A/N - I don't know that there's any way to measure the longest hiatuses for a story on FFN, but surely nine years has got to be up there.

A lot has happened over the near-decade, but the point is that I'm back and (mostly) in action.

Nine years is a long time to reflect on a fic. Going back through the story and my notes from the time to get things moving again put into sharp relief a lot of, well, let's call them "growing pains." There's a lot I'd do differently if I were starting from scratch, but that's neither here nor there.

Every chapter has undergone some kind of revision – ranging from cleaning up typos and grammatical errors to fully axing some sections. A couple of minor or one-time characters and unnecessary scenes did get the kibosh, and a few other beats were fleshed out.

If you are somehow able to recall the major beats of the story so far, nothing significant has changed. So while you don't have to go back and re-read everything if you feel like you're up-to-date – so to speak – I do think the chapters' general quality has improved from when I first put them up.

Lastly, to assuage fears of another abandonment: I have completed the story – and, in a strange state of affairs, on the same laptop on which it started. It's done and ready to go. Just like in the old days, I'll post one chapter a week (not that there are many left to go – I definitely quit just before the finish line) on Sunday evenings, U.S. Eastern time.

To those of you old readers who are coming back, thanks for hanging in there and for your continued support. To the new ones, welcome. To all of you, I hope you enjoy.

Avatar is the property of people who aren't me. This work of fiction is not authorized by those people.

Stairs were familiar to him. Countless generations of cultivating the tangled growth of trees into the single, massive organism that his people called their home included complex inner branchworks to aid the people as they moved up and down. These at places included carved stones inserted into the trunks nearer to the base of the tree and on thick branches where slick mosses thrived to help with proper footing.

Tseyo was not surprised that the Sky People had taken such an organic concept and turned it into something unnatural.

The confined, whitewashed tower of stairs had become a dizzied blur as he looped around and around the seemingly endless, upward spiral towards an uncertain destination. Tseyo's budding claustrophobia was not helped by the fact that he had to duck down to avoid hitting his head on the bases of steps above him. Furthermore, he was not moving nearly as fast as he knew he could. He had to keep his long stride in check so as not to get ahead of the Sky People – and they seemed to move slower with each passing moment.

His teacher was fast becoming winded by the exercise. Despite her brave effort to conceal the pain, the female warrior's limp showed just how badly she was suffering from her injury. The medicine man was ahead of the group, but he seemed uncertain at times about being in front. Given their circumstances, it was no surprise to Tseyo that the enemy soldiers were able to set upon their position before they could find safety.

A group of six enemy warriors appeared several landings below Tseyo, and they did not hesitate to open fire on him and his allies. Their shooting was wild and remarkably undisciplined; but the cacophonous sound of their assault was amplified and made more fearsome by the cavernous stairwell. Despite the barrage of fire, none of the bullets found a mark.

In response to the attack, Tseyo leaned over the railing and managed a shot from his blowdart; but the steep angle of his attack ensured that he, like his adversaries, missed striking a target. His friends managed to fire back and fell one of the enemy; but, to Tseyo's astonishment, the man was able to stand up and retreat after being struck.

As Tseyo reloaded – and the opposing warriors sent another volley of gunfire up the stairs – Norm and the woman warrior shouted at each other to be heard over the battle's din. Soon after, Norm placed his hand on Tseyo's shoulder, leaned close and said, "We have to keep moving." Indicating the others, he added, "They're going to stay here and cover us."

"They'll be killed," Tseyo replied, appalled by the suggestion.

"They'll be fine," Norm said unconvincingly, grabbing Tseyo's forearm and continuing up the stairs. While he appreciated his teacher's effort to compel him onward, Tseyo easily resisted being led away from the fight.

He pulled his arm free from Norm's grasp and said, "You go on. I'll find you shortly."

Ignoring Norm's exhortations – and curses – to move forward, Tseyo made a quick survey of his surroundings. Despite the confined quarters, Tseyo's mind wandered back to his home and recalled his preferred method for quickly descending the tree's height: a well-coordinated jump through its branches.

Tseyo braced himself on the stairway's railing, and then he leapt forward.

