Hell's Gate Base, Command Center Meeting Room.
The air inside was thick with the scent of disinfectant and machine oil, a stark contrast to the vibrant, life-filled atmosphere of Pandora outside.
On one side of the long metal conference table sat the representatives of the exploration team led by Maine. On the other side were the RDA's key figures: Base Administrator Parker Selfridge—a man with immaculately groomed hair and shrewd eyes—and Security Head Colonel Miles Quaritch. Quaritch sat with his massive frame clad in combat fatigues, arms crossed, making no effort to hide the scrutiny and suspicion in his gaze.
"Mr. Maine," Parker said, tapping his fingers lightly on the table with a practiced, corporate smile. "Your story is... interesting. A deep-space navigation accident, a jump engine failure, a crash landing on Pandora. I must say, it's quite imaginative."
Colonel Quaritch let out a cold snort, cutting in with a blunt, abrasive tone. "Imagination doesn't put food on the table. The RDA has the most sophisticated monitoring network in this planet's orbit. In the last five years, there has been no record of any unauthorized vessel-class object crashing. This Seeker of yours—did it quietly disintegrate in some forgotten corner, or did it never exist at all?"
Faced with the interrogation, Maine remained calm. He had long anticipated that they wouldn't easily swallow a hastily concocted cover story.
He responded steadily, "The mysteries of the universe far exceed our current understanding, Mr. Selfridge, Colonel. A space-time disturbance triggered by a jump failure could easily have interfered with your monitoring. Or perhaps our escape pods were simply too small to trigger your alarms. What matters is that we are standing here now, representing a possibility."
"What kind of possibility?" Parker arched an eyebrow.
"The possibility of mutual benefit," Maine said, his gaze sweeping over the two men. "We have observed your operations. Your efficiency... has room for improvement. Furthermore, you seem to be plagued by the problem of the locals."
Colonel Quaritch leaned forward, radiating an oppressive aura. "Our strategy regarding the Na'vi is clear. We don't need outsiders sticking their noses in."
"It's not about interference," Dorio spoke up, her voice calm and clear. "It's about providing tools. The reconnaissance capability we demonstrated earlier is just the tip of the iceberg. We also have some... unique insights regarding materials science and the miniaturization of energy weapons."
Her words piqued Parker's interest. As the Base Administrator, his greatest pressure came from shareholders demanding profit and efficiency. Any technology that could reduce costs or increase output was worth his attention. And while Quaritch maintained a tough front, his security forces frequently suffered casualties in skirmishes with the Na'vi due to company regulations—which restricted the use of large-scale military-grade weaponry. He wouldn't completely ignore any means of enhancing his firepower.
"Tell me more. What kind of 'tools'?" Parker asked.
Instead of answering directly, Maine reached into a metal case he had brought and pulled out a firearm roughly one meter long. It was dark gray with fine heat-dissipation fins on its surface, compact in structure, and styled unlike any weapon in the RDA's arsenal.
"This is a prototype individual energy weapon we use," Maine said, placing it on the table. "It fires focused plasma bolts rather than chemical-propellant projectiles. It has considerable stopping power against unarmored biological targets and can inflict effective damage on light vehicles. More importantly, its ammunition consists of high-efficiency energy cells. There's no need to carry bulk physical ammo, which significantly reduces logistical pressure."
Quaritch's eyes sharpened. Though not a technical expert, he could see the potential value of such a weapon. Energy weapons? This surpassed the ballistic firearms commonly used by the RDA.
"Demonstrate," Quaritch said, short and to the point.
In a closed testing range within the base, an RDA technician operated the plasma rifle under the remote guidance of Pilar (who had been allowed into the base to assist with the demo). The targets were a block of ballistic gel simulating Na'vi musculoskeletal structure and a piece of discarded AMP suit armor plating.
A bolt of brilliant white plasma shot out silently—the weapon featured high-efficiency internal suppression—instantly piercing the ballistic gel and leaving a deep, molten-edged crater in the armor plate. Its penetration and destructive power far exceeded the RDA's standard-issue rifles.
Parker and Quaritch watched the results, falling silent for a moment. The power of this weapon clearly flirted with the boundaries of the "non-military" equipment permitted to the RDA; it might have even crossed the line. But that power was undeniably seductive.
"This technology... you're willing to provide it?" Parker asked cautiously.
"Technical sharing is negotiable," Maine said, retrieving the weapon. "But it must be built on a foundation of trust and substantive cooperation. We need more than just a place to stay; we need resources for our research, including samples of minerals unique to this world."
The negotiation moved into the substantive phase of "give and take." The RDA remained deeply skeptical of the exploration team's origins, but the technical prowess they displayed was a tangible temptation—especially in the context of the increasingly difficult Na'vi problem and headquarters' constant pressure for higher yields.
After several hours of back-and-forth deliberation, a preliminary, limited cooperation framework was established, marked by mutual wariness. The RDA agreed to designate an area on the outskirts of Hell's Gate for the exploration team to establish a small outpost, providing basic energy and material hookups. In exchange, the exploration team would provide the RDA with several "non-core" weapon blueprints, including the plasma rifle, and assist the RDA in adapting them for production.
The preliminary agreement didn't involve deep-seated trust; it was more like a silent understanding of mutual necessity. The RDA gained weapon blueprints that could significantly bolster their security forces, albeit partially. The exploration team secured a legal foothold within the RDA's sphere of influence and a stable springboard to publicly acquire local resources.
Both sides were well aware that the other was holding back. This cooperation was built on a fragile, pragmatic exchange of interests; any shift in the wind could shatter this temporary balance.
On the way back to the Pathfinder, Maine reported the details and the final result of the encounter to Osiris via a highly encrypted short-range channel: "A preliminary agreement has been reached. They are extremely wary and questioned every detail, but their interest in the weapon technology is real. The cooperation framework matches our prior expectations."
Inside the mobile base's control center, Osiris (the second avatar) listened to Maine's report in silence, his face betraying no emotion. This result was entirely within his calculations—one might even say he had orchestrated it.
Human greed and the thirst for power were the easiest levers to identify and manipulate, regardless of the universe or the stage of civilization. The RDA's pursuit of greater force and Parker Selfridge's hunger for performance and new resources had become the fulcrums he used to tilt the situation.
By exploiting these, he had successfully embedded his forces into the existing power structure of Pandora, paving the way for the operations to follow.