AU where Ronal didn’t die on those rocks but instead passed out because y’know? Blood loss, stress overall pain and y’know- being shot but nonetheless survived and afterwards was found and taken by the RDA and then over a few years of who knows what becomes a soldier &/or medic/healer for them, maybe a bit of both? I think that’ll be interesting enough and I’ll prob write a one shot of it eventually lol
Spider sat by himself inside the Scorpion for a long time, thinking over his options. A large part of him screamed to ditch the tracker and make a run for it just as Quaritch had warned him not to do. His leg bounced anxiously as he considered it. But there was no way he wouldn’t be caught if he tried that now. There was no way out of this godforsaken city unless it was by air. He’d seen the two mile wide deadzone from above and knew he had no chance of crossing the stretch of barren earth on foot without being swept up like prey.
He didn’t lack the guts. He lacked the stupidity.
His best bet was to try and sneak onto an aircraft that was headed out, and escape undetected when they landed. By the time Quaritch realised what had happened, Spider could be long gone.
But if he was discovered…
He could fight the soldiers as best he could; all he needed to do was get his hands on a weapon. He’d end it himself before they dragged him back here. He wouldn’t thank Eywa for Kiri’s blessing by allowing it to spread across all of humanity.
He couldn't.
Read on AO3
His butt was aching from sitting on the metal floor, and his legs were stiff as rocks. He clambered up and took a look round the gunship out of curiosity. Whoever had last used it had cleared it out. At first glance there was nothing for Spider to entertain himself with. The cockpit was locked, as was the bulkhead. He pulled out the large containers that were stored under the middle bench. Inside revealed life jackets, extra masks and basic survival kits. Food rations in silver foil, water, chemlights, a locator beacon, a basic first aid kit (sadly no needles or scalpels), a small box of extra ammo and a device Spider had no idea about but presumed was some kind of sound cannon to ward off wildlife.
Nothing that Spider could really use. At least, not to escape with. Sighing, he decided he may as well scout around nearby and see if he had more luck. Hopping lightly out of the gallery onto the tarmac, he looked around. There was another gunship a few yards away which yielded the same scant results. Maybe he could find a storage unit that was open, but that would mean re-entering the ash camp. Taking a deep breath and telling himself to get a grip, he slowly walked past the first tent demarking their territory. A couple of ikran painted with bold red and black stripes were perched on top of a much larger Dragon gunship.
If only I had an ikran.
“Air Breather!” a warrior with no hair and black paint across his scalp jeered as Spider passed.
“Butt head!” Spider called back.
The warrior hissed but made no further move, the AR slung over his back jostling as he turned back to mumble something to his friend.
Spider ignored them and scanned the camp for where they kept the weapons. It didn’t take him long to spot the large storage container with both doors wide open, displaying rows and rows of ARs, RPGs and Flamethrowers. Three ash warriors were sitting on ammo containers in front of the entrance, guarding their new prized possessions.
“Spider!”
Quaritch had emerged from Varang’s tent, strolling over to him. “You need anything?”
Spider couldn’t tell if it was a loaded question or not.
“You to drop dead,” he muttered.
“Cut it out!” Quaritch snapped, tail swishing in irritation. He stared down at Spider. “I have a resupply mission at 17.00. The Mangkwan need more ammo.”
“Okay…?” Spider didn’t bother to voice the question of why they needed even more.
Quaritch paused, looking Spider over. “Fancy a ride?”
Spider had to check he’d heard properly. “You mean… Go out? With you?”
Quaritch nodded.
“On Cupcake?”
“Unless you got another banshee lying around. The clan lives about 90 clicks north of here.”
Spider didn’t believe it. “Why?” he accused.
“Frankly, I don't trust you loose without me. So it’s come with me or go back to the cell.”
He considered it. It didn’t seem like a trap.
It seemed like Quaritch was being considerate.
But Spider knew better than to trust that. “Fine.”
This could be Spider’s opportunity. A resupply mission meant ample opportunity to steal a loaded weapon. If he could make his move while they were enroute or arriving at the ash clan…
Spider scowled. A light growl escaped. But he couldn’t exactly deny it.
