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Disclaimer: Blah, Blah, Blah. I don't own Avatar; James Cameron does. All the Avatar stuff belongs to him. However, my Na'vi character, myself, the Dragon Weyr and its technologies, and the Pandoran animals of my menagerie are all mine. The Protoss - apart from my characters - all belong to Blizzard Entertainment.

Pandora's Templar

A Work-In-Progress Story by Coranth Dehanae

Chapter 17

(Continued from Chapter 16...)

Two nights later, before myself and said Council, Lompor paced back and forth, his cyan-skinned face creased with a mixture of frustration and rage, until finally, he could take no more. Whirling about to face me, he loomed over me as I sat before the Clan, and thundered, "Bah! Enough words; there is no more time for talk! Somehow, we must find and strike against 'they who cannot see', ma Olo'eyktan, we must! Ma yawne Maena was dragged beneath kifkey Eywa'evengä by those ketuwong ayvrrtep and so was your companion, Txe'lan! Eywa only knows what has been done to them!" At his vehement words, murmurs of anger agreement and sympathy flowed as a wave through the assembled Clan whilst through my own thoughts understanding and sympathy from the Dragon Weyr coursed like a river; even the great Nexus was sympathetic at his plight.

My heart, too, ached for Lompor - he was my best student in the arts of martial combat and his Lifemate had always been hospitable to me whenever I'd stopped by their thípi to 'check in' on my morning and evening Walkabouts of the Homestead. From the moment the Dragon Weyr had told me that she, Txe'lan, and the other females of Clan Tawkami still lived, thoughts of a plan for how we might rescue them all had been foremost on my mind. Now, finally - after working up and running countless scenarios in my head prior to and during the convention of the War Council - I had come up with a workable plan, and so, I raised a hand for silence. Upon seeing my raised hand, Tsa'hik San'eya - whom was seated near my left side - called out, "Fnu, rutxe! Fnu, rutxe, frapo! Olo'eyktan Txa'vit would speak! Fnu, rutxe!"

I inhaled deeply, and then, I began to speak. "I have a plan for a rescue operation, but it will take time to complete, and it must be done perfectly." At my words, there was brief pause for thought, followed by murmurs of assent and near unanimous nodding. I made to continue speaking, then, but - brash, excited, and anxious to take the fight to the foe - one of the Clan's younger warriors brazenly spoke out, interrupting me. "What would you have us do, ma Olo'eyktan?" he asked, eagerly. "We can fight! We are ready!" Riled up by his excitement and eagerness to battle the foe, other young warriors whooped, hollered, and shouted assent. Lompor, whom had moved to stand near me, frowned with disapproval at the young upstart's actions, and then turned to me, giving a quick shake of his head.

Well versed in my tawtute arts as well as his own, my student did not approve of this one's actions, for such brashness and eagerness would only lead him to his death. With a nod of acknowledgement to him, I stood and then addressed the cocky fool. "TÌFNU," I thundered, my voice laced with psionic power, "YOU ARE NOT READY!" Despite the fact that I was only half his size and was not as strong as he, intimidated by the power of my voice as well as the commanding presence I exuded, the young warrior - Tsu'ket, son of Tìtxur and Tirea - cringed before me, as the group he'd swayed fell silent, lowering their heads and shuffling their feet with embarrassment. With them suitably chastised, I resumed speaking.

"As I was saying... This plan must be performed and executed perfectly; there will be no skxawng heroics in this - no fighting for such things as honor, pride or glory - because if we fail we may lose those we seek to save! None of you are ready for this yet, at all... but you will be..."_Then, there was silence in the Weyrheart - not a sound, save for the near-quiet background hum of the Dragon Weyr's electrical and psionic systems - as the Na'vi processed what I had said. Then, finally, one of the older warriors - Tìrey son of Vitra - spoke. _"What, then, is your plan, ma Olo'eyktan?" he asked. For a moment, I did not respond to his question; I merely closed my eyes in contemplation as I worked out the final few details of said plan. Then, opening my eyes to survey the entire Clan I began to speak.

