Chapter Text
It had only been 5 minutes. 5 minutes of flying. 5 minute of trying to comprehend that everything was done for. The natives’ homeland was gone for ever. They didn’t really… belong anywhere else.
At the moment, the count of surviving, flying Navi was about 22. 15 Mangkwan, 7 recoms, and one human. Their flock of birds kept treading through the skies, heading in the direction that Quaritch had demanded— the forest. Varang’s arms were protective around her children as J’ekru glided overpass land. Every few seconds, she would turn her head back, large, scared eyes searching for her husband. But she wasn’t able to spot him in the herd of squawking Ikran.
“Is Dad dead?” Zaylem finally spit out, “I was so mean to him…”
“No. No your father is not dead. He cannot be. He is… he is your father.” Varang spoke in a way that screamed disbelief. Wet tears washed lined down her ashed face, revealing her true colored body below.
Reym dug the back of her head into her brother’s chest, sobbing loudly out of pure terror. Zaylem flinched from the aching sensation in his body, yet, he let his sister let her emotion out.
“Keep heading to the forest!” A voice from behind the group shouted. It was the father of two. The colonel. It was Miles Quaritch.
“Miles!” Varang demanded her bird to slow his speed to meet halfway with her fast paced husband. “Oh my God…”
“I’m here,” the man pulled up beside the mother, reaching out and placing a grounding, but easy hand over her shoulder. The touch caused Varang to break down even more, shoulders curling inwards as her body shook violently. J’ekru roared from the neuroconnetion with his rider’s emotion changing.
Quaritch then focused his attention to his two children, “kiddos…” his voice was sorrowful— and upon seeing his son’s exhaustion and agony, he wanted to throw up. “Zaylem.”
“I’m sorry…” the boy sniffled, “I’m sorry…! I don’t hate you, Dad…” the silent feelings running through the boy’s body soon turned into a verbal, harsh one as he was now sobbing outwardly. Quaritch quickly learn from Cupcake’s back to cup his son’s wet cheek.
“Don’t say sorry.” He muttered, “I knew all along that you never meant those words.”
Zaylem hiccuped, growing into his father’s touch. The feeling had never felt so comforting before. He wasn’t all ‘big and bad colonel’. He was just… a father.
Then, Quaritch locked to his crying daughter. Even though Daddy was here, she still struggled to calm herself. So, the man urged Cupcake forwards slightly and assisted her with switching birds. The girl was quick to jump into her father’s chest, crying into his skin as if he would protect her from anything. That was his goal… but he wasn’t sure how affective he be. Especially with their situation.
Up ahead, native ash members started to fight verbally, grief turning them against each other. They had lost everything— and now they were ruining any last bonds.
Amongst the arguing members was Velk’Tiran, yelling at a younger male— something incoherent. But something deep down in Quaritch’s mind made him feel like he was responsible. Though it was technically Zaylem, Spider, and Prager’s fault, the man felt like it all came leading back to himself. He thought hard, eyes scanning each member screaming like bloody marry. The man’s large blue arm pulled his daughter closer to his chest, ears flattening against the sides of his skull. Those eyes were full of regret.
“Quaritch!” a female hollered from feet away. It was Zdinarsik uptop her red koi-fished colored bird named Tuani. In front of her was Spider, his skin paled with that massive bruise stretched across his torso. “They’re following! Look!”
The man turned his head abruptly, ears now perked high. Shit. The three ships were trailing them… too far to blast ammo, but close enough to track the moving bird flock.
“Everyone! Disperse! We’re still under attack!” Miles screamed as loud as he could, but his voice was drowned out by the sound of gushing wind hitting his face. Reym began to panic, little hands grasping at her father’s Olo’eyktan tunic.
Prager, who had been flying with Savi’ya just behind, could see one of the gunships aiming ammo in their direction. With an alerting yip, the man darted right and down, drifting as far as he could from the line of trajectory.
