The Primarch of Liberty

Chapter 62: Here Comes the Executioner



824.30M, The Great Crusade.

10 Hours into the Q'orl invasion of the Calligar System.

The air was thick with the acrid smell of burning flesh and melted plasteel. Colonel Samuel Leroy Jaxsen stood atop a makeshift command post, his enhanced eyes scanning the chaos of the battlefield. The massive corpse of a Q'orl Alpha lay nearby, a trophy of their earlier victory, now secured for later analysis. But that victory seemed a lifetime ago.

"Fall back to the second line, you motherfuckers!" Jaxsen's voice boomed across the comms, cutting through the cacophony of battle. "I said fall back, not run like scared little bitches! Controlled retreat, people!"

Around him, the first line of defense was crumbling. The relentless waves of Q'orl warriors had finally begun to overwhelm the Planetary Defense Forces even with Liberty Guardsmen as support. Jaxsen watched as a group of PDFs, their power armor scorched and dented, provided covering fire for their retreating comrades.

"Sergeant Kraut!" Jaxsen barked into his comm. "Get your ass and your squad to sector 7! Those bug-eyed bastards are trying to flank us!"

"Yes, sir!" came the immediate reply. Moments later, Jaxsen saw a squad of heavily armed Liberty Guardsmen sprint across the battlefield, their Pulse Rifles spitting death at the encroaching xenos.

"Incoming!" he roared. "Artillery!"

The sky lit up with sickly green light as Q'orl bio-artillery began to rain down. Globules of acid hissed and sputtered where they landed, eating through armor and flesh alike. Explosive rounds detonated among the retreating forces, sending men and equipment flying.

A deafening explosion rocked the command post. Jaxsen stumbled but kept his footing, his augmented muscles compensating automatically. He turned to see a smoking crater where a bunker had been moments before.

"Somebody get me some goddamn air support!" he roared. "I want those flyboys earning their fucking pay!"

As if in answer, the screech of engines filled the air. A squadron of Warthogs swooped low over the battlefield, their heavy bolters and missile pods unleashing hell upon the Q'orl artillery. The xenos scattered, their chitinous bodies no match for the awesome firepower of the Imperial war machines.

"Colonel!" A vox-operator ran up, his face pale beneath the grime of battle. "Word from orbit, sir. The fleet's engaged with a massive Q'orl force. They're... they're outnumbered, sir." Jaxsen's jaw tightened. If they lost orbital control, this whole defense would be for nothing. But that wasn't his battle to fight. His job was here, on the ground, keeping his men alive and the bugs at bay.

"Understood," he growled. "Tell them we're holding down here. And tell that son of a bitch Gomez that if he lets those bugs get past him, I'll personally kick his ass from here to Nova Libertas!"

The vox-operator nodded, a small smile breaking through his worried expression as he relayed the message.

Jaxsen turned back to the battle. The retreat was proceeding as planned, but it was a near thing. The Q'orl were pressing hard, their ant-like coordination allowing them to exploit any weakness in the human lines.

"Third Platoon, shore up that gap!" he ordered, spotting a dangerous thinning in their lines. "Martinez, get your flamers up there! I want a wall of fire between us and those bugs!"

The battlefield lit up with promethium flame as the flamer units moved into position. The Q'orl screeched in alien agony as they burned, the fire spreading quickly among their tightly packed ranks.

But still they came.

Jaxsen felt the ground trembling beneath his feet. His eyes widened as he saw what was coming next.

"Burrowers!" he shouted. "They're coming up from below!"

The ground erupted in a dozen places along their line. Massive, beetle-like Q'orl burst forth, their maws lined with razor-sharp teeth. PDF forces screamed as they were dragged into the newly formed holes, their armor providing little protection against the monster's strength.

"Melta charges!" Jaxsen roared. "Seal those holes! Guardsmen, concentrate fire on the burrowers!"

The next few minutes were a blur of action. Melta charges detonated, turning the earth to glass and sealing the Q'orl tunnels. The Liberty Guardsmen's pulse rifles proved their worth once again, their concentrated fire bringing down even the massive burrowers.

Slowly, painfully, they reached the second line of defense. Reinforced bunkers and prefab fortifications stood ready to receive them. Heavy weapons emplacements, already manned and ready, opened up on the pursuing Q'orl swarm.

Now came the hard part: holding this line until reinforcements arrived.

He looked at the hololithic display showing the overall tactical situation. It wasn't pretty, but they were still in the fight.

