Dawn would soon be upon them and with it, a horrific fight would ride until the bitter end. The Luiteneant beside her, a recruit with a face splattered in a mess of dirt and grime, clenched a strong rifle in his grasp. He looked at Baquil for guidance before turning back at his position at the wall, his iron sights firmly fixed on the plains.

Finally, an impenetrable silence was cast about them all, every twitch, every trickle, every snip bit of sound to be heard as if it shook the planet with tenacity, the seconds drew out to minutes and minutes felt like hours. At last, the horrified yet defiant troops of the collective all glanced across the horizon to see their fate, the sun shimmered out from behind the faraway mountains, a glow caressing the snow-tipped rock. Slowly but surely the sky warmed and clouds hazed in red. A collective sharpshooter, prone in the mud, averted his gaze from their rifle scope, the rays of light blinding their eyes from the battlefield in front.

It was the glow of death, a sign that soon they would be cascaded into a fight of brutal and macabre quantity, they would subdue themselves to a higher power. The valiant hearts focused their affirmative faces of pure hatred and spite on the torrential waves of attacks that were about to throw themselves upon the barrage and battery of death emitted from the corps' guns.

You could not call the natives savages nor say they were demons descending upon a noble legion of bravery, they were honourable in this situation, they were good, and the bad lay behind the trenches. The bad were those about to die.

The attacking armada was one of an immense noble cause, their villages and towns had been pillaged and ransacked without mercy, their culture spat upon with unimaginable cruelty and their peaceful people mercilessly slaughtered by a foe who thought themselves superior in every way. Medieval weaponry facing off against the might of planet killers.

It was those who lined the mud-baked trench who were truly evil, maybe not themselves, but what they stood for, I doubt they truly knew, comprehended the sheer quantity of blood splattered on the tattered twilight banner they stood behind yet that is a story for another time.

The moment a sliver of the sun blinded the eyes of the sharpshooters, a great war cry echoed as would a ferocious animal, booming throughout the plains. It sent shivers down the spines of all the soldiers who stood in the army's path, and you could see thousands charge forward, they swarmed out from the hills and burrows, disguised during the night, plate mail reflecting in the light. Legions marched lobing spears and brandishing stolen guns.

The raving enemy rushed forward with a burning desire to kill. It was a hoard so massive, so magnificent the ground shook and rumbled with awe. Four legion machine encampments opened fire releasing a piercing barrage into the enemy. Smoke swirled in the air as the mighty guns pounded the ground into a fine pulp.

The collective legionaries fired into the outside, with a tenacious grit, unleashing a never-ending inferno of bullets, and as they fired into the sunbaked reptilian, they saw their comrades perish one by one to the hearty shaft of a native spear, as they saw the blood of their enemies splatter upon their pale half-covered faces, saw their armour sizzle with the fire of overheated blasters and felt a shower of sweat dribble down their faces Baquil walked among them shouting orders and rushing into the heat of the battle.

They could tell she was no longer preaching the hollow syllables taught by the societies generals, she was speaking from her heart, she roared a harrowing speech of death as she dual-wielded two assault rifles, standing upon piles of bodies both alien and her own troops, there were so many bodies the barbed wire had been rendered useless, the attackers simply walking upon the still-warm flesh of the rotting corpses.

A Sergeant in the front trench, face splattered in enemy blood clenched down on his rifle, mustering every inch of his might to continue a relentless barrage. With every sweep, he killed hundreds, piercing through their ranks as he fumbled to reload. Suddenly, a whistle pierced the air, as a missile planted itself into the ground infront detonating with a sizable explosion. Mud soared through the air as four warriors armed with spears poured inside. The gunners behind caught two in one sweep however the rest crumbled through taking over on the opposite wall. An intruder cast its spear, the weapon streaking through the air to plant itself into a gunner's chest. He ran forward to his aid, arm outstretched but soon fell back. Seeing the man beside him killed the Sargent scrambled dropping his rifle into the mulch and pulling out his pistol in retaliation.

