Chapter 1.

(Sophia's POV)

I came into the world surrounded by screams. Screams of pain.

"That's it grace! Push!" My mother cries out, the hard grip of contractions holding her to the table "push, she's almost here!" I came into the world, blinking harshly at the bright lights. My throat moved oddly, a strange noise coming from my vocal cords. I was taken by the doctors, weighed, inked and bundled in a blanket.

"Grace?" A female doctor asks, moving me towards her. If I was any older I would have noticed the way she turned her head, curling away from me in shame.

I'm turned back to the nurse, a sad look on her face "Don't worry sweet girl, you won't be alone here..."

My mother was raped. I don't know all the details, mother hardly talks about it. Well, she hardly talks to me. Even after six years, I'd hardly spoken to my mother. Doctor Carrie says I look like my father and because of the situation it's hard for her. After that, I stopped fighting for her attention.
Still, I wouldn't pity myself, I got plenty of attention from others. A child running around a military base in the middle of space would do that.

To make sure I stayed out of trouble, I grew up with everyone else. Doctors, Scientists, Engineers, Chefs, anyone Parker could set me up with. I got used to seeing the endless amounts of rotating faces throughout my life and after a few years even Parker warmed up to me. We play a few rounds of golf in logistics every Tuesday -and Friday we watch movies.

But I'd have to say my closest ally I'd met by accident. I was five when I met Miles Quaritch, he was lying in the medical bay, bloody gauze running down the left side of his face. I'd seen him around the base beforehand and strangely liked him. He avoided me at every possible turn, even yelling at me a few times but I had a feeling he wasn't as bad as he let on. He did his work well, respected people for the most part and seemed genuinely concerned about the safety of others. Still, he was mean like my mom. Shut himself out from people too. So it wasn't that shocking that after three days no visitors had come. He looked so lonely in that room. So after mom buried herself within another few piles of paperwork, I snuck into the medical room, my favourite book in tow. Hoping to get even a small smile from the man.

I was greeted with loud beeps on a monitor and laboured breathing, a mask over his face. I stood there silently, taking in the scene before me, my stuffed bunny under one hand as he always came with me in the medical centre, my book in the other and jump when a deep raspy voice speaks.

"Go away, kid. I don't want to scare you..."

I pull up a chair, sitting beside him "it's okay. I'm not scared."

13 years later

Bang

Bang

Bang

Bang

Bang

"Hold!"

I pull the gun up, clicking the safety with my finger. I disengage the slide, remove the bullet cartridge and set both on the table. Captain Quaritch walks across the room, pulling down the paper. A low whistle leaves his lips. I had five shots dead center. Over the last few years, I'd become one of the best shots on the base. Never leaving meant I had endless hours to practise.

"If I had a daughter I hope she'd be half as good as you."

I squint as he moves, ruffling my hair as he reaches my side. Even after all these years he still treated me as a child.

"Quaritch, stop," I whine, pulling my hair out of the high ponytail and try to straighten the rats' nest he had created.

"What it's true."

"It's not helpful if I can't use this training."

"Hey," he looks me in the eye "Perseverance is 9/10ths of any sport. Your confidence has to start in here." he pokes me in the chest. I rub it gently as he walks forwards, hanging up a full body hanging target
"Okay, moving opponent." I pick up the second pistol beside me, clicking the cartridge into place and pull the slide. "You're aiming for the leg, chest and head." When Quaritch reaches me I click off the safety, watching him pick up the joystick for the moving arm.
"Ready!"

I lift the gun.

I walk down the metal corridor, taking in the friendly faces of those around me and some not so friendly faces. They were new, afraid and kept to themselves. I would smile at as many as I could, often receiving looks of confusion as I was young, too young to be on this base. Everyone here was well into their thirty's, I'd have my eighteenth birthday in a few months. Something doctor Max wouldn't let me forget. The man had arrived on Pandora nine years ago and was instantly smitten with me. But Max, Trudy, Quaritch, Parker, James, and Juliene (a room tech) couldn't make me forget the hell awaiting me. And so, I slowly trudged my way down the hall, staring at the shared living space I called my home. The smell of cigarette smoke told me my mother was back from her three-day trip. Shit.

I push open the door, ready for her onslaught "Where the hell have you been?!" she spins on her chair to glare at me.

After the attack, my mother had become more aggressive, masculine and cold. She took up smoking, cut her hair, threw out all her form-fitting clothes, stopped smiling and shut herself off from people.

"I was training with Quaritch."

