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𝘌𝘺𝘬𝘵𝘢𝘯 𝘛𝘴𝘢𝘩𝘦𝘺𝘭𝘶 ܟ 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 3 ܟ The flip side of the coin

Translated by GPT chat. Postcanon.

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A monolithic two-meter memorial stood in Central Park, a place where anyone who lost a loved one in the war could come. Wars and conflicts of various kinds were so numerous that the local authorities had to expand the memorial. All the names were neatly engraved in alphabetical order on massive slabs. Like a local Stonehenge, this place attracted even those whose loved ones were not on the list. Many came here seeking silence. Such tranquility couldn't be found anywhere else on the Bridgehead, which was expanding in a geometric progression. Bulldozers, robotics, military transport – all of it sooner or later either dulled the senses or drove one insane.

Miles was among the first. He decided to visit the memorial not to listen the silence but to remember those who were no longer around. Fingering the military dog tag chain in his hands, he sat on the marble staircase, tilting his head, observing someone else's memorial procession. Another soldier was gone, or maybe the RDA lost an important scientist: it wasn't so crucial for the colonel; he simply observed and reminisced about his comrades under the fiery speech of the speaker. A middle-aged woman was sobbing uncontrollably, and two teenagers were trying to console her. Perhaps a family lost a father, and the mother's desperate cry echoed across the grounds.

Miles was among the first. He decided to visit the memorial not to experience the silence but to remember those who were no longer around. Fingering the military dog tag chain in his hands, he sat on the marble staircase, tilting his head, observing someone else's memorial procession. Another soldier was gone, or maybe the RDA lost an important scientist: it wasn't so crucial for the Colonel; he simply observed and reminisced about his comrades under the fiery speech of the speaker. A middle-aged woman was sobbing uncontrollably, and two teenagers were trying to console her. Perhaps a family lost a father, and the mother's desperate cry echoed across the grounds.

The Сolonel closed his eyes and sighed. Physically, strength was palpable, but mentally, he felt overwhelmed by a profound sense of despondency. He had never felt so wretched before. As soon as he opened his eyes and gazed upon the slabs, he quickly picked out the names he was seeking.

Lyle... Lopez... Alexander...

Before their sortie, the trio, when no one was watching, managed to gather a fascinating luminescent plant just beyond the campus, oddly resembling earthly hemp. Lopez improvised a homemade bong, and soon enough, the grass was safely smoked. These goofballs hid in the bushes and indulged in narcotics all evening, accompanied by music playing from a portable speaker. Wainfleet, stoned to the point of fluorescent green boogers, even caught an unfortunate lemur and coerced the creature into puffing along with them until hallucinations and exclamations ensued. While Lopez danced, Alexander lay sprawled on the grass, counting the stars in the sky. Perhaps the stress of realizing death and transformation into blue giants had taken its toll on them. Each coped in their own way. The Colonel had to help the lemur and poor Prager sober up. The little creature survived and scurried away into the bushes.

Prager... Z-dog... Mansk...

The Colonel's astonishment was profound when, just before the battle, he discovered this trio in one bed. Nose to nose, thigh to thigh, their long blue tails entwined. They peacefully slept under a large blanket, revealing only their ears, feet, and tails. Miles speculated that the mischievous Zdinarsk initiated this spicy event: she decided to sneak into Prager's bed,, as these two were always together, and Mansk, being a true friend, upon seeing a promising scene, simply joined in (still waters). The Colonel never quite understood if there was a sex between them, but nonetheless, he would hardly ever forget this "sandwich." Every time he unintentionally recalled it, he unintentionally smiled and shook his head.

Fike... Zhang... Walker... Warren... Brown...

Unlike the others, this quintet decided to play board games. A bit of alcohol, a couple of cigarettes, and a radio. Just like in the good old times. It took some persuasion to get Miles to stay, but as if sensing the last moments and the dark future, he, without realizing it, decided to sit with his comrades for a game. In normal circumstances, the Сolonel would have dispersed the mercenaries to their beds, ordering them to rest, but this time, suspicious feelings led the Сolonel down the path of a loyal companion rather than a strict commander.

Recalling the last minutes spent with the team, Miles found the names of all his comrades on the memorial plaque, and it was noteworthy how quickly they had been added to the list. He should have been with them, only fate decided otherwise, sending him to rescue little Spider. If recom hadn't pulled out of the water, he wouldn't have felt such shame, pain, and disgrace for his comrades, but would have shared their peace. He had to overcome his own thoughts to stop thinking about death. After all, who, if not the Colonel, was already acquainted with it. He must live, and he must survive in the upcoming war, as the battle seemed grand and decisive. It's a pity he won't be able to share the taste of victory with his team.

The time was approaching for the joint operation with the Namelesses, and the Colonel couldn't understand what irritated him more - the demotion to a regular scout or the silly nicknames of the clowns. No one, except General Ardmore, knew the real names of the special unit, and they identified themselves with the names of states, apparently, where they originated. Miles still didn't grasp who was who, except for a couple of peculiar upstarts. Michigan, the leader of the group, was in charge of everyone, and Nevada was considered his right-hand man. Both daring and unpredictable. Who in their right mind would trust them with any mission? They didn't resemble true soldiers, rather they seemed like inmates released on a contract. Or perhaps, they were military criminals sent to atone for sins before the homeland.

He could have pondered for a long time on how to get rid of these clowns, but unexpectedly, the chaplain sitting next to him, nicknamed Ohio, startled recom's every thought. The priest silently fingered his rosary and looked at the memorial plaques. Miles skeptically frowned and moved away. He really didn't want to engage with this strange individual, religious figures never inspired trust in him.

-I sympathize with your loss, Colonel, - the chaplain said in a monotone, soft voice.

-Oh really? - Miles sarcastically remarked. - I don't need your condolences, and certainly not interested in discussing my people.

-Closing yourself off won't heal the wounds. We all experience the pain of losing loved ones, but it's not without reason, it's a divine gift - to understand that we are born with pain, lose with pain, and depart with pain.

Miles looked at the names of his comrades, trying not to pay attention to the priest. All that remained was to be polite, as he usually was, and pretend that he cared not at all about the churchly fables. Ohio's words seemed too preachy, as if Miles had walked into a church.

-You are too old-fashioned for such a mission, padre...

The chaplain smiled briefly and looked at recom as if he had always known him and was a close friend. Even his red braids sparkled in the light, much like his smile.

- I don't partake in Namelesses missions, I have my own path, thanks to the will of God. I carry out His mission.

-And what is it? Burying the dead on foreign soil? Your God clearly hides something.

-The entire Universe is God's flesh, for Him, there are no distinctions among planets. Both I and you are His children. And my mission is not to bury but to guide souls to the other world.

Miles smiled at the chaplain's words and nervously flicked his long tail, gripping the military token in his hand.

-Someone among us is clearly adopted... - recom muttered and stood up from the steps, unwilling to listen to the young pastor's lies.

The Colonel silently approached the memorial, where the names of his comrades were engraved. With his long fingers, he traced the contours of their names, mentally saying goodbye, while a tense lump stuck in his throat, impossible to swallow. Too many emotions that he had never felt before, and he didn't even know they existed within him. But today, he had to bid farewell, as to move forward, one must leave the past behind.

Ohio stood up next, lips pressed in the awkward moment.

-You don't believe in God, but believe in our Leader. Michigan won't let you down. He's waiting for you. We take off in five minutes.

"I let you down... Forgive me if you can," thought Miles and, leaning down, placed his military token next to the farewell bouquets.

✘✘✘

Once he regularly conducted safety briefings himself and never thought he would find himself in the midst of regular soldiers. Miles had to suppress his own anger every minute spent with the Namelesses. The gang's leader, Michigan, didn't hesitate to remind the Colonel of his humiliating position, and the constant jokes that came out of the mouth of the dipshit Nevada were so irritating that recom wondered how he hadn't strangled the egghead yet. Kentucky turned out to be the quietest and calmest: a stocky man with the appearance of a pure-blooded Indian. He always sat on the sidelines, polishing his rifle, and remained silent. Even Chaplain Ohio was more talkative than the Indian. The same couldn't be said about Montana and Kansas. These two, with dark-blue dyed hair, were constantly chomping behind the Сolonel, devouring pizza, and not paying attention to the briefing – they just didn't care. The blue-haired duo discussed some chicks they hung out with upon arrival on Pandora. As for Arizona, tall and pumped up like a bodybuilder with a shaved head, she initially seemed to Miles like the strongest guy in the group. Her balls were clearly bigger than any of the clowns, and her sharp cheekbones could cut through objects. She constantly slapped on the back of the neck her comrades if something displeased her, and the only one who blather in response and waved her off was Alabama, mustached with a goatee, resembling a musketeer.

-Well, if everyone understands everything, let's move on to the gear, - said Michigan, placing several black boxes on the metal table along with Nevada. - This especially concerns you, Colonel. You haven't had a chance to see all the new technologies yet, so pay close attention.

Miles growled to himself but stood up from the bench, pushing through the crowd and walking ahead. There, in the suitcases, lay all sorts of gadgets and unfamiliar devices to him. It turned out that the special unit had been provided with experimental gear. One of them was thin bracelets for wrists and ankles. Pressing one with a specific finger movement triggered nan particles that instantly spread across the soldier's entire body, making him completely invisible. The arsenal also included a new model of firearms with self-guided, almost mini-rocket, bullets. With such weapons, the victim had no chance. There were also thermal imaging goggles were also provided for infrared vision to detect the enemy in the most inaccessible places. And ten-centimeter smoke grenades made of durable metal dispersed a substance of the latest development that poisoned both the flora and fauna of the planet: recom was warned that it would affect him too, so he had to be on guard.

-So, we've also figured out the new toys, - Michigan summed up and approached the chaplain, hanging a new, much larger and more imposing cross around his neck. - Padre, this is a gift from General Ardmore. If you're in danger, just point the cross at the bastard and press this tiny button: a 'little bird' will fly out, and the bastard will be back off,- the leader patted the priest on the back and continued. -Well, now let's get down to business... A few minutes ago, the Center received a short SOS signal from the beacon of the missing Sea Dragon Captain Mick Scoresby.

Miles was taken aback. He opened his shocked eyes wide in astonishment and couldn't believe what he heard. Could someone have survived? The hope of someone from his team surviving penetrated his soul instantly. He had just said his goodbyes to his comrades, could it be that the RDA made a mistake and simply didn't find someone?

- Where did the signal come from? Is he on the shore? - recom was eager to embark on the mission.

- It might seem strange at first, but no. The signal came from the forest, three kilometers from the sea.

- Is the Captain alive? - asked Chaplain Ohio, holding the cross with both hands. - May the Lord save his soul...

- Perhaps he decided to set out on foot to Bridgehaed, as all the vehicles were flooded, - speculated Michigan, rubbing his graying stubble.

- Or maybe Sully got him, and it's a trap, - confidently added Miles, hastily starting to gather his weapons. He wanted to set out as soon as possible, not to save some Captain, but to find anyone from his people. Even if it was a lifeless body, Miles would finally come to terms with the loss.

Michigan snatched the rifle from the hands of recom and placed it back in its place.

-Now, Colonel, whatever it is, you're our scout now, not a fighter. We need you to fly reconnaissance and report on the situation. If the blues have captured the Сaptain, I know how to get him back, but first, we need an overview from the air. Take the drone, attach the invisibility bracelets, and off you go on your bird. By the way, don't forget to strap a bracelet on her too. We'll follow you and settle in the floating mountains, in the twenty-fifth sector, where communication works, until we receive your signal. Everything clear?

Recom's hands clenched into fists from the pain, but Miles understood that if he gave in to the urge of anger now, he would forever lose the remnants of the leadership's trust, and what they would do to him afterward was known only to the universe. So, he had to keep himself in check (for the time being) and accepting orders from a self-satisfied jackal. Dressed in the new black camouflage gear, he set off on his way. Behind him, he heard mocking laughs.

"Filth!" - recom muttered to himself.

✘✘✘

Piking down between the floating mountains atop a banshee, Miles detached himself from Kestrel, soaring past crevices and steep canyons. Where waterfalls flowed from the floating mountains, cool droplets splashed his face, and the accompanying breeze refreshed him. The Colonel couldn't help but notice how quickly he had bonded with this winged predator, carrying him over Pandora's landscapes at incredible speed, feeling liberated far from human hustle. The world from above was beautiful. Colonel even unintentionally smiled, thinking that if not for the war, he would gladly spend a vacation in these places. A brief smile flickered on his lips before Michigan's voice came through the microphone.

-Blue, over. We are in the twenty-fifth sector. Waiting for your signal.

Recom lowered his thermal goggles to be ready to spot the target. Steering the banshee lower among the mountains, he covered a few more miles and activated the bracelet: the invisible camouflage worked instantly, making him undetectable. Trees, shrubs, grass. A herd of direhorses five miles to the left. Not a single Na'vi in sight. But if Miles had discovered Jake Sully or anyone from his messed-up family at that moment, he would hardly have restrained the urge to swoop down and bombard them with the poisonous smoke canisters. How fortunate they were.

-I'm approaching the shore at the Dragon crash site, over.

The horizon shimmered with azure iridescence. The beauty of Pandora's sea was incomparable to Earth's. Beneath the blazing bright light, the mirrored waves sparkled, foamed, and crashed against gigantic rocky shores, while the wind dispersed and calmed them. Miles descended lower, reaching for the water, scooping a bit and moistening his face and neck. The banshee flapped its wings, slapping them on both sides against the small waves, creating a rain of splashes.

-See anything? - Michigan asked over the radio.

-Not yet, just water and palm trees.

The Colonel looked around, circled the shoreline, scanning for anything suspicious. Flying a couple of miles along the rocks, he caught sight, through his goggles, of a protruding part of a sunken ship. There, a few meters away, lay the distorted and overturned Matador.

-I see spotted a sunken ship, part of a boat, and not a single living soul,over.

His heart tightened in his chest. He still hoped to find someone from his team, but in the area where the battle had taken place, not a single blue spot was visible. And it seemed strange to him that the RDA hadn't cleared the wreckage of the ship and boat. They left everything as it was, as if they weren't planning to return.

-Scan the area again and display the image on the drone,- Michigan requested, this time not in his usual commanding tone, how he liked.

