Alex sighed deeply through the undertone of quiet, near outrage in Ri’nela’s voice as the Sarentu processed the new orders given which… Alex had been the primary person in contact with Dr Spellman and in turn, Jake Sully.
Ri’nela hadn’t been around much and Alex had taken over the human-side of things whilst So’lek handled the clan interactions without them, especially whilst Ri’nela was tending to Tamtey in Hometree for the last week or so with the Aranahe. He hadn’t kept too in touch with her progress aside from fluctuating reports he heard when passing Teylan talking on the radio. Tamtey was now eating and drinking but sleep was a luxury and there were a lot of mood swings, hallucination and word of red paint being tossed about and colouring everyone involved when sedation was forced for Tamtey’s sake, for a dreamless sleep. Something.
But things had to move on, even with the Sarentu’s absence here.
“I know, but Dr Spellman was very clear on what Jake said.” Alex tried softly.
“Why? You’re people are important here.”
That, Alex did give a side-eye to the young woman. “We were useful here, not important, it’s very different. We, mostly you Sarentu, helped you build bridges with the clans here. You also uses our technology which is more helpful than us. Jake considers it too risky to stay here anymore and now that we’ve done our job, we’re to move out.”
“Is it because of Tamtey? She’s getting better. She won’t hurt anyone.”
Alex honestly did believe that but the idea of being in the same room with someone who personally cut one of their members throat out was more anxiety-inducing than the woman who was present during a massacre. Before, Tamtey taking out RDA, had been a welcome thing; freeing the lands from pollution and enabling them to reclaim the goods and even reusing a few of their defectors. But the lines between RDA and defector was… something he didn’t think was so thin. That their loyalty was what stopped them from getting gutted. It had felt abstract before Alma’s death. Now, he was worried what would happen once the fighting was over. Once they were no longer useful. What stopped these people from killing them?
Honestly, it scared him to know… nothing. The Kame’tire and Sarentu could kill them all and quickly too. Their numbers were smaller now after the bombing. The Sarentu knew their technology so their tech left behind would be taken and used. They were, by all account, redundant. He had sent Dr Spellman all their reports and clan cohesion and the human side of things. The bridges were built, there was no need of their ‘support’ so, for their safety now at the very least; it was time to go.
“I will point out, Ri’nela, two of your people have killed the same woman, twice.” He started with an annoyed look. “Dr Spellman, and Jake, for that matter has decided that for our safety, we’re to leave the Western Frontier. Our work here is done, so our absence will not change how things between the clans runs. You can keep the cave and… a good portion of our tech, I suppose. We will be taking some of the more sensitive data with us, so RDA don’t compromise the Resistance in the East should something happen this end. Jake was very specific on that.” The Sarentu didn’t need to know the Eastern side of things, and they’d make sure Ri’nela only has what she truly needed.
Which was a reminder, they needed to start collapsing down the field labs and withdraw them and put them into storage. Did they have a big enough cave? Each had to get their monitors back and they had a lot of shacks. Fifty-four of them. Some they needed to take with them, until they could find a new settlement before the call to return to High Camp.
So far, Jake had ordered them to go to a forest past The Spires of the Clouded forest, a stretch of Tiega like forests that wasn’t home to any clans and no RDA spots. For now, it was a place to stay whilst they contemplated their next course of action and secure everyone. Anqa had already taken a surveyor team to the coordinates this morning, since it was new, to see where they could be housed and what they’d need to renovate the area fit for humans. She’ll reach the site in about five more hours and they’d open up the line to talk options.
“Tamtey… made a mistake.” Ri’nela said, though she looked more panicked at the prospect of them leaving than he expected. “I don’t condone her actions either but to leave because of her?”
“It’s not just because of her. We’re redundant now, the clans are reunited, the RDA are coming and dying. We’re no longer of use here.” Alex argued out loud these thoughts. “You will no longer have to lead the resistance. You can lead your people without humans. Just as Nor wanted.”
Ri’nela’s eyes twitched. “That part was unnecessary, Alex.”
“I’m still salty about Alma’s murder. We can all agree the avatar was fair game but what happened after, no so much.” He turned his back, sparing his desk a look. God, he was a messy man. He had so much he had to organise. Organise, and burn what papers he didn’t need; that’d free up space. Where did he put his journal?
Tamtey hadn’t finished locating those data nodes… oh well. An acceptable loss, even if it made him sad to think about. His own stupid fault really. Never use a napkin to hold important coordinates.
“<Once Anqa makes contact, we’ll be sending more people out. Kady’s been learning how to pilot so she’ll help about here in moving the field labs and equipment. So, do you want to keep this base, with the human-atmosphere or should we disable it and take it with us?” Alex asked, since it seemed pretty important to know. Maybe let Eywa reclaim this small cave system? Maybe just make it Na’vi air-safe? There were a lot of options.
Ri’nela stared for the longest of moments, then just… walked off briskly, a few seconds later, the sound of the airlock.
Alex stared and sighed.
“We should keep the base with the human atmosphere.” Her head turned to Priya who was peeking out from between two shelves. “If the RDA have defectors that made it out on this side of the world, this is a safe-space for them until we can pick them up. I can still run that myself.”
Alex’s tilted his head, considering that. “Not a bad idea. I’ll make a note of that. Can you rig something up for Teylan? I know he listens in on Comms, he could take over if he really wants to. He’ll get to play with human tech and help about.”
