( PANDORA'S BOX )
⟵ ◊ ⟶
chapter 1: this is you.

CONSCIOUSNESS rushed in the mind of Lieutenant Simon Riley like a crashing tidal wave, golden eyes fluttering open for the first time. Lungs drawing in breath, his teeth ground as his hands grasped for the flat surface he lied on, to touch anything and gain his bearing. He needed to stabilize himself as his body and mind tried to recalibrate to the reality it was now in.

The sensations of being filled every inch of him.

Disoriented, it felt as if he'd woken up from an incredibly deep sleep. So deep, he'd traveled to a different place and time before being ripped back to his body in an instant.

A light suddenly flashed in his eyes, seemingly more harsh than any had been before. As if his eyes were suddently capable of so much more. He winced in response, hand jerking up to shield his face.

Sensations along his skin tickled, making him shiver. Hell, he wasn't even sure it felt like a deep sleep anymore; more like a weird hangover that left him feeling like he'd traveled to another dimension.

"Papillary reflexes are good," an unfamiliar male voice said, sounding as if it were being said through the glass of an exo-mask. The flashlight was moved, the beam no longer stinging his vision.

Fuck, he wasn't wearing his mask. His face was bare for the world to see. Where was his damn mask? No one ever saw his face.

His vision slowly began to unblur, the ceiling of a medical bay room coming into view. Another light shined from there, bright like the flashlight that had just been blaring in his eyes. His lids formed into slits, a sneer forming on his features.

Rubbery snapping of latex-gloved fingers at the sides of head made him hiss in response, ears weirdly responding with movements he didnt quite register. He noticed his hearing was seemingly better than it had ever been before, considering his years around weapons and other jarring sounds.

Too much was going on.

"Auditory reflex is good as well. How you feeling, Simon?" A female voice asked and the hands receded from the side of his head.

Lurching to an upright position, he looked to the woman in medical attire standing at the side of the bed. She was garbed in layers of what looked like surgical scrubs and a gown with a white exo-mask, likely a doctor.

He then noticed how incredibly short she was. So short he thought he was still too disoriented to know what was going on or why she was so small.

"Why are you so damn short?"

The woman chuckled slightly in reply to his less than pleasant words before carrying on entering information on the holographic tablet in her hand.

"You're going to feel disorientated for a while, Lieutenant," the man at his other side said from where he stood at a computer typing away, drawing his attention.

Riley was so dizzy. What the fuck had happened? Why was he in medical?

Amidst the chaos and confusion swirling in his mind, he focused on his hands and body for the first time since awakening to assess the damage.

Immediate confusion mixed with shock flooded his veins, his heart immediately kicking into overdrive once he realized there were no damages. He turned his hands in front of his face, looking at the backs and palms. Irregular stripes raced back and forth over his blue skin like those big cats that had went extinct on earth years ago.

As if he wasn't still disoriented, he swung his long legs over the edge of the bed and got to his feet with mild ease. Any shred of composure he'd possessed disappeared as he steeled himself to gain some semblance of control over what was going on.

"Why the fuck am I blue?" He growled to the woman, who had stepped back in response to his towering presence bombarding the tight area. He looked over himself, at his long, striped legs and tail that was thrashing behind him. Something that a sensation he was still trying to register, another limb. "I don't need a damn avatar."

Before the woman could answer his demands, a door slid open and an avatar stepped in, strangely garbed in the typical digi-cam pants and boots he knew as familiar. Riley had seen plenty of them at Hell's Gate with all the science freaks and their research, but none dressed like this. Like a soldier.

The closer the man got, the more realization began to hit him.

"Ghost," Captain Price greeted, entirely him albiet missing his typical beard that hugged his face like a statement. Though Na'vified, his facial features were still recognizable. He stopped in front of where Riley stood still garbed in his gown, still somewhat dizzy and annoyed.

"Price," Riley uttered, both relief and confusion filling him. "What the fuck is going on? Why am I in an avatar? Get me out of this thing, I dont want it."

Price frowned, crossing his arms.