The once arguing natives, sensing that something was wrong, were now focused on the impeding machines rushing their way. Quaritch gripped his daughter in order to keep her steady over Cupcake’s neck as they descended.
“Varang! Don’t ride in a straight line!” the man demanded before being separated from his mate due to another Navi’s Ikran shoving their way through the gap. Reym screamed as her father urge his bird lower an lower, then suddenly up and sideways. He was making an unpredictable line for then the ships fired. Their chance of being hit was lower now.
Meanwhile, Mansk readied his CARB, locking its barrel at one of the ships. The three machines had now gotten much closer, giving them the chance at better shots. But the same advantage was given to the Navi.
“I’m firing!” Mansk yelped through the loud wind, pulling the trigger on his gun. The bullet flew for only seconds before penetrating into the surface of the first C21-Dragon. It staggered, then began spewing out its own lethal bullets. In that very moment, all Navi darted in different directions, only few members being shot down by those machine-gun shot rounds. Quaritch and Wainfleet both dropped fire immediately after becoming clear from the opposing race’s ammo.
In return, after becoming steady over air again, Quaritch loosened his grip on his daughter momentarily in order to fire his rifle at the large target, aiming at the propellers. The shots were loud and send a jostle down the father’s body. Cupcake felt that shockwave, becoming spooked— causing her to wobble between her own two wings, throwing Reym overboard. The young girl shouted a scream, small hands clawing at whatever she could to stay over the bird’s neck. She was already falling before Quaritch was able to snatch her arm.
“WAINFLEET! GET HER!” Miles shouted loudly, his voice fueled by only panic and instinct. He had forgotten about his gun, dropping it back against his blue side, golden eyes locked to his daughter and only her.
The other Navi had heard his comrade’s call and crooked his head up just in time to see a plummeting child being drawn in his direction. The man quickly stood from his seated position over his Ikran and out stretched his heavily muscled arms, intending on collecting the blue girl. She landed harshly, gravity pulling her down fast. The man groaned, skin quickly bruising from the force of her body meeting his. But, he pulled the young, terrified girl into his chest as to protect her from flying bullets.
From the other side, recoms and clan members fought hard, the natives throwing sharp arrows, whilst the machine-armed people shot bullets. Mansk was the one to successfully make his ammo meet with the first ship’s propellers, jamming it into a state of vulnerability. It tilted dangerously right, only one engine struggling to keep the metal body amongst the air. But, no matter how hard it had tried, it free-fell into the forest below.
The other two continued to advance those Navi, forgetting about the power bird that had just plummeted— unworried. One Navi Mangkwan man dared to draw his bird close to one of the dangerous machines and spew an arrow through the window. It broke glass just as a large fire erupted from below, red and orange light now illuminating over every surface.
“Masks on!” one of the pilots inside the cracked windshielded choppers yelped, reaching for a breathing mask. His comrade had been punctured through the chest, unresponsive.
“Duck!” another solider rushed through the cockpit, rifle in hand. One shot and the Navi man was killed with his Ikran, both being tossed into the void.
Below, where the first bird landed, fire spread like crazy, burning trees and ruining wildlife. But above, the two remaining dragons continued to rush up against the fleeting Navi.
“Hey! I have a plan!” Mansk screamed loudly, sure that air wasn’t drowning his sound, “I need the Mangkwan to push that chopper away. Recoms— we raid this one! The cracked one!”
“We will die!” Maria yelped, yet she had a smile upon her face.
“If we die, we die. Let’s go! Let’s move!” the man overtook command and led the flock of recoms to one side, while the mounted Mangkwan advanced left, at the last remaining chopper. 14 soon turned into 8, as they were dropping like flies. But, the humans onboard weren’t doing so well either, as some were shot through the chest and neutralized on sight. The problem, though, was that the pilots remained unscathed.
On the other side of commotion, Quaritch overtook Mansk in command, leading the recoms as they sought to take over the ship. “James! You were a pilot once! Control the ship after we kill the pilots!”