Miles obediently and patiently repeated the maneuver, completely forgetting that an invisible reconnaissance drone was trailing him somewhere in the sky, transmitting the necessary images to the monitors in Kestrel for the Namelesses group.

-It's empty here, we need to move on. Skoresby must be somewhere in the forest.

-Yes, you're right. I'm transmitting the trace from the received signal, just follow it, and maybe you'll find the Captain. We're heading to the shore, will settle there. How do you read? Over?

-Understood. Wait. End of communication.

Miles led the banshee straight into the forest. However, the further he went in, the more he realized that he would soon have to continue on foot. With each passing minute, the winged predator struggled through the bushes and branches of the trees, until it finally settled on a vine. Her discontented roar echoed throughout the surroundings, and Miles was forced to release the bird. From now only on foot. The humid air and numerous sounds from all directions made him constantly look around and nervously twitch his ears. Miles listened intently, trying to catch something familiar, but all he heard were various animal noises. Holding his gun with self-guided bullets forward, he simultaneously glanced at the small electronic monitor on his watch, which transmitted traces from the distress signal received. Magnetic waves led recom further and further. He began to doubt whether it was a good idea. What if it was a trap? What if it was Jake Sully's plan? Lure him in the middle of nowhere and eliminate him.

"This is already fucking paranoia," Miles ironically thought to himself, carefully leaping over various obstacles like a cat – rocks, streams, and tree roots.

Where he brushed against plants, some of them whimsically folded and squeezed. A couple of tiny lizards ran across recom's broad shoulders, emitting a scraping squeak, and he had to brush them off with his hand. Annoying creatures, at least they didn't crawl into his boxers, for which the colonel was grateful.

With each step, he counted the minutes on his wristwatch, and after twenty minutes, the signal trace disappeared. This meant that the Сolonel had reached the point where Captain Scoresby managed to send an SOS and then vanished somewhere. Either the natives captured him, or the viperwolves devoured him. Miles looked around, then squatted down, carefully examining a small clearing: broken branches, crushed leaves, and barely noticeable traces of someone's feet on the damp, compressed soil. Water quickly filled the earthy holes from the nearby murmuring stream, and recom didn't have a chance to thoroughly inspect the tracks. But he understood for sure: Mick Scoresby had been here, alone or with someone. That someone-either a friend or an enemy, and for some reason, the odds seemed to lean towards the latter. In such a wild and unpredictable place, a person couldn't survive, especially if wounded.

-Kestrel, Blue on the line, do you hear me?- Miles said into the radio. The signal took a moment, unpleasantly crackling in his ear.

-Colonel, the drone can't see you, what's going on, over?

-I found the endpoint where the signal trace is lost, do you copy?

-Colonel, over?!

The static in the headset abruptly stopped. The communication was lost.

"Goddamnit!" Miles nervously swatted his tail, sweeping several small lizards off a bush. He had no idea what to do now. Should he continue forward, or go back and report to Michigan? The thought sent cold shivers down his spine. Miles spat with irritation. Since when did he get used to taking orders? Of course, he had to press on and find Scoresby!

He didn't ponder long on what to do. He simply gathered determination and marched forward. The deeper he went into the thicket, the more glitches occurred in the electronics. At some point, recom lost all communication and even felt a sense of freedom from it.

Somewhere ahead, branches crackled, and whispers were heard. Miles stopped and cautiously crouched down. Every now and then, he had to remind himself of the new super-technology that allowed him to move around invisibly. But he didn't want to take any risks, so he hid behind the broad trunk of an ancient tall tree and listened attentively.

Familiar voices, he had heard them somewhere. They spoke so softly that the Colonel could barely catch the sound. He had to peek with one eye.

-Kiri, please, let's go back,- Tuk whimpered, Jake Sully's younger daughter, pulling her sister's hand. - He doesn't want to come back, we'll tell mom and dad, they'll help persuade him.

"Jackpot!" - Miles' pupils widened in madness, as if he had won the lottery.

-Sweetheart, why did you follow me? - Kiri sighed, taking her sister's hands. - I can't leave him alone, and if we tell our parents, it will only get worse. You've seen Them...

- Please, let's go back! Let's at least tell Lo'ak?

-Tuk, we can't tell anyone, we'll put everyone in danger. I want you to go back and pretend you don't know where I am."

-But mom and dad will be looking for you!

Miles emerged from behind the bushes, grabbing the youngest Sully. The girl squealed in surprise and squirmed, trying to break free. Recom had to lift her up, holding her in his arms. Kiri lunged forward with a shout, but as soon as the invisible barrier of the Colonel's bracelets was deactivated, she froze in place, staring at the unexpected guest with eyes full of horror. The Sully children clearly didn't expect to encounter the enemy so soon. It could be seen how Kiri's limbs trembled; she was deeply frightened for her sister. When Miles pressed the gun to the younger girl's temple, the elder sister lunged forward again.

-Stand there!- commanded recom.

-Please, don't touch her...- pleaded the blue girl in broken English with trembling words.

-Well, it depends how will it going, -Miles threw handcuffs at the girl's feet. -Put them on. Quickly. And don't make me pull the trigger, I've been dreaming about it for a long time.

Kiri slowly reached for the handcuffs. She didn't take her frightened eyes off her sister and was ready to do anything the man ordered, just to ensure her younger sister's safety. However, Miles' plans were not meant to come true. Miles Jr. rushed onto the clearing. Confident and fearless, he stood in front of Kiri, raising his hands as if surrendering.

-Let her go! She's just a child! - exclaimed the young lad.

The tight, tense knot in the colonel's soul, like a heavy stone, reached to his heels. He hadn't expected to see his son again, and now there he was, as if by magic, standing before him with the shining eyes of an innocent yet brave teenager.

-Spider?- Miles couldn't believe his eyes. -What... What are you doing here?

The genuinely excited gaze of the boy darted to little Tuk, who sobbed in the man's arms, then refocused on his father's face.

-Come with me, I'll show you. Just let go of my sister, please...

-Think I'm a fool? Trying to lure me into a trap, huh? Hey, you, quickly put on the handcuffs!

-You'll be the fool if you harm an innocent child! - Socorro exclaimed. I trusted you, now trust me!

Recom looked bewilderedly at the children. He swallowed tensely, not understanding his own emotions. Two different personalities started to wrestle, and he felt it so keenly that he was ready to sink through the ground. After a brief pause, Miles reluctantly and slowly released the little girl. Tuktirey immediately ran to her older sister, embraced her, and hid behind her. They looked at him as if he were a monster from nightmares. Of course, because of him, their brother had died.

Spider breathed a sigh of relief. His trembling breath could be heard even by the animals around. He was so excited that he leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees, trying to gather his thoughts. Miles approached, knelt down, and placed a hand on his son's shoulder to make sure everything was okay. Once again, he showed care that he couldn't understand himself.

-Well, alright... Show me what you have there.

✘✘✘

In a few minutes, the children led the Colonel to a previously unseen cave. A rocky, immense wall, as if intentionally created, had a narrow crack resembling a giant scratch. This crack served as the entrance to the unknown. Miles opened his eyes in astonishment. He wasn't sure if it was a trap, as the two girls had been casting sideways glances at him the whole way, as if they wanted to get rid of him. Recom felt like a fool being led to his execution, but every time he looked at the Spider, something warm extinguished that feeling. He trusted his son, who had already saved him from death.

-Do you really know what you're doing?- Miles asked, following the trio inside the cave.

-And you? - Kiri answered a question with a question, hiding her sister behind her and hugging her with her hand.

The Colonel smirked at the girl's words and menacingly wagged his finger, but she just rolled her eyes and turned her head away.

The further they went, the less daylight there was, but the vaults themselves became brighter and brighter. Rich with living bacteria, they illuminated everything around with a soft blue light. Miles kept looking around and upward, marveling at the beauty. Then he noticed the "freckles" on the girls' bodies light up and looked at his hands. He hadn't paid attention before that, but with the new life, he acquired bioluminescence in the form of countless tiny dots scattered all over his body, even on his genitals.

-We found them on the shore,- Spider said and, turning left, stopped in a small cave room.

There, amid the glowing high vaults of different levels and unknown liana-like plants, in a small modular tent with semi-transparent airtight walls, sat Dr. Ian Garvin, bowing his head heavily towards the ground. Several meters away, lying unconscious with a detached arm, was Captain Scoresby. Such tents were usually taken by scientists who spent a long time in the wild nature of local forests. They could sleep and even study the collected material in them, and if they needed to move on, they easily folded with a press of a mechanical sensor.

Garvin weakly squeezed juice from some flower into an improvised leaf cup, gulping down the nectar without paying attention to those who entered the cave. Miles was stunned at the threshold. He was so lost that for a minute, he couldn't find the right words. It was as if ghosts were hovering before his eyes.

-Dr. Garvin?- Miles approached the man and squatted in front of him. -How are you feeling?

Ian downed another portion of nectar before finally paying attention to recom.

- Ah... It's you, - he said with a half-drunken voice. - Didn't expect...

- What are you drinking? - the colonel sniffed the liquid and immediately grimaced at the sharp, unpleasant smell. - What a nasty thing... Decided to get drunk?

- Of course! After all, there's no whiskey here! How else can I realize my worthlessness?

- What are you talking about? - Miles was puzzled by the scientist's words, he looked questioningly at Spider. - What's wrong with him? Why did he send an SOS signal and then disappear?

- He managed to send the signal, - the guy pointed to Scoresby, - before completely shutting down... But Dr. Garvin broke the beacon and threw it away.

- And asked for our help, - Kiri added, folding her arms across her chest. - He doesn't want to be found by people.

With each passing second, кecom lost the chain of logic and tried to understand what had happened. The doctor's behavior didn't fit the situation: after all, he miraculously survived the war and should have been the first to run to the Bridgehead.

- Damn, explain everything to me step by step! - recom began to get nervous. He approached Scoresby and checked his pulse. - How long is he unconscious?

- Almost from the beginning, - Spider sat down next to the armless body. - When we found them and dragged them into the woods, people arrived. They were looking for survivors, but then something strange happened. One of your soldiers crawled out of the bushes, bald guy, he was carrying his comrade, but the people shot them, knocked them out, and took them away.

- And they also pulled out the bodies of several killed from the water, also from your gang, and put them in bags, - Kiri gently took the squeezed flower buds from the hands of the drunk Garvin and laid them aside: the doctor started snoring.

Miles wearily massaged his temples, trying to come to terms with everything he had heard. He felt like he was in a nightmare, unable to believe what had happened. Wayneflit is alive, and someone else is with him! But they were suddenly captured by their own kind. But why?

- Do you remember anyone familiar among those who arrived at the shore? - the Сolonel simply asked.

- There was a woman in a camouflage cap, your superior. When she saw the blue bodies, she said, "These will be useful to us."

- And did the doctor see and hear everything?

- Yes, he didn't want to go back to people... Said that the whole point of his work was lost, or it all was set adrift for no good... And when the captain woke up and saw me, he triggered the rescue signal.

Miles looked at the snoring doctor, and then at the captain. His thoughts became a thick porridge: he didn't understand how to proceed, but he knew for sure that he had to figure it all out. And to do that, he needed to be cautious.

- Did Scoresby see these girls?

- No, only me... - Sokorro glanced at Kiri in confusion. The girl just shrugged.

Unexpected prolonged howling outside the cave interrupted his thoughts. This sound echoed loudly through the high vaults, and Miles immediately recognized the robot dogs - the assistants of the Namelesses. They found them, and they are already here. Recom jumped to his feet, picking up the body of Mick Scoresby and throwing it over his shoulders. Little Tuk pressed herself against her sister in fear.

-Take the doctor away. Quickly. If they find you, they'll shoot you.

-What about you? - Spider was anxious. -What should we do?

Miles was in a hurry. First and foremost, he genuinely feared for his son, not understanding where such feelings came from. He feverishly removed the throat comms from his neck and handed it to Spider.

-They are looking for the Captain, consider I found him. Hide the doctor, bring him to his senses, and let him contact me on this radio by evening, understood? And better send the sisters home.

-I won't leave you alone! I'll stay with you until you decide to come back! - Kiri ran up to the sleeping doctor, helping Spider lift him.

"What? He left Sully? And, in general, why is he here?" Miles fleetingly thought, but decided to address these questions later.

-Let's go to the other side of the cave, there's another exit there,- said Miles jn., then looked back at his departing father. -Be careful!

The Colonel hurried, swiftly heading towards the exit, carrying the captain, and asked himself, "What the hell is RDA up to?"

He rushed outside and found himself immediately surrounded by the Namelesses. They all managed to put on exoskeletal suits, and their helper robots stood obediently nearby. The metal dogs skeptically growled and started sniffing the colonel.

-You found him there? - Michigan asked with a suspiciously calm expression, nodding towards the cave entrance.

-You're quite an expert at asking dumb questions, Commander. Since I brought him out of there, what do you think? There's no communication in this zone, I had to act blindly. The Captain urgently needs help, it seems he's almost croaked.

Michigan grinned and approached кekombinant, taking Skoresby's body.

-Well done. Now let's get out of here before some homunculus devours us.

✘✘✘

The elegant wine glasses on trays sparkled in the dim light of wall lamps. Expensive champagne, exquisite snacks, and the diverse scent of various perfumes lingering in the hall made Laura feel out of place. This was not how she envisioned an RDA staff dinner. Everything around painfully resembled earthly luxuries. Laura never thought she would feel herself back in her old reality. On one side, influential people elegantly dressed in business attire, making the therapist feel like an outsider; on the other, typical Earthlings, reminiscent of home.

Laura bit her lip and hugged herself, glancing around with the innocent gaze of a newcomer until she was scolded by her friend Sandy, who stood nearby.

-Don't worry so much, everything is fine, and you look much better than most people here, - mumbled the girl, offering her shy friend a glass of champagne.

Asadi sighed hopelessly and, forced to wrestle with her own insecurity, took the glass and took a few sips. Thoughts of the past surfaced in her mind. Perhaps she wouldn't behave so insecurely if her teenage years were less controlled by her parents. Laura's father was old-fashioned, and although she was born in the USA, the rules of Eastern mentality influenced her life. Strict upbringing bordered on tyranny, which the young girl growing up in a secular country found challenging to endure. Yet, despite all this, Laura mentally thanked her dad. Without his instilled perseverance and the aspiration for medical sciences, she wouldn't be working on another planet now. The creatively inclined dreamer aspiring to the stage was long suppressed, but Laura achieved such great success that she was now participating in a crucial intergalactic mission. Perhaps she comforted herself in this way, but it made life seem easier.

