Chapter Text
Petra bit back a yelp when Brown shoved her to the ground, unable to break the fall while her hands were cuffed behind her back. Slightly winded, she squirmed to sit up and counted the recombinant soldiers. Ten, including Colonel Quaritch, and they weren’t lacking in firepower. Jake and Neytiri were damn good warriors, but those odds…
Spider was shoved down next to her, scowling as Zhang took his obsidian knife. He took Petra’s next, using it to cut the strap of her bag before tossing it, along with her hard earned berries and medicinal plants, into the bushes.
“Hey!” she snapped.
“Sit here. No sudden movements,” the recom warned. Once all of the young hostages were also sporting orange cuffs, Zhang stepped back and turned to watch the forest with Mansk, Zdinarsk, and Prager, their tails swishing.
Nearby, Wainfleet connected a cord from the old AMP suit to his datapad and handed it to Quaritch. Through the translucent screen, the final minutes of the Colonel’s life began to play. The sound of Neytiri’s fierce hiss drew the attention of her children, who looked around anxiously.
“That’s Sully’s woman,” Quaritch murmured.
“She’s an animal,” Wainfleet said over his shoulder.
Lo’ak met Petra’s eyes and mouthed, “What do we do?”
Petra had no fucking idea. At this point rescue was their only hope, but she would save beating herself up about getting caught like this for another day. Petra counted the recoms again. Most were familiar, but not all of them had been kind to her back at Hell’s Gate. Even her friends had betrayed her in the end. She had to remind herself that those people were long dead.
The kids were waiting on her to do something, save for Spider, who was locked onto the datapad as Jake said, ‘Give it up, Quaritch!’
“Sully,” Quaritch growled.
Wainfleet shook his head. “That son of a bitch.”
Petra rolled her eyes and hedged her bets that she could capitalize on the distraction of the AMP footage. Dipping her head, she adjusted the angle of her chin until her exopack mask pressed against her throat comms. Lo’ak perked as dead air came through his earpiece, signalling her success.
Barely breathing, Petra whispered, “Mayday, mayday. Quaritch is back. Ten recombinants, heavy firepower. Five hostages. Gunships inbound. Do not respond.” The last thing they needed was the recom’s sensitive Na’vi ears hearing Jake ‘Traitor to the Human Race’ Sully’s voice echoing from their comms. Surprise was the only advantage they had.
'Click click.'
Lo’ak’s shoulders drooped in relief at his father’s acknowledgement, looking towards his sisters reassuringly. Kiri began mumble a prayer to Eywa, splaying her fingers through the grass.
The soft drum of raindrops started to fall from the darkening sky. Meanwhile, curiosity got the better of Petra. She craned her neck to watch the datapad as Jake said, ‘It’s all over.’
‘Nothin’s over while I’m breathin’.’
‘I’d kinda hoped you’d say that.’
Petra felt someone flinch beside her as a young Toruk Makto launched himself towards the AMP’s camera, teeth bared. She shifted and nudged Spider with her elbow. “Hey. You okay?” she asked softly.
Spider’s throat bobbed. “Mhm.”
“It’s alright if you’re not.”
“Is that really my dad?”
“No,” she said, quiet but firm. “That’s just some thing the RDA grew in a lab.”
Spider didn’t look away from the recording until Neytiri fired a second arrow into his father’s chest. The boy’s pale brows were knit into a frown as he stared down at his lap, ignoring the cool rain and Petra’s worried expression.
“Yeah, there’s nothing after that,” she heard Wainfleet mumble.
Petra shifted onto her knees until she faced them. Her lips parted, primed to say something her mind hadn’t worked through yet, but the expression on the Colonel’s face stalled her. He appeared… troubled. The droop of his pointy ears betrayed as many emotions as his somber eyes as he looked down. She supposed she couldn’t blame him; watching yourself die in such a violent manner would bother anyone, even if he’d deserved it.
“You want us to recover these remains?” Wainfleet asked, tucking the datapad away.
Quaritch reached into the decaying body of the AMP suit and withdrew the human skull of the man who had come before him, battle scarred and small in the grasp of his new alien hand. The recombinant Colonel pondered the remnant of his past self, then crushed it into dust.
“Holy shit,” Lo’ak breathed.
Wainfleet chuckled. “Guess not. Damn, boss.”
Petra stood.
“Hey, sit back down,” Brown snapped from nearby, levelling his rifle at her.
Quaritch’s golden gaze narrowed onto Petra. He straightened, having retrieved a set of dog tags from his corpse, and considered her. The rain was falling harder now, wetting their skin as the bioluminescence of the forest started to wake up around them, including his Na’vi freckles.
“Betcha weren’t expecting your day to turn out like this, cupcake,” Quaritch said. He waved Brown off, clearly not considering her a threat in this form. “The General is gunna be tickled pink to see you in those cuffs. I might just get a medal on my first day back.”
“Lay a finger on these kids,” Petra said, “and you sign your own death warrant. Again.”
His ears pinned. “Well, good thing I’m a lot harder to kill than last time.” He paused, as did all of the recoms, as the General’s voice came through his earpiece. “You heard her, people, five minutes. Marshall up.”
Wainfleet stepped around Quaritch and shouldered Brown out of the way, grabbing Petra before the other recom could. “I’ve got her. Cover us to the north,” he ordered.
