The Chronicles of Swarm: The Equestrian Front

by kildeez


Chapter XXXVIII: Revelations

“Keep fighting, dammit! It’s only the first wave!” Vance screamed, ducking out from behind the APC to take a few extra shots. Next to him, Miller grabbed an extra magazine for his M4 as the Bradley unleashed another volley, the deafening shots joining the clamor of battle. He ducked out again, watching another wave of men throw themselves out of the woods and against their sandbag fortifications, their tattered, hand-me-down uniforms and rusted weapons revealing just how expendable they were to their commanders.

“Send a few conscripts to get a feel for the enemy’s defenses, then use that intel for a more coordinated attack,” Vance mumbled, interrupting himself by ducking out from behind their Bradley and sending a few more rounds downrange. “Nice t’know The Ridchir hasn’t changed their tactics since Hong Kong.”

“I think at this point in the battle, you can go ahead and call ‘em what they are,” Vance said with a grim smile, barely making himself heard over the near-constant roar of the machine gun nests at either side.

“And what’s that? Assholes?”

“What…you mean they didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me…” Miller paused at the sight of the machine gun just to his left suddenly jamming, the Marine manning it struggling just as a pair of enemy tangoes ducked out from behind a low wall outside the emplacement. “Ugh…hold on…” he started, taking a running leap, tucking and rolling right off the barricade, popping up next to the tangoes, and mowing them down with a single well-placed burst of assault rifle fire. As both dropped, he promptly vaulted the sandbags and ducked back behind the APC, rubbing his shoulder.

“That shit gets harder every time I try it,” he grumbled. “Damn chiropractor’s no help at all!”

“You’re gettin’ old, friend. Might be time for a cushy desk job,” Vance replied.

“What, like yours?”

“You wish,” Vance replied as he took a few tentative steps away from the APC. Smoke drifted off the barrel of his weapon as he surveyed the scene of utter carnage before him. Bodies of men in tattered uniforms, barely armed with pistols and machetes, were practically heaped up just outside their barricade. He grimaced. He absolutely hated this, just mowing down a bunch of guys who could barely protect themselves, but it was part of the job. He needed to do this or risk losing his own men.

At least, that’s what he’d tell himself when this was all over and he was lying in his bed at home.

“Not bad,” Miller said, striding out next to him, his eyes on the bullet-riddled, pastel-colored buildings behind the barricades. “We didn’t lose nearly as many guys as the Chinese did when this shit hit them.”

“And we did it all without tilting our hand,” Vance said, smiling as he lifted his walkie to his lips. “Alright boys, it’s time to come out and play!”

Suddenly, a small army of men appeared at the windows of every building, some setting up sniper positions, others rappelling down to join the few already behind the barricades. Men rushed to the Marine’s sides, checking ammo belts and assault rifles as they ran to their positions. Soon, the Americans’ numbers swelled into the hundreds, all ready to kick ass. There was just one thing bothering the old Marine…

He grabbed the walkie again. “Parker! I need a SITREP on the evacuation of the civvies!”

A few seconds later, the Lieutenant’s voice crackled back: “Progressing quickly, sir! We’ve enlisted local help in tearing down the MASH, so I should be reporting to you in a jiffy!”

“Excellent news, son! Make sure y’do,” Vance replaced his walkie in his pocket as Miller shook his head.

“’In a jiffy?’ Who the fuck says that?” The SEAL asked.

“Parker does, that’s who,” Vance replied with a knowing grin.

“Anyway, you were saying? About the enemy?”

“Hmm? Ah, yeah, you were asking what they really were, well…”

“Sirs?” One of the marines ran up to the Lieutenants and saluted, his eyes wide as if he’d just seen a ghost.

“Yes, private?” Miller asked impatiently.

“You better come see this, it’s the enemy.”

The pair was led away to the sandbag wall, where they peeked over to watch as a massive crimson banner rose over the trees in front of them. “Those arrogant sons-a-bitches,” Vance mumbled as a hauntingly familiar symbol unfurled in the wind.


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Author's note: this speech has a soundtrack!

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Mars surveyed the American positions through his goggles and grinned, listening to the glorious sounds of his men at work: the roar of tanks rumbling forward, the squeal of metal against metal as artillery was calibrated and aimed, and the deep rumble of guns firing in the distance. Of course, the loss of the conscripts was to be expected, such was war. The real fight would be coming soon.

“{If the fools had any idea what was coming, they would turn and run!}” His newest Second-In-Command said, interrupting his thoughts.

Mars grimaced at yet another interruption. He was already beginning to regret smashing the back of Fischer’s head open; at least he had known to speak only when spoken to. Still, he let this slide. The man would learn his place eventually, which couldn’t happen if Mars tore his head off and kept it alive just long enough to watch his body’s death spasms. “{Perhaps, or perhaps not. It’s not your job to worry about if they run, though, it’s your job to worry about if they fight.}” He said, pulling his goggles off and eyeing his Second. “{You already understood this, though, didn’t you?}”

“{O-of course, sir!}” The man said, the memory of what had happened to his predecessor playing out in his fear-filled eyes.

