Heaven and Earth Interlude: The Farewell and Into the Inevitable

Hera leaned back against the Mastodon that had taken her back to the Kru’desh camp, one leg crossed over the other. Her head reaching skywards and a cigarette limply held between her chapped lips. The smoke billowed upwards. The sky was inkblack and cloudless; the stars faintly shimmered above. The camp around her was a cacophony of noise and full of manic deconstruction as the Legion prepared to move off world. Everyone gave her a wide berth and no one asked her to help. She took a deep drag of her cigarette and held it in her lungs for a moment before exhaling. She flicked the ash carelessly to the ground before placing it in her lips once again. 
The brief conversation she had had with Simon played in her head. He hadn’t said anything on the journey back and neither had so much as glanced at one another in the cramped space. It was odd, she thought, to have finally verbalised what had been internal for so long. Another drag of her cigarette. The galaxy she now found herself alone in had changed enormously in the few months since Joshua’s death. The overwhelming presence of her once permanent partner finally felt lighter. He had been Hera’s tether to the UNSC, to her life as a Spartan. A life so indelibly marked on her that to conceive of walking away felt like an act of rebellion; her own personal insurrection. Hera noticed the first clouds in the sky begin to form, the stars retreating from view. Their incandescence faltered. Hera took a long drag and kept the cigarette in her hand as it now lay by her side. 
Hera’s eyes remained transfixed on the sky above, the cybernetics forced upon her kept it unnaturally clear and detailed. Another reason to leave behind what she’d known. Perhaps a chance to finally be a person of her own making. 
“One of those for me?” a voice said, stirring her from her meditation.
Hera didn’t look down from the sky.
“I didn’t know you smoked,” she replied. 
“I died and came back to life,” he joked tonelessly, “firsts for everything, I guess.”
She finally looked down from the sky to look at Simon. His face was soot-covered and lifeless. She gave him a wry smile before dropping the cigarette from her hands and taking out the carton. Three left.
“Lucky,” she said, offering him one. 
Simon took one and placed it to his lips. Hera sparked her lighter, her hands cupped around the flame. She gently touched Simon’s hand to lift his cigarette up ever so slightly. Simon inhaled and the cigarette came to life. Hera lit her own. Two small orange flames danced in the dark.
Simon turned to recline on the Mastodon like Hera. The two stood in silence. Hera’s eyes returned to the heavens, Simon’s on the earth. Each surveying their respective domains with diligence. Simon occasionally soundlessly gave direction to his troops. Hera remained still. 
Half a cigarette later, Simon turned to look at his fellow Gamma.
“Looking for a purpose up there?” 
“No,” Hera said without moving.
A drag in harmony.
“Josh and I spent a long time in space, spent a long travelling between planets,” she began, “I don’t think I ever just stopped to look at the stars from below.”
Simon turned his face upwards. 
“Josh is dead,” she continued, “and I feel different. Renewed, almost. No longer shackled to him or his beliefs.” 
“He was committed,” Simon said, “Always heard rumours of what you two had gotten up to.”
Hera shook her head.
“You didn’t see him towards the end,” she said, taking another drag. “He wasn’t anything like the boy you knew on Onyx, Simon. He was dead long before he was dead.” 
Simon said nothing, his eyes firmly back on Earth.
“I know what you mean.”
“Don’t be stupid, Simon,” Hera spat, “you’re nothing like how he was. Listlessly moving from mission to mission, no passion in anything.”
Simon said nothing, but Hera continued.
“Not until he met Andra’s team. Then some misshapen Josh came back."
Hera dropped her cigarette.
"You know he broke Merlin’s ribs just to stop them from being deployed?”
Simon raised an eyebrow.
“That doesn’t sound like the Josh I remember.”
“It wasn’t,” Hera said.
She fumbled with her carton, taking out the final cigarette and lit it quickly, exhaling the smoke to the stars. Simon was still smoking his own.
“God forgive me but I’m glad he’s dead, and I think he is too. More than anything I think he wanted to die.” 
A pause.
“I hope he’s at peace.”
Simon took one final inhale before flicking his cigarette away. The cacophony has become much less raucous as the camp was almost completely torn down.
“We better get going, I think Umbra’s looking to leave.”
Hera grabbed Simon’s arm as he started to walk away. Instinctively he reached for a weapon.
“Wait,” Hera said, “just… one moment, Simon.”
Simon wrestled his arm away from Hera and stood facing her. His arms folded over his chest. 
“We were friends once, long ago, and while I can never forgive you for what you’ve done, I have come to appreciate some of your perspectives in our time together.”
Simon remained nonplussed.
“But I want to do something for you, something I think you need to do.”
Hera reached into one of her jerkin’s pockets and handed him a small data-pad.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“It’s coordinates,” she said.
“For where?”
“If you can, go to Merken and pay your respects. Take Andra with you.”
“What’s on Merken?”
“Just go,” she said, “if I tell you you won’t go otherwise."
Hera took a step to go, but stopped herself.
"I've left something in the Mastodon, a bag of mine," she let her arms fall by her side, "If I'm leaving it behind, I'm leaving it all behind. There's the knife Mendez gave me. It's yours if you want it, but Andra might like it."
She sighed deeply.
“Look after her, Simon,” she said softly, “If there is only one good thing Josh did it was teach her.” 
Hera lifted her hand to Simon’s face and cupped it briefly.
“Goodbye, Simon,” she said. “Our paths won’t cross again, good luck.”
Hera turned and left, melting into the hustle and bustle of the Legion.
Simon looked up, the stars were hidden from view, the clouds blanketing them. 
He was cold.