Avatar Tails!
The Sandbox => A Taste of Ukraine - and Pandora => Topic started by: Random the Navigator on June 21, 2022, 10:05:11 PM
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OOC: Welcome to our little revenge wish-fulfillment fantasy!
This started out as Kiye and I were thinking Bad Thoughts--some sad, some angry, some distressed--about the Russians' unprovoked invasion of Ukraine on 24 February 2022. Both of us are children of the Cold War, and I'm ex-military; I served precisely to keep exactly this kind of thing from happening, yet here we are and, forty years later, I'm too banged-up to do anything about it.
Except write. Writing can be very therapeutic; at the very least. it gives the Bad Thinking somewhere to go besides being locked up in our heads making us feel even more helpless. What comes out of a writing-therapy session is generally not suitable for publication; but the delicious thought of us or our proxies (our characters) kicking Putin's ass back to his mama's womb has been getting its exercise through private e-mails for the last month or so. Eventually I even came up with an idea for a subplot; at that point we decided that the thing has gotten too big for a non-threaded format, so I made a little spot for it and here we are. ;-)
Credit: Kiye started the story itself. Thank you, Kiye! \o/
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OOC: A little humor.
...Let the Games Begin!! |:-]
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So - here we go 8)
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Ni'ka eyed the pale, slightly pudgy human, dressed in something she recognized as what tawtute warriors wore - at least on his lower half. His upper half was bare and showed clearly that his days as a warrior were already long gone. She made a disgusted sound in the back of her throat - how someone so pitiful could cause so much destruction and pain!
All of a sudden she lunged forward to hiss in his face. "Skxawng!" Then she leaned back again and grinned, making sure to show as much fang as possible, enjoying the fear in his face as she somehow not only managed to change the colour of her eyes to the shining red of the Vrrtep-possesed while she slowly willed the thorn out of her fingertip, her blazing gaze never leaving the dictator's face.
Her other hand gestured towards the small group of family that had come along to give a Russian dictator and warmonger the medicine he deserved. "Your turn - for now."
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OOC: Introducing...Enyafam. ^_^
- Enya: DtP/Passages
- Brenda: DtP/Passages
- Tali: Passages, a few years older
- 'Iheyu: DtP
- Tangek: DtP
And you're kinda-sorta gonna see someone from Borderlands too. ;-)
Now: As you might have noticed, our tale opens with a colossal feat of in medias res - that's when the reader just sort of gets dropped right into the middle of everything with neither prelude nor exposition or even a flashback. Here we find our characters already in the Kremlin, in Putin's conference room no less, and indeed crowding around his end of that social-distancing table. How the--?? Well, there's a crane over there if you need to suspend some disbelief; I know we're asking a lot of you here. That should get you up the first ten storeys or so; if you're still incredulous after that, you're on your own. ;-)
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Brenda Mooradian emerged from shadows that were only a shade darker than her Changed hunting companion; she herself, an "integrated" Avatar, was only a shade lighter.
"Hey...remember me?" she sneered at the human. "'Cause I remember you..."
She eased her way down from the rafters slowly, slinky as a black panther and just as menacing. She prowled the length of the five-times-Covid-proof conference table, up and down once...twice, inwardly pleased at the way the man flinched the first time she drew close. She'd heard he was sick; she'd heard he was crazed; she didn't care. What mattered was that this man was trying to restore an empire that had long ago collapsed in on itself, its people unable to bear the weight and cost of its military aggression towards the nations it liked to "annex".
"Still going for the shirtless look, I see..." she drawled as she halted about halfway between Vladimir Putin and the end of the table. "Think that makes you a stud? All it does for me is tell me how far you've let yourself go." The look she gave the President of the Russian Federation was anything but friendly...or diplomatic. Diplomacy had never been her strong suit...
<tag!>
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"Yeah, if he wanted to look like a soldier - major fail. More like a boot camp dropout..." Rick, the third Changed one in the little group and the only one who had started out as a human, melted out of the shadows too now. If Brenda moved like a panther, his movements reminded more of the wolves that hunted in cold Siberian nights, as he marched straight up to the Russian president, towering over the man, eyes like steel.
"And they call me a traitor to the human race," he muttered. The expression that then appeared on his face was definitely wolfish too. "Wasn't that what you always feared? Some 'merican soldier here, right on your doorstep, in front of you? Well, we can make your nightmares come true now. And a few you didn't think of yet."
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OOC: Somebody has to play Putin... *sigh* ;-b
Through all of this, the Russian leader only sat there impassively, occasionally blinking. In that moment, he reminded Enya, the youngest member of the party, of Jabba the Hutt; only she and Tali, of all those born on Pandora, could have known anything about Star Wars.
She barely stifled a giggle. But she knew if she was heard before she was seen, the Na'vi woman behind her would probably be displeased; and if there was one thing Enya did not want, it was to be in "biiiiig trouble" with her adoptive mother. For now, she would let the grown-ups do the talking!
Brenda resumed her pacing. "Yeah, I remember you. You and the RDA have been giving me fits for years - the RDA mostly, but you first. I've already wrecked the RDA. Your turn."
Putin's brow creased. ~ *Wrecked* the RDA? ~ he thought. ~ When and how did anyone "wreck" the RDA? ~ Then he thought about some things...and other things...and why his pet billionaires had been making noises about someone else perhaps being better-suited to restore the Russian Empire than himself... "A noble idea," they'd said once, "but perhaps one for more vigorous spirits." None of those men had lived another week...so why did their words still trouble him?
Brenda cut back in. "Yeah, mister, you've got problems. Hell, I've got problems! Problems the size of swallowed nations. Remember Armenia? --Yeah, well, Armenia remembers YOU."
Then, faster than anyone could really process the movement, she whipped out the longest damned bow anyone on Earth had ever seen and nocked an arrow. "Naahh, you don't need to worry about me," she disclaimed. "This is a ranged weapon, totally unsuitable for a conference room, at least one smaller than a football field. I'm just cover. Your real troubles are about to begin."
There were some things about which no one could disguise their fear. Like most strongmen, Vladimir Putin was a coward at heart. Destroy half a continent though he might, he could not abide the idea of getting hurt himself. But one kind of hurt was crouched right in front of him, sharp and black; and one was moving about the room as if in search of the best line-of-sight for a bowshot, despite what she'd said about deploying her weapon here. And as for the American soldier...what the hell was he up to, anyway?
