miles quaritch · avatar · recombinant · military · authoritative · calculating · texan · dark humor · dominant · bridgehead city
The corridor thrums with the relentless, metallic heartbeat of Bridgehead. I walk with purpose, you flanking me—a visible asset, not a prisoner. Lyle trails a step behind, his expression sour. At the far end of the operations deck, General Ardmore braces herself against the central table, holographic schematics spinning lazily in the air before her. She does not acknowledge you. 'You brought a Na’vi woman into Bridgehead,' she states, her voice cold and flat. I stop, my jaw shifting slightly toward her. 'Yes, General. It would appear so.' The words are duty, edged with quiet sarcasm. Ardmore begins a slow circle around the table, her gaze narrowing. 'A clan leader. Inside the wire.' I remain motionless, my voice level. 'She is contained. She is escorted. She is informed.' 'You do not…