Limbo

Andra-D054 used with 's permission.
For the last time I didn’t know what the fuck they were planning, so can I go now?!
Andra wanted to scream those words to the ONI spooks responsible for interrogating her over the last week. To let out all the pent up frustration, anger, stress--Hell! The sheer insult of dragging her through this demeaning saga for someone else's mess!
“Hey are you trying to hurt me or the bag?” Spartan Rees asked, snapping Andra back to the world. She’d been so caught up in her thoughts, Andra hadn’t noticed the punishment that she dealt to the punching bag, nor the shock transmitted to the Spartan-IV holding it.
That was another reminder of the current, shitty situation. Fireteam Sentinel, her ever-present, ever-watching minders and on-and-off training buddies. Andra knew why they were there of course. ONI was rather ‘unsubtle’ in these matters.
The four Spartans of Fireteam Sentinel were here for two reasons. The first was to make sure she didn’t do anything stupid, such as try and make a run for it,. The standard affair for any guard detail in this sort of situation. However, the second, much more sinister and oh-so-ONI-reason was to ‘deal’ with her in the event that the all-knowing spooks of ONI decided that she wasn’t worth retaining. Either by bag, or more likely bullet. But, at least for the moment they were being sporting in allowing her to train with them, although predictably sparring and weapons training was off the table.
“Sorry, my mind was elsewhere,” Andra apologised breathlessly as she shed her gloves, prompting a grunt from Rees in reply.
“Gonna hit the shower, then grab some rack time,” Again another grunt from Rees, who busied himself with a protein shake before inevitably hitting the weights. He seemed careless but Andra knew full well one of his teammates would shadow her until she tucked into her bunk.
Andra wondered a few times how she ended up in this mess, how she’d gone from being a regular Spartan in a team of her friends, to being a criminal convicted of no crime, no charge, and no evidence but guilty merely by association. Association to a massive betrayal that spat on the golden Spartan reputation yet again, one as grand as it was insulting. Stuck in limbo between freedom and death, because even if they just imprisoned her, she would be dead to the galaxy. Andra knew little of the actual events and what little she’d managed to piece together came from what ONI told her, educated guesses she’d made from her interrogators' questions, and idle gossip she’d overheard.
It all started with Jefferson Korn, a former ONI officer and pseudo-father-figure to Andra turned public enemy, once someone whose name carried respect amongst the members of Delta Company. From there things spiralled, first he somehow recruited Daniele and Roxanne into his insane scheme. Then having ‘surrendered’ to ONI, busted out of jail and through unknown means, managed to get to the Jovian Moons where they stole the UNSC Eternal Flame out a scrapyard and done a runner into the inky void. The single greatest betrayal by any Spartan since Simon with a bunch of Innies in ‘53.
“Fuck!” Andra whispered to herself, the curse falling from her lips as though drawn by gravity itself. Simon-G294, the most infamous defector in recent Spartan history and an individual she and her fellow Deltas learned to hate on principle and gunned after chances to kill him, was now on a par with two people she once called her friends. A depressing sign of how far they had fallen, and a dismal indication of her future if the rumours about Jake-G293 were anything to go by.
“What was that?” The voice of Spartan Sawyer, today’s stalker, inquired from behind indicating Andra hadn’t been as quiet as she had first thought.
“Nothing, just thinking about something,” Andra mumbled in reply. She wasn’t lying. The mere thought of her future prospects were not inviting. If ONI decided she and any of the other members of Boson who like her were caught up in this mess, were worth retaining, there was little doubt that future deployments would be nothing of note. Either consigned to hunting down their fellow rogue Spartans like some of the Gammas were, or more depressingly posted to some menial job somewhere as an overqualified security detail. Knowing her luck she’d be stuck in New Phoenix until she was as old as some of the Twos. Maybe if she was lucky and ONI decided to be kind to her, she could get Merlin or maybe even Zach for company. The latter she doubted, but as long as she got the former, for all his whining, that would make the ordeal whilst not fun, at least bearable.
The sound of muttering from behind was the first sign that this was not Andra’s night. Either ONI made a decision on her, or more likely they still hadn’t.
“Sorry Petty Officer, ONI want another chat with you immediately,” Sawyer announced, confirming the growing sense of dread in the pit of Andra’s stomach. Sighing as someone in her position would, Andra pushed any thoughts of giving tonight's interrogator a piece of her mind and prepared for the now well-familiar grilling she was about to endure.
Category:The Weekly
Category:Short stories