The Flood of War

Shena would never get used to seeing the likes of them.

The female Hypasists in front of the swarm were the first into the fray. Wielding crude scrap metal shields to try and block the devastating Gatling guns fire, which they knew would be the greatest threat against their swarm's assault. Behind them were the skirmishers wielding throwing spears and the battle hardened warriors armed with badly designed, but brutal shredder guns, decorated with a sawblade bayonet at the end of the barrel. They all looked almost identical. Relatively tall, four arms and skinny bodies the color of sandstone tan, wearing nothing but rags and crude armor pieces held together by old pieces of rope. Although they were not the malnourished worker class at the bottom of their society; they still seemed to be of a low status in life. They were starving. For battle. And for blood. Her and her friend's blood.

A pair of massive oversized black mandibles used for tearing and ripping into flesh protruded outward from their large rounded heads like curved sharpened ebony horns. Only these horns rested awkwardly insead side by side against an angry maw of pointed snarling teeth salivating and rotten. The sound of the mandibles snapping and clamping shut echoed victoriously as their swarms drums of war, echoing through the narrow pass for all their adversaries to hear. Growing louder and louder. Edging them on further in an infectious chant of rage from one sibling to the next. The instruments of death were so bulky and oversized in fact that a few of the older sisters were having difficulty even looking downward in front of them as they tried to avoid tripping over the corpses of their fallen at their feet who impeded their frenzied rush forward. It didn't matter tonight though. They only had to look in one direction. Forward. Not down at the their dead sisters. Not behind in retreat like cowards. Forward. The direction with the fresh scent of new prey. Even if blind. That scent would guide them to another in a long line of victories. Forward. Was all that they had been taught to go toward. No matter who or what tried to stop them or how many they lost in the process.

Atop their emotionless black reflective eyes sat two protruding antennae angled downward like narrowed brows of pure manifested rage, the evolutionary features still used for smelling and communing with each other in an ancient manner which Shena thought of as profoundly alien. But the most noticeably iconic and infamous thing about a raider drone, was her skull like head. The deathly symbol of their tattered red and white flag infamously drenched and painted in the blood and powdered bones of their fallen enemies, now currently held waving high in the stormy wind by a few proud sisters in front, unafraid of being directly in the line of fire. A symbol they believed was an honor to carry that instilled fear in all other species who came across it's path which most often was the last thing they ever saw. A symbol that was getting closer to encroaching upon the platoon's one remaining national banner of navy blue with three golden scallop shells planted at the very top of this mound just seven soldiers were left defending.

Seven. Against thousands.

Shena shuddered at the reminder of what they were up against. Army ants. The largest and most aggressive species of all ants that had carved a path of destruction all the way from here to the corathian desert. Army ants that killed and mutilated anything they came across effortlessly for pleasure and profit. Army ants that could effortlessly rip the very flesh off Shena and her soldiers bones with their bare hands. An action which every single one of their swarm would most certainly die trying to accomplish once more before the night was done. And all to make their mother proud who probably didn't even know any of them in person and had never bothered to give any of them names.

But still...Shena had a strangely good feeling of accomplishment. Just a month ago it had been a million they were facing. They were making progress. This was just a fragment of what unstoppable force remained before, and the swarm leader general had not shown himself once in all that time, probably having been killed in one of the earlier assaults, leaving them all leaderless. This wasn't a numbers game anymore. Her team could actually survive this if they could wither away bulk of their forces . And the raiders knew this just as well as she did. They were desperate. Most of their more experienced battle hardened warriors were now lying dead at the bottom of this ditch. That. Was good. It made their task all the more hopeful.

One of the flag bearers running with her sisters in the front was the first to speak. Her voice raspy and filled with hate from weeks of failed assaults and lack of sleep.

"Chaea ta ve Roysita!" She shouted while gesturing to her siblings. Tossing aside her shield and raising her crimson flag she had saved high above her head, caught up in her own exhilaration and adrenaline fush for her glorious moment at the front of the swarm. "Death to the Royalists! With me sisters!!! Forward!!!!"

An opening.

"Open fire!" Shena commanded without a moment of hesitation.

