Motherfucking Xenos

Colonel Samuel Leroy Jaxsen stood at the command center of the Planetary Defense Force headquarters, his enhanced eyes darting between holographic displays and the chaos unfolding outside. The once-pristine city of Calligar Alpha now resembled a war-torn hellscape, with the chittering hordes of Q'orl swarming through its streets.

"Grim, give me a sitrep on these motherfucking bugs," Jaxsen barked, his gravelly voice cutting through the din of the command center.

The AI's calm, modulated tones contrasted sharply with the Colonel's gruff demeanor. "Certainly, Colonel. The Q'orl forces consist primarily of three unit types. First, we have the standard drones, which appear to be primarily focused on resource gathering and prisoner capture."

Jaxsen snorted. "Yeah, I've seen those bastards. All grabby hands and weird probes. Remind me of those damn Tyranids, but without the style."

"Indeed, Colonel," Grim continued, unperturbed. "The backbone of their forces consists of Warrior Drones. These units are heavily armored and equipped with energy weapons or close-combat appendages. They've shown the ability to deliver chemical attacks as well."

"Chemical attacks? Fantastic," Jaxsen muttered, rubbing his temple. "What else you got for me, Grim?"

"The third notable unit type has been designated as 'Tunneling Beetles' by our forces. These units are specialized for subterranean operations, capable of creating extensive tunnel networks and emerging unexpectedly behind our lines."

Jaxsen's eyes narrowed. "Like the ones that popped up in the Governor's Palace? Sneaky bastards."

"Correct, Colonel. It's worth noting that the Q'orl have demonstrated a remarkable ability to adapt and copy technology. Our analysts have observed signs of them replicating our plasma weaponry."

"Great, just what we need. Bugs with plasma guns," Jaxsen growled. He paused, a distant memory surfacing. "You know, Grim, these Q'orl remind me of a bitch version of the Tyranids. I was there when Primarch Franklin and the Emperor cleansed the sector of those Ouroboris freaks. At least the Tyranids had the decency to come at us head-on."

As if on cue, Rear Admiral Richard Gomez strode into the command center, his naval uniform immaculate despite the chaos outside. "Colonel Jaxsen, sitrep?"

Jaxsen turned to face the newcomer, a grim smile on his scarred face. "Admiral, welcome to the shit show. We're holding, but barely. These Q'orl are like cockroaches on steroids. You take out one, and ten more pop up from the ground."

Gomez nodded, his expression grave. "The void battle isn't going much better. We're outnumbered, but holding our own. The Dominance is keeping mobile to avoid being overrun."

"Smart move," Jaxsen agreed. "Last thing we need is those bugs getting their claws on our flagship. How's the evacuation going?"

"As well as can be expected," Gomez replied. "The Liberty Guardsmen are doing an admirable job getting civilians to safety, but it's slow going with the Q'orl popping up everywhere."

Jaxsen grunted in acknowledgment. "We're lucky they're not as focused on aerial combat. Our flyboys are having a field day, turning bug clusters into barbecue with their promethium runs."

Gomez allowed himself a small smile. "As it should be. We've got the best tech and the shiniest guns in the galaxy. Speaking of which, I need to get back to the fleet. Mind if I borrow your lander?"

"Be my guest," Jaxsen said, gesturing towards the landing pad. "Just don't scratch the paint. I just had it waxed."

The two men shared a brief chuckle, a moment of levity in the midst of chaos. As they made their way to the landing pad, the sounds of battle grew louder. Explosions rocked the city, and the sky was filled with the crisscrossing trails of aircraft and anti-air fire.

"Good luck down here, Colonel," Gomez said, extending his hand. "Give 'em hell."

Jaxsen clasped the Admiral's hand firmly. "You too, Richard. Try not to let those bugs put too many holes in my ships."

As Gomez boarded the lander, Jaxsen stood watch, his enhanced vision tracking the craft as it ascended into the war-torn skies. A squadron of fighters fell into formation around it, providing escort as it climbed towards orbit.

Just as the lander disappeared from view, a massive explosion rocked the eastern part of the city. Jaxsen whirled around, his augmented eyes zooming in on the source of the disturbance.

"Motherfucker," he growled, watching as a colossal Q'orl, easily twice the size of the others, emerged from the smoking ruins of the Eastern Gate. Its chitinous armor gleamed with an unnatural sheen, and what looked suspiciously like a stolen plasma cannon was grafted onto one of its limbs.