-Tell me, did my mascara smudge?- the therapist quietly asked, turning her face towards her friend. Adjusting her pencil skirt with her free hand, she thought she looked too vulgar.

-You're a beauty with long, lush lashes,- Sandy smiled and winked. -Take a look at who's here! - she nodded in the opposite direction.

Even avatars participated in the social event. A group of tall, blue humanoids stood a couple of meters away, most likely some of the scientists. And how charming they looked in their business suits and elegant dresses. When Laura saw them, her face lit up with joy. It was only the second time she had glimpsed these delightful beings. She constantly wondered why she hadn't seen them before, as many employees had their avatars. In her memory flashed the rescued avatar, recom.

"I wonder where he is now and how he's feeling," Laura thought involuntarily.

Sandy, spotting someone familiar among the men she had a light flirtation or even more with, cheerfully waved her red locks like a fox and hurried to greet them. Asadi, feeling relieved, intended to walk to the bar and have something less alcoholic to drink, but then a hand landed on her shoulder.

-I thought you decided to ignore us,- Jonathan Bryce jokingly said, dressed in black slacks and a starched white shirt. He adjusted his side-swept hair and looked appraisingly at the bewildered girl. It seemed like he had used more than two bottles of hairspray on his sparkling side part and black strands.

-Good evening, Mr. Bryce. No, no, I couldn't deny you the honor...- Laura tried to smile friendly and casually, but she still felt it came off a bit awkward.

-I'm thrilled that you came, dear! And how stunning you look, accept my admiration! - the administrator leaned slightly forward and kissed her hand.

Laura blushed and even felt a warm flush on her cheeks, but gratefully nodded at the boss's compliment. Nevertheless, being in the company of such an important person, she couldn't help but sneak glances at the avatars. She constantly looked their way with the curiosity of a child.

-Do you like them? Indeed, our technologies have come a long way...- Jonathan immediately noticed where the girl's attention was focused. -Would you like me to introduce you? Just say the word!

The therapist's eyes sparkled. She shyly smiled but, unable to refuse, nodded several times. Bryce liked that he could fulfill her small wish, and taking her hand, he led her straight to the group of avatars. Among them were xenobotanists and outstanding field biologists. The chief administrator introduced Laura and acquainted her with everyone. She stayed in their company for a few minutes, forgetting about everything else in the world. They discussed all the intriguing questions: from communication with artificially conscious bodies to sensations with Pandora's nature. How they heard sounds, what their visual range was, and how long it took them to adapt to their bodies.

She would have stayed with the tall humanoids if it weren't for the sound of a lyrical song. Jonathan didn't miss the chance to invite Laura to a slow dance. Of course, she was immediately embarrassed, but refusing seemed indecent, so the therapist stepped onto the dance floor. Her knees trembled with excitement, but it wasn't her first dance. Laura loved dancing as much as singing, so with each passing second, she moved more confidently.

-Would you mind if I ask a personal question?- Bryce suddenly inquired.

-I suppose not, - Laura shrugged.

-Do you have someone, or are you alone by yourself?

The therapist didn't know how to react to such a blunt question but tried to contain her surprise. She understood that Jonathan's attention wasn't entirely selfless, but she wasn't prepared to face this reality so quickly. Laura would have preferred to stay in a friendly vacuum for much longer because she hadn't even entertained the slightest thought about her boss.

-Why did you assume I might be alone by myself? - She gave a brief smile and furrowed her eyebrows.

-I think women like you dedicate their time entirely to work and career growth, isn't that right? - The administrator continued to sparkle with an interested smile.

Laura hesitated with her response, taking a moment to ponder. It was true. She was exactly that kind of person and knew no other life. Yet, subconsciously, she didn't want to appear as the stereotypical "botanist" in the eyes of this man.

-You know, I'm not made of stone, and like any woman, I understand what relationships are. But our lives here are not simple. We're not here for that. Certainly not me. Almost every day, I have to save, heal, and even nurse. Do you think, after such a packed day, I want to think about relationships? No, I prefer a relaxing bath and an interesting book before bed.

Jonathan opened his mouth in astonishment and, tilting his head, replied quietly:

- I'm impressed, Miss Asadi.

- Tomorrow awaits me the same day as yesterday and the day before, so... - the therapist ironically smiled.

- If only everyone had such a passion for work! Many here lack it. You wouldn't believe how many people burned out...

- And I believe because I was among them. Once I even needed psychological help.

The appearance of General Ardmore at the event, dressed in a stylish trouser suit, accompanied by the Namelesses, immediately captured everyone's attention. The group of newcomers was her personal project, hence the attention they received. They all looked intimidating, even in bright starched suits. At least, Laura immediately felt a sense of imaginary danger in the company of these strangers. They greeted everyone, shaking hands. Nevada even started dancing to the music, entertaining the crowd. He even tried to pull Laura onto the dance floor, but the girl quickly hid behind Bryce, as if indicating that she would be protected by the boss. Nevertheless, Nevada managed to execute his dance plan once, dancing with Laura and a couple of other girls.

- So, you're a therapist? - Nevada asked during the dance. - Do you know we need a doctor in the team right now? - Nevada continued, not stopping the dance.

- You know, that's a good idea! - Jonathan seemed to have an epiphany. - Laura, wouldn't you like to participate in the missions of the Namelesses? You would be a great help on the battlefield!

- On the battlefield? - the girl was surprised and shook her head. - I'm sorry, but I don't want to risk my life, and besides, I have enough patients here...

- Smiley, you won't have to participate in battles, - Nevada began gesturing with enthusiasm, his eyes wide open. - You'll be in charge of the mobile unit, imagine?

- And how many lives could you save there, beyond the Bridgehead! - the administrator continued to persuade, eager to impress and show interest in promoting his passion.

- Here, they can bandage wounds or administer a shot without you! But out there, we're left without help! - Nevada laughed, spinning the therapist in the dance.

The head administrator didn't leave these two alone. He danced like a schoolboy, already in an intoxicated state.

- Think about it, Miss Asadi. The salary is higher, the contract is more favorable, and I've heard you want to bring your parents here? I can assist with that! RDA always appreciates the most loyal and promising employees!

Laura perked up. She had long dreamed of seeing her family, and now it seemed like fate was hinting at her. In that moment, she completely forgot about all the dangers. After all, her job was to help people, save lives, so why not agree?

- You know, maybe there's some sense in this, - she nodded.

- So, smiley, are you agree? - Nevada immediately rejoiced, he had gotten so used to Laura that he felt like an older brother next to her.

Bryce clapped his hands happily:

- That's excellent! Miss Asadi, welcome to the main department of RDA!

Michigan, all this time, stood aside with a glass of cold whiskey, talking to Ardmore. His face was focused and calm. Unlike his comrades, he wasn't accustomed to getting drunk and always remained vigilant, monitoring what was happening.

- So, how's Captain Scoresby doing? - the man asked the general, who watched the event with the keen gaze of a true organizer.

- Still in the intensive care unit. Doctors are battling the infection that got into the turn off flesh. Besides, he lost too much blood and slipped into a coma. But well done, there's a chance he'll pull through. Small, but it's there.

- Is he that important? - Michigan smirked and rocked on the toes of his polished shoes.

- Every person matters to us. We can't afford losses. Mick Scoresby is one of the most dedicated to the cause. If he survives, he'll be valuable in future expeditions.

- Well, then let's drink to the Captain's health, - said the man, taking a couple of confident sips, grimacing at the strength of the alcoholic beverage.

- What about Quaritch? By the way, he's not seen at the event.

The unnamed one's lips stretched into a self-satisfied smile. He put one hand in the pocket of his slacks and turned his head, stretching his neck.

- Your blue Colonel is too suspicious. After the cave incident, I sent my dog on reconnaissance, and inside, traces of aboriginals and unfamiliar humans were found. I can confidently say that our scout didn't just stumble upon the captain.

- Do you think he might be in cahoots with Sully? But what's the point? Maybe Quaritch wasn't always loyal to us, but he's certainly dedicated to his ideas and work.

- I don't know, General. Good thing your doctor implanted a tracking device in him. Thanks to that, we'll soon expose the blue one.- Ardmore smiled contentedly, looking at her comrade, and clinked glasses with him in a friendly manner.

✘✘✘

The friends left the event exactly at ten o'clock in the evening, bidding farewell to all the new acquaintances. As much as Laura wanted to stay until the end of the feast, she couldn't afford it because of her work. Early mornings took a long time to adjust, and it was essential to go to bed on time. The therapist couldn't afford to oversleep work. Tomorrow she had several patients and an exciting new contract awaiting her. Slowly but surely, she was climbing up the career ladder, but the most pleasant part of it all was the potential relocation of her parents. If everything worked out, she could see them in 6 years. She had to believe that time was on her side. Laura smiled, thinking that her parents were young enough to qualify for the relocation. She was born when Mrs. Asadi had just turned eighteen. Early love with an Eastern man quickly led to her marriage and family.

-Did you see how Nevada was circling around me? - Sandy was too excited to be happy for her friend, but Laura didn't blame her, well acquainted with her amorouosness.

-He was circling around everyone today, literally, - the therapist laughed, taking off the annoying high-heeled sandals and walking barefoot on the warm path to the building exit.

- I've never had such a bold and vibrant man before. We exchanged numbers, I think he'll call me tomorrow.

Asadi observed the behavior of Sandy, who was circling around, and shook her head.

-But you won't be disappointed if it doesn't happen, right? They are important people, all those... state names.

-He won't just get away from me like that. If he doesn't call, I'll call him myself, - a sly smile blossomed on the girl's lips as she took her friend by the hand, giggling with her as if they were schoolgirls after prom.

-How persistent you are! - Laura laughed.

-But not as much as Jonathan Bryce! - Sandy laughed in response.

Through playful female laughter behind them, a distinct scraping sound was heard. The friends immediately turned around, noticing a mountain banshee descending from the path towards the fourth hangar. Laura opened her eyes wide in astonishment, feeling her heart tighten in her chest, as if she had seen her idol again. The rescued recombinant, with suspicious caution and bending down, got off the banshee, then leaped barefoot onto the grass. Two witnesses who froze on the path opened their mouths, watching the tall-tailed recom.

-This... another avatar, let's go,- Sandy waved her hand and pulled Laura along. However, as if enchanted, Laura stood in place and observed the humanoid.

-This is the one I saved, - she whispered for some reason, not wanting to move.

Sandy folded her arms across her chest, watching the rescued one in the distance.

-Well, that's cool. Is it a reason to go back and dance a little more? Let's go back? The party is in full swing! When else will we have such a hang out? I don't remember such events being held at all...

Laura no longer listened to her friend. Slightly tilting her head, she watched the tall blue recom, shimmering in the twilight, moving his ears in different directions, listening to the sounds, and looking around with a serious gaze. He clearly didn't want anyone to see him here, but Asadi, standing too far to be seen, silently hoped that their eyes would meet, and this hope made her tremble in her knees. An unprecedented fear filled her soul. The girl swallowed.

-Are you even listening to me? - Sandy waved her hand in front of her friend's face. - You're into him...- Giggled foxily.

Laura immediately straightened up and shrugged.

- What?! Silly, let's go... - The therapist quickly walked towards the gate, almost running away from her friend, trying to contain her smile.

- Well, what, he's not bad, muscular, with cute ears, I would give it a try...

Laura couldn't hold back her laughter, covering her mouth with her hand.

- I'm shocked!

✘✘✘

Miles looked around intently. There wasn't a soul within ten meters, indicating that the entire staff was enjoying the party, which seemed like a pointless event to the Сolonel. He bent down and walked along the hangars, putting on a new throat comms around his neck. The earpiece quickly found its place in his ear. He understood that he had to check every corner of the main RDA building to confirm his own rightness or mistake. The General took away his dead comrades, and definitely not to cremate them. The phrase Spider heard from Francis Ardmore echoed in his mind: "We'll need these." But what did she need dead recombinants for? And what was she trying to hide from the Colonel? The thought that the humans had taken down the surviving Lyle along with someone from the guys scratched at his soul like a crazed cat. Miles intended to find out everything here and now, while the eggheads were drunkenly frolicking under the trendy music. That's the downside of such gatherings—no one suspects anything.

There were only a couple of problems left—the patrolling security and numerous cameras scattered every few meters. The gun shooting ampoules with a potent sedative and the bracelets allowing invisibility turned out to be Miles' best friends at the moment. One press on the bracelet, and he was out of sight. He could confidently straighten up and, trying not to make any noise, search for his comrades.

In his ear, the radio crackled. The recom adjusted the earpiece.

— This is Spider, over — the familiar voice sounded.

— Is Garvin ready? — Miles hid behind the hangar wall, waiting for the patrol to pass by. The flashlights momentarily blinded him, the recom froze in place.

— Yes, he finally puked, — the teenager chuckled. — Doctor, the Сolonel is on the line, come here...

— Quaritch, do you hear me? — Ian Garvin asked with a heavy voice. He clearly wasn't in the best shape after consuming the hallucinogenic plant nectar.

— I hear you. I'm on the premises. Do you have any ideas at least? Where should I go? I know almost everything here, but there must be hidden doors somewhere...

— Listen, I'm not entirely sure, but... A couple of weeks ago, I overheard two scientists discussing the catacomb network under the main building. I don't know how true it is, but I think in case of a nuclear or meteorite bombing, RDA built bunkers underground.

— Well, here it comes — Miles exclaimed, looking around. — Should I look for hatches?

— It's not that straightforward here. If RDA did something like that and didn't inform the staff, they might have somehow disguised the entrance to the catacombs. You know, an entrance only for the chosen ones and all that...

The recom squatted down, loading the pistol magazine with sleeping ampoules. A suppressor on the barrel, and he could go further.

— I got it. And do you think my group is being held there, underground? What's the point?

— What do you think yourself? Maybe they don't want you accidentally discovering your comrades while passing by the hospital or warehouse?

— Well, yes, there is logic in that, — Miles grinned, baring his fangs, stepping out into the open area.

Out on a small clearing of manicured lawn under the tall lamps with bright lights, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was visible. It was so unusual without the invisibility bracelets. The spacious glass terrace on the third floor, about ten meters away, showcased people in business attire dancing. They were drinking and having fun, and Miles, noticing a few soldiers from the Namelesses group, just shook his head and spat.

