Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In cryo, you don’t dream at all.

You could say death was a lot like that. If so, then Corporal Phoebe Spence had been dead a long time, in an eternal, dreamless sleep. The old Phoebe, that is. 

The cold metal of the examination table dug into her tailbone as she slowly gained consciousness. Her eyelids felt glued together like she’d been asleep for years. 

Harsh lights blinded her immediately as she opened her eyes. Phoebe rubbed her eyes, and absently thought that her facial structure felt different, but chalked it up to the confusion one always felt after sleeping for so long.

How long had she been asleep? The last thing she could remember was preparing to attack the Tree of Souls… 

“Spence is awake!” shouted a voice somewhere to her right. 

Next thing she knew, her view of the ceiling was blocked by an unfamiliar blue face.

Her body leaped into action before her brain had time to think. She kicked the alien and heard it crash into one of the metal carts. Then blindly reaching out to find any sort of weapon, her fingers grabbeda scalpel on a nearby rolling cart. 

Still letting her instincts lead her, Phoebe stabbed the alien above her, fight or flight having fully kicked into the latter option the moment she realized that they must have captured her. She rolled off the table, and backed herself up against the window, then slashed at three more Na'vi she saw approaching to keep them away from her. Meanwhile, the one who had been above her clutched the wound in his shoulder as it spilled red.

For the first time since she arrived on Pandora 3 years ago, Phoebe felt terrified of the indigenous alien population. The gap in memory from preparing for battle and waking up surrounded by the enemy made her feel unexplainably small in a way she hadn’t felt since being in the Marines on Earth.

She was confused too, the aliens were all wearing human clothing like the scientists from the Avatar Program, and they were in a medical facility— 

This can’t be Hell’s Gate, can it?

Phoebe's heart pounded in her ears as she looked around the room. There was a human doctor cowering in the corner, and they looked far smaller than usual. The room was filled with scattered equipment that she’d sent flying in her outburst, and there was another unconscious Na’vi hooked up to a monitor on the table next to hers. The windows behind them looked out to a large room filled with tanks similar to those she’d seen in the labs at Hell’s Gate the few times she’d been there. Realization slowly dawned on her as she took everything in.

“No,” she breathed, “No, no, no, there’s no fucking way.” 

She clumsily made her way to the mirror on the far side of the room, the wires still connected to her haphazardly pulling the machinery along.

Her reflection looked like a distorted version of the face she knew, warped like one of the funhouse mirrors she went to as a kid with her dad. The straight dark hair framing her blue face only served to make her hate her new face even more, so vastly different from the ginger curls she knew and loved. She didn’t even notice she’d let go of the scalpel until she heard the metal clatter on the floor.

“Spence?” 

The man who'd been above her before cautiously tried to get her attention, but Phoebe was still staring in horror at her own reflection. “It’s me, Ja, remember?”

She knew the name and voice, but it sounded far away to her, almost underwater. Her eyes darted to his reflection in the mirror, but the pit of dread in her stomach wouldn’t let her gaze linger on him despite how vaguely familiar he appeared.

 She raised a shaky hand up to trace the lines of her face, the feline nose, and more angular bone structure. Her eyes were a sickly shade of yellow now, almost the exact opposite of the steely blue they once were.

Another emotion was surfacing along with the fear and disgust she felt; anger at the na’vi, but most of all herself. 

Quickly, the animosity within her bubbled over. Phoebe raised her fist, then the stranger in the mirror splintered into hundreds of smaller images.

Chapter Text

The mirror shattered, turning the reflection of Phoebe into thousands of smaller images. Some small splinters broke off and embedded themselves in her knuckles, causing blood to flow freely down her fingers and stain the glass.

She wanted to lash out and punch the reflection again and again until there was nothing left to reflect her monstrous new image at her, but as was rearing back to do it again, someone grabbed her from behind and pulled her away before she could hurt herself more.

“Let me go!” She tried fighting and digging her claws into the arms that held her, but whoever was holding her knew her fighting style well enough to predict her moves. Along with their additional size advantage, they were easily able to keep her in place.

The man from before – Ja – was in front of her now, and gently held Phoebe’s face to make sure she looked at him, ”Calm down, Corporal, just listen to my voice. I know it’s a lot to take in right now but you’re okay .”

Instinctually, she jerked away from his touch. But looking at him more closely now, she could recognize him. Ja looked completely different now with his striped blue skin and large ochre eyes, but something about him still undeniably looked like him .

“A-Alex?”

“There she is. You and the Colonel are the only ones who fought this hard.”

She paused, “Where is he? How many of us were brought back?”

The person behind her released her so she could turn around to look at the others in the room.

“That was Mansk keeping you from trying to hit us again… Lopez and Brown are behind him. It’s us and Quaritch’s squad, I think. He’ll brief us after we’re all up and dressed.”

She turned around, instantly able to recall their human faces knowing who they were. Lopez was shirtless as he often was, and his tattoos were his most defining feature. Brown looked even more like a puppy than he did as a human with a different nose shape, and Mansk was the most recognizable as he was only missing a scar on his chin and his signature shades.

Phoebe was speechless.

“I wish we had time for a reunion right now Corporal, but your blue ass is hangin’ outta your medical gown,” Lopez snickered.

“Yeah, go get geared up,” said Brown. He took Phoebe’s hand to make sure she didn’t fall before she was used to walking and guided her to the exit.

Behind them, the human doctor had decided it was finally safe enough to emerge from his corner. “Uh, wait. Before you leave I need to run vitals… to make sure everything with your new body is in order.” He had to strain his neck to meet their gaze. “I-I’m Dr. Castello, by the way, I’ll be taking over as head researcher. My avatar won’t be decanted until we’re on-planet, but I’ll be able to give you all better care when I can access it.” He had a thick accent, but Phoebe couldn’t quite tell where it was from. She could recall that there were a lot of foreign SciOps guys at Hell’s Gate, though.

“Thanks, Doc.”

The locker room on the ship was pretty much empty because the others wanted to make sure Phoebe had some privacy while she saw her new body for the first time.

She stared at herself in another mirror now, seemingly unable to escape them. Seeing herself without the gown was… strange. Where she used to be very short and curvy, she was now tall and thin, like she’d been stretched out. Her freckles were replaced by tiger-like stripes, and her tail dangling behind her added to that effect.

Phoebe had to practically drag her eyes away from the mirror above the sink so she could redirect her attention to her belongings. There was only a single duffel bag with her name and RDA ID number on it, and it was barely half full. She foggily remembered hadn’t asked them to keep much of her stuff when she’d signed the contract who knows how long ago. There were only replicas of clothes and accessories she’d worn as a human - sized up for her new body – her new tactical gear, and a few of the photos from her room. “ To think my life was so easy to pack up after I died” , she thought.

But she could only distract herself for so long. As she finished dressing and gathered the rest of her things, her reflection taunted herself from the corner of her eye. It was ghoulish, and she hated it.

“I spent years getting to a place where I didn’t hate myself, and now I’m at fucking rock bottom again. ” Phoebe put a hand over her reflection in the mirror, making it appear as if her hair were shorter. She had never liked having short hair, either, but it was preferable to the way this long black hair currently overshadowed her entire face.

Fishing through the duffel again, she found the brand-new knife she’d been issued. To a human, it would be more like a large machete, but for a Na’vi it was shorter than her forearm.

“I can’t believe I just thought of myself as Na’vi for a moment. I’m human.”

She shook the thoughts from her head as she unsheathed the knife. She met her own gaze as she made the first cut, the knife cutting her hair as if it were air. She felt sick.

Tears streamed down her face as she retched into the sink, but nothing came up; she hadn’t yet eaten since waking up in her new body. Someone must have heard because she heard someone knocking on the door, but she ignored them. As soon as her stomach calmed down she splashed her face with water, then picked up the knife again.

Once her hair was relieved of its own weight, some of its curliness was able to come back. She still didn’t like it, and it was choppy and uneven, but there were more pressing things for now; like finding out why she’d been brought back in the first place. But first, she needed to pierce her ears so she could wear her signature hoops, the only thing that could make Phoebe look like herself right now.

When she left the room, she bumped right into whoever had been knocking on the door. She looked up, but it wasn’t someone who had been in the room with her when she woke up.

She looked puzzled for a moment before it clicked, “...Prager?”

His right ear flicked when she recognized him. “Yeah, it’s me. I’m glad you could recognize me.”

“Your headband really gives you away.”

Prager laughed slightly at that, “And you have your earrings.” He looked a bit concerned again after a moment, “Hey, I heard you throwing up, are you okay? You cut your hair too…”

For a moment it felt no different than it had when she’d been human, but his concern brought her back to the harsh reality of it. She looked away, uncomfortable, “It’s whatever. Still adjusting, I guess. I’ve only been up for about thirty minutes.”

“You should probably go watch your video log then.”

“Yeah. Thanks for trying to check on me.”

She started to walk away, but Prager grabbed her hand. “Wait, Spence, I need to tell you something.” There was a slight urgency in his voice, a twinge of desperation.

“Can it wait? Until we’re on-world at least.” She slipped her hand out of his. “I’m still getting used to all of this.”

“Yeah… sorry.”

Chapter Text

  The woman on the monitor looked like a ghost. Not in the literal sense – she looked like a normal human woman – but it was the knowledge that she was dead. She likely died a long time ago.

“This is Corporal Phoebe Spence, and if you’re watching this log, it means I’ve died.” She looked incredibly distant. Sad.

“In case you can’t tell, you’re me. A recombinant version of me anyway, or recom for short; kind of like one of the avatars. We fly out in a few hours to attack the Na’vi and… and my- our friends.” She sighed deeply, “I don’t know how much you’ll remember from the past few days, but you need to stay focused. They betrayed you. If you’re watching this, it means I died because of them.”

Her voice wobbled, “I don’t want to kill Jake, but fuck, I have to! And if we failed, that means he’s still out there and now it’s your responsibility. If Norm and Trudy are still alive, do what you can to keep them that way. Noah too, you know Kevin’s ghost would never forgive you if you hurt them.”

Parker Selfridge came in from the side of the screen, “Hurry up Spence, time’s ticking.”

She ignored him. “Semper Fi, Phoebe.”

The screen froze when the video ended, the countless emotions she was feeling while recording the message etched into her freckled face. It was how looking into that mirror when she woke up should have felt.

“You good, Spence?” Lyle had been floating next to her in the zero-gravity chamber while she watched her log. He had been the first of them to wake up and the quickest to adjust, so he was helping everyone where he could. Corporal Wainfleet had never been the best at emotional support, though.”

Spence’s gaze remained on the screen, “I will be. It’s still a lot to handle right now.” Her mind was elsewhere, playing back her last memory of the people she cared about. How they left her behind, and wouldn’t even let her apologize.

“Well, you were the last one up, so Colonel will brief us whenever you’re ready.”

“Thanks.”

“Oorah,” he said before pushing off to return to an area of the ship with artificial gravity.

When he was gone, she looked at the screen again. She didn’t know yet how long she’d been dead, but despite how many years had passed that painful memory her past self had mentioned was still fresh in her mind. It felt like only a few days had passed since. Technically, that’s exactly how long it had been.

“I love you.” That day still felt like a fresh wound.

Spence shook the memories from her head. Focus .

The weight room was nearly overflowing. Aside from the other recoms, there were some human soldiers packed in there as well. This area of the ship was filled with Pandoran air for the recoms, so the humans needed to wear the O2 masks she’d always hated wearing.

The humans weren’t doing much, but many of the recoms were lifting weights, building muscle that the hormones their bodies had been grown with just couldn’t compensate. She recognized them all almost immediately – Zhang, Fike, Z-Dog… She didn’t see Quaritch yet, though. She took an empty spot on the bench where Ja was sitting to wait for the briefing, not in the mood to chat with anyone.

The Colonel came in shortly after she did, and a hush fell over the room as he walked to the window at the front. Spence noticed that after becoming a Na’vi, he looked much younger. The signature scars on the side of his head were missing as well. In fact, everyone looked younger and unscarred. Perks of a newborn body, she guessed.

“You’re not in Kansas anymore. We’re goin’ to Pandora,” It was almost the exact words he’d started every new arrival briefing with, including the one she sat through when she first got to Pandora sometime in 2151. Even the way he stood in front of the window looking out onto the planet was reminiscent of the cafeteria back at Hell’s Gate. The others in the room seemed to feel the same déjà vu.

She spaced out for most of his speech but focused again when Lyle asked about their mission.

“Our mission is to hunt down and kill the leader of the Na’vi insurgency,” a few people growled, “The one they call ‘Toruk Makto’. Jake Sully.” There was a certain venom in Quaritch’s voice when he said Jake’s name. Most of the room cheered or fistbumped each other. Spence just felt sick to her stomach again.

When they all calmed down, she finally asked, “So how long have we been out?”

Quaritch eyed her for a moment. Maybe he didn’t expect her to ask. “It’s been about 16 years. Long enough that if any of your traitorous friends are still alive, they’ll have surely forgotten about you. So don’t let your emotions get in the way.”

She shrank into herself. Quaritch had only ever spoken to her like that when he was genuinely upset with her. “Yes, sir.

Someone else, possibly Walker, asked him what their ranks looked like. 

“This mission has been entrusted to us, minus one from Spence’s squad, of course,” Kevin had signed the Project Phoenix paperwork just weeks before his death. “Ripper and Anderson squads are on standby, along with copies of each of us, just in case we shit the bed or another mission comes up.”

Everyone looked as if they still had questions, but the nerves in the room kept anyone from asking. Maybe it was for the best that no one said anything more. It was already enough to find out they had been dead for 16 years and their other comrades were still on ice, there was no need to add to that trauma pile for the time being.

“If there’s nothing else, gather your shit and get suited up. The shuttle leaves at 09:00.”

Spence was one of the first recoms to arrive at the docking bay where the Valkyrie shuttle waited to bring them down to the planet. Humans bustled about, loading the last of the gear onto the shuttle. Quaritch was easy to spot, towering over the hustle and bustle. He was looking out the viewport at the planet, but turned when he heard her coming.

“Corporal.”

“Colonel.” She saluted.

“At ease,” he faced the window again. “I want you to come with Lyle and me to meet the new head of security.”

She joined him by the window, “I thought you were mad at me.”

He smirked at her, easily melting away the concern she had. “I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at the previous version of you and her choices. But you’re not that Phoebe, just like I’m not that Miles.”

Chapter Text

The shuttle was dead silent, save for the sounds of the ship itself as it transported recoms, humans, and cargo alike down to the surface of Pandora. The humans sitting across from them on the ship appeared to mainly be soldiers, and each and every one of them looked at the two-meter blue hybrids with varying degrees of disdain and disgust. SecOps soldiers at Hell’s Gate had to get used to scornful looks from the science guys, but this was on an entirely different level. 

Hell’s Gate…

Spence forced herself not to think about the state it must be in now, but she couldn’t help but think about her most recent memories there. How everything came crashing down around her in the final days of her life.

“Walker told me she pulled the plug on your links?” Phoebe was out of breath, having run across Hell’s Gate to their cell the moment she’d returned to base and been told they were thrown in the brig. “What the hell happened?”

Dr. Augustine was livid, “You know what happened, jarhead, you destroyed their tree, their home! Women and children died!”

“Is that true?” Norm sat up on his bunk. The look he gave her, full of accusation and hurt, broke her heart into a million pieces. “Phoebe, were you there?”

“I-” She put her hand on the plexiglass door, “I didn’t want them to die. Jake, you were supposed to get them out, what happened?”

His wheelchair had been facing away from her until now. When he rotated it, she saw just how different he looked since she’d seen him a few weeks ago. He looked hopeless. “You tell me.” There was acid in his voice.

“I had orders, I didn’t have a choice. You’re a Marine, you should understand!”

“Hundreds of people are dead because you didn’t have the sense to do the right fuckin’ thing, Spence.”

She looked to Norm, who refused to look her in the eye. “Norm? Please.”
“You should go.”

“...Fine. But please let me explain myself when they release you.”

After a smoother-than-expected landing, everyone quickly shuffled off the ship and into the fresh air- well, it was fresh for the recoms. They were finally able to remove the CO2 masks and take in the Pandoran air for the first time. It smelled so… vibrant. Well, except for the smells of the shuttle and the city that sprawled out before them. This must have been what it was like before Earth was too far gone to be saved. Before Pandora became humanity’s only hope.

Among the frenzy of people and vehicles, one man headed straight for the squad. There was a vibe about him as if he had been at this base for years even though it was barely a year old. He saluted before speaking, “Colonel, Corporals, you’re to come with me to speak to the General. The rest of you can follow the crowd to the barracks and await your orders while you settle in.”

General Ardmore had a knife-sharp aura that irked Spence even just on a first impression. Unwillingly, her ears flicked back and her tail stiffened; she still wasn’t in control of these new Na’vi instincts, and Lyle noticed from where he walked next to her. Quaritch noticed nothing though as he waited for Ardmore to finish pounding the punching bag with her Skel Suit before he and the other two could salute her.

She walked them through the city, and even if she wasn’t acting essentially as a tour guide, it was clear the immense progress that had been made since the RDA’s return. Even with the extra height, Spence had to strain to look up at the tops of the cranes and buildings. She hadn’t seen anything of this scale since before she left Earth, where the skyscrapers were packed so tightly together you could hardly see the sky when you looked up. That was one of the few things she liked about Pandora, the concrete jungle gave way to the real jungle.

Ardmore loved to boast about all she had accomplished with Bridgehead City in the past year. Comms center, weapons foundry, residential areas, even the damn plumbing. The walking tour finally ended when they entered what at first appeared to be a normal airplane hangar, that is until the hissing sound of massive industrial 3d printers reached their ears- this is where they printed pieces of everything from Skel Suits to ships to buildings. The efficiency of this thing combined with the swarm assemblers was exactly how Bridgehead City could have popped up so quickly at all.

“I know you three haven’t seen home in a long time, but I’m sure you could guess that it’s gotten worse. Earth is dying,” Ardmore said as casually as talking about the weather. “Our task is to tame the frontier and make Pandora the new home of humanity. But first,” she looked at the three recoms before her, “We need to… pacify the hostiles.” She sipped her coffee nonchalantly.

Spence spoke up after a beat of silence, “Permission to speak freely, ma’am?”

“Granted.”

“By ‘pacify the hostiles’ you mean repeat the very events that got us killed, right?” She shifted her weight back and forth, worried the general would immediately think she was questioning her authority. Or worse, if she knew about Spence’s complicity in Jake escaping Hell’s Gate before the final battle back then, she feared the general would think she was downright traitorous. Her tail twitched between her legs, agitated.

Ardmore’s mouth flattened into a thin line as she sized up Spence as if noticing her for the first time. “A valid question, Corporal. It’s true I expect you to potentially lay down your lives, but that’s part of being a Marine. The difference this time is that we have thirteen soldiers with military training in Na’vi bodies, and none of you are going to run off for an alien girlfriend.” She smiled, but there was no joy in it, “And of course, you’re going to kill the leader of their resistance.” She shrugged like she hadn’t just asked them to die for her, “Now, let me get out of this suit and we’ll go into the control room.”

The control room was twice as busy as anything they’d seen going on outside and had a staff to match. Anyone who bothered to look up when they entered looked affronted by the presence of the recoms, except one man. One of the men analyzing the holographic screens looked so much like Parker Selfridge from behind that Spence and Lyle both did double-takes and exchanged glances before he turned around.

“This is Charles Stringer, our new Head Administrator,” Ardmore said. “Unlike when Selfridge was in charge, you report to me .”

“Yessir.” All three of them said.

With the press of a button, Stringer activated more holo-screens, these ones displaying footage from the past year: the chaos of Na’vi raiders and their aftermath. Spence tuned out her superiors’ conversation as she stared at the footage. Any of the bodies among the flames and carnage on the screen could have been her 16 years ago.

She snapped back to focus when Ardmore’s assistant activated the large holoprojector at the center of the room, throwing up a scale model of the floating mountains.

“It’s a cave system somewhere in the Hallelujah Mountains,” Ardmore said. Even though she’d missed what was said before the hologram came up, it was obvious they were talking about wherever Jake had holed himself up with the resistance. Spence walked around one of the mountains, distorting it as she accidentally got too close. 

“Every time we send forces we take losses. Our hardware really stirs up the hornet’s nest.” She directed them to a screen where Samsons and a new model of gunship Spence didn’t recognize were being descended upon and destroyed by wild banshees. “Colonel, we think your Blue Team will be seen as indigenous, and won’t trigger the immune response.” 

Spence’s ears flattened. Whatever her plan was, she didn’t like it. There was a very good chance they could all just die again, so soon after being reborn.

“And how might we test this hypothesis, General?” Quaritch cocked his head. 

Ardmore looked up at him, ever imposing even at two-thirds their height, “The hard way.”

Quaritch grinned, fangs glittering in the green light cast by the holographic mountains surrounding them. “Outstanding.”

Spence felt fear and anxiety squeeze against her ribs, suffocating her. She fumbled for her CO2 mask as she tried to appear like she wasn’t stricken with pure unadulterated dread, but she couldn’t quite get her hands to cooperate with her brain. The others had begun to look at her, some with suspicion and others with judgment. “Sorry, still not used to this body. I’m too tall. It’s probably easier for you two, AMP suit drivers ‘n’ all.” She winced at her word vomit. Her hands finally stopped shaking enough to grab the mask and bring it to her face, shutting herself up with a deep breath of air.

The General raised her eyebrow at the Corporal whom she had assumed to be competent based on personnel data. “...Right. Tomorrow your Blue Team heads out bright ‘n’ early to the mountains to scout for the Resistance base. Dismissed.”

The walk back to the recom barracks was unbearable. People ogled up at the trio nearly every step of the way, and the sights and smells of Bridgehead were too much for Spence’s new brain to bear. Quaritch and Lyle walked ahead of her, talking about something that she didn’t bother paying attention to as she lagged behind.

Spence was quite good at keeping her emotions hidden while on duty. Something her commanding officer back on Earth had said when she was merely 18, barely even out of boot camp, had stuck with her all this time: ‘Marines don’t cry.’ An unhealthy mindset to have, there was no doubt about that, but the alternative was to let her own personal feelings get in the way of duty. Rarely did Spence let that happen, and the last time it did she let four traitors escape, resulting in a battle that the RDA couldn’t win and ultimately her own death.

She wasn’t watching where she was going, just following the two blue men in front of her. She didn’t even notice they stopped walking until Lyle threw his arm out in front of her, forcing her to stop dwelling on the past.

“Jesus, Spence. Watch where you’re going.” Lyle said. He didn’t yell, but maybe he should have. She felt like she needed to be yelled at.

“What?- Oh shit.” In front of her was a pedestrian crossing the likes of which she hadn’t seen since she left Earth where the overcrowding in the city could choke you long before the smog did. This one wasn’t nearly as busy, but she’d almost walked right into oncoming traffic all the same. “Sorry, I… got lost in thought, I guess.”

“This is a lot. I get it.”

The light turned green. Quaritch put a hand on her shoulder and urged her forward, “But we’re alive, celebrate that.”

‘I don’t think I can, yet’ is what she wanted to say. But despite her history with these two, they wouldn’t get it. Even now, when they’ve all been thrust into alien bodies that felt so deeply wrong , Miles Quaritch and Lyle Wainfleet were not the men you talked to about your feelings.

Instead, she does her best to push everything from her mind. Laugh it off. She can have another mental breakdown later when she’s alone.

The recombinant compound was in a separate part of the housing zone from the other buildings, and notably larger. Big enough to hold multiple recom squads, eventually. The 1st Recom Unit was on its own for now.

Most of the squad was in the main common area, which was a lounge adjoined to a kitchen. Quaritch ordinarily would have addressed Ardmore’s orders right then, but even he needed time to adjust to life as a recom, so he dismissed everyone until after dinner. Spence was about to retreat into her room to rot until then, but Lyle stopped her.

His hand was light on her arm, afraid she was too fragile. “Are you okay?”

Spence looked at his hand on her elbow, at the others in the room, and then finally up at Lyle. She didn’t want to reveal to the entirety of Project Phoenix that she’d been on the verge of melting down for the past few hours, so she pulled him aside into the hallway that led to their individual rooms.

“Phoebe?”

“No… Lyle, I don’t think I can do this.” She sucked in a breath and blinked rapidly, afraid she’d start crying.

He sighed. He sounded tired. “Phoebe, we’re all kinda losing our minds right now. I get it.” He paused, picking his next words carefully. “Look, you know I’m not good with comforting people or whatever, but I’m here for you. We’re all here for you, and each other. The only way any of us are gonna fuckin’ get through this without losin’ our damn minds is by supporting each other.”

Spence sniffled a bit, “That was surprisingly really comforting coming from you.”

Lyle laughs dryly, “Wow, okay, fuck you.”

“I’m for real though, I didn’t think you had it in you.” A small smile managed to break its way through to the surface, parting the overcast of dread that had been on her face since they’d woken up.

“See, there it is. I knew you could still smile.” He beamed back at her.

“Okay, okay. Maybe if I can sleep it off I’ll feel better. Thank you.”

“No problem, capitaine.”

Spence was feeling better until he called her that. Capitaine was Lyle’s jesting nickname for both her and Trudy, especially when they were in a relationship. An icy knot formed in the pit of her stomach, but she pushed it aside. You can think about your probably-dead girlfriend later.

Lyle’s gaze drifted behind her, “...He looks like he really wants to talk to you, so I should probably bounce.”

“Huh?” Spence turned, seeing Prager standing behind her. He had the courtesy to stay far enough away so as not to eavesdrop, but it was clear he had been waiting for their conversation to end so he could speak to Spence. “Oh. Hi, Prager,” she waved.

His ears pricked up when they addressed him. “Did I interrupt you?”

“Nah, man,” Lyle replied. “I was just leaving”. He leaned down to whisper to Spence, “Go easy on him.” 

Spence raised an eyebrow, but he turned and left to join the others before she could ask what he meant. 

Prager and Spence approached each other, meeting in the middle. She hadn’t gotten a good look at him before, but now Spence studied the details of Prager’s new face. He looked… strange. They all did now, she supposed. She tilted her head, putting the puzzle pieces of his face together in her mind. Pronounced nose bridge, tired eyes, the shape of his mouth…

“Spence? I think you zoned out, are you ok?”

“Oh. Yeah.” She blinked “The scar over your eyebrow is gone.”

His hand reached up to his brow instinctively. “Yeah, everyone’s are gone. New bodies.”
“Ah, right.”

A beat of silence. They stared at each other.

“Do you remember how I wanted to talk to you on the ship?” His tail flicked behind him.

“I’d almost forgotten. It’s been a long day, and it isn’t even suppertime yet.” She meant to add a lighthearted tone, but it just came out dejectedly.

Prager looked around nervously, “Can we talk in private? Like in your room?”

Spence tilted her head, “Sure. Is it serious?”

“Something like that.”

“Let’s go to mine, then.”

Spence’s quarters were a carbon copy of every other room in the recom facility- cold, barren walls, a lonely bed, and a wardrobe with a small mirror at eye level. The only difference was that in place of any windows, one wall was covered with one of those big flatscreens from Earth, the ones you’d set to nature scenes to make your dwelling less bleak. It was meant for residents of cramped and overpopulated cities. But living in an industrial zone on a moon colony lightyears from home was close enough.

It was all so gray, just like her quarters back at Hell’s Gate. But at least there she’d gathered some decor over the years. Now, she only had the small stack of photos that waited in her duffle bag, which sat on her bed.

She stepped into the space with fake confidence like she’d been in this room hundreds of times before and turned the dimmer switch to half. “So what was it you wanted to tell me?” She began unequipping the tactical gear she’d worn to meet with General Ardmore. It wouldn’t be needed until tomorrow.

Prager rubbed the back of his neck, lingering near the door like he was afraid to intrude upon her space. “I never really thought I’d get this far, so I haven’t thought about how to say it.”

She unzipped the bag and dumped out her personal effects, most of which were standard-issued recom-sized clothing. “Well, we have nothing but time now. A ‘second chance.’” She wasn’t really looking at him, instead busying herself with putting everything away.

He stepped towards her, “That’s exactly why I want to get this right, I wasted my first chance.”

There wasn’t much, so everything found its way into the wardrobe rather quickly. Spence sat on the bed and patted the spot next to her. She had to shift a few times to find a way to sit comfortably without sitting on her tail or the long braid that she had no control over.

The end of his tail curled, unsure, before he finally crossed the space and sat next to her. He left enough space separating them so he was nearly hanging off the edge.

The stack of photos lay between them. She lifted her hand, withdrew it, and then finally picked it up.

“Can I- do I have permission to speak freely?”

She looked up at him, “You’re my Lance Corporal, you can always speak your mind. Also, I don’t think that really applies when we’re in my room with the door closed.” She laughed dryly, thumbing through the stack of photos. Her ears pricked up when she came across a polaroid of her squad at Hell’s Gate. Spence stood in the middle, surrounded by Prager, Ja, Brown, Lopez, Mansk, and Kevin, before he’d died. It was one of her favorites. Everyone looked happy.

“It’s about that. I’ve been your second in command for a few years now and by your side all the time. A-and, I think we’ve gotten close. Right?” Prager picked at the seams of his pants in a feeble attempt to expel his nervous energy. His braid slid off his shoulder and thumped against the bed as he hunched over… His eyes weren’t usually so far from his legs when he was seated, and it bothered him.

…Oh. That’s what he wants to tell me. “Yeah. I think so.” In truth, she’d wondered for years if he felt this way. She would’ve given it a chance, before, even if HR would’ve reprimanded her for it… again. A story for another time. She was looking at his braid now. He’d cut off his shoulder-length hair some weeks before they uploaded their memories, so seeing the high and tight haircut with the long queue was odd.

Prager still couldn’t make himself look his corporal in the eyes, instead focusing his gaze on the photos in her hands. Jake Sully stared back at him, Spence planting a friendly kiss on his cheek. He couldn’t quite say anything until she shuffled it to the bottom of the stack. “I promised myself I’d- in the recording the past version of me left for myself, I mean. I promised myself I’d finally tell you how I felt after we won the battle. But,” he turned away from her, ears drooping and tailing wrapping closely around himself, “clearly that never happened.”

Her ears lowered as well, and dread pushed against her ribcage. “So… What are you saying, Prager?” Even as she was saying it she didn’t know why she asked. She knew.

“Ostie de criss, Phoebe,” he stood up suddenly, and finally, finally, met her eyes. She stared up at him, the photos in her hands silent onlookers. “ Je t’aime , okay?” His chest was heaving and he feared she could hear his heart hammering through his rib.

She snorted on accident, then slapped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry, I’m not laughing at you!” She looked down at the photo of her long-deceased dad, shuffled it to the back of the pile, then looked back up at him. “It’s just that I don’t speak French, you know that.” Nonchalance was one of her most practiced social skills, but it was failing her now. Maybe he didn’t notice the quiver of her lip in the dim light.

He looked a little frustrated, but if it was with himself or with her, Spence couldn’t tell. “It-” He was flustered, now. The blush was evident even with his blue complexion. “It means… I love you. Phoebe, I-”

“I know.” She cut him off. “I wish you’d… told me sooner.” Her eyes dropped down again. The photo she’d been dreading gazing upon had finally surfaced: Norm, Trudy, and herself. It felt like a mere three days since she’d caught them. But it had been over 16 years. For all she knew they were dead. 

“I never thought you’d feel the same way. And I was your second, if anything happened between us I would have been forced to transfer squads.”

“Oh.” She set the photos aside. They were too distracting for now. “Wait.” Her eyes snapped up to him. “How long have you been keeping this from me?”

Prager sat back down on the bunk, “I don’t know. It was gradual, I suppose. I saw you every day, so it was hard not to.” His eyes pierced hers, and she finally noticed the little bioluminescent freckles scattered across his face.

She breathed for a moment, realizing what Lyle had meant in the hallway earlier. “It would be so selfish of me to say yes to you right now.” 

“I can live with that.”

“Even if I don’t feel the same way about you yet?”

He reached up and gently pushed her hair behind her ear. It flicked instinctually when his hand grazed it. “I can wait for as long as it takes.”

“Oh my god,” she looked up and blinked back tears, “you deserve so much better than me, James.” Without the photos to occupy her hands, she now squeezed her tail, ignoring the slight discomfort that came from it.

“I don’t want better, Phoebe. I want you.”

“Why?” A sob threatened to escape from her chest. The unbearable weight of the past 12 hours threatened to crush her, but now James Prager was here to tell her that she was still worth something. “Why me?”

He scooted closer to her, closing the distance between them on her bed, and swiped away a tear she didn’t even know had fallen. “You’re so pretty when you cry… I mean-” he jerked his hand away in embarrassment, “I mean you’re beautiful. And strong, and funny, and so much braver than I’ve ever been.” He stopped for just a moment to catch his breath. “Plus, you’re a genuinely good person, which isn’t that common in SecOps if we’re being honest.”

A silence somewhere between stunned and disbelieving. Just hours before she’d had a breakdown merely at the sight of what she’d been turned into, this thing in the shape of Phoebe Spence. What have they made me? She just stared at him as she struggled to rationalize how he could still find any appeal in what she’d become.

“How can you possibly say that when I look like… this?”

“You look like you, like Phoebe.” He wiped away another of her tears, then gently pushed her chin so she’d look at him.  “Look, I know you have a lot going on in your head right now. I don’t want to make you feel trapped into a corner with everything I just told you, but I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself If I hadn’t.” He removed his hand, leaning away from her, “I’ve waited years, so… what’s a while more? I can wait.”

Before realizing she was acting, she grabbed his hand. It was clammy. “You don’t have to.” Can’t back out now, I guess.

“Wait, what?” The suddenness of her reply threw him off. 

“If you’d told me how you felt before we…” Spence gulped down the bile that rose in her throat when she thought of it, “...before we died , I think I would have said yes. I may not feel as strongly as you right now, but I want to see where it goes. I want to give you a chance, you deserve as much.” The dread that had taken up residence in her chest lifted as she spoke. She was terrified of what would come next, and riddled with the ghost of guilt from years past, but there was still hope. They just had to survive.

“Wow.” A small laugh erupted from Prager’s chest, completely free of the nerves and stress that tinted his voice before. “I expected heartbreak, but instead you made me the happiest man on Pandora.” He planted a swift peck on her cheek before standing, nearly smacking her with his tail as it wagged happily. “I think I should leave to let you rest. I’ll see you at dinner, oui?”

“Y-yeah.” She pulled her hand from his and covered the spot where he’d kissed her as if to trap the warmth of it. “Hey, wait a sec.”

Prager paused at the door, light from the hallway pouring into her dimly lit room. “What is it?”

Spence mustered up a soft smile for him, “you also look like you.” More than I look like me.

He smiled at her, then stepped out of the room and closed her door.

Her face dropped as soon as she was alone. In an attempt to lift the uneasy quiet of her room, she turned on the flatscreen that covered the wall across from her bed. There were very few channels compared to on Earth, and most of it was scenic: a live feed of the sea outside the city, a basic announcement feed, and looped footage of an Earth city. She stared at the people packed together in the streets and their hazy reflections on the wet asphalt. She wondered if it was somewhere she’d been. If her stepdad had been there in the years since she’d left. It made her feel sick, watching all those humans living their lives. She lost hers, and even if she’d signed the paperwork for this, nothing could have prepared her for the reality of it. She shut off the screen.

But the stack of photos still demanded her attention. The image of her and her partners was still at the top of the stack, almost mocking her. She’d made a choice the last time she saw them, and now she almost felt like it was the wrong one. Was it? She wasn’t sure. Maybe she never would be.

Phoebe didn’t really remember what she’d been doing in the hallway when she ran into them. She turned a corner and in front of her were Norm and Trudy, holding guns and heading toward the exit.

Trudy noticed her first. She raised her pistol.

“Guys, wh- Trudy, what the fuck?” Phoebe raised her hands in the air, stopping in her tracks.

“If you aren’t coming with us, stay out of our way.” Trudy tried to sound cold, but Spence knew her too well; this pained her.

“Are you serious?” Spence raised her hands, “Norm?”

Norm’s eyes were so wide they might pop out of his head. He held a gun too, but he didn’t dare raise it at her, and his mouth hung open as he tried and failed to formulate a response; clearly, he hadn’t expected her here, nor did he ever think Trudy would pull a gun on her.

Before Norm could respond, a door down the hall opened and more footsteps hurried toward them: Dr. Augustine, Dr. Patel, Jake, and Noah. Jake was holding a gun as well and didn’t hesitate to point it at her.

“Haven’t you done enough?” He was fuming, and unlike Trudy, Spence feared he may actually shoot her.

“I haven’t done anything yet, you’re the ones holding guns. Besides, I-” The scene of Homestree falling played back in her mind. Nothing could ever erase the sick crack the massive tree made as its bark split and plummeted to the ground. She could hear the screams of the people crushed, even over the rotors of the Samson. “I want to help.”

They all eyed her suspiciously. After all, how could they possibly trust her? She’d been in the palm of Quaritch’s hand for the entire time they’d known her. He knew every move she made, and he’d find out about this stunt too, in time.

Trudy lowered her weapon. “She isn’t lying, Jake.”

His eyes darted between the two of them, layers of conflict underlying his expression. Finally, he lowered his gun, keeping his finger near the trigger. He didn’t turn the safety on. He’d shoot her if he had to.

“I want to apologize-”

Jake cut her off, “Save it.”

Spence nodded dejectedly. She dropped her hands. “I’ll make sure no one comes through this area, so please don’t get killed out there, okay?” She turned to Trudy and Norm, who were now pulling on their exopacks to breathe the Pandoran air outside. “I love you.”

Norm’s lips parted, he was about to say it back. But Trudy pulled him into the airlock before he could.

Chapter Text

A knock stirred Spence from her sleep, but she kept her eyes squeezed shut. She didn’t even remember drifting off. I guess this brain is too new to dream up anything except memories . The knock came again, and again she ignored it, instead finally opening her eyes to see the photo that she’d kept ahold of in her sleep.

“Phoebe, come with us.” Jake and Dr. Augustine were already in the airlock, but Noah stopped and grabbed Spence’s hand while Max held it open for them.

“I…” She met their eyes. A part of her wanted to, but she had too much here. She shook her head. “I can’t. Just go, I’ll run up to the control center to make sure no one tries to kill you guys. Please don’t make me regret this.”

Jake spun his wheelchair to face them. “They’re firing up the Samson, Noah, we need to go.”

Noah hugged her tightly, “I’m not going to say goodbye, okay? This isn’t goodbye.” Their voice broke, shaking uncontrollably. “I love you.” 

Dr. Augustine gently pulled them away from Spence before she could even begin to hug them back. “We’re out of time.”

“I love you too, Noah. We’ll see each other again.” Spence didn’t have enough time for another sentence before the airlock sealed. Noah didn’t hear her say “I promise.”

The moment the door was closed, Spence sprinted to the control center.

The knock came again. Something in the base of her spine felt uncomfortable, but Spence thought the feeling was too big for it just to be some back pain; until it moved, that is. Right, my tail. I have a tail. Lovely.

This time, instead of a knock, her door cracked open. The light from the hallway was blocked by Prager’s head peeking into the doorway. “Ah, désolé. Were you asleep?”

She set the photo aside and sat up. “Mm, yeah. I don’t know how I managed it, though.”

“I can’t blame you.” He pushed the door open a bit more and leaned against the doorframe. “They sent me to tell you dinner’s ready. Can’t say it looks very appetizing, but… tont pis.” He shrugged.

“You mean they didn’t at least give us decent food for our first day alive?” She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and stood up. “And Mansk didn’t make anything?”

“I guess they haven’t stocked our pantry yet? I don’t know.”

Spence stretched out her tired joints, noticing how her tail curled all the way upwards as she did. It felt odd, yet nice. She glanced at Prager, who’d been watching. He blushed and looked away as soon as their eyes met. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare.”

“It’s okay.” She walked over to where he stood in the doorway. “It wasn’t weird.”

He looked down at her, then gingerly reached out to brush fingers against hers, asking for permission. She responded by lacing their fingers together. Her hand was warmer than his. Reassuring. “I haven’t told the others about us yet. Probably too much excitement for one day.” He stared at the bandages on her hand for another moment before letting go. “And they would for sure tease the hell out of me.” He stopped himself just short of making another comment, ears flattening ever so slightly.

She smiled at him. “You’re probably right. God, I haven’t properly talked to any of them today.” She pushed the door open wider so she could slide past Prager. “Come on. That nap has me feeling human again.”

The other 11 recoms sat chatting and bantering at one long table, exactly as they’d done together in their past lives at Hell’s Gate. Everyone greeted the two warmly when they came in, even Warren, who was known for being a grump. The only open seats put her between Walker and Prager, with Ja directly in front of her. He grinned at her, but it seemed forced.

They all had a tray of ugly, gray, prepackaged food in front of them, untouched. “Did you guys wait for me before eating?” Spence leaned back to look down the table. “Damn, even you Fike?”

Fike raised his hands in mock defeat, “Lyle threatened me, I had no choice but to starve while you finished your beauty sleep.” He smirked and a few others laughed.

Lyle was next to Fike and flicked his forehead. “It’s the first day of the rest of our lives, we should eat this shitass food together, as a squad! Oorah!”

“ Oorah! ” Everyone cheered in response.

Quaritch smiled and shook his head before standing up, drawing the attention of the entire room. “I’m not gonna talk about the mission again tonight, so you can get your panties out of a twist.” He pulled something out of his pocket, a small metal thing that was far too small for his large blue hand. “General Ardmore has deemed one of you fit for a promotion.” He looked around the room while whispers stirred about who it could be. 

Spence stayed silent, and the moment the Colonel’s eyes passed over hers her stomach churned. He’d said before that he wasn’t mad at this Spence for her previous actions, but she’d known him long enough to know what he meant: He was disappointed. And now he expects her to make it up to him.

“Lyle, stand up.”
“Yes, sir.” Lyle laughed and stood up so fast his chair slid backward. 

Quaritch smirked, “Ardmore probably wants me to give some speech, but I know you don’t wanna hear it. You’re being promoted for your loyalty , and-”

He was cut off when someone’s stomach grumbled loudly . No one was about to fess up that it was them.

“Fuck it, just take the promotion, Lieutenant.” He walked around the table and dropped the pin into Lyle’s waiting palm. “I’m starvin’.”

Laughs resounded around the table as everyone pulled the foil off of their trays. It was worse than Prager described. She knew it’d be filling, but the gray mush and dehydrated protein block were not inspiring her appetite, hungry as she was. Mansk sat diagonal from her and hopelessly prodded at the slop.

“Psst, Devin.” Spence tapped Mansk’s foot with hers until he looked up. “The texture of the gray stuff bothers you, right? I’ll trade you my protein brick.”

He pushed up his sunglasses and smiled softly. “Thank you, Spence.” Trading food wasn’t uncommon between the two, and even in new bodies, it was still a practiced habit.

She ate a spoonful of the mush and grimaced. “Why do you have your sunglasses on in here, anyway? The lights in here aren’t as harsh as Hell’s Gate’s.”

Mansk sighed. “Something’s… wrong.”

She grew concerned. “What is it?”

He slid his shades off and opened his eyes. Everyone in the room had irises in shades of green, gold, and yellow, except for him. Mansk’s eyes were steely gray and completely devoid of pigment. The blood vessels within almost gave them a red tint. Nobody further down the table seemed to notice, but the half of them on this end raised their eyebrows like they hadn’t been shown either while Spence was asleep. “All I know is I’m way more sensitive to light than I probably should be… Dr. Castello said he could run tests when we get back from the op tomorrow.”

“Mansky’s not the only one who cooked wrong either,” Ja chimed in as Mansk grimaced at the nickname. “Look at me.” He pulled his hat off to reveal a scalp just as bald as Warren and Lyle’s. “My cornrows? Gone! There’s not a hair anywhere on my body except this stupid braid, not even my tail. And trust me,” he smirked at Spence, “I checked everywhere.”

“Ja I can’t even be sorry for you, you made it weird,” Z-Dog said from next to him. “I, however, look amazing.” Walker snorted and nodded in agreement.

Prager set his spoon down a little too hard making it clatter loudly. Startling himself. “…Do you think the rest of us are okay? Or maybe someone else’s growth went wrong, and we just don’t realize it yet?”

Walker reached behind Spence to punch Prager’s shoulder. “We have no way of knowing, so don’t worry about it, man.” She slipped her arm around Spence’s shoulders and pulled her in close. “But anyway, what about you, Phoebs? The short hair looks great on you, by the way.” 

She leaned into Walker, “What about me?”

“Alex says you stabbed him. But honestly, he probably deserved it.”

“I did not .” Ja pulled his hat back on, “I was trying to be reassuring.”

Spence laughed at him, “I thought you guys were about to kill me, or worse!” She pointed at Lopez and Brown “I think those two handled it better if we’re being honest.”

Brown looked up from his project with Fike where they'd broken up their protein blocks and attempted to build a house with them on their trays. “Thanks, loca.”

Lopez rested his chin on his hand and smiled at Spence, baring his fangs. “Shame that Warren wasn’t awake to see the show. Or your ass.” He whistled.

“Oh my god, shut up .” She took another bite of her food and turned away from him.

Zhang leaned over and smacked Lopez in the back of the head. “Show some respect, Bènjiāhuo. Worry about your own ugly ass.”

Chuckles resounded around the table and Quaritch merely shook his head and smiled. The banter and conversation continued as they all just enjoyed their company and the feeling of being alive again. The feeling of being young again, as these new bodies were only around 20 years old biologically. Spence was only just approaching 30, but even she could feel the difference. No joints creaked, no scars pulled, no muscles ached. 

A few hours ago, she was nearly ready to resign herself to death again. It would’ve been easier than this, or so she’d thought at the time. But now, surrounded by her closest friends and comrades, she felt different. There was hope here. Even if they’d been robbed of 16 years of life. Even if three of the people she cared about most were probably responsible for her death. Hell, even if they had to eat this flavorless lab-grown food for the rest of their lives.

Ja bumped her foot under the table to catch her attention. “You spaced out, you okay?”

She smiled. “I think I am now.”

Chapter Text

One would think that a fear of heights goes away quickly when you spend 3 years as a door gun on a Samson, but one would be wrong. Spence used to always make sure she was securely clipped in, and even then she white-knuckled her gun when they got in the air. That wasn’t an option in the Kestrels that flew the Deja Blue team out to the Hallelujah mountains. Ja had flown in the same Samson as her back when they were humans, so he could tell when she was freaked out about flying. He kept a hold of her vest for the entire flight so she wouldn’t feel like she was about to fall out.

Descending from the Kestrel, Spence readied her gun. Pandora’s forests never scared her until she saw what they could do, when some thing out there tore Kevin to pieces and she listened helplessly to Noah’s screams on the comms. She’d asked to be reassigned after that, to be anywhere else but the forest. But now she was back, and she couldn’t tell if that memory felt distant because it was old or because it wasn’t her memory to begin with.

Thinking about that now, she should’ve been terrified knowing a slinth or some other horror movie-looking creature could be hiding in the trees in front of her, but she wasn’t. The forest around them was entirely serene. Dappled sunlight danced across her blue skin as she lowered her weapon and took it in, and the other recoms felt it too, taking a moment to listen to the forest. To smell it. You could never get this from behind the plexiglass mask of the exopacks that humans had to wear, and certainly not in any Earth environment. And better yet, nothing had tried to kill them since landing, meaning Ardmore’s hypothesis was holding true for now.

A whistle startled Spence, and she raised her gun again until she realized it wasn’t from an animal. “Y’all, I got a signal. Come check this out.” It was Lyle.

“What is it?” Spence asked when she caught up to him. The other recoms were all looking at something on Lyle’s datapad, but she couldn’t see past their big stupid shoulders.

Quaritch turned around when he heard her and stepped aside for her. “We think it’s my corpse. I should’ve been on the Dragon, though, and if that thing crashed we’d be able to see the scars on these woods.”

“Shit, man,” Brown muttered.

Spence stared at the point on the screen. It wasn’t too far from where they were now. “So that’s where we’re going?”

“Yep.”

“Copy that.”

Lyle was a shit navigator, but he was also a sergeant now, so he insisted on leading the way. He and Quaritch hacked through the bush as they made their way toward the blinking red dot, the rest of the squad trailing behind with guns at the ready in case any wildlife got the wrong idea. And a few almost did, peering at the group of recoms almost judgmentally before dashing back into the undergrowth. Spence could vaguely recall playing with a 3 render of one of them on Noah’s tablet in her previous life. Viperwolves, or something like that, but I think their Na’vi name is something weird and nasally that I couldn’t pronounce .

Z-dog found the way the viperwolves ran away from them amusing, “Heh, no shit.”

“They look a bit like dogs,” Mansk said.

Brown snorted, “Dogs don’t have hands , man.”

“I think they’re sorta cute,” Spence replied. “I’ve seen uglier dogs carried around by old rich ladies on Earth, anyway.”

The others laughed as they continued their hesitant journey through the bush.

After a few more minutes, Quaritch ducked under a fallen tree and into a small clearing with a decrepit link shack, the kind the SciOps guys used to use for field research. The Colonel barely looked at the shack, staring instead at the overgrown AMP suit that lay on its back nearby. That’s what they’d been tracking.

Lyle ordered the squad to perimeter up, and they fanned out around the clearing. Half of the squad went back into the forest, creating a perimeter to ensure nothing snuck up on them. Quaritch bent over the AMP to tear away the moss and leaves that had grown over it, revealing his own name and confirming that it was, in fact, his. Two large arrows protruded from the chest of the skeleton inside.

Spence found her throat had gone dry. She wanted to say something to him, but he seemed far away as he stared at those arrows. This man, who she’d always known to be unbothered by his own past traumas, a man who had always expressed bravado and confidence, had been felled by two arrows. Quaritch looked haunted by it.

He pulled himself away, turning his attention instead to Lyle, who was peering into the shack’s smashed windows. It didn’t take a genius to realize that this was Site 26. Jake’s link shack. Spence thought it was in the Hallelujah Mountains, so either they’d lied to her back then, or they’d moved it near the battle; neither possibility was a nice one to think about.

“Lyle, see if you can pull some data off that dash cam,” Quaritch ordered, gesturing at the AMP suit.

“That thing’s deader than shit, Colonel,” Lyle protested.

Quaritch gave him a look, “So were we.”

Lyle sighed, “Alright.”

As Lyle knelt down to plug into the suit, trying in any way to get the dash cam that had been exposed to the elements for so many years to work, everybody’s earpieces crackled to life.

“I’m hearing voices out here. Multiple.” It was Warren, voice low.

Spence put her fingers to her throat comm, “Any visuals?”

Brown replied, “Three blues. And… is that what I think it is?”

“What’s a human kid doing out here? And dressed like one of them?” Walker responded this time.

Quaritch gestured to the recoms remaining in the clearing to head out into the trees, “That doesn’t matter. Just surround them and grab ‘em. We can drag the whole lot back to Bridgehead when extraction gets here.”

“Yes, sir.”

Walker was the first to grab one of them, leaping out of the bushes as the blues passed and grabbing the smallest one. Everyone else followed soon after, pointing their guns at the blues and shouting at them in English, which they probably didn't understand. 

The human’s presence was curious, though. He was clearly just a teenager, but he dressed like the blues and painted himself to mimic their stripes. Spence squinted at the three of them as they dropped their weapons and were forced to their knees by her squadmates, who grabbed their braids to keep them from resisting. The first one was obviously a child, but the more she looked at the other two, the clearer it became that they couldn’t be any older than the human boy.

Spence lowered her rifle. Something about the human looked far too familiar to her, but she couldn’t place it. He looked like someone she knew. The older Na’vi girl, however, she recognized immediately. Her resemblance to Grace Augustine was uncanny.

Quaritch and Lyle arrived, coming up behind Spence.

“What have we here?” The Colonel asked.

Lyle’s eyes shifted between the kids doubtfully before something dawned on him. He bent down and seized the older girl’s wrist, “Colonel, check it out.” He twisted it around for Quaritch to see, eliciting a wince from the girl, “Four fingers. We got ourselves a half-breed.”

Quaritch stepped closer to her, and he seemed to see the same resemblance to Grace in her before grimacing before he turned his attention to the Na’vi boy. “Show me your fingers.”

The boy raised his hands, flipping Quaritch the double bird.

Quaritch laughed at him, dark and confident, “You’re his , aren’t you?”

The boy hissed in response, ears flattening against his head.

“You’re his, alright.” Fike, who had been holding his queue, released him and stepped back as Quaritch grabbed it and jerked him upward. “Where is he?”

After being accepted into the Project Phoenix program, learning the Na’vi language was compulsory. After all, there was no point in engineering an elite recombinant squad if they couldn’t even interrogate the indigenous population. Spence had done better than most of them thanks to her friends in SciOps, but she was intermediate at best.

The boy growled before responding in Na’vi, “ Sorry, I don’t speak English… to assholes. ”

Quaritch bared his fangs and twisted the boy’s queue, “ Where is your father? ” The kid cried out but gave him nothing. “You wanna play it that way?” He brandished his knife, lifting it towards his queue… before stepping away, turning his attention - and the threat of his blade - towards the older Na’vi girl once again.

“Hey- Hey! Don’t touch her!” The human kid was putting up a fight now, centering the recoms’ attention on himself. “Don’t hurt her.”

“What’s your name, kid?” The Colonel sized him up.

He looked terrified when Quaritch finally spoke to him. “...Spider,” He hesitated. “Socorro.”

Spence inhaled sharply through her nose. Everyone in this squad knew that name, and what it meant to their Colonel.

He kneeled and motioned for Zhang to release him. “Miles?”

Spider frowned, “Nobody calls me that.”

Oh, shit…

“Well, I’ll be damned. I figured they’d have sent you back to Earth.”

“You can’t put babies in cryo, dipshit.”

Spence saw that the shadows around them were growing fuzzy and looked up. The sun was slipping behind Polyphemus. “What are we doin’ Q?”

Quaritch stood and pressed his comms, “Iron Sky, Blue One, Actual.” a moment passed while Ardmore responded. “We are standing by for extract, over.” Another moment. “We’re bringin’ in high value prisoners. …Seems Sully isn’t a lone wolf anymore.” He waited for confirmation before he motioned for the squad to follow him and headed back to the clearing.

The kids had been cuffed and corralled into the clearing and the recoms spread out into a perimeter again when Lyle called Quaritch over to take a look at the dash cam footage he’d managed to recover from the AMP suit.

Spence stood next to Spider while they watched it. She and the kids seemed to have similar reactions to Jake’s voice in the recording, and she shifted her feet to avoid seeming so transparent about how she felt about this.

Why the fuck are we bringing children into this?

Due to Pandora’s orbit around the Polyphemus, it had two day-night cycles; your regular sunrise and sunset, and, on this side of the moon, an eclipse at some point during the day. Or at least that’s what Spence could understand from the briefing she’d received when first arriving on Pandora. She’d never been the scientific type. 

As the sun slipped behind the planet, rain began to pour. Spence would’ve been fine with it if her orders weren’t to point her gun at these kids while they awaited extraction.

Animal-like yips echoed between the trees, and every child turned to look at each other. Something was coming. Some one .

General Ardmore’s voice came into their earpieces, “Blue One, stand by ready. We are three minutes out.”

Whatever happens, we just need to last three minutes.

That thought had barely formed Spence’s mind when an arrow pierced Fike’s skull.

“Contact Rear!” Quaritch yelled as chaos ensued. They sent their bullets toward the source of the arrow, giving the kids the opportunity to fight back and make a run for it. Walker managed to stop one of them before she too was shot, the same large arrow punching through her torso and knocking her back into the log behind her. 

Just after Spence dragged Walker over the log to take cover, she watched her friend use her last breath to cough up blood before going still. Quaritch ducked behind the log as well to catch his breath. When he opened his eyes, he was looking directly at the arrow that stuck out of Walker’s chest. It was the exact same as the two that had killed him in his AMP suit.

The two of them share a look, follow my lead . They reload.

“That you missus Sully?” He calls out into the trees. “I recognize your calling card.” He exhales before motioning orders to Lyle, who passes them down the ranks. “Why don’t you come on out? You and I, we got some unfinished business.” He took Walker’s gun and reloaded it, slotting in a grenade.

Jake’s wife finally responded, “Demon! I will kill you as many times as I have to!”

Quaritch peered over the top of the log, readying Walker’s grenade launcher. Spence followed and adjusted her scope. “Guess you n’ the Corporal have been pretty busy, huh? Got yourself a whole litter of half-breeds .”

In the same moment, gunfire rang out off to their left, and they heard Prager and Mank’s yells. The Na’vi woman took the opportunity to run, prompting Quaritch and Spence to fire. The explosion of the grenade kicked up a cloud of smoke and leaves that she couldn’t see through, so she missed her shot too.

Every remaining member of the squad gave chase, but they didn’t even know what numbers they still had. Quaritch fired another grenade, and they could see that Spider kid tumble and fall from a large branch.

Spence could barely hear Ardmore order them to return to the extraction point of her own racing heartbeat echoing in her ears. She didn’t have eyes on Jake or the other Na’vi anymore, either.

When they found Spider, he was bloody and bruised and caked in mud. He opened his eyes when they reached him. He was clearly concussed, and it was a miracle his mask hadn’t broken. 

“Blue One, fall back !” The General barked in their comms again.

There was no time to think about it. Quaritch grabbed the kid and ordered them all to fall back.

They all ran back to the extraction site. When Prager tripped on a root in front of Spence and didn’t immediately get back up, Spence stopped to help him.

“What are you doing, come on!” She grabbed his hand and dragged him to his feet. She was panicking too much to even realize his bioluminescent freckles were dimmer than they should be. “We need to move .”

She kept ahold of his hand and pulled him through the forest behind the rest of the squad. They reached the clearing once more just as the bright lights of their Kestrel illuminated the area and frantically clipped themselves to the ropes that hoisted them up into the ship.

No one spoke on the return trip to Bridgehead. Some of them had watched Fike, Walker, and Zhang’s deaths, and Brown and Warren were missing in action. Ja was busy trying to stop Spider’s major bleeding while Quaritch stared distantly out the side of the gunship.

 Prager hadn’t stopped shaking since they’d retreated, which was uncharacteristic of him. He’d always been good at separating his emotions from the line of duty; something Spence struggled with. But now he was sitting next to her, holding her hand as tight as he could, and shivering. 

His fingers are ice-cold .

“Prager?”

He barely responded, just squeezed his eyes shut and grunted.

“...James ? ”

Nothing. He slumped into her, and she could see the light of the stars that freckled his skin go out. It was only now that she saw his other hand clutching his side as tightly as he could. He gave little resistance as Spence peeled away and saw his blue skin slicked with red.

“Ja, get over here!” She pulled his shirt up and, sure enough, he’d been shot. “Oh my god, why didn’t you say anything?”

This can’t be happening again.

Ja’s head jerked up when Spence cried out, crawling over Lopez and Mansk to get to them. He pulled up Prager’s shirt to reveal the mangled flesh where he’d been shot twice in the same place. “ Fuck , okay. Lay him down, and no matter what you do just keep pressure here,” He shoved some gauze into Spence’s hands and placed them over the wound, “And keep him awake. Talk to him.”

She put Prager’s head in her lap and pressed her down where he’d been shot. She’d been in this exact position before, 3- no, 19 years ago. It’s happening again.

“Just stay with me, James, okay? You need to keep your eyes open.”

Spence bent over Kevin while Carter screamed at the pilots to fly faster, but he was losing blood faster than the Samson could go. Ja applied a tourniquet at the end of what remained of his arm, but there was only so much he could do.

“Do you hear me, Kevin Siazon? I am not going to lose you, Noah is not going to lose you.”

He nodded weakly.

Lyle rushed around them to the front of the ship to shove his head into the cockpit and make the pilots pick up the pace. Spence continued to hold down on Prager’s wounds while Ja readied a syringe and injected it into his arm to slow the bleeding. She felt like her own heart would stop when Ja pulled her hands away from the wound and they saw how Prager’s blood had soaked through completely, slicking her hands in crimson. He stapled the wound shut as quickly as he could, but Prager was looking worse for wear. The light of Bridgehead had only just begun to glitter on the horizon.

Spence wiped the blood off on her fatigues and cupped his face, “See? We’re almost home. You’re gonna be okay, it’ll be okay. You just need to stay awake for me.”

Prager tilted his head to look, but his eyelids were dropping too much to see it.

“Phoebe, help me get the bandages around him,” Ja cut in. She lifted more of Prager up into her lap so there was room for Ja to wrap around his abdomen. 

The man could barely keep his eyes open, and Spence noticed. She patted his face lightly, “Hey, don’t you dare go to sleep. I’m ordering you to stay alive right now, got it?” A tear trailed down her face and fell onto his cheek.

As Ja finished wrapping the bandages, Prager’s eyes shut.

“Prager? James? ” She yelled. No, no, no we’ve lost too many people today I can’t do this again I-

“He’s still alive.” Ja pressed his fingers to Prager’s wrist, and then the soft part of his throat below the jaw. “His pulse is weak but… it’s steady.” He squeezed her shoulder with his least-bloody hand, “We’re at the edge of the kill zone now, he’ll make it.”

She took a deep breath. Bridgehead under the cover of night looked vastly different than in the day when the open expanse of lifeless dirt looked like a scar. The glimmer of the city from below overpowered the stars in the sky as well as the ones ditting their skin. 

Two gurneys were waiting for them at the landing pad along with an avatar in a lab coat. They quickly and carefully put Prager onto the first gurney and he was rolled off to the infirmary. Spence tried to follow, but Lyle held her back. She knew why, but she didn’t agree with it. Yet she stayed behind anyway.

The avatar doctor tried to take Spider from Quaritch, but he shooed them off. Quaritch had been holding the unconscious kid to his chest for the entire flight home, and just that alone betrayed his emotional state no matter how much he tried to hide it. The doctor calmly explained something to him, and he reluctantly placed the boy on the gurney.

General Ardmore’s dragon had landed now, and the whole squad stiffened when they saw her approaching from across the tarmac. One of two things was about to happen: either they get screamed at for being so incompetent that they lost nearly half the squad and most of their valuable hostages, or she’d give them a day off, promise to revive their dead comrades and send them off to the infirmary to get checked out.

Knowing her, it would take an act of God and Eywa for the latter to happen.

Chapter Text

The first thing Prager felt when consciousness trickled back into his mind was a warmth against his left side. Then came the deep, aching pain on his other side. As he peeled his eyes open, he was overcome by the bright LED lights overhead and had to close them again.

The warm presence against him shifted slightly.

Prager opened his eyes again, slowly this time so they could adjust to the light. Looking around, he could see that he was in a hospital room fitted to care for the recoms, and in the corner of his eye he noticed the source of that warmth was a person .

It was Spence. She occupied a small sliver of the hospital bed, an arm across his hospital gown-clad chest and a leg wrapped around his were the only things keeping her from falling off the edge. Her breath tickled his ear. She was close enough that their noses brushed against each other when he turned to look at her.

I could get used to waking up like this, Prager thought. He moved to sweep her hair out of her face, but the motion pulled at his wound and made him wince sharply.

Her eyes fluttered open at the sound. Their eyes met for a few seconds, green to gold, before she sat up suddenly and stared down at him. “You’re awake.” She hovered a hand above him, almost afraid to touch him. “Are you okay? Does it hurt?”

The worry in her voice pained him almost as much the bullet wound in his side. “No,” he lied.

“Good. Never do that again!” A switch flipped in Spence’s voice when she scolded him, anger and fear and despair pouring in to mix with her worry. “You’ve been in a coma for over a day. I wouldn’t have been able to forgive you if you died, too.”

Prager couldn’t help but laugh just a little bit at her scolding. She was basically ordering him to dodge all future gunfire. “Okay, mon cœur, I promise I won’t get shot again.”

“This isn’t funny! Why didn’t you say anything as soon as we got onto the ship? You could’ve died in my arms, James.”

He only now noticed that her clothes were covered in dirt and blood, her hair was disheveled and her skin was pallid. “I’m sorry I made you worry so much.” He reached the hand on his uninjured side up to cup her cheek, and she leaned into it. “How long have you been waiting for me to wake up?”

She sighed, closing her eyes. “The whole time. As soon as we finished reporting to Ardmore I came back here.” She moved his hand so she could lay back down beside him. “Dr. Castello wouldn't let me in here until they knew you were stable after your surgery, and then I just kinda… got in bed with you as soon as he left.”

Prager carefully moved over a few inches so she could have more room, and he tried to pretend that it didn't agonize him to do so. Clenching his eyes shut, he laced his fingers with hers while he focused on his breath. After a minute or two the pain faded to an ache in the background of his awareness.

“Did you fall asleep?”

He opened his eyes and met Spence’s gaze. The lines of worry had mostly softened from her face, but a trace remained when she looked at him. That sort of fondness was probably the next best thing to the love he wished for. “No. Just resting my eyes.”

“Then I should go get the doctor.” She peeled herself away from him and slid off the bed, her warmth receding with her. “He’ll want to know you’re awake and all that.”

A hand shot out and grabbed hers before Prager even realized he’d thought to do so. “Wait… um,” His heart hammered against his chest, but he couldn’t explain why. “Nevermind, it’s nothing.

“He’s probably just down the hall.” She squeezed his hand. “I’ll just be a minute.”

The hallway was silent except for the ambient hum of the building. This wing was filled with air breathable by avatars and recoms, but it still had that antiseptic smell typical of a hospital. It made Spence sick. She avoided hospitals as much as she could, yet she could never stay away. Not when the people close to her kept ending up in them. She wandered the halls but couldn’t find Dr. Castello anywhere in this wing. The beds that had been temporarily occupied by each recom had been vacant for hours now, so he had no reason to stick around. Vital checks were more easily performed in his human body wearing an exopack anyway, so his avatar currently lay dormant in a room near the airlock that connected the avatar wing to the rest of the hospital. It didn’t feel right, knowing she was the same as the empty avatar in front of her. If memories hadn’t been imprinted on her brain, would she be just as empty as that avatar? Or would she be her own person? She shuddered to think about it.

Since the doctor was nowhere to be found, Spence realized that must mean it’s late and he’d gone home. Probably. She gave up the search and returned to Prager’s room, only to find Ja already in there. He was talking to Prager, who was now sitting up at the edge of his bed.

“Oh, hey Phoebe,” Ja greeted her warmly. “I was bored so I came to check on you guys, but you must have just left.” 

She waved tiredly and sat beside Prager on his bed. “Have you seen Dr. Castello?”

“No, but I sent him a message as soon as I saw Jamie here was awake." Ja pointed at Prager’s side. "You should let me check on that, by the way.” 

“Yeah, sure.” He began pulling his hospital gown before suddenly jerking it down.

Spence and Ja looked at him. “You okay?”

Prager paused, tugging the edge of his hospital gown down further. “Why am I not wearing any underwear…?” 

As he asked, the door slid open once more as Dr. Castello’s avatar entered the room. “They were soaked in blood, so they were removed with the rest of your clothes. Sorry about that.” He scrolled through his datapad before finding what he needed. “Sorry for being late, also. I had to report to General Ardmore that she hadn’t lost another recombinant soldier, Ma Shaa Allah.”

“Oh, right.” Prager’s ears drooped as it dawned on him. “H-how many did we lose, exactly?”

She’d been trying not to think about it, keeping her focus on James and his recovery. Spence gripped the edge of the bed and stared down at the tiled floor as she blinked away the tears that prickled at the edgers of her eyes. “Zhang, Fike, and Walker were all killed in action.” She took a deep breath before continuing, “Brown and Warren are presumed to be gone too, but none of us actually saw them die so… so they can’t be…” Her voice wavered, giving out. No one ever got used to the death of comrades.

Ja interjected, putting a hand on Spence’s shoulder. “We’re grounded until you’re cleared for duty, so we can’t go look for them… or recover any remains.” 

“Actually,” Dr. Castello spoke up, “Ardmore ordered that you shouldn’t be involved in that. A sizable group of human soldiers have already been deployed to bring them home… There will be a funeral soon.”

Three pairs of eyes swiveled to him. “Why didn’t anyone tell us about that,” Spence asked.

“The three of us have been in here pretty much the entire time, maybe the others know,” Ja answered.

“We still have our comms, that doesn’t make sense.”

Prager didn’t say anything. His face was expressionless, eyes unfocused. He barely registered a word that was being said after the mention of a funeral; a memorial made it all too real . 

A cerulean hand suddenly waving in front of his face brought him back.

“Lance Corporal, are you alright,” Dr. Castello asked.

“Y-yeah, I’m… I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”

“That’s good.” He turned to Spence and Ja. “You two should go home. You especially, Corporal,” he looked her up and down, “have you even showered since you’ve been here?”

She wasn't about to answer that.

Ja nudged her toward the door, “He’s right. Come on, stinker.”

“I don’t—” She huffed and picked her gear up off the floor. “Fine. But I’m coming back later.”

Their walk back to the barracks was mostly silent. They held it together in front of Prager and each other, but there was a silent understanding that tears would be shed in private. They’d only just gotten their lives back, and already they’d lost them. Even worse, Ardmore was refusing to deploy their copies unless in an “absolute emergency.”

Bullshit.

Ja slipped his hand into hers and squeezed. Spence squeezed back before letting go as they entered the barracks. The place was a ghost town. The only person in any of the common spaces was Mansk, who was cooking something that smelled amazing . The two of them poked their heads in.

“What’s cookin’,” Ja asked.

Mansk pointed his spoon at them. “Absolutely not. You know the rules, nobody gets to taste it before it’s done.”

“Not even—”

“No.”

As the smell continued to fill Spence’s nose, her stomach growled. She realized she hadn’t eaten anything today because she’d been so busy worrying about Prager waking up; just worried about him in general. Her feelings for him were a confusing mess, but she couldn’t even think about that right now. “Sooo, when will it be done?” She asked Mansk.

He looked back at the pot he’d been stirring. “Soon. But we should wait til’ Lyle and the Colonel get back.”

“Oh? Where are they?” She was sure that Ardmore was done yelling at them for their failure on their first mission, and surely she would have called Spence in as well if she was speaking with recom officers… Right, Lyle was promoted. And Ardmore probably thinks I’m stupid after I embarrassed myself in front of her.

“I’m pretty sure they’re interrogating the kid. What did he want to be called again?”

“Spider.” Thinking about it now, the name the kid had chosen for himself suited him much more than Miles Jr. Phoebestill couldn’t believe Paz agreed to name him that.

“Right.” Mansk looked at her over the top of his sunglasses, which he still needed to wear because the kitchen lights had no dimmer switch, “You look tired.”

She laughed at that, knowing he meant to say she looked like shit, “I know. Dr. Castello put it more bluntly before kicking us out of Prager’s hospital room.”

“Someone had to stop you from being there 24/7,” Ja interjected. “You seem to spend more time with him than me, your best friend in the whole wide world.” he shot her a goofy grin.

She pushed the brim of his hat down over his eyes. “Whatever, man. I’m getting in the shower now.”