"Grim, what the hell am I looking at?" Jaxsen demanded, already moving towards his personal transport.

"It appears to be a Q'orl commander unit, Colonel," the AI responded. "Preliminary scans indicate significant biomechanical augmentation and... is that one of our plasma cannons?"

"Looks like it," Jaxsen confirmed grimly. "Seems these bugs learn fast. Too bad for them, so do we." He turned to the squad of Liberty Guardsmen nearby. "Alright, you ugly motherfuckers! Looks like we've got a big bug that needs squashing. Who's ready to earn their hazard pay?"

A chorus of enthusiastic (if somewhat nervous) cheers answered him. Jaxsen grinned fiercely, checking the charge on his disintegration rifle.

"That's what I like to hear. Remember your training, stick to cover, and for Emperor's sake, don't let that plasma cannon hit you. I don't want to have to explain to your mothers why their kids came home extra crispy."

The Eastern Gate of Calligar Alpha had become a maelstrom of chaos and destruction. Samuel stood at the forefront, his disintegration rifle humming with deadly energy as he faced down the monstrous Alpha Q'orl blasting any Q'orl Warrior drones to dust . The creature towered over the battlefield, its chitinous armor gleaming with an unnatural sheen, grafted plasma cannon pulsing with stolen power.

"Come on, you oversized cockroach," Jaxsen growled, his enhanced muscles tensing beneath his exo-suit. "Let's dance."

The Alpha Q'orl let out a bone-chilling screech and charged forward, its massive form shaking the ground. Jaxsen rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding a blast from the plasma cannon that turned the spot he'd been standing into a crater of molten rock.

As Jaxsen engaged the Alpha, all hell broke loose around them. Warrior Drones poured through the breach in the Eastern Gate, a tide of chittering, slashing limbs and gnashing mandibles. The air filled with the staccato of gunfire and the screams of the wounded and dying.

Liberty Guardsmen, their exo-suits gleaming in the chaos, moved with inhuman speed and agility. Pulse rifles spat blue streaks of energy, tearing through the Q'orl ranks with devastating effect. Heavy pulse rifles, wielded by the burliest of the Guardsmen, sent explosive bolts that detonated among clustered enemies, sending chitin shrapnel flying.

But for all their technological superiority, the Liberty Guardsmen were not invincible. As one Guardsman's shield flickered and failed, a Warrior Drone was upon him in an instant. Chitinous blades slashed through the weakened armor, and a spray of acid followed, eating through metal and flesh alike. The Guardsman, even as he fell, overloaded his exo-suit's power core, the resulting explosion taking out a dozen Q'orl in a final act of defiance.

Planetary Defense Force troops, clad in their bulky power armor, formed the anvil to the Liberty Guardsmen's hammer. Their armor,with its thick plating and rounded helmets, provided excellent protection against the Q'orl's attacks. Bolters roared, explosive rounds detonating inside Q'orl bodies and turning them into gory mists. Las-rifles added to the cacophony, their red beams cutting through the air and leaving smoking holes in chitinous exoskeletons.

Automated turrets, hastily set up at key chokepoints, spewed a constant stream of fire into the Q'orl swarm. For a time, they seemed to stem the tide, piling up mounds of alien corpses. But the Q'orl kept coming, climbing over their dead, using the bodies of their fallen as macabre cover.

In the skies above, the battle was no less intense. Aircraft swooped low over the city, engines screaming as they unleashed their payloads. Bombs fell like rain, turning sections of the Q'orl swarm into infernos. Strafing runs left lines of fire and broken bodies in their wake. But the Q'orl were adapting, their bio-plasma weapons reaching up to swat fighters from the sky. Burning wreckage fell among the combatants, adding to the destruction.

Jaxsen stood his ground, his disintegration rifle humming with energy as he faced down the towering Alpha Q'orl. The creature's massive form blocked out the sun, its chitinous armor gleaming with an otherworldly sheen. But Jaxsen's focus wasn't solely on the behemoth before him – his enhanced senses were hyper-aware of the chaos surrounding them.

"Keep that fucking perimeter clear!" Jaxsen bellowed into his comm, his gravelly voice cutting through the cacophony of battle. "I can handle this oversized cockroach, but I can't dance with the whole damn swarm!"

