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

[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."