They were right. She did look like shit. The bathroom mirror certainly wasn’t doing her appearance any favors, but neither was she, really. Spence didn’t think it looked too obvious before, but her choppy haircut became glaringly obvious when it was messy.

I’ll just… trim it later.

She didn’t bother to hide in a stall when she took off her clothes and instead stripped in the middle of the shared bathroom. If anyone walked in, they could just deal with it, and depending on who it was they’d seen her naked before anyway- well… before . As humans. She was a little more used to the new body now, but it was still weird. She could ignore it as long as she didnt stare at herself and pushed it out of her mind.

Doing just that, she stepped into the shower. She could quite literally feel the water wash away the stress of the past three days, soothing her sore muscles and rinsing away the dirt. She didnt realize how awful she felt until she was able to clean up and feel like an actual person again. The shower was nice, and the surprisingly gentle water seemed to demand Spence stay there for much longer. Until it suddenly shut off, anyways.

“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath as she grabbed her towel. “You’d think having a coastal base would mean they’d let us use some more water.” She said it to the empty air not expecting a response, and jumped when she actually did.

“Pff, yeah right. I haven’t gotten to take a nice long shower since I was back home in Florida.”

She opened the shower curtainad was greeted with a view of Lyle’s back as he stood pissing at a urinal. “Did you really need to pick the one directly across from me?”

He finished and turned to her. “Hey, Spencey.”

“Ew, come up with a better nickname.” She fished the scissors out of the pockets of her gear and went to the sinks to trim her hair.

He washed his hands probably only because he knew she’d chastise him if he didn’t—and leaned on the counter a few feet away. “Do you want some help?”

She side-eyed him. “I’m not about to trust the man who's been bald for the entire time I’ve known him to cut my hair .”

“I’ll have you know I am very well trimmed- oof. ” She threw her boot into his gut. “Alright, capitaine. Quaritch will be back soon, so you should hurry up.”

“Yeah, yeah. ‘Cya in a bit.”

Tonight was the first time they had a meal together since before the ambush, and they only gathered because Mansk went to the trouble of cooking. None of them wanted to address the obvious, the absent. Six empty chairs. It was enough for all of them to sit at the same table and leave the other vacant, but none of them dared occupy the seats that their friends had previously sat in. Empty chairs at an empty table made it too real. Even Quaritch’s demeanor seemed deflated as they ate in silence.

Mansk was unexpectedly the first to speak. “There’s leftovers for Prager… We should bring it to him.”

Spence nodded. “I was gonna go see him again tonight anyways.” 

A moment of silence… followed by another… and another…

Quaritch took a final bite and set his fork down, then rested his crossed arms on the table. “We should all go, I know some of you haven’t been since yesterday.”

The rest of them nodded or made sounds of agreement as chairs scraped across the floor and plates found their way into the kitchen sink. 

“Hang on, guys,” Lopez said as he opened the fridge and pulled out an 8-pack of Viperwolf Ale.

“Beers?” Quaritch raised an eyebrow at him.

Lopez raised them like it should be obvious. “We should have a toast. I didn’t wanna get them out without Prager here, but since we’re going to him, well. Perfect time to do it.”

“True enough.”

When they arrived, Dr. Castello was in his human body at the foot of Prager’s bed, who visibly looked in less pain than before, and showing something to him on his tablet. They both turned when the door opened to reveal eight recoms.

“We interrupting, Doc?” Quaritch asked, leading the pack.

“Well…” Dr. Castello looked to Prager for his input.

Prager waved his hand. “It’s fine if they hear this stuff. You guys can come in.”

The room was plenty big enough if eight humans had pulled up, but they were each twice that size and were very cramped in the small hospital room. Spence and Ja sat next to Prager on his bed while Quaritch and Lyle took up the two chairs, leaving the rest of them to lean against the wall or sit on the floor.

Dr. Castello continued to explain the charts and X-rays to Prager as he ate his now-lukewarm meal. No one could really follow along except for Ja, who joined the SecOps as a field medic because he wanted to be a doctor; that was his plan for when he got back to Earth, but now the closest he could get was learning what he could from Dr. Castello. The two sets of X-rays were a fullbody and a closeup, both of which showed images of after he’d been shot and his most recent scans after the surgery. The bullets in the earlier scans appeared as small white objects that contrasted with his bones. The second set didn’t have those of course, but Spence noticed something similar in the skull.

She leaned over Prager’s shoulder to point it out. “What’s that in his head?”

“This?” Dr. Castello zoomed in and she nodded. “Your tracker. Every avatar and recom has one just behind your left ear.”

Nearly everyone in the room reached up and felt for it. Sure enough, there was a small bump just beneath the skin. Spence was surprised she hadn’t noticed it before.

“Anyways,” he continued, “I could discharge you this evening, but we need to keep you overnight for extra monitoring. There are still too many unknowns when it comes to human medicine and Na’vi bodies, unfortunately.” He turned off the tablet and tucked it under his arm. “But at the very least, you all inherited the accelerated healing factor of the Na’vi, so you can return to missions in about 3 days.”

“Merci,” Prager said. 

As soon as Dr. Castello was gone, Lopez whipped out the beers he’d been hiding not-so-subtley behind his back. “Well enough for your first beer in the new body, amigo?” He tossed Prager a can.

He caught it in one hand, “What are these for?”

Z-dog took a beer and cracked it open. “Lopez’s idea.”

“Pouring one out for the boys is a vital SecOps tradition, and we are going to keep it going!” Lopez said loudly as he handed everyone else their cans. “Except we’re inside, so we’ll just drink it. We can actually pour it out when we have a proper memorial.”

A chorus of cans being cracked open. A bit of beer sloshed out of a few cans as they clinked together, splattering on the floor. Under any other circumstances, having a cold one with their closest friends would’ve been the ideal way to spend a night. Except for the the gap where five people should be. This can’t happen again. No one spoke it, but they all knew it: Stay alive, if only for them .

Chapter Text

A storm brewed on the horizon, fast winds whipping the recoms’ queues around as they stood in a semi-circle around five small urns on an undeveloped beach within Bridgehead’s limits. Spence could remember the first funeral she attended as a Marine. Her first friend at boot camp, her first love, had died in her arms after their first deployment together became a massacre. Back then her fight or flight kicked in and she dragged her wounded comrades out of the line of fire. She risked her own life to do it, and they gave her a Navy Cross for it. The memorial and medal ceremony felt like a slap in the face with all its regalia and ceremony after what she’d been through.

It almost hurt more that her first funeral in this new life didn’t have any of that. SecOps never did anything special. The dead, if they could even be recovered, were cremated and sent back to Earth or given to their squadmates if they had no family. In the latter case, squads often refused to spread their ashes. Pandora isn’t their home. Pandora is the beast that killed them.

Prager was discharged a few hours after the urns had been delivered to the barracks, and the rest had all waited to do anything with them until he’d gotten back. After some debate on what to do and a heated phone call between Quaritch and Ardmore, they were given permission to bury them.

Lyle handed the spade he’d stolen from a construction site to Quaritch so he could break ground first. They were so tall that he had to kneel to do. He tossed the dirt to the side and gave it back to Lyle, who did the same before passing it on. It went down the line like this until the hole was large enough for the urns. Each recom grabbed a handful of soil and sprinkled it on top of them before filling it in completely.

Spence’s heart squeezed as she stared at the grave. They had nothing to mark it, not even a cheaply 3D-printed sign, so she stabbed the spade into the ground to serve as a headstone.

No one said a word. There was nothing to say.

She heard sniffing next to her, and turned to see tears streaming down Lopez’s cheeks. He turned and wiped them away when he saw her looking, but she stopped him, pulling him into a tight hug instead. She needed it, they all needed it.

 - 3 Days Later -

“Are you sure bringing him was a good idea?” Lyle jerked his head toward Spider, who was busy stripping off the RDA uniform he’d been issued after being captured. 

“Ardmore thinks we need a tour guide, and this kid knows the woods.” Quaritch shrugged, “besides, he clearly likes it more out here.”

Spence stood off to the side and pulled up their mission assignment on a datapad. They had to go back to the shack. “C’mere, y’all.” She pointed to the tablet when they came near, “It looks like there’s a crashed Samson and a few AMP suits in this area which may or may not have been ours. We can hit those before circling back to the shack.”

Quaritch gripped Spider by the arm and brought him over to the rest of the recoms. “And this one can teach us how to act like Na’vi.”

The way he grabbed him made her cringe. “Maybe you shouldn’t be so harsh on the kid if you actually want him to help us?”

“Alright then,” Quaritch gave Spider a short shove toward her, “you babysit him then.

Lyle snickered until Spence and Spider shot him matching glares.

Quaritch dusted off his hands like he’d rid himself of something dirty. “Spread out, but stay within eyesight of each other. I want a clean sweep of anythin’ that might be in the underbrush.”

The squad moved out but Spence stayed still. She turned to kneel in front of Spider. “Listen, I know you don’t want to be here.”

“Wow, you think? You almost killed my family in front of me .” He crossed his arms and scowled at her.

“Yeah… I’m sorry about that. Jake used to be my friend, but-”

“I don’t care.”

She pursed her lips. “That's okay, I’ll still be nicer to you than the others even if you’re being a bit difficult.” She tapped the side of his mask, “there’s a tracker in here, so you can wander off but don’t try to run, okay?”

He rolled his eyes and walked off to climb up one of the massive vines that rose from the ground like an overpass. Spence tried to follow him so she’d have the benefit of a higher vantage point, but her boots struggled to gain purchase on the roots and moss.

Spider turned around as he heard her slip off the edge. “Boots are only gonna make things harder. You should take them off.”

She clung to the smaller vines on the edge, legs dangling below her. “Are you serious?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, skxawng . Na’vi don’t wear shoes… That’s like common sense I fear.” He hesitated before offering a hand to Spence.

She took his hand and rolled back onto the vine. “Kid says that we need to get rid of our boots,” she said into her throat comm. She kicked hers off and stood, already finding it much easier to stand on the uneven surface.

“Man, I don’t wanna rawdog the ground out here. What if I get worms?” Lopez grumbled over the comm line.

Prager responded next, “Aren’t there parasites out here?”

Quaritch chimed in next, “If he says that’s how it’s done, that’s how it’s done. We go barefoot now.”

After circling back to leave their boots at the extraction point, the recoms spent the next few hours learning to walk across the large vines and branches. Spider took off ahead of them, living up to his name as he bounded and climbed over the branches like a true Na’vi. He used his size to his advantage, slipping between roots and tricking recoms into grabbing vines that he knew wouldn’t hold them. It turned into a game of chase. Spider mocked them continuously, but gradually their footsteps became more sure.

They still fell a lot, though.

Lopez tried to spring off of a branch that Spider used, but it collapsed under his weight and he nearly fell to the forest below. “A little help?” He called as the rest of the squad ran past.

As Z-dog helped him up, Spider kept going. “Is that all you guys got?” He jumped and grabbed a vine, swinging across a gap that he could have simply walked around to show off.

Prager hesitated before the gap. He’d already fallen multiple times, so he was preparing himself to get it right this time. He got a running start, grabbing the vine-

He hit the forest floor below with a heavy thud.

“Prager!” Quaritch looked down at him. “Get your ass up here.” Spider shrugged cheekily, pretending it wasn’t his fault.

Spence stopped at the edge and called down, “Are you okay?”

He landed flat on his back and had the wind knocked out of him completely. Unable to get the words out, he lifted his hand in a thumbs up before letting it flop down again.

“Do you want help?” The others were getting away now and it would be difficult to catch up.

He stared straight up, watching the trees sway. Even more beautiful than that is Spence, who stood over him now. “It’s kinda nice here,” he spoke softly.

She kneeled down to make sure he wasn’t concussed. “You sure you’re okay?” She helped pull him up so he was sitting.

“Yeah, yeah. There’s just no view like this on Earth.” He looked into her eyes, “It’s beautiful.”

She blushed a bit and looked away. A breeze picked up and she breathed in, trying to process the multitude of smells. What did Earth even smell like? She couldn’t remember.

“Phoebe,” he turned her head with a finger under the chin, “can I kiss you?” Dappled sunlight danced across his skin as the breeze moved through the branches overhead. His lips parted, an invitation.

She leaned in and looped her hands behind his neck. “We should catch up soon.” Her words spoke one thing, but her body gave away something entirely different. Spence became more familiar with him everyday, her feelings toward him slowly formulating into something solid; she loved him, but she still couldn’t say she was in love. Yet her heart fluttered every time she was near him.

He smiled, “They probably haven’t even noticed we’re gone, mon cœur.”

“I love your nicknames,” her lips pulled into a grin as she closed the distance to kiss him, “they’re much better than Lyle’s.”

Prager chuckled a bit, “I’m sure I can do some other things better than him, too.”

“Mm, like what?” She smirked, “I’m a visual learner, by the way.”

He pulled her in by the waist, cold fingers pushing under the hem of her tank top as he kissed her. She tasted like their morning coffee. It started slow and sure, but as it deepend and their lips parted to taste each other, Spence found herself even more. She loved the feeling of wanting, and being wanted. 

If not for the mission still to be completed, the squad running through the forest ahead of them, she might throw all caution to the wind and give herself to Prager right now. If she really wasn’t careful, she might even say she loved him. It wouldn’t be untrue, but it would hurt them both. She knew that. So she stayed quiet, instead taking these moments of intimacy where they came.

Maybe one day.

“Where the fuck are you two!?” Quaritch’s voice in their earpieces made them jump, leaving a trail of saliva.

They made bewildered eye contact before breaking into giggles, realizing the situation was ridiculous. This is cadet behavior. “Sorry, sir. Spence was making sure I wasn’t hurt and we fell behind,” Prager answered.

“Get your asses up here, we found something.”

They climbed back up and hurried through the forest until the squad came into view. They were looking at something tangled in the vines in front of them, but the two of them couldn’t make it out until they caught up. 

“What is it?” Spence panted as she came up behind Quaritch.

He didn’t even need to say it, she realized as soon as he turned to her. A lump formed in her throat as she took in the crashed SA-2 Samson. Her Samson. The paint was faded on the side, but the name A1C Brown, J. was clearly visible under the cockpit’s windshield. Brown, who’d just been killed again days ago, had flown this ship in their last life with her and Ja as door gunners.

Ja looked at her, eyes wide with primal fear. “Should we look inside?”

She swallowed and nodded slowly. He boosted her up, and the ship groaned and swayed under her weight as she jumped in. A rotor was missing and it looked like some massive animal had used it as a chew toy and torn a piece off the side of the cabin, but was otherwise intact. “There’s a body missing,” she called down. There were only two skeletons, one of which was in the cockpit.

“Whose is it?” Ja’s voice trembled. She’d never heard that from him before.

She looked closer at the skeleton seatbelted in the main cabin before becoming overwhelmed with nausea. It was her. Her DMTs were missing, but her name was clearly embroidered in the jacket. Cpl. Spence, P. “I-it’s me,” she retched. “Oh, god, those are my bones.” She stuck her head out of the door and looked down, “I can’t be up here, someone else has to pull the footage.”

Spider’s eyes widened in recognition. He looked at her differently when she jumped down and fell to her knees, the recoms could see it. He backed up when Spence began to dry-heave and stayed silent.

Quaritch sighed and climbed up himself. He’d handled witnessing his own death considerably well, all things considered. The only thing he felt about it was rage . It wasn’t even Sully who dealt the final blow, but that woman. The same savage woman who felled his soldiers like they were nothing. He leaned into the cockpit and ripped the tags from Brown’s neck, nearly snapping it in the process.

“Find anything?” Ja called up as he rubbed circles into Spence’s back, who’d calmed down now. He caught the tags as Quaritch tossed them down.

 “We should hang these up in the barracks somewhere… we don’t have anyone else’s except Q’s.” 

Ja nodded.

The ship creaked loudly as Quaritch moved further into the cockpit and pulled out the black box. As he began to climb out, a vine above snapped and the entire structure dropped. “Fuck!” he screamed when he banged his head on the roof when the vines caught the Samson once more.

It was lower now, having dropped enough for Lyle to lean his head in through the bay doors. “Okay, Colonel?”

Quaritch didn’t respond, just tossed the black box to Lyle and grunted as he pulled himself from the ship. He slapped away Lyle’s hand when he offered help. “Just pull what you can from that. And take a drink, Corporal.” He said the last bit to Spence.

Lyle looked up at the sky. They left after the eclipse, so it must be late afternoon by now as the sun was no longer visible above them. “Losin’ daylight, Colonel.

He scowled. “Fine, we’ll crack it open at home with anything else we find.” Move out, people.

The rest of the mission continued uneventfully. They found a few more Samsons and a handful of AMPS but they were all too damaged to recover anything except for DMT tags. They didn’t find anything at the site of the ambush either. They returned to Bridgehead with nothing but dirty feet and a fight recorder that contained the secrets of Spence, Ja, and Brown's deaths.

“Are you sure you want to see this?” Ja sat next to Spence, and they both stared at the drive they pulled out of the Samson. It was cracked, so maybe it wouldn’t even work. They couldn’t decide which they preferred.

Spence nodded slowly. “If I don’t watch this now, I never will.” The way Spider reacted when she discovered her body had been eating away at her even more than the discovery itself.

Ja plugged the box into his tablet and waited with bated breath as the data loaded up. There was a week's worth of footage there to fast-forward through until they found what they were looking for. The Samson only had two cameras, one in the cockpit and one in the cargo bay. They were expecting an arrow to fly into the cockpit, but what they saw was almost worse than they expected. The cargo camera captured it all.

Hundreds, maybe even thousands, of banshees swarmed through the fleet of RDA ships. Some had riders, but most didn’t. Spence and Ja shot down what they could but they just kept coming, multiplying like hydra heads as the swarm took down more and more ships. In the middle of it all was a massive red creature that tore through ships like they were nothing. It commanded respect, even to humans who had no idea what the monster was.

Ja made the mistake of shooting at it. It screamed, bone-chilling like nothing any human had ever heard.

Primal fear crept across their skin. It was only a recording but something within their Na’vi DNA trembled instinctually.

Veering off course, it went straight for their Samson. Its rider tried to wrangle it back under control, but it was pissed off and wouldn’t listen. Before either of them could react, the beast’s great teeth came down on Ja and ripped him from the ship, tossing him aside like crumpled paper. His screams as he fell were drowned out by Spence’s own. But it wasn’t done with them. Its teeth tore at the side of the ship, the metal screeching as it ripped through it like paper trying to get at Spence.

If she hadn’t clipped herself into the seat behind her gun when it attacked again she would have rolled directly into its gnashing jaws as the Samson pitched harshly toward it. Brown struggled to gain some semblance of control, but the reality was that this giant flying creature was the only thing keeping them airborne.

Just then the beast’s rider came into the frame. Toruk Makto, Jake Sully. Spence could do nothing but whimper she realized the truth of her death. She’d been killed by one of her best friends. She didn’t watch the rest of the footage, which cut out as the Samson crashed, instead sinking her head into her hands.

They stayed silent for a long moment. “I’m glad Brown isn’t here to see this.” Ja whispered weakly.

Spence didn’t have a response.

A chair scraping across the ground startled them both. They’d barely even noticed Spider, who was sitting around waiting for airlock to be installed in a room for him upstairs. Their gazes snapped up to him, and he scampered off when Spence stood up.

She chased him down the hallway. He didn’t know the building and there was nowhere for him to go, and she was faster than him anyway. “Spider,” she grabbed his arm gently. “Spider, stop.”

He whipped around. “What, are you going to interrogate me too?”

“No.” She let go of him and sighed, kneeling to his height. “Well, kind of. I have questions.”

He looked at her warily.

“What was that about back in the woods, when we found my- the old me ’s bones?”

His eyes shifted around nervously. “Why should I tell you?”

Spence looked up and down the hall to make sure it was empty, then pushed open the door to an unoccupied room. She motioned for him to enter, “we can talk in here.” Inside, she locked the door so no one could enter and sat down on the floor. “I let Jake escape from Hell’s Gate back then. Before I died,” she kept her voice low, “Jake was really pissed at me for being there when Hometree fell. But I knew it was wrong and the only thing I could do to make him see that was to make sure no one went after him.” She sighed heavily. “Noah even tried to get me to come with them, but I knew I couldn’t. I can’t imagine myself outside of this life,” she waved her hand to gesture to her situation.

“Shit.” Spider leaned against the wall and looked at her in disbelief.

She ran her hand through hair before looking up at him again. “So again, what was up with you earlier?”

“I…” He crossed his arms and uncrossed them again nervously. “I recognized your name. I didn’t realize it before”

Her ears twitched as her posture straightened suddenly. “They’ve talked about me? Norm, Trudy, and Noah are alive too?”

“Not really… Norm has a few dog tags he looks at when he thinks no one’s watching. One of them is yours,” Spider sighed and realized he found himself pitying her, “and the other is Trudy’s.”

The air left Spence’s lungs. “So she’s…”

“Yeah.” He dropped his gaze. “I never met her.”

A while passed before she spoke again. It wasn’t exactly closure, but at least she could stop wondering every day whether or not she’d lived. She hoped it was painless. “...What about Noah? And Dr. Augustine, your blue friend looked just like her-”

“Don’t talk about her,” he snapped. 

“I’m sorry. Just please answer one more thing. Is Noah alive?” There was desperation in her tone. I need to know I kept my promise to Kevin .

He stayed silent.

“I’m not asking as a soldier, Spider, I’m asking as a friend .”

“Noah’s alive,” he huffed, “and you’re not my friend.”

Spence jumped up as soon as he confirmed Noah was alive. She isn’t the only person Noah was important too. Z-dog needed to know, too. “I need to go.” She unlocked the door and ran out, leaving Spider alone.

Her feet slapped the gray linoleum floors as she ran to the opposite side of the building to the training room. Her heart was beating so fast it might leap out of her chest. Noah is alive . There were more people in the common room now but she didn’t stop to greet anyone as she ran past, garnering strange looks from her friends. She almost collided with Prager as he left his room, too. There was no time to stop, her mind focusing only on talking to Z-dog. If they were lucky, they could find a way to contact Noah.

She burst through the doors of the gym. “Noah’s alive!”

Z-dog was there as she thought, lifting weights with Mansk behind her as a spotter. She stopped when Spence ran in and quietly racked the weight. Spence has expected her to at least say something when she heard.

“...Why don’t you seem surprised?” She panted to catch her breath. Something felt off, but she couldn’t place what it was.

Mansk and Z-dog shared a look. They knew something she didn’t. “Harper. What aren’t you telling me.” Spence’s demeanor went suddenly cold as she realized they’d kept something from her, and her ears flattened against her head. Her tail bristled.

 “We saw their stingbat Kev out there, so I covered for her while she chased him down,” Mansk answered quietly. He felt bad about 

Z-dog wiped the sweat from her brow and looked up at Spence. “Yeah, I saw Noah. Right before the ambush.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Spence’s tail whipped behind her as her feelings teetered between anger and betrayal. She walked up to Z-dog and grabbed her shoulder, staring daggers down at her. “They were just as important to me, Z.”

She was freaking Z-dog out. She rarely acted like this, much less toward her own squad, her friends. “How could I have known you wouldn’t report me?”

“That’s bullshit!” Spence’s voice rose and her grip on Z-dog’s shoulder tightened.

“Spence, calm down.” Mansk took her hand and turned to Z-dog, “I told you she deserved to know.”

“So you were in on it.” She glared at Mansk, but didn’t pull her hand away. “Tell me exactly what the fuck happened out there.”

Z-dog stood up, and despite the fact she towered over Spence, the malice in her was still unnerving. “Noah didn’t believe it was me at first, but they finally opened up to the idea. And then someone showed up and waved his gun around,” she gave Mansk a pointed look.

He was taken aback, “My first priority was to make sure you hadn’t gotten yourself killed, and after that to keep both of us from getting caught!”

“You still scared them off, and now I- we might never see them again.”

Spence softened a bit, but her tone was still harsh, “how were they? Do they seem okay, at least?”

“They look older than us now,” Z answered, “more Na’vi too.”

Spence deflated, all the anger from a moment before leaving her body. “I miss them so much… I swear to god I’ve been through every fucking stage of grief ten times this week.”

“I should’ve told you.” She pulled Spence into her arms, tucking her head under her chin. “I’m sorry.”

Spence pulled away, not letting it linger. “I… I can’t be here.”

That night, Spence lay on her bed and stared at the ceiling. Sleep eluded her completely and nothing she did could calm the racing thoughts in her mind. Every single day so far since she’d been resurrected in this body had been borderline nightmarish with no end to her grief in sight. How long could things go on like this?

Maybe I shouldn’t be alone right now.

She dragged herself out of bed. The lights in the hallway had been dimmed for nighttime, and the building was dead quiet. Her footfalls were silent as she crept down the hall.

She stopped at Ja’s door. They’d always been there for each other, and this circumstance was no different. He witnessed his death along with her, after all. Spence raised her hand to knock, but something stopped her — a mental tug. She backed away from his room.

Prager’s door was right behind her, and she turned around to knock on it instead. She hesitated again and almost gave up completely, but she was more sure. She knocked.

The door cracked open and all she could see of the darkness inside were Prager’s glowing freckles that patterned his body, and she realized he was shirtless. “Phoebe?” His voice was quiet.

“Did I wake you up?”

“No, no. I’ve had a hard time sleeping since we came back.” He leaned one arm up on the doorframe and looked down at her. “Tu vas bien?”

Her shoulders slumped. “Can I stay with you tonight?”

He smiled and pushed the door open, “of course.”

Her eyes adjusted to the darkness as he closed the door behind her, and she realized she’d never been in his room before in either life. It was neat, but not obsessively so. He clearly hadn't even been trying to sleep because his bed was still made. Prager pulled one of his pillows from the bed and dropped it on the floor.

“What are you doing?”

Prager looked at her, then gestured to the bed, “I’m giving you my bunk.”

Spence was completely baffled. “Obviously I want you in the bed. With me.” She took his hand.

“Oh…” She couldn’t see it, but his skin flushed a violet color. He grabbed his pillow from the floor and let her lead him to bed.

They were awkward in placing their limbs, not used to lying next to each other, and even less used to cuddling with these new proportions. Eventually, they settled into a similar position he’d woken up to in the hospital. Her head was nestled into the crook of his neck with his arms wrapped around her. Spence felt warm and fuzzy, and his heartbeat lulled her mind into much-wanted peace, allowing her to drift off. Sleep came easier to Prager now too, his eyes sinking shut after placing a kiss on her forehead.

Exactly what he wanted.

Chapter Text

Ja awoke with a start. He was drenched in cold sweat and gasping for air. It took a moment for him to remember where he was, to shake the feeling that he was falling. He squeezed his eyes shut again, chest heaving, before opening them once more and realizing he was in his room.

Another nightmare.

Ever since watching the footage of their deaths with Spence, he’d been waking up every night from the horrible dreams it spawned. But they didn’t feel like dreams , they felt like memories . Real, tangible memories; not implanted. They were even in first-person like the rest of his memories. He knew it was just a trick of his mind, the fresh trauma manifesting itself in the only way it knew how, but it was still terrifying. 

Before being ripped from the Samson and spinning as he flailed helplessly on the way down, he always saw Spence’s face. Every night, the same look. Abject horror, shock, and grief. Sometimes that last emotion was so puzzling to him that he couldn't decipher it.

Then, when he'd wake up, he'd be reminded of everything he still wanted to say to her. Ja had never believed in love at first sight, but with Spence… well, she’d toppled that entire notion when they met.

Sighing, Ja sat up and rubbed his eyes. He didn’t know how many times he’d watched that stupid recording he’d made before dying, but he’d etched it into his brain at this point. He didn’t need to watch it again…

…He was going to watch it again.

The sudden brightness of the datapad seared his eyes, making him scramble to lower its brightness. The damn thing was too big to hold comfortably in one hand, but too small to easily interact with. Or maybe his fingers were just too fat and blue now. Either way, he missed the icon for the files app a few times before finally opening it. It was fairly barren with no imported photos from his old life and only a few that he’d taken since they’d woken up, along with the pre-loaded briefing recording he’d made in the last life. I should’ve printed those out like Phoebs did , he thought to himself before opening the video.

A man with a durag that Ja could barely recognize reached forward to adjust the camera. “Gotta make sure I get my good side, y’know?” Someone scoffed behind the camera.

“Okay, look, I’ll just get the mandatory stuff out of the way first-”

Ja hit fast-forward on the video, watching his cartoonishly sped-up movements before stopping the video. He didn't need to hear the mission brief again, everything he needed from the video was at the end.

“-But anyway. I hope you’ll remember this part yourself, but… contract’s up next year. Though I guess if you’re watching this it means I died and that doesn’t matter anymore, but I’m choosing to believe I’ll live. Phoebe’s gonna make it too. I…” He looked somewhere out of frame to make sure no one was listening, “I want to ask her to go home with me. Maybe she’ll change her mind about renewing the contract if she knows someone will be on Earth for her?

“Shit, my siblings would love her. Mom and Pop might make a joke about me bringing home a white girl, but they’d sit her down at the dinner table and talk her ear off anyway. There’s probably nieces and nephews now too…” He raked a hand across his face, visually missing them. He looked straight into the camera, “We’re gonna live through this, even if we lose. I’m choosing to believe that. Over ‘n’ out, Alex.” He placed his cap on his head and reached forward to shut off the recording.

He always felt nauseous after watching that. Ja didn’t know what hurt more, knowing his family might not be alive by now, or that Spence had completely brushed him off. His parents… They must be dead by now. It had been over 25 years after all. He shook the thought from his head. It didn’t matter anyway. He had no way to contact them and he would likely never see Earth again.

For now, all he could worry about was the mission. And getting his best friend to talk to him again.

The days blurred together. Each one just as monotonous as the last. What Spence had seen on the flight recorder had been gnawing away at her mind, resulting in vivid nightmares that robbed her of her sleep. It wasn’t just the footage that fueled them though, relics of her past life surfaced in each nightmare, reminding her that she’d stolen the memories of a dead woman. All a recombinant could ever claim to be was a zombie.

Prager was always beside her, graciously letting her into his bed whenever she knocked on his door. That was just as stressful as the dreams. Navigating her feelings for him was proving nigh impossible, and the only thing she knew for sure was that she wanted to be near him; she hadn’t stopped to consider she had already fallen for him. A few nights of sleeping together led to them actually sleeping together , and that certainly wasn't helping either party sort out their feelings.

During the day, though, Ja and Spence were nearly inseparable. The rest of the squad tried to be there for them, but they couldn't quite understand what they were going through – Quaritch didn’t have the same emotional reaction to the footage of his death, so it puzzled him. What he didn't know was that it was more than Ja and Spence, who are best friends, dying together, but they’d been mutually pining for years; that fact only further jumbled Spence’s brain. 

Meanwhile Quaritch and Spider grew closer as well, as the boy had gotten over his grudge enough to actually speak to the man. He'd also begun to tutor the recoms on speaking Na’vi because they were all terrible at it. Spence tried to imagine how he might have turned out had Miles actually gotten to raise him; would Spider have taken more after him, or Paz? Or would he be the same kid regardless? She hoped for the latter option — She liked Paz, and was sure she would have been a good mother, but she was still just as much of a jarhead as Miles.

Before they knew it, Deja Blu had received the General’s permission to play at being natives for the day and follow one the local clans’ rites of passage: the “stairway to heaven,” or Iknimaya, as the locals called it. They needed to reap the benefits of their billion-dollar-bodies, and the best way to do that was to tame a banshee. It would also allow them to venture deeper into the Hallelujah Mountains to search for Jake, who they’d neither seen nor heard any sign of since the ambush. Spider was opposed to the idea, but he ultimately had no choice. He led the recom squad to the banshee rookery, guiding them up the treacherous climb up to the cliffs above. He warily eyed the extra weapons they’d brought with — Lyle and Spence carried tranquilizer guns, with four darts each, to sedate the banshees so a recom could make the bond. Spider was angry, of course, but mostly amused; they had no idea that the bond would be weaker if that banshee had not chosen them.

Spider and the squad left early that morning and flew as close to the rookery as they could without triggering Pandora’s immune response as usual. Their destination was immediately in front of them, 4 klicks away and 2,600 meters above them. They had learned from him well, and were able to traverse the forest much quicker than they had in the beginning. They were making good time, so they took a quick break at the base of the beanstalk that anchored the first mountain to the ground.

Spence tilted her head back to gape up at the mountains. It was like when she moved to a big city as a kid back on Earth when her brother got cancer, and she looked up at the scyscrapers for the first time, amazed by how they seemed to reach past even the sky; except now she was expected to climb that great height. Her throat tightened, and she snapped her eyes back down to her shaking hands. She’d gotten used to flying in the Kestrel back and forth for missions, but they’d never been so high as Mons Veritatis; much less climbed to that point. One little mistake could send her plummeting to her death.

“Come on, losers.” Spider decided he was tired of waiting around for these eight clumsy soldiers, so he started up the beanstalk without them. 

They had no choice but to follow him. Most were eager to keep the kid’s pace, but Spence hung back. She wiped her sweaty palms off on her pants as Quaritch came up behind her and patted her shoulder. He didn’t say anything, but it was encouraging. He waited for her to go first so he could catch her if she fell.

It wasn’t a difficult climb, technically. The rock wall at boot camp was much steeper and unforgiving, while these vines and stalks had ample holds. But at least in training they had an anchor rope; this was more like bouldering, but thousands of feet off the ground. If they failed to tame those banshees, they couldn’t just rappel back down. I’d actually rather jump , Spence thought.

Quaritch would usually scold her for being so slow and lagging behind the rest of the squad like this, but it was one of the few instances where he didn’t. “Just don’t look down, kid.” he called from below her.

Her heart was pounding so loud that she could barely hear him. The wind wasn’t helping in that regard, either. One hand after the other, she just needed to climb. She could climb. Don’t look down . Each boulder they stopped at on their ascent was a relief, and she collapsed onto its solid mass gratefully.

Spider was somewhere between piteous and annoyed, but it leaned toward the latter. “I could’ve gotten up here in half the time, and I’m half you guys’ size!” He shouted as they finally climbed onto the edge of Mons Veritatis. He approached the cave in front of them that would lead to the rookery, “Now let’s see if your fat asses can fit through here.”

“Since when are kids such assholes?” Lopez muttered.

Z-dog rolled his eyes at him, “Since literally always, man.”

When they emerged from the cave, there were more banshees than they ever could have expected. They soared through the air, roosted in the cliffs, and screeched at the recoms and Spider. Everyone fanned out to make sure none of the beasts tried to swoop in and attack them from behind. Spider stayed at the head of the group, perching on a fallen tree that Quaritch, Lyle, and Spence used for cover to shoot the banshees from.

Spider laughed at them as Lyle loaded the tranquilizer gun and passed it to Quaritch.

Quaritch gave him a side eye. “What?”

“Na’vi kids younger than me do this with their bare hands,” the kid replied.

He lowered the gun and nodded. “Jake Sully do it the hard way?”

“What do you think?” Like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“What we doin’, Colonel?” Lyle asked as Quaritch sneered and returned the gun to him.

“This is gonna be good,” Spider laughed again.

Spence watched Quaritch with bated breath as he approached the flock of banshees. The closest roared and lunged at him as the squad moved up, and he replied by punching it in the face. Everyone was tense while Quaritch fought the thing, practically dancing with it, before he finally jumped onto its back and grabbed its neck.

“Did I mention you’re supposed to tie the mouth shut first?” Spider chimed in again as the banshee snapped its jaws at Quaritch, trying to throw him off.

“Thanks a lot, kid!” He grunted as it bucked again. Then, before anyone could stop it, the beast threw itself off the cliff with their Colonel still clinging to its neck.

His screams echoed among the floating mountains as he plummeted through the clouds below. Everyone, Spider included, ran to the cliff’s edge. Seconds felt like hours as they counted down, hoping they’d see him fly up having tamed the banshee.

Nothing.

He was gone.

A twinge of guilt panged in Spider’s chest as the recoms backed away and prepared to report a mission failure to the General. He hadn’t meant to get any of them killed, he just wanted to fuck with them. Though, a part of him knew it would be better if they were all gone… For himself and the Omatikaya and the Sullys.

As he thought this, he could hear flapping behind him and air hitting his bare skin. He turned, assuming an ikran thought that he was a snack, but saw Quaritch instead. Spider couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face. None of the recoms had earned an ikran, and it pissed him off that they were appropriating Na’vi tradition like this, but he couldn’t help but glow with pride that one of them had actually managed it. There was jealousy, too, for he could never fly or make the bond himself.

Quaritch soared through the air a bit longer, showing off before landing behind the squad. “Alright, now it’s your turn.” He grinned devilishly. She couldn’t tell what it was, but Spence could see there was something different in his eyes; more confident, more… feral .

Lopez stepped up first, eager to get bragging rights as the first recom after the Colonel to tame a banshee. He didn’t have anything to tie its mouth shut with, so it went just as poorly for him as the Colonel. Lyle went next, followed by the rest.

Then came Spence’s turn. She took the rope they’d been using from Ja, who went last, and moved hesitantly toward the flock. Many of them avoided her or ignored her entirely and her heart sank at the thought that she could be the only one not to make it back with a banshee. But then, at the edge of where a large chunk of the mountain was missing, a banshee with vibrant pink patterns screeched at her. It was acting like it was scared, but Spence could feel the truth of it: it chose her.

Her grip tightened on the rope and her pulse raced. This is it.  Just tie it up,and make it mine. And don’t look down . She almost immediately ignored her own advice, though. Once she tied its mouth shut and leaped onto its shoulders, she glanced at the forest far below and fresh panic seared through her. She tried to connect their neural queues without her feet leaving the ground because she was terrified of being thrown off the edge. With her arms around its neck it bucked, trying to shake her off, and when that didn’t work it scrabbled backwards to hang vertically onto the ledge. Spence now dangled from its pink neck, and her weight was slowly pulling at its grip on the rocks. She reached back to grab her braid, and then-

The banshee lost its grip, and their screams echoed each other as they both plummeted. It flapped its wings to no avail because there was a recom holding onto it for dear life. The recoms ran to the edge of the cliff at the same time as Ja, who was still on the back of his blue and black banshee, dove over the edge after her. It took all his strength to not tumble forward into the fall, holding on for dear life and using all the strength in his body; much to his banshee’s annoyance. 

Spence was also gripping the creature as tightly as she could, as it struggled to level its wings and stop their freefall. Its manic breathing brushed against her bare foot at the base of its neck. She planted her foot against what she assumed was its shoulder blade and pulled herself back toward its shoulders, keeping her other leg wrapped around its neck and reaching to grab one of the queues what flapped in the wind as they descended.

At the same time, Prager ran back to his banshee and took it over the edge is. There’s a better chance of saving her if there’s two of us , he thought. “Tuck in your wings,” he told the banshee, and it did so. They quickly picked up speed and caught up to Ja. Then Prager, not having a feel for flying, willed Atlas — he just felt like an Atlas to him — to spread his wings and slow their flight so he could catch Spence. Atlas screeched, obviously failing to slow down or come to a smooth stop. Prager was thrown off by the downward momentum, and the forced disconnection of their queues felt like ripping apart mental velcro as violently as possible. His limbs spun as he fell, a scream tearing from his throat.

Ja’s eyes widened as he watched Prager careen past him. He fumbled for the comm on his throat, “He fell- Prager fell!” He only heard crackling from the other end in response, and only now did he realize how much closer to the ground they were; the forest floor was quickly approaching.

Below them, Spence swung out her arm to catch the queue in her grip. Her hand shook, and she nearly fumbled her grasp on it when she finally did catch it. She now had to put all her faith in gravity and that the banshee wouldn’t roll over again as she grabbed her braid and brought the two queues together, merging their minds. The banshee suddenly stopped squawking and flailing, their fall stopping so suddenly that she slammed into his back and nearly fell off again.

“Are we good now!?” She yelled at him.

He chittered in response, leveling his wings.

Positioning herself so she could properly ride the banshee, a fear of heights suddenly seemed ridiculous. A dark blur in the corner of her eye suddenly caught her attention, and before she could even think to move she’d lunged out with her—no, the banshee’s—talons and caught whatever flailing object was about to plummet past her.

Another banshee screamed at them from above and Spence looked up to see Prager’s mount crying at her as it approached. Except… it had no rider. She panicked and looked down.

Her mount held her boyfriend in his talons, growling as he struggled to fly in place while holding him. “Oh my God, Prager? What happened?”

Prager was still catching his breath after the fall, his heart racing a mile a minute from the sheer terror of the fall. “I-I’m fine. I fell, but I’m fine.” His hands shook has he gripped the talons encircling his shoulders, and he tried not to look down at his legs dangling above the empty 

“Jesus Christ, guys,” Ja chimed in on comms from meters above them.

“I don’t like how that sounds, Private. What’s the status down there?” Quaritch’s voice this time. If Spence tilted her head back and squinted, she could see him and Cupcake – the squad’s endearing nickname for his banshee –  flying down to them.

“We’re good, Colonel,” Spence answered. “I just need to drop him onto his ride and we’ll meet you up there.” She looked down at Prager again and called out to him without comms, “Do you trust me?”

Prager’s grip tightened. “Of course I do, but I somehow doubt that trust is enough to- TABARNAK !” He cursed as she suddenly, and without warning, flung him onto the back of Atlas. “ Calisse , Phoebe, never do that again.

She grinned, “You said you trusted me!”

His frustrated sigh gave way to a laugh and matching grin as he made tsaheylu and flew up with her.

That night was surely the liveliest in their second life so far. Lyle and Lopez raided the commissary for booze and snacks while Quaritch and Spence gave the mission report to General Ardmore, and Z-dog helped Mansk fire up the grill for the first time – though he soon shooed her away to cook alone. Spence hurried the report on as much as she could, ushering Quaritch back to the barracks so they could chill out and take the metaphorical stick out of his ass for once.

Ja, meanwhile, had somehow managed to find some string lights, and heput them up in the common room with the help of Prager, who was the tallest in the squad. Spider was ushered upstairs as soon as Spence came in with the Colonel, and Ja tapped to connect to the speakers and start playing music. Once the lights were dimmed a bit, they all lazed on the couches and cracked open their beers.

 Most people back at Hell’s Gate would never see anything other than Colonel Quaritch, but everyone here had come to know him behind the scenes as just Miles. Tonight was the first time he’d let slip the stony exterior of being a colonel and let himself relax. He also kicked ass at drinking games.

Lopez was soon horizontal after losing too many times in flip cup – he stretched across Ja and Prager’s laps, who were sitting together on the couch. Spence sat across between Lyle and Quaritch. The three of them got a good kick out of watching Lopez and Mansk lose game after game, but Mansk at least could hold his liquor better. He sat by Z-dog to the side, and she was busy making sure he sipped water.

“Should we play something that Miles isn’t going to immediately win?” Spence said once she stopped giggling.

Quaritch leaned back and propped his feet up on the coffee table. “Not my fault you kids don’t have my drinking wisdom.”

“Technically, we’re the same age now,” Mansk chimed in. “Our bodies, I mean.”

“Something simple, like Never Have I Ever?” Ja presented to the group. “I’ll start,” he grinned like a fox, “Never have I ever had someone walk in me fucking at Hell’s Gate.”

Most people in the room took a drink, even Quaritch. Lopez tried too, before Prager took the cup from his hand and set it on the table.

“Oh, you dick ,” Spence said before taking her shot. “You’re the one who never knocks!”

“Lock your door, damn!” Ja laughed and pointed his cup at Lyle, “Or don’t do it in public, at least.”

Lyle sank into the couch. “That was one time.”

“Anyway, your turn, Prager.”

“Oh, uh…” He struggled to think of a prompt. “Never have I ever faked being sick to get out of patrols?”

Literally everyone in the room drank except him and Lopez, who couldn’t reach his drink where Prager had set it.

Next up was Quaritch, who put his arm behind Spence on the couch and smirked. “Never dated someone from admin.”

Spence lifted her cup, “I swear you’re all just attacking me at this point.” She took her drink.

“Phoebe, I think sleeping with Selfridge counts as, like, self-harm,” said Ja with a snicker. It seemed hearing this from him was the first a few people in the room had ever heard about that happening and looked duly surprised.

She pursed her lips. “If it’s all y’all’s mission to embarrass me, I’m taking as many of you down with me as I can. She turned to Lyle, who wasn’t expecting her to clapback at him, “I’ve never said ‘oorah’ while coming.”

He choked on his spit and eyes widened in shock, “ You’re the one who said we’d never speak of that-” his voice cracked. 

“I’m breaking my silence.” She picked up his drink and held it out to him. “Plus, you gave me pinkeye, so really you deserve this.”

The whole group cracked up as he shamefully took his drink and knocked it back. He took an extra long drink, some of it dribbling down his chin, then slammed the empty cup down and turned back to Spence. “I should get you back for that, but instead I’ll do you a little favor because I am a fantastic wingman.” He paused for effect. “Never have I ever fallen for someone in this room.”

Prager wasted no time to take a drink. Everyone but her had known how he felt in the last life, but they had no idea the two of them had begun seeing each other – there was never a good time to announce it – so he got a few snickers.

A few seconds later, Ja drank.

Everyone, including Spence herself, knew she should drink. She’d been teased for years for her crush on Ja, yet somehow he’d never caught onto it. Prager hadn’t either, so he watched and waited for her to drink, to confirm that she loved him back.

She didn’t raise her cup. 

Prager’s heart dropped. Ja had seen it coming, but it still hurt.

Her eyes flicked back and forth between the two men before dropping to her drink. She stared into the amber liquid until Lyle elbowed her.

“Shouldn’t you drink too, Phoebs?”

Spence looked at him like he’d grown another head. “Are you implying I fell for you at some point, Wainfleet?”

Lyle rolled his eyes and jerked his head toward Ja.

She raised an eyebrow, not understanding his meaning. Then it hit. There’s no fucking way .

She stared at Ja as if she were a deer, and he was an incoming car. He couldn’t possibly… but he could . It made total sense when you put more than two seconds of thought into it. She hesitated, regretting never having come to this conclusion sooner, then lifted her cup to her lips.

Ja and Prager’s ears pricked up simultaneously. Though the latter realized a second too late that this confirmation was not for him. Spence was looking straight ahead, but her eyes weren’t on him. She was looking at Ja . He felt like such a moron, a niaiseux , for never realizing the two of them had feelings for each other in the years he’d spent with them. He drank again, ignoring the rules of the game, before suddenly shoving Lopez off of him and standing up.

All eyes were on Prager now. For a moment, he didn’t know what to do. His ears pressed back flat against his head. He watched Spence realize what she’d done, then stormed out, tears pricking the corners of his eyes.

Spence punched Lyle in the shoulder. “I hope you’re happy with yourself, dickhead.” Even Quaritch grimaced at him.

She chased after him through the front door and down the road; he’d gotten really far already. Prager didn’t even know where he was walking, just that he was trying to put some distance between himself and the barracks. Once he hit the street corner, he realized he would’ve been better off hopping on his banshee and flying off, but he was too far from the roost now and to come back with his tail between his legs, which would’ve been more shameful than what he’d already been put through tonight. Lyle deserved a swift kick in the balls next time he saw him – not that they had balls in the same way humans did, but it’s the thought that counts.

“James!” He heard Spence call after him as he started across the bridge to the airfield, but he ignored her. He found himself stopping in the middle of the bridge. Staring at the dark water below, he gripped the railing. 

Spence ran up to him, stopping a few feet behind him. “Are you okay?” She thought about touching him, taking his hand or squeezing his shoulder, but ultimately didn’t when she noticed his white-knuckle grip on the railing.

“Okay?” He whipped around to look at her. He was silhouetted by Polyphemus behind him, so all she could see of his face were those glowing spots. Even without seeing his expression, Spence could tell he was angry and hurt. “Of course I’m not okay! ” A single tear slid down his cheek, and he hurried to wipe it away. “I was a fool for thinking you would ever actually fall in love with me.”

“I-I did…” She said quietly. “I did fall for you,” she said it louder this time, “I’m sorry I’m only realizing it now.”

Prager nodded and turned to lean against the railing. “I wish you figured that out a few days ago, at least.”

Her shoulders drooped. “I know.”

They were silent for a long minute.

“How long?”

“I don’t know… years? It didn’t happen right away, but,” she huffed, not knowing how to articulate how her feelings for Ja began. She stepped forward and put her hand on his chest, “That’s not important because I'm with you now.”

He smiled sadly. “I think you should take a break.”

“What do you mean?” Her tail instinctively tucked between her legs. 

Prager took her hand, removing it before letting it go at her side. “You need to figure out what’s important to you… because I don’t think if you knew what you wanted that you would have hesitated like that.” He stepped away in the direction he’d been walking before, “and I need to clear my head, but I can’t do that if I’m sharing your affections.”

“James,” Spence whimpered as he walked away, watching him for a long time until he disappeared behind a corner. She dropped to her knees when he was gone.

She didn’t realize she’d been crying until she heard footsteps and looked up, barely able to see who’d approached through her tears. She wiped her eyes on the hem of her shirt.

It was Ja.

Spence stood abruptly, sniffling and turned to face the water so he couldn’t see her face.

“Phoebe?” His voice was quiet and hesitant. She’d known him long enough to understand the emotion buried in it, but he’d never spoken to her like that.

“What?”

“Can we talk about-”

“ No. ” It came out with more force than she meant it, and her chest squeezed. “Alex, listen.” She sucked in a shaky breath before turning to face him. “We can’t, okay? We just can’t.”

“...Why not?”

She motioned in the direction Prager had left in, “Because Lyle’s an idiot, and he just ruined the one good thing I had going!” 

Ja stiffened. He cared about her too much to listen to this and pretend that he could look past it. “What do you mean?”

Spence threw up her hands, “We’re—we were dating, okay? There was never a good time to tell anyone so we’ve been sneaking around like teenagers so y’all wouldn’t catch on and freak out.” She leaned against the railing in defeat, holding her head in her hands. “But I think he just broke up with me..?”

He didn’t want to make things harder for her, but the thought of not comforting her in this moment felt just as awful. He put a hand on her shoulder but it was quickly pushed away.

“Stop, Alex.”

 “I’m sorry.”

Her lips parted like she had more to say, but the knots twisting her insides stole her words. She put her hands up to stop him from saying anything else and walked away, walking back to her room with a heavy weight on her shoulders.

Chapter Text

Prager had been spending more time with his banshee, Atlas, than he had with the rest of the squad. Between learning the Na’vi language, learning flight formations, and training with the banshees, he was spending most of his time in the hastily-built ikran roost. Spider was often there too, which worked out for the kid since he was required to have a recom with him at all times for supervision, but he and Prager strictly avoided each other while at the roost; except for when he berated all the recoms for calling them “banshees” instead of “ikran.”

He was avoiding Spence too. And Ja. This only happened because Lyle intervened, so fuck it, may as well avoid him too. Needless to say Quaritch had already reprimanded all four of them for stirring drama at a time when they needed to work together. If Ardmore heard about this, she would probably cuff Ja, Spence, and Prager together until they could play nice; or at least speak to each other.

Ardmore had been rather pleased with the squad’s performance since taming the banshees. Spence found it really weird, though, that the General was suddenly so approving of them. She’ll make us visit every damn cave in the Hallelujah mountains now , Lopez had said. He was right, of course. The search for Jake and his Resistance could go much faster now that they could bypass Eywa’s immune response, but it still rubbed Spence the wrong way.

Two days on from the Iknimaya, most of the squad gathered in the common room for lunch. Ja and Spence sat at opposite ends of the table from each other, weirding everyone else out.

“Did the doc ever find out what was wrong with your eyes?” Z-dog picked up Mansk’s discarded shades and spun them around her finger before accidentally dropping them.

Mansk looked up at her, those steely gray eyes looking so different from the rest of theirs. “Ocular albinism, or something like that, I don’t know. He says I’m lucky my vision’s unaffected,” He shook his head. “What did he say to you, Ja?”

“Hanf onh,” Ja answered with his mouth full. He finished chewing and swallowed before answering, “Castello doesn’t know for sure… It probably had to do with the grow light when we were still in the tanks? Like it was faulty, or something.”

Z-dog hummed, “Well you look better bald than Lyle at least.”

“Hey!” Lyle feigned a deeply offended look, making them both chuckle.

“Have you heard anything yet on when we’re going back into the field?” Spence directed the question at Lyle, seeing as Quaritch wasn’t here and he was now just a step down from him.

“Nah, but the Colonel should be back soon. I bet Ardmore’s giving him a whole list of missions right now.”

Lyle Wainfleet was not a man known for good timing, but he was dead on this time. As soon as he was done talking, Quaritch walked into the room. The six of them at the table sat up a little straighter.

Quaritch waved his hand dismissively to signal for them to relax. “Calm down,” he got his food and took a seat across from Spence, “Dr. Castello needs escorts for some science crap out in the bush.”

Ja leaned forward to see him from the other end of the table, “But wait, Dr. Castello has the Manducus Taurus parasite.”

Quaritch looked at him like he’d spoken Latin, or grown a a second head. Or turned blue, heh .

“It prevents him from connecting to his avatar, so he’d be seriously vulnerable if we took him out into the rainforest.”

The Colonel shrugged as he chewed, “He insists on going, and Ardmore’s given him permission. Not my job to think beyond that. He wants you to go with him by the way.”

Ja nodded, knowing there was no point in arguing further. And besides, he still wanted to learn all he could from the doctor.

“He requested you, too.” Quaritch tapped Spence’s plate.

She cast a glance down the table, then looked back to Quaritch. “Please say you’re kidding.”

He gave her a look; the kind of look you’d get from a disapproving father. “Come with me,” He stood up and motioned for her to follow. “Both of you.”

They followed him down the hallway, where he was sure the rest of the squad wouldn’t overhear. Then he whipped around and jabbed a finger at them, “Are you two done acting like high schoolers? I don’t know whether to put y’all in couple’s therapy or the boxing ring!”

“Miles, I-” He cut Spence off without even needing to speak.

“I stuck my neck out for you one too many times, Spence, and I ain’t about to do it again. Ardmore would tear you a new one if she found out.”

“...You haven’t told her?” Ja asked hesitantly.

Quaritch pinched the flat bridge of his nose, “There’s no reason for her to concern herself with this soap opera you three have been putting on.” He gestured toward the door at the end of the hall that led to the training area and ikran roost, “I bet she’d handcuff you all together outside and revoke your security clearance until you learned to play nice.”

Spence’s ears flattened against her head and she stared at the floor. He’s right, of course. What is wrong with me , she questioned herself. Just talk to Ja and Prager together, it’s the simplest answer .

Ja crossed his arms and looked to the side in surrender. “Are we taking a gunship, or our banshees?”

Quaritch placed his hands on his hips. “Finally cooperating? Good, ‘cuz Castello will meet you at the roost at 1300 hours.”

Spence arrived at the ikran roost first. The structure was little more than a gutted warehouse, most of the walls having been stripped to make easy access for landing. There were stables on the ground floor for them to sleep in but they refused, instead preferring to sleep together in groups on the top floor. Hers stuck out like a sore thumb with his bright pink skin. He sat alone on the top floor, on the platform he’d claimed as his favorite spot; the only problem with that was the support beam you had to balance on to get to it.

She grabbed the gear she needed and hurried up the stairs, looking to get equipped before Dr. Castillo arrived. Prager glanced at her as she passed, and Atlas hissed at her as if he knew what she’d done… Spence bit her lip and moved on. 

The recoms had all but abandoned footwear, so the metal stairs that had been warmed by the afternoon sun bit at her feet. There was a nice view of the city from up here, away from most of the noise of the never-ending construction and busy airfield. It was almost nice if you ignored the banshee shit, which she nearly stepped in.

She looked up and saw Spider tossing snacks to Tajín and Seraph, Lopez and Z-dog’s banshees. “Y’know, if you’re gonna spend all day here, kid, you could at least clean up a bit.”

“And give up watching you all step in it? No way,” he threw the bag of treats to her; crackers he’d stolen from the pantry. “What’d you name him?” He gestured toward Spence’s, who perked up when she approached.

“Cupid.” Spence tossed the saddle down and whistled to the ikran in question, but he stayed put. She sighed and began to carefully make her way across the beam to him.

Spider called out, a noise that sounded somewhere between a chirp and a howl. It didn’t sound like something a human should be able to do. Cupid reared up, launching himself across the gap and nearly tackling Spence.

“Jesus!” She ducked just before Cupid could knock her off. “How did you do that?” The treat bag in her hand was immediately snatched and she had to wrestle it out of his jaws.

He hopped over Cupid’s tail to stand on the opposite side from Spence, careful to avoid making eye contact with him. “That’s how all Na’vi call their ikran. I taught that Prager guy how to do it earlier because he kept trying to get Atlas to understand French,” he chuckled. “Dumbass.” 

After giving him his snack, Spence scratched under Cupid’s crest until he agreed to let her put the gear on him. It was their daily routine now as he disliked the gear but would put up with it if she gave him enough attention. But when he wasn’t begging to be pet or fed, he was hiding from his own shadow.

“How is Prager, anyway?”

“How should I know? You’re the one he talks to Atlas about, not me.”

She paused after strapping the saddle onto Cupid. “He talks to his ikran about me?”

Spider looked at her like ‘of course he does, stupid’ before walking off. She turned to question him further but he’d already started climbing down the scaffolding to the second floor. As Spence looked over the side after him, Ja came up the stairs with his saddle slung over his shoulder. 

“Alriiiight,” Spence said under her breath and stretched. “Time to face the music, Cupid.”

She didnt’t know what she expected to see downstairs after mounting Cupid and flying him down to land next to Ja, but it definitely wasn’t Prager laughing so hard at something Ja said that he had to lean against his ikran. She figured the two men would be getting along with each other as poorly as she was with them – or even worse, fighting – but the scene before her looked as if nothing had happened at all. It made her hate herself just a bit more to see watch them get along despite it all.

As she dismounted, Prager straightened and cleared his throat while Ja went back to strapping the saddle onto his ikran. A dense air of awkward tension settled over the three of them the moment she arrived, so much so that even Spider noticed it and felt uncomfortable. The ikran seemed to feel it too, as they were unusually quiet. No one spoke.

Spence broke the silence first, desperate to fix things, “Can we talk?”

“About the mission?” Ja said without turning to face her. “Yeah, I think it’s stupid to go out there while Dr. Castello can’t use his avatar-”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” she interrupted him with a hand on his arm.

“Are we doing this right now?”

“I want to fix this,” she turned to Prager, “I feel terrible. Seriously.”

Prager sighed and put his hands in his pockets. “How, Phoebe?”

“I…” The words fell flat before she could even speak them. To be honest, she had no idea what to say. The easiest option would be to go back to how it was, ignoring her feelings for Ja like she’d done for years- God, had it been that long? For all the emotional turmoil roiling inside her, Spence knew that she couldn’t ignore it. Compromise was needed, but what kind exactly? She’d been in polyamorous relationships before, but she couldn’t expect Prager or Ja to just accept that. “I don’t know. At the very least I’d want to stay friends but… just whatever happens, you both need to be okay with it.” 

Ja ears perked up and he brushed her hand away. “We can talk about this later, the doc’s here.”

As he said it, Dr. Castello came up the stairs with a bag of equipment. Spence realized now how different his gray-streaked curly hair made him look from his avatar. His glasses were shoved inside the acrylic mask in such a way that made her worry it would break the seal around his face.

He looked between the three recoms and adjusted the strap on his shoulder, “Am I… interrupting something?”

“No,” Prager patted Atlas goodbye, “we were just leaving.” He snapped his fingers and pointed to the exit, indicating for Spider to come with him; the boy and the doctor fist-bumped as they passed.

Spence went back to Cupid as Ja turned to Castello. “Hope you’re not scared of heights.”

Dr. Castello smiled sheepishly, “I should be okay. I’m excited to get out there." He started towards the ikrans, but jumped away as Ja’s snapped at him.

“Oshun! What did I say about biting humans?”

“Her name is Ocean?” The doctor asked to clarify.

“No, its Oshun,” Ja put special emphasis on the second syllable. “My dad used to tell stories about the Orishas from his home country, so I named her after one of them. Come here,” he held Oshun’s mouth closed with one hand and pulled Castello toward him with the other, placing it on her nose. “See? She’s harmless, like a big dog.”

Castello laughed nervously, elated to be so close to an ikran yet terrified at the same time.

“You can ride with me, and Spence will take your gear.”

“Mm? Oh, yeah.” Spence had been looking at Atlas, who was still giving her the stink eye.

Cupid scooted away as Castello approached, wary of the unfamiliar human. Spence secured the bag and her weapons to the saddle and, with Ja helping Castello up, they all mounted and lifted off.

Spence stayed quiet during the journey. She flew ahead of the other two, who talked nonstop through the whole journey; they stayed off comms for the most part, so she was left alone with only the sound of the whistling wind and distant aerial creatures to keep her company. And her thoughts. She wished she could quiet those in a healthier way but, well. Swiping the last of the beer from the fridge sounded like a really good idea for when this mission was done with.

As they flew over a river where multiple herds of animals were drinking or grazing, Castello shouted and pointed down. Spence heard him and turned around, but she couldn’t make out what he said. She motioned to the radio.

“Land here!”

“These aren’t the coordinates you gave us, Doc.” Spence looked at the little navigator clipped to the saddle; they were still three klicks out.

“That’s fine, I can see what I need from here. This is the same region,” He pointed again to the river, and the foliage on its banks.

She sighed. There was a non-zero chance she got reprimanded later for landing outside the designated area, but there was no point arguing with him for the few minutes it would take to go the rest of the way. She gave a mental command to Cupid to begin their descent, making a wide loop around and back to the clearing by the river.

Upon landing, Spence could recognize some of the animals grazing nearby; sturmbeests, hexapedes, even a couple direhorses. They all fled from the recoms. Nearly every animal on Pandora seemed to turn tail from them, almost as if they knew how unnatural they were.

An uncomfortable feeling settled into her guts. It felt like the moment she touched down, she was being watched. She ignored it.

Ja landed beside her. One hand was wrapped around Castello’s waist to keep him from falling, the size comparison dwarfing the human doctor. Even from here Spence could see Castello was flustered.

“Were you pointing at those dapophets, Doc?” Ja asked as he hopped off of Oshun and offered his hand to help Castello down.

“Yes, paywll ” his hand lingered in Ja’s for just a moment longer than it needed to. “Also, uh, you can just call me Jude. If you want. I don’t mind.”

“Alright,” Ja smirked, “I’ll do that.”

Spence rolled her eyes and handed Castello’s gear to him.

He grabbed his tools and jogged to the dapophets excitedly. This was his first time in Pandora’s wilderness, and he approached it with the giddyness of a child rather than the wariness of a scientist. The recoms both held their a guns a bit tighter. Just in case.

Ja walked closer to Castello to talk with him, but still kept his eye on the forest’s edge 20 yards away. “So, Jude, what are dapophets used for?”

He looked up at him from where he kneeled beside the plant, “I thought you’d know this, being a field medic.”

Ja snorted, “I only know human medicine. Unless you teach me what you know, that is.”

Castello smiled, “Dapophet pods are the best Na’vi healing substance that we know of, like aloe vera on steroids. And the leaves at the top are like filled with water like succulents as well, so you can suck on them for hydration.”

He listened intently to the doctor talk about the uses of the various plants he was collecting and his plans to either cultivate or synthesize them for use in the infirmary. They also both expressed interest in learning whether or not they could be applied to humans as well.

Spence tuned them out completely at some point, staring into the underbrush instead. That nagging feeling still twisted within her. Something, some one , was watching them. For a moment she thought she saw bright amber eyes staring back at her from the tree branches, but she blinked and they were gone. She glanced to Ja, who was still unbothered and talking with the doctor nearer to the treeline. 

“Ja, come here for a sec,” she said over comms.

He tilted his head and walked over, “What is it?”

“Do you not feel like we’re being watched?”

“I always feel like that when we’re out here, it’s Pandora.”

“No, seriously,” she motioned with her rifle towards the dense forest. Only a few meters in it was completely shrouded in darkness, the trees so thick that the sun couldn’t penetrate. “It feels off .”

He shrugged, “Jude hasn’t said anything about it.” He glanced over to the man in question; he was just behind a tree, staring at something growing on the trunk above his head.

Spence narrowed her eyes and glanced between them, silent for a moment. “Could you… stop flirting with him in front of me?”

“What?” Ja blinked at her, processing what she said. “Oh, my god. Why would you even have an issue with it, we’ve dated other people for years.”

Her ears flattened against her head, “It’s different now.”

Meanwhile, in the forest, Dr. Castello stepped a bit further into the underbrush. The air was immediately cooler, and he breathed a sigh of relief. The brush was thick here, and he was almost too short to see over the undergrowth, but he could see that there were many plants he didn’t recognize. One in particular stood out to him, its large orange bulbs looking enticing to any scientist; he approached it with a fresh sample container.

Before he even quite realized what was happening, large hands were lifting Castello under the arms wrenching him away from the bulbous plant as it swelled and exploded. The person who grabbed him turned and tucked his much smaller body into theirs, shielding him from most of the plant’s heated contents that had just burst out.

“Ja…?” He opened his eyes, which he’d squeezed shut. It wasn’t Ja or even Spence holding him, but a Na’vi. They spoke to him in their native tongue, but he was too dazed to understand.

Spence and Ja cut off their argument when they heard the explosion. They ran towards it, thinkin of the worst-scenarios; there were no RDA outposts anywhere near here, so any explosives must be Jake’s resistance, right?

“Hey!” Spence yelled when she saw Castello ragdolled in the arms of a native. They looked different from any she’d seen in the files, with indigo skin and a thicker tail. When they didn’t respond, she shouted in Na’vi, “ Manga! ”

“ Ne kllte, ” Ja trained his rifle on the Na’vi and ordered them to get down. He took a step forward.

The moment he moved, they bolted. Spence and Ja gave chase immediately, sprinting after the pair; they couldn’t shoot without risking Casetllo’s life too. The rogue Na’vi tossed him over their shoulder like he weighed nothing, and he was helpless to do anything but bounce with each leaping bound they took. Leaves and branches sliced at his skin as he was whisked through the forest and he watched the recoms fall further and further behind. Then they were airborn.

“Alex, stop!” Spence screamed and grabbed the back of his vest.

He skidded to a stop just in time, his feet slipping in the loose dirt at the edge of the cliff. If they’d kept running, they would have plummeted straight into a deep, rocky ravine. The Na’vi paused at the other side to cut the vine they’d used to swing across, preventing them from following, then disappeared in the trees.

“Fuck!” Ja shouted and put his hands on top of his head to catch his breath. “What the hell do we do now?”

Spence leaned against him, breathless. “There’s a tracker in his mask, but my locator’s back with the ikrans.” She straightened up. “Let me try something,” she cupped her hands around her mouth and mimicked the sound Spider had showed her earlier that afternoon; it sounded much more alien coming from her, a sound no human could make, but it felt completely natural.

It took not even two minutes for Cupid to reach her, with Oshun following behind. But while they waited their shadows had begun to stretch and the forest ambience around them grew quieter.

“We lost track of time, that’s the eclipse,” Ja looked up at the sun slowly being subsumed by the silhouette of Polyphemus.

Spence was focused on the locator in her hands, watching the blinking dot of Castello’s mask getting further and further away. “We can’t do night ops, you know that.”

Ja ripped the locator in her hands, pointing to where the dot had stopped moving, “He’ll die out here if we don’t do something, a human won’t last the night!”

“So could we! For all we know this is a trap, and before we even get to him the Na’vi will jump out of the trees and skewer us .” She went for the locator, but he held it out of her reach.

“What happened to no man left behind?” Anger laced his voice. “When Kevin died, you risked your life to find Noah before they died too. How is this any different?”

“Shut up,” her voice was quiet, but firm.

“You aren’t the only one who wishes they saved Kevin too. If we leave now, we may as well be condemning Jude to the same-”

Spence hooked her foot around Ja’s ankle and swept his legs out from under him. He landed hard, knocking the wind out of him. Exactly like when they first met. A few tears fell onto his face as she pinned his arm under her foot and ripped the locator out of his hand.

“I said shut up!” 

Ja immediately felt bad when he looked up at her, messy hair falling into red-rimmed eyes, but still stood by what he said.

“We are going back to base, and that’s a fucking order , Ja.”

She pulled him up by the strap of his vest and pushed him toward Oshun. They mounted their ikrans and made for Bridgehead.

Chapter Text

Castello rolled onto his side, clenching his eyes shut against the light that penetrated his eyelids. The sun may be out, but if his alarm hadn’t rung yet, there was no way he was getting up. He threw a hand over his eyes. It collided with smooth acrylic.

His eyes snapped open, and he saw that the source of the light was the bioluminescent mosses that grew on the walls around him. The walls themselves seemed to be wooden, so he thought he must be inside a hollowed-out tree.

He bolted upright. The exopack attached to his waist didn’t seem to be damaged, nor did the hoses attaching it to his mask. He breathed a sigh of relief. Looking around, Castello noticed the space he was in looked very lived-in. Plants hung from the ceiling to dry, baskets sat along one wall, and he lay on a soft woven mat; it was a small space.

He startled as the vines covering the entrance parted and a Na’vi entered. He was simply dressed and had his dreadlocks pulled away from his face.

“You are awake!” He exclaimed in Na’vi. He came over and kneeled beside him, eyes wide with excitement.

Castello knew he should be afraid – he’d been kidnapped, after all – but the scientist in him was fascinated. He’d never seen a Na’vi like the one in front of him; indigo skin and a thick, prehensile tail wrapped around a bundle of sticks.

He tilted his head, “I thought sawtute could speak, but I have never met one of you.”

“I can-” He cringed as he realized he was speaking the wrong language, “I can speak.”

The Na’vi grinned wide, exposing his canines. “Tewti! I have not spoken to someone in so long, much less a sawtute! What is your name? I am Zu’ap.” He made the gesture for ‘I see you.’

He spoke so fast that Castello almost couldn’t keep up. He returned the gesture, and couldn’t help but smile. He never thought he would get the chance to meet an actual Na’vi after the war destroyed all diplomacy with humans. “My name is Jude.”

Zu’ap’s ears perked up and he turned around, dumping the sticks held in his tail into a basket and grabbing a platter piled with grub-like insects.

“Teylu. You must eat.”

Castello eyed the food warily. Had he been in his avatar, he was about 80% sure he couldn’t eat them; it was haram to eat larvae. But he’s just a human, and there was no telling what effects Na’vi foods would have on his digestive tract. I don’t want to be rude, he thought. He tapped his mask, “I can’t. I need this to breathe.” He hoped that was convincing.

Zu’ap looked confused, his amber eyes narrowing. “Then how do you eat?”

“I can breathe the air where I live,” he smiled sadly, “so I can’t stay here.”

Zu’ap frowned but nodded. “I will take you to where I found you tomorrow. You only slept through the eclipse.” He sat beside the mat and popped a teylu into his mouth, “I am sorry for taking you… I was scared.”