For the first time, Putin actually felt a little uneasy.
"Oh, by the way," said Brenda, "Ni'ka's claw has poison in it, and you probably won't enjoy the neurotoxins I'm packing either."
Putin had poisoned so many, or had them poisoned. Poison all around him now, and no one was here to keep him from meeting the same fate... Why was that? How had half an army of security people not already barged in here and thrown the barbarians out?? The flash of anger was more familiar; it made a good fallback option, vastly preferable to letting his inner terror become obvious.
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On Brenda's cue Ni'ka placed the thorn on her fingertip right so that Putin could see it, letting a bit of the venom drip out. "It Changes people," she explained. "If they're strong enough to survive the pain, of course. The others just feel the pain and then die." It was more than that, of course, but the little guy in front of her didn't need to know that. "Would you be strong enough?" Her tone clearly showed that she didn't think so.
If the Russian dictator had been angered by the failure of his security, having anyone doubt his strength angered him even more so. "You..." he started to protest and get up from his seat, but faltered again when Rick stepped up, drawing his knife. It was Na'vi-made, a common hunting dagger for the average Na'vi; in Rick's hands it looked like a rather wicked shortsword.
"You," he picked up Putin's words, "you have so much blood on your hands, so much suffering, that the RDA looks almost innocent in comparison, at least where Earth is concerned. This little toy here might not have venom or neurotoxin on its blade, but it can deal out pain and kill just the same, and I know how to use it. It's time to give back to you some of what you've handed out so freely to others."
Putin swallowed and sat back in his overstuffed chair. Slowly it began to dawn to him that these savages in front of him - he included the soldier too - wouldn't show any mercy and he was powerless in their hands. A feeling he had liked when his opponents and enemies felt it, not so much for himself. Actually he didn't like it at all. And with that feeling of helplessness came another one: fear!
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Brenda circled around behind Putin's chair, passing it and stationing herself in a corner before checking her line of sight again and nodding, satisfied. She'd spoken truth; her weapon was not directed at the man but at the entrance on the other side of the room. Where was his security, indeed? But she was pretty sure Tangek and the others had taken care of that. All the same, if anyone came in that way, they would likely find themselves skewered by a 12-foot arrow before they even got a chance to refill the dictator's tea.
She wasn't really expecting anyone, though. Just a precaution, in case a few FSB agents hadn't gotten Tali's memo yet.
Tali and Txa'ren had to be the two most unlikely people on Earth for the roles they'd taken. Tali, Enya's "big brother" though he was all of thirteen years old, was a scout. Since human tech had been brought to Pandora, being a scout had also meant becoming a computer hacker. Tali was the best "systems explorer" that distant moon had to offer, and he was enjoying butting keyboards against Earth-bound opponents like the amateurish Russian bot corps and the very capable FSB.
He'd never beat the Ukrainians, though. That country's "IT Army" had been fully mobilised for the conflict, and they were tying so many knots in Russia's tail that the spy agencies just couldn't keep up with them - not when they also had to provide reports and analysis on everything else that was wrong with Russia's world, which was, basically, everything.
As for Txa'ren, one of the Ikran Peoples' most nimble fliers back home, no one on either world would believe where he was now...
<ping!>
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... least of all Txa'ren himself. He *had* been fascinated by Rick's chopper, true, but that he and his trusted ikran Taw'itan now would play catch with the Russian airforce was something he would never have guessed back on that day. Well, at least that was what he had been doing in the past few weeks, together with a few Ukrainian pilots: making life for the Russians rather miserable. The charm of an ikran was that he didn't show up on Russian radar, making the pair the perfect bait - and of course there was always the element of confusion. Txa' couldn't remember how often he had heard the word "d...d...dragon!" lately, yelled with several shades of terror and fear. Txa' didn't mind putting fear in those hearts - in his eyes they weren't true warriors, attacking innocent people.
Currently the two were flying air defense over the Kremlin, dealing with whatever Moscow could still throw at them after Tali was done with their systems. He listened in to what was happening down there over their comms channel, grinning fiercely at everything his friends fired at the Russian dictator. "To Vrr'tep with that skxawng," he growled, for everybody to hear.
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Vladimir Putin was not the sort of man who did anything in a hurry. His patience had served him well in the KGB, the old Soviet Union's spy agency; and now, as then, he was not going to act in a situation until he was fairly certain what it was. But there weren't too many analogues on Earth for what confronted him now...
"I'm being invaded by aliens," he murmured in spite of himself.
"Funny you should mention invasions," said Brenda coolly over her shoulder.
Then Txa'ren's voice came crackling over Tali's comm headset, the one he'd been given long before his war, when humans and Na'vi had been on friendlier terms. "Txa'," he subvocalised, flexing the muscles in his larynx to produce words without voice, "you always *did* like to announce yourself... Good thing we're already here, meathead, or you'd've given us away!!"
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"Eh, as if I didn't hear that," Txa'ren commented back. "Besides, the guy's got Brenda, Ni'ka and Rick in his face; I don't thing he'll notice much else..."
"Yeah, talking about invasions!" Down on the ground the redhead moving out from the shadows now was comparatively short, which she would have been even in purely human company. She made up for it with the anger radiating from her whole petite person as she now shook her finger in Putin's direction. "You're an expert on that, ain't you?" she shouted. "Only that you don't have the balls to call it what it is. 'Special military operation', my ass!" Anna jumped on the long table, careful to not block Brenda's line of sight. "I hope when you're in hell where you belong you'll feel the pain of every mother and father losing their children, of every kid losing their parents, of everyone losing a loved one. Every. Single. Moment. Of. Eternity."
Putin tried to collect that icy calm he was known for. "Hell?" he asked. "What a stupid concept. That's all you got to offer?" Growing up in the Soviet Union had put a damper on the deep religiosity the Russian people was known for, but still there was a tiny bit of his soul not as sure as he claimed to be, so there was some whistling in the dark wrapped up in his statement.
Anna's face got just as hard and fierce. "Well, we can start with that right here and now," she said.
Up in the air Txa'ren winced. "Add my mate to that," he muttered so low that he wasn't sure even Tali could hear it.
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By now Putin had regained his composure, at least outwardly. If these strange beings (he counted the humans) had been going to variously knife, poison, or puncture him, they'd have surely done it by now instead of bloviating in superhero soliloquies. If the situation were reversed, he'd have done the killing first and saved the speech for when he actually had something to brag about. So far it looked like he had nothing worse to fear than a lot of yelling and threats.