He made it down to the enemies' position in no time, falling faster than he had expected. He abruptly stopped his descent by grabbing the rails of stairs just above the opposing soldiers, and then he swung himself into their midst, knocking two of the enemy onto their backs. The instant Tseyo had his footing, he unsheathed the knife that his clan had entrusted to him, and then he set upon the enemy in earnest.

The first two warriors Tseyo eliminated with his blade were still in a state of surprise from his sudden assault on their group. The third reached for a smaller gun on his waist, but Tseyo's knife easily passed through his armor and into his stomach before he could make any use of the weapon.

When Tseyo turned to the fourth warrior, he was about ready to fire his long gun; but the expected crack of gunfire came instead from the female warrior in Tseyo's group. The soldier crumpled to the floor with a moan and writhed instead of standing up.

The two soldiers who had been knocked to the floor in Tseyo's initial attack had gotten back to their feet, but they were not fast enough to prevent him from cutting open their throats.

Tseyo's attack had taken mere moments and left his senses heightened in anticipation of another attack.

He did not have to wait long.

Another group of warriors tried to enter the stairwell, and Tseyo threw himself against the door to block them. As they pounded against the door, Tseyo reached over and dragged one of the corpses towards him. When it was close enough, he propped it against the door; and that gave him enough added resistance to move yet another body to reinforce the first, followed by the others.

Confident in the his barricade of the dead and dying, Tseyo re-ascended the stairwell – forgoing the stairs to instead climb along the rails, hanging precariously over the long drop to the first landing – until he rejoined his allies, who had taken advantage of his attack and progressed well ahead from where he had left them.

"We're almost there," Norm said.

"How much farther?"

"Three more levels."

Tseyo continued his ascent independent of the others. When he reached the correct landing, he swung himself over the railing and impatiently waited by the door for his group to catch up. In his impatience, however, he had a moment to pause and hope that there was not an army waiting for them when they emerged from the stairs.

Once the archives download had completed, Abe returned with Franklin to the suite's main conference room. Abe paced about, waiting for the group to arrive. Time was ticking down not just on their window to catch Chairman Savage, but also on his ability to stop the raid on his home. He did not doubt that Dawn would try to get Krysta and Natalie to safety, but he also had little doubt that Krysta would resist.

Playing on his worries, Franklin quipped, "You know, if Janet and I aren't up in the chairman's conference room soon, he's going to send people down here to find us."

"I'm aware of that," Abe replied.

"So what's your next move?" he asked. "Wherever your friends are – if they aren't already caught – I don't think they'll be here quickly. And I don't think you'll be able to get very far with or without their help, not with the building in lock-down."

Abe did his best to ignore him.

"It's not too late for a deal, Abe," Franklin offered against the silence.

Abe chuckled and replied, "I'm glad to know you think I'm that stupid. The chairman sent a strike team against my family. That tells me all I need to know about his negotiating platform."

"He's not working with all the facts. He thinks you're just on a revenge mission – or not a simple one, anyway. You've obviously taken some pretty big risks to get what you're after. If it's so important, perhaps…"

Abe turned away from the door, pushed the executive against a wall and said, "No deals, Frank. This is happening the way I want it to happen. You're too late to change it."

Franklin looked afraid only for a moment. Once Abe released his grip, he straightened his tie and casually asked, "Do you know what's going to happen to you if you live through this? Have you thought that through?"

"Frank, this is your last chance to shut up before I hurt you."

"They've figured out how to keep people awake while in cryostasis," he continued. "You know how criminals can receive sentences of hundreds of years in prison? Well, now that's actually possible. Supreme Court declined to rule it 'cruel and unusual,' too. So how many hundreds of years do you think you're going to get for D.C. and Chicago, Abe?"

Abe struck the butt of his pistol across Franklin's face, knocking off the executive's glasses and causing him to fall to the floor. Even with their faces against the wall, unable to witness the assault on their boss, a few of the captive employees gasped and stirred at the sound of the gun striking the man's flesh. "At least I'll have earned six months of them," Abe said.

Franklin spit up some blood, recovered his glasses, and calmly replied, "If I recall the California penal code correctly, that would be six months plus ten years. You used your gun."

"Duly noted," Abe said with a scoff.