“It’s alright.” Castello hadn’t meant to say that, but he didn’t exactly find it to be untrue. Even while being whisked through the forest as the soldiers chased him, he never felt unsafe with Zu’ap. “I think they were scared too.”

They fell silent. Castello checked his pockets while Zu’ap ate, and found that his radio and sample slides had fallen out while he was being carried. But his datapad was still tucked into the interior pocket of his vest. He pulled it out, readying the stylus and looking up at Zu’ap.

“While I’m here, can I ask you some things?” If they never saw each other again, he wanted to learn all he could.

Zu’ap nodded, mouth full.

“Where is your clan? You said you hadn’t spoken to anyone in a while.”

He swallowed, “I was separated from the Ko'on ì ä'kxetse during the war. My people are far from here, but I do not know how to get home.” He smiled as if to say ‘It’s okay, though.’

Castello didn’t recognize the clan name. The RDA had records of even the most reclusive of Na’vi clans they’d come into contact with, and even the supposedly mythologized ones such as the Alyara, but this one didn’t ring a bell. He circled it in his notes to look into later.

If he made it to later, anyway. Without his radio, he had no way of contacting Bridgehead or the recoms. He would just have to hope they could find the tracker in his mask.

They talked for a while longer. Castello mostly asked about what it was like living alone on Pandora and about the things in his home; he tried to avoid asking about the clan in case it was a sensitive subject. Zu’ap answered ecstatically, excited just to talk to someone. He had been avoiding other Na’vi for a long time, but sixteen years was far too long to spend in solitude without craving some sort of company.

Eventually, the sunlight filtering through the vines that covered the door disappeared and the mosses on the walls dimmed, leaving only the glow of the datapad between them.

Castello looked up at the mossed ceiling when he realized how dark it was, “Most plants glow at night, why did these ones go out?”

Zu’ap shrugged, “I call them tsawprrwll. They need sunlight, I think. My mother was an herbalist, she could tell you if she was here.”

“Oh…” Castello realized he meant his parents were dead. That must be why he’s alone . “I-I’m sorry.”

“For what? You did not kill them.” He smacked his tail against the floor, “I like to think they went home, and that they miss me.” 

Castello spun his pencil, trying to think of where his clan could possibly be. Then it hit him. “What about Eywa? She could show you if they’re alive.”

Zu’ap shook his head slightly.

His jaw dropped, “You… you haven’t communed with Eywa? Not even once, in all these years?”

“There is no Utral Aypizayu here, and I do not know where to find other trees. But that is okay,” he sighed, “really.”

Castello stood up so he was at eye level with Zu’ap. “Do you have an ikran? The Tree of Souls isn’t too far from here if you fly.”

Zu’ap furrowed his brow, “My people do not fly, there are no ikran on the island.”

“No ikran?” Castello scribbled down a note of what he had said. “What if my friends took you, I’m sure the Omatikaya would let you connect to-”

Suddenly Castello was knocked flat on his ass. Zu’ap had only meant to push him back a few inches, but underestimated his own strength and shoved him instead. They looked at each other in surprise.

“I-I am sorry,” Zu’ap inched back, “I do not want to talk about this anymore.” He bolted outside before Castello could say another word.

He waited for his newfound friend to return, but as the night deepened, so did his exhaustion. He could only fight off sleep while sitting in the dark, comfortable abode for so long, finally giving up and laying down on the soft woven mat again.

He woke to screams.

The shrieks of banshees blended with the yells of people. Castello stumbled to the entrance, head pounding from dehydration, and brushed the vines aside. The sudden daylight made him squint so that he couldn’t see the scene before him for a few moments as his eyes adjusted.

He froze. Every recom was here. Lopez knelt on Zu’ap’s back and restrained him. Guns swiveled toward the motion as Castello emerged from the tree.

Ja lowered his gun and ran to him, “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

It took a moment for him to process it. Ja’s hand on his shoulder snapped him back to reality.

“Y-yes, I’m fine.”

“ Jude! ” Zu’ap cried out in Na’vi, “ Help! ”

Castello pushed past Ja and walked up to the Colonel, “What do you think you’re doing?”

Quaritch raised a brow. “Subduing the hostile.”

“Let him go, there’s no need to shed any blood today!”

“He kidnapped you, in case you forgot.”

“I was in no danger,” Castello’s face reddened in anger in frustration. “Do not kill him, Colonel.”

Zu’ap was struggling more now, writhing around and trying to grab whatever part of Lopez he could with his tail. Tears streamed down his face as he pleaded with his captors in a language they could hardly understand.

He cried out when Lyle pinned his tail under his foot.

“Stop!” Castello shoved the ARs in the soldiers’ hands so that they pointed away from Zu’ap. He kneeled beside him and wiped the tears from his cheek. It was beginning to bloom a deep red, no doubt from being hit with the butt of a rifle.

“ What are they going to do to me, Jude? ” Zu’ap whimpered.

“ I’ll get you out of this. ” He hoped he could keep that promise.

Ja approached Quaritch, “Sir, if I may?”

Quaritch’s lips were pursed, disgruntled by the doctor’s actions. He eyed Ja and nodded.

“Dr. Castello is completely unharmed. I think we should listen to him.”

The Colonel barked a laugh, but there was no humor in it. “I know you joke around, Ja, but are you serious?”

Ja huffed, looking to see if anyone else held the same sympathies. Prager, Z-dog, and Mansk avoided making eye contact with him, and Lyle was still pointing his rifle at the Na’vi. “Spence? You saw them yesterday, he never actually tried to hurt Dr. Castello.”

Spence pinched her nose, “We can’t just let him go .”

Castello looked up at them arguing. The desperation in his eyes was evident and pulled at Spence.

She stepped up to Quaritch, “What about taking him in? We could question him then, and maybe the science guys could make some use of him.”

Quaritch’s eyebrows shot up, “I wouldn’t have expected that from you, Corporal.” He unclipped the orange handcuffs from his belt and tossed them to Lopez. “Cuff ‘im and throw ‘im on your banshee.”

“What? No!” Castello objected, making a grab for the cuffs in Lopez’s hands.

Lopez yanked the cuffs away from the doctor and slapped them onto Zu’ap’s wrists. The moment he realized what was happening, Zu’ap started thrashing and wailing again, straining underneath the recoms that held him. Ja had to scoop up Castello to keep him from interfering, or worse, hurting himself.

Once the cuffs were in place, Lopez grabbed the Na’vi’s queue and hauled him up to his feet. Pain like Zu’ap had never felt before exploded through his whole body, blurring his vision. He couldn’t even tell if he’d actually screamed or not. In a last act of defiance against the demon that held him, he kicked his captor as hard as he could and made a break for it into the forest.

Lyle raised his gun. Castello screamed. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. Zu’ap ran as fast he could into the trees, but he didn’t make it far. With his wrists bound behind his back and his vision blurred with tears, he couldn’t see the fallen branch in his path. He fell, hard, and then Quaritch was upon him. The Colonel delivered a swift blow with the end of his rifle, knocking Zu’ap out, then hefted him over his shoulder.

Castello struggled against Ja, but it was no use. A mere human could do nothing but watch as the recoms mounted up, prisoner in hand, and took off.

Chapter Text

Despite clearly being an adult, the Na’vi they had captured screamed and cried like a scared child as he was hauled off to his jail cell. Dr. Castello wanted to follow, to make sure his friend wasn’t being mistreated, but upon landing he was quickly ushered away to the science labs for parasite removal and a thorough checkup. 

Ja watched all this with an uneasy feeling in his stomach. It’s not like he had any affinity for some Na’vi they’d just met, of course not. But he couldn’t deny the cruelty wrought upon him. Especially when Dr. Castello, who Ja considered to be his friend, had reacted so emotionally to his treatment. It just rubbed him the wrong way. On the opposite end of the spectrum, Prager was unbothered by the whole ordeal. He felt a little bad for pissing Castello off so much, but he didn’t take much issue with how Zu’ap was captured– most of the squad didn’t. He hadn’t been harmed, not really, so it was no biggie. They would just move on with their lives.

The sea was eerily calm this afternoon. Very little breeze came off it, and there was barely a cloud in the sky. Ja had stuffed a few random flowers into his vest when they were out in the woods with Castello the day before and laid them on the makeshift grave for the five who’d died barely a few weeks before. They were sad and crumpled, and a few had even been blown away overnight. Ja scuffed his boot in the dirt. Brown, Zhang, Fike, Warren, and Walker didn't deserve any of this shit.

He turned around when he heard boots crunching behind him. It was Spence. His tail lashed behind him, “If you're here to argue about Jude again, save it.”

“If I was gonna do that, I wouldn't have looked for you here,” she stopped next to him, “You know I'm not petty enough for that. I'm over it, anyway.”

He looked at her, “Are you?”

Ja knew her too well. She bumped his hip with hers playfully, “It’s whatever, honestly. I always got over it before.”

He opened his mouth to ask what she meant by before, but they heard more footsteps before he could get the words out.

“Well now it's just a party, isn't it?” He said sarcastically.

Prager stopped a few feet away, his ears tipping downward. “Sorry for my bad timing… I-I could go, if-”

“Don’t.” Spence put her hand out for him to take, “Come here.”

He looked down at her outstretched hand, up at Ja, and then finally at her again before hesitantly taking it. She tugged him over to stand with them. He slipped his hand out of hers and crossed his arms as his tail made nervous arcs behind him.

They were silent for a few minutes, paying their quiet respects to their fallen friends. Until Ja snickered.

“What’s so funny,” Prager asked.

“Nothin’, just,” Ja put a hand over his mouth, “Brown ‘n’ Walker would take the piss out of us if they could see us these past few days.”

“Fike too… God, we’d never live it down,” Spence almost laughed as she thought about it.

Prager turned to them both, “Do you think Zhang would trap us in a room and make us talk it out like a therapist?”

They both giggled. “Quaritch actually threatened to do that,” Spence replied.

“But with more force involved,” Ja said.

They settled into a silence again, though more comfortable this time. A bit of the tension between the trio had been lifted. Even the weather seemed to reflect it as the sun appeared from behind a cloud.

“I think you were right,” Prager finally muttered. “...About fixing things. I miss you guys.”

Spence’s heart jumped a little bit at that. After the argument with Ja, a part of her worried she would never get the chance to work things out between them. She smiled, “I’m glad.”

Ja’s ears perked up. “Hang on,” he said, “Put your earpiece in, Spence, the Colonel’s asking for you.”

She raised an eyebrow and put the device in her ear as he said. “Hm? You needed me, Miles?”

Quaritch sounded irritated in his response, “You were supposed to meet me back here ten minutes ago so we could go interrogate the blue, remember?”

“Oh shit,” she muttered to herself. She nudged the two men beside her, “Rain check? I’ve gotta go do this thing.”

After jogging back to the barracks, Spence rendezvoused with Quaritch and Lyle. The latter apologized for his failed attempt at being a wingman a few nights ago while they made their way to the cells, but Spence still kind of held it against him. Well, in part. She was at fault too, but she wasn’t about to admit that to Lyle. He still hadn’t made up for the pinkeye he’d given her anyway.

The holding cells lay in the lower levels of the admin center. Everything here was cold and stark white, distinctly opposite from the fangs and forests that lay just outside Bridgehead’s perimeter. The recoms stuck out like a sore thumb, towering over every human they passed by, but at least they belonged here in a sense; unlike the prisoner they were on their way to speak with.

Spence and Lyle ducked into the observation room as Quaritch opened the door to the main part of the cell, datapad in hand. Zu’ap cowered away from him in the corner near the one-way mirror. Around his wrists were hefty metal handcuffs chaining him to the floor. The skin there was chafed, likely from struggling against the restraints for the past few hours. A CO2 mask had been forced onto him as well to keep him from suffocating in captivity; that didn’t stop him from trying to take it off, though. He’d run out of tears a long while ago.

“Pesengit Jude?” Zu’ap muttered from his corner.

“What?” Quaritch sneered, “English, blue. Le'Ìnglìsì.”

“Pesengit po,” he asked again.

Quaritch sighed and looked to the one-way mirror. “One of you get in here, I don’t know what he’s saying.”

“I’ll go,” Spence said to Lyle, “You can’t speak Na’vi for shit.”

He choked on the coffee he’d been sipping, “Okay, rude.”

“But true,” she countered as she slipped out of the observation room.

The glass door to the cell was just a few recom-sized steps down the hall, it would only take a few moments to reach it. But halfway there, she heard a loud, meaty WHACK followed by the jangling of chains. She jogged the rest of the way and scrambled to swipe her DMT across the door’s scanner, thinking Zu’ap had retaliated against Quaritch.

She exhaled – partly in relief, partly in disgust – when she realized it was the reverse. Quaritch held the tablet in one hand, Jake Sully’s face displayed with ‘WANTED’ in large text below it; his avatar’s face, that is. Zu’ap was doubled over, a red imprint where Quaritch had just backhanded him was blooming over his already existing bruise.

Quaritch grabbed the handcuffs and hauled Zu’ap up to his knees, shoving the tablet into his view. “Tell me where he is, and this will go way easier for you.”

Zu’ap shook his head frantically. He repeated his question from earlier with more urgency.

“What the hell is he saying?” Quaritch directed the question to Spence.

“Uh…” she furrowed her brows, trying to remember what ‘peseng’ meant. “I think he’s asking where Jude is? That’s Dr. Castello’s first name.”

Zu’ap looked to Spence when she said Castello’s name, desperation in his eyes. She felt a pang of remorse for him then; the same she would have felt had he been human.

Quaritch reached around and grabbed his queue, forcing him to look at the image of Jake again. “This man, Toruk Makto. Where is he?” 

Zu’ap shook his head again, gritting his against the pain of the Colonel squeezing his kuru. “I don’t know! Please, let me talk to Jude.”

Huffing angrily, Quaritch swiped to the next entry on RDA’s most wanted list: Jake’s wife. “Her?”

The Na’vi whimpered. He had no idea who these people were, or why he was expected to know.

Spence leaned against the wall and crossed her arms. “I don’t think he knows anything, Miles. Where we picked him up was nowhere near any known clan territories.”

“Does he look like he’s from any known clan to you?” Quaritch spat back at her. He turned back to Zu’ap and swiped to the next wanted profile.

An icy knot of dread formed in her stomach. The photo was grainy, but it was very clearly Noah’s avatar. Blood was splattered across their cheek and they were directing a bow at the camera, no doubt some poor soldier’s body cam moments before his death. They were still dying their braids purple, even after all these years.

“Please… I want to see Jude,” Zu’ap cried.

Quaritch hit him again, more so to vent his anger than to convince him to talk. Their only Na’vi encounter since the ambush, their first prisoner other than Spider, and he was completely useless to them. Quaritch shoved him away and rubbed a hand over his eyes. Then kicked him in the ribs just for good measure before taking a breath from his CO2 mask.

“Miles,” Spence said matter-of-factly, “we aren’t gonna get anything unless we let him see Castello. The doc will be a better translator anyways.”

He looked at her, clearly not happy with how the interrogation had played out. Without a word, he made for the exit. She followed him out, sparing Zu’ap’s curled-up form one last glance before leaving the cell.

“Well? What now?”

“I’m gonna go get the fuckin’ doctor myself, Spence. What else?” His ears were slicked back and his tail stuck out in a straight line. She could practically feel the anger and frustration radiating off of him as he stalked ahead down the hall, leaving her behind. 

Ja and Prager had decided to walk back to the barracks together shortly after Spence left them. They couldn’t really blame each other for what happened that night at the party, but it felt wrong to put it entirely on Spence.

Ja shoved his hands into his pockets. Then rubbed his neck. Adjusted his hat. He didn’t know what to do with his hands. He spoke up when he caught Prager eyeing him nervously. “Do you remember when we…”

Prager coughed, cutting him off. “Yes.”

“We should tell Spence about that. When she gets back.”

“Should we?”

“I mean,” Ja shrugged. “I think she deserves to know. Whichever direction this thing goes.”

“Would you want to know? I-If it were you, I mean.”

He shrugged again. “If it was recent, I guess.” Ja put his hands in his pockets again. “But all the way back when we did? That’s not a big deal.”

“Oh…” Prager cleared his throat. “Right.”

It took Ja a second to catch onto his awkward reaction. He stopped dead in his tracks when he realized. “No shit?” Then he clapped Prager on the shoulder, “Ha! I don’t know whether to be proud of you or insanely jealous. I’ll stick with the first one.”

Prager covered his face, “You don’t need to make a big deal out of it.”

Ja laughed it off.

Their walk grew quiet again for a few minutes. If it were a movie, they would be hearing sea birds along with the background noise of ocean waves and construction, but the kill zone prevented all of Eywa’s creatures from getting anywhere near Bridgehead unless they had a DMT on them. So without the calls of gulls, the stretch of dirt road felt almost too quiet as they walked.

As they approached the barracks, Prager finally spoke up. “Would you want to spar for a bit?”

“Yeah, I could let off some steam,’ Ja smirked. “Best-of-five?”

“You’re on,” Prager replied.

They shoved each other through the door and raced to the gym, only stopping to switch into workout clothes. 

Castello almost had to jog to keep up with Quaritch’s much faster walking pace as he followed him to the cell block. Spider had been with him when the Colonel barged into his lab – they’d been looking at the samples Castello had collected before being captured –  and chased after the two. Quaritch didn’t give either of them an explanation, just grabbed Castello’s avatar by the sleeve of his coat and hauled him out of the lab. He’d stopped trying to demand an explanation about a third of the way to their destination, resigning himself to just finding out when they got there. He found it unlikely that he was being brought to Zu’ap despite how much he wish it to be true.

Quaritch stopped at the door to the observation room, interrupting the conversation Spence and Lyle were having inside, and nudged Spider inside. “You ain’t goin’ in there with us, so stay here.”

“What?” Spider was completely confused until he leaned into the doorframe and looked through the window. On the other side were stark white walls and hostile fluorescent lighting, exactly like the room he’d been kept in upon first being brought to the city. “No- the fuck is this?”

Spence gave him a look that she hoped was reassuring, “It’ll be easier to just come in, Spider.”

He tried to step away instead, but Quaritch grabbed his shoulder and pushed him inside. Lyle pulled the door shut before he could leave again. He took a sip of CO2 to avoid saying anything to piss the kid off even more.

Quaritch scanned his ID and the glass door to the cell slid open. Zu’ap sat against the wall, out of immediate view of the door, with his head on his knees. The edge of his mask dug into the flesh of his face, but he could barely feel it over the throbbing pain of the multiple blows he’d been dealt that day.

The moment Castello stepped inside and saw him, he gasped. He immediately kneeled beside him and put a gentle hand on Zu’ap’s shoulder. The Na’vi started at the sudden contact and flinched away. The fear in his face was soon replaced by confusion, and then realization suddenly dawned on him.

“Jude? You are a-a dreamwalker?” His voice wobbled.

Castello breathed a sigh of relief that his friend was – mostly – okay. He nodded, “Yes. I’m so sorry this has happened.”

Zu’ap’s eyes welled up again, and he shoved his face into Castello’s shoulder. He stiffened, not expecting Zu’ap to trust him enough to speak to him again, let alone seek comfort in him. Just as he’d moved to put an arm around him, Quaritch separated the two.

“Enough,” he growled. “This is an interrogation, not a date.”

Castello stood, gently holding Zu’aps elbow to help him to his feet. He noticed the way he was careful in moving his ribs. “Did you do this to him?” Castello grew to dislike Quaritch even more.

The Colonel ignored the question. “We only kept your little friend alive to get the information we need outta him.”

“He doesn’t know anything, he’s been alone since the war!”

“I suggest you ask him again,” Quaritch displayed the image of Jake once more, “or I suspect you won’t like what comes next.”

Castello’s ears flattened. He turned to Zu’ap, gesturing at the tablet Quaritch held, “Do you have any idea who that man is?”

Zu’ap shook his head so fast that his loose dreadlocks whipped across his face, “I hid or ran from everyone, Jude. Tell him.”

“He has no idea,” Castello said to Quaritch. “He was completely alone out there, he doesn’t know anything. 

Quaritch raised an eyebrow. “Been a long time since the war, doc. Long time for him to be so close to those savages without ever meetin’ a single one.” The corner of his mouth pulled back in a cruel smile and he patted the sidearm strapped to his thigh. “I suggest you get him to tell you what he knows, or it might get ugly.”

“What is wrong with you?” Castello’s face twisted in anger and acid coated his words, “I would have hoped you Marines were smart enough to know when to give up, but it seems you’ve reached a new low here, Ranger Rick.”

Spider snickered a little in the observation room. Dr. Castello was usually shy, but to see him tear into Quaritch like that was kinda hilarious.

The man in question narrowed his eyes and reached for his mask. “Careful, doc,” He took a long breath from the mask before continuing, “Last time someone insulted me like that, I shot her.”

Castello’s tail bristled and swished behind him. In all his hundreds of hours of simulation training, he had never experienced anger while within an avatar. The feeling of his ears pushed back and his tail standing on end certainly enhanced the emotion. “Release him into my custody.”

Quaritch couldn’t help but let a dry laugh escape his lips. “What?”

“I said,” Before he’d even realized he was doing it, Castello stepped forward and grabbed the collar of Quaritch’s shirt, pulling him down to eye level. “Release Zu’ap into my custody.”

Immediately Quaritch drew his sidearm, pushing the barrel under Castello’s chin. Zu’ap didn’t really know what it was that he held, but he knew enough that it was dangerous. He began to scoot away from the pair.

Inside the observation room, Spence stood from her chair so fast it tipped backward. She turned to Lyle, “What the hell is he doing?”

“We need to stop him!” Spider stood up and ran for the door, but Lyle scooped him up and pushed him back toward Spence. She put a hand out to steady him when he stumbled, but he smacked it away.

“He won’t kill him,” Lyle said, but he couldn’t hide the shred of doubt in his eyes, not from Spence. He gritted his teeth, “Just wait one.”

Castello’s eyes met Quaritch’s, his courage wavering. “What, are you going to shoot me?”

Quaritch couldn’t deny that this situation was all too similar to the last interaction he’d had with Grace Augustine- no, that wasn’t him. That was just the guy he got his memories from. He bared his teeth in an almost-smirk as he decided to quote what the human Miles had said back then, “I can do that.”

Quaritch caught it the moment Castello lost his nerve. The doctor’s face said it all. His eyes darted to the side, where the one-way mirror stood between him and the only people who could convince the Colonel not to kill him. In one swift motion Quaritch’s knee met his gut, then he shoved him backward so hard that the metal wall practically echoed from the impact. Zu’ap flinched, drawing back into the corner as he had earlier. His fight or flight had chosen the secret third option: freeze.

“Wanna try that again, doc?” He holstered the gun.

Castello weighed his options. If he couldn’t get Zu’ap out of here, he’d either be left to rot in this cell or killed for being useless to SecOps. And if he fought with the Colonel much more, Castello himself could get jailed for treason. Quaritch tapped his foot. He was running out of time to think this through. He only saw one path that might convince Quaritch; it seemed like a slim chance, though. He took a sip of CO2, trying to stall for time as he racked his brain for any other option. This was the only one.

He straightened himself, brushing the wrinkles from his lab coat, then met Quaritch’s cold gaze once more. “Let him go with me, and anything he tells me will be reported right back to you and General Ardmore. He’s not from any clan I’ve heard of, this could be valuable.” Castello’s throat dried out as he spoke. He hated it, but it was the only way. “There’s a chance that Sully is working with his people.”

That piqued Quaritch’s interest. He put his hands on his hips. “You drive a hard bargain,” He looked to the one-way mirror and jerked his head, motioning for them to meet him in the hallway. “I’ll talk to Ardmore. You can go back to your little science experiments now.” He opened the cell door, waiting for Castello to leave before him.

In the hallway, Lyle held a handful of Spider’s locks like a Na’vi queue to keep him from trying to run again. He let go when Quaritch gave him a disapproving glance, and Spider immediately headed off to return to the labs with Dr. Castello.

“Do you really think Ardmore will approve of it,” Lyle asked.

“We’ll see, won’t we,” Quaritch replied. He handed the tablet off to Spence before turning in the direction of the elevator bank at the end of the hall. “I’ll handle the General, you two can go.”

The two recoms exchanged a tense glance. Even Lyle was unnerved by the lack of hesitation to pull his gun on the doctor, which said a lot. Spence gave Zu’ap one last glance as they passed his cell door. They made eye contact through the glass, then she was gone.

What had been a simple sparring match in the training gym had spiraled out of control of the best-of-five rules they had laid out. Prager won the first time, besting Ja after three bouts in a row. Not ready to admit defeat, Ja insisted they go again. By the time he’d won the first round, Z-dog, Mansk, and Lopez had caught wind and come to take bets on who would win – Lopez went all in on Ja, but the other two knew better – Prager won yet again. But they had been using decoy knives this whole time, so to even it out, they cast them aside and raised their fists instead. It had gone from what could’ve passed as combat training to a no-holds-barred wrestling match.

This is what Spence came home to. She told Lyle she wanted to train and be with alone with her thoughts – a thinly veiled way of saying she was going to wail on a punching bag until she couldn’t feel her knuckles – but instead she found the WWE Smackdown event.

“What the hell is going on in here?” She asked as she walked in.

Ja had Prager pinned to the ground in a way that looked far more erotic than the average wrestling hold.

Z-Dog looked up from where she sat against the wall with Mansk, who was tracking scores and bets on a notepad. “They’ve been at it the entire time you were in interrogation,” she responded as Prager tapped out.

Mansk made a tally under Ja’s name, then handed some cash to Lopez.

Spence gripped her water bottle, watching the two men reposition to fight again. “And none of you thought to stop them?” 

They shrugged.

With a countoff from Lopez, the match began again. Prager switched it up by sweeping a leg under Ja to knock him to the floor and grabbed his tail before he could get up. Ja flipped and kicked out as Prager dragged him by his tail, his foot colliding with his gut and knocking him backward. Ja got to his knees and pounced on Prager in one swift motion. They tangled, each man fighting for dominance as if they had something more to prove than strength. Tails and queues narrowly avoided injury as they rolled.

Prager braced his forearm against Ja’s neck and pushed him off, using the momentum to roll on top of him and pin him down by pressing on his bare chest. Ja laughed breathlessly, the smile on his lips baring his fangs. That damned grin. It made Prager’s heart jump a little, giving the man below him the moment of hesitation he needed to reverse their positions. 

Before he knew it, he’d been flipped onto his stomach. Ja was on top now, straddling him and pulling his arm back so far that it strained against the socket. Prager gritted his teeth and tapped out.

Ja’s ears perked up as he looked back at the others, excited about the win, but his tail stopped mid-arc when he saw Spence with them now too. He cleared his throat and looked down at Prager, who he was still straddling. “Hey,” he tried to sound nonchalant while getting up, but his voice wavered slightly.

“Hey…” Spence responded.

Prager sat up and turned. His cheeks flushed when he realized that she was there.

“I thought you guys were getting along.”

“We were- are. We are,” Prager said. His ears drooped like he was a child getting scolded. “We were just sparring.”

“There was definitely something…” Z-dog waved her hand vaguely toward them, “else happening there for sure.”

Lopez grinned as he counted his winnings, “I don’t care what freaky homoeroticism was just happening in front of me, I robbed you two blind.”

Z-dog punched him in the shoulder.

“So everything's fine?” Spence directed the question to the two who’d been fighting.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ja picked his shirt up from where he’d stripped it off earlier and wiped the sweat from his face with it, “We were just sparring.”

“How was the interrogation?” Prager cut in.

Spence slid down the wall in the empty space between Mansk and Lopez, the latter patting her knee. “He pulled his gun on Dr. Castello.”

Ja’s brow furrowed.

“I’ve been through my fair share of interrogating, but this one just bothered me for some reason.” Zu’ap’s eyes as she walked past flashed through her mind. “I can’t place exactly why.”

“Well it’s the first one,” Lopez said. “Probably just nerves. You’ll do better next time.”

“Right… next time.” She hadn’t stopped to consider that more Na’vi might be captured after Zu’ap. She stood suddenly, moving toward a punching bag, “Well, if you’ll excuse me… I really wanted to be alone in here.”

They all nodded, agreeing that the excitement was over, and gathered their things to leave. The other three left, but Ja and Prager lingered near the exit. They gave each other a look.

They watched as Spence wrapped her knuckles in preparation. She set her feet the proper distance apart and took a slow deep breath before swinging, her entire body moving to add power to the punch. But she was distracted, and the bag swung back to hit her before she could move out of the way.

“If you two aren’t leaving, you could hold the bag for me,” she huffed.

Prager dropped his shoes next to Spence’s and held the bag steady. He was just in time for her to deliver a combo of punches that would have taken down any one of the recoms. He waited for her to pause to catch her breath before he asked, “Can we talk?”

She glanced between the two of them, “Right, shit.” She dragged her hand down her face. “I… I owe you both an apology.”

Ja finally joined them, leaving his things with theirs and joining Prager on his side of the bag. His tail swished in anticipation.

“I love you both, I really do, and I’ve been really stupid lately.” Her cheeks warmed as she realized she opened with that. “I should’ve communicated with you, James, or at the very least… God, I don’t know. I still don’t think you deserve to have to deal with my shit-” She realized she was vomiting words and shut her mouth.

A moment of silence passed. Her tail tucked between her legs.

“Keep talking,” Prager mumbled.

Spence took a breath. “I’ll understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore because I messed up, but I still want to be friends with you… I’m sorry.”

He nodded, but didn’t say anything.

“You two are so doom and gloom,” Ja finally spoke. “I forgive you.”

The tension in her shoulders suddenly dissolved, “I haven’t even apologized to you yet, Alex.”

He shrugged, a small smile on his lips. “I’m taking my own advice now. We may have been mutually pining for years, but we’ve also been dating other people the whole time. I had no right to be as upset as I was.”

“Yes, you did.”

“Well I’m not!” He clapped Prager on the back, interrupting the deep thought he appeared to be in. “I’m more than a little jealous, though.”

Prager startled, releasing his grip on the bag. There were small indentations in it where he’d dug his fingers in. He took a few more seconds to gather his thoughts before speaking, “There’s no way we can continue as we were…”

Spence’s heart dropped, despite knowing what he was about to say.

“...But I don’t want it to end, either.”

She nodded sadly, moving the bag to put it into position again. It wasn’t until she readied her stance once more that she processed what he said. “Wait, what? What do you mean?”

To be honest, he didn’t know what he meant, not exactly. He loved Phoebe, that much was clear. But deep down there was something else too, someone else. Someone who now stood just to his left.

“I haven’t been totally honest with you, either,” Prager said. His heart was beating so fast that it echoed in his ears. His eyes darted around, looking anywhere but at her. “We, uh- Alex and I, we-”

Ja snickered and squeezed his shoulder, “He’s trying to say we hooked up once back in the Hell’s Gate days.”

“D-did you have to put it so bluntly?” Prager’s face felt hot.

Spence blinked slowly, processing the information, then her jaw dropped. Her brows furrowed, “James is quite literally the last one of us I expected that to happen with, Alex– except for Z or Walker, but that’s obvious. Kevin? Absolutely. But you? Wow.”

“Oh, Kevin was there too,” Ja looked a bit proud of himself, “It was after that last New Year’s party with him.”

Prager buried his face in his hands.

“I was wondering why you guys left early… I ended up leaving with Amari,” she watched Ja wince as she said her name and raised a brow, but decided now wasn’t the time to question it.

“We were drunk,” Prager chimed in.

“Yeah, who wasn’t? I heard even the Colonels could barely walk after that party,” Ja replied.

Another moment of quiet fell over the three. Spence bit her lip in contemplation, her tail lashing nervously behind her. There was a simple solution to this relationship dilemma: the three of them together. It was more plausible now that she knew there was some history between them, but she didn’t want to push anything.

It was at least worth asking them.

“So… Do you two have any feelings for each other besides that one time?”

Ja thought for a moment, then nodded. “I think I’m a little bit in love with all of my friends.”

Prager tensed when they both looked to him, the question they held obvious. “I-I don't think I'm comfortable dating multiple people at once right now, if that's what you two are wondering.”

“That’s… okay. Really,” Ja took a step back from the two of them, “I shouldn’t try to force myself onto this,” he gestured to them when he said ‘this.’ As true as it was, it felt like a punch to the gut.

“Alex…” Spence stepped forward, negating the distance Ja put between them. She was now close enough that her arm brushed Prager’s.

“Wait,” Prager stopped him before he’d even finished forming his own thoughts. “I-” He dragged his hand down his face and took a slow breath, releasing it before continuing. “I’ve been thinking, and- je ne sais…” he looked down at Spence and took her hand, “I want you to be happy, and if exploring things with him will do that, then I’m okay with it.” He wasn’t sure he meant it as he spoke, but the moment the words had finished leaving his mouth he knew he meant them. A small smile graced his lips.

Her heart skipped a beat. It felt a bit like a dream. “Really?” She squeezed his shoulder and turned him to face her, “You’re absolutely sure?”

He nodded.

A breath that he didn't even know he'd been holding left Ja’s lungs. “This feels like when the RDA said they’d pay my tuition to medical school if I took a tour to Pandora.” He let out a tired laugh and closed the distance between them, “It’s stressful, and scary, and I can’t quite believe it’s true.”

The two men exchanged a look that Spence couldn’t quite decipher; it reminded her of the way Trudy would look at her before they ever started dating.

She released his shoulder, instead trailing her fingers up his neck to cup his cheek. She turned his face to hers, “James, I don’t want you to do anything because you think I want it. It should be for you.”

He put his hand over hers, cherishing the warmth against his skin, then pulled her in for a kiss. It was soft. He poured as much truth into as he could in those few short seconds before breaking.

“It is. We’ll be okay.”

Before they could get any further than an inch apart, Ja wrapped his arms around them both. “Hah, let’s fucking go!” He pulled them in for a hug and leaned back, lifting them off the ground slightly.

“You guys are so sweaty, let me go!” Spence complained, but couldn’t help but smile.

Ja released them and grinned wide. “Sorry, sorry. It’s just I’ve been waiting five years for this, I’m excited!” His bobbed behind him, proving his point.

“Well you’ll have to wait a little longer because you’re not getting anywhere near me while you smell like that,” she playfully shoved the both of them toward the exit.

Prager looked offended, then tugged his shirt up to sniff it. “Merde, you’re right.”

They both said their goodbyes and gathered their things before making for the exit. Ja stopped just shy of the doors and turned around.

“We’ll see you at dinner?”

She nodded, “See ya later, Alex.”

He could’ve sworn there was a twinkle in her eye just then.

Chapter Text

The moment Quaritch caught wind of Spence, Prager, and Ja getting along again, training became more intense. It felt to them as if he’d been lying in wait for them to mend their relationship so he could haul the squad out further and further into the bush; emotional conflict was deadly in the field. Even the ikrans were exhausted by it.

It served a dual purpose as well. Now that they could surpass Eywa’s immune response and traverse greater distances into the Hallelujah Mountains, they were tasked with surveying it. SciOps had finished development on a device that had only existed as a prototype until now.

“The hell is it?” Quaritch asked when picking up the small device for the first time.

Wei Chang, a geologist from MineOps who originally left Pandora when the RDA was forced to leave, was the head of the project developing the device. “They’re survey beacons,” he answered, “like the ones used to map out caves on Earth. Satellite data doesn’t give enough intel on the floating mountain ranges, but these use a frequency that the electromagnetism of the mountains doesn’t interfere with like it does to most instruments.”

The recoms tuned out most of what he was saying the moment he began nerding out.

“Here,” Chang plucked the beacon from Quaritch’s much larger hand and placed it on the ground. “Just stick the spike in the ground like this, and twist it.” As he twisted the two halves of its body, a green light on the side flicked on and a button at the top revealed itself. “Then press this button, and another light will come on.”

“That easy?” Lyle looked down at the scientist, who looked back at him as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

“You may want to try hiding them in the underbrush so Na’vi or animals don’t find them, but yes.”

“Simple enough,” Quaritch stared down at the little device. He didn’t like being assigned to do science guys’ grunt work, but there was a chance they’d run into Jake again out there. “Roll out, people.”

The sun was out in full force, reflecting off of the pale stone that made up the floating mountain above. Spence considered snatching the sunglasses from Lyle’s bald head just so she could stop squinting so much.

The recoms split into four pairs when they entered the mountain range. Spence had to admit she had her worries about splitting up after the ambush, but covering more ground meant they could spend less time in enemy territory. Lyle slung his arm around her shoulder before she’d even had the chance to think about who she wanted her partner to be.

“You’re doing it wrong,” she chastised. It had been an hour, but they’d only managed to deploy two beacons so far; each pair had five.

A red light blinked on the side of the device while he tried to reattach a piece of metal too dainty for his big blue fingers. “You said that last time.”

“Because you were wrong then, too. And before that.” She pushed her sweaty bangs out of her face. “Just give it to me.”

He huffed and tossed it at her feet, tail slapping the ground. “Not my fault that Wang guy practically made these things outta tin foil.”

“His name is Chang,” Spence corrected him. She pulled her glove off and finessed the broken piece back into place on the beacon. “Were you even paying attention when he showed us how to do this?”

He huffed and walked off while she finished. 

An ikran cried in the skies nearby. They thought nothing of it, seeing how wild banshees were everywhere here; Mons Veritatis was only a klick away.

Lyle raised his rifle and peered through the scope. In a moment he was already running back over to Spence and dragging her further into the trees.

“Bogeys,” he said into the comms for everyone to hear, “flying in formation.” He paused to haul himself onto the branch above them so he could see while staying concealed. “Looks like they’re heading north toward your pos, Colonel.”

Quaritch didn’t miss a beat. “Split up and follow ‘em. The rest of you, rally on me. Stay high and tight.”

Cupid and Buttercup looked like they already knew something was wrong when their bondmates came running out of the trees. The latter was growing restless and could barely wait for Lyle to make tsaheylu with him, nearly diving off the edge before he could. But Cupid was nervous, and Spence could sense it even before they connected. They had to wait a few minutes to follow them. Once the three Na’vi riders disappeared behind another floating rock, Spence urged Cupid to take off and ascend above the thin line of clouds. 

A few kilometers away, Mansk and Prager dove into a cave on the same floating mountains the Colonel was on. It swallowed them like a gaping maw, concealing them in darkness as they awaited new orders.

As Mansk hopped off of Tomahawk, the recoms heard rifles clicking and a flashlight was pointed into their eyes, blinding them. What were the odds that this cave just happened to be the Resistance’s hideout, and they were immediately captured because of it? They raised their hands in surrender.

The light flicked off, the rifle lowered. “Jesus.” Z-dog’s voice. “Call in before you swoop into our cave, guys.”

“...We didn’t know you were in here,” Mansk replied.

Quaritch put his hand up to indicate for them to stop talking. “Ja, Lopez, land in the cave on the east side. Corporals, wait for our signal,” he ordered through the radio.

Lyle lay on his stomach on the back of Buttercup to avoid being seen by the Na’vi directly below him. “What’s the signal, Colonel?”

“Us.”

It was over as soon as it started; a radically different outcome than their previous battle some weeks prior. The three Na’vi were disorganized and inexperienced. Had it been anyone else, had it been Jake Sully , things could have been much worse. No one was killed this time. They got lucky. Z-dog had to duck to avoid an arrow in her skull, and Lopez's shoulder was clipped – well, more like pierced through – the arrow had gone clean through and taken a chunk of flesh with it; blood cascaded down and obscured the tattoo on his forearm.

Ja leaped from Oshun’s back before she’d even touched the ground and ran to where Lopez was staggering away from Tajín. “Shit, shit, shit,” he cursed under his breath as he grabbed Lopez’s unharmed shoulder. “Stop moving and let me see!”

Lopez groaned as he pulled his vest off and unbuttoned the shirt underneath to reveal the bloody wound underneath. With a huff he decided to just take the whole thing off, seeing as it was already soaked in blood and sweat anyway.

“You didn’t need take your tits out, you could’ve just pulled the sleeve up…” Ja said while he took disinfectant and and gauze out of his medkit.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it- AHH! Carajo! ” he hissed in pain and a string of curses cut him off mid-sentence. “Puta que te parió!”

Ja’s cheeks warmed at Lopez’s words before he started cursing. “Calm down,” he switched the hand that was applying pressure to his shoulder, “I haven’t even cleaned it yet.” In his free hand he held the disinfectant, carefully unscrewing the cap without dropping it.

Lopez grabbed his wrist, “No joda, Ja.”

“Here,” Ja shoved some extra gauze into his mouth, “bite down on that.” Without waiting for Lopez to protest or struggle, he poured the disinfectant into the cut. Lopez writhed in pain and tried to leap away him, but Ja held him firmly by the arm.

“You’re such a baby, Lopez.” Now that it was clear he would be okay, Spence could tease him while Ja stitched up the wound. “How’d you get all those tattoos if you can’t handle pain?”

He spit the gauze out of his mouth, “Shut up, this is a normal response!”

The atmosphere around them, which had been charged with dread and anxiety the moment it became apparent Lopez had been hit, lifted while Ja worked. He’ll be okay were the words that collectively passed through their heads. Even Quaritch couldn't help but let the relief slip onto his face, a small smile pulling at his lips.

With the survey beacons in place in enemy territory and transmitting a steady, albeit shaky due to the electromagnetic interference, stream of data back to Bridgehead, Blue One was finally awarded a day off. They’d been planning for weeks to steal a small buoy or two from the marina to use as a makeshift recom-sized football to take down to the only empty strip of beach within city limits, near their friends’ graves, and the time had finally come. The weather was perfect, they bought up the last of the beer from the commissary, and Lopez’s shoulder was healing well after a visit to Dr. Castello.

The barracks were empty and quiet. Couch pillows were tossed haphazardly across the floor and dirty dishes sat patiently in the sink. Ja ignored all of it, smacking his tail against the table he’d perched on in rhythm with the clock, waiting for Spence to come out of her room. She told everyone to go ahead, that she needed to change and take care of some things, but Ja stayed behind. Days had passed since the three of them had talked things out enough to start arguing, and Prager gave his blessing to open the relationship, but Ja had had time with neither Spence nor Prager since then. Any time not training was spent in the clinic with Castello, who had now been ordered to teach Ja as much as he could about Na’vi medicine; for the betterment of Project Phoenix, Ardmore had said.

So focused he was on fiddling with the woven bracelet around his wrist and the thwack, thwack of his tail that he didn’t hear her walk up behind him. 

“You still have that?”

Ja startled and nearly slipped off the edge of the table. Her words didn’t even register in his head. Spence had somehow acquired a short wetsuit between their near-constant training sessions, and it fit her perfectly. The tailoring of it was more remarkable than it existing at all given the speed of 3D printing– well, Ja would’ve thought she looked remarkable regardless. 

He realized he’d been staring. “Sorry, what?”

“The bracelet.” Spence smiled, but then it fell away. “Mine wasn’t in my things when we came back.” Her ears drooped. “I’m sorry. It meant a lot.”

“I can make another one, Phoebe. I…” he glanced down at the bracelet, then back at her, “I actually was about to ask you out when I gave it to you.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.” He’d never told anyone that that was what the bracelet meant. His cheeks felt hot.

An awkward moment passed.

“Kevin’s watch is gone too. Even though I had both of them on the list, neither were there.” 

She didn’t say it, but Ja could tell it was destroying her. “My ring is gone too. Not that I could wear it now, but… I went insane looking for it on the first day.”

Spence sat on the table next to him “I remember putting them both on. Or that other version of me put them on, at least. They weren't on my body when we found it.”

“Your dog tags were gone too, right?”

She hummed in affirmation.

He hopped off the table and grabbed her shoulders, tail flicking behind him. “What if someone took them? Someone we knew, I mean.”

“I doubt it,” she sighed, “ Sully killed me, remember?” She took his hands from her shoulders and held them in her lap. “I don’t want to talk about that right now.”

She’d never told him she let them escape. She couldn’t tell him; not any of them.

“Right…” He trailed off, distracted by the warmth of her hands in his. They fit together like puzzle pieces. “Well,” he cleared his throat, “should we join the rest of them at the beach? If we stay here too long they’ll probably, um, make assumptions.”

“You go.” She stood and released his hands, but didn’t put any distance between herself and Ja; there were only a few inches between them. She could feel his body heat. “I have something to take care of that I’ve been putting off for… alarmingly long.”

“Is it something I can help with?”

A grumble left her throat in response as she tilted forward and leaned into his chest. “No,” her voice was muffled by his shirt.

Almost instinctively, his fingers found their way into her hair, cupping her head and pulling the rest of her closer. They’d been in this position hundreds of times of the years, but it felt deeper now, the ache of unrequitement replaced with the hot coals of a desire that they hadn’t had the chance to stoke into a blaze yet. “Do you want me to come with for moral support?”

Spence pulled back just enough to look up at him. “I’m afraid you’ll make it harder. It’s…” She pouted, “I don’t know. I’ll tell you after.”

“Okay,” he gave a soft smile and brushed some hair out of her face. “I’ll be on comms if you need me.”

Dr. Castello loved not having patients; he loved his job too, don’t get him wrong, but there was nothing better than sending away whatever avatar or recombinant he was treating and diving back into his research. He was still focused on the leaves he’d harvested from the dapophet plant. They could treat so much – cuts, burns, bruises, even stomach aches or bug bites – and there were so many ways to cut, grind, and mash them to get different results. Zu’ap had discovered many of these ways himself while living for years alone, and Castello was hoping he would be able to synthesize the plants for medical use in the near future.

Just as they had finished a very rambly, off-topic conversation about the various ways to make natural sunscreens, they could hear boots  trudging up the hall. Zu’ap hurried to the back of the room to be as far as possible whatever recom was approaching.

“Hey, Doc,” Spence poked her head into the lab. She’d been treading lightly around Castello ever since the capture and interrogation of Zu’ap. “You busy?”

Castello, in his human body, didn’t even look up from his microscope. “Is it urgent?”

She shifted on her feet, uneasy. “I think so.”

“Is someone bleeding out?”

“No.”

“Then yes, I am busy.”

He finally looked up at her as she shoved her way into the lab and crouched on the other side of his desk. She hadn’t seen Zu’ap in the back of the room before; he flinched away as soon as she entered. It had been a while now since the interrogation, and he hadn’t left Castello’s side since.

“How’s he holdin’ up?” She said as she watched the Na’vi push a stray loc behind his ear and go back to the necklace he’d been weaving from various materials he’d stolen around the building.

“Fine, now that he’s with me,” Castello crossed his arms and looked up at her. “What did you need, Corporal?”

Spence averted her eyes and took a sip of CO2. “It’s um…” She couldn’t tell if she was more nervous or embarrassed.

Castello’s scowl relaxed as he realized she had a genuine medical concern. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. It’s what I’m here for.”

“God, this is embarrassing.” She dropped from her crouch to sit on the floor. Now eye level with him she muttered, “Are there recom-sized pregnancy tests?”

His eyebrows shot up, “Oh.”

She’d never been embarassed to talk about this with a doctor before, and it wasn’t exactly the first time that she had, but the circumstances here were… certainly different. She didn’t even know how this new body worked, let alone if a hybrid like her could get pregnant at all. And Castello was really the only person she could ask, which made it worse; if she’d just gone to the doctor immediately it wouldn’t even have been easier. “It’s just that,” she took a breath, “I sort of assumed it was normal not to have my period considering that this body is new or whatever, and I don’t even know if Na’vi have those, but then– well,” Spence’s cheeks warmed and she was sure it was visible. “I-it was obviously more concerning after we had sex. But that whole week was just so messy, and then training got crazy, and oh my god I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

He exhaled through his nose in a not-quite-laugh. “It’s okay. You don’t need to tell me any more if you don’t want to, Corporal.”

“Right. Um. I don’t think I used to ramble this much, I’m sorry.” She held her tail in her lap and fidgeted with the fur at its tip absentmindedly.

Slipping the slide out of his microscope, he shut it off and gave her his full attention. “If I’m hearing your right, I take it no one bothered to give the briefing on recombinant health before you actually became a recombinant? Or a dossier, even? I was told that you all had.”

“N-no…?”

“Aahhhh, me cago en la leche! Excuse my language. What a major oversight…” He pinched the bridge of his nose.

Spence furrowed her brow, understanding what he said from the few years of Spanish she took in high school and years of exposure to Spanish speakers in the Marines and SecOps. “Wait, you speak Spanish? Didn’t you speak Arabic before though?”

“Yes, yes, my father is Spanish and my mother is from Morocco–” he waved his hand dismissively. “That’s not important right now, ask about the all languages I speak later if you really feel the need.” He stood up from his chair and approached the exit to the lab opposite to where Spence entered, toward the part of the building filled with air suitable for Na’vi. “If you come with me I can speak with you at eye level and fill you in on what the Hell’s Gate scientists failed to… who do I even complain to about that…” He grumbled the last part under his breath.

Zu’ap stuffed his half-finished project into an RDA-issued pouch he’d been given and bounded out the door after him. Spence half expected him to hiss at her and put himself between her and Castello, and he probably would have had it been nearly any other recom, but instead they walked side-by-side – albeit a few feet apart – behind Castello.

When she caught him side-eyeing her, Spence thought it might be a good idea to greet him. “Hi- I mean, kaltxì .”

Castello smiled to himself as Zu’ap gave her a funny look.

“ My name is Phoebe. You’re Zu’ap, right? ” It took her a moment to remember introductions; those weren’t exactly relevant to interrogating, so she hadn’t practiced them.

He didn’t respond to her. She hoped a little that he might say something to her eventually, but it made sense that he wouldn’t. The only recom h seemed to not despise thoroughly was Ja.

Soon enough Castello was in his avatar and the three of them were in a medical briefing room. With a single swipe the display of his datapad transferred to the glass in front of them, showing a fairly simple slideshow.

“I’ll send these files to you and the rest of the squad later,” he said as he flicked through some slides with information she’d already figured out just by living as a recom, “but this is what you asked about,” he finally stopped on a slide.

Zu’ap looked completely dazzled by the digital display and all the colored graphics.

Spence’s eyes flicked across the screen once, twice, a third time. She chewed on her lip for a moment, processing it. “You couldn’t have just told me this in the other room?”

Castello looked between the simplistic Na’vi-shaped figures on the slideshow and her, “I expected you to react more negatively.”

“Why? I don’t want kids, anyway.” Her words weren’t untrue, but the tone they were delivered in wasn’t exactly convincing. “Can it be undone, at least? And the guys got saddled with this too?”

“It…” He tapped the remote to his chin as he thought for a moment. “It would be very invasive to undo it, Na’vi biology is just too different from our own in that respect. Even if we could, I just can’t see General Ardmore approving the procedure, let alone the funding it would take for recombinant children. We don’t know how their brains would develop either… there’s just so much risk-”

“Jake Sully had children.”

Castello’s voice caught in his throat, the rest of his thoughts on the subject halted. He paused to think again before responding. “I hesitate to say it, but I imagine a Na’vi would attribute that to an act of Eywa,” Zu’ap perked up at the mention of the only word he could understand in the conversation, “but there is a very miniscule chance that for him it just didn’t take. Near zero, but… maybe.”

Spence sat back in her chair. “So that’s it, I’m sterile? Well at least that explains the lack of condoms.”

“I‘m sorry. You’re taking this news very well.”

She shrugged, “Like I said, I don’t want kids. Especially not when we’re at war.” Her jaw twitched, betraying her, and she stood up suddenly. “It’s my day off today. Thanks, but I’m leaving now.”

“Fibi.” Zu’ap’s voice caught her off guard. He looked like he hadn’t completely figured out what he was going to say before he spoke her name. “Hayalovay.” 

She nodded, not knowing what he said and not having the patience left to ask Castello. She was glad he had finally chosen to acknowledge her, though.

 Blue One took games very seriously. At Hell’s Gate it was usually something that could be played at a table like beer pong or pool – the latter got so popular that they once organized a base-wide competition that Lieutenant Carter won – but now that they could go outside without restrictions, the possibilities were practically endless. With Spence missing there was an uneven number of them, so Prager volunteered to sit out and keep score for them. When she finally did arrive, it reminded her of how most old TV shows had a beach episode— if beach episodes typically involved Lopez getting tackled to the ground by five 9 foot tall aliens.

Prager sat off to the side on a rock, drawing little lines in the sand for each point. He seemed distracted, staring at the waves, and jumped when Spence came up behind him and looped her arms around him, leaning against his back.

“Are you okay?”

His hand found her way to hers over his chest. “Yeah, you just startled me. Why wouldn’t I be?”

She rested her chin on his shoulder, “You’ve seemed… different since we woke up. All of us have, but you’ve been quieter. The old you would’ve been out there with them.”

“You were gone so there was an uneven number of players…”

“When has that ever stopped us? You and Brown used to play Kevin’s hand for him when he’d sneak out to see his secret boyfriend during poker night.”

“That,” he swallowed thickly, “that was different. I’m still James, I’m fine. Are you okay? Your heart feels fast.”

“I’m just worried about you, Jamie… I think the soul drive changed us, somehow,” she paused to take a breath. “I’m fine,” she responded to his question,” I, um, I actually thought I might have been pregnant. But I can't be, so it’s whatever.”

“Wait, wait, what do you-”

“Hey, lovebirds!” Lyle yelled at them from across the beach. There was sand stuck to nearly every inch of him, including his bald head. “Get in here!”

The walls of the Valkyrie shuttle thundered around them. No one spoke, for the noise of the ship would drown out any conversation; not that anyone had anything to say. There were sixty of them, fresh off the boat you could say, waiting to see what Pandora had in store for them. Most were ex-military, grizzled and tough like nothing could scare them, but some looked terrified. The scientists in particular looked like they might piss themselves as the reality of it sunk in.

Alexander Ja didn’t want to admit that he fit into the latter. He thought he hid it quite well, though the crescent-shaped marks in his palms where the nails dug in told a different story.

One woman in particular stood out to him. He could just see her sitting across from him on the other side of the ship through gaps in the cargo. She didn’t look scared, or even unphased like the rest of the mercs, she just looked… empty; like she wouldn’t notice or care if the thorns on the flower tattoo growing up her neck and shoulder suddenly came to life and drew blood.

He saw her again later; her red hair really stuck out in a crowd, and he noticed her ahead of him in the hallway as groups of new recruits were being ushered into the Hell’s Gate training center. Sparring, the attending commanding officer told them. The recruits all looked confused – after all, what good would hand-to-hand combat serve against Na’vi twice their size? – but the officer in charge just waved them off and read off names for them to pair up. Ja paid little attention, his eyes flicking between the woman from the ship and the commanding officer.

The CO in question, an older East Asian man with a tattooed neck, didn’t introduce himself when he’d entered, but the name tag embroidered on his chest read “Colonel Anderson.” Ja found it odd how one of the three colonels present at the briefing the day before would bother with training the fresh meat; maybe he just wanted to gauge how long they’d last. The strangest part, though, was the choice to hide the lower half of his face – the air in Hell’s Gate was clean, and there had never been a major outbreak.

Before he could begin to wonder what was under the mask, the Colonel called him up. He’d completed Marine Corps basic training (barely) on Earth, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t worried about going up against one of these merc-type guys. His partner was to be Corporal Spence, and he shuffled off to an empty mat to wait for them.

He was surprised to see that it was the woman from before. She was shorter than he’d realized, and prettier too. The scattered freckles across her skin and a few curly strands escaping her ponytail suited her face perfectly.

Ja smiled, thinking he could make at least one friend on this planet, and put his hand out for her to shake. “Hey, I’m-”

Spence took his hand and pulled, taking him down without a moment’s hesitation. He had at least six inches on her, but throwing him took almost no effort whatsoever.

It was somewhere in the moment that he lay on his back with the wind knocked out of him, staring up into her cold blue eyes, that he fell for her.

“Do you think we’d get in trouble if we started a campfire?”

The sun had long since slipped behind Polyphemus, and the night had grown cold. Lyle and Lopez were shivering in their half-nakedness. They were far enough out of the main construction and airfield areas that they could just barely see the stars above the city, the foreign constellations that had become so familiar during their tour on the planet twinkled faintly down at them. 

“With who, me?” Quaritch asked, leaning against a large piece of driftwood with a beer in his hand. “Light that fire, I don’t give a shit. Ardmore shouldn’t neither.”

Lyle whooped and jumped up. “Wait,” he realized, “we got nothin’ to light it with.”

At that, Prager flipped a lighter out of his pocket in a quick, fluid motion; action so ingrained in his motor cortex that it carried over into the soul drive. “Yes, we do.”

“That’s my little pyromaniac,” Ja chimed in from a few feet away.

Z-dog elbowed him, “I think you mean our pyromaniac. There’s a reason he has the flamethrower.”

“I’m not an arsonist,” Prager muttered as he crouched to light the kindling Lopez and Spence had dropped in front of the group. “I’m normal about fire.”

“‘I’m normal’ is exactly what you say when you’re not normal about it,” Mansk replied.

Prager pursed his lips and continued setting up the campfire. It came to life quickly, orange flames dancing in front of him and licking warmth across his skin. He sat back on his haunches before the fire could grow too much and burn him.

Lyle plopped down next to him. “You look like a native sittin’ like that.”

“Have you looked in the mirror lately, Wainfleet?” Prager chided, but sat back anyway. “We look like them anyway.”

“Haha!” Lopez laughed and sat on Prager’s other side, resting an elbow on his shoulder, “Your eyes are so far apart, Lyle, I could fit my fat ass between them.”

“Wow. Do you wanna die, Lopez?” Lyle lunged across Prager to smack Lopez on the head.

“Ay, coño, you’re uglier than me.”

Lyle full sent at him, putting his full weight into Prager’s lap as he shoved Lopez over. He responded by putting Lyle in a headlock, dragging even more of him across the poor Lance Corporal. They scrapped for another 30 seconds or so before Prager had had enough and shove Lyle off, nearly pushing him right into the fire.

“Shit, that burns!” He stood up and turned in a circle trying to get a look at his tail before finally just grabbing it, “You nearly singed all the hair off!”

“It’s almost as bald as your head,” Spence chuckled from where she sat on the other side of the fire with Z-dog and Ja.

Prager scooted away from Lopez, who was still leaning against him after the play-fighting. “Sorry, sorry.”

“You should get some sleep, James.” Quaritch spoke from Ja’s other side. “I can tell when you haven’t been.”

“I…” He knew the Colonel meant it when he used his first name; he hardly ever did. And he wasn’t one to argue with him. “Yes, sir.”

“I’m gonna turn in, too,” Quaritch said as Prager stood up. “Early day tomorrow.”

They all collectively groaned, remembering that they had to go back to their jobs when the day ended. Z and Mansk stood as well, and Quaritch pulled Lopez up.

“Well, if everyone’s going…” Lyle mumbled.

Spence leaned back, “I’ll stay a bit longer. I’ve been wanting to swim a bit on my own before Z and I get thrown into frogman training.”

“Girl, don’t remind me…” Z-dog crossed her arms, “I’m trying not to think about it.”

“I think I’ll stay, too.” Ja said. He noticed Z-dog giving him a look and stammered out a reason, “Probably shouldn’t swim alone at night, y’know?”

She laughed at him and sauntered off, the others following behind. 

Once the others disappeared into the dark, Spence turned to Ja. “My lifeguard in shining armor, huh?” 

“Come on,” his cheeks warmed and he distracted himself by swishing his mostly-empty beer back and forth. “I wanted some alone time with you.”

A smile played at her lips and she leaned in. “Well you have me all to yourself, Alex. Now what?”

His heart skipped a beat, cheeks flushing as he met her eyes. Half-lidded pools of honey stared back at him. He leaned in toward her, the distance between them so narrow that their breaths mingled and fanned across their faces. “I feel…” Ja whispered, barely audible above the crashing waves, “…like I need to ask permission.”

“Oh, just kiss me already.”

Spence could still remember the first time they’d kissed. It wasn’t romantic of course, they never could have imagined they’d actually be dating when they were human, but it made her heart nearly leap out of her chest as it did now all the same. Like some cheesy romcom movie, she’d tripped in the mess hall and crashed into Ja, simultaneously spilling her food and locking lips with him as he just barely caught her in his arms; everyone who saw teased them for months, some even years, after. She hadn’t fallen in love with him yet back then. 

It wasn’t the third time, either. That was just over a year after the first time. Her whole squad was drunk, crammed into her quarters, and sitting around and empty bottle— except Mansk who sat on Spence’s bed. They’d emptied the bottle only moments before Brown had set it down, spun it, and kissed Lopez without even announcing the game. After a round where everyone silently chose to pick Prager, it was Ja’s turn. And it landed on her. Before either have them had even registered it, Lopez and Brown jumped up and hauled the two of them to their feet; they’d chosen that moment to turn it into seven minutes in heaven. Because of course. Their chests pressed together – her closet was too small to fit two people comfortably –  and she wasn’t sure if the heartbeat she felt racing was his or her own. Lopez leaned against the door and refused to release them until they kissed, saying ‘I’m the greatest wingman ever, just trust me!!’ so they did it to get him to lay off; but they definitely didn’t waste as much of the 7 minutes as they could have before doing so. Then they never spoke of it again.

She was glad she’d kept those memories in the transfer, even if they weren’t really hers. But this was real – the hand squeezing her thigh, the tongue in her mouth, the arm pulling her in close – these were her own memories now. Any pretense of conversation just a moment ago had melted away, given way to feelings that had been locked awa for years.

Ja moved his hands slowly, reverently, trying to imprint her skin into his tactile memory as if he were dreaming and aboutto wake up in his human body any minute. When this feeling didn’t dissolve in his hands he became bold. Spence was gladly lifted into his lap and pulled close his chest. There was hardly an inch between them, and she could feel the passion in how he kissed her shift. It was as if he felt the need to show her how he had really felt all these years, prove to her that he loved her. 

Her tail made arcs in the sand behind her as she grinded down against his hips. His grip on her hip tightened and she pulled away, gasping for air.

“Sorry, did you not want to?”

“I do,” He grumbled low. “But there’s so much damn sand, it’ll get everywhere .”

“Mmmm,” Spence hummed and looked toward the waves on her left. “I did say I want to go swimming. What if we…” Her voice trailed as she tugged idly at the front zipper of her wetsuit.

“Please say you mean skinny dipping.”

She bit her lip and nodded.

He hurried to get her out of her clothes before tearing off his own. There was hardly a moment while they made their way to the water that they could keep their hand off each other. Every curve and bend of the trails of stars across her skin was revealed to him and he couldn’t help but trace them with a fingertip.

The whole squad had already passed out by the time the two of them returned to the barracks. Spence could faintly hear her own ikran circling above them as they slipped into the building and she tugged him toward her room.

Chapter Text

Artificial morning light streamed into the room from the wall-to-wall screen. It was set to some meadow from decades ago on Earth, back when there were still big open fields instead of young, new cities to compensate for overpopulation in the older ones, or mines and farms attempting to extract what little the planet had left. The projected grass swayed as little birds chirped in the background, the rising sun slowly bleeding orange into the clear blue sky.

Then Ja’s alarm went off; 0500 hours. Fuck me.

Spence had woken before him, only minutes before the alarm clock next to his bed began screaming at them to get up for work. He’d wrapped himself around her in the night, clinging to her like one of those velcro monkeys she got at a zoo once, and nestled his head in the space between her neck and shoulder. He reached over and smacked the snooze button.

“Alex,” she lightly flicked his ear to elicit a response.

He merely grunted and shoved his face deeper into the pillow they shared.

“Alexander Ja, we are going to get caught if I don’t leave your room in the next few minutes.”

“Mmmmgggffff,” he groaned into the pillow. “We aren’t breaking any rules.”

“No, but Lyle and Z-dog definitely won’t let us hear the end of it.”

Ja suddenly propped himself up on his elbows and stared down at her. “I was in love with you for nearly five years and most of this squad teased me about it for basically every second, so I think I can handle a little more.”

Spence tried to fake a pouty face. “You were in love with me?”

“Oh, you just want to hear me say it?” She nodded, and he planted a kiss on her cheek. “Fine, Phoebe Spence, I am in love with you.” He kissed her again, “and because I love you,” and again, “I’ll let you go. But I’m gonna follow you because we still smell like the ocean.”

“Aw, I thought you were about to say you’d follow me anywhere,” she giggled. “It is way too early to lovebomb me like this.”

“I would do that too,” a sleepy grin spilled across his face.

She kissed him back and then pushed him off so she could sit up. Her things lay in a trail from the bed to the door, and as she leaned over to grab them, Ja’s fingertips trailed up her spine. She shivered.

“Last night was nice, by the way.”

Grabbing her panties and his shirt – it was closest – she stood to put them on. “Just nice ?” She crossed her arms and faked being offended.

“Oh, please, you just want me to keep praising you.”

She nodded.

“No, it was great. Really.” He sighed and rubbed the last of the sleep from his eyes, “It’s just… for some reason, I kept expecting that to go as badly as the last time I slept with someone.”

“Oh.” She sat beside him on the bed, “What do you mean by that..?”

“It was Amari.”

Spence nodded. She remembered Amari breaking up with Ja very suddenly; she never told Spence exactly why, but she didn’t forgive him up until the moment she – presumably – died.

“I said your name in bed and she realized I was only dating her because she… looked like you…” 

It took a moment for her mind to process exactly what he said before her jaw dropped in shock. But in the few seconds she stared at him like that, the more it started to make sense. Amari never actually gave a reason for the breakup; it clicked in Spence’s head that she’d kept that from her so she wouldn't reveal his feelings.

With each second that passed, the more anxious Ja became that she was pissed off at him the way she was after the breakup. But then she started laughing.

“Oh my god , Alex,” she wiped a stray tear from the corner of her eye, “All this time I thought you'd done something so much worse.”

“Wait, you're not mad?”

“I definitely was when it happened. She’s one of my best friends, and you led her on.” She caught her breath as the laughter receded, “but it’s kind of hilarious in hindsight.”

He sighed in relief. Then, without even really thinking about it, he added, “I do miss her though. I-I mean, in general-”

“I get it.” And she did. She’d lost so many people that the promise of Ripper and Anderson squads returning was hardly a balm for the pain. “I can't wait to see her, and everyone else. Especially Chloe.” Spence pushed her hair out of her face, “I think she’d like Dr. Castello.”

He finally pushed the sheets off and picked his discarded boxers up. “Yeah…” The alarm clock now brightly displayed the time as 0515, indicating they’d wasted far too much time in getting to the showers, “Shit, we gotta go.” He jumped up and pulled his boxers on, then crossed the room to fish his towel and toiletries from his wardrobe.

She stood too, lips pouted slightly that their peaceful morning was about to come to an end. “I’ll see you at breakfast, then?”

“Of course.”

He caught her by the waist as she was about to leave and kissed her, then she slipped out the door.

Nothing particularly exciting happened in those next few days; unless you count Lyle seeing Spence leave Ja’s room that morning and handing Z-dog ten dollars in whatever bet they had made. When they weren’t training – tactical diving, dogfighting, and lessons with Spider on how not to act a fool in the Pandoran bush – they were looking high and low for Jake Sully.

He’s an elusive bastard. Quaritch used some… meaner words to describe him after weeks of nothing , neither stripe nor tail of him. It was frustrating, to say the least. And now here they were, picking through the forest not far from the wreckage of Hometree.

“What are we doing out here,” Spence huffed. She stared at the remains of something that might have once been a dry rack for fish, long since abandoned. “There’s nothing left.”

“Ardmore’s boy Dorman has a theory about it. Like a criminal returning to the scene of the crime,” Quaritch responded over comms.

Spider kicked a rock when his voice came across the comms. “This is your crime scene,” he mumbled.

She turned to look at the kid. He didn’t consider any of them good options for his chaperone when he was dragged out on missions with them, but he thought Spence was the nicest to be around. At least she didn’t want to kill the man who raised him on sight.

Gunshots.

A yelp of pain .

Spence raised her rifle and surveyed their surroundings, checking if anyone or anything hostile was approaching from the depths of the forest.

When it remained quiet, she pushed down on her throat comm, “Check in.”

“I’m fine, it sounded like it was to the west,” Ja replied first.

“Same here,” and “All good,” came in from Mansk and Z-dog. Quaritch, Prager, and Lopez responded as soon as they deemed the coast was clear.

One person hadn’t answered yet. 

“Lyle?” Spence ushered Spider to move toward his location, making sure he stayed low. “ Wainfleet! ”

“Sorry, was pissing,” he finally said. “Some of those freaky as hell dogs jumped me. I shot ‘em.”

Spence and Spider burst out of the underbrush into a small clearing just as the static of his feed cut out. He turned, a few meters ahead of them, and gave a smug, toothy grin. “Were you that worried?”

She doubled over to catch her breath. “Oh, thank god. You asshole.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” Spider shoved Lyle out of his way and ran across the clearing to the three viperwolves he had shot. One was whimpering, slowly bleeding out without an ounce of mercy from its killer. Spider drew his dagger and drove it into its spiracle, killing it as quickly as possible. They heard him whisper the words “oeru txoa livu, ma oeyä tsmukan. Hu nawma sa'nok tivul ngeyä tirea.”

Lyle tilted his head, “The hell is he sayin’?”

“Shut up,” Spence bit back. She understood enough of it to recognize it as the prayer Na’vi hunters said over their prey. It was an apology for the death.

She walked over to Spider and crouched in front of him. “Are you okay?” she asked when he finished.

He stood, wiping the blood from his knife before sheathing it. “This isn’t about me. It’s about him ,” he jabbed a finger at Lyle, “being a fucking-”

A rustle in the bushes stopped him in his tracks. Spence heard it too and reached for her gun, but he pushed the barrel down. Slowly approaching the ferns at the edge of the clearing, he could just barely see the outline of a small animal hiding, whining in distress.

“Hey…” he cooed and lowered himself to the ground, slowly reaching a hand toward it. 

As soon as he lifted the leaves above its head, the creature bolted out of the underbrush. The moment it saw the corpses littering the ground, it tripped and tumbled over itself, before changing course and running in another direction. Without thinking about Spence lunged forward and caught it, staining her pants in the blood that had seeped into the grass.

With nowhere else to turn, it crawled into Spence’s jacket. Only then did it settle down. She carefully pulled open her jacket to get a look at it. It curled against her side in a way that required her to hold it up, making using her weapon impossible. It was just a puppy, a tiny and harmless version of the three that lay lifeless on the ground.

Spider came over to see, eyes widening when he saw it. “It’ll die if we leave it out here.”

Lyle finally got curious enough to come take a look. “Oh, shit! They aren’t as ugly when they’re babies, it’s almost cute.”

“It’s okay,” Spence said. “I’ll think of something.”

Spider punched Lyle in the dick as the other recoms began to emerge from the trees behind them. Spence quickly zipped her jacket shut and stood, throwing Lyle a look that begged him not to say anything; Spider picked up on her thoughts immediately. She had to keep her arm tucked against her side so the viperwolf pup wouldn’t fall out.

Quaritch noticed the way she let her gun dangle from her shoulder and the arm pressed against her body, “All good, Spence?”