Alexander didn’t respond verbally as he shot his gun multiple times into the ship’s windshield. White and clear glass was blasted open, shards flying into Ikran wings. Maria’s bird took a bad cut to her right, causing her to dip lower through the atmosphere, now in the same altitude as Varang and J’ekru. The mother with Zaylem had been hiding from the commotion, seeking to protect her son rather than help take down these massive, loud machines. One hand was always protectively holding her son around the torso, whilst the other held her bird’s natural handle at his head.
Zdinarsik flew overhead, sure to shield Spider from any ammo as her finger pulled her gun’s trigger multiple times, chaos erupting from its barrel. One pilot was shot dead, a bullet to his head. But the other remained alive, ducking from flying bullets.
“I’m going in,” Mansk ordered his bird to fly side-by-side with the chopper, careful of its massive propellers. “Easy, Jai’sia…” he whispered in focus, adjusting his posture over the animal’s neck. Only two humans remained inside the cabin of this ship— but Mansk was quick to eliminate two with his ammo. Then, he jumped from Jai’sia’s saddle, landing at the chopper’s side.
“NAVI!” The last remaining, panicked, human screamed, shooting his rifle in the man’s direction. One bullet barely missed his muscle, skin being torn open from the force of it darting just above the surface of his blue bicep.
“Ah!” Mansk gasped, the scathed arm retreating. Now, he only held to the side with one grasp. The man’s golden eyes were wide with both frustration and fear. Just as he spotted the same human going in for another shoot, he was killed by a flying bullet through the chest. James Alexander was there in seconds, hopping into the cabin. The weight of his body caused it to tilt slightly. The man dropped to his knees before tugging his comrade up into the interior.
“There’s still one pilot alive. Kill him!” Mansk demanded, breathing hard as one dirty palm reached for his bleeding bicep, which was now gushing a line of maroon colored bodily fluids.
“On it.” James drew his rifle up in a defensive position before busting into the cockpit. Glass clearly collided with his golden eyes as the broken windshield was still spewing shards from air pressure. The pilot was frantically holding in mask, screaming for the Navi to back away. But James was quick to reach the man’s neck with his massive hand and snap it with hardly any force.
The man went silent in seconds, those terrified eyes growing red and unfocused. With this ship’s cockpit being unattended by a pilot, the bird began descending fast, tilting far to its right— and the blown engine did not make matters better.
“Mansk! Hold on!” James shoved the dead pilot out of the windshield in order to create more space for him to work. Once again, it had been a long while since he flew a chopper. But, he had to stabilize it fast. So, he dropped into the seat, nearly being sucked out by the increasing air pressure. Nonetheless, he reached for the controls and pressed various buttons, pulled levers, and typed numbers.
Mansk, inside the body, was jostled around by the shifting weight. A large cargo of extra weapons was shoved into his back, sending him sprawling outwards of the ship’s interior. “AHH!” Mansk’s large grasp opened fast, searching for anything to grab onto. Finally, he found the side of the ship’s door just as he slid out. The piece of protective metal jammed as the Navi’s weight pressured it into collapsing.
“I’ve got the ammo!” Quaritch was just feet away, arms reaching out to clasp the falling crate. Cupcake squawked as extra weight pressed her further down from the atmosphere, wings working hard to keep both her and her rider overhead.
On the other side of the ship, Maria had recovered from her bird being struck. Her weight inside the cabin helped James in stabilizing the ship’s hull. Lopez, too, jumped into the interior, bloody fingers pressed against some rope to keep him from falling back into the void of air.
“Hey! I’ve got it steady! But we’re still falling slowly! Get the cargo and go!” James demanded from the pit, both hands tugging on levers and triggers.
“Take this!” Maria shoved a box of comms into Lopez’s chest then strutted to Mansk in order to pull him into the cabin once more.