Around him, Liberty Guardsmen fought with desperate intensity to keep the smaller Q'orl at bay. Their exo-suits, once gleaming, were now splattered with alien ichor and scored by acid attacks. But they held the line, a wall of transhuman fury standing between their commander and the chittering horde.

Plasma rifles flashed brilliant blue-white, each shot puncturing lethal holes through Warrior Drone carapaces. The air filled with the acrid smell of ozone and burning chitin. One Guardsman, his armor's left arm hanging useless at his side, switched seamlessly to a one-handed grip. His shots, if anything, became more precise, each blast taking a Q'orl in the head or center mass.

A small drone, no larger than a dog but all razor-sharp limbs and gnashing mandibles, leapt at a Guardsman's exposed flank. Without missing a beat, the soldier's blade gauntlet flashed out, a monomolecular edge slicing the creature clean in two. The bisected halves fell twitching to the ground as the Guardsman turned, already acquiring his next target.

Jaxsen smiled grimly at his men's performance, but he couldn't afford to be distracted. The Alpha Q'orl lunged forward, its massive plasma cannon – stolen and grotesquely grafted onto its form – glowing with building energy.

"Oh no you don't, you sonofabitch," Jaxsen growled, diving and rolling to the side. The plasma blast superheated the air where he'd been standing, turning the ground to glass.

As he came up from his roll, Jaxsen's disintegration rifle was already at his shoulder. He fired three quick shots at the Alpha's legs, each one finding its mark with unerring accuracy. Where the energy beams hit, matter simply ceased to exist. Great chunks of the Alpha's limbs vanished in puffs of rapidly dispersing particles.

The Alpha Q'orl let out a shriek of pain and rage that shook the very air. Its massive bulk toppled forward, crashing to the ground with an impact that sent tremors through the battlefield. But even with its legs reduced to stumps, the creature wasn't finished. Using its remaining limbs, it began to drag itself towards Jaxsen, mandibles clicking in fury.

"Persistent bastard, aren't you?" Jaxsen muttered, backing up to maintain his distance. He could see the creature's compound eyes fixed on him with alien hatred, its stolen plasma cannon trying to orient on his position.

Around them, the battle raged on.

A Liberty Guardsman was overwhelmed by a swarm of Warrior Drones, their clawed limbs tearing into his armor with relentless fury. Even as they closed in, his voice rose defiantly above the chaos:

"For Valorian! For LIBERTY!"

His cry was abruptly silenced as the creatures ripped through his suit, their mandibles shredding both flesh and metal. Yet, even with his vision fading, he refused to surrender. With trembling hands, he triggered the overload on his exo-suit's reactor.

Moments later, a massive explosion tore through the battlefield, vaporizing him and the alien horde around him. The ground shook as fire roared to life, consuming his enemies in a blinding inferno. He had chosen his fate—a martyr's death to ensure that none of them would feast upon his remains.

He would rather die than be devoured.

In the sky above, aircraft screamed past on strafing runs, their guns chattering and missiles streaking towards concentrations of Q'orl forces. But for every swarm they obliterated, more seemed to pour from the ground, the Tunneling Beetles having done their insidious work well.

Jaxsen knew he had to end this, and fast. The longer the Alpha lived, the more coordinated the Q'orl assault became. He could see it in the way the swarms moved, in the increasing precision of their attacks. They was adapting, learning, and that was a danger they couldn't afford.

With a deep breath, Jaxsen steadied himself. Time seemed to slow as he raised his disintegration rifle, aiming for the Alpha's head. The creature's protective chitin gleamed, thick enough for even the heavy bolters, but he wasn't holding a bolter. But Jaxsen hadn't survived this long by doubting himself.

"Eat this, bug," he snarled, and pulled the trigger.

The beam lanced out, a concentrated stream of annihilation. It struck the Alpha's head dead center, and for a moment, nothing seemed to happen. Then, like ice under a blowtorch, the chitin began to disappear. Layer by layer, the Alpha's protection vanished into nothingness.

The Alpha Q'orl, sensing its imminent demise, let out one final, deafening screech. It lunged forward with the last of its strength, mandibles snapping at Jaxsen's position. For a heart-stopping moment, it looked like the creature might reach him.

But Jaxsen stood his ground, his finger never leaving the trigger. The disintegration beam ate through the last of the chitin and bored into the soft tissue beneath. In an instant, the Alpha's brain case was gone, replaced by a gaping, perfectly smooth hole.

