'awsiteng
Title: 'awsiteng, part 1/?
Author: _ryouseiteki_
Rating: Uh, Pg-14 for the reality of fights involving guns?
Word count: 2,929
Characters: Tiny bit of Jake but mostly Norm Spellman and it's a surprise!
Warnings: Na'vi and humans both getting killed in battle, dealing with gunshot wounds
Summary: Norm's part in the na'vi vs RDA battle; some novelization recap of what we see of him in the movie and a continuation from when the film breaks off to follow Jake
Disclaimer: Characters belong to James Cameron and 20th Century Fox, no profit is being made from this work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this story are fictitious products of the fan-writer’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblances to persons living or dead are entirely coincidental.
A/N: I haven't written anything since May so I'm a bit rusty, also I tend to get wordy. Not beta'd so if you find any mistakes in spelling or grammar, or if something just jumps out at you that bugs you that you think might flow better if worded differently by all means let me know, I'd greatly appreciate any help or suggestions. :)
Key: 'thought,' "speech," "speech in na'vi"
The mechanical report of rapid gunfire and the distinct grind of amp suits was sharp over the more organic tearing of brush and the sickening impact of flesh meeting earth, those sounds interspersed with bestial screams of challenge and the moans of the dying. The forest had been turned into a battleground. Human military of the highest caliber, armed with deadly technology, versus the stubborn na’vi in a faceoff of epic proportions.
Norm Spellman was terrified. Having trained and studied for five years to pilot an AVTR body of his very own in order to be at the forefront of the wealth of biological discoveries that the planet Pandora had to offer had in no way prepared him to charge into battle alongside hundreds of the indigenous population that had been the major subject of his research.
He was not like Jake Sully, he wasn’t athletic and had never done much more than take the short walk between labs or pick up is pen. Although his hybrid body was fit, stronger, and more flexible than his human body, he had yet to do anything more strenuous than jog after Jake when the man ran off after their first transference. The ex-marine may not have exercised as religiously since he lost the use of his legs, but it seemed that he kept himself in shape otherwise, and with how quickly the colonel took to his AVTR it was obvious that he’d be able to get back into the groove of working out easily enough.
Norm on the other hand was more of what one might call a “science dork.” He had never seen a live horse in his life, much less ridden one, and here he was in his AVTR body, his thighs tight around the barrel of a pa’li like he had been born to it. Rushing headlong into the line of humans under fire while collared comfortably in a radio and surrounded by the very same na’vi that had so fascinated him during his studies, an M60 in hand and a snarl on his face, the growl rumbling deep in his throat impossible to achieve in his human body.
He was terrified, and he had never felt more alive.
He fired his gun as the na’vi next to him fell with a pained yelp, her mount making a terrible screech at their disconnection. The shock of rebound jarred up his arm, making his joints ache at the elbow and shoulder. He did his best to ignore it, feeling a grim triumph as one of his shots flew true and pierced one of his enemies. Hard to believe he was fighting against his own kind, but if he was honest with himself, his defection from the human race had started when he was but a child, mesmerized by a holo of a magical planet named Pandora.
His heart pounded in his ears, a strange double-beat due to his tsahaylu with the pa’li. He’d read up on the speculation of course; even had a few theories of his own over the course of his studies. It never is like the real thing though, is it? Like Jake’s first attempt, it was all Norm could do to stay on the beast. But he had been briefed on a crash course of direhorse riding lessons and was expected to remember everything and, well… he always did perform best under pressure. Thankfully, herd mentality more than anything kept his valiant steed on par with the other na’vi.
As more and more of his allies fell to gunfire around him he was struck by doubt - they’d never be able to break the line. His hesitation made his pa’li stutter, the reduced speed making him an easy mark, and the next thing Norm knew was a searing pain in his chest and a horrid keening that echoed queerly in his skull. He had the sensation of falling and then a sharp tug at the back of his neck before he hit the ground, the pain in his chest suspiciously absent and his head surprisingly empty. He scrambled to his feet, yelling a retreat and running the way they had come, trying to put trees between him and the humans gunning them down.
