Planet Vorchad III.
Imperial Mining World.
Tithe Grade: Exactis Secundus.
As a mining world, Vorchad III was required to surrender vast quantities of diverse ores and a significant levy of manpower to the Imperium annually. Developed only within the last few decades, the planet boasted immense mineral reserves, the riches of which had lined the pockets of the local Planetary Governor to the point of overflowing.
Beyond the tithe-mandated ores, a massive surplus was traded to other systems for foodstuffs and capital. The food was used to sustain an ever-growing population to drive mining efficiency, while the capital funded the expansion of hive cities and the construction of new manufactorums. This influx of settlers ensured a robust labor pool. Even though the Exactis Secundus tithe stripped the planet of twenty percent of its mineral output and one-eighth of its able-bodied miners every year, the sheer abundance of the crust easily offset these losses.
Specifically, the planet yielded rare Promethium-derivative minerals. These materials commanded exorbitant prices on the galactic market and were in desperate demand by the Adeptus Mechanicus and the industrial Forge Worlds of the Imperium.
All this data flickered through the appended information lists provided to Axion.
Considering the directive in his authorization logs, to maintain and protect the local collection of Imperial tithes, Axion's electronic brain nearly flirted with a logic-lock.
Extracting minerals was no hardship for an Iron Man.
However, the requirement to surrender one-eighth of the population to the Astra Militarum?
Axion, having just completed a low-orbit scan of the planet, felt a mechanical sense of futility. There were still millions of life signs registering on the surface. But even a cursory analysis revealed that these biological silhouettes were Tyranid combat-forms.
The shattered hive cities were drowning in pillars of fire. The planetary surface was pockmarked with bio-reclamation pools. Aside from Tyranid bio-constructs, not a single surplus organism remained. Every tree had been uprooted by the Hive Mind's swarm and cast into the digestion vats.
The Hive Ships that had been siphoning the biomass and planetary resources had already been detonated by Axion's fire. Technically, the planet's population was still present; it had simply been rendered into nutrient slurry. The wreckage of the Hive Ships, containing colossal amounts of biomass, had plummeted to the surface, increasing the planet's total mass by one-sixth.
According to the records provided by Guilliman, the planet was due for its next tithe collection in four Terran months.
Axion made a silent notation in his cognitive logs. Once the planet was purged, he would have to ask Guilliman if submitting two Legiones Automata could substitute for the human manpower levy required for the Imperial Tithe.
But before a legion could be manufactured, every skittering lifeform on the surface had to be eradicated. Facing tens of millions of biological signatures, Axion did not hesitate.
Gargantuan plasma bursts descended from the heavens, igniting the entire world with surgical, balanced precision. The mountainous carcasses of the Hive Ships were subjected to repeated bombardment until the metallic elements they had absorbed were smelted out from the biological solution.
The planetary atmosphere collapsed under the relentless shelling. Oxygen was incinerated, replaced by a shroud of toxic gases. Intense thermal energy ensured the extinction of every organism down to the microbial level. The natural water sources, once tainted by Tyranid spores, evaporated into steam, cycling endlessly within the blackened clouds.
Under the searing kiss of plasma, the broken crust smoothed over, turning translucent. Soon, a world of molten slag and glassed plains lay before Axion's sensors.
While extreme heat was no deterrent to an Iron Man, it was somewhat "unfriendly" toward the logistics of mining.
The ship executed a rapid orbital maneuver, snagging a cluster of ice-asteroids from a nearby belt using tractor beams. Under the control of gravity anchors, these frozen monoliths were hurled down upon the dead world of Vorchad III.
Axion waited in orbit for a week. He watched as the geological tremors stabilized and the surging lakes of magma began to congeal. Deep-seated metallic solutions cooled within the craters of the glassed surface, forming standardized metallic pits. The mineral-rich remains of the Hive Ships cooled into a singular, gargantuan mound of ore. The combustible biological components had been burnt away into slag, leaving behind a concentrated deposit that favored rapid extraction.
During this week of waiting, a pair of Viper-class Scout Sloops, which had been lurking in the shadows of the void, witnessed for the first time how this strange vessel dealt with an incoming Tyranid bio-fleet.
High-energy particle streams erupted from the ship's flanks, crossing the void in beautiful lances of light. They pierced the hulls of the bio-ships, shattering cellular structures at a molecular level before vanishing into deep space or the bowels of the larger leviathans. These horrific xenos vessels could not even close the distance before they began to undergo biological disintegration mid-flight. Though Tyranids possessed formidable regenerative capabilities, high-energy particles that unraveled the very genome rendered such adaptation useless.
Even the massive, battleship-scale bio-ships that relied on sheer density of flesh to endure the particle beams were easily incinerated by the follow-up plasma volleys. The terrifying heat stripped away metallic-bonded chitinous shells. Erratic electrical discharges paralyzed biological nervous systems. The drifting, uncontrolled husks were then greeted by a second wave of particle fire; without armor, the exposed flesh underwent rapid mutation and necrosis.
Finally, the xenos vessels simply burst apart into clouds of shattered biomass.
The entire process possessed an alien aesthetic, much like watching swarms of insects fly into a flame or a kinetic zapper. It was efficient, rapid, and absolute.
Axion had detected the two Viper scouts long ago. However, noting the Imperial Aquila emblazoned on their hulls, he offered no reaction. He had no intention of initiating communication.
His authorization was clear: Axion was to restore production on several nearby worlds and complete the Imperial Tithes to calculate his "Contribution." If Imperial forces requested aid, he would earn additional credit.
Now was not the time to ask if they needed help. Axion had to solve the mining problem first and establish a base of operations. Many of the systems he had salvaged from Imperial shipwrecks needed to be deployed to the surface.
First, he needed to expand his own strength to better accumulate Imperial military merit.
Axion understood that the merit of others was calculated by individual kills or the achievement of specific objectives. His metrics were different. If he were measured by the standards of regular Imperial troops, there would be no distinction between himself and a single automated unit. The difficulty of a tank firing a shell to kill a hundred enemies was fundamentally different from a mortal soldier killing a hundred enemies with a lasgun.
His calculation method was markedly distinct from the rank-and-file. Perhaps it was unfair, but Axion did not care. Mortal troops reclaimed a world with oceans of blood and effort, paying with their lives. Perhaps that was the value of their existence.
But to an Iron Man, such concepts were meaningless. It required only that the production lines run for two extra days. With a bit of time spent sanitizing the battlefield after the war, nothing would be lost save for ammunition and energy.