“Huh?” She looked down at her arm before catching his meaning. She crossed the other arm over to hold it up, selling the illusion and providing more support for the puppy, who shifted in response. “Oh yeah, it’s fine. I just tripped on one of these dead ones and landed on my arm,” she nudged the nearest viperwolf carcass with her foot for added effect. The blood staining her cammies certainly helped.

He nodded, “Ja, check her out. See the doc when we get back. Ain’t shit here anyway, we can call it early.”

Ja stepped forward and gently took the arm she’d pretended to hurt, not noticing she still kept the other one in that same spot. “Does it hurt when I do this?” His fingers carefully prodded around the area, trying to deduce where she’d fractured it and how serious it was.

“No, no, I’ll be fine! It’s probably just bruised.”

“If you’re sure… Just make sure Castello looks at it.”

Spence gave him as best of pained smile as she could feign and nodded, glancing at Spider from the corner of her eye. He almost looked… approving. No, surely not. But she could at least recognize the same relief on his face that she felt.

You float in blackness. A deep, empty void with nothing and no one. The last thing you remember is preparing for war, your nerves buzzing with adrenaline for the battle to come. There is none of that now, only a strange, charged feeling; you don’t know the word for it. ‘Cold’ isn’t quite right.

Then there is a pressure, like hands pressing down on your limbs. But wait, that’s not right, you don’t have a body. You can’t even look at your hands in this space, you are merely a consciousness. But then there are sounds . They echo in the void, and you can’t tell if they come from within or without. Something sharp from close by. Close? Measures of distance have no meaning here. The sound comes again, this time twice, and you feel a twitch in response. You realize it’s your ear – you do have a body after all. The pressure increases, like hands squeezing, pushing you down against the cold, hard surface beneath you. You hadn’t felt that before. Your eyes hurt, what is that? Light? It penetrates your eyelids, burning them, and you feel a tightness in where your face must be as you recoil from it.

One voice emerges from the din, “Come on, Colonel. Wake up.”

Your eyes felt as if they were stuck together, like you’d been sleeping for years. You finally peel them open. Multiple alien faces stare back at you, their hands holding you down.

You thrash against them, but there are too many, they keep you down. I will not be a prisoner , you think, these blues won’t get anything from me .

You look around. You’re in some kind of medical room – clearly a human facility taken by the enemy – and there are no weapons within reach. The Na’vi pinning you to the table are speaking English, you realize, and trying to get you to listen.

“Colonel!” The same voice that stood out before. A hand grasps your chin and turns your head, forcing you to look into the face of a Na’vi wearing glasses. It looks… familiar. “Look at me, Ripper. Calm down.”

You stop thrashing as you hear that name. That’s you. Right, Ripper, of course. You are Colonel Rhea “Ripper” Gauthier, but everyone calls you Colonel Ripper. A nickname you earned, and rightfully so.

Ripper hadn’t realized how fast she had been breathing, chest heaving against the thing hospital gown she wore. She barely took a glance at her own body and instead squinted at the bespectacled Na’vi in front of her. He had five fingers, not four; they all did. Then it dawned on her.

“Kaden?” Her voice rasped slightly from lack of use.

He nodded, smiling slightly. “Good morning, Colonel.”

Her eyes cast about the others standing over her, gradually recognizing each face despite the blueness of them; Zoe, Ylona, and three identical faces for each of her triplets. “Alright, let go of me.”

They all released Ripper immediately and she sat up slowly, catching her appearance in the mirror at the end of the room. She first noticed – after the blue skin, of course – that she looked younger, the gray streaks in her hair and lines of her face now missing. Then she noticed the large scar that ran under her eye was missing; getting that had nearly blinded her.

Project Phoenix was a go, it seemed.

“ Merde ,” she spoke to her reflection.

Spence’s “injury” was not severe enough that any medics were waiting on the tarmac when the recoms returned to Bridgehead. Ja and Prager both offered to walk her to the infirmary, but she insisted she was fine. “Spider’s going to see Zu’ap anyway,” she said, “I’m in good hands.”

Whether they thought it was a poor excuse or not, they accepted it. Why would she lie? They love her, and she loves them in kind.

Wandering around the SciOps avatar facilities, they finally found Dr. Castello and Zu’ap in the botany lab. The latter was leaning against the former’s back, chin nestled into his shoulder, watching him slice some sort of vine into thin slices. Spider cleared his throat, making Castello jump and nearly cut himself. Zu’ap quickly backed away, warmth fanning across his cheeks as he realized how awkward the situation had become. 

Spider snickered and made the ‘ I See You ’ motion to him before turning to Castello and saying, “We need help.”

Castello put away his knife and walked his samples to a small fridge. “With what?” The annoyance in his face melted away when he saw Spence's arm tucked against her side, "Are you alright?"

“Uhhh…” Spider turned and motioned to Spence’s jacket, which she still held closed.

The viperwolf pup jumped and tried to leap out of her arms the moment she opened her jacket. She held it out carefully, the thing’s weird little clawed hands nearly ripping up her sleeves as it squirmed.

They were both shocked, to say the least. Castello would have dropped his tray had he not already set it down. “Where- why- how?? ” He was at a loss for words.

“Wainfleet killed its parents,” Spence answered. “I think we managed to sneak him onto base without the others noticing. Or if they did, no one said anything. Not even Quaritch.”

Spider crossed his arms and went to stand closer to Zu’ap so he could translate. Zu’ap’s brows, or lack thereof, furrowed when he heard what happened.

Castello pinched the bride of his nose, “Of course , it was Wainfleet. Ugh.” He looked up at the pup again, “What will you do with it?”

She cringed, “Fuck, I haven’t thought that far ahead, I barely even thought when I grabbed it.”

“ What if we kept it? ” Spider asked in Na’vi.

“That’s…” Castello looked between the boy and the soldier, “ maybe not a good idea .”

“ I won’t be able to get it out of the city any time soon, I’ll need to wait until my next day of ikran …” she paused to switch languages, “how would you say ‘ikran training?’ But that isn’t for a few more days.”

Spider translated for Zu’ap before looking over to Castello with the same expression a kid on Earth would reserve for the mall Santa.

The doctor sighed, “I can set aside a room for it, but feeding it will be more of a problem. You will be liable for whatever property it damages, by the way.”

Spence nodded, “What does he eat?”

“He?” Castello asked as he turned on a computer to find the database entry for viperwolves.

“Just a feeling,” she set him down on the floor and held him still until he stopped trying to run away. Once he calmed down, he began nervously roaming around the room. “I keep wanting to give him a name, like he’s a real dog.”

The report finally loaded and he beckoned er and Spider over, “Well, you certainly can’t domesticate a viperwolf. I’m not even sure they can be trained.” He pointed to the report, “but there are notes about diet, behavior, and care. The author was interested in possible cooperation with fauna for research.”

Spence’s eyes dragged across the photo of a mother with her pups before landing on the author’s name. Dr. Noah Siazon . Her jaw dropped, but she recovered before the other two noticed. She continued reading.

Carnivorous, mostly nocturnal, moved in packs. Just like a wolf. “I can sneak some meat over tonight, but I doubt we’ll have any tomorrow.”

“I will too,” Spider shrugged, “RDA rations are dry as hell.”

She turned to look for the pup to bring it to the room Castello mentioned, but he was nowhere to be seen. Shit, shit, shit , she thought as her tail flicked nervously behind her as she rounded the workbench.

“Is okay,” Zu’ap said in broken English, “I have.” He was crouching and rubbing the chin of the viperwolf.

Castello breathed out in relief to see that it wasn’t missing or chewing on anything expensive. He moved to the exit, motioning for everyone to follow, “ You can carry him, ma’eylan .”

Spence’s eyes widened, “You taught him English so quickly?”

He shrugged, “Zu’ap is a fast learner. And he should know at least some if he’s forced to stay here.”

He popped over to the medbay before coming back with an armful of bedding and leading them to an empty greenhouse– he figured the climatized room would be more comfortable than air-conditioning for a viperwolf.

After leaving the building, Spider asked “What was it, by the way?”

“What was what?” Spence tilted her head.

“The name you wanted to call him.”

She smiled, “Ronan.” After my brother.

Entering the barracks, the vibe immediately felt… off, somehow. Spence couldn’t quite place it. Even just from the entryway, it felt weird. Spider didn’t seem to notice, though, so she followed him into the common room. As soon as they set foot inside, it was immediately apparent what was different.

Seven new faces. New, blue faces.

Ja stood from where he sat very awkwardly and hurried over to her, relief washing over his face. “Phoebe, hey. How’s your arm?”

“Fine…” she slowly dragged her eyes away from the new arrivals, “it was nothing. What’s going on?”

“Well-”

She turned as the door behind them opened. Spider made himself scarce as Quaritch entered, trudging in from what was likely another argument with the General.

“Oh, hell,” he grumbled.

One of the strangers approached. Spence thought she looked familiar, but not anyone she was close to, “You’re uglier than I remember, Quaritch.” There was a French lilt to her words.

“Ripper,” He crossed his arms and looked stern, “Still a mean old bitch, I see.”

“If I wanted compliments from the devil, I would have stayed dead.”

They stare each other down, an aura of menace radiating off of them, before Quaritch extends his hand. Ripper smirks and takes it. Her grip looked bone-crushing.

Ohhh, shit , Spence thinks.

Ripper returned to what she was doing, making sure to throw a stern glare at Ja as she went. Quaritch leaves as well, leaving Ja and Spence in the doorway.

Before Spence could question what that look from her was about, another woman, this time with a thick Scottish accent, approached them. “Did I hear that right? That you, Phoebe?”

Now that was a face Spence would recognize anywhere. People always said they looked similar – long red curls, blue eyes, a scattering freckles – but she’d always found Lance Corporal Amari Frasier prettier than herself. That went for the entire set of triplets, Arcel and Alexis were reflections of their sister in other genders; turning blue didn’t change that fact, either.

She ran over to Spence, pushing Ja out of the way as she did so, and pulled her into her arms. Had Spence been as new as her, she likely would have tumbled backward from the impact.

“Holy shit,” she squeezed her back, “I missed you so bad.”

Amari kissed her on the cheek. “Tell me everythin ,’ I want to know what I missed.”

Spence winced, “Don’t be mad.”

Pulling away from the embrace, Amari tilted her head, “Why would I be mad?” She pushed away a few curls that had fallen into her face.

“Ja and I are…”

“Oh, my God, finally ,” she turned to Ja, some of the joy leaving her face. “Took you long enough.”

“Y-yeah…” He shied away, deciding he was better off somewhere else.

Spence covered her mouth, trying to stifle a giggle. “He told me what actually happened between you too.”

“Girl…” Amari narrowed her eyes, “Don’t laugh, it’s definitely happened to you too.” She took Spence’s hand and dragged her into the common room so they could sit and talk properly.

Knowing it was Ripper Squad, Spence could easily put names to faces. Captain Ylona Baxter, who she’d never talked to much at all, was being yapped at by Lopez. Staff Sergeant Kaden Gutierrez, their medic, roped Ja into gossip as soon as he came near; well at least I’m not the only short recom anymore . The only person other than Amari that Spence was close to on their team was Lieutenant Zoe Stevens, who came over to their table as soon as they sat down, dragging Z-dog along with her. And then Arcel and Alexis, of course, the former of whom was by himself because he didn’t like most people, and the latter was talking to Prager.

“Do you know when your first mission is? Or where?” Spence asked.

Zoe tapped her chin, trying to remember if it had been mentioned, “Not really. I just know they’re waiting longer than they did with you, since that was such a-”

Amari kicked her under the table, “We’re just bein’ safe! It means we get to spend more time with you, anyways.”

Chapter Text

Breakfast was far more chaotic with fifteen people than it ever was with twelve, let alone the eight people they’d been with for months. Ripper Squad was in the empty rooms down the hall where there was another bathroom, so at least it was still possible to shower in the morning within a reasonable time period. And, even worse, the frequency with which Mansk would be able to cook had just decreased significantly now that there were so many people. Not that he could do much with rations from the commissary anyway. Powdered eggs and freeze-dried bacon were an upgrade from the dry, grey slop they ate on their first night, though.

Spence tried to be as discreet as possible in wrapping the bacon in a napkin to stuff into her pocket, but unfortunately for her, Prager was sitting directly to her right.

He leaned forward just as her hand left her coat pocket, “Did you just put your breakfast in your pocket?”

“Uhh, yeah,” she tried to come up with an excuse. “Z and I have diving later, and swimming burns a lot of energy.”

“You can’t go to the commissary?”

She winced, “That custom wetsuit I got made was expensive .” That wasn’t a lie– she’s pretty sure the guy in charge of clothing printing orders up-charged her, but then again she was nearly twice the size of a normal person.

He bumped his knee with hers, “I can spot you, if you nee-”

“No need,” she cut him off. “It’s fine. Um, speaking of diving, I think I’m gonna head over early.” 

Lyle, who was sitting at the other table behind her, quirked a brow as she got up to leave.  

Spider might be forced to live in the recom barracks, but he almost never took meals with them; mostly because he couldn’t , the mask sort of got in the way. He found the scientists to be better company anyway. Except for the ones responsible for trying to torture everything he knew out of his brain. Fuck those guys.

Most of the scientists quite liked him, as well as Zu’ap. Even if General Ardmore wasn’t so strict about allowing science sorties, almost every Na’vi in the region refused to interact with “Sky People,” so almost none of them had met anyone who had actually lived in the world and culture of Pandora.

Zu’ap couldn’t handle so much attention after a life of isolation, and felt exhausted and overstimulated after most meals with SciOps. He hated that he could never be alone. These cold walls and artificial lights made him feel trapped, and the constant need to be watched by someone only aggravated the feeling. He didn’t understand why Castello would have to go away sometimes, either. All he knew was that his friend had two bodies, but Spider didn’t for some reason, and that sometimes he would have to leave to take care of the other one or to switch. When that happened, someone else kept an eye on him; right now, that was Spider.

“ Can I ask you something? ”

Zu’ap’s ears perked up and he tilted his head.

“ Your people… ” Spider leaned against a table and looked up at him, “ what were they like?”

The Na’vi smiled, “ You would like them. After I was lost, I made my home in a place similar to the village where I grew up. But the others are different.”

“How so?”

“Jude asked the same!” He crouched down to eye-level with Spider, his thick tail wagging behind him, “Mine is called Tsrutuyì, and it is quiet. But very loud! If you listen to the forest, you can hear its creatures make music, so the people stay quiet to hear it.” He dragged his hands across the table in front of them to mimic emerging from a forest. “Txanatxayo’kelku is very bright. If you want to visit Utral Aypizayu, you must go through Txanatxayo’kelku and up the river to Tsrayram”

Spider looked at him, completely rapt. “What was Tsrayram like?”

“I…” Zu’ap frowned, “I forget. I did not visit it often, and I have been away for many seasons. But I can remember the mountains… singing. Everywhere I went, the mountains sang to me.”

“Wow.”

“ Yes , ‘wow.’”

“ Sorry I took so long, ” the glass door slid open and Castello entered with Spence in tow, “I ran into Spence.”

Zu’ap’s smile returned immediately and he bounded over to the two before pausing, “ What is that smell?” He looked at Spence.

She pulled the wrapped food from her pocket, “ For the viperwolf.”

“Come on,” Castello said to her, “ You feed him this time.”

“I am so sorry I couldn’t come last night. There’s a new squad now, and-”

“Oh, I know.” He walked out the door they’d entered through and trusted the rest to follow. “Ja and the other medic are coming by later. I didn’t come to Pandora to become a teacher and dogsitter… but here we are.”

Ronan – Spence couldn’t help that the name stuck in her head – was curled up in the empty growbox of an unused greenhouse for Pandoran flora. He looked like a normal, peaceful puppy when he slept like this. Castello and Spider stayed in the hallway, but Zu’ap  followed Spence in, and she closed the door behind them.

His sleeping form stirred when he smelled them. Looking up at them, he hissed, before he noticed the third smell. It almost smelled like food. Spence unwrapped the three pathetic slices of bacon – if you could call it that – and set them on the ground between them. Ronan hesitantly approached and sniffed at them. He almost rejected it, but he was hungry. He wolfed down the food.

Zu’ap watched him curiously. Most viperwolves he’d encountered attacked him on sight; he was a prime target, alone and afraid, and a pack could have killed him easily. But this one was alone too, and even more defenseless than he.

Ronan looked at him and made a sound almost like a cat’s purr. He held his hand out in response, carefully, trying not to scare him off, and the pup approached him just as carefully. He sniffed his hand first, and even Spence could see that Ronan knew just from his smell that he wasn’t from this place of cold steel and glass, even though he’d been here for weeks. He brushed his hand with his snout, and Zu’ap responded by running his fingers across the chitinous armor of his neck.

“How did you-” she stopped herself when she realized she was speaking the wrong language. “How did you get him to let you near him?”

“Like this,” Zu’ap grabbed her wrist, not bothering to ask if he was allowed to, and turned her hand so the backs of her fingers faced Ronan. 

Ronan’s eyes narrowed, and he almost backed away. But he was smart, all viperwolves were, and he knew that she wouldn’t feed him if she meant him harm.

A knock against the glass wall startled him, and he ran to the corner.

Zu’ap and Spence turned, annoyed, to find who knocked.

“Lyle, what the fuck?” Spence asked when she saw his stupid bald head in the hallway.

He pointed to his ear and shook his head.

She pushed out into the hallway, Zu’ap following behind, and punched Lyle in the arm and repeated herself, “What the fuck?”

“You’re ‘what the fuck’ing me ? I should be asking you the same thing, Phoebs, you smuggled that thing in here,” he pointed with disgust to Ronan. “What if it’s got rabies?”

“The rabies virus doesn’t exist on Pandora,” Castello said sheepishly from the side.

“Stay outta this, Doc.”

“Hey,” Spider shoved Lyle as best he could, “Don’t talk to him like that!”

Lyle laughed, “Or what, kid? Gonna cry to daddy?”

“He’s not my dad, asshole.”

“Lyle if you don’t shut the fuck up for a second, I will punch you,” Spence grabbed his shoulder to put his attention back on her. “Why are you here?”

“To find out why you kept that thing. I could’ve told the Colonel, or even worse, the General,” he said, but he didn’t look completely serious about it.

She snorted, “But you haven’t. And you won’t .”

“Oooohhh,” he giggled, “Threatening me now, Phoebe? That’s a new color on you.”

“It could be a bribe, if you’re lucky,” she regretted it as soon as she said it.

He grinned in response, wide and toothy.

“Okay, okay. Can we calm down, please?” Castello wanted to defuse the situation as quickly as possible. “Lieutenant, be honest. If you were going to report either one of us for this, you would have already.”

Lyle crosses his arms and stares him down, as he’s considerably taller than the doctor. “And how do you know that? We’ve hardly met.”

Castello looked up at him, hardening his gaze. “Because you’re simple, like every soldier. A case I cracked on day one.”

A few tense seconds passed before Lyle started laughing. It only made Spider’s scowl deepen, but to Spence it was a relief.

“Okay, I like you Doc. We’re cool.”

Spence pushed her bangs out of her eyes, “So you’ll stay quiet?”

“I’m not helping you with this,” he turned to her, “but I won’t say anythin’ neither.”

“That works for me.”

“Did you actually need anything, Lieutenant?” Castello chimed back in.

“Nope. Cya,” Lyle put his hands in his pockets and walked down the hall, hips swaying in that annoying swagger he always had.

Spider flipped him off behind his back. “Does he know that’s the wrong way?”

“Probably not,” Spence replied. “He’ll figure it out.”

Around the corner, in the opposite direction, Sergeant Gutierrez leaned against the wall. He’d heard nearly everything. The corner of his lips pulled back in a smirk. He was supposed to meet with Castello soon, but that could wait. He was going to have a lovely conversation with General Ardmore instead.

It was early summer as far as Prager could tell. He’d never had a good sense of the seasons of Pandora, but it was always hot. Hell’s Gate was in the middle of a tropical rainforest, and sweating behind the exopack’s mask was one of the worst parts about being deployed here; right behind getting shot at by the natives. He wasn’t built for it back then, but the Na’vi clearly were, so it was more tolerable in this body. That didn’t stop him from sweating through the tank top he wore, though.

He’d been saddled with mucking the ikran rookery for the week, and the sun beating down on the roof was downright merciless. Most of the banshees actually preferred sitting outside in the shade rather than inside the gutted warehouse where the metal roof and walls only seemed to magnify the heat. But most of the shit was inside , so here he was.

“Is it always this hot in here?” Alexis asked in French. He had tagged along, but now seemed to regret it as tugged at his collar.

The Scottish accent mixed with the Parisian dialect was a bit difficult for Prager to understand, but he was relieved to be able to have a conversation in his native language for once. “It’s been getting warmer. It’s cooler in the forest, though.”

“And you… ride these things?” He gestured to Prager’s banshee, who was one of only two that remained inside.

“ Yeah. That’s Atlas, don’t-” As he spoke, Atlas snapped at Alexis, who narrowly dodged the bite, “... don’t look him in the eye. He’s meaner than the rest.”

Alexis stepped back and looked over him, careful to avoid eye contact. “ What’s it like? Riding him.”

“It’s…” he paused his work and leaned on the shovel. “ I can’t accurately describe it. I can see what he sees, feel what he feels. And we’re flying, too. It’s a lot.”

“Damn, okay.”

“When are you getting yours?”

“Uhhh, tomorrow? I think?”

Prager raised his brows “ So soon? I thought the General was slowing you guys down.”

“Don’t tell anyone I told you this, but…” Alexis glanced at the entrance, “she doesn’t have a lot of faith in Quaritch right now. I don’t know the details, though”

Frowning, Prager propped the shovel against the wall and went to grab the feed. The ikrans had clearance to come and go from Bridgehead as they pleased so they could hunt on their own, but a few of them had gotten lazy enough and seemed to like the pellets that the zoologists had cooked up for them. Prager thought it looked like sawdust, though. “ Do you know your mission yet, then?”

Alexis leaned against a pillar, his curls falling into his eyes. “ Expansion, clearin’ villages, capturin’ and interrogatin’ persons of interest. That sorta thing. I feel like it’ll mostly be guardin’ construction workers, though.”

“We get sent on a wild goose chase, and you get the easy job.”

He smirked,  “ Yup.”

Prager threw down the large sack of feed and slit open the top, “ Are you going to help me with this?”

“Nuh uh, ” Alexis grinned cheekily and backed up, intending to get away before Prager could chase after him, “Not my circus, not my banshees.”

For reasons Spence couldn’t guess, Spider decided to walk with her to the spot of beach where she and Z-dog typically met for diving. She went back to the barracks first to change into the sleek, black wetsuit and wide tail attachment for ease in swimming, and Spider was sitting in the common room when she emerged. They talked about Ronan for a few minutes as they walked, but then the conversation died out. It was awkward, to say the least.

“What will you do,” Spider suddenly asked as they reached the edge of the sands, “when you find Jake? You won’t kill him, will you?”

“I…” Spence hadn’t expected the question. It had been so long since the ambush that she hadn’t even thought about it properly. “I don’t want to. I was ready to leave with him, once. Turn my back on all this,” she waved her hand at the city around them, “but even if I dropped everything right now and ran to the Resistance, they would never take me. Look at me. His wife called me a demon, I think that says enough.”

“Her name is Neytiri,” he said. “What changed your mind?”

“I’m surprised you give a shit. You hate the others.”

Spider snorted, “You’re better than them, even if only a little.”

She laughed a little, but it sounded hollow. “I wish this was black and white, Spider.”

“Isn’t it? Sky People want to take over Pandora, and you literally kill people for a living!” With each word he said, the amiability left his voice little by little.

“I haven’t killed anyone yet. Not in this life. But the version of me that Jake knew…” Spence shook her head and sighed, “I’m not her. I just can’t.”

He stopped walking, voice completely cold. “You’re just making excuses. Did they forget to upload your morals, or are you just another fucking Miles Quaritch?”

“I-”

Spider didn’t wait for a response. By the time she turned to try and refute his claim, he’d already walked off. Just when I thought he could trust me…

When they emerged from the sea, exhausted from long hours of swimming for most of the day, Gutierrez was waiting for them on the beach. He gave Spence a grin that reminded her of a fox sneaking into a chicken coop.

“The General wants to see you, Corporal.”

Spence’s eyebrows shot up, “Now? I’m soaking w-”

“No time, you should go now. She seemed quite displeased,” his voice dripped with feigned concern.

“Shit. Okay, thanks for telling me.”

“Of course! I’ll walk there with you.”

Quaritch was already in the control room when they arrived. Ardmore stood with her back to them, illuminated by the glow of a holoprojection. Even though she was much smaller than them, her body obscured what exactly she was looking at from the entrance.

Spence cleared her throat, “You wanted to see me, General?”

“Corporal,” Ardmore spoke, “would you care to explain this?” She turned and stepped aside, revealing security camera footage of the room Ronan was being kept in. He was pacing back and forth near the door.

Quaritch crossed his arms. He wanted to hear this, too.

“Sir, I…” she struggled to come up with an excuse. There really wasn’t a good one that she could give. “I don’t have an explanation that you’ll accept, sir.”

She hummed. “Bring him in.”

A human soldier entered through a seperate door, dragging Dr. Castello along with a firm grip on his arm. His face was twisted in pain until the soldier shoved him forward.

“Tell the room what you told me, Doctor.”

Despite being much taller than her in his human body, Castello appeared small in Ardmore’s commanding presence. “Corporal Spence smuggled a viperwolf into base, a-and asked me for help with it.”

Ardmore stepped between him and Spence, “And she’s been treating this wild, extremely dangerous animal like a pet , correct?”

He gave Spence an apologetic look before responding, “More   or less, yes.”

She turned to Quaritch, “What’s your take, Colonel? She’s your subordinate, after all.”

He sighed and rubbed his chin, watching the live feed of Ronan. He’d quit pacing and started chasing his tail. “I have an idea, but I doubt you’ll approve, sir.”

“Shoot.”

He pointed to the projection, “It acts like a dog, so should be able to be trained like a dog. We could use it to find Jake.”

“An interesting thought. It is young, after all. Malleable. Can it be done?” This last question was directed at Castello.

“I-I don’t know. It’s never been done before, and I’m not a zoologist. Maybe if someone bonded with it, but there’s no telling what that will do,” he spoke hesitantly, like he feared what Ardmore may do with the information.

Spence chimed in, “You can’t seriously-”

“Do not speak out of turn, Corporal.” Ardmore’s tone was stern and ice-cold. “You’ve insubordinated enough as is.”

“Y-yes, sir.”

“Sir, if I may?” Gutierrez spoke. When she nodded, he continued, “If Corporal Spence insists on having this… animal , she should be the one to train it. Under supervision, of course, but Dr. Castello’s point about the bond could prove to be true. They bonded with the banshees just fine.”

Spence bit her lip to fight back the urge to question him. He’d always been nice to her, but this idea seemed more like something Arcel would’ve come up with. 

Ardmore’s lips pulled back in a cruel smile, predatory and devoid of joy. “I like your style, Sergeant. Colonel?”

Quaritch nodded, a bit of smugness in his face. “Look at that thing, it’s nothin’ compared to the animals that scarred up my old face. I say let her keep it. We’ll tie it up next to the banshees.”

She seemed satisfied and turned back to Spence, “You should see this as a gift, Corporal. I can take away this dog at any time if you break the rules again. Is that clear?”

“Y-yes, sir,” She nodded and took a breath of CO2. “Thank you.”

The General motioned for everyone to leave. Gutierrez, satisfied with the result, disappeared out the door first before Spence could see the haughty look on his face. The whole thing was over so quickly that her hair was still dripping wet.

“I cannot fuckin’ believe you snuck that thing in here,” Quaritch muttered as they left the airlock to walk home.

Spence shrank into herself. She could be more vulnerable when she was alone with Quaritch, but that wasn’t always a good thing. “It would’ve died if we left it there. Lyle killed its pack.”

“ We?”

She bit her lip, Shit . “Spider may have been… involved. And helping me along with Dr. Castello.”

“That damn kid…” Quaritch hissed, “Grows up around those blue monkeys, now he thinks he’s one of ‘em.”

“Don’t talk about him like that,” Spence bit back. “If you want him to think of you as his father, Miles, you should start treating him like a son .”

She walked off, but Quaritch stopped in his tracks. He didn’t say anything, there was nothing he could say. It wasn’t often he admitted he was wrong, and he wasn’t about to say that out loud, but she was right. Still, he was at war with himself. “I’m not that man,” he’d said. And he believed it, he still did. But some little piece of him, whether it be himself now or the archived memories of a man long dead, that piece wanted what the Old Miles had. A woman to love, a son to raise. One of those things was long gone, but the other was still within reach. It was possible.

Knock, knock .

The sound startled him. Prager had collapsed into bed after the gruelling hours spent on chores and in the gym, and was just about to pass out when it came. He thought about ignoring it and pretending to be asleep. It was most likely Spence, though, and he didn’t want to ignore her. He hauled himself out of bed and gave his shirt a quick sniff test – it wasn’t good – before peeling it off and answering the door.

“Oh, it’s you,” He tried not to sound so surprised.

Ja grinned, “It’s me.” The smile faltered a bit, his tone becoming a bit more serious, “Listen, can we talk?”

Prager pushed his door a bit wider for him, “This isn’t going to be a dreadful talk, is it?”

“No,” he answered quickly without thinking about it before walking it back. “Well, I guess that depends on what you say.” The end of his tail curled up before dropping down again, over and over. Up, down, up, down. He didn’t realize it, but the movement was in time with his own heartbeat.

A hum left Prager’s throat as he watched his tail. He buried his hands in the pockets of his shorts and leaned against the wall, “I’ve never seen you so nervous, what do you need to tell me?”

“I know you said you don’t want anything more. Not with me, anyway.” Ja closed the distance between them, “But I do.”

“Alexander…” 

He plants his hand against the wall, effectively trapping Prager between him and the bedframe. “I want both of you. If that makes me greedy, then so be it.” There was such an earnestness in his ochre eyes that Prager struggled to look away from; they pulled him in.

The taller man’s heart began to race, “Alex, I-”

“If you say no, that you don’t want this, I’ll back off. We never have to talk about it again.” Ja’s voice dropped and he backed off, “It won’t affect our relationship if you do. We’ll be fine.”

Prager’s hand shot out reflexively and grabbed Ja’s. He hadn’t thought of anything to say; he couldn’t think. He opened and shut his mouth a few times before finally sputtering out some words, “I-I’ve been doing some thinking.”

Ja stayed quiet. Under normal circumstances, he would’ve joked about how he was impressed he’d been thinking at all, but this wasn’t normal. His eyes flicked down to the hand squeezing his before traveling back up to Prager’s eyes, dragging over his bare chest as they went.

“We could… try it.” He gulped, “Casually, at first.” 

A breath that Ja didn’t even know he was holding escaped. He bit his lip, trying to suppress the giddy laughter that he could feel bubbling to the surface. “You call the shots, then.”

Prager dragged him closer with the hand he still held, so close that he was hardly a breath away. Their fingers now intertwined, Ja pinned them against the wall, negating what little distance remained between their bodies and pressing against him.

Ja looked down and smirked, snaking his other hand up his bare chest before cupping his jaw. “Excited?”

His cheeks warmed, and he could feel his tail brushing up against Ja's, “Shut up,” he let himself be pulled down into a kiss.

It’s chaste at first, like an awkward middle school kiss. He has no idea what to do with his free hand at first, but as the kiss deepens, it finds its way to the back of Ja’s head; normally Prager would intertwine his fingers with his hair, but seeing as he has none, he found himself cupping the base of his queue instead.

Ja made a noise – not quite a growl, but not quite a purr – before releasing Prager’s hand and grasping his waist, pulling his hips into his. Their eyes were closed and other senses far too preoccupied to hear the door open.

“Hey, Jamie, can you help me with… woah…”

Prager reflexively wrenched Ja away from his mouth, eliciting a gasp of pain from where he still gripped his queue. A thin trail of saliva connected them. Parts of it caught the light from the hallway where there wasn’t a silhouette blocking it.

“Phoebe!” Prager gasped, “We, uh-”

Ja reached back and pulled Prager’s fingers away from where they still held the base of his braid. “I was gonna tell you after.”

Spence giggled quietly, “Relax. I have time,” she walked past them and dropped onto Prager’s bed. A sly smirk played at the corner of her mouth as she looked up at them through her eyelashes. “Carry on.”

Prager flushed so hard that his blue skin nearly turned an entirely new shade of indigo. 

Ja snorted, thinking of something to tease one or both of them with, before noticing the dark form that Spence held. “Okay, what the fuck is that thing?”

In her arms lay Ronan, now equipped with an army green collar, curled up into a ball. He only roused when she lifted him up, yawning in their direction. “Spider and I found him. We were trying to keep him a secret until I could sneak him out of the city, but then Ardmore found out…” He began wriggling around so she set him down on the bed where he immediately began chewing on the pillow. “So now she’s lowkey forcing me to train him… which I have no fucking clue how to do.”

“Wh- Hey! That’s my pillow,” Prager swatted at him. He hissed in response, snapping at his hand just after he snatched it away. “Tabarnak, Phoebe, why did you think this was a good idea?”

“Being turned into a lab rat to see whether or not bonding with a viperwolf would destroy my brain wasn’t exactly my idea.”

Ja’s focus snapped back to her, “You’re seriously going through with that?”

“General’s orders,” Spence made her lips into a thin line to mimic her. “Anyway, can you come outside with me? I don’t know how much she knows about… this ,”  she motioned between the three of them, “but I was able to convince her to let you guys be there since she’s requiring this to happen under supervision. And I trust you, so Miles trusts you, so he backed me up on that one.”

“Of course, but…” Prager eyed Ronan, who stared back. “Don’t let him bite me again.”

“I’ll bring the medkit, you just bring your fine ass,” Ja clapped him on the shoulder with a smirk before slipping into the hall.

Spider was standing at the edge of the track behind the barracks, watching a few of the ikrans. They’d gotten more confident about living in Bridgehead and, when they weren’t shitting all over the gunships or chewing on the occasional satellite dish, liked to congregate on the field. One of them was rolling around in the mud left over from the rains a few days prior.

“Isn’t that one yours?” Prager asked as he saw a flash of the ikran’s pink hide under the mud.

Spence squinted at it before sighing. “Goddammit, Cupid. Hold him,” she thrust Ronan into his arms before jogging off to scold her ikran.

He held Ronan away from himself. He’d put on a shirt, but he still worried about how the little beast might want to claw up his chest; he was certainly trying to scratch his arms. While Spence’s ikran was teasing her by flying just above where she could reach him, he looked down to see Spider. The kid almost never acknowledged him, so this was new.

“What, are you scared he’ll bite you?” Spider said. From anyone else it would have sounded sarcastic, but from him it came off as an attack on Prager’s character. He definitely meant it that way.

There was a yelp in the distance and they both turned as Spence slipped and fell in the mud. Ronan took the distraction as an opportunity to bite Prager and leap out of his grasp, running off as soon as his hand-paw-things hit the ground.

Spider ran after him, but his human size couldn’t keep up. He shouted over his shoulder, “Don’t just stand there!”

“You heard him, James!” Ja exclaimed as he passed Prager, clearly excited to run. “We gotta get that dog!”

They all ran after him as he bobbed and weaved between them like this was just a game of chase. He ran between the ikrans, causing each of them to lift off like a startled flock of birds. He had less options once Spence was up, and made the mistake of veering in her direction to avoid Ja. Right into the mud.

He slipped and she leaped, determined to catch the little pup that she was now responsible for. “Gotcha!” she yelled just as her arms came down around him, and they both slid a few feet from the momentum.

She wiped the mud away from the spiracles on Ronan’s neck so he could catch his breath easily. 

“Little bastard,” Prager panted and doubled over to catch his breath. “Phoebe, you’re covered.”

Ja snorted, “Maybe we should add mud wrestling to the training schedule.” He nearly slipped in the mud himself.

“Hell no.”

Spence’s braid slipped over her shoulder as she sat up, maneuvering the viperwolf into her lap. Now only a few inches separated their queues, and she eyed them warily. It wasn’t life or death as with Cupid, but it was still daunting. The only other animal that an avatar had been documented bonding with was a direhorse, and that definitely was nothing like an ikran or a viperwolf. She vaguely remembered Jake regaling what that Na’vi woman he fell for had said: “ikran is not horse.” Well, ikran isn’t wolf, either.

“Are you sure about this?” Prager’s voice brought her back from spacing out.

She lifted her queue, “Not at all. If I go into a coma, you’ve got full permission to just kill me.”

“Not funny,” Ja said. He noticed a thin stream of blood dribbling down Prager’s fingers and took it carefully, opening up his medkit.

She shrugged. Ronan didn’t protest when she lifted his queue, so she went ahead and made the bond as gently as possible. That first time with Cupid, she’d seen images of flying; she thought she imagined it, anxious for the flying she was about to do herself, but now she knew they were memories .

It felt like watching a horror movie. One moment she saw Ronan’s perspective of running through the forest with his pack, and in the next Lyle was glowering from above, the dark shape of his rifle seemingly sucking up all the light around it after slaughtering his family. Prager, Ja, and Spider all watched her lifty a shaky hand to her mouth, but she barely felt it herself.

Hide.

Hide.

Hide.

She could feel the emotions through the memory. 

Run.

Run.

Run.

The moment Spider pushed aside the ferns he hid beneath, Ronan felt a surge of panic run through him. Lyle still stood there, but he had no choice but to run. Run past his family. Their blood stained his paws as he passed.

Then something, some one , grabbed him. They were warm. He couldn't think, just darted into her jacket at the first opportunity. Maybe hiding in here would spare his own life.

Warm.

Dark.

Safe.

Spence came to with a shuddering gasp. She hadn’t realized she was holding her breath, or that she’d closed her eyes. No longer stuck in a memory, she looked down at Ronan. He looked back at her. The recoms may not be able to notice it, but Spider had spent more than enough time among the Na’vi to see it; they were bonded. 

Ronan was still young enough that he could imprint on someone— on Spence. She carefully pulled their queues apart before lifting him out of her lap, and this time, he didn’t try to run. He sat patiently and watched her, and she noticed his pupils were wider. He gazed at her the same way the dog she’d had as a kid used to; the dog they’d adopted while her brother was alive, before he got sick.

Ja kneeled in the mud beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she finally looked up. “Yeah… It feels different. Castello was right.”

Prager eyed Ronan, who was now much calmer than before. “Do you need to be connected to him for him to do what you say?  That seems impractical.”

“Ikrans don’t need to listen to you either, stupid,” Spider chided. “They let you guide them because they respect you. That’s why tranquilizing them wouldn’t have worked.”

“Oh.”

Spence lifted her hand, palm up. “Shake.” It was the first thing she and her brother had taught their dog on Earth.

He tilted his head, confused.

“Cupid responds to English, though…”

“Atlas understands French,” Prager added.

Spider huffed in annoyance, “That’s because of the bond. Either you need to teach him what those words mean, or you need to use Na’vi.

“Oh. Uh…” she turns back to Ronan, trying to remember how to translate it into Na’vi. “Rìkxi.”

Spider shook his head. She knew that meant ‘shake,’ but clearly it wasn’t the right command.

She tried something else. “Tsyokx,” she said, gesturing between both of their hands. He seemed to get it that time, lifting his paw a bit but not placing it in hers. She grabbed it and shook. “Yeah, good boy! Tsyokx!”

“No way he knows what ‘good boy’ means,” Prager muttered.

Ja crossed his arms and looked down at them. “So since that worked, is Ardmore gonna make you do one of those rich people dog shows?”

Spider made a face, “A what?”

“Sometimes rich people would breed a dog to be really pretty and train it to do whatever they say, and then run in circles to show off to other rich people.”

Spence released Ronan’s hand and stood up, “They’d do it with horses too. And birds of prey, back before most of them died off.”

“The more I learn about life on Earth, the weirder it sounds,” Spider said with genuine disgust.

She shrugged and started back toward the barracks, trusting Ronan would follow. “Of course you’d think that, you grew up here . I mean, imagine how we feel. We should be dead.”

Spider almost said something that would make the three of them hate him, if they didn’t already. He swallowed the venom and spite. He had to stay on their good side; trust meant leniency, and leniency meant he may be able to escape.

And they were the only ones who knew anything about his mom.

Quaritch wasn’t happy about the amount of mud the five of them tracked into the barracks – even though Spence had stripped down to her underwear before going inside – but he was glad she’d managed to get the viperwolf under control. It seemed to like him for reasons he couldn’t fathom, but Spence noticed that he seemed to hold the same views of most of the recoms as she did, with few exceptions; mostly Lyle and, for some reason, Prager.

But he couldn’t come with on field missions. The next day they were sent out to investigate a radio signal that had been picked up in the middle of nowhere. That very same morning, Ripper Squad had been sent north, outside of the territory controlled by the RDA or any clans known to be a part of Jake’s resistance, to clear villages for expansion and guard construction of new bases.

Blue One’s mission turned out to be a complete dead end— the signal was just an old AMP suit that happened to activate somehow. There was no body in it, just a bundle of grass and sticks that might have been a birds’ nest. Hopefully Blue Two was having more fun than they were.

They now flew in two groups of four, with Quaritch and Lyle heading each formation, as they waited for Bridgehead’s command center to respond with new orders. Spence closed her eyes and let Cupid take the lead, listening to Spider teach Quaritch Na’vi phrases. It was somewhat peaceful, if she ignored the ache in her back and shoulders; a carryover of the bond. She couldn’t imagine how the Na’vi flew their ikrans so much without causing some kind of permanent damage from where they sat on them.

“Boss,” Lyle’s voice in her earpiece interrupted her relative peace. She opened her eyes to see he’d moved up to fly parallel with their group, “Long-range patrol picked up a radar hit. A rogue gunship.”

“Where?” Quaritch questioned him.

“Eastern Sea. Four hundred klicks north.”

Quaritch hummed to himself before holding Spider steady in front of him. He veered Cupcake left, and as they followed, Spence felt a knot of dread form in her stomach.

Chapter Text

There is a certain energy buzzing among the recoms when they return to Bridgehead. They’d normally joke around or chat during the flights to and from base, but this return trip was silent.

Spider had to squeeze his fists to keep his hands from shaking as the gravity of the situation weighed down on him. Quaritch would only stop when he or Jake were dead, but then again Quaritch could just come back if he failed. He barely even noticed the blood pooling in his fists where his nails dug into his palms.

Quaritch and Lyle veered away from the group as they flew into the city, beelining for the command center. At first Spence thought it best to avoid the General and her judgement, especially at a time like this, but Quaritch called after her on comms as soon as he realized she was no longer behind him. Good, he still trusts me , she thought. Pushing Cupid to catch up, they alight just behind Cupcake and Buttercup in front of the common center’s main building. The three of them, hating the noise of the city’s interior construction, fly off to perch atop a nearby crane; close enough to hear when their riders call, but far enough to spare their ears of the incessant drilling sounds.

The control room seemed no more frantic than usual. Ardmore wasn’t even there; Stringer had to send someone to fetch her. The three of them wait for her restlessly, pacing or tapping a foot against the ground. Their anxieties seemed to bleed into the room around them as the staffers purposefully made wide arcs to avoid walking near them, and even Stringer seemed to grow increasingly uneasy with them there.

Ardmore looks annoyed when she arrives. “Colonel,” her voice is just as flat and cruel as usual, but this time with a noticeable tinge of vexation; that tone was usually reserved for Spence, who she very clearly disliked. “You should still be in the field. What brings you back?” She didn’t say it, but what she meant was ‘Why the fuck are you here?’

He uncrosses his arms and throws them up in exasperation. “Ma’am, are you not concerned about that signal?” He smacks some buttons the holograms controls with much more force than needed until a projection of the Eastern Sea appears, cutting across Lyle, Spence, and Ardmore’s bodies. “A gunship, not one of ours, was picked up goin’ out there. We’d be stupid not to chase it.”

“Watch your tone,” she snaps. “Do you even have a plan?”

“Yep,” his tail thrashes behind him as he walks into the hologram. Lyle and Spence scramble to get out of the way as he begins to make arcs with his hands to make new graphics appear over the map. “The signal was intermittent, and they lost it over open water, but if you project the track,” he sweeps his arm over an archipelago and an orange arrow extends across it, “it hits this island group.” The arrow widens as he circles with his hand. 

Ardmore crosses her arms, already disapproving. “That’s hundreds of islands.” She shakes her head, “That’s a big search box, lots of villages.”

“This is our guy,” new determination washed over Quaritch’s face, darkening his features. “You give me ships and aircraft, I’ll bring ya back his scalp.”

Lyle began to pace behind Spence while she went rigid. She was at the precipice far sooner than she had hoped for, and very soon she’d have to choose. But there wasn’t much choice, was there? Sixteen years, an entire lifetime, had passed— if she was going to choose to run at any point, it should have been back then. Now, she was just a ghost. She pushed the thought down for now. Dwelling on it didn’t matter when in the end, the result would be the same: it’s either Jake or the recoms, and she didn’t like either option.

“Let it go, Colonel,” Ardmore was truly annoyed now, “he’s gone. Dead, for all we know.” She shifted to step away, ready to end the conversation.

“Nope.” Quaritch utterly refused to accept it, whether because he couldn’t get over the fact that he wasn’t in charge anymore, or because he was too obsessed with killing Jake, neither Lyle nor Spence could tell. “He’s out there,” he pointed at a separate screen displaying a few islands and walked toward it, tail thrashing behind him as he went “maybe raisin’ an army among the sea clans.” He turns back to Ardmore and Dorman and throws his hands out, “This is a coastal installation, you really want twenty thousand screamin’ Na’vi hittin’ from your seaward flank?”

Ardmore purses her lips. She won’t admit he’s right.

“General, trust me, you need to know Sully is dead.”

She stays silent for a moment, casting her eyes downward at their bare feet. They were still dirty from their trek in the woods that morning. She makes a face of disgust before looking back up at Quaritch and sighing. Her aversion and reluctance betray her thoughts even if she doesn’t speak them aloud, though Quaritch chooses to ignore it: ‘They’re too goddamn native .’ “One SeaDragon, one week.” She says nothing else, walking past Quaritch and out of the command center with her assistant in tow.

Quaritch nods, “Ma’am.”

SeaDragons are ugly things, made even uglier by what they were designed to do. Whales were first driven to endangerment on Earth by hunting them for their oil, and then totally wiped out when restrictions were lifted once more in the late 21st century; of course it would happen again on Pandora. CetOps was supposed to be a smaller operation, using funding that used to be allocated to the Avatar program, but its investments ballooned after the discovery of amrita – Dr. Garvin discovered it accidentally – and the RDA poured millions more into it to expand the fleet and its hunting efficiency. Spider’s stomach churned just thinking about it.

The ship’s roof thudded as the ikrans landed, forcing them to spread out as it groaned slightly beneath their weight. The bridge was positioned at the top of the ship exactly so it wouldn’t have to support so much. 

Spider immediately hopped down to the balcony where a disheveled man in cargo shorts and a Hawaiian shirt stood waiting for them. He looked nothing like a captain, but that’s exactly what Dorman had told them to expect. Next to him stood an equally scruffy man, but this one wore a vest and bag remarkably similar to the one Norm had in Spence’s memories. Spider offers them both a quiet greeting.

“You Scoresby?” Quaritch asks as he hops down to the balcony. His hand rests on the pistol strapped to his thigh.

Lyle follows him down, but Spence and Z-dog stand just above them at the edge of the roof. The other four are spread out between the ship’s two wings.

“Uh huh,” he has an Australian accent, and sounds pretty pissed off, “are you the asshole that’s commandeerin’ my ship?”

“That would be me.”

As the ship begins moving again, Scoresby sends someone to meet the rest of the squad on the main deck while Quaritch, Lyle, Spence, and Spider follow him and the other man into the bridge. It would be cramped enough with one recom, let alone three. Spence keeps her distance from the holotable while Quaritch explains the plan to save herself the neck pain and tunes out as he rehashes the plan to Scoresby.

Him interrupting the guy dressed like Norm mid-sentence brings her back into the conversation. “Uh, you are… who?”

“I-I’m Ian Garvin.” He didn’t look any older than Scoresby, but his hair was notably grayer. He holds his hand out to Quaritch, “Er- marine biologist.”

Quaritch completely ignores him and goes back to discussing the plan with Scoresby. He’s gone full tunnel vision on this.

“I hunt tulkun ,” Scoresby stops him when he suggests they search every village in the archipelago. “That’s what I’m rigged for, that’s all my guys do. I got quotas to meet.”

“I’ll be nice, once.” Quaritch smiles in a way that looks more like a predator baring its fangs, his ears pushed back against his head, “Then I won’t.”

Everyone can see the threat for what it is; Scoresby, Lyle, Spider, Garvin, Spence. The crew members in the room turn away, pretend they weren’t listening, for fear that when Quaritch is done with their boss they’ll be next.

“Well, if you can’t get out of it…” Scoresby’s face hardens before he flicks his head to the side, his unserious demeanor returning, “get into it!” He walks off immediately, shouting for all crews to report to their stations.

That can only mean one thing. Icy dread creeps up the back of Spider’s neck, and Garvin looks like he’s about to be sick.

“Watch the kid,” Lyle mutters to Spence as he follows Quaritch outside. “I don’t trust that Ian guy.”

Her ears flick backward. Those two made her the go-to babysitter every chance they got. “Sure.” He was her CO now, so even if he might not give a shit, she technically couldn’t say no to him. She takes a breath of CO2 and follows Spider and Garvin downstairs.

The bridge was connected to the bowels of the ship by a series of small staircases that Spence nearly had to crouch to get through. It reduced the number of airlocks the ship needed and made access to multiple areas of the ship – sleeping quarters, vehicle bay, etc – easier, but clearly that only applied if you were far less than nine feet tall. And Spence was less than nine feet tall, to be clear, but she certainly wasn’t human sized, either.

The corridors down here weren’t much bigger, so she had to hunch over, and the bulkhead doors practically had to be crawled through. She stayed a generous distance behind Spider and Dr. Garvin to give them a bit of privacy if they wanted to talk, but they didn’t. The awkward silence between them permeated all the way back to her.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, by the way,” Garvin finally says as they turn into a small, somewhat rudimentary looking lab. There’s hardly anything pertaining to the tulkun or amrita— the walls are covered in sketches of Na’vi and villages and sea creatures, while the tables and workstations are covered in jars of things preserved in formaldehyde and half-constructed metal cylinders meant for… something.

Spider and Spence share a glance behind his back. “Uh, which one of us?”

“Oh- both of you! Dr. Castello and I have been corresponding since he arrived on Pandora. We’re trying to arrange a sortie for him to accompany me in my mobile lab, but the General… she cares too much about amrita extraction to approve it.” There was a distinct nervousness about Garvin that just melted away as soon as he entered his lab.

Spence sat down on the floor near the door to avoid hunching over under the low ceilings. She stared at Garvin in confusion, “Castello… talks about me?”

“You’re the only one he doesn’t hate. Except Ja, of course.” He scratches his head and shoves some things on a counter aside to reveal a busted up coffee maker. “Though he speaks quite fondly of Ja… I almost–” he cuts himself off, “no, no, I shouldn’t gossip.” He empties out a few mugs that were holding random things and holds them up, “Coffee?”

“Um, thanks. And trust me, I’ve noticed.” She takes the very small mug he hands her and takes a small sip. “He’s actually my boyfriend, so…”

Spider snorts, “About time. Even I could tell how much you two beat around the bush.”

She laughed into the coffee, nearly spilling it over herself. “You little shit-”

Alarms. The lights throughout the interior of the ship switch to emergency red

“Phoebe!” Prager’s voice drifted into her earpiece. She was a little surprised it could reach her so far from Bridgehead’s signal boosters and through all the layers of metal. “The first island’s on the horizon. The Colonel wants us to fly over there and let the smaller boats catch up, element of surprise.”

“Fuck, already?” She scrambled to her feet, “Doc, where’s the nearest airlock?”

He pointed a shaky hand, “Back the way we came, up the first flight of stairs. It’ll put you on the lower deck by the moonpool.”

She grabbed Spider’s wrist, careful to keep her grip loose enough it wouldn’t hurt him, but tight enough he couldn’t get away. She moved as fast as she could down the corridor without pulling his arm out of its socket.

“Let go! Why do I need to come!?” He tried to yank away from her, but she held fast.

She pushed him into the airlock and grabbed one of the waterproof masks nearby and shoved it into his hands, “Because I think you’d prefer it if Miles wasn’t pissed at you. I know I do.” As soon as the airlock doors began to part, she ushers him out onto the lower deck where other humans frenzy to and fro to gear up into Skel Suits and Picador boats.

He reluctantly follows her up the ladder-like metal stairs to the upper deck where the ikrans are waiting restlessly. They didn’t like the movements of the ship.

Quaritch mounts his as soon as he sees them appear at the other side of the deck, “Hurry it up, Spence!”

He lifts off and the others follow, leaving Spider with no choice but to ride with Spence. Cupid is about to complain about the extra weight, but the bond fills his mind with an urgency that pushes him to shut it and catch up with the others. It’s not determination he feels from his rider; it’s dread.

Spence has never seen a Na’vi village in person. She’d seen plenty of photos of forest na’vi villages, accompanied by excited explanations that she barely remembered the details of from her SciOps friends, but this one looked nothing like those. It was tucked into a small cove, and the village itself was even smaller. From up here, it just looked like a campsite. Spider grimaced as she pulled him into her chest to prepare for the dive. Things come into focus as the squad gets lower and lower; most of the small houses sat on the ground, but some were built into the massive palm trees dotted across the beach, and the village’s shape was somewhat circular, surrounding a central firepit.

They weren’t hostile, at first. These Na’vi had likely never encountered the RDA in person, let alone a “dreamwalker,” so they had no reason to be afraid. They were curious. Why would anyone who looked like a forest Na’vi be all the way out here, where the people have teal skin and wider limbs for swimming?

But curiosity killed the cat, after all. They knew what was happening the moment the SeaDragon rounded the bend of the cove, followed by the Picadors speeding toward them. With a command from Quaritch in a language the Na’vi couldn’t understand, their strange visitors drew their metal weapons and forced them all into the middle of the village, restraining their hands behind their backs. The Sky People ransacked their homes, breaking their belongings, shocking them with metal sticks. The one who commanded the other vrrtep shouted at them with crude words, he could barely grasp the language he spoke, but the painted tawtute beside him spoke their language as if he was one of them.

Spence always hated this part. She was a good soldier, always had been, but threatening and assaulting civilians had always, always , rubbed her the wrong way. Anyone who knew anything of consequence anyway would be fighting back, not cowering in fear.

They needed to hit around seven villages per day if they wanted to get through the fifty in the archipelago that Dr. Garvin had estimated. Fifty rounds of terrorizing people, beating them, burning their homes. Spider blinked back the hot tears that threatened to fall. He knew if he started to cry, he wouldn’t be able to stop. He was forced to be an accessory to this.

With demands from Lyle, who surprisingly took the initiative to ask for information about the Na’vi, Garvin took time between each village raid that day to tell the recoms about the clans in the area. Most of the villages this far south belonged to the Ta’unui clan, who had a close relationship and cultural similarities with the larger Metkayina clan. If Jake Sully was hiding with either clan, the other would cover for him.

A storm was on the horizon, darkening the sky and whipping the winds through Spence’s hair as the squad flew to the seventh village of the day. It was exhausting. The Na’vi saw the SeaDragon before the recoms even arrived, but none brandished weapons when they arrived. The soldiers had only grown more enthusiastic as the day dragged on, many of the recoms included, and most used more force than was necessary to gather and subdue the Na’vi. Quaritch stood in the middle of it all, casually pulling up the entries for Jake and Neytiri on his datapad.

“Secure, Colonel,” Lyle said as he took a final look around and shoved the barrel of his rifle into the tsahìk’s neck.

“ This man, ” Quaritch ignored their begging and shoved the tablet in the olo’eyktan’s face, displaying an outdated photo of Jake. “ We know he is in these islands. Here? This village? ” His grammar was all over the place.

The olo’eyktan spoke quickly, in a dialect they could barely understand, but he was clearly denying that Jake was there. When pushed to translate, Spider relayed the same thing everyone else had said: “Forest people don’t come here.”

Quaritch continued to push it, waving the tablet in their faces. Spider gave him another translation he didn’t like. He pointed at something in the water, “Shoot that animal!”

Lyle didn’t give even a moment of hesitation. One, two, three, four – the corner of his lips pulling back in a sick smirk with each round fired – five, six, seven ; it was dead after the second shot. Spence recalled the icy terror Ronan had felt, and now she’d seen it for herself.

“You see what these can do?” Quaritch grabbed the olo’eyktan’s hair and pulled his head back, forcing him to look at his gun. He repeated himself, raising the tablet for the whole village to see and speaking slowly as if that would make them understand any better. “Put her down,” he barked, finally tired of these games. 

Lyle shoved the tsahìk down, and she yelped as her head hit the sand with a dull thud. Prager took her partner’s queue from Quaritch to prevent him from retaliating as a soldier in a Skel Suit electrocuted him with the cattle prod.

Look away. Spence’s stomach twists, and it’s all she could do to not cover her ears to block out the cries of the Na’vi. Block it out. Pretend it’s all a game. That was the only way she could rationalize many of the things she did on Earth. The Resource Wars turned millions of soldiers into monsters, there was no escaping that fact, but it wouldn’t stop her from running from it. It was easier at Hell’s Gate, she was fighting another species. But now she was one of them, like it or not. Swallowing the bile in her throat, she averted her eyes from where Lyle crouched beside the tsahìk with his knee pressing down on her queue.

She looked up just as Prager slammed the butt end of his rifle into the olo’eyktan’s jaw. The Na’vi grow more restless, screaming at the recoms and humans to stop, let them go, show mercy, anything , but none listen. Some stood to fight, but were immediately beaten down again. The tsahìk mumbled a prayer into the sand while Z-dog chewed her gum absent-mindedly. She blows a bubble like it’s just another Tuesday.

“We really gonna waste her?” Lyle looks up at Quaritch.

Spence can’t tell if he’s actually concerned about taking the life of an innocent, or if he’s just wondering why he hasn’t been given the kill order yet.

The Colonel puts a hand on his hip. He takes a quick look over the captives before glancing between Spider and the woman under Lyle’s knee, both of whom are begging, pleading, for this to stop.

He growls, and then looks at Spider one final time. Maybe the kid got through to him, or maybe he’s just bored. “Burn the hooches.”

“Hey, light ‘em up! All of ‘em!” Lyle shouts the orders for everyone to hear.

Prager is the only recom equipped with a flamethrower, and the first one to ignite the Na’vi’s homes. He wasn’t crazy about fire the way Amari was for explosives, but he’d always had an affinity for it; its warmth, its light. He delighted in the way the flames licked upward. Most saw it as chaotic, but he knew it could be controlled. That’s why he liked it. Destruction that could be kept on a leash, if you knew what you were doing.

His ears barely registered the wails behind him. His tail wagged in arcs behind him, and the corners of his lips lifted ever so slightly. This was the most like himself he’d felt in months— since they’d woken up, in fact. As he moved to light the next pod, Spence’s words from days ago weighed down his mind; she was right. He was different now, he felt nothing like the man whose memories he held. But watching the flames dance and cinders float through the village, he actually felt a bit better about that. There were less destructive ways to achieve it, for sure, but there was a path back to normalcy. He could feel it.

Quaritch grabbed Spider and motions for everyone to rally. Spence nearly sighed in relief, thankful to finally get away from the destruction; if she’s lucky, this would be the last raid of the day. The kid fights the Colonel, of course he does; it takes a grip firm enough to elicit a wince to finally make him follow. 

Flying back to the ship, Spence twists around to take a final look at the village. A huge plume of smoke rises from it, already mingling with the gray storm clouds above. With any luck, the rains would put out the fires in time to salvage something.

She turned to face forward. Luck like that was impossible.

Sleep did not come easy. Recoms couldn’t stay in the oxygenated quarters with the crew because the Atmos CO2 masks weren’t equipped for more than a few hours of use, so they stayed in tents on the deck near the moon pool. Between the hard ground, the storm, and the sound of Lyle’s snoring permeating the thin polyester walls of the tents, Spence slept like shit. All that would have made it hard enough, but for good measure, her insides also twisted themselves into knots of guilt and dread.

No one had been killed. Yet . That three letter word lingered in the back of her mind like music with a heavy bass vibrating through the floor. Even if she didn’t dwell on it, she could still feel it coming.

“This shit ain’t workin,’” Quaritch threw down the man he held and  walked over to Lyle and Spence after yet another village raid yielded zero results. It was the fourth one that day.

Lyle took a few steps to the edge of the woven home they stood in, out of earshot of Spider. “Nah, they’re stonewallin’ us.”

“If we turn up the heat, he’s just gonna keep running.” He glanced at the burning village behind them, and then to Spence, “We gotta draw him out.”

Spence blows some ash out of her face, “How do we do that?”

“Well, you knew him best, Phoebe. What makes him tick?”

She flinched. He so rarely addressed the fact that she was close with Jake that, even back when they were alive, she thought he forgot. He seemed now to remember it very clearly; his eyes glinted in a way that she didn’t like. “I-I don’t. Not anymore.”

He arches a brow but doesn’t voice whatever he’s thinking. “Well,” he jerks his head toward the ship. “I got another idea.”

They mount up and land on the SeaDragon’s roof once again. Garvin and Scoresby are there waiting for them.

“I’m over it, I’ve got quotas to meet!” The latter called up to them as they landed.

Lyle leans against the railing and crosses his arm, clearly done with Scoresby’s shit. Spence sits on the railing between him and Spider. She doesn’t like Scoresby either, to be honest.

“You wanna hunt?” Quaritch’s ears pull back, “Let’s hunt.”

Spider turns away from where he was watching the burning village. His face says everything.

“What, here? There’s too many villages.”

“No. No, no, no!” Garvin interjects, pushing in front of Scoresby and confronting Quaritch himself. “Respectfully, sir, you do not understand the kinship bonds between the tulkun and the ocean Na’vi. It would be like murdering a member of their family .”

“If we start hunting here, the hostiles will come after us.”

“Exactly,” Quaritch says, ignoring Garvin’s protests. “One hostile in particular…”

Spence did not follow them into the bridge, not wanting to deal with a hunt. Lyle didn’t either, but he was more concerned with getting a break to slack off than any moral dilemma. She stood at the edge of the upper deck, hair whipping around her face as the Seawasp behind her took off for the hunt. Lyle goes down to their makeshift camp, and since the entire crew is occupied with the hunt, she's alone up here with nothing but alien seabirds to keep her company. And… What is that?

Most of the birds around here are light green, and built somewhat like a smaller, sleeker version of an ikran. But even from this distance it’s clear that this thing is not only purple but larger. She swings her rifle around her shoulder to peer through the scope. It’s a stingbat, as clear as day.

She finds it a little odd that there’s one all the way out here, but then again she knew next to nothing about speciation on Pandora, or whatever it was called. But then she notices the collar. It’s woven, not like the thick nylon one Ronan was given. She only knew one person to ever collar a stingbat.

“Holy shit… Kev?” Spence said under her breath. Noah’s stingbat. They’d tamed him as part of the research that Castello had given her to help with Ronan, and he was somehow still alive. How long do stingbats live anyway? Wait- why the fuck would be Kev out here ??

She struggled to remember the melodic whistle Noah always used to call him. Putting her fingers in her mouth, she whistled as loud as she could, recreating the song as closely as she recalled— He didn’t respond.

Spence dropped her rifle, letting it swing from the strap around her shoulder. “Is it not him..?” She’s about to give up when she has an idea. Running to the opposite side of the deck, she leaned so far over the rail that she nearly tumbled over it, looking down at the deck below her. “Z!”

Z-dog stood by the moon pool, shaking water out of her boots from the storm the night before. Her ears perked up when she heard her name, “What? You’re gonna fall like that, y’know.”

“Get up here, you need to see this!”

She cocked her head as Spence disappeared back above the deck, but ultimately followed her up. Climbing up the ladder to the upper deck, Z-dog could see the tulkun hunt in the distance. She could hear the tulkun, too, their cries piercing above the sounds of the waves and the ship, but she ignored them.

The moment she reached the top of the ladder, Spence grabbed her hand and ran across the deck to where she saw Kev. She watched the shorter woman scan every inch of the skies, and then her face fell.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Spence muttered. “Where did he go?”

“Hey,” Z-dog put her hand on Spence’s shoulder, “calm down. Where did who go?”

“Kev! Noah’s stingbat, he was here!” She ran her hands through her hair. Only now did she realize how much it had grown since waking up; it was nearly down to her shoulders. Once her hair was out of her face, she tried the whistle again, but he didn’t come.

Z-dog turned to Spence to face her, “Are you sure you saw him?”

Spence huffed out a breath, “Yeah, I-” She looked to the side and gazed out at the sea where the boats had finally caught up to the tulkun. “I saw it. Maybe it wasn’t him, I don’t know, but I saw a stingbat.”

“What would Noah be doing out here..?” Z-dog said the question out-loud, but it was mostly to herself.

The ugly sounds of scraping metal reverberated below them as the boats and crab tanks docked on the ship. The cranes whirred, hauling in the tulkun’s corpse, before its massive weight finally slammed down on the deck. Only its head fit on the ship, mouth gaping wide.

“Nasty,” Z-dog says and walks away so she doesn’t have to look at it.

Spence looks out at the horizon one more time. There was nothing out there except Cupid, stretching his wings by circling the ship. She took a breath to collect herself, then went downstairs. If Noah was somewhere in these islands, she prayed to whatever god that would listen that they didn't meet.

There was no reason to stay up here, staring down at the tulkun while Scoresby took Quaritch inside its mouth to show him what they take from it, so Spence followed Z-Dog down to the lower deck. Thank god that thing hasn’t started rotting yet , she thought.

The voices inside the tulkun’s mouth drift out and grow clearer as she gets closer.

“...You just waste the rest?” Spider looked around inside and then at Scoresby. He was pissed, to say the least.

Scoresby stared back at him. Only two days, and he already hated the kid. “Drop the bags,” he called to the crew member behind him before walking away. “Let’s sink her!”

“No. Leave the bags,” Quaritch butted in, stopping Scoresby in his tracks. “I want ‘em to know it was us.”

“I charge extra for bein’ used as bait.”

They stared each other down, but ultimately it wasn't much of a choice. You try going against a nine foot tall Colonel and see how he takes being defied.

Three days now, it had been. The smell of burning wood and leaves had begun to stick to Prager’s clothes and hair, and it wouldn't come out no matter how hard he tried. But they’d made their way through nearly half of the islands. Night had long since settled over the ship, heavy and humid, the kind that felt like a thick, dark blanket. Since an incident the night before with a rogue skimwing, recoms were taking turns on the night watch, working in pairs. They were exhausted enough as is, and throwing patrols into the mix certainly wasn’t helping.

They were supposed to be keeping watch on opposite sides of the ship. That’s what Prager was doing for the first hour, at least. Slowly but surely, however, he and Spence gradually moved across the deck, closing the distance. He could see her now, just below where he stood on the upper deck. She sat on the edge with her legs dangling over the water and leaning against the rail, gun discarded beside her. She looked beautiful – serene, even – with the moonlight silhouetting her. He couldn’t see her face.

After a minute she turned to look up at him. “Are you just gonna stare, or are you gonna come sit with me?” She called out just loud enough to be heard over the waves, but quiet enough that the rest of their sleeping squad wouldn’t hear.

There was hardly any hesitation to abandon his post to climb down and sit with her. They sat thigh to thigh, soaking in the cool breeze together under the warm night. Next to her now, Prager could see the anxious tension in Spence’s face; she gripped the railing tightly. He thought she must just be nervous about the coming battle.

“Are you okay?”

“Uh huh.” Her ears gave her away, flinching back against her head in response to his voice. He may not have noticed it in the dark if not for her earrings glinting in the moonlight.

He rested a hand over hers on the railing, “You can talk about it, whatever it is.”

She shakes her head weakly. He got the message. Prager had never experienced Earth military, so he didn’t know what it was like to subjugate other humans when at war, he’d only fought the Na’vi; though looking like them did make it somewhat harder to make that mental disconnect needed for killing. Spence had years of practice with that, but it felt like that had all washed away. She felt like that scared little eighteen-year-old private again.

Prager couldn’t come up with anything else to say, and Spence didn’t have anything to say either. So they sit quietly, staring out at the inky black water. It was so dark that it looked like if they fell in now, they could sink forever without ever reaching the bottom, cold black water filling their lungs and pushing them further down. He squeezed her hand a little tighter.

As the quiet stretched out, she shifted so that she was turned away from him. The breeze had stopped, so the smell of smoke sticking to his hair and clothes sat thickly around them. He could still see the little orange dot of the fire he’d set hours earlier on the horizon; it almost looked like a star.

“Phoebe… can I ask you something?” He finally broke the silence.

She could feel his eyes drilling holes into the back of her skull, but she didn’t want to look at him, not right now. “What is it?”

Something was off, he could feel it. He didn’t know if she was mad at him or if something had happened, but he could tell by the tone of her voice she wouldn’t have anything good to say. “The other day, at the beach. What did you mean about the soul drive, and me being different?”

Spence turned to face him now, twisting so fast that her queue whipped around to smack the railing behind her, making her wince in response. Her eyes were wide, honeyed pool staring at him in shock, “I’d never seen you cry before.”

“What?”

“It’s been, what, six months? We’ve been back for just a few months, and I’ve seen you cry multiple times since then,” she hisses, tension pulling at her features. “When we were alive, I never once saw you cry, or even look weak. You could be vulnerable, but the James Prager in my memories was never once weak.”

His mouth flattened into a line, eyebrows furrowing. “What is that supposed to mean?”

She pulls one leg up under her to better match his height where she sat. “You’re like a different person, James. Something’s been off this entire time, and now this week! These bodies aren’t so foreign anymore that I don’t know your body language. I saw your tail wagging, Jamie, you enjoy hurting these innocent Na’vi.” She paused, voice shrinking, “That’s worse, that’s so much worse.”

“No, we- we haven’t even killed anyone. All I’m doing is setting stuff on fire, that’s not hurting anyone!”

“Oh, my god,” she lets out a choked laugh, “I forgot you were never a real soldier. You’ve never had to look a little girl in the eye after she just watched her home burn to ash because your unit failed to save her in time. You’ve never seen what war does to your own people.”

He smacks his hand against the deck, “Of course I have! I was on Pandora before you, I’ve seen plenty . And those aren’t our people, Phoebe, our people are on this ship . Those are blues .”

“ We’re blues!” She realized she said it too loud, her eyes darting to the tents in the moon pool. She took a breath to calm herself before speaking, “We’re not human anymore, we don’t get to claim that.”

His head bobbed with anger, “My humanity is all I have, actually, so if we don’t get to claim that anymore, what’s even the point? Why have these memories at all?.”

Her face fell, “Wait, but you have me— and-and Alex, too.”

