DT 2021: Freedom to Find Out

Andra stood amongst the wilderness set before her and wondered what to make of it all. A two-hour march from the edge of town, there was not a single person or road in sight.
She left civilization behind, immersing herself in the first true sense of wildlands she had in almost three years. Her conditioned instincts twitched at her eyes, hands, legs, and mind. Thoughts raced, demanding to check her surroundings for hostile threats that weren’t there. Her mind ordered her close to the ground, scratch at the dirt and form a combat indention, and prepare her rifle for combat.
Andra did not budge.
There was no combat here. No rifle, no gear webbing. No fire control software, no power armor. Andra was alone and without purpose; just her and the spring hissing of wild bugs and the twittering of songbirds.
Mountainous foothills rose to her left and right. Listening close, the Spartan girl could hear the distant roar of the ocean even from half a kilometer away. A deep blue sky dressed in small clouds marked a pleasant day of…
Well, Andra didn’t really know.
The locals of Aomachi-chō, the first planned settlement on the frontier world of Furthest Point, warned her nothing lay beyond the farms of the Goldcrest Valley. The people were right of course, a single lonely road that ran to the edge of mountainous forests only to stop at a line of thick woods.
Ragged Ass Road. The townsfolk referred to the town of Aomachi more so by that vulgar nickname than the formal Japanese designation that adorned town shops and the local spaceport. It was an apt description, the young woman’s hips aching despite her supersoldier augmentations after the rigorous march to her unclear destination.
The locals knew what they were talking about, and yet, talk about a crisis of identity. The only history of this world’s Japanese origins was the company that terraformed it – Naoto Technologies.
Most of the current residents were a mix of peoples and cultures incorporated only as friends and family of former Naoto terraform engineers. All they had in common was their destination and a common tongue of standard UEG English. A brief reign by Russo-colonials from the secessionist Wealthian Coalition brought Russo-colonialism and pro-Insurrectionist culture to the world but even then, it didn’t seem to change the people or the world.
Maybe that was normal for colonies so far from Earth and the other human worlds. Andra didn’t have a good grasp of cultural nuances; she spent her life being told to point-and-shoot. Now Andra immersed herself deep in the pointless small talk that permeated through what the civilians called ‘everyday life.’
Was trying to be normal worth the trouble of letting old women throw gossip about her bony complexion? Did Andra have to repeat herself into infinitum with the haphazard origin story she gave herself to not address her Spartan background?
Despite the scenic locale and the cutesy little town, interacting with the residents grew old fast.
They were a screenshot stuck in time. A world with no past or future. Come sunset or sundown, the same life continued without interruption. Andra adapted more so to this routine every extra day she stayed here – that is if a constant boredom counted as ‘getting used’ to her new living arrangement.
It was her idea first; Andra had no right to complain.
But a question continuously nagged at her since setting foot in town to stay for the first time.
It pestered at her as she took her first steps from the Ragged Ass Road’s end and into the open wilderness passed the tree line that met her there.
She thought it constantly as she surveyed the wilderness out of frustration. She didn’t know what she wanted.
‘What did Andra want now?’
The question haunted her, coming up in conversation after conversation as an old lady remarked about job openings at the local terraform spire. After someone mentioned how starting families early was a good idea. That a local college provided opportunities for local kids looking to reach the stars.
The woods asked her too endlessly. What did she want from this world, these trees? What did she want from the hills, sea, and sky?
Andra didn’t know.
Despite her misgivings and increasing sense of stagnation, Andra found a silver lining in the memories of the failed and imperfect Spartans she met along her path to this point.
Roxanne. Shizuko. Joshua. Hera. Callum. Cassandra. Simon.
They all had an itch, something that called to them that they couldn’t put words into. Some had a stronger imagination than others, recognizing the dream they all sought at one point or another.
One not of war, but of a quiet peace. The world before the Covenant War. The distant memories of a warm home, parents, and family. Smiles and laughter every single day.
Andra had to admit it. Her soft smile broadened every day now. Her voice grew a little sweeter with each passing night. Her laughter lighter than at any time she could remember.
She had a word for it now. Thanks specifically to the Spartan she spent her entire career hating and wishing to kill.
Simon called it, ‘Freedom.’
Freedom of what?
Andra didn’t have a self-satisfactory answer. But she did know a few things.
She had the time to find out now. Or the time not to. It was her choice now. Hers and hers alone.
She had the freedom to choose where she wanted to go. Who to talk to, what to eat, when to wake up? These moments and decisions now belonged to her.
She had the freedom to do anything, be anything. Or do nothing at all.
Finally overcoming and calming the jittering mess that was her indecisive and irritated form, she wandered back to where a boy with dark disheveled hair rested beneath a large, sun-soaked oak tree. He looked tired, dark bags long since taking resident beneath his closed eye lids.
Merlin. Her partner, her best friend, her everything. Everything and more.
They went through hell to return to one another after the Created took over the galaxy; the war they ran from was still out there. But for a time, they could rest here on Furthest Point. Among the woods and in their own time.
She lowered herself to the dirt and shifted the boy’s backpack over to the side so she could lay down next to him. Something during his lonely adventure on Oyster Point destroyed his ability to lightly sleep and live between the twilight hours of day and night as he had as a Spartan for so many years.
Merlin’s voice hitched and whimpered softly, occasionally spiking with a hiss as he struggled through whatever nagged him in the darkness of his mind. Andra’s eyes softened in sympathy. Her hand rose to thumb his messy brown hair, having grown to cover his eyebrows since leaving the UNSC and Cleansing Blade behind.
He wouldn’t wake up now. Not for a while, all Andra could do was be there for him. Protect him with her presence. She lifted his left arm and shifted her body into his lax embrace. She wrapped the arm around herself as she clutched his chest and waist to her own body.
Andra took in his scent, an ugly mess of dirt, oil, and sweat. But she didn’t smell much better on that point. It was their scent together now. As would be every day going forward.
Days marked with the freedom to find out what they wanted to do and be.
She kissed the boy on the chin and eased herself into her own nap, the glow of Bouvet above warming their forms into a well-earned sleep. Merlin visibly shook less at her touch and Andra rested easy knowing they were together.