heard. Priya was… very loud and she liked it. Just didn’t like people investigating either.

But further down, she noted the time stamps and the dates but… the coordinates she had manually saved didn’t pop up. Nor did the timestamps show her destination and she damn well knew when Cortez got to her new home.

Anqa refreshed, a frown forming on her face when nothing returned. “Fuck…” She scrolled down again.

“What’s wrong?” Haheylì’s voice echoed through the glass.

“Coordinates are gone.” Which was a huge fucking problem on top of the Samson situation.

“Gone?”

“Gone. I can’t give you a precise location.” She inhaled deeply. “We... I drop off Cortez’s shack on top of one of the mountains above the Yavä. A little out so the shack isn’t swamped by yavä since that’d clog up the filters.”

“Why so close to the yavä?”

“Safety, mostly. Predators can’t enter the yavä. If she goes exploring, then she’ll be far safer there than in the normal woods.” Anqa said.

Oddly, Haheylì didn’t look too thrilled about it. “I’ll do a flyabout. I’ll take some of the food packs as well.”

Anqa retrieved six ration bags with a nod. “This is for two days. I should be up and running by then at the latest.”

“Is.. is the problems only just happening?”

“Yes. I was going to fly in early yesterday instead so I could spend the day with Priya somewhere private instead. I got a team yesterday to work on the problem and I thought it was sorted.” She ran a hand through her hair, catching at her mask strap for a moment. “I’ll get it sorted.” She had to.

“And if it keeps happening?”

“Then I’ll beg for someone to take me to an abandoned one and go from there.”

Haheylì’s brow remained pulled in softly. “You ever consider this… is sabotage?”

“Possibly,” Anqa allowed, “But why would anyone risk our only Samson? What’s the gain there?” It had been in the back of her mind a growing possibility but she had hoped for other notions. The matter the coordinates were gone seemed to… thicken that possibility and Anqa didn’t like that.

Haheylì said nothing more, slipping the packs into her hip pouch and venturing away.

Her bag lay packed by the airlock. Her hands clenched around her bottle of water but the darkening sky of night had claimed away the last of the evening and solidified the new reality. Heat seared into her eyes, despite her attempts but she felt the… bubble of hope burst into numbness.

They weren’t coming.

Nothing.

They had left her to die here.

She felt like crying, screaming till her voice was hoarse and she was exhausted but… it was distant. For now.

Tomorrow she’d go to TAP Con-1 and search for food. Her last resort.

Alma found herself seated at the monitor, staring at it for a moment before she reached forward, turned the camera on then opened up a new video log file and set it to record. She did this as part of her note-keeping. Familiar, really.

“They’re not coming.” She stated, her eyes looking past the camera. “I can’t stay waiting any longer. Tomorrow, I’ve got a place in mind to go. It… should have food that I can eat. Risky, but at this point I have to take the risks. I’m not starving to death out here.” Her hand came to scratch at her jaw, feeling the prominence of the bone but didn’t think too much about it. “I don’t know if they planned to torture me to death in this way but I have to make the choice here to accept that fate or not. My last resort is to leave. If there’s… nothing then I know what I will do.”

She hated the notion of suicide but… she wasn’t going to suffer such a slow and painful death like starvation. Waiting for them was one thing, but waiting out death was another.

“Once I’ve found enough food, I’ll make it my home. Make it nice and comfy…” She trailed off, thinking about the pillows; she could make a pillow pile. The RDA pillows weren’t that comply… as a singularity but a mass of pillows would certainly make all the difference. She could sleep in comfort. Even if she didn’t survive long; she’d enjoy that comfort.

Alma quickly remembered the camera and shook her head. “I don’t plan to come back. Honestly, I think the resistance will be glad for it. They left me to die out here. I can’t trust them anymore. How could they just leave me here? I..” She hesitated. “I know I did bad things but…I didn’t think I deserved this.” The numbness subsided a little, and a slither of grief seemed to settle beside her heart, eyes welling again. “Maybe I do. I die, everyone is happy. Kids might actually be happy about it. Mercer’s dead, I will die… all they need to do is kill Harding….” She swallowed thickly. “Maybe it’s best no one looks for me… if they did try. Disappear. I don’t want anyone to find my bones. No one would respect my grave if they did. Maybe I could die with some dignity intact.” Alma blinked quickly, letting the tears drop, and her hand came to brush them away quickly. “I’m… tired. This is my last video log. Goodbye.”

Her fingers pressed the camera off shakily and turned it off. The recording stopped. Alma stared at it for a moment, lowering her arm and letting out a shaking breath.

Chapter Text

The bag felt like it dug into her ribs too much as she walked. The terrain was uneven and rocky, and very quiet within the dense fog of the yavä. Unnaturally quiet, that Alma could only chalk up to the lower levels of life within the fog. Some bugs, she did hear which was a relief that they had adapted or were immune to the toxic air and explained why the forest was still alive after the exposure. No large creatures and Kite Mantra did look to float unfazed above her.

Still, it felt exhausting as she followed the picked-out route from the mountainside and down. Her stomach twisted uneasily the closer she got and she had to pause three times to catch her breath and set her bag down off her back.

It wasn’t as heavy had it had been; the matter of fact, the heaviest thing she had next to her bag had been the resistance console, so she pushed it off the edge of the cliff and into the river before she descended. There was little guilt in robbing the resistance of their fun toys. If they were gonna have her starve to death, she was gonna make it hurt for them too. She wasn’t above that pettiness.

Her boots crunched loudly down dead leaves. Now on the last legs of her trip and she could vaguely tell it had taken her almost to the afternoon since getting up this morning; it was a little hard to tell through the yellow but the sky looked darker.

Alma stopped on the last drop down, a slight incline with some twisting roots. It wasn’t too far, really and on a healthy day, she could have managed it. However, she took the time to take her bag off and slide it down the drop first. With the extra weight gone, Alma slowly sat down and allowed gravity to do the rest.

A soft grunt passed her lips before her boots felt the solid ground and her knees almost buckled. She took a steady breath, then picked up her bag and slowly slung it back up onto her shoulder before her eyes lingered ahead of her.

The familiar outside of the TAP base loomed ahead of her. She gritted her teeth but allowed herself to keep moving ahead. Food was inside…. Just needed to find her way inside and she could eat it.

