Sage Advice

“Hey,” said a man’s voice. I looked to see where it came from, and found an ODST with his helmet on, reading Fate’s Betrayal by Alana West, a political thriller space opera that came out last year. I walked towards him, his BR77 laying atop the crate beside him. “You’re the new guy, right?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m Leo Estrada. Uh, sir.”
“Duggan’s the name,” he said. He turned a page in the book. “Martin Duggan.”
“I take it you’ve been an ODST for a while now, sir?”
“Nope,” he shook his head. “And you don’t have to call me ‘sir.’ I think that’s a bit weird.”
“Oh, okay.”
“No, it’s alright. Anyway, I got in just six months ago. I used to be the green one in the company, but now that you and a whole batch of newbies came in, I can rest my weary head. No longer will I be stuck on the night watch or be the one to lug around the rockets and ammo.”
“What happened?” I asked.
Martin lowered the book, and he appeared to just blank out momentarily. Then, he suddenly shook his head and turned to me. “What do you mean?” said he.
“I mean, I’ve seen it before: a whole squad or something gets wiped off the map, then they bring in a batch of replacements to fill in the gaps, make the numbers line up.”
Martin didn’t speak for a long time. He seemed to not even look at the pages on the book, and just stared out into space, his vision eventually lining up with a bunch of crates on the other side of the hangar.
“Sir, how many guys did you lose?”
“We lost a few,” Martin suddenly responded in a lowered, yet rushed tone. “Lost a few on Rebirth. Took a bad beating there.”
“And I’m replacing someone you knew?”
“No. You’re replacing multiple people I knew. You and your guys.”
I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want to offend him, and I certainly didn’t want to make him an enemy. I shuffled nervously as I stood in front of him and he just stared at me. I couldn’t see his face on account of the helmet, but I could just tell that he was getting annoyed with me. At least annoyed, perhaps some anger was starting to well up too, so I thought this was a very good time to just back off.
“Right. Well… I’m gonna have to check in with my squad leader. Uh… I’ll see you around.”
“Wait, wait…” said Martin, putting his book aside. “Just don’t get yourself killed, buddy. I haven’t gotten used to seeing replacements yet and I don’t want to see another new batch walk aboard ship.”
“I understand,” I answered. “Don’t get shot.”
“And don’t make stupid decisions,” added Martin. “FNGs who think they’re hot shit because they’re a Helljumper now get plasma to the face the second they walk out of their pods.”
“I got it, don’t get cocky.”
“Don’t get cocky.”
We both nodded at each other. “Any more sage advice, Martin?”
“Yeah, uh…” He sucked some air through his teeth as he corrected his posture on the crate. “Hmm. Um… Ah, right! What about this?” Then, he leaned forward. ‘Desire is the root of all suffering.’”
I stood there for a few seconds processing that statement. I felt like I had heard it before but couldn’t quite place it. Then, the memories rushed back to my mind. “Is that a Buddhist thing?’
“Yes it is, and as soon as you work towards breaking Samsara and achieving enlightenment, you’ll always be suffering.” He said that in a somewhat sarcastic tone. We shared a chuckle.
“Do you believe in that?”
Martin fell quiet for a moment as he reached back for his book. “I believe in something.”
“Too private?”
“Too private.”
“I understand.”
“Anyway, you said you need to head to your SL? You should get on that.”
“Right, right. Well… I’ll see you around?”
“Oh, no doubt. No doubt.”
I smiled and nodded my head once. He reciprocated the gesture. Then, I walked away, unclear as to whether I made a friend or not.
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