Chapter Text
Colonel Miles Quaritch
Blonde locs disappearing into the water was the last he saw of his son. He called for him, but a hiss was his reply, and Quaritch had felt betrayed by a son he had claimed wasn’t his.
Miles deserved it.
Colonel Miles Quaritch had lived a long life, longer than he should have really. First, as a human, and now a 9 ft tall blue man-made alien meant to look, behave, and be like a species from another planet, Pandora. He had been one of the low-key ones sent to aid in saving his home planet. He had fought many wars on Earth; now he was fighting for the planet itself.
He had led his troops into battle against the natives of the land and took whatever resources the corporate elites wanted, for what Quaritch was promised would lead to the betterment of mankind, for his people. Now blue, his place in the future of said plan was uncertain, a broken puzzle piece now forever unfit; regardless, he did what he was ordered and never asked any questions, even to the detriment of himself and others.
Quaritch always got it done.
Despite all of his peaks, there was always one mountain he couldn’t overcome, one task he failed to accomplish, and it was a simple one in the grand scheme of things that fought back harder than any issue he had ever faced, and that was capturing Jake Sully, a marine that turned his back on humankind—on him, for local tail. The irony of life, though, was that the moment he actually managed to get the man in his grasp and have the chance to accomplish what is essentially his life’s mission, he was also the one who ultimately freed him.
His son—his only son- was in danger, and he had made a promise to himself in the forest, flying through the canopies of the Pandoran forest on his ikran. The kid, in a moment of weakness, had fallen asleep in his arms; he was so small, and not in the Na'vi to human comparison but to human Quaritch looking at his baby son in his arms, soon after he had been born. He had been a premature baby; something about the gravity and particles on Pandora had resulted in him coming earlier than expected. He had been so small, and Quaritch could only think about how this baby had fully relied on him and his mother to survive. The thought had scared him and filled him with insurmountable bravery; he would have done anything for him. He would do anything for him.
The sentiment had been brought back in full force in that moment, and it stayed with him even after Spider had turned his back on him subsequently, after saving his life.
His time in the forest with Spider had been short; six months might be a long time, but in the grand scheme of the fifteen years his son had lived, it was all but a fraction of the time he had to catch up on. Spider was everything he was not, filled with the levity and joy of a soul that hadn’t been ripped apart by the weight of war, and Quaritch hoped it would stay that way. Even though he knew he was going to be the one who inevitably destroyed him, too.
This is why, without even hesitating, he cut Jake Sully free
“Knife,” and handed him the knife, even to the protest of Wainfleet, like him, Jake also got things done.
"Wainfleet, keep an eye out for us, alright.” It was an order, not an ask; Wainfleet’s protests immediately fell on deaf ears. Quaritch knew what he had to do, and no one was going to stop him.
“You go round my six, and I’ll take on this side." Jake hadn’t even glanced back at Quaritch as he made his move towards the kids; his ears were pinned straight in concentration, occasionally swerving around to listen to any dangers.
What was Quaritch to say the man knew these woods better than he ever could, and with a swish of his tail, he followed in suit.
In the centre of the gathering stood a tall, lean Na’vi woman with a feathered crown split into red and black, red paint in the shape of an arrow aimed down her forehead to the bridge of her nose. She, like the rest of the Na’vi around her were ash ridden much paler than any Na’vi he had seen; they had protrusions running down their skin in places that the glowing spots all creations of Pandora would have. She wore a tight black band around her torso, like the many others around her; hers was more decorative, though, sand he had bone spikes that streamed down her main braid. She wore a sickly grin on her face as she eyed the Sully children. Her eyes, large and wide, screamed predator and a warning to stay away. The way she commanded the scene clued him in on her stance and had him formulate his own plan.
Is she their Tsahik? A perfect hostage target.
She had sauntered over to the sully boy, assault rifle in hand, and looked to be asking something of him, persistently pushing the assault rifle into his chest with rising agitation. Quaritch didn’t focus on that, instead his eyes scanned the scene looking for a certain head of blonde locs. Quaritch’s heart sank as his eyes sharpened on the clearly unmasked human boy.
His mask! He doesn’t have it. How is he alive?
“He doesn’t have his mask. How is he breathing?” Quaritch’s eyes were glued onto Spider, and he could feel his ears pinned to his side.
Jake’s shallow breaths exposed the same shock and fear that was debilitating Quaritch, his legs shaky and heart racing.
“I-I can't even begin to think about that right now. We need to move.” Jake composed himself.
Quaritch knew he did not have time to hesitate, and for the time being, he was thankful that whatever power was out there was keeping his son alive in the first place.
Quaritch moved in after Jake, taking the other side as the man had instructed, their plan hadn’t been thought out in the slightest, but their combined marine knowledge and experience had them able to fill in the blanks on unplanned positions and attacks as though they had always been on the same side, fighting the same war and at some point that was the truth.
It felt wrong. It felt right.
“Kill the boy!’’ their Tsahik cried.