Her mouth watered a little.

Her steps picked up in pace as she made her way across the overgrown platforms. Vines, roots and moss covered the surface. The text on the concrete was faded but visible. There was an abandoned Samson outside and AMP suits that looked to have been crippled. The bodies were well into decomposition and she tried not to throw up at the sight; the yavä was working fast on them too.

She found a shortcut around the tall front fence without breaking a leg. The door opened, and she could hear the base was still running; Haheylì must have brought the generators to life, but the RDA didn’t send another team after to shut the base down. So she didn’t have to wear her mask when she was further in.

Good.

She was looking forward to that.

The first door opened to a large warehouse. Rusted vehicles lay within, downed and occupied AMP suits but she didn’t linger there too long and just went straight to the large airlock with green lights; indicating it was still functional.

She couldn’t help but remain cautious as the air changed over before she took her mask off to test the air and… she could breathe as the other door opened, she was met with the smell of rotting metal, but there were clear smells of damp plants. Grown out from display or samples and had grown, no doubt. She could suspect they had punctured in from the outside, but the chances were they also plugged the holes and grown over the damages and systems automatically filtered the room.

Pungent as it was… It felt nice to smell the wild flora again. She had missed that.

The room had doors, but inaccessible. there was the smashed window, so she took that option, being mindful of the glass in stepping over the window frame, but she felt the hot flash against her hand.

“Damn.” She hissed a little, pulling her hand back, beads of blood, but… nothing too dramatic. She’d put a Band-Aid on it once she found something. Alma carried on, pausing to look down the outside corridor of the broken room before her heart lurched at the sight of a familiar box by a dead set of doors.

A food crate.

“Yes!” She felt utter relief, tossing her bag off her shoulder and falling to her knees in front, trying to ignore the pain that stabbed up her bones before she wrenched it open, but… how it opened was too easy. Too fast. Unlocked.

Inside… the crate was empty.

Alma’s stomach sank, gasping in disbelief. How could it be empty? It should have been full. These crates carried at least sixteen bags; they were meant to fill a small unit of soldiers when away.

“Shit…” She licked her dry lips, forcing herself to take a deep breath. No, there had to be more.

Gritting her teeth, and taking the empty case, and bag, she resumed her trip and carried on towards the open set of doors. The case, she only took to not stumble upon it again. The next room had mushrooms growing in it, a few cases of equipment but no green cases but after that, her stomach churned with discomfort as she realised the next room was the warehouse.

She had never been allowed in this room. Mercer had pushed her to concentrate on paperwork and integration plans for the kid’s arrival. She had only known about the cages when they dropped them off at the moot site. She hadn’t even been here after the fact either.

Guilt gnawed at her heart as she stared at them. At the rotting clothing inside… the toys.

Her blind mistakes that had hadn’t wanted to see either. This had been their reality. Alma’s steps echoed, taking her on towards the cages… the restraints that had been used now adorned the table side past the cages. All of it looked like overkill.

She should have known better.

Her steps continued on towards the Processing Centre which opened up to a small corridor of windows and a door. Alma walked through, shame settling into her gut as she passed through the dormitories that had been used to hold the kids. The smell of disinfectant was sharp and distrusting.

She didn’t linger too long but her eyes stayed to the drawings on the walls as she passed the second holding room. Another food crate, but empty again.

Onwards, she progressed through other doors and more corridors and then down two flights of steps, checking the labs in passing, noting the open boxes of supplies that had been rummaged through. Haheylì.

But the corridors were distantly familiar now. She had walked these ones often in both forms. Other rooms looked to be hard to open, so Alma stuck to the automatic doors for now.

The lab was open, back then she had been taken directly to the centre’s lab to start getting the kids set up into the systems. It had taken them too long. Now it was a cold, horrible set up. The nine seats were set a distance apart, some chairs gone but the placement markers on the floor were still there, disallowing any physical contact as they were summoned for their physical exam. Getting their ages, their height and weight for starters.

She had turned a blind eye to all of this in the shock of what happened. Going with the flow had been easier to handle the situation.

Her eyes darted about, noting the old samples that had been taken then found a dead but half-open door to squeeze into first. It was very claustrophobic but manageable and she slipped into the small stairs up. The doors bellow looked to have been barricaded and she didn’t have the energy for that.

It took some time to get the other door open enough to squeeze through the slither. Her eyes lingered on the sight of the monitors, her throat thickening at the sight of Aha’ri on the monitor screens.

Her breath shook, setting down the bags but went for the lockers on either side. RDA bought cheap locks, so it wasn’t too hard to get into them with the override codes; they were always the same and she knew them given her position here. Each one opened, revealing a few personal stashes. Some emptied but nothing edible, unfortunately. A stick of food she did find was mouldy; completely poisonous. She collected the memory drives, and the tablets and shoved them into the cases and she pressed on out of the lab entirely for the control centre.

Downwards again, pausing at another two empty cases, the five lockers in the next room had a single barely edible granola bar. She didn’t hesitate to open and eat it after giving it a once-over for anything poisonous. Tasted disgusting, dry and crunchy but food, nonetheless.

Alma dropped the packet on the floor and continued on through two of the labs and down again until she found herself entering a lab.

Half-flooded, damp and one she had been in for years when it had been buzzing with life and…her excitement. She had loved this room. Her heart fluttered, aching with the familiar loss. For years, watching her avatar finish its last few years of growth… it had been a blessing to witness and to see its decantering…

Her legs pushed her onwards without much thought, going directly into the doorway and splashing a little on the steps but the water wasn’t too deep. She set her bag down once inside, glad to see it was dry.

Alma had a fair idea of where the dorms were for staff from here and where the link room was. She yawned softly, at the cases she had, she piled them up before she opened up the tube’s port end, letting it swing open and pushed her bag in first then herself; it was dry and smelt oddly comforting. Like distant memories, she was slightly out of touch of. But the trip had exhausted her…a nap sounded really good.

This was probably the most sanitary spot for now. God only knew the state of the beds and dormitories if moister had leaked in.

Alma groaned softly as she pulled her boots off and then tossed them out the tube for now, knife too since it was digging in, each one echoed loudly in the vast space outside the cubicle. She slowly lay back and let her head rest on her bed, staring up at the curved ceiling of the glass tube for the longest of moments.

