A cup of Liber-tea?

 Deployment Zone: Planet Meridia, Sector A-17 Objective: Deploy Seismic Charge and hold extraction zone. Squad: Hell-Diver Delta-4 (Callsigns: Fist, Rook, Ares, Viper)

The atmosphere of Meridia was a sickly, humid green, thick with biological spores and the omnipresent stench of chitin and decay.

"Helldivers, prepare for drop. The fate of Managed Democracy rests on this dive," the Super Earth announcer crackled through the Squad Leader's helmet, a voice of synthetic, unwavering optimism.

"You heard the man, Rook! Buckle up, buttercup! Time to introduce these bugs to the concept of equal opportunity death!" shouted Sergeant Fist (Lvl 18, Breaker Specialist), slapping the shoulder plate of Rook (Lvl 3, Medic) with a sound like two tin cans colliding.

"Affirmative, Sergeant. For Super Earth!" Rook squeaked, already sweating inside his heavy-duty armor.

The Hellpod struck the ground with a force that momentarily silenced the nearby skittering noise. Delta-4 disembarked, immediately deploying their respective support weapons. Ares, a veteran with a penchant for high-explosives, shouldered his Autocannon, while Viper unlimbered the ferocious recoil of his Machine Gun.

The immediate problem: they were surrounded by mushroom-like fungal growths that pulsed with light, illuminating the hordes of scurrying, orange-streaked Terminid Hunters.

"Rook, get the seismic charge deployed! Ares, give us suppression fire on that ridge! Viper, watch our six—they're closing fast!" Fist barked, his Breaker shotgun already spitting democracy-laden pellets into a wave of Scavengers.

Rook dashed to the designated drop zone, a crater teeming with insect activity. He wrestled the cumbersome, cylindrical Hellbomb out of its carrying case, jamming the activation sequencer onto the wet earth.

BEEP... BEEP... The bomb’s countdown was loud enough to be heard over the rising tide of bug screeches. 120 seconds remaining.

"It's set! Two minutes!" Rook yelled, scrambling back towards the squad.

Suddenly, a massive, car-sized figure burst from the spore fog: a Charger. Its armored head lowered, preparing to clear a path straight through the Helldivers.

"Ares! Target the weak spot! Give it some anti-tank Liber-Tea!" Fist commanded, diving out of the Charger's path just as it stampeded over the spot where he stood.

Ares steadied the Autocannon. The first shell glanced off the thick frontal plate. The second found its target, cracking the heavy armor on the Charger's leg. The third shell tore through the exposed flesh underneath, sending the beast tumbling in a geyser of greenish-yellow acidic blood.

100 seconds remaining.

Then the ground began to tremble. Not from the charge, but from something bigger. Something terrifying.

"Sergeant, we have a Bile Titan!" Viper screamed, pouring belt after belt of 5.56mm into the endless stream of Hunters now trying to climb over Ares.

The Bile Titan, a colossus of dripping muscle and chitin, emerged from the haze. It was easily three stories tall, its maw slowly opening to reveal the corrosive green hell within. It was going to spew.

"Concentrate fire! Rook, you got any 500KG up your sleeve?" Fist asked, reloading his Breaker.

"Negative, I used my stratagem on the last Stalker nest!" Rook replied, struggling to keep a few smaller Terminids off him with his sidearm.

The Titan opened its mouth, preparing to annihilate Delta-4.

"Alright, Helldivers! New orders! The mission takes priority! Ares, Viper, cover Rook and get to the extraction beacon! I'll buy you ten seconds of freedom!" Fist said, his voice hard as tempered steel.

"Fist, no!" Ares protested, seeing the sergeant prime a few grenades.

"YES! Go! Tell the boys back home I died hugging a Bile Titan! For Super Earth!"

With a roar that was more patriotic than fearful, Sergeant Fist sprinted directly toward the Bile Titan's massive foot. He detonated a single high-explosive grenade, purely as a distraction, before emptying his shotgun into the Titan’s kneecap. The Titan, momentarily annoyed by the tiny insect attacking its ankle, shifted its attention downwards, its corrosive payload splashing harmlessly onto the ground meters away from the remaining squad members.

That was the ten seconds. Ares grabbed Rook, and Viper laid down a smokescreen of fire as they sprinted toward the extraction beacon, leaving their leader to his final, glorious moment.

30 seconds remaining.

The extraction beacon was thrown, and the familiar blue shield began to charge.

"Orbital Strike on my coordinates!" Viper screamed into his radio, designating Fist's last known location.

A brilliant red beam sliced through the spore-choked sky—the Orbital Laser. It struck the Titan's head just as the monster crushed Sergeant Fist underfoot. The Titan bellowed, staggering, its armor melting under the furious beam of light.

10 seconds remaining.

The ground split open. A flash of white-hot light consumed the landscape. The seismic charge had detonated, collapsing the entire hatchery and turning the area into a massive, burning sinkhole.

The extraction shuttle arrived just as the shockwave hit, sending dust and debris everywhere. Ares and Viper hauled the shell-shocked Rook aboard.

Back on the Super Destroyer, the mission was logged: Objective Achieved. One casualty: Sergeant Fist, who executed a brilliant self-sacrifice, ensuring mission success and the spread of Managed Democracy.

Viper stood beside Ares, watching Rook being tended to by a medical drone.

"He went out like a hero, Ares."

Ares took a sip of lukewarm black coffee—labeled continued"Liber-Tea"—and nodded, his eyes fixed on the holographic mission report. "The best of us always do, Viper. The best of us always do."