"Idiots."

-Here is your... Your son, he... Supposes that one of the entrances might be somewhere near the location of the bosses' accommodation. -One of them? - Miles was quite impressed that someone directly called Spider his son, and his soul even warmed at the scientist's words. In fact, Ian Garvin became the first one to refer to Miles Jr. as the Colonel's son.

- Your young lad, although quite gloomy and serious, is also very clever. Look for entrances near the campuses of the chief administrator and the General, in the parking lots of their cars and their offices.

- Alright, let's start with the Ardmore campus. It's just a block away.

Recom quickly turned onto the right street and moved along the buildings, passing by construction robots that, without stopping, continued their work even during the so-called Pandora nights. People not only learned to create builders but also figured out how to incorporate noise suppression function into them. That way, when it was time to sleep, the builders couldn't be heard, although the work was in full swing.

Miles quickly reached the required campus, which belonged to the top leadership. Both General Ardmore and Administrator Bryce had their apartments here. Quaritch had a similar residence in Hell's Gate once, but that was during his human life, long gone.

Entering the building from the main entrance seemed reckless, so the Сolonel circled the building and stopped in front of the window of Ardmore's presumed residence. He stood there for a few minutes, contemplating where exactly the entrance to the bunker could be. General Ardmore wouldn't organize it right in her bedroom, would she? Although, she was capable of many things.

The rustling of branches made recom turn around. Crawling along the five-meter monument dedicated to the victims of the First War, partially overgrown by the local flora, was a small group of primates. Prolemuris were nibbling on leaves and crawling on the monument as if it were a tree. Miles approached, took a closer look. On the solid monolithic cube, right in the middle, there was a peculiar, even seam. Previously, to Miles, it seemed whole.

-Copy. It seems I've found the entrance...

He touched the seam with his long fingers and slid along.

-And where is it located? - Garvin inquired.

-Literally in the monument on Thirty-Sixth Street, - Miles grinned. -Ironically-

-Can you get inside?

-We'll find out now...

Miles pressed his palms against the monument, pushing with all his might. In vain. He began to move around it, pushing and tapping until he heard the distinct creak. The wall suddenly smoothly split into two halves, like an electronic door, revealing to the vigilant Avatar a metal spiral staircase leading down. He hesitantly peered inside, and as soon as his head was on the other side, the automatic lighting system kicked in. Built-in lamps on the walls lit up one after another. Now Miles could see how deep the descent was. Presumably, six meters deep and an unknown expanse.

-I see the staircase leading to the catacombs. Not sure if there's anyone inside right now.

-Colonel, be careful, if there are motion sensors inside, the security system may trigger.

Miles immediately thought about his bracelets that made him invisible. Could they bypass the surveillance system?

-No choice. Descending blindly...

-Are you sure it's the right time? Maybe gather more information about these catacombs first? Or who might be inside?

Recom hesitated. He wasn't sure about anything, but the sense of duty and responsibility for his comrades overcame both fear and concern.

-Yes, I'm sure. Stay in touch. If all goes well, I'll contact you later.

Garvin sighed with excitement.

-Good luck, Colonel...

-It won't hurt. End of communication.

Barefoot, he cautiously touched the metallic floor, slowly ascending the staircase. The sensations of excitement and anticipation tickled his nerves. The Colonel was not anxious for himself but rather worried about not being able to find his comrades. This thought weighed on his soul like a heavy stone, one he wanted to get rid of. He had to keep going, disregarding the danger and the risk of losing a second life. After all, what did it mean to him? Especially after his comrades lost their second lives because of him.

His feet touched the same metallic floor as the staircase. The ceilings were about four meters, if not more, and the corridors were narrow, by all standards of constructions similar to underground structures. Miles pointed his gun, ready to shoot at any moment. Left turn, right turn, but strange sounds were heard ahead. At the end of the corridor, a massive iron door concealed the secrets of the organization from outsiders, and recom intended to uncover them all. He approached the door, but as soon as he barely touched it, the access system squealed. The spot where he needed to place his palm for fingerprint recognition lit up bright red.

-Cursed! - Miles cursed under his breath.

If it didn't work one way, it would work another. The Colonel waved his fist, striking it against the door, creating a ringing noise in the space.

- What was that?! - A startled doctor appeared from one of the turns. Unaware of anything, he looked around and walked straight toward the door.

The Colonel pressed his back against the wall, waiting for him to place his hand on the scanner. A distinctive beep, a green approving stripe. In an instant, a tranquilizer shot into the doctor's neck from the gun. The man collapsed to the floor like a sack. Miles stepped over the poor guy and entered inside.

The strange, peculiar scent of unknown substances tickled the walls of his nose. Recom sharply exhaled a couple of times, but it didn't help. At that moment, an unpleasant stinging sensation invaded his eyes, causing tears to stream down his cheeks. The Colonel covered his nose with a free hand, unable to comprehend the source of the strange odor. His nostrils burned painfully, and he coughed several times.

"What the heck?!"

Shaking his head to dispel the discomfort, as if trying to ward off this inexplicable influence, he sensed chemical compounds lingering in the air, as if there were a leak or intentional dispersion for such unwanted intrusion scenarios.

As soon as he entered one of the rooms resembling a spacious laboratory, his heart tightened into a tight knot. Cryo chambers lined up like coffins with transparent walls, each containing the frozen bodies of his comrades. Z-dog with a pierced chest and a shattered eye, covered in a thin layer of ice, resembled a tall, slender mannequin. Lifeless, motionless, with tubes in the nose delivering an unknown blue substance into the body. In other cryo chambers, the bodies of Prager, Alexander, and Lopez were similarly frozen at low temperatures. Miles's hands trembled, his legs became weak. A little more, and he could lose his balance. It was like a nightmarish dream come true. He saw the horror with his eyes, but his mind couldn't believe it was reality. With each passing second, as he looked at the bodies of his comrades, he lost any desire for his own existence. He lost the meaning of his work, the meaning of himself. A tremor ran through his veins, causing a shudder. For a moment, the Colonel lowered his eyelids, then looked at the cryo chambers again. A tight, unswallowable lump stuck in his throat. He had never shed tears in his life, not from chemicals that made one "cry," but from the soul, from the heart—he wanted to do that. Slightly parted lips quivered, but he immediately suppressed his emotions, clenching the fist of his free hand painfully.

-A stranger in the building! - a cry came from behind.

Miles turned around. A doctor in thermal vision glasses. The first shot. The second. Two rats in white lab coats on the floor. The Colonel moved on, veil of anger. Out of nowhere, another rat leaped. He didn't want to waste ampoules, the gun was in the holster. He grabbed the rat by the head, breaking its neck with a crisp, distinctive crunch. A female scream echoed. Someone hit recom from behind. The fire extinguisher rolled into the corner. A leg kick. Splatters of human blood. Rats in lab scattered in different directions, like rats fleeing a sinking ship. Someone intended to press the alarm button. Didn't make it. A medical scalpel plunged into the temple. Three more remained. Scissors would do. One hid under the table. Miles kicked it away. Grasped the rat. It squealed, sensing imminent death. Writhing in his hands. Long fingers closed around its neck. Thin and so fragile. One sharp squeeze. Crunch. Blood from the eyes. The body on the floor. Long-awaited silence. Not a soul left.

Miles found it hard to breathe. He coughed and leaned against the cold wall, trying to collect himself, calm himself. He wanted to kill everyone in this damn building. The Colonel pressed his ears to his head to intercept his overwhelming emotions, slid down the wall, holding his head in his hands. A bitter sense of betrayal and humiliation. Why did they treat him like this? His comrades... They didn't deserve this. He gave his life for people, and they spat on his soul. They used him.

From the adjacent room, through the wall, came someone's raspy cough. Miles jumped to his feet. Drew his gun. Today he was ready to kill anyone who stood in his way. One step. Two. Three. The room was cold, like a freezer. It reeked even more of chemicals. The Colonel could barely keep his eyes open. Coughing again. Miles turned around and froze. Two metallic collars. Chains. Handcuffs. Straps. Lyle and Mansk—alive. Miles opened his reddened, wet eyes wide, dropping the gun from his hand. The sound of the weapon hitting the floor made the captives startle. They looked around the room with confusion. Miles had again forgotten that his invisibility was concealed by the invisible bracelets.

-Guys, it's me, - said the Colonel.

Wainfleet immediately stared forward, tugging at the straps that bound him. Mansk showed no reaction. He sat in the corner, seemingly zombified, hugging his knees and staring into the distance.

-Keep calm, you're not crazy. There's an invisible barrier on me, I can't remove it, or they might detect an intruder, - said the Colonel.

-Co... Colonel? Is it really you? - Lieutenant's voice trembled, he couldn't believe his own ears.

Miles placed a hand on the lieutenant's trembling shoulder, quickly freeing him from his restraints.

-Yes, it's really me. Hard to believe I found you.

-But how? How did you... What is this... Damn! Finally! Thank you! - Lyle, by touch, located his commander and joyfully embraced him. - I thought I'd die here like a dog!

-Quiet, Lieutenant. Everything's fine. I won't let them torment you anymore, - Miles embraced his comrade, squinting, trying to control the tremors in his body. -Come on, soldier, get up. We need to get out of here quickly.

#avatar #james cameron avatar #recom #avatar recoms #recom quaritch #fanfic #avatar2 #colonelquaritch #recom lyle wainfleet #recom mansk

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ana-lora-rein · 3 months

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The cover for the fanfic 𝘌𝘺𝘬𝘵𝘢𝘯 𝘛𝘴𝘢𝘩𝘦𝘺𝘭𝘶 by the author 3D.IRIN Read fanfic here: Chapter 1 Chapter 2

#avatar #james cameron avatar #recom #avatar recoms #recom quaritch #fanfic #avatar2 #colonelquaritch

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ana-lora-rein · 4 months

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Therapist Laura Asadi wishes her favorite man a very Merry Christmas! The characters in my fanfic Eyktan tsaheylu For this amazing drawing, thank you @sarrows-show

#avatar #james cameron avatar #recom #avatar recoms #recom quaritch #fanfic #avatar2 #colonelquaritch

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ana-lora-rein · 5 months

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art for my fanfic Eyktan tsaheylu RDA staff therapist Laura Asadi and her beloved Col.

Thank you very much @sarrows-show

#avatar #james cameron avatar #recom #avatar recoms #recom quaritch #fanfic #avatar2 #colonelquaritch

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ana-lora-rein · 6 months

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Awesome cover art for my fanfic Eyktan tsaheylu from 3D.IRIN

Private RDA therapist Miss Laura Asadi and her cat;)

#avatar #james cameron avatar #recom #avatar recoms #recom quaritch #fanfic #avatar2 #colonelquaritch #miles quaritch

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ana-lora-rein · 6 months

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𝘌𝘺𝘬𝘵𝘢𝘯 𝘛𝘴𝘢𝘩𝘦𝘺𝘭𝘶 ܟ 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 2 ܟ Underside

Amateur translation. Postcanon.

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Back to chapter one

Miles opened his eyes. Tiny cracks in his parched lips glued his mouth together unpleasantly. The colonel had to open his lips and taste the familiar tang of medication. The hospital stench hung in the air. He'd never liked to lie in them, preferring the old military methods: decontaminate the wound with alcohol, close it up, and you're good to go. But those rules didn't work on Pandora. If you were shot or shot by a wild creature, you were almost dead. Even the plants wanted to eat your flesh or spray deadly poison in your face. Miles was beginning to regret having agreed to this stupid experiment with a recombinant organism. Another memory flashed through him like deja vu, showing images of his past life. Things were simpler then. But who had? Was he the same man in a blue primate's body, or was he a three-metre tall instrument of retribution with his own thoughts and preferences. When he thought about it for a while longer, it made his head spin. One thing Miles knew for sure: if it weren't for his super strong body, he'd probably be dead again.

The colonel took a deep breath and lifted himself up on the pillow, finding himself in a multitude of wires. Butterfly needles were inserted into his veins, and IVs around him were delivering solutions of several hues to his body. Miles looked around, touching his fingers to his injured shoulder. Where a hole had once flared, the stitches were now rapidly tightening, and there was hardly a trace of the mutilation.

«How did they do that?».

A doctor entered the room.

— How long was I out? — the colonel asked, marvelling at the disappearance of the many knife wounds from his body.

— A day, sir, — a man in a dressing gown approached the patient, checking the quality of his work. — Do you remember Mr Bryce's instructions? We had to get you back on your feet sooner rather than later.

Miles looked at the fluids in the drips.

— Drugged me with local drugs, didn't they? Does this egghead think he's God?

— Have you believed in God, sir? — The doctor smiled as he removed the first butterfly needle from the colonel's vein.

— No, just remembered that some freaks want to be like him.

— Unfortunately... — the medic agreed. — But don't worry, I tried to put you back on your feet as gently as possible. I won't tell you the secrets: it could take half a day, but if you feel dizzy or nauseous, I'll give you that pack of ampoules for that, — the doctor nodded at the bedside metal table, showing the drugs.

— Am I going to have to carry them everywhere? — Miles was confused. — And why would I experience nausea and dizziness?

— It won't last long, just a minor side effect, — the doctor clarified, freeing the recombinant's veins from all the butterfly needles, stacking them on the table.

— Has anyone ever told you that my means of transport is a big parrot that goes up to the same height as fighter jets? And if I get dizzy while flying, I could fall over. In that case, you'll never get this Transformer back on its feet.

— Unlikely, sir. You have a good connection with the banshee, and besides, there may not be any side effects, I'm just warning you, — the doctor opened the packet of medicine, breaking off the plastic tops of several ampoules. — Take two at once now, and then as needed.

Miles looked sceptically at the clear, unfamiliar liquid and sniffed at it, like a hunted street cat that was about to be fed by strangers. He gingerly took the vials with his long fingers and brought them to his mouth. It was a clear, unremarkable liquid, and the odour was peculiarly pungent. He hesitated for a few seconds, wondering if he should do it, but the doctor's nod of approval and a look of sincere hope for a better outcome convinced the colonel.

— Well, here's to you, Doc... — rekom said and poured the liquid from each vial into his body in turn. The sour taste, which reminded him of the orange fruit of Earth, made him wrinkle his face and click his tongue a few times.