One of her Na’vi raised their bow towards Spider. Every muscle in Quaritch’s body sprang into action. Without thinking, he lunged in front of the arrow, piercing right through his upper thigh. Lucky for him, aiming for Spider was way below any vital spot on his body, but regardless, it caused him to buckle. He let out a hiss, weak but still threatening. He didn’t have time to tend to his wound or even acknowledge it, as his reckless abandonment had allowed Jake to take down the Na’vi guarding the Tsahik.
Quaritch took her short moment of astonishment to grab her and put the gun to her temple. The arrow in his leg caused his movements to be choppy but still fast and precise enough to get him where he needed to be.
“Put down your weapons!” His voice carried through the forest, piercing through all the noise of the fight.
A glance around made him note that they clearly didn’t understand the situation at hand. To show them what he meant, he fired at one of the approaching Na’vi, putting him into the ground instantly. Their Tsahik, now clearly understanding the situation they were in, ordered her people to stand down. They complied, lowering their weapons to the ground, fear in their eyes as they looked at Quaritch.
Good, normal, I can handle this.
The pain in his leg flared up from the stance he had taken, but he couldn't wobble, show any weakness that could allow them to have the upper hand and turn the tides on a balance of scales barely in their favour. With the situation mostly handled,d he started giving orders, he fought with all his might to keep his eyes away from Spider as he knew looking at the boy would lock his attention. He would want to go up and check any wounds he might have; the thought alone filled him with dread.
“First, you are going to back away from us and slowly hands where I can see em.”
Their Tsahik started to cry, her tears high-pitched and childlike, mocking even, before he could even order her to stop, he felt a sharp tug from his kuru, which turned into an overwhelming burning sensation, his knees hit the ground before he could even comprehend what was going on. The pain flared through his whole body, leaving him writhing in pain and immobile. The Tsahik laughed at him while he cried in pain. His kuru felt like it was being strangled by hers. The constant supply of pain and fire left him completely vulnerable. With a choppy glance to his side, he saw the body of Jake Sully on the ground as his children cried over him, Spider among them, calling for him.
Not me
With a heavy fist and his will alone, Quaritch severed their bond; his hand shook from the amount of effort he had to exert just to raise it past his thighs, but the damage had left him weak and wheezing, unable to fight back. She crouched down in front of his kneeling form, with the innocent smile of a beast. Her hand reached out in his direction as he wheezed his lungs out, paralysed from the connection, she reached up to rub her fingers against his face.
“You are strong, sky man”, voice laced with temptation. “You will teach me how to make thunder!”
She raised the assault rifle to his chest and kept her eyes trained on his. She had this fire, evil within her, he hadn’t seen in many and knew exactly what kind of person he needed to be. He glanced back at the Sullys—at Spider and saw him looking right back with worry and fear in his eyes. Quaritch didn’t know if it was aimed at him or the situation at hand, regardless he had to do what needed to be done.
If she were fire, despite the dangers, he would have to play with it, so he did as he was asked and showed her how each component worked and how to use them. Her visage was bright with glee the black paint around her face caused the excitement in her eyes to be even more visible. If things had been different, he probably would have fallen for her right then and there.
She reminded him a lot of Paz, a strong woman, an even stronger fighter its why she was called into battle, leaving baby Miles with the scientists to wait for her to get back. She never did.
He was harshly thrown back into reality when she cocked the gun in his direction. “I don’t need you anymore, skyman”, was all she said with a grin across her face.
Her scrutinising gaze was still trained on him before he felt a hard blow to the back of his head, sending his whole world into darkness.
Ah shit.
Quaritch came to not too long after the pain from his leg and kuru shot through his system, waking him up with his hands bound and Jake Sully lying in front of him, his kids not too far behind.
Fuck. My head.
It swarmed and pounded. It seemed getting your nerves messed with did lingering damage, he laughed to himself at the sardonic thought. A quick tug of his wrist and he knew he wasn’t getting out of these ropes anytime soon, Jake on the other hand, still struggled and writhed trying to free himself before he too came to the same realisation.
“These fuckers know their knots.”
Despite it all, Quaritch found this situation oddly hilarious, tied up face-to-face with his sworn enemy, probably about to be killed with his only son. Maybe that brought some comfort that this whole saga would end in one fell swoop, and if Jake was dead, then he would have done his job in the end. Still, though his biggest regret would be Spider, that kid deserved to live a long and happy life despite his own personal actions, he should have been around more when he was a kid, should have raised him even without his mother, but he died and now here he is as a blue alien about to die again and taking his son with him.
That would have been the case had not the inconspicuous flowers, unprompted, shot out needles, hitting the Na’vi guards that had been watching over them, springing one of the Sully kids into action. He grabbed the blade left behind and started tearing through his rope before doing the same to his siblings and Jake Sully.
Once Jake got free, Quaritch had fully expected them to leave him there to die, but instead.
“C’mon”, Jake rounded his back, ripping him from his bondage.
He knew he had no time to ask questions, so with a glance at Spider, they moved. Tearing through the jungle to get as far away as possible from the ashy Na’vi before they found out they were missing and started tracking them. He reached for his neck, planning on contacting Wainfleet to tell him to help with the evacuation, only for his hand to touch empty skin.