Looking down the smoke-ridden trench he could see more of his friends fall, for, with each sweep of the encampments above, ten still made it across. He blasted the warrior in front, tearing through the thin plate mail and leaving the froglike creature to fly back. Yet a second came forward in retaliation, snarling it leapt at his chest, striking the durasteel armour with a resounding blow. Arms flailing and pinned to the wall the soldier struggled, gasping for breath as the enemy continued to pound his breastplate. Using the pistol still clutched in his hand, he open fire down the corridor, shooting at the three warriors approaching to aid his attacker. Charred smoke rose from their chests as the enemy soldier heaved the tool above and crashed it down upon his helmet, splintering the metal in two. Armour flew off as glass shards sprayed across the ground, his head poked out of the suit, exposed to the horrors above. The creature was just about to land a killing blow, when he swung his arm forward, using the plating as a shield.

Wires sprouted from his hand's steel plating as sparks flew. Seizing this moment of confusion he pulled out his own knife plunging it deep into the warrior's thin chainmail and twisting upwards. Leaving the enemy shrieking in agony, he dropped to his knees, crawling through the mud to avoid detection by the hundreds of Aurumians which now inhabited the lines. He squirmed through the countless bodies, navigating through the field of war. He was just about to lean back against a concrete barrier when a foot pressed down against his back pressing him into the mud. Fear glazed across his eyes. He turned his head, time slowing as he drew breath. An Aurumian knight drew his crooked blade, armour plastered in a mixture of blood and dirt as he raised his arms above his head shrieking.

Above an encampment gunner, continued their barrage, bullets spurring into the dirt and causing the air to warp from the heat of their energy. Countless spent shells spewed from the gun, carpeting the gunner's feet to the point they were almost knee high. Yet as they finished a second sweep, ten warriors caught in a single blow, a sharp clang resounded.

A charge deflected off the thick armour, causing the private to tumble back. He brushed it off, continuing to keep pressure on the countless enemies now taking cover behind the front trenches think wall. However, a second one was pierced. the air, then a third, each blow, punching into his armour, slowly pounding the steel into submission. His loader aimed in the direction of the shots, emptying a magazine into the air, but it was too late, four more shots streaked across the sky, slamming into the gunner and leaving him face down in the mud. His loader jumped onto the encampment and cleared the magazine, ready to take the post but it was too late. Twenty warriors had already charged, sprinting through the barbed wire and towards his position. Swinging the massive gun, he managed to knock one of its feet, causing its sword to fly through the air and plant itself into the ground.

The other two tackled him, forcing him into the mud while they battered his arm plate with maces. The loader cried out in concussed pain as he scrambled for his pistol, killing both with what remained of his magazine. The bullets easily pierced through their chainmail, leaving embers of steel to float downwards into the mulchy surface. Sliding backwards he pulled out his knife and clicked on the side, engaging the energy blade just in time to parry the blow from an Aurumian longsword. The blade clanged against his own, slowly melting away from the immense heat as it inched closer. Sparks flew in all directions as he stared into the eyes of his killer.

Those in the front trench had been massacred, overpowered by an advancing force of ten thousand to twenty they had perished with honour, taking down at least nine hundred of their attackers in demonic strife. Back at the safety of the second trench, a lieutenant turned to Baquil uttering a string of words between reloading. He stood upon the corpse of an Aurumian soldier, plate mail, melted by a concussion blast. Two more Aurumians broke through the suppressing fire and charged the lieutenant, stolen blasters and shortswords in hand.

Stepping to the side the Luitenant dodged the first swing, grabbing the hilt of his attacker's sword and prying it from their hand while he repeatedly blasted the other. The warrior fought back, shooting three times at the soldier's leg as it squirmed. However, Baquil turned to her companion, plunging her own bayonet through the enemy's helmet and into its skull. Leaving the body to fall limp. The Luitenant swore while sticking a needle into his wound, blood seeping from the burn.

"We need to fall back to the third trench" she cried.

Turning to blast another longsword-wielding warrior who had sprung up from behind, Baquil shot a flare up into the air. Its immense red glow filled the clouds above and illuminated the red dawn. Green blood, ran like a river through the endless muck as they trudged, taking cover behind the third trenches think mudden walls.

