Several USS soldiers had been injected with the Junior Super Soldier Serum—an experimental hybrid formula combining the combat-boosting effects of the Stimpack with a lightweight version of the SPARTAN augmentation serum. The results weren't showy—just enough to push their physical capabilities slightly beyond the baseline of a superhuman, nearing the level of someone like Captain America. Maximum estimated lifting strength hovered around 1,000 pounds (±453.6 kilograms).
The serum was a product of limited research led directly by Dr. Catherine Halsey and had not yet received approval for mass deployment. The aggressive neural stimulation from the Stimpack component was still considered too risky for general use. For now, only a handful of handpicked USS personnel were selected to serve as live combat test subjects under this experimental protocol.
Autocannon

Two of them now manned a heavy autocannon—one on the trigger, the other on constant ammo reload duty.
With their firing stance locked low and reinforced bodies anchored to the floor, the autocannon's barrel spewed uninterrupted streams of fire down the corridor. The swarm of Warrior Bugs pressed forward, charging straight toward the command center of the John A. Warden. The thunderous roar of the cannon mixed with the sharp clinks of ejecting casings to form a grim symphony of death. Brass shells piled into gleaming hills at their feet, reeking of hot metal and scorched insect flesh.
Every creature that came close was torn apart. Their bodies were shredded by high-velocity rounds, ripped into fountains of dark green blood and fractured exoskeleton. The battlefield became a carpet of death—a thick layer of burnt, mangled insect corpses.
And still, the autocannon kept firing.
Relentless. Unyielding. Unstoppable.
---
Kenthelion stood just behind the firing line, his sharp gaze fixed on the dark corridor ahead.
Kenthelion:
> "Squad F, deploy Advanced Rocket Drones. Seek and eliminate the Plasma Grenadiers. Take them out before we lose momentum."
He remembered those deadly creatures well—Plasma Grenadiers, capable of launching plasma projectiles from a distance and blowing apart defensive lines with impunity. They had to be neutralized before the tide turned.
USS Officer:
> "Orders received, Captain."
Squad F moved with practiced precision, releasing the Advanced Rocket Drones—backpack-sized combat machines outfitted with Mass Accelerator Rifles, now upgraded to launch Distortion Rockets: high-precision anti-heavy ordnance designed to erase priority threats with ruthless efficiency.
Meanwhile, the rest of the mobile infantry pounded away at the remaining Warrior Bugs. Their expressions no longer tense—instead, they looked almost amused. Like they were on a shooting range, taking potshots at moving targets.
No tactics.
No real resistance.
Just an endless barrage behind energy shields, spitting bullets into the horde.
---
Thirty minutes later.
The Arachnid assault had been broken.
The forward corridor of the ship was now a grotesque tableau—piles of broken shells, torn limbs, and insect blood pooling like thick mud. The last screeches of the Warrior Bugs had long since faded, replaced by the clatter of spent ammo and the soft whirring of med-drones combing the battlefield.
Kenthelion glanced around, exhaled through his nose, and wiped insect gore from his chestplate.
Kenthelion:
> "Clean this up. Acid solvents only. I don't want bug guts staining my deck."
The USS mobile infantry began their cleanup. Solvent bots were deployed. The acrid stench of corrosion gradually replaced the sharp tang of gunpowder.
The purge had begun.
Kenthelion leaned one hand against the metal wall, casually glancing at the three women he had just helped save from a horde of deadly insects.
Kenthelion:
"Beautiful ladies, your prince has just rescued you. Don't you think a little gratitude is in order?"
His voice was teasing, but his eyes gleamed with the arrogance of someone who knew he was impressive.
Carmen, Deborah, and Tia Durer exchanged brief glances—none of them bothering to entertain him.
Carmen turned her back on him immediately, pressing a button on her headset and speaking in a voice so cold and precise it could've come from a military-grade AI.
Carmen:
"Team Two, what's your status?"
Deborah let out a sigh, rolling her eyes like someone who'd had to put up with Kenthelion's ego one too many times.
Tia Durer, the only one who even remotely softened, spared him a glance.
Tia Durer:
"Thanks."
Her tone was flat—almost painfully so.
---
Gunfire echoed through the comm channel, mixed with static and the sound of distant screaming.
Major Henry Varro (over comms):
"Too many bugs! We're taking heavy losses!"
The background rumbled with the chaos of battle—automatic fire, heavy weapons discharge, and the shriek of metal grinding under pressure.
Carmen:
"Major Henry, fall back to the bridge. We've set up a temporary defensive position here. Bring your squad, now!"