Later… she’d hopefully have the energy to look at the other areas.

Was it weird to take a nap in her avatar grow tank? Probably. Didn’t care.

Sasta eyed their new set up for now but she was discontent with the progress they had made with their swift exit but she was…comfortable with the distance they had set between them and the highlands clan.

It was the right action to move on when they did. But she was uneasy still with the fact they were still far from the Clouded Forest when they could still be turned away. In a few weeks’ time, they’d get to the Spires first, then south east towards Heartlands, Zeswa territory, for a few days then the clouded forest.  Assuming they were welcome.

“<You’re worried,>” Her mate’s warm touch softened her shoulders before she let out a sigh.

“<Supplies for the humans are low.>” She admitted. “<There’s little Sky people ruins for salvage in this area.>”

Naswì hummed softly. “<Good and bad, I see.>”

Small mercers the sky people’s awful machines didn’t pollute their world this far. Still left their allies without food.

“<Perhaps two of us should run ahead? It’d take us a day or so to get there. Longer if we only run nights.>” Running during the day was harder; the sun was draining and weakened them and Na’vi seeing their speeds… was concerning. So nighttime was the easiest time to run freely.

“<And do what?>” Naswì asked, more curious but she knew he wanted to understand the plan behind it.

“<We know Sky people have been in that region so we can look through old fortresses they’ve abandoned for supplies.>” Sasta started. “<Food being a top priority but I’m hoping to find their plants in seed forms. They’d no doubt have to resort to cultivating on Eywa’s Child to continue to eat but… those supplies have always eluded us.>”

Everything had been processed too much in those little sliver packs to be useful to grow anything. They’d need a new Pa’li and sled for planters but they’d get that when they needed it. She was hopeful, that they’d be able to grow food for their human allies. Otherwise, they were on the clock.

“<Interesting idea.>”

“<If we can talk to the Kame’tire and ask for refuge, perhaps we can before our numbers reach them.>” Sasta also considered that it would save a lot of effort and their limited resources. “<With the newborn babe, it’ll be less stressful>”

Naswì hummed, pulling her against him. “<The Spires has a small pocket of Kame’tire, self-exiled from the main clan. If the Clouded Forest Kame’tire rejects the request, we can stay within the Spires and talk to the clan in that region. Anela will need a place to settle for the baby’s comfort.>”

Sasta relaxed. “<I’ll go ahead with Mìtsreng>” Her daughter would certainly enjoy the trip and… Sasta enjoyed the notion of mother-daughter time in this.

“<Will you take a radio?>”

Sasta’s face fell a little. “<I… suppose so.>” She hated those things, despite them being useful for long distances. “<Mìtsreng can look after them.>” Her daughter was far more comfortable with handling that alien technology and metal.

Naswì leant down, kissing her temple. “<I doubt we’ll need it but we know Anitalee…>”

Sasta smiled softly. Yes, that was a good reason. She spared a look at their temper stop camp. The kids were playing.. and the fact Javier had picked up his teen sister and was stalking towards the river with her screaming curses in a mixture of English and Na’vi…

It would be a peaceful trip.

“<I’ll make small preparations>” Sasta patted his hip, kissing his lips before she flurried away to find her eldest among the chaos.

Chapter Text

Alma’s head was throbbing when she woke up, groggy and confused as she felt new aches radiate through her shoulders and hips, a new crick in her neck and her mouth dry. She groaned softly, wishing deeply to just disappear from the new pains but forced herself to open her eyes.

The ceiling of the tube was still there, steamed up a little now but it helped jog her memory that she wasn’t in the shack anymore. TAP Con-1.

Her stomach almost panged again. Food.

She needed to do another search.

Alma slowly sat up despite the protests, her shoulder clicking loudly. “Fuck…” Pain radiated down her bones but… faded off. Either her condition or her age was the problem… she didn’t have the energy to figure out which. She tugged the water bottle from her bag and took a hefty glug which... felt good. Soothed out her dry mouth a little so she sat there for a while. She took a sip every so often to help replenish that feeling before she forced herself to leave it beside the bag and crawl out from the tube, her knees almost buckling with how weak they felt

Her back complained as well, but no joint cracking which was a relief when she stretched and eyed her surroundings. Nothing had changed. Same flooded room… dank smell… empty food boxes.

She licked her lips, pulling her mask close before she opted to carry on; she’d come back here anyway. The water echoed as she stepped down from the enclosed space into the flood water. Glad for once her shoes were water-tight to keep going without concern… until the water was too deep.

Alma ventured first off into the side room but when she saw the green food box… it was open. Opening it up, she was once again rewarded with the sight of no food bags.

She tossed it into the other room for now and pressed on.

Deeper she went, taking the vents which she suspected Haheylì had crawled through which weren’t too small so she comfortably lumbered along slowly without needing to crawl. Barely managing avoiding a drop into the water once but managed to slide down a pipe and around the water’s edge to dodge the stagnant bath.

Rooms were still hard to open, but most were still Labs or SecOps bunks. She found herself another granola bar, shitter than the last, but edible. So she ate that and carried on with that and pressed on.

She stopped when she found herself in an all-too-familiar space. Her office window is just above, in the wall to overlook the server banks and flora samples.

Well, hers and five others since the project had been vast to start with logistically. TAP hadn’t wanted to give her her own office despite the fact she had first drafted the TAP proposal as its founder.  She thought she deserved it as a co-founder at the time but that had only been a title with no power beyond a scientist… and later teacher.

Too blind to tell the difference back then. Thinking about the ends, not the means.

There was a stench of rot that made her shove her mask back on to avoid it, the dead Thanators mostly but there were a few SecOps Soldiers and an AMP suit that lay to the far side. Part of the same patrol from outside, it seemed.

She knew there was nothing here but she distantly recalled there was another storage area not too far. Alma turned and headed towards a set of doors, the control panel alive enough to accept her old codes before one door slid open a few feet and stopped.

After a few corridors, she found the signs and paused to stare at the door for a moment.

Cryo storage.

Typically meant for samples but with limited space, it was used for other things. It took hard tugging before it opened and she slipped a little but the cool air tickled across her face. While it had died when the power went down, the return looked to have refrozen the place.

