Chapter Text
November 13, 2531
Classified, near New Alexandria, Reach, Epsilon Eridani System
“…MIA.”
Annya couldn’t believe what she had just read. Her eyes read the line again, and again, and about a dozen more times. The pounding in her head and chest began to grow with every repeat. From a constant drum to a whole band of them, deafening her ears. The words seemed to make the world around her shrink to a pinpoint.
Kurt-051: MIA.
None of her fellow Spartan-IIs had bothered to visit, to deliver the news themselves. Oh no, her and her fellow washouts had to learn about the loss of their companions from reports. Musa-096, her roommate, had explained to her that their companions were likely too busy with back to back battles and assignments to visit them. Yet, as she would often reiterate, Jorge-052, her fellow Green Team member, had visited three times in the last four years. She’d heard Kurt-051 accompanied the first two visits. When she was comatose from failed corrective surgeries, but they had visited, she argued. She remembered the snacks and the potted plant they left. It still grew in a pot beside her nightstand. The last of its blossoms had just fallen a few days ago.
The same time Kurt went missing.
A sign, her mind concluded.
As her vision seemed to diminish, everything came back. And it all seemed…slower. Her gaze turned to Musa, who as looking at her. He was saying something, but whatever he was saying seemed muffled. But the upturned stitching of his eyebrows, his outstretched hand from his own medical bed, seemed to indicate he knew what she did, too. Maybe he was saying something to comfort his roommate. For what felt like minutes, her perfect vision clouded. A blink cleared it. Something warm and wet streaked down her cheeks. Was it blood? It couldn’t be sweat.
Musa saw Annyastasia-015’s look of horror. He’d just read the latest report, and the same casualty list. And he knew just how close she was to the only name on that list. All his fellow washouts knew. Likely the rest of the Spartans, too. It was no secret some Spartans had closer bonds than others. And Annya was always Kurt’s shadow, the eyes in the back of his head. Jorge was the brawn, Annya the brains, and Kurt the head, of Spartan Green Team back during training.
“Annya” Musa called out to her. He reached for her, but couldn’t get up to sit with her. He would likely never walk again, the doctors had told him. And they had performed test and exploratory surgeries, and continued to do such until they were certain. Which meant he, like his roommate, were both confined to either wheelchair or their medical beds.
Or so he thought.
Musa watched as Annyastasia, tears streaming down her face like a monsoon, sit up. He could see all the IV lines, wires, and the seeming torture device implanted in her spine as she moved. Time seemed to slow as he watched her sit up, spin around, and stand out of her bed.
Annya felt something in her heart crack. It felt like getting shot, crushed by a tank, and shocked with a live wire all at once. Her vision kept blurring and clearing with every blink. Without a second thought, she sat up from her lower angle bed, spun around to the edge of the bed, and stood up. Live wires shocked her from her toes up to her neck. She almost crumpled to the ground if one thing hadn’t been going through her mind.
Kurt.
The other washouts teased her that she was obsessed. But none of the other Spartans understood her. He and Jorge were the only ones who ever did.
He’s hurt. I need to help him.
She felt needles pull from her back and arms. Pain was minimal at best. The first step felt like glass and electricity running through her back and legs. Her fingers felt cold, yet full of the same charge that ran through her spine. One step, then another, then another, as she crossed from her part of the room and stepped before Musa’s bed.
Musa could see blood staining Annya’s gown as she crossed in front of his bed. He wished in that moment that Jerome, Douglas, and Alice were still there. But they had been cleared to return to combat years ago. Douglas would likely be a great balm at the moment so the orderlies could subdue the emotional being before him.
“Annya! Stop! Where are you going?”
No answer. He saw her mouth moving, silent words to herself. His hand found the remote connected to his bed and pressed for the nurse. It would be up to those in charge of the facility to stop her. He hoped they would be enough. Or have enough tranquilizers to stop her.
Annyastasia crossed the threshold of their room. Her feet began to carry her quicker. Walls and floors and ceilings around her were white the grey. There were no windows here, just doors leading to rooms. Some empty, some not. A nurse approached the bounding washout.
