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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 20

(Continued from Chapter 19...)

My statement would prove true, and in the worst possible way. The Weyr-consciousness operated Tunnel Boring Machine moved with terrific, tireless, inhuman speed, until - roughly four days later, when we were about 419 kilometers down - we hit something, and when I say we hit something I mean we really hit it; with a tremendous crunching-grinding-sloshing noise the great TBM stalled, and then I was startled awake by the combined sounds of a horrified scream from Tsa'hik San'eya, and a cry of pure terror from Lompor. The combined sound startled me so badly, in fact, that I actually fell out of the cot in which I had previously been sleeping - a small, spartan thing tucked away in a darkened, secluded corner of the Command Center - but almost immediately, a pair of immensely strong Na'vi hands helped me to my feet.

'What... Lompor? What the--...?' The thoughts running through my head were muzzy and unclear and for a moment, all I could do was stand there, staring at him stupidly, blinking with eyes clogged with the grit of sleep. Moments later, however, the grogginess of sleep began to lift, enough such that I could form vaguely coherent questions. "Whadizzit? Whas goin' on? Wha'd we... wha'd we hit?" I asked him as he released me. It was not he whom answered my question, but San'eya. Swallowing hard she motioned for me to look at the triple-Holoscreen and see for myself. She wasn't in the mood for questions. Blood had drained from her face, leaving it sky-pale; a reaction I'd seen only once before from her, during the time I had told her of my terrible visions of 'They Who Could Not See.'

Gently pushing past her and Lompor, I gazed at the Holoscreen... and then, my grogginess disappeared in a rush as horror gripped my guts. As a child, I'd seen a painting in a museum that had almost given me nightmares. I hadn't thought of it in years; but now, it came back to me with terrible clarity. There, depicted upon the Holoscreen were faces, Na'vi faces - hundreds of them - each an island of flesh amidst an ocean of blood. Each one bore a horrified, tortured expression; each one was a soul forever damned by 'They Who Could Not See.' "What the hell...? What the fuck is that?" I murmured softly. Having moved to sit beside me, Tsa'hik San'eya - who was now resting her head in her hands - softly murmured, "Aywiya Vitra Txampay..." before falling silent. At this, a shiver coursed through my body.

'The Sea of Damned Souls' I thought, automatically translating her reply in my head, 'how... appropriate.' Another shiver coursed through me, then, as I thanked the Dragon Weyr profusely for the fact that the Holoscreens installed in the quarters of each Warrior and Hunter aboard the TBM were for entertainment only; they could be used to view anything but this! A moment later, however, I glared at the great Holoscreen, my eyes becoming little more than cold, hard chips of ice. 'We have to push through!' I thought. 'There's got to be something more than this shit!' Aloud, in Khalani, I said, "My friend, are you still with us?" Seconds later, through the psychic bond I shared with the Dragon Weyr I felt the great construct's affirmation, and annoyance.

"Pull back, purge systems, shield up!" I barked, but the sharp command was not needed, for the great Nexus was already doing so; upon one of the Holoscreens, a picture-in-picture view appeared, showing an external view of the TBM as - with a great 'whoosh' - gallons and gallons of blood and filth were violently purged from between the segmented joints of the great machine's snakelike body by its maintenance systems! Moments after the filth ceased to flow - and before more of it could enter - a thick, shimmering, cerulean shield of psionic energy snapped into place about the body of the Tunnel Boring Machine. With a slowly building whine, the machine's great cutting head began to spin once more - this time in reverse - to fling away any stuck filth still clinging to the blades, as the great machine itself backed off a little.

Then a moment later, the low whine began to increase in pitch as the cutting head started spinning once more in a forward motion, this time at almost five times its speed! "Issah'tu!" I barked to San'eya and Lompor, the Khalani equivalent of "A-ten-hut!", and as one they quashed their fear and snapped to attention, moving to stand beside me, their faces grim. "What now, ma Olo'eyktan?" asked Lompor, staring out at the Sea of Damned Souls. "Behold!" I crowed to him and San'eya, gesturing to the picture-in-picture view to draw their attention to it. "Look at how the atan of Txra'kon We'er protects the great machine! Not even the souls damned by 'They Who Cannot See' can stop us! We will push through!"

I will admit dear readers that I sounded somewhat like an evangelist. I will also state to you that, at first, my Na'vi companions were unsure of what they were looking at. But then, as they heard my words and saw the body of the machine surrounded by its protective shield - a shield that flared with brilliant cerulean light as it repelled the Aywiya Vitra Txampay, hope and courage welled within their hearts! With vigor that belied her age, Tsa'hik San'eya leaped into the air - almost hitting the ceiling of the TBM's Command Center - as she whooped, cheered and cackled with glee, whilst Lompor clapped a mighty hand down upon my shoulder, almost causing me to fall to the floor, as he roared, "Forward, ma Olo'eyktan! Forward!" An almost feral grin splitting my features, I gave the word to the Dragon Weyr... and the Dragon Weyr, happily, complied.