Her eyes darted about, a part of her almost imagining ice pops on one of the shelves… then the silver case pulled her attention.

Cortez. A

Not food, but… was the case still active?

Alma scurried over, pulling it slowly from the shelf and setting it down before she bypassed the security tab, the power was still on, it seemed. A good sign. These cases were designed for long-term storage and even when not stored in the correct facility, it had its own power system to keep things inside alive.

She lifted the lid, the cold air rising out much sharper, sending a shiver down her spine but inside were three canisters within the opaque holder, one canister naturally missing from the four holes. The lights looked… good. Active.

Slowly she lifted the furthest one out, her heart fluttering at the sight of the little beating life inside with a sense of… bittersweet. A little thing, barely developed but clearly curled up, thin skin showing the heartbeat of life within, tiny match-stick limbs, translucent kuru and tiny little tail…

Her spare avatars.

Not common knowledge but given the mortality rate in the creation was so high, hundreds of avatar embryos were created at a time. Most died, but about four typically survived in all to a sustainable gestation; one was taken to full growth and the others were stored until needed, should an avatar die in gestation or years later. Cheaper made in bulk than it was one at a time.

She almost had hope that… this could have been a future. If she wasn’t going to be dead. The reality was… she’d never survive long-term to see a single one grow big enough for her to link up or transfer into it. Not with no food and the chances were, she couldn’t do it on her own with no supplies for it either.

Still, Alma felt a connection to it.

She set it back slowly. Re-securing it for now. She’d keep it safe for now at least… or keep it close. Wasn’t like there were a lot of options.

With the case in hand, she pressed on back towards her tank bedroom, pausing once to find herself a blanket and pillow from the dormitory and she set the case down beside the grow-tank when she did get back. The pillow, she tossed in and threw the blanket in after; that’d be comfy later. A proper pillow.

She could look forward to that later.

Alma groaned, pausing her steps in the module her head feeling light through a pang but she breathed through it, allowing herself to grip the side to stay focused, even as she felt the uncomfortable flutter of her heart. Something wasn’t right.

“No… gotta keep going.” She had to keep going. Food had to be close by. Alma downed the rest of her water, dropping her bottle onto the floor but didn’t have the energy to pick it up before she left. Following back towards her entryway, she found herself taking a less direct route, crawling painfully through a partially collapsed door and onward onto her feet.

Her hands felt shaky, even as she gripped the bannister. A large series of steps… her head spun a little. It felt oddly looming, but she took careful steps, one at a time. Pausing a very so often before she carried on.

Eventually, she made it down. Her legs felt weak now but Alma forced herself on and her path took her to what looked like a storage room. She sped up, almost falling in as her balance wavered but inside, it was messy, dusty and to her relief, four green cases.

She didn’t hesitate, pulling one off the shelf and opening it up on the floor.

A grin crossed her face as she saw the packets.

Food.

“Oh….” She felt like crying, pulling one out immediately and tore off the top and began to push the content up into her mouth, uncaring that it was a cold pasta and sauce; it tasted delicious. She couldn’t help the pure moan of relief.

Her head spun but she closed her eyes leaning back to relish in it. It was divine. Nothing better…

Thank god Haheylì was too fucking big to get this far.

She tossed the wrapper into the corner after squeezing out every last drop she could, licking her fingers clean and just… relished in the afterglow of that.

The silver bags were calling to her. She was sure they were whispering sweet nothings to her…

Alma knew she needed it and by God, she was very tempted… but she had to be careful; she needed to keep rationing it until she could find a way to contact the HQ for help. Too late to eat too much; refeeding may kill her within the next couple of days if she ate too much.

Alma didn’t know how long she leant up against the wall, but she knew she had to get the case back. She’d come back for the other ones now. She could up herself a pack in the next few days and get stronger…

The case was massive, but she hugged it to her chest and headed back up the steps slowly, smiling softly to herself as she went… though she felt her head spin softly. Like a rocking you’d get on a boat that was building. Her steps became unsteady, knees weak, her hand gripping the box tighter, as if thinking that would balance her. One step at a time up, but she felt her legs struggle each time.

Her head felt light and distant… even the colours around seem to turn paler as she took the last step up and her eyes rolled back into a wash of white... and her legs failed. The case fell as she did… bouncing down the steps and silver packets spilling out before the human body thudded after it, sickening cracks of bone snapping before Alma was sprawled at the bottom, blood seeping from the wounds along her arms and a large cut from her head.

She didn’t get up.

Or wake.

The forest was all but a blur, weaving through trees, jumping over the vast ravines and along the Great vines and mildly disturbing the wildlife but they were gone before they knew it. Even if her daughter lagged behind her, she kept up well and humming quietly to herself.

Running wasn’t something Sasta never enjoyed. The simple thrill of it, the distance and the ability to transverse terrain she’d simply need a Pa’li or an Ikran for. Never needing to worry about the drops or cliffs. But the most enjoyable part was to witness Eywa’s beauty in the land around. Many different places, even in passing or brief, were a blessing. The fog in the region was doing well to make this an easier trip.

Up ahead, she could see the mountain ranges of the Clouded Forest closing in fast. They had had good time.  Sasta slowed to a stop once they reached the top but her smile faded instantly as she saw just… a fog of unnatural, disgusting yellow hanging over the forest like a blanket of death.

Sky people's doing.

“<By Eywa’s grace…>” Mìtsreng gasped, horrified. “<What monsters did this?>”

Sasta swallowed thickly, sniffing carefully but she could smell the… thick cloying undertone of chemicals or sorts from all the way up here. No one would survive living in that. How was this forest still alive with this poisonous cloud? Eywa must be providing them nutrients of sorts through their roots and something small must have adapted to live.

“<We can’t bring our camp this way>” A new route would be better but… with the sky people damage, then she’d have to assume there’s be little hope they’d accept them on their lands. She couldn’t see any large forms roaming in the fog either, but she could see the shapes and… the distant shape of a metal form close to the far mountainside. A sky people fortress?

With this poison, the Kame’tire wouldn’t venture in and… well, they were primarily here for supplies anyway. They could explore it first and regroup to discuss new arrangements. Maybe contact the clan once a decision is made.

“<Is… that a sky people base?>” Mìtsreng noticed, squinting a little as her vision was not as good as hers.

