Post by • Aerys • on Jan 3, 2010 23:14:55 GMT -5
And he thought flying in an airplane was bad.
Chris felt lethargic and on the verge of vomiting as he sat in the uncomfortable chair within the shuttle. It took every ounce of willpower not to sick up on the rest of Malandra's team, his jaws all but glued shut while the others around him babbled excitedly. He wanted to look out the viewing windows at the blend of teals, lavenders and cobalt that was Pandora, but he kept his gaze fixed on the floor in hopes of surviving the descent. It certainly didn't help that a few of the guardsmen in charge of shepherding the new recruits like a herd of sheep kept staring and grinning at him.
It's for the mission, it's for the mission, it's for the mission... The mantra pounded through his skull, keeping him from making an utter fool of himself in front of everyone. This was for the mission, after all; he wouldn't have been sitting in the chair if it wasn't.
There had been much gossip over the true nature of the return to Pandora. Some claimed it was a cover up for a potential Resources Development Administration plot, others said it was a peace treaty forced by the U.N. to rectify what the RDA had destroyed nearly thirty years ago. Whatever the wild story concocted, Chris' knowledge of the new campaign rested with the belief that Malandra Ramakrishna and a group of scientists were revisiting the planet to scout for any possible agents to combat the degradation of Earth. It was certainly no secret that his home was suffering after its inhabitants spent years devouring its natural resources, and no secret that, in the brief time spent on Pandora, humans had discovered potential flora that possessed the possibility of slowing (And perhaps helping to rebuild) the decay of the Earth.
There was no solid evidence to prove either way, and considering Malandra's team had only been conducting research for six months and those traveling with him were the last of the group, there was no doubt in his mind that it would be a good deal of time before any true answers were reached.
The group, security escorts included, numbered no more than twenty. The reason for so few was two fold; establishing relations with the Na'vi and mending what damage RDA had wrought upon both their culture and planet had been a trial. It took nearly five years to garner any positive response from the natives of Pandora, and even then it was a tedious process of rebuilding. In the end they agreed to only a handful of researchers, limited military presence, and an agreement that any work done on the planet would be purely observational. The expense of funding such an operation also kept a tight rein on how many were allowed to participate, a notion that only served to weaken Christopher's resolve not to throw up.
The craft around him shuddered when it finally broke through the atmosphere, dropping enough to draw his gaze upwards at last. A fine mist clung to the canopies of rich rain forest, obscuring most of the view of the distant lands. Chris let out a sigh of relief when the vessel reached ground level and taxied into a small hangar adjacent to the compound, his heart easing in his chest. There was a flurry of movement around him, the other researchers eager to be off the shuttle and into the bay, but the boy remained in his seat and took several necessary breaths to calm himself.
"Chris, are you coming?" one of the older members called, lingering at the mouth of the shuttle. "We're supposed to meet Malandra in ten minutes."
"Yeah," he answered weakly, not quite as quick to get to his feet. His knees felt shaky, his limbs inordinately heavy, and his brain sluggish. He'd read about the aftereffects of cryo, but experiencing them was an entirely different story. It took far too much effort to get his bag over his shoulder without toppling over. "Yeah, I'm coming."
"You ready for this?" the man queried.
"I'm not sure..." Chris pulled his black, thick-framed glasses from his face and wiped them on his jacket. He felt better after walking even a handful of steps. "I think so."
"You think so?" his companion echoed, laughter coloring his voice. "There isn't any thinking left to do, Chris. We're here now."
No kidding.
Chris felt lethargic and on the verge of vomiting as he sat in the uncomfortable chair within the shuttle. It took every ounce of willpower not to sick up on the rest of Malandra's team, his jaws all but glued shut while the others around him babbled excitedly. He wanted to look out the viewing windows at the blend of teals, lavenders and cobalt that was Pandora, but he kept his gaze fixed on the floor in hopes of surviving the descent. It certainly didn't help that a few of the guardsmen in charge of shepherding the new recruits like a herd of sheep kept staring and grinning at him.
It's for the mission, it's for the mission, it's for the mission... The mantra pounded through his skull, keeping him from making an utter fool of himself in front of everyone. This was for the mission, after all; he wouldn't have been sitting in the chair if it wasn't.
There had been much gossip over the true nature of the return to Pandora. Some claimed it was a cover up for a potential Resources Development Administration plot, others said it was a peace treaty forced by the U.N. to rectify what the RDA had destroyed nearly thirty years ago. Whatever the wild story concocted, Chris' knowledge of the new campaign rested with the belief that Malandra Ramakrishna and a group of scientists were revisiting the planet to scout for any possible agents to combat the degradation of Earth. It was certainly no secret that his home was suffering after its inhabitants spent years devouring its natural resources, and no secret that, in the brief time spent on Pandora, humans had discovered potential flora that possessed the possibility of slowing (And perhaps helping to rebuild) the decay of the Earth.
There was no solid evidence to prove either way, and considering Malandra's team had only been conducting research for six months and those traveling with him were the last of the group, there was no doubt in his mind that it would be a good deal of time before any true answers were reached.
The group, security escorts included, numbered no more than twenty. The reason for so few was two fold; establishing relations with the Na'vi and mending what damage RDA had wrought upon both their culture and planet had been a trial. It took nearly five years to garner any positive response from the natives of Pandora, and even then it was a tedious process of rebuilding. In the end they agreed to only a handful of researchers, limited military presence, and an agreement that any work done on the planet would be purely observational. The expense of funding such an operation also kept a tight rein on how many were allowed to participate, a notion that only served to weaken Christopher's resolve not to throw up.
The craft around him shuddered when it finally broke through the atmosphere, dropping enough to draw his gaze upwards at last. A fine mist clung to the canopies of rich rain forest, obscuring most of the view of the distant lands. Chris let out a sigh of relief when the vessel reached ground level and taxied into a small hangar adjacent to the compound, his heart easing in his chest. There was a flurry of movement around him, the other researchers eager to be off the shuttle and into the bay, but the boy remained in his seat and took several necessary breaths to calm himself.
"Chris, are you coming?" one of the older members called, lingering at the mouth of the shuttle. "We're supposed to meet Malandra in ten minutes."
"Yeah," he answered weakly, not quite as quick to get to his feet. His knees felt shaky, his limbs inordinately heavy, and his brain sluggish. He'd read about the aftereffects of cryo, but experiencing them was an entirely different story. It took far too much effort to get his bag over his shoulder without toppling over. "Yeah, I'm coming."
"You ready for this?" the man queried.
"I'm not sure..." Chris pulled his black, thick-framed glasses from his face and wiped them on his jacket. He felt better after walking even a handful of steps. "I think so."
"You think so?" his companion echoed, laughter coloring his voice. "There isn't any thinking left to do, Chris. We're here now."
No kidding.