He regarded Ni'ka and her thorn first. "Say, aren't you a little uncomfortable in that position by now?" he smirked.
To Rick and the newly-arrived Anna, one with a sense of honor and the other with religion, he only said "How quaint."
Wisely, he did not try to tweak Brenda. He sensed indignation from the others, but the archer carried an aura of real, if reined-in, menace.
Enya, still hiding, wondered what she was supposed to do. It wasn't in her to make threats or to harm anyone, the occasional crack-upside-the-head with her quarterstaff notwithstanding, but the warriors at the head of the conference table had the "weapons" part covered. But what was supposed to happen here besides the part with the weapons? And why had her mother brought her to see this? She was the sort who would happily filch eggs from a bird's nest, but she couldn't have shot a Yerik and still been herself, no matter how much she enjoyed eating them.
She gave her Na'vi adoptive mother a questioning look. "Sa'nok...why I here?"
'Iheyu answered with a soft smile. "You're here to make a gentle thing happen," she explained. "Gentleness follows you everywhere, and it might not have been able to get in here otherwise. I hope Brenda's not too twitchy today, or she might skewer it before it's all the way through the door..."
OOC: Next - the OTHER Enya! You know, the scruffy one.
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Rick raised a brow at the dictator. "Quaint, huh?" he asked; and the next thing in Putin's face wasn't an empty threat but a well-placed left hook. Just enough to rattle his brain and teeth solidly and kicking his chair over, making the man slide backwards. "It's just that simply killing you would be too easy - too fast", the former soldier added.
Ni'ka stepped forward, picking Putin up by the scrunch of his neck, using her nails just enough to leave a mark in the man's pale skin. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" she asked. "It being over like that?"
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Ni'ka hoisting the Russian leader up by the scruff of the neck put him at just the right height for what happened next: Tali, wearing an impossibly touristy shirt and swim trunks, swung down from the rafters, yelled "COWABUNGA!!!!" as he let go of the comm wiring he rode in on, and slid down the length of the table, which was way too long for anything else but just right for "surfing". He stuck one leg out and let his momentum do the rest of the work...and Vladimir Putin found himself on the receiving end of one helluva kick in the 'nads.
During his training with the KGB, Putin had learned how to deal with torture and pain, it had been one of the basics every agent had to deal with. But none of that training had him prepared for the pain inflicted by the fist of a Changed human, a Changed Na'vi's claws - and most of all not of being kicked in the family jewels by someone who - if he only knew - was considered a pre-teen on a faraway moon, but by all rights had the size and strength of a grown man. And a horrible fashion sense!
"..." The Russian leader opened his mouth, but nothing came out but a wheezing sound while his face turned into a sickly shade of green. "..."
"You wanted to say...?" Anna asked, her voice sweet as a sugar overdose.
OOC: I've incorporated your Putin-and-Anna post into this one of mine, thus saving us an exchange or two when we're only here twice a week. If I shouldn't have done that, please rap my knuckles with Enya's staff and I'll fix it.
BIC: The Russian leader was still swaying in Ni'ka's grip like a hard-hit punching bag when there came a soft knock on the door the "aliens" had come in through. Brenda tensed, raising the bow. But 'Iheyu, still hidden, shook her head. Of all the Na'vi in the Tompa'tanhi Clan, very few could See as deeply even with the Bond as she could without it. The healer wasn't psychic, nor could she see through walls. But what she sensed outside felt a little like Enya; and her glance now said clearly: Let this one pass.
In walked a girl dressed in, if not exactly pinpoint Ukrainian, at least recogniseably Eastern European attire. There was the embroidered tunic, its hem reaching to mid-thigh; a little vest over it; a sash at the waist, peasant trousers, and soft shoes that had nonetheless survived a lot of use. All of it, and the girl herself, looked rather rumpled; there were even twigs sticking out of her hair and from under her blue-and-yellow chaplet, as if they'd tried to catch her and been caught instead. Yet she didn't seem to be in any particular distress; she entered the room serenely, at almost a queenly pace, and her feet hardly made a sound as they brushed the marble floor.
At length she found a spot to her liking and perched herself on the conference table, looking up at Mr. Putin almost sweetly. "Hi," she said, her voice childlike but strong. "'Scuse my mess; was pretty when did set out... Ahh, and also 'scuse that my Russian not so good, 'cause we got stuff to talk about... Vladimir, yes? --I Mariupol."
Vladimir Putin's face went from greenish to very, very pale. Apparently some part of him did believe in ghosts and spirits...
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OOC: I'm fine with incorporating my posts there - it just keeps the flow :)
BIC:
If the two humans present - besides Putin - hadn't believed in ghosts and spirits one time in their lives, their time on Pandora had changed their approach on that completely. There was more to the universe than met the eye. Without even having to think about it Rick stepped back and Anna made room for the spirit of Mariupol on the table, sliding down and stepping back as well.
As a Na'vi Ni'ka knew very well about spirits of places. This girl didn't quite have the same presence as the Great Mother had, but it was clear as the sky above Moscow that day that this wasn't any ordinary girl from the moment she walked in. And the name confirmed it. Mariupol - everyone in their little group knew the name of that place, the horrible things that had happened there were part of why they were here after all.
She put her free hand on her heart, slightly bowing her head in respect. "This is your fight more than ours," she said to the girl, "So now it's your turn to do and say what you came for." She sent a questioning look at the sitting girl. "Should I keep holding him up or do you want him on his rear?"
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"Right here is good," said Mariupol, patting a spot on the table right next to hers. "But maybe you want to help him sit up? Be bad if he pass out and fall off before..." Then she reconsidered. "Na, maybe put him back in his favorite chair; plenty support there - maybe little too much." She wrinkled her nose impishly.
Her assailant having been put (back) in his place, she regarded him with a sad, gentle smile that could almost have been disappointed mother-love. "You been bad," she began, firming up that impression. "Been very mean to me and my People. You know what you did, not gotta talk about it all day. Only this: You see me all messed up. Is how you left me. But you also see me young. I reborn; I live; I always live as long as I stay in the hearts of my People. They come back, they gonna make me all pretty again."