As the battle for Calligar Alpha raged on, the Liberty Guardsmen held their ground with grim determination. Despite the chaos and carnage surrounding them, their enhanced bodies and advanced exo-suits allowed them a degree of calm that would have been impossible for normal humans. And with that calm came conversation – a mix of gallows humor, complaints, and the kind of dark banter that only those who've stared death in the face can truly appreciate.

Sergeant Maria "Hotwire" Chen crouched behind a half-demolished wall, her plasma rifle cooling after a sustained burst that had turned a cluster of Warrior Drones into smoking chitin. She glanced over at Corporal Jake "Sparkplug" Rodriguez, who was busy reloading his heavy pulse rifle.

"Hey Sparkplug," she called out, her voice clear over their squad comm despite the din of battle. "You see that lightshow Randy put on earlier?"

Rodriguez snorted, a sound somewhere between amusement and disgust. "You mean when that dumbass overloaded his exo-suit? Yeah, I saw it. Took out a bunch of bugs, I'll give him that."

"True," Chen agreed, popping up to fire another quick burst before ducking back down. "But now his insurance is gonna go to that cheating whore he calls a girlfriend."

"No shit?" Rodriguez's eyebrows shot up behind his visor. "Man, that's cold. Didn't he just find out about her last week?"

"Yep," Chen confirmed. "Caught her with some Administratum pencil-pusher. Should've changed his beneficiary right then and there."

Their conversation was interrupted as a fresh wave of Q'orl surged towards their position. For a few intense minutes, there was nothing but the roar of weapons fire and the screeching of dying aliens. When the attack finally broke, leaving a carpet of twitching Q'orl bodies before them, the chatter resumed as if it had never stopped.

Private First Class Aisha "Doc" Mbeki was applying a quick-seal patch to a gash in her armor's leg, all while keeping her eyes on the battlefield. "You know," she mused, almost to herself, "days like this make me glad we've got top-notch limb restoration. Imagine losing an arm and just... staying that way."

"No kidding," agreed Lance Corporal Dmitri "Bear" Volkov, his massive frame making even the standard-issue exo-suit look small. "Remember when Jorgensen got his leg blown off last year? Two weeks in a regen-tank and he was back to running marathons."

Mbeki chuckled. "Yeah, and complaining the whole time about missing his favorite tattoo."

A little further down the line, Specialist Wei "Glitch" Zhang was covering the advance of a squad of Planetary Defense Force troops. As he watched the bulky, less maneuverable soldiers lumber forward in their power armor, he couldn't help but shake his head.

"Man, I miss playing with the big boys," he said, a note of wistfulness in his voice.

"The Astartes?" asked Private Yuki "Frost" Tanaka, who was providing overwatch from a nearby rooftop. "Yeah, those Liberty Eagles could make short work of these swarms."

"Remember that time the Campaing in the Helican Sector?" Zhang continued, his plasma rifle never stopping its steady rhythm of fire. "Watched an Eagles squad take down a Tyranid Carnifex like it was nothing. Made us look like we were standing still."

Tanaka laughed. "Hey, I'll take being a Liberty Guardsman over Auxilia or PDF any day. Sure, the Eagles make us look slow...and small, but at least we're not regular humans in paper-thin armor."

Chen nodded, her helmet bobbing as she took out another group of drones. "No argument here. But hey, at least we're not Solar Auxilia or PDF, right?"

The squad collectively shuddered at the thought. They'd all seen what happened to "normal" humans in battles like this.

"Remember that joint op we ran with the Luna Wolves? The Eagles with the Wolves and we with their Solar Auxilia last year?" Rodriguez asked, his voice taking on a somber tone despite the ongoing firefight. "Those poor bastards. The moment their armor gets punctured, they're as good as dead."

"And no healthcare to speak of," Mbeki added. "Can you imagine? Getting mauled by xenos and then having to foot the bill for your own cybernetics?"

Their conversation was interrupted by a panicked scream. Through the swarm, they could see a Planetary Defense Force trooper being overwhelmed by Q'orl. The bugs were crawling over his bulky power armor, seeking weak points, trying to pry it open.

Without hesitation, the Liberty Guardsmen shifted their fire, shredding the Q'orl horde swarming the PDF trooper. As the last bug fell, the trooper stumbled to his feet, his armor dented and scored but intact.

"You okay there, big guy?" Volkov called out.

The PDF trooper gave a shaky thumbs up. "T-thanks for the save," he stammered, his voice hoarse with fear.