“015, what are you doing?! Stop!” She grabbed the woman’s arm as Annya continued down the hall. Annya shook her arm free and sent the poor woman sprawling unto the floor. The nurse grabbed a small tablet from her pocket and hit a few buttons. A red light began to flash in the hall as a quiet alarm blared overhead.
“Stop! 015, stop at once! That’s an order!”
Find him. Save him.
Annya had seen and felt the woman in her slowed vision. And she had quickly removed the hinderance with the wave of an arm. Though it did cause her pain to shook through her body, it was dwarfed by the bolts going through her legs.
One step, then another, then another.
An open door led to another fellow washout peering from their own bed. Not knowing the situation, they cheered on another washout taking their first steps alone. That is, until the alarms began to go off above them. The cheering stopped as Annya began to pick up speed.
Now coming across one of the lounges on this floor, Serin-019 sat in a plush green-brown chair reading the screen of a tablet. She stopped when the alarms began to go off above her. Her gaze rose just in time to see Annyastasia begin to pick up speed.
Odd, thought Serin, I thought she was bedbound. Attempting a jailbreak?
Serin didn’t get up. She could tell from the look on her fellow washout’s face that something was wrong. And she knew damned well not to get in Annya’s way. She didn’t know if the other woman had any weapons on her or not. Plus, that was the job for the guards and orderlies. Serin wasn’t going to compromise her recovery to calm down the one person she thought would’ve died during augmentations.
As if summoning them with her mind, Serin witnessed two orderlies approach. She saw one carrying a stun baton, the other a needle with likely a tranquilizer in it.
Big mistake, Serin thought to herself. She shifted a little to watch the drama unfold.
“015, return to your quarters immediately” one of the orderlies commanded. “Stand down. Your therapist is on the way.”
Annya didn’t say anything. She saw the stun baton, and was at once transported back to her training. To the adults with the same tools in their hands. To the impacts, the shocks, their hands. Grabbing, pushing, shoving, pulling.
They both approached at once. The orderly with the baton went to try shocking the washout, only to lose the baton in a vice grip. Annya grabbed his hand and squeezed with strength unknown to her before. The sound of bones crunching, a cry of pain, and more orders being barked at her didn’t even cross her mind. She took the baton in her hand and swung at the other orderly with all her might. The baton never activated, the mechanism busted with her grasp, but made contact with the other orderly’s temple. A solid crunch made Serin wince as she watched the orderly with the needle drop to the ground. That was a kill blow, and she knew it. Her eyes widened as Annya hit the other orderly twice in the head, likely killing if not making the man brain dead. She felt her heart jump up her throat as Annya’s gaze blinked and turned to her.
Serin had nothing to protect herself. And the two women held a grudge for one another that had never seemed to fully dissipate. She could use the tablet in her hands in need be….
Annya moved as if getting ready to sprint right at Serin. Serin got up quickly as guards rounded the nurse station with guns raised. They ordered Annya to stop, much like the orderlies. Serin knew it was hopeless. She moved around the chair to make a break for it, and to get out of the line of fire in case the guards were to start shooting.
Find him. Find him. FIND. HIM. FIND HIM. THEY STOLE HIM FROM ME. I WILL FIND HIM.
Annya broke into a sprint. She faced floor to ceiling windows that faced the wilderness of Reach. Her mind was hazy of calculating risk, assessing the likelihood of death or injury. It was move first, think later.
FIND HIM FIND HIM FIND HIM FIND HIM FIND HIM-
The chorus of voices screaming in her head deafened her ears. The sound of Annya screaming made the guards hesitate. They watched as Annyastasia sprinted to the windows. Watched as she hit them shoulder first.
Glass exploded around her. Her shoulder seemed to explode with electricity that ran through her body. But it was already an active current that was added to the rest.
For what seemed like forever, Annya floated. She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around her head before impact. Moments felt like hours as she fell ten meters to the earth below.