Major Henry:
"Team Two, roger that. We're moving!"
---
Carmen turned to Lieutenant Tony Daugherty, her voice sharp and commanding.
Carmen:
"Lieutenant, clear the control room of all bodies—human and insect. I want my warship back: the John A. Warden."
Daugherty gave a tight nod and barked orders. The USS mobile infantry sprang into action, hauling corpses away and cleaning the command center of blood and insect remains with practiced efficiency.
---
Meanwhile, Kenthelion strolled toward the main computer interface like he owned the place. He dropped into the command chair without a second thought and tapped the holographic interface embedded in his wrist guard.
Red Queen, the AI integrated into his personal command systems, linked into the ship's controls via a private channel.
Red Queen:
"Brother, are you sure you want me to take over the warship's command system? This will be my first time accessing something with this architecture."
Kenthelion:
"How long will it take?"
Red Queen:
"Approximately thirty minutes. I'll need to update protocols and decrypt multiple layers of encryption—most likely installed by the Arachnid Queen."
Kenthelion:
"Thirty minutes? I thought it'd take three hours. Good. Proceed."
His voice was calm—relieved, even. A bigger threat than ordinary insects had just been confirmed.
---
On the other side of the bridge, Carmen tried to regain control of the ship through her own console—but every command was denied. Access locked. Nothing penetrated the main system.
Kenthelion:
"Beautiful Carmen, maybe it's time to take a break. Your ship's command systems are under the Arachnid Queen's control now. You won't get it back—not without total system destruction."
Carmen:
"What?! There's a Queen Arachnid inside my ship's systems?"
Her voice spiked with shock and outrage.
Kenthelion:
"Yes. Has been for a while, it seems."
Carmen:
"Damn it... Carl. This has his fingerprints all over it."
She slammed her fist against the console. The metallic thud echoed through the room—raw, angry, and personal.
Deborah let out a long breath, trying to hold back the frustration building in her chest. Her expression tightened slightly, eyes staring blankly at a section of the cabin wall now scorched and blackened by the aftermath of battle.
Deborah:
"So... what now? We can't take back the John A. Warden, and we can't return to HQ either. We're... trapped."
Her voice was flat, almost emotionless—but the weight of helplessness was clear in every syllable.
Suddenly—
CLANG!
Everyone in the room instinctively turned toward the sound.
Kenthelion's eyes narrowed, instantly on alert as he spotted Tia Durer removing parts of her combat armor, stripping down to a protective undersuit and lightweight field gear. She was holding a high-caliber sniper rifle, and now she was hammering the air vent cover with the buttstock—eerily reminiscent of a scene straight out of Starship Troopers: Invasion (2012).
Carmen rushed over, suspicion thick in her tone.
Carmen:
"What the hell are you doing?"
Tia Durer barely glanced back, her expression cold and focused like a predator on the hunt.
Tia Durer:
"I'm going to kill the Arachnid Queen. Once she's dead, you'll get your ship back. Simple as that."
Before anyone could argue, she began climbing into the ventilation shaft. Her lean, trained body moved with fluid precision, slipping into the narrow space like she'd done it a thousand times.
But before she could disappear inside, a strong hand yanked her backward.
With a surprised grunt, Tia tumbled out—and landed hard against a solid chestplate. Kenthelion stood behind her, holding her firmly in place as her body collided with his.
Tia Durer (furious):
"Let me go! What the hell are you doing? I can kill that Queen! I'm not dying in here!"
But Kenthelion didn't flinch. He stared into her eyes, close enough to feel her breath, his voice low, calm, and resolute.
Kenthelion:
"You won't make it on your own. Not now. Those vents are crawling with Arachnid tissue and bio-traps. You think this is just another military sci-fi flick? Don't waste your life."
Tia froze for a beat. She wasn't the trusting type—but his words slammed into the core of her soldier's logic.
She didn't resist any further, but her glare didn't soften.
Tia Durer (flatly):
"Fine. I'm not going. But why the hell are you still holding me?"
Kenthelion, entirely unfazed, leaned back into the command chair—Tia still in his arms. A slow, crooked smile tugged at his lips, half-mocking and dangerously charming.
Kenthelion:
"You haven't fulfilled your part of our deal yet. Think of this as... interest on your delay."
Tia Durer
"You bastard! Go to Deborah! Aren't you two already together... didn't you even sleep together?!"
Tia Durer struggled to break free from Kenthelion's arms, but his grip held firm—unyielding and impossible to escape.
Deborah
The moment the words left Tia's mouth, every mobile infantry soldier in the room turned to look at Deborah.