He found himself holding a hand gingerly against his chest as he ran, as if protecting a wound were there was none, and thought, ‘the pa’li must have been shot, it’s true. It’s true. The tsahaylu is real. It’s really real. An actual-‘ he yelped as a shot flew by his head, jerking to the side in surprise. He cursed, putting a bit of zig-zagging into his sprint. He radioed Jake about their retreat, trying not to pant too hard against the receiver.
Na’vi passed him on pa’li, some of them sporting two passengers, some of the pa’li rider-less. One ran by close enough for him to reach out and touch, and not 5 meters ahead of him was shot, its rider falling to the ground with a startled grunt not unlike he had earlier. He found himself pivoting in front of the dazed na’vi, recklessly vulnerable as he fired at the humans, giving the winded warrior time enough to recover so they both escape.
Twin lances of fire ripped through his shoulder in quick succession and he choked on a cry. Knocked backwards he landed on the exit wounds, gasping painfully for air and focusing on not losing the connection between his human body and his AVTR, the trauma enough to cause an instinctive cancellation of the fragile link.
Darkness.
His eyes flew open and he shoved at the cover of his cell in a panic, struggling to breathe past the lump in his throat. The machine opened much too slowly for him and instead of waiting for enough space to sit up he rolled out of the controller, landing gracelessly in a heap on the cold metal of the floor. His head and shoulder throbbed mercilessly and he clawed at his shirt, desperate to make certain that he didn’t have any life threatening holes blasted through his body.
There was a soft beeping issuing from the monitor next to his pod, the screen tinged an urgent red, its last scans from him indicating worryingly elevated levels of adrenaline and endorphins. He pulled himself to his feet using the table, feeling embarrassingly weak, and smacked his shaking palm to the screen incoordinately several times until he managed to hit the right key to shut off the warning alarm.
He stood for a moment, breathing hard, trying to get his bearings. Running a trembling hand through his hair, he sighed explosively and lurched across the room, intent on grabbing a few supplies before heading out to rejoin the fray. He refused to sit quietly and wait for the end. Disoriented, he almost fell flat on his face as soon as he let go of the table and had to lean heavily against his now reclosed pod. “Whoa. No tail, right,” he found himself muttering. Moving slowly this time, he grabbed an exopack and stuck a Wasp into his belt, pocketing a few clips of ammo.
Turning to leave, another warning alarm went off and he flipped back around in a panic. It was only Jake’s monitor however, showing his friend’s similarly raised levels of chemicals caused by his human body reacting to the battle he fought in his AVTR.
“Oh man, I gotta tell Jake,” he said to himself. Without a radio he had no way of contacting him though, meaning… he’d have to search for his fallen AVTR - whether or not it had survived its wounds. He glanced out the window, biting his lip in thought. Being on the front lines of the ground battalion meant that he had a ways to travel to get to where he had left his hybrid body, and not get eaten or killed by either humans or na’vi on the way there. But… it wouldn’t be that different from what he had planned to do anyway aside from the direction.
Mind made up, he hastily crouched down and rummaged through the cabinets for an advanced med kit. If his AVTR body was still kicking when - he refused to think ‘if’ - he found it, the kit would come in handy. He fixed his oxygen mask, face set with determination, shouldered his pack and grabbed a second Wasp, leaving the first tucked safely in the waistband of his pants as a backup. He waited impatiently in the pressurized chamber for the cabin to seal air tight to keep Jake from Pandora’s noxious fumes and when the green light came on he leapt out of the relative safety of the small metal box he had started thinking of as ‘home.’
