( PANDORA'S BOX )
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chapter 3: imposter syndrome.

THE world around her hummed with life, a cacophony of rushing water, flowing breeze, and animal calls filling the denseness of the Pandoran jungle. It was a lullaby Ruth Carson had grown to appreciate in the years since she'd started calling the moon known as Polyphemus home, protecting it with everything she lived and breathed.

The woman's presence within the moon's endless expanse remained masked as she hunted, foliage hiding her body and her scent downwind. It had taken a few years to learn the necessary finesse of a lethal hunter, but she was now as skilled as any within the Omaticaya with her bow.

Movements inaudible, she was silent death for anything unlucky enough to be targeted by her arrows.

Balanced on the balls of her feet with her tail maintaining her balance behind her, Ruth held a drawn arrow on the string of her bow. The muscles of her arms slowly began to burn the longer she held the tension, and she controlled her breathing to remain steady. Honing her focus on the mature hexapede grazing roughly thirty yards ahead, she anticipated a successful hunt.

Her stubbornness never allowed her to return to the clan empty-handed.

It was a quick sequence of events once her arrow loosened from its notch, jettisoning through the air in less than a blink of an eye and landing in the airway of the animal. After emitting a dying squall upon impact, the animal thudded to the forest floor as a clean and merciful kill with little to no resistance before becoming still.

Victorious, Ruth descended from her hiding place and processed the animal quickly, gathering the usable ingredients she'd take back to the clan. She'd leave what remained for scavengers of the forest, giving the kill more purpose beyond nourishing the people. Giving back to nature. Her hunts were quick and clean, she always ensured that.

Finding her sunset-colored ikran, Denver in the canopy above, Ruth secured the gathered meat and other sinewy materials on the saddle's stowage and took off through the canopy towards the sky.

The flight back to the Omaticayan dwellings often brought her close enough to see what remained of Hometree, the former ancestral home of the Omaticaya. After the battle and all of the fallout that had come with it, the clan turned towards rebuilding. Ruth had tried her best to do the same, yet the echo of Tsu'tey's death lingered with her wherever she went.

Ruth frowned as her squinted eyes focused on the tree's dilapidated form, memories flashing across her mind like ghostly pain. It had been roughly fifteen years, but the wounds that were unseen never seemed to heal like the ones on the skin. They endured, lingering with the soul.

What remained of the tree was a stark scar against the green expanse of the jungle, the trunk long turned a grey-brown color with the years passed. Luckily, the ashes that had fallen that fateful day had sprung up an abundance of life, the remaining trunk and colossal branches seemingly to remain for eons. A nest for forest ikran and other winged creatures.

With the desolation the clan faced, many children were made orphans after the destruction of the tree and the battle that had ensued weeks after. Per her due diligence, Ruth had done her best to become a familiar figure to those left without, taking on three of the children herself. Anything to help rebuild, to stay focused on the future to come. To stay busy.

Ruth's arrival to high camp was pleasant per usual. After descending from the crags of the cave that the clan's ikran roosted in with her contribution in hand, her kids rushed up to meet her.

"Tsadnuk!" Kina exclaimed, flashing her canines with a toothy grin. Her beaded braids swung with her movements as she and Ruth's two other adopted children followed after her as she walked. Though not her blood, they had always referred to her as mother.

"Tsadnuk! Will you take us today?" Seyu begged, his hands clasped together in a desperate display. She was amused by his dramatic behavior befit of a teenager.

"We've been waiting all day for you to get back," Kina moaned. Her shoulders slumped and head tilted back in exasperation, the beads in her braids clinking together. "We want to find those pretty rocks for our songcords."

Ruth chuckled, patting Kina gently on the back. Though nearing young adulthood, the three of them still held a youthful vigor about them.

Ruth had been fluent in the Na'vi language before even arriving to Pandora as a human, all those years ago, therefore it had blended into her mind just as well as english. Truthfully, she couldn't remember the last time she'd spoken her own language. Nevertheless, she'd made the effort to teach her children English despite their conversations usually being their mother tongue.