Before the young patriotic ant even got close to the mound, Shena dropped her with one quick pull of the trigger. The miniature harpoon bolt being propelled by condensed air and superheated steaming water with a loud tffffsss!!!. Piercing her skull and out the back; ending her one and only life long dream of planting her swarms banner. The hypaspist who couldn't have been more than fourteen grew deathly quiet, stopped, and abruptly collapsed in her tracks, falling face down in the mud with a loud splash. Her sisters trampled over her corpse like a dirty rug in their determined charge. Undaunted by their siblings sudden demise. She was gone. And that was that. Another soon picked up the dropped flag and carried on. She too met a similar fate seconds later.

The fresh hypasist's in an attempt to preserve what was left of the more battle hardened and valuable older sisters behind their backs tried forming a shield wall as they marched, using their own bodies hoping to block the onslaught of the platoon's fire. They needn't have bothered. The high-speed, armor piercing harpoon rounds of the Gatling gun easily passed through the rusty shields. Within seconds most of the hypaspists, skirmishers, and flag bearers in the front were dead. But that didn't matter to the other raiders behind. They had served their mission. If the shields and spirits had hardly helped, their deaths and bodies were an even greater asset as a distraction. The warriors behind had already reached the base of the mound. They had closed the distance by allowing those in front to take the full blunt of the assault. A necessary sacrifice. Now it was up to them to see this through to the end as the main force.

The raiders clawed and scraped at each other attempting and struggling to get around the numerous wooden spikes engulfing every square inch of the cavernous ditch. The swarm of ants started to sink in the knee-high mud quickly, with those in the front either shot or slipping back immediately through the thick mud. The advancing sisterhood had begun to crush each other accidentally by the sheer weight and inability to move in such a confined space. Their eagerness to prove themselves and rush head long into open battle a snipers dream.

A perfect Target.

The sound of the condensed water of guns propelling the platoons round's directly into the helpless enemies trapped at the bottom, overshadowed their screams. It sounded chillingly calm and soothing. Like the running of water through a faucet back home.

Hitting an ant was not the problem. With so many of their ranks packed so close together, that was the easy part. The problem was just that there were too many bugs, and not nearly enough ammo or soldiers needed to repel them all for very long. If anything Shena and her men seemed to be helping their cause inadvertently. The dead and injured raiders slowly started to form a pile, allowing for those in the rear to cross above the pike's safety. But the army ants were not intent on making the tall slippery climb each on their own.

They would use each other.

The mobs of raiders in front desperate to escape the ditch of death, suddenly dropped their weapons in order to link all their arms tightly in an instinctive formation with their sisters beside them. Slowly a vertical tower of warriors began to form upward, allowing the ants to reach higher and higher atop their siblings shoulders as a frightening mass of flesh and mandibles. If they all reached the top at the same time, they would overrun and surround the platoon easily within seconds.

"They're forming up again!" Neso roared frantically. "There's too many of them!!!"The tiger gunner was swiveling the heavy gun desperately at any enemy below him, with dozens falling down from the growing pyramid of insects. All Shrieking in agony if they were unlucky enough to come into view of his weapon's cross-hairs. But even with the Gatling guns help, and many of the weaker raiders trapped below, the platoon was straining to keep up with the massive united swarm that was reaching ever closer to the top.

"Just keep firing towards the tower's base!" Just as Shena finished her command. A hurling spear then suddenly passed right above her skull, just barely missing her head by mere inches as she glanced away from Neso. At least the low visibility of the rain was helping the platoon out more than their promised backup.

Shena aimed back down and fired back at the direction of the enemy projectile effortlessly and instantaneous. The shots owner tumbled down dead into the mounting pile of their injured and deceased siblings below, with those still alive squealing in pain and fear. Some of the raiders tried to fire up at them with their own guns and throwing spears, but Shena and her men were too well positioned behind cover out of view above; at least for the moment. They intended to keep their positional advantage for as long as they could.

Unfortunately, that would not be for much longer.

