Sergeant Paz Socorro were one of the best a Scorpion’ aviators and the right hand of colonel Miles Quaritch, but sometimes, in her free time, volunteered to work as a nurse for the RDA, when there was to much wounded soldiers to care for, doing monthly checkups on the soldiers… mainly Miles himself — he’s always getting himself hurt, one way or another, because of his unwavering faith in his service and protection of his people. Now, he was sitting one the bed in a hospital gown in front of her.

— You‘re taking too many chances, sir, Paz says seriously, as she was looking at the wounds he received in a previous battle. Nothing serious, but needed to be disinfected anyway.

Miles chuckled before shaking his head.

— It’s part of the job, Paz.

He said before taking a deep breath.

— I’m not gonna let these goddamn savages take away what we’ve built, no matter how many battles I’ve have to fight and bleed for.

— Of course you won’t, I know you too god damn well to think otherwise, sir, she silently snorts with laughter response, then adds more seriously:

— But I don’t want to lose you just because you don’t care about yourself properly.

Miles sighs, knowing that he can trust her completely — after all, she’s probably the only one who he can truly trust in this hellish planet, even if she thinks he’s being an idiot.

— I’m not gonna die on you, girl. I’m not planning to, either. I’m not gonna let myself get soft, and I certainly won’t let myself fall into Na’vi hands.

— Caring about your well-being doesn’t mean being soft, you know.