The three of them had been asking her almost daily to go with them into the forest. With her responsibilities and general work ethic, she'd asked for rain checks each time. Ruth had promised the three of them that they would go searching for the stones she had spotted in a riverbed during a hunt one day, but she'd been so busy distracting herself that she'd forgotten. She'd been afraid of what finding the stones meant, the transition it symbolized in their young lives, but she wouldn't admit that to them.

"I promised you all we would at some point," she replied to her children. "But I need to take my kill to the cooks."

"You're always busy," Ri'naya remarked almost passive aggressively after being silent the entire time, her tail flicking in discontent. Her daughter's words stung more than Ruth would like to admit. "We're going to be completing our Iknimaya soon and we will need the stones."

Stopping and turning to face the three of them, Ruth adjusted the bundle of meat to sit under her arm. "I have been busy," she sighed admittedly. She looked between the three of them, at their varied shades of yellow-green eyes. They were all nearing young adulthood, soon to seek their place within the clan like everyone did.

Some part of her had been avoiding it all. She didn't want to lose any of them to the dangers of claiming an ikran or the dream hunt. Let alone the trek up the floating mountains that could turn deadly with one misstep. That was all without considering the hazardous encounter with the animals themselves.

She didn't want to be reminded they were getting older, or that they could very well perish in the rights they were to participate in. She didn't want to lose them. Just as she had Tsu'tey. No matter the short time she'd had with him, she believed he'd been her other half. Visiting the Tree of Souls was the only time she was able to stave the grief, seeing him in memories where he was unaware of his death.

All of these children had been orphans. And she'd been a mother to them. Yet, she'd been letting them down. Avoiding the acknowledgment that they were indeed growing older. Soon to become adults. They could easily retrieve the stones themselves, but they wanted her with them to pick only the best stones. Their mother.

"I promise, we will go soon," she told the three of them. "We will be sure to pick the best stones for your songcords."

The song cords she'd added beads to over the years, marking each of their life events. Each with their own song that she knew by heart. Each of their cords held a stone for her, and her cord held three for each of them. An amberish stone for Ri'naya, a greenish-blue for Seyu, and an opalescent one for Kina.

"Maybe you three could see what Lo'ak, Kiri, and Neteyam are doing?" She suggested. Jake and Neytiri's three eldest were friends of her adopted children with their ages similar. Her children were a couple of years senior to Neteyam, but the six of could often be found hanging around each other.

"Fine," Ri'naya muttered. Of the three of the children, she was the most hardened and sharp tongued, quick to anger but with a heart thay loved fiercely. Much like Ruth. "Will we be seeing you for dinner?"

That stung as well.

"Of course," Ruth replied, ignoring the jab. She hugged all three of them with her free arm. "Save me a spot."

With guilt filling her, Ruth made her way to the common hollow where food was prepared at all times of the day to feed everyone on their varying schedules. Nestling within a shallow curve of a tiny sheer of stone, woven tapestries added more shelter from above. A perpetual hearth was stoked at all times, ready to cook.

There, Ruth found Neytiri chopping fruit with her knife. A few others worked around her, idle chatter among them.

"You are back early," Neytiri said by way of acknowledgment, her gaze tearing from her work only momentarily to look to Ruth.

As Ruth set the bundle of meat next to the flame to be prepared by whoever arrived to cook, Ruth said, "I collected what I needed. There is much I need to do here."

"You have done more than enough today," Neytiri said as she picked up chopped pieces and dropped them into a bowl fashioned from a shell.

Ruth sighed, crossing her arms. She avoided looking at Neytiri, her gaze focused on the slowly burning fire. "Idleness is not for me."

"You have not taken time to rest," Neytiri berated her gently.

"I'll rest when I'm dead."

"A ridiculous notion."

"One that won't matter, once I'm dead."

"You're not taking care of yourself."

