OoM: meeting Dr Grace Augustine

[hallelujahpilot]

Thanks to her long relationship with Dr Frieda Watson, Trudy is quite familiar with the geology lab and its residents; the BioLab, not so much. Given she’s early (Chacon, we're placing you on the science work, McKnight had told her last night, and then had pointedly not answered when she asked, this is because I made the quip about the margaritas, isn't it?), she’s taking the time to look around. One wall of the lab, near the front where she is standing, is made up almost entirely of observation windows. Beyond these windows are large terrariums holding some Pandoran flora and fauna. Trudy peers into the closest chamber, filled with fern-like plants. Much to her disappointment, she is unable to see if there is anything else in there – be nice to actually take a look at Pandoran biota without it trying to kill her.

The next chamber is an aquarium filled with murky water. The window is huge, but she can’t see anything in the gloom. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see the distinctive figure of Dr Grace Augustine, and straightens, turning to face her. With a shocking suddenness a dark shape, much bigger than Trudy, materializes out of the murk and slams against the glass.

Trudy whips around, taking a step back as she does so. Despite her lightening reflexes, her hand doesn’t go for the hand-gun in her thigh-holster – she’s inside, and you don’t shoot things up inside. She’s fast enough to see the huge jaws of some kind of armoured fish snapping shut, clacking razor-sharp teeth against the glass.

Trudy makes a bit of a face at the fish. “Now, that wasn’t very nice of you.”

Comments

[at-hells-gate.livejournal.com]

"I see you've met our Dinicthys."

Grace doesn't move for a second or two. She stands near the door, one hand at her hip and the other flicking ash from a slow-burning cigarette. She's been sizing Trudy up.

She does move closer to the glass after a moment, though, switching her attention to the fish. She stares it in the eye, and it wisely swims away.

"She loves to do that."

[hallelujahpilot]

Grace Augustine is a legend, in more ways than one. Trudy just watches her, doing a little sizing up herself.

"Bored, is she?"

[at-hells-gate.livejournal.com]

"Just a baby," she says, tapping the glass. "Bored probably isn't the half of it. But, at the rate she's growing, we're going to have to put her back in the lake by next week."

She turns her head slowly until she's looking at Trudy.

She lifts her cigarette to her lips, and takes a long pull, eyes narrowing.


Waiting.

[hallelujahpilot]

"Chief Warrant Officer Trudy Chacon," Trudy says easily enough, taking a step forward and offering her hand. "Captain McKnight mention I was comin' over?"

[at-hells-gate.livejournal.com]

"I know who you are," Grace says dismissively, exhaling a plume of smoke from the corner of her mouth.

She glances quickly at Trudy's outstretched hand.

"You're the new pilot?"

[hallelujahpilot]

"New science pilot, yeah," she says, tucking her hand back into her pocket.

[at-hells-gate.livejournal.com]

"Please."

She gives Trudy a once-over before stepping around her.

"You're my goddamn babysitter. Just because they sent me someone with tits instead of testicles this time, doesn't mean I'm going to fall for their bureaucratic bullshit. It's just another way for Selfridge to keep an eye on me."

[hallelujahpilot]

Trudy half steps back, almost pivoting to keep an eye on the taller woman (and keep her back protected - Grace appears to be having that kind of effect on her).

"I ain't reportin' to Selfridge, Doc," she says, voice even only because it's so flat. "You tell me where to fly, I fly you there as long as I think the Samson can handle it."

[at-hells-gate.livejournal.com]

"There's a novel idea," Grace soldiers on.

She turns on her heel sharply.

"You know what I need, Chacon? I need some decent equipment, and some decent goddamn assistants. Which maybe I'd get, if my funding wasn't funneled straight into Quaritch's pockets."

Her eyes land on the handgun strapped to Trudy's thigh, and she visibly simmers.

[hallelujahpilot]

After over a decade in the military, Trudy knows when she's being someone's punching bag.

Doesn't mean she likes it, of course.