With a mechanical, almost Ikran-like shriek courtesy of its cutting head, the mighty TBM surged forwards, powering swiftly through the Aywiya Vitra Txampay, even as it churned said ocean into a foaming, bloody-pink froth! Whilst Tsa'hik San'eya gazed vividly at the Holoscreen, over the noise of the rapidly turning cutting head, Lompor shouted, "Once we have journeyed through Aywiya Vitra Txampay, what then?" Swiftly examining the visual, telemetry and radar data from the TBM's sensor suites - via a manual control panel, the Holoscreen, and various psychic linkages - I answered, "According to the machine's pxay aynari, one of their tunnels is directly below us; we will hit the bottom of Aywiya Vitra Txampay, and then break through into it, our final destination."

Lompor nodded thoughtfully, and then he responded, "And after that, then what?" At this, I shook my head, before shrugging my shoulders and replying, "I... I don't know, ma Tsmukan; the pxay tìsrung aytsyokx of Txra'kon We'er could not see any further past Aywiya Vitra Txampay -- all I know is that there is a tunnel below, leading further downward." At this, Lompor's eyes widened. "How deep do 'They Who Cannot See' dwell within our Nawm Sa'nok Eywa?" he asked. "I am unsure," I replied. "Because Txra'kon We'er's tìsrung aytsyokx could not search down here, we will not have any ma'pxs; pictures that tell us clearly where this tunnel of theirs will lead.

This is why I said, at the War Council, that we would need Txra'kon We'er's pxay tìfwew aynari; they will be able to create a ma'px for us as we journey, so that we may find our way back to the Tunneling Machine when the females have been rescued and 'They Who Cannot See' have been destroyed." At this, Lompor grinned viciously, but then, a moment later, a thought struck him and he turned to me, his face drawn with concern. "Ma Olo'eyktan" he began, "you said that a tx'un'el of theirs lies below Aywiya Vitra Txampay, and that this fngap machine of Txra'kon We'er must break through the ocean floor to reach the tunnel. If we do this, the filth of the Aywiya Vitra Txampay will fill the tunnel, and the tunnel will flood!"

At this, Tsa'hik San'eya gasped softly, her eyes widening with fright, but with a shake of my head, I raised my hands in a placating gesture as I replied, "Mawey, ma Olo', lu mawey! Not if I have the machine seal the tunnel breach behind us! That will stop the Aywiya Vitra Txampay from flooding the tunnel, which means our Tsampongu will be able to disembark safely." Lompor gave an approving nod. "And when we leave?" he asked. With a smile, I answered, "When we leave, I will have the Tunneling Machine unseal the breach, so that Txra'kon We'er can bring us home." Slyly, I continued,"Of course, the tunnel will flood, but by the time it does..."

"...we will all be back inside the machine, and on our way home!" Lompor concluded with a chuckle, as he caught on to what I was thinking. "Ha! They Who Cannot See will get a nasty surprise when their aykelku are flooded by the very Txampay that they created!" Grinning, I replied, "Exactly, ma Tsmukan!" With that said, Lompor and I lapsed into a comfortable silence, as we moved back to recline upon the reinforced leather sofa in front of the triple-Holoscreen. A short while later, Tsa'hik San'eya joined us and then - as the Tunnel Boring Machine continued to weave its way through the Sea of Damned Souls - she and I fell into a light sleep, leaning against each other, whilst Lompor continued to work on a Dream Catcher for his beloved.

Things were comfortable now... but they wouldn't stay that way for long... A day later - with yet another tremendous crunching-grinding-sloshing noise, a terrible wet sucking sound, and a mechanical whirring shriek of blades that almost sounded like a cry of triumph - the mighty Tunnel Boring Machine carved its way through the floor of the Sea of Damned Souls and then slithered wetly into the pressing, inky darkness of a new tunnel. Moments later, a 'ping' of alertness from the Dragon Weyr drew me from my examination of the manual control console. "Ah, good" I said quietly, "we're here..."

Upon hearing my quiet exclamation, Lompor practically leaped from the sofa. "We have arrived?" he asked. In response to his question, I queried the Dragon Weyr to make sure we had indeed arrived at the correct destination, and when its strong affirmation filled my thoughts, I nodded. "We have" I answered. "I am going to go out into the tunnel and check the seal that holds back the Aywiya Vitra Txampay; when I am sure that it is safe, I will call you and the rest of our Tsampongu so that we can begin the rescue mission. In the meantime, please return to your quarters, ma Tsmukan; give your weapons and armor a final check." With a curt nod of his head, Lompor went to do as I had asked, and once he had gone, I turned to San'eya.