"Grim," Jaxsen barked to his AI companion, "give me a sitrep on our air support."

The AI's voice was calm amidst the madness. "Air superiority is maintained, Colonel. However, Q'orl numbers are overwhelming ground targets faster than our aircraft can engage."

As if to punctuate Grim's report, a series of explosions rocked the earth. Jaxsen's enhanced senses picked up the distinct whistle of incoming artillery moments before impact.

"Incoming!" he roared. "Get to cover!"

The sky lit up as more Q'orl bio-artillery rained down. Where the rounds hit, earth bubbled and hissed, dissolved by potent acids. Other impacts resulted in explosions that sent shrapnel-like fragments of crystallized toxins in all directions.

Through the chaos, Jaxsen observed a group of Q'orl Warrior Drones. Their antennae twitched rapidly, coordinating their forces with an efficiency that would make an Imperial tactician weep. But their alien coordination was short-lived.

"Beheading tactics, now!" Jaxsen ordered into his vox.

A squad of Liberty Guardsmen responded instantly. With precision they targeted the communicating Warriors. Pulse rifle fire lanced out, literally beheading the alien commanders and sending their forces into disarray.

"Colonel," Grim's voice cut in, "I'm detecting complex mathematical runic symbols in the Q'orl communications. They appear to be using a multi-layered system of data transfer." Jaxsen grunted, ducking as a stray bio-round whizzed overhead. "Explain it to me like I'm five, Grim."

"They're using visual, chemical, and pheromonal signals simultaneously, sir. It's making our jamming efforts... challenging."

"Challenging, he says," Jaxsen muttered. "Like this whole fucking day hasn't been one big challenge."

He turned his attention back to the battlefield. The second defensive line was holding, but barely. Liberty Guardsmen and PDF troopers fought side by side, A Storm Lord Super-heavy tank, its hull scarred and smoking, provided supporting fire with its Vulkan-Heavy Bolter, turning Q'orl Warrior Drones to dust within a split second it came under it's sights.

Above, the skies were alive with activity. Aircraft screamed overhead, their payloads turning vast swathes of the Q'orl swarm into infernos of burning promethium. But for every hundred xenos they burned, a thousand more seemed to take their place.

"Colonel!" a voice crackled over the vox. "Third line reporting. We've got bugs trying to flank us from the east!"

Jaxsen swore colorfully. "Redirect air support to the eastern approach. I want that flank sealed tighter than a Senator's asshole!"

As he barked orders, Jaxsen's enhanced senses picked up a new sound - a high-pitched whine that set his teeth on edge. He turned just in time to see a massive Q'orl Bio-Titan lumbering over the horizon, its chitinous form bristling with organic weaponry.

"Oh, you have got to be shitting me," Jaxsen growled.

The Bio-Titan opened fire. A stream of corrosive bile arced through the air, melting through the second defensive line like it was made of wax. Screams of agony filled the air as soldiers caught in the spray were dissolved alive.

Jaxsen's enhanced eyes picked out the monstrous form rising above the xenos swarm. "All batteries, concentrate fire on that big motherfucker!" he growled into his vox.

The response was immediate and devastating. The sky lit up as a barrage of smart missiles streaked towards the Bio-Titan, their contrails crisscrossing in a deadly dance. Rail guns thundered, their hypersonic projectiles leaving visible distortions in the air. Artillery pieces belched fire and smoke, adding their earth-shaking fury to the cacophony.

The Bio-Titan didn't stand a chance. In mere seconds, it was engulfed in a maelstrom of explosions. When the smoke cleared, all that remained was a smoldering, melted mess of

chitin and flesh.

But the Q'orl was endless.

"Don't let up!" Jaxsen roared, his voice carrying over the din of battle. "Pour it on, people! I want so much fire out there the Emperor himself will think we lit a new sun!"

The defenders responded with gusto. Las-guns whined, sending searing beams of coherent light into the xenos ranks. Pulse rifles added their distinctive "crack-hiss" to the symphony of destruction, each shot leaving a Q'orl warrior with a smoking hole where its vital organs used to be. Bolters roared, their mass-reactive shells detonating inside alien bodies and turning

them into gory mists.

Jaxsen was everywhere at once, his enhanced physique allowing him to move with inhuman speed and precision. His disintegration rifle swept left and right, each pull of the trigger leaving nothing but drifting motes of dust where Q'orl warriors had stood moments before. "Flanking maneuver at sector three!" The vox crackled again. "They're trying to go around

our left!"