Her face flushed red, completely speechless. She wanted to deny it, but her tongue felt like stone.
Even if she said they weren't together anymore, who would believe her now?
Deborah knew—she had slept with Kenthelion... and that wasn't the kind of thing you could just explain away in a warzone.
Kenthelion
"Deborah is Deborah. You are you," he said calmly, utterly unfazed by Tia's glare or her fury.
Tia Durer
"You son of a bitch... shameless fucking pervert..."
But after struggling with all her strength and failing, Tia gave up. She sighed and slumped slightly against Kenthelion's chest, though the fire in her eyes still burned.
Carmen
"You're all fucking shameless."
Carmen couldn't hold back her sharp comment as she watched Kenthelion holding Tia like it was just another lazy afternoon—not the brink of total shipwide annihilation.
Kenthelion
"Carmen, are you jealous? Or... do you want me to hold you too?" he said with that same smug, infuriatingly flirtatious tone that no one wanted to hear right now.
Carmen
"Jealous, my ass! Fuck off!"
Carmen scowled, her voice rising with unmistakable irritation.
Suddenly, a barrage of gunfire rang out from outside. The roar of automatic rifles and the thunderous blast of an Autocannon shook the warship's structure. Kenthelion and the others immediately moved out, racing to investigate the source of the chaos.
Then the gunfire stopped—abruptly.
Through the thick haze of smoke and the charred remains of incinerated Arachnid bugs, figures began to emerge—Team 2, or rather, what was left of them. They sprinted forward, a desperate retreat, pursued relentlessly by a swarm of Warrior Bugs. Kenthelion's forces responded instantly, unleashing brutal, pinpoint suppressive fire. Plasma blasts slammed into chitinoid bodies, tearing them apart with surgical precision.
Only four members of Team 2 had survived.
Major Henry Vallow stumbled forward from the line, his uniform torn, his body drenched in blood and the yellow ichor of alien creatures. His gaze swept across the room—then froze. Before him stood rows of heavily armed, heavily armored troops in strange colors: blue, red, black, white—patterns not listed in any Federation registry. Their weapons, too, were far from standard issue: larger, more intricate, and unmistakably more lethal.
His eyes also caught sight of mobile infantry units—but something was off. The shapes were familiar, but the extreme modifications had turned them into something else entirely. Machines of war, no longer just men.
With a face twisted in confusion, Henry stepped forward and opened a comm channel with the A-01 infantry.
Major Henry Vallow
"What the hell is going on? Who are all these foreign troops and modified infantry?"
Lieutenant Tony Daugherty
"They're Captain Kenthelion's personal forces. Yeah, I know—models and numbers way beyond regulation. How many of your team are still alive?"
Major Henry (grimly)
"Four. Those bugs came at us from every direction. We were surrounded. Nearly wiped out…"
Lieutenant Tony Daugherty
"We almost didn't make it either. If it weren't for Kenthelion's troops, we'd all be corpses by now. We've taken heavy losses too."
Henry gave a slow nod. Then suddenly, he raised his head, as if remembering something. His eyes shifted to Carmen, who stood rigid near the console.
Major Henry
"By the way, Captain Carmen—I found Carl."
Carmen (eyes narrowing)
"What?"
Major Henry
"He's alive. Locked himself in a safe room and refused evacuation. He's… unstable. Talking to himself. Delirious. Like he's lost his mind."
Carmen (gritting her teeth)
"That bastard's still breathing? My ship's crawling with Arachnids, my entire crew is dead, and he holes up like a coward?"
Major Henry
"I don't know what happened to him. But psychologically, he's clearly gone. We couldn't get through his barricade. He won't come out."
Carmen
"Forget him. I haven't reclaimed the John A. Warden yet, and I don't have time to deal with Carl's madness right now."
She turned then, eyes settling on Kenthelion, who leaned casually against the wall, looking almost indifferent to the chaos around him. But Carmen knew better. That laid-back attitude was just a mask. The man always had more plans than he let on.
Carmen
"Kenthelion… how do I take back my ship?"
After hearing what Carmen said, Kenthelion strolled over to her with lazy confidence. He leaned down slightly and whispered something into her ear—a short, vulgar sentence dripping with indecent intent.
Carmen's eyes widened instantly. Her face flushed red, whether from anger, embarrassment, or both. She shoved Kenthelion hard in the chest, making him stumble back a little.
"Bastard! Would it kill you not to say something so disgusting? You're going to die in some woman's arms, you perverted piece of shit!"
Kenthelion only grinned lazily, clearly relishing her reaction.