— Glad you like it, — the doctor grinned.

— I can't say it's pleasant, especially on an empty stomach, but I think I believe you, — Miles sat down on the bed and put his bare feet on the cool floor: the air conditioner was working properly, not allowing the patient to feel discomfort from the high temperature. A slight but tolerable dizziness immediately swept over him. — Let's take this slow. I realise Bryce needs you now, but you'd better get up slowly, — said the doctor. — And you should eat something tasty, I'll let the kitchen know.

When he felt the coolness of the ceramic floor, Miles didn't listen to the doctor anymore. He got to his feet and, straightening his back, walked to the window, looking out. Putting his face into the light Pandoran wind, the rekom immediately focused his sharp ears on the multitude of sounds: he moved them in different directions, even picking up the cries of his «parrot» in the distance. The banshee sensed him and did not fly beyond the high walls of the Bridgehead.

Miles looked up into the sky, where the giant pale blue Polyphemus loomed over his companion, and remembered his fallen comrades.

— Have you heard from my men? Anybody back in town but me? — The colonel asked hopefully, without turning to the doctor.

— No, sir, unfortunately not.

A feeling of unshakable guilt scrambled up in his soul. By his rash actions he had ruined them. Trapped them and killed them. Images from memory flashed through his mind. All the hours spent with these guys. An elite unit that's become a piece of memory again.

— Sir, have a seat, I'll tell the kitchen to bring you some breakfast, — the doctor said hesitantly, noticing the recom's hunched figure.

— I need a shower, that's all. Get my clothes, I have to go, — Miles muttered.

***

Laura spent an hour fidgeting around the mirror, feeling like a stupid high school student who couldn't decide on a prom outfit. That elegant pencil skirt of breathable black fabric didn't go well with the sapphire-coloured top. At least that's what she thought. She had never been good at dressing for business meetings and dinners, simply because such events were rare for her. Once again, Asadi felt out of place - so much so she was used to only working and sitting at home behind books.

— Can you explain why I agreed to this adventure? — she shouted into the next room, where her colleague, Nurse Sandy, was scurrying around like a squirrel.

They had arrived on Pandora in the same crew and had quickly found a common language. Sandy Vale was a kind and helpful person, cheerful and sociable, while Laura, who was too vulnerable, sometimes lacked the moral support her friend could give her. So, after the therapist's first emotional breakdown on Pandora, Sandy got the management to put them in the same building, and since then the young colleagues had shared a modest apartment and had no regrets. When Laura had bad dreams, Sandy was there for her, and when Miss Vale was about to leave work early for another date, Asadi helped her friend in any way she could.

— Because you'd be a complete fool to deny the RDA's chief administrator dinner! — Sandy flew into the room in a light cocktail dress, putting earrings in her ears.

Laura rolled her eyes, swivelling her hips at the mirror.

— It's a business dinner, — the therapist pointed out. — And anyway, it's just his thanks, I told you!

— Yes, yes, I see, you saved a three-metre blue soldier, a very important one, so important that Mr Bryce thought it would be a good idea to invite the ordinary doctor to a meeting of engineers and scientists.

— Well, yes, that's what happened! — Laura laughed. — Gosh, it's a bad idea to have a fitting during an hour's break at work…

— If you stop panicking, you'll realise that you look stunning, — Sandy approached her friend from behind and put her hands on her wide hips, assessing her outfit in the mirror. — Believe me, you look very sophisticated and acceptable, you have nothing to worry about.

— I just want to make a good impression and not to look too vulgar or, on the contrary, pretentious... — she admitted, tucking her thick curls to the side.

— Honey, I'm telling you, Bryce will be drooling all night!

Laura smiled, but pushed her friend away with her hip, not wanting to listen to her lustful jokes. Sandy, on the other hand, continued to giggle and throw around loud phrases until she heard glass rattling from the window. The girls turned round in sync. What was the nurse's surprise when she saw a baby prolemur clinging to the window, staring inward in some sort of expectation. Unlike Sandy, Laura was not surprised in the least, but rather genuinely pleased.

— Oh, hurry up and put on your oxygen mask! — she quickly put on hers and ran to the window. The next moment the window was open, and the baby prolemur was tenderly pressed against her breast. The little beast with the blue protruding ears wrapped one pair of arms around the girl and the other began to tug at her hair.

Sandy's jaw dropped open.

— Laura? What. This. Fuck it?!

Asadi crouched on the edge of the bed with a contented look, playing with the beast and smiling at it. She loved these creatures so much, she couldn't do otherwise. Whenever the opportunity arose, she was ready to squeeze and play with them. And no-one knew it.

— Laura?! — the nurse called again, and took a wary step forward.

— What? That's my little friend, if you please, replied the girl with a smile on her face. — She usually comes with her mum in the mornings, but I don't see her, — she looked back at the window.

— What do you mean, «comes with mum»? Do you know that's forbidden? Laura, you could be fined or worse, fired! You can't tame wild animals, they're unpredictable! Not to mention the fact that you're blowing carbon dioxide into the room and apparently using the air conditioner and filter more often than you should!

— Oh, come on, you don't know anything about them at all. They are prolemurs, they are the most harmless creatures on this planet, — the girl parried, treating the curious little girl with a piece of banana. — And don't worry about the filtrator: we have enough for another six months, so it won't be a problem if I open the window a couple of times for the little guest.

— But how? How did you tame them like that? And why haven't I caught a single animal in all that time?

— Usually they come around the time you take your morning shower for an hour and a half, but today something obviously happened... — Laura got up from the couch and walked over to the small fridge, pulling out a berry yoghurt. — She was very hungry and excited....

Sandy finally found the strength to sit down next to the cub, a look of genuine sympathy on her face. She fearfully reached out her hand and slowly, anxiously, ran her fingers down over the little ears, touching their delicate shells.

— Poor little thing...

— There's been a mountain banshee flying around here since yesterday, have you seen it? It belongs to the rekom I rescued, and I suspect it's the one that had time to feed on this little one's flock.

— Well, I saved one and killed another, — Sandy said sadly.

The therapist shook her head at her friend's words and returned to the cub with a small plastic spoon and berry yoghurt.

— It's got nothing to do with it Sandy, it's not like rekomas eat them.....

— You know, I wouldn't be surprised, — the girl grinned as she helped her friend sit the baby girl more comfortably. — Are you sure you know exactly what to do? Don't they feed on milk? How old is she?

— They're herbivores, and they like insects, but they also like sweets, — Laura explained. — This little one is about five or six months old, and she's quite independent in her choice of food.

— What are we going to do with her if her mother doesn't turn up?

The girls looked at each other. They looked at each other with a look of worry, until they heard another familiar scraping on the glass. The prolemur mum was trying to climb through the ajar window.

— Praise Pandora! — the friends exclaimed in unison.

***

The avatar campus was empty. Miles was surprised, standing under the jets of the communal shower, for the operators were just beginning their work. Some were just learning how to control the three-metre blue body, while the older scientists and their guards were eager to stretch their legs so they could go into the forests to study the flora and fauna.

«I wonder where everyone has gone?» — thought the colonel.

Resting his hands on the tiled wall, he lowered his head, watching the grey mud flow into the drain mixed with blood, leaving behind dark scarlet streaks. There were many wounds, but even more to think about. The merciless conflict in the sea swirled in my mind with rapidly flashing images. Splashing waves, scraping metal, machine gun bursts and the screams of men. His men. They could hardly be called that, but it seemed more familiar to Miles. He refused to see himself any other way. All he had left of the Na'vi was his bright blue appearance, but everything else seemed to have been passed on with the memory built into his body. At least, he couldn't see himself any other way.

What could be worse than the corpses of loyal comrades? Probably the cold heart of a son. His remoteness and his wild desire to claw at his new father's throat. The little Spider never left his mind. Miles kept wondering how he was doing. What would happen if Sally found out what he had done? What would happen if his crazy wife Neytiri found out? Had Miles Jr. told her about pulling a dying and defeated enemy out of the water? Those soul-stealing questions were too many to count. Rekom felt almost the first experience of his life. It pricked at his heart, making him gulp tensely.

«If they touch him, I'll...».

An unfamiliar and prickly thought snapped through his mind. Miles pounded his fist nervously on the tile. It was proving to be so unaccustomed to worrying about a child that it was driving him to anger and embarrassment.

«Calm down, cretin, he's nobody to you».

Miles grabbed the towel with such irritation he nearly tore the thick terry cloth. Dry himself off, get dressed, and head to the carpet to see the Generaless and Selfridge number two. What these two would present this time, Rekom had no idea, but he was ready to offer his variant of further operation. Eliminating the collaborator was the first priority. No one should gather wild clans of humanoids into packs and poison them against humans. Miles was sure that if they were deprived of their leader, they would remain in their primitive age with bows and spears. But as long as Jake Sully was with them, they would train, learn more and more about the enemy, and use their knowledge willingly.

Not thirty minutes later, Miles was all set. He walked off the campus and jumped straight to the roof. As soon as he mentally called out to the banshee, she was screaming on the horizon. The beautiful, dark blue raptor with multicoloured spots on its wings descended onto the roof, clawing at the metal with its sharp claws. Rekom held out his hand, and the banshee made a guttural chittering sound and clung to its master with such devotion that Miles couldn't help but half-smile. He grinned at the winged predator's reaction, attaching the neurons of the scythe to her. Each pair of her eyes immediately widened, the colonel felt light and warm, as if he were being welcomed by a close friend.

— Well, baby, let's fly to the Center, — Miles gently stroked the banshee's narrow muzzle and she, as if understanding every word, obediently bowed her head, allowing the rider to be on top.

***

General Frances Ardmore trained in her exoskeleton suit at the RDA Central Building range. She swung her long metal limbs, batting away baseballs, then jumped over obstacles and fired her rifle at targets. And so it went on in a circle until the general was satisfied that her body had taken the maximum load for the day. As a military man to the bone, Frances said it was everyone's duty to keep the body toned, because the tougher the shell, the tougher the soul. But it was not only her Spartan beliefs that made her train day in and day out, but also the certainty of an imminent full-scale war. All sorts of plans were brewing in the council, and everyone wanted to add something of their own: many were thinking about how to deal with the enemy in a gentler way, but Ardmore had her own opinion on the matter. She had long ago decided what she was going to do, and the chief administrator liked it.

While the Generaless was practising various combat techniques, Jonathan Bryce was relaxing in an improvised tent near the sports court. Even during the break, he managed to hold a few talks with his colleagues on Earth, contacting them via a hovering monitor that hung on the wall like an image from a projector. A glass of tonic freshly squeezed juice, croissants on a glass table, his favourite light-protective stylish glasses and a filtration device that allowed him to breathe the air he needed in the tent. What more could he wish for? Life seemed to be getting better, for it was not for nothing that Bryce had sought this position for a desperate few years, working his way up through the ranks. Now that he could take on serious tasks and many aspects of the RDA's work and plans depended on his word, he could finally make the world of human society a better place. For who but he understood the truth of the structure of life? A man who had travelled through the thorns to the stars.

He could have argued about this favourite subject for a long time, but the sudden cry of a banshee that flew up made him shudder with surprise. The winged predator descended near the tent, allowing the rider to jump to the ground. Miles straightened his back confidently and looked back: Ardmore had already turned her attention to the rekoma and walked in his direction. The colonel entered the tent.

— Do you always appear as spectacular as an artist on stage? — Bryce sat on the velvet-upholstered, semicircular couch.

Miles noticed the decoration of the «lounge» and furrowed his brow in surprise. In the tent he had to put a transparent mask to his nose every few minutes to breathe the proper air.

— You should give the doctor a big bonus for getting me back on my feet in time, like you told me to.

— Colonel, you don't hold a grudge about this, do you? I'd prefer to co-operate amicably and without the stares. After all, you and I are in the same boat.

— And you're wary that I'm going to capsize that boat? — rekom grinned. — Don't worry, I'm a military man: I'm used to following orders, so let's get right down to business while the boat stays afloat.

— That's the spirit, I know! — Bryce smiled. — So that's where we'll start…

The administrator's words were interrupted by the general who entered the tent. She silently approached the table and, taking a glass of juice, drained it immediately. Drops of sweat rolled down her face, leaving traces on the collar of her military T-shirt.

— Colonel, — she said confidently. — I see you're in great shape, and that's good, because some changes are coming.

The Recombinant nodded back, folding his arms across his chest. It seemed as if Miles was ready for anything, just to go in search of the traitor Sally and finally put an end to him once and for all. This time the burning determination irritated his mind more than ever.

— You know, we've been thinking about this for a long time, because one slip-up is an accident, but two slips-it's a pattern worth paying attention to, — Bryce's words were like a bowl of ice water to Miles. He shook his head, pushing his thoughts away, and glanced questioningly at the supervisor. The administrator's face turned suspiciously serious, and General Ardmore looked away, trying to remain as cold as possible.

— I've already realised since yesterday that I haven't satisfied your desires, but are you really going to rape this topic further or should we focus on what's important? While you're blowing smoke up your arse, Sally's plotting an offensive. I'm sure he is. With his son dead, he'll do anything! You want a couple more trains overturned or mines blown up?

— I'm sorry, Colonel, but your words make no more sense than those of a rebellious teenager, — Mr Bryce said. — First of all, where's your human offspring gone? He was with you the whole trip, wasn't he? The tracker in his oxygen mask couldn't track him. Apparently he changed his mask or knew he was being followed.

Before answering, Rekom mentally cursed. Irritation crept over his skin with unpleasant prickling goosebumps. The bastards were pushing at the hurt as if on purpose.

— I can't know. The little one had been lost during the battle. Probably dead.

— Hmm, well, I'm sorry, — the Generaless looked on in disbelief. — Another mistake on your part.

— Exactly! — Jonathan added, snapping his fingers. — We could have asked him for Sally's whereabouts. After all, his pleas for help would have drawn out the entire saboteur group.

— You think the blues would come after a human child? — Miles grinned.

— He's been living with them! You know, Sally's a lot more related to him than you....

— What are you getting at? We held his blood children and the children of the water clan chief captive, and if it hadn't been for the clever whale, it would have been over! Sully was ready to surrender and was swimming towards us! Didn't Dr Ian Garvin tell you how clever these things are?