At that moment, Abe's earpiece came to life with Norm's very winded voice. "Abe, we're outside the office."

"It's about time," Abe replied. He ordered Ashley to keep the hostages covered while he hurried to the suite's main door. Abe was more than a little concerned by the sight that greeted him when he arrived at the office's door.

Matthew appeared to be the only person who made it through the ascent unscathed, if only slightly winded. Norm looked to be completely out of breath, and Amy's left arm was covered in blood. Tseyo, while not showing any wounds of his own, had splatters and streaks of blood on him. His hands were soaked in crimson.

Abe tried not to dwell too long on the sight of the harried team before he opened the door. "How many are behind you?" he asked as they quickly entered the office.

"Lots," Amy said. "And they're right on our heels."

Abe nodded and, when the door closed behind them, entered an emergency code to disable the lock. It would not take the guards long to override the block, if they did not simply blow the door from its frame to continue their chase. Every second he could delay them, however, was worth the effort.

They hurried back to the conference room, where Abe said, "All right, Frank, I need you now."

"Whatever it is, I—," he began to reply, but stopped in mid-thought. Without having to check over his shoulder, he knew the executive had caught sight of Tseyo; and the man seemed just about ready to collapse.

Janet's reaction was less reserved: She shrieked. In doing so, she caused the other hostages to risk their safety by daring to look away from the walls. Their reactions ranged from quiet horror to vocalized panic.

"Everybody shut up!" Ashley commanded. Although the screaming stopped, there was no shortage of whimpering. She grabbed Franklin and forced him from the conference room, and then the group continued down the corridor towards a back stairwell.

The stairwell was reserved for executives so that they could move about these protected floors without the hassle of going through guard stations at each office. It was also guarded by biometrics that Abe could not forge. "Open the door, Frank."

"I – I won't," he stammered. "I don't know what you're planning with that thing," he said with a quick nod to Tseyo, "but I'm not going to be coerced. I won't help you do it."

Abe leveled his gun at the man's forehead. "Vascular pattern recognition and retinal scans don't care if you're alive or only recently dead," he said sternly. "So open the door, or I'll have your corpse open it."

When the executive continued to hesitate, Abe pressed the gun into his forehead and said, "Frank, think about this: If I am going to go to prison for a thousand actual years, then what the fuck does it matter to me if I have your murder tagged on to the sentence?" He moved his finger over the trigger and shouted, "Open the door!"

"How long ago did I call down to him?" Chairman Savage demanded from his personal aide.

"About ten minutes, sir," the young man replied. "He hasn't called back."

He snorted. "No kidding? Tell security to find him – and Janet – and get them up here pronto." In his mind, he added, And tell HR to start out-processing Franklin, but terminating someone could wait.

"Yes, sir."

The screen at his conference table seat went dark once the aide disconnected. He sighed and looked back at the assembled, somewhat disheveled leadership of RDA. Screens placed at various points around the room showed packed conference rooms from all of RDA's satellite sites. Two screens, however, were conspicuously dark.

"All right," he began, "until Franklin gets up here, we aren't going to know the full scope of assets compromised by today's attack. But off the top of your heads, what did we lose in Washington and Chicago?"

"Sir, should you still be here?" Daniel Abrams, his director of all on-world mining operations, asked. "Security says that there's an active breach."

"Abe wants me to leave, Dan," he replied gruffly. "Obviously he's trying to cause a crisis among our shareholders and send us into a bankruptcy-by-panic." His anger beginning to rise, he continued more boisterously, "If I flee with my tail between my legs, he's going to win. So I'm staying!" He took a deep breath and sank back into his chair. "Now, that's why I need to know what was so important about D.C. and Chicago. What did we have there that could cripple us? Somebody tell me what he knows about those places that I don't."

The conversation was interrupted by a short, unmistakable exchange of gunfire outside the door. Immediately, three personal guards rushed to Savage's chair to grab him and escort him out of the room by a back entrance.

He offered no resistance.

However, when the entourage opened the panel to the back staircase, far from being a free passage, Abe greeted him with a gun leveled at his forehead.