“You?” Prager raked his hands down his face, “If you want to talk about being different , you should look in the mirror. You’ve been keeping things from me, Phoebe. You told me you thought you were pregnant and then never brought it up again.” His voice falters, then gets quiet, “It makes me think you don’t even trust me enough to tell me.”

“I can’t get pregnant, that’s the point! They sterilized us before we ever got a say in it. And of course I don’t want a baby, look around! Five of us have died already, and I doubt we’ll even make it out of this wild goose chase without losing more!”

“I would have supported any decision you made regardless if you had just told me ,” He leaned toward her, exasperated breath fanning across her face. “It’s the fact that you hid it.”

She flinched back involuntarily, “I was scared, okay? What if you left me? What if you got mean? It’s the same way I felt when I watched you burn down those villages. I don’t like this version of you, it’s too much like how you were before-” She realized what she was saying a moment too late, eyes widening and hand smacking over her mouth just as it finished shaping the words.

“Say it,” his voice was nearly a growl.

“Y-you had a temper,” Spence scooted back, suddenly aware of how close he was. She suddenly felt so small. “It wasn’t out often, but it was there, and that's why I never asked you out. I-I only said yes when you asked because I needed a rebound.”

Prager clicked his tongue, nodding. Then he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just when I finally feel normal again, like myself , I found out you only loved an idealized version of me.”

“That’s not-”

Acid coated his words, “It is, though, isn’t it?” He stood up, towering over where she still sat. “Our patrol’s almost over anyway, you can go back to the tent. And you don’t need to worry about me coming back and starting another fight. I’ll sleep somewhere else.” He didn’t wait for her to respond, instead walking past her to return to his post.

“Fuck…” she slumped forward against the railing once more. “Why did I say all that? Fuck!” She smacked a fist against her head, cursing herself out loud. As the weight of the breakup settled on her shoulders, she looked out at the dark moons silhouetted against Polyphemus in the night sky and realized the way this night echoed their first argument. Like then, she didn’t notice she had started crying until she choked out a sob; for the first time in this lifetime she cried until she couldn’t breathe, every grief from the past few months rushing forth and pouring out of her.

Her shift was over. Quaritch stood in the shadows under the upper deck, quietly waiting for her to finish. He rolled the potential of this being a liability back and forth in his mind, and by the time he had even thought to comfort her, she’d already gone quiet and left.

Prager was true to his word. As she returned to the tent, the thought crossed her mind for a moment to go after him, but it slipped away when she considered the possibility of them going for round two. He hadn’t even come back for his bedroll. It sat empty, still neatly pressed flat, next to hers.

Ja lay fast asleep on top of his own due to the heat. He’d spread out in the small pop-up tent in their absence, so Spence set her gear in the vacancy left by Prager and tucked herself into the remaining space by Ja’s side. She pressed her forehead against the bare skin between his shoulder blades, but sleep did not come. Instead, she counted the small iridescent spots that dappled constellations across his back.

She went rigid when he stirred, a groan rumbling within his chest and echoing through her bones. “Did I wake you?”

He shifted away from her before rolling over, “You were laying on my tail.” He sleepily draped an arm over her and pulled himself closer. “When did you guys come back?”

“It’s, um…” She squeezed her eyes, shut, not wanting to see his reaction when she told him. “It’s just me. James isn’t coming back tonight.”

“What?” Ja smacked his tail around on the bedroll behind him to feel for Prager, but was met only with the clunk of her vest and gun. “What happened, where is he?”

Spence’s tears threatened to fall again, “W-we had a fight, and I said so much awful shit. I don’t think I can take that stuff back.”

He suddenly propped himself up with his elbow, looking down at her, “We should go talk to him! We can’t just leave him out there overnight, Phoebe.”

“Please,” she grabs his hand and holds it against her forehead, closing her eyes. “Don’t. I don’t want to fight again, and we both need to cool off.”

He looks down at her curled up form, taking in the strain in her face and the exhaustion in her voice. She must be mentally hanging on by a thread, he guessed. “Okay,” he lay back down, “but promise you’ll talk to him soon. Please?”

She nods, pulling him closer. He falls asleep again easily after a little bit, but she isn’t so lucky. Hours might have passed, she doesn’t even know, before the fatigue weighs heavy enough on her to pull down on her eyelids.

“Hey, Z, pass me your pen.”

Lopez and Z-dog took the last patrol shift of the night, so they’d been awake for a few hours already by the time anyone else on the ship began to stir. It was only on their way back to pack up their makeshift campsite for the day did they notice Prager sleeping with the ikrans. His hand was draped over his eyes to block out the morning light, and Atlas’ big ugly head lay on his stomach.

“What are you, twelve? This isn’t a sleepover,” Z-dog replied.

“I don’t know,” Lopez pointed to Atlas, who was sprawled across the deck with his wings spread out, “looks like a sleepover to me.”

“How do you even know I carry a pen on me?”

“You like to label your favorite MRE flavors, even though it doesn’t stop anyone from taking the good stuff outta them.”

“How do you-” she scowled, “You ratfucking bastard.” She pulled the pen from her vest and threw it at his head, “Here. I hope he wakes up and kicks your ass.”

Lopez snickered and knelt down over Prager’s head. He uncapped the pen with his teeth, making Z-dog’s frown deepen. He got about halfway through drawing a sharpie mustache onto his face before a foot connected with his gut. The blow sent him hurtling backward where he landed on his own ikran, Tajín, making him screech and thrash around in response; the talons at the tips of his wings early took out Z-dog’s queue.

She jumped back and held her queue close to herself, “Jesus Christ!” 

“Güey! What the hell?” Lopez rolled out from under Tajín, who had pinned him down in his freak out, and pulled himself up. “Can’t you take a joke?”

Prager had sat up during the struggle, waking Atlas, and was scrubbing at his face trying to get the marker off. The ikran glared daggers at Lopez. “Your shit hasn’t been funny in days, Lopez.”

Lopez scoffed, “Excuse me for trying to lighten the mood while we march to our probable deaths, mi llave.” He puts out a hand to help him up.

Just then, yelling erupts from the lower deck. It’s not very intelligible due to the sounds of wind and waves, but it was very clearly Quaritch’s voice.

“Shit, we should go check that out,” Z-dog jogs over to the stairs.

Prager ignores Lopez’s outstretched hand and stands on his own. He’d given up on wiping the marker away, leaving a streak of black ink stretching from his upper lip to his cheekbone.

“Fucking let go!” Spider’s voice bounced across the deck as they made their way down the salted metal steps. Three rocks reach up from the horizon behind him like fingers.

Rounding the bend, they saw what all the fuss was about. Spider was hopelessly trying to pull himself from Quaritch’s grip, but the Colonel held fast. The only reason he hadn’t just lifted the kid up by the arm was the risk of dislocating it.

The nearest airlock hissed open and Spence, Lyle, and Mansk emerged. The former didn’t even hesitate to run in as soon as she saw the situation.

“Miles!” Spence grabbed Quaritch’s wrist, prying his fingers away from Spider’s arm. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

There were deep red marks across Spider’s forearm. Those were definitely going to bruise. He doesn’t hesitate to run off, extracting himself from Quaritch’s vicinity. Ja tries to intercept him to take a look at the bruises, but he bobs and weaves under his legs and runs inside.

Quaritch shook her off, “He needs to suck it up. We aren’t here to play house with those savages.” His voice had lowered to just below a shout. Anyone on the deck whose skin wasn’t blue made themself scarce as quickly as possible.

“You need to get a grip.” She lowered her voice, “We lose good people every time you go berserk. Leave Spider out of it.”

He leered down at her, leaning down to  meet her eyes, “You need to fall in line, Spence.” He was close enough that the angry breaths he huffed fanned across her face. “You can have a longer leash when lives aren’t on the line. Either you get your shit together, Corporal ,” his gaze flicked to Prager behind her before coming back, “or all our shit hits the fan. And that’ll be on you.”

He never called her by rank. How he referred to someone was the clearest indicator of how Quaritch viewed someone, and pulling rank with one of his own squad members was how you knew he was well and truly pissed off. Most of the recoms by now had gone back to the tents to pack up and were trying not to listen, but the few who kept eavesdropping felt a chill run down their spines.

Spence wasn’t one to back down, but she also knew not to poke the bear. Especially this one. He looked like he was about to blow if she said the wrong thing, but that didn’t mean she would just roll over, either. “Yes, sir ,” she said it with as much sarcasm and derision as possible.

Quaritch snarled in response and stormed off, presumably to the bridge.

Later that day, as the SeaDragon tracked another tulkun, the ship lurched to a stop near the three rocky islands reaching up from the sea. The water here was shallow, with reefs coming high enough in some places to pose a danger to the ship, but the crew navigated effortlessly over them in flight speed before abruptly braking and dropping into the water. 

Spider eyed the bridge’s 3D projection of the tulkun warily. Along with other pieces of data he didn’t understand, it also displayed that the RDA had dubbed this place “Three Brothers Rock.” Cheesy as hell , he thought.

“All crews to stations,” Scoresby said to his first mate and pushed away from the table. “All right people. Come on, let’s make some money!”

Garvin begrudgingly followed him to the airlock. Spider shared the sentiment. He followed them as well before Quaritch had the chance to grab him or bark an order. 

Something in the corner of his eye caught the Colonel’s attention. At first it just looked like some sea birds perched on a rock, but if he squinted… He needed a closer look. There were binoculars mounted on the railing outside.

“I’ll be damned,” he muttered as he peered through the lens and zoomed in on a handful of Na’vi trying to pry the tracker out of a tulkun. One boy in particular, who didn’t have the trademark teal skin of the reef people, looked very familiar. He looked up at Lyle from where he knelt, “Sully’s kids.”

Spider blanched.

“Let’s roll- Not you.” Quaritch put his hand out to stop Spider from climbing up to the roof with them.

Spence, on the lower deck, flinched when she heard Lyle whistle for them to saddle up. She ran for her ikran with a hand on her throat comm, “Talk to me, what’s happening?” She didn’t know why she asked the question, she knew the answer. It’s why they were out here.

“Sully’s kid’s are here, which means the man himself must be on his way,” Lyle chuckled dryly, “He’s gonna get a world of payback.”

“Half of you stay with the ship, the other half grab those kids the moment they come up for air,” Quaritch commanded. His voice still sounded on edge like this morning. “I’m switchin’ to Scoresby’s channel.”

Spence, Lyle, and Mansk were already in the air, so they spread out and kept low to the water. Spence could feel her hands shaking around her gun. This is it. The breaking point . Her eyes flicked anxiously between the waves below her and the horizon, half expecting a horde of Na’vi to appear at any moment, spearheaded by Jake. The lights of the subs below danced, flashing in and out as they passed behind the giant kelp that brushed the surface of the water.

Above her, Quaritch was circling like a bird of prey. After a few more minutes, his voice came back into her earpiece, “They caught a few in the nets. Lyle, with me, rest of you get back to the ship. Be ready to subdue them, don’t underestimate ‘em.” Cupcake tucked in his wings and dove, cutting into water like a knife— Buttercup followed just after. They came back up with a net clutched between their talons, with two Na’vi inside and a third hanging onto the outside. The third, who they all recognized as the mouthy one from the ambush, brandished his knife as soon as he landed on the deck; every soldier on the ship pointed their rifles at him in kind.

“Drop the weapon,” Prager said, lowering his gun, “put it down.” 

The kid didn’t comply, obviously, instead baring his fangs and slashed at him. Prager caught his wrist and brought him down in one swift motion, and a nearby soldier in a Skel Suit pinned him down under their iron foot. As the other two emerged from the net, they too drew their knives and tried to defend themselves, but Z-dog and Mansk quickly brought them to heal. One of them was the little girl that had bitten Z; she still had the marks on her hand from that.

“Hey! Hey, what are you doing, stop!” Spider jumped down a flight of stairs and ran toward the three just as Quaritch and Lyle landed. “Stop, don’t hurt them!”

Spence caught him in her arms, holding him in place so he couldn’t interfere.

“Stop- don’t hurt them!”

“I’m sorry,” Spence hissed through her teeth.

The boy underneath Prager continued to struggle, “Spider!”

Spider stopped fighting, realizing there was no way he could get out of her hold without causing more problems. “Bro, you okay?”

“Yeah. Great, cuz,” He answered in English.

Quaritch hopped down from his mount, his presence commanding silence from everyone, even the captives. He adjusted the gun hanging from his shoulder and looked Spider over, “Get back to the bridge.” 

Spence handed him off to the soldiers that had chased him outside. He smacked their hands away and reluctantly did as he was told.

“Keep him there!” Quaritch’s gaze fell on the Na’vi boy next. “Yeah,” he snarled, “I remember you. Cuff him to the rail, all of ‘em.”

“Watch ‘em, they bite,” Z snarked as she dragged the smallest one to the rail.

The kids struggled, but ultimately were cuffed anyway. The boy said something to his sister in Na’vi; to comfort her, maybe. She’s too young to be involved in this, Spence had to look away to keep herself from thinking about it.

Everyone turned when they saw movement in their peripherals– a flock of… some kind of animals they hadn’t seen before had just rounded the bend of the islands. “Na’vi inbound!” Lyle shouted, “Spread out, weapons up!”

“Push left, spread out,” Spence called out to the group of soldiers closest to her. Other than the humans, that just included Ja and Prager. Ja went the furthest down the ship, with Prager closest to Quaritch, and her in the middle. Z-dog, Lopez, and Mansk were on his other side, near the kids.

She peered down her scope as the Na’vi slowed in the water, stopping a good distance out. “Three hundred yards,” Lyle's voice was gruff in her earpiece. Jake was doing the same, looking through his scope to get a look.

Quaritch’s demeanor, which had been increasingly erratic throughout this hunt, became incredibly calm. Eerily so. He ripped the comms from the Na’vi boy with the assumption it was tuned to the same channel as Jake’s. “Tell your friends to stand down,” his voice was like stone, cold and hard. “You want your kids back… you come out alone.”

The hairs on the back of Spence’s neck stood up.

He drew his pistol, holding it up for Jake to see, “You know better than to test my resolve,” he pushed the barrel against the back of his head. There was something else in his voice, and Spence wasn’t the only one who noticed it; he couldn’t wait to pull that trigger, to blow his brains all over the rail and watch them float away like seafoam. It’s not a bluff. “I will not hesitate to execute your kid.”

Chapter Text

One moment, Spence was watching Jake slowly approach the SeaDragon. Her finger trembled over the trigger, sights trained between his eyes. Even if they hadn’t been ordered not to shoot, she wouldn’t have been able to bring herself to do it.

In the next, she was staring up at a tulkun as it charged out of the water and hurtled over the ship. The force of its landing shook the whole ship, crushing some soldiers and knocking the rest right onto their asses. It was smart, too smart. It knew exactly how to deflect bullets with its thick fins and knock soldiers into the sea by swinging its massive tail. She shot without even thinking, there was no time to think at all.

She barely registered her name being shouted behind her, nor did she see the tail about to smack down from above. Something from behind crashed into her, knocking her to the ground and out of the path of destruction. She rolled out from under them just in time to look up and see it was Ja who tackled her, just before the tail came again and landed in front of her. It all happened so fast… It must have landed directly on top of him– crushed him. A scream erupted from her throat, barely audible over the gunfire and cries of the tulkun, as the tail moved and swept what remained of him into the water. The creature didn’t miss a beat, swinging its tail up to destroy a catwalk above her, taking out every human on it, before bringing it down over her again. She scrambled out of the way just in time to miss being crushed by a hair’s breadth.

The beast deflected a harpoon, sending it careening into the ship where it exploded, before sliding off the other side of the deck and into the water. It nearly took the other recoms into the water with it. 

“Sully’s inbound,” Quaritch shouted as he pulled himself up and saw the incoming horde, “I want eyes on!”

“Alright, let’s go,” Lyle ordered, calling for his ikran. “Saddle up, we’re up!”

The ikrans had all flown off when the tulkun smacked down, but returned as soon as they were called. Cupid chittered nervously as Spence approached, and it took a few moments of calming him before he agreed to bond with her. It was a good thing, too, calming herself down just enough to slow her racing heart before connecting; Cupid had a tendency to get too anxious when she brought her own worries into the bond.

She jumped on, leaping into the air and flying straight up to get as much height as possible. All those months of training wasn’t for nothing. From this height, picking off Na’vi warriors as they leapt from the water on the backs of their aquatic mounts was as easy as if they were foot soldiers in the bush. Those memories flashed through her mind like a silent film as she pulled the trigger again and again, but she felt numb to them. It seemed that whatever wires in her brain hadn’t been connected for certain past traumas to affect her.

She watched the Seawasp get shot down before an ikran she didn’t recognize banked out of the smoke, and straight toward her . There was no one it could be but Neytiri, and nowhere to go but down. Cupid tucked his wings and they dove, narrowly avoiding multiple Na’vi who were concealed in the waves beneath her, pointed spears at the ready.

A sudden, sharp pain jolted through her mind like lightning. She opened her mouth to scream, but dark water rushed into her lungs instead as red clouded her vision. It’s all she could do to go up, to get out of the water and into the air. They need to get back to the ship– where is the ship? How long were we down there? She could barely think over the burning in her lungs and throat as she coughed up the seawater. The SeaDragon now lay tens of meters away from where it had been before, even further than Spence was expecting to fly with this horrible pain, and it was surrounded in fire. She looked at her own side, where it felt like it was coming from, but she was fine. There was no wound. Then she saw the spear jutting out of Cupid. It had passed straight through his wing, lodging itself between his ribs and slowing him down.

“Fuck,” she hissed, “I’m so sorry boy. You’re gonna be okay, you’re gonna be okay. Just a little longer,” she said, trying to convince him just as much as herself. She patted his neck and pushed one last time toward the ship.

She spent so much energy focusing on staying above the water that she didn’t realize they were too high up for a smooth landing. Cupid’s wing was too damaged to slow their descent once they reached the ship, and the pain was too much for either of them to bear. Her vision swam, and they began to lose consciousness.

Lyle finished cuffing the girl that looked like Dr. Augustine just in time to look up and see them drop from the air. There was no time to catch her. 

They crashed, hard. The ikran’s body broke most of her fall, but she was thrown off and rolled a few feet away. The shock of their queues being ripped apart and the pain suddenly disappearing jerked her awake, just in time for Lyle to run to her side.

“Shit, Phoebs, you good?” He patted her down in as un-creepily a way as possible before helping her sit up.

Spence groaned, “The fall hurt, but…” she rubbed her ribs where a phantom pain lingered and used his shoulder to pull herself up, “I’m fine.” She pushed away from him and walked over to Cupid’s crumpled form, dropping to her knees by his head. He lifted his head weakly and dropped it into her lap. “Shhh, Cupid,” she murmured, “you can let go.” A single tear fell onto his chin crest, “I-It’s okay.”

His breathing, which had been so labored up til now, finally went quiet, and his body stilled. Loyal and loving to the end.

The sun began to slip behind Polyphemus then. Quaritch glared at it as he hauled himself out of the water. As if he could defy the sun itself. “You two,” he spotted Spence and Lyle, “keep an eye on the damn hostages.”

The two other girls had somehow gotten loose, and were trying to free the one Lyle had just cuffed. Quaritch walked over coolly and grabbed the youngest, handing her off to Spence – well, more like he threw her over – before shoving the reef girl over the side. Spence cuffed the young one next to the other as Z-dog and Mansk showed up. She gave them a small smile that said ‘ Thank god you’re okay.’

Quaritch looked over the four of them, calculating their odds in his head, “We can still get this done.”

“Hell yeah,” Z-dog nodded.

Gunfire echoed through the bowels of the ship. Their ears all perked up in sync.

“What was that?” Lyle asked before clicking on his comms, “Prager, you still with us? Lopez, Ja? That y’all?”

Spence half-expected nothing but silence on the other end, but, after a moment, Prager spoke up, “No, no, that wasn’t me.”

A horrible weight lifted from her shoulders. She hadn’t even let herself think about the possibility of him dying too, and she could only assume that the lack of any kind of response from Lopez meant the worst; she already knew what had come of Ja.

There was still time to apologize. They still had time. She clenched her fists, a wave of determination rushing through her.

“Let’s check it out,” Lyle answered into the mic before turning to the others. “We got it, Colonel. I bet it’s the other kids.”

Quaritch nodded grimly, and Lyle trotted off. “Spread out,” he said to three who remained. “We need to see him comin’ from every angle.”

Lyle went up to the walkways that hadn’t been destroyed by the tulkun to get a higher vantage point while Prager went low.

“I’m on the north side of the ship, with some of the crew that’s still evacuating,” Prager spoke quietly into the comms. He and Lyle stayed on the same channel so the rest could hear it. “I’m seeing blue… please tell me that’s you.”

Lyle replied into the comms as he approached, “Nope,” before releasing the button and snapping his fingers so Prager would hear him coming. “I’m right behind- oh, shit!”

He and Prager saw them at the same time. Two Na’vi and Spider; one of them was the boy Prager had tied up before everything went to shit, but the other one… they were taller, and looked oddly familiar. Like a certain rebel leader they’d seen time and time again this week on the screens they shoved into the Na’vi’s faces.

“Is that his fuckin’ wife? ”

Prager didn’t have a chance to respond, he was too busy firing at them. The Colonel would surely have his queue if he hurt Spider, but that wasn’t his concern just now; he was a little preoccupied with the tallest one shooting back at him. He could see the other two make a run for the moon pool before they dove.

“Cover, cover!” Lyle shouted at him.

He backed away, dashing around a support beam to get a new angle on the insurgent. They took the brief lapse in fire as an opportunity to make a break for it, abandoning the rifle and launching themself into the water. The two recoms could see a spray of red as a bullet finally connected with their chest.

Lyle whooped, “I hit her! I’m claimin’ that,” his smile was goofy, like this was just target practice.

They ran over and looked over the railing. “They’re gone,” Prager muttered. He glanced over to the blood splattered across the ground and railing before his eyes trailed over to the discarded rifle. His chest squeezed as he recognized it, “That’s… that’s Ja’s Bullpup.”

“Fuck,” Lyle muttered, dragging a hand down his face. “We’ll avenge him. We’ll get ‘em back for everyone they took,” he pointed at the blood, “starting with his bitch wife.”

“I…” Prager’s features stiffened in thought. Something about that felt off. “I’m not so sure it was her. That one didn’t look any older than the other one.”

Something in Lyle froze, a part of himself he didn’t even know he had twisting with icy dread. No, surely not. He laughed it off. He didn’t kill kids, he wouldn’t. If he was into that kind of thing, Sully wouldn’t have any children left to begin with, but this is where he drew the line .

“Wainfleet?”

He’d spaced out without realizing it, staring blankly at the freshly spilled crimson beneath his feet. He blinked the thoughts away, locking them up in a dark and secret corner of his mind. “Let’s get back,” he said flatly. 

They all heard the precise moment the gunfire stopped. It echoed against waves and the rocky islands in the distance before complete silence fell over the ship. Spence’s hand tensed around her gun, fearing the worst.

“Lyle, come in,” Quaritch’s voice interrupted the silence. There was a tinge of worry in his voice, “Come in .”

At first, no one replied, but they could hear the faint static sound that indicated someone had pressed down on their comms. “They got away,” Lyle’s gruff voice finally replied. “Hit one of ‘em.”

“It was one of Sully’s kids,” Prager chimed in, “I’m sure of it.”

Spence could see Jake and his family from where she knelt on the helideck. Spider was with them too. It was an easy shot, just like before, as she peered down her sights to watch them. But no, she couldn’t do it – she wouldn’t – even if it was his fault that Ja was now dead. And Brown. And Fike. Countless others.

The sandbar the Sullys had retreated to wasn’t so far away that they couldn’t hear the screams. An unknowable grief, the loss of a child.

Quaritch held the boy’s comms up, “Can you hear me Corporal?” He didn’t wait for a response, “Yeah, yeah I think you can. I got your daughters.”

She couldn’t make out his expression from this distance, but Jake turned to look at the ship. She could only imagine the dagger he was glaring at them.

“Same deal as before.” Quaritch’s voice grew impossibly cold, “You for them.”

Before long, Prager and Z-dog joined her on the helideck, along with a handful of human soldiers. They fanned out above while the others took point below to cover every angle. Spence didn’t move a muscle, keeping her eye trained down her gun. Then Neytiri lifted off on her ikran.

Spence didn’t know what to do, what to say. Maybe she should just let them come, maybe they deserved it. A part of her was almost ready to let it happen–

“Hold fire.” Quaritch had been watching too. Watching as Jake slid into the water with Spider on the back of one of those aquatic mounts. “He’s comin.’” He sounded almost triumphant, as if the battle was already won. “Let’s get this guy, it’s what we came here for!”

She cursed under her breath and finally stopped staring through the rifle’s scope. Jake’s approach stood at the forefront of her mind, along with the reality that if they wanted to live through the night, he’d have to die; she couldn’t see any other way. But those kids sat at the back of her mind, cuffed to the rail. “Are you really gonna let those girls drown with the ship, Miles?” Her question earned her some side eye.

If Quaritch heard her, he didn’t answer. He didn’t get the chance to.

They heard a shout, and before anyone could react, a massive explosion went off. The force of it pushed Spence forward so hard that she nearly tumbled over the railing. The Seawasp. It had been teetering on the other edge of the deck after crashing earlier in the battle, sitting in just the right spot to provide cover to whomever may try to sneak up the other side of the ship. It was just a hunk of burning black metal now, surrounded in flames and the bodies of nigh a dozen humans. Prager and a man in a Skel Suit rushed in to drag corpses and wounded alike out of the flames.

It all happened in slow motion. As Spence moved to help them, the Skel Suit went down to her left. A massive spear stuck out of the human, utterly dwarfing him. She didn’t even realize the Na’vi wielding it was Jake until he wrenched it out of the body and into the nearest soldier.

Prager.

It went into Prager.

Time seemed to stop for a moment. All sound stopped as she was deafened by the sound of her own blood rushing in her ears. She might have screamed. She couldn’t hear it.

Jake and Spence locked eyes. They were a mere meter apart, the only thing separating them was the body of the man she loved dangling from the spear. She was pinned between him, the wall, and the sea; she was out of options. 

While she felt like the world had stopped moving, Jake never did. He pulled the rifle strap off of Prager’s shoulder and raised it, shooting a human behind Spence. When it turned to her… hesitation. Just barely noticeable, but just enough to do something. 

Fight or flight. Shoot him, avenging everyone and completing your mission, or dive. The thoughts flew through her mind in less than a second, and she was moving before there was even time to consider them.

Flight kicked in. Spence dropped her gun and let it swing from her shoulder just as she heard Z-dog screaming behind her, firing at Jake. They ran in the same direction, dashing behind the cover of another burned out gunship, but the difference was that he didn’t jump. She hadn’t even thought of it, but her legs were moving with a mind of their own now, something deep inside her brain running for its life. The last thing she heard before she hit the water was an ikran, and Z-dog’s gun going quiet.

The water was cold, much colder than Spence ever would have expected. The shock of it made her gasp, allowing it into her mouth. Into her lungs. It felt like shards of glass cascading down her throat.

She wasn’t far from the surface, she could save herself. Just a few kicks of her feet and she would be saved. Why bother, said a tiny voice in the back of her head, they’re all dead. Join them. She’s a diver, she’d been training for weeks for the potential of an amphibious mission, so she should be the last of them to drown. To do so would require active effort on her part; she thrashed in the water, but balled her fists up to keep from clawing at her throat; kicked her legs in such a way that it didn’t propel her upward.

It would be so much easier to let this happen. She wouldn’t need to be killed by Jake, or even worse– his wife. Even if Spence managed to escape the burning ship and the Na’vi who wanted to slaughter, then what? Live alone as the only remaining recombinant? And that was if Ardmore didn’t decide she wasn't worth the effort and “decommissioned” her.

The outcome was the same either way. Why not speed it up?

She was about to open her mouth wider, let the water rush in and drag her into the dark depths below, until a column of white bubbles in her periphery snapped her to attention. Whatever it was, it was obscured at first– that is until a blue tail disrupted the bubbles. They dissipated gradually until she could see a bald head. That was enough.

Spence’s body jumped into action before her mind could, moving with the easy muscle memory built by all her training in order to reach him. Up close, she could tell Lyle was unconscious; one hand still gripped his rifle, but his limbs were completely limp. His mouth was open, too. If she didn’t save him as soon as possible, he could drown. Gripping the straps of his vest, she kicked as hard as she could in the water. Heavy bastard, she wanted to curse out loud. She didn’t know how big their lungs were, but assuming they were the size of a human’s was a good estimate– that meant she only had about three minutes from when he hit the water to resuscitate him. Two minutes, now. As soon as they reached the surface and Spence finished hacking the water out of her own lungs, she turned to Lyle.

The ship was too dangerous, and they weren’t close enough to any kind of reef or shoal, so she had to give CPR in the water. Chest compressions weren’t an option while floating, so mouth-to-mouth it would have to be.

“Wake up, you ugly bastard,” she muttered after giving him a few breaths. He was unresponsive, mouth agape like a dead fish. She glanced warily at the ship again before sealing her lips over his once more.

Luckily she got to him quickly, so he came to quickly as well, albeit still delirious from whatever had hit him in the head hard enough to knock him out.

“Fffuck,” he groaned after coughing up the contents of his lungs.

“Are you okay, can you swim?” She was still holding the back of his neck from the CPR. Her other hand, which plugged his nose during it, had dropped into the water and now clenched the straps of his vest in a white-knuckled grip.

He wiggled his limbs, then looked up at her, “Yeah, if you let me go.” His voice was still hoarse.

She released him and pointed behind him after a quick glance around. “Over there,” she could just make out something poking out of the waves, “get to those rocks and wait for me.”

“Where the fuck are you going? Ship’s goin’ down and that woman is still up there.”

“So are our people , Lyle. I ain’t leavin’ them.”

He looked scared. “They’ll kill you.”

“Maybe. That’s fine.” Spence was about to dive, to get back to the ship as quickly and quietly as possible, before Lyle grabbed her.

“Wait- I saw Mansk before I went down. Sully didn’t kill him. He’s out cold.”

She nodded wordlessly and dove beneath the surface with the grace of one of the animals he’d shot days earlier. He couldn’t tell if the wetness on her cheeks was merely sea water, or if she’d been crying.

“Miles, are you there?” Comms were quiet. “Mansk, can you hear me?” Not even the static that usually came when Spence pressed down the button could be heard; they were busted. So much for waterproof gear. She ripped the earpiece and collar off and tossed them onto the deck before hoisting herself over the edge.

The ship was sinking at an alarming rate, but the only area submerged enough to forgo climbing was also next to those kids— hell no. It was best to steer as clear of them as possible lest she catch an arrow in her skull. Carefully, she slipped the strap of her rifle over her head and set it on the deck as quietly as possible. She needed to do this quickly and quietly, and it would only get in the way.

She’d done this before. They don’t give out Navy Crosses for nothing. On Earth, she managed to recover four of her comrades – her friends - after an ambush and dragged them to safety. Three of them were already dead when she got to them, but she still couldn’t leave them behind. Guerillas and landmines were one thing, but there was a world of difference between an enemy you could predict and a Na’vi warrior— literally.

Spence’s ears perked up. She could hear Neytiri, not far away, as her shouts devolved into incoherent howls. Spence crouched low to the ground, moving like a real Na’vi. There was enough debris and cargo to get her to the other side of the moon pool, so long as Neytiri stayed put. 

The scream stopped her in her tracks. There was nothing , not on Earth or Pandora, Spence knew of that made a sound like that. Ignoring the wet sounds of Neytiri’s knife stabbing into a soldier over and over again was simple, but this… cold fear slithered down her spine and tucked her tails between her knees. That was the scream of someone who felt they had nothing left to lose.

A shadow suddenly cut across Spence’s path as Neytiri stood, the burning debris behind her casting a huge, black shadow. Spence held her breath and tried to make herself as small as possible behind the abandoned lifeboat. It felt like a horror game, just staring at that shadow, waiting for it to move, for Neytiri to grab her queue and drive that knife into her, next—

It receded. Neytiri hadn’t even turned in her direction as she caught her breath. Her bare footfalls echoed in Spence’s ears as she stalked to another part of the ship, and it took another few moments of stillness for it to feel safe enough to move again. Spence dared not stand, instead continuing to creep as low to the ground as possible, waiting a few heartbeats behind each cover before moving to the next. There was a trail of bodies in Neytiri’s path.

Finally, after what felt like ages, she could see Mansk’s limp body beside a pillar. He was just close enough to the railing that she would be able to get him off the ship undetected. The only problem was, she could hear the rest of the battle; it was just Miles now, every other human had been slaughtered. Warily leaning past the edge of the Mako Sub she crouched behind, she could see Jake facing away from her with one of the girls, and Quaritch across from him with the older one under his knife. Their eyes met every so briefly before he looked back to Jake, and she took it as her signal to move before Neytiri could appear.

Mansk’s gun was gone, as were his glasses. He was still totally unconscious, and the nearest railing had a blood stain on it– she could only guess if it was his or not. He was heavy, and cumbersome, but it was nothing she couldn’t handle. They’d gotten to the edge of the ship and were just about to slip away when they were finally spotted.

“Dad!” One of the girls, the youngest, shouted and pointed at her.

Spence pulled the pistol from Mansk’s and trained it on Jake. Her mouth opened – there was so much she could have said in that moment, but nothing came out – before closing again. He couldn’t have done much anyway, he’d just kicked his weapons away at Quaritch’s behest.

The Colonel in question pulled the handcuffs from his belt and tossed them in front of him, “Cuff yourself.”

“No! No, don’t hurt them, okay?” None of them had seen Spider until he appeared out of nowhere, darting out from behind a piece of machinery where the sea began to engulf the sinking ship. His eyes flicked nervously between Quaritch and Spence, the knife and the gun.

“Stand there!” Quaritch screamed at Spider, pointing at him with his free hand, Don’t. Move. Not a step.” He gestured for Spence to go, to get out while she still could.

He didn’t care if he lived or died, this was his fight. Even so, he was fucking terrified.

Lyle helped heave Mansk’s still-unconscious body when Spence finally got him to safety. His pulse was weak, but it was there, and the bleeding from his head had nearly stopped.

“What’s the situation?” Lyle asked as he unclipped a pouch to provide any sort of cushioning for Mansk’s head.

Spence collapsed, the adrenaline that had kept her going finally running out. “Prager and Z are dead. Spider’s alive, so are J- Sully and his wife. Quaritch…” she looked back at the ship.

It wasn’t at all how she’d left it. It was fucking upside-down . She was so focused on keeping Mansk afloat that she didn’t even hear the metal groaning as it rotated.

“No, no, no,” she scrambled to her knees, inching toward the water, “Miles is still onboard!”

“Spence, stop,” he looped an arm around her waist and pulled her back, keeping her in place, “just stop . It’s FUBAR. We’re fucked,” his voice cracked.

“We- we can’t–” she gave up, going limp in his arms. Her eyes fell on Mansk, whose chest rose and fell ever so slightly with faint breaths. “We can’t just leave him.”

Lyle released her and turned her shoulder to face him, “Quit trying to get yourself killed! We are still alive, and we are going to keep this shit going. We’re gonna make it home.”

She shook her head, “Cupid’s dead. Who knows when Mansk will wake up, let alone when he’ll actually be able to fly,” she raised a hand to block the sun as it emerged from eclipse behind him. “We’ll die here either way.”

“No,” he shook her shoulder, “we won’t.” He let go of her and stood before yanking his gloves off, putting his fingers in his mouth, and whistling as loud as possible. Buttercup screeched somewhere far off, vaguely in the direction of Three Brothers Rock. “I’ll get help. If I go now, I can get back to base before nightfall. Maybe they give us a few bombs to drop on those blue monkeys too, who knows.”

Spence unholstered her and Mansk’s pistols. Hers was only at half, and his was completely empty; the best bluff is when you don’t even know it’s a bluff. “How’s your ammo?”

Lyle’s pistol was missing, and his rifle… “Three rounds.” He removed the strap and handed it to her, “Just in case.”

“No,” she pushed it away, “keep it. You’ll need it if they chase you.”

“What about you?”

She gestured to their knives, which still sat snugly in her and Mansk’s respective sheathes. “It won’t do much if their whole clan shows up again, but we could always k–” she stopped herself short of finishing the joke. It would not have landed, not in this situation. “Nevermind. Your ride’s here.”

Buttercup had reached them finally and alighted on another nearby rock that Lyle would need to wade over to. He climbed onto his saddle, but stopped just short of taking off, “Will you be okay?”

“No,” the answer came without even thinking. “Physically, though? We aren’t goin’ anywhere. We’ll be fine.”

Lyle nodded, taking off. He wasn’t even in the air for a minute before Spence stuck her head in the water so he wouldn’t have to hear her scream.

Chapter Text

“ Spider!”

Quaritch couldn’t decide what hurt more: the cuts and bruises covering his body, the scorching sun beating down on his back, or his son forsaking him.

Son… when did he come to care so much about Spider? Quaritch held the memories of a human man who loved his son, his baby boy that he would read to in his bunk and carry on his shoulders. The memories of Paz, the woman with whom his relationship was rocky, but he still cared for her. But those weren’t his. This Miles Quaritch had never met Paz, despite how the tug in his chest felt when he thought of her.

It didn’t matter which version he was. His son wanted nothing to do with him. And to put the icing on the cake, his entire squad was gone, too. If they weren’t dead when the ship went down, they likely went down with it– like he nearly did. For all his resentment, Spider still saved him, and Quaritch couldn’t understand why.

He had nothing but time to dwell on it. The flight to Bridgehead would have been long even if he were at full strength and well supplied, and that was if he remembered the way back.

After the calls of ikran were beyond the horizon, and the flames on the surface of the water had died out, the sea was silent. No sounds but the waves could be heard for miles. Even the calls of sea birds were missing, like all wildlife was avoiding the area. It had an aura of death about it, and it weighed heavy.

Spence sat still for a long time once she stopped crying. There was nothing to be done but wait for Mansk to wake up. She didn’t see any of the other ikrans die, but they were nowhere to be seen, either; even Tomahawk, Mansk’s mount, had seemingly vanished.

Shifting to check Mansk’s pulse, she winced– there was a gash in her abdomen she hadn’t noticed before in all the action, and the blood had dried in the hours they’d been stuck on this sandbank. Now that she was focused on it, she realized everything hurt. An ache spread from the depths of her bones throughout her entire body, seemingly spilling through her fingertips as she pressed them to Mansk’s throat, getting a twitch from him in response. His pulse was steady. With any luck, he would wake up soon. 

With every second Spence spent clinging to consciousness, her muscles only felt heavier. Maybe it was the blood loss she hadn’t noticed, but she was beginning to feel too weak to stay upright. She tried running the numbers in her head, but it only exhausted her more: at top speed, and without breaks, it would take Lyle around four hours to fly back to Bridgehead City– and that was if he didn’t get lost or sidetracked along the way. She checked her and Mansk’s hydration packs for what felt like the hundredth time. If they rationed it well and he kept sleeping, it could last until he came with reinforcements tomorrow, but that didn’t account for the sun.

The heat was only pushing her further into exhaustion. She finally gave in, peeling her jacket off and throwing it over Mansk’s face to protect his eyes in case he regained consciousness while she was out. Then she lay down beside him, one arm supporting her head and the other wrapped around his so she’d feel it if he moved.

And then she dreamt.

There was a familiar smell in the air, but she couldn’t tell what it was. Someone was in the kitchen, though, that much was clear by the clumsy banging coming from saloon-style swinging doors that led into it. This room… she’d been in it so many times but it looked too small, now. A photo of her brother before his diagnosis smiled back at her from the wall directly in front of where sat at the small dining table shoved into the corner– his freckles and red hair mirrored hers perfectly, but their faces couldn’t have been more different. Ronan was the carbon copy of their mom, Roisin; he’d even picked up notes of her Belfast accent before she died. 

A pair of voices laughing together carried into the room from the kitchen, before someone came into the dining-slash-living-room and dropped into the chair beside her.

“Mrs. Spence said if I don’t tell you to set the table, she’ll make a kid’s table just to make me sit by myself,” Kevin grinned at her, just as brightly as he always had.

Phoebe peeled her eyes away from the photo, “You know you can just call her Roisin, right?”

Kevin flinched away, “No way, your mom’s terrifying. And it’s a cultural thing anyway.”

“Oh, right.” She stood and tugged his arm to get him up. “C’mon, you can help carry the food in here.”

Time folded in on itself in the way dreams are wont to do, and before she knew it, Phoebe was pulling the front door to their small apartment open for whoever had just knocked.

No one was there. Well, no one at eye level. Her eyes dropped down and met Jake’s. He smiled up at her.

“Hey, man,” she stepped aside to let him wheel himself in. “Haven’t seen you since we got off the ISV.”

He took off his coat and hung it on the back of his wheelchair, “Sorry, I was making a trip to see Tommy’s urn. An aunt has it.”

“Yeah, I get that…”

Time slipped away again, and the four of them were now sitting together eating dinner.

“Phoebe, you never told me about Norm or Trudy.” Roisin’s voice sounded exactly how it had in her dad’s outdated harddrive. When Phoebe was older, she copied the whole thing onto her banged up laptop and would spend hours listening to the videos of her. It was all she had. Something about her voice now, though, felt fake. Digital. Like a generator had chewed up the data that made up her mom and spat out something passable.

Phoebe covered her mouth, embarrassed, “Mom!”

Except Roisin wasn’t there anymore. Kevin was gone, too. Jake’s wheelchair was gone, but he was still here. Standing . Then she blinked, and he was suddenly in his avatar. It looked different; older, dressed like a true Na’vi.

“You shouldn’t be here,” He stared at her with yellow eyes and an unreadable expression. His face was littered with cuts and bruises.

“What? What’s going on?”

He didn’t respond, only reaching down with his large blue hand. She squeezed her eyes shut just before he could touch her.

Spence’s eyes snapped open when her head slipped under the waves. Her body jumped into action before her sleep-addled mind, pulling her head up and coughing the water out of her mouth. If not for her hold on Mansk’s arm, he would've either drifted away or been drowned.

She pulled her arm to the surface to check her analog watch as the sun was setting. She didn’t even know how tides on Earth worked – she lived too far from the receding coastline to bother memorizing it – so there was no chance in hell she’d know how it was on Pandora, but it was obvious the tide had risen during her rest. It was nearly evening now, and the sun only had a few more hours to scorch them before it slipped below the horizon.

Along with lifting them up, the current had pulled them away from the rock they’d rested on, and they were now much closer to the concentration of debris from the shipwreck. Bits of broken metal, random items from the ship's interior, and even bodies drifted around them. Mostly human bodies. She knew a fair few Na’vi had been killed, but there weren’t nearly as many as she thought there should be.

“Mansk,” she shook his arm, careful not to push his head under the waves. The jacket she’d thrown over him was long gone. “Mansk,” she said again.

He responded after a few moments, but it was only a grunt from the back of his throat as his face scrunched in pain. Spence shook him again. “What…” he croaked, “What happened?” His voice was low and dry from dehydration.

“We lost,” Spence answered.

“How–” he coughed up some water he’d swallowed, “How bad?” He slowly opened his eyes, shutting them again almost immediately, before bringing a hand up to block the sunlight so he could look up at her.

“Bad.” She didn’t need to say more. It was all written on her face.

Mansk looked around at the destruction surrounding them, all that remained of their mission. “Fuck,” he muttered.

The fires had mostly gone out by now, and nothing of the ship itself was visible. It made him think of Earth; all this trash floating around looked like the oceans he saw on his way to deployments at home. He held fast onto that twinge of nostalgia. The only other option was to let grief and rage consume him, but he held it at a distance. There would be time for all that when they were safe in Bridgehead.

As he considered this, something caught his eye. With his recombinant eyes the way they were, it was difficult to make out in the harsh glare coming off the waves, but it seemed like one of the smaller boats that had been wrecked earlier in the battle. This one had managed to stay afloat, somehow. “We can’t stay in the water like this,” he turned to Spence and jerked his head toward the boat, but the motion triggered a wave of pain that nearly made him sick.

Spence had been watching him and noticed the change, “Are you okay?”

“My head…” He gritted his teeth and waited for the nausea to pass. Bobbing up and down in the water certainly wasn’t helping. “We need to get out of the water,” he continued, keeping his eyes shut tight. “There’s a boat over there.”

She nodded, pulling him in the direction of it, “Can you swim on your own? I can pull you.”

“You don’t need to—” he eyes opened when he felt her dragging him along behind her. He was going to protest that she let him swim for himself, but the words never left his mouth. 

The Eastern Sea is a warm, tropical sea, but the moment Spence hauled herself out of the water, the evening breeze passed right through her soaked clothes and chilled her to the bone. She shivered as she helped Mansk out of the water. “You wouldn’t happen to have any hand warmers?” Her tail shivered.

Mansk shook his head.

“We’ll have to strip, then, if we don’t wanna get sick,” her face fell as she said it; that’s something Ja would say. She wished he were here. “Put ‘em out to dry, sleep real close.” She sighed. The levity wasn’t working this time, “Y’know, the whole romcom setup.”

“Uh-huh,” another twinge of nostalgia hit him, but this one wasn’t quite so negative. Not negative at all, actually – quite positive, in fact – but he pushed it down just like everything else. He wasn’t gonna be the guy who fell for his ex a second time, and sure as hell not after her new boyfriend(s) died. And they were his friends, too.

They lay on their backs in silence for a long time after that, watching the colors shift in the sky through hues that had been washed out on Earth since before they were born. Only when the sun had slipped completely below the horizon and the bright, foreign constellations revealed themselves did they close the distance to press their bodies together against the chilled night with a familiarness hidden deep in their soul drives. It had been warm for the entire span of this mission, but tonight was cold. Maybe Eywa felt the death that happened here and was responding appropriately. They hadn’t seen any birds since, either.

Despite it all, they both found themselves equally surprised when the exhaustion crept up on them once more.

There it was, just barely a glimmer on the darkened horizon, but there was nothing else it could be. As the meters slipped away beneath him, he could also see a smog surrounding that glimmer. Bridgehead City, no doubt about it. He thumbed the buttons over his throat; he should be within radio range by now.

“Control, come in control. This is Lieutenant Lyle Wainfleet, Blue One. Over,” his was low and hoarse, and he spoke slowly. He’d flown for hours on end with stopping, and it was getting to him.

Minutes passed without reply. By the time he could see the outline of the half-constructed city, he’d begun to think his comms were busted. “Lieutenant,” General Ardmore finally answered. “Colonel Quaritch arrived just ahead of you. Report to the control room as soon as you land.” No ‘welcome back!’ or ‘you’re alive,’ just a short and monotone order.

He grunted into the empty sky and turned Buttercup toward the admin building.

“An entire SeaDragon,” Ardmore’s voice was tense and clipped in a way that gave away the intense anger she was holding back. She stood with her back to Lyle and Quaritch, both of whom were battered, bruised, exhausted, and openly bleeding onto the floor. “A whole ship, every man, woman, and dollar I entrusted you with. Even worse, you lost the amrita.”

“Ma’am, if I may–”

Lyle fell silent as she raised her hand. “I wasn’t finished.” When she turned to face them, chills ran down their spines. She terrified them even when they stood at nearly twice her height; Lyle got the sense that had they met as humans, the effect would be the exact same.

“You failed to kill Jake Sully,” she continued, “or his wife, or any other Resistance agent. You even managed to lose your only hostage, one who I am aware carries sensitive information ,” her cold blue eyes snapped up to Quaritch, glaring up at him past the brim of her hat.

He avoided her gaze and stared straight down at the floor. A thousand emotions hid behind his eyes while his mouth stayed in a flat line. There was nothing he could say to make this better.

“Unbelievable,” she said when it became apparent he wouldn’t answer. “Have you nothing to say for yourselves? Just wallowing in your self pity.”

“Mansk and Spence are alive,” Lyle blurted out, not waiting for permission to speak. “Injured and stranded, but alive. Let us pick them up.”

She tilted her head and managed to look down her nose at them despite the difference in height, “How can you be sure they aren’t a lost cause?”

“Their trackers,” Quaritch suddenly looked up. “Monitor them for movement. If they’re alive, they’ll pick up and move as soon as they’re able.”

She narrowed her eyes, then waved her hand at a nearby tech to do what he said. Eight glowing dots with name tags attached were scattered within a small area between island groups. Two of them were closest together. The dot labeled ‘SPIDER’ was offline, its last transmitted location within the same field as the others; He must have found and smashed his tracker after escaping the sinking ship.

“There,” Lyle pointed at the two close together, “I left them on a rock near here.”

Quaritch stepped toward the screen, looking first over the names of comrades he knew had died, and then at Spider’s. “General,” he turned  back to look at her, “let us recover them. Whether you want to quit chasing Sully or not, you can’t risk them falling into his hands. Not with what they know.” He paused, almost thinking better of what he was about to say next, before continuing, “Deploy the copies of the rest of the squad. With full ranks and training, we can get it done.” 

Her eyes narrowed. “I’ll think about it, Colonel. Now get patched up. You’re bleeding on my floor.”

A bright new day. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, and… one of the vests had fallen off the boat during the night, taking a hydration pack with it. 

Mansk was still asleep. Spence spent at least an hour watching the waves for any sign of the damn thing, but it was no use. Her and Mansk’s rifles had gone down with the ship, and without their scopes, she had no hope of seeing how far it had drifted; not without getting in the water and searching manually. That would waste too much energy, though, and that was assuming she wouldn’t get eaten by something lurking in the depths first. Their remaining water was nearly empty. She’d been greedy with it the morning before the battle, and had never had a chance to refill it. “Fuck me,” she muttered to herself. This will barely last the afternoon .

With no food or water, and no means of escape, there was nothing to do but wait. She just had to sit there and hope Ardmore would actually mount a rescue mission. If she weren’t sitting half-naked in the middle of an unfamiliar ocean and staring out at the wreckage of the night her life turned upside-down, it would almost be a little funny. Fat fucking chance that snake would ever risk precious resources for two fuck-ups that just barely managed to survive a mission gone belly up. Billion dollar fuck-ups. They’d have to bring Spence back thousands of times before she got anywhere near paying off that debt.

She could hear Mansk stirring behind where she sat at the stern of the boat. She ignored it, too consumed in her own thoughts. She was busy weighing whether dying of thirst would be preferable to whatever reprimanding Ardmore had in store for her if – ‘when’ felt too optimistic – she got back to base, when a hand on her shoulder startled her.

“Our clothes are dry,” Mansk said. As if it hadn’t already become obvious to her by the simple fact he was now dressed.

“Oh.”

“And my vest is gone.”

“...I know.” Her ears drooped in shame, like it was in any way her fault. “You can have the rest of my water. You need it more with your concussion.”

He furrowed his brow, “No, it’s yours.”

“It won’t last long enough anyway, so just take it. I’m not arguing.”

He sighed, but didn’t respond for a while, just looked at her. She wasn’t looking at him. She didn’t see how dread pulled at his features and weighed down his shoulders.

“There’s something you should see,” he finally said.

Spence’s ears perked up and she followed him up to the bow of the boat. He pointed out across the water, and she could just make out a body drifting along, bobbing up and down with the waves. A body with a spear jutting out of it.

“Oh, god.” She’d seen a few blue corpses already, but they were clearly reef Na’vi. This one, however…

“At first I just thought it was a rogue forest Na’vi like Jake, or maybe that kid that was killed, but this one– Hey!” He called out after her when she suddenly dove into the water, “Spence!”

Desperation and adrenaline were the only things keeping her aching muscles above the water. The gash in her side screamed, but she couldn’t stop. Mansk’s voice calling out to her was drowned out by the blood rushing in her ears and the singular goal that now lay just a few yards in front of her. Their skin blended in almost perfectly with the sea, to the point that she lost sight of them a few times.

Even as she reached them, floating face-down, she held out some hope that it wasn’t him. Her throat felt swollen shut, her heart like a grenade with the pin pulled out. Even if it wasn’t who she thought, the gear made it undeniable that it was one of her own. This was going to hurt no matter what.

Her hands trembled when she reached out to grip their shoulder. Their skin was ice cold.

She took a long, shaky breath, then turned them over.

Numb. That’s all he felt for the moment. Numbness, and a muted fear that he would come to regret the decision he made yesterday. That’s what was going on in his head, anyway, and in his heart. The cut across his chest stung like hell.

Spider rubbed the edge of the wound absent-mindedly as he stared out at the seawall terraces that protected Awa’atlu. Yalna didn’t grow out here, and whatever they had treated the cut with hurt way more than yalna bark. He didn’t know what this ointment was called; he hadn’t been paying attention when Kiri helped him patch it up, for he couldn’t stop staring at the blood that still covered Lo’ak’s hands.

And then they held Neteyam’s funeral. The Metkayina had been going back and forth searching for what dead and wounded they could find and then returning, so the memorials were practically non-stop. Even now, on the other side of the village, more Na’vi were being put to rest. Ronal decreed that no Sky People, even the ones who just wanted to help – which is to say, all of them – were not allowed to attend the funerals, with Jake being the only exception. She’d hissed when she said his name, though.

It was the next day, now, and Spider could tell the most recent funeral had just ended by the increased activity he could hear throughout the village. There was no buzz to it, just a sort of dull drone of The People going about daily chores. They were all so worn down by the anguish and torment that most people hardly said a thing. They’d technically won, but the cost was too high. Everyone knew someone who now lay with Eywa.

Only the handful of people – mostly avatar drivers – that had come from High Camp were in high enough spirits to go about their day with any semblance of normalcy. They were mainly tasked with tending to the wounded, be it animal or Na’vi. Norm, in particular, was entertaining the children too young to remember all of this when they were older, but he made sure to check on the Sullys and Spider as often as he could. Tonowari and Jake, meanwhile, mobilized the hunters and warriors. No one left the seawall without them knowing. No one travelled alone. 

Jake was tired of sitting around. When Tommy died, he didn’t take the time to mourn, he went straight to Pandora. When Grace died, he threw himself into the war effort. Jake Sully did not sit and sulk. Neteyam was dead. His first son, his baby boy, was gone. Tonowari wouldn’t approve of him going out so soon after what happened, but fuck, he had to. Every part of him itched to do something, anything, that didn’t involve people looking at him with pitiful expressions.

Likewise, Spider wanted nothing more than to contribute. This was all his fault; Kiri had stated the opposite, but he knew that wasn’t true. From the moment the RDA returned and contacted Hell’s Gate everything that had gone wrong revolved around him, starting with his own foster parents betraying them all. It was always parents, wasn’t it?

Speaking of which, he had just spotted Jake walking across the woven pathways to the Sully’s marui from where he dangled his legs over the edge of the dock— his human body was too short for his feet to reach the water. 

“Hey, Jake,” Spider said as he reached the marui. It took longer than he would have liked, as he still wasn’t used to walking on sand.

Jake, who was facing away from him, startled at the sudden sound of his voice. He cringed when he realized how obvious it was that he was on edge. “Jesus, Spider,” he turned his body to face him, revealing that he had been servicing his rifle.

Spider stared at it for a long moment before bringing his eyes back up to Jake’s, “Are you going outside the reef?"

A weary sigh left Jake, “Yes.”

“Take me with you.”

“No,” Jake’s tone was immediately more severe, “you stay here.”

Spider wasn’t having it, “None of this would have happened if it weren’t for me! If you don’t let me help, how the hell am I supposed to make up for all this?” His eyes stung, and he realized he was beginning to tear up. He felt so stupid for being upset. He had no right to.

Jake’s eyes softened. It was hard for him to remember sometimes that his own family was the most consistent one Spider had ever had, even when he was reluctant to accept the kid as part of it. He’s always been like a big brother to his kids. “Hey, no,” Jake said, quieter. “It’s not your fault.”

“Stop– just stop saying that. Everyone fucking says that.” Spider’s breaths were fogging up his mask.

“Okay.” He never was very good at comforting people.

They let the air between them hang empty for a bit. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, per se, but it wasn’t exactly comfortable either.

Spider finally collected himself and crossed his arms across his chest, “You’re not gonna let me go, are you?”

“No.” Jake knelt and put his hand on Spider’s shoulder, “Can you do me a favor, though? Keep an eye on the prisoner. You know ‘em, maybe they’ll talk.”

He’d been trying not to think about that. Someone had grabbed them, a young hunter, when the Metkayina retreated from the battle. No one had told them what was going on, and none of the Na’vi guarding them spoke any English. The prisoner couldn’t understand the reef Na’vi dialect either, so they were in the dark. And they’d been starving them; they refused to talk when interrogated, so they were being punished. Killing them outright would be too great a mercy for one of the demons that caused so much death. 

Spider nodded.

Spence couldn’t even scream. She wanted to scream, to cry, to grab her past self by the shoulders and make sure she never signed those god-forsaken Project Phoenix consent forms. But she couldn’t do any of that. She was frozen. 

Prager’s dull, blank eyes stared blindly up at the sky. His skin was pallid and cold, and his face was frozen in the pain of his last moments. The blood had congealed around the spear that stuck out of his chest; he died quickly.

She needed to get him out of the water. It was only right that he and everyone else killed yesterday be laid to rest next to the others they’d lost. If she didn’t find them now, they would sink.

Mansk helped her lift him into the boat when Spence finally returned. Her face was expressionless. She immediately got to work breaking the ends off the spear so Prager would better fit in the boat, and laying him on his side in a way that looked comfortable and not like a broken doll. She hadn’t so much as looked at Mansk. 

She was holding Prager’s dog tags between her thumb and forefinger. Catholic , they said, engraved underneath his name and blood type. Or where his blood type should be, anyway; it just said ‘Recombinant’ instead. It reduced him to nothing more than the blue of his skin.

Spence tugged the chain from his neck and held them up for Mansk to see, “Did you know he still believed in God?” It was the first thing she’d said in the tense minutes since diving into the water. Her voice shook. Prager had never told her that, even when they were human.

Mansk looked at the thin metal plates that dangled from her fingers. “I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Never came up, I guess.” He didn’t understand why, in a situation like this, she chose to focus on that.

If God’s real , he thought, we must be in hell .

He was scared. Terrified. Not of the Na’vi, or that they wouldn’t be rescued – though of course those were on his mind too – but for Spence. There was something unreadable in her expression since retrieving Prager’s body, and it unnerved him. He kept one eye on their surroundings in case anyone approached and the other on her, watching as she stood and dressed herself. She shoved the tags into her pocket and then, seemingly fearing she would lose them, took her own off and strung them onto the same chain as hers. 

The gash in her side wasn’t bleeding freely anymore, but her shirt stuck to the wound and was dyed red where it was still wet. Mansk stared at the stained fabric.

“I could call for Tomahawk,” he suddenly suggested.

Spence paused. She was kneeling next to Prager again, fingers working to loosen the knot of his bandana; if there was any chance he had to be left behind, she needed these little pieces of who he was. She needed them.

“Is he still alive?” She said when she finally turned to him.

“Maybe,” Mansk answered, “I won’t know if I don’t try.”

Her lips formed a flat line. “He couldn’t carry all three of us.” She looked from Mansk to Prager, then back again, “And there’s your head. Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“We have to do something. This boat isn’t safe, we’re sitting ducks.”

Spence went quiet. He could tell she was weighing the fact they would have to leave Prager behind– leave all of them behind. 

After a long moment with no response, Mansk stood. There was a good chance his ikran had escaped the battle. He was probably just hunkering down on one of the Three Brothers, or one of the other islands that dotted the horizon. With this in mind, he put two fingers in his mouth and whistled as loud and as clear as he could.

Three ilu glided smoothly through the water, their riders stern and silent. Jake led the trio with the other two tailing behind him, each with a small boat tied their mounts. He didn’t know them well. One of their names had already slipped his mind, and the other he only knew because she had been the one to capture the prisoner. Fìrfyan, her name was. Barely older than his own kids, she was just a young hunter. He could see the fear in her face when she returned to Awa’atlu with an unconscious recombinant she managed to capture alive. He’d yelled at her for it, for not killing them outright, but even he had had his doubts about killing other human soldiers when he first joined the Marines. To her, that demon looked too much like another Na’vi; he’d felt the same at her age.

Once he’d calmed down, he realized how valuable of a prisoner they were. He barely managed to convince Tonowari and Ronal to let them live. Jake was prepared to torture the information he needed out of them if needed, the intel on the RDA was simply too valuable to let slip away like that. They eventually agreed with him.

They were coming up on the wreckage of the SeaDragon now– or rather, the field of debris that floated above where it sank. It was far enough from the Three Brothers that any survivors would likely have drowned if they tried to swim to it. Or so Jake hoped, anyway.

There had been enough back-and-forth to the battlefield now that pretty much all of the Metkayina’s dead had been recovered, but a final few sweeps were deemed necessary. The three of them were about to split up to search the battlefield once more.

Then they heard it.

Jake raised his hand for them to stop.

“ What is that? ” Fìrfyan nervously looked left, right, and up for the source of the noise.

He looked up as well, but there was not a single thing in the sky except for the imposing figure of Naranawm and its other moons. On the surface he saw no movement except for that of the waves themselves. There were a few of the smaller boats that remained floating, but surely…

After a minute of silently waiting and watching, they heard it again. A high-pitched wolf whistle, as clear as day, with the exact recognizable tone that anyone raised on Earth would use. It had to be a recom, likely calling for their ikran, but who? One was in the village, and he and Neytiri had dispatched the rest, except…

Jake’s heart skipped a beat. Without a word to his companions, he sped off through the water to check each and every vessel and scrap of debris that still floated on the surface. In the chaos of the past 24 hours, he’d nearly forgotten about the woman that looked so much like Spence. There was no way it was her, right? She’d wanted to leave with him and the rest, with Trudy, why would she ever go back on that and turn her own rifle on him? They were so close before that last week.

Unless she changed her mind, betrayed her friends, turned her back on everything she believed in– for what, the RDA, humanity? Hell, was it just for whatever projected fatherly feelings she put onto Quaritch? This put it all into a new perspective for Jake. She was responsible for his son’s death, whether she pulled the trigger or not, but he didn’t want to believe it, he couldn’t.

As he approached the last boat he had yet to check, his hand stiffened around his rifle. He hoped she wasn’t here. Let her be far away from here, or dead— No. The moment the thought crossed his mind, he regretted it. He did not want her to be dead. In a perfect world, she would have lived through the battle 16 years ago and stayed on Pandora with him and Norm. That was impossible now. But still, a tiny glimmer of hope appeared before him: if Spence was here, alive, maybe she wasn’t too far gone. Maybe, just maybe, she could still join them.

“Spence,” Mansk hissed. He had just hurriedly ducked below the side of the boat.

She was still sitting beside Prager, gripping his cold hand. Her eyes had gone out of focus while they waited for Mansk’s ikran to respond, but now her head snapped up. “Hm?”

“There’s a–”

Mansk had seen him too late to give a proper warning. He stared down the aft of the boat where a reef girl stared at them wide-eyed. It wasn’t the one he’d tied up on the ship the day before, she seemed a bit older. They made silent, startled eye contact for a moment before she fumbled for the speargun slung around her shoulder, having seemingly forgotten it existed. Spence reluctantly released Prager’s hand and lifted her own in surrender.

The girl yelled something in Na’vi that was too thickly accented for either of them to understand, and within a matter of seconds, another Na’vi and Jake Sully were in front of them.

All the air seemed to leave Spence’s lungs as she locked eyes with him. She missed him so much. She was terrified of him. He was pointing his rifle at them.

“You shouldn’t be here,” He stared at her with yellow eyes and an unreadable expression. His face was littered with cuts and bruises.

Chapter Text

The man in the mask stood in the center of the harshly lit examination room. He still wore the thin hospital gown that covered his form, which was much taller and thinner than he was used to, but he’d found something to cover his face. The first thing he’d done when he awoke in this new body was slap a hand over his fanged mouth and yell at the doctors that stood at half his height until someone finally brought him something to cover it with. He hadn’t even bothered to look in the mirror to see if those scars had disappeared along with his humanity. He didn’t need to.

Right now the doctor — a different one this time, an avatar driver — was watching the heart monitor make jagged lines in response to Connor’s pulse. He was the youngest soldier admitted into Project Phoenix and the least experienced by a mile, but got in on a glowing recommendation from his commanding officer; the very CO that stood a few feet away in a mask and gown, Colonel Taeyang Anderson. 

Colonel Anderson eyed the avatar warily. He’d never much liked the Avatar Program, they were far too fond of the Na’vi and far too incompetent when it came to defending themselves, but their company was usually preferable to the crass miners or clueless recruits that filed off the shuttles every few months. The recruits were what Anderson hated the most, and exactly why Quaritch had assigned him and his squad to oversee them every six months out of pure spite for him. Now, though, the Anderson Squad would be known as Blue Three, and finally assigned to combat missions. His finger twitched in anticipation of their first assignment.

Dr. Castello muttered something to himself in what may have been Spanish, switched back to English to tell Connor he was perfectly healthy, then said something else in Na’vi to the one that sat in the corner.

Their eyes never left Anderson. Though he’d only just met this new batch of recoms, Zu’ap had spent enough time with the others to be able to tell which ones were the worst of the worst. So far only two had appeared as they filed in one by one. The one Castello had greeted as Private Dragunov seemed nice and curious, but the one with a mask and tattooed neck sent an unexplainable chill down his spine. The face tattooed on his neck was, to Zu’ap, just as ghoulish and demonic as the recoms themselves. It almost made Anderson as terrifying as Quaritch, who’d beaten him half to death. Almost.

Connor bounded over to Anderson like a newborn deer, still not used to his new body. “It’s good to see you, Colonel.” He was all easy smiles and bright eyes, more excited than anyone else to get a second chance at life.

No one could ever help but to smile when Connor was around. No one ever saw Colonel Anderson smiling on account of the mask, but you could ever so slightly see his eyes crinkle— if you knew what to look for. 

“Morning, Dragunov,” it was a stale response on the surface, but his tone gave him away. He had a special soft spot for the youngest member of his squad. “Feeling okay?” As a human, his voice was soft and hoarse due to injuries he’d sustained. He still spoke quietly out of sheer habit.

“Yeah! Doc says I’m all good to go. I’m just worried these hands will be too big to do all that maintenance on our gear Connor turned them over in front of himself, “but I’m excited to see how tech has progressed while we were gone.” He spoke like he hadn’t just found out he had been dead for sixteen years. This was just another Tuesday for him. “What about everyone else?”

“They’ll be here soon,” Anderson said simply. Some of his teammates were as easy as Connor, like Chloe, but others… 

Speak of the devil. The glass door slid open, and in walked Hell’s Gate’s most infamous Corporal. Freddie Chase was, to put it quite simply, fucking insane. There had been rumors when he first showed up that the CIA hired him for “advanced interrogation,” which is to say he tortured prisoners for them, and that he’d liked it . He was a loose cannon, and no one wanted him on their squad— except for Colonel Anderson. He saw potential in him, in his capacity for violence. That was something they would need now more than ever.

Freddie’s persona was deceptive. He happily admitted to his squad that rumors of his occupation were true, and that truth was reflected by his actions in the field, but you wouldn’t guess it right off the bat. He was like a darker reflection of Connor, all lighthearted and devil-may-care. They were both rather oblivious too, but where Connor had the demeanor of a puppy, Freddie was a wolf stalking its prey. He didn’t feel emotion in the same way others did, but he could mimic them near-flawlessly.

“Guess who?” Freddie had snuck up behind Connor, silent on his Na’vi feet. His fangs seemed to suit his trademark wicked grin perfectly.

Connor gasped and reached up to touch the hands that covered his eyes. “Freddie? It sounds like you.”

“Bingo!” He released his eyes and spun him around, clapping him on the shoulder. “I like the ears, kid. Can finally tell what you’re thinking.”

“Technically, we’re the same age now,” Connor pointed out.

Freddie slung his arm around Connor’s neck and tugged him down into a headlock, pressing his knuckles into his soft black hair, “Nope! You’re still this squad’s baby, Connor.” He giggled until he lost his balance from holding Connor, tilting over and slamming them both into a counter.

Castello came over and helped them up before pushing Freddie over to the equipment. “Enough! Quit crowding my lab and go down the hall, your things are in the locker room. Chase, you stay here. Everyone gets a checkup before being cleared for duty.”

Freddie whined and sat on the examination table. He jumped when he finally noticed Zu’ap, “Oh, what the fuck is that doing here?”

“That’s Zu’ap,” Castello furrowed his brow. “You will not bother him. Do you understand, Corporal?”

The recom gave him a look that neither Castello nor Zu’ap could decipher, but it didn’t seem good. There was a darkness behind his teal eyes that seemed even more malevolent than either Anderson or Quaritch. “Understood,” he finally replied after a few moments.

Anderson had never heard of General Ardmore in his life. In all fairness, she wasn’t a General back then and would have been around 10 years younger than him, too — even though she was now older than him, technically — but he wasn’t too thrilled to be working under someone else. Not that he liked answering to Quaritch, either. Sure, the three Colonels formed a Holy Trinity of military command, but it was always clear which of them was really in charge. That was made even more apparent when Quaritch commandeered MinOps’ blasting agents to blow up that stupid glowing tree without informing either Ripper or Anderson about it until they were scrambling to get every man and woman under their commands into the air. Even Ripper would be preferable to take orders from, which was saying a lot .

He heard them before he saw them. The General’s voice is cool and level in comparison to the bite of Quaritch yelling at her, though it is clear by the edge in her tone that this is grating on her. Why doesn’t she clap back at him? Anderson had never seen Quaritch get a good reprimanding, it would humble him after so long of being the highest in the chain. He’d pay to see that— what was it Dr. Augustine had told Selfridge, ‘ You need to muzzle your dog ’? The man needed it.

Anderson slipped into the command room quietly, barely noticed by either Quaritch or Ardmore, but he certainly took notice of them. Ardmore stood calmly below the Colonel, mouth flat and eyes narrow as she listened to Quaritch whine and complain, only occasionally responding when he stopped to catch his breath. Maybe she allows it because he’s the only one left, Anderson wondered, until now, anyway. Quaritch, meanwhile, was in a sorry state. He was bandaged and bruised from head to toe. Even his tail, which swished angrily behind him causing the humans to keep a large distance away, was set awkwardly and wrapped in a cast.

Anderson had heard some of the doctors mumbling to each other about how Blue One had gotten too Na’vi before they were wiped out, and that it had been their downfall. This made it plain as day.

“You said it yourself, General, there are extra copies of my team. Pull them outta the freezer, even just half of ‘em, and we can extract Spence and Mansk.” Ardmore might not catch it, but Anderson had known Quaritch for far too long to miss the way desperation colored his voice. “Not redeploying them after the ambush I can understand, but now? They’re living on borrowed time.”

Ardmore’s head tilted ever so slightly, expression unchanged, as she rolled his words over in her mind. She caught onto his emotions after all, it seemed. “Why would I risk that? If they aren’t dead already, which they probably are based on their trackers’ positions not moving, this mission could go FUBAR just like your last one.” She takes her hands off her hips and crosses her arms, even more exhausted by trying to placate this big blue baby that stood before her. “It’s as you say. Even if we sent you out, they would be dead before you arrived. It would be simpler to just pull them out of cryo now instead of going to the trouble. Three Brothers is too far afield in enemy territory to even try recovering those bodies.

