Recombinant Bridgehead

Freedom

Night fell on Bridgehead, and a nocturnal resident with large, sensitive eyes traversed the dark plains with confidence, checking over his shoulder every couple of metres as he progressed. On the outskirts of teepees, he impersonated the coo of a mourning dove so accurately it would have attracted another if they populated the world; instead, a fair Na'vi emerged, and silently she flew over the grounds towards her caller, whose ears perked in anticipation. He raised from a crouch to offer his hand, and she ducked with him behind the farthest tent. There, safe from spying eyes, Säro and Lyle fondly greeted one another.

Surreptitiously, he escorted her back towards the cabins. Passing his home, only the great wall of their enclosure was privy to their rendezvous as Lyle introduced her to a building of recent construction. Quietly rolling up the door, they entered the hangar.

In lieu of a roof, sturdy rods ran above their heads, sizable enough for perching. Lyle pressed some buttons on his wristband, and a green light started to flash on its display. From there, he watched the clear night sky in wait.

Time was getting on, and the man nervously rubbed his neck. "It's, uh, still in the working phase."

"Are you sure of this, Ly'il? I not want to make trouble."

"It's no trouble at all, trust me." He then flicked a charming smile. "Your English is getting pretty good."

She blushed and pressed her chest to steady her breathing when a sudden banshee cry startled her. She instinctively ducked behind the recombinant as an ikran, suited up in military gear, came swooping in.

Lyle nudged his thumb at the dragon. "That's Ballsy."

"Ball-zee," she repeated in amazement. Hearing her attempt the name caused an unwitting look of adoration. The soldier politely took her hand and led her up the wall-mounted stairs towards the fly gallery. Säro stood by as she watched Ly'il, all at once, link to his mount, wedge his foot in the stirrup, then lift onto the saddle.

"C'mon, little lady," he couldn't resist saying while offering his hand. Biting her bottom lip, she bravely stepped towards the animal. Once secure, Lyle gave the mental command, and Ballistic Missile fanned out his incredible wings in preparation. The beast launched from its perch to climb the air, and Säro, holding fast, beheld her village as it shrank before her eyes.

When they reached the city wall, she feared the guns, but a signal emanating from the ikran's outfit commanded the sentries to hold their tongues, and Lyle landed Ballsy on top of one just to assure his maiden they were perfectly safe. Beyond the turrets was the romantic wild, and it was unbelievable for the captive to see the natural horizon again; it was freedom itself. The ikran reared once more, and they took off for an adventure.

They breached the stratus aerosol, and sprays of white puffs danced in their wake as curling forms. The higher drifting clouds wore halos crowned by Polyphemus himself, and they lent their shine to the elated pair. Säro inhaled the nightly breeze, wincing from her head wrap flapping around her face as they increased in speed. She pulled it off, letting her kinky hair fan out, and gasped from the sensation of the wind brushing her head.

The trio journeyed to the Pandoran veldt, where animals raced the wind over a sprawling plain. At night, the flicking yellow grass appeared purple, and it bowed in unison under the ikran's mighty sweep.

Unknowingly, the tourists startled a troupe of unguldells, and the six-legged ballerinas, flaunting svelte necks laced in glowing freckles, sprinted across the savannah stage. The sky-riders flew alongside the graceful herd as they leapt into the air like they had wings themselves, igniting the ground with their dainty footwork.