Presumably to his escorts, but without breaking eye contact with him, Abe said, "I'll put a bullet in his brain before you get the chance to pull your guns on me. And at this range with this caliber, there won't be enough gray matter for surgeons to even think about reconstruction – so back off."

Savage could feel his escorts reaching for their weapons instead, so he barked, "Stand down."

"Smart," Abe said with a grin. With only cursory glances to the armed men, Abe commanded, "Put your weapons on the floor slowly, and then back away." The guards were reluctant, but they complied with the order.

As Abe stepped into the conference room, forcing Savage and his cohort to fall back, a short, young woman pushed past Abe and patted down the security guards for additional weapons. She found two apiece.

While the guards were divested of the tools of their trade and forced against a wall, Abe motioned towards the chairman's seat at the conference table. "Get comfortable, Mister Chairman. I promise this won't take long."

"What do you want, Abe?" he asked, standing his ground. "Whatever it is, you have one fucked-up way of asking for it."

Abe snorted. "I told Frank you wouldn't negotiate."

He thought he was going to choke on his own surprise. "Negotiate?" He chuckled and repeated, almost as a shout, "Negotiate?! I don't know what's going on in your head, Abe, but there's nothing worth…"

"I know about the conspiracy," Abe said, interrupting him. "The price-fixing case that you had me cover up? I saw the corroborating evidence on Pandora. It wasn't an elaborate extortion plot. It was a leak."

Savage raised an eyebrow. "All of this is because you're upset that you had to plug a leak? Abe, that was your fucking job!"

"I'm not mad about that," Abe replied. "I'm livid that you wanted me out of the way because of it! I put almost my entire adult life into this company. I was loyal to you, and you stabbed me in the back after I did your dirty work."

He chuckled while he took his seat, then turned to Abe and said, "The world's a harsh place, Abe. Eat or be eaten. Frankly, for all of your connections and resourcefulness, I'm surprised you didn't have someone watching your back. Then maybe it wouldn't have been so easy to shove you off."

"And Krysta? Natalie?"

"Just business, Abe. People needed to see the lengths I'd go to in order to protect my interests." He held out his hands in mock empathy. "C'mon, nobody here is buying your newfound self-righteousness. What you've done in the course of your loyal service to the company would exempt most men from sympathy."

"And I'm sure I'll have to face the music for that at some point," he replied. "But not before you do."

"What are you going to do, Abe? Go crying to the media, the same people who are broadcasting your acts of terrorism? How sympathetic do you think they're going to be?" He hardened his glare and added, "Or do you just want to go ahead and shoot me?"

"I am going to go to the media with this. I'll take my chances with their sympathy. However—." Abe filled his pregnant pause with an unnervingly sinister smile, and then continued, "No, Jim, I'm not going to shoot you. I'm not going to leave you to the courts, either."

Abe turned to the main conference room door and shouted, "Tseyo te Kllkx Muitan!"

The conference room's doors opened, and Savage was overcome with a sense of dread as a Na'vi – his head, arms and chest covered in war paint, his hands drenched in what was obviously blood – crouched through the passageway and into the room.

The assembled executives showed far less restraint than he did, as many shrieked and leapt from their chairs to look for an exit. Dashing their hopes, however, a small group of people filed in behind the Na'vi to block any possible escape. The horror among those in the room replayed on the multitude of television screens.

Cutting through the chaos which had quickly taken hold, the alien hissed at the panicking mass. Remarkably – horribly – the panic settled into an uneasy calm, and a few people returned to their seats.

Savage swallowed in a vain attempt to suppress his ever-growing fear. He glanced over to his former lieutenant and stammered out, "Abe—?"

The old enforcer ignored him. Abe looked at the Na'vi and said, pointing at him, "Tseyo, fìtutanìl kayllfro' tìsrawit ngeyä olo'!"

The tall ceiling of the conference room was meant to give the space an inherent grandeur, like the sprawling courts of the old monarchs. In this case, however, it meant that the Na'vi had no impediments to his movement. The alien glared at him, withdrew a long knife from a sheath on his belt, and then leapt onto the conference table.

Savage stood from his seat in a final attempt to flee, but the Na'vi charged across the table at a full sprint. The corporate master had barely managed to take three steps away from his chair by the time the alien jumped down from the table and grabbed him.