Miles's irritation was quickly changing to outright anger. The pupils of his bright yellow eyes dilated frantically, and his long tail flicked nervously from side to side, nearly hitting everything on the table. He couldn't let his superiors dump all the responsibility on himself, for Rekom remembered well how he'd asked for more people. He felt he was fighting a losing battle, for Jake Sully was cunning, and it was more than he wanted to expect.

The radio in its holster on General Ardmore's leather belt rang out. Miles wanted to add a couple of angry comments to his speech, but he was imperiously stopped by a waving hand gesture.

— General, they've arrived, — a male voice said briefly.

Miles bowed his head questioningly.

— We're at the sports court. Have them come here.

— I'm listening, General.

The radio had no sooner gone silent than the distinctive sound of the convertible's blades could be heard outside the tent. Miles had long been accustomed to recognising aircraft by sound. Intrigued, Rekom stepped outside, followed by everyone else. The iron bird lowered itself onto the lawn. As soon as the automatic door lifted up, strangers in black camouflage gear jumped out of the cockpit. Eight unremarkable, but only at first glance, men were looking around and speaking in pure Na'vi. Miles raised his eyebrows in surprise. When he noticed the strange patches on their armour, "Private military company Nameless", he was puzzled. The youngest of them, a red-haired man with long braids like a Viking, stood out. He wore a coloratka on his collar and a silver Catholic cross around his neck.

«A military chaplain? What the hell is that?» — gasped the colonel.

— General Ardmore, my respects! — one of the strangers came forward with a theatrical bow. He took the lady's hand and kissed it like a true gentleman. His face was wrinkled, his eyes sunken with the look of a wild jackal, and he had a short Mohawk instead of the usual military haircut.

— Glad you made it, — Ardmore said with a friendly smile. — How was the intergalactic flight?

— Almost six years out of commission, thought our arses would wrinkle, but the rats in white coats took care of that, — said one of the men, a tall, lean blond with straight silver teeth.

— Nevertheless, we are very glad that the management agreed to send you! — A cheerful Bryce jumped forward, shaking everyone's hand. — At last we're getting some real professionals on board!

— Any explanations? What the hell is this? — Miles couldn't take it anymore.

Jackal gaze took a few confident steps towards the recom and appraisingly examined him from head to toe.

— Look, lads, a talking cat.

— Wow, really? — Miles grinned, looking down at the insolent man.

— Before you is a non-state military formation, created by me personally and approved by the leadership, — General Ardmore announced. — The Nameless Squad will operate in the interests of the RDA. It is not subject to the control of the official army as you and your men are, Colonel, which means it can operate unhindered by the moral principles imposed by some of the council men.

— And we've been acting under the influence of moralists all this time? — Miles laughed.

— I'd call it something else, but I think you realise that whatever influence you've been under, it hasn't been successful. So from now on you will be a scout in the squad of the of the Nameless. That's all. Your job is to bring information, to trace the path of Jake Sully and the rest of the rebels.

Miles couldn't believe his own ears. He laughed out loud, but without much gusto, as if he'd heard the world's most ironic joke.

— You've demoted me, I take it?

— Unofficially, — Bryce clarified. — Don't worry about your salary, Colonel, you're still useful to us.

— Fit as what? A six for clowns? Maybe I should remind you that I'm in the state army, and my contract means acting officially, not with the Black Pants Squad, which apparently no one knows about except you.

— If you're worried about the contract, we can add a couple of clauses to it, we have a lawyer available.

— Your lawyer is nothing if he can put me in an unofficial military formation outside the control of the state!

— Michigan, did you hear what they named us? — The blond man with the silver teeth turned to look at the Jackal. And apparently it was their leader, for Miles saw echoes of his own countenance in him. It was as if a reflection had popped out of a mirror and taken on a more brazen, prison-like form.

The one called Michigan circled Miles, laughing at the sight of a long blue tail that twitched nervously with a dark tassel at the end. The Nameless continued to speak in the language of the locals. But Rekom had enough knowledge to pick up distinct swear words. Someone called him a scout altogether. Too much pressure. And too many brazen eggheads. Miles hissed angrily, abruptly grabbing Michigan by the waistcoat and jerked it up to the level of his face. The man stopped laughing immediately, and the mirth faded from his face.

— Colonel! Put the commander in his place! — Jonathan exclaimed, but he stepped aside, wary, not wanting to get involved in a conflict with a three-metre recombinant.

— Colonel? — Ardmore placed her palm gingerly on the pistol holstered on her belt.

One of the Nameless only chuckled. There was a tense silence, except for the sounds of nature in the background and the workings of the Centre. The serious expression on Michigan's face changed to one of relaxation. He stretched into a mock smug smile.

— Ohio, get our friends, — he ordered, glancing at the redheaded chaplain.

Silent and quiet, he stuck two fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly to the entire area several times. First a strange mechanical scraping sound came from all directions, and then something like an animal-like growl. Miles wiggled his ears, listened, then unclenched his fingers and his captive collapsed downwards, hitting the hard surface with his tailbone.

In the daylight, something glinted metal among the bushes and trees outside the range, and in the same second four huge robots appeared in the area, leaving Rekom stunned. Resembling snakewolves, three metres long and two high, they ran up to their masters like obedient pets, glowing with dark blue eyes. The pearlescent panels shimmered with blue-green hues at different angles of view, like fish scales under shimmering water. It seemed that if they were turned at a certain angle, the robots would become invisible. And so it happened: one of them, seeing the blue recombinant, took an aggressive stance and almost merged with the environment.

«What a load of crap», — Miles thought, marvelling at the new technology.

It seemed impossible to be surprised by anything else, but these robot dogs made a strong impression. Each had eight long, mechanised legs, two pairs of eyes, and impressively large tails that resembled scorpions, with long needles at the ends. The robot dogs growled like predators, moved like predators. Flexible and agile, they were remarkably docile.

— Well, Colonel? How do you like our assistants? — Michigan smiled haughtily, stroking one robot's face. — Why don't you join our Black Pants troop? It'll be fun, I promise.

#avatar #james cameron avatar #recom #avatar recoms #recom quaritch #fanfic #avatar2 #recom lyle wainfleet #recom mansk

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ana-lora-rein · 6 months

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Is there a way to read all of Ekytukan Tshayleu on Tumblr in English? There's a few chapters, but I can't seem to find the others.

Hi! Only the first chapter has been published here so far, but the second chapter will be up one of these days 💝 The translation is amateurish, but I hope it's understandable and you'll enjoy it 😇 Slowly I will publish the rest of the chapters (there are already 13 of them in russian)

#avatar #james cameron avatar #recom #avatar recoms #recom quaritch #fanfic #avatar2

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ana-lora-rein · 6 months

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Do you recognise these cool guys? Z-Dog and Mansk exude the vibe of mobsters who are best not to quarrel with... These images were created by the artist AnXis for my fanfic Eiktan Tsaheilu

#avatar #recom #james cameron avatar #avatar recoms #recom mansk #recom zdinarsk #avatar zdinarsk

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ana-lora-rein · 6 months

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Sorry, I couldn't help myself

#avatar #james cameron avatar #recom #recom quaritch #avatar recoms

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ana-lora-rein · 6 months

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Look at these beauties! The artwork for my fanfic 𝘌𝘺𝘬𝘵𝘢𝘯 𝘛𝘴𝘢𝘩𝘦𝘺𝘭𝘶

Artwork by AnXis

#avatar #james cameron avatar #fanfic #recom #recom quaritch #recom lyle wainfleet #avatar2 #avatar recoms

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ana-lora-rein · 7 months

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If I may, I'll share my result too :DD This is what the artificial intelligence saw of me as the Na'vi... It's like being from the Tawkami clan

Ohhh you’re beautiful 🩵🩵

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ana-lora-rein · 8 months

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𝘌𝘺𝘬𝘵𝘢𝘯 𝘛𝘴𝘢𝘩𝘦𝘺𝘭𝘶 ܟ 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 1 ܟ Broken Wings

Amateur translation. Postcanon.

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Marines don't die, they go to hell...

His ears were ringing endlessly, and his heart, pounding frantically in his chest, seemed about to burst out. The only thing that cooled off was the tailwind, which kept from passing out. If he had lowered his eyelids for even a second, in a fainting state, he would have fallen from the flying banshee straight into the rocky abyss of the soaring mountains. Miles felt warm trickles of blood rolling down his temples. He had to overcome the stabbing pain in his body to brush it away with his hand.

— Bitch... — Quoritch cursed, spitting up the clots. He gripped his fingers tightly on the collar straps of the winged beast, guiding it toward the base.

The flight wasn't long, but all the way there, Miles had only one thought: Why didn't his son stay with him? Little Spider, struggling with conflicting feelings, did not let him die: pulled from the bottom of the wreckage of the sinking shuttle, growled one last word and fled away. Maybe the kid did it out of the compassion he'd inherited from Sally? Or out of a sense of indebtedness to the one who had brought him into the world? In any case, the colonel was left confused. And in the back of his mind, two very different beginnings were struggling. They, like cats, were gnawing at him from inside, reminding him that sooner or later he would have to choose. One was demanding to turn around, to find that scoundrel Sully and take out the wretched gang for the damage they'd done, and the other was wanting to forget, to tell everyone to go to hell. His jaw clenched in irritation, and Miles clenched his teeth. He promised himself he'd figure it out. But there was no way to undo what had happened. His team, his loyal comrades-all of them dead at the hands of the blue apes. What a shame for him as commander! Poor Lyle. He wanted to go to the makeshift sauna at the bottom of the hill just outside the town. And the Reaper... She'd still be alive and well, even if she was blue in the body. Mansk had intended to ask the beastie out on a date. And though all the boys knew how foolish his idea was, he couldn't ask anyone else out.

«Scumbag Sully and his cum wife!»

A gagging interrupted Miles' thoughts. Rekom crouched on his side, spitting out blood. A stinging, biting pain squeezed under his ribs. He mentally counted the damage his enemy had done: a punctured shoulder, something like a lung wound, a concussion that made him dizzy and his eyes swim. All this he had felt once before. On Earth War, it was like déjà vu, a memory that came back to him. The pain was the same, but the motivation was different.

Hear that, Sally, how does it feel to betray your country?

The Winged Beast. Banshee. It suddenly nervously fluttered its wings, screaming as if distraught. The animal sensed everything the rider was experiencing. The colonel remembered the connection (tsaheylu). This connection seemed too strong, too obscene and too explicit. Gathering his will into a fist, Miles took a deep breath and exhaled, placing his palm against the banshee's head. He stroked the beast, tried to calm it down, because we don't need the bird to get nervous and send it into the abyss. The colonel understood that he had to get to know his new friend better, to learn the subtleties of communication.

Like a thunderclap, the wireless rattled loudly in his ear. He still had the earpiece with the microphone in his ear.

— Quaritch! Can you hear me? General Ardmore calling!

— Shit... — Miles sighed heavily, coughing and coughing up, — Yes, I'm on the line, General! The mission failed, there were too many of them! Back to base!

— Why haven't you been in contact for two hours?! What happened?! What happened to Dr. Ian Garvin?!

— Missing or dead.

— And Captain Mick Scoresby?

Miles crouched in pain and wrapped his arm around himself, trying to answer as calmly as possible. He never liked to report, especially to women, and the worst thing for him was when it was a woman who turned out to be the boss. The colonel could only respect the generaless for the first half of the day he met her before she got under his skin with arrogance and prejudice.

«Fucking bitch...»

He had to unfasten the Velcro vest and throw it off his bloody body: even the clothes squeezing his chest prevented him from speaking.

— Missing or dead, — the Colonel repeated.

— Go immediately back to the scene and find the doctor! Can you hear me?

— I hear you. — Miles's breathing quickened and his eyelids seemed too heavy.

He wanted to finish, but the shroud that fell over his eyes and the ringing in his ears plunged him into darkness. His hands slid down, and recom fell chest-to-chest on the banshee's neck, finally losing his composure and his equilibrium.

***

Laura Asadi always loved weekends. Even though the sun was beating down like never before, illuminating the city streets with its scorching rays and casting glares on the glass panoramas of the buildings, she went to the park for a long-awaited jog. Nothing could have made her happier than the mesmerizing nature of Pandora. Unless it was music on her headphones and a desire to pursue dancing, singing, photography, or maybe even writing a novel. But as much as a young soul's heart tugged at creativity, it was her profession as a therapist that allowed Laura to leave a dying planet and find herself in the most influential organization. The RDA appreciated her abilities and welcomed her into their ranks. They gave her a new life that she longed to share with her family. Happy for their daughter's fate, her parents remained on Earth. Laura could only arrange their move to Pandora by working off her first contract, and she humbly awaited that day.

The week flew by unnoticed. Every day she had to work late with patients caught up in the maelstrom of events. People couldn't find common ground with the local tribes: A prolonged war had broken out. Diversion after diversion claimed more and more victims. Few survived the battle with the Na'vi. Lora understood that they were fighting for their territories, and were not at all happy to have unexpected visitors from space. Any attempt to negotiate between the two parties to the conflict was backfiring. Too different lives, too different species, too different view of the world.

Laura admired the philosophy of the Na'vi. Before going to bed, she read books about this amazing species, their culture and everyday life. She especially liked the works of the once popular scientist Grace Augustine. Fifteen years ago this woman had managed to make contact with the Omatikaya forest clan. They even built a school for children, where Miss Augustine taught earthly lessons and shared her knowledge. But, unfortunately, her efforts were wasted. There was a conflict that remained the subject of numerous theories. Laura heard only one truth: A certain Marine Jake Sully, an Avatar member, sided with the Na'vi during the first war, gathered the clans into an army, and prevailed by expelling the humans from Pandora. This precedent has remained on everyone's lips to this day. After all, from time to time Sully would sabotage military depots and blow up cargo trains. Some considered him a collaborator, a traitor to the motherland, and some quietly admired him and wished him victory. Laura, on the other hand, always found it difficult to choose. She tried to stay out of the fuss and do her job - to heal the wounded, to save lives. After all, working off her contract to get her family back from a dying, poisoned Earth.

Gathering her long dark hair into a ponytail, Laura stepped into the thicket of the park, breathing in the scents of the local flora through the transparent oxygen mask. She liked to come here in the mornings when she got up early: she enjoyed nature, and fed the funny prolemurs with bananas before exercising. Some animals began to recognize her, came down from the trees and unceremoniously stretched out their paws in the hope of getting a treat. This time red apples were waiting for them. No sooner had the girl rustled her backpack than twigs rattled around her. On all sides there were those who wanted to eat them. They wiggled their ears, curiously waiting and looking at the guest with interest.