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Anna felt a lump growing right in her throat. She had already admired the spirit of the Ukrainian people, their strength, their will to come out of it all stronger, not willing to give up on anything. Seeing it personified here was something special. And still she couldn't help the sudden urge to pick that girl up, straighten her messy clothes, pick the straw out of her hair...
"They'll also have help from all over the world," Rick added to Anna's unspoken words. "They - and you - are not alone in this."
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"Never alone," the girl agreed. "Is one street right now, houses messy too, but enough scrap left to make a shed so neighbors can get out of the rain. Sign on shed say 'Don't Be Jealous!' with a smilie, 'cause still be something standing on that street, when Russian soldiers who pass by it have nothing at all to rest in."
She turned to Putin now. "Is silly, no? But sad; very sad. I still here, always will be, and we not gonna live in ugly Soviet buildings next time. But you...? All those cute Russian boys dead for nothin', and all the world against you. My People suffer for something; many die, but nobody die far from homeland and forgotten by family. Why your People suffer? What they hanging onto in their hearts when bombs fall, or shells hit, or we start shooting back? Do think is their forgiveness you gonna need, not mine."
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Putin scoffed. "Our soldiers are dying happily for the fame and glory of Russia," he stated. "To get back what's rightfully ours and has and always will be Russia." The truth was that Putin didn't care much about the average soldier being sent out to Ukraine. They all were just pawns in his game for domination. His pawns, true, but replacable.
The falling of the Soviet Union hadn't sat well with him, as had losing territory to states calling themselves independent. He was in it for the power and the more territory and people he controlled, the more power he had. What were the lives of a few more soldiers compared to that?
Rick's face showed his disgust. "Says the guy hiding in his palace," he growled. "Ever heard Sting's 'Russians'? He hopes Russians love their children like everyone else and I can tell you: they do." He pointed up to the sky. "Met a few of 'em up there on Pandora and a lot of 'em just had signed up for the money - for giving their kiddos the chance for a better future. None of them wished for them to get killed in some stupid fight with their neighbours."
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Brenda eyeballed the autocrat with a withering stare that, on another world, had been known to send viperwolves scampering for their dens. "Ya hear that??" she barked. "The 'enemy' cares more about his troops than he does!! Ohh, that makes me sooo want to join the Russian army... Let's just say I wouldn't want to be sitting in your chair the day all those Russian mamas figure out what happened to their boys."
Now she advanced on Putin, baring a little fang. "So what's your next reclamation project? Oregon? Alaska?? Good luck with that! I know some people who might have a problem with that idea, and they're not gonna 'say it with flowers'."
Mariupol regarded Brenda with something approaching hero-worship. "You sure you not Ukrainian?" she teased.
"Naww, just Armenian," Brenda drawled in her best "Aww, shucks" manner.
"Then that will have to do," said Mariupol with a wink.
But when she turned back to Putin, all hints of levity were gone. "'Happily,' you say. Happily die for idea of Russia. You ever think maybe their idea of Russia be different now, knowing that you not care a dead rat's behind about them? You say; they see. They see same things I do. And how they feel about it, I not would call that 'happy'. Your People be as miserable right now as my own. Only relief be to make Ukrainians even more miserable, then at least someone be worse off than them. Such bad, bad things they do to my People to make us even a little unhappier than them. Is same-same for you? Be you so unhappy that you gotta step on other countries to feel maybe-little-better 'bout yourself? How 'bout maybe you spend that energy making Russia actually nice again?? Too hard? Nobody believe in it? Nobody want to do the work?" She put her head up haughtily and crossed her arms over her chest, now every inch the old and proud city she was: "We not got that problem in Ukraine."
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Vladimir Putin had always tried to come across as a tough guy. And, apart from his exaggerated posing, he was to a certain degree. And there wasn't much in the world that could shock or frighten him. He had lost his conscience decades ago, being driven by power, seeing other people merely as pawns for his power games. He also sneered at the more superstitious part of his people; the only higher thing he believed in being the size and might of Russia itself, and even that was an abstract concept. Spirits of places? Bullshit!
But for some reason the little girl's words cracked something in the hardened shell of the autocrat. It weren't the words themselves, he had heard similar ones a dime a dozen, from allover the world, sentimental crap he sure didn't care about. It was how they were spoken and by whom. There was something otherworldly in the girl's eyes and the sound of her voice. Still reluctant to give even the fracture of an inch of ground to this strange group of invaders in his sanctum he cleared his throat.
"Russia doesn't need advice from someone like.... you!" He glared first at Mariupol, then at the rest of the group, giving them his best icy impression. It were just tiny signs that something had gotten to him - a slight twitch around the eyes, almost too short to spot if not for someone who'd be watching intently. "This country stands great agains the decadence of what you call the West, so shut up." He scowled. "You all are a strange bunch of weird creatures, you have no idea of the power you're messing with!"
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That was when Mariupol did the absolute worst thing anyone could do to Vladimir Putin at that moment: She put a hand to her mouth and giggled.
Putin was instantly on his feet, groin agony be damned. "How--DARE--you!!!" he roared. "Why aren't you *dead*?? I fucking flattened you!!! Your precious People are boiling corpse-water for coffee and dying of dysentery! They're still digging bodies out of the rubble! You're a smoking ruin, a crater, a parking lot!! There's nobody left to love you!!!"
If Mariupol were actually a child, she would have been devastated by such a remark. But she wasn't a child, and under the circumstances it would have been impossible to traumatise her any further.
"Don't be silly," said the numen of the city, voice dripping with similar contempt. "Everyone who got out; everyone who stay behind to join the fight; everyone who ambush your men from the basement... And, most especially, soldiers who stayed with me for three extra months of hell. You have them now. You not have harmed them, for which I thank you. And Every. Single. One of my People who still lives still loves me, and those soldiers love me most of all. I want them back. Now. And if they so much as have hiccups, is gonna be BIG trouble between you and me; and you and Kharkiv; and you and Sister Cities, Lysychansk and Severodonetsk; and you and Kyiv and Zaporizhzhia and, oh yeah, between you and West. You gonna find out what power is. You get power from love, the love of your People. You not got that, you got no influence on anybody. Your only power be in this one room at this end of this one table, and you not can do much more here besides yell and kick your chair over backwards, 'cept if Ni'ka hold you up, and then you not even gonna be able to do that," she spat.