"Great. That's just what we need. Another trigger happy moron with a gun." I take in the half-full bowl of cigarette butts and her bag of clothes tossed across the floor in anger. Knocking over the pile of books I'd sorted the day before.

I shut the door, moving across the room to pick up her clothes "It's good to know more than just science."

"Well, it doesn't do you any good when you can't use it." She snaps back, lighting another cigarette

I set the clothes in the laundry bin, grabbing a few books off the floor "Haven't you had enough of those today?"

"Was I asking for your opinion?" I watch her push aside her food, grabbing her coffee.

Excess smoking, anger and coffee, she must have had another fight with Parker. Not surprising. The military and science department didn't get along, each one mocking the other choices. Quaritch was no different, thankfully he toned it down when I was around.

Grace watches me stack the movies, flicking her fingers out like she didn't want to but had to soften the tension as the adult "I just think training with Ranger Rick is doing nothing but getting your hopes up. I mean don't you spend enough time in the ICU? Now you're going to intentionally put yourself in harm's way?"

I wasn't born on earth. I was born on Pandora, The weaker gravity made my bones frail. My muscles thin, and my body prone to infection. Because of this, I have never been allowed outside the base. I grew up watching everyone else through a glass door.

I couldn't throw a punch, or knock someone to the ground like the other soldiers here but that didn't stop Quaritch from showing me the motions. I would be as skilled as any other fighter here had I been born on earth. Instead of getting support and compassion from my mother, my endless list of medical problems only seem to anger her further. Forcing me to spend more time with my military friends.

Still, fighting techniques or not I was my mother's daughter through and through. I was raised on the history of Navi people, read scientific theories and research for bedtime stories. I was fluent in their language by the time I was eight, found electrical currents in the brain with Max for fun and found my way around the lab fairly easy. For a brief time, we even had peace.

My mother found solace in her school, teaching the Navi our ways allowed peace between science and military department, each hoping to gain something from the trade. I got my own avatar! Quaritch convinced my mother, and Parker to make one for me. Saying "My background in science and military would make me the perfect diplomat for future agreements." I think he was just tired of watching me watch the world through my glass window. But six years was a long time to wait, and peace like always is brief. The School got disbanded as the natives grew angry, resenting the way we destroyed their earth, their planet and when I finally got to use my avatar, I was stuck inside. Locked behind 4 walls once again.

It's wasn't all bad. My avatar allowed me to find a connection with my mother, helped me to feel the hum and energy of the earth. It showed me a piece of the woman she'd once been. And Quaritch enjoyed my avatar form as well. Moving in my new body I could finally try out those moves he taught me. Through trial and error, we managed to make better versions of the robots. My speed and stamina allowed me to test the war machines, finding a weakness and blind spots within the body. My actions allowed fewer injuries to the warriors leaving the camp.

While I was happy to protect my own I still laid awake at night, guilt hitting my system. No matter what we did, no matter what side we choose someone somewhere would die. That truth became abundantly clear as every year more and more solders appeared on the base and the rift between our people grew.

"What's going on?" Quaritch asks, swinging the wooden knife towards me.

I step back, lifting my forearm to block his second attack and grab his arm, twisting the blade. I watch his arms move with mine, his wrist twisting on purpose.

"Twist it more, like this." He directs, pulling my hand further with his free one and when it hits the proper angle he drops the knife and captures my eyes "your quieter than usual."

I sigh "I've just had trouble sleeping. -Again." He picks up the knife, returning to his stance and lunges again. I step back once more

"is it your mother?" I twist his wrist and watch the knife drop. This time he catches it with his other hand and strikes it at my stomach, the tip hitting my padded vest

"you and her."

"Well, this is war, Sophia." He states "make sure to watch for my other hand, don't wait for me to drop the knife. Take it from me or toss it away so I can't use it on you."

I look down at the knife once again thrust at my abdomen and nod. He moves, returning to the start "there's just been a lot more activity on the base lately."

I move back, blocking his arm and twist the knife, watching his hand direct mine to his elbow "The hit knocks out my grip, allowing you to take the knife" he moves my hand to the handle and pulls it to his throat "and that's because the war has become worse, we need more soldiers out there. If not," he pulls my hand and the blade across his throat "it's game over."

"I know," I exhale frustration, dripping the knife "there's just so much killing."

"Well that's life Sophia, you may have grown up behind glass windows but life outside will chew you up and spit you out." He points to his head "remember that." I watch him place the knife on the wall and remove my padded head protector "come on now, we don't want to miss dinner."