“<Yes. Hidden in the mountain, I believe. Abandoned.>”

Mìtsreng perked up a little. “<let’s venture in. I… I think I can work the computers and see why they’re here or where they keep their supplies.>”

Sasta’s eyes rose to the clouded sky, noting the brightness but it was lower so night would be upon them within the next couple of hours. Sure, why not spend the night raiding the fortress?

“<Let’s see if you can enter the fog unharmed.>” That was important.

The two jumped further down until they reached a small incline, easy enough to climb down from or up quickly. The fog was… heavy, even when Sasta entered. It shot into her lungs and she could barely smell anything. Her breath held, which was the more pleasant option.

Mìtsreng entered after, more cautiously and took a careful sniff before gagging and holding her breath too. “Ugh..” The sound still echoed.

But there was no indication of harm or pain. Relief settled upon her still heart.

The fog as they darted towards the base was cold, offering more resistance but nothing to worry about, even as they jumped and flowed with the motion of gravity across rivers. Very few heartbeats, but the sound of small insects was a relief at the very least. The building became very clear, disgusting in it’s placement, the rotting bodies of sky people’s remains but she couldn’t help but notice the fog seemed to be… eating at them too. Did they come back here and have a run-in with a Na’vi? The arrows made it likely but how could a Na’vi live and breathe? Unless… they had a sky person mask to breathe safe air?

They bypassed the fallen bodies, and into the airlock, before she took a careful breath and sighed deeply in relief. There was…background scent of the fog but it was lesser now. Cleaner. Also, there was a more recent scent, about a day old, that lingered. Human.

Sasta listened out but.. she heard it, slow steps… movement of things but the thudding heart was loud on its own.

“<Why is a human living here on their own?>” Sasta asked, confused. It was clearly abandoned, had nothing to do and was not safe with the poison blanket outside.

“<Perhaps raiding this place too?>” Mìtsreng offered, sniffing as well and began to follow her nose out. “<Deep inside.>”

Sastra hummed but flittered ahead through the facility, following where the scent was strongest before she found herself stepping into a semi-flooded room, a tank inside a plastic-wrapped frame and inside that was a blanket and pillows. Bags lay about and she could smell the human had left this area for at least forty minutes ago.

A single human, far away from anyone? It was odd. Why? Did she… escape the Sky people and hide out here? Sure, there was no doubt a lot of supplies for her to take or use to survive but… surely there were better ways than this. Maybe she feared coming across the Kame’tire? They’d no doubt kill all intruding sky people.

Sasta frowned, her eyes dropping down to a silver box for a moment, the scrawls of human writing somewhat familiar now.

“<Should we offer them sanctuary with our camp?>” her daughter asked, examining the tube, her nails scratching the glass a little. “<There’s bound to be plenty here for us all?>”

Sasta hummed in consideration. That was still an option. A few of their humans were the result of being left to die by the sky people.

However, she felt a shift in the atmosphere change as she heard the sound of a plastic case dropping and echoing down what sounded like steps… swiftly followed by the repetitive thump of wet, solid weight and the echoing snap of bone before there was dreadful silence in its wake a few seconds later. No more movements of the human person, just laboured and weak breath.

Sasta exchanged a look with her daughter in alarm before she flittered towards it, her nose picking up the smell of saturating blood in the air quickly, weaving through the corridors, pushing broken doors open with ease, her sharpened nails clearing through metal panels and soon enough, she found the scene of a very terrible accident.

A human female lying at the bottom of the steps. On her side, face buried against the metal flooring, hair covering her face as blood dripped down into a growing pool under her. She was dying, from the looks of it. The snapping of bones was shown in the angle of the woman’s limbs and how her spine looked a little… twisted with how her hip were angled. Not naturally, at least. It looked like a miracle that she hadn’t broken her neck too in the drop-down.

Sasta eyed the woman on the floor with a sceptic expression, sniffing carefully. Food packets decorated around her, indicating why she was down there to begin with. She could smell the lingering of food in her breath, so she had something to eat recently. The blood seeping from new wounds was far too tempting even if the woman smelt… ill.

Not an ill that was off-putting but ill in that it was clear her blood had very little nutrition in her veins. Her body weak with clear starvation given how wasted she physically was and most likely probably days away from death without anything proper to eat. Nothing the camp could fix on its own and from what she could tell… this woman wasn’t asleep. Not with that head injury.

It was kinder to simply kill her at this point than to let her expire naturally.

Still, it’d be a shame to waste her four litres of blood… a meal was better than no meal and the travelling had made her a little thirsty.

Sasta’s nail sharpened, turning the woman onto her back before she tore away the leather jacket, tossing away the scarf she had and cutting the smashed mask straps away from her neck to open up the space.

“<Sa’nu?>” her head turned a growl set in her chest as her daughter caught up with her before Mìtsreng looked at her in exasperation at what she was doing. “<You’re eating her?>”

“<She’ll be dead soon anyway. Why waste her gifts?>” Sasta replied, slicing away the shoulder seam of the red short-sleeve shirt to expose the woman’s neck and shoulder; enough space for her teeth given how small their necks were. The black bra strap wasn’t intrusive so she simply moved it away. “<She’s in a coma, daughter. She’s not waking up.>” She ran a finger across the cut and licked her finger clean. Could be better…

Mìtsreng licked her lips, her eyes lingering on the blood on the floor. “<What’s she doing out here? She doesn’t look like the typical sky people around here or those left behind.>”

Sastra tilted her head before she turned her focus down. Despite the fact the woman was comatose, due to the head injury given she could feel the warmth and pressure building under the woman's skull, accessing her memory was still possible. She could feel…impressions through the weight, guilt, shame and regret linked heavily with this place they were in but the why became obvious…

“<Exiled by the… sky people resistance in this region. They left her to die of starvation in the mountains so she thought there may be food here but... it seems they raided this place prior so there was nothing.>”

“<That’s so sad.>”

Sasta wrinkled her nose a little as she brushed a little deeper, a mild sense of aversion rising as she felt the echoes of the woman’s past come into view. “<She led the Sky people warriors to the Sarentu… and watched them kill the clan… and they took the surviving children.>” To put it lightly.