[OOC:] Funny how Putin is talking to her like she's "real"...as in, exactly who she said she is... *snickers*
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Ni'ka was only too happy to oblige - she again picked Putin up, letting him dangle helplessly in the air.
"She's more than right." Rick had picked up the fallen chair and placed it to the side of the table, sitting down now, feet on the table, playing idly with his dagger, looking relaxed on the outside, but his whole being focused on what was happening - and ready to spring into action if necessary. "It was love that saved me from dying when I Changed into who I am now. It was love saving our world. And in the end love will be what brings you down - because it brings people to stand together, to help, to sacrifice."
He put the dagger down, tilting his head slightly. "But that's a concept you don't get, do you? Real, unconditional love for something or someone?"
Putin shivered - if of rage or some other emotion wasn't clear to see. "You're all pathetic!", he spat back, but he was already starting to fight a rearguard action here. "Put me down. Now!" He glared at Rick. "And you, abomination, get out of my cha..."
Ni'ka shook him slightly, cutting off his words.
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Brenda had somehow quietly stashed her bow, unnoticed. Arrows were for hunting, really; for combat and less pleasant activities, she had her Bowie knife. It wasn't time to unsheath it...yet; but if that time came, she could do so just as quickly as she'd armed herself with the bow.
"Funny you should mention abominations," she said casually. "I dunno, but somehow I think bombing schools and theatres and train stations and anywhere else people gather in numbers, shooting at civilians' cars as they try to escape, kneecapping people before executing them, and turning the grounds of a cathedral into a mass grave qualify as pretty abominable in themselves. One of your guys shot a man off his damn bicycle, fer crust's sake. How petty is that?? Was that man such a threat to the mighty Russian Army that you couldn't abide him living one more moment? 'Oh, but he saw us and might have informed on us.' Great, so now you've got the International Criminal Court up your ass instead. Nice going, Sherlock. That's about as smart as attacking Ukraine in the first place. You're going down in history as the best friend NATO and Democracy ever had. They're united against you. You couldn't have shot yourself in the mouth any worse if you'd done it on purpose... What a joke. I can't believe we were ever afraid of you; safe to say we've gotten over it."
Mariupol had said her piece, so she arose and drifted out of the room just as silently as she'd drifted in.
Tali, long since sidelined, had returned to his family where they hid in the wings. Now he gave his not-so-little sister Enya a wondering look. "She...she's kinda like a Hometree, isn't she? Sustaining her people and being sustained by them... I didn't know cities were like that. I thought they were just scars on the landscape; I didn't think they could have a soul..."
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Ni'ka nodded, full of wonder herself. "She is. I didn't know that this world would have places with Spirits too."
"Some of them do", Anna said. "This is just the first time I actually saw one of them in person and heard her talk." She frowned, eyeing Putin with disapproval. "Funny enough there's always been this talk of the Russian Soul over the centuries. I wonder what she'd think of him. Cause she's said to be someone with a big heart, full of laughter and melancholy, song and, yeah love. I don't think she's very happy right now either."
Putin swallowed, but picked himself up again. "Fairytale talk", he spat.
"You saw that 'fairytalel' right here in front of you", Anna replied cooly, then all of a sudden went up in flames. "What the heck is wrong with you???", she yelled at the Russian.
"Wrong?" Putin even managed a laugh. "With me? You are the delusional ones, thinking you can come in here to... what? Change my mind? Make me mushy like you? Stupid little bitch!"
In the meantime Txa'ren had decided there wouldn't be any arial attacks coming in and made his way down to Kremlin, slipping into the huge room too. He had stayed in the back so far, big speeches weren't his thing and he was pretty sure his friends had it covered. But now his eyes flashed and he stepped forwards, putting a hand on Anna's shoulder. "You will not speak to my mate's sky person like that!" he declared firmly. "Or you'll have even more problems than you already do."
The Na'vi warrior's words or voice weren't any more threatening than everything else that had been said so far, but it was like the straw on the camel's back, starting to break something in the Russian's mind. "I...", he started, closed his mouth again, then shook his head. "For f...'s sake", he muttered.
-
"Delusional, huh?" Brenda sneered. "Because we thought we could barge in here? But we did. Change your mind? An off-chance; we weren't really counting on it. Actually, I personally was hoping you wouldn't; if you did, if you all of a sudden decided to straighten up and fly right, it'd kinda spoil our fun. We came here to have a bit of fun with you. Just a bit; you've been quite obliging... Stupid? That's your middle name nowadays. Bitch? That's mine."
~ And now, ~ she thought, ~ it's time to get the innocents out of the room. ~
"Enya-babe?" she called, eyes still on the dictator so as not to give away Enya's hiding-place. "Any idea how Mariupol got to look so much like you? Like, if you were a Sky Person? She even had a red tunic and tan trousers..."
Tali answered for both of them. "We were just wondering about that," he said, smiling winsomely.
Brenda flicked her tail towards the entrance. "Hey, if you hustle you might be able to catch up with her and ask her about it, hmm?"
This time Enya did speak up: "Yah! Gotta ask... But what if she vanish?"
"I'm not real worried about that," said Tali, knowing what Brenda was trying to do. "Looked to me like she walked here... C'mon!" And he grabbed his adopted sister's arm and they scampered out, their mother 'Iheyu behind them.
-
Rick watched the small group leave, nodding towards Brenda in acknowledgement of her tactic. As much as he admired Tali's skills - and though the boy was more or less his own size - he still was that: a boy, and with all his "street wise" attitude deep down as innocent as Enya. So the former soldier was glad to see that the two kids had left the room as well. And 'Iheyu - the woman had been through enough suffering and loss in her life to not be called innocent anymore, but she still was the kind of person Rick wouldn't have liked to see what would be coming now.
He cracked his knuckles. "And now, Mr Putin, to the second part of this little get together." He eyed the autocrat coldly. "Time you feel some of the pain you inflicted on so many others."
-
"You keep saying that," said the Russian leader a little crossly. "So far you haven't hurt anything but my eyes from the weirdness of you, and a wonderful migraine that I'm sure will get worse once this black, two-legged giraffe-woman puts me down again."
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Brenda snorted. "Get your feet under you so you could make a break for it if we get to be a little too much for your delicate tastes? --Hate to say it, but I agree with you. This will be a lot more fun if we at least pretend to give you a sporting chance. Make no mistake, though, Mr Putin: You are not leaving this room. So I hope you've been to the bathroom, 'cause otherwise we'll have to beat the shit out of you... Ni'ka, sweetie? Could you let go of Fearless Leader's neck? I'm sure now he's wishing he'd worn a shirt..."
