ON HOLD Project Jarhead | A Short Story

Chapter One | Observation

Another 7AM start pulled me from my dreams with the buzzing of my alarm clock.

I slapped my hand at the wall above my head, fumbling for the button on the built-in screen until I finally managed to turn the incessant sound off.

Rolling onto my back, I brushed my dark hair from my face. It would've been easy to go back to sleep, dozing off just out of reach; but I knew if I did, Grace herself would barge into my closet-sized room and pull me from my bunk.

With a yawn, I pulled myself up, rubbing at my face. I swung my legs off the edge of the bed before sliding down to the gray carpeted floor below.

Since I assumed today's schedule consisted of sitting behind a computer, I yanked my hair into a messy bun and pulled on a pair of dark green cargo pants. With a quick sniff of the graphic t-shirt I had worn to bed, I decided changing wasn't necessary and headed for the bathrooms to wash up before heading into the lab.

I was a biologist on the Avatar Program, spearheaded by Dr. Grace Augustine under the Science Operations branch of the Resources Development Administration. Relatively new to the role, after arriving on Pandora six months ago, I had shadowed all of Grace's work while staying at the Hell's Gate base. Learning as much as I could about everything this planet had to offer. From each living thing beyond the walls of the compound, to better understanding the native clans of sapient humanoids known as Na'vi.

The Avatar program was designed to make exploration of Pandora easier. Recombinant DNA technology— basically mixing human DNA with the genetics of the Omaticaya Na'vi clan, a hybrid of the two was created, an Avatar. Driven by the mind of a human operator, the hybrids stood at nine-feet tall, with blue skin, tails, and long black braided hair. Most of my role was to keep an eye on everything they did and logging all activity. Our team kept records on improvements, changes, or any issues making sure they were receiving the nutrients and rest required to keep the Avatar body healthy.

A piece of advice I should've considered taking for myself.

Still barely awake, I shuffled into the lab with a fresh mug of coffee in hand, a white lab coat tied around my waist, and an ID tag hanging from my neck. The aftereffects of staying up until 3AM, binging reruns of my favorite show plagued my body. I clung to the coffee mug like it was my life source, my version of Eywa.

"Morning, Quinn," Dr. Max Patel chirped from his desk in the lab. His head of curly black hair popped up from behind his computer screen before he gave me a small wave.

I tried for a smile – though it was more of a grimace - as I crossed to my desk.

Placing the coffee on said desk, I took a seat. Yawning, I tapped the spacebar on the computer keyboard, watching the double screen on my desk light up with their translucent backgrounds.

I opened up the files I had left off with yesterday, reading over the stats for the recent Avatar driver links. From the brain scans on file, both had gone extremely well. Even if they had risked running outside immediately after the link process. Not exactly the wisest decision, but according to the notes on file, nothing went wrong.

Norm Spellman had logged roughly 520 hours of link simulation time in preparation for the program and had studied the Na'vi language for five years before arriving in Pandora. He'd been trained as a scientist, like many of the other volunteers from Earth.

I clicked the file of the second driver. A complete novice to the Avatar program with no notable knowledge of how any of it worked. His file was almost a clean slate, except for his history.

Jake Sully. Ex-marine. Paraplegic from waist down. Brother, dead.

His brother, Tom Sully, had been the one we needed – a trained scientist just like Norm – but had been killed before his journey to Pandora could begin. It was a sad, unfortunate circumstance, but being a twin meant the DNA sequencing of Jake Sully to connect to the existing Avatar was achievable.