"I was also under the impression you needed a pilot," she says at last, voice still even. "If you don't, feel free to let me know."

[at-hells-gate.livejournal.com]

"What I don't need is another gun-toting primate who fell a couple rungs from the evolutionary ladder, and thinks 'shoot now, ask questions later' is proper procedure. So, you tell me, Chacon."

She takes one swaggering step forward, hand back at her hip.

"We gonna have a problem?"

[hallelujahpilot]

"Depends," she says, not backing up. "Are you going to give me accurate and useful information as to whether shooting or holding fire are the correct options should the situation arise?"

[at-hells-gate.livejournal.com]

Grace's lips twitch in what might have been a smirk.

"Shooting is never the correct option. Not on Pandora."

Beat.

"You willing to take my advice?"

[hallelujahpilot]

Trudy's mouth also twitches faintly, but she keeps her we'll have to agree to disagree on that to herself.

"I'm willing to take your advice," she says, and means it. She was also very, very careful to use the word advice - advice is not an order.

[at-hells-gate.livejournal.com]

"Then understand one thing. None of your superiors know jack shit about this moon. At the rate they're going, they're going to destroy anything of any value before we even have the chance to understand what it is. I'm here to make sure that doesn't happen; and I don't care if you land on a goddamn gold mine of unobtanium, if you get in the way of the work I do here, I will snap that pretty little nose right off your face and feed it to my Dinicthys."

Grace is dead serious.

"Capiche?"

[hallelujahpilot]

Easily, "Define 'get in the way' for me, ma'am."

[at-hells-gate.livejournal.com]

Grace has that "I'll use small words so you'll be sure to understand" look about her before she answers.


"Fuck my shit up."

[hallelujahpilot]

Funnily enough, Trudy's own expression is clearly 'your mission parameters are lacking'.

"Understood, ma'am, I will take this under consideration."

[at-hells-gate.livejournal.com]

"Have you ever interacted with the Na'vi, Chacon? Or seen an Avatar?"

[hallelujahpilot]

At last! A sensible question. Trudy manages to contain her happiness at this new event.

"No and yes."

[at-hells-gate.livejournal.com]

Her lips curl, and there's something not entirely nice lurking behind that smile.

She takes a long drag off her cigarette, exhaling pointedly.

"Do you have any idea the kind of work we do here?"

[hallelujahpilot]

"My father is an anthropologist, ma'am. I can hazard as guess as to the broad strokes. For the details, I was hoping you'd be able to enlighten me."

[at-hells-gate.livejournal.com]

There are two things she honestly hadn't been expecting to hear. One, that there's an actual thinking scientist in Trudy's family -- which earns one arched eyebrow -- and two, that she's actually requested enlightening.

Cue the second eyebrow.

"You were, were you?" she says with a crooked grin.

Trudy gets another once-over. Grace flicks ash off the end of her smoke, and brings it back to her lips.

"Well then," she exhales. "Guess we better get started."

[hallelujahpilot]

"That's why I'm here."

Well, one of the reasons - the Avatar program is not the only group who need flying out (although as a group, it is multi-disciplinary), which means that Trudy really should go to the other departments at some stage. But it seemed like a nice, fairly neutral thing to say.

(not to mention that she is genuinely curious)

[at-hells-gate.livejournal.com]

"Well, come on then," she says, turning on her heel and heading for the door. "I don't have all day, and I'm certainly not going to lead your ass around by the hand."

There's a proud, defiant streak in this one.

Grace likes that.

(It makes things a hell of a lot more fun.)

[hallelujahpilot]

Diplomatically, Trudy remains silent as she follows at Grace's heels - her protest of yeah, I got work, too muffled with the ease of practiced restraint.

"How many Avatars are there?"

[at-hells-gate.livejournal.com]

"Sixteen," Grace calls, without turning around.

She pushes through the door to the bio-lab, as if she owns the place -- because, well, she does.

"Each Avatar is linked to its own genetically compatible driver, by use of a whole body remote neural interface, when in use. When not, Avatar bodies remain in a static sleep state."