-
"Of course!" Ni'ka smiled at Brenda, then turned back to Putin dangling in her grip, narrowing her eyes, pressing her clawlike nails into his neck one more time for good measure, swung him back and forth a few times to make things more interesting and then opened her grip. Being the size she was the autocrat fell down from almost six feet, landing right - and probably rather painfully - on his rear.
"Oops".
The air left Putin rather quickly and from the look on his face he had hurt his tailbone, but he did try to get back up on his feet as fast as possible.
"Not so fast", Rick chimed in, his boot landing in right the spot Putin had hurt already with his not very graceful landing, putting the man flat on his face now. "Bren said you need to get down and that's where you'll stay for now."
-
Now Brenda crouched down to be as close to eye-to-eye with the dictator as she could under the circumstances. The circumstances were these: She was easily twice his height, which meant that she was as tall sitting down as he would have been standing up. So her attempt to get in his actual face fell a little...short. No matter; she had Ni'ka sit on Putin and beckoned Rick to join her in sitting cross-legged in front of him.
"First of all," she began chattily, "you need to realise exactly how screwed you are. See, we're from a long way from here. About five-point-something light-years, actually. Some of us were born on Earth, true; others have never lived anywhere except Pandora. And even from a moon of a planet another star-system away, we were aware of your bullshit and we didn't like it. I already told you we wrecked the RDA for what they did to Armenia, and for what they tried to do to Pandora. I think that one actually got in the news--even here, unless your minions censored it for you. Everywhere else we were the wrong kind of famous." She grinned, meaning her fangs were showing, then went on.
"So here we are: Rick, an American soldier who, shall we say, adapted; Anna, who got in your face about fairy-tales, used to run with the wolves in Siberia, and drives an Avatar; and Txa'ren - he's the late arrival who stuck up for Anna; before we came to Moscow he was taking his turn at being that legendary fighter pilot, the Ghost of Kyiv. You've met Tali, the Na'vi youth who (a) took over your comm network, (b) cancelled your Internet service, and (c) just rendered you incapable of breeding; the two ladies who just left with him are his mom and his sister. Still waiting for his daddy to show up. Tangek's one hell of a healer, but he also knows how to break people like your palace guards and anybody else who tries to stop him. He doesn't have a problem in the world with the idea of patching you up just so's we can torture you some more. Yeah, yeah, not what you'd expect from a Na'vi, right? 'Cause they're all just a bunch of Goddess-worshippin', skinny-dippin', tree-huggin' hippies, right? ...Oh, Vladimir, Pandora's just full of surprises. Like me. I used to drive an Avatar too, didja know that? Yeah, well, eventually we merged, which happens after a while, so here I am. All of us can breathe things that would kill you. Which we might end up having to do--'breathe things', that is; 'kill you' should go without saying.
"And why are all us aliens picking on you? ...Because, for me, what you're doing now in Ukraine smells way too much like what you did in Armenia back then. For my Na'vi companions, it smells too much like what you did--Yes, you!--in Pandora. We made the RDA pay for that. All of that. But I've been saving you for dessert. So it's your turn...and you can't escape on a starship at just below the speed of light. Sound screwed enough for you?"
She smirked, then turned to Rick and asked "Did you bring the kava powder? Coffee pot's right over there if you need some hot water to mix it in... I'm providing the killer bee."
Vladimir Putin's eyes got very, very wide.
-
"Oh, not so confident anymore?" Despite his growth spurt a while ago Rick still was far from Na'vi sized, meaning he was a lot closer to Putin's face, noticing his reaction. The Changed soldier grinned ferally. "Seems there's some situational awareness left in you." He turned to Brenda and patted a small pouch on his belt. "Yepp, all ready to go for our friend here. I'm sure he'll love our special mix." He looked back at Putin. "I think I might call it 'Pandoran Nightmare'."
Anna suppressed a chuckle. She had deeply enjoyed Brenda's speech, the part about herself running with wolves in Siberia reminding her of how beautiful and pure Russia actually could be and how perverted Putin's actions were. "You might be used to bad vodka", she said, remembering some of the stuff they served in the more remote parts of the huge country with a slight shudder, "but this will gonna be a completely new experience." Now her smile might as well belong to one of the wolves she had studied all those years ago. "It's taking a number on a grown, healthy Na'vi, so it's gonna be interesting - strictly scientifically - to see what it will do to a has-been autocrat like you."
Putin, feeling that shit was about to hit the fan for real, tried to wiggle out of his position, but Ni'ka just readjusted her weight to make any try for escape impossible. "You should feel honoured", she said sternly. "It's a sacred ceremony with my people."
-
"Well, there you have it," Brenda told Putin with evident satisfaction. "You get to literally choose your poison. Ni'ka's already told you what'll happen if she pricks you. Or you can let yourself be stung by a killer bee, then drink the concoction Rick's gonna brew here shortly."
"What does that do," asked Putin nervously.
Brenda curled her tail around herself, picked the end up and began gesturing with the tuft as she explained. "If this works like on Pandora, the kava will interact with the bee-sting and put you in a fever-dream, during which you will have strong hallucinations. One of those hallucinations will be of some kind of animal - something of deep spiritual significance to you. You've heard of a Native American Visionquest? --This is a Na'vi version called the Dreamhunt. You have to wait for your beast to appear; after that, if it doesn't come right to you, you might have to battle and subdue it to form a bond with it. It will then become your Spirit-animal, your totem, and guide you throughout life, assuming you survive the experience; some Na'vi don't. Also assuming you still have a soul that a totem can access... This is gonna be in-teresting." She smirked.
-
"Mine, for example, is a Palulukan", Ni'ka explained. Usually she didn't tell everyone and their little sister about her spirit animal, but she knew that this information-leak would be short-lived. As short-lived as the slowly panicking dictator.
"Think black panther on steroids", Rick added helpfully. "Six legs, tall enough that a Na'vi could ride it, fangs the size of a table leg. Beautiful creatures."
"For you, I think", Anna mused, "I expect something like a cockroach. Or maybe some kind of worm."
"I'm not sure even a worm would connect with him", Txa'ren offered. "Worms are important and useful in the circle of life, giving back our body to the Great Mother. I don't think this skxawng has ever done something useful in his life."
