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Megris Vernin
September 30th, 2005, 08:02 AM
I am a first time writer. This is the first year I have actually tried to write, something of value. Please read the stories I have listed below. I know there may be some spelling errors, but please dont rag on me too much
:O Im only 18!
The Broken Future

A man awakens in a pure white room, with no memory of who he is. His on ly source of information is a scientist, who might just be lying. The amensia stricken man is told it is the future, that he was frozen for some genetic disease. Yet the power in his veins says differently. The man feels strength, psychic power. He must now choose his destiny, trust the the scientist in front of him or risk life and death in a world he knows nothing about.

http://www.sffworld.com/community/story/595p0.html

The Quer'ith War Trial

A race of animorphic tribesmen meet to discuss the prospect of war. Before it is all over, blood flows, heads roll and clan conflicts arise!

http://sffworld.com/community/story/591p0.html

A soldier's regret

A new twist on anti war told from the perspective of a man who is about to be sent to battle in the near future.

http://sffworld.com/community/story/636p0.html

Galactic Warfare 2-The Limera Conflict

In t he far future there is a galactic Alliance. After three Interstellar wars there is an uneasy peace between the eight races: The Uni, Literans, Humans, Lekers, Tori, Zerith, Mukra, Bres'nira. Then there is first contact with the mysterius Insectoids. The worst of the eight races, The reptilian lekers, make contact with the aliens and attack. They are beaten back, and all Hell breaks lose. See the first ten chapters of a continuing saga. Please note I may have small gramattical and spellin errors.

http://sffworld.com/community/story/891p0.html

The Chronicles of Darren.

The Incomplete story of a by named Darren who has a bad day. He misses the bus, loses his lunch and ends up in a weird temple. Experience his strubble to survive against magical and mythological dangers.

http://sffworld.com/community/story/586p0.html

Galactic Warfare

The short story that started the Galactric Warfare Universe. Experience the Original story before you read the Limera Conflict.

http://sffworld.com/community/story/709p0.html :D :D :D :D

choppy
September 30th, 2005, 07:28 PM
Megris,

Well, for a first-time writer, it certainly looks like you've written a lot. I checked out "A Soldier's Regret."

Here are my thoughts. I know you requested us not 'rag' on you for spelling and grammar, but I noticed several errors (and when I notice them, they have to be pretty obvious). You may want to make sure you do a solid self-edit that includes an electronic spell-check before putting your work up for others to view.

Overall this piece tends to get a little preachy for my tastes, although one could argue it is a veiled comment on current world affairs. Basically, you have a draftee who is about to be dropped into a battle he does not understand. He refuses to fight and inspires others to do the same. In the first half of the story this character is basically just sitting there, waiting to die, and reflecting. While this kind of thing can work, I felt that you were very vague in details. I get that this guy doesn't understand what he's fighting for, but give me some more details about what he's doing. Is he infantry? Armoured? What is his military objective? Where is this conflict? Is it on earth? Against which nation?

Once the action started (maybe two pages in) I found my interest picked up, because there was more happening to draw me in. I don't mean to say that you can't have a story without action, but you do risk having a story that reads a lot like an essay, and as a result, I tend to disect the points in my mind and start to argue with them, rather than relax and enjoy the ride. Again, by the end I wanted more details - a longer description of the battlefield. How many soldiers have stopped fighting? Is this a local thing, or is it a massive anti-war movement?

Anyway, I think for someone as young as yourself you did a pretty good job on this piece. Keep writing!

Megris Vernin
October 1st, 2005, 09:27 AM
This is the second time I've ever got a comment on my sotires O_o. I write for others but I didn't get comments till recently. I appreciate your comments and will personally start editing that story. I LIKE FEEDBACK especially bad ones. Ill add some detail and fiz epslling ^_^. Thanks for your time. Try reading the other ones!

Here is the new and improves story

There is silence now. Don't be confused, I am surrounded by noise. Plenty of it. Bangs, explosions, and the occasional sound of searing flesh. It is the sound of men dying, desperately clinging to life. Their pain, their suffering makes a sound you can never forget. Even in my little aircraft, I can hear their agony clearly. The sound of this battle alone will haunt me for the rest of my life. Men around me talk and whisper to themselves, of how many enemy soldiers they will kill. Even they don’t know who they will fight. I keep wondering which will be the last sentence they say before they die.

Ever since the United States declared war on…everyone…you never know who will fight next. The Japanese, the Russians, even our long time allies the Canadians and the Europeans. Looking back now I can trace where it all went wrong, what led us to the position. America, no Americans as individuals were too proud, too arrogant. We thought the world was ours to do as well please. Fight a war or two over oil, we didn’t even flinch. No one dared to question our motives, until it became apparent what our true goals were.