Sasta felt less bad about killing her, even mercy killing her. No wonder she had been pushed away. She could see that Sarentu had already killed this woman’s Dreamwalker in revenge. A fitting fate but forced out to die… that felt perhaps a little too much on top of the exile. If they wanted her dead, they should have just killed her then and there. Unless… they wanted her to suffer? Sounded more like a sky person decision than a Na’vi one.

Nonetheless, Sasta didn’t pity her much as she lifted the limp woman up under her arms, leaning her against her torso, resting her a little onto her thigh as she knelt to make it more comfortable given the vast size difference. Not that the woman would know given the damage to her spine.

Her broken arm hung down, her legs limp and her skin felt cool to touch but the warmth underneath the thin limbs was still present. Very little muscle or fat; she could feel her bones, especially her spine and ribs far too easily. Once she was drained, she’d at least bury her outside the Yavä tainted forest.

Some dignity in death at the very least. Sasta would allow her that grace.

Mìtsreng simply collected up the dropped food at the very least and set them into the case, then headed past into the storage and she stopped listening to focus on her prey.

Sasta just leaned down to the crook of her neck, her hand cupping the greying head from lolling too far back, her teeth sharpened and bit deeply into the thin layers of skin, scraping the collarbone. It took an effort to not bite down too hard since human flesh was so soft in comparison to Sturmbeest's hide, too hard and she’d bite through the flesh and bone entirely. That’d kill her too quickly and waste too much. The warmth and wash of blood saturated her tongue in an instant. Her mind became hazy as the familiar euphoric rush that came as the blood pumped fast into her mouth with each thud of the human’s heart. Swallowing quickly which warmed her first stomach pleasantly. It had been a while since she had fed from a human… Animals were good but… humans were better. More pleasing… enjoyable.

There was no response from the human she was feeding off, not a jostle or a twitch aside from the intake of breath in her ear at the first bite but there was nothing. Death would claim her in her sleep. No fuss, little mess, as mediocre as her blood tasted in comparison to a healthy creature but she still enjoyed the rush a fresh feed gave.

Something echoed and buzzed behind her but she didn’t care for it, adjusting the human a little more in her arms before she heard a sharp intake of breath and movement get too close.

“<Sa’nu, Anita wants her alive!>”

The touch to her tail brought her back before she pulled her teeth away and snarled into her competitor’s direction, holding her prey away from being grabbed easily, even as the young one leant away, and hissing back.

“<Sa’nok!”>” The voice was sharp, commanding but she was not like her. Too weak to attempt anything.

The vampire growled, the sound reverberating around as blood rolled down her lower lip and chin.

“<Sa’nok.>” The dhampyr moved slowly, deliberately, “<Hold your breath. Let your mind return through your instincts>”

She didn’t want to do that. The smell of blood was in the air… smelt wonderful. A vague sense of recognition filtered in to see past the Dhampyr… no, this was her daughter. Sasta stopped breathing, the seconds dragging on before she felt… most of herself return and blink. No, her daughter was of no threat.

“<Sa’nu…” Mìtsreng said, her hands out, eyes wide but relieved as she saw her. “<Anita called in. We need that human alive.>” Gesturing down to the meal in her arms.

Sasta stared for a moment, confused. Licking her lips first and swallowing down the precious little that escaped her. Her hand came to the rolling beads of blood down her chin, collecting the dips and licked her fingers too. “<Why>”

Mìtsreng shook her head, her eyes dropping down, “<She didn’t say but… given her state, you’ve to turn her, Sa’nok. We can get back to the others quickly>”

Sasta looked down at the pale, weak, near-dead human and the pool of precious red blood dripping down onto the metal floor. It’d take only a few deep feeding minutes to finish her off and she could relish the lingering joy of her meal. The satisfaction…

“<Sa’nu.>” said Mìtsreng, pulling her away from following through with the instinct to do that.

“<Fine…>” She didn’t want to be a sire to this human… but there must be some sort of reason for it to interrupt her damn feed. Maybe Anita could take over her once they were back?

Her fangs were easy to slice into her own vein of her wrist, allowing the dark blue blood to surface and pool before she leant the woman’s head up enough, her jaw flax and easy to let the blood drip past her lips before pressing her wrist to her mouth. Much like Vampire venom causes human blood to not clot, human saliva had the effect similarly when exposed to a vampire’s blood wound; to make the act of blood flow easier from their veins without the beating heart. A necessary trait to allow for easier conversion, Anita had said.

Her wrist stayed there for a moment, the seconds counting in her head before she finally felt the human respond, swallowing shallowly. A few moments later, the deep bite marks stopped bleeding and began slowly healing, but the scar of that would remain for a long while after. Sasta pulled her wrist back, licking over the wound and the skin knitting back together easily.

She tittered softly, opting to rip off the blood-stained shirt and left it, stripping her down after a moment of consideration, cutting the shoes off with her claw and tossing the unnecessary boots into the messy pile. Bloody clothes and lingering human scents would make her harder to manage once the conversion was complete.

“<Here, from her bags.>” Mìtsreng handed her a clean blue tank top and grey, ‘joggers’ that looked like they should have been form-fitting if she wasn’t half-starved. Most of the stuff inside her bag, she wouldn’t need again. Mìtsreng took the tablets and some of the technology items and hair beads and put them into their bags, then dumped the rest out. They’d make her new clothing and needing them would be enough motivation for the woman to learn. Oddly, she had a hold of that metal box but Sasta didn’t question it for now. The cases of food, she condensed down, adding a few more things from the storage room into it.

“<She’d going to be difficult…>” Sasta sighed, putting the emergency mask from a wall cabinet since it was closest and put it on her little face.

“<How can you tell?>”

“<Weight. Weak, malnourished and underweight. Her body will demand feeds every few hours until her muscles redevelop. It’ll take weeks…perhaps months before she’s strong>”

“<Ah,> Hangry, <as Hope likes to say>” Mìtsreng pointed out, finished up before they took their leave quickly from the human fortress with the human in her arms. “<Best we keep her away from the humans of the group until she’d got control.>”

“<Indeed.>” She was dreading it… but she trusted Anitalee that there was a purpose here and she wasn’t going to be dealing with the exiled woman alone. Anela might help… hopefully, assuming she could get time away from her newborn.

Once out, Sasta took the lead and darted out in a blur northwest out of the Clouded forest.