Without warning, Quaritch lowered himself to one knee to meet Ardmore’s eyes.

Begging? Anderson nearly snorted. Never in his life — lives — did he think he would see Miles Quaritch beg for anything, ever. He needed to tell Ripper, she’d get a kick out of it. Oh, yes, they were never going to let him live this down.

Yellow eyes bore into blue ones, the same shade Quaritch’s had been when he was human. “There is too much at stake here, General. I have too much at stake.” He couldn’t stoop to the level required to actually beg her, or even to say please. It was shameful.

“Exactly, Colonel.” Her eyes flick over to Anderson, signaling that she knew he was here the whole time and that it was time for him to approach. “I believe it’s time I hand the reins over to someone who can keep a cool head. With Ripper off-base, that falls to our third Colonel,” She nods to Anderson, who now stands just a few feet away with his hands clasped behind his back at attention.

Quaritch turns and his eyes widen. “Taeyang, cool-headed? You gotta be kiddin’ me. He threw more tantrums than anyone at Hell’s Gate,” he spat as he stood to face him. 

“It seems like you have me beat on that front here at Bridgehead,” Anderson retorted. He caught Stringer smiling to himself before quickly covering it up.

“General,” Quaritch looked back down to Ardmore, “surely you’re aware of all the scandals he involved himself in. Beating up his own sergeant after having an affair with him for months hardly even takes the cake.”

“I am. His relationship with Sergeant Barquilla at home is hardly my concern. What matters is how well they work together, which I believe is quite well. Isn’t that right, Colonel?”

Anderson gives a curt nod.

“There you have it.”

“General,” Quaritch’s voice dropped the despair it held moments before and was now as tense as a thread resting on a knife’s edge, “You’re making a mistake here.”

Behind the mask, Anderson’s lips pull back into a self-satisfied smirk. Quaritch was really about to lose it. And to top it all off, he was finally above him! He didn’t give two shits about saving those two, it was his own damn fault his entire squad was either dead or missing.

Some movement caught his eye. The screen to Ardmore’s left had displayed a map covered with dots throughout the altercation. Anderson hadn’t paid it any mind until two dots began to move. He saw that all of them were labeled with some of the names of Blue One, the six who had been killed in the battle before Blue Three was thawed out, and two of them — Cpl Spence and PFC Mansk — were now inching across the screen. The others in the room caught him staring and looked, seeing what he saw. 

Quaritch’s breath caught in his throat. “General–”

“I see it. Fine, change of plans.” She clenched her jaw, “Stringer, get the strategists in here. You two,” she looked between the two Colonels, “fly Blue Three out to get banshees. You’ll need them, I’m not giving you another ship to sink.

He swallowed thickly and nodded.

Anderson’s head buzzed. Barely an hour out of the tank and they already had a mission. “When do we fly out?”

“I want your team trained , I will not have a repeat of Blue One. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, sir.” Anderson didn’t know exactly what incident she meant, but given what had just happened days prior, he could guess. “What of Blue Two?”

She hesitated, contemplating it, before shaking her head slightly. “No. No Ripper Squad. If this goes tits up again, I need at least one team intact, and they’re clearing the way for construction besides.”

“Ma’am, if I–” Quaritch started, but was promptly cut off again.

“Like I just said, Colonel.” Her tone was snappy like a parent scolding a child, “I am not wasting the resources. But I do want this op to succeed, and I’m feeling generous.”

His ears pricked up in anticipation. Anderson noticed the involuntary motion, filing it away along with his bare feet and expressive tail. It was curious, to say the least, that a few short months could make Miles Quaritch of all people so… blue . It was more believable coming from Jake Sully.

“You get two soldiers off ice. Choose wisely, you won’t get another chance like this.”

“Yes. Thank you, ma’am.” His fists were balled at his sides. 

Choose? How could he choose which of his comrades were worthy enough to live? He could ask Lyle, but he was just biased as he was. His eyes drifted over to Anderson. No, no. He couldn’t ask him, couldn’t give him the satisfaction; it already felt like a miracle that Ardmore gave him the choice as opposed to Anderson, seeing as he was in charge now. In charge. Fuck. He turned and made for the door before being dismissed, leaving Anderson and the General to their own devices. 

If Spence were here, she’d be the one he asked. But she was gone, set adrift. Her tracker was moving, but that could mean anything. In a creature’s stomach, caught in a current, seeking dry land, captured… He didn’t know if he preferred the dead or hostage options.

The last recom, Chloe Caven, finally left the medbay. She was an odd one, totally unexpressive, but most of this third squad was weird. Castello did like the less-angry Sergeant, Umi Kuboyama, though. Don’t get him wrong, they were equally as eccentric as the others, but they were also a fellow Muslim, and that brought Castello some comfort. They didn’t get to talk about it for long while he ran the necessary tests, but he hoped that he could ask them later if they could do their salat together from time to time.

Castello finished cleaning the workspace and turned to Zu’ap, “ What did you think of them, habibi?” He paused as the nickname slipped out. Its Na'vi translation, yawne , quickly popped into his head; chéri, querido, beloved. Santo cielo, when did he come to think of him that way? He didn’t even know if that’s what he really felt, or if it was a slip of the tongue.

No, he couldn’t anyway. Whether he wanted him in that way or not. Castello was, after all, basically his prison warden. 

Zu’ap finally ventured into the rest of the room from the corner he’d spent the day receding into. “ Some of them seemed… strange. Even for a tawtute. Most of them scared me. ”

“ Scared you? ” He was thankful that Zu’ap didn’t seem to pick up on his momentary flusteredness. “ How so? ”

“ The masked one, and the laughing one after him. The angry one. Then that empty girl. ” He paused for a second, knitting his brows together, “ How do you say it? Empty?” His lips formed the English word slowly, unfamiliarly, in the same way he did when discovering unfamiliar plants away from home in his youth.

“Empty,” Castello repeated. “What do you mean empty ?”

Zu’ap shook his head, making the beads in his hair click together. “ Even demons seem like one of the people at first, but not her. She felt wrong. ”

Castello was perplexed. She seemed monotonous, sure, but he figured she was just like that. Her demeanor might have averaged out the strong personalities of the others. He didn’t know her well enough to know if something was incomplete mentally, but her scans came out squeaky clean. He would ask their squad, next he encountered them, if she seemed different. Maybe Zu’ap’s intuition was just wrong.

He hoped it was wrong, or they could have a much bigger problem on their hands.

Freddie dropped himself onto the couch between Kuboyama and Connor with a huff. They had been sitting rather close together, so he was more sitting on them than he was the couch. He clutched a human-sized bottle of water in his hands so tightly that it was about to burst.

“Remind me to never get hurt so I never have to go to that Dr. Castwhatever guy again,” he spat.

Connor shifted over so he was no longer underneath Freddie, “You didn’t like him? He seemed nice.”

“Nice? Try freak . He’s got one of those blue monkeys in there as, what, a pet? Is it a sex thing?”

“If anyone on this base is a freak, Chase, it’s you,” Kuboyama replied as they shoved him off.

Freddie grinned from ear to ear, “Well yeah, but at least I take pride in it. And I’m only a weird pervert with my own species, thank you very much.”

Kuboyama rolled their eyes, “Your kinks are the most normal thing about you. 

“Oh I know. Anything I can do with a knife is more exciting than anything I can do with my pants off anyway… Unless now that we’re blue we have like–”

“Shut the fuck up,” a voice growled behind them.” Why did they have to bring me back just to listen to these three talk about Freddie’s freak habits?”

The three of them turned around to see Barquilla hunched over the dining table with a mug of coffee between his fists. “When did you slip in? Haven’t seen you.”

“After Freddie. Can’t believe that bastard Taeyang didn’t wait around for either of us before going to the General.” Just the thought of him made Barquilla want to deck him the moment he returned.

Kuboyama hummed as they always did when Barquilla was about to go on one of his curse-filled rants. Their own resurrection made them realize they should do some introspection, but he was completely unchanged; Freddie was no different either, so maybe it was just a Kuboyama thing. “Well, it’s nice that you don’t smell like cigarette smoke at all times anymore. Though, I would’ve noticed you sooner if you did.”

Barquilla grimaced and held his pointer and middle fingers up to his lips. “Exactly, look at what’s wrong with this picture! Indigo skin and no fag in my hands. It’s all wrong.”

“If you hadn’t gotten into so many fights with our dear Colonel, you could have a different kind of fag in your hands right now,” Freddie quipped.

Barquilla unclipped his knife from the sheath on his thigh and threw it at Freddie’s head, who narrowly dodged it with a cackle. It lodged itself into the other couch.

Anderson, who’d just entered, put his hand on his hip. “Freddie, shut up. Barquilla, I’ll let you explain that one to Quaritch, I don’t care enough.”

“There you are, Tae,” Barquilla greeted him with the pleasantness of a spider’s bite. He always made sure to separate the vowels when he used that nickname so that it sounded like “shit” in Tagalog; he barely even spoke that language, his father was Cebuano. “Y’know ya don’t need the dumb mask anymore, yeah?” His accent was fairly neutral for someone primarily raised in Australia, but it did seem to grow stronger when was slinging insults, like now.

“What will you do, Barquilla? Rip it from my face again?”

“Well at least this time you don’t have those ugly scars to throw a fit about everyone seeing.

Anderson gave a sharp, hoarse laugh. “You said you liked them,” he said in a way that would be perceived as flirtatious if he hadn’t delivered it with such a cold boredom that froze his hoarse voice over.

The comeback was just on the tip of Barquilla’s tongue, locked and loaded and coated with acid, but he held it back. Someone else had just entered the building, and it wasn’t Quaritch or Wainfleet. He stood up, “Chloe.”

She blinked. None of them knew Na’vi were even capable of having such strikingly blonde hair, yet hers reflected the fluorescent lights of the common room almost like gold. “Hello,” her voice was strangely flat, and she seemed to catch onto this as she followed it up with an awkward smile.

Freddie leaped up from his spot and ran over to her, slamming her into a hug so hard it almost took them both to the ground. “You’re late.”

She was stiff until, one by one, her arms encircled Freddie to return the embrace and her face finally softened. Each gesture happened individually like she couldn’t quite remember how they went together, how she would return the affection of her best friend. “Sorry, I got a bit lost.”

Freddie was none the wiser to whatever was going on with her, and the others just thought that it might be a temporary side effect. After all, Dr. Castello wouldn’t have cleared her if something was wrong, right?”

Anderson cleared his throat. “Now that we’re all here, I can tell you what we’re actually here to do. Sit down.”

The actual rescue plan hadn’t been formed yet, but that wasn’t about to stop Blue Three from launching themselves into preparing for it. The first step: transportation. With a lack of support from the General due to Quaritch’s utter failure as a leader, they would have to fly themselves the three klicks out to some islands in the middle of nowhere ocean. At least out there, there was no immune response from Eywa that would sic every known horror on this godforsaken moon down onto the recoms. No, they just had the regular old Na’vi to worry about out there, maybe the occasional aquatic creature. Light work.

Their first day in the woods was dedicated to familiarizing themselves with the terrain and their bodies. Quaritch and Lyle went out with them; with Spider gone, they were the next best thing. They could always pull Zu’ap out of Jude’s custody and make him come along for the ride, but he was more of a liability than anything. He barely understood English, anyhow.

If more people had made it back from the massacre that was the confrontation with Sully’s forces in the Eastern Sea, they could have skipped the “stairway to heaven” entirely and flown to the banshee nesting grounds. But, alas. Two banshees can’t carry eight recoms, so climbing it had to be. Just another thing for Anderson to add to the list of grudges he would hold against Quaritch.

Shakily pulling himself over the edge of the final link in the long chain of floating islands they’d just ascended, Anderson sank to his knees to collect himself. At least the view was nice, but it would be nicer if he hadn’t nearly fallen twice on the way up. That surely would have killed him. Another hand appeared over the edge, scrambling for purchase on the loose rocks. He grabbed it and heaved before even checking who it was— there was no worrying that it was Quaritch or his man since those two abandoned Anderson’s squad to fly to the top without them. At least he could tell by the shade of the blue of their skin that it wasn’t Barquilla.

They were much lighter than he expected, or maybe he was much stronger than he thought, and he hauled them easily over the edge and fell backward. “Sorry,” he heard the voice, muffled in his chest, say before their hand pressed into his shoulder to push themselves up. “Thanks, Colonel. Sorry about that,” it was Connor. He smiled and pushed himself off of Anderson, offering a hand to help him up.

Kuboyama flipped themself over the ledge a few feet away. “That’s sweet and all, guys, but you could help the rest of us too,” they said breathlessly while laying on their back.

“Oh! Sorry!” Connor jogged over and offered his hand to Umi once Anderson was on his feet. 

He shrieked as someone grabbed his ankle and tugged, dragging his foot a few inches toward the edge. This was followed by Freddie’s maniacal laughter, “You should see your face, Con.”

He jerked his foot away from Freddie’s grip, “That wasn’t funny!” But he smiled, despite himself.

Once everyone had gotten up safely to the, thankfully, flat surface of Mons Veritatis, Lyle landed nearby on Buttercup. He left the tranquilizer gun behind this time, and instead held a net in one hand and a length of rope in the other. He dismounted and held them out to Anderson, “You’ll need these. When one of those things tries to kill you, that’s how you know it’s the one.”

“Great,” Barquilla mumbled from behind them. “Let’s all go be best friends with the thanators while we’re at it.”

Anderson ignored him, taking the implements from Lyle and leading his squad through the narrow cave that led to the other side of the floating peak. Quaritch was waiting for them on the other side. On another day, he might have chastised them for taking their sweet time, but today he just grimaced. Cupcake hissed as they passed, sharing his rider’s animosity for the masked man.

Barquilla snatched the rope from Anderson’s hands, “Let me get this over with.” 

With everyone else’s rifles at the ready, he walked, not crept, out into the crowd of wailing banshees. He went brazenly out into the rookery, glaring at every banshee he passed as they hissed back at him. He made it quite a ways out before one took any interest in him. He saw its shadow before he saw it.

Large and golden, it landed directly behind him and spread its wings so wide that the other recoms could no longer see him before it pounced. He was suddenly glad they couldn’t see him when he realized how scared shitless he was. Na’vi? Easy. Viperwolves? Piece of cake. None of those were bigger than you, though, and this thing’s threat display had worked wonders, just as it intended. Now he was flat on his back, gripping its chin crest and jerking its head away from him so it wouldn’t rip his face off. Its talons dug into his arm, too, and he could feel the blood trickling down his bicep as he struggled to get the rope around its snout. Hot air kept tickling his face, and he realized it was coming from the holes in its throat rather than its mouth; that gave him an idea.

Wrenching one of his legs free from beneath its weight, he kicked it as hard as he could, right in the spiracle. Its resulting scream of pain came out as a gag and it pulled away. That gave Barquilla the opportunity to wriggle out from under the beast and tie its mouth shut. The next part was instinctual, he hadn’t even been told that this was how it was done, but he took his braid and connected it to one of the golden tendrils coming from the banshee’s head.

The moment their minds merged, it calmed. Barquilla didn’t know how, but he could tell this one was female. She still seemed pissed off at him, but at least she wasn’t trying to eat him anymore.

Someone yelled from way behind them, “Get in the air, Gav!” He could hardly tell who it was over the din of the rookery, but they had a point. He tugged the rope free and tucked it into his belt, then climbed onto her back. He could feel her muscles rippling beneath him, and suddenly found his heart pumping with adrenaline. This was exactly what he was meant for, to fly. Together they leapt from the cliff, and it was as easy as riding a bike.

Anderson went next, seeing as he should have gone first, then Chloe after no one else volunteered— both of them opted for the net to make things easier. Then Freddie finally decided it was his turn. He’d spent the last ten minutes practically vibrating in anticipation, either because he wanted to get in the air or because he wanted to fight a banshee; knowing him, it could have been either.

He grabbed the rope and turned to Chloe, “Wish me luck?”

Her face stayed just as blank as it had been for the past two days. She made some expressions here and there, but mostly only when prompted by the others noticing she hadn’t reacted in the way she typically would. Now was one of those times, and she gave Freddie a small smile before responding with what her best guess of the expected reply was, “Good luck.”

A fanged grin split across his face, though this one seemed genuinely enthused as opposed to his usual wolfishness, and he ran out into the throng. Almost immediately he felt teeth clamp down on his shoulder. He hissed in pain, then laughed. The banshee shook him back and forth like a rag doll, actually trying to kill him, and he just went on laughing.

“Always knew he was fuckin’ crazy,” Barquilla mumbled to himself.

Kuboyama punched his shoulder, “Crazy or not, if he falls over the edge, you have to get him.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He held his queue in his hand, ready to leap off with his banshee at a moment’s notice.

The banshee released Freddie, sending him careening into one of the boulders that floated about 20 feet away from the cliff. It dipped under his weight as he scrambled to get ahold of the vines that tethered it to the one he was just thrown from.

“Ha! Holy shit!” The others couldn’t see it from here, but his eyes lit up like never before. Blood trickled from his feline nose where he had just slammed it against the boulder and stained his teeth. “Did you guys see that?”

Anderson mounted his banshee, which he named Ji-cheol, and called out to him, “Just stay there Chase, I’ll get you back over here.”

“No, no no,” Freddie pulled himself onto the flat top of the boulder. He needed to carefully balance lest it tip and he fell into the empty nothing below him, “I’m doing this my way, Colonel.”

“Just be careful, you idiot,” Kuboyama shouted out.

Everyone was on edge now, except Chloe. She was perfectly calm. 

Freddie, balanced atop his little perch, unclipped his knife sheath from his belt and tied it to one end of the rope before beckoning the banshee. It seemed to know exactly what the motion meant and lunged straight for him. He tossed one end of the rope into the air and ducked just in time for it to soar over him, but not before its wing caught on the rope and the weight of his knife came back down. He grabbed it just in time to get swept along with it, hanging on for dear life as it realized what had happened and thrashed in the air, trying to buck him off to no avail. 

The seven other recoms watched on with dreadful anticipation from the edge of the cliff, but only half of them would be able to jump into action if Freddie couldn’t manage this. Lucky for him, he was unhinged enough to make just about any plan work in his favor. 

He twisted his arm once, twice, around the rope to secure himself and reached across to dig his fingers into the soft skin on the underside of the primary wing. It hissed in response, but out of all the noise it had been making, this didn’t faze Freddie in the least. The flap of its wings hindered his movement, but he continued on regardless. Digging his fingers in deeper, he had a good enough hold to pull himself forward onto its back before moving his hand up to its shoulder. Now he could let go of the rope — he could get a new knife later, he didn’t care — and reach around to get his braid. Within another minute, he had the black and teal banshee under control and was landing with the others.

The members of his squad let out a collective sigh of relief. Except for Chloe, of course. Connor, who usually had the most difficulty picking up social cues, finally noticed she seemed off.

He walked over and touched her arm, “Hey, are you okay?”

It took her a few moments to respond, like she was thinking. Surely a simple yes or no wasn’t something that needed to be deliberated on, right? “Yes,” she answered after a moment. She tried to make it sound normal, or as far as she could tell was normal, but instead it came off as stilted.

He noticed this and peered into her eyes. They used to be a deep brown, but now they were a dull sort of teal. “You’re sure? You can tell us.”

Her face didn’t change, but he could tell she was considering it. And she was; turning memories over in her mind to see if that was the best course of action. The truth could be damaging, but not saying anything could have an even greater effect; there was no easy option. “It might—”

“Hey, guys,” Freddie chimed in just as she was about to speak. He was still bleeding from where his banshee had bit him. “Could I get some bandages, Chloe? This hurts like a motherfucker.”

She reached into the medical kit strapped to her vest and grabbed the supplies he would need and set to work on his shoulder, dropping the topic. Her fingers worked mechanically, removing his vest, cutting away his shirt, and disinfecting the area before instructing him to hold the gauze in place.

Connor waited until she began to unroll the bandages to speak again, “Actually, I was asking her something… but i-it could wait.”

Freddie raised his eyebrows, “Go ahead, Con. Like I’m not even here.”

“Oh. Um, okay. I was asking Chloe if she was feeling okay… she just seems a little vacant, is all. I’m worried.”

They both look at her, awaiting her response. Kuboyama was off taming their own banshee, which had similar patches of vitiligo as they did, and Quaritch and Lyle were still paying attention to that, but this exchange had drawn Anderson and Barquilla’s attention. She made one final pass on his bandages before letting her hand rest on his shoulder. The Chloe in her memories would have found profound comfort in a gesture like this, but now?

“Am I feeling okay…” She realized this was her last chance to decide to hide this or not. But it wasn’t an option, not really— not telling them could jeopardize the mission. It only took her a moment to quantify the outcome of that. “I don’t feel anything at all. Not anymore.”

“What?” Connor asked. “What does that mean, Chloe?”

“I remember what it was like, to feel, from the human Chloe’s memories. But those aren’t mine, I don’t feel a single thing. The Chloe Caven that stands before you now is nothing like her, even if I share her face. I’m an illusion. She is not here.”

Kuboyama was back now, paired with their matching banshee, and looking confused. Anderson held them back from approaching, but the three of them were now listening to the exchange intently. Quaritch and Lyle were listening too, but they didn’t care near as much— Chloe wasn’t their concern.

Connor was perplexed, concerned, scared, all of it. “Why didn’t you say anything? How did the doctors not catch this?”

Chloe merely shrugged, the most natural movement she had made since waking.

“No…” Freddie, who had not said anything since Chloe revealed this bombshell, could not believe it. “No, no way. It’s Chloe, she’s always been Chloe!” He took her hand from his shoulder and held it between his own. “There’s nothing wrong with you, okay? You’re probably just in shock, y’know, I heard some of his squad,” he jerked his head toward Quaritch, “took the whole turning blue thing pretty badly. Give it some time and you’ll be just fine!” His eyes were desperate, anyone could see that.

She shook her head. That was all it took. The Chloe he knew was gone, and he could not bring her back. He could relate, living his entire life barely comprehending the emotions of the people around him, spending years learning to mimic them; even then they would still think he was broken. But Chloe was not broken, she wasn’t , and if anyone said that he’d make sure to give them hell. Worse than hell. He’d kill them if he felt it necessary.

She let him pull her into his arms, stiff as stone. A thousand such memories of his warm embrace when she needed it most, but this did absolutely nothing. Not a single emotion to be found.

Chloe Caven was, without a shadow of a doubt, a defective recombinant.

Chapter Text

“ Toruk Makto ,” Ronal’s voice was stern. She had been waiting on the beach for him to return. She was about to say something else, but the moment she noticed the two unconscious bodies of forest Na’vi in Sky People clothes, she changed course entirely, “ You bring more demons to our home? After what you have already wrought upon us? This foolish child, ” she motioned to Fìrfyan, who was helping him tow the canoe with the recombinants to shore, “ has already brought one of them here. We do not need more. ”

Fìrfyan’s ears dropped in shame.

Jake’s nose scrunched up, “ We can question them. This one will know more, ” he pointed at Spence. “ She’s… ” He tried to formulate how to translate military ranks in a way a Na’vi could understand, “ Quaritch, their leader. She is one of his eyktanay. She will know more. ”

“ You have invited enough death to us, Jakesully. ” Saying nothing else, she pulled out the dagger that dangled from her headdress and stepped into the water, going straight for the unconscious recombinants' throats.

Fìrfyan backed away immediately, but Jake stepped into her path, “ Hey, hey, no, wait. We can use them, Ronal. Kill them after if you must, but we need what they know. ”

“ And then what? Let the Sky People come looking for them? ” Her eyes were rimmed with red, making her look slightly unhinged. 

Their intense eye contact was only broken by another voice, “ What is this? ” It was Tonowari, followed closely behind by Neytiri, who was still adorned in her mourning shroud and paint. It only took them a moment to realize what they were arguing about. He clenched his jaw and waved for Fìrfyan and the other hunter to leave them.

“ I know it sounds crazy, I know. ” Jake pointed off in the general direction of the other prisoner, “ That one won’t talk. If we tell them we have these two, or that they talked, then the other prisoner will too. The same goes for them. They know more about the Sky People than we do. ”

“My Jake,” Neytiri hissed in English. “Are you mad?”

He looked at her for a long moment. Their son's death already felt like his fault, and he knew if the RDA came looking for these prisoners that it would be doubly so. “Maybe I am. But we can’t fight them without knowing how they fight. These prisoners, Quaritch , they were all dead. Who’s to say if we kill them that they won’t just come back? ”

None of them saw Spider lurking up the beach, crouched behind a tree just within earshot. He could just barely see the recoms from his hiding spot, and while he couldn’t tell who the man was from here, he recognized Spence’s auburn hair and tattooed shoulder. His stomach twisted in knots. Based on Jake’s words the other one probably wasn’t Quaritch, but any of them were just as bad.

Tonowari stood stiffly beside his wife, sharing an unspoken glance with her. They both knew this was a bad idea, to think otherwise was foolishness, but Jake did have a point. Jake was able to go beyond the rainforests to rally clans when the Omatikaya needed them, but this was a sea clan problem; he also didn’t have Toruk anymore, which was the primary reason most clans listened to him. Without outside help, they would need every advantage they could get.

He knelt down beside the canoe, taking a closer look at the demons that had massacred his people. Like Jake, they almost passed as Na’vi— almost. Their eyebrows and extra fingers gave them away, but he could see why the Sky People chose them as their weapon of choice against The People.

Ronal voiced the question before he could, “ Why are you so sure they will tell you anything? ”

Jake hesitated before answering; not even Neytiri knew his connection to Spence. The only people who knew were Max, Norm, and Grace, before her death. Continuing to hide it wouldn’t do anyone any good, though. “ She was my friend, ” his eyes met Neytiri’s, “ from before. I killed her. ” He left out the part about how her death had haunted him, how her ghost had returned as a recurring character in his nightmares ever since that first altercation with the recombinants. “ She’ll trust me. ”

Without responding, the two Metkayina leaders stepped aside to discuss it in hushed tones. Neytiri joined them after a moment, unable to look her husband in the eye. From Jake’s vantage, it looked as if the two women were agreeing on something for once, but Ronal seemed to gradually shift. He couldn’t tell what stance it was, their voices drowned out by the crash of the tide starting to come in, but he could tell Tonowari was convincing her of something.

“ Jakesully, ” Tonowari said, walking back over to him and the canoe, “ we have decided. ”

Ronal joined him. Now he was sure he’d lost the argument, along with any chance he had of speaking to Spence again. “ Did anyone else know them before they became demons? ” She asked bluntly.

Jake gulped, “ Just two of the avatars here from High Camp, Norm and Noah .”

She nodded, “ Only the three of you will be permitted to speak to them. ”

His stomach dropped, preparing to execute them, before what she said clicked in his mind. The Ronal of a few months ago, even just a few weeks ago, never would have given such a concession. “ Irayo, Ronal .”

“ Do not thank me, ” she said sternly. “ I allow this purely out of necessity. ”

“ Separate them, ” Tonowari ordered, beckoning over two warriors to help carry them. “ Tie them well, and search them for weapons. We will keep them on opposite sides of the village. ” They nodded, each grabbing one of Manks’ arms to drag him to the edges of the village.

Spider watched them go, now seeing that it was Mansk they’d captured. Of all the recoms, they captured the one he had the least clear impression of. At least it wasn’t Lyle.

Zoology did not translate very well to medicine, even in a veterinary sense. Noah was all but chased out of the makeshift hospital that spilled out of the usual tent, so they took to helping with the skimwings and ilus that were injured instead. Not exactly easy, though, when your life’s work is focused on how these creatures live rather than how they die.

They were kneeling in the shallows, working on a splint for an ilu wing, when a Metkayina’s voice scolding someone caught their attention, followed by splashing. The noise disturbed the ilu, who began to thrash, so Noah couldn’t exactly look up to check. Their curiosity was quickly resolved when Spider appeared in the corner of their eye. This far out, the water was up to his chin, and his dreadlocks floated around his head like seaweed.

“You’re too close, Spider,” they muttered, rubbing the ilu’s forehead to calm it down.

He bobbed in the water. They hadn’t noticed until just now how his face was pinched with anxiety. “Sorry, but it couldn’t wait.”

Noah doesn’t respond right away, taking a moment to finish the splint. Something like this would be easier on land, with a patient that didn’t need to keep itself afloat, but they made do given the circumstances. With one final knot it was finished, and they patted the ilu to let it know. “What is it?”

“Spence is here. Alive,” he said quickly.

For a moment, they were sure they heard him wrong. Then his words hit, really hit. They stand abruptly, gripping his shoulder, “ Ha ? How do you know this?”

Spider might have flinched had he not come expecting this sort of urgency from them. “I saw Jake bring her in, she was knocked out. Mansk too. I don’t know where they took them after, I didn’t want him to know I was watching him. I would’ve come sooner, but no one could tell me where you were.”

“Come with me, I’ll ask him myself.” Noah wades back to shore, their long braids trailing behind them in the water, without waiting for Spider to catch up. They didn’t spare much of a thought to the idea that Jake had actually managed to convince Tonowari and Ronal to keep them alive because they knew they likely wouldn’t stay that way for long; they needed to speak to Spence before that happened or, better yet, convince her to run.

Spence felt the splitting headache first, before the strain on her shoulders and the glare of the sun burning through her eyelids. Instinctually she knew she was somewhere she shouldn’t be. The last she remembered, they were stuck on that boat, and then…

Oh. Right.

She opened her eyes too quickly, flooding her vision with blinding light and making her wince. While her eyes adjusted, she heard voices in that unfamiliar dialect, but she’s sure she heard the words “Toruk Makto.” Jake.

Now able to see, she takes in her surroundings. She’s somewhere on the edge of a beach, the sand and grass intermingling beneath her feet, but still far enough from the treeline that they cast no shade at this time of day. Speaking of her feet, they are dangling above the ground. She tries to move, but pain ripples through her nervous system. They’ve bound her hands up behind her head, locking them in place by securing them to her biceps and threading her queue right through the middle of the knot. She has a vague memory of glancing down from her seat in Brown’s Samson before the destruction of the Omatikaya’s Hometree and seeing Jake and Dr. Augustine tied up like this. She’d never expected it to be such an effectively painful method of tying a person up.

Unable to turn her head, she is only able to take in what is just within her peripheral vision. Two reef Na’vi wielding spears, one of which was jogging away from her, likely alerting someone that she was awake. The remaining warrior turned on her the moment she pulled against her restraints, placing their spear tip just centimeters from her throat.

Jake is in his family’s marui with Neytiri when Noah finds him, Spider trailing a few feet behind. “When were you going to tell me Spence was alive?” They demand, breathless from their hurried trek across the village.

He sighs in response, setting aside the food he was preparing. “I was going to tell you, Noah.”

“When? After you executed her?”

He stood abruptly, towering nearly a foot over them. “I won’t let that happen.” He turns to Spider, “Wait outside. You don’t need to hear this.”

Spider hesitates. “I think I do, actually,” he says, before adding, “I may not like them much, but I know her. The others, too.”

Jake crosses his arms, “So you care about them now?”

“No, I’m just saying—”

Neytiri has stopped what she was doing now, joining the three of them in the marui’s doorway. “Enough,” her voice stops Spider in his tracks, “no more of this talk in my home. If you are so concerned for this demon,” she says to Noah, “then you will speak to her. Find out what she knows. That is all she is good for .”

“Hold on,” Jake says. “I should talk to her first. We killed most of her squad, she’ll be vulnerable. I can use that.” He tucks his knife back into the sheath on his chest. “Especially if I tell her we have two of her friends, but withhold who. She’ll be forced to give something up if she wants to know.”

“You don’t know that will work, Jake. What if she’s changed?” Noah says, doubt creeping into their voice. It wasn’t a possibility they were letting themself seriously consider, but it lingered in their mind all the same.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, considering it. “Then we’ll have to do it the hard way, just like the other one.”

“That didn’t even work on them.”

“I will figure it out!” Jake shouted, the outburst making all but Neytiri flinch.

Another figure joined them in the doorway then, blocking most of the light from entering the marui. It was one of the guards posted around the prisoners, though Jake couldn’t remember which. “ The woman with the flower tattoos is awake ,” they said plainly, unconcerned with the conversation they had just interrupted.

Jake nodded solemnly. He was expecting her to be knocked out for longer after the blow to the back of the head she’d been dealt, but this was fine. It’s fine. It just meant he had much, much less time to prepare what he would actually say. “Don’t tell Norm about this yet,” he said, mostly to Spider. He had more to say on the matter, but shook his head, deciding against it.

She heard them before she saw them. Footsteps crunching through the sand, likely two people. Former friends or not, this was a war, and there was really only one clear path for a prisoner of war: she would be interrogated. That was just a nice way of saying they would beat the intel out of her until they were satisfied. Jake had had sixteen years for his grudge to sour, and now his son was dead. She knew there was no chance of making it off of this island alive, but now she figured she’d be lucky if she survived the night.

The Na’vi holding her at the tip of their spear glanced behind her before lowering their weapon and stepping aside. And then, all at once, there he was. Up close, she could see how the years had changed Jake, but it was still the same face she’d known.

They just stared at each other for a while, neither sure what to say.

There was no denying it was her, either. On the ship, Jake could let himself doubt it. Up close, though, his suspicions were confirmed. Separately her features looked almost exactly the same as they had when she was human, only now they had been rearranged into the hybridized proportions of an avatar.

Spence felt as if her throat was going to close. The longer he just stood there, silent, the harder it became to keep her composure. It was easy to forget about the horrible things she’d done when she wasn’t staring into the eyes of someone she’d done them to— she’d felt this throughout the week leading to the battle that massacred both sides, but it was just a little bit easier when it wasn’t someone she knew.

She was suddenly struck with the memory of him, atop the Last Shadow as he took her life, and her lip began to tremble. In her last moments, back then, she assumed that she likely felt she deserved it some way. If that was true then, she deserved so much worse now.

“Don’t do that, Spence,” Jake finally said. “Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

“Just do what you came here to do then,” she said quietly, taking a shaky breath. “Kill me, torture me, whatever.”

He shook his head. “I won’t need to if you just betray them. You can make this easy.”

She doesn’t respond right away. Some part of her knows he’s right, of course. “They’ll kill me,” she whispers. “Whatever I do, I’m dead.”

She’s right, Jake admits to himself. He’s already promised to discard the three prisoners after squeezing them for all the information they have. He would have to fall back on his original plan, then, and manipulate her. From all angles.

“I don’t want to kill you, Spence.” He crosses his arms, pacing in front of her for dramatic effect, “But your friends, well… they’re being questioned right now too, and we have no reason to be gentle with them.”

This grabs Spence’s attention by the throat. Her eyes widened, searching his expression for any ounce of a bluff. She couldn’t see any. If she could move, she would grab him by the shoulders and demand to know more, but she could only kick a leg out toward him despite him standing far enough away that it had no hope of hitting him. “You didn’t kill Mansk?” she asked, before the specificity of his words processed in her mind; friends , plural, “Who else do you have here? Miles?”

He shook his head, “I ask the questions, not you.” He paused, debating if he should say any more. He would keep the third prisoner’s identity under wraps for now, he decided. As for Quaritch… it would likely make her easier to convince if she knew the truth. “Quaritch is dead. I left him to drown myself.”

The sun is gone by the time Mansk wakes. Be it an eclipse or nighttime, he has no way of knowing. All he knows is he has just regained consciousness in an unfamiliar forest, he feels like he might have a concussion, and his mouth is very dry. And he’s tied up. Not that he could do much if he could get himself into a fight anyway, he felt dizzy just turning his head— that, on top of the way his queue was tightly bound, nearly made him throw up from the pain and nausea. 

All he can tell from his surroundings is that he’s somewhere in the trees. He doesn’t see any sand or waves, and he doesn’t have much grasp on the biomes of Pandora, so he could be anywhere from the island they were stranded near or all the way back in Omatikaya territory. He wasn’t sure which was worse.

Then he noticed the eyes in the trees, reflecting what little light there was in the period of darkness before the plants began to glow, staring at him like prey. He sucked in a breath. His vision swam as he focused on it, watching it move slowly toward him. Too small to be a thanator, too big to be a viperwolf… It could be a Na’vi. It could also be something far, far worse; like a slinth. Mansk suddenly felt a chill of fear race down his spine, into his tail, as he looked at those eyes. 

Something jabbed him in the gut. Not enough to break the skin, but enough to hurt, and with such force and suddenness that it knocked the wind out of him. The forest was brighter now, and he could finally make out the figure. Na’vi, with the wide limbs and flat tail of the reef people. At least he now knew what part of the moon he was on.

They hissed something at him in Na’vi before calling out to someone nearby that Mansk could not see. His tail swished indignantly, prompting them to repeat themself. Only the second time did Mansk understand the thickly accented words: “ Don’t. Move. ”

Within minutes Jake Sully was in front of him, accompanied by a larger reef man whose face was covered in tattoos. He had to guess this was their leader, the olo’whatever.

“Devin Mansk,” Jake spat. “Not so tough without your Hydra gun, huh?”

Mansk glared at him in silence. 

A scream in the distance. The voice was male, maybe. Mansk jerked his head toward the sound, prompting a new wave of nausea to roll through him. Jake grabbed his jaw and forced his head forward, “Don’t look at that. Look at me. If you don’t want that to be you, you’ll tell me what I need to know.”

“Like hell .”

Jake released his face and stepped to the side, nodding to the tall tattooed one who had come with him. Without a word he stepped forward and launched his fist into Mansk’s torso. Just a single blow, but much more powerful than expected; it at least cracked a rib. The force of it sent Mansk swinging like a sandbag, the rope around his wrists and queue seemingly tightening.

“I’ll say it again,” Jake grabbed Mansk by the queue to stop him from swinging. “I’m gonna ask you a few questions, and if I don’t like the answers, Tonowari here will hit you again.” He pulled out something that had been tucked into the back of his loincloth. A Zarkov-33 pistol, and in the dim light, Mansk could just barely see P.S. scratched into the barrel. “We tossed the magazine, but there’s still one in the chamber. We could have the three of you vote on who to shoot.”

“Fuck you,” Mansk muttered. “Wait,” he realized, “three? Who did you pick up after us?”

Jake glanced at Tonowari and made a gesture, who in turn said something to the two Na’vi guards. “You don’t get to ask questions,” Jake said while one shoved a foul-tasting moss into his mouth and the other rubbed sap across a leaf and placed it over his lips. Just as effective as duct tape. “That moss doubles as a sedative and paralytic, our previous intel suggests your science guys have never even heard of it. It lasts a while, so you’ll have plenty of time to think about my offer.”

He and Tonowari had a short conversation in Na’vi. Mansk could only understand about half of what Jake was saying and none of what Tonowari said, but it confirmed there was a third prisoner. Who could it be?

They gave him a final glance as his eyelids started to droop. Someone behind him smacked his tail to ensure the paralysis was setting in, but he could barely feel it. The last thing he saw was the backs of Jake and Tonowari walking away from him, in the direction the scream had come from.

Neytiri was waiting for him when he got home that night, long after the sun had disappeared. “My Jake,” she whispered to avoid waking the children who slept in a pile in their marui. She grabbed his hand, her eyes immediately catching on the dried blood that stained his knuckles.

“It’s not mine,” he answered shortly. “They’re taking some more convincing than I’d like.”

She cupped his jaw, coaxing his head down to press his forehead against hers. “ We will not need to move again, will we? ”

“No,” he took her hands in his, “ Tonowari, Ronal, they want us here. We’ll go home one day, but we don’t need to run anymore. ”

“Tonowari wants us here. Ronal hates us. Hates me.”

Jake gave her a soft, reassuring smile, “ You hated me. Now look at us.”

She laughed quietly, and it felt like the first time he had heard that sound in an eternity. “ You are still a skxawng. ” The mirth seeped from her eyes and her expression grew distant. The question had been eating away at her all day, “Who is that woman, Jake?”

He sighed, the weariness returning to him. He took a minute to choose his words, instead kneeling down to scrub the blood from his hands in the water below the walkway. “Phoebe Spence. Most of the humans that stayed after the RDA left Pandora will probably remember her, if not by name then by face. I met her through Noah, she was their brother’s friend. I never met him. I heard that she got a lot closer to some of the scientists after his death because she was always checking up on Noah. That’s how Grace knew her, too.” He paused to meet Neytiri’s eyes. “She was a good friend, a good person. Or at least, I thought so.”

Neytiri could guess where this was going.

“She was there when Hometree burned. I was so… so angry that she could do that, I didn’t even let her tell me that she hadn’t even shot at the tree— she let it happen. Noah and Norm loved her too much to be as angry as I was, though, and they understood. They wanted her to come with us when we escaped.”

“Did she?”

“No. She helped us, but no. I think she was going to fight them from the inside like Trudy did. It must’ve killed her.”

Neytiri’s face hardened, “ She is a killer, ma Jake. ”

“I know,” he said, too loudly. “ I-I know. But she’s smart, we can make her see that she’s on the wrong side. She can kill for us. ”

She is about to respond, but they are interrupted by a small figure appearing in the doorway, “Mama? Daddy?”

“Hey, Tuk, hey. What are you doing up?” Jake knelt and smoothed her little braids.

“I heard you talking,” she rubbed her eyes and yawned. “Is everything okay?”

“ Yes, ma’ite. We’re fine ,” Neytiri whispered. “ Let’s go back to bed .”

Spence had heard that scream last night. The voice was familiar, she knew that, but she wasn’t sure who it was. It didn’t sound like Mansk, but every other person it could be was dead or away from here. She was sure of it.

It was midday now, and by this point she was sure her captors were planning to starve her out. Not that she could eat anyway, tied up like she was. Sleep didn’t come easy, either, so she was both exhausted and hungry. Oh, and don’t forget dehydration and blood loss. If they left her alone for the rest of the day, she may just be dead when Jake came back to ask her more questions.

It gave her a lot of time to think, which she didn’t really want to do. Most of her thoughts were occupied with guilt. Since the moment she woke up— since the moment she stepped foot on Pandora. No, even further… Since the day she joined the Marines, Spence had left a trail of death in her wake. None of it had ever been pleasurable to her, not like how some of the people in SecOps enjoyed killing, but it had been necessary . Or so that’s what she’d told herself since the first time. Deep down, she knew it was just an excuse. Ja died because of her negligence, Prager too. Kevin died because she wasn’t fast enough. Jesse, her first friend in basic training, had been gunned down because they were both too green to know better. All those innocent Na’vi, armed or otherwise, who had died at her and her comrades’ hands. She wanted to go back for Quaritch, but she hadn’t and now he was dead too. And Trudy… She desperately wanted to know what happened to her. She probably went down fighting, knowing her; fighting the very same people that Spence was too stubborn to betray. They could have gone down together if she’d just left with them back then.

She realized this was probably exactly what Jake wanted, for her to spiral down a guilt trip until she told him everything in the hope of repentance. And she might just do that. Maybe. It’s not like it mattered, Lyle wouldn’t be able to find them since they’d been moved—

Oh, god. Their trackers. The RDA would find them, and they would burn this entire island to the ground in the process.

Blood dripped from his nose, coating his face and chest in rusty brown. All the new wounds from the beatings he’d endured over the past few days helped distract him from the pain of his crushed leg, but really, it just made the whole of him hurt so bad that he couldn’t separate one pain from another. Each breath felt like his ribs were breaking all over again.

But he hadn’t told them anything, kept every secret close to his chest. The only thing he’d said to Sully was that he should go fuck himself.

Maybe the dehydration was driving him crazy, or maybe they’d hit him a little too hard, but he couldn’t help but find it a little amusing. Here he was, bleeding and broken in the middle of nowhere, all his friends dead, but he was on a beautiful island that the RDA would surely market as a vacation destination once they took Pandora for themselves. It didn’t matter much to him anymore; he knew he wouldn’t live to see the day. His loyalty wasn’t even to the RDA, it was to people . Everyone he cared about was either on Earth or here— he could never return to Earth, and all the people here that he loved were probably dead. Why else would Jake Sully have kept him around for days, in which he’d said nothing, unless he had no other way to get even a clue of what the recombinants were up to?

No, it didn’t matter to him anymore. He could tell Jake everything, and it wouldn’t matter, because he would just kill him as soon as he wasn’t needed anymore. At least this way he could make it harder for the man who had killed him in a previous life, purely out of spite.

When he came back, he would let him know just how royally fucked they all were. The RDA would come, and they would rain hell down on this place. He would be dead, but he’d be laughing at them from the grave.

“Jake?” Spence called out when she finally heard footsteps approaching from behind, making one of her guards hiss a warning at her in response. It’s not her fault they tied her up so she couldn’t see anyone who approached from the village.

He didn’t respond until he was in front of her. He was holding a small bowl of water and something wrapped in the large, flat leaves of the trees above them. She eyed the water hungrily. “How did you know to look for me out here?” Jake asked.

Her eyes snapped up from the water to his. She could smell the bundle now, quickly identifying it as food. Her mouth watered despite its dryness. “We—” She nearly responded without thinking, exhaustion and thirst addling her brain. There was no real harm in telling him this, though; he may have already guessed it himself. “We picked up a rogue gunship on some radar like— like a week and a half ago, by now? Quaritch assumed it was you, or was heading to you.”

Jake shut his eyes and cursed under his breath. He hadn’t even considered that flying Norm and Max out in a Samson could have tipped off the RDA— they would need to be more careful. “And the tulkun? Was that to bait me out of hiding?”

“...Yeah.”

He was silent, deciding his next question. What he really wanted to do was scream at her, hit her like the other prisoners, throw this food away. But he knew that, if she was anything like the Spence he’d lost, that wouldn’t work on her. Not from him. “His name was Neteyam,” he croaked out. “My boy. I remember when you had morals, Spence, a code. He was just a child.” His hands shook; from rage, or grief, or both. 

“N–No! I would never kill a child,” she said, desperate. “It…” she paused, realizing she was about to say too much again, “I have to believe I’m still the same person you knew, or else I-I’m nothing, Jake. I want to be a good person,” tears began to fall without her consent.

Jake dropped the bundle of food on the ground and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look him in the eye, “If you were a good person, we wouldn’t be in this mess! We wouldn’t have ever met .” It was a deep cut, but undeniably true. Dr. Augustine had told her once that everyone in SecOps was morally bankrupt; how right she was.

“I know,” Spence closed her eyes so she wouldn’t need to see the whirlwind of emotions in Jake’s eyes anymore. If he hadn’t wanted to kill her yesterday, he might after this, so what was the harm in saying more? “It was Lyle,” she whispered, “he killed your son.”

She didn’t open her eyes until Jake released his grip on her jaw. He was turned away from her, looking toward the village— or where she guessed the village was. “Is he alive?”

She takes a long breath through her nose, knowing exactly what will follow her answer, “Yes. He went to get help, he might be on his way now.”

“I’m going to kill him.” He turned back to her, a new fire behind his eyes. “He won’t find us here, but I’ll find him . And when I do,” he gripped the bowl so hard that the fired clay cracked, “he’ll suffer.”

“We have trackers,” the words fell from her lips as fast as she called them to mind, no longer considering the consequences of revealing the information. “They implanted them before we woke up, we’ve had them this whole time. You have to run.”

The bowl slipped from his grasp, tumbling to the ground and spilling its contents over their feet. He was stunned, the words slowly settling into his bones like weights pressing down on him. “I have to go,” he said stiffly. He barked something at one of the men guarding her before turning back to her, “Someone else will come question you. Fuck,” he ran a hand through his locked hair, “ Fuck! ” Jake started to leave, but turned back to her briefly, “Thank you, for warning me. For giving us time. I’ll remember that.”

She was expecting to be left alone for the rest of the day after Jake left. Even from all the way out here, Spence can feel the nervous energy buzzing throughout the village, across the entire island it seemed. Even the guards on either side of her began to pace anxiously after Jake translated what she said to them. 

Jake was the only one she could speak to; even when she could understand the Metkayina, they refused to respond when she asked them something. So, effectively, she was alone. Alone with her thoughts. Alone with her guilt. Death had always followed behind Spence like a dark shadow; mother, brother, lover, father, friend. She had taken the lives of many, human and Na’vi alike, but never someone close to her. Pulled the trigger hundreds, thousands of times, but always protected the people closest to her. Until now. She had played the memory of that battle back in her mind so many times now that it had practically been burned into her retinas. Every time she closed her eyes, she was back on the ship, reliving her decisions; her mistakes. Every death felt like her fault. Maybe if she hadn’t ordered the soldiers to the left, Ja wouldn’t have needed to sacrifice himself to save her. If she’d had quicker reflexes, hadn’t hesitated when Jake appeared, Z-dog and Prager would still be here. Then she went and broke the primary tenet of any soldier: no man left behind. I left Quaritch to die.

Bile burned the back of her throat while fat, hot tears escaped the eyelids that she had shut tight. She felt pathetic, crying in front of the guards while she dangled helplessly from her bindings, but once she started, she couldn’t stop. It poured out of her like a flood. All this death chasing her, and it was going to catch up with her soon enough. She could only imagine they would kill her and Mansk to dispose of any liabilities before the RDA came knocking— and even if she took Jake’s offer and joined them, Ardmore would rather see her dead than a traitor.

Spence didn’t hear the footsteps coming toward her. It wasn’t until she heard her own name in a soft and familiar voice that she opened her eyes; she thought she’d imagined it.

The sight of them in front of her, barely three feet away, is so staggering that her tears stop entirely. They looked exactly as they had in that grainy image she saw during Zu’ap’s interrogation. She can’t find the words, merely staring down at those purple braids. All these years, and Noah seemed virtually unchanged.

“Phoebe,” Noah repeats themself.

It’s all she can do to nod. And it’s all Noah needs for confirmation, throwing themself at her and pulling her into their arms. The guards flinch, scolding them for getting so close, but they don’t listen, holding Spence so tightly that they squeeze the air from her lungs. She can’t hug them back, but it sends a new trickle of tears running down her face.

Norm had just finished corralling the youngest of the orphaned Metkayina children into a marui for the eclipse when he heard the conch horn. It hasn’t blown since scouts returned to Awa’atlu ahead of the rest of the clan, alerting the village to the massacre occuring at Three Brothers Rock. He told one of the older children to make sure the rest stay put and jogged off toward where other Metkayina are gathering, making sure he stayed on the fringes of the crowd to avoid Ronal’s ire.

Jake is already there, speaking in hushed tones with Tonowari, a group of elders, and a few of the more seasoned warriors. His guts twisted; it was clear this was related to the RDA, one of the prisoners had probably finally revealed some key information. He’d been trying not to think about who they might be. Since Noah’s encounter with Zdinarsk in the forest months prior, he’d had a sneaking suspicion that Spence had been brought back as well. As good as it would be to see her face, he didn’t want her to be back. If she was back, she would just die again. He couldn’t go through that twice.

He reached into his vest pocket and ran his thumb against the mismatched dog tags he kept. He had to believe she was as dead as Trudy. The proof was right here, a thin piece of metal between his thumb and forefinger.

Tonowari raised a hand, sending the gathering into silence. Everyone looked at him with baited breath. “ My people, ” he began, “ I know these times have been hard for us. We are not out of this yet. These Sky People will not quit, even when we sink their metal ships and kill their demons. ” He raised a thumb and two fingers, “ Three of these demons have been captured, and Toruk Makto and I have been questioning them. ”

Murmurs erupted throughout the crowd. Most people weren’t aware of their presence, aside from the handful of hunters and warriors who were chosen to guard them, and the leaders’ inner circle. They fall quiet at a hiss from Ronal.

“ One has spoken, ” he continued, “ Jakesully will explain ,” he nodded to Jake.

Jake stepped forward, and Norm could immediately tell something was weighing heavily on him. His expression was pensive and tight, enhancing every wrinkle that lined his face. Whatever those prisoners had told him was not good. “ The Sky People, the RDA… they’re coming back. ” Everyone reacted, gasps and cries of outrage and curses. He waited for them to settle before continuing, “ Like the tulkun, their demons — soldiers raised from the dead and meant to look like us — they have a way of tracking them, no matter where they are. They’re here . They are coming straight to this island. We have— ” He stops, interrupted by people shouting at him, warriors beating their chests saying they will fight, calls to garner help from other clans. They only lower their voices when Tonowari intervenes. “ I know this is your home, ” Jake continues, “ I know you will not leave it. But there is no way we can beat them, not like this. ”

Tonowari places his hand on his shoulder. “ Those of you who wish to fight may do so. Jakesully and his Resistance will help us, more are on their way. We have also sent scouts to ask the Ta’unui for their help.” He pauses, taking a deep breath, “ But if you wish to flee, to protect yourselves and your family, no one will stop you. ”

Everyone is finally silent. Then slowly, one by one, voices raise. They are in agreement: We fight .

When the gathering finally disperses to make war preparations, Norm beelines toward Jake. He just glimpses Noah’s long braids trailing behind them as they flee the scene, but he can’t guess where they would be going.

“They have trackers?” Norm asked when he reached Jake.

“Yeah,” he responds. “She could have been bluffing, but we can’t afford to bet on that.” His voice hardened like the day they learned the RDA had returned; when he started hatching a plan to send dozens of Na’vi into fucking outer space . 

Norm catches onto the wording he used, “She?”

Jake’s eyes are tired. They lock onto Norm’s and he can see there’s a sadness in them, too. “It’s her… it’s Phoebe. I saw her on the ship, but I needed to be sure.” He sighed, “I needed to be sure before I told you, I’m sorry.”

The air left Norm’s lungs. He felt like he might tumble over, but Jake grabbed his elbow before he had the chance. It took a few seconds for it to hit him, to really hit him. “She’s— where’s— how? ”

“I don’t know, yet. But it’s the same as with Quaritch.”

“Where is she? I need to talk to her, I—”

“Not yet,” Jake held fast on his arm, “we need to make a stop first. You knew some of her SecOps friends, right?”

Norm nodded, speechless.

“Good,” he said. “This one has no idea she’s still alive, let alone that we have her. The other one is still barely conscious, but i picked him up alongside her.

He wanted to ask who it was, but Norm was somehow sure he would recognize them immediately.

Norm had never bothered approaching the hostage that Fìrfyan had dragged in some days ago. He was too busy, too terrified for the children suddenly in his care. And then there was the fear that Ronal or Tonowari would banish him or the other humans and avatars if any of them stepped just an inch out of line because of how much they disliked their presence.

It shocks him how easily he assumes this man is another avatar like himself despite already knowing what he is. Nothing seemed anatomically different between them, they merely reused the same blueprint from the Avatar Program. The only notable difference was that his tattoos from his human body had been printed onto his recombinant body. The ink on his right calf was completely indiscernible thanks to the crushed and mangled state of the whole leg, which dangled limply and looked just a bit too flat.

“He’ll lose that leg, Jake,” Norm mutters upon seeing it. “I don’t even know if RDA medicine could fix that. We’ve made prosthetics before, like with the olo’eyktan of the Ko’onìä—”

They were close enough that the prisoner heard them, and he let out a raspy, unhumorous laugh in response to Norm’s musings. “You talk like I’ll live long enough to even need the treatment.” He spat out some bloody phlegm, “Or that you will.”

Jake glared at him, “Shut the hell up.” He turned to Norm, ignoring the foul curses being hurled at him. “You remember him, right? Alexander Ja. Whenever I was around, he’d be stuck to Spence’s side like glue.”

“Keep her name the hell out of your mouth!”

He hadn’t recognized him at first, but now that it had been pointed out, Norm immediately put a face to the name. Ja’s face was swollen and bruised in some places and openly bleeding in others, but it was him, alright. His voice, raspy as it was, sounded exactly as he remembered it as well.

“Yeah, I remember,” Norm said. He almost felt bad for how bloody and broken he was, but he reminded himself he deserved it. He helped pillage and murder dozens; but then again, so did Spence… so did Trudy.

Jake reached behind Ja’s head and jerked his queue back, straining the restraints around his arms by doing so; Ja bit his tongue to suppress the hiss of pain that nearly escaped his lips. “We know about your trackers,” Jake snarled. “We also know what kind of artillery you have on those ships. What I want to know,” he tightened his fist around Ja’s braid, “is how many more of you there are.”

“Were you hoping I was the last one? That killing me would wipe out the recoms?” Ja laughs again, sounding more like a wheeze. “They’ll just keep bringing us back. This will never end, Sully,” he punctuates his point by spitting in Jake’s face.

Norm’s stomach dropped. Of course, why had no one thought of it earlier? If they could bring soldiers back from the dead, it only made sense they would continuously reuse the same souls, resetting the same person’s memories over and over again like some dark, twisted version of saṃsāra ; especially if the production cost of avatar bodies had lowered in the past sixteen years. “How… how many of you are there? It can’t just be thirteen.”

“I got nothin’ else to say to you, Normie.” Ja reused the nickname he’d used for Norm until he made it very clear how much he hated it. He’d backed off it back then, out of respect, but now he did it entirely on purpose. Norm clenched his jaw.

“Oh, I think you do,” Jake said. “See, you’re not the last one.” He leaned in, eyes burning into Ja’s, “We have her, Ja. And I won’t hesitate to do whatever I need to do to make sure you both tell me what I want to know. If that includes taking a few fingers, or your kurus,” he dug his thumbnail between the strands of hair that wrapped around the queue, “then oh well.”

Norm assumed that was a bluff. Right? He hoped so.

A growl rumbled in Ja’s throat, a sound he had never made before. “If you touch her, I swear to God, I will skin you alive.”

“Tell us where those trackers are, and he won’t have to,” Norm said quickly.

“I could always just cut one of you open and go searching,” Jake said coldly. “Spence doesn’t even know you’re alive yet, so it wouldn’t be very effective if I did that to you …” He tilted his head, cluing Ja into his meaning.

“You bastard!” The fire in Ja was dying out, weakened by the grip on his queue and the desperate need to make sure he didn’t torture her. His voice fell quiet, making him sound so miserably pathetic, “I saw an X-ray a few months ago.” He fought himself to not say the words, but he knew he had to. This wasn’t like before where it didn’t matter what he said or did, because now he knew Spence was alive . She was alive and he needed to do whatever he could to keep her that way. “It’s behind our left ear, you’ll feel it. Fuck you.”

Jake moved his free hand to feel for it and, sure enough, there was a small bump back there. He had to lean forward to make sure he wasn’t bullshitting and it wasn’t just a keloid. Pinching it to double check, it was clear there was metal embedded beneath the skin. “See how easy it is to answer a question? Could’ve saved you a lot of grief these past few days,” he said, releasing his grip on the queue.

He removed the knife from the sheath on his chest and brought the point to Ja’s flesh. He had Norm hold his arm out of the way to maneuver the blade, making Ja’s face tighten from the pain of both the cut and his bindings tightening.

“It’s too late to deactivate it,” Ja muttered. “They’re gonna come.”

“I’m counting on it,” Jake replied, using Ja’s shirt to wipe the blood from the tracker. “Norm?”

“Yeah?”

“Spence is just past the treeline to the north of the village. Can you get her tracker? Talk to her?”

Norm glanced at Ja, whose expression had shifted slightly upon hearing the information, “Should you be saying that in front of him?”

“He hasn’t had any water. If that or gangrene hasn’t killed him by the time we send the RDA packing, I’ll slit his throat myself.”

Norm nods, giving Ja a lingering look before he goes. Something unspoken passes between them in that eye contact, but he doesn’t entirely understand it.

The first thing he feels as consciousness slowly returns to his mind is the persistent headache and the acrid taste in his mouth. Then his eyes fly open as something sharp cuts into him. He almost thinks it’s just a part of the headache, until he opens his mouth to see Jake Sully digging a knife into his head.

Mansk is sure he’s moments from death. His body acted on instinct, kicking blindly at the man in front of him until he felt his foot connect with flesh. The knife slipped as Jake stumbled back, leaving a gash and taking the tip of Mansk’s ear with it. Blood flows freely down his neck and he feels something bounce off his shoulder and fall to the ground.

Jake knelt to pick it up, holding a small metal device in front of his eyes. “I see the moss has worn off. If you’d been a little calmer, I could’ve gotten this out without taking your ear off with it.”

He twitches his ear to make sure it’s still there. “Fmmph mm!” He forgot they glued his mouth shut with a leaf after shoving that foul shit down his throat.

“Right. Can’t interrogate you if you can’t speak.” Jake rips it from his mouth, the sound and pain of it ripping at his skin like the strongest tape. “I hope you’ll be more forthcoming than your friends. Even with part of your ear missing, they’re bleeding more than you.”

“ Fuck you!” Mansk spat out the moss and shouted in Na’vi to make sure it hit close to home. His mouth was so dry that bits of the plant stuck to the inside of his mouth.

Jake snorted. “ They are teaching you Na’vi? Even your cursing sounds like a child’s words. ” He again wiped the blood from the tracker on his captive’s shirt, then placed it with the other one in the pouch at his hip.

Mansk just hissed in response.

“You should tell me something instead of breaking my streak. The others already cracked and revealed your trackers and that there’s gonna be more of you even after we kill you.” Jake shrugged, “I’m more curious to see what you’ll give me than what beating you will glean. Threatening your friends worked pretty well on one of you.”

“Why the hell should I tell you anything?”

“Threats it is, then.” Jake cleared his throat, “Do you want to watch them die? The three of you are going to die slowly and painfully from dehydration, and I have no problem making sure you watch that happen.”

Mansk tightened his fist, infuriated that he could do nothing to retaliate, “You’re a sick bastard.”

Jake spoke to the two guards to make them hold his legs still while he stepped forward and closed his hand around his throat. “You’re one to talk. I know what you are, Mansk. You’re a fucking murderer. Now give me something before I drag your friends over here and kill them in front of you.”

“You’d have made a good recom. Shame,” Mansk’s voice is strained from being choked.

His only response is the grip on his throat tightening.

“It’s more than just us, y’know. There’s entire other squads of recoms. We won’t just stop when we’ve killed you, either, we’re gonna wipe out your entire little ‘Resistance.’”

Jake snarled, moving his hand down to grip his shirt collar and punched him so hard that his own shoulder pulled against its socket. He felt Mansk’s nose break under his fist, and the skin of his cheek split from the impact. He pulled back to hit him again, but stopped. He was running out of time, and he’d learned enough to lay the plans for the coming battle. He released the man and left him without another word, heading north.

The embrace is cut shorter than Noah wanted it to be, but there was so much they wanted to say and so little time. They pull back and wipe Spence’s tears. “We missed you so much. I’ve missed you.”

Spence sniffed, trying to will away the tears from her bleary eyes, “Me, too. Fuck. I’ve wanted nothing more than to see you again, but I–I was also hoping I wouldn’t . I promised Kevin I’d protect you, but seeing you now, like this, is about the least safe place you could be, and—”

“No, it isn’t. Nowhere’s safe as long as the RDA is here, Phoebe,” their voice is stern, like they’re scolding her. “You’re still the same person, you could still join us.”

“I…” her voice dropped, “I’m not so sure that I am. I have her memories, but… I don’t know. I don’t know.” She breathed shakily, looking into Noah’s eyes, “I’ve done so many terrible things. Jake and his wife wouldn’t let me even if I did switch sides.”

Noah is about to respond when something behind Spence catches their eye. They step aside to make room for whoever is approaching, and she assumes it’s Jake, but…

It feels like she’s been hit with a truck. Two of the people she loved most in the world were dead, and here were two more, now years older than her. Her mouth opened and closed, eyes wide, but she couldn’t find the words.

He also found it hard to speak. Silently he removed his knife from its sheath, gripping it tightly.

Noah grabbed his wrist, “What the hell are you doing?”

“H–her tracker,” he finally finds his voice. “We’re taking their trackers out.”

“You should’ve said so. Hold on,” they reach into one of the multiple pouches at their waist and pull out two small mushrooms, holding them up to Spence. “Here, eat this. It’ll numb the pain.”

She nods, as much as one can in the way she is tied up, and opens her mouth for Noah to put the mushrooms on her tongue. They taste bad, but almost as soon as she begins to chew, the sting of the cut on her abdomen begins to subside. Norm leans in to make the incision behind her ear. She can feel his warm breath against her cheek, and her heart clenches at the thought of missing him, what they had. She’d thought of him all the time since waking up in this new life, but never truly came to terms with it. It almost seemed like he wasn’t entirely lost to her, despite the years and how much they’d changed; until she noticed the wedding band.

He finished and pulled the tracker from her skin before he noticed her staring at his ring. Noah sees it too and pats his shoulder, mumbling something about looking for a dapophet; definitely just making an excuse to give them a moment.

“Their name is Kotisu,” Norm said while he wiped the blood from his knife and the tracker. “They know I still think about you both, but they lost people in the war too. Their entire clan. We helped each other grieve, and now we have a family together.”

Spence’s throat bobbed as she swallowed thickly. He cupped her jaw gently while he pressed a cloth to the wound he caused.

“You should’ve come with us that day. I spent so long mourning you, and now you’re here again.”

“I know,” she finally said. “I’m so sorry.”

Noah returned then, feeling they’d interrupted something deeply intimate. They clear their throat, startling Norm, and he takes a large step back. Spence’s cheek feels cold in the absence left by his hand.

“Eat this,” Noah held a dapophet pod up to Spence, “It helps with healing, and hydration. Both of which you need.”

She whispered her thanks and bit into it, feeling pathetic for needing to be hand fed. She’s never tried one before, but it’s refreshing, and instantly quenches her gnawing thirst. When she’s managed to eat about half of the pod, Noah takes their knife and slices off a portion, carefully applying its aloe-like insides to the inflamed cut on her side. It still hurt, but the cooling aspect of it felt nice.

Norm cleared his throat. Unease knits his brows together, and there’s no easy way to ask it, so he just throws it out there, “So, how much do you remember?”

Spence bit her lip, realizing exactly how hypocritical she’s about to sound once she admits how closely together her almost-defection and her upload occurred. “We uploaded a couple hours before they rolled the gunships toward the tree. I barely had any kind of plan, but I figured I could either convince Brown and Ja to help me, or…” her sentence trailed off, and she stared past Norm and Noah as she thought about what she may have had to do back then. “I never got the chance. I don't remember my death, but I— w-we found the footage.”

They both go still. They didn’t see it, but they knew how she went out, even if Jake could hardly bear to tell them what happened. Noah pulled out the necklace that was hidden beneath the fabric wrapped around their chest in the Na’vi style. On it, Spence could see two thin metal plates— dog tags. One was Z-dog’s, the other was her own. Norm pulled his from his pocket as well; again one was hers, but the other was Trudy’s.

Tears welled in her eyes again, “ You took them?”

Noah nodded, “We wanted to bury you, but… the way the Samson crashed, I couldn’t get you out. I only got to bury Z.”

That’s when she finally noticed the old watch on their wrist. The band was fraying and mostly held together with brightly colored thread, and the clock face was shattered, but it was Kevin’s watch, also taken from her corpse. She smiled sadly.

“Phoebe,” Norm says to get her attention, voice serious. “So, if you die and come back again, the next you will still remember helping us escape? If he was telling the truth, they could bring you back.”

“Mansk already told you about that?”

He paused. She doesn’t know they have Ja, he remembered. It’s probably wise to keep it that way, to make sure she trusts them without finding out Jake has been beating her best friend to all hell. “Yeah.”

She nodded, not wanting to think about what they must have done to get him to talk. Maybe that scream was him, after all. “I’ll remember. But if I die, it’s back to square one. No one’s said anything about us uploading again, so I won’t remember I already came back. I won’t remember speaking to you.”

Noah grabs her shoulders, “That can’t happen, Phoebe. You can help us! Remember what’s right .”

Spence’s lips part, but no words come out. She knows they’re right. Noah was always right, especially when it came to giving her advice. If there was ever a time to take it, it was now. But she couldn't, could she? She could never turn her weapon on the people she cared about, even if the only ones left on the RDA’s side were Mansk and Lyle. And then there was Amari away at some mining outpost. Would Ardmore even bother with a rescue? She would hardly want to risk it, and if she did, they would need more recoms. Whoever was sent out here for that, be it Ripper Squad or a revived Blue One, she’d have to fight them if she joined Jake. Betraying the RDA and Ardmore was one thing, but these people who had been brought back from the dead alongside her were like family.

But so was Noah.

She hadn’t noticed Jake’s approach while her mind flooded with these thoughts. It was only when she looked up, about to voice some of her inner turmoil, that she saw him to Norm’s right.

“I–I don’t know if I can,” she said, unable to drag her eyes away from Jake.

He sighs, not so much out of disappointment as expectation. He saw it coming. “Of course. Should’ve known.”

Norm turns to him, “We can’t expect her to decide this immediately, Jake. It took you months to realize it’s what you even wanted—”

“We don’t have months! We’ll be lucky if we even have days.

“Jake,” Noah begs, “please. You can’t keep pretending like she doesn’t mean anything to you, we have to try! Just let me keep talking to her.”

His nose twitches, ears flat against his head. “It doesn’t matter, it’s out of my hands.” He scrubs his hand across his face. They look empty, exhausted. “They’ll all be executed soon enough. That was the compromise for Tonowari and Ronal to let them stay. And look how well that panned out,” he held his hand out to Norm, who dropped Spence’s tracker into his palm. “They’ll likely force you guys out after this is done, too.”

“What? You aren’t thinking of fighting , are you?” Spence asks them, and the only response she gets is the three of them looking at her; Norm looks nauseous. “No, you need to run, you can’t fight them. Just— just let me help you again! I can distract them while you get everyone away from here.”

“No, Spence,” Jake says. “I’m done running. You want to be complicit? Fine, don’t help us. But we have a plan, and we’re going to beat them back when they come. Just remember you were too much of a coward to rebel when you had the chance.” He doesn’t wait for her to get a word in, or for the others to say anything, he just leaves. His words feel like he’d just plunged a knife into Spence’s chest.

Chapter Text

The briefing room is already crowded when the recoms push through the doors, most needing to bow their heads to avoid smacking them on the doorframe. Despite Ardmore’s adamance that they receive no support from the fleets, soldiers and scientists alike have filled the place to listen in before the recoms could even take their seats, leaving the ten of them to lean against the walls. None of the SecOps guys put in much effort at all to hide the fact they were mocking the larger blue soldiers, but a glare from Colonel Anderson and a toothy smile from Chase as their hands rested on their pistols shut most of them up.

The general leans over an Ops Halo Station at the center of the room, a piece of tech from Hell’s Gate that was too outdated for use in Bridgehead’s command center but worked perfectly fine for the sort of small-scale ops that get briefed in this room; like this. Her strategists buzzed around her like mosquitoes, their words too hurried and info-dense for most people to be paying attention while they flit around the table, adjusting and refining the image being projected. One of them looked like they were nearly about to faint when the image went wavy and flickered off, but Ardmore simply smacked the side of the Halo Station and it stabilized. She waved them away, and the three of them immediately skittered off to the farthest side of the room from the recoms.