"You're not in an avatar. This is you," Riley's superior referenced to him and his body with a gesture of his hand. "We lost, Ghost. Against Jake Sully and Ruth Carson and their native army. They beat us in the mountains and overtook Hell's Gate. I tried to find a way to tell you that wasn't so blunt, but you've always been pretty good at compartmentalizing."

Unfortunately, he was. That was how he'd survived through the years.

Memories flooded his minded as he recalled what he could. They had imprinted their memory for some insurance for corporate, ensuring their intelligence and experience wouldn't be lost if they were.

Parker Selfridge had orchestrated the entire thing. He wouldn't have memory of dying in battle, he realized. The last thing he could recall in getting into a link chamber for some reason to do with his new body.

"We died," Riley repeated the obvious Price had just stated. This wasn't supposed to happen. They'd been guaranteed the skirmish in the mountains was going to be an easy in and out, firepower against bows and arrows. A trivial thing.

"It indeed appears so. Luckily, you handled waking up easier than the Colonel did," Price chuckled a little as he seemed to recall a recent event, perhaps lightinging the mood. "Wainfleet got a solid hit to the nose trying to bring him to the surface. Quaritch didn't like seeing a blue in his face. Unfortunately we're all stuck with that now."

"Where is everyone else?" Riley asked, reminded of his men. He was finally able to stand straight, no longer swaying. Now he was worried about his guys. "Soap, Gaz?"

"They're being briefed by the colonel, woke up before you did. Nothing too serious," he turned as if to leave the room, tail swishing behind him. "You'll be happy to hear they even got König join us. Guess they thought he'd be beneficial for our upcoming mission."

The Austrian they'd been forced to team with upon first arriving to Pandora, perhaps entirely because of his prolificacy for confirmed kills, same as Riley and everyone else on his taskforce. König was a man hardly anyone knew anything about, more ambiguous than Riley himself. His real name and background was apparently on a need to know basis.

It appeared that the RDA reached far and wide to create the best of the best.

"We just woke up and we've already got a mission?" Riley half muttered, half asked. "Just found out I died. Thought I might get a minute or two to process that."

What was he saying? His entire life had been centered around being proficient in the ways of death, getting the mission done and shoving down thoughts and feelings about anything of his craft. What did being blue have to do anything with it? He died. He'd have to cope with it later, if he ever did.

"You know how things work around here, LT," the Captain replied from where he now stood close to the open door, which had slid open moments before. "No rest for us."

As Price left, Riley turned back to the two humans working in the room. He sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He hissed in pain when crushing his tail, still mostly unaware he even had one. His thumb rubbed the spot on his tail that hurt the worst, a sour expression on his features.

"Once we're finished with you in here you'll be directed to collect your issued items," the man finishing up at the computer informed him. "But you'll need to watch the debrief of yourself before hand."

A human sized holographic tablet was handed to him. It was small in his grip, but there was indeed a video waiting to be played where he sat in front of the camera. Human him. If they could even be considered the same person.

He'd died. And now, he was blue. With reluctance, he hit play, hearing the sound of his own voice as if it were a strangers.

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"YOU'RE not in Kansas anymore."

Riley stood near the back of the gathered recombinants, arms crossed and gaze locked on Colonel Miles Quaritch where he stood near the giant window exposing them to the endless expanse of space. Pandora was visible in the near distance, dwarfed by the blue and purple gas giant, Polyphemus. Price stood nearby the, ready to assist his superior if need be.

"We're going to Pandora. As we all know: you can kill a marine, but we'll just regroup in hell," the Colonel paused, glancing to Price. "With our soldier brothers in arms, we've been tasked with an important mission for humanity."

It all felt strange. Being and surrounded by the very beings he'd been trained to view as a deadly enemy. Soap and Gaz hadn't seemed that bothered by it, boyishly intrigued by their immense strength and height they now possesed. The two stood nearby, attentive to the Colonel's words.

Just as the other recombinants had the tattoos they'd once possessed as humans now on their blue, striped skin, Riley now wore a cloth mask hugging his head. Like a piece of him.