As he tripped his way through the forest, Wasp held so tightly his knuckles stood out a stark white, Norm was astounded at the difference in how he perceived his surroundings. When in his AVTR body he never really noticed before just how much he relied on his improved senses, but now, without them, he distinctly felt the lack. The sounds of the forest, which had actually been somewhat comforting to his hybrid body, gave the atmosphere a sinister impression to his human senses. Harmless plants that had come barely to his waist now stood almost to his shoulder, their mere size making them feel threatening. And simple objects that he merely had to step over in dim lighting now seemed an impossible obstacle course to maneuver in the dark.
Eventually, the muted screams of ikran and the pepper of gunfire filled the air and he glanced up instinctively to try to catch a glimpse of the majestic creatures and their riders in combat with AT-99s. Obviously, the canopy blocked any view he might have had to warn him of falling machinery or corpses and he shuddered involuntarily as an explosion went off somewhere in the distance. He hurried on his way, wanting to distance himself from the battle out of his reach and towards his goal, the presence above reassuring him that he was on the right track.
Not a half hour after he last heard the cacophony of the fighting in the sky, he heard a shuffling in the underbrush nearby. He froze, Wasp immediately pointed towards the sound. Norm tried to regulate his breathing. Facing the monsters of Pandora was scary enough in his AVTR, he was having a hard time staying on his feet at having to face one in his frailer, human body - practically weaker than a child due to the natural deterioration an AVTR driver goes through due to their profession.
He caught a dazzling glimpse of speckled purple and black between the leaves of an eyayu, and hesitated. He couldn’t think of a ground, forest predator with those colors. A low, desperate crooning reached his ears and he cursed his curiosity as he cautiously approached the sound. Stepping warily around the fern-like warbonnet, Wasp still at the ready though pointed at the ground, Norm bit back an exclamation as a startled ikran twisted towards him with a kettle hiss of warning, flaring its wings in a defensive display.
Norm had never seen one of the mountain banshees close up before. Heck, he hadn’t really seen one from afar either. As a human, the creature seemed almost larger than life; its gorgeous colors making it stand out from the dark blues, greens, and browns of the surrounding forest. He couldn’t bring himself to point his gun at the beast, knowing it was the favored mount of the omatikaya, and lowered his weapon further, making sure not to make eye contact. He hoped that he could back away slowly without incensing the thing to attack him.
At his submissive motions the ikran folded its wings with a low, almost pained warble, lying down with a monstrous breath that was almost a sigh. Against common sense Norm took a step closer at the sound, concerned despite himself. When it made no move to jump back up and attack him for his audacity at moving towards it, he tip toed even closer, fascination overriding his terror. He ran a practiced eye over the creature, berating himself as he did so - even if the thing was injured there was little he could do for the large beast, and he still had to go find his AVTR… why was he even wasting his time on-
He blinked.
Under the ikran’s massive head… was that…? Was that a blue arm?
His thoughts raced. If that was a na’vi, and with the way the ikran was acting, it was probably the banshee’s rider. Since the banshee was hanging around, the na’vi was probably still alive though unconscious. Possibly injured? Norm briefly lamented his own hybrid body lying similarly unconscious somewhere out there as he quickly and decisively threw out his initial plan of searching for it in favor of helping the na’vi in front of him.
“Maway,” he said softly to the ikran, the word causing a small puff of fog at the front of his mask, “maway.” He sidled closer, slowly clicking on the safety before sliding the second Wasp into the back of his pants. The ikran eyed him balefully but made no move to rise. “Maway ikran,” he paused mere feet from the giant head full of razor sharp teeth, grimacing. He had to get the banshee to move its head so that he could tend to its rider - if it was possible for him to help, anyway. For all he knew the hunter might be too badly injured to save with a mere med kit.
‘At least I brought the advanced one,’ he thought to himself, strangling a hysterical giggle that threatened to burst from his lungs. He cleared his throat, avoiding the banshee’s gaze by staring pointedly at the ground under it. “Can you move your head for me, please?” he asked politely in na’vi, forgoing formalities in order to cut down on wasting time that could be used saving a life. He could feel the ikran unblinkingly glaring holes into him, it didn’t move a muscle.
Neither did he.
