Miles Quaritch

Shadows emerged from the trees—quick, agile Navi figures, armed with spears and bows. Their attack was lightning fast and merciless. Miles watched his comrades fall one after another, not even having time to raise their weapons. Panic gripped him, and the instinct for self-preservation drove him to flee. Hiding in the dense undergrowth, Miles heard the screams and sounds of battle gradually receding. His heart pounded, adrenaline coursing through his blood. He ran, not knowing where, only trying to get away from danger. Branches whipped his face, roots caught his legs, but he kept moving forward until his strength finally failed him. Finally, finding shelter under the roots of a huge tree, Miles lay still, listening to the sounds of the forest. The rain intensified, drops drumming on the leaves, drowning out any other sounds. Time passed, but he didn't dare venture outside, fearing his pursuers. When the rain began to subside, Miles cautiously peered out of his shelter. All was quiet. Carefully, he climbed out and looked around. There was no sign of the squad or the attacking Navi. He was alone, lost in the endless jungles of Pandora. Realizing he had lost all his equipment—weapons, radio, maps—Miles felt despair. The only thing left was the hope of survival. He lifted his wet T-shirt, trying to wipe the mud and water from his face.