“I’m gonna miss them.” Priya sighed. “But at least we’ll get to enjoy some new samples.”
Alex grinned a little at the reminder. A new place, new biome and new things to study, at the very least. He could look forwards to that.
-
Alma stared up vacantly up at the ceiling. A part of her wishing to fall asleep but another part of her brain was wide awake as she contemplated her next move. Tomorrow, her stiches would be removed… and she was now all out of safe painkillers. She had two more days of safe antibiotics and anti-inflammatory.
It was gonna suck… but at least it wasn’t hurt as much as it did when the bots sewed her up and shoved that stent down her throat. But the bots had their use to get her a scan to assess her throat stability so she could take the brace off and see how well she was able to swallow so she’s be able to eat her soups directly than from a tube.
They’d also estimate when the stent would have to be removed. From what she idly knew, it was between one to three months so if she would be lucky, she have it taken out between two weeks, and another ten weeks. Again, would suck but honestly at this point, why not? It just meant she’d have to keep the bots going until then.
But, with her food sorted, her water sorted, she still needed a plan. She couldn’t spend the rest of her life inside TAP Con-1, waiting for Tamtey to venture here, just in case she wandered back to the Circle of songs and didn’t find her mask or cloth remnants in the fog.
Her solution wasn’t going to be dropping out of the sky so, she had to strategies with what time she had. High camp, most viable option. Con of that, no piloting skills and she’d have to check the fuel in the Samsons to see if they had enough to get her to the Omatikaya forest where she could signal Norm and get rescued. If there wasn’t enough fuel, she’d need to rethink her options.
Maybe… she could venture to a field lab? Her mind flickered to the possible closest ones she could feasibly get to. Resting Tree Lab. She’d have to bypass Den of solitude with hope and prayers to get there. Not only would a field lab have more food, in date medical supplies but also the means she could use to contact Norm behind the Resistance’s back.
Was it worth the trip?
The thought of leaving TAP Con-1 and the Yavä was… terrifying. She wasn’t safe outside. Wasn’t safe with any of the clans.
Alma grimaced to herself, pushing herself up stiffly with a groan. Sleep wasn’t coming any time soon so… maybe she finds something to do? The extra tiredness tomorrow may work in her favor. Nap the pain off or some shit?
She wiggled off the edge of her bed and her bare feet touched the cold surface of the lab floor before she reached for the boots and shoved her feet in, though didn’t bother lacing them and shuffled towards her desk and, the new monitor. More tech acquired and salvageable. She had taken photographs more recently, mostly to personally document her lone-survival out here. If she died here, at least then they could have seen she had tried to live if the resistance ever came in to raid this place and find her bones. But also, she wanted to see how it healed as well; she could barely see it normally so all she had was the photographs on the reel, even though she hadn’t yet fully seen how bad it had been.
Sleeping was uneasy, Insomnia was creeping in and the pain didn’t help. Maybe doing something would help? Maybe she needed to try and talk, see if she could truly talk of if her voice box was fucked or not. Test her luck a day early?
Alma slowly sank down with a wince as the brace dug into her collar bone. God, she hated this thing. Of ceruse, she had been reading ahead; she’d not be allow to stretch or lean her head too far back, so she’d need to probably keep a support to the back of her neck at the very least. Maybe there was a softer neck brace for the next few weeks? Soft was probably good, so she could put a mask on.
Her fingers touched the mouse, the computer opening without her passcode, since she didn’t set on. Why bother? Nothing on here was truly important. Nothing worth protecting.
Alma reached up and adjusted the camera stand, before she made sure it was connected before she turned it on. She winced as she looked at the screen. Not the best but… god, even on the feed she looked like shit.
Dark circles under her eyes, her skin definitely was peaky and the brace looked massive around her neck. Her lips looked dry and the feeding tube didn’t help make her look in better health.
Her hair… definitely looked poor. She needed a wash but she had no product to tend to it out here, the only grace she had was the fact Alma had washed through her hair was a few days before her murder attempt which was why it wasn’t shitter than it already was. Without care or products, her hair would start to revert back lot more and she’ll be left with her natural 4B coils that’d come in once out of the braids. She did not have the neck strength to handle rebraiding it so… she’ll be going natural as possible. Leaving it was not an option, otherwise she’d damage her hair and scalp.
Alma tilted her head, her hand coming to her braids, feeling them properly now she could see it. There had only been a small fraction of folks that were black in TAP here. There was a chance she could find anything they left, even thirty years out of date. It had to work, right? The scientist side of her baulked at the idea. Chemicals and seals broke down after time, changing the formula. So she’s risk chemical burns and infections trying to use it. How annoying.
A wash through would have to do. She’d need to look over plan options for alternatives in nature she could, theoretically get for herself. Food wasn’t edible, but there were a good number of plants that were safe to touch. Safe to use.
Or simply, she could just shave her head and let it be a future her problem when it grew out? Seemed… symbolic? Now hair, new place in life… it had been decades since she had changed her hair after all. Maybe a fresh start was the way?
The chair she had taken was for a taller person, so it had a longer back to it, so she was able to move forwards and leant back against it before she slowly reached up and carefully pulled away the Velcro, then slowly removed the front part of it. The back was staying though it only had a single piece of dressing over the top since she had been out wandering and didn’t want any dirty getting in. If she stayed inside her room, she wouldn’t have to bother. The stiches did need time to breath.