“You have to move if I’m to be of any use, really.” He continued persuasively, “I want to help your friend, only…” he swallowed thickly, working up some courage. His line of sight flickered upwards, focused on the alien eyes targeting him, locked. “Only I can’t help them if you won’t let me.” He said firmly, refusing to let his voice waver. The ikran abruptly tensed, raising its head on the thin, serpent-like neck with a hiss, lips curling back from dagger fangs the length of his forearm. Norm felt sweat bead on his brow but didn’t defer, staring down the beast that could almost swallow him whole if it so chose. It flapped its mighty wings in order to sit up, and Norm tensed, wondering if these were his last moments.
He continued holding the banshee’s gaze for a few seconds longer, and when no killing blow came - despite the creature’s angry hisses - he took the final few steps towards it and knelt beside the revealed na’vi. His injuries were obvious, he had three gunshot wounds on his right-hand side, all bleeding sluggishly. Shrugging off the med kit, Norm glanced curiously at the face of his patient as his hands automatically busied themselves with pulling out the supplies he’d need to deal with this particular injury.
His eyes widened, hands stilling in surprise. He might not have had any actual dealings with the omatikaya or the other clans aside from riding beside them into battle, but he had been there when Grace tutored Jake that first morning after the lucky bastard got accepted into the kelutrel, and he wouldn’t have gotten as far as he had without an exceptional memory. He breathed out the name quietly in disbelief.
“Tsu’tey…”
TBC
Na'vi Vocabulary
'awsiteng = together
pa'li = direhorse
tsahaylu = bond
ikran = mountain banshee
eyayu = warbonnet
maway = calm
omatikaya = blue flute clan
kelutrel = hometree
Weaponry
AMP suit = MK-6 Amplified Mobility Platform
M60 = M60 Machine Gun (fires a 7.62mm full metal jacket bullet)
Wasp = RDA standard sidearm
AT-99 = AT-99 "Scorpion" Gunship
Other Vocabulary
AVTR = annotation for avatar or the avatar program
exopack = breathing apparatus
Author: _ryouseiteki_
Rating: Uh, Pg-14 for the reality of fights involving guns?
Word count: 2,929
Characters: Tiny bit of Jake but mostly Norm Spellman and it's a surprise!
Warnings: Na'vi and humans both getting killed in battle, dealing with gunshot wounds
Summary: Norm's part in the na'vi vs RDA battle; some novelization recap of what we see of him in the movie and a continuation from when the film breaks off to follow Jake
Disclaimer: Characters belong to James Cameron and 20th Century Fox, no profit is being made from this work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this story are fictitious products of the fan-writer’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblances to persons living or dead are entirely coincidental.
A/N: I haven't written anything since May so I'm a bit rusty, also I tend to get wordy. Not beta'd so if you find any mistakes in spelling or grammar, or if something just jumps out at you that bugs you that you think might flow better if worded differently by all means let me know, I'd greatly appreciate any help or suggestions. :)
Key: 'thought,' "speech," "speech in na'vi"
The mechanical report of rapid gunfire and the distinct grind of amp suits was sharp over the more organic tearing of brush and the sickening impact of flesh meeting earth, those sounds interspersed with bestial screams of challenge and the moans of the dying. The forest had been turned into a battleground. Human military of the highest caliber, armed with deadly technology, versus the stubborn na’vi in a faceoff of epic proportions.
Norm Spellman was terrified. Having trained and studied for five years to pilot an AVTR body of his very own in order to be at the forefront of the wealth of biological discoveries that the planet Pandora had to offer had in no way prepared him to charge into battle alongside hundreds of the indigenous population that had been the major subject of his research.
He was not like Jake Sully, he wasn’t athletic and had never done much more than take the short walk between labs or pick up is pen. Although his hybrid body was fit, stronger, and more flexible than his human body, he had yet to do anything more strenuous than jog after Jake when the man ran off after their first transference. The ex-marine may not have exercised as religiously since he lost the use of his legs, but it seemed that he kept himself in shape otherwise, and with how quickly the colonel took to his AVTR it was obvious that he’d be able to get back into the groove of working out easily enough.
