Chapter 623: The Past
The Na'vi hunter's stubbornness and hostility wore through Maine's patience.
He could tell this warrior was not acting without reason, but operated on an entirely different set of values rooted in the planet's ecology. In the context of the current conflict, however, such values were out of place and an active obstacle to operations.
"Put away your bow and get out of here," Maine's voice turned cold. "Otherwise, I won't hesitate to give you a firsthand demonstration of what a true 'expulsion' looks like."
Provoked by Maine's words, the Na'vi hunter let out a guttural growl. Tossing aside his longbow, he drew a bone dagger from his belt and lunged forward with raw power and leopard-like speed.
Yet in Maine's eyes, the charge was riddled with openings.
Without drawing a weapon, Maine leaned aside to slip past the linear thrust. His right hand clamped around the hunter's wrist like an iron vise, twisting the joint while his left leg delivered a swift, controlled sweep directly into the hunter's pivot leg.
With a crisp crack and a muffled grunt of pain, the massive warrior lost balance. Using the hunter's momentum, Maine slammed him hard into the ground, sending the bone dagger spinning into the dirt.
Maine dropped a knee onto the hunter's upper back, pinning him down securely.
The entire exchange was over in under three seconds.
The hunter struggled violently, but Maine's physical strength far exceeded his expectations. Beneath that ordinary-looking exterior lay terrifying, heavily augmented power. The Na'vi warrior's golden eyes filled with humiliation and disbelief.
Maine did not deliver a lethal blow; his goal was merely restraint. The fact that this Na'vi spoke fluent English was a valuable piece of intelligence in itself.
"You speak our language," Maine looked down at him. "Who taught you?"
The pinned hunter breathed heavily in fury, refusing to answer.
At that moment, the shaken RDA squad leader, supporting his wounded comrade, panted toward Maine: "Th-thank you. That guy... he probably learned it at Dr. Grace's school..."
"A school?" Maine looked over at him.
"Yeah... a long time ago," the squad leader's face showed a complicated expression. "Back then... when we first set foot on Pandora, things... weren't like this."
The Days Before the War
After confirming the immediate perimeter was clear, Maine had Dorio and Rebecca maintain watch while Falco administered field dressings to the wounded RDA soldier.
The pinned Na'vi hunter remained under firm control. Though he stopped thrashing violently, his golden eyes burned with defiance.
The RDA squad leader, a young sergeant named Miller, sat back against a tree trunk. He began to recount the past, as if talking helped ease the lingering panic, while also explaining to these powerful allies that the current state of affairs had not formed overnight.
"That was over ten years ago," Miller said with a nostalgic tone. "Back when the RDA was just getting established on Pandora, and Hell's Gate was still in its early construction phase. Corporate policy—at least publicly—favored peaceful research and coexistence."
He pointed to the pinned hunter. "Kids like him—many young Na'vi back then—were permitted by their clans to attend the school near our base. It was run by a scientist named Dr. Grace Augustine. She was... very stubborn, but she genuinely wanted to understand the Na'vi and Pandora."
"The school taught them English, introduced them to basic human technology, and tried to understand their culture and their connection to Eywa—the planetary consciousness they revere. Back then, we even had a revolutionary initiative: the Avatar Program." A spark lit up Miller's eyes. "Through genetic engineering, human DNA was combined with Na'vi DNA to grow surrogate bodies in Na'vi form. Pilots could connect through link units to project their consciousness into these Avatars, breathing, running, and... communicating with them as true Na'vi."
"Relations weren't so strained back then," an older, weathered soldier chimed in. "We helped build sturdy shelters for them and provided medical aid—or at least we tried. The higher-ups probably thought that by exporting culture and technology, we could gradually influence them into accepting our presence, perhaps even... voluntarily yielding land for mining."
"Mining..." Miller's tone dropped. "That's where everything went wrong. The room-temperature superconductor beneath Pandora's soil, Unobtanium, was simply too valuable. As the base expanded, demand skyrocketed, and the strip-mining operations inevitably encroached upon the sacred forests, destroyed their Hometrees, and disturbed their sacred beasts."
"They began resisting fiercely," the older soldier continued. "From peaceful protests to small skirmishes. They believed we were butchering the forest, tearing open the skin of their Great Mother, and disrupting the balance of Eywa. Meanwhile, corporate leadership lost patience, writing the blue natives off as savages blocking progress and development."
"Dr. Grace and her team tried everything to de-escalate and find common ground... but it was useless," Miller shook his head. "The financial stakes were too high. Hardliners like Colonel Quaritch took control, and corporate HQ signed off on aggressive measures. The school was shuttered, and the Avatar Program... heard it got redirected toward military applications. Relations deteriorated step by step until we ended up here—where seeing each other means fighting to the death."
He cast a complex look at the pinned hunter. "He might well be one of the kids who learned English in that classroom. Now, he's an enemy holding a bow and blade, trying to take our lives."
Parting Words
A brief silence descended over the clearing, broken only by the ambient murmurs of the jungle and the low whines of the injured Viperwolves.
Maine's squad listened quietly. While indifferent to human internal politics, the intelligence gave them essential context regarding the theater of conflict.
Upon hearing the names of Dr. Grace and the Avatar Program, the pinned hunter's eyes flickered slightly, though the emotion was quickly swallowed by rage.
He hissed through gritted teeth: "You promised peace! You promised respect! Yet your machines never stopped devouring the forest! Your lies are sharper than the fangs of a Viperwolf!"
Maine released his grip and stepped back, keeping his eyes on him.
The Na'vi hunter struggled to his feet. Clutching his injured arm, he glared with utter hatred at every human present, including Maine's squad.
"Eywa will witness your crimes!" he spat, scooping up his bone dagger and bow before stumbling away, disappearing into the bioluminescent forest without looking back.
Maine made no move to stop him.
A live, English-speaking hunter with a grudge and knowledge of human ways was far more useful returning to his people than lying dead—serving either as a future intelligence conduit or as a catalyst hardening native resolve against the Sky People.
"We should head back as well," Maine told the RDA squad. "Can you walk?"
Sergeant Miller nodded quickly. "Yes. Thank you... If it weren't for you, we wouldn't have made it out alive today."
He hesitated briefly before adding, "Regarding what happened today, and that Na'vi... we will submit a full report to Base Command."
Maine gave a noncommittal nod. Whether they filed a report mattered little; what mattered was that they had secured key operational intelligence.