Shit, they took my comms.
He was going in blind; he didn’t know where Wainfleet had gone, or if he was alive, but he had no time to think about it as he had to keep focused to keep up with the Sully family.
The Sullys moved through the bushes like it was their second home, and it very much was. He had as the one too chase them, seen it many times; his leg ached and caused him to buckle a few times, the movement caused the arrow lodged in his thigh to justle around, enlarging the wound. Not only that, the blood loss was leaving him lightheaded and weak. He needed to pack it, but he had no time, and he wasn’t about to call out to them to get them to wait for him; if he stopped and they left him, he was a dead man.
Fuck me.
Spider kept up as expected, so Quaritch had no choice; he just needed to push more, so he did. Once they got to a riverbank, they dove in, letting the water carry them down the stream and away from those psychotic Na’vi. The cold water shocked his system, giving him the adrenaline he needed to keep moving from all the blood he had lost was weakening him. He was draining way faster than any normal arrow would, but he had no time to dwell on that. His wound continued to bleed, the blood leaked into the water, it ached and burned as the liquid seeped into his open flesh, but he kept steady swimming anyway. He noticed Jake constantly glancing back at him, then to his leg, but he refused to acknowledge it. His weakness would not be acknowledged even if the arrow hurt like the mother fucker.
Cornel Miles Quaritch would not die from drowning.
They approached the riverbank and pulled themselves out of it, everyone heaving and panting from exhaustion. He slinked behind Jake, the two of them making eye contact, a conversation passing with eyes alone. Quaritch knew he would struggle if he fought now; his leg had left him exhausted along with all the running and swimming they had done, but if he had to fight, he would.
“We still have some unfinished business.” Quaritch braced himself for the fight. He could see that Jake was exhausted and hoped he felt the same amount of exhaustion he did.
“Or we could just not, not right now.” Jake dropped his bow and arrow, keeping his eyes locked with Quaritch’s.
Hah. Guess the bastard's tired too.
“We still have our knives.” Despite the comment, Quaritch walked—or more so hobbled right past Jake before settling onto a rock not too far from the kids.
Spider was—no had been staring, he noticed it when Jake had been doing the same thing on the riverbank, glancing at him, then down to his leg. Jake was one thing, his son, another; he wasn’t meant to look weak in front of him. The kid said nothing, though. Quaritch wondered what was going on through Spider’s head. I mean, he had no mask; he could breathe the air somehow. Quaritch wanted to check up on him further, but his eyes swarmed and his vision blurred, his head was pounding, and he was fading fast. Jake came in front of him at that moment, forcing him to drag his focus back onto Jake. It was laced with fatigue, shaky and uneven, but it was still an acknowledgement. Sleep was washing over him fast.
“Despite all this time, you still don’t get it?” Jake questioned.
It only made him angrier from the weariness and pain. He wasn’t in the mood for all this questioning.
So preachy he is like General Ardmore
Quaritch bit the inside of his mouth before spitting, “It doesn’t matter what colour I am, I still know what I need to do.” His brain fogged over as what remained of his adrenaline seeped out of his body. He glanced at Spider, the boy sat upright despite the exhaustion evident on his face, his eyes were slack, and his body swayed. Despite the obvious reflections of his own fatigue, the kid's eyes were hard and ready for a fight; it stung when he realised this, but he knew it was warranted. He is the one who caused his lack of trust. Why would it be different now? Even if he took an arrow for him.
Before falling into the abyss, Jake spoke up again. It was quiet, almost like Quaritch was hearing it through a glass window. “You got new eyes, Cornel, you gotta do is open them.” Was the part that ran through his head as he was lulled to sleep, like that, he was out. The words played around and around in his head like a mantra as he stayed in a coma-like sleep.
The only reason he even woke up was to an all too familiar voice screaming of someone. He wanted to stay in his dream-like state where nothing felt real, and he didn’t have to think about anything, not his human life nor his Na’vi self nor Spider, he just needed to be—.
“I WILL KILL THAT DEMON!”
Quaritch shot up from his resting ground, expecting to see the blue sky and the green leaves of the pandoran trees. Possibly also the familiar screech of a blue ikran tearing towards him, the rider, a familiar Na’vi woman, bow poised, ready to end his life. Instead, he was met by white pasty walls and the smell of disinfectants, something he hardly paid attention to as a human, but as a Na’vi, it was impossible to ignore. Bright lights pierced his eyes, and pinning his ears to his head, he snapped his eyes shut from the pain. His head pounded, and he was extremely disoriented. He shifted his legs gently, trying to make sense of what was going on.
He was in a hospital room. Why? How? Did Lyle or another troop take him back to home base? The voice—that voice that doesn’t make any sense that’s-.
His thoughts were sharply cut off, with the sound of a table crashing down. His eyes shot up, putting him face to face with no one other than an extremely murder hungry Mrs. Sully walking around the corner, her eyes sharp and out for blood.
My blood no less. Shit.