It's the romanticism of military that makes suicide mission survivors look like heroes and the careful look like cowards. Bulky armor with golden visor is stripped from the dead and hanged in the planet's museum. They give me the majestic white armor with the two triangles printed on the chest. My visor doesn't have anything on it, but it's tough. This armor is really tough. The flag shoots shotgun pellets out of the front and can be used several times, but I was told that the moment I kill something, I should pick up their weapon.
People tell me good luck and I stand in the front. I'm nervous. Really nervous. I pee my pants. I grip my flag with two hands. Behind me, I see thousands of soldiers silently waiting. The Mist President pops up on my visor and says "We are all different. We are so different than most of us were born to hate each other. Some of you were forced to be here, to fight for a planet that only has one color, but we are all here for a reason. That reason is to end this fight."
"Most of you may think that Mist is just another planet, but to me, it's home. To some of you here, it's home. Some of us have friends here. Some of us have lovers here. To some us, Mist is more than just a planet, more than just a fight for resources. For some of us, it's a fight for what we have on Mist."
"This planet might lack color, but it doesn't lack dedication. It doesn't lack love. It doesn't lack kindness. So fight for your friend, fight for your love, and fight for this planet. We are too far into this fight to give up now, to say this isn't worth it. So fight. Fight for Mist." The crowd cheers in unison. Thousand of voices ring out. I lose my nervousness.
YOU ARE READING
Mist
Science FictionThousands of years in the future, an everyday civilian finds himself stuck in a conflict on a boring planet called Mist. I wanted to publish this book but without Beta-readers and a large audience to back up publisher trust, of course, this book wou...
