To The Future

By Tegan Elliott

It felt odd, looking out at the academy grounds and knowing that, in only a week, all of it would be in the past. Graduation. Such a small word and four syllables are meant to convey a door opening to an entire future, and your entire future is held between the palms of one small, simple word. You knew what was beyond that threshold already; everything had been laid out for you by Command, but it was still weird. Twenty-something standard years old, practically born and raised on these grounds, and just on the other side of its fences . . . "Hey. You okay?" You hummed. Your best friend came to lean on the railing beside you, looking out at the world with you. "Feels weird, I guess," you said. "Knowing I'm walking away from this." "You're not excited? "No, of course I am. It's just — we grew up here, y'know? The academy was pretty much our whole lives, I mean, I dedicated every ounce of myself to it and now I'm just supposed to leave? I don't know anything else." "It's not like you'll be going far," they said. "You'll still be under Command. It's just that you'll be on some research base or moon outpost instead of being here. It can't be that different." "I dunno. Maybe it won't be. But even if it isn't, I'm not sure I'm ready for that kind of change," you admitted. Everything had been the same; studying, researching, late nights, and drills, and you weren't sure you knew how to do anything else. "Any kind of change, maybe. For years, we do the same things over and over every single day, for it to end so suddenly, it's. . . " "Weird?" "Yeah." "Well, I can tell you for sure that not everything will change," they said, smiling. "You'll still have me." You laughed, "I couldn't get rid of you if I tried." "You'd never. You like me too much." That you did. If they were so sure about this, you thought that maybe it wouldn't be so bad if some things changed.