“What you’re looking at,” she started, making sure her voice projected throughout the whole room, “is satellite imagery of the Eastern Sea. Here’s where one of our SeaDragons sank and good men and women were lost,” she looked pointedly at Quaritch before swiping across the controls at the base of the table and panning the image northward to a medium-sized group of islands surrounded by terraced seawalls. With the press of another button, three red dots appeared on top of the holographic projection of the largest island in the group. Ja, Mansk, Spence. Ardmore continued, “Three trackers have made their way to this island, so we can presume the two previously assumed to have survived, Corporal Spence and PFC Mansk, have been captured by the enemy. Private Ja was thought to have been killed in action, but based on his tracker being in the same place, you must be prepared for the possibility that he is alive as well. This will be considered an extraction mission. Jake Sully is not the focus.” She paused to let it sink in and allow questions. When a hand was raised, however, she grimaced like she did not want the question at all; she nodded to them anyway.

It was Connor, looking the most anxious of the ten. His free hand rolled a coin across his knuckles. “If this is just an extraction, why have we been set up with so many incendiaries? Firepower like that is usually for when you want us to kill someone.” He bit his lip as he finished his question, but upon noticing how angry Ardmore looked — as if she wasn’t always — he quickly followed it up with a shaky “M-Ma’am.”

“For a diversion. You’ll be broken up into three teams— two in the water, four on the ground, and four in the air. Colonel Anderson, you’ll lead the ground team. And Quaritch, you’re in the air. Your team will bomb the village, creating both a distraction and taking out many of their resources and warriors in the process. That’s when the ground team will land on the northern beach, clearing a path for the divers to slip onto the island and get the assets to the extraction point here,” she pointed to an islet a few dozen meters off the western coast of the island.

She continued, “A three-pronged attack. My strategists have taken to calling this mission ‘Operation Trident,’ as a nod to both the weapon used in fishing villages like this one, and its historic symbolism to militaries on Earth.”

Eyes around the room rolled at the cheesy name. Project Phoenix, the Boot Hill base in the desert, and now Operation Trident. They were all a bit too on the nose, but the RDA didn’t pay its strategists to come up with clever names.

“How are you splitting the ground and air squads?” Quaritch asked, not bothering to ask for permission to speak.

She clenched her jaw, fighting off the urge to say something very cruel to him in front of the entire room. “Your own people will be with you in the air, sans Zdinarsk. She and Lance Corporal Chase comprise the diving team. Private Dragunov will be her replacement. Everyone else is on the ground with Anderson.”

He nodded. The general was obviously assigning his squad in this way to keep them from fucking up Anderson’s oh-so-superior leadership, but at least this way the chances of his own soldiers dying again was lessened. He’ll take it, even if it was begrudgingly so.

Lyle’s eyes flicked to his right. Z-dog was one of the two that Quaritch had chosen to resurrect, and it made his stomach turn. He’d seen her corpse in the water before he left, spotting her tattooed arms from afar. He was glad she was back, of course, but this impermanence of death felt so wrong.

“The rest of you, out,” she turned and ordered everyone else in the room, “get back to work.” Once all the humans — except for the strategists, who returned to the Halo Station and hovered over the controls — had vacated the room, Ardmore motioned for the ten recombinant soldiers to take seats in front of her. “We expect Sully and his rebels are already preparing for your arrival, and we also suspect they have at least one spy amongst our ranks. Operation Trident will be organized in the way I laid out, but the order of operations was a decoy to mislead anyone who may be leaking or planning to leak information to the Resistance.”

Anderson’s eyebrows raised, “You think we have a mole?”

“Mole or not, from now on we must assume there’s a leak. We can’t afford to get too comfortable.” She turned to her assistant Dorman scornfully, “That means no more open briefings.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered.

She returned her attention to the recoms, “Your blue teams are the only ones I can count on to not have rebellious sympathies. Now, here’s the real plan.”

She laid it all out, complete with more complex mapping, models, and simulated battles on the Halo Station that she did not employ when giving the initial briefing. The divers would make their way from Three Brothers Rock to the seawall via small Diver Propulsion Vehicles, nicknamed Piranhas, before stowing them and traveling through the tunnels beneath the seawall that Dr. Garvin had mapped in his time conducting marine research before discovering amrita. From there, they would conduct reconnaissance and observation of the island from afar before regrouping back at Three Brothers. Ideally, this would all occur during the eclipse, and there would be no confrontations with the Na’vi; if there was, they had to get to the surface as quickly as possible and fire a flare that would alert the other two teams.

Once the divers returned safely, the air team would take off after nightfall and drop bombs on the village, just as Ardmore had described in the decoy plan. Before takeoff, they would ensure that the trackers' location was not in the village. If they were, the bombing would be moved to the edges of the village, cutting off forest access; that was plan B. Plan A had the divers stealth their way onto the island from the opposite side, toward the captives, and the ground team would stay out of combat as a contingency plan— in the event Plan B was needed, the ground team would need to land in the thick of it to provide cover fire for the divers who would be entering the village directly from the water.

There were more backup plans for possible contingencies — including alternate extraction points — as the strategists wanted the recoms to be as prepared as possible with their lack of manpower and weaponry. Ardmore let them deliver the rest, as she had no hand in the myriad schemes they came up with. 

All she had to say when they finished was “Just don’t screw this up.” She didn’t look directly at Quaritch or Lyle, but it was obviously meant more so for them than anyone else. Then they were dismissed.

Wiggling out of ropes wasn’t as easy as movies always made it seem. Granted no one in a movie ever got tied with their hands behind their head and secured around an exposed nerve ending extending from the base of their skull, but still. Mansk had spent all morning wiggling his wrists back and forth, as much as he dared to without sending jolts of pain from straining the binds around his queue too much. He had managed to loosen them just a bit, however, enough so that the ropes no longer bit into his skin. He couldn’t see them, but he was sure that his wrists were raw and bloody from the hours spent rubbing.

The guards must have tied his feet to the pole during the night to prevent him from kicking at Jake again, and he could just barely see them in his periphery if he strained his eyes. He figured he should give his arms a rest and loosen those, too, if he was gonna have any hope of actually getting out without falling flat on his face. Just as he began pulling at the rope, less gently than he should have been, someone appeared in front of him. He hadn’t noticed their approach, focused as he was on the idea of escape.

Mansk hadn’t seen Noah since he pointed his gun at them the morning of the ambush. It had only been a few months, but it felt like a lifetime ago now.

They looked at him without an ounce of empathy, taking in his broken nose, the dried blood stuck to his hair, and bruised face disdainfully. “You look like shit,” they said plainly.

“Did you just come here to insult me, or ya gonna add some punches on top too?” He had always been a little too urban for a thick accent and too reserved to let loose what little drawl he had, but he was now far too exhausted to care anymore if that little bit of Virginia slipped out.

“I can do that.” Their words had none of the usual sarcasm that Mansk remembered. It felt closer to the sort of sly threat Quaritch would make, but without so much as a smirk.

He clenched his jaw and braced himself, “Get on with it, then.”

Noah crossed their arms, making no move to hit him. “There’s no point if you’re basically asking me to.” They leaned forward, their tone of voice shifting to something colder, “But believe that I am capable of it, even of things Jake might not do.”

“You're bluffing.” Even as he said it, he wasn't so sure.

“Am I?” They removed the knife from the sheath at their waist. It was quite beautiful, all things considered, hand-carved from a glassy rock that reflected the light like a crystal. They pressed the tip to his neck, just below the jaw. It's sharp enough that a small trickle of blood trailed down. “How about now?”

A grunt left Mansk’s throat. “Tell me, did you threaten your brother like this in the end? Or did you just throw him to the wolves?”

It was a rather stupid thing to say to them while they pressed a blade to his throat, Noah thought. Their grip tightened, knuckles turning white as their face contorted in rage. But they didn't move to kill him. “You seriously still blame me for that? I should run this knife through your throat just for suggesting it.” They pulled the dagger away, “But I won't. I could make it worse for you. Maybe you won't care if I hurt you , but your two friends? I could kill them as easily as you.”

“Like you killed Kevin, right?” 

“Oh, sure,” they spat. “Except this could be much worse if I let you watch. Right?”

That almost convinced him. It would have, if there was any chance Noah didn't know who the other prisoners were. They would never hurt Spence, and he said as much, “I know you have Spence. You should get better at lying if you want me to believe you, or pick a different one.”

Noah removed the knife, replacing it with a fist squeezing his collar and jerking him down closer to their height. They watched his face twist with pain and nausea in response, but they ignored it. “Phoebe betrayed us, betrayed me .” Mansk doesn't know the truth. “She's killed people, same as the rest of you. Why should I hesitate to kill her any more than I would you?” There's no way she told him — any of them — what she'd been planning back then. Right? They blinked away that trickle of doubt. 

Mansk wheezed. It may have been intended to be a laugh. “You think you're better than us,” he stated, not asked. “You're just as deep in the shit as the rest of us, yet you act like you don't have blood on your hands too, Noah. We all saw what you did. That footage? Brutal stuff.”

“Tangina mo rin eh,” Noah said with venom. He didn't fully understand the words, but had spent enough time with Kevin while he was alive to know they were cursing him out. “Last I recall, we aren't colonizing Pandora. We aren't driving people from their homes, drilling the life out of the land, setting villages on fire. Or killing. Innocent. People.” They punctuated the last three words carefully, making sure they sunk in, before releasing him and stepping back. “Gee, I wonder which of us is doing all that?” They tapped their chin in sarcastic thought.

He doesn’t reply, throat sore from their strangling. There was nothing to say, anyway. They’re right. It wasn’t the first time Noah chewed Mansk out for something he’d done, but all those other times it had been something to do with mutual friends. But this? War wasn’t some stupid relationship drama, it was people’s lives. And he’d taken them. But what other choice did he have, really? His own life would be lost if he turned against his mission, along with all of humanity. Maybe peace agreements could be reached one day. He didn’t say that, though, knowing it would likely upset Noah even more, instead closing his eyes to focus on the pain in his head and neck.

Noah waited for him to respond; they wanted him to do so. After a few minutes, they curled a fist and glared up at him, “Nothing to say for yourself? Really?” 

He shook his ever so slightly, inviting a new wave of pain, in response. “You’re right,” he admitted.

“And you’re a motherfucking coward, Devin.” They didn't wait for a response this time, their tail swishing behind them angrily as they walked away from him.

Coward. He would have nodded if the ropes allowed it.

No human alive on Earth today has ever seen a clean, blue ocean; not in person, anyway. But for the low, low cost of the rest of your life and a six year journey through space, you can see oceans cleaner and more beautiful than Earth’s have been in centuries. So it was kind of a big deal to the eight newborn recombinant soldiers that they were currently traveling over the glittering blue expanse. For Quaritch and Lyle, it was just a reminder, same as the forest was, of everything they’d lost and could still lose.

The fortunate thing for all of them was that they had plenty of time to take multiple breaks on the way to their goal, and that the further out they got, the less Na’vi they had to worry about in the air. The unfortunate part was the angry sunburn already turning much of their skin shades of indigo only halfway through the journey, and the island they had just touched down on lacked much shade. It was empty of people, at least. 

The banshees and their riders alighted near the only copse of trees on the island. The midday eclipse was drawing near, and they needed some place to set up camp and ride out the darkness. Connor, having originally been recruited and educated by the RDA for showing exceptional talent in engineering from a young age, was able to make many things with whatever was on hand; a fire was just basic. Lunch at “night” felt odd, but Z-dog and Kuboyama — who had more in common than either cared to admit — managed to make a meal from the MREs that almost looked edible. They had packed enough of them for twelve people to last on for days, so rationing wasn’t an issue they would need to face unless they became stranded. Most of the rest tended to their gear or banshees, or collected water from where it had pooled in the cup-shaped leaves of the trees.

Chloe, meanwhile, stood stock-still. She kept one eye on the moonlit waves, a sight she remembered loving when she was a human on Earth, and the other on the tablet Anderson had put in her hands. “Tell me if anything changes,” he’d ordered. That was around thirty minutes ago; nothing had changed on the screen in that time except for the clock in the upper-right corner. Things around her changed, though. A few of the banshees had curled up together to take a nap. The food was almost done, though Chloe had made no move to collect her portion. Freddie had appeared beside her as well, refusing to leave her side since she revealed she felt nothing. The only things she felt were through her senses: the smell of the sea, the cool breeze contrasting the sand that was still warm from the sun, Freddie’s hand wrapped around her bare ankle, him rambling on about things they did as humans. He’d never been big on physical affection, as far as Chloe remembered, but she was always the one he’d come to if ever he needed it. Now he sat beside her in the sand and leaned his head against her thigh, maneuvering her hand to tangle in his dark wavy hair. He wanted her to run her fingers through it the way she used to. He wanted his best friend back. Instead, her fingers were stiff as a corpse in his hair, and all he could do was sit with her, helpless to help her.

It almost hurt to watch. Chloe had been one of very few people that just about everybody in SecOps liked, and Freddie stood in stark contrast to her; yet they’d been inseparable since they met. Even if she died and was replaced like the two that Ardmore had allowed Quaritch to reinstate, who knew if she could ever be normal again? Or if it couldn’t happen to one of them, next issue? Barquilla set his food down on the large piece of driftwood he leaned against, silencing the thoughts of the possibility of her death. Even if the next Chloe was as she should be, he couldn’t let her die. He can’t let any of them die.

While he stared at her, lost in his thoughts, Chloe turned and locked eyes with him. She looked like some freakish owl, the way her eyes reflected the light from Polyphemus. A shiver ran down his spine. Her lips moved, but the crash of the waves and crackle of the fire were too loud to hear it. Freddie heard it though, and he shot up from his spot at her side and took her hand, leading her over to where everyone could hear. This caught their attention, waylaying their meal while she turned the datapad toward them all.

“They’re moving,” Chloe stated simply. 

Anderson and Quaritch stood, the former taking the datapad before the latter could get to it. Sure enough, the three dots representing their comrades’ trackers were on the move.

“They’re together…” Anderson mumbled, barely audible through his mask.

Quaritch peered over his fellow Colonel’s shoulder, “You think they escaped?”

Anderson pressed a button to project a more detailed, 3d holographic map for the rest to see. The dots were heading straight north, toward the opposite end of the island. “Possibly. Or Sully and his people are moving them, expecting our arrival like the General said. We have to be prepared for either.”

“Mansk is in no shape to fly,” Lyle chimed in, “and Spence’s ride is dead. They have no shot of getting off that island by themselves.”

Barquilla snorted, “So, what, a Na’vi saw the good in their hearts and decided to help them?”

“Or an avatar, maybe.” Lyle frowned, “They had friends in the program… So did I.”

“Doubt it,” Quaritch said. “You killed their boy, no chance of them takin’ pity on us now. They had the chance to seek pardon for their crimes when the RDA first got here, and they wasted it.

Lyle’s stomach dropped at the reminder of what he’d done, at it being stated so casually in front of everyone. He wrapped up his food, seeing no way he could finish it with the way guilt and dread twisted his insides, and held it out to whoever wanted it. Freddie gladly snatched it from his hands.

A shadow cut briefly across the bright face of Polyphemus, but none of them took much notice, thinking it was just a dorado verde or something similarly unconcerning. What they didn't see was the chin crest marking it as an ikran, or the rider flattening themself upon its back, their thumb and forefinger pressed to the communicator at their throat. 

The sun is brighter when it re-emerges from behind Naranawm. Kiri, despite her lack of interest in much of anything, helped Spider make a balm to protect his skin from the sun, what with the lack of thick, dense jungles to do most of the protecting for him. Between the Seadragon voyage and his new home in Awa’atlu, his skin was already tanning. At least now he would avoid burning.

He slipped out of the Sully marui as soon as the sun showed itself, dashing across the woven walkways while trying not to look too hurried. The kids were very good at eavesdropping on their parents, and had overheard Jake talking about moving the trackers— and where his prisoners were held. While he didn't want to admit it, one in particular concerned him a great deal.

Under normal circumstances, Spider would have already started exploring the island, going further and further into its jungles and coves each day. These weren't normal circumstances. He hadn't yet been outside the village, what with the strict curfew and supervision while everyone prepared for the worst, and it was jarring how quickly it went from beach to jungle. His destination lay just within the thick of trees.

The only prisoners, of war or otherwise, that Spider had ever seen were himself and Zu’ap. Both of them could roam mostly-free, and weren't even confined to their rooms for much of the day. Here, on the other hand… She was facing away from him, but he could see immediately how horrible it was. His eyes went first to her wrists bound behind her head, then the way it wrapped tightly around her queue.

The Na’vi keeping guard caught him before he'd even had the chance to walk around to Spence’s front. “ Hey, what are you doing? ”

Luckily, Spider had considered the possibility that he wasn't allowed to be here, and had swiped something to use as a bribe. “ Oh, um— Etewu, right? Your friend told me to bring you this! ” He held up the clay jug in his hands, the one used to hold the alcoholic kava.

Etewu — his lack of reaction seemed to confirm he'd gotten the name right — scrutinized him, glancing between his face and the jug. Then it was out of his hands as quickly as blinking. “ You have five minutes, tawtute. Do not be here when I return, ” he hissed, though he looked secretly grateful to have a break.

Spence heard the whole exchange, recognized the human voice that spoke Na’vi so quickly and fluently. When Spider walked into her field of view, her chest tightened. He looked terrible, but much better than how she likely appeared. His messy blonde locs were even more unkempt than usual, the dark circles under his eyes looked like massive purple bruises, and most of his signature blue body paint had completely worn away. She opened her mouth to speak — she had no idea what she would even say — but he held up a hand to stop her.

“Just tell me…” his voice was small, but not weak. This kid was never weak. “Just tell me it wasn’t you.” He didn’t specify, but the meaning was obvious. The boy, Neteyam.

Jake’s voice when he told Spence his son’s name still rang in her ears from the day before, unimaginable pain in his delivery. Neteyam. Neteyam. Neteyam. She wasn’t the one who shot him, had never even seen him, but her part in it was already so hard to live with.

“N—” the word died on her tongue. She licked her lips, cracked and dry from dehydration, and tried again. “No,” she rasped.

His eyes bore into hers, searching for any scrap of a lie. He must have believed her because he didn’t say anything else for a long moment.

She found herself speaking again, the words practically jumping out of her mouth. “I already told Jake that it— it was Lyle. I don't know if he would've told you that. Or that he… he killed Quaritch.” She took a slow, shaky breath before continuing, “I’m sorry.”

That snapped Spider out of his silence. “For what?” His face was unnaturally pale as a chill swept across his body, despite the hot day. “You didn’t kill my baby brother,” he didn’t need to explain to her that the Sully kids were like siblings to him, “and… you aren’t the one who saved Quaritch’s life.”

“For everything.” She wanted to cry, even though she knew it’d be pathetic, but nothing came. “For your brother, for capturing you, making you translate while we did horrible things, for ever coming out of that fucking test tube they made us in. You’re just a kid, you… you… wait. Wait,” the specific wording of his last sentence clicked in Spence’s mind, stealing away her train of thought. “What do you mean?”

Spider looked like he was going to be sick. “Forget I said anything. Don't tell anyone, please.”

Spence's jaw hung open. “Spider, what did you do?”

“Something stupid,” he hissed at her through his teeth. “I know he'll kill more people, but when I saw him I just, I—” his voice broke. He was barely holding it together, this massive secret. He could be banished, if anyone found out, and what would a human boy do alone in the forest, hundreds of miles from home? “I couldn't just let him die like that, Spence.”

They both had more to say, more questions and revelations to be had, but their time was nearly up. The last remaining minute Spider had been given for his bribery would be interrupted; shouts in the distance followed by snapping branches and rustling leaves, then a thud as something fell heavily into the foliage just at the edge of the treeline. A weak cry of pain followed. Spider and Spence exchanged anxious glances, before Spider drew his knife and turned toward the source of the noise. He could take on a lone animal, even a carnivorous one, and especially if it was wounded.

Instead of claw or talon, a cobalt hand emerged from the underbrush and dug its fingers into the dirt. Too large to be one of Sully’s kids. Not a reef Na’vi. Not a Na’vi at all, actually— five fingers. A second arm claws its way out of the foliage, dragging the rest of the body behind it. The shouts were getting closer.

He is almost unrecognizable. Pallid skin, the braid around his queue coming undone, cuts and bruises and dried blood marring his face and body. But it’s him. The moment she lay eyes on his broken body, Spence felt like she couldn't breathe. Her heart pounded against the inside of her ribcage as she watched Ja drag himself out of the underbrush into the open.  It can’t be, I watched him die. He’s dead. I watched him die. Her mind was too overwhelmed with shock to even think about how it could be possible, about how he might have rolled out of the way at the last possible second to avoid being crushed to death by the tulkun. Even as she stared at his mangled, broken leg and tail, it didn’t seem feasible. However bad Spence felt, Ja looked a million times worse. His eyes were bloodshot, and he barely even seemed to see her as they passed over her and Spider. 

He raised a shaky hand to block the sun from blinding him. His head spun, and he had no idea where he was. He could see Spider standing over him, the knife in his hand sharp and angry, and another figure behind him, silhouetted by the unforgiving sun. An angel? He must have died, why else would he be seeing an angel, though he didn’t even believe in God or heaven or any of that. 

Ja faintly heard his name being called. The shapes and colors that formed his vision all seemed so twisted and wrong, making focusing on anything difficult. He looked up at the angel, squinting at the sun to better see them, and finding that they — no, she — looked all too familiar. That was a face he could never forget. He could hardly think, his body moved with little input from his brain. Every cell in his body screamed in agony with the slightest movement, but he managed to pull himself up onto his hands and one good knee.

Spence’s voice was small, unsure if she was really seeing him or if she was hallucinating. “Alex, is—” she choked up, “—is that you?”

He looked at her, though his eyes seemed unfocused. His throat was far too dry to speak, but the croak that left his lips may have been a “yes.”

“Oh, my god,” she said, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. He was alive. Broken, tattered, and starved, but alive. For just a moment she let herself stop worrying about what would happen when the RDA inevitably arrived, thinking instead how she would keep him alive. She would do it, no matter the cost. She had to. If Ja had managed to get out of wherever he had been tied up, then she could too.

“Spider,” she said quickly, stumbling over his name, “please. Cut me down.”

The boy looked between her and the broken recom at his feet. Ja hadn’t been the nicest, but he was far from cruel. He gripped the blade in his  hand a little tighter, holding it in front of himself defensively; as if either of them posed any threat whatsoever. “I…” He’d already let one recombinant live. The worst of them all. How much more blood would be on his hands if he cut Spence down, let her take Ja and run? If they even managed to evade capture, which they wouldn’t. Not with how injured Ja was. “I wish I…” Spider shook his head. “I can’t. You know I can’t.”

“They’re going to kill us, Spider. Please —”

Her pleading is cut off by the pursuers catching up with Ja, bows and spears pointed at both of them. One of them looked a hell of a lot like Jake, and far too young to be there. His other son, Spence presumed. Jake himself followed soon after, scowling at his son before heading straight for Spider.

“What the hell are you doing?” Jake’s voice was angry, but underneath that was a tone of fear. He dropped his spear and grabbed Spider’s shoulders.

Spider couldn’t say anything at first, watching as Etewu and two other Na’vi pinned down and restrained Ja. They pushed his face into the dirt, but he refused to look away from Spence, eyes blazing in a way that was hard to describe. Spider had only ever seen Jake look at Neytiri like that, or one time Norm and Kotisu after the latter had been hurt in battle. That must be the kind of love you would die to protect.

He finally dragged his eyes away, meeting Jake’s intense gaze. “Why didn’t you tell me Wainfleet killed him?” His voice came out unexpectedly small.

“What?” Jake’s hand slipped from his shoulder.

“I came because I needed to hear it from her mouth,” Spider nodded toward Spence. “I needed to know she didn’t kill Neteyam.”

The man sighed before standing once more, “You could have come to me.”

He didn’t want to act like a jackass, or ungrateful for being taken in by his family, but Spider couldn’t help rolling his eyes at Jake. He earned a scowl in response before Jake turned away from him.

He barked orders at Fìrfyan, who looked just as bewildered as she had when she’d brought an unconscious Ja to the island days prior. She knew by now not to second guess anything he said, not after she was too cowardly to kill the sky demon, and immediately knelt to tie Ja’s wrists behind his back before threading his kuru through the knot and tightening it. It was a crueler method than how he had been restrained before, but would prevent him from loosening his binds again. The more he struggled, the tighter the knot became. The tighter the knot, the more restricted the blood flow in his kuru would be. If he tried to escape again, he could lose it entirely. They wouldn’t need to worry again about underestimating his ability to escape; he couldn’t.

Once Ja was secured, Etewu opened the pouch at his waist and removed a clump of reddish-brown moss. He had Fìrfyan hold his mouth open so he could shove it into the back of his throat, and it took both of them to hold his mouth shut so he wouldn’t spit it out. With his injuries, he was out in a matter of seconds.

Spence had been speechless while everything unfolded in front of her, but this set her off, “What did you? What was that!?” She didn’t care that none of the Na’vi could speak her language, she didn’t care anymore about the children that had gotten mixed up into this, and she certainly didn’t care that Jake wanted her to join his Resistance. “Jake!” She pulled at her restraints, ignoring the surges of pain the action sent through her body, “What the fuck did you do to him!”

“Calm down,” Jake said as the four Na’vi that had restrained him picked him up and hauled him off in the direction he’d come from. “Hawprwll is just a sedative. He’ll have slept it off by the time your friends have come and gone.” 

“But you’ll—” the fury in her voice died just as quickly as it erupted. “You’ll kill us at that point.”

He shrugged, “There’s still time to change your mind. I only offered it to you, but if the other two want to follow you, they can.”

It was almost laughable. He had always hated Mansk and Ja and the rest of her SecOps friends, only pretending to like them for her sake, and now here he was offering them, what? Amnesty? After what they’d done since being revived? He had to be joking. Maybe he was. But with how deadset he and Noah had been on getting her on their side, maybe he wasn’t. It could just be his way of sweetening the deal for her. It was still impossible, he should know that. And now, with their injuries, they could all die even if no one did them the favor of putting them out of their misery.

Jake took her silence as answer enough and turned away from her, focusing his attention on the boys. His son had stayed behind when the other Na’vi left, seemingly waiting for Spider. He refused to look his father in the eye. “What part of ‘stay away from the prisoners’ do you two not understand?” 

The boy rolled his eyes, unnocking the arrow from his bow and aiming it away from Spence. “I'm too old for you to treat me like a kid. What can she do, anyway? She's tied up.”

“That, Lo’ak!” Jake threw his hands in the direction they had just hauled Ja away in. “They're more dangerous than him, they don't have crushed legs. If they escaped, they’d—” The air rushed out of his chest, refusing to be shaped into the words of what horrible fate may befall his surviving sons if a recom got ahold of him again.

Lo’ak, Spence now knew he was called, shook his head and hung his bow from his shoulder. He was a dead ringer for his father, and it seemed he'd inherited his attitude as well. “Whatever. I could take her.”

Spence found herself snorting. He was, what, 14? 15? If she weren't tied up, he wouldn't stand a chance. Not that she wanted to fight him, or even expected to. “She can hear you, y’know,” she said sarcastically. All sass in her voice quickly bled away when the three of them turned to her, face flushing in shame as Jake and Lo’ak glared at her, but Spider looked at her like he was… worried? Why would he worry, after all she'd done? The kid was too caring for his own good. 

“Come on,” Jake spoke gruffly. He nudged Spider before scruffing Lo’ak and maneuvering him in the opposite direction they'd come from. “You two are grounded.”

“Can you even ground Spider?” Lo’ak bit back with sass.

She listened to the voices disappear behind her, but hardly took in the words. It was probably the best news she'd had in a week, knowing that Alexander had survived. And Quaritch. She wished she could say the same for the others… for Prager. His dried blood was likely still under her fingernails, caked to her palms, staining her clothes. It would have mixed with her own. She feared no amount of scrubbing, if she ever made it off this island, would ever cleanse the feeling of his death from her skin.

An avatar intercepted Jake as he was leaving his marui a while later, after he had just reprimanded his sons. They looked breathless, skin flushed from the effort of rushing over here. Their ikran sat on the beach to their left; they were in such a hurry that they hadn't even bothered landing in the area designated for the High Camp ikrans. 

They leaned against the doorway of the Sully home to catch their breath, grabbing Jake by the elbow just as he was leaving. With how little Ronal wanted the Sky People, even well-meaning ones, involved in their affairs, most of the avatars had taken to patrolling the skies. This person wasn’t even supposed to be back yet as far as Jake knew. 

Their expression gave him pause, knowing it could be nothing good. “What is it,” he asked grimly.

“Those— those soldiers in avatar bodies. Ten of ‘em, flying this way.”

So, it’s happening , Jake thought. He grabbed the hand that held his arm and gripped it tightly. “Listen to me,” he spoke quickly, guiding them away from the door so the children wouldn’t overhear. “Go blow the horn. I’ll go to Tonowari and Ronal, you just make sure everyone hears and gathers. Then radio every avatar in range and call them in. Can you do that?”

They nodded. It was hard not to panic, given the circumstances, especially when Jake’s eyes froze over with his signature sheer determination. They let go of his arm, moving to grip his hand and pat his shoulder. Then, as quickly as they appeared, they were dashing back to the beach, hopping onto their ikran to cut the time it would take to reach the horn in half. Jake left in the opposite direction, making his way down the springy walkways to where he was most likely to find Tonowari.

A few hours more of flight, and the recombinants were bathed in blood-red light as the sun sank below the horizon. They had just arrived at their destination: Three Brothers Rock. It felt appropriate, at least to Colonel Anderson, that their staging area would also be the sight of their great failure. Not his— theirs . He would not allow the same mistakes to be made twice.

He brought out the holopad once more, launching the projected map and adjusting it to show a 3d version of everything below the waves and expanding the field to also include the reef that circled the entire archipelago. With a pen he detached from its side, he could draw arrows in the air that hovered over the map. He drew a star beside the tunnel, followed by a shaky line that snaked its way through the shallow rift valleys on the ocean floor. Then he jerked his arm, and the pen, straight up.

“Was that like a Parkinson’s thing, did you mean to do that?” Freddie said, gesturing to the harsh vertical line.

Connor tilted his head, “Are our new bodies not too young to develop Parkinson’s disease? We’re all biologically twenty—”

“Dude. What does that even mean?”

“It means our bodies are younger than our memories, including our brains. So we’re actually younger than we… were,” he trailed off as Freddie lolled his head back and made fake snoring sounds.

A light smack to the back of the head made him drop the act before Anderson redirected their attention to the top of the line. “That’s two klicks away. You’re going to dive from the backs of your banshees, then approach with the Piranhas.

Had she been drinking anything, Z-dog would have choked on it. “Sorry? Would a dive like that not kill us ? Why don’t Chase and I just get wet here instead of plummeting to our literal deaths, Colonel?”

Anderson glanced across the projection to Connor, expecting him to have the answer. He knew it himself, of course, but he also knew that the younger man enjoyed explaining things.

Connor shot him a small smile before divulging, “Our bones are essentially wrapped in carbon fiber, so it would take an even crazier fall or crushing impact to break us— oh, sorry,” he winced and looked at Quaritch and Lyle as he realized he’d referenced the tulkun’s smackdown on the Seadragon. “But, uh, like I was saying,” he pinched the middle of the vertical line and tilted its top half to a 45-degree angle — something the rest of them had no idea you could do — before continuing, “If you descend before you reach the drop point, you can avoid any impact injuries from the water.”

His Colonel nodded. “Would you like to weigh in, Quaritch, or are you just going to stand there?” He was soft-spoken as ever, but the animosity in his voice was crystal clear.

He had not taken his eyes off those tracker dots since the map was launched. They glowed red in a sea of green and blue holograms, like the three bullet holes he was imagining Jake Sully had already put in them. He had no real reason to keep them alive, Quaritch knew, because they would never tell him anything of substance. The only thing he could think of was Sully trying to get under Spence’s skin, using their shared past and the lives of Mansk and Ja to manipulate her over to his side. That would be a worst case scenario. Her betrayal would…

The train of thought was interrupted by Lyle nudging him with his elbow. Quaritch looked up, realizing he hadn’t responded for far longer than was reasonable. He cleared his throat, hardening his gaze and meeting Anderson’s, “The mission is as the General said. The rules of engagement are this: use lethal force as necessary, and trust me, it’ll be necessary; prioritize keeping the hostages outta the line of fire, always move toward the extraction point; and… if possible, we should—”

“Stop,” Anderson raised a gloved hand, cutting him off harshly. “Don’t even say it, we aren’t here for Sully. If I catch any of you jeopardizing this mission for the sake of personal revenge,” he looked pointedly at Quaritch and his three soldiers, “I’ll shoot you myself before he even gets the chance. Is that clear?”

“Are you trying to pull rank, Anderson?” Quaritch bit back. “You can’t, you answer to me.”

“Not today. Not ever again, in fact, according to Ardmore. Thanks to your little stunt last week, she put me in charge of this mission, and who knows? She could put me above you entirely.

He could have sworn Anderson was smirking underneath that mask.

Their argument might have continued had someone not cleared their throat. Everyone’s attention turned to the man to Quaritch’s right, “The General said to set off a flare if the divers ran into trouble, right? That would just give away their location,” Prager said.

If Z-dog getting brought back unnerved Lyle, Prager’s presence felt even more wrong. He couldn’t even place why. Neither of them were far off from how they were before, and in fact, Prager was even closer to how Lyle remembered him at Hell’s Gate. But then again, he had died. Twice now. Just knowing that must be enough to mess a guy up, especially knowing the love of his life and his best friend were in enemy hands. Ardmore suggested that Quaritch and Lyle should withhold the fact of his previous incarnation’s relationship with the two of them so he could keep a clear head for the extraction, but Lyle doubted it would actually make a difference. How could either of them be clear-headed, knowing they’d died and been brought back twice like it was nothing?

Barquilla interjected before either of the squabbling Colonels could, “Their location would already be known if they ran into Na’vi, jackass.”

“Okay, asshole.”

“ Kol khara , both of you.” Kuboyama rolled their eyes, “Such a boy’s club. When do we set out?”

Anderson glanced from them to Freddie and Z-dog, “As soon as the divers get suited up.”

The dive suits are sleek, black, and made to make a recombinant indistinguishable from a reef Na’vi in the dark water. Fins widened their forelimbs, contributing to both the silhouette and the ease of swimming; the same applied to the flipper attachment on their tails. The oxygen filtration system wrapped around the shoulders and lower rib cage, also adding to the appearance. The suit was also equipped with concealed waterproof pouches and pockets that held everything from flares to first-aid to ammunitions. The only thing that took away from the illusion was the tinted goggles and breathing masks, though from far enough away they would hardly be noticeable. As long as no one got too close, they passed for a local perfectly.

And they looked damn good, too.

The pair of divers certainly weren't friends, but they worked well enough together. They'd spent what little time they'd had training in the water developing non-verbal cues to communicate on a dive and developing a swimming style as fluid and fish-like as the Na’vi’s. Anderson gave them the signal when they were in the right spot to dive, prompting them to tuck their comms and earpieces into the suits, grab the Piranhas, and unlink themselves from their banshees.

The moment they disconnected, it already felt like falling. Completely at the mercy of the beasts below them, they perched on their backs before leaping. They tucked their limbs and hit the water feet-first, cutting through the waves like knives.

Beneath the surface was like a different world. They’d dived plenty in the days leading up to this, but nothing Pandoran could live within Bridgehead’s kill radius— not even underwater. Life filled every inch of their vision, from the reefs to the fish to the particles that drifted past their goggles. Even the water itself was more alive, unpolluted and far less acidic than within city limits.

No creatures took much note of them as they made their way through the blue expanse thanks to the Piranhas being shaped similarly to aquatic mounts that may or may not be called ‘ilus’ — neither of them could remember. They made good time, reaching the tunnel beneath the seawall in just about thirty minutes. There was an indentation just inside its entrance obscured by ferns that allowed them to stow the Piranhas with no real risk of them being found.

Despite it being night-time, the open ocean was lit up by so many glowing plants and creatures that visibility wasn’t a problem. The tunnel had the opposite problem. There was no shortage of life in the passage, with plants covering its every surface, but most of them weren’t glowing. That, combined with how large and cavernous this passage really was, made it shockingly easy to lose their sense of direction. Forward was starting to feel like down, their goal disappearing into the abyss. If not for whoever designed their suits to include lights that mimicked their bioluminescent freckles — likely as an afterthought — Z-dog would have lost track of Freddie’s form swimming ahead of her entirely. It was hard to tell how much time was passing down here. Surely it couldn’t take as long as the first leg of the dive, but there was so little to see that it was impossible to track. Just as Z-dog was growing concerned enough to push herself to swim faster and catch up to Freddie, they saw light. 

They were much closer than they thought. The mouth of the tunnel opened up into a large, enclosed reef, absolutely teeming with life; but no Na’vi in the water. Freddie tapped Z-dog’s shoulder and signed for her to follow him to the surface.

Popping his head out of the water just enough, Freddie pulled down his mask and took a breath. “See that?” His hand emerged from the water a few feet in front of him and pointed to the beach, aglow with torches, “No rest for the wicked, huh?”

That tunnel spat them out much further into the reef than expected. Rather than being six kilometers from the village, as was the seawall’s radius, it looked like they were only about two klicks or so away. Z-dog removed her own mask and sighed, “Maybe not the best time for jokes, Chase.”

“That wasn't even a joke. If you want jokes I’ll—”

She splashed him, making him choke on the seawater that filled his mouth. “Be quiet.” She surveyed the beach and the waves around them to ensure no one had noticed them, then stuck her head underwater to check there as well. “No one knows we're here, good. We should split and circle the island at this distance. Visibility’s good.” She clicked her breathing mask back into place so she wouldn't have to talk to him more.

He spat out the last of the water and turned to her, “Okay, fine. I'll start east, you take west.” He had barely finished his sentence before Z-dog was disappearing below the waves.

Freddie didn't much care for Pandora, but he had to admit it was nice to spend time in an ocean that wasn't practically lifeless. Even despite their wetsuits, he and his team on Earth had been required to take extremely thorough showers after each dive, just in case some carcinogens had touched their skin. But he liked the animals, above all. Animals had always understood him better than most people, and marine life was even smarter than land animals; or that's what he'd read, at least, since even the largest aquariums didn’t have many exhibits anymore. He figured it must be true if they were hunting tulkun for the immortality potion that their huge brains made.

Just like their approach to the island, most animals seemed to ignore him. It wasn't until about halfway around the coast, just after he passed Z-dog — who signaled she'd had no problems — that anything approached him. An ilu, the very thing their Piranhas were designed to mimic, swam up behind him. He hadn't even noticed it until it made noise, a curious sound coming from deep in its throat. It was less that he heard it and more like he felt it, echoing in his chest like a bass-boosted speaker. He turned toward the source and saw the creature.

He found that it looked much more like a dinosaur than their Piranhas, which were more or less just triangular and much smaller than the real deal. It watched him with its four eyes curiously as Freddie continued along his way. But still, there were no Na’vi to be seen, and no other animals other than this ilu gave him the time of day. If it weren’t for the mission, he might have tried to ride the thing; they were mount animals, after all. But then, he thought, wouldn’t it just speed the mission up if they had a ride? They swam faster than the Piranhas could go, and was plenty big enough for him to grab Z-dog and haul her back with him. He reached out a hand…

For a moment, it seemed like the ilu might allow him to touch it, or even to take its queue and link it with his own. But instead it flinched. When Freddie tried this again, it squealed and turned its whole body away from him as if he smelled bad. Frustrated, he lunged in the water toward it, assuming this would be like with the banshees, but again it rejected him. It squealed once more and swam off, going over his head and speeding off toward the island. Shit, he thought, before realizing it was a stupid thing to think. Even through the bond, it’s not like you could just speak to animals. He had nothing to worry about. He would return to Three Brothers with Z-dog, bomb the shit out of that village, and return to base, victorious, with three people he didn’t even like very much. He had nothing to worry about.

Every able-bodied hunter and warrior on the entire island stood at the ready, gripping their weapons tightly. Not a single person’s stomach wasn’t twisted in knots with dread. Many of them, Jake and Tonowari included, took positions on the north side of the island to await the recombinants’ arrival. Once the scouts had delivered their intel, they knew they only had mere hours before the enemy made itself known. Mere hours to send all those who could not defend themselves to other islands within the reef— children, wounded, the elderly. Ronal as well, even though she was more than capable of fighting despite being fully pregnant, reluctantly went with them away from Awa’atlu. 

Some had suffered too many injuries to be able to leave the island, however. Any fighter who didn’t find themselves at the northern part of the island, where the recoms’ trackers were, stayed behind in the village to protect those who remained. This also included Spider and Tuk, who had refused to leave their family. Sullys stick together. That’s how it had always been, and that is how it would stay.

A horn sounded, radiating through the trees from the opposite side of the island. It was not the horn that had been chosen for when the enemy arrived, but rather the same one that had been blown hours before, when the Metkayina gathered to hear the scout’s bad news. This had been accounted for in the plan, if any news needed to be brought to the divided Na’vi— Jake exited the treeline and stepped onto the moonlit beach for a messenger to bring him the news. A few minutes later, Fìrfyan was hopping off a tsurak and running through the shallow water toward him.

“ They are coming from Three Brothers Rock, ” she gasped, waving her spear toward the south. “They had divers in our waters, Toruk Makto. They were here, and we had no idea.” 

“ Slow down, ” Jake said, “ Did you see them?”

“No, ” she responded, “ an ilu did. She went to the village as fast as she could and tried her best to relay the information. It wasn’t until someone made tsaheylu that we saw the truth.” Fìrfyan’s face twisted in disgust and confusion, “They covered themselves in dark Sky People clothing to make themselves shaped like us, but the ilu knew they were not Na’vi. They smelled of demons. ”

This rattled Jake. Two recombinants in the Metkayina’s waters, within the reef for God’s sake! And no one had noticed them. His thumb traced the intricately carved wooden stock of his rifle anxiously. “Okay, okay,” he muttered to himself. “This doesn’t change anything. Those were just scouts, they’re still coming. Go back to the village. ”

She nodded. The battle at Three Brothers had been a first for her, and more than terrifying. Now she must prepare herself to fight them face to face. Her hands shook as she climbed back onto the tsurak and disappeared beneath the water. 

Noah caught up with Jake as soon as he returned to his position. “What was it?”

“Did you know anyone in SecOps with diving experience?” Jake asked, rather than tell them what happened.

“Uh…” Noah looked at the ground to think for a moment. “Just Spence, but she’s here. And Z, but she’s…”

Jake put a hand on their elbow, “we can’t assume she’s still dead. We need to operate like any one of them has been brought back after what Ja told us.”

“Even Spence? They must know she’s alive if they're here.”

He took a deep breath. He wanted to believe they wouldn’t see the recoms as disposable enough to need two copies of the same person at one time, even if they were bad people. “I don’t know. We can’t assume anything. Was there anyone else?”

Noah scrubbed a hand across their face. “I don’t know, it wasn’t really a useful skill for a human on Pandora. Kevin or Phoebe may have mentioned someone they knew also being a frogman..? I don’t remember. Why are you asking about divers? Do they— oh, god, they were here, weren’t they?”

“Yes. Just two of them, no one noticed until it was too late.” Jake looked down “Could you do it, if it was her?”

“You can’t seriously be asking me that, Jake.”

“I am. I need to know you’ll be able to kill Spence, if it came to it. Either version of her.”

They ducked their head and squeezed their eyes shut. “Fuck… Yeah. I could.”

He nodded, “Okay. Maybe if they brought her back, that Spence will be more willing to come to our side than this one,” he glanced into the woods. They were much too far from her to see her, as she was much closer to the village than they were, but he couldn’t help looking. “I need to speak to Tonowari,” he said, releasing Noah’s elbow.

As soon as he was out of sight, Noah turned and ran into the denser parts of the forest. They had a single goal in mind. No matter the outcome of this battle, Spence could be lost to her forever if she didn’t change her mind. They had to speak with her one last time.

Colonel Anderson was not a restless person. He was not someone who got nervous, showed fear, or let people think he was vulnerable. The only cracks in his perfect mask were his anger issues, a mistake he had made in front of all of Hell’s Gate. Luckily for him, most of the witnesses were dead or on Earth; except for a handful, all of which had gone through recombination to be brought back to life.

It had been barely two hours since Z-dog and Freddie had left, but Anderson’s grasp on stoicism was beginning to slip. He had a bad feeling. If not about the divers being caught, he was worried about what came next. He found himself pacing back and forth — when had he ever been someone who paced? — beside his banshee, Ji-cheol, who watched in confusion. He hadn't even intended to name the beast, or to grow attached to it, but day by day the thing wormed its way deeper under his skin. Not even Barquilla could do that for as much as he used to try.

A voice — one of few voices he actually looked forward to hearing — pulled him from his thoughts. “Colonel?” He stopped and turned to see Connor standing a few meters away.

“Dragunov. Any news?” His speech was short and to the point, as with anyone else, but there was always a tone shift with Connor, a subtle softening. 

“Oh— no, I just came to bring you your rations, since you never ate dinner.”

Anderson smiled. It wasn't visible under his mask, but Connor could tell from the way his eyes wrinkled slightly. He returned the gesture and handed off the MRE in his hands.

“How…” the words felt alien on his tongue, and not just because of the alien body. “How are you feeling?”

Connor’s face betrayed him, eyebrows shooting up immediately. “I’m yeah. I—I mean I’m good . You never ask that.”

The Colonel ripped the MRE open and lowered his mask. His face was intact, no scars or missing flesh. “We died. That seems like grounds to check in.”

“You… haven't asked anyone else.”

“They all either wear their emotions on their sleeves or don't have any at all. Or I just don't care, in Blue One’s case.” He parted his lips then paused, his hand stiffening around the package of freeze-dried food. It had been nearly ten years since he’d eaten in front of another person— well, twenty-six, now. Connor wouldn't get the hint unless he said something aloud, so Anderson shifted his body away from him before taking a bite. Chewing without the food falling out of the gaping hole in his face still felt strange.

It wasn't until Anderson had physically turned away from him that Connor understood. He turned around too, flustered that he hadn't gotten it sooner. Still, the fact that would do this in his presence at all was a testament to how much he favored him; or maybe it just reflected the ways in which recombination had changed his mannerisms. Luckily, he didn't need to think about it for too long.

Everyone straightened up when they heard the whistle pierce the air. Kuboyama was on watch, keeping their eyes on both sky and sea and keeping their earpiece in while everyone took theirs out while they waited. All eyes went to them, who in turn directed their gazes upward: two banshees, inbound.

“Freddie, that better be you,” they could be heard saying as everyone shoved in their earpieces, “or I swear to Allah I'm coming up there.”

A sharp laugh cut across the comms, “Come on, you know I'm not that easy to kill. You're welcome to come up here and try, though.”

They snorted, “You wish.”

Once the pair landed, Freddie wasted no time unzipping his suit and tugging the wet fabric down his torso. 

“Do not get naked in front of me Freddie,” Kuboyama threw his clothes at him. “No one wants to see how tiny your dick is.”

“I mean technically isn't it bigger now—” 

“Enough,” Quaritch interjected. He was getting antsy, restless to get the mission over with. “What do you have to report?”

Z-dog answered first, “Nothing much. Literally. No one in the water, torches in the village but no Na’vi visible… all I saw was one of those skimwings passing above me.”

Freddie had convinced his banshee to extend a teal and red wing for him to stand behind while Z-dog spoke. “An ilu or whatever came up to me, but otherwise, yeah. Nothin’.” His suit sat in a crumpled pile at his feet, and they all heard his belt jingling as he pulled up his fatigues.

“So they know we’re coming,” Barquilla grumbled.

“That doesn't matter at this point,” Anderson replied grimly. “We still have our mission, that hasn't changed.

Blue One’s Colonel clapped sharply, the sound of it echoing off of the vertical rocks surrounding them. “Alright. Wheels up in five.”

“We don't even have wheels,” Freddie said.

Noah ran so fast that they paid hardly any attention to the thorns swiping at their skin, drawing blood, or the branches catching in their long braids. Mansk and Ja would have been easier to reach, but they didn't see the point in speaking with either; Ja would be out cold, anyway.

They watched Spence’s head turn as she heard them crashing through the underbrush toward her. Her eyes were wide, like she knew what was coming. Noah didn't stop moving until they were right in front of her, gripping the frame she was tied to.

“Phoebe,” they said, struggling to catch their breath. “Phoebe, they're here. They're here.”

She didn't even know what to say. “The— Quaritch? Miles is here?”

They squeezed the wood harder, splinters digging into their skin. “Quaritch is dead. There could be a new one, I don't know, but we need to hurry.”

“No, Noah, it’s the same one. He's not dead.”

“How could you possibly know— Fuck, Phoebe, what did you do?”

Spence's ears fell. “Not me. I thought he was dead too.”

They released the wooden posts and stepped back. They knew he would be back, likely countless times until the war was over, but this was a bombshell too difficult to process. The silence between them was long, too long for how little time they had, before Noah responded, “I— who? Who told you?”

“It…” she hesitated. She'd promised him not to tell, but this could be life and death. It would be life and death, for both sides. A defeated sigh preceded the answer, “Spider.”

How could they possibly respond to that? Their jaw fell open and a shaky hand found its way to their face. How could he possibly… but they already knew the answer. Spider was a good kid, too good, of course he wouldn't let someone die if he had a way of stopping it. Noah stood motionless while this sunk in, the silence between the two stretching for far too long, a pause more pregnant than the Metkayina’s tsahìk.

Noah did not have a chance to think of a response.

They both felt the bombs before they heard them. The impact shook the ground, reverberating through the posts Spence was tied to and into her body, echoing through her bone marrow, the roots of her teeth. It made her swing from where she was tied, sending jolts of pain through her queue and arms, while Noah was thrown to the ground.

“What the fuck…” Noah cursed, spitting the dirt from their mouth, before they looked up. Smoke. The silhouette of an ikran cut through the pillar of acrid fumes before they saw it drop something. Another blast, this one feeling slightly closer, rippled through the ground.

Spence couldn't see the smoke from the way she'd been tied up. With no line of sight on the smoke that Noah could see, she could only rely on her other senses. Some of the smoke was already being blown in this direction, overpowering her nose entirely. And another sound, aside from the explosions, that she hadn't picked up on immediately. It almost sounded like… screams . An ice cold bead of sweat trailed down her spine, mirroring the feeling of dread rolling across her body.

“Noah,” her voice was hoarse and quiet like she’d forgotten how to speak. “You have to help them.”

The avatar in front of her froze, staring wide-eyed at the flames beginning to make themselves visible at the edge of the treeline, reflected in Noah’s eyes for her to see. Normally, Spence knew, Noah would run right into the fray, trying to help as many as they could. Like Kevin. Maybe that’s why they hadn’t moved, flashbacks of their brother’s death running over and over through their mind.

Spence kicked her foot out to catch them in the hip, snapping them out of it. “Noah!”

It seemed as if Noah was moving in slow motion, one shaky hand gripping the sheath before the other raised to meet it, pulling the blade from its covering. They paused for a moment, the tip of the blade pointed directly at Spence’s abdomen. Their eyes met, and beyond the reflection of the flames, there was untold emotion in Noah’s eyes that Spence could not decipher.

Maybe this was it. For as much as she'd begged for it, staring at one of the most important people in her life — former life — pointing their weapon at her made her realize that maybe she didn't want to die. A sickening electricity zapped through her body, the primal urge to live . It made her dig her nails into the knot behind her head, the only thing she could do to attempt any sort of escape. “N-Noah..? What are you—”

“Help us,” they whispered, barely audible. The words were nearly drowned out at the end by another bomb dropping.

It wasn’t a question, or an order, or them simply asking. They were begging . Before Spence even opened her mouth to respond, she was watching Noah grit their teeth and raise the knife. The next few moments felt like an out of body experience. She cried out, expecting to feel a sharp pain as her life cut to black, but was instead met with the harsh impact of her feet hitting the ground and warm arms steadying her. 

She opened her eyes to see Noah’s face right in front of hers. The last time she saw their avatar with a tear-stained face, they had both listened to Kevin’s screams turn into gurgles as he was eaten alive. Now, they both were forced to listen to the screams of whoever was left in the village as it burned.

Noah could only send a silent thanks to Eywa, knowing that there were no children in the village— no, there were. Spider, Tuk, Kiri, and Lo’ak had all stayed in the village where it was supposedly safest, with only the eldest of them armed with weapons. Their hand shook as they reached into a pouch at their belt and removed something, shoving it into Spence’s pocket. “I–I know what you said, I know you won’t stay, but—” their voice caught in their throat, nearly breaking into a sob, “this communicator is on a channel that only I use. If you change your mind, use it, and I can meet with you.”

Spence nodded, even though she wasn’t sure she would live long enough to ever use it, let alone to do the right thing. She didn’t even mean to think of it as the right thing , but that’s what it was, wasn’t it? But there was no time to even begin to weigh her options before Noah was dragging her unsteadily toward the edge of the forest, toward the burning village.

“Wait, wait,” she pulled her hand out of Noah’s, stumbling without them to hold her up. “I can’t— I… I need to find Ja, and–and Mansk. Please ,” under better circumstances, she may have tried to mask the panic in her voice. Under better circumstances, she wouldn’t be running into an inferno. Nothing about the past week had been normal, and this was life or death; and Spence was finally choosing life.

A shadow briefly crossed Noah’s face, before it was replaced by a more familiar emotion. Pity. They crushed her into a hug, possibly the last one the two would ever share, before releasing her far too soon than either of them wanted. “They put Ja right back where he was after you saw him,” they pointed to the east, “but he’ll still be out cold from the hawprwll they gave him.” Then they pointed in the opposite direction, “Mansk is that way.”

“I’m sorry,” Spence mumbled, pulling Noah back in. She would cry if she wasn’t as dehydrated as she was. It wasn’t just an apology for not defecting, or for not helping with the burning village, it was an apology for every single thing that had occurred over sixteen years. Noah knew that immediately, and let a few tears drop onto her shoulder.

They broke apart without another word, Noah running south toward the destruction, and Spence breaking into an unsteady sprint to the west. With her injuries, she had no chance of moving Ja to safety on her own. She could only hope that Mansk was in any state to help.

Chapter Text

The only thing that kept Spence upright on her unsteady legs as she tore through the forest was the adrenaline pumping through her veins. The sting of the raw skin on her wrists, the pounding headache, the wound in her abdomen threatening to tear open if she pushed any harder — she felt none of it, driven forward over unfamiliar terrain by sheer terror and urgency. Keeping the glow of the fire through the forest to her left, she ran as hard as her body could possibly handle as vines and the roots of trees seemed to reach out to trip her, catching on her ankles and cutting her bare feet at every opportunity. Spence didn’t stop to consider that maybe it could be Eywa herself trying to stop her, not that she believed in the goddess; there simply was no time for such a thought to cross her mind.

On and on she ran. The island was larger than she thought, and eventually she outran the length of the destruction being wrought on the village entirely, leaving it in the dust. If not for the glowing plants, she wouldn’t be able to see anything at all. She would have missed Mansk in the darkness entirely, far off to her right as he was, if not for him calling her name.

“Spence?” His voice was hoarse from dehydration and misuse, and he was sure his eyes were deceiving him, but he called out to the figure ahead of him anyway.

She skidded to a sharp halt, nearly losing her balance in the sandier earth on this part of the island. She thought she imagined it. But no, there he was, hanging from a wooden frame much the same as she had been. “Oh, god, Devin.” Her eyes fell upon his throat. It was coated in blood, in various states of dried and flowing and coming from multiple wounds. At least half of it trailed down his mouth and chin, staining his teeth, from a nose that was so broken it nearly made a ‘Z’ shape.

“Jesus,” he strained his eyes to the left to look at the glow coming through the trees in the distance. “What the hell is going on? How are you out?”

“That doesn’t matter, the RDA is here,” she replied quickly.

As soon as he looked back to her, he could see the fear in her eyes. In all their months in this life, in all the battles they’d been put through, he’d never seen her like this. It scared him. “Get me down, we can fight our way out.”

She nodded, reaching instinctively over her shoulder for her knife before she remembered… they took it. Obviously, they took it. Anything they had that could possibly have been used as a weapon was gone. She circled Mansk, frantically patting his pockets, only to find nothing. “Fuck,” she muttered. She walked behind him, eyeing the viney ropes that bound him. “Sorry about this.”

“Sorry for wha— AARRGHHH!” He screamed in pain as the worst agony he’d ever experienced raced through his body. He wanted to beg her to stop, to just leave him hanging there until she could find something to cut it with, but the nausea crashed into him so hard he lost his voice. It was all he could do to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from throwing up. The taste of blood filled his mouth once again, but he couldn’t unclench his jaw.

Spence couldn’t keep her hands from shaking as she tried to force apart the knot that had been tied just under his queue. It should have been obvious that the reef peoples would excel at tying knots, but she never imagined she would find herself in this situation. She could hardly even see the knot, what with the darkness and his braid getting in the way, and she could only mutter apologies as she desperately tried to get her fingers between the loops that kept it so tight. Each time his head jerked unwillingly, a noise of pain escaped his lips; each minute that passed saw his voice growing weaker and weaker. Eventually, after far too long, there was enough room in between the loops that formed the knot to push a finger through. This allowed her to finally begin threading one end through and unwrap his wrists until it quickly began to unravel on its own.

They both realized it too late. As the knot grew looser and looser, relief washed over Mansk as the pain subsided. He thought he was imagining the feeling of sinking lower to the ground as his body relaxed and his teeth unclenched, but gravity soon took over as he plummeted to the ground. Spence couldn’t catch him in time, grabbing him by the hips before inertia took her down with him. He instinctively threw out a hand to catch himself. It bent the wrong way as they crashed to the ground in a heap, and he knew instantly he had likely broken it.

Spence rolled off of him and looked to where he had fallen. He landed awkwardly, and it was entirely her fault— his feet were still bound to the post, two feet off the ground. “Oh, fuck, I’m so sorry. Why did they tie your legs?” She asked as she moved to loosen these ropes as well, with much less grace now that she had no risk of hurting his queue.”

He groaned, turning his head to get his face out of the dirt. “Kicked Sully while he took out my tracker. He damn near slit my throat.”

In other circumstances, that may have made her laugh a bit. She unbound his ankles much faster than his wrists and eased his legs to the ground to prevent any more unnecessary pain. “Can you walk?”

“Probably,” he pushed himself up onto his knees with his good arm. “We have a plan?”

“Find Ja. See if we survive long enough to make it to our people.” She raked a hand through her mess of knotted hair, mulling over their scarce options. Dying would be the easy part, it’s the surviving that was hard. All injured, all mountless, and all starved near to death. If the other recoms failed or retreated, no matter how many of them there were, they would be screwed.

“We have a problem.”

Eight banshees circled above the island, four much higher than the others, while they awaited confirmation from the wet team. What they got instead was Z-dog speaking hurriedly in hushed tones.

Anderson rolled his eyes. Of course, he thought to himself, of course where Quaritch is involved, something goes wrong. He responded first, burying the animosity he felt, “What is it, Zdinarsik?”

Freddie responded first, “Either the locations are wrong, or they tricked us. Entire north beach is swarmed with blues. No hostages anywhere.”

“Shit,” he mumbled to himself as he banked away from the pillar of smoke rising from the village. Despite how his mask dulled his heightened Na’vi senses, the acrid smell of napalm still assaulted his nose. “Alright,” he said into the comms, “Plan B. Divers, what is your position?”

“West of them, down the beach. We already took out three who were out here on the fringes, but they’re mostly grouped up by the trees.” Z-dog paused before adding, “Sully’s with them.”

Quaritch, who had been flying low and surveying the village, heard this. His reaction was delayed, however. He knew just as well as anyone that this was no time to get lost in thought, but the scene below recalled too many memories; those of a young and dumb Miles Quaritch on his first tour in Nigeria. A standard raid on a guerilla base had turned more sour than rotten milk, and before his squad knew it, everything was on fire. Much like tonight, those insurgents had known they were coming. Just like tonight, he heard the screams and felt the heat of the flames as civilians got caught in the crossfire.

He pushed it down as best he could. Those were humans, that’s why it had felt wrong. Na’vi deserved no such consideration. His ears perked up and he pressed his fingers to his throat comm, “A well-placed bomb or two could knock them out like bowling pins. Air team, got any left?” He swiveled in his saddle to check his own supply— clean out. He clicked his tongue in disappointment. 

“None here,” Prager answered.

“Me neither,” Lyle added.

It took a few seconds until Connor responded, “I have one left.”

“Ground team team will land south of you,” Anderson stated. “Dragunov, you need to drop that right on top of them. Your team will provide cover from the air.”

None of them saw the banshee emerging from the forest to the east; they were all focused either on the village below them or the northern edge of the island in the darkness ahead of them. If they had seen it, they would have easily mistaken it for Ja’s mount, Oshun, in the low visibility. Until its rider drew a bow, training it on the nearest recom. Until they released an arrow.

“Aye, sir. Be careful down the—” Connor’s message was cut off with an arrow to the throat, piercing his hand and pinning it in place so that his comms continued transmitting to every one of them. They heard the gurgle of blood, his death rattles. Every recombinant in the air looked to him just in time to see his body slip from his banshee’s back and plummet into the trees below.

A war cry, shrill and alien, cut through the air. Quaritch and Lyle recognized it in an instant, almost instinctively. Her voice had mapped itself onto their fear responses. It’s her. Sully’s wife. Neytiri.

Quaritch’s blood ran cold, but Cupcake knew what to do; he’s done this before. He tucked his wings, plummeting into the smoke toward the ground below. He couldn’t get away from her over the open ocean, but here he could tuck and weave between the burning trees and homes of the village as it crumbled to ash around them. The flames finally knocked some sense into the Colonel. They flew so low that the few living Na’vi who remained in the village had to throw themselves to the ground to avoid the pair. Only for a moment did Quaritch get to think he had escaped her, until an arrow whizzed past his ear, sending blood trickling down his jaw.

He could barely hear anything over the rushing of blood in his ears, except for the sound of gunfire following them like hounds after a fox. It was only a matter of time until that demon woman either shot him or his comrades shot her. Only one of them would be leaving this place unscathed.

They were running out of village, out of island. Either he took this out onto the open ocean, where there was little light, or he flew into the trees, where he had little room to maneuver and even less knowledge of the land. It would have to be the latter; the sea ran the risk of the Metkayina coming to join the party. 

His hand finally found its way to the pistol strapped to his thigh, unholstering it through muscle memory alone. Twisting in the saddle, he let Cupcake weave his way through the forest as it became denser and denser while he trained his sights on the woman giving chase. He would not be the prey tonight. Time seemed to slow as their flight paths fell into perfect rhythm, each other’s targets falling into their respective sights exactly. It was only a matter of who shot first, until Quaritch’s earpiece buzzed and popped to life, distracting him and throwing off his aim. The bullet hit a tree, spraying splinters into Neytiri’s face, which in turn made her miss her own shot.

“Pull up, on me.” Anderson. Quaritch grumbled as he righted himself in his seat after Cupcake nearly collided with a cluster of low-hanging vines that were not glowing. “Quaritch’s goose chase changes nothing, we continue with Plan B,” he continued.

If there was time for it, he would have given Anderson some choice acidic words just then. Leaving him high and dry like this. He always was the most lily-livered colonel he’d ever met.

Only now did he realize the gunfire pursuing him had petered out. Just as he was about to demand a status report, taking a sharp left to avoid a clearing and keep himself concealed, Lyle’s voice came through the comms, “Colonel, it's too tight in here.” He could almost hear his lieutenant’s banshee huffing and puffing through the line, though perhaps that was his own. “Damn near crashed, Sully’s woman is too fast.”

Quaritch didn't even bother responding. He grunted with the effort of directing his mount through the dense jungle while also keeping his own body out of the way of grasping vines and branches— he hadn't the brain space to try shooting at her again.

He had no idea what direction he was going in now but he saw something, just up ahead. An opportunity. A needle eye so thin that one wrong move in threading it may just take his head off at the break-neck speed they were flying. He threw his legs out behind him, flattened his body against Cupcake, and willed him to tuck his wings against his body and let their momentum do the rest.

She didn't see it coming, Quaritch barely saw it himself. The curtain of vines ahead of them had the smallest of gaps that a banshee could never hope to pass through without the momentum to make it— momentum that Quaritch and Cupcake could keep because they were prepared. The woman behind him — the woman who threatened to kill his own son, had killed himself — had no such thing. Her banshee spread its wings to slow itself midair at the last second but it was too late, the pair of them slammed into the vines so hard that it scrabbled to hold onto them so as not to fall to the forest floor below them as they swayed with the impact.

He felt the muscles in his shoulders relax ever-so-slightly, his ikran’s too. When he finally let himself look back to see if she had taken up the chase again, he only saw her pushing off the vines and ascending to the canopy with an angry noise between a howl and hiss. The compass embedded in his watch told him he was going north.

Spence looked up from her compass for what must be the tenth time in the past few minutes. They hadn't strayed from their course, even once, but the jungle on this island had a way of making you feel lost. Or maybe it was just the dehydration. It was hard to tell head from tail sometimes.

“How are we supposed to find him?” Mansk had kept one hand on her shoulder through their journey to keep himself upright, and she felt his hand tense. “It's dark, shit’s crazy, and he's probably unconscious.”

She took a slow breath. She didn't know. There was really only one plan floating through her exhausted mind, “Assuming Noah was telling the truth, they put him back in the same spot, so maybe we can track him from where I was tied up… He got out earlier today, somehow. Ran straight through the woods and happened to run right up to where I was.”

“How the hell did he— get down!” Before he finished his sentence, he threw his body weight over Spence and tackled her to the ground. He was just in time to dodge the two ikrans that zipped by a mere meter above them.

The jet of wind from their passing blew Spence’s hair into her eyes, but she could have sworn that she caught a glimpse of an RDA saddle through it. Before she had the chance to open her mouth to call out to them, they had long since disappeared further into the forest. Likely for the best, anyway; she’d never seen any recom fly like that unless they were being chased.

“Come on,” she helped Mansk to his feet and got them moving again. “Who do you think that was?”

“I don’t know, could be anyone. You said Ja got out?”

She could hear the confusion in his voice. “Yeah, I don’t know. Jake and the Na’vi seemed just as surprised as me. Then they… shoved something down his throat, and he just passed out before they dragged him off.”

Mansk grimaced, “They did that to me, too. It put me to sleep, but only for a little while. Then it’s like I was just trapped in my body having nightmares until I finally had the strength to open my eyes.”

“God, that’s awful. Did they— oh fuck,” Spence cursed to herself as she tripped on something in the softly glowing underbrush. She would have fallen if not for Mansk’s hand on her. It took a second for her to realize the object was soft and warm, and looking down she saw a humanoid shape. She pushed aside some ferns and saw the arrow, since snapped, protruding from the hand it pinned it to their neck.

“Jesus,” Mansk muttered. “Is that an avatar? I thought they were their allies.”

“No, it’s… they have cammies on, it’s a recom.” She didn’t recognize the face that stared into nothing with glassy, wide eyes. “But who is this? We met everyone they had.”

He lowered himself to kneel beside the body. “Not all of ‘em. Colonel mentioned Anderson squad was on ice back before they pulled out Ripper squad.” He reached into their shirt and pulled out the chain with their tags. “Fuck. That’s Connor.”

“Dragunov? He was basically a kid. Fuck.”

Mansk nodded solemnly. They’d been friends once, but only briefly. Connor had only been on Pandora for just over a year before all hell broke loose. He never had been cut out to be a soldier— hell, he’d said himself he was hired to be an engineer, but circumstances found him trained up and filling a vacancy in Anderson’s team. It was a miracle he hadn’t died sooner than that final battle, and even more of a miracle that he was part of Project Phoenix at all. Mansk supposed it was only a matter of time before something like this happened to him.

He sighed and removed the rifle from Connor’s shoulder, handing it to Spence, then took his knife and pistol for himself. “Come on… we need to keep moving.”

They picked up the pace once they heard more gunfire erupting, this time to the north of them. A little while longer saw them reaching the clearing where Spence had been tied up, and it was a simple task from there to find the trail that would lead them to Ja; even the most inexperienced and clueless of trackers could follow the path of broken branches and disturbed soil Ja left behind when he stumbled through the forest.

He had been much closer to Spence than Mansk. It was no wonder she and Spider were the first people he found, it couldn’t have taken him more than twenty minutes of stumbling through the brush to come across them.

He lay there, crumpled and hog-tied, looking as dead as Connor. It was almost worse that nobody had bothered to secure him to the nearby post, or even to position his head so his nose wasn’t buried in the dirt. Spence did so, dropping to her knees next to him and placing a careful hand on each cheekbone to gently maneuver his head without causing him any more harm.

“Alex?” She pushed two fingers to his throat to check for a pulse. It was slow, almost too slow, but steady. “Stay with me, babe.”

Mansk knelt on the other side of him and cut the ropes, giving extra care not to nick his queue. From there, the two of them were able to flip him onto his back and better assess the damage. His skin, which was a much deeper shade of blue than either of theirs, was the palest they had ever seen it. Everything else looked just as bad as Mansk did, if not worse. It seemed only Spence had managed to avoid being beaten; Mansk pretended not to know why that would be.

His hand hovered over Ja’s left leg. “Should we… should we look at it? Or try to treat it?” The damage was covered by his pants, but the shape of his leg and the dark stains in the camouflage fabric made it all too clear that it was far worse than either of them could help.

“His med pack is gone, there's nothing we could even do,” Spence muttered as she stared at the broken man in front of her. “We need to find the recoms, or— or a boat, maybe. We just need to get him to safety, somehow.”

Mansk raised himself up to a squat and peered around the forest, keeping his Z-33 pistol at the ready. “Even if I knew where Tomahawk was, I doubt I could fly him. We’re sittin’ ducks ‘til somebody finds us… Or we find them.” There was a thinly veiled double meaning in those words and in the way he gripped his gun. 

Spence wove her fingers absent-mindedly into Ja’s, seeking the warmth of his skin where there was little, and considered their options. They could stay put, where it was more likely for Na’vi to find them before the recoms. They would be visible to their comrades if they went to the beach, but the enemy could easily see and pick them off in the open as well. She didn’t even consider the burning village— if Noah survived that, they would have gotten away from the smoke as soon as possible. Then there was the north… they would be sure to find allies there, but there was also still gunfire echoing through the forest from that direction.

She sighed in defeat, “Our options don’t look good. Either we stay hidden where they won’t find us, we go out in the open where anyone could find us, or we run right into the line of fire.”

“Maybe your boat idea isn’t so bad.”

“If we can even find one…” She picked at the strap of Connor’s rifle, mulling something over, before releasing Ja’s hand and standing suddenly. “Someone needs to stay here with him until we know where to move him. I’ll go east, there should be a beach there. If there’s no recoms or boats, I’ll see if there’s anything salvageable nearer to the village.”

Mansk stood as well, wincing from the thumping pain in his head as he moved too quickly, “No, Spence, that’s too dangerous. I’ll go.”