“You so much as look too long at those weapons, I’ll haul you back here and it’s back to the lab you go.”
Spider raised his eyebrows. “You ever gonna get sick of holding that one over me?”
Sniffing, Quaritch looked completely unperturbed. “You ever gonna get sick of plotting?”
They stood off against each other, Spider glowering while Quaritch just looked patronising. Each equally as stubborn.
“Whatever,” Spider finally relented.
Quaritch jerked his chin. “Come on,” he said, turning on his heel and leading them over to the back end of the makeshift camp, the area closest to the huge landing strip that the Dragon gunships used to take off and land. Previously hidden from view by the yurts and sprawling infrastructure, Spider hadn’t realised how many of the Mangkwan ikrans were using it as a roost. Barely any humans were within a hundred yards of it, and those that had to be hurried across it as quickly as they could, clearly terrified of being eaten. Spider smirked.
Idiots.
Quaritch stopped and turned to Spider. “You wanna help?”
Spider pushed his mouth up, considering. Hell no, was probably the right response, but he was bored sick and he couldn’t just sit on his ass. “How am I gonna help if I can’t even ‘look too long’ at weapons?” He coated each word in sarcasm.
“Smart guy,” Quaritch quipped. “The banshees need harnesses fitting.” Nearby lay a delivery trailer which sure enough was carrying what looked like twenty or so military grade ikran harnesses. “Think you can handle that?”
“How the hell did you get all these made?” Spider was impressed, underneath his horror. “And why can’t they fit their own ikrans?”
Quaritch scrunched his nose impatiently. “You want a job or not?”
Spider looked between Quaritch, the ikran, and the rest of the camp. He wanted to refuse. He didn’t want to help. To participate in this.
But it was clear that it was getting done regardless of whether Spider objected or not. Cursing under his breath, he pushed away from Quaritch and wandered over to the harness, throwing the heavy material over his shoulder as he approached one of the larger ikran nearby.
Spider’s toes curled into the tarmac as Quaritch watched him with a satisfied expression.
“Tam tam, ma tsmukan.”
Spider ignored Quaritch, approaching the animal calmly while avoiding eye contact. He gently reached out and patted its smooth neck. “Sìltsan.”
Slowly, the ikran lowered his head, deciding that Spider was no threat. Spider held up the harness to its eye, showing it the rubber and polymer design. The beast paid it no heed and it was easy to slide over its head down onto its back. Spider stepped back in case the large male decided he didn’t like the sensation, but he needn’t have worried. The ikran thought for a moment, then simply shivered.
“Sìltsan.” Spider found the straps that went underbelly and across the chest, fitting the harness with ease. He’d had to help the recoms all those weeks ago when they first got their mounts, so he knew the RDA harnesses as well as he knew the Na’vi ones. He still remembered his shock and disgust when Quaritch had punctured Cupcake’s wing with a tag, allowing SecOps to track her movement. Quaritch had had no idea his ikran would come when he called.
Look at you now, Spider thought, eyeing Quaritch’s red war paint and scant loincloth.
The male ikran screeched beside him, a sign he was sick of standing still. Spider tightened the last strap and patted the animal on its neck before it flew off to stretch its wings.
He watched it take off, gathering height above the concrete city against a backdrop of orange and pink clouds. It was greeted by a smaller female midair, who Spider guessed had been waiting for it.
When he turned around to collect another harness, he found not just Quaritch watching him, but Varang too. When had she come out? Spider’s vitriol died in his mouth.
Quaritch looked at Varang, and some sort of understanding passed between them. Whatever it was, Spider didn’t like it.
“We’re going to round up the troops,” Quaritch said. “You good here?”
Something about the look in Quaritch’s eye made Spider instantly regret his actions, and now that Varang was present it was much harder to forget that he had been about to help his enemy.
He frowned. “You want the rest doing? Ask your psycho followers.” He dared to address it to the pair of them. Varang surveyed him through lazy eyes, almost as if he were mud she’d stepped in. The faintest hint of a smile played at her lips, and an awful sense of foreboding filled Spider’s belly.