As he was lifted onto the back wall, coming eye-to-eye with the hunter, he could smell the blood on the hand holding him up. Savage could see the fear on his own face reflected in the alien's wide eyes at the point that the knife plunged into his chest.

Above the sound of his ribs splitting, through the pain which rapidly consumed him, Savage heard several people scream. He wanted to scream himself, but his pierced lungs no longer held the air necessary for the task. The Na'vi hissed when he gave the knife a sharp twist, fully opening his chest and perforating his heart.

The corporate master sensed numbness in his legs when he was finally released from the alien's grip, but he never felt his body hit the floor.

Watching Tseyo so-swiftly kill the wealthiest man alive reminded Abe too much of old nature documentaries which featured long-extinct predators successfully chasing down prey – enough so that it made his stomach turn. As Tseyo crouched over the body of Abe's former boss, bearing his teeth and thrashing his tail as he withdrew the knife from the lifeless body, Abe almost expected him to begin devouring the body.

Instead, Tseyo coolly wiped the flat sides of the knife against his thigh, at once cleaning the instrument of blood and creating a grim mark of his tally, before returning it to its sheath.

Abe, in kind, holstered his weapon in his belt, and then he looked out over the room of distraught executives. Even those on the monitors – or at least those who had not fled their boardrooms – appeared as stunned and frantic as though the murder had taken place in any of their offices. Among the panic-stricken faces in the room, however, was one person who seemed unmoved by the ordeal.

Tom Walsh was staring at Abe not with any kind of horror, but with something that affected him more deeply: disappointment. Soon after the two met eyes, the esteemed doctor, scholar and mentor just shook his head and looked away.

In his mind, Abe had envisioned himself taking Savage's seat for dramatic effect; however, he now found himself with no desire to be anywhere near the man's corpse. He chose to address the room while standing instead.

Abe took a deep breath, held up his hands, and then calmly, but firmly, addressed the corporate leaders, "If everybody could please retake their seats, we'll get on with this meeting – albeit with a modified agenda."

"Are you fucking crazy?!" a man called out. "We're not doing a goddamned thing you say. This is terrorism!"

"You're right." He let out a short laugh and continued, "You're absolutely right. I've been rejecting the label, but you're right. This is terrorism. So given that, and given what you've just witnessed, ask yourself: How much do you want to argue with me right now?"

Nobody responded. In the silence, Abe took a moment to take stock of his situation.

Tseyo, his tail raised and twitching, was standing over the body of the former Chairman – still too much like a predator guarding its kill. Matthew and Ashley were keeping the bodyguards at gunpoint, while Norm, barely in control of his breath, kept eye on the executives. Amy also seemed to be struggling with breathing, but he figured that had to do more with the profusely bleeding wound in her shoulder than anything else.

For her sake, if not for all of theirs, he knew he had to act quickly.

"Tom," he said, reclaiming the scientist's attention, "unless things have changed in the company's order of succession, I presume that you're now the Acting Chairman."

"I am," he flatly replied.

"Then as your first order of business," Abe continued, "you need to recall the armada headed for Pandora."

"And if I don't?"

Before Abe could respond, Ashley fired a shot into the ceiling, catching everyone off-guard and eliciting a number of cries. Abe turned to glare at her, but she ignored him, instead taking aim Tom and barking, "Then we'll keep going through the order of succession until someone does!"

Tom stared back at her for a moment before he sighed and said, "Great company you're keeping these days, Abe. Very nice." He looked over at Savage's corpse and said, "I need his keycards."

Abe, with some hesitation, approached the body. Tseyo's tail lashed as he approached, but Norm said something to get him to step aside. Abe tried to ignore the massive hole in his former overlord's torso as he rummaged through the deceased's pockets for his card. Once he found it, he could not retreat quickly enough and hand it to Tom.

Tom clicked both into slots that were in front of him, which resulted in a projection of a menu to allow Tom to navigate through a morass of executive functions. Eventually, he found an area marked, "Continuity of Operations," and after a few more flicks through images, said, "This is Doctor Thomas Walsh, Chief of Research and Development, declaring that James Savage, Chairman of the Board and Chief Executive Officer, is deceased as of Tuesday, February Eleven, Twenty-One Seventy-Two. I am hereby assuming his functions as Acting Chairman of the Board until a replacement can be appointed."

