Fighting With Faith- Twelfth Entry
“Jobash! Jobash wait up!” Benlian hurried to the distancing figures of Jobash and the other males. His face was flushed and he was puffing hard. The idea of Jobash breaking the Sacred Code of the roles of the Great Families of the Asat System partially angered him. He was also partially excited. The thought of going off-world and fighting for the all mighty Emperor of the Imperium excited Benlian at all ends. It gave him a new way to exercise his faith; a new reason to live.
“Yeah? What?” Jobash answered with a tone of impatience to his voice. He stopped walking and turned around, followed by the other five boys. Benlian immediately reconised them. Brackton, a yot older then himself, stood attentively beside Jobash, with a look of curiosity etched into his fair, stubby nosed jet black hair features. He was of the Holmet family, a minor family, formed by early immigrants from neighbouring systems of the Asat system. He was not held back by the Sacred Code, as were all minor family offsprings. Standing behind Brackton, at least a head taller then everyone else, was the well-known “Lanky-Flanky”, Flank, of the Zoltion Great Family. He also had the same grim face that Jobash wore and further persuasion would be futile. The remaining three males were Stratile of the Noglium minor family, Arthlep of the Teoliup Great Family and Zeralton of the Silkim Great Family.
Benlian stopped dead in his tracks; that look on Jobash’s face…Living with Jobash for the past fifteen yots had not failed Benlain this time. Jobash already wore his impassive, impervious face. In other words: follow me or get out of my face.
Benlian dreaded the dilemma he was about to be confronted with. He garnered his courage and voiced, “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Tick tock Ben, tick tock. Where do you think we’re going?” Zeralton answered with a mocking tone to his voice.
Benlian was prepared for such an answer.
“Do you not realise the Sac-”
“Damn it, Ben! Damn it all to the Emperor’s bloody throne and back! We have had enough of living on this rock! Even the notice by Sector Command encourages us all to do so, so why not?!” his voice was blasphemous. His tone was wrong. But he was right. Benlian agreed wholeheartedly with Zeralton’s reasoning and feelings. There was no other calling for it. The calling was strong, powerful like a black hole consuming all matter, including light into its never ending abyss.
“Yes…I….yes indeed you are right.” Benlian stammered in reply. Zeralton’s reply was too great; too truthful. If the defence on the Emperor most blesseth Asat System were to be effected, it is down to these six young males, along with a billion more other strong and healthy youths in the prime of their growth and thinking within the Asat system. Passion burnt deep within them; the desire to rid the universe of all Xenos spawns.
“What are you waiting for people? Registration ends in five minutes time! It isn’t our fault that the notice arrived two days late! Damn freight transports were attacked by marauding pirates.” chirped Stratile irritatingly amongst the quintuple.
They snapped out of their debate as quickly as it was started. The five of them continued their way up the gentle slope towards the Heavily Gothic constructed Administratum building, leaving Benlian dazed and shock. What they were doing is to be unfillial to their families and traditional. It was a sin; and the punishment was death.
Yet on the other hand, it was right to serve the Emperor, to eradicate enemies from within, without and beyond. Nothing more could be achieved other then on the battlefields of the Fourty-first millennium, under the Emperor’s guiding hand, smiting and crushing the foul foes of aliens, traitors, warp spawns and heretics.
With his heart and mind set, Benlian walked on, after his group of friends he had known since young, never turning back to the fading construction of the harvesting fields, communal board and family grounds…
“Jobash! Jobash wait up!” Benlian hurried to the distancing figures of Jobash and the other males. His face was flushed and he was puffing hard. The idea of Jobash breaking the Sacred Code of the roles of the Great Families of the Asat System partially angered him. He was also partially excited. The thought of going off-world and fighting for the all mighty Emperor of the Imperium excited Benlian at all ends. It gave him a new way to exercise his faith; a new reason to live.
“Yeah? What?” Jobash answered with a tone of impatience to his voice. He stopped walking and turned around, followed by the other five boys. Benlian immediately reconised them. Brackton, a yot older then himself, stood attentively beside Jobash, with a look of curiosity etched into his fair, stubby nosed jet black hair features. He was of the Holmet family, a minor family, formed by early immigrants from neighbouring systems of the Asat system. He was not held back by the Sacred Code, as were all minor family offsprings. Standing behind Brackton, at least a head taller then everyone else, was the well-known “Lanky-Flanky”, Flank, of the Zoltion Great Family. He also had the same grim face that Jobash wore and further persuasion would be futile. The remaining three males were Stratile of the Noglium minor family, Arthlep of the Teoliup Great Family and Zeralton of the Silkim Great Family.
Benlian stopped dead in his tracks; that look on Jobash’s face…Living with Jobash for the past fifteen yots had not failed Benlain this time. Jobash already wore his impassive, impervious face. In other words: follow me or get out of my face.
Benlian dreaded the dilemma he was about to be confronted with. He garnered his courage and voiced, “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Tick tock Ben, tick tock. Where do you think we’re going?” Zeralton answered with a mocking tone to his voice.
Benlian was prepared for such an answer.
“Do you not realise the Sac-”
“Damn it, Ben! Damn it all to the Emperor’s bloody throne and back! We have had enough of living on this rock! Even the notice by Sector Command encourages us all to do so, so why not?!” his voice was blasphemous. His tone was wrong. But he was right. Benlian agreed wholeheartedly with Zeralton’s reasoning and feelings. There was no other calling for it. The calling was strong, powerful like a black hole consuming all matter, including light into its never ending abyss.
“Yes…I….yes indeed you are right.” Benlian stammered in reply. Zeralton’s reply was too great; too truthful. If the defence on the Emperor most blesseth Asat System were to be effected, it is down to these six young males, along with a billion more other strong and healthy youths in the prime of their growth and thinking within the Asat system. Passion burnt deep within them; the desire to rid the universe of all Xenos spawns.
“What are you waiting for people? Registration ends in five minutes time! It isn’t our fault that the notice arrived two days late! Damn freight transports were attacked by marauding pirates.” chirped Stratile irritatingly amongst the quintuple.
They snapped out of their debate as quickly as it was started. The five of them continued their way up the gentle slope towards the Heavily Gothic constructed Administratum building, leaving Benlian dazed and shock. What they were doing is to be unfillial to their families and traditional. It was a sin; and the punishment was death.
Yet on the other hand, it was right to serve the Emperor, to eradicate enemies from within, without and beyond. Nothing more could be achieved other then on the battlefields of the Fourty-first millennium, under the Emperor’s guiding hand, smiting and crushing the foul foes of aliens, traitors, warp spawns and heretics.
With his heart and mind set, Benlian walked on, after his group of friends he had known since young, never turning back to the fading construction of the harvesting fields, communal board and family grounds…
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