The first ant after struggling to climb the tower out of the meat grinder leapt quickly up off the top of the formation. Barely managing to latch on to the mound edge, the insect quickly lifted herself up off the ground and began it's charge across the parapet in a berserk rage; grinning with spears in each of its four hand's as it charged straight towards Vesa. Ten more of the young warrior's sisters suddenly joined in close behind to assist in the rush toward the weakest target. Vesa frantically aimed her pistol at each of the raiders. Managing to take down four of them as they charged before having to reload her weapon quickly. Her hands shaking violently as she loaded her revolver bolts one at a time with all her speed and focus. But it was too late, they were right on top of her. The deadly insects lunged their weapons at Vesa. Screaming at the top of their lungs with nothing but pure hatred. Their emotionless black eyes reflecting back her own frightened yellow ones.

"Kill the little one! Kill her now!, Rip head and tail off!" The warrior in front cried out to her siblings. Her heart full of glee and rage.

Vesa slipped and fell back in the mud. Desperately raising her arms in front as she braced for the worst. Blood started to emerge from her fresh stitches having ripped open slightly from her quick moments, causing her to let out a sudden yelp from the abrupt pain returning in her injured leg.

Sergeant Kiros who had been hectically preoccupied with the battle, turned his head slightly just for a second. He saw the bugs bringing the death blow toward the platoon's valuable medic. That would simply not stand.

Despite being old and a turtle, which were two undesired additions to his battered physique he would rather live without, he was deceptively much quicker with his feet than most gave him credit for. The veteran soldier jumped right in front of Vesa as she lay on the ground. His massive armored shell turned away to use as a shield against the full force of the raiders approaching strikes head on.

The spears shattered into numerous splinters and fell to the dirt. The raiders stepped back holding their destroyed weapons stunned, not knowing what would happen next.

Kiros knew.

He slowly turned, smiled, and fired his cannon. The intense surge of water erupted instantly. Pushing most of the first victorious climbers off the top of the mound back to the ditch below with some being impaled by the deadly sharp pikes set at the bottom. His cannon had not been especially useful against the ants near the bottom, but now at such short range. It was devastating.

The highly pressurized water jets continued sweeping the raiders off their feet. Easily shredding the exoskeletons from their flesh as the surge pushed every insect back violently. Normally this type of weapon was of a weaker non lethal-caliber used for firefighting or crowd control on riots back home.

But at times, there were exceptions.

Vesa, wounded and shaking tried to thank her rescuer. But before a single word of gratitude could escape her mouth. Kiros titanic arm grabbed onto her small webbed hand to help her on to her feet. Smiling affectionately down at her as if well aware of what she was thinking.

"You can thank me after the battle child, keep firing!" His loud but gentle voice boomed. His tone similar to that of an overly enthusiastic and loving grandpa. The giant then slowly raised his hefty burdensome weapon back around and continued sweeping the stream of water left and right repeatedly. Repelling the increasing numbers of warriors as they appeared hastily over the top. Vesa nodded and winced in pain. Strenuously reloading her pistol with one of her last remaining clips. The young medic then made sure the injured raider crawling away on the ground that had just tried to kill her, wouldn't be a problem for anyone else anymore.

She raised her gun and shot the warrior dead with just one bolt to the head, being careful to conserve precious ammo and not get carried away with foolish petty rage. Vesa limped closer toward the barricade to rejoin the fight and to defend her colossal stationary protector. Firing at three more bugs as they approached to the left of Kiros in quick succession. Killing them instantly and covering his side from danger. That's two he owed her, but she didn't care. She was just happy to help like always.

Everyone continued in the chaotic defense, with each soldier having hardly a second to breath. Dispatching one army ant after another with intense concentration. All of Shena's men were performing perfectly as expected, but it was not enough.

It did not seem to matter how skilled everyone was. For as each bug died, two more seemed to take its place out of nowhere from the endless mob below. With each insect waiting impatiently for their turn to join their siblings in the unified climb upward to victory. Even Kiro's with his powerful weapon was having trouble in repelling the hordes of determined raiders as they reached the top in larger groups one after another. The old turtle slowly began to back away from the edge of the mound, but only slightly. He was hellbent on staying in front at the center in order to make himself the tantalizing focus of the ants rage and not his more fragile allies. He could take more punishment. They couldn't. That was all there was to it in his decision to stay head long into the fray as the prime quarry for the insects assaults.

The final wave of the beleaguered raiding swarm was now just meters from the platoon. By Shena's estimates they still had another six hundred to go who had now reached the top on level ground with them.

Which was becoming crowded quickly.....