— Guys, not all at once, you do remember to be able to share, don't you? — Laura laughed as she handed out the apples. One of the cubs, begging for attention, climbed down from his mother and brazenly climbed onto the girl's shoulder, wrapping one pair of long paws around her and tugging at the strap of her top with the other. — Oh, is that you, buddy? I remember you, you're growing up fast...

She quickly got used to and grew to love the animals here. Her acquaintances and colleagues always wondered how these animals let her in so quickly. After all, usually prolemurs tried to stay away from people, and if they approached, it was only for a moment. Inadvertently, Laura thought she loved animals more than people, and she should have gone to the veterinary department. If it weren't for her promise to her dad and her love of the arts, she would have. Born into a family of the medical generation, she hadn't found the courage to break a long-standing tradition. Even though she felt out of place, she was one of the best in the department.

Asadi didn't have time to finish feeding the prolemur pack. Suddenly the roar, so wild and piercing to the core, made the beasts scream and scatter in panic in the bushes. The girl shuddered, clutching her heart in terror. The sweep of bright blue wings that came down on the ground, crushing the bushes, shocked and stunned her. Laura had never seen a mountain banshee this close. From something screaming in panic and shaking her head. The girl opened her eyes in wild amazement. A bloodied, unconscious Na'vi had fallen from the winged animal's back. A tall blue body in military gear fell between two prickly bushes. The banshee flapped its wings and rose into the air, disappearing into the sky.

«Oh my God, it's an avatar!»

Laura dropped to her knees and crawled toward the man. The long thorns of the bushes touched her tanned skin, scratching her to the point of pain. The girl clenched her teeth from the unpleasant thrill, but, holding herself together, approached the victim. Streams of blood trickled from his wide nose, mingling with the profuse sweat on his blue skin. The avatar furrowed his dark eyebrows and lowered his pointed ears in pain and agony, but he did not regain consciousness. He only opened his mouth, breathing heavily in the air he needed.

Laura caught her breath. She stared in shock at the three-meter-tall humanoid she was seeing for the first time in her life. Her hands were shaking with excitement. She hadn't had to deal with avatars yet. The therapist wasn't sure she could give first aid to this creature properly, because she didn't know how much their anatomy matched that of a human. But despite her fear and uncertainty, her therapist habit was to go nowhere. With feverish movements, she began to check for a pulse and determine the damage to her body. The girl also fleetingly noticed the long tail she had accidentally sat on. She hesitantly put her palms to the humanoid's chest, probing for numerous cuts. Blood was flowing from the punctured shoulder. She had to act immediately. The purple insignia of skulls and a snake on the victim's clothing suggested that this was someone very important to the RDA. A recombinant organism. Back from the dead, he risked ending up on the other side of the world again.

The therapist gathered her senses and was vigilant. She grabbed the edges of her cotton T-shirt, tearing the white fabric in two halves. A few moments more, and the punctured shoulder was carefully bandaged. The girl couldn't let it die. Quickly she took the smartphone out of her backpack with her bloodstained fingers and dialed the right number. The beeps were excruciatingly long. Laura was shaking with fear for the creature's life. She gently wiped the blood from under his nose, checked his pupils, and lifted her eyelids. Rekom was on the verge of life and death. Laura swallowed the lump in her throat. Emotions were running wild.

«God, I hope you don't die!» — Laura thought, and a shuddering veil covered her eyes.

— Emergency service. What's wrong? — The operator's long-awaited voice came through the smartphone like a breath of oxygen.

Laura perked up, holding reckom's bandaged shoulder with her free hand. He hissed desperately, like a roadkill cat, remaining unconscious with only one twitch of his tail.

— Therapist Laura-Anastasia Asadi speaks! Suburban Park sixth district, thirteenth precinct on the south gate side, a recombinant has been found in critical condition! Send a car immediately, he has lost a lot of blood, punctured shoulder! Also suspected second-degree concussion!

The wounded man moved his ear. He tried to catch every word, tried to come to his senses, but all he could do was open his blood-glued lips and whisper faintly:

— I must... I must...

— What? — Laura leaned toward his face. She excitedly contemplated every inch of smooth blue skin with smooth "tiger" stripes, and her hand gently slid down the long neck of the amazing creature, where the pulse beat faintly.

— Miss Asadi, five minutes, the brigade is on its way, wait!

***

At the end of the long, bright tunnel, flooded with blinding light, Miles saw the outlines of people. They were calling his name and rank, asking him to return. Somewhere he'd heard those voices before, painfully familiar, but no image had ever emerged in his mind.

«Who are they? And what do they want?»

As if he were weightless, light as a feather, he floated and felt absolute serenity. He did not want to fly to the sound of the voices. He wished he could stay. This strange place of walls of bright white light engulfed him with every second and distanced him from human silhouettes. It seemed so familiar, so quiet and safe. There was no noise, no one was giving orders. And there was no pain.

«It's so good here» — Miles thought, but the bliss was short-lived. An invisible force, like a magnet, pulled him forward along the tunnel. A sense of excitement and fear made his heart beat fast. Now he heard not only people's voices, but also the pounding of his own heart. Something squeezed his lungs. The feeling of his body returned. And the pain returned. The heaviness in his right shoulder was accompanied by a groan. Miles opened his eyes.

— Finally! We thought we'd lost you, Colonel, — said the man in the big round glasses and white coat. The nurses, standing on either side of the patient, shined flashlights directly into his eyes, testing the response of his pupils. Miles exhaled irritably. He wanted to raise his hand and shove the pesky medics away, but the straps of sturdy material prevented him from even moving.

— What the hell? — the recom stared at the restraints that held him in one position, overcoming the stabbing pain in his ribs.

— I'm sorry, sir, this is an involuntary measure. Do you remember what happened to the previous shift of doctors? Your violent reaction sent them to the ICU.

— I'll put you in the ICU if you don't take off those fucking bracelets right now. Now!

— Sir, no, I can't, I'm sorry, that's an order... — the doctor smiled tensely, adjusting his glasses on his thin humped nose.

— I order you! — growled grudgingly Miles, emphasizing the pronoun.

— Please, sir, calm down, you can't be nervous, you've been injected with a double dose of antibiotics...

The doctor's speech of trembling, uncertain words was interrupted by an electronic beep. The massive doors parted to the sides, opening to the visitors. General Ardmore appeared in the ICU in the company of several guards and with a man in a black business suit. When Miles saw people in such suits in front of him, he was knowingly preparing for something unpleasant. These well-dressed rats always demanded too much and gave nothing in return. The first thing he would remove from his memories of his past life was service to such chumps.

— You have no right to give orders if you can't handle even a simple task,— the general said, and walked over to the wounded man, looking at his injuries from head to toe with a look of frustration, — report what happened. And where's Dr. Ian Garvin?

Miles pressed his lips together, holding back the urge to curse, and, clenching his fists, obediently answered:

— The ship sank. The crew, the doctor, and the captain are probably dead. So were my men. Sully attacked from several flanks. There were more of them than we thought, there was little chance of winning.

— But those chances were there? — the man in the suit asked.

Miles glanced at the stranger, thinking only of how nice it would be to take a cool shower now, but instead he had to lie in the medication-soaked room and report back.

— That's right. If it hadn't been for their tame whale with amrita in its head, I'd have executed the scumbag Sally.

A tense feeling arose in his mind. He remembered how the blue savage, Sally's wife, had put a dagger to Spider's throat, intending to avenge her son's death. But was Miles guilty of that? Jake, as a father, had failed. The inevitable war, one way or another, would have touched everyone anyway, and the family leader could have ensured that the children would not be involved. But he himself gave the trump cards to the enemy and was punished by fate.

— Are you going to write in your report that the whale is to blame for your failure, too? Or maybe you screwed up strategically after all? — The generaless folded her arms across her chest in displeasure, glaring at recom with her penetrating eyes from beneath her camouflage cap.

Miles turned his head away, looking out the ajar window, and for a few seconds there was silence in the ICU. There, on the base grounds, right on the roof of the warehouse, sat his dark blue banshee. The celestial predator spread her broad wings that dangled gracefully on either side of the roof and brushed out her feathers. Military onlookers passed by, darting away as if she were a demon, but the bird was strikingly calm.

«What devotion» — still marveled the recom.

The irritation was replaced by an unpleasant longing somewhere in the depths of soul. Son. He came to mind again. The boy had chosen to stay with the one who had raised him since he was a baby, even after the demon stepmother had nearly slit his throat. Miles tried to understand his own feelings and inadvertently imagined two different beings struggling inside him.

«You little bugger, all because of you!» — thought the colonel, remembering the face of the furiously snarling Spider.

— I'll make the report very honestly, don't worry, General,— he said, looking at his boss again with a calm look.

— It's not the report I'm worried about, it's your recklessness and stupidity! You've been dragging around with that wild boy and you've let your guard down.

— You're looking in the wrong direction, General. I took Sully by surprise, killed his son. He'll come. He'll want revenge. Then it'll be over quickly.

— Oh, so the result of the defeat is the future? — The man in the suit came back into the conversation. He kept writing something down in a folder. — You sacrificed an entire fleet to eliminate one saboteur? Then how many souls do you need to take out the others? Particularly the leader.

— I don't like the way he looks at me," Miles blurted out, trying to lie down more comfortably, but the pain in his shoulder made him moan painfully.

— Meet the chief administrator, Mr. Jonathan Bryce, — the general waved to the doctor, pointing to the medicines, and he obediently administered a recurrent dose of painkillers.

Miles shook his head hopelessly and closed his eyelids tiredly. The voices ringing in his head were getting tiresome.

— The last thing I need here is another Selfridge...

— Don't be sarcastic, Colonel. Do you realize why you were sent here again? — asked the man named Bryce, — because I got the impression that you had lost the thread of the narrative in the cases.

— You can't judge a war that isn't over by one lost battle,— Miles immediately retorted, — Sully will come back himself, and this will be our chance to eliminate the bastard.

General Ardmore's face stretched an ironic smile. She spread her arms to her sides and replied:

— You have lost twice, Colonel. Once in that life. The second time in this life.

— Honestly, I don't quite understand what happened in that life, — recom frowned unhappily, shaking his head, — everything seems like some kind of deja vu and only, with some sense of the past. Bryce, tell upstairs that I've been sold a blue marriage.

— And it isn't a marriage at all, Colonel, — the man smiled haughtily, as if hiding something important, and then slammed the file shut.

Miles opened his yellow eyes in bewilderment, and even the general looked questioningly at the RDA representative.

— What does that mean? What do you mean?

— Tell me, Doctor, how long will the recombinant have to be serviced? — Bryce ignored the colonel's questions.

— With injuries like that it will take at least a week, — replied the medic and scratched the back of his head, unsure of his patient, — sir, it is advisable not to disturb him even now...

Bryce squinted, tapping his fingers on his folder, then looked at the general and said confidently:

— We need him tomorrow.

— Tomorrow?! — The doctor's jaw dropped, — but, sir, it's highly irrational, he... He needs rest and treatment...

— Well, now I know why they tied me up! — Miles laughed out loud, — Doc, you didn't want me to blow somebody's face off, did you?

— You have some special remedy for our colonel, don't you? — Bryce went on asking questions, insisting on his point.

— Yes, but you don't understand...

— Wonderful! - he interrupted the doctor with a satisfied smile on his lips," Then you know how to get him back on his feet.

«What are these bitches hiding?».

***

Time was nearing sunset when Laura took off her disposable work robe and tossed it into a small recycling chamber. At the push of a button, not a trace of the artificially created used fabric was left. The day had been impossibly boring, except for a failed morning jog. Couldn't get that wounded recombinant out of my mind. Big and blue and so adorable that Laura couldn't help but worry about him. Every now and then she wondered if he had survived. She hoped for the best, and didn't have the courage to call the Center. And who on earth would report the well-being of an important RDA recom to an ordinary GP? Laura was sure that even such information remained a secret within the walls of the organization. The recombinant program remained inaccessible to most of the staff: none of the rank-and-file knew about its details, only the creators themselves and the upper ranks of specialists. Laura had heard that every employee touched by the program signed a nondisclosure agreement, and leaking information threatened huge fines and prison. But there were even crazier rumors: a rumor had circulated among a large group that one of the scientists had gone missing after management learned of his entries in a personal diary. He was writing down what he was obliged to keep only in his head, and the RDA thought he might have been passing secret information to the ranks of the enemy. When Laura first heard this story, she only wondered to whom this scientist could have revealed secrets if the RDA had no competitors on Earth for thirty years? They were absolute monopolists. Could the scientist be revealing secrets to the Na'vi clans? But what could they possibly know about it? Or perhaps he was secretly collaborating with Jake Sully himself? Whatever the truth was, Laura didn't believe these tales, and only smiled at such stories.

With an unpleasant heavy weight on her soul due to not knowing the fate of the recom, Laura was about to leave the infirmary, but then she was called at the guardhouse. The operator behind the monitors, named Sam, waved, and the therapist immediately walked over to the counter.

— Let me guess, you mean I'm being left on the night shift again? — Laura leaned her head on her side tiredly.

— Pumpkin, what do you think of me! — laughed the red-haired operator in the black uniform, — Do you really think I only intend to bring you bad news?

— Why? — Asadi stretched out and laughed in response, — it's not bad news at all, I love my job and my patients, it's just that only robots can have no rest.

— I know, I know, you try harder than anyone else, — Sam said as he patted the girl's hair, which fell in a wavy mop of long dark strands to one side as Laura habitually tucked it back and to the side.

— Oh, you sly fox,— she scowled playfully, — just to flatter.

— And you're wrong, not flattery at all, — the guy pulled out of his jacket pocket almost transparent card, handing it directly into the hands of his partner — a name pass of the first level. Passed a few minutes ago. But don't flatter yourself, it's disposable.

Laura opened her eyes in amazement. She twirled the card several times, as if to verify its authenticity. Such passes were issued only to personnel from the RDA Center: scientists, engineers, programmers, elite military and directors. She looked questioningly at Sam, who was smiling, genuinely pleased with her reaction.

— Yeah, yeah, it's right up there. They said the management wants to see you today.

