“Death builds character, PFC. Enjoy it.”

 

“Staff Sergeant, that’s not what I’m worried about.”

 

The ramp of the battle albatross closed and drowned their conversation with six thruster engines. The platoon of Marines and Support Androids swayed together as they banked into the night.

 

“Stop worrying. You’re backed up, remember? Focus on the mission,” said the android Staff Sergeant.

 

The PFC’s eyes bulged white as his answer blurted out over the thundering thrusters.

 

“But it’s… It’s my first time.”

 

The entire bay cackled with whistles and jeers from all of the Marines strapped into the steel benches. The Corporal sitting next to the PFC groaned.

 

“You freakin’ boot,” said the Corporal, “hope you eat a half dozen rail slugs on the first breach.”

 

The PFC shuddered.

 

“I remember my first time dying,” said the Staff Sergeant. “Took a claymore trip mine right to the stomach. When they wake you up, you still have the rush. It’s great.”

 

The PFC shook his head, rattling his Kevlar helmet around his squishy, shaved head.

 

“But what if it doesn’t work?”

 

“Of course it works. How many briefings have we had on this? Were you paying attention?”

 

”Yes, Staff Sergeant. But…”

 

The windowless bay filled with red light. The platoon instinctively racked their rail rifles to condition one and checked their equipment.

 

“But what?” asked Staff Sergeant.

 

“I dunno. It just doesn’t feel right.”

 

The high-pitched whirl of the thrusters corresponded with the light changing from red to green. The Staff Sergeant barked orders as the transport ship maneuvered into landing. The ramp opened, welcoming them with harsh purple dust.

 

The platoon ran out in two lines into the night toward the ruins of the city outpost.

 

Staff Sergeant created a direct comm link to the PFC as they ran.

 

“If you mention what I’m about to tell you to anyone, I’m going to rip your spine out and beat you to death with it for fun. You understand?”

 

”Aye aye, Staff Sergeant.”

 

”You’re right about what you feel.”

 

The dumbfounding admission made the PFC trip over a root in the field. The Corporal behind him grabbed him by the flak jacket to steady him. Then the PFC felt a smack on the back of his helmet. He double-timed it to keep formation.

 

“It’s natural for me to be turned off and on,” continued the Staff Sergeant. “Backups have existed for a long time for us, but not for you. Death is supposed to be final for humans. But now it's not. So I understand why that can feel weird.”

 

The platoon approached the city ruins and slowed its pace. The PFC brought his weapon to the ready and scanned ahead on the dark street.

 

“But you have something in common with every combatant in your history,” said the Staff Sergeant.

 

“We die really easily?” said the PFC.

 

”That. You also all smell terrible. And it's your purpose, as a combatant, to accept death as part of your job.”

 

The Staff Sergeant signaled toward a looming building with a steel door. Three squads split off to take different entrances. The PFC fell into a single file behind the Staff Sergeant as they moved along the bullet-ridden wall.

 

The Staff Sergeant and the PFC positioned themselves on opposite sides of the door. They connected eyes as they heard the muffled shouts of the rebels within.

 

“What’s different now is that you’re the lucky one. You get to come back and do it again,” said the Staff Sergeant.

 

“But it feels different for me than for you.”

 

“Right. I don’t have fear. You do.”

 

“I’m… I'm afraid to die.”

 

“Well, with back-ups, you don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

 

The door-breaching ram was passed up to the staff sergeant. He readied it for smashing. The PFC raised his rifle and circled his finger around the trigger.

 

”Remember, PFC. Death is no longer final. So try and enjoy it.”

 

The PFC hesitated, and the Corporal reached for him to pull him back. But the PFC resisted.

 

“No, Corporal. I’m going in first,” said the PFC.

 

The battering ram broke the door open in a single swing, then the PFC ran in.

 

And had his first experience.