"At least part of Tsa'hik San'eya's story of 'They who cannot See' is true; before they attacked us, I asked Txra'kon We'er to send out its pxay aytsyokx and use them to look below the land. They revealed the existence of many, many tunnels ; great passages hewn from the earth beneath kifkey Eywa'evengä. That is where they come from."_Suddenly, as I made to continue, I was abruptly cut off by Meuia, son of Nìteng as he angrily yelled, _"You knew of this?! You knew that there was going to be an attack?! Why did you not warn the Clan?" Raising a hand in a placating gesture, I answered, "I did not know about the attack until it was almost too late to..." I began, but again, the Na'vi Warrior cut me off, this time violently!

Before anyone could stop him, he darted forward and struck me hard in the gut, the blow staggering me and knocking the breath from my body as he got right in my face and yelled, "You lie! You lie to us, Tawtute! Even worse, why - when we were fighting - did you not fight as well? Why did you not help us, your brothers and sisters, during the battle?" Rage-fuelled murmurs and shouts of discontent followed his question, one for which I hadn't an answer. For how could I answer? How could I explain to this warrior - whose culture and civilization was so far removed from my own - of my People, the Protoss, and the somewhat conflicting Oaths I had to follow? The Dae'Uhl, which called upon me to watch over 'lesser' races such as his, and the Oath of the High Templar that forbade me from engaging in martial combat that might help me to better follow the Dae'Uhl.

There were no words in his language that would allow me to explain these Oaths, which I was honor-bound to uphold until death. I didn't have to explain anything, however, for as Meuia snarled and made to strike me again when I didn't reply, two things happened: first, Tsa'hik San'eya moved to support my wounded form; glaring angrily at Meuia she wrapped an arm about my shoulder as I clutched my stomach in pain and alternately fought to catch my breath. Then, before I could say or do anything to stop him, roaring with rage, Lompor descended upon Meuia and - as Clan Tawkami looked on, half in awe, and half in fear - proceeded to kick seven shades of shit out of him! Meuia tried to fight back, he really did, but Lompor wasn't the best Warrior of Tawkami for nothing; with incredible ease, he forced Meuia to his knees!

"Please, ma Tsmukan!"_the young warrior cried. _"I yield, I yield!" Growling softly, for a moment Lompor stared down at the impudent pup who had dared to attack his Olo'eyktan and Karyu, and then, he nodded, acknowledging the younger warrior's submission. "And well you should , you yaymak skxawng!" he snapped at the young pup. "Olo'eyktan Txa'vit did what he could; he bade us to be vigilant for an attack from 'They who could not see', and so we were, but even he did not know that they were preparing to launch an attack from below the land! You should also know that he follows a sacred Oath from his Homeland, Ay'rr, which forbids him from fighting with normal weapons; he can fight only with the nawm'atan of Txra'kon We'er!

Since becoming our Olo'eyktan, Txa'vit has done his best to be a good leader to us all; he has done his best to help us in all things, and has shown us nothing but his honor and the kindness of his heart! And you would repay him for the kindness he has shown us... by attacking him? How dare you? Return to your place!"_As Meuia bowed thankfully and then hurried to comply, Lompor cast an icy gaze across the entirety of Clan Tawkami, and then, raising his voice such that the entire Clan could hear him, he continued, _"All of you... all of you should be ashamed of yourselves," he said, softly. None among the Clan dared contradict him, or even speak at all; they had all seen what he had done to Meuia; thus, the reply the Master Warrior received was chagrined looks, and then a universal lowering of heads, followed by the shuffling of many feet.

With the upstart reprimanded, and the rest of the Clan stewing in their chastisement, Lompor heaved a deep sigh, and then turned to where I now sat heavily upon the leather sofa, leaning gently against the supporting body of Tsa'hik San'eya, my eyes closed as she softly stroked my head, running her hands through my hair. "Ma Olo'eyktan?" he asked quietly. "Are you well?" Opening my eyes to look at him, I softly replied, "I am, ma Tsmukan, and... thank you for protecting me, for fighting him when I could not. Meuia has learned his lesson, of that I am sure; I will not press the matter further, and - as strange as it may seem - I understand the reason for his anger, and why he did what he did.

I... I blame myself for all of this; if I had only thought to send the pxay tìsrung aytsyokx of Txra'kon We'er out to look below the land earlier, we might have been able to prepare ourselves better or perhaps even prevent the attack that they made upon us."_I lapsed into silence for a moment, and then, sitting up straight - allowing San'eya's hand to fall supportively to my shoulder - I addressed the entire Clan. _"As it is, we can only move forward. We must go to where 'they who cannot see' dwell, but we will not go there alone. I shall try to call upon the Pa'li, Kilvan, and Ikran Clans to help us." At this, the Weyrheart filled with murmurs of agreement - the Clan was pleased with this choice - and for a moment, I allowed a brief smile to cross my face.