This was the first time she was seeing the thing properly. Her mouth dried a little as she look in the row of stiches two inches below her jaw. A cut line wasn’t straight across, but started low and went more diagonally up, tapering up to a shallower cut towards the edge of her jaw; missing both carotid arties in the process. Still, it looked bad. But, she was grateful to have put in the effort to wiggle last second. Saved her own damn life. This was going to scar for life. Her head tilted, though there was little pain, she felt a rush of relief to turn her head a little. Every time.
Alma allowed herself to sigh loudly, feeling how it felt as the air pushed past the ache in her throat and into the air. Sore… but manageable. Huh, two weeks of vocal rest really must have been in her favour.
“It.. it...” the words pushed through her vocal cords, though there was strain… her voice came out incredibly hoarse. Still, she pushed on after a moment. “It… had been.. nearly two weeks…” She started slowly, trying to listen how she sounded. So weak. But… she could speak. She hadn’t lost her voice. Tamtey hadn’t stolen that.
It had worried her. A paralysed vocal box would be more obvious if she was drinking normally; she’d be more prone to drinking and swallowing issues as the cords moved and responded with her. Since she was still on the tube diet, she had no way to know for sure. As long as she didn’t overdo it, it was fine.
“Two weeks… since Tamtey tried to kill me.” She finished, “… I haven’t… be able to get a monitor like this till recent salvaging of this base… and I was not healed enough. Tomorrow, the stiches come out. Gonna suck…” Alma licked her lips, almost glowering at the screen in what tomorrow was gonna bring. “No pain meds. But… will hurt less than when they put them in the first time. Not actively dying this time around.”
Her fingers traced one of the stiches. “After that… things should get better, medically speaking. I have enough food for a few months. Water is going so I have fresh, safe water to drink and clean but I may start to hoard the water in barrels in case the water systems… fail.. Nice to have that. I… should be able to be more fit to explore the Yavä… maybe find safer flora or sneak to one of the field labs and steal some shit. I can’t… I can’t go back. Not to the Resistance. They might just finish the job or… she gets to me first again.” She swallowed, wincing but it wasn’t lingering pain, passing only. Good. “I don’t know what excuse Tamtey told them if they noticed I went missing and why wouldn’t they believe her? I’m the bad guy, after all…” she hated how her eyes prickled a little. God, she hated that.
The Resistance really would believe Tamtey. Take her side and condone this. Hell, her paranoia about sleeping around the others was not without reason. Some would be happy to hear her death. She just… knew they would think Tamtey killing her had a good reason. That it was deserved and… Tamtey would get away with it. She didn’t… quite remember what had happened too much after but she knew her brain was blocking that for now. She was not in a safe space to process that.
“I can… not walk out on foot. I need to bring food with me. The-the RDA left Samsons. I could try and learn and fly back to the East but… I don’t think there’s enough fuel even if I… could manual my way into the air.” She frowned lightly. “I... don’t know what to do. I can wait until I’ve healed to think more on that. I have that time…”
Her hand dropped from her throat before she tapped the end of the log, letting it save before she relaxed back, gently shifted her head about stretch the tendons. God, those felt weak. Probably were so... she had to be careful. Definitely needed to get the fabric neck brace once this plastic one was done. It’s give her support but allow her to regain neck strength without too much pressure or force.
A good start.
What was tomorrows plan after the procedure? Alma fit the front of the brace on again, not risking fate right now as she sat up away from her chair. Water pull, maybe. Clean some large barrels out and save the water as she suggested. That wouldn’t take too long really.
Her eyes skirted about her room. Her gurney on the floor, her stockpile of food, her avatar case beside her desk… there was a lot of white space now with the walls cleaned.
Walls?
Alma straightened up, her eyes widening as an idea hit. She could paint her walls! Though it wasn’t well known outside of her personal life or those who had seen her sketch but Alma was… kinda good. She could paint murals around her space. Make this place feel less like a prison or a refuge. Somewhere that… felt nice.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
What if Tamtey thought, some time after Nor's body was found, if thing were better if Alma was dead? Another Sarentu lost needlessly, that justice could be delivered if she wielded that blade against her throat, to end a story in the place where her people died. What if... despite that, Alma survived?
How would Alma survive with what was done to her? How could she return through the fog?
Chapter 5 Snippet
“Is it because of Tamtey? She’s getting better. She won’t hurt anyone.”
Alex honestly did believe that but the idea of being in the same room with someone who personally cut one of their members throat out was more anxiety-inducing than the woman who was present during a massacre. Before, Tamtey taking out RDA, had been a welcome thing; freeing the lands from pollution and enabling them to reclaim the goods and even reusing a few of their defectors. But the lines between RDA and defector was… something he didn’t think was so thin. That their loyalty was what stopped them from getting gutted. It had felt abstract before Alma’s death. Now, he was worried what would happen once the fighting was over. Once they were no longer useful. What stopped these people from killing them?
Honestly, it scared him to know… nothing. The Kame’tire and Sarentu could kill them all and quickly too. Their numbers were smaller now after the bombing. The Sarentu knew their technology so their tech left behind would be taken and used. They were, by all account, redundant. He had sent Dr Spellman all their reports and clan cohesion and the human side of things. The bridges were built, there was no need of their ‘support’ so, for their safety now at the very least; it was time to go.
