DT 2022: Second Visit

Andra didn’t register the depth of her longing until the shaking smoothed out and her Pelican dropship broke free into Furthest Point’s lower atmosphere.
Through the side window of the aircraft’s inner atrium, the familiar glow of the seeming ever-summer ocean and green grasslands of Aomachi reached out and once more warmed her with the relief of a faraway dreamland. On her second visit, the independent human colony seemed as idyllic as the first time.
This lack of change—Furthest Point and the town of Aomachi seem frozen in an acrylic painting despite the galaxy of turmoil beyond its even bluer skies. It was a lie of premonition of course because no place went untouched. However, the unchanged vista fed the illusion and Andra was quick to embrace the small town visage with deep square kilometers of drawn out crop fields and small boxy homesteads forged from permacrete, repurposed starship plasters, and native oak trees that drew her in.
“Tower, Pelican 482 inbound from large freighter Buran under independent trade flag. We are adjusting to match recommended course heading.”
Andra stepped away from the window as she heard chatter between the co-pilot and the control tower at the Aomachi space port. The Pelican rumbled as it flew through a downthrust of oceanic gusts forcing Andra to stumble through the auto doorframe before catching herself with some grace on a railing.
Inside the rear compartment of the aircraft, Andra pushed past her teammates and heavy equipment including a Brokkr armor assembler hidden away behind crowded boxes of humanitarian supplies to trade. Her eyes drifted with slight interest over the differing assortment of supersoldiers joining her on the trip.
Franklin sat near the back in his bulbous, heavy armor and blood-red visor as he inspected every surface of his titanium shell and holography displays ensuring he had enough smart ammo and grenades to take on a small army all his own. Shima splattered her digital camouflage-laden sniper suit with a large can of nano-weaving invisibility paint, both to drastically increase her stealth as a sniper and as a lazy method of not doing armor upkeep. She didn’t much react to the wet splotches hitting the ground as Andra made a wide berth of the glittery puddle.
By comparison, Merlin simply pulled a baggy hoodie over a minimalist chest rig and plate carrier combination before giving an uninterested last pass of his large backpack. Underneath two large, tightly-wrapped ponchos he also secured an overmodified MA5K carbine to the bag which he privately said, “I hope everyone mistakes it for camping gear.” Andra didn’t buy his disguise but whatever.
For Andra, visiting Furthest Point was a familiar affair but for the rest this was and would be a stranger experience. It was for her, and she expected at least a degree of culture shock. Maybe not for Merlin who was with Andra for a year traveling between small North American towns with similar appearances. However, for her fellow Deltas once of Team Anion – all they really knew was conflict and a peaceful beachside town was anything but that. It spoke to their realities as well it seemed, Andra and Merlin setup like tourists while Franklin and Shima set about fighting off an invasion force. The former pair might be the investigation unit and the latter pair the exfiltration unit, but the team lineup played to their unique strengths and their individual experiences. Where Merlin and Andra formerly of Team Boson still had friends alive in the galaxy somewhere, the survivors of Team Anion were there to watch their family die on battlefield in pools of blood.
Andra moved into her seat at the very back of the dropship next to the large troop bay door opposite of Merlin and gave him an acknowledging nod which he responded in kind.
“How long till we reach the spaceport?” Merlin asked out of curiosity.
Andra shrugged, “Three miles out from the beach, so two minutes. We’re taking a slower heading than Ryder did the first time, but he had pre-clearance from Tobias Lensky.”
“What’s this Lensky like?” Franklin remarked without looking up from his wrist.
“Smug with a superiority complex. And not without reason either. He seems super smart for an old man, like he always knows more than you even if you think you know everything. He makes you second guess yourself.”
“Just like Ryder,” Merlin grumbled.
Andra nodded in agreement. “Just like Ryder. Assholes tend to congregate together.”
Over the intercom, Callum reported in from the Q-corvette UNSC Ambrose’s Refuge flying under the name and appearance of a heavy freighter Buran. It was joined by an electronic warfare frigate deeper in the system providing signal camouflage for their operation.