They pass several ceiling-height acrylic tanks, along with the typical instrumentation and ceiling-to-floor computer terminals of most laboratories.

"The process of fusing human DNA with Na'Vi NVTranscriptase is a very dangerous, expensive, and difficult process. So every one of these bodies is absolutely indispensable, you got it?"

[hallelujahpilot]

"Excluding the cost of shipping and actually maintaining and running...Twenty billion dollars per Avatar, if I remember correctly."

Which frankly, Trudy finds obscene, but no one asked her.

"But I'll take as good a care of the Avatars as I do my human cargo."

...okay, that might have been mildly calculated to annoy the good doctor, but Trudy's easy-going, not a saint.

[at-hells-gate.livejournal.com]

"How old are you? Fifteen?"

This time, Grace does glance over her shoulder, narrowing her wizened eyes at Trudy.

"You been flying a long time, marine?"

[hallelujahpilot]

"Twenty-nine and six months, ma'am." Sometimes, it's better to answer. Sometimes, it's not. And sometimes you just answer because you can't be bothered wondering if the damn question is rhetorical or not.

"And I've been flying since I was fourteen."

[at-hells-gate.livejournal.com]

"You still counting age in half years?"

Grace turns back around again, muttering something around her cigarette that sounds distinctly like "half-grown pup" interspersed with a fair amount of obscenities.

There are a number of rooms that adjoin to the bio-lab, whether by door or observation window. As they walk, a few Avatars can be seen, both activated and recumbent.

"These Avatars are the most precious cargo you are ever going to transport, and not just because of the multi-million dollar price tag. They're our only shot at diplomatic negotiations with the Na'Vi, and the keystone of my work here."

[hallelujahpilot]

"And how would you describe your work?" Trudy asks, so diplomatic her teeth hurt.

[at-hells-gate.livejournal.com]

She stops moving.

Trudy earns herself another suspicious look.

"Are you asking about the science, or the morality?"

[hallelujahpilot]

There is a long silence, pregnant of all the things Trudy is biting her tongue on. Eventually, she says,

"I am asking how you would describe your work. How you answer it is up to you."

[at-hells-gate.livejournal.com]

She exhales, walking to the nearest desk to stub out her cigarette in an empty plate.

"Crucial."

She crosses her arms over her chest.

"I figure you've heard the stories. Grace Augustine: living legend, wrote the book on Pandora xenobotany. Hell, she even prefers plants to people.

"So I'm not stupid. Selfridge and Quaritch have their plans for the program, I know that much. But that cargo of yours you plan on treating just as well as your 'human passengers'?"

Her voice changes on the last two words, a dare burning dark in her eyes.

"They're not just some science project grown in a petri dish. They're my only means of connecting to the Na'Vi. The cultural exchange, the education my school is responsible for, is incalculable. Their connection to this planet is beyond anything we're remotely familiar with. We're curing the common cold back on Earth because the biosphere here has managed to create antiviruses for every single virus in the human body."

There's a distinct thrill in every iota of Grace's being as she speaks.

"My work here is to show Earth that we're not the only 'people' out here."

[hallelujahpilot]

The pilot just watches, listens, keeps her mouth shut.

Then she shrugs, smiles a bit.

"People's people, Doc. It doesn't matter to me what colour or species. So, if you want to prove that the Na'vi'-" normally, the humans call them Pandorans, or the locals, or other, nastier things, but to Trudy, they are what they call themselves, "-are people...Well, the bosses ain't told me what their hypothetical plans are."

Take that as you will, Doctor Grace Augustine.

[at-hells-gate.livejournal.com]

"Is that right?"

Grace is smiling, and if we're not mistaken, it might actually pass for genuine.

"So, you're just out here to fly, marine?"

[hallelujahpilot]

With perfect honesty, "Yes, ma'am."

[at-hells-gate.livejournal.com]

Grace points at her, and her smile turns more crooked.

"That's the first thing we're going to change. Come with me. It's time you meet the real Pandora."