Norm on the other hand was more of what one might call a “science dork.” He had never seen a live horse in his life, much less ridden one, and here he was in his AVTR body, his thighs tight around the barrel of a pa’li like he had been born to it. Rushing headlong into the line of humans under fire while collared comfortably in a radio and surrounded by the very same na’vi that had so fascinated him during his studies, an M60 in hand and a snarl on his face, the growl rumbling deep in his throat impossible to achieve in his human body.
He was terrified, and he had never felt more alive.
He fired his gun as the na’vi next to him fell with a pained yelp, her mount making a terrible screech at their disconnection. The shock of rebound jarred up his arm, making his joints ache at the elbow and shoulder. He did his best to ignore it, feeling a grim triumph as one of his shots flew true and pierced one of his enemies. Hard to believe he was fighting against his own kind, but if he was honest with himself, his defection from the human race had started when he was but a child, mesmerized by a holo of a magical planet named Pandora.
His heart pounded in his ears, a strange double-beat due to his tsahaylu with the pa’li. He’d read up on the speculation of course; even had a few theories of his own over the course of his studies. It never is like the real thing though, is it? Like Jake’s first attempt, it was all Norm could do to stay on the beast. But he had been briefed on a crash course of direhorse riding lessons and was expected to remember everything and, well… he always did perform best under pressure. Thankfully, herd mentality more than anything kept his valiant steed on par with the other na’vi.
As more and more of his allies fell to gunfire around him he was struck by doubt - they’d never be able to break the line. His hesitation made his pa’li stutter, the reduced speed making him an easy mark, and the next thing Norm knew was a searing pain in his chest and a horrid keening that echoed queerly in his skull. He had the sensation of falling and then a sharp tug at the back of his neck before he hit the ground, the pain in his chest suspiciously absent and his head surprisingly empty. He scrambled to his feet, yelling a retreat and running the way they had come, trying to put trees between him and the humans gunning them down.
He found himself holding a hand gingerly against his chest as he ran, as if protecting a wound were there was none, and thought, ‘the pa’li must have been shot, it’s true. It’s true. The tsahaylu is real. It’s really real. An actual-‘ he yelped as a shot flew by his head, jerking to the side in surprise. He cursed, putting a bit of zig-zagging into his sprint. He radioed Jake about their retreat, trying not to pant too hard against the receiver.
Na’vi passed him on pa’li, some of them sporting two passengers, some of the pa’li rider-less. One ran by close enough for him to reach out and touch, and not 5 meters ahead of him was shot, its rider falling to the ground with a startled grunt not unlike he had earlier. He found himself pivoting in front of the dazed na’vi, recklessly vulnerable as he fired at the humans, giving the winded warrior time enough to recover so they both escape.
Twin lances of fire ripped through his shoulder in quick succession and he choked on a cry. Knocked backwards he landed on the exit wounds, gasping painfully for air and focusing on not losing the connection between his human body and his AVTR, the trauma enough to cause an instinctive cancellation of the fragile link.
Darkness.
His eyes flew open and he shoved at the cover of his cell in a panic, struggling to breathe past the lump in his throat. The machine opened much too slowly for him and instead of waiting for enough space to sit up he rolled out of the controller, landing gracelessly in a heap on the cold metal of the floor. His head and shoulder throbbed mercilessly and he clawed at his shirt, desperate to make certain that he didn’t have any life threatening holes blasted through his body.
There was a soft beeping issuing from the monitor next to his pod, the screen tinged an urgent red, its last scans from him indicating worryingly elevated levels of adrenaline and endorphins. He pulled himself to his feet using the table, feeling embarrassingly weak, and smacked his shaking palm to the screen incoordinately several times until he managed to hit the right key to shut off the warning alarm.