“You’re injured and concussed.”

She said it so bluntly and without an argumentative tone that it threw him off. He couldn’t think of any rebuttal, just staring at her stupidly. The expression made him look so much younger than he really was; as young as their bodies truly were.

“Just… please. Stay with him. Here,” she pulled the rifle off of her shoulder and held it out to him, “let’s trade guns.”

This knocked him out of her stupor, “Absolutely not, Phoebe,” he took the gun from her hand and hung the strap over her shoulder once more. “The only way I agree to this is if you’re armed.”

Her lips curled into a frown as his hand lingered on her shoulder, and she pulled him into a hug. More pain flared up again as her body pressed into his broken ribs, but he bit it back, returning the gesture and burying his face in her hair. The embrace was short-lived, a quick, silent goodbye before they pulled apart. Neither of them could bring themselves to say the quiet part outloud.

“I’ll…” Spence realized that she couldn’t promise that she would come back. She couldn’t even promise that she’d find anything, or anyone, let alone that no arrows would find her neck like they did to that poor Private, who must have only been brought into this new life a mere handful of days ago. “I’ll be off, then” was the only true thing she could think to say.

Another explosion, on the other side of the island, punctuated her words as she turned to walk away.

Most of the smoke had not reached the other side of the island yet, allowing the four recoms that landed in a clearing there to finally have a breath of fresh air. They could all hear as the shooting slowly became less and less on the other side of the forest, and only assumed the worst until they heard chatter from Wainfleet. So, Quaritch was alone in there with the savage that killed Connor. If he didn’t manage to kill her — which Anderson was sure he would fail to do — Anderson figured he would just do it himself.

He checked his rifle twice, three times, before disconnecting from Ji-cheol and sliding down his back. His tail flicked behind him as he walked up to the tree line, peering into the glowing forest.

“Care to loop us in on the plan, Taeyang?” a gruff voice — Barquilla’s — questioned behind him.

He turned back and narrowed his eyes at his sergeant. He ignored him, listening instead to the screech of a singular banshee in the distance. “Quaritch,” he spoke into the comms as his ears flattened against his head, “come in.” When he didn’t respond right away, he added, “Or did she kill you, too?”

“Don’t get too excited,” Quaritch muttered into his earpiece after a few more seconds. “Stayin’ low to avoid her, she got away. I’ll come up to you. Lyle, Prager, you do the same. Stand more of a chance if we all come down on ‘em at once.”

Kuboyama butted their way in, “What about Connor’s bomb? There will be too many of them without it.”

Anderson’s tail stiffened and his ears pressed even further against his skull at the mention of the deceased private. He would get revenge for that, he needed to. “His banshee’s too erratic, it needs to calm down before we can even think about the bomb. Leave it for now, we can take them.”

“Speakin’ of…” Barquilla said, not into comms, and pointed at the sky.

A banshee. Headed straight in their direction. 

Chloe raised her rifle and peered through the scope at it, only to quickly drop it and move for her banshee. “Na’vi,” she said flatly. “Presumably the same one.”

Anderson didn’t need to bark orders; the course of action was obvious. The other three ran for their mounts and took off behind her, raising their weapons and steeling themselves for the coming dogfight. They had had very little time to train for this, and it showed, the woman easily dodged their fire as they let loose a rain of bullets. But what little training they did have was not for nothing. It very quickly became clear that they could overwhelm her by flying in four separate directions, forcing her to never aim at any one soldier. They dodged arrows as easily as she dodged bullets until only one remained in her quiver. Neytiri had not had the opportunity to double back for the ones she had fired at Quaritch, nor the one with which she executed one of the demons just before chasing him. She had only a single shot, and she would make it count.

The fight had taken her higher into the air, but now she dove. Lower, lower, as low as she possibly dared, until she had gathered the momentum to rise above the demons that had been foolish enough to follow her. Most of them had realized her plan early enough and pulled up in time to keep above her, but one did not, until it was too late. The one with hair the color of the morning sun looked up at her and their eyes met in the moment it took to nock an arrow and draw it back. Her eyes widened in recognition, but she showed no fear. Her face was vacant. It made Neytiri’s stomach twist.

Her arrow flew and embedded itself in the meat between Chloe’s neck and shoulder. Non-lethal. She did not have time to chase the demon to the ground and kill her, she banked hard to the right and risked a defiant look at the one that seemed to be their leader; the one that covered its face, who painted its neck with a face that portrayed its demonic nature for its own people to see.

The look the Na’vi woman gave Anderson was almost… daring. Like she knew what Connor meant to him, knew that it would most directly affect him to shoot two of his own, that it would bait him into fighting her directly. And it worked. She banked to the north, and he dove to follow her, giving chase. He heard voices in his earpiece, something about Barquilla trying to stop the bleeding, but he didn’t care; this was personal. He had a vague sense of another banshee flying behind him, likely Kuboyama, but he ignored them. All he saw was red as he continuously shot and missed. When his rifle clicked empty, he tossed the empty magazine into the forest below and slotted a new one into place.

As he was reloading, movement caught in the corner of his eye. At first it seemed as if the new banshee belonged to another Na’vi, or one of the living recoms, but… no, he knew that banshee. It was Connor’s. It screeched, heading for the very same target that Anderson had been chasing. Before he had the chance to shoot again, the two banshees ahead of him locked talons, causing the sole rider to hiss and struggle to detach her own mount while the two fought, talons cutting deep wounds into each other as their jaws snapped. Anderson slowed his approach to aim for a steady shot on the woman.

Connor’s banshee wanted revenge for his rider, he realized.

“The bomb!” Kuboyama shouted from behind, passing him in the air. “This is our chance!” They hung from the side of their saddle above the screeching animals, who were just barely keeping themselves in flight, and reached for the bomb.

Anderson trained his sights on the Na’vi.

It all happened so fast. Just as he squeezed the trigger, his target drew her knife and slashed out at Kuboyama, jostling the entire mess of beast and person. The bullet did not hit the Na’vi. A matter of inches made all the difference.

The resulting explosion nearly knocked Anderson out of the sky. The riderless banshee was killed mercifully and instantly, but the same could not be said for the rest. He did not have time to see what damage was done to his enemy or her mount as she tried and failed to fly away, plummeting to the ground below. Kuboyama fell instantly, a terrible scream ripping from their throat.

Anderson’s mind worked faster than his body, and thus so did Ji-cheol. He tucked his wings and dove for them, thrusting out his talons to catch them just as he reopened his wings to slow his descent. The force of catching them ripped their queue from their banshee’s, and its corpse continued to fall. 

He lay them down as gingerly as possible on the ground, landed a few feet away, then ran to their side. The banshees had caught most of the shrapnel, sparing the majority of their body; all except one part. Blood flowed from their head, soaking Anderson’s gloves as he searched their scalp for the wound. It wasn’t until their hand found his that he realized where it was spilling from.

“Taeyang—” They gasped in pain, their fingers squeezing his as tightly as they could muster, “Tae, I–I can’t see. I can’t see.”

The gunfire stopped after Spence heard the explosion. The ground didn’t shake with this one, and she could only guess what that meant. Maybe they dropped it over the water, or maybe it had simply backfired and killed the recom carrying it. Whatever it was, there was no time to stop and think. The nearest beach was, thankfully, empty when she reached it. But that also meant there were no boats. 

Receding back into the cover of the trees, she started toward what remained of the village. It was easy enough to find with the malevolent orange glow that permeated the forest.

Not feeling the familiar pressure of an earpiece in this situation was beginning to irritate her. Even the electronic hum of standard radio silence would be more comforting than this. She was completely alone without it, with only the sounds of waves and flames to accompany her; it struck her that there were no sounds in the forest. Everything that could fly, crawl, or squat in the mud held its breath.

A twig snapped, meters away. She had grown too careless in her solitude, walking without care of leaving a trace or making noise, and something had snuck up on her. Someone. Her hands found the rifle that hung from her shoulder and pointed it, finger poised over the trigger to defend herself.

A young Na’vi pointed a bow at her. Forest, not reef. She realized she knew this girl, the one that wore Dr. Augustine’s face. Spence lowered her weapon and slowly raised her hands.

“I don’t want to fight you,” Spence said. It only seemed to upset the girl.

She suddenly felt the cold metal of a gun against her back. “Don’t move,” its owner said in English. She recognized the voice, but she couldn’t place it. They slipped the rifle strap from her arm before kicking her to her knees.

Every cell in Spence’s body screamed at her to fight back, to make it back to Ja and Mansk, but she couldn’t. She wouldn’t let herself. These were just kids, like that boy Neteyam. She held still as the barrel moved from her back to the base of her skull—

“Kiri, Lo’ak!” A hushed voice called as loudly as it dared, somewhere off to Spence’s side. Now that was a voice she knew. Noah. They emerged from behind a large tree, Spider and an even younger Na’vi child in tow, and stopped dead in their tracks. “What are you— stop. Put your weapons down.”

“Why?” Spence could not see Lo’ak, but she could tell by his voice that he was filled with rage, “She’s one of them.”

Noah looked to the girl, Kiri, but she stayed silent. The look on her face was complicated, anger and grief and something else. They approached her tentatively, like an animal they were in danger of spooking, before gently pushing the bow down. Kiri let them, huffing in exasperation as she slung it over her back.

“Lo’ak,” Spider said, now slightly closer to him, “she didn’t kill him, bro. Trust me.” Why is he trying to help me?

The boy behind her gritted his teeth, making a sound between a hiss and a sob, before pulling his gun away. Spence released a breath she didn’t know she had been holding. Noah came over and squeezed his shoulder before extending a hand to Spence. She took it and dragged herself to her feet.

Noah squeezed her hand, “Why are you still here, Phoebe?”

“I was hoping I could find a boat in the village. Even if Ja was awake, we can’t move him on our own.”

Lo’ak snorted, but they ignored him. “You won’t find any. The Metkayina took most when they left the island. And the rest…” they gazed at the orange glow that threw long, dark shadows through the forest. “There’s nothing left.”

“I’m sorry,” Spence muttered. All the children, even the youngest, glared at her in response. Only Spider held any trepidation in his eyes.

Noah took the confiscated rifle from Lo’ak and put it over their own shoulder, “Your apology is not for me to accept… nor them. You should go.”

“Wait— do you know where the recoms are?”

“They all went nor—” their words cut off as two ikrans — low enough that they could just barely hear their riders’ voices — passed overhead, ducking and placing a protective hand over the youngest’s back. Their eyes scanned the skies for a few more moments before they continued, “North. We need to go.” They look at Phoebe for a moment, unsure, before taking her hand and squeezing it. It was much quicker than either preferred, but it was all they had time for. “Goodbye, Phoebe.”

Spence couldn’t bring herself to say it, only nodding. She and Spider shared a look as they left. It seemed like he was considering saying something to her before he shook his head and followed.

She found herself standing still for a moment, out of options. The thrumming noise in her ears sounded like her own heartbeat echoing in her  skull, but more… present. The ikrans flew past, didn’t they? I’m alone out here. Another thought briefly flashed in her mind, a memory of some movie she’d seen as a kid where they beat drums at war to simultaneously motivate troops and intimate the enemy; this was only managing the latter.

The memory felt desaturated, incomplete. She couldn’t stop thinking about it as she willed herself to start moving again, doubling back to the small clearing she’d left Ja and Mansk in. It was such an insignificant memory. It should not have overtaken her mind as it did, not in this situation, but it burrowed into her frontal lobe like a tick. She could remember that it was the first movie she’d watched with her stepfather, Lionel, and that it was one of the first times she had allowed herself to enjoy his company when she was a teenager, but beyond that… Her brows furrowed as she struggled to remember. It wasn’t just the movie that she didn’t remember, but whole sections of that part of her life. The first time her dad brought Lionel home to meet her, her high school graduation, enlisting, her dad’s diagnosis; it was all gone. She knew they happened, but she could not recall the events; she couldn’t even remember why she joined the military in the first place. All of this blood staining her hands, and she couldn’t even find a reason for it.

The rhythmic pounding had been growing louder as she walked. She ignored it, assuming it was just her own pounding heartbeat, until a strong gust of wind from behind pulled her out of her thoughts. It blinded her as her hair was blown into her face. She swept her hair out of her eyes and turned just in time to make eye contact with the ikran landing behind her. She averted her eyes before she could identify the rider to avoid the creature's ire.

“Holy shit, it is you,” she heard a voice say, followed by the crunching of soil as they dismounted.

Spence risked looking up, being extra careful to avoid the ikran’s eye, to see Lyle. She felt her jaw go slack and she had to blink a few times to make sure it was really him. Despite being the one who got away, he looked as terrible as if he had been captured right alongside them; dark circles under his eyes, a dark, ugly greenish bruise covering much of the side of his head and face, and he looked as if he hadn’t been eating. But his clothes were mostly clean, aside from some ash and soot, so she knew he hadn’t been in the wilderness.

When she didn’t respond, Lyle closed the distance between and cupped her jaw in his hand. “Talk to me, Phoebs. I need you with me.”

His touch shocked sense into her, “You came back.” She didn’t realize how quiet and raspy her voice had become until she heard him speak; he always had been too loud.

“‘Course,” he gave her a toothy grin, but it was strained. He could hear how dry her throat was, see how badly chapped her lips were, and held the straw to his hydration pack out to her from where it sprouted from his shoulder. She responded by pulling him in by the vest straps and taking the straw, drinking greedily. From afar it looked a bit like a vampire latching onto someone’s throat, draining their lifeblood— she may as well be doing that with the way she drained his pack.

While she drank, he cast his eyes upward and pressed on the comms at his throat with his free hand. “I found Spence, she’s okay. Mostly.” She faintly heard someone respond in the earpiece just above her head, but it was too quiet for her to understand. “You should land, P,” Lyle said in response to them before turning his attention back to her. “Do you know where Mansk and Ja are, if they’re okay?”

Dragging herself away from that straw was like removing the IV during a life-saving blood transfusion, it went against her every instinct, but she forced herself to. “They’re alive. I left them…” she stepped out of Lyle’s arms, which had found themselves wrapped around her while she hydrated herself, to reorient herself in forest, “…that way,” she pointed in the direction he currently faced. “We can’t get out of here ourselves, so I was looking for a boat, or something— anything. Mansk can walk, but his wrist’s broken and he won’t be able to fly Tomahawk, not that we know where he is. And Ja…” she dragged a hand down her face, “he can’t walk.”

“Shit,” Lyle grumbled. “Once Prager lands, we can—”

Spence didn’t hear the rest of whatever he had to say. Her blood ran cold, the hairs on the tip of her tail stood on end. Surely she heard him wrong. She’d held his body in her arms, had watched the spear slide through his torso like a hot knife through butter. He was dead.

Dead.

Dead. 

The new impermanence of their deaths did not occur to her as the word echoed in her mind, nearly drowning out the sound of a second ikran landing off to her right. Lyle noticed something was wrong when she didn’t respond. He put a hand on each of her shoulders and leaned down to meet her eyes, “Spence? You gotta focus, girl, show us where our boys are.”

Focus? She couldn’t focus. Her eyes flicked to the movement of whoever had just landed dismounting from the creature that she recognized instantly: a red chin crest contrasting against the brown and green that rippled across the rest of his body, with green eyes that matched his former rider’s. Atlas should not be here. His rider is dead, just as dead as Spence’s own ikran, and no one else could have bonded with him. But despite it all, a recom had flown him here, landed, and was now disconnecting their queues as he slid from his back.

No. No, no, no. Spence forced herself to look at him, but it felt more like she was hallucinating. Like her brain was superimposing Prager and Atlas onto whoever these two really were, that had to be it. They could not be here. She stepped back as he stepped forward. “L–Lyle,” she managed to choke out, barely above a whisper, “Who is that?”

Now he knew what was going on. Lyle took a breath, “It’s okay, Spence. It’s just Prager.”

“No…” she took another step back, then another, backing up until she collided with a tree. It wasn’t him. He wore his face, his hair, his clothes, everything but that bandana he had always worn and which now rested in Spence’s pocket— she slipped her hand in to check it was still there, and clutched it in her fist. Everything looked the same. But his eyes… those were not his eyes. She had memorized them, burned his gaze into her memory. James Prager had green eyes in both lives. Whoever this man was, his eyes were yellow.

It was all happening so fast. By the time Quaritch rendezvoused with Anderson, they had already received confirmation from Wainfleet that Corporal Spence had been located. So this wasn’t for nothing. Trading the lives of three of his own for three of Quaritch’s soldiers made Anderson's blood boil.

Barquilla caught up with them soon after, a riderless banshee following closely behind him. In his arms he held Chloe, a snapped off arrow sticking an inch out of her poorly bandaged shoulder. She was conscious, and could walk, but would not be able to raise that arm to make use of her rifle.

The moment she saw Kuboyama on the ground and coated in blood, she hopped off of Barquilla’s banshee, hardly even waiting for him to land. She knelt beside Anderson and nudged him out of the way, “What happened?”

“Connor’s bomb happened. Their banshees took most of it, but I think there’s shrapnel in their eyes,” Anderson responded gruffly. He tried not to show it, but he was losing hope.

Chloe sat back on her haunches. “Then there is nothing I can do,” she said quietly. “Touching it will cause more damage, and painkillers will make the bleeding worse.” She pulled a roll of bandages from her kit and wrapped it tenderly around their head, without gauze. They soaked through immediately. “This is the best I can do in the field.”

“Fuck!” Barquilla picked up a stray branch and hurled it at a tree. “If we lose anyone else, we won’t be able to fly home the very people we were sent out here to save. We’re fucked.”

He was right, of course. The very man that Anderson blamed for how badly things were going stepped away into the trees, flicking his comms to a channel only his team used. “Lyle,” Quaritch muttered, “how are they?”

“Spence is in shock,” He responded without delay. “I shouldn’t have let Prager land. I don’t know what she’s seen, but this is too much for her.”

“What about the other two,” Z-dog asked.

Lyle sighed into the mic, “She said they’re alive, before she saw Prager. Right now I’m just trying to get her back down to Earth— Pandora. Whatever. And I can’t send him your way because ain’t no chance I can put three extra people on my banshee.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Quaritch thought through his options. Fighting the horde was no longer an option with their reduced numbers.

Z-dog spoke again, “What’s the plan, Quaritch? Chase is getting restless just sitting here.” Her feed cut off just as he could hear Freddie start to respond.

He was about to respond himself, but he heard… something. Just a bit further ahead, it sounded like a wounded animal. Until a second sound joined it, sounding more like a voice. Quaritch held his finger over the trigger and crept forward.

Well, he may as well have struck gold.

“Spence, we need to go, now,” Lyle finally gave up trying and grabbed her hand, pulling her in the direction she'd indicated earlier. He’d given up on waiting for orders from Quaritch too. He hadn’t responded, and they were likely running out of time; he could just course correct later when the Colonel finally said something.

Prager followed, keeping an eye on the trees around them and looking like he was going to be sick. “Is this because of me? Did something happen— I–I didn’t hurt her before, did I?”

“No, man,” Lyle sighed. He spoke without turning back or slowing his pace. “She knew you were dead before I did, so she must have seen it. Plus who knows what they’ve been doing to her and the others on this fucking island.” He glanced back to check on Spence, only to see her staring ahead with tears gathering in her wide eyes. It pulled at his heartstrings.

They were much closer than he expected, in a clearing he had spotted earlier from the air. Ja sat slumped against a tree beside Mansk, who raised his gun at them the moment they emerged from the trees. Lyle raised his free hand as he continued to approach. He could see Mansk’s eyes squinting at them before they widened in recognition, and he pushed himself to his feet.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he groaned from the effort of standing and tucked his pistol into the back of his waistband.

“Your eyes look pretty fuckin’ sore,” Lyle chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder. “Glad to see you didn’t kick the bucket.”

Mansk’s eyes slid over to Spence. She looked… haunted, just barely registering his presence. He quickly realized why when he looked back to the third person with them. Prager stood stiffly behind Spence, keeping his distance from her like he would cut himself if he got too close; or if she would break. Goosebumps covered Mansk’s body and his face twisted in revulsion, which he immediately felt bad about and tried to cover up, “Hey, man.” The casual tone fell short.

Prager bit down on the inside of his cheek and looked away.

Spence let go of Lyle’s hand and went to kneel beside Ja. His breathing had quickened, his face scrunched in pain. A finger against his wrist told her his pulse had quickened as well. “I think he might wake up soon,” her voice was quiet, distant.

There had not yet been a reply from Quaritch since Lyle and Z-dog checked in. The silence was alarming. Prager dragged his eyes away from Spence to cast a glance into the sky before clicking his comms, “What’s the word, Colonel?”

In lieu of a response, they heard two shots fired in the distance. North, as always.

“We need to go,” Prager said before whistling for his ikran.

Lyle did the same, then jogged over to Spence. “Come on,” he knelt and put one of Ja’s arms over his shoulder, “help me get him onto the banshee.”

She did so, managing to help get him upright and even made it a few steps, before her knees began to wobble and nearly gave out. Her strength was waning. Every muscle in Spence’s body demanded that she stop, but she forced herself to take step after step until they could get Ja onto the back of Buttercup.

Her body tilted, nearly falling as the last of her adrenaline was used up and the pain and weakness she felt flooded her senses once again. “How are you supposed to carry us all?”

Casting a glance to Mansk, Lyle turned to Prager, “I can carry them both if you get him.”

Prager nodded, feeling it best if he spoke as little as possible so as to not to spook Spence or Mansk again. He hoped this would not go on forever, he had so much to tell her…

Buttercup had nothing but complaints about having three recoms on her back, as did Atlas with his two passengers. There was no choice but to carry the burden and take to the sky, making their way to rendezvous with Quaritch and the Anderson squad as quickly as possible.

There she was. The beastly woman who had killed him, threatened his son, slaughtered his friends. Pinned underneath her own wounded banshee. Quaritch had seen her like this once before, in the background of the footage pulled from his old AMP suit, but never in person. And lo and behold, when he peered from behind a tree, who did he see? Jake Sully. He’d just hit the jackpot.

This was not what they came here for — the three missing recoms had been located, all that was left was to grab them and leave — but what harm was there in killing two birds with one stone? He raised his rifle and took a long, steadying breath as he trained the sights on Jake. Four seconds in, hold for four, four out. With a steady hand, Quaritch pulled the trigger—

Click. Click.

Empty. He unloaded two full magazines at that woman, and nothing. It was not his bullets that downed her, but the explosion. At least that boy’s death was good for something.

As Quaritch reached for another magazine to reload, he realized there were two wide yellow eyes trained on him. Eye contact with Neytiri sent shivers down his spine; he would never admit such a thing, but she scared him. Jake had not yet noticed, and she had not yet said anything to him. He gave up on reloading the AR and drew the pistol at his thigh, closing the distance between himself and Jake. Quaritch knew better than to get too close. He stopped just shy of twenty feet behind Jake as Neytiri mouthed something to him.

Jake turned to meet the hulking WASP pistol trained between his eyes, hands still pressed to the gushing wound in his wife’s shoulder. He only saw two choices: keep tending to Neytiri, potentially saving her life in exchange for his own, or try to get ahead of Quaritch’s bullets and save his own life, losing her in the process. Their children lost a parent either way. And that’s if he didn’t just put his wife down immediately after Jake.

“You bastard,” Jake hissed, positioning his body to block as much of Neytiri from the gun as he could without removing pressure from the wound.

Quaritch’s lips pulled back, halfway between snarl and devilish grin. “I said I owed you a death,” he said to Neytiri, catching her eyes between Jake’s arms. “How ‘bout I be nice? Ftxey,” he switched into Na’vi to make absolutely sure she understood, and demanded that she choose. “Tìrey ngeyä, fu peyä.” Your life, or his.

Jake whispered something to her without taking his eyes off Quaritch or the gun in his hand. He was too far to be heard, but she responded more loudly, just enough for him to hear her over Prager’s voice in his earpiece: “Tspang po.”

The words were familiar, but their meaning did not immediately register in Quaritch’s mind, distracted as he was by the voice in his ear. He raised a hand to his comms before pausing, the meaning hitting just as she repeated herself. “Kill him.” Jake had looked resistant to her command at first, but then his face hardened into sheer determination.

Quaritch recognized his error too late. “Keep yourself at least twenty one feet away from a threat,” he remembered his drill instructor in the Marines saying, “or else you won’t have time to react when they rush you.” Jake looked Neytiri in the eyes, took something from her hand, and pushed himself to his feet. He was already running toward Quaritch when he realized he was standing too close. He took a step back and discharged his weapon, a single shot, but Jake dodged it by diving to the ground. He was on his feet again in no time, closing the distance and slashing at the Colonel just as he shot again, catching him in the ear this time and blowing half of it off.

Jake didn’t stop to react to the pain or staunch the bleeding, and instead pushed Quaritch’s gun arm up and twisted his wrist until he dropped it, kicking the WASP away and reeling back with his knife hand in an attempt to drive the blade between his ribs. Quaritch caught his wrist just in time, struggling to hold the knife back while his other hand was still above his head. He leaned back before slamming his head forward into Jake’s nose; he heard it crunch.

The hit staggered Jake enough for Quaritch to wrench his arm out of his grasp and swing his fist into an uppercut, knocking him off balance. He shoved the arm pointing a knife at his ribs away and unsheathed his own. “I’m gonna enjoy this Sully. I’ll make it real slow for your wife, too. Give her a show,” his lips pulled back in a smile, his fangs stained with the blood that trickled down from his forehead.

Jake shook the stars from his eyes, recovering from his daze, and brandished the knife in front of him once more. “You sick fuck,” he heard the flapping of more ikran wings and knew his time was limited, “I’d return the favor, but I need to make this quick.”

Quaritch laughed like a string of his sanity had been fraying for months and finally snapped before throwing his body at Jake’s.

They could see someone waving at them from a clearing below, prompting them to land. Another recom Spence didn’t recognize, but she knew the tattoos that emblazoned his neck and chest: this was Barquilla, someone else from Anderson Squad. Her first thought was about Amari, and how glad she’d be to see him, but that was quickly pushed out of her mind when she saw the two injured people beside him. She could put the pieces together well enough to tell that they were Chloe and Kuboyama. Their distinctive features — bright blonde hair and vitiligo, respectively — made it easy.

Lyle helped her down from his ikran before she helped him lower Ja to the ground, and Chloe approached. Her shoulder was messily bandaged, bleeding through in places, and had an arrow shaft jutting out of it. But she was alive. If Spence had had any tears left, she would have started crying again. She shut the world out for a moment, letting the pain coursing through her body and the war unfolding around her fall away so it was just her and Chloe. One of her closest friends, finally back from the dead. She took her hand as she stopped next to Ja before crushing her into a hug, careful to avoid her wound.

“I missed you,” Spence said quietly.

Chloe said nothing, but she returned the hug loosely before pulling away.

Spence nearly asked if she was okay, before realizing how stupid of a question that was. How could she be? They had taken casualties on what was likely their first mission, anyone would be rattled. God knew Spence had been; still was, if she was being honest with herself.

Chloe gave her a weak smile before kneeling to give what little aid she could to Ja, who needed it the most of the three.

“Where’s Colonel Anderson?” Lyle eyed Ji-cheol, whose rider was nowhere to be seen, before turning his attention to Barquilla.

Barquilla paced back and forth near Kuboyama with his rifle at the ready. “He stormed off into the trees after those shots. Told me to stay here, not that I would follow,” he huffed. “He can get himself killed if he wants. The kid gets shot and he starts acting like the rest of us died too.” He spat on the ground.

Someone on the other end of the comms chose then to radio in. Everyone with an earpiece listened at attention in case it was one of the Colonels. Instead, they heard Freddie’s voice, sounding slightly annoyed, “What the hell were those shots?” His voice was not quite as hushed as it should have been considering how close to the Na’vi they were. “We’ve been picking off whatever blues get close to us, but we can only stay out here so long. Colonel? Seriously, we could use some direction right now. They’re gonna notice us soon.”

Barquilla raised his hand to respond, “Where are you?”

“Was that Quaritch?” Mansk asked to clarify, seeing as he had no way to hear the message.

The sergeant shook his head no.

“Go into the woods and head southeast from your location,” Anderson responded in hushed tones after some silence. “I’m going after Quaritch. Retreat as soon as I give word.” 

Kuboyama, who still lay on the ground, brought a weak hand to their throat comm. “What about you, Taeyang?”

“What about me?”

“You have to come back.”

He didn’t answer them, he couldn’t promise it. He trudged further into the bush instead. The sounds of fighting creeped into Anderson’s ears, and he started jogging through the underbrush to catch up to. Quaritch had explicit orders not to do this, yet here he was… 

Jake recognized him immediately. He’d never had dealings with the other two colonels of Hell’s Gate, but he knew of them. He knew they could be just as cruel and brutal as Quaritch, if not more. And if all three of them were after him and his family? That was bad. Very bad. But he could do nothing to stop the masked colonel as the other, his former mentor, had pinned one of his hands to the ground with his blade, driving it through his palm. Jake’s free arm could barely block his head as Quaritch delivered blow after blow.

Anderson said nothing as he marched up behind Quaritch. The man raised both fists into the air, about to slam them down onto Jake’s head, before he felt a sharp pain in the back of his skull and he was yanked backward. A soundless cry left his lips. The pain made his vision go white for a few seconds before he could see who had interrupted the fight. He looked up to see Anderson, green eyes ablaze with fury.

“What the fuck did I say!?” His normally quiet voice howled down at him, fingers still curled around the base of his queue in an iron grip. “We are not here for Sully. We are leaving before you cause any more pointless damage.”

Quaritch tried hopelessly to loosen Anderson’s grip on the braid, but it only angered him more.

“I was not lying when I said I’d shoot you. Do not test me.”

Both of their eyes moved to Jake as he pulled the knife from his hand and pulled himself up. He flipped the knife, poised to throw it. Anderson drew his pistol from its holster at the small of his back and trained it between Jake’s eyes. He was not far enough away to avoid the knife if it was thrown, but he could damn well shoot Jake dead even if he did; they both knew it.

Neither man spoke as they faced off. Anderson released Quaritch’s braid only to roughly haul him to his feet and shove him back the way they came. Jake did not throw the knife. Their inaction was by no means a truce, but rather a promise to face each other later. They would hold nothing back then.

The first thing Quaritch saw when Anderson roughly shoved from behind into the clearing was the banshees, more of them than when he left, chittering away at each other like a pack of cackling viperwolves. To the left of the flock: a limp, unconscious man, his clothes ripped and stained with blood and dirt. It took a moment for him to see past the swollen and ugly bruises littering his face to see that this was Ja. He pushed Anderson’s hand away and approached Lyle.

“You got everyone?” His words were calm and composed, but he fought to keep his tone steady. A whirlwind of emotions stirred under the surface of his composure; rage, grief, anxiety. Fear, above all.

Lyle turned from Spence to Quaritch, visible relief on his face. “Yeah. Ja won’t be walking anytime soon, or even conscious, but the other two are more or less okay.”

“I’m so happy for you,” Anderson huffed from behind Quaritch before joining the wounded members of his own squad. 

Barquilla opened comms again, “Freddie, Z-dog, how close are you?”

“Closer than your eyes are to each other. Seriously, it’s like they were trying to make your Na’vi head as wide as possible—”

“Shut up Chase,” Z-dog interjected. “We can hear the banshees, we’re almost there.”

The nightmare was almost over. Spence had lost track of how many days she’d been out in the Eastern Sea, away from Bridgehead. Too many. The exhaustion and blood loss were taking their toll, and one of her legs buckled under her weight. She hit the ground hard, a rock on the ground hitting her knee in just the right spot to send an all new shot of pain through her nervous system and make her cry out. 

Quaritch was at her side by the time she looked up from where her hands clawed into the dirt. Being told he was alive after watching the ship sink with him on it was one thing, seeing him knelt in front of her with worry running across his features was another entirely. He put her arm over his shoulder and helped her to her feet, careful to not pull at the gash in her side.

She did not immediately let go, and neither did he. They each thought the other had died. A dry sob escaped Spence’s throat and she threw her other arm around his neck, clinging to him like he would disappear again. At Hell’s Gate, or even just a matter of weeks ago, they never would have interacted like this where others could see. The closeness of their relationship was not unknown to anyone present, but it had never been for their eyes.

Spence saw over Quaritch’s shoulder Z-dog and Freddie emerging from trees in their wetsuits. Had the situation been reversed, she would have been the one in the silhouette-altering black ensemble. But had that been the case, she would have been the one killing innocents; or maybe the one laying abandoned in the forest with an arrow through her neck.

She realized they were running, hurriedly calling their ikrans before whipping around to face the forest. She couldn’t see past them into the dark, but Freddie’s rifle was missing. Quaritch gently pulled her off of him as soon as he realized something was happening.

“We need to go, now!” Z-dog yelled over her shoulder, backing up toward Seraph as soon as she landed.

Freddie ducked under his mount's wing before it landed and connected with it as soon as it touched the ground. “As much as I wish we could’ve seen more action over there, she’s right. A whole horde of ‘em coming this way.”

Everyone scrambled for their ikran, or to help the wounded and mountless onto theirs. Anderson scooped up Kuboyama, Freddie grabbed Chloe’s hand and hauled her onto his. Spence let Quaritch usher her towards Cupcake while she watched Lyle and Prager lift Ja onto Atlas.

They had just barely gotten into the air by the time the Na’vi came out of the trees with their spears and crossbows, not even having yet cleared the treetops. The ikrans just barely evaded speartip and arrowhead before they had gained enough height to be out of range.

Spence held her breath, expecting to see Neytiri or Jake rising to chase them. No one came.

She realized, as the island faded on the darkened horizon, that she’d made it. This was her last thought as the darkness consumed her consciousness, and she slumped against Quaritch’s back.

Chapter Text

“Phoebe, I have a favor to ask,” Chloe said as she sat down across from Spence and Amari in Hell’s Kitchen for lunch. It was one of the few days in a week when their schedules lined up, allowing them to have meals together. She felt hungry but ignored the tray of food, instead clasping her right hand over her left on the table.

Spence swallowed a dry mouthful of bread before responding, “Hm? Is it big? Not that I won’t do it, I just wanna know what I’d be getting into.” She heard Amari try to hold in a laugh, like there was an inside joke between the two women that Spence wasn’t privy to.

“You could say that…” She slid her right hand away, revealing the ring on her left. It was simple, made from a Pandoran river rock and some scrap wire, but it was beautiful. Its creator must have spent days on it. “I want you to be one of my bridesmaids.”

“Is that— oh my god, Chloe!” She nearly launched herself across the plastic table to scoop her into her arms.

Chloe laughed and let herself be pulled in, pushing her tray to the side so they wouldn’t both land in the food. “It’ll just be a small thing with some friends, and it won’t even be legal ‘til we both get back to Earth, anyway.”

Other people in the mess hall had started to stare at the commotion they were making. Amari grabbed Spence by the belt and pulled her back down to her seat. “You’re going back next rotation?” The look on Amari’s face was happy for the couple, yet it was tinged with betrayal.

“Did Alexis not tell you?” Chloe looked down at her hands. “Yeah. Our contracts aren't up for another few years, but we’ve been talking about going back together. Even if it’s way further down the line, we want to. We just aren’t sure when we’ll do it.”

Amari nodded. She would interrogate her brother later.

“What about you two?” Chloe looked back up at the two redheads. “Would you ever go back?”

“Haven’t thought about it,” Amari shrugged.

Spence pursed her lips. “I don’t know,” she said after some thought. “Not much left for me there at this point. Maybe if I fell in love with someone and they asked me to go back with them…” She laughed, “What a fairytale that would be.”

The journey back to Bridgehead City was not a short one, nor was it easy. With the extra load of a second passenger upon the ikrans’ backs, they had to stop more often and for longer. While they had not yet run out, it soon became clear that the medical supplies would not last until they made it back. Chloe did all she could with what she had, but she was quietly weighing in her head which recoms could go without care. Spence first, for her wounds had mostly stopped bleeding and only needed to be cleaned to stave off infection, and then Mansk, whose injuries paled in comparison to those of Ja and Kuboyama.

A flash of lightning and a clap of thunder jolted Spence awake. She looked around frantically, not recognizing where she was, her chest heaving and her tail standing on its end. A hand on her shoulder startled her again, but she relaxed slightly as she recognized its owner, who kneeled beside her.

“It’s okay,” Quaritch said, his voice as soothing as he could muster. “The weather turned, but we managed to hole up in this sea cave.” He handed her an MRE, which he’d already cut open for her, and a flask of water.

“How…” Her voice came out in a croak, dry from misuse, so she stopped to take a gulp from the flask. “How far out are we?”

He cocked his head to think about it, “Maybe two days after this storm lets up, at the current pace. Banshees gotta rest more with the extra load, so it’s slow goin’.”

She nodded and glanced around the cave. It was small, even more cramped with all the ikrans and recoms shoved into it. Mansk sat a few feet to her right, eating his rations, and Ja lay unconscious at their feet with a supply pack under his head for support. He looked so fragile, his bruised and scraped features drawn tight with a pain that he wasn’t even awake to feel. Perhaps, she mused, that was a mercy.

Quaritch lowered himself to a seated position and watched her. He may have lost Spider, but he saved her. He didn’t know what he would have done if she had died. A selfish thought about how inconvenient it would be to deal with a revived and emotionally vulnerable Spence on this mission crossed his mind, and he immediately felt bad for it. No, it was deeper than that.

He hadn’t been letting himself think about Paz — Spider’s mother — but he suddenly remembered something she’d said while pregnant with the boy. In a weird way, this won’t really be your first go at fatherhood. She laughed at his confusion when he asked her what she meant, only explaining it a few days later: Your entire inner circle sees it, Miles. You treat each other like family when you think no one’s looking.

“You’re staring,” Spence muttered.

He blinked, rubbed his eyes. “Sorry. ‘M tired. We should all try to rest while we can. Especially you,” he gestured to both Mansk and Spence.

She nodded and Quaritch pulled himself up with a divot in the cave wall. As soon as he was no longer blocking her from sight, he saw eyes swiveling to look at her. Prager tried not to look like he was constantly stealing glances toward her, and Colonel Anderson didn’t even make an attempt to make it seem like he wasn’t giving her a death glare. Knowing him, he’d found a way to blame her for the casualties his squad took.

Sleep did not return to Spence until well after the storm lifted. The others slept, though, their snores and mumbles drowned out by the hammering rain and booming thunder. Spence stayed in her spot beside Ja, awake by some cruel stroke of fate even though she was still weak and exhausted. Her eyes had just managed to close when she heard something: a voice. It sounded like Ja. Water had been coaxed down his throat at some point, judging by his wet lips, but his voice was still so raspy and quiet. It  sounded like her name. Spence pulled herself up to kneel over him. Sure enough, she heard it again as she watched his lips form the shapes of “Phoebe.”

“Alex?” she whispered just loud enough for him to hear over the storm, but careful not to wake anyone. “Can you hear me?” She grabbed his hand to let him know she was there. “Please.”

A low sob choked its way out of his throat. Every line in his face pulled in tight with pain, his eyelashes fluttering like butterflies trying to take flight, like some invisible force held them shut. His whole body shivered, trembled, like a leaf in the wind. His hand twitched in hers. He was trying to move.

But just as she grasped onto that flickering ray of hope of him waking up, little by little, he stopped moving. Spence sat and watched him for what may well have been hours, fearful his breathing might suddenly stop as well, as the storm ebbed away and the sun broke out. It was not long before the recoms roused as well, and she still had not slept. The squad wasted no time at all loading up the ikrans and taking flight once more. It was not until Spence lay her head against Quaritch’s back and set her gaze on Ja’s limp body being carried by Lyle’s ikran that her eyelids finally grew heavy.

Every sense was overtaken with fear. The forest around her blurred past, her body acting on its own to propel itself forward while her mind spun in circles. Flames, flames everywhere. And impending doom chasing close behind, nipping at her heels, clawing for her ponytail. Spence looked down and saw human hands, human legs, but she moved with the deftness of a Na’vi.

The forest started to grow larger as she went, the undergrowth choking her before it too towered over her head— or maybe she was the one shrinking. The thing chasing did not change size. Its six footfalls made the ground rumble beneath her feet, the nightmarish rumbles in its chest echoing like thunder. She could not bear to look behind herself, but Spence recognized that throaty growl. She would remember it for lifetimes.

A slinth chased her.

She could not possibly outrun the beast that ate Kevin alive. It knew this. It leapt, soaring over her head, the impact of the massive thing's landing shaking the ground like an earthquake and throwing her to her knees.

When again she looked up, she was once again her normal size. Human-sized. The slinth stared down at her with beady red eyes before the plates around its head opened like a flower, two huge pincer-like fangs spreading as it did, dripping with venom.

It had Kevin’s face.

She could not breathe, could not move. Her eyes met Kevin’s and stayed there, watching as he crept forward with his slinth body and unhinged his jaw, until there was hardly a breath between them. Then the pincer-fangs clamped down and pierced her neck.

Spence was already screaming when she woke up, her throat sore from it. The harsh light immediately burned her eyes. She recognized the room, had spent many hours there, but it was not welcoming. The cold steel and glass of the hospital room felt as if they boxed her in like a cage, closing in until they crushed her. She ran a shaky hand through her hair, only to realize it was clean and brushed through. Someone had washed her before placing her in this bed.

A figure appeared in the doorway, hurrying through the sliding glass door. It took a moment for her to realize this was Castello’s avatar form after all the weeks it had been since she’d seen it. “Are you alright? I heard screaming.”

It felt so surreal. She had been ready to die, more than willing to do so, even if it was meaningless. Now she was in Bridgehead’s infirmary being cared for by someone whose sole mission was to keep her alive. She nodded vacantly.

“Can I get you anything?” The look on his face was that of deep concern, but he did not pry.

Her mouth opened to speak, but her throat was too dry. Castello noticed this and went to the sink in the corner to fill a glass. He checked her IV while she drank, making sure everything was in order.

When she could finally speak, she said, “How is Alex?”

“Ja is…” he paused, thinking how to best phrase this to avoid alarm, “...stable, but sedated. He woke up yesterday, but seemed mentally unwell.” He stopped again like he was deciding on whether or not to continue. “I don’t think I should say more.”

“Please,” she grabbed his hand and looked up at him pleadingly. Not even her last visit to him, when she feared she was pregnant, did she look so scared and desperate. “I just need to know he’ll be okay.”

He sighed, but relented. “I’m only telling you this because I know what you are to each other. His bloodwork was strange.” He looked down at where she squeezed his hand, tail swishing behind him. “Everything looked as you’d expect from a man who’d been starving to death, except one thing. There was a chemical trace whose compound I didn’t recognize, nor did anyone else in SciOps that I consulted on the matter. Its structure almost looked like LSD, but—”

She sucked in a breath, interrupting him. “The moss.”

“Moss..?”

“They shoved something down Ja’s throat and made sure he swallowed it. Mansk said they made him eat it too.” She pulled her hand away and pushed herself up in bed, wincing in pain as something in her side protested. “May–Maybe it was a stronger dose for Alex or something, but that has to be it, right?” It hurt her head to put the dots together.

Castello nodded hesitantly, unsure, “Perhaps. I’ll look into it.” He trailed off before muttering, “Maybe Zu’ap knows of it.”

She shifted again, and that pain in her side made her wince once more. “How bad was it? How is everyone else?”

“Well. You all made quite the mess of things,” He said with a touch of venom before returning his voice to its normal calmness, “but I do not take out my ire on patients. The Colonels got plenty of that after I dealt with their scrapes and bruises.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Ja and Kuboyama were taken straight to emergency surgery, Mansk and Caven should be cleared soon, and you…” He leaned down to check the screen at the foot of her bed, “depending on the state of your injury, I could discharge you today.”

It hurt too much for that. She tentatively ran her hand over it, feeling the bandages through the thin fabric of her hospital gown. “What do you mean, surgery?” Her voice was quiet.

“That was two days ago, they’re now resting in their rooms. There is no morphine in your IV right now, by the way. And all that adrenaline I can imagine was pumping through you has worn off, so that’s going to hurt for a bit. I can prescribe some painkillers for when you leave, if you like, but first…”

She stopped listening. Two days… It occurred to her that she couldn’t remember the remainder of the journey back to the city. She climbed onto Quaritch’s ikran in that cave, and then… nothing. It was blank, replaced with the horrible nightmare that she could now only barely remember. She could recall one thing, however: the holes in her old life where memories should be.

“Corporal?” Castello’s voice bled through her thoughts. He stood at the foot of her bed, looking down at her with concern. “Were you listening?”

Spence blinked, looking at him vacantly. “No, sorry.”

“Are you sure you’re alright? I know there aren’t any counselors, but if you need someone to talk to, I can try my best. Mental health affects the physical, and I’m already responsible for the latter.”

She sighed, staring into space. She could tell him, but what difference would it make? He couldn’t fix it. “It’s fine. Thanks, though.”

He nodded even though he didn’t believe her, but he wasn’t going to pry. “Alright. All that’s left now is to check how everything’s healing,” he said as he washed his hands and pulled on gloves. 

He started with her wrists, which had healed well, before moving up to her ear and neck where she’d been cut. The opposite side now hurt more than where her tracker had been cut out, and Castello informed her that they had been implanted with new ones on the opposite side. She suddenly felt like a dog: spayed, chipped, and only allowed out when leashed.

Next he had her swing her legs over the edge of the bed to check her feet, which had been bandaged as well. Once he concluded that they were fine, they tested if she could stand. Only once Spence was upright did she catch a glance at her reflection in the mirror nearby. She looked worse off than that very first day, thinner and mangier, and she had the urge to punch this mirror like she did then. The reflection showed the length of her hair as well. She’d let it fall to the wayside even before the fiasco of the last few weeks, and it now fell in waves to her collarbones. 

She pulled her hair back behind her shoulders, the wound in her side protesting as she raised her arms to do so. Her earrings were gone, she knew that, but something else was missing when her hands brushed past her neck. 

“Where are my tags?” Spence’s voice was anxious.

Castello glanced up from where he was scribbling on his datapad. “With the rest of your things. Your clothes were mostly ruined, but I hesitated to throw them away, just in case. I can get them in just a—”

“Now, please.” There was a desperate edge to her voice. She added, quieter, “I need them.”

Some would consider Castello’s softness a weakness, but a bit of softness was needed here. In his mind, most of the recoms were blunt and sharp-edged; weapons to smash, not to comfort. Starved, injured, and alone, Spence looked one crack away from shattering. He turned wordlessly and fetched a bag from a cabinet alongside a stack of fresh clothes.

She didn’t say anything as she tore the bag open, frantically searching through the contents. ‘Ruined’ was an understatement, all of her clothes were in blood-and-mud-soaked tatters. Her hands folded around the cold metal of a chain and pulled it out to find her dog tags. A breath she didn’t know she’d been holding left her lungs as she saw that Prager’s tags were still strung next to hers. They were back in their rightful place around her neck, dangling over her heart, before she started rooting around in the bag once more. Her hand came back out with his headband, crumpled and dirtied. She stared at it strangely, not unlike the way her dad had stared at her brother’s shirt after he died. The man who claimed to be Prager hadn’t been wearing it.

“Are you alright?” The doctor’s gentle voice had this innate power to pull Spence out of her head when she got too stuck in it.

“Not really, if I’m being honest.”

He smiled, “Well, your candor is a good start.” He looked down at the datapad again, then back to her. “There’s just one more thing. I’m going to turn around, and you can undress to your comfort level. You can even put these on if you like,” he gestured to the clean clothes. “Then I need to take a look at the stitches in your abdomen.”

“Okay.”

There was nothing under the tissue-thin blue and white gown. She was considering just putting on the underwear and forgoing the rest when someone knocked on the glass door, which had been covered by a curtain to give Spence her privacy. Castello grumbled something about that very thing as he went across the room to tell this to the visitor. She quickly pulled on the clothing — training sweatpants, an army green tank top, and a Project Phoenix hoodie, all likely chosen to ensure she was comfortable — while she listened to tell who the newcomer’s voice belonged to.

“Lemme see her, doc.” No denying Quaritch’s voice. Judging by the tone he used, he clearly still held Castello’s defense of Zu’ap against him; luckily the Na’vi did not seem to be nearby. 

She had no line of sight on them, but could hear Castello reply with, “You can’t just barge in here, Colonel. I am in the middle of discussing Spence’s care with her, and anyway she is changing, so you can’t go in.

“So, she’s awake?”

“Yes, but that’s not the— hey!”

Spence heard the door rattling, and could only assume Quaritch had shoved it fully open to enter the room, likely pushing Castello out of his way as well. He came around the edge of the curtain just as she was pulling the hoodie down her torso. She expected him to stop, to say something, but he just kept walking toward her with that sort of deadly determination that he seldom pointed at her. Muscles tensed and eyes squeezed shut as she braced for whatever was about to come, but no pain came, only the warm pressure of arms squeezing her. Her eyes slowly opened to realize Quaritch had crushed her into an embrace.

The strangeness of it was nearly as alarming as if he’d hit her. She didn’t know why that was what she’d expected. She hadn’t told anyone that she willingly gave any information to Jake, so how could Quaritch be upset about something he wasn’t aware of? His hand rested on the back of her head, his face pressed into her hair. He’d never expressed this kind of physical affection — not even with Paz — much less in front of anyone.

It took a few moments for her arms to stop being limp at her sides and return the hug. Tears welled up in her eyes. “I–I thought you were dead,” she said, her voice small.

“Can’t kill me that easy,” he replied. His voice was right above her ear, but he was still so quiet.

His shoulder muffled her voice, absorbed her sobs. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault people got killed.” I killed people, and more were killed trying to save me. Innocent Na’vi— innocent people. “I had the shot, Miles.”

Even as she said it, Spence knew she was lying to herself; she would never have done it. She’d been lying to herself since the moment she set foot on Pandora, all those years ago, but this was the biggest. Her own guilt was a pill too big to swallow, and she was choking on it.

He pulled away to look at her, tilting her head back to make eye contact. “You came back, that’s what counts. I got you back.”

She knew he was thinking of Spider. That fact was undeniable. But there was also no denying the fact that he had sought her out, had cared to come see her, hell, he was hugging her. The Quaritch of a few weeks ago could never. But he had lost more than comrades in the past weeks, as strange as it felt to admit.

Castello was pretending he didn’t exist, burying his attention into the tablet in his hands, until Quaritch turned his attention to him, “Just do whatever it is you needed to do, doc.”

His voice, suddenly louder, startled him and he fumbled with the tablet. He looked between Quaritch and Spence for a moment. “I’ll have to ask you to leave, then, for patient privacy. It’s policy.”

Quaritch snarled, “Fuck your policy.” Even so, he moved for the door.

“It’s fine,” Spence spoke up before he made it to the exit. “I don’t really mind.”

Castello nodded warily before approaching, gesturing to her side. “Could you lift your shirt, please? You can sit if you like.”

She still felt weak, so taking a seat on the bed was a welcome offer. Pulling up her hoodie and shirt, she realized she hadn't properly taken a look at the bandages yet. They looked fresh. 

His gloved hands were cold as he gently unwrapped her stomach and pulled up the tape that fastened the gauze in place. The stitches were done neatly, and it was clear they had been done with an expert hand. They showed no sign of pulling apart or bleeding through, despite how much they hurt. He nodded to himself and stood.

“This is great,” Castello said, tapping at the datapad some more. “You’re healing about as well as can be expected, given the extent of dehydration and malnutrition you suffered. And speaking of those, I’d like to get a blood test to make sure everything looks good. I can let you go today if that’s the case.”

Spence nodded, not particularly caring about any of it. She rolled up her sleeve for him to put in the needle. When he was gone, Quaritch sat beside her on the bed. His weight sank the thin mattress and made her lean slightly, and she let gravity take her the rest of the way, her head landing on his shoulder. Neither of them looked directly at the other, looking instead at their respective reflections.

A question had been sitting on Spence’s tongue since she saw Lyle with not-Prager; then later when she met not-Z-dog. The others acted like it was so normal for a dead person to return so easily. Yes, obviously, she had done the very thing herself, but that was different. Wasn’t it? Why those two?? She couldn’t bring herself to ask.

The silence finally cracked with a sigh from Quaritch. The bruising had begun to fade from around his eye, leaving it ugly and green. “You did good on the ship, Phoebe,” he said. It was the best he could come up with.

“I…” She didn’t know what to say to that. “I tried coming back for you, when it sank. Lyle stopped me.” 

He sighed again, “Good.”

They got quiet again. Vulnerability was not something Quaritch was had ever been good at, but the past week had tested him, she could see that clear as day. He opened his mouth as if to say something. She hoped he might shed some light on how Spider had saved him as the kid hadn’t expanded on it himself. Why would you save someone, just to abandon them moments later?

He thought better of it, looking away from the mirror and standing. He scrubbed his hands over the thighs of his pants, unsure what to do with them. Avoiding it was easier, he decided, like when he witnessed Spence and Prager arguing on the Seadragon that night. He excused himself quietly and slipped out of the room.

Spence’s lips had just parted to speak, but he did not see that. Her mouth hung open after he was gone, the ghosts of the word floating out. Why? After long enough, she closed her mouth and stood. She knew that Ja at least was still in the hospital. If Castello needed her, he could find her, so she went to find Ja.

Funny how quickly your world could change. Just five days ago, it felt like Spider may finally get a chance at something similar to how his life had been before. It had changed in an instant before, too, leaving him trapped with some of the worst villains Pandora had ever seen for six months.

Well, not all of them. Ja seemed okay, at least he was nicer to Zu’ap. Dr. Castello too, of course, he was actually good as far as Spider was concerned, except for how he had willingly come to Pandora; he hoped he would come around to the Resistance soon. And then there was Spence… she was complicated. Jake and Noah trusted her, or at least they used to, but so did Quaritch. She straddled two sides of a delicate and dangerous line.

The homes constructed above the water had mostly been spared, and those closest to the trees had suffered the worst damage. Spider gripped the burnt edge of a marui’s canopy and heaved, tearing it from its charred wooden frame and sending a cloud of ash and dust into the air. He stumbled backward to avoid it getting sucked into his exopack’s filter, slipping in the soft sand and falling onto his back.

Noah appeared upside down from where they looked down at him. “Hey, Spider. Can we talk?” The look on their face was grave.

He sighed, fogging the glass of his mask slightly. He had an inkling of what it was they wanted to talk about. It was only a matter of time before someone figured it out. “Yeah,” he answered.

They reached down to help him up. “Let’s take a little walk.”

It was more than a little walk. He followed them into the trees, and the pair stayed silent all the while. Noah was short by Na’vi standards, so he barely had to lengthen his stride at all to keep their pace. Eventually they passed by the frame Spence had been tied to, long forgotten in the need to rebuild, care for the wounded, bury the dead. 

Spider dragged his eyes away from the abandoned structure and looked up to Noah. “How is Neytiri doing, and Jake?” He knew, though he hadn’t seen Neytiri since before the bombing, but he needed something to break the silence.

“Jake is being Jake. He’s insisting on keeping his hands busy despite the massive hole in one of them. And Neytiri’s doing well,” Noah sighed, “or, as well as she can. The bullet didn’t hit anything vital, just clipped a bit of bone. She’ll have a nasty scar.” They looked down at him before calling for their ikran. 

“Is… this walk turning into a flight?”

Noah nodded in response. “Hey, Hiraya,” they murmured, reaching out a hand to stroke her chin crest and pulling a bit of cured meat from a pouch to feed it to her. Her green skin was bright enough to manage to stand out among the surrounding foliage. She nipped at Noah’s fingers before huffing, sending a puff of air into their face. “Come on,” they said to Spider, helping him onto her back and settling him in front of them.

On the ground, he could have walked away from the conversation, or at least put a bit of distance between himself and Noah. On the back of Hiraya, however, there was no escape from the avatar who had helped raise him sitting directly behind him. If someone like Neytiri found out what he’d done, he would be in mortal danger. Noah wouldn’t hurt him… most likely; he’d heard a few stories of how scary they could be.

Not that it mattered anyway. Even if Quaritch had died, the RDA would just make another one.

Only when they were high above the islands did Noah finally get into what they actually wanted to say. “I know you saved him.”

Spider’s blood ran cold, colder than the high altitude breeze already made him feel. He knew this was coming, there was nothing else it could be, but the confrontation still terrified him. Addressing it made his worst fear undeniably true: this was his fault.

His shoulders sagged. “Did Spence tell you?”

“Yeah. I think she had an inkling of the consequences you’d face, it didn’t seem like she wanted to tell me. But she also knew she shouldn’t keep that from us.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but no sound came out. He wished they were on the ground so he could run away.

“You’re a good kid, Spider,” they continued. “You aren’t like your father. I think that’s exactly why you saved him.”

He blinked away the few tears that were attempting to escape his eyes. “You—” his voice broke, “You aren’t mad?”

“Oh, I’m livid,” Noah said, though their voice did not sound angry. They squeezed his shoulder. “But I know you meant well, that’s just who you are.”

“I made everything worse,” he whispered, barely audible over the rush of air and Hiraya’s breathing.

They wrapped their arm around his shoulders and pulled him back into a hug. “Don't think about that right now.” They could feel his heart racing.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus on calming himself. It didn't help. “Are you going to tell Jake? Or Neytiri?”

“No.” They paused before adding, “She would kill you for sure. Jake… I don't know how he'd react. I don't know if he could forgive you.”

Spider couldn't find the words to respond, but Noah had only confirmed his fears.

They let go of him and sighed, turning Hiraya in a wide circle to go back the way they came. “I won't tell them, but they might figure it out, it just makes too much sense. You just… need to be better, okay?”

He nodded silently.

“Okay. Now let's head back.”

The constant beep… beep… beep… of the heart monitor was about to drive Spence insane in the otherwise silent room, but it was a reminder that the man in front of her was alive. She had to keep reminding herself of the fact, so convinced she had been to the contrary. The rhythm of his breathing, the warmth of his hands, the beat of his heart. She repeatedly found herself leaning over him to put her ear to his chest, just to hear the real thing.

Ja was alive, alive, alive.

The stool she’d found to sit on was small and uncomfortable, but was still preferable to risking causing him any more pain by getting in the bed with him. Instead she slumped over the bed to rest her head against his uninjured thigh, clutching his hand like a lifeline. She refused to unfix her gaze from his face, hoping for any signs that he might wake soon. She’d lost too much already, she couldn’t lose him too. Not after everything.

She wasn’t entirely sure how long she had been watching him, waiting for any sign that he was with her, just that, eventually, he was. The first sign was that terrible beep growing slightly quicker. By the time she noticed that, his hand twitched in hers, instinctively tightening his grip as if he knew it was her. She stared at their clasped hands, looking for any sign that she hadn’t imagined it, silently praying to whoever wasn’t listening that it was real.

It was a long moment before anything else happened; it felt like forever. This wasn’t like before, in the cave, where it seemed as if he was fighting to wake up despite being chained down by whatever kept him asleep. Something had been weighing his consciousness down then, but now it rose gradually to the surface. His eyelids twitched and fluttered, not quite opening.

Spence stood so fast that the stool rolled a few feet away. “Alex?” She put her open hand on his head, feeling the small bit of fuzz that had finally begun to grow, before moving it to cup his cheek; funny how nearly dying was the only thing that could kick-start his body into remembering it could grow hair. “Please, babe,” she muttered, “wake up.”

Her voice seemed to be enough. His face drew its features in tight before the tension receded again. Then his eyes slowly peeled open, and she was the first thing he saw.

“Hey,” he croaked. His voice was deep and creaky from disuse.

Tears that she wasn’t aware had been forming spilled from her eyes. “Hey.”

His eyes were like two unfocused pools of amber, looking around at the room and at her. “What’s goin’ on, why are you crying?”

“We’re in the infirmary. I was so fucking scared for you.”

“Oh,” Ja shook his head slightly, “right. Still a bit hazy.” He glanced down at his leg, mummified in a cast, then back up at her. “Actually, I remember something Jude said.”

Her eyebrows raised, “What is it?”

He closed his eyes. “I’m not gonna make it,” he said slowly. ”The only cure is if you show me your boobs.”

Spence’s heart felt like it actually stopped for a moment. Then the second half of what he said processed in her brain, and despite herself, a laugh bubbled up from her chest. Leave it to Alexander Ja to make her laugh in these circumstances. But the concept of anybody seeing her body right now, even him, made her itch. She sat on the edge of the bed and buried her face into his shoulder, ignoring the way it hurt her side. “I thought I watched you die.”

He hummed in response, one arm wrapping around her to rub circles into her back. “I’m just glad I’m back.” He paused. “What… What about everyone else?”

There was no avoiding that question, she knew it was coming. She hadn't had the chance to think of how to respond to it, and now she was staring that eventuality dead in the eye. “There were casualties… less than the ambush, at least.” She paused. How the hell do I tell him?? Deep breath in, deep breath out. Ja barely smelled like himself, she noticed, just soap and that disgustingly sterile hospital scent. There was no use in sugarcoating it. Best to rip off the bandaid now. She sat up and looked him in the eye, “Alex, listen, it’s about James—”

The door chose then to slide open, interrupting her. She clamped her mouth shut. The curtain pushed aside roughly to reveal Castello, who didn’t exactly look happy.

“There you are!” The doctor made a growling noise in his throat. “You can’t just go wandering around the hospital before you’ve been discharged, Spence.”

She tilted her head, willing her almost-tears back into her eyes. “You said you were doing that, though.”

“After I made sure your test results were in the clear.”

“So… Are they?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“So it’s fine then.”

Castello frowned. “Yes, fine. I’m prescribing antibiotics and painkillers, you can get them when you leave here. Now, if you could leave me with—”

“She stays,” Ja cut him off. 

He threw his hands up in defeat before taking the stool Spence had previously occupied and rolling it to the other side of the bed. His tone leveled out, “Would you be okay telling me what you remember, starting at the battle on the Seadragon? I asked when you woke from surgery, but you were far too erratic to respond.”

“Erratic..?”

He rubbed his throat, which was currently concealed by his brown turtleneck. “You tried strangling me, and injured some of the human attendants. The other avatar in the room sedated you.”

“I…” Ja looked disturbed. “Why don’t I remember any of that?”

“Spence said something about a moss? But please, start at the beginning. It will help determine if you have any internal injuries, or head trauma.”

“I–I remember that whale thing, and pushing you,” Ja looked to Spence. “I tried getting out of the way, but it landed on me, I’m pretty sure. A lot of it is pretty blurry,” he furrowed his brows, looking down at his hands. “I woke up on the deck, I don’t know how much later, but the sun was still out. The kids were gone, and so was my gun. I could see all the lifeboats fleeing, though, so I got into the water and called out to them.” He paused again. “I don’t… I don’t know what happened. There was a girl… a reef girl, but not the one we tied up. She looked older. I think I was going to kill her? I remember trying, I think.

“Then I woke up in the village, tied up on the ground, surrounded by Na’vi. I’m guessing they were arguing about what to do with me. That girl was there.” Castello had filled a glass of water while he was talking, and now Ja reached for it. “Sully beat on me just about as much as he questioned me. I started going a little crazy. He… he threatened you, Phoebe,” he dragged his eyes back up to Spence’s, and his shoulders felt so heavy. “He got me to talk by saying he’d kill you, or worse. I would’ve killed him, but I was tied up.”

Spence took his hand in hers again. “How did you escape that one time?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. I was too far gone at that point, but I think I remember my binds feeling sloppy? Like they got careless ‘cause my leg was so fucked.”

“Is this when the moss was administered?” Castello jumped in with his biggest question.

“Yeah,” Spence answered. “He’d crawled his way to where I was tied up, and Jake and the Na’vi caught up with him there. They mentioned its name, but not what it did. I think it was called haw… something .

“Sleeping moss…” Castello rubbed his chin in thought, before his eyes suddenly widened. “How did you say it was given to him?”

“Shoved down his throat. They even made sure he swallowed it.”

“Oh, dear…” He ran his hand through his hair. “No wonder it had such an effect. Hawprrwll is typically mixed into food or ointments as a sleep aid, or a bit is placed in the mouth as a sedative, but such a high dose… Do you remember anything after that?”

Ja’s face went blank. Spence had seen that look before, on Noah after Kevin’s death, Norm after Hometree fell, herself in the mirror. He remembered something, and whatever it was, he did not want to recall it.

His ears fell and he took a slow breath. He would have tucked his tail between his legs if he could, but it lay cocooned in splints and bandages beneath his sheets, so he squeezed Spence’s hand a bit tighter instead. “I…” He started, then stopped. “I was awake for a while, on and off. Too awake. Aware, but trapped in my own body. I couldn’t open my eyes, or move, or—” His voice broke as tears threatened to fall, “I couldn’t cry out for help, even though I was so scared. I could hear everything happening around me but it—it was like I was trapped in my head. I’ve had sleep paralysis once before, but it was nothing compared to this.”

Castello was so buried in the notes he was taking that he barely noticed the way it had affected Ja emotionally. “Fascinating…” He looked up and immediately felt bad for his inconsiderate reaction. “Sorry, I didn’t—”

“It’s fine.”

“Well,” the doctor cleared his throat. “I’ll look into the hawprrwll, make sure there are no long-term effects on a dose that high. As for your leg…”

The x-ray, even to Spence’s completely untrained eyes, looked dire. Multiple breaks in what Castello called a “comminuted fracture,” whatever that meant. Something like this would take many months for a human to heal, but for a Na’vi it could be just a few weeks with the addition of human medical technology; they’d learned much about how those factors interacted over the past six months. Ja would be allowed to leave, though wheelchair-bound, by the end of the week.

Only when Dr. Castello left, did Spence realize just how familiar this scene was. She’d done this very thing, sitting on a hospital bed and waiting for her lover to wake up, six months ago. She felt a little more numb to the whole thing now than she did back when Prager was shot. Maybe she was less scared because she’d already convinced herself Ja had died… or maybe she was just desensitized by now. She didn’t want that.

Ja looked at her like a puzzle piece was missing, and Spence knew what he was going to say before he even opened his mouth. “What were you saying about Jamie?”

He said he was awake. Alex knows Prager is alive, but not which one… I can’t tell him he died. Spence swallowed dryly. She needed a lie, a small one that wouldn’t stack up into more lies that she couldn’t hold together. “He’s… fine. W—We still aren’t talking.” That wasn’t untrue. “That argument we had on the ship is still bothering him, I guess...”

He doesn’t even remember it.

Seven bodies pushed through the doors to the barracks, still in their gear and weary from the journey back to base. Most peeled off to their own rooms or the showers, but the Colonel stood in the middle of the room, surveying the faces of those she’d walked in on. The report Ripper received along with the order to return to Bridgehead was brief, but she knew enough. She locked eyes with Anderson and sneered.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the Gargoyle,” she hissed, “finally gracing us with his presence.”

He glared at her over his mask and set down the cup of coffee he’d been pouring himself so hard that the mug cracked. “And here’s the mighty Ripper, softened up from her cushy little escort assignment.” The only other people in the room were Prager and Freddie, and they could feel how much more acid coated Anderson’s words compared to when he spoke to Quaritch. “Were you just too cowardly to face the Resistance head on, or were you being selfish as usual?”

“Oh, please. We’ve seen more combat than your lot has in the week since you woke up. It should be an embarrassment, really, that half of them came back as casualties.” Her voice was cold and calm. She was toying with him.

And it worked, of course. Anderson abandoned the coffee and stomped up to her, ears pushed back and tail thrashing behind him. He made a grab for her collar to drag her down to eye level, but she intercepted and gripped his wrist, twisting it back painfully.

“Careful, Taeyang,” she said coolly. “Wouldn’t want to do anything you’d regret.”

He growled, his bared fangs invisible behind the mask. He’d love to do something he might regret, as was typically the case when he and Ripper got into it. It was absolutely deserved, but that would never occur to Anderson.

Someone behind him cleared their throat, prompting Ripper to loosen her grip on his wrist just enough for him to wrench it away. And as if he wasn’t already riled up enough, he turned to see Quaritch. Speak of the devil. He put a hand on Anderson’s chest as if to break up a fight, but instead moved him out of the way to antagonize Ripper himself.

Quaritch met her self-satisfied look with a cold scowl. “So, you finally decided to show up?”

“I would have come if I had been ordered to. That shitshow or the embarrassments that followed wouldn't have even happened had it been my team. I think you should clean up your act,” she looked between both men, “colonels.”

“If you—” Quaritch started, but Ripper cut him off.

“General Ardmore expects better, gentlemen. The three of us are here because she doesn't want to put her eggs all in one basket, but you two have set your baskets on fire.””

Anderson snorted and smacked Quaritch’s hand away. “Did you come back just to gloat?”

“Something like that.”

He decided he’d heard enough. That wasn’t the true reason Ripper squad came back, but it definitely motivated her. Whatever Ardmore had planned was clearly important enough to make sure all three colonels were on base to hear it, but for now, Anderson didn’t give a shit about it. He stalked the halls of the barracks, bumping into Arcel who cursed at him under their breath, before pushing through the back door. A shadow passed over his path and he looked up to see Ji-cheol swooping into the rookery. He ignored him, turning sharply toward the hospital. He hadn’t been in to see Kuboyama or Chloe since their return after Operation Trident… the state he’d left Kuboyama in had been gnawing away at him.

Ripper, meanwhile, went into the kitchen and took a drink from Anderson’s abandoned coffee mug; not quite cold yet, but too much sugar for her liking. She poured it out and refilled it with the last of the coffee he’d brewed, leaving it black. While she did this, she kept one eye on Arcel, who’d entered the common space just after Anderson left it. Freddie and Prager hadn’t left the room during the colonels’ little spat. If Arcel noticed Ripper when they entered the room they did not acknowledge her, and if they did, then it meant they were fine with her seeing whatever they were about to do as they stopped in front of where Freddie sat on the couch.

His ears perked up immediately as he noticed them. For someone who claimed he didn’t feel emotions in the way most people do, he was like an open book; the addition of the cat-like ears and tail only made him all the easier to read.

They spoke quietly, too low for Ripper to hear, but it was clear that few words were exchanged. Something Arcel said made Freddie jump out of his seat, standing so quickly that he bumped into them. They both paused when they remembered Prager was in the room and turned to stare at him before Arcel grabbed Freddie’s wrist and dragged him in the direction of the gym.

Ripper rolled her eyes. She never approved of Corporal Chase, but he was by far not the worst choice of partner any member of her squad had chosen. That award had to go to either Gutierrez or Amari. She scowled into the cracked mug, thinking of those last few months at Hell’s Gate. Anderson was an idiot not to realize why she hated him so much, after what he said about that girl.

Someone to her left cleared her throat. She hadn't seen her coming while she was contemplating, but Amari stood at the edge of the little kitchen as if summoned by her colonel’s thoughts.

“Amari,” Ripper greeted her with a slightly friendly, but mostly neutral, tone.

“Colonel,” Amari replied. If not for other people in the room, she wouldn't have needed such formalities. She looked nervous, even excited. “Are we dismissed for the day, or is there anything else needed of us today?”