Spaced

“You must understand! Three months out here alone in the dead of space can do terrible things to the mind” I screamed at the incessantly blank computer monitor. It felt unnerving to lie vertical, suspended only by an eternal free fall into the endless skies. I was flying and fading into oblivion faster then any Earth bound sky liner.
My eyes darted from the terminal to the crumpled enveloped buried in my palm, and to my chamber just to be sure I was secret and safe. The room was dark, always dark, filled with the clutter of toss and tumble debris that danced aimlessly. The small hatch had been wedged shut, if any of them lived, none could not find me in here. The computer was my only company now, her soft words had emotionlessly comforted me, and now she seemed to stare at me with that single glassy black eye.
“Why should I open it, it was theirs and their dead now, it’s meaningless!” I mumbled. My mind was racing and the computer still stared in murderous silence.
“No, it won’t give me any clues into their motives.” I spoke uneasily. “They were pirates and I protected my ship. Still, the eye stared and my curiosity boiled. “If pirates could come, where was anybody else?” My heart throbbed and in desperate fury and action, I shattered the cover and read aloud the finely printed words inside. “Captain Quinn, I still can’t believe it! We finally found her, after nine years, the rescue and salvage of the Avarice can begin, we can only hope that there are still survivors.”

This Great Earth

Only the most important things are worth fighting for. Only those that are cherished beyond all else are worth dying for. There is nothing in the entire universe that has any greater value then this home, this world, this great Earth. These thoughts among others flirted through the young mind of Private, Andrew Moore.
He gazed out through the cramped visor of his gas mask at the field soon to run red with battle. It was here that the fate of the entire world would be decided. The wind swept through like an angry predator in frantic search for its prey. The scant vegetation that clung desperately to life swayed listlessly as if in early mourning. Across the void, there stood the black columns of destruction. The heartless machine hoard had been waiting for this day. They had built up their armies on this battlefield, a place long known as Armageddon.
“Kinda depressin’ don’t ya think?” The soldier next to him, drawled out in a South Tennessee accent.
Moore answered. “It’s incredible, only fifteen years ago, those computers couldn’t navigate a five mile course, now they have reached complete artificial intelligence and jeopardize our entire race.”
“Nothin’ smart about those things, they just run lotsa programs at the same time to make us think that they are all that.” He paused for a moment. “Stop usin’ those big words.” The agitation carried through his thick gas mask.
“How did you get in this army, Waters?” Moore asked lightheartedly.
“U.N. needed help, so Uncle Sammy drafted little ole me.” Waters responded.
“All the kings of the world gathered on that field--” Andrew recited. His memory returning to the tattered, leather bible covered with dust on the highest shelf. He had only cracked it open once and instinctively went to the last chapter. After he read just a few pages, he threw it back to its lofty perch, completely afraid. “Why couldn’t they choose anywhere else to fight, why here.”
“Cause, well I dunno, we had to fight somewhere, I guess, why not here.”
“Napoleon once wanted to fight here, to him it was the perfect field of battle, that’s why.” Moore answered his own question. Then, he stared to the west.
The sun had retreated into the horizon and dug into its foxhole at the ends of the Earth. Night was seizing control of the land as the light left the soldiers on the field. In the failing day, neither side knew who fired the shot heard around the world but the dogs of war snapped their leashes.
Masses of flesh, armor, and oily machine-cannons pressed against Moore and he went the only way left, straight into the jaws of death. Artillery volleyed and thundered shredding the night into carnage and strife. To his bewilderment, Moore caught site of an enemy infantry, a cold, killing machine. Andrew quickly chambered his rifle, slamming into his right arm and fiercely pulled the trigger. The final war of this great Earth had begun.

Hey man thats pretty gripping stuff. Im not much of a critic but i like the description it really set an atmosphere. You writing anymore?