Graduation exam

Lined up along with the rest of his 'class' in full combat unitform and carrying their complete survival packs, Oscar sweated under his helmet and grinned at the brilliance of their sargent.

The Graduation exam of his class was taking place on one of the hottest days of the year for Pentdragon. This would be a true test of their stanima and resolve. He doubted any of his 'squad' would wash out. They wanted to prove that the lesser nobles could give it as good as any other.

Their task was the run the course, followed by a jog around the outskirts of the Imperial palace, following the walls of the grounds, before returning to the base and back tracking the course to this point.

Oscar hefted his pack and narrowed his eyes as the sargent contuined to pace before them, explaing that this had no time limit, it was a case of completeing the course. the last ten would wash out of the program, leaving the remaining sixty to become members of the Britannian military.

"Alright men! This is your last chance to screw up! Lets see who's washing out!" THe man bellowed and fired the starting pistol. THe recurits lauched forward in a surge, a number hanging back as was the smart thing to do. keep it steady, don't wear yourself out early.
Oscar was one of the latter, mounting one of the ramps to a wall climb followed by a rope swing. One soldier fell from the rope into the muddy slop below, and had to drag himself out from the muck and contuine on. He now had alot more weight to drag around.

Pulling himself clear of the barbed wire crawling section, Oscar now had the 2 KM jog to the Imperial Palace down a central Bolovarde, before the 6 KM jog around the Palace itself before returning to the Base itself.

They all were watched by the nobles that used the street, the soldiers jogged down the central pathway, cleared for their run, while the two outer paths had the cafe stalls and tables filled with high ranking socialites. Some chuckled at them, the odd one saluted but the bulk carried on with their lives.

Oscar focued on his legs, making sure to not think on the weight on his shoulders and back as he kept at a steady jog. He wouldn't wash out of this exam, no chance at all. He was born to be a soldier and he had no plans on failing himself today.

He paused, hands on his knees while panting into his mask. He refused to take it off, wanting to be able to suceed at this kind of task with as many burdens as possible, to further prove himself.

A few other men passed him. No runners now since they where just oveer three quaters of the way round, the only runners would be the men attempting to pull ahead of the lead pack, which Oscar had been leading for the final stretch of the Palace.

His body needed a short rest, it demanded it from burning muscles and a pounding headache. He popped his mask off and took a few sips from his canteen, gasping it down and rolling his shoulders.
Resecuring his mask and gear he set off at a quick jog, pulling back ahead of the rear elements of the lead in good time. Taking advantage of the others pausing for rest or just plain over working themselves, Oscar cleared the lead and was in 'first' as he rounded the final corner of the Palace outskirts, a small run left before the Boulevard and then the reverse run of the training course to finish.

Everything was dead to him now, his mind trained only on moving forward and onwards, driving him right to the base quickly and nearly effortlessly.

However, all of the running would mean he now had little to no strength left to climb, or much less lift himself up and over the now reversed wooden training boards. He was only managing to climb over the first board as the pack caught up with him, and they then attempted to climb themselves.

Oscar pulled himself up, over and he failed to catch himself, before tumbling and falling down to the ground, trying his best not to cry out from the mild pain of it all.

He pushed himself up, steadied his feet and pushed onwards. Soon he was over the final barrier and took up a sprint to the finish, flying past the sargeant who clicked in a stopwatch. as Oscar staggered his last few steps he fell onto his back again, panting hard, popping his mask off and removing his helmet, while on the floor.

"Well, recruit Hemsworth. You just completed the course in three hours and twenty seven minitues. That's a company record. I'll let you revel in that little victory, but tomorrow you're going to be cursing to high heaven with the pain you''ll be in." The man said with a smirk before returning to the line, as the other recruits started to make their way towards him.

Oscar just laid there, panting and blinking. "Thank christ for that..."