“Andra, you know the settlement best. You have authority to lead ground operations as you see fit from here on.”
“Understood Lieutenant,” Andra acknowledged. “I hope you don’t mind we take the scenic route, do you?”
A voice also corvette-side sputtered in protest, Jacob, but Callum silenced his younger brother. Any protest went unsaid. Callum was with Merlin and Andra during Stray’s War whereas Jacob only saw her inexperienced self during their collaborations in the Imperium border conflict. She could manage herself now and she didn’t take any offense to their ad hoc unit’s deputy officer. Callum knew her and that was good enough.
“You’ve proven yourself, just don’t treat it like a cake walk.”
“Of course not,” Andra agreed, turning to Franklin who rose to his full, intimidating height at the glance. “Franklin’s up first. Is all your gear secured?”
The heavy weapons specialist nodded. “So what did you have in mind?”
“You’re going for a swim. Merlin says its not a fun experience but it’s doable.”
Merlin nodded in confirmation, briefly recalling a bad drop he took into an ocean on Oyster Point almost two years ago. “You’ll sink like a brick due to the armor weight no matter what. Your advantage is your armor’s mechanical strength and speed to pull. Spread yourself out along the seabed and use your feet and hands to crawl like a horizontal rock climber. Keep your body suspended free of the sand as much as possible. Once you’re in shallows, it becomes easier to just march through the sand if you keep moving.”
“I’m not going to complain but this seem annoyingly cumbersome.”
Andra shook her head. “Someone’s going to come along and inspect the Pelican. We want to lessen our presence in the area and the sea is the easiest way to hide your entrance. Shima will stay with the Pelican all the way to the tarmac and jump off when she gets a chance under active camouflage.”
“And you two?” Shima asked unconcerned, stepping up to stand next to Franklin who sheepishly scratched his neck along his armor’s Kevlar under suit.
Andra walked to the edge of the compartment and hit the button to lower the Pelican’s cargo ramp and opening the interior to the violent outside wind and pungent smell of unfiltered sea salt. Reaching through her wind blasted bush of brown hair, Andra pressed her throat microphone and contacted the cockpit.
“Drop very suddenly just above the ocean surface. Dip us for the last half mile to the beach and then pull back up. Tell the tower you’re going fishing; they’ll be annoyed but we shouldn’t draw any suspicion. Franklin will fallout at one hundred feet from shore. Merlin and I will land on the sand. Understood?”
“Understood, Spartan,” The pilot agreed in Andra’s earpiece.
A green light flickered onto Andra’s wraparound glasses, marking the drop sight for Franklin. The supersoldier behemoth pushed past Merlin and Andra who reached for side railings with a spontaneous collapse in their Pelican’s altitude.
“Falling out,” Franklin announced and hopped off the ramp’s rear with a mighty plume of white water over the beach’s second sandbank. His voice echoed over the radio onward. “I’ll be free in twenty minutes. You weren’t kidding about the sea muck.”
“It sticks fast,” Merlin yelled over the sound of the wind into his own throat microphone.
“Five seconds to your own drop. We’re cutting it close, Spartans.”
The second greenlight flashed below Andra and Merlin as they leaped with their arms outstretched to buy them whatever drag resistant they could muster and bent their legs as taught in parachute training.
The pair dropped and rolled into the sand, eating the brittle little crystals by the mouthful as they tumbled. There was dry sand caked into everything, and Andra reminded herself briefly why she didn’t like sand most days.
It was coarse, irritating, and got everywhere.
“I could use with less beaches in my life,” Merlin mumbled nearby.
“With your luck, I don’t blame you.” Andra agreed back. Criminals ambushed her lovable idiot on a couple beaches in his career while a Created Guardian stranded him on a beach for weeks another time.
“See you three in town,” Shima radioed from overhead as the Pelican jet wash screamed back into the sky.
Andra mumble a “likewise” through her sandy mouth, coming out garbled. For a moment she just wanted to lay there and not do anything as her thighs ached in tortured protest from her fast fall.