"You shameless… perverted asshole!" she shouted again, breathless with fury.
Her fists clenched, holding back the urge to hurl something at his head. But after a deep breath, Carmen finally spoke again—this time softer, though her tone was still laced with venom.
"Fine. I promise. If I manage to take back John A. Warden, I'll… keep my word."
Her face was still burning. Not out of fear—Carmen was never afraid of anyone—but because she hated admitting that, somehow, that insufferable bastard had gotten under her skin with a single filthy whisper.
----
Autocannon

The autocannon is a heavy, self-loading ballistic weapon capable of delivering sustained fire of solid high-velocity projectiles. It is widely employed by the military forces of both the Imperium of Man and the Leagues of Votann.
Originating in the 2nd Millennium during the Age of Terra, this ancient weapon has remained a staple of warfare throughout the Imperium's long and tumultuous history. Its rapid rate of fire makes it well-suited for suppressing enemy positions and supporting advancing infantry.
Autocannons are particularly effective against light vehicles and fortified positions at range. While not as powerful per shot as a lascannon, they offer a much higher rate of fire and are less prone to overheating. However, their high ammunition requirements pose a significant logistical burden. Their sheer size, unappealing appearance, and powerful recoil typically restrict them to vehicle mounts or dedicated heavy weapons teams.
Historically, autocannon rounds once contained explosive charges similar to those found in bolt shells—though on a much larger scale. Unfortunately, the knowledge to produce such munitions has been lost to time and the decay of Imperial science. Modern autocannon ammunition is no longer as potent, but remains more than capable of shredding heavy infantry and lightly armored vehicles. As such, the autocannon remains a trusted and versatile support weapon for Astra Militarum fire support teams.
Although standard autocannons are intended to be fired from a fixed bipod mount with an armored glacis, extreme circumstances sometimes see physically powerful individuals wielding them directly in combat, using sling harnesses for support. This method—often referred to as a "high-spirited approach"—is rarely sanctioned and generally discouraged by Imperial command.
Use Among the Adeptus Astartes
Strangely, autocannons are largely disregarded by the Adeptus Astartes. Despite their transhuman physiques and the strength-enhancing power armor they wear—more than sufficient to wield autocannons with ease—most Loyalist Chapters favor other ranged options. For high rates of fire, they prefer Heavy Bolters or Assault Cannons; for single-shot lethality, Lascannons or Multi-meltas are preferred.
In contrast, Heretic Astartes who serve the Ruinous Powers make frequent use of autocannons. Their rugged construction and low maintenance demands make them ideal for Chaos Space Marine warbands that often lack the support infrastructure to maintain more complex weaponry.
---
Notable Patterns of Imperial Autocannon
Agrippina Pattern Mark II
A common autocannon model used throughout the Astra Militarum. Valued for its simplicity and ease of mass production.
Gryphonne IV Pattern
Originally manufactured on the now-lost Forge World of Gryphonne IV. Frequently mounted on Salamander Scout Vehicles, this smoothbore autocannon loads ammunition via a four-round feed tray with manual reloads. Additional features include a recoil suppressor, electronic sighting system, and rangefinder.
Herakles Pattern Accelerator Cannon
An ancient variant found exclusively on Sicaran Battle Tanks. Fires at extreme velocities, allowing accurate targeting of fast-moving enemies.
Ironhail Autocannon
A Dreadnought-class weapon mounted on the Invictor Tactical Warsuit. Delivers overwhelming close- to mid-range firepower through a barrage of high-caliber rounds.
M34 Autocannon
An older model still widely used in the Calixis Sector. Mounted on a tripod and operable by a single soldier, though typically deployed with a two-person crew for transport and reload efficiency.
Mauler Autocannon "Six/Twelve"
A heavily modified twin-barrel M34 designed for use by Ogryns in the Spinward Front. Reinforced with shortened barrels, oversized grips, and triple safeties to withstand Ogryn strength. Nicknamed "Six/Twelve" by standard guardsmen, referencing the average number of shots an Ogryn fires before either breaking the weapon or opting to use it as a club.
Syrtis Pattern Autocannon
A variant commonly mounted on the Predator Destructor battle tank.
Accelerator Autocannon
A rapid-fire autocannon that launches rounds at much higher velocities than standard models. A compact version is wielded by Primaris Vanguard Suppressors, offering a balance of speed and precision.
Icarus Autocannon
A large anti-air autocannon deployed in Imperial flak emplacements and Imperial Knight armaments. When mounted on Knights, it's connected directly to the pilot's mind via the