The War caused so much devastation, so much destruction. Lives were lost, homes obliterated, but still the Union fought on, still the people did what they could to preserve what little they had. The north was hit first, and it was hit hard. Creatures came out of the darkness, and from a distance one could swear they where human. It was not so, these where not travellers from uncharted lands; these where monsters, nightmares that appeared unstoppable, innumerable. In the beginning nothing could stand against them.
The days of fear turned into weeks of terror, as those who made their homes in the east of the Union fled towards Greenwood, flanked by the scarlet faces of the Red Wing Tribe, Falket who had made an Oath to the people: Protect the refugees, and all in need, until the last. These protectors fell to the Swarm in great numbers during those first scrambling, terrified assaults, but the Red Wing were not small. They were not stupid. The faces of their comrades would reappear in battle, but this time they would not be wearing the proud red of the tribe; their faces were blanched, their wounds festering, their eyes dead. It did not take long for the Red Wing to take the time to burn their fallen, or to remove and destroy the heads of their lost beloved.
These weeks of terror continued, until all concept of time became nothing but a hindrance on the journey of these people and their protectors. They cut across country avoiding all main settlements and thus the Swarm as much as possible, following the directions of their Seer. The Red Wings ranks swelled, as those under their protection who where fit and able willingly added to their strength. With one cold dawn came their first sighting of salvation; the Free Trade Union Listening Outpost Bravo Five. The building was long and low, and melted almost completely into the woodland surrounding it, but there were all the telltale signs of life. Smoke from fires, the barking of war hounds, and the smell of fear. Before this moment hope had been an alien concept.
It was almost a full week before the creatures caught up with them, more than enough time for the travellers to find safe haven within Greenwood, barely two miles away from Station Bravo Five. The Red Wing set up camp, watching and waiting for the inevitable onslaught, and like the breaking of a wave it was on them, surrounding them, only the battle cries of the Trade Enforcement Squad to give warning. But they were prepared.
This was the first battle of the Swarm War .
The Red Wing, bound by their Oath to protect the people, had split into several small groups and positioned themselves in the area surrounding Station Bravo Five, their eyes keenly searching for the towering figures of Seekers. Their mission was to find these creatures and lure them over the flat field that they had first seen the Station from, where they would be greeted by the hard work of the Unions explosives experts... a network of mines, caltrops, and tripwires.
The explosions were terrible and fantastic. With each detonation scores of Blight Corpses were torn apart and littered across the land, but it was not enough. The field was soon exhausted, and the Falket had to do what they could to draw the creatures closer to Station. This was not easy. Many lost their lives; the Red Wings numbers were halved and then halved again as the creatures tore at them with ferocity and coordination previously unseen. After what seemed like an era, the last of their numbers retreated to relative safety, behind a line of fresh faced Trade Enforcer Squads.
It was then that the fighting started.
No one knows the particulars of this first real conflict against the Swarm. The Falket were either dead or regrouping behind the fortifications of Greenwood. There were no FTU men or women left standing to tell the tales. The sounds of gunfire, inhuman and very human screeching, were carried on the wind to the settlement. The Day of Thunder went on for hours, and as quickly as the onslaught arrived did the sound of war cease.
A day went by. Nothing living or dead was seen on the road to Greenwood, and so the Red Wing hesitantly left the comforts of the town, quietly picking their way towards Station Bravo Five. As they neared the site they found trees upended, and hunks of meat strewn across the ground. Nothing stirred. Death had claimed this place.
The station is now a place of pilgrimage for Aristoc Officers, to pay tribute to those brave souls who gave their lives so that others could live, and to celebrate the creation of the Falket Bait teams, and the sacrifices those people made in their courageousness. Patrols are encouraged in and around Station Bravo Five to this day, as the sheer number of souls lost there is believed to attract Blight Corpses.