“Wainfleet! Take the comms!” Lopez reached outside the ship, box of supplies in his grasp. His arm was extended to a closely following Lyle Wainfleet, who still had his grasp over a terrified Reym. He risked his balance in order to acquire the box.
“We’re going down faster! Hurry up!” Alexander yelled again. This time, he unbuckled himself and began rushing toward the cabin. “We don’t have a lot of time!”
Quaritch fled into the cabin with a jump from Cupcake. The cargo was strapped to the bird’s back, weight becoming uneven to her. But the man didn’t care as he was quick to pick up multiple things of RDA equipment.
They consisted of ammo, comms, blankets, and gear.
Lopez whistled loudly, ordering his bird back to his side. In his arms were some more boxes of comms. Frosty shoves past Cupcake with a snarl before inching closer at the man’s figure. His wings were very close to the propeller, but nothing happened as it was the dead, unresponsive engine.
With a loud grunt, Lopez lept from the ship’s interior and landed upon his bird’s back. Frosty destabilized slightly from the sudden pressure, but recovered fast and drifted away from the falling ship.
“Go! Maria! Go!” Quaritch was now shoving his people toward the two large exits as the dragon was now vertically falling to the ground.
“Sierra!” the woman jumped into the air, now free falling. The gear inside her grasps clanked against her skin, cutting blood dripping wounds into her shoulder and checks. Then, her bird, Sierra swooped underside the woman’s body, her bright colors shining from the sun’s rays.
“AH!” Maria gasped, body jamming against her bird’s back as tack jabbed into her stomach, leaving a lined bruise.
Sa’anui, James’s flying companion, dove alongside the falling machine, his leopard-like colors seeming more like a blur from the pace of things.
“Devin, with me!” Alexander’s blue grasp tugged the latter of the men, both of their striped figures finding refuge upon the bird’s posture. Sa’anui extended his winged pinion and catching surface area in order to balance himself in the air once more.
Finally, Quaritch reached Cupcake’s neck upon jumping through the air. The bird tossed within the air before darting upwards from the soon-to-be-wracked dragon.
The scene was climatic as Quaritch fled upon his Ikran’s back while a blast of red, orange, and yellow lights illuminated from the trees, sending flames up trees and across grassy grounds.
But it wasn’t over just yet. The other chopper was still mostly unscathed by attacking Mangkwan Navi. Worst of all, only three natives remained.
“Help them!” Quaritch snarled, ears pinning at the sight of a falling Mangkwan, limbs flailing as he plummeted to his death.
Lopez lifted his rifle with Maria at his side. Only one of them were able to shoot before the last of the dragons finally slowed, turned, and retreated. As if they were intimidated.
“Don’t follow! If they’re running, let them run! We need to get to safety!” Miles demanded upon spotting two of his recoms already taking part in chasing the fleeing metal bird.
“We must land and regain our bearings! Now!” The man urged Cupcake into gliding down to one of those floating mountains that seemed to be everywhere inside the forest biome.
Exhausted Navi landed before Quaritch, happy to be alive. Mansk was one of them, his figure sliding from the side of Jai’sia until he connected with ground.
“Oh Reym!” Varang screamed as J’ekru settled upon the boulder. The little girl jumped from her uncle Lyle’s protection and stumbled into her mother body just as she dismounted.
“Oh, my baby…!” The woman sobbed, now on her knees and pulling the young child into her chest. Reym sprawled out across her mother’s pregnant belly, wet tears landing on her blue skin.
Lopez held his bird around the neck in a soothing motion, eyes scanning the large boulder— each Navi being accounted for. Then, he realized that someone was missing. “Where’s Ethan?! And Savi’ya?”
Quaritch had just dismounted Cupcake’s back upon those words hitting his ears, “what?!”
“Prager’s not here.”
“Was he shot?” Quaritch could feel his heart sinking. All that hatred and anger vanished within one thought.