"I'm hit I think my leg is toast" he shouted as he kept his hand pressed against the newly formed foam bandage..

She ran back, propping him on her shoulder and helping him towards the corner wall.

“Colonel, do you think we are going to live?” he asked.

A second swordsman sprinted up the tunnel, cracking the duckboards beneath his feet. Throwing himself upon Baquil he attempted to stab at her uniform, tearing into the fabric and causing mud to spurt up into the air.

Baquil slammed the opponent's head, using her own gauntleted hand to knock them off. Stepping on the soldier's hand, she kept his weapon pressed against the ground as she repeatedly pummeled his chest. The warrior fought back, swinging his leg and kicking her backward into the dirt. Baquil cried out in pain, a rib-cracking from the injury. The lieutenant sprang forward, using the butt of his rifle to bash the enemy's skull, he swung repeatedly, leaving no mercy with his strikes, eventually, the creature sank back as blood pooled from its green mouth, lifeless eyes gazing into the sky above.

Dragging Baquil further behind the encampments he lay back against the wall while she stuck a thin needle into her chest. Her front plate was already expanding, foam beginning to pressurize and treat the wound.

"Ever wonder how many times your armours saved you Vanol?" she breathed.

"I try not to think about it" he responded wheezing.

The forward trench had completely fallen, and a Collective private was overwhelmed by the onslaught repeatedly being pummeled by a longsword. With each strike, he was further driven into the ground until the armour cracked and he was no more.

Baquil coughed for a moment, a trickle of blood spouting from her lips.

“I will see fit that we make it out, both of us no matter what the cost” she replied.

“I hope you're right” he roared, firing into an approaching spearman.

"I guess maybe I'll be eligible for retirement after this" he laughed.

Baquil stood up slowly, using a rifle to prop herself up.

"You've got a good year left in you Luitenant" she replied.

They turned to see one more advancing enemy, gunfire from the machine nests behind, spraying the ground infront.

The spearman roared in anger, letting loose a horrific screech as it fell to the ground. Behind, several more aliens advanced distraught by the death of their comrade they too charged to meet the same fate.

The second trench was about to fall, only three soldiers left when the Colonel finally hobbled forward.

“Cover me!” she barked.

"You're crazy" he shouted back as bullets whizzed past.

Descending into the mud she used the broadside of bullets from her officers to rush through the trenches and sit at the front line, and from there she shouted, her voice booming over the sound of gunfire, slicing into the minds of the troop which were about to lay down the line.

“Fight!, Fight!, To hell with them, show them what we're made of, show them the true meaning of a collective infantry corpse, think of their faces, all of those you knew and loved, think of all the friends and comrades that have perished to their fowl blades, shall we let their sacrifices be for nothing, shall we let the pools of Collective blood which have been split simply fade into the perilous sand, I say we fight, rally on me.

If we are to die today, then let it be remembered that we fought with such valour and honour the sands of time will grawp at our wartorn feat, tonight we dine in hell but today, today we stare defiantly in the harrowing face of death!” She screeched, and those around her followed, they understood and they believed, believed in the potent motivator of revenge and they fought, they fought, they stabbed and shot and howled, carried on for their fallen brethren, to honour the souls of the countless dead which lined the walls.

Four more Aurumians carrying tower shields barged forward, thin daggers in hand, Baquil fired repeatedly, each blast splintering the wood and causing the soldiers to fly backward. Particles strew through the air as their armour shredded in the hot wind. An assault trooper was overpowered, caught by a stray artillery shell and pinned to the ground. Lying in the muck he drew his pistol, blasting two footmen and tossing their limp bodies aside before a pikeman came forward, thrusting a spear through his thin armour and pinning him to the ground. The trooper fired, the blast whizzing through the pike's helmet and shattering their helmet in half. As he lay there bleeding, shots spraying into the horde in front the Aurumians continued their advance.

However for every single collective soldier that was struck down, the resilient heart of their fellows increased tenfold, and for every soldier killed the more ferocious they became, in the end, they were monsters, terrifying beasts of war that slew and shot without hesitation, they had reached a point where nothing mattered more, they had no care for their lives, they had motive, a motive to kill, a motive to destroy.