“Andra, get up.” Merlin groaned out as he started to sweep his backpack free of sand and debris. Always the injury prone, he seem ever the first back on his feet too. It would be an underestimation to say he had experience.
Andra moaned in annoyance but lifted her head from the sand, shaking her head mop as best she could. First thing she did was check her M7 submachine gun for sand exposure and was happy to find it clean under her zipped windbreaker. At least something worked well today.
“Did you come to Furthest Point with Ryder under this method too?” Merlin grumbled out in annoyed curiosity.
“No, we landed at the spaceport.”
“I think I would’ve preferred that to be honest.”
Franklin chimed in over the radio, “I’m with Showerhead there.”
“Both of you, taste sand.”
Merlin went undeterred. “And this is your scenic route?”
“Yes, Merlin. You’ll find out why soon enough. I bet you’ll love this place even.” Andra growled out in growing annoyance.
The complaining Spartans quieted themselves, continuing with their assignments as their silent judgment carried over Andra like a buzz of annoying flies. She could feel Merlin’s stink eye on her, but she was honest with her words and her feelings.
They might understand in time between the funny name of Aomachi’s main street and the oddity of watching a mix of herded cows and Slavic cattle drones escorted by dogs and fairy drones from one grazing field to the next. They would understand when they got a chance to see the Bouvet home star when it sunset over the Goldcrest Valley where fields of grain would glow like a golden ocean.
Andra visited awestriking and beautiful places before, but Furthest Point was to her an idyllic island among the stars. Lonely, peaceful, and familiar. Simple and timeless. Where the Created ruled the galaxy and politics carried bottomless complexity, she felt less lost here. Nostalgic for a time she couldn’t remember, but here she felt… At home.
Even sprawled out in the sand filled Andra with a strange, giddy energy. She felt young, rejuvenated. Free of guilt and expectation. She still had duty, but here it didn’t feel so unsurmountable. She could define herself here free from the noise of the universe. Here, so far away from war and subjugation.
She knew it was a lie, but so were dreams. Dreams weren’t evil – they gave people motivation to chase the fleeting and impossible. To reach for new heights. Dreamers achieved greatness and it was places like this that reminded her of humbling beginnings. Of her childhood suburbia on Sigma Octanus IV. Of the well-meant education of the Pax River cadet school. Of Merlin’s standing childhood home on a Ballast beach.
Her first time coming to Furthest Point carried a burdensome recollection of apprehension, altruism, and a foreboding sense of doom. Back then she came in a Condor freighter packed in a stuffy cargo hold with three dozen commandoes and a charismatic commanding officer, Ryder Kedar. Someone she looked on like a loving rose only to miss the thorns until it cut her late and deep.
Their first visit was a simple intelligence-gathering visit at what they saw as the end of the world. Andra and the commandoes believed they were going to make a difference thanks to a competent commander and reliable intelligence. But they paid the price of fiction and hubris. They died assaulting the largest space station in human history. Andra was the only, unlucky survivor.
Surviving the trap and the ordeal of Stray’s War that followed, she was forced to remake herself from the failure. She tried to kick and scream against it but she couldn’t stop the inevitable.
Accept reality wasn’t hers to dictate, shatter her worldview, abandon the simple morality which defined her service to the UNSC. She found commonalities with traitors, rebels, and aliens. The institutions she stood for lost to a forbidden history. Andra was forced to accept defeat, and humbled dearly for what little she had left.
The time was different for Andra with the passage of almost two years. Aomachi meant something different now, offering her freedom as she brought greater caution towards lies and liars. A greater awareness and sense for hyperreality that left her feeling liberated.
Andra wanted to believe she was better now.
She was back among friends and allies again. With her UNSC but now she understood better what she fought for. Returning to Aomachi reminded Andra there were people and places who enshrined the liberty and honesty she sought. People who wanted nothing more than happiness and contentment.
Andra found something here she genuinely wanted. And if she couldn’t have it, she at least wanted to protect it. Here she found a little piece of it.
“Merlin, come on. Up the hill. Let me show you the town of green and blue.”
Category:The Weekly
Category:Short stories