It took a moment for his declaration to process, followed by a message seeking his confirmation under threat of suffering numerous legal penalties – which he did.

Soon after he was confirmed as the new, nominal head of RDA, he was able to access a number of folders that had been previously red-lined. He opened up "Fleet Operations," and activated one numbered, "A-6.66."

Abe raised an eyebrow, to which Tom curtly replied, "Month and year of deployment, Abe. Don't get excited."

A much larger projection took over the whole of the room. It showed the position of the armada on its journey to Pandora, noting that it had less than two months to arrival. Abe glanced at the read-out of personnel and equipment aboard the collective ships: hundreds of soldiers, armed vehicles in place of mining equipment, and more than enough ammunition to sustain a prolonged campaign.

"Cancel it," he instructed.

Tom sighed and brought up a menu of instructions. Silence gripped the room while he issued a string of commands to cancel the current mission and direct the armada homeward. Towards the end, he said, "Lots of people are going to wake up very angry that they won't be getting hazard pay."

"I'm sure the company can figure out some way to compensate them for their trouble." Abe took a breath. "Are you finished?"

"Almost," Tom coolly replied. Moments later, he entered the final commands, and he was asked to confirm issuing the superluminal communication. Following his affirmation, the projection showed a track of yellow shoot out from the Earth towards the armada. When the track met its target, the projection confirmed the orders' delivery, and Tom quickly collapsed the projection. "Satisfied?"

Abe looked over his shoulder to Tseyo and gave him a slight nod. "Na'vi lu kxuke."

Some of the tension in Tseyo's body language appeared to ease, but he still looked suspicious. Seeking confirmation, he turned his gaze towards Norm, who nodded more emphatically. It was then that all the pressure seemed to lift, and the alien warrior took in a sharp breath. He bowed his head and tapped his left hand to his forehead. "T'ank you," he said, and Abe thought he heard his voice crack. "T'ank you."

Abe offered a soft smile and a tap to his forehead in response. He might have said something in reply, but Tom growled, "Now what do you want me to do?" He curled his lip. "Perhaps I could halt the rest of our shipping fleets, or dump all my stock and throw us into freefall."

Abe snorted. "Now who's being dramatic?"

"Well, I may be the 'Chairman,' but since you're so inclined to call the shots, start calling them."

As he was about to instruct Tom to call off the raid on his home, one of the executives shrieked; and Abe perceived a scuffle breaking out behind him. He turned in time to see Tseyo reaching for Ashley, who had abandoned keeping the disarmed security in line and drawn her gun on Abe.

Abe perceived Tseyo grabbing Ashley's arm a fraction of a second after the gun's muzzle erupted twice in rapid succession. His abdomen convulsed, and he crumpled onto the floor. Bent over in pain while he reached for what he thought were the bullets' points of entry, he only perceived the sound of the resulting commotion while his sight was fixated on the blood flowing from his body.

More screams and shouts. More gunshots. People running.

When it sounded as though the room had finally emptied, he felt a heavy set of hands on his shoulder turn him over – an act which elicited an involuntary cry of pain. He looked up to see Tseyo staring back. "T'ngyute?!"

Before the Na'vi might have said more, Matthew came over. "Hang in there, Boss," he said. "We'll get you patched up." Abe might have found the doctor's assurance more comforting if Matthew had not immediately proceeded to press hard on the wound, causing him to cry out in pain much more voluntarily.

He managed looked down at his abdomen and saw the vibrant, red blood oozing from between Matthew's fingers. He felt dizzy. He perceived someone talking, but could not figure out who or to whom. He looked around to see if Natalie was okay, and was quickly overcome with panic when he could not see her. The room was too bright. Between his panic and the weight of his chest, he began to take rapid breaths, which also seemed to do the trick of causing the pain to recede.

Abe perceived shouting, but he decided he could worry about that after the dizziness went away. It struck him that the easiest way to facilitate that happening was just to fall into the brightness.

So much shouting.