Deep beneath the surface, Axion was unaware that a detachment of the Adeptus Mechanicus was already en route, attempting to establish contact with the faction he represented.
Even if he had known, it would have been of little consequence.
Since the first War Raven drone was launched, it had completed a preliminary scan and mapping of the entire Hive City. Regardless of how many of the old machines were still dormant, their mechanical technologies and components, down to the most concealed scanning arrays, had been synchronously transmitted and logged within Axion's core data banks.
Though his physical chassis limited the processing power of his central analytical unit compared to the efficiency of ship-borne Sapient Machine Design Centre cores or other large-scale terminals, Axion's specially optimized core possessed unparalleled coordination capability.
Every construct within the maintenance facility was under his command; every cogitator core within his network could be utilized for its processing power. This immense computational web, coupled with Axion's unique algorithms, allowed him to rapidly calculate all necessary data.
"Hm. All small and medium-scale equipment contained within this structure poses no threat to me. As long as I am not targeted by heavy ordnance, I am secure."
As the data streams continued to be parsed within his core, Axion felt no concern regarding the potential for external threats. After all, his primary core remained thousands of metres underground; short of a full-scale destructive weapon, nothing could touch him.
Bleep.
[War Raven detects a party moving towards the surface Fragmentation Cannon turret. Identifying markings and sigils… Adeptus Mechanicus.]
As the long-range signal was received, Axion directly linked to one of the War Raven's optical sensors, scrutinizing the convoy as it approached.
"The Adeptus Mechanicus… My core data banks record them primarily as heavily modified humanoids