As you know I’m writing Avatar AU where the other sky-people came to Pandora. And that’s translated part of it, because I’m not writing in English! So for the contexts, aliens are trying to force people to surrender, and they respond for it in a way we all expect.
Long live Emperor Erarichi! My name is Admiral Starich Menneske, and I am commander of the Ristol Empire's forces, part of the 13th Expeditionary Fleet. As such, I represent the crown and am responsible for the Imperial Armed Forces' operations in this region of space. I wish to thank our new friends from Earth in advance, who, unlike you, respect intergalactic law. We, as a civilized nation, will enforce it. Several skirmishes with you have shown us that in combat you are at least our equals. However, interstellar law clearly states: "Whom fights with the weapon, accepts death by it." We may use the same, or similar, weapons to those you used against the peaceful Na'vi nation! However, we will give you a chance, which I am sure you understand. Surrender or fight and die!
I don't give a damn who you are. I'm Colonel Miles Quadrich, and I'm telling you, you can kiss this awful, ugly blue ass, they've put me in. We won't surrender, humanity won't be your next footstool. If you want to fight, we're welcoming with open armies! Quadrich out. P.S. That pseudo-saint of yours in the picture looks like a retarded gecko that came out of a can of blue paint.
Av’ah found it was weird to feel responsible for this group of traders whilst waiting for the others to back, moving smoothly to pass along salves and watching as some of the younger traders tend to the deep cuts and scrapes of their elders or parents. Though they were polite and open, Av’ah could feel that… they were incredibly weary of her. No mistake, she felt that that a majority of them were grateful to be alive but… some of them had witness them butcher their attackers far too quickly.
It felt kinda fair so it was unwise to linger around too long.
The bodies of the Mangkwan had given her something to do and they made a great corpse pile away from everyone and just left them for nature to reclaim. She kept Varang’s bones since… well she didn’t have a good enough reason but for a bone tally back at camp. They were able to recover the bodies of the traders and they had dug out funeral shrouds and had wrapped them and started a vigil with strong incense, which would keep the wildlife away from their bodies which for Av’ah’s nose was enough to dry up her thirst with how it masked the scent of blood.
One of the traders, Netxek who seemed to take control for their clan’s sake as they had found the body of their gondola captain among the wreckage and issuing out orders to her people to gather order and hope. He was tall, thin and highly decorated with trinkets, jewellery and beads.
Av’ah heard his approach as she shifted some rubble to gain access to one of the tricky spots for the last of the salvable goods now that the fire had been put out. Av’ah paused, her head turning towards him and pausing to give him her full attention.
“<Me and my people thank you for your group’s aid, stranger.>” he started with. “<We can offer your some of our goods for you and your clan as thanks to aiding us out of certain death and mutilation.>”
Av’ah smiled softly, “<My name is Av’ah. We are of the budding Txon’lanteyu Clan. Whilst I appreciate the offer, your people are in more need for supplies and trade than we.>” She declined. “<We were simply passing through when we heard the chaos and could not allow such brutality to pass when we could do something to stop it>”
Netxek nodded solemnly. “<Is there anything we can offer?>”
“<I am not the right person of my group to ask. Tazak may make a request upon his return.>” Av’ah said, “<What is the plan now? I don’t believe we’ll be staying for much longer. Will you be safe before your people’s return?>”
“<You know they will come back?>” Netxek’s head tilted a fraction.
“<Our clan leader rode with a Windtrader caravan group as an outsider up until she was shot out of the sky during a raid. She later mated to one who joined their growing clan>” Av’ah pointed out to put him at ease. He was worried word would spread to other raiders for a second round of attacks.
The Na’vi relaxed a little. “<We should be safe, the smoke will ward away predators as will our incense. We will be taken into our other gondolas but our people will be buried away from this site to the roots of chosen trees. What of you and your people?>
“<We plan to return back to the Western Frontier. The heart of our people reside in the borderlands between the Heart of the Plains and the Spires of the Clouded forest.>”
Netxek’s eyes widened in surprise. “<But that is so far away?!>”
“<It is home.>” Av’ah smiled fondly. “<Tazak will come back with your stolen people. There may be a chance he rescues more of them from previous raids. Do you have means to cater to more numbers?>”
Netxek’s lips pursed, sparing a look to the people behind them. “<Do not have them brought here, our people will not take well to people looking like Mangkwan so soon after the attack. They will need to wash and be cleaned of the ash before we can open discussion on the matter.>”
“<Very well. I’ll move a sport further north but, may we take cleanings tools and changes of clothes for them?>” There no doubt had to be a few that would come if given the option. She had no idea how many people were in that clan but if Tazak and Percy were going to rescue them, their numbers were certainly going to be thinned down naturally. Sasta did say, as long as she didn’t get involved with it, it was fine… in one sense.
“<Very well.>”
Av’ah waited before two baskets were handed over, one was a mixture of cloths, long around to wrap around a waist and what looked like sponges and small beads of low-scented beads. Soap, of sorts. Nothing too strong, but it would clean.
“<Thank you>” Av’ah bid farewell to the younger man and began to move though she passed between a few of the people resting and recovering though her step pause before she felt the heat of a touch before a hand tapped her ankle.