He stood for a moment, breathing hard, trying to get his bearings. Running a trembling hand through his hair, he sighed explosively and lurched across the room, intent on grabbing a few supplies before heading out to rejoin the fray. He refused to sit quietly and wait for the end. Disoriented, he almost fell flat on his face as soon as he let go of the table and had to lean heavily against his now reclosed pod. “Whoa. No tail, right,” he found himself muttering. Moving slowly this time, he grabbed an exopack and stuck a Wasp into his belt, pocketing a few clips of ammo.
Turning to leave, another warning alarm went off and he flipped back around in a panic. It was only Jake’s monitor however, showing his friend’s similarly raised levels of chemicals caused by his human body reacting to the battle he fought in his AVTR.
“Oh man, I gotta tell Jake,” he said to himself. Without a radio he had no way of contacting him though, meaning… he’d have to search for his fallen AVTR - whether or not it had survived its wounds. He glanced out the window, biting his lip in thought. Being on the front lines of the ground battalion meant that he had a ways to travel to get to where he had left his hybrid body, and not get eaten or killed by either humans or na’vi on the way there. But… it wouldn’t be that different from what he had planned to do anyway aside from the direction.
Mind made up, he hastily crouched down and rummaged through the cabinets for an advanced med kit. If his AVTR body was still kicking when - he refused to think ‘if’ - he found it, the kit would come in handy. He fixed his oxygen mask, face set with determination, shouldered his pack and grabbed a second Wasp, leaving the first tucked safely in the waistband of his pants as a backup. He waited impatiently in the pressurized chamber for the cabin to seal air tight to keep Jake from Pandora’s noxious fumes and when the green light came on he leapt out of the relative safety of the small metal box he had started thinking of as ‘home.’
As he tripped his way through the forest, Wasp held so tightly his knuckles stood out a stark white, Norm was astounded at the difference in how he perceived his surroundings. When in his AVTR body he never really noticed before just how much he relied on his improved senses, but now, without them, he distinctly felt the lack. The sounds of the forest, which had actually been somewhat comforting to his hybrid body, gave the atmosphere a sinister impression to his human senses. Harmless plants that had come barely to his waist now stood almost to his shoulder, their mere size making them feel threatening. And simple objects that he merely had to step over in dim lighting now seemed an impossible obstacle course to maneuver in the dark.
Eventually, the muted screams of ikran and the pepper of gunfire filled the air and he glanced up instinctively to try to catch a glimpse of the majestic creatures and their riders in combat with AT-99s. Obviously, the canopy blocked any view he might have had to warn him of falling machinery or corpses and he shuddered involuntarily as an explosion went off somewhere in the distance. He hurried on his way, wanting to distance himself from the battle out of his reach and towards his goal, the presence above reassuring him that he was on the right track.
Not a half hour after he last heard the cacophony of the fighting in the sky, he heard a shuffling in the underbrush nearby. He froze, Wasp immediately pointed towards the sound. Norm tried to regulate his breathing. Facing the monsters of Pandora was scary enough in his AVTR, he was having a hard time staying on his feet at having to face one in his frailer, human body - practically weaker than a child due to the natural deterioration an AVTR driver goes through due to their profession.
He caught a dazzling glimpse of speckled purple and black between the leaves of an eyayu, and hesitated. He couldn’t think of a ground, forest predator with those colors. A low, desperate crooning reached his ears and he cursed his curiosity as he cautiously approached the sound. Stepping warily around the fern-like warbonnet, Wasp still at the ready though pointed at the ground, Norm bit back an exclamation as a startled ikran twisted towards him with a kettle hiss of warning, flaring its wings in a defensive display.
Norm had never seen one of the mountain banshees close up before. Heck, he hadn’t really seen one from afar either. As a human, the creature seemed almost larger than life; its gorgeous colors making it stand out from the dark blues, greens, and browns of the surrounding forest. He couldn’t bring himself to point his gun at the beast, knowing it was the favored mount of the omatikaya, and lowered his weapon further, making sure not to make eye contact. He hoped that he could back away slowly without incensing the thing to attack him.