But in the words said and in terms of equal understanding, I am alone. This may seem like a contradiction, and it is, but it is true. Or at least it is for me. One thing may happen, and it never did. Yet a lie may be spoken, and it is viewed as the truth. I alone of all the people of this army question what is happening to me, what I am going to do. The mental brainwashing they used should have made me into a killing machine, hell-bent on killing all enemies of the United States. I guess my brain chemistry was unique or something. It does really matter anymore. But how we fought a war for independence, and then intended to enslave the world I’ll never know.

The world is filled with such things. I am told one thing, and am supposed to believe something that obviously contradicts it. The propaganda machines, what is left of the media, even contradicts itself. They are little machines that the government uses for even more control. I am currently risking my life for one of these half truths and concocted lies. Millions others also do it. We put our lives on the line for these obvious lies, a true shame.

I am fighting for an idea my leaders decided one morning. The enemies, to our cause, are everyone but us. Ever nation on earth that refuses to surrender is an enemy. Too be fare, every country we fought against has refused to surrender. They do so because they know once the United States takes over their country will have all of its natural resources ripped apart and its people treated as slaves. That’s the way the enemy…., everyone.

A bit hazy, well that is the way it is supposed to be. The news media keeps coming up for different injustices these countries have done to us. The last one I saw was a rather bad one. Apparently the Middle East tortured our soldiers that landed there and thus must be killed. The whole idea of our war having a cause is laughable.

This evil has committed a terrible injustice...that is unknown. Yes a terrible crime, which no one can discover what it is. Yet they have done a great crime nonetheless. Whatever it is we must go to war over, such has the politicians in my country decided. Such it has been with all 200 nations of the world.

Peace, to this my leaders say no. They believe we must prove how brave and honorable we are, by committing one of the most dishonorable deeds imagines. They cause death and destruction unnecessarily. They don't care that millions are dying over their decision. One death is a tragedy; a million is a statistic to them. So now millions die over an unknown injustice. Scratch that, billions. Its funny how people used to think in the Twentieth century this world was near its population limit with seven billion. Man, how wrong they are. At the outset of this war, only seventy years later, the population was 23 billion. I don’t know how this world can keep so many alive…but the living standard of 22 of those billion is horrid.

They barely manage to scratch out enough food to live to the next day while we here in the United States live a truly idyllic existence, servant machines, flying cars its all here. Even so they left us alone. With the truly horrid weapons that the United States had, no one wanted a peace of us. But we were truly at the breaking point. I guess it was claiming Antarctica that broke the camel’s back. That was where most of the world’s water supply came from. All the rest of it is so polluted that it can’t support life. Yet 85% of the world’s fresh water is locked in ice, so it looked like there would always be more. Yet the United States claimed it all.

I will die, most likely, over this idea. I sit here in the armored hover craft awaiting my demise over an idea I have no belief in. I will have to kill people just for the sake of a group of isolated men in a high and far away office. Ironic, I think so. Not that anyone else cares. Lord no, plenty of people are happy to die for this cause. The mental conditioning that they gave us should have made them into killing machines. Yet I am different. I act just like the other soldiers to hide it; I speak of how I will rip my enemies into pieces. All of that little at just to preserve what small trace of my humanity I have left. If the government ever found out what had happened, that their brainwashing technique felled, I would be studied like a lab animal and studied.

Just the thought of that, is too much to bear. I instead choose death, silent death along the battlefield. Everyone in this transport will die. This is a fact, not just my opinion. Ever since this war started, there have been no veteran soldiers, no survivors. In the carnage of today’s war, with the assault mechs, killer viruses, and lasers there is less than a hundredth of a one percent chance of survival. So far no one has been able to break this percentage.

I suddenly have a thought of my children. I am leaving behind my daughter and wife to come to this battlefield. I am feeling regret. No, that world is to week. I feel sadness. Such unhappiness that only one that has gained and lost can understand. How is this fair? To take a man and force him to leave his family and take up arms on a far away battle. Then I remember, the world isn't fair. The politicians say that I am giving them a brighter future. They want me to believe that I am helping them out by dying for a cause my leaders have decided for me. Yet I cannot believe this. I think it is the greatest injustice in the world; to take a father away from his children.

A man next to me offers me a smoke. "No thank you," I say. "Take it," he replies," it'll be the last one you ever have." It is then that I realize this man is giving me the last rites. I now understand that not even my fellow soldiers expect me to live. To my fellow warriors, I am already dead. Even under all of their conditioning, I can tell that they are afraid. At the core, people know the truth. You can’t just live on lies. I feel their fear, and live it.

I am a coward. I am not fighting because I believe my cause is right and just, but because I am afraid. I am afraid of being humiliated in front of my family, and of deserting my country men. Mostly, I am ashamed to not give me true opinion. I could have not signed for the draft. I could have hid out somewhere, and stayed with my family.

