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Retribution Part 2

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The Shivans were a race of insectile monstrosities from the planet Shiva. They had 3 legs and 2 arms. And they poured out of their black-and-red spiderlike ships by the hundreds.
The demons and humans attacked the foul creatures who were now slaughtering them. After two whole hours, it was over. The Shivans lost. Thousands of human, demon, and Shivan corpses littered the ground. 85% of the humans and demons were wiped out. The Shivan troops were superior to both of the races whose soldiers killed them. The Shivans were outnumbered 500 to 1 and still nearly won. The humans and the demon faction that had helped them, the N'Garai faction, became allies. The N'Garais eagerly enlisted in the Marines. The younger warriors donned the green enlisted men's suit, while the older, battle-hardened ones became officers and wore the red officer's uniform. The humans were ecstatic. But they would need all the help they could get to face the challenges that lay ahead...

Don't miss part 3 of the 40-part tale Retribution, where the humans and their N'Garai friends will have to face an entire army of Shivans. They will have to take advantage of a new weapon that can easily penetrate the Shivan exoskeleton...

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Just for your own edification:

In order for people to want to read your fiction, you have to show, not tell. What you have is called exposition, and most people find it boring.

You have a good idea going, but you need to show us the action not tell us.

For example:

The red and black spider-ship descended upon a pillar of flame and landed on the plain in a cloud of dust. The cloud settled and the ship stood motionless and silent, a giant tarantula looking for its prey.

A dust devil played in front of the ship, and a thin wind whipsered across the cracked earth, speaking riddles with no answers. I stood staring at the ship and swallowed. Evil had landed.

With a metallic screech that ripped through the silence, a ramp descended to the ground and a hole appeared in the side of the ship. I strained to see into the hole and could just glimpse something moving in the gloom. I moved the chaingun, wrapped in a sling over my shoulder, around to face the ship. Sweat beaded on my forehead and ran stinging into my eyes.

"What the hell they waiting for?" Jackson said in a slow southern drawl. I just shook my head. My throat was too dry to speak.

All at once, with the sound of a thousand demons screaming from the pits of hell, they came at us. Legs, bodies and teeth churned toward our position; a flood of living death.

"Sweet mother of God," Jackson said. Then they were on us.

Its a bit rough but isn't that more interesting to read?

Just a thought.

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