Leonard watched as the first line of trenches slowly became overrun. In a close ranged engagement the PDF stood little chance. However pockets of resistance in fortified bunkers and pillboxes significantly slowed down the advance of the Swarm, letting those behind continually whittle down their numbers as much as they could.
"Has there been any sign of the Swarm Lord yet?" He asked Arming. His second in command was still linked into the communications network, although even he had to pull back on his access, the constant calls for aid all throughout the first line of trenches flooded the channels.
"Nothing yet sir" Arming pulled his eyes away from the last units being overrun.
"Keep an eye out for it." He said simply instead. His nerves might have been getting the better of him he would freely admit. But all the waiting had him wound up tight, ready to pounce the moment the time might arise.
Up ahead the battle raged in earnest, there was a large distance to cover between the first and second trench lines. All the land in between covered in ditches, mines and thick layers of razor wire. This trench had originally been the main defence of the section, the trench ahead only being added later to bolster the depth of their defence.
Its lines were reinforced with large concrete pillboxes every 100 metres, with a large contingent of tanks and field guns forming up behind. The only weak points of this considerable defence were the few communication trenches dug to connect this trench with the newly formed 1st trench ahead.
It was through these trenches that Private Issac Hower was making his escape. It was surprisingly sparse of fleeing soldiers, however the closer he got to the second line the more people he came across.
It made sense in a way, those who wanted to flee would have done so long before, Issac must have been one of the last, any trying to after him likely getting blocked off as the Swarm quickly filled the trenches.
Though he wasn't fleeing, he often lied to himself, he was fulfilling an important mission delivering information to command from the frontlines. The commander's badge was his saving grace, hopefully anyway, letting pass the checkpoint up ahead.
It came into view quickly as Issac rounded the last zig in the constantly zagging trench line, a large reinforced bunker cut the trench off, only a small, heavily reinforced metal door leading further in. It was blocked off by a group of soldiers, 10 of them each dressed strikingly different to the mass of PDF huddled in front.
An arbitrary line had formed, where the growing mass of PDF troops stopped and the soldiers stood, the empty ground between littered with lifeless bodies, likely shot before they could get close.
"You gotta let us through!"
"We're going to die out here! Let us in!"
"There are more of us than them. Let's just rush them!"
The gathered group of PDF soldiers constantly bickered and begged to be let through. Some extreme opinions of rushing through the soldiers were brought up, but this was a group of fleeing cowards, none of them would take the first step and risk certain death.
Issac almost shook his head at the pathetic display. The sight of these men was strikingly different from the valorous captain he had left behind, he couldn't help but feel ashamed that he was once, and in many cases still is, exactly like this group of people gathered before him.
He went to push through the crowd and make his way to the checkpoint, but an arm reached out and stopped him.
"Young man, don't go any further," the woman that grabbed him looked ragged, much older than Issac but still displaying the same rank of private on her shoulder. "Those soldiers up there won't hesitate to shoot you."
She looked scared, shivering despite the intense heat from the desert sun beating down from above. Her eyes darted around at every sound, her body tensed up like a spring about to burst.
"I have orders to deliver a message," Issac pulled out the major's badge and the woman's eyes locked onto it instantly. She almost went to lunge for it before Issac quickly put it back in his pocket.
"Y-you mean we have orders right?" She grabbed his shoulders, face manic with the possibility of being let through the checkpoint. "We are both delivering this message right?"
"I.. ah.." Issac didn't know how to respond, the woman pushed forward, pinning him against the sheer earthen wall of the trench. "I don't know about that."
She was almost drooling, the all encompassing fear and terror she felt seeming to wash away with a brief sight of possible rope to help her climb out of this grave.
"Hahaha don't be silly.. Y-you must have hit your head private! Why else would you be forgetting something like that? Why don't you give that to me? I can go and talk to the soldiers for you."
She grabbed at his pocket, but Issac pushed away, rolling to the side and jumping back. He pulled up his rifle and pointed it at the stumbling woman.
"I have my orders!" Their confrontation had drawn attention from the surrounding soldiers, even the military guards took notice, more due to the fact he drew his gun than anything else. "Don't try that again."