“<Wait, please.>”
Her attention turned down. It was the man of the waters that had been tangled up and suspense’s in the vines, looking stronger with his leg elevated and arrow stabilized in his leg for now though his eyes were much more sharp and aware. “<You are from the western side?>” He asked, his eyes flickering to the woman who was sleeping, the shaft of the arrow snapped and no longer stuck up but they hadn’t dared remove it just yet.
“<I am.>”
“<My name is Mäzan, my friend is Wena. We were of the northern Swamp islands before our exile. I must ask if you’ll take us both with you when you leave.>” He requested. “<I… I do not know if she will survive but I want her to pass to Eywa closer to where home was for us if she does.>”
Av’ah’s eyes flickered to the injured woman. The woman Tazak was interested to transform. This was not a place to reveal but… if they told them on the road, maybe they could allow it to happen? Perhaps even join? After all, they had a few exiles in their clan, herself included.
“<We can discuss the matter when the other two return.>” Av’ah promised, “<I do not see why not, but there is a lot that is going to happen soon.>”
Mäzan reluctantly nodded, closing his eyes to rest back.
-
Three hours, it took before Av’ah heard any sound of Percy and Tazak. She had taken the time to find a spot that ran beside a stream and set up the clothes hung up on the branches and put the soap along the stream in different places. Av’ah also set up some fires and managed to get some food put around and some in her pouch for a more personal touch should she need it.
She felt Tazak’s mind brush against her own before she let him in. ‘The Mangkwan have been disbanded. Survivors were left but I ordered them from the ash plains with threat of death. Hopefully, they will seek betterment.’
‘You left survivors?’
‘Those who did not attack me, idolise their Tsahìk or weren’t too into the cult-like reverence or practicing harmful behaviours. Many fled outwards anyway, these ones I was able to convince to come with me to reconnect with Eywa and the people. Most here are recent captive from the last month alone.’
Av’ah sighed deeply, but directed him towards her than to the crash site to start their reclamation processes.
Surprisingly, she heard a lot of heartbeats with the steps. Small and fluttery, infants and young but also larger ones. She counted up to fifty two hearts in total. So a lot of people. Tazak was the one leading the group but there were four of the group that weren’t even covered in ash, though they bore cuts, bruised and torn clothing, the stolen Tlalim mother had a hold of the three children and more or less vanished past them once she knew she was close to her people.
Tazak was holding onto a woman who was very heavily pregnant, almost nude if it wasn’t for what looked like a blanket, her skin coated in ash and only that, her hair shaved entirely, not even her kuru was protected. Her arms had fresh scars to show she had been bound and for a while too. Signs of abuse still lined her body. Her legs, Av’ah realised, had been forcibly crippled; Achilles tendon was cut. She couldn’t walk. Despite her situation, she was holding onto a couple month old baby that wasn’t hers. It was fast asleep against her chest and content; unaware of much outside the comfort of the woman’s warmth.
There were only seven other grown adults, twitchy and through the scent of ash, smelt like they were on something strong. Four women, three men. Fifteen of the group were between the ages of sixteen to twenty whilst the remaining twenty ages was between the couple month old baby, to about nine. The kids had mostly ash and had the most hair than the adults. The kids hovered more around the adults, seeking comfort in the familiarity of their faces. Percy was the signal that all had arrived.
“<There is a stream, please get in and wash up. There’s a change of clothes where possible once you’re done and food will be shared when you’re done.” Av’ah said, hoping to appear friendly.
The younger followed their parental guide or older teens but thankfully, they were more motivated by the idea of food to get in and start washing, cleaning away the dry ash and revealing their deeper shades of blue back into Eywa’s light. A few began to toss water at each other, taking some joy in it.
Tazak set the pregnant woman down in the bank of the river carefully. ‘She may need you, Av’ah. I am not the person to aid her clean.’
That alone seemed to signify that there was a lot of trauma that this woman had, even more than the physical abuse clearly shown in her captivity. Av’ah moved slowly around the edge of the people to her side to help, snagging a waist cloth on the way.
‘I will discuss the numbers with Netxek now.’
Percy got more involved with the adults to coax them into washing and removing some of their piercings which, were still in the healing process so removing them now would stop the wounds being fully formed or the implants being graphed into the wounds.
The woman’s eyes were a bright green, her heart was fast and frightened at her arrival though she was already leaning towards the water’s edge, eager to wash up.
“<I am Av’ah. May I help you?>” Av’ah asked.
The woman looked up to her then down at herself. “<No.>”
So, independent as she possibly could be, she could work with that. Forcibly washing her wouldn’t end well. But the woman was limited; not with her arms full with limited range of movement with her pregnant belly and cut tendons. But the notion of the woman trying to hold that baby above the water seemed like a recipe for disaster.
“<If you will not allow me to wash you, then would you at least allow me to hold that baby in your arms whist your clean so you do not risk dropping it beneath the water? I will stay with you the entire time.>” Av’ah offered at the very least.
The woman stared at her for the longest of moments, clearly debating and weighing the risks, sparing a look around to the other adults further downstream then down to the little one who wiggled and licked their lips.