Petra didn’t miss Brown’s glare as Wainfleet dragged her into position. “Don’t do me any favours,” she muttered.
He glanced down at her, but didn’t respond as darkness fell over them and the forest was engulfed by the Eclipse.
* * *
The Na’vi girl was praying. Her strange, hushed voice whispered through the rain like a countermelody to the sounds of the glowing forest. “Srung si ayoeru, ma Eywa…”
Quaritch paced amid his squad, scanning the shadows for any sign of movement. He had few memories of being the forest, and none when it was dark like this. Night Ops were a no-go back at Hell’s Gate. He recalled aerial images of the arcane landscape taken on the rare occasion they flew during the Eclipse, veined with blue and turquoise, but being surrounded by it first hand was something else entirely.
‘Blue One, stand by ready. We are three minutes out.'
The Colonel slowed behind Fike and ordered, “Watch out six.” If something was going to sneak up from behind them, better to put a few meat shields at the rear.
Fike dragged the praying girl and Spider around to the back. Spider winced against the pull on his hair and looked up to meet Quaritch’s eyes as he passed. The boy spit at him and the glob plastered on the inside of his mask.
Quaritch scoffed. “Nice one, kid,” he said, and walked on.
“Srung si ayoeru, ma Eywa…”
“Shut up,” Fike hissed.
The littlest one had started crying, her tears mixing with the rain as she slumped against Zdinarks’s grasp.
“Mawey, Tuk,” Petra cooed, “Txopu rä'ä…”
Quaritch knew that one. Do not be afraid.
“Srung si ayoeru, ma Eywa…” the Na’vi girl continued, growing louder.
The Colonel turned, tail flicking.
Fike yanked on her braid and snapped, “I said shut up!”
An arrow cleaved his skull with a sickening thud.
“Contact rear!” Quaritch shouted. He darted forward and shoved Spider out of the way before opening fire on the origin of the shot, absorbing the thunderous rounds of the rifle. A chorus of gunfire rang out at his squad retaliated.
Zhang screamed.
Quaritch glanced to his left and watched Jake Sully’s boy sink his teeth further into Zhang’s arm, drawing a spray of blood. Freed, he launched himself towards the gas canister strapped to the front of Wainfleet’s plate carrier and pulled the pin, unleashing a cloud of yellow fumes.
Petra Hart fell to her knees as Wainfleet dropped her to fumble with the canister, cursing loudly, before the Colonel lost visual amid the acrid smoke.
* * *
Petra stayed low to the ground, crawling awkwardly as she searched for something to cut her damn cuffs with. Of course they didn’t have the courtesy of cuffing her hands in the front like the others.
Someone ran into her, knocking them both flat. She was about to start kicking when she discovered the flash of blue skin belonged Lo’ak who coughed on the ground next to her, suffering from the gas.
“Where’s your sister?” Petra asked.
Somewhere in the smoke, the cloned voice of Zdinarsk snarled, “You little shit!”
Tuk appeared a moment later, lips a glossy red.
“Good job,” Petra breathed, ducking as another volley of gunfire reigned above them. She nudged the kids forward. “Go. Stay low and run.”
Lo’ak helped Petra to her feet and they darted forward, dodging the recoms who grabbed for them as they burst through the smoke.
Petra stalled just long enough to look back and see Spider and Kiri break free. Recom Walker grabbed Kiri’s braid only to be struck in the chest by another familiar arrow, collapsing back. Behind her lifeless body, Quaritch unloaded a fresh magazine on Neytiri’s position with a vengeance.
“Come on!” Spider shouted. When he heard Petra call for them he shifted course and pushed Kiri in her direction.
“Go, go, go,” Petra said, waiting until they rushed past her to continue after them, not looking back this time. She swore as her bare human feet slipped on the rain-slick ground, but managed to keep her footing as they fled from the combat zone.
“That you, Mrs. Sully?” Quaritch’s voice echoed. “I recognize your calling card.”
“Demon!” she called back. Stalling. “I will kill you as many times as I have to.”
“Guess you and the Corporal have been pretty busy. You’ve got yourself a whole litter of half breeds.”
To the north, a new torrent of gunfire broke through the storm. Petra heard Mansk call for backup, followed by Jake shouting orders to someone. Neteyam?
Behind them, the blast of a concussive charge rang out, reverberating through her chest.
“Keep going,” she panted to Spider and Kiri. “Don’t stop running—”
Another wave of force slammed into her. Petra hit the ground, then tumbled off the mighty root that had moments before been her path to freedom. Arms bound, she could not catch herself as she plummeted off the edge and rolled down an embankment.
“Petra!” came Spider’s voice from high above. Pieces of glowing ash floated down around her, remnants of the fiery explosion. “No, we can’t— Petra!”
Go…
His shouting faded. Booted footsteps approached, crunching vegetation that was being whipped by a vicious and unnatural wind.
Someone rolled her over. Dazed, Petra blinked at the towering figures looking down at her, backlit by a spotlight. Everything hurt. Her ears were ringing. Idly, Petra wondered how she had ended up in this position twice in two days.
Quaritch’s face came into focus by degrees. Petra was vaguely aware of the crack in her mask as oxygen level warnings flashed in her swirling vision, but knew she wouldn’t be lucky enough to asphyxiate before they replaced it.
The world lurched as the Colonel picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. “Fall back,” he ordered. “We’re outta here.”