“{I thought so,}” Mars returned to his thoughts, his eyes scanning the enemy’s front lines. They were mildly impressive, he had to admit. He probably should have bought more men. But then, the hard-fought victory was the sweeter one, so at least this gave him something to look forward to.

“{Sir?}” A new man arrived and saluted. “{The men are awaiting their final orders.}”

“{Ah yes,}” Mars said, handing his binoculars over to his Second before stepping away from the barricade. “{My favorite part: where I get to see all the pieces about to enter play.}”

He climbed up into the back of a cargo truck and raised his hands for attention. Every man around him quieted immediately, awaiting his next word. It took all his strength to keep the grin from re-entering his face. “{COMRADES!}” He bellowed, and every man stood at attention. Goddamn it was good to be leader! “{Men of the homeland! For many years, I have watched you grow as a pure race, free of the contaminants and weaknesses plaguing other worlds!}”

The men grunted their approval, a few “here, here’s” rising from the crowd.

“{For years, your civilization has grown, free of that filth, free of illness of the blood and of the mind, free of weakness, and most of all,}” he gestured towards the American lines, “{free of those who wished to oppress and hold you back!}”

This time, the crowd let loose with a rising cheer, quite a bit louder than the last.

“{But, we have just learned that this is not true for everyone everywhere,}” Mars glowered, actual hatred blazing in his eyes. “{Our enemies, the cockroaches that they are, have found a way to live on, to dominate and continue to corrupt the human race with their impure blood and twisted souls, gathering what little strength they can.}”

A choir of boos rose from the crowd, which Mars silenced with a raised hand. “{Yet as our fathers have before us, we now have the chance to right this wrong. Once again, we have the chance to rip out the disease that has plagued mankind since its genesis, and cast off the shackles of those who would seek to bind our strength! Once again, we have the chance to prove that might makes right, and as our fathers did before us, we shall do so beneath our flag! No more hiding! No more games! For once again, we will show the oppressors and weaklings what true strength looks like! Once again, we will show them the might of THE RIDCHIR!}”

The men gasped in anticipation as a crimson flag appeared behind Mars’ body, his visage standing at the heart of a gigantic black swastika against a field of white and red. “{Once again, we shall show them the might of the THIRD REICH!}”

“HEIL!” He saluted, his arm rising, fingers extended in the fascist salute.

“SIEG HEIL!” The crowd roared, their own arms rising in response.

Das Untermensch wird brennen!

Die luft füllt sich mit den schreien der Untermensch!

“{Now, get to your tanks! Your vehicles! Take up your arms and show the strength and courage your fathers knew those many years ago, back when this enemy first reared its malformed, corrupted head!}”

The men scurried, working, gathering their arms, cleaning their weapons, and loading artillery cannons onto trucks. Mars grinned again. For all their power, he mused, even the men of The Reich look like ants scurrying about when they set to work. How fitting.


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“Well, I’ll be damned,” Miller added coolly, changing the magazine in his weapon for a fresh one. “Nazis.”

“Didn’t we already beat these guys, like, a hundred years ago?” One of the marines next to him asked as the Americans all stared wide-eyed at the banner standing tall over the forest.

“Yeah, well apparently some of ‘em didn’t get the message,” Vance replied, grabbing the walkie again. “Parker! I need you to hurry with the evacuation down there; we need all hands on deck right now!”

“Yes sir!” The Lieutenant’s voice crackled back.

“As for the rest of you,” Vance said, rising to his feet. Every soldier quieted as he stepped amongst them, surveying each and every one of their faces. He took a few deep breaths and thought, searching for the words to inspire his men to fight. He didn’t have to search long.

“Men…” he continued, leaning against an APC. He pulled out his canteen, took a swig of water, and began:

“There is the enemy,” he gestured towards the forest. “You know what t’do. Give ‘em hell!”

“OORAH! HOOYAH!” The men screamed, all immediately setting to their duties, each running into place with a determination in their eyes that made Vance swell with pride.

“I love this job sometimes,” he mumbled, looking back and glaring at the crimson banner unfurling in the wind.


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*The sub-human will burn!

**The air fills with the cries of the sub-human!
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Note: The Third Reich was the name given to Germany following the rise of the Nazi Party: "Reich" meaning "Empire" in German. The First Reich, which the Nazis respected as the first truly German Empire, was the Holy Roman Empire, which dominated most of Central Europe in the High Middle Ages and Renaissance periods. Nazi Policy refers to the reunified German Empire of the Nineteenth and Twentieth centuries as the Second Reich, which declined following Germany's defeat in WWI.

There, now you're smarter. Also, W00T! Been waiting for this reveal for a while! Although, some of you might have guessed it a while back, but it's still nice that it's out there :)

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