Fighting With Faith- fourteenth Entry

“E-T-A two minutes and five seconds to takeoff. Standby for requisition to takeoff.”

“Affirmative Bird One. You are clear for lockoff in three…two…one- lockoff complete.”

The transport freighter shuddered slightly as its restraining harness attaching its exterior Ceranium hull to the interior of the vast commercial converted militarised departure bay walls unlocked its mechanisms of cables and pipes off the freighter. Hisses of high velocity air diffused out into space and depressurising compartments on the various portholes built into the freighter’s hull resounded off the interior of the ship, causing its passengers to cast wary glances around them. This was their first time in a spaceship, and it could even be guessed from the look of their faces.

Benlian sat stiff and rigid in his seat, harness and belts strapped tightly over his chest and thighs. It wasn’t supposed to be tight; the boarding briefing already indicated clearly that one’s index finger and thumb should be able to slip comfortably through the gap between one’s body and the harnesses. Benlian wasn’t taking any chances. The air coolant vents blowing directly towards him from above wasn’t helping the situation either, he felt cold, almost numb; one couldn’t blame him and his fellow friends for not being in a ship before.

Across the freighter, safely strapped into his seat, Stratile didn’t look any better. His face had taken on a wan hue; which Benlian didn’t realise was almost identical to his own. Their eyes met and both gave a reassuring smile to each other. The constant humming and vibration of the freighter’s engine beneath them was getting louder by the second. It was unnerving.

“Passengers, ready for takeoff. Advised to recheck safety straps and harnesses. Please close all bulkheads and keep your posture straight and head up.” A booming metallic voice, with a bit of static in the lower decibels of its narration sounded out of both black vox-boxes situated at the far end of the cockpit side of the freighter.

Zeralton, seated two seats to Benlian’s right, gave a whoop as the freighter gave a violent lurch forward, along with the passengers’ stomachs. The queer and awkward feeling of his body beginning to float off his seat came into him. Wait, Benlian thought, I am floating!

Feeling curious, Benlian turned his head to his right to look out of a conveniently placed porthole. What he saw would remain in his memory forever.

Against the stark blackness of space were ships. Hundreds, thousands, all of which were disembarking from their various piston clamps and hydraulic portholes, releasing depressurising air and vapour into the surroundings in bright white jets of gas, their grey hulls reflecting bright sun rays off itself. In them, Benlian mused, were probably twenty almost identical feeling recruits as those in his own freighter, along with himself, all shaved down to their skinheads, strapped tightly into their seats with hearts in their mouths.

So this is space…wow…Benlian gazed in wonder at the hugeness of it and the enormous amount of planets and energy it contains. Wow-

A violent and gut wrenching drop suddenly overcame the freighter and Benlian was immediately thrown out of his reverie.

“Bloody H-” Jobash managed to utter beside Benlian before the freighter did another extreme altitude maneuver in space. This time however, the freighter was boosted upwards. Benlian felt dizzy for a slight moment as the blood in his body rushed down into his legs.

“Takeoff to cruising juncture acquired. Passengers may now feel free to be mobile within the freighter’s quarters. E-T-A to destination, Pholorine Recruit Camp in seventy-two hours and three minutes. Refreshments are situated in the aft of the passengers’ quarters.” The robotic, monotonous voice boomed out of the vox-boxes again.

Metallic clicking begin to sound around the passengers’ quarter as the wide-eye recruits began to unfasten their harnesses to stand up to stretch and yawn cumbersomely. Benlian unfastened his own and stood up. He walked over to the front of the quarters, where a main viewport was located. Most of the recruits had already begun walking to the back, where food was.

Benlian was mesmerised. What he saw defied belief. Space, in its entire splendor, stood in its mighty silence in front of him. To his right, Benlian could see, for the first time in space, the Frazium Sphere where he collected its debris in the harvesting fields on his homewolrd. Never did he imagine it to be more beautiful. Harsh sun rays deflected off the Frazium fragments, infiltrating into his eyes to appear has wild, multi-coloured rocks dancing around within its imaginary sphere. Occasionally, the rabid mixture of Frazium framents clashed, emitting incandescent untamed sparks of pure white light. When the dust settled, Benlian could see smaller, rounder fragments drifting away from the sphere, soon to be attracted by the gravity wells in orbit around his planet and the various other resivovice planets.

A warm and firm hand clasped over his right shoulder. Benlian turnd to see the warm and friendly face of Jobash, and the rest of his friends. All seven of them stood in silence facing the viewport, marveling the wondrous scene in front of them. Indescribable feelings overcoming them. Shock and awe was all that they were.

Deep-rooted, they stood, eyes peeled at the viewport, never wavering.

The transport freighter still journeyed on through space, among thousands of others similar freighters, towards its destination where the soon-to-be warriors of the Emperor would be rigorously trained and conditioned to fight the approaching alien swarm.