Said smile soon became a frown, however, when another of my people spoke up. "But how will we journey to where 'they who cannot see' dwell, ma Olo'eyktan?" said the Nantang caretaker, Txon'taw. "We all saw what happened, when they fled! The - what is the word? Tx'un'el? - closed behind them!" With a nod of acknowledgement to him, I replied, "I know, ma tsmukan... and that... that is why we must open it again." As those words softly echoed within the cavernous living space of the Weyrheart, a tense silence took their place. Said silence was soon broken, however, when Txon'taw - his voice laced with building anger - asked, "Are you saying that... that we must violate the land ourselves? That we must dig a tx'un'el of our own to reach the ones where they dwell?"

Softly, I uttered prayers first to Adun, and then to Eywa, before answering, "Srane... but you would not have to do it yourselves! I know that the land of kifkey Eywa'evengä is sacred, and I would not ever ask you to... to wound the Great Mother in this way. But, think of it like this: the Great Mother is already wounded; these foul vrrtep things dwell inside her like a disease that, until now, has not been cured." Overwhelmed and tired, I rested my head in my hands for a moment, as another of my Clan spoke out, "The First Toruk Makto was the cure! He drove them below our land, and then they did not hurt the lands and the People of kifkey Eywa'evengä anymore... until you came!"

At the end of that statement there came a raucous din of anger and agreement fueled murmurs, until Tsa'hik San'eya - her golden eyes glittering with rage - leapt to her feet and yelled out " TIFNU! How DARE you blame Olo'eyktan Txa'vit for this! 'They who cannot see' did not just return because of Txa'vit, you yaymak ayskxawng!" As stunned silence descended upon the Clan, she continued. "When the First Toruk Makto drove them beneath the land, he did so because they were too strong a foe; it was all he could do - even with the power of the other Clans beside him - and when he did this, 'They who could not see' did not perish! They lived... and they grew. Why is it, do you think, that some young children and animals whom become lost or separated from their parents sometimes disappear, never to be found, no matter how far hunters search?"

At this, the one who'd spoken out rebuffed the Tsa'hik. "That has never happened to us before!" Noises of anger and affirmation followed. "Because," San'eya replied, "in the past, we have been very lucky; Eywa has protected us as best she can! Now... now Txra'kon We'er keeps us safe." Strong affirmation from the Dragon Weyr filled my thoughts at that, as San'eya - her golden eyes like hardened chips of ice - continued, " They are still here, and are still a threat poised to strike at us, the unwary prey. What Toruk Makto did was akin to placing a dressing on an infected wound; at first glance, it seems clean, but still the wound festers within! Now, our Olo'eyktan proposes to open up that wound within our Great Mother Eywa and purge the infection... possibly for good! Am I right, ma Olo'eyktan?"

Her words seemed to have an effect upon the Clan; the mood of my People again changed from anger to a mixture of excitement and eagerness as they waited to hear the rest of my plan. A smile gracing my features, I nodded to her - heaving an internal sigh of relief - as I replied, "You are, Tsa'hik. As I was saying... I will attempt to gain the support of the local Clans. Whilst we wait for them to arrive, I will ask Txra'kon We'er to build a great machine that will reopen the tunnel that 'They who cannot see' used to travel here. Whilst this is happening, I will train you all - and the People of the other Clans, if they choose to help us and arrive quickly - in the use of some of Txra'kon We'er's most powerful, and deadly weapons."

Looking at my people gravely, I continued, "These weapons are not at all like the bows, spears and axes with which you have been gifted, and the training I shall give you so that you might use them effectively will be very dangerous. Any foolish mistakes could cost you your lives..." At my words, many among the Clan looked unsettled but the Warriors and Hunters of Tawkami - Oo'ano and Lompor among them - merely gazed back at me solemnly; they'd heard similar speeches from their aykaryu long, long ago. "Along with new weapons," I continued, "I shall build for you suits of 'armor' - fngapä ta'leng for your bodies - which will give you extra protection against whatever we might encounter."