At his submissive motions the ikran folded its wings with a low, almost pained warble, lying down with a monstrous breath that was almost a sigh. Against common sense Norm took a step closer at the sound, concerned despite himself. When it made no move to jump back up and attack him for his audacity at moving towards it, he tip toed even closer, fascination overriding his terror. He ran a practiced eye over the creature, berating himself as he did so - even if the thing was injured there was little he could do for the large beast, and he still had to go find his AVTR… why was he even wasting his time on-
He blinked.
Under the ikran’s massive head… was that…? Was that a blue arm?
His thoughts raced. If that was a na’vi, and with the way the ikran was acting, it was probably the banshee’s rider. Since the banshee was hanging around, the na’vi was probably still alive though unconscious. Possibly injured? Norm briefly lamented his own hybrid body lying similarly unconscious somewhere out there as he quickly and decisively threw out his initial plan of searching for it in favor of helping the na’vi in front of him.
“Maway,” he said softly to the ikran, the word causing a small puff of fog at the front of his mask, “maway.” He sidled closer, slowly clicking on the safety before sliding the second Wasp into the back of his pants. The ikran eyed him balefully but made no move to rise. “Maway ikran,” he paused mere feet from the giant head full of razor sharp teeth, grimacing. He had to get the banshee to move its head so that he could tend to its rider - if it was possible for him to help, anyway. For all he knew the hunter might be too badly injured to save with a mere med kit.
‘At least I brought the advanced one,’ he thought to himself, strangling a hysterical giggle that threatened to burst from his lungs. He cleared his throat, avoiding the banshee’s gaze by staring pointedly at the ground under it. “Can you move your head for me, please?” he asked politely in na’vi, forgoing formalities in order to cut down on wasting time that could be used saving a life. He could feel the ikran unblinkingly glaring holes into him, it didn’t move a muscle.
Neither did he.
“You have to move if I’m to be of any use, really.” He continued persuasively, “I want to help your friend, only…” he swallowed thickly, working up some courage. His line of sight flickered upwards, focused on the alien eyes targeting him, locked. “Only I can’t help them if you won’t let me.” He said firmly, refusing to let his voice waver. The ikran abruptly tensed, raising its head on the thin, serpent-like neck with a hiss, lips curling back from dagger fangs the length of his forearm. Norm felt sweat bead on his brow but didn’t defer, staring down the beast that could almost swallow him whole if it so chose. It flapped its mighty wings in order to sit up, and Norm tensed, wondering if these were his last moments.
He continued holding the banshee’s gaze for a few seconds longer, and when no killing blow came - despite the creature’s angry hisses - he took the final few steps towards it and knelt beside the revealed na’vi. His injuries were obvious, he had three gunshot wounds on his right-hand side, all bleeding sluggishly. Shrugging off the med kit, Norm glanced curiously at the face of his patient as his hands automatically busied themselves with pulling out the supplies he’d need to deal with this particular injury.
His eyes widened, hands stilling in surprise. He might not have had any actual dealings with the omatikaya or the other clans aside from riding beside them into battle, but he had been there when Grace tutored Jake that first morning after the lucky bastard got accepted into the kelutrel, and he wouldn’t have gotten as far as he had without an exceptional memory. He breathed out the name quietly in disbelief.
“Tsu’tey…”
TBC
Na'vi Vocabulary
'awsiteng = together
pa'li = direhorse
tsahaylu = bond
ikran = mountain banshee
eyayu = warbonnet
maway = calm
omatikaya = blue flute clan
kelutrel = hometree
Weaponry
AMP suit = MK-6 Amplified Mobility Platform
M60 = M60 Machine Gun (fires a 7.62mm full metal jacket bullet)
Wasp = RDA standard sidearm
AT-99 = AT-99 "Scorpion" Gunship
Other Vocabulary
AVTR = annotation for avatar or the avatar program
exopack = breathing apparatus