Axion offered no response to the maneuvers of the Imperial forces. The Pectaro remained adrift in the orbit of Vorchad III, maintaining a twenty-four-hour vigil against the potential emergence of Tyranid bio-fleets.
Recently, however, sightings of Tyranid vessels had grown increasingly sparse.
While the Tyranids possessed formidable evolutionary adaptability, the splinter fleets following the Hive Mind's will to probe and collect data on the enemy had completed their task. Guided by other Hive Ships, the Great Devourer had arrived at a cold, logical conclusion.
To mitigate the catastrophic damage caused by high-energy particle streams, a vast quantity of biomass would be required to force the evolution of every bio-ship and mature war-beast. Yet, the hostile entity possessing this lethal capability was a singular, metallic machine-intelligence. Even a victory would result in a net loss of biomass that could not be recouped.
The Hive Mind's only directive was hunger. To grow hungrier through the act of consumption was a biological paradox it would not entertain. Thus, the Leviathan splinter-tendril "Grendyllus" began to exert its will, attempting to bypass this unpalatable system entirely.
As Lord Solar Leontus and his commanders worked to purge the remaining worlds of the system, a situation developed that exceeded even their strategic projections.
Beyond the Eternal Night worlds, the Tyranid offensive in surrounding systems accelerated. Swarms of bio-fleets hurled themselves against the Imperial defensive lines with renewed ferocity. Numerous Solblades began to retreat behind this main front, escorting survivors from an increasing number of fallen zones.
Consequently, the system designated as an "avoidance zone" by the Great Devourer became a critical staging ground for the Imperium. Space stations were hastily erected, and countless Imperial vessels arrived to resupply. Vorchad III had become the most prominent salient in Segmentum Pacificus, flanked by the primary war fronts the Imperium was struggling to maintain.
Throughout this month, Axion remained fully focused on his dominion over Vorchad III.
The equipment "requisitioned" for free from the Industrial World had been merged and refurbished. Soon after, the first production line for Sapient Machine Automatons was operational. Finished metal materials, refined from the ruins of the Hives, flowed in a steady stream into the reconstructed factories.
Production efficiency climbed steadily. As the new automatons bolstered the workforce, the Automated Sentry-Troopers were liberated from manual labor. The humanoid structural design of the Sapient Machine Automaton proved far more efficient than the Sentry-Troopers, whose limbs were encumbered by neutron beam emitters.
The machines worked without pause, devoid of the need for rest.
Hampered by the inferior simulated standard production lines of the Adeptus Mechanicus, Axion was forced to station a portion of the automata on the lines to maintain output. Even so, once the factory's capacity rose from ten thousand units a day to sixty thousand, it hit a hard ceiling.
The Mechanicus production lines were archaic and inefficient, cluttered with redundant processing machinery rather than utilizing quantum decomposition and printing technologies. This was precisely why Axion had prioritized the production of Sapient Machine Automaton.
With the labor shortage temporarily mitigated, numerous furnaces were ignited.
Massive clumps of mixed metal conglomerates were hoisted from the "Glass Lakes" and dragged by Eight-Legs to factories that lacked even basic walls. Constructing walls was a waste of time; Axion simply erected colossal sheds to cover the operations. Scorching heat billowed between the machines.
Under precise calculation, a complex and highly efficient material transport system was constructed, with equipment maintained at the absolute minimum safety clearance. This hyper-dense accumulation of machinery would have been a waking nightmare for any mortal worker.
Operating at full capacity, the environment hovered less than 5% below safety limits for extreme heat. Toxins from ignited prometheum fuels filled the air, accompanied by the bone-shaking cacophony of massive machinery. A mortal man would have collapsed into a mental break within minutes.
The narrow gangways and restricted maintenance spaces were so limited that even the Tech-Priests of the Adeptus Mechanicus would have been struck silent by the sheer lack of safety protocols. To Axion, however, safety was an absolute constant.
Machines do not suffer from curiosity, nor do they make mistakes. Any malfunction was met with an instantaneous response. All production equipment had been retrofitted with rudimentary intelligence and a vast array of sensors. The Sapient Machine Automatons patrolling the lines didn't even need to touch a switch; they could remotely deactivate and repair any faulty machine in their vicinity. In a realm of total standardization, "accidents" were non-existent.
Driven by a deep distrust of Mechanicus craftsmanship, Axion scheduled temporary calibrations for all equipment every three Terran days. He sought to ensure that these inferior machines, plastered with Mechanicus icons and meaningless litanies, would not fail under the strain. To ensure manufacturing precision, he purged all original programs and data presets, re-transcribing a production intelligence unit to integrate the machinery. The entire factory functioned as a single, independent collective of production intelligence.
Though it was barely a half-finished prototype compared to a standard factory of his era, it finally freed Axion from overseeing daily operations. Once the data parameters were set, he needed only to designate the production quotas.
Following the automatons, batches of Eight-Legs drifted out of the factories. The minerals of this planet required no deep mining; they only needed to be excavated in chunks from the "Mountain of Corpses"—the ruins of the old hive—and fed into the refining vats. These flexible, high-capacity Eight-Legs were the ideal units for the task, negating the need for specialized transport vehicles.
In just two months, a spaceport was thrust into the sky from the planet's surface. Utilizing a tectonic rift torn open by a Hive Ship, a massive metal foundation was laid. The metal mountain had been completely carved away, replaced by a titanic, pillar-like spire reaching into the void. Geothermal energy was siphoned directly from the core to power the new facility.
For the first time since the conflict began, the Pectaro ceased its drifting and docked at a port of its own. However, with the construction still underway, the vessel's sheer bulk made it appear larger than the spaceport itself.
The siphoned metal alloys were refined without interruption. Aside from what was consumed for construction, the remainder was cast into various ingots and stacked in neat, monolithic rows across the planet's surface. Since the previous plasma storms had scoured the atmosphere of oxygen, there was no threat of oxidation.
The underground hive structures were cleared once more. Every component related to biological life-support was dismantled. The former Underhive hab-blocks were converted into massive warehouses, their convoluted and chaotic layouts torn down and rebuilt by armies of Sapient Machine Automatons.
The few Gene-Stealers lucky enough to have survived the initial purge found themselves with nowhere left to run.
Though these automatons were auxiliary units, they were far from helpless. Equipped with laser cutters and welding torches, the mechanical strength inherent in their frames was devastating. An automaton could effortlessly seize a lunging Genestealer and crush its skull, using its short-range laser cutter to surgically dismantle the xenos in the cramped confines of the sub-levels.
Equipped with bio-detection modules, these Sapient Machine Automatons could not be ambushed like the Astartes; even if a xenos lurked in the ventilation ducts, it was instantly flagged for termination.
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