"What would please you, then?" Ruth muttered. She crossed her arms, looking down at Neytiri where she sat with knife in hand. "I enjoy working and keeping myself busy. What of it?"

Neytiri half frowned, half grimaced. "You have been weary as of late. More than usual."

And it had shown enough for her to notice. Usually, Ruth was good at hiding her feelings. The negative ones, at least. It had been nearly fifteen years, yet she'd punished herself with loneliness ever since Tsu'tey drew his last breath. Like a vigil, she was meant to bear for the rest of her days.

"I have been an absent mother," she muttered in defeat. There was no way of working around Neytiri's incessant-though kind- prodding. Ever a mother, Ruth's adoptive sister would train her efforts toward seeing her happy again.

Truthfully, Ruth had been suffering particularly hard in the recent months. It appeared loneliness had finally caught up to her, along with the realization that her kids were finally growing up.

She'd tried a handful of times in the years since the Battle to find another, but she'd never been able to find someone who could fill that crater Tsu'tey had left. Instead, she'd focused on her children. Their coming-of-age rights were daunting in the near future.

Between hunting, flying, and helping the Avatar team with research, and parenting her kids, Ruth hadn't allowed herself to rest. Resting brought contemplation, which brought more suffering the longer she dwelled in it.

"Perhaps it's time to seek another again," Neytiti murmured.

"I've tried."

"That was long ago."

"I'm fine."

"You are lonely."

"I have my children."

"But it is a mate you long for," Neytiri said with a bite in her tone. "Others may be content being alone. But it is obvious you are not."

Ruth sneered at the truth in her words. "When pigs fly."

"I do not know what that means."

Ruth sighed.

THERE was a plan now. A purpose, at least enough of one that Riley was able to shake off the anxiety that had been lingering since he woke up. He felt a little peace wash over him as he followed after Quaritch and Price as they left the command center, mission in hand and a task to complete. Handling Jake Sully, Ruth Carson, and their Na'vi insurgency would be easy, but Riley found himself already questioning what their purpose would be after that. He wouldn't assume it would be anything short of imposing violence or order wherever the RDA saw fit.

A question lingered in his mind, one he was too afraid to find the answer to. Were they the property of the RDA, doomed to serve out their second chance of life as payment for a second chance?

Once they stepped outside headquarters, the warmth of the sunlight hit Riley's skin like a warm embrace compared to the crisply air-conditioned building they'd previously been in. Price and Quaritch stopped near the railing of the walkway and turned to him, the two looking like utter war machines with their muscular limbs and straight, unyielding posture.

Riley drew in a deep breath of the fresh air around him, grimacing under his mask at the industrial smells that flooded his senses. Gases, fumes, oil,and more. He'd begun to think the heightened senses of his body were sometimes more of a bane than an advantage.

"Straight and simple, LT," Quartich said as he crossed his arms over his broad chest. "It should be easy enough to find Sully and Carson and handle this, cut and dry. You've got a good enough understanding of the mission at hand. Brief the other kids and get them ready and we'll roll out in the morning." He smirked. "I've never seen a mission you couldn't complete, Ghost. I have faith in you and the others."

There was nothing else to say to it. Riley was known for his prowess in planning and delegeting such important matters as this. He'd would do as was ordered. The peace of having a mission now was a relief.

With a nod of farewell, Quartich stepped away and began to walk away, leaving only Riley and Price.

Despite his willingness to carry out his duties, the lieutenant couldn't help but cringe internally. He had failed a mission in the past when he'd died and the Na'vi had won. Thinking back to the last time Quaritch had said something similar to them, with a promise of a fruitful mission before he and the other recoms all perished in the battle fifteen years ago, it felt like déja vu.

Quaritch had promised an easy operation, claiming bows and arrows couldn't beat the firepower that Hell's Gate had to offer. A trivial notion that the neo-lithic-like humanoid race of Pandora could possibly come out on top. The similarities to the current situation were eerily familiar, enough to make him feel somewhat uneasy at the realization.