Anqa was nearly bouncing as Haheylì worked her magic with SID onto the black box. The ship now working, but after several failed restorative attempts, she was going for the last option. SID.

Honestly, should have been her first option but Anqa hadn’t wanted to get Haheylì involved any more than she had to but she was out of ideas now.

“Any luck?”

“Getting there.” Anqa sighed deeply, glad for Nalin to make time for this trip. A few days without food wasn’t going to kill Cortez… but at this point, it felt only right to ask Nalin to give her a check-up given how they hadn’t been able to announce to the exiled woman of the delays. She might be fine… or she might be struggling and she’d rather make the trip as one than back and fourthing.

For a new minutes, they waited before Haheylì’s body language shifted. “Here,” The screen beside her lit up and Anqa lent towards it as low and behold, coordinates began to resume. A few actually, over the course of the week but Anqa bypassed the ones she knew were just old RDA bases that they had raided. One shack location and finally, the mountains, the Y coordinates the give away as it was the highest point in all the list.

“Thank you, Haheylì.” Anqa nodded her thanks. “Let’s go.”

“I’ll join you.” Haheylì offered.

“You don’t have to.”

“I know.”

Judging by the teenager’s expression, Anqa wasn’t going to convince her otherwise so she nodded and hopped into the Samson and Nalin followed with her med kit.

It took very little time, to get going and soon enough, the Samson fired out fast from the depth of the cave, followed by Haheylì on her Ikran.

The sky was clear, with no signs of RDA but Haheylì did side-track to break up a hunting party of Ikran for ease of flight.

“Do you think she’s okay?” Anqa asked Nalin as they flew over the starting edges of the Yavä.

“Physically, probably better than her mental health if she thinks we left her without food,” Nalin admitted. “She’ll alright but if she’s been out of food longer, there’s a chance we’ll have to take her back. When humans starve, their biochemistry changes to adapt without the intake of sugars and nutrients and go from the stored fats.”

Anqa had seen Cortez’s human frame to know the woman was thin, so probably not a lot of reserves. Still, a few days.

“I say that because if’s she depressed, incredibly bitchy or just… in a complete mood, most of that is just a biochemical reaction.” Nalin carried on.

Anqa said nothing, but her heart fluttered a little as she finally spotted the correct peak, checking with her coordinates before closing in. The shack was still there, tucked out of sight with the trees but she parked quickly and Nalin was the first out before she followed with the case of food rations. Haheylì jumped down off the Ikran a moment later.

“Alma?” Nalin banged on the window in passing before they both slipped into the airlock, she didn’t take her mask off, even in the changeover before the doors were open and they both nearly fell in.

Her eyes darted about, going for the beds first, expecting to see her curled up asleep or something. The bed was empty, the blankets were thrown open and just left unmade. Nalin set her bag down on the table, headed to the bathroom and knocked before carefully opening it.

“Alma?”

Anqa jumped at Haheylì’s massive face suddenly peering through the window. “Dear god…” She moved again, looking under the table then towards any other cubbies but it was becoming painfully obvious that Alma wasn’t here.

A very concerning fact.

Has she gone and just… left entirely? Did she get caught by something on a trip out and… was dead? Thoughts spun through her mind, even as she looked through the shack for any signs but… she noticed Alma’s bags were gone. Personal trinkets still were about but nothing… small. Her clothing was gone too, as was her bed wear.

She reached for the monitor but frowned as she noticed that… there was no connection to the HQ established. Like… at all. The monitor looked like it was strictly confide to itself.

“She’s not here,” Nalin said, her eyes concerned as she strolled from the toilets. “Shower’s dry and I’ve checked the water tank.”

“Check the blue wire for me, will you.” She reached under to tug the one she meant as she ran a systems diagnostic.

Nalin complied, following it down into the floor and then paused once the floor panel was up. “Oh-no.”

Anqa lent forwards, peering to see Nalin’s fingers peeling back a wire case… with no wire inside. Someone had cut the cords inside a few inches to make repair impossible. That should have been fine. She doubted Alma would do something like that. Why would she? She needed them.

Nalin moved, hurrying over to the bin and tipped it onto the floor.

“Nalin…”

“Just looking to see if the wire was thrown out.”

“Alma didn’t do this.” Anqa pointed out but she frowned as she noticed the collection of flat silver bags. Empty ration packs. That wasn’t that pulled her attention but… for two weeks’ worth of food, she expected there to be more.

A lot more.

“How many bags is there?” She asked, abandoning the monitor. Between them, they counted fifteen in total. Anqa ran another look through the shack for any other bins they could have missed but there were none. Sixteen days since she had last been here, there should have been only two days’ worth unaccounted for. There should have been at least forty-two bags in total to feed Alma for the fourteen days prior.

Nalin let out a concerned hum. “This is bad.”

A knock made them jump before they remembered the Sarentu who peered in, looking confused but concerned. She clearly figured Alma wasn’t here.

Anqa left Nalin inside, trying to squash the panic rising in her chest as the air changed and she stepped out.

“What’s wrong?” Haheylì asked. “Alma’s gone, clearly. Did she leave a note?”

Anqa anxiously fiddled with the cord of her mask. “I don’t.. I don’t know. But we overestimated how much food she had. Based on Johnson's report, I thought she started off with two weeks’ worth of food.”

Haheylì’s eyes widened. “Oh no.”

Anqa swallowed the uncomfortable lump. “By the empty packets, she had only five days’ worth of food. Someone also cut the wires out of the monitor cable so the secure line to HQ was dead.”

Haheylì’s eyes narrowed quickly. “That’s not a coincidence. Not on top of your engine troubles.”

Anqa had tried not to think about that; how it was aligning horribly to paint a picture that this had been set up against Cortez. Someone wanted her dead or to suffer.

“Alma’s smart, she probably rationed what she had to stretch.” Haheylì carried on, “When you didn’t show up the other day, she must have assumed the worst and left to find something. Anything at this point.”

“Resting Tree Lab is her next closet option,” Anqa spoke, thinking about the only options she could draw up that were readily available for someone who was weakened by malnutrition.  She was probably really pissed off but desperation was nothing to be joked about.

“Or the Kame’tire camps, Den of Solitude or Herbalist’s Keep” Haheylì added. “If she left a few days ago, she’s either not made it or almost there.” She didn’t look convinced “But… there is another option.”