There was a beat where no one spoke, then Quaritch stepped forward. “Stay here. Do what I ask. Or I’ll need to put the leash on.” The last part he said quieter, almost as if he was embarrassed in front of Varang.
Spider snarled. He didn’t know exactly what the Colonel meant by that, but it was enough to inspire him back into action. Hating himself, he stormed over to the rest of the harnesses and threw another over his shoulder. He glared back at Quaritch, but he and his new girlfriend had turned away to gather the Mangkwan.
Spider listened as they delivered instructions to the clan, informing them how to count out enough ammo and secure the trunks to the ikran once they were done. Half an hour later and the ash clan had all the ammo they would need laid out neatly on tarpaulins and Spider was finishing the last harness. A huge flap of wings came out of nowhere, and the ikran Spider was fitting shrieked and flapped away, leaving a strap loose. Spider let it go, more concerned with the giant blazing red and white Nightwraith that had just landed ten feet away. It towered over him, five times larger than any ikran, and bleated a shrill cry that was indecipherable to Spider. He’d never even seen a real Nightwraith before.
“She is beautiful, isn’t she?”
Spider jumped away from the warm touch of Varang’s fingers on his shoulder. Her skin was still hot, as if she constantly burned inside.
Spider tried to play it cool despite his heart jack hammering against his ribs. He shrugged. “I think ikran are more graceful.”
“Hmm,” Varang hummed, smiling. Spider got the sense that his hatred just amused her, and the more he gave into it the more lethal she would become. Her hands trailed his collarbone, up his neck, slowly and delicately, her touch feeling like it was tainting him. Eventually her palm cupped his jaw.
He gave her what she wanted: eye contact.
She smirked. “Fierce,” she whispered. “Like fire.”
“I am nothing like you.”
“This rage,” she crooned. “It feeds the flames.”
Spider shoved her hand away from him. He stared into those eyes. His next words he spoke in English. “Fuck you.”
Varang’s lip curled, then she moved before Spider even had time to process it, grabbing his kuru and yanking his head back, eliciting a yelp which Spider quickly masked with a growl.
“I will not tolerate this,” she promised. “Shall I cut?”
With a jolt of horror, Spider realised her knife was at the base of his skull, taught against his kuru. “No!”
“Shall I?” She pulled tighter on the braid.
“No! I’m sorry,” he ground out.
Quaritch had seen what was happening and came over. “Sugar-”
“I will teach you respect,” she said, softening her grip on his hair. “I will show you the way of fire.” She released him and he stumbled back a few steps.
Burn in Hell, Spider threw at her telepathically.
“Kid’s rough around the edges, that’s a given.” Quaritch held his hand out placatingly, keeping her from changing her mind. “But he’ll come around.”
Ha.
So that’s where Quaritch was going with this whole scheme. The pieces fell into place right in front of him.
He’ll come around.
Did Quaritch actually think that? What was the Colonel envisioning here? Give him long enough and Spider would eventually assimilate? Were he and Quaritch going to join the ash clan permanently? Surely to Eywa, Quaritch knew Spider would never do that. He looked at Quaritch but before he could accuse the man of losing his last marble, one of Varang’s clan elders called out for the Mangkwan to load their ikran.
The three way standoff was interrupted by the wings of all eighteen ikran trying to find space to land near the assembled ammunition.
Spider looked straight at Quaritch. “I will never come round.”
The Colonel’s face was inscrutable.
Wind whipped Spider’s locs as a nearby ikran beat its wings angrily, but he didn’t flinch.
Varang inclined her head curiously, reaching up to stroke Quaritch’s jaw.
I didn't mean to but I've made a monster...it's been living in my cranium ever since I saw Fire and Ash and wouldn't leave me alone until I started it and here we are.
A 'what if the Sullys didn't go with Spider and the Windtraders' fic.
With:
more Worldbuilding!!!
Varang being the messed up little bitch she is!!!
Spider angst!!!
a complete change to the entire plotline of FAA because what do you mean the badass bad girl wasn't the main antagonist???
BAMF Spider Socorro
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