"You should return to your quarters, and prepare yourself, too. As I told Lompor, when I am sure that it is safe to do so, I will call you and the rest of our Tsampongu. Okay?" With a softly uttered "Srane, ma Olo'eyktan," Tsa'hik San'eya bowed gently to me, and then - as she made her way to her quarters to don the armor I had made for her - I headed out of the TBM's Command Center and then made my way through its segmented body until I reached the middle of the great machine, whereupon I made my way over to one of its enormous docking ramps. As I approached the ramp, however, I was suddenly hit with a feeling of warning from the Dragon Weyr, followed by a manipulated vision...

Choking and suffocating, I struggled to breathe, but I could not; The air was unbreathable; thick, sticky, odious - like hot jelly in which all movements became difficult - for 'They Who Could Not See' had made it fetid and foul with the odor of their corruption... When the vision faded, as I stood there before the retracted docking ramp, I shivered. "Is the air really that bad?" I murmured, in English. The great construct's affirmation filled my thoughts, along with a brief summary of a report from the TBM's atmospheric monitoring suites: the air truly was that bad; thick with all-manner of toxins and decay so foul that - if I were to accidentally inhale it - even my Nanocyte Filter wouldn't be able to purge it from my lungs; only the environmentally compensating life-support systems of my battle armor would be able to protect me for any length of time.

"Very well, then" I replied with a nod, "I'm going out to check the tunnel breach seal. When I'm sure it's safe, I'll deploy the Observers, and then call out the War Party... followed lastly by our present for the enemy. Before you lower the TBM's docking ramps so the War Party can disembark, can you employ a minor compulsion to ensure they wear their helms? Since the group all passed the training, they should know and remember to wear them when entering hostile environs, but just in case anyone forgets, please compel them all to do so, okay?" A mixture of negation and neutrality filled my thoughts, then, and I heaved a weary sigh. "I know, my friend, I know... I loathe having you do this, since it's a minor form of mind control and it crosses lines we shouldn't cross, but it's a necessary evil; better I have you do this, than lose good people to the rotten air out there because someone hasn't got their helmet on!"

For a moment, through the powerful psychic bond I shared with the Dragon Weyr I felt nothing; within my mind there was only thought silence, and the horrible void in my head that was the remnant of my severed bond with Ieesha. Then, at last, a feeling of affirmation filled my thoughts; the Dragon Weyr would do as I had asked. At this - as I touched a small glyph-inscribed stud at the upper neck of my armor to don its Death Mask, and then lowered the TBM's docking ramp with a mental command - a sigh of relief escaped me, before I softly uttered, "Thank you, my friend." As the Dragon Weyr's reply of welcome filled my thoughts, I passed through the exit, then tentatively took a few steps onto the lowered docking ramp and carefully surveyed the area.

After a very short distance, the light from the brightly lit interior of the TBM faded to almost total darkness; fluorescent lichen was the most meager of light sources, letting me see nothing within the inky, fetid gloom but menacing, illusionary shadows. Without thinking, I activated the Night Vision function of my armor's mask - it would electronically amplify any available ambient light, giving me vision here equivalent to daylight hours on the surface - but then, as the tunnel was lit up, I wished I hadn't activated the function, at all! When the tunnel lit up, what appeared before my eyes, dear readers were stark, white, ribbed, almost organic-appearing walls that dripped with thick, viscous slime.

'Oh, yuck...' I thought to myself, and then - after carefully looking about to make sure any of 'They Who Could Not See' weren't lurking anywhere and that nothing was amiss - I swiftly walked down the docking ramp, before making my way to the back end of the TBM. There, I stopped and looked up. Above me, embedded within the ceiling of the tunnel, was a gargantuan, Nanocyte crafted psi-steel cap - the seal that held back the Sea of Damned Souls - which I had told San'eya and Lompor that I was going to check. Via the Visual Magnification function of my Death Mask, I 'zoomed' my view such that I could properly inspect the seal. The titanic seal appeared to be holding well indeed - only the barest few drops of the Sea of Damned Souls were managing to escape - but still, I wanted a second opinion.

"What do you think, my friend?" I asked softly. Concentration filled my thoughts, then, as through the many cameras and sensor suites of the TBM, as well as my own eyes, the Dragon Weyr carefully scrutinized the great seal. "Well" I asked softly, "will it hold, do you reckon?" A few moments after I had asked the question, a mixture of satisfaction, happiness, and apprehension filled my thoughts; the Dragon Weyr was sure that the seal would hold, but would monitor it, for safety's sake. At this, I heaved a huge sigh of relief, before I replied, "Good! Very good! Well... let's rock and roll!" With those words, I made my way to the front of the Tunnel Boring Machine and then - turning to face its enormous cutting head - I issued a powerful psychic call. ~Observers, Fall... IN!~