At this, the Warriors and Hunters of my Clan grinned almost eagerly, whilst the various Craftspeople of my Clan seemed interested and excited at the thought of seeing yet more of the amazing items that could be produced with the aid of the Dragon Weyr's Psi-Forge. "But what of the females?" asked one of the Clan's Healers, a man named Yayo. "They could be anywhere beneath kifkey Eywa'evengä! How do we find and rescue them once we are down there?" At his question, I grinned, and then - with a thought - bade the Dragon Weyr form a cloud of its Nanocytes into a small aerospace drone. When said drone appeared before them - upon seeing it for the first time - the adults of the Clan were stunned and amazed for they hadn't ever seen anything like it before.

The children of the Clan, however, looked upon the little drone with near reverence, for they knew it was one of Txra'kon We'er's O'px'rr'vr'sx; one of its pxay tìfwew aynari, or 'many searching eyes.' These ketuwong machines were very hiyìk, because they could not be seen at all with the eyes, and only those children of the Clan with aytswin modified by Txra'kon We'er could sense them; a funny tingling sensation began in their aytswin when they were near. Although quite hiyìk - like the pxay tìsrung aytsyokx - the pxay tìfwew aynari were helpful to the Clan; one or two would often accompany groups of Hunters whilst they tracked their prey during long hunts, and it was also known that many watched over the village and the People, too.

Unfortunately, however, even though they were helpful, the pxay tìfwew aynari were very, very shy and flighty; no matter how much they begged and pleaded, the little machines would not allow the children to see, or even make Tsaheylu with them! Partly because it was curious, and partly because Txra'kon We'er coaxed it gently, as the beautiful and delicate little golden tawsìp moved this way and that way among the assembled Clan - darting away whenever one of the People tried to touch it - little Sìlpey empathized with it, for it seemed especially fearful. The little ketuwong machine had reason to be afraid, Sìlpey thought; it had just been born, and placed among strangers it didn't know, without the powerful hawnu that hid it from sight!

Thus, when it approached and hovered before her - instead of reaching out to try and grab it like others had done - she began to sing to it a soft, soothing lullaby, one that her Sunu had taught her. "Pamtseol ngop ayrenut; Mì ronsemä tìfnu; Tengfya ngop säftxuyul; Mì hifkey; Awnga rol fte kivame; Kame fte rivol; Rerol tengkr kerä; Ìlä fya'o avol; Ne kxamtseng; Aywayl yìm kifkeyä; 'Ìheyut avomrr; Sìn tireafya'o avol; Na waytelemä hìng; Awnga rol fte kivame; Kame fte rivol; Rerol tengkr kerä; Ìlä fya'o avol; Ne kxamtseng." The simple melody - which was called the Tree Song - seemed to soothe the tìfwew nari, for as the sound of her voice faded the machine slowed, and then finally settled in her arms whereupon she cradled it gently as it fell asleep, the eampin atan at its front growing dim.

It was such an amazing and beautiful thing, Sìlpey thought, as she gently ran a hand along its side. She was pulled from her musings, however, when she heard the gentle sound of a throat being cleared. Her sanhì glowing brilliantly due to her embarrassment, she looked up... to find that the entire Clan was staring at her, openmouthed! Even the Tsa'hik and Olo'eyktan were looking her way, the former with mild irritation and the latter with a curious smile. Feeling somewhat sheepish, she returned her attention to Olo'eyktan Txa'vit, as he resumed speaking. Struggling to suppress an amused grin, softly, I asked, "May I resume speaking without being interrupted, please?" A unanimous nodding of heads, as well as softly muttered apologies along with more than a few chuckles was the reply I received and so I continued.

Gesturing to the Observer which was currently cradled in Sìlpey's arms in standby, I said, "To find our females, we will use the pxay aynari of Txra'kon We'er; they will be able to search for them better than we might be able to down there." The Healer, Yayo, nodded at this, and then he asked, "And when we find them? What then?" Reaching into a pocket of my robe to withdraw a portable Warp Beacon, I answered, "Then, I attach one of these to each of the females, and Txra'kon We'er will bring them home." At the sight of the Warp Beacon, the entire Clan - especially Lompor - cheered, for they knew what it was; it was the sä'o that made the nawm'atan to always guide them home. "After that" I continued, once the Clan had settled, "we will crush the enemy! For what they have done to us, we will deliver them all unto the embrace of Eywa!"