It had been difficult shoving the braid that lied against his back under the tight fabric, therefore a singular hole at the back would need to suffice. His protruding ears weren't fairing well  under the fabric either, so holes had to be cut for those as well. The look was perhaps strange looking to outsiders, but it was everything he needed in order to whole.

The tattoos he'd posssed were now on this skin as well, he'd seen, when changing out of the medical gown. He now was garbed in a moisture-wicking long sleeve shirt with the acronym "PROJ PHNX" on his breast, the fabric light and airy. Long digi-cam pants covered his legs, with tan boots to complete the outfit.

"Blue Team Alpha has been assigned with the mission to find and destroy the leader Na'vi insurgency, Jake Sully." Quaritch muttered with a sneer. "I'm sure many of you remember him. He is the one that got you killed."

Riley was sure those words were meant to incite some form of anger from those present in the room. Boost the morale of those who were ready to enact revenge on the individuals that had betrayed their own race.

Riley didn't care if Ruth and Jake had betrayed the human race or not. The mission was the only thing that had ever mattered to him. Get it done, as he often said.

"We are shipping to Bridgehead City in just a few short hours, the new headquarters for all operations." He stopped pacing and scanned the room. "With the general semantics of it all, I have one question to ask you all," the Colonel paused his pacing and smiled, waiting moments to let the anticipation build. "Why so blue?"

The recoms laughed, but Riley didn't. He didn't want to be here, carrying on as if the past hadn't happened. He'd been reluctant to agree to Parker Selfridge's plan to imprint their memories on a 'soul drive', as he'd called it, before the battle in the floating mountains. If he was going to die, he wanted to stay that way.

Yet, here he was, tall and blue and angry.

"Marines and soldiers in avatar bodies," Soap remarked quietly at Riley's side, gaining the lietenant's attention. "That's a potent mix."

Riley rolled his eyes and sighed. "I suppose we have an advantage now."

"I mean shit, looks at us," Gaz grinned at Soap's other side. "I have to be like seven or eight feet tall now. Imagine what my bench press PB is going to be."

They indeed were all tall as hell now, the muscle to boot. They hadn't had the the opportunity to try their new bodies out yet while still in orbit around Pandora, but they would soon enough if it meant they would be going after Sully and Carson.

Carson had adapted to the natives way of life in the months leading up to the battle, Riley had learned, once she and Sully had defected and turned the indigenous population against Hell's Gate. If she was still around, he wondered how much of a threat she might pose now. It had been fifteen years after all. Plenty of time for her to hone her skills.

"I think we're all beat by the Austrian though," Soap pointed out with gesturing nod. The three of them drew their attention to the towering man lurking near the far edge of the room, easily a head over everyone in the room. It appeared he didnt want his face to be seen either, a loose fitting mask provided for him just as Riley had been given during issue. König been tall as a human; he was a monster now.

"I just can't get over the fact the blues beat our ass," Gaz muttered. "I mean, what do bows and arrows have against guns? We must have done something wrong during that battle."

Riley had surmised it was perhaps better they didn't remember or know what exactly happened all those years ago. They needed fresh minds and critical thinking to complete the mission at hand, not to spend their time wondering what went wrong.

Shove it all down and forget, he'd always opted for. Stay on autopilot.

"So as it goes gentleman and ladies," Quaritch said, drawing the attention of the three soldiers back to him. "We'll be hunting these traitors with everything we've got. You all will do your due diligence to capture—," he paused tilting his head with slight grin, insinuating that he didnt quite care what happened to thier targets. "—or destroy Carson, Sully, and their savages. This time, there will be no saving for them."

The collective members of Blue Team Alpha hooted and cheered, preened for the fighting to come.

Riley sighed, uncrossed his arms, and ducked through the door in search of place anywhere else than the rambling crowd in the room. Gaz and Soap didn't even notice him leave.

There was a mission now, a purpose he supposed. But he didn't care. About anything, frankly. He wasn't supposed to be alive. Soldiers didn't get second chances when felled in battle, yet he was returned to the living in the form of the enemy.

"How fucking ironic," he muttered to himself as he thought of it all, footsteps echoing off the walls around him.