“I hope not…” Maria’s eyes widened as her palms applied pressure to her bird’s wing. Sierra hissed loudly, becoming restless from the pain.
“Prager!” Quaritch stepped to the edge of the floating mountain, screaming through the air. Nothing came back.
“Fuck…” Lopez’s hands free to his head, panic settling in, “I swear I saw him…”
Zdinarsik’s bird could sense the uneasiness and reared in discomfort, those massive wings nearly striking Mansk in the head.
“Ugh!” He grunted upon Z tugging him from under the animal’s posture. Her own fear had crept its way through the woman’s emotions, as she let out a hiss toward her own Ikran. Spider remained behind his adoptive mother, choosing to remain quiet in a grievance effort for the lost Mangkwan… and his uncle and Savi.
“Alexis. Calm…” Devin instructed his mate into his chest. The woman let out a half-cry, half-sigh from her throat, all of the pressure building too far up.
Meanwhile James and Maria took seat at a large rock, their backs pressing up against the rough surface of the material. The female nuzzled into the male’s posture, exhaustion taking her by the neck. Those golden eyes of hers shut upon relaxing with no more worry. Well, scratch that. There was still lots of worry rummaging through her head. But, at the moment, none of it was physical.
Varang, too, collapses at her bird’s side, holding her daughter close. Zaylem found it easier to remain overtop his mother’s Nightwraith, his own posture faltering forwards.
“Miles!” Varang yelped, those dark eyes now focused about her husband. The father of two quickly rearranged his priorities straight and rushed to his family’s side.
“Are you three okay?! Are you well?” the man dropped to his knees, hands first brushing over his wife’s belly, whilst his panicked gaze scanning her expression.
“Your children.” is all she said, ears pinned slightly flat. The man sucked in a harsh, worried breath before embracing his daughter.
“Daddy, I fell…” Reym cried.
“I know, honey. I know. Are you okay?” the father whispered against her ruffled hair.
“I don’t know…” she said a little too quietly.
“Baby…” the man quickly pulled away in order to scan his child’s body. She was bruised… but other than that, unharmed. “It’s going to get better, Reym. I promise.” the father placed a protective kiss against the top of her head, tail jolting into the ground. Then, he stood to his full height, attention only narrowed against his son’s broken soul.
“Zay…” the man shuffled closer to his son, weight pressed to J’ekru’s neck in order to become physically close to his son. “Zaylem. Look at me.”
The boy barely moved, as his body retaliated any. Tears rushed down his face, eyes red with unforgettable experience.
“Kiddo…” the father could feel steaming liquid forming inside his eyes. The boy leaned slowly toward his father’s before landing against his body with a slight grunt. Those ragged breaths could be felt against Quaritch’s skin. The father embraced his little boy, large arms shielding the boy from any danger within that moment.
“I don’t wanna be here anymore, papa…” Zaylem muttered, half consciously, weak fingers intertwining with the man’s ruffled Olo’eyktan tunic.
“No. No, Zaylem. No. Don’t say that.” the father was quick to tap his child in the cheek, waking him into a more alert state.
“It’s the truth, though.” the boy’s full weight was no pressed into his father’s torso, uncaring of falling over.
“Okay… this isn’t gonna work.” Quaritch muttered to himself whilst hoisting the kid into his arms.
“Ow…!” Zaylem complained, pained body retaliating at the movement.
The father sat beside his wife, whist holding his teenager son in his arms, “shhh.”
Varang reached to her baby boy, brushing his short hair against his scalp with her gentle fingers. The boy slowly closed his feline-like eyes before going completely limp against his father’s chest.
Reym gasped slightly, “Daddy. Is he dead…?” she asked with panic, hardly ever seeing Zaylem is such a state— except for while at the RDA.
“What?” Both parents asked in unison. Then, Quaritch explained, “baby, your brother is weak. He’s not feeling good. But he’s not… dead.”
