The Delmarian Influence

Chapter Two

A Ranger of the Confederate is considered the Elite of the Special Forces. They are near indestructible, fearless, and they make the law for any lawless sector under Confederate rule. When the Corridors were first discovered, the Rangers were first in and first out. When the Humans fought the Delmarians, the Rangers were at the front, even though they were outgunned. Even the Delmarians admitted the Confederate Rangers were a "testament to the Human Condition".

Join today before you miss your next mission!

---Confederate Advertisement for Entrance into Special Forces

2.

4100 O.E., Septam 18, 05:53:30.24

Habitable Planetary System of Delmar

Delmar I, Continent of La Gordia, Essix

The glare from the rising sun made his eyes water, more so than regular mornings. He couldn’t help but think that this was the last time he would run the paved track of his high school at sunrise. It made the sun seem all the brighter and the day all the more chill.

The black rounded pavement surrounded a field that measured a hundred meters any way you walked, which made for a run that nearly left him out of breath every morning.  It was something he enjoyed, letting the air cool the sweat on his body and watching the clouds of steam he expelled through his mouth and nose.

The stands that surrounded him were empty, leaving the quiet echo of his own breathing and the padding of his rubber sneakers across the pavement. He concentrated on the metallic fences that stood two meters from the nearest stands.

The scenery seemed to hardly move as he increased his speed and the rhythm of his breathing. The blue and white of his school colors matched the large banner that read “Essix Rut-Grinders! Go!”. He could still hear the crowd cheering him on as he ran past his peers, seeing the mark of the second lap coming closer and closer until it was his own.

On the second lap he could feel the sweat pouring from his body, the adrenaline rushing through his system. He was euphoric enough to laugh and hear it echoed back as though someone laughed with him. The Essix sweater he wore was damp and he smiled at the feel of it, at the burning in his legs and abdomen. It made him wish he had time to lift so that he could feel the swelling of muscles and the weakness of hunger that always came last.

Breathing with a bit more trouble on his third lap, he stopped, stepping away from the track and heading back to where his things lay on the field.

As he sat, he opened the blue and white bag. The dew-covered grass soaked through thin pants he wore, soothing his sore thighs. Pulling a towel the same colors as his bag, he wiped his brow and retrieved a water bottle. The water was taken from the springs in Analae, where his father was stationed this year. It was always more refreshing than any of the others he tried. Of course, everything was better after a good run.

Sipping at the fluid that was luke warm, he stretched, letting his body cool down from the strain he had put to it. Soon his legs felt heavy and he became aware of his own scent. Mingled with the smell of wet grass and cool air he only wrinkled his nose slightly.

He took a last look around the stands that were smaller than the oak and spruces that seemed forever untouched from this distance. The leaves were green and large, making the trees look larger than they really were. He felt as if they shared some secret between them. He had seen them at their worst in the winter months. The leaves would fall, leaving them spindly and gaunt-looking, nearly anorexic. He had seen them without their clothing and understood their true souls.