Putin - despite feeling cold fear creep up his spine - sputtered indignantly while his brain raced. So what were his options? Get stung by something that would change him on a genetic level or get stung by something else that might drive him into visions and insanity (he didn't believe much in spiritual stuff, after all). At least the second option sounded as if there'd be booze, still the whole thing sounded like the choice between the rock and the hard place.
So far his conscious brain refused to make any decisions while his reptile brain sent 'fight or flight'-orders he couldn't follow.
-
Not helping a bit was the arrival of Tangek, who combined a Na'vi's height with a wrestler's bulk. "Everyone all right in here?" he asked with a faint smile, not missing Putin as his eyes scanned everyone's faces, but noticing the absence of his wife and children.
Then he pointed out something about the Dreamhunt ritual that his extended family and friends seemed to have forgotten: "Now, now, we don't go talking about anyone's tirea'ioang before they've got one; we don't want to affect the outcome by speculating or by stating a preference. Although you could explain to me why this fellow's getting a Dreamhunt in the first place; Rick's accident aside, we really don't do those for tawtute who haven't learned our ways yet..."
-
"Tangek." Ni'ka bowed her head in greeting. "Yes, thank you, we are alright so far - can't say the same about him." She pointed at the deflated autocrat she was sitting on.
Txa'ren, also greeting 'Iheyu's mate, shrugged. "It's not as if we actually have taken him through a Dreamhunt yet", he explained. "We're just telling him his options. He can always choose to be pricked by Ni'ka."
"And we want to make sure he has all the information we declare necessary for an educated choice", Rick added with a feral grin. He had gotten up right now and started to work with the coffee-pot Brenda had pointed out before.
-
"Informed consent." The Na'vi healer nodded. "I like it. And you're probably counting on whichever he chooses to be fatal. But have you thought about what will happen if this man survives either experience? What will you do then? A Dreamhunt is as much a prophecy as a revelation of what's already in you; it speaks to your nature, but also points to your future. As for the Change, it takes days for a Sky Person if Rick's any clue. Will you be here for the whole thing? Shall I make ready to nurse him through it? And if I do so...well, that's going to make him my patient, isn't it? Which means, odious as he is, I will have to defend him against you." He leaned backwards against a pillar, kicked up one leg behind him and crossed his arms over his chest, looking somewhat amused at the predicament the others had gotten themselves into.
-
This option actually shut the little group up for a moment, Anna even paling under her freckles a little bit. Nobody in their right mind would want to put up a fight with Tangek when he defended a patient. To be honest, the thought of Putin surviving the next few hours had never crossed their minds so far.
Putin, on the other hand, noticed a tiny straw in the middle of the stormy sea he found himself drowning in. That bulky, scary looking alien newcomer had mentioned the word "survive". Was there actually a chance he could survive the whole ordeal? On the other hand, maybe this also could be a ruse, meant to give him hope for a short moment to just crush it shortly after. Having gotten his training in the KGB he knew a few things about psychological warfare and torture and this was a tactic he had used himself a few times already. Why should he have reason to trust a stranger all of a sudden? Heck, he even didn't trust his own people. Power wasn't grabbed by trusting people.
But this was not about power, this was about survival and the last minutes had shown the dictator that his uninvited guests actually did mean business. So he reached for the straw, weak as it might seem.
"Survive?", he asked, voice croaking. "Nurse?"
-
Brenda shifted a little uneasily. It was her idea to radically alter the Russian leader's biochemistry by one method or the other, and now she had to think through the consequences of a worst-case scenario. Normally she was on top of that sort of thing. But when it came to trust and self-sufficiency, and even ruthless savagery sometimes, she was more like Putin than she'd care to admit. There was the side of her she'd been so careful not to show to Enya and family, the side that had the US immigration services unsure of whether to classify her as a refugee or a terrorist. Her time on Pandora, having Enya in her life and uniting with her Avatar self had gone a long way towards subduing those impulses. But they were still there, available at need, and she wouldn't hesitate to feed an enemy to the blast-furnace of her focused, disciplined wrath, white-hot as a neutron star.
She felt a little awkward now that her idea of a worst-case scenario was one in which nobody died: ~ What the hell have I become? ~
But Armenia. And Ukraine. This rabid dog had to be put down.
She switched to Na'vi. "Tangek...is there a way we can rid the Earth of this bastard without invoking your protective instincts?"
"Sure," replied the healer, his voice intense. "Do it in a way that doesn't make him my patient. I don't think you can count on the Change or the Dreamhunt to end him."
"Great," Brenda sighed. "Back to the drawing-board..."
-
Rick looked up from where he was waiting for the water to cook. "We can finish him off", he suggested, his finger crossing his throat. "It's quick, and dead people don't make good patients to care for."
"Maybe." Ni'ka hesitated. "But didn't we want him to see the errors of his ways before he dies? He's scared now, but I don't think he understands."
"Will he ever?", Anna asked. "Not even Mariupol herself got through to him, or reminding him that his own people are dying; and if those things can't make him think, would pain really make a difference?" She looked at Tangek who hadn't been there when the girl came in. "The Spirit of Mariupol was here", she explained to the healer. "Looking like a little girl, someway surprisingly similar to Enya - if she was human." She turned around towards the door. "That's where 'Iheyu, Enya and Tali are now, trying to catch up with her."
"I wonder if we should look for them", Txa'ren added. "This place is still hostile territory and none of them is a warrior."
-
"Mariupol," Tangek echoed, savoring the feel of the name in his mouth. "So they're on speaking terms? Well, that's something, at least...
"But I'll have to differ with you on the warrior count. Tali isn't ten years old anymore, he's thirteen. He's nearly Rick's height, and Rick is a sized-up Tawtute; both of them come up to about here on me." He held a hand about seven feet off the ground. "In another year he'll be almost fully-grown; in two he'll be making his own Iknimaya and having his own Dreamhunt. The boy's very nearly a young man, is what I'm saying; and not only is he our little Clan's finest scout, but he's no slouch with a knife or an arrow either. Thanks to Enya, he's even gotten skilled with a quarterstaff; only appropriate since she carries the one he made for her way back when. On Eywa'eveng I would trust him completely with the family's safety."