The woman froze in front of the gun barrel, hands raised in surrender. Issac slowly backed away, the other PDF soldiers stepping out of his way.
"Halt!" A military soldier called out, they were dressed in heavy metal power armour, his metal foot thumping the ground as he stepped out in warning.
Power armour was a fairly new creation, made by a controversial designer that simply tried to scale down a mech to the size of a human body. It was extremely expensive to manufacture however, and the sheer amount of power the suit guzzled to assist the wearer in moving its metal frame required rare high class batteries with constant recharging.
It did however grant the wearer eminence protection, and the ability to field much more powerful weapons. But the cost in maintaining a single set of power armour meant that most Military units let alone PDF often stuck to more simple flak armour. Or in Issac's case, no armour at all.
"I have orders from Major Mayne." He lowered the gun and raised his hands, holding out the majors badge for them to see. "I am to deliver a message to command."
The soldier paused, turning slightly to commune with what Issac assumed to be his commanding officer. He couldn't hear their conversation however, the full faced metal helmets obscuring any words that they didn't want anyone else to hear.
"What is the nature of the message?" The soldier turned back and asked, making Issac freeze. He couldn't very well say that it was a message to the late commander's wife and kids, they would just take it off him and have it sent themselves.
"I'm afraid I can't tell you that sir." Issac bluffed, trying his best to keep his face steady. The soldier clearly wasn't a fan of his answer, the grip on his gun tightening and its barrel raising slightly.
"Then leave the message with us, we will deliver it personally." The soldier left no room for negotiation. Issac felt trapped, but he had already come this far, might as well see it through to the end.
"I have orders to deliver this personally!" Issac continued his charade, his life depended on it after all. "My orders are quite clear!"
The soldier went to speak again, clearly growing more agitated the more, in his eyes, a mere PDF private was questioning his authority. But before he could speak another voice rang out.
"Very well." A woman's voice spoke up, the previous soldier quickly lowering his gun and stepping aside. "We will let you through."
Issac almost jumped with joy, almost. He still had to keep up appearances after all. He quickly marched across the makeshift no man's land towards the power armoured soldiers, trying his best not to step on the bodies in the way.
The soldiers reluctantly made way for him, but just as he was to make it through the open bunker door a large metal hand clamped down on his shoulder.
"You're still years too young to fool me kid." The female captain spoke. "But at least you have some balls, and that's far more than could be said about this lot. I'll radio ahead, make sure to deliver your 'message' properly."
Issac's face broke when he heard his act was seen through. However he was still given the go ahead to leave, and so quickly thanked the captain before all but running through the open door.
"Are you sure it was a good idea to let him go ma'am?" An armoured soldier to the captain's side asked. "If the general finds out-"
"Please. The general won't care about us letting through one snot nosed brat. We're only here to stop these cowards causing a rout by running through our defensive lines." The sounds of battle quickly grew closer, a single Swarm ant cresting around the corner causing the gathered PDF to scream out in panic. "Besides, our job here is done. Let's pull out men."
The power armoured soldiers quickly filed through the open bunker door, something the PDF soldiers didn't miss.
"They're running away!"
"Quick chase after them!"
"Run! The Swarm is here!"
The ragtag group of deserters quickly ran towards the soldiers, stampeding over the corpses of their fallen brothers. The soldiers themselves had to exit single file, their armour suits almost being too big to fit through the door.
"Mark," the captain sighed. "Get rid of them."
The man in question stepped forward, positioned at the back of the pack for a reason. He pulled up a large flamer, tubes running from the gun to a pair of fuel tanks on his back. The flamer burst into life, a blazing stream of fire instantly scorching those it touched. The walls of the trench acting as a funnel, pushing the flames further and further down until even the lone Swarmling was affected.
"Skreeee!!" It wallowed in pain, the flame instantly melting through its hide and burning away its flesh. Mark let go of the trigger, the smouldering wasteland left in his wake leaving nothing alive. He quickly turned around and ran through into the bunker, its heavy metal door slamming shut quickly after, condemning any that still remained beyond to certain death.