“<Only if you do not move and stay in my eye line.>”
“<Of course.>” Av’ah sat down, to make a point and held her hands out to which the woman slowly moved and set the sleeping infant into her arms. Av’ah shifted, setting the little one against her chest and remained still as promised as the woman stared for a second before moving to shuffle herself slowly into the waters and began to scrub. Av’ah only shifted to move some of the sponges closer to her and gently rocked the baby. She could feel that the coolness of her body was going to wake the little one up sooner than later.
“<What is your name?>” Av’ah opted to ask.
The woman glanced up at her for a moment, ducking her head lower to rub at her face and neck until the worst of it was gone before she sat up to clean her belly. “<Ralay>” The more she cleaned, the less tense she became until finally she scooted back out of the water and held her arms out. Av’ah handed over the waist cloth first which Ralay accepted and tucked around her waist before Av’ah handed her the infant who finally stirred enough to look about but snuggled happily into their carer’s arms.
“<What is their name?>” Av’ah asked, nodding down to the babe.
“<Ìvo. She is the daughter of one of the women stolen from another clan who was killed trying to keep her after birth>” The woman said, her eyes welling a little as she spared, “<They only kept me alive to carry my child so they could have it the moment it was born. They… they planned to cut my one out since it would have been big enough to survive birth. Your people came just in time to have stopped that.>”
“<I am so sorry.>” That truly sounded awful. “<You and your child are now safe. When you deliver, you will be safe and your child will remain with you. Tazak and are discussing options of where you’ll be going. You can decide your path once the traders have come to us to talk.>”
“<What will happen?>” There was a careful note of calm, but she could smell the scent of fear; the unknown of what that meant.
“<The Windtraders can accept many. Since most of those who left are children, they will be more accepting. We can see about you and this child going with them, should you desire. One of the injured outriders have requested to come back to the Western Frontier to tend to his friend with us.>”
“<I will need time to think on that.>”
“<I’ll leave you to that.>”
Av’ah rose to her feet, letting her eyes flicker about the new faces and take in the sight. Many were done or finishing up, some dressed in their new cloths. Some were sitting alone, others kids clumped up and some already playing with the wildlife.
One kid pulled her attention the most. Maybe late teens, or early twenties. He was just sat up to his chest in the water flow, staring into the water vacantly and the ash slowly washing off him. Her still heart felt a… sense of pity. How long as he been with the clan? Was this… normal or was it the simple shock of sudden change and the loss of the people he had come to know?
“<Hello?>” Av’ah said quietly.
The kid startled, ears pinning before he looked down into the waters spewing across his form, muttering a quiet hello.
“<My name is Av’ah. What is your name?>”
The kid didn’t look up at her, jaw tightening and releasing. “<Pxak’utík>” He said after a moment.
“<Were you born into the Mangkwan or raised into the clan?>”
The kid shrugged, keeping in the waters. “<I don’t know.>”
Av’ah nodded lowly. “<We can try and get you back to your people if you were stolen.>”
“<I don’t remember.>” He said louder.
Av’ah reached for one of the sponges and dipped it into the stream. “<May I?>”
Pxak’utík stiffened a fraction but nodded in defeat. Slowly, Av’ah started at his back, where the water didn’t reach, though the kid was stiff and flinched at the initial contact, she simply washed the sponge across the skin, careful of any welts and lacerations that were hidden underneath. He had a few raised patterned scars, scarification, which looked to be in the process of healing. She ringed the sponge out once and started again. Though he stiffened up again he didn’t flinch like last time. It took a few minutes until his back and shoulders were wiped down, he took the sponge to wipe his face, head and neck before she offered a hand out.
The kid accepted, looking… far younger than before. “<Thank you>” his head dipped.
Av’ah nodded. “<I appreciate that you let me. Go, there’s food you can have.>”
Percy helped hand out fruit and drinkable water, though Av’ah had to break a fight which only took a hiss to scare the two apart for them to settle and step away. Vampire hisses weren’t a joke, even if they didn’t know.
With food in bellies, people clean, the mood significantly lightened and there was light hearted talk about where they could go. Tazak returned nor was he alone as Netxek shadowed him. The trader’s eyed widened at the clump of groups though he controlled his expression, his eyes taking in the kids first before the adults. The people pulled from the clan, calm and clean and some, looked to reclaim some elements of themselves that they could from the ash.
“<Only a handful of the Mangkwan remain but scattered. I do not believe they will be able to recover to return back to a life if raiding and pillaging, especially with Varang and her supports dead.>” Tazak said quietly. “<A good portion of these people are from your clan that were downed. Others from other clans. Many will wish to return to you.>”
“<We can probably take a little over half of these people. With a gondola down, the extra weight will be immense on the others until we can rebuild a new gondola.>” Netxek said slowly.
Av’ah made her way over, her eyes turning between the two. “<Mäzan has expressed interest to join us for Wena to either recover or pass to Eywa closer to their home soils.>” She said, “<I’m not against accepting anyone willing to join us?”
Tazak’s head tilted in interest. ‘We could expand our clan?’ His mental tone was open and certainly appealed to it, despite the fact the Mangkwan element still heavily lingered. Too early to truly see the depth of possible issues that could arise.
‘Our ability to rescue them could have been a sign we can keep them safe’ Av’ah pointed out. ‘We should also take responsibility for those who cannot be accepted. We uprooted them, even if it was from a vile place. Most will struggle to adapt until they have a new place to call home.’ Actions, consequences. Their people still did that.