"Not on my watch," Jaxsen snarled. "Fourth Platoon, swing left! Fifth, I want suppressing fire

on that flank. Sixth, you're with me!"

He charged towards the threatened sector, a dozen Liberty Guardsmen falling in behind him.

As they ran, the ground shook beneath their feet. A massive Baneblade rolled past, its Baneblade Cannon already tracking towards the Q'orl flanking force.

"Fire!" Jaxsen bellowed.

The Super Tank's main gun spoke, its report so loud it momentarily drowned out all other

sounds of battle. The shell impacted among the densest concentration of Q'orl, and for a brief moment, Jaxsen could have sworn he saw the fabric of reality itself ripple from the force of

the blast.

When his vision cleared, a massive crater had replaced a significant portion of the Q'orl flank.

But still they came.

"Promethium teams, light 'em up!" Jaxsen ordered, his voice hoarse from shouting over the

din of battle.

Flamethrower teams moved up, their weapons belching liquid fire. The air filled with the sickening stench of burning xenos flesh and the agonized screams of dying Q'orl.

A flash of movement caught Jaxsen's eye. A Q'orl warrior, larger than the others, was charging directly at him. Its mandibles clicked in anticipation of the kill.

"Oh no you don't, you overgrown cockroach," Jaxsen muttered. He raised his disintegration

rifle and fired.

The beam hit the Q'orl dead center. For a split second, the alien's form seemed to waver, as if

it were nothing more than a mirage. Then it simply... ceased to be, collapsing into a cloud of

drifting particles.

"Colonel!" A voice cut through the chaos. Sergeant Vasquez, her armor scorched and dented,

ran up to him. "Sir, we're running low on ammo for the heavy weapons. The Q'orl have cut off our supply lines to the northern depot."

Jaxsen cursed. "Alright, listen up! I want every able-bodied trooper not currently engaged in direct combat to start ferrying ammo. Strip it from the dead if you have to, but keep our big guns fed!"

Meanwhile in the Void of Space.

Rear Admiral Richard Gomez stood on the bridge of the Heavy Cruiser Dominance, his weathered face illuminated by the flickering red emergency lights. The acrid smell of burned circuitry filled the air, mingling with the metallic tang of spilled blood. Around him, his crew

worked feverishly, their fingers dancing across consoles as they fought to keep the battered ship operational. "Status report," Gomez barked, his voice hoarse from hours of shouting orders. Captain Valerius limped to his side, a hastily applied bandage visible beneath his torn

uniform. "It's not good, sir. We're down to 30 ships. The Dominance has taken heavy damage

to our port side, and life support is failing on decks 3 through 7. The carrier Intrepid is still operational, but she's running low on fighters. Our remaining Heavy Cruisers are reporting critical systems failures across the board."

Gomez nodded grimly, his eyes fixed on the tactical display. The vast swarm of Q'orl ships filled the screen, their bio-mechanical forms an alien obscenity against the backdrop of space. Despite hours of guerilla tactics, hit-and-run strikes, and brilliantly executed ambushes, the sheer numbers of the enemy fleet were overwhelming.

"And the enemy?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"We've confirmed 100 Q'orl ships destroyed, sir," Valerius replied, a hint of pride in his voice

despite the dire circumstances. "But they're still coming. Our latest estimates put their remaining strength at over 200 vessels."

They had bloodied the enemy's nose, at least. But it wasn't enough. It would never be enough.

The massive Q'orl Mothership loomed in the distance, a 40-kilometer long monstrosity of chitin and bio-mechanical horror. Its very presence seemed to mock their efforts, a testament to the overwhelming force they faced.

"Sir," the sensor officer called out, his voice tight with tension. "The Q'orl fleet is changing

formation. They're... they're making a run for the planet!"

Gomez cursed under his breath. He had feared this. The Xenos had realized his delaying

tactics for what they were and had decided to press their advantage. "They're using their lead ships to clear our minefields," Valerius observed, pointing to a

section of the tactical display where Q'orl vessels were detonating in fiery blooms of destruction, clearing paths for the main fleet.

The Rear Admiral's mind raced. They couldn't abandon their position. If they left orbit, the

Q'orl would commence orbital bombardment, and all would be lost. But staying meant certain destruction for what remained of his fleet.

