(Here’s the beginning of the interview Andrews has with Sarge, so she can share what the Reds and Blues have been up to with the universe)
“Well, I’m not sure where you want to start-”
“I WAS BORN 29 YEARS AGO, I CAME INTO THIS WORLD WEARING RED ARMOR, AND I’LL GO OUT OF THIS WORLD WEARING RED ARMOR!”
“Now, now…” Andrews said, her voice both amused and patient. “I won’t be exposing any secrets you want to keep, you’ll have the final word on what information I share publicly, but between the two of us? Let’s try to keep things simple, and honest. After all, we ARE on a first-name basis!”
The old soldier was quiet a moment. A short moment, but for Sarge, being quiet was about as rare as hen’s teeth.
“Fair enough, Dylan…” he answered at last. “But the name is one of the things we keep quiet about, understand?”
“Absolutely… can I ask one question, though? Just for my own curiosity,” her curiosity often got the best of her, and certainly created problems occasionally… but that was why she was a reporter. Curiosity might have killed the cat, but satisfaction is what kept bringing her back.
“I’ve never heard a name like yours before. Just what was the inspiration when it was chosen for you?”
Another quiet moment. Andrews was beginning to think he was simply going to ignore the question, and if that was the case, she would move on rather than press the subject. However-
“When I was born, which was MORE than 29 years ago, I ADMIT IT… m’family didn’t name me right away. Not too many infants survived their first few weeks back then… it was a different world back then, see- you’re too young, you never lived in a war-zone, but that’s what it was like. So, they waited to see if… well, you know how you’re not supposed to name anything, or else you’ll get attached? ‘Folks were worried about getting attached to ME, because maybe I wasn’t even gonna live too long… but a few weeks went by, then a couple months, and I was still breathin’!” he chuckled a bit to himself before continuing.
“I guess I was the only baby that made it, and the group of survivors my family stayed with- they all supported each other. A whole bunch of people took turns watching over this little bundle of joy! Everybody had a different name they liked to call me, and when it was time to give me a REAL name… it all got combined together. One big name, from more than a dozen different people, who all came from different places, and spoke different languages… I was the only baby any of them had, so I suppose they gave me all the names of… their kids who weren’t with them…”
“That’s… oh, Sarge, I don’t know what to say, that’s INCREDIBLE… it might be the sweetest thing’ I’ve ever heard-” it was true, Andrews didn’t know what it was like to be born directly into a war-zone; and at the time the man sitting in front of her was a child, the Earth had been under attack by enemies from outer space… not to mention all the never-ending fights between humans who decided they hated other humans enough to kill each other. No, she hadn’t lived through that, but she had seen documents and footage.
Many towns and cities were destroyed, and groups of people would try to band together; they formed new little communities, some traveling like nomads, others attempting to stay out in one place, but all generally learning to rely on one another for safety and survival. Generations of children were lost during this time… from injury, illness, or lack of food. To think that she was now speaking to somebody who had grown up in that world, protected and nurtured by an extended-family of people who had been brought together by necessity, but stayed together by choice. That choice had, in fact, been to make sure a child could LIVE.
“I know, I know! Tragic and heart-warming… it’s practically Oscar-bait! But remember what we agreed on, not a word to anybody else! Bad enough that whipper-snapper apple-Jax knows…” he grumbled.
“Yes, I understand…” she couldn’t help but get a little choked-up, though.
“And, for the record- I mean, this is OFF the record, make sure to keep it that way! But just so YOU know, I’m not a bit embarrassed about my name! That’s not why I don’t wanna share it… it’s just…” Sarge seemed to struggle to find the words. “The people who named me are gone. All of them. And this wasn’t just my name, it was the name they gave me… someday, I’m probably going to die on a battlefield, being taken out by an enemy, and God-willing, I’ll be wearing my RED ARMOR- but when that happens, whoever kills me… I don’t wanna hear them saying that name. It was good name that good people gave me, so… so…”
“… you don’t want somebody who hates you to use the name that was made by people who loved you,” Andrews finished.
“Hurrrgh- if you WANT to read into it like that and add lots of mushy, emotional subtext, sure!” Sarge made several grunts and groans, crossing his arms across his chest and turning his helmet away to avoid looking at her.
“You are a surprisingly deep and sensitive individual, Sarge…” Andrews marveled.
“NO I AIN’T! YOU TAKE THAT BACK RIGHT NOW! I AM A ONE-DIMENSIONAL CHARACTER, A FLAT STEREO-TYPE OF ALL GRUFF MILITARY MEN, AND DON’T YOU FORGET IT!”
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