Yet I signed, and here I am. I feel so filthy and dirty. Because of my own insecurities, I leave my darling kids Marisa and Jonathan alone. I will most likely never see their faces again. Sarah, how I wish to see your face one more time. Feel regret, not over what will happen to me but to my family.

My children will grow up without a father, and be mocked by others. It may seem like I am jumping the gun too much. Most soldiers survive, you must think. Yet no man has yet to come back from this war. Our greatest technological advancements have made sure most soldiers don't survive long enough to even get off their transports.

Deadly mechs are armed with fatal beams that can kill soldiers with just residual radiation. I would be lying to myself if I expected to come home. I am to go out and kill these mechs and other soldiers. I am not expected to live, but to die. I will die, and show the resolve of my nation. I will die for politicians I didn’t vote for and for ideas and decisions I didn't agree with.

I sit there awaiting my fate. I will fall at the hands of soldiers thousands of miles away piloting the mechs. Those highly trained people have no danger what so ever. Yet still men like me must be sent to the front lines. It is no longer technologically necessary, but it is a matter of pride and honor. I should be feeling a great sense of purpose going to die for my nation, yet as it is I feel only sadness at being separated from my family.

How far man has risen. The wondrous machines that we have built. These science developments should have been used to help people. I am no scientist, but I can think of numerous applications for civilian use. Yet the military leaders decided that they would take this newly found knowledge and put it into weapons. Weapons designed only to kill, and kill as effectively and efficiently as possible.

War. It has been the triumph of people since the dawn of time. The conflict led us to make ever more devious and unusual ways to kill each others. Because of it we have risen to new levels of effectively killing people. The fatality rate is so great that prisoners are no longer executed, but sent to the front lines. There they have no choice of survival. Just like me, just like me.

I sit and ponder my fate. Within mere minutes I will land and be attacked by grotesque weapons of massive destruction. Assault mechs...psychics with devestatinh power, and nitrogen bombs. All of them will be poised to be the first to kill me. I have no hope.

No...I have hope. Not for myself, but for others. Maybe one day someone will comprehend the futility of wars, and do away with them. I hope my children will grow to a future where they won't have to die like me. Yet I am only helping to prolong this struggle. I am one more gun, one more unnamed soldier to through into the fray of combat. I will be one more man without a grave.

The craft begins to descend in the air, and I can feel the intense heat of far away discharged plasma bursts and hydrogen shells. The feeling to me is horrid. Where men ever supposed to do this? Did we climb out of our trees so many eons ago because we decided me must live and die like this? I think not, I think that certain monkeys kicked other monkeys out of the tree and they forcibly came back generations later with axes and hand saws, and reclaimed their tree by destroying it. Another wonderful contradiction.

Men around me prepare for combat. Guns are checked and rechecked. Plasma rifles and methodically checked, as if it will some how save a soldier's life. I do not bother. This gun in my hand will not save me, but will only kill others. I have no such desire to do that. I will walk onto the battlefield and accept my fate. I will die, with harming a sole. An easy target. I will make it quick. Hopefully my family will be praised for having their father and husband give his life for the country.

The soldiers all use the government stems, these little devices that spill about a liter of steroids, hallucinogens, and various other things into our bodies to make us even better soldiers. No man would willingly walk into this carnage, so the warriors must be made insane first. The drug is supposed to almost kill you after you take it, to give you a few hours of incredible strength before shutting down almost all of your major organs. By that time most are dead, and the few left can’t fight the weakness in their own bodies. This just one other little thing that prevents men from going home to their children.

I am a coward, and I am at death's door. I stare out of one of our windows. I can see far away the signs of a battle. Even hundreds of feet in the air I can feel the carnage, and the destruction. All of it is so meaningless. So many lost souls, that will die today for a cause that has no meaning or purpose. Correct that. Whose purpose is to kill men?

I see old men and young ones around me. With so many soldiers already dead, the government must be scraping the bottom of the barrel. I see children as young as 13, and men that could be my grandfather. Very soon no men will be left, and the general raft for women will begin. I just hope my wife is spared. If she dies to, my children will have no parents what so ever. For their sake I am here. If I serve, no other family member must die.


It is my way of giving back to the world. I have had no meaning in life, except for my family. Before I met Sarah, I just drifted through life like a thug. I did what I needed to survive, and never thought about the day before, or after. Yet after I met her, all of that changed. She gave me purpose and meaning. I live for her. I now had obligations to someone other then myself. I just hope that she can still love me, after doing this. The horror that I have endured, the things that I have witnessed. In a way I am glad I do not have to go back home, I will never have to confront her, never to explain why or how I did what I did.

When my children were born, when I first held them I was so happy. Just to know and think of the times we had together is enough. I give all that I can for them, and this is my last reward. I just hope they don't hate me for leaving them. That is the worst thing that I can imagine, even worse than my current situation.

