As he lay dying under the twin suns, the smell of death and decay clawing at his throat, Sheref felt for his gun with a feeble hand, but of course he’d lost it during the battle. He’d heard that Slink women often moved among the dead and dying, collecting testes as trophies, and he found that a more terrifying thought than death.

The suns blazed down on him, baking the vomit and blood on his uniform into a crust that crackled whenever he moved. Flies alighted upon his exposed skin before buzzing away to find less lively targets among the slowly putrefying lumps stewing in the heat. The jungle, thick and humid, rustled around him as the hot wind played through the frond-clusters on the edges of the battlefield. His face had a film of sweat on it and the air

The Original First Thirteen

It was a disaster and a tragedy, but the report would not say that – whoever heard of a military document that told the truth?

Later, when he lay dying under the twin suns, the smell of death and decay clawing at his throat, Sheref became obsessed with how the dispatches might report the events. Delirious, he reached for his water-canteen, but found nothing.

At that time, the battlefield still some hours away, Sheref’s concerns amounted to little more than an itchy crotch. He scratched at the exact, inopportune moment when the colonel came into view. Sheref had repeatedly seen the colonel derogate troops for lesser indiscretions, so he found it disquieting when, in a strangely calm manner, the officer looked the other way.

Please Critique

All help with the thirteen is welcome. Currently doing yet another revision, but later (probably weeks or months later) I would be grateful if anyone wants to read a few chapters.

I'm confused by the transition between paragraph two and three. Are we going back in time or something? It seems like there is a huge time shift, but not much of a transition to let me know that.

And there is a shift in time between the first and second paragraph as well. This makes it a bit hard to follow with all the time shifts.

Maybe start the third paragraph with something like, but before all that happened, Sheref . . .

The second colony could make for some interesting scenes. A soldier that goes out of his way to avoid destroying a tree, while killing humans.

Other than what I pointed out, I like the first 13. If you want you can comment on the first 13 in my YA fantasy with strange creatures.

Regarding the first 13:

It was a disaster and a tragedy, but the report would not say that. Whoever heard of a military document that told the truth?

The above paragraph sounds like someone who has both time and certain level of comfort enough to make broad philosophical observations--not someone who is delirious and dying. I found this jarred with his physical condition as expressed in the next but one paragraph. There is no suggestion--you haven't made it clear--that you are writing in anything other 3rd limited, so I am left wondering who is making these remarks. They feel like authorial intrusion.

As he lay dying under the twin suns, the smell of death and decay clawing at his throat, Sheref became obsessed with how the dispatches might report the events.

Delirious, he reached for his water-canteen, but found nothing. “Confiscated … before the battle started,” he mumbled to himself as he dredged the memory up. His hand twitched as though strangling someone, the image of the sergeant with his battle-hardened and expressionless face vivid in his mind. Sheref maintained the effort for a few moments, but then his fingers unclenched, and he calmed. “Not your fault, sarge,” he muttered. “You were just following orders.” It took him a moment to realise that he had been talking to himself.

There are elements of this that I like and elements that are lacking. Where is he? Under the twin suns? Is he on a battlefield surrounded by corpses? How is he wounded? Are men cryiing out in pain? Are there crows cawing as they pluck out eyeballs?

The physical description of the battlefield, with its fields of dead and dying is there, but a bit later. I'm struggling whether to put that first, or the reason for Sheref being where he is.

As he lay dying under the twin suns **of ? or just 'twin suns', no 'the'?**, the smell**do we need 'the smell?' I think I might it like it better without** of death and decay clawing at his throat, Sheref felt for his gun with a feeble hand, but of course he’d lost it during the battle. **this may be picking nits. would a soldier drop his one live weapon in a battle? maybe he tossed it aside when his ammo ran out? dropped it when he fell? probably I'm being too picky here** He’d heard that Slink women often moved among the dead and dying, collecting testes as trophies, and he found that a more terrifying thought than death.

The suns blazed down on him, baking the vomit and blood on his uniform into a crust that crackled whenever he moved. Flies alighted upon his exposed skin before buzzing away to find less lively targets among the slowly putrefying lumps stewing in the heat. The jungle, thick and humid, rustled around him as the hot wind played through the frond-clusters on the edges of the battlefield. His face had a film of sweat on it and the air

I do like it. I would keep reading.