A plan, desperate and likely suicidal, began to form in Gomez's mind. "Listen up," he announced, his voice carrying across the bridge. "We're going to bait them into orbit. Prepare all remaining torpedoes. We're going to give these bastards one hell of a welcome party."

As his orders were relayed across the remnants of his fleet, Gomez watched the Q'orl advance.

The battle that unfolded was a testament to human determination in the face of overwhelming odds. The Dominance led the charge, its engines straining as it maneuvered to present the smallest

possible target profile. Behind it, the remaining cruisers formed a tight formation, their point-defense systems creating a web of laser fire that picked off incoming Q'orl fighters. The Intrepid, their last Voidcraft Carrier, launched its final squadrons. Pilots, knowing this

was likely their last mission, flew with reckless abandon. They darted between the massive Q'orl ships, targeting engines and weapons systems with precision born of desperation.

But for every Q'orl ship they managed to cripple or destroy, more came to fill the the formation. The sheer volume of enemy fire was overwhelming. Gomez watched as the cruiser Indomitable, its void shields finally giving way, was torn apart by a barrage of bio-plasma. "Sir, we've lost the Vigilant and the Stormbreaker," Valerius reported, his voice tight with tension. "The Intrepid reports all fighters expended."

Gomez nodded grimly. "Order the Intrepid to fall back. They've done their part." As they neared Calligar Alpha's orbit, the massive Q'orl Mothership finally entered the fray. Its weapon systems, previously held in reserve, now unleashed a fury that dwarfed anything

they had faced before. Beams of sickly green energy lanced out, carving through Imperial

ships with terrifying ease.

"Evasive maneuvers!" Gomez roared as one of these beams narrowly missed the Dominance.

The entire ship shuddered, artificial gravity fluctuating wildly as the helmsman pushed the

cruiser to its limits.

They were in orbit now, the curvature of Calligar Alpha visible below them. The Q'orl, sensing victory, pressed their attack with renewed vigor.

"Now!" Gomez commanded. "All ships, launch torpedoes! Empty the tubes!"

What followed was a sight that would have made even the most hardened Naval strategist weep. Every remaining Imperial ship unleashed its full complement of torpedoes in a single, devastating salvo. Hundreds of warheads streaked towards the Q'orl fleet, leaving trails of blue fire in their wake.

The Q'orl, caught off guard by this sudden, all-or-nothing attack, scrambled to respond. Their point-defense systems erupted in a frenzy of activity, swatting torpedoes from the sky.

But there were too many.

Explosions blossomed across the Q'orl line as torpedoes found their marks. Smaller ships were vaporized instantly, while larger vessels were left crippled and burning. Even the mighty Mothership didn't escape unscathed, multiple detonations marring its chitinous hull.

For a moment, hope flared in Gomez's chest. But it was short-lived.

"Sir," Valerius said quietly, "that was everything we had." Gomez looked at the tactical display. While they had bloodied the Q'orl nose, the enemy fleetn/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

was far from defeated. And now, his own ships were defenseless, their ammunition expended. Explosions rocked the Dominance as Rear Admiral Gomez watched helplessly, his fleet's final, desperate salvo spent. The Q'orl Mothership loomed ever closer, its bio-plasma cannons powering up for the kill.

Just as all hope seemed lost, the very fabric of space began to distort. A massive rift tore open

in the void, and from its swirling depths emerged a sight that filled Gomez's heart with Relief.

"By the Emperor..." Valerius breathed, his eyes wide with awe.

A battlefleet of over 400 ships poured forth, the sleek, angular profiles of Liberty Eagles

vessels cutting through the darkness.

"This is 2nd Captain Steven Armstrong of the Liberty Eagles," a booming voice crackled over

the vox. "Stand down, Rear Admiral Gomez. We'll take it from here." Gomez allowed himself a weary smile. "Gladly, Captain," he replied, before issuing a terse

order to his remaining ships. "All vessels, regroup and fall back. The Liberty Eagles have arrived." As the battered Imperial ships maneuvered to safety, the Liberty Eagles unleashed a torrent of firepower upon the unsuspecting Q'orl fleet. Macro-cannons the size of hive-city skyscrapers thundered, their salvos tearing gaping holes in the enemy formation. Disintegration beams from the Excelsus, the flagship of 2nd Captain Armstrong, lanced out

with unerring precision, targeting the massive Q'orl Mothership. The alien behemoth shuddered under the onslaught, its once-impregnable chitin armor beginning to crack and peel away. Explosions ripped through its interior as the disintegration

beams burned through its very structure.