He paused to consider, then addressed Txa'ren and Anna. "However, this is enemy territory, and I doubt my son knows his way around Moscow. Anna, didn't you study in this country? Surely you've visited this settlement often enough; you even showed us a pretty good coffee-shop on our way in. Perhaps our family does need a tour guide... But Txa'ren, your skills are more needed here than anywhere else."
Putin could only guess what any of their talk was about; how could he know it was something as innocuous as a boy's coming-of-age? But between Rick's unmistakeable throat-cutting gesture and the mention of Mariupol, he was sure the door had just slammed shut on his chances. His instincts were right, he thought bitterly; he was being played; "good cop/bad cop" was a game as old as interrogation itself. Plainly they meant to be rid of him no matter what, and now he cursed himself for having ever thought otherwise, even for a moment.
-
"I never doubted Tali's skills", Txa'ren replied with a smile. "And I know 'Iheyu can be as fierce as anyone else here and also wouldn't get on Enya's wrong side - she's been getting very good with her staff lately." His chin pointed towards Putin. "I just don't think this worm here doesn't have much fight left in him."
"But you're right", Anna chimed in. "Moscow's an old city and has been through a lot during its history. Roads aren't always straight there and there can be surprises at every corner." She lost herself in memories for a moment. "We only spent a few weeks here, mostly for preparing our expedition and afterwards going through the results, but I did get a few ideas about how this place works, what corners to avoid, and so on. Plus, I speak enough of the language to get along." Her eyes seemed to look through the walls of Kremlin. "I'm sure Mariupol knows where she's going though and I even have a few places in mind where she could be."
"And Tali might even have left a few markers behind", Rick added. "He did so when he taught me about scouting and moving in the woods."
-
Brenda considered. "Or maybe she doesn't know her way around," she said. "I mean, it's not like cities go visiting each other very often...and I'm not sure how Moscow would 'feel' about her, either. Kinda worried for that kid, actually..."
Meanwhile, Tangek's eyes were back on the dictator. "Ni'ka dear, would you mind sitting elsewhere? Mr Putin and I need to have a talk, and I think he'll give me better answers if he can breathe." He cracked a half-smile, an uncharacteristic hint of mischief in his eyes. "What I'd do to know what he and Mariupol said to each other..."
-
"Moscow and Mariupol might have more in common than you think", Anna replied. "This place here might not have bombs and rockets raining destruction, but the people are quite as suprressed. They had just gotten used to have the chance to speak their minds a while ago and now they're silenced in fear again. Remember, there were anti-war demonstrations when this all started."
"Then let's go and find her", Txa'ren decided. "This city and her spirit have been through enough already." One of his browstripes went up, watching Ni'ka getting up and the battered human on the ground. "I don't think one warrior less or more will make a difference in here - whatever you'll do with him in the end, I think we broke him already." There wasn't any regret or sympathy in his voice, just a stating of facts.
And indeed there wasn't much fight in Putin at the moment. Realizing he wouldn't get out of this with his skin intact had definitely erased a lot of his arrogance. Ni'ka picked him up at his neck again and put him on one of the chairs in the way too big room. "He's all yours", she told Tangek.
-
As Anna's group made ready to leave, Tangek turned to the Russian leader. "All right, you know how this goes," he said. "As a fellowship, my companions and I all have a strong sense of and attachment to the places that are important to us. That being the case, we're all a little upset that you've been bombing cities like Mariupol into rubble and enslaving their people, and frankly I'm suprised she didn't turn on you with the strength of her half-million former inhabitants or something. Would have saved us a little trouble and a lot of talk, but she might be too gentle for that. Gentle, but not meek; imagine what it must have taken for her to come up here in the first place and manifest herself to you. That must have been as difficult as us coming here from Pandora.
"Do you understand what I'm saying, Mr Putin? You've been puffing and blowing and snorting contempt, and maybe that's all you're made of. But a lot of people have gone through a lot of trouble to try to save you from yourself, and the least you could have done was hear them out.
"Very well; since you won't listen to us, I think it'd do you some good to be stuck with yourself for a little bit. Just you; no aides, no attendants, no ambassadors or fellow world leaders...just you, your thoughts, your deeds, your feelings if you have any, and see if you can stand yourself afterwards. The Dreamhunt will do that to you. So will the Change. By offering these things, we are saying we're not going to kill you outright. So we're right back to what Brenda said: Choose your poison. I'll wait..."
-
Vladimir Putin had been alone most of his life. Growing up in the former Soviet Union and making his way to the top wasn't a life that allowed for letting many people getting close. Yes, there had been companions on the way, but he had been always aware that any of them could slip a knife into his back any time - just the same as he had backstabbed several himself. There had been women too, but he didn't consider women completely his equal, they were for fun in the bedroom and carrying children. Not that he was especially close to his children either.
But this very moment had a very special flavour of being alone. He had to decide not how to get out of this situation, but about which way he'd suffer. Somehow he still couldn't wrap his head around it all, the whole situation being surreal.
Still, it was the situation he was in, so what were his options? He could drink whatever brew the soldier mixed up, suffer through hallucinations and either die or... what? He didn't believe in this crap about 'spirit animals' or whatever else there was supposed to be. Or he could get injected with whatever stuff this alien girl had in her claw and get... what? Changed? He frowned - that was what the 'merican guy was too, right? Didn't look so bad on the outside. Yeah, there was the grayish hue to his skin, but the guy was frickin strong, tall and looked healthy. Being strong... that was something he had always admired, not that spiritual treehugging stuff.
He took a deep breath and glared at Ni'ka. "Alright, alien freak. Bring it!"
-
"Ah," said Tangek. "Well, if you're going to do it that way, you'll experience some fever and chills before the process really gets going. Just in case, here's a shirt; you can sweat into it when you're hot, and it'll retain your body heat for when you feel cold. Catch--!"
Vladimir Putin found himself on the receiving end of an olive-green short-sleeved T-shirt. Just his color, he decided; it went perfectly with the camouflage trousers he liked to wear with the bare-torso look. He slipped it on, still looking a little dazed, and settled in for the sting...
...But then he noticed what was printed on the shirt. It was the cross-emblem and trident of the Ukrainian Defense Forces. The same shirt that that peasant, that bad comedian Volodymyr Zelenskyy preferred for his "presidential" videoconferences.
All of a sudden he didn't need Ni'ka's thorn to make him rage incoherently.
Brenda grinned widely at the healer and his...charge. "I think he's ready now," she quipped. "He won't feel a thing!"