The little girl’s gaze remained over her brother’s sickly figure as he nuzzled into their father’s muscular peck. Varang tenderly placed a kiss at her daughter’s forehead before speaking softly, “Rey Rey… you should rest. You need it.”
The 9-year-old glanced up at her mother with those tired, worn down eyes, “can I…?”
“Yes, baby. Rest.” whispered Varang. Not too long later, the daughter of the two parents was also in a slumbered state, unresponsive to surrounding noise from other Navi.
With the children mentally away, this gave the parents time to… express their feelings. Varang allowed the dam to break as tears rushed down her scarred, once ashy skin. Her arms wrapped around her daughter protective, belly being slightly smushed by the weight. Her sobs jostled the young girl slightly, though she never woke.
“Talk to me, Vara…” Quaritch lifted a palm from Zaylem’s bruised body and placed it against his wife’s neck.
“My clan’s gone… they’re all dead.” she expressed, “our children… two days in a row… we’re in danger.”
“Honey. The kids are safe now. We cannot reminiscent on the past.” Miles attempted to reassure the female, but we wasn’t sure if he ever took that advice for himself. Was he being hypocritical? He always reminiscented over Prager’s actions. And now… he was most likely dead.
“But my clan,” the woman said, voice snapping Quaritch back into reality, “only three remain.”
“The Mangkwan will never be forgotten…” the father nuzzled his head into the side of his mate’s face, the notion instinctual and out of pure love. Varang subconsciously glided a soft palm over her bumped belly, mind focused on the trauma that she had just witnessed.
Quaritch used that as leverage, “and Varang. The baby…” he pressed his own, larger hand over her smaller one, “the baby needs its mama to be strong right now.”
“I can hardly take this anymore. I just want peace.”
The man nodded to her words, a sorrowful expression plastered to his face, “I understand now.”
“Understand what…?”
“What it’s like to… destroy a home. To be forced to evacuate. God, my human predecessor was so destructive and unstable.” he stifled in a pained sob, shoving it back down his gullet, embarrassed to show such emotion.
“You are not him, Miles.” the female leaned into her husband’s shoulder, closing her own eyes. “You are… you. You are my husband. You are the father of my children. You are no longer… human.”
For some reason, those words really pleased Quaritch in a strange way— as if they opened a door that had been locked for a tad too long. Something within his soul agreed with the words of his mate.
“Yeah…” is all he was able to muster out before realizing that Varang was, too, asleep against his arm. That was a sign that he needed to rest along with his family— that he needed to regain his strength if he wanted to protect them. So that’s what he did.
Zdinarsik assessed an upset Spider. The boy’s limbs were trembling from his weakened state. Those brown eyes struggled to remain open from his exhausted he felt. Zdinarsik’s muscular arms held the kid close, gently pressing soft kisses against his delicate head.
Mansk watched from a few feet away, blue hands busy wrestling with a comm earpiece. It was multi-species— meaning it could switch from human-sized, to Navi. And that little breakthrough made the ordeal life changing for the surviving Navi.
To the man’s left, Lopez slept, back pressed against a stumped rock that was prodding out of the ground. He had seemed to be tearing up over Prager’s supposed death, but never outwardly expressed that pain. Though, Rav’thena, who had plotted just at the man’s side could tell his discomfort. She could see his deeply emotional figure struggling to keep those feelings in.
“I lost people today, too…” the woman began speaking— not specifically to anyone in particular. Just… in general. Mansk glanced over at the Mangkwan war-leader whose eyes weren’t focused on anything. “It hurts to lose them. Even when they didn’t treat you right.”
Then, the woman shook her head, sighed, and stood quickly. She spotted Mansk’s beading eyes and briskly nodded in embarrassment before turning by her heel and strutting north towards her restless Ikran.
But what struck Mansk wrong was the fact that she was right. And it applied to his past life, too. Killing humans wasn’t fun. It wasn’t easy. It hurt.
But it had to be done.