Back at the Ground.

Colonel Samuel Leroy Jaxsen stood at the Eastern Gate, his disintegration rifle clutched

tightly in his battle-worn hands. The air was thick with the acrid smell of burning chitin and

the constant, chittering screech of the Q'orl horde. His men, exhausted but determined, held the line with grim resolve.

"We hold this ground in the name of Liberty!" Jaxsen roared, his voice carrying over the din of battle. "For Valorian!"

As if in response to his battle cry, a massive Q'orl Alpha burst through the ranks of its lesser brethren, its mandibles clicking in anticipation of fresh prey. Jaxsen locked eyes with the monstrosity, a weary sigh escaping his lips. He'd faced down these bastards before, but this

one... this one was bigger.

Just as Jaxsen was about to engage the Alpha, a curious sound caught his attention. It wasn't

the familiar shriek of Q'orl bio-weapons or the thunderous report of Imperial guns. No, this

was something else entirely.

Jaxsen's eyes widened as he realized what he was seeing. "Well, I'll be damned," he muttered, a grin spreading across his face despite the dire situation. "That ain't no rain of fire." Drop pods, hundreds of them, streaked through the smoke-filled sky like vengeful meteors. They slammed into the heart of the Q'orl horde with earth-shattering force, scattering alien bodies like broken toys. As the dust settled, the pods' hatches blew open, and out poured the

Liberty Eagles.

The Astartes, resplendent in their Navy Blue and Red-striped exo-suits adorned with stars, charged into the fray with a ferocity that made Jaxsen's heart swell with pride. Power swords

crackled with energy as they carved through Q'orl carapaces, while disintegration beams reduced entire swathes of the alien horde to ash.

Jaxsen watched in awe as the tide of battle shifted dramatically. His men, reinvigorated by the arrival of their transhuman saviors, fought with renewed vigor. But the Colonel's attention was drawn back to the massive Q'orl Alpha that had been bearing down on him moments ago. Before Jaxsen could even raise his rifle, a blur of motion caught his eye. A figure, impossibly large even for an Astartes, plummeted from a hovering Stormbird above. It slammed into the Q'orl Alpha with the force of a falling star, crushing the xenos beast beneath its weight. As the dust cleared, Jaxsen found himself face to face with none other than 2nd Captain Steven Armstrong. Standing at an imposing 10 feet tall, Armstrong was a sight to behold. His mechsuit, a masterpiece of Liberty Eagle technology, hummed with barely contained power.

"Took you long enough to join the party, Captain," Jaxsen quipped, his tone a blend of relief and respect.

Armstrong's helm pivoted towards him, and Jaxsen could almost sense the grin hidden behind the faceplate. "Wouldn't dream of letting you have all the fun, Colonel," he replied, his voice resonating like thunder. "Now, let's demonstrate to these bugs the consequences of

crossing Liberty." Jaxsen had heard the stories, of course. They called Armstrong the Liberator's Executioner. When diplomacy failed, when worlds proved too stubborn or xenos too hostile, it was Armstrong that Valorian sent to cleanse them in blood and fire. Seeing him in action, Jaxsen

understood why.

The 2nd Captain moved like a force of nature, each step leaving craters in his wake. His power fists, now outfitted with modified plasma pistols, carved a path of destruction through the Q'orl ranks. Whatever stood before him was reduced to mere pulp, with no questions asked.

Jaxsen watched in amazement as a group of Q'orl warriors opened fire on Armstrong. Their bio-plasma weapons, capable of melting through reinforced bunkers, splashed harmlessly against a flickering field of energy surrounding the Captain.

"Void shield tech," Jaxsen muttered in awe. "On a personal scale. Now that's something." Armstrong's response was swift and devastating. The plasma pistols attached to his power fists roared to life, spitting death at a rate Jaxsen had never seen before. The weapons fired in

quick succession, each shot followed by a sharp hiss of cooling systems. Some variant of plasma technology Jaxsen wasn't familiar with, but damn if it wasn't effective. Q'orl warriors fell by the dozens, their chitinous armor offering no protection against Armstrong's onslaught. Those that managed to get close were swatted aside by his power fists, their bodies crumpling like paper under the immense force. As Armstrong swatted aside the Xenos, his personal A.I. Atlas provided information that

made him smirk-a smile that could send any ordinary man running.