the adventures of Borin and Argen: war
‘You are here because you are more capable of going through the grit than what others are,’ said a military instructor, ‘to move beyond your minor roles of the service’.
Borin and Argen sat in the front row of the classroom. Walls of canvas squared off the room with the clinical light of a truck crossing the room. The military instructor went through the new things they would do as front line fighters, unlike the simpler roles of maintaining the company.
“In your new roles as sergeants of an Arms, your only superior officer is the Arms. He is incharge of over 1000 sergeants of equal rank. You have more autonomy in battle but are still responsible to rally with your compatriots and the Arms as they advance. Here are your orders. Gear up for battle.” Argen’s legs jittered and Borin’s stomach rumbled. Promoted to sergeant, now they get space spud rations for military service in their company.
Once finished up, they were sent on the assignment. They passed by the old communications room they had worked at across from the private strategy room.
‘Smells like whisky,’ Borin said as they passed by the parallel rooms. ‘The new communications team will not be up to scratch being drunk’.
‘Some personal radios won’t be missed with the communication room being run as badly as it smells,’ replied Argen turning around and going back.
Sneaking in, the room was empty, except for large arrays of communication equipment that Borin and Argen had been trained to use. There was no evidence of anyone or any alcohol. Argen grabbed two personal radios from a rack and left the room.
Geared up in battered uniforms, Borin and Argen marched with other sergeants into battle. Soldiers’ footsteps were unheard over the trucks’ sound they followed. Engines were ticking along the stone paved road to larger sounds. Booms, bangs, zaps could be heard beyond the visible wasteland edge, where a cloud of dust hung. Cheers rose around the two, with battle a moment away. Borin and Argen joined in. Eagerness vibrated along with the ground.
‘We are the mighty, we are the stone, we are here and not leaving until long!’chanted the other sergeants, finally overpowering the truck.
Sightlines broke though the cloud to view a steep hill which still obscured what was to come. This hill was covered in stone and blackened craters. A giant death ray came down from a sharp sidious structure above. It surrounded the truck in a bright light before it exploded scattering all the sergeants, throwing Argen and Borin into different piles of soldiers.
Waking in a haze, neither could see the other as the battle raged on around them. Borin went to find cover at the truck’s wreckage while Argen went off in the wrong direction. They both felt a little shocked by the death ray exploding the truck.
“Help,” yelled Argen out to the soldiers around her. “Please.”
No one answered her, too preoccupied with the battle to provide any aid to a random call for help. Argen went up to the nearest soldier to get his attention.
“Mind pointing me in the direction of a larger woman?” ask Argen to a soldier reloading extreme caliber gold cartridged bullets while deadly rays narrowly missed them.
Ducking down from a spray of dirt he replied,” I ain't here to help you. No one here is obliged to.”
“That's rather rude. I do think so and don’t you think so?” yelled a shot old man behind them. The shot man happened to also be an older looking version of the one Argen was talking to.
“O quit it ya old junket” replied the younger one of the two lookalikes.
“You think coming back from the future to see me do all the same things again is fun?” croaked the shot old man.
“Argen, come on, I am hiding out at the truck’s wreckage. You better not tell anyone else and get us caught,” spoke Borin’s voice on Argen’s radio.
Argen looked on as they went on yapping both being unhelpful for her. she left them, walking back the way she came to look for Borin. Later,