“True, she could have offed herself. A lot of cliff edges… removable masks… Dangerous wildlife.” Anqa winced as she said this. Depression and the sense of betrayal like that… wasn’t too hard to think Alma wouldn’t.

“No,” Haheylì shook her head. “We’re very close to TAP Con-1.”

“Wait, that’s nearby?” Anqa blinked in surprise then her gut sank. “Oh, fuck.” It… made more sense actually. It was a base and had more opportunities to be food packs about. Despite the fucked-up part of its entire existence, Alma knew it personally. It was her first viable option.

“Okay… me and Nalin will head down and start the search. You should go back and talk to Alex and So’lek about the sabotage.”

“No, I’ve been through it already. I know my way around.”

Anqa stared, a little in disbelief. “But… it’s literally a trauma point for you. I won’t ask you to go there again.” Honestly, she didn’t want Haheylì to be there for her own sake. It was bad and… she’d be going through a lot for a third time. Alma wasn’t worth reigniting the teenager’s trauma, even if she was starving slowly. It wasn’t fair.

“You’re not. I’m volunteering.” Haheylì said. “You can’t stop me so either help me or don’t get in my way.”

Nalin finally left the shack, slipping a protected thumb drive into her pocket. “I’ve got the monitor download and I’ve taken pictures of the damages and trash.”

“We’re going to TAP Con-1,” Anqa said.

Haheylì bid her Ikran to go, taking the back of the Samson as they dove into the thick Yavä and was pointed in the direction of the horrible facility until Anqa saw the landing pad. It made her heart hammer to see the Sarentu without any protection but the girl simply wrinkled her nose as she slipped out the back.

Anqa felt grim at the mere sight of the base, even as Haheylì took the lead toward it. Nalin, with her medical kit just made a sad noise.

There were a few Samsons about, actually. Something she could come back for with De Luca.

Inside, past the airlock, was safe for them to breathe. So Anqa unmasked. Haheylì carried on, leading through the warehouse of cages that turned her stomach in disgust, the half-decayed toys and clothes. The showers…. The sharp smell of disinfectant… awful.

So horrible.

“Alma came this way,” Haheylì said, pausing at the sight of a broken window, which showed a few splodges of blood. Not too surprising with the glass.

They carried on and more signs became apparent as dust looked more clear, boot prints and things looked to have moved about. Lockers looked to have been opened in a few of the lab spaces and things just left on the floor.

Then, they reached a space where a huge tank was stored. Anqa recognised it as a grow tank. Was… was this where they grew Alma’s avatar.

Haheylì paused. “It’s open?” She crossed quickly and Anqa noticed the pillow and blanket that was inside the glass tube, close to the open end. A few items were about, like pill bottles and that’s when she noticed… sharp cuts within the glass. Three strikes along its rim.

“Did… Alma sleep in the grow tank?” Sounded very messed up.

“She’s not thinking straight and probably an attachment thing,” Nalin answered. “Look at all the cases.”

There were a ton of them. Green cases that decorated the floor around. Some looked to be stacked, but most looked tossed about and floated freely in the flood waters around.

“Shit…” Haheylì groaned. “I didn’t think…”

“What?”

Haheylì licked her lips, shaking her head, looking surprisingly… guilty. “I took the all rations for the resistance when I passed through. I… had the space, I knew Resistance supplies were low and I didn’t think anyone was going to come back here.”

Which… meant Alma had no access to food here. Shit.

“Everything or only from places you could get to?” Nalin said, still sounding hopeful.

Haheylì paused. “Where I could get to.”

“Then there’s still areas she could have squeezed into that you couldn’t have. There’s still hope.”

Haheylì hummed, discontent but clearly nodded herself to believe it…for now.

“Let’s keep going. If Alma was sleeping here, she must have planned to come back.”

Anqa led on through one of the side doors, but she couldn’t help but feel bad… as doors further in looked to have been forcibly pushed aside. The claw marks in the metal seemed to become more frequent and Haheylì looked more confused which meant this was either new or she didn’t come this way.

“I smell blood,” Haheylì announced, moving around them first. Anqa jogged after her, following down the corridor before they came to a very steep set of steps that opened out to a large corridor but… the blood seemed to pool at the bottom of it and looked to have even splattered about. Anqa followed it down with the Sarentu

Clothing was scattered about and Anqa recognised the scarf within a heartbeat as Haheylì pulled it from a larger pool of blood that looked to be cold and… sticky.  Nalin, still at the top leant down to examine the steps, looking grave.

Alma’s boots were completely torn, the shirt looked in a better state if it wasn’t saturated with blood. The jacket she had was also in pieces. Discarded, almost. Alma’s brown pants were just slit down the seams. Her bags lay scattered as well, open and belongings everywhere in the walk away.

Haheylì let out a shallow breath. “Do you… do you think a Feral got to her? I never went this way. There could have been more I missed.”

Anqa stared, turning her gaze down but it seemed more plausible for the lack of body. There was no denying the reality that… Alma was most likely dead now. With the starvation on top of this much blood loss… death was certain.

They were too late.

Fuck.

“She fell down the stairs,” Nalin called, coming down, her eyes roaming the steps. “Skidmark at the top, blood indicates impacts and… most of it at the bottom. She could have simply fainted at the top and fell but it’s hard to tell. Starving people don’t make good decisions and are prone to accidents or fainting spells. If she knocked herself out or passed out… she might have already been dead, even if a feral found her.”

Anqa stomach turned at the thought. An awful way to go on top of… everything. This wasn’t the plan. This shouldn’t have happened.

“I... I’m going back to the resistance… alone” Haheylì decided, jumping to her feet. “Excuse me.”

They didn’t stop her. Didn’t feel right to either. Anqa left Nalin to the scene, heading toward the open doorway which looked to be a storage closet. Looked half-empty and rushly done as well, but there were a few boxes and cases about.

Her eyes lingered on the sight of a familiar green tucked away in the corner, almost out of sight. She opened it and inside nestled a collection of sealed food rations. Food Alma had been so close to…

Anqa closed it sharply. Alma might be gone but they still needed this stuff too. Nalin looked to have collected up some of the clothing, tucking it into Alma’s bag, saying nothing as they took their retreat.

Fuck.