On the perimeter of the Hell's Gate base, at the edge of the dense jungle.
An RDA "Samson" assault transport, responsible for patrolling the surrounding security zones, hovered at a low altitude. The downdraft from its rotors whipped the bioluminescent vegetation below into a frenzy.
Suddenly, the onboard sensors captured an unusual signal—an unidentified but stable energy source and a clear, repeating radio broadcast in standard Human Federation Language.
"Calling unknown human outpost. Repeat, calling unknown human outpost. This is the vanguard of the independent research vessel Seeker. We have observed your facility and request non-hostile contact. Repeat, requesting non-hostile contact."
The helicopter pilot immediately reported the situation to the base command center.
Soon, orders came back: Stay alert, approach the signal source, and verify the identity and intentions of the party, but avoid firing first.
The Samson followed the signal, cautiously flying over a forest clearing. There, they saw the source of the broadcast.
It was a large, rugged vehicle covered in heavy armor, its style starkly different from the RDA or any known human faction—the Pathfinder.
The vehicle was stationary, its sensor masts retracted. The drone, modified by the Adeptus Mechanicus, sat silently atop the roof, acting as the beacon for the signal.
Three people stood beside the vehicle.
Leading them was an exceptionally tall and burly man with obvious cybernetic augmentations (Maine). He carried no visible weapons, but his calm demeanor and the sheer presence of his modified body commanded an intense pressure.
Beside him stood a woman of similarly powerful build with sharp eyes (Dorio), and a man wearing goggles who was fiddling with a data slate—looking very much like a technician (Pilar).
The Samson hovered over the clearing, its door guns pointed directly at the three below.
A voice crackled through the external speakers: "This is an RDA patrol unit. State your identity and purpose. The Seeker does not belong to any known registered fleet."
Maine took a step forward and looked up at the helicopter. His voice, amplified by his internal cybernetics, rang out clearly over the roar of the rotors. "We are survivors of the Seeker. Our mother ship encountered an accident during deep-space navigation and was forced into a long-range jump, eventually crashing in an unknown region of this planet. It has taken us a long time to repair some of our equipment and detect your signal. We seek communication and potential—mutual aid."
He deliberately blurred the concept of "dimensional travel," opting for more understandable terms like "deep-space accident" and "jump." At the same time, he mentioned "mutual aid," an open-ended and intriguing phrase.
The RDA personnel on the helicopter were clearly skeptical. An unknown human faction? Survivors?
"Stay where you are. We are sending a ground team to meet you," the voice commanded.
A short while later, a team consisting of four RDA security soldiers and a middle-aged man in an administrative uniform arrived in an open-topped rover. The soldiers held assault rifles, warily eyeing Maine's group and the exotic Pathfinder behind them.
The administrator stepped forward, the name tag on his chest reading "Carter Bryce, External Affairs Coordinator." He looked Maine up and down, his gaze full of scrutiny. "I'm Bryce. You say you're survivors? What proof do you have? And what exactly do you mean by 'mutual aid'?"
Maine didn't answer the question of proof directly. Instead, he nodded to Pilar.
Pilar held up his data slate, displaying a processed, high-speed reel of drone footage—it was the high-definition reconnaissance of the RDA mining areas, refining plants, and certain base defenses they had gathered earlier, though they had carefully avoided the most sensitive core areas.
"This is some information gathered by our repaired scouting equipment," Maine said calmly. "We believe that our technology in certain fields might provide assistance for your—operations—here. For example, more efficient long-range reconnaissance, environmental monitoring, or—a deeper analysis of the indigenous biosphere and inhabitants."
He placed a slight emphasis on the words "indigenous inhabitants."
As Bryce looked at the staggeringly clear images on the data slate, specifically the details of several blind spots that even the base's internal surveillance struggled to cover, his expression shifted slightly.
The reconnaissance capability they were demonstrating far exceeded the RDA's current level. This was either extremely advanced technology or they had been lurking for a very long time.
"What do you want?" Bryce asked directly. Profit and exchange were the universal languages of the RDA.
"Information, resources, and a relatively safe environment for cooperation," Maine replied. "We need to understand this planet, we need to collect specific mineral samples for research, and we need a stable foothold to establish contact with our mother ship—if there are other survivors. In exchange, we can provide technical consultation and limited equipment support."
He didn't start by demanding Unobtanium or Amrita; instead, he used "mineral samples" and "technical support" as the entry point.
Bryce fell silent for a moment. These "survivors" were of unknown origin, but the technology they displayed was undeniably attractive. Especially their mention of the Na'vi—tensions between the base and the Omatikaya tribe had been escalating recently, and a blunt instrument like Colonel Miles Quaritch only knew how to use brute force. If there was a more "efficient" way to handle the indigenous problem, or at least gain earlier warnings of their attacks, it would undoubtedly reduce losses and costs.
"I need to report this to the Base Administrator, Mr. Parker Selfridge," Bryce finally said. "You may send one representative back to the base with us for further consultation. However, your vehicle and the rest of your personnel must remain here and accept our surveillance."
"Acceptable," Maine agreed.
He gestured to Dorio and Pilar before boarding the RDA rover alone.
Inside the Pathfinder, Osiris (the second avatar) observed the entire contact process through encrypted channels and hidden drone surveillance. Maine's performance was exactly as expected. The first step was complete; next came the actual game of interests.
He watched the rover drive away and looked toward the towering walls of Hell's Gate. The framework for cooperation with the RDA was being built, and the substantial acquisition of Pandora's resources was about to begin.