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Terminal This fanfiction article, Life on the Outside (TPF), was written by ThePeteFiles. Please do not edit this fiction without the writer's permission.

Oriana was always under assumption you never left the UNSC as a SPARTAN, it was a contract till death. Everything pointed to that being the truth given all her colleagues were either MISSING IN ACTION or KILLED IN ACTION throughout the Human-Covenant War. Her mental deterioration at the end of the war allowed for her to step away from the lifestyle she signed up for as a child.

Instead of polishing a firearm and reading up Significant Activity reports about the Covenant, Oriana found herself with a lot of free time to dwell on her past decisions. Clayton filled her time up with chores and other activities to keep her away from dwelling too much, he enjoyed having someone with SPARTAN strength around the family property.

But Oriana didn’t entirely leave the UNSC, she was put on the Medical Reserve List by the Office of Naval Intelligence. A fancy title for saying they still owned her and could call her up for action once she became mentally fit. Regardless of what title she was placed under, Oriana enjoyed the life of a civilian even with all the dread she felt.

The people in the community were acceptive to Oriana and initially curious. How did a big woman from an Outer Colony find her way to a small town in the United Republic of North America? Clayton always deflected those questions to ease the fear of Oriana being exposed as a SPARTAN, she wanted to maintain her covert identity to her best efforts.

For Oriana, the freedom to do what she wanted came with great perks and great consequences. Walks in the woods with Clayton proved to be therapeutic to helping her cope with the traumatic events she endured. At the same time, she struggled in the woods since she had hallucinations of seeing Covenant soldiers moving on her position. It was evident to see Oriana’s past was affecting her more than she wanted to admit.

Physically, she was free from the world of being a SPARTAN, the MJOLNIR armor didn’t sit in her room, and she wasn’t moving from planet to planet. She had her own room, own schedule, and even her own bed. Oriana learned to decorate her own room with things from her past, ranging from historical artifacts of the Sparta city-state to her personal achievements in the community.

Oriana found herself chained to the ground with the memories of her dead comrades, the PTSD episodes, night terrors, and hallucinations she experienced. There was no freedom to when her mind wanted her to remember those. Certain simulations triggered the ‘SPARTAN Oriana’ and caused her to react to situations in a far more military fashion than she needed. Her ability to control and contain such actions proved she had no freedom over her emotional being.

Clayton couldn’t sleep with Oriana often; he’d have to wake up halfway through the night to get away from her. Night terrors often left her screaming and crying for whatever hell of a situation her mind drummed up. He also became her emergency help line for anything between cooking a meal to asking for direction from a stranger. No matter how bad days and how bad the mental breakdown became, Clayton knew Oriana was going to get better.

“What do you want to do today?”

Oriana stared at Clayton for a bit as she drummed her fingers on the table. It was an innocent question with a thousand ways to answer.

She looked out the window to see the sun shining and smiled to herself.

“Let’s go split some wood.”

Hearing Clayton groan, Oriana’s smile broadened. He sat down across from her with a coffee and sipped it while studying her.

“Are you sure we should do that? You can knock out an entire tree in the time it takes for me to one section.”

“Not all day. I been thinking about that idea you told me, the university one. The one program you showed me from Stanford was interesting.”

“The Management Science and Engineering one?”

“Yeah, it sounded like something in my wheelhouse of skillsets.”

He only laughed when hearing her saying her skillsets. Oriana knew how to learn anything she put her mind to.

“It’s your decision O. The UNSC would cover the cost for you so that’s no problem.”

The realization it was her decision reinforced the complexity of freedom. Oriana enjoyed being away from the UNSC, but it also gave her too many decisions to make. What time should she wake up at? How do I structure my day? It seemed attending Stanford could help answer those questions for her.

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