"Next move: find the others and brief them on the mission as the Colonel said," Price ordered him. "Before chow, get them to central issuing. We'll be forming up on the tarmac at zero-six to get a flight out of base. We'll be taking off at around zero-seven."

Riley nodded. Simple enough. "Roger, sir."

After navigating the massive infrastructure of buildings, he found the other recoms in the common area of the barracks, all standing around and chatting idly since the scarce amount of furniture available in the first place was human-sized. Everything was human-sized for the most part, forcing any of them to duck anytime they went through one of the human walkways.

"Mission has come down from the top," Riley said loud enough to halt their chatter and draw their attention to him. They wandered over, forming a semi-circle in front of him.

"Finally," Lyle muttered exasperatedly.

"We getting out of dodge?" Z-dog asked after the bubble of gum she'd been blowing popped.

"After chow, we're heading to issue. Then tomorrow morning we're forming up on the tarmac at zero-six and heading out at zero-seven," he watched as they all seemed to perk at the chance to finally do something.

AFTER chow, the team made their way to the armory to be assigned their rifles. After each of the recoms was passed their weapon and a cleaning kit, they got to work. The standard practice of keeping one's arm's cleaned even upon issuing had apparently not been lost between their intermittent existence.

"We can finally see how these bodies work out in the jungle," Mansk said within earshot of Riley as he cleaned individual parts. The others nodded in agreement, excited expressions.

"Maybe we can try swinging from the trees, yeah?" Soap said with a lopsided grin to Gaz with a poke of his elbow, knocking the can of lubricating fluid Gaz had been spraying onto a portion of his weapon out of his hand.

Lyle beamed as he racked the slide of his weapon to distribute the fluid, saying, "I mean, shit- imagine the fuc-"

"That's enough," Riley half growled as he shoved his finger into his weapon's star chamber, thankfully finding it clean as can be. "At least try to retain some professionalism. We're not animals."

He didn't want to hear about the vile and lustrous thoughts the recoms were having as they continued to learn their new bodies. Despite the age of their consciousness, they'd all been deposited into the bodies of young adult aliens. Riley would be lying to himself if he said that the hormones that came with that fact weren't bothering him, but he wasn't verbal in the way the others had been.

"Close enough, aren't we LT?" Z-dog replied to Riley with a smirk from where she stood with a leg perched on a bench, racking her weapon after spraying lubricating fluid all over the bolt carrier group. "We're blues now. The only difference between them and an animal is a bow and arrow."

"And the difference between us and the savages is our guns." Soap chimed in soon after from where he sat next to Gaz.

"They will learn soon enough," König muttered in his heavy Austrian accent from where he was going over his massive weapon. The first he'd spoken since landing, Riley realized.

"A man of so few words," Soap remarked quietly.

"One look at our living battering ram will have them scared shitless," Lyle chirped, aiming his weapon in a direction so as to not flag the others in the room with the end of the barrel. "I ain't ever seen one as big as him."

Riley stayed quiet as he went to deposit his rifle into the locker that contained all of his newly issued equipment. As the other recoms carried on behind him, he looked into the little mirror at the back of the locker. Under his mask, he frowned.

"You good, LT?" Soap asked, having appeared at his side to put his own weapon away.

"Yea. I'm fine," he muttered. Closing the locker door, he disrupted the reflection he'd been forced to look at.

"You've been acting real weird since we woke up, boss," Soap prodded, but not without genuine concern. "Something got you down?"

Seeing it as an opportunity to finally speak his feelings, Riley nodded. "Have you been feeling weird, since waking up? Mentally, I mean."

Soap shook his head, shrugging. "No. Everything's the same except for the obvious additions," he gestured to his tail. "It feels as if I woke up right before we went to battle and died, as we've been told."

A jolt of uneasiness washed over the lieutenant. Maybe he really was going crazy, a genetic dud for whatever recom they had actually wanted. The human version of himself would have never felt this way.

"You're right," Riley said with an effort to change his tone and demeanor. "It must be in my head."

He left Soap where he stood at the wall of lockers.