Fighting With Faith- Nineteenth Entry

Can’t…go on...

Benlian’s mind was being agonised. Tortured. Pain. Hours had long pass since their departure from the spaceport. Their contingent of moaning, perspiring adolescent males had since long forgotten the cause of their march. They were like zombies; oblivious to the graying skies overhead, the low droning of the winds being occasionally punctuated by a shrill screech of the various flying animals that lived on the moon. Near empty ration bottles and cans clattered audibly over the intermittent marching of dust and dirt collected boots.

Benlian looked up, trying in vain to seek out the horizon. How long more…

A recruit, two rows ahead of Benlian’s squad, uttered a pathetic cry before falling onto the soil, limbs sprawled wide apart. He was weeping, out of fatigue and embarrassment. His mates around him paused for a moment in their trance like state and immediately reached down to pull the fallen recruit back up, muttering assuring phrases and litanies.

They were bonding.

Benlian eyed the commotion for a moment before looking down his own row. His glance caught Arthelp’s and they hastily gave a thumbs-up sign, smiling assuringly.

Suddenly, from somewhere among the front rows of the contingent, came an uproar of shouts and whoops. Whispers and bellows were passed down the columns, every recruit’s face lighting up upon hearing the news.

“Yes! The compound is sighted! About damn time!” an exuberant Lent Broxton of Benlian’s squad exclaimed, barely able to contain his excitement. Smiles, cheers and whoops were all the reason for.

Benlian tiptoed, there it was! Huge, towering grey coated minarets soaring up like giant edifices out of a huge broad back of what Benlian presumed was the main compound. Near the tip of the towers, were beacons with lights flashing and blinking, guiding ships of which mainly were cargo transports into the various port holds. Other smaller, but still huge colossal buildings were erected around the main compound, dotting the landscape with firing ranges, obstacle courses and mass halls. Against the backdrop of the dull yellow sky, the grey buildings seemed camouflaged against the sky, as though trying to hide from the view of it’s soon to be inhabitants.

“What are you all waiting for?! RUN!” Came a shout from somewhere in front.

“WOOHOOOOO!” Benlian whooped and rushed head on, along with the whole contingent, towards the nearing mass of the training compound.

Stratile stumbled and fell clumsily. Everyone laughed along, casually pulling him and his equipment up. Zeralton cheekily slapped Stratile on the butt, causing Stratile to utter an embarrassing moan which tickled those around him into fitful laughs.

“WOOH! YOU CHABAS! GO GO GO!”