— They did? But... why? — Laura panicked, feeling her cheeks redden as her blood pressure soared — oh God, did I do something wrong? Did I kill the patient? That's right, I killed him!

Sam laughed, throwing his head back and grabbing his stomach.

— Baby, come on, calm down! It's just a request to appear in front of your superiors. Maybe they want to promote you.

— Sam! Promotion? You... — Laura looked at the chart, — Jonathan Bryce? That's the kind of authority given to our chief medical officer so he doesn't have to bother the top for no reason.

— Well, then the head doctor can fire you too, why would Bryce have to write you a pass like that and call you in to see him? — The guard barely calmed down, wiping away the tears that came out of laughter, — God, pumpkin, you're just a miracle, you made my day more fun, I love you...

Laura put her palm to her forehead, herself barely restraining a laugh from her silly reaction. But at times like this, when excitement overwhelmed her, she couldn't help herself. Laura possessed concentration and vigilance only in her work, because she understood that she could not make mistakes as a professional. But in life, this philosophy did not apply.

— I'm sorry, Sam, I... I sometimes lose control... — the therapist took a deep breath and exhaled, looking at the pass again. — It says the time. That's in about twenty minutes. I wonder why I'm being summoned.

— Let's go for a ride, and we'll find out together? — Sam smiled slyly, taking the backpack from the girl and slinging it over his shoulder.

— Are you on a motorcycle? — Laura pressed the pass to her chest.

— That's right, miss!

— That's good, sir! I love the speed!

***

The tailwind blew Laura's curls as she made her way to the main RDA building. Sam was accelerating faster and faster on his motorcycle, and she held him tightly by the waist as she watched the neon lights of the city. On the road, she only wondered why this building was farther away than the others. Almost at the edge of the city towered a tall gate of solid steel, shutting out whatever was going on there from the gawkers. The area looked more like a secret military training ground than a haven for scientists and business directors: endless hangars, armored vehicles, men in uniform, and fighter planes on the roofs. The area was constantly patrolled by guards armed to the teeth. No one could enter the area without a pass, which made Laura uncomfortable. She, a rank-and-file general practitioner, was suddenly given that pass.

«I hope me don't get fired» — the girl thought, resting her chin on Sam's shoulder and looking hopefully ahead at the road. And when the gates of the main building appeared on the horizon, she craned her neck in curiosity and felt her knees tremble.

Sam stopped the motorcycle just inside the security barrier that separated them from the entrance to the compound, ten meters away. The automatic metal detector emitted a distinctive beep, scanning the arrivals with a bright red stripe from bottom to top. Laura pressed her lips together uncertainly, pulling out her precious security badge. Several guards approached with machine guns. One, pointing a machine gun, walked around the arrivals as if looking for something suspicious.

— Good evening, what can we do for you? — one of the men asked, tall, pumped up and tattooed.

— Hello, delivering a guest to Mr. Jonathan Bryce, — Sam smiled friendly, nodding at the passenger in the back.

Laura felt a little uncomfortable holding out her pass to the guard. The man looked at the card, then at her, twisting it in his fingers with disbelief.

— Laura-Anastasia Asadi? — he asked in a clarifying manner to

— Yes, sir...

The second gunman's walkie-talkie crackled and he asked into the microphone:

— This is the central station speaking. Requesting validity of badge twelve thirty — two for time twenty-one zero zero. Do you copy?

— I confirm it's up to date, — a soft, female voice answered, — Let through.

Laura bit her lip with the excitement that overwhelmed her trembling soul. She looked ahead at the massive gate, imagining what everything looked like there, for she had never had to be here before. Curiosity scrambled like cats. And the guard lowered his weapon and only nodded his head forward, letting his guest through. Sam wanted to follow, leaving the bike with the guard, but he was immediately stopped by a hand.

— You can't. No pass, — the tattooed man said.

— And who's going to show her where to go? — Sam with a wave of his hands.

— Go to the gate, miss, — the guard turned to Laura, — they'll meet you there and escort you to your office.

Asadi nodded obediently and, after saying goodbye to Sam who winked at her, moved toward the gate. There she was met by a second group of guards and a screening system. She was asked to have her fingerprints and retina scanned. The access card was told to be kept until she left the building, and after that it would no longer be valid.

Laura was finally led onto the grounds. She opened her mouth in amazement, convinced she was right. A veritable military training ground. Armored vehicles, fighters, robot mechanics, and people in uniform. Several soldiers passed by in three-meter-long exoskeleton suits, raising a column of gravel dust into the air. The therapist coughed, brushing the dust off her face.

«Wow!» — she wondered.

— Miss Asadi? — A woman's voice was heard from behind, and the girl turned around to see a servicewoman in outfit.

— Huh? Yes, it's me... — Laura was confused.

— Come on, I'll accompany you to the boss's office. He's already waiting for you. Is this your first time here?

— Yes, I've never visited this building before. Tell me, why are there so many military men here? — Laura was curious, looking around with the gaze of a keen tourist.

— The war, — answered the girl briefly. — Several new regiments and units have arrived.

— Is it really that bad?

— Miss Asadie, the military is not just here to perform its direct tasks. We employ hundreds of men every day for various jobs. You don't have to worry, everything's under control.

«I want to believe it» — Laura thought, wrapping her arm tentatively around herself.

It was harder to breathe in here. There was so much dust and mechanical odor in the air that her throat became dry. With every step she took, she swallowed a lump across her throat and coughed. It seemed that the mask wasn't enough. But once inside, Asadi forgot all about air: the mask could finally be removed. Bright holograms dazzled her eyes. A group of operators was working on something, even though there were many people in military uniforms in the main hall. The monitors glowed with numerous scans of the terrain: soaring mountains, the sea, and some parts of the forested area. Laura turned her attention to the image of fallen centuries-old trees engulfed in flames. They must have been blown down quite recently by volleys of missiles. The girl casually shuddered.

— Sector Five, attention, deal with a herd of direhorse. The distance is six meters, we need a clear path to the mines, — one of the operators muttered lazily into his earpiece.

— They're really close, — the other smiled and shook his head, — I guess they're used to it.

— If the second shift stops feeding them, there won't be a problem.

— We'd better put it in the report, see if it helps.

Laura, stopping behind the cameramen, stared into the monitor where the image of the horses was transmitted and smiled as she watched several cubs frolicking beside the road. She didn't even notice the servicewoman walk to the elevator and call out to her several times.

— Please keep up, Miss Asadi, it's easy to get lost here, — the uniformed conductor warned as she pressed the button for the top floor.

Laura felt the familiar excitement again, only now, on top of everything else, her heart was jumping out of her chest: she could hear it pounding in her ears. To calm herself down, she had to take a bottle of water out of her backpack and take a few sips, but it was in vain - the water had time to heat up and was not tasty. Laura relied on her self-control, so as not to look like a pathetic, intimidated rabbit to her superiors. A long corridor, wide windows of offices and people in business clothes. Now she felt herself outside the military training ground. The top floor turned out to be exactly what she imagined the entire building to be.

— We're here, Miss Asadi, Mr. Bryce is waiting for you, — the girl guide stopped at the main translucent door, where you could see several people: one in a black suit, another in a military uniform.

Laura straightened her back and cleared her throat, nervously adjusting her loose curls. Her cheeks lit up with a treacherous blush. She couldn't hide her excitement; she always had a hard time with any lie.

— Thank you for seeing her off, — the therapist said.

— You're welcome. Come in, don't be shy, — the military woman opened the door, inviting her guest in.

Laura entered the office. Attention was immediately drawn to her. Jonathan Bryce turned around at the sound of the doors opening and immediately smiled when he saw the girl. Standing next to him, General Ardmore folded her arms across her chest.

— So you are Miss Asadi? — asked the head administrator and invited the guest to sit down.

— Yes, Mr. Bryce, I'm a general practitioner, I work in the city clinic, — Laura modestly squared her shoulders and sat down in a cushioned chair. She suddenly felt dirty and clumsy, as if a homeless person had been brought into a rich house.

— I remember you on the first day of your stay, you arrived as part of the third crew, didn't you? Serviced the frozen staff? — The Generaless stepped back to the window, observing what was going on outside.

— That's right, — Laura quickly mumbled with excitement and only then realized that this was the answer of the soldiers, but the generaless apparently found it amusing: she smiled at her succinct military answer along with Bryce. — I was twenty when I was accepted into the program, and I was twenty-five when the ship arrived on Pandora.

— I'm still new here and had no idea there were precious diamonds on the staff. A young beautiful girl, and a talented therapist too! — Jonathan splashed his hands in admiration and went to the coffee machine with three cups. — Not many people at such a young age are able to achieve intergalactic flight... Tell me, what is your secret?

Laura was confused at the question, ran her eyes around and answered tensely:

— I just got lucky... When I applied, I didn't count on anything at all, but I heard that the RDAs prefer young professionals, those who can work hard and diligently, and those who are far away from retirement...

— You really are a long way from her, — laughed the General, and Laura smiled modestly, dropping her gaze to the floor. — You're good. Mr. Bryce, you don't know yet, but this girl has already proved herself. When there was an accident on board, thanks to Miss Asadi's ingenuity, she managed to keep the frozen in their original state. She manually kept the capsules at the correct temperature for several hours while the damage was repaired. Had it not been for her idea with the tubes and the pump, we would have lost people.

— Thanks, but I was just doing my duty and listening to the head doctor, — Laura couldn't hold back a modest smile, she wasn't often praised by such big men as four-star General Francis Ardmore.

— Look at you, shy, too! — Bryce put a cup of hot coffee on the table in front of the guests. — Miss Asadi, you shouldn't be modest, you should be proud of your success and talent! After all, we invited you to express our sincere gratitude to you personally for not allowing our recombinant to perish.

Laura looked up, full of hope at the chief administrator.

— Had he survived? Is he all right?

— Thanks to your vigilance. A few more minutes and we would have lost him.

— Wow... — Laura whispered faintly to herself, tucking the unruly curls behind her ears and sighing in relief. — And I thought you were going to fire me...

— No, miss, — Bryce shook his head, taking a sip from his mug of coffee drink, — it's specialists like you that the RDA needs. Right now the ten-mile bridgehead has two million inhabitants. Most of them are military personnel, medics, scientists and engineers. But very soon, thanks to people like you and me, the city will blossom.

— You will help us to do it, won't you? - The general winked at the visitor from under her cap.

Laura smiled:

— With what I can, of course...

— Sure you can, — Bryce reached into his desk locker, pulled out another pass card, and placed it in front of the therapist. — To thank you for saving our precious recombinant, I invite you to a business dinner. There won't be many guests, but I'll introduce you to our leading scientists and specialists. We will decide where to place you, closer to the main control center.

Asadi's jaw dropped. She took the ID card with trembling fingers and clapped her eyes in amazement. It was too sudden. The unexpectedness struck at the heart, making her mentally tremble and rejoice, and outwardly just sit in a stupor at such a generous invitation from the chief administrator. She had never been to a social event before, especially to meet the cream of society. And the cream of society on Pandora was considered to be the famous talented scientists, military men, and engineers. It was an honor for Laura to meet them. It seemed as if a captivating dream had plunged her into a reverie.

— Mr. Bryce, thank you, that's... Thank you, Mr. Bryce, I would be honored to accept such an invitation... — ...Laura repeated the boss's name several times with excitement.

— We'll bring the car to your place of residence. And to make it less exciting for you, this pass can be used by two people, take someone with you to make it safer, — said General Ardmore, putting a reassuring hand on the girl's shoulder.

Laura smiled through tears of undisguised joy.

— Thank you, thank you very much...

***

— Not a bad girl, — the general stated as she and the administrator descended into the catacomb system beneath the RDA main building. A spiral metal staircase stretched down four meters, illuminated by wall-mounted neon lights. The air here was cold and musty, with a touch of medication: an unpleasant but harmless bitterness lodged in my throat.

Bryce followed the general downstairs, grabbing a protective, see-through jumpsuit with black gloves from a rack and pulling it over his business suit.

— Funny, it made me smile. I can't remember the last time someone lifted my spirits...

— Is that why you invited her to dinner, so she could keep... to keep you amused?

— I just wanted to thank for saving the colonel, that's all. I didn't expect to see such a pretty girl in the GP ranks. I'd have to go to that clinic and see if I'd be surprised.

— You can't put your finger in your mouth, Jonathan...

— I can't resist a young exotic! — Bryce laughed as he followed the general down the narrow corridor.

At the end was a massive iron door, more like a bank vault door. Inside, under the bright lights, among the chemicals and medical equipment, a group of scientists in protective, see-through jumpsuits and masks labored, observing the subjects and their reactions. Desperate cries echoed through the lab from the sealed chamber. Jonathan opened his mouth in amazement as he walked around the side of the chamber, standing in front of a thick armored window in the floor.

— Is this exactly what you told me about? — the receptionist asked with admiration.

— Yes, sir. We're still just at the beginning stage, but I think by the end of the week we'll have a result that will satisfy us.

— And we can start the cleanup as early as next week? Are you sure about that?

— Absolutely, — said one of the scientists, who approached the administrator and extended his hand in a friendly black rubber glove.

Jonathan shook the man's hand and, clearing his throat, asked:

— What exactly did you come up with? So far all I can see is a squirming blue primate. And, I don't get it, is that our recom?

— Retired, sir, — the general clarified. — One of the surviving recoms from Quaritch's group. Arrived at the base a couple of hours before the colonel. Failed, but will be able to serve in a different way now.

— On the basis of a neurotoxin, which is used by local humanoids, we managed to develop a unique powder mixture, — began to explain the scientist, not paying attention to the cries of the experimenter. — The spraying range of this crystalline substance may be small — five meters, if you wish — but the result will not disappoint you. Besides, the poisoning affects not only the fauna, but also the flora, which is consumed by the na'vi.

Lieutenant Lyle Wainfleet clenched his fists to the point of pain, trying to break free of the steel shackles. The collars around his ankles, hands, and neck squeezed his flesh tightly, preventing him from moving even a couple of centimeters. His blue naked body shuddered now and then in spasms of unbearable pain. The only thing left was to cry out desperately, hoping that at least someone would hear him from above and help him out of his torment. But the torture continued. The white gas came from the pipe every five minutes with an increased dosage.

— I'll kill you scum! I'll kill you! — Lyle screamed, baring bloody fangs like a hunted predator.

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