"Anytime," Volkov replied. "Now get back to your unit. We've got bugs to kill."

As the PDF trooper lumbered off, the squad fell back into their rhythm of combat and conversation.

"You know," Chen mused, decapitating a Warrior Drone with a well-placed swipe of her blade gauntlet, "for all the crap we give the PDF, at least they're out here fighting. Gotta respect that."

Rodriguez nodded, his heavy pulse rifle never ceasing its staccato rhythm. "True enough. Still, makes you appreciate being a Liberty Guardsman, doesn't it? Speaking of which, any of you run ops with other Legiones Astartes?"

Volkov chuckled, the sound dark with remembered amusement. "Ran a few joints with the Luna Wolves last year. Proud bastards, the lot of them."

"At least they can back it up," Chen pointed out. "Now the Space Wolves, those are my kind of Astartes. Always a party when they show up."

"Or when we show up to their place," Rodriguez added with a laugh. "Remember that time Franklin and Leman threw that feast after the Proxima Centauri campaign? I've never seen so much mjod in my life."

The squad shared a moment of laughter, the sound bizarre against the backdrop of screams and gunfire.

"Speaking of Legions," Volkov said, his voice taking on a teasing tone, "how about those Iron Hands, eh? So many Iron Hands."

The old joke, dating back to when their Primarch had pointed out that 'Ferrus Manus' literally meant 'Iron Hands' in High Gothic, sent another round of chuckles through the squad.

"Say what you will about the Iron Hands," Chen said, her voice thoughtful even as she laid down a withering barrage of plasma fire, "they know their tech. Only the Mechanicum's got them beat, and that's just because Mars is always second."

"Don't let any tech-priests hear you say that," Rodriguez warned, though his tone was light. "But yeah, gotta give credit where it's due. The Iron Hands might be a bit... intense, but they know their stuff."

A lull in the fighting gave the squad a moment to catch their breath. They used the opportunity to check their weapons and armor, falling into the easy routine of battlefield maintenance.

"You know," Volkov said, his voice softer now, almost reverent, "sometimes I still can't believe we're out here, fighting alongside Primarchs. I mean, I remember when Franklin was just another officer in the Independence Cluster Defense Force."

Chen nodded, her hands moving automatically as she cleaned her plasma rifle. "I know what you mean. We might be older than him, chronologically speaking, but damn if he hasn't led us to victory more times than I can count."

"It's not just the victories," Rodriguez added. "It's the way he leads. He's always there, in the thick of it. Never asks us to do anything he wouldn't do himself...I mean there's nothing he can't do so..."

"True that," Volkov agreed. "And he's got a way of making you believe, you know? Like no matter how bad things get, we're going to pull through."

The conversation drifted to the other Primarchs they'd encountered over the years.

"Horus is a good sort," Chen offered. "Bit full of himself, maybe, but he's got the skills to back it up. And he's always treated us with respect, which is more than you can say for some."

Rodriguez laughed. "Remember when Franklin was teaching Leman Russ how to eat 'civilly'? Now that was a sight to see."

The squad shared another chuckle at the memory. Then, they sobered as Volkov mentioned another name.

"Ferrus Manus," he said, his tone cautious. "Now there's a Primarch you don't want to cross."

The others nodded in agreement. "No nonsense, that one," Chen said. "Brilliant, no doubt about it, but... intense. Best to steer clear unless you've got official business."

As if summoned by their conversation, a fresh wave of Q'orl burst from a nearby building, chittering and screeching as they charged the Liberty Guardsmen's position.

"Well, boys and girls," Volkov said, raising his plasma rifle, "looks like break time's over. Let's show these bugs why you don't mess with the Liberty Guardsmen!"

With a chorus of affirmatives, the squad leapt back into action. Their banter ceased, replaced by the focused communication of a well-oiled fighting unit. But even as they fought, each of them carried with them the comfort of their shared experiences, their dark humor, and their unwavering faith in their Primarch and their cause.

They were Liberty Guardsmen, the elite of the Independence Sector. They had fought alongside Primarchs, battled xenos threats across the galaxy, and always, always come out on top. This swarm of oversized insects wasn't about to change that.

As they fought, they knew that somewhere out there, Colonel Jaxsen was taking on the biggest, baddest bug of them all. And they were damned if they were going to let him down. After all, they had a reputation to uphold, a Primarch to make proud, and a galaxy to defend.