“<There is a rookery close by,>” Percy’s eyes slid mostly to the older teens. “<Those old enough can claim one and take their freedom independently, to travel with you to the other gondolas or go our way towards the West.>”
Av’ah and Netxek gave him a considering look. “<It will be last tonight or tomorrow morning before our people fly back on Ikrans to check the site before a gondola returns for pick-up.>”
“<We need to set up camp and wait for work of the other captains. We can talk with these people to see what they want and come up with a plan of action. If you can get an acceptable number we can get people set.>”
“<I will go hunting for meat. Many bellies will need more for dinner.>”
“<I will gather fruits and fibres and get things to be made.>” Av’ah knew enough to get the basics, even in this sort of forest.
“<Why did they not bring things with them?>” Netxek asked, “<They are only in what they were wearing.>”
“<Fires started and consumed what was there.>” Tazak said, “<I didn’t expect how quickly things welt up in flames, ironic given how much the heart of the clan loved fire.>”
“<Is there a healer that can see to one of the women.>” Av’ah asked more delicately. “<Her tendons at her ankles were cut to prevent her escaping. It looks only a few weeks old. Is there something you can do to repair or ease discomfort for this infliction?>
Netxek spared a look along the faces. “<Our healers are a little busy but we can send someone here, as long as they’re supervised.>”
“<I will stay.>” Tazak said tightly. “<I will take time to sort this out and get everyone sorted.>”
-
Evening fell, and Av’ah happily handed out food wraps to the people.
In the hours that had followed, Av’ah had harvested a good mount of fresh fruits and herbs, to start making string and rope and had returned to see that the former Mangkwan slaves were using parts of the Gondola as mats and as shelters which cut down a lot of trouble with making tents or other makeshift shelters. Large leaves were brought from close Shaded Leaf Canes to create mats and comfortable places to sit. They were massive, often used for breaking Na’vi falls when needed to.
This eased up a lot of the rescued and Av’ah could see them started to talk more and joke around, despite having very little. Her arrival certainly was welcome, handing off most of the fibres to the adults, two of which were former weavers and spinners who were more happy to get back to their craft, muttering more about not having the right tools but with a stick and a weighed stone that was bound together crudely, it did the job with a few tweaks and they got on to crafting.
Percy had come back slinging three yerik, which was subsequently butchered and the resourced split out and shared. One yerik went to the traders, who certainly appreciated the meat and fresh food whilst they waited and in turn, gave them the means to process and preserve the hide to something useful.
Her food was cleaned and handed out, medical herbs went to Tazak to prepare them for basic salves and painkillers. But the evening meal seemed to certainly hit the spot. Kids, now with makeshift toys ran about their camp and honestly, it was something worth seeing; that they had light in their heart. The Mangkwan did not snuff everything out. Children were the easiest to please with the food, watching as they tried new foods for the first time and enjoy.
“<Who will be standing watch?>” Zenew, one of the men who looked about late twenties, examine his makeshift spear with some hesitancy, putting his rock down.
“<I plan to run the first one. Av’ah the second round.>” Percy said, his tail swishing as he looked about. “<Most animals shouldn’t bother us, not with the scents in the air.>”
“<What if people wish to leave?>”
“<The children, we do plan to keep here for their own safety in the wilds of Pandora. Any adult can freely go, as long as they understand what that choice and the risks means for them.>”
Zenew stared for the longest of moments, then spared a look to one of the children, a five year old boy gnawing on a bone. “<I will take an Ikran and start off your way but I will take my nephew and go to another clan along the way.>”
“<We passed two clans along or near the coast on our route this way. Rey'tanu Clan in the high lands and the Ni'awve clan.>” Av’ah said, something Tazak had pointed out during the flight to start with so she knew for future reference.
Zenew simply nodded.
-
The three of them stayed up as everyone settled for the night.
Av’ah continued simply crafting as they slept and the hours ticked on, mostly weaving together strings that she had woven onto a fabric head band. The next-best solution Av’ah could think of that’s feel familiar. The strands were manoeuvrable of that of hair, just thicker but would serve the same purpose. She could not have to start at the base of the kuru, as that wasn’t a natural start and could damage the skin and base, so the headband would help.
Sleep did not come easy for everyone. Many people woke up, looked around before lying back down. Their hearts easy to follow which told them enough. The Tlalim further away were also waking up sharply in terror, reliving the horrors of their day before they woke up. Ralay woke up a few times, mostly to tend to the baby, which Av’ah helped in terms of her change and clean down and Ralay was lactating early so she kept the baby fed.
“<Are you okay?>” Av’ah opted to ask Percy as she joined him, running her three fingers, which she had gotten used to now in the rush of… everything. But now, she found herself just… looking down at herself.
She felt so…. Messy. No paint yet as the paints, like clothes, didn’t jump forms. Her face felt a little bare. But that was easy to deal with. Percy and Tazak hadn’t spoken to her, not even in her mind, about what they had done.
She didn’t think it would be pleasant, killing no doubt so many people. But they had not spoken or addressed it.
“<Yes.>”
“<Do you want to talk about what happed in the Ash Plains?>”
“<There’s nothing to say.>” Percy said, lips pursing. “<I know… you’re worried how our spirits will handle our actions but… I feel no guilt for what I did there.>”
“<I do not expect guilt.>” She really didn’t. “<You and Tazak are bright. In my time with the clan, you have never taken light of Na’vi death.>” They could even feed without killing their prey! Which was not something she hadn’t accomplished yet. “<it must have been bad.>”
“<What I saw broke my stone heart.>” Percy’s head dipped. “<they… hurt so many people simply for their food and supplies. The people they killed… their kidnapped victims. What they did to some of them to brainwash them into their cult…. It was horrific. Killing them was easy. The kidnapped ones that were too far gone were hardest. I tried to get through to them, but I saw the state of their minds and what they were reduced to. Varang was a monster. We could not fix them all, only those willing. All we could do was seed fear against restarting a clan of that nature, even we couldn’t reconnect them to want to seek our connections with Eywa>” His hand came to his chest. “<Death was necessary. This… evil was necessary for long-term relief for the clans. I do not regret freeing all these people and our world.>”
Av’ah sighed for the emotional huff, her hand touching his. “<Go connect to Eywa when possible. That will ease the sights you have seen today.>”
Percy nodded, though his hand caught her wrist before he peered at her hand. ‘No one has noticed my hands too much to comment on it. I will need this gift soon.’ He thought to her.
Av’ah spared a look around. The bodies around were sleeping, aside from Wena who was sipping water with the help of Tazak. Not many eyes to see… very well. ‘Now, while it is quiet and people are asleep.’
Percy perked up a little.
Av’ah shifted and closed the distance, posing herself to make it look like a hug, which her clan mate seemed to understand before she buried her fangs into his shoulder to take a drag. Yet, the Na’vi teeth felt far more foreign in this teeth than the Dreamwalker, a reminder of how different the two forms were, even now. Dreamwalker teeth, at least hers, as a lot blunter teeth than Na’vi. She pulled back after a moment, watching the wounds heal up and the blue droplets rescind back beneath his Dreamwalker skin, wrinkling her nose as she felt his teeth next at her collar but… he pulled back after a moment and sighed out.
‘Take your clothes off before you shift otherwise you are nude.’ Av’ah remained, ‘and your kuru will need to be rebraided. Paints can happen later.’
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
What if Alma had been exiled by the Resistance when her truth came into light? No home, her reputation tarnished, shamed and no avatar, what does that mean for her?
Not to mention, there is something else that's been living on Pandora. Something different that shouldn't be there and is growing the shade of Pandora's light.
Chapter 23 snippet
Av’ah paused, her head turning towards him and pausing to give him her full attention.
“<Me and my people thank you for your group’s aid, stranger.>” he started with. “<We can offer your some of our goods for you and your clan as thanks to aiding us out of certain death and mutilation.>”
Av’ah smiled softly, “<My name is Av’ah. We are of the budding Txon’lanteyu Clan. Whilst I appreciate the offer, your people are in more need for supplies and trade than we.>” She declined. “<We were simply passing through when we heard the chaos and could not allow such brutality to pass when we could do something to stop it>”
Netxek nodded solemnly. “<Is there anything we can offer?>”
“<I am not the right person of my group to ask. Tazak may make a request upon his return.>” Av’ah said, “<What is the plan now? I don’t believe we’ll be staying for much longer. Will you be safe before your people’s return?>”
“<You know they will come back?>” Netxek’s head tilted a fraction.
“<Our clan leader rode with a Windtrader caravan group as an outsider up until she was shot out of the sky during a raid. She later mated to one who joined their growing clan>” Av’ah pointed out to put him at ease. He was worried word would spread to other raiders for a second round of attacks. The Na’vi relaxed a little.
- Gwi-ma started the TAP program as an initiative to create na’vi soldiers
- He created the Saja Boys as a prototype super-avatar, but they went feral and so Gwi-ma had to find someone smarter to carry out his vision.
- Morally Dubious Celine was a xenobiologist, her aim being to contribute a means of making super-avatars by mixing native dna, human driver dna, and the dna of animals collected for the ferals program. She would be the one to save the na’vi children when gwi-ma terminated the program.
- Mi-yeong was recruited as the program’s face since she genuinely believed in The Ambassador Program. She was meant to be the primary interface between the na’vi children and the humans. Unfortunately, she died under mysterious circumstances shortly before the program could come to fruition, leaving her experimental Avatar immature and without a driver.
- Rumi (ryu mi) was meant to be Mi-Yeong’s avatar, but was pulled from her growth chamber when her driver died. Not yet lobotomized for use as an Avatar, Celine took the young experiment-child as her ward, as she had shown the most promising results so far in their super-avatar initiative. Her genes were mixed with a thanator, giving her sensory quills, incredibly efficient musculature, and immunity to na’vi sense. She was put in the TAP program in her adolescence with mira and zoey after speaking out against gwi-ma on their behalf.
- Bobby was onboarded as Celine’s assistant and the primary interface with the na’vi children. He overlooked their care and did whatever he could to help make them comfortable.
- Mira and Zoey were taken from the ashes of the Sarentu clan. After her elder brother’s death in a hunting incident, the clan leader and tsahik’s daughter Mira was named olo’eytke.
- Zoey was born of a forest na’vi avatar and an ocean na’vi native. She was reluctantly accepted into the Sarentu, her native parent’s clan, after her avatar parent abandoned the body for unknown reasons.