Our craft lands with a thud and hits the earth. The time has finally come. I am...ready. I live only for my family, and if I must I will die for them. Death soon awaits me, and I will meet it willingly. The sound of ray beams and other weapons can be heard even from within hear. I watch as the doors begin to fall, and for the signal to move out.

The steel and zirconium reinforced door drops and my fellow soldiers rush towards their doom. For their intense patriotic fervor, they get killed by a lone Pandora Mech. Such is the way of the world. I sit back, the only man to not be burned by the sharp micro-wave assault laser beams. I sit there, knowing I face death. If I stay I will die, if I go I will die. Such a glorious choice I have. Yet I will not hide, I get up and head towards the door unarmed.

The Mech watches me approach with its glass eyes and doesn't attack. Apparently it was never programmed with how to respond to an unarmed enemy soldier. Funny...I grimace in unexpected joy and walk past it. A few feet in front of me I see the horrendous site of burning mechs and dying men. Oil and blood freely mix on the battle field. The sight is terrible. The odor is strong, like some lingering death sprawled on the ground in front of me. Worst of all is the sound. I can hear the men around me die, the sound of discharged lasers and crushing mechs. It is worse then I imagined.

Men and destroyed equipment lay scattered in front of me. Millions of people lay here, for no purpose. They have left their families just to come here and die. They, the enemy, are probably like me. Only coming for the sake of their children. I lay down, in the sands, for the end to come. I await my demise

In front of me I see an enemy soldier. He has fallen and severely cut himself. He is not some monster that the media portrayed them as. He is a man, just like me. The soldier is afraid, I can feel it. I am afraid. My duty calls me to kill him, to die and taker someone with me. But can I do it? I am not mentally altered like any of the other soldiers and have some free will, but if I don’t kill him he might kill me. Either way I think I will die soon. But if I kill him, perhaps I can live a little longer

I see a gun near me and begin to reach for it. Then I stop. I wonder how I can tell my children what I did here today, if I survived. Could I really face them and say I killed someone for their sake? No...I couldn't. I stop reaching for the gun and stare at the soldier. “I don’t know if you can understand me, but I won’t hurt you. There is too much death around us as it is.”

I make a decision then. I will not fight. If I do, I will only prolong the chaos. I will do something that will damn my family if they ever find out. The public will scorn and outcast them, but at least I can face them with a clear conscience. I do what I do then for my children, I raise my hand to help the man. “Please, let me help you up.” The soldier grabs my hand and drops a pistol he had been hiding behind his back. Not I see, if I had shot him, I would have died there too.

I know in the eyes of my government I have done high treason. I am assisting the enemy, yet what does it matter in the end. We are both men. All wars are civil because all men are brothers. A bit corny perhaps? Well that is because it is true. Me and that enemy soldier, we stand there and just look at each other. Then we both smile. For the two of us, the war is over. If every soldier did as I did, the war would be over. Or perhaps it would never have begun.

I hope that I can break the cycle. Maybe if I do this my children will not have to go through the same thing I have. In my own way I break the cycle. The enemy soldier looks at me with bewildered eyes, and grasps my hand. “Why…why would you help me?”

“This war, all of it is something I never wanted. I want all of this needless bloodshed to end. Maybe by helping you I can begin to cleanse my soul.”

Them Mech looks at me again. It seems to have made up its mind to kill me. Yet the soldier I just saved moves in front of it

“This is not an enemy soldier, he was an undercover officer, move elsewhere.” The machine ponders his words for a second and then moves on, to find some other target.
Around me soldiers see how I saw spared, how the Mech left me alone when I dropped my weapon helped the enemy. They also see how the soldier saved my life.

First one throws down his arms, then another. The weapon makes a crackling sound as they hit the sand. The Mechs all stop and freeze. The fighting has ended. Without armed soldiers to kill, they freeze. They kill enemy men, not noncombatants. I have started a revolution. Here today, I say no to foreign tyrants. I say no to my government. I will not fight and die for them. I hope my action changes the world in a small way. I can't change it, but perhaps I can make a dent.

I don’t know if this small rebellion of ours will truly mean anything at all. Perhaps in the next moment we will all be killed by some nuclear attack. Yet the first gesture had been made and received. We can stop fighting, and learn to live in peace. I will go around to other battles and men and spread my word of pacifism. I suddenly smile as I realize something, I survived. I ….might be able to see my family again. I can face them too, with a clear conscience. I didn’t kill anyone

Other soldiers around me look to me with estranged eyes. We have betrayed our nation by not fighting. Or perhaps, I reason, we save it. Any nation which does realize the value of its own people has no right to survive. Today I stare at the horizon and say silently.

"I am coming home.” There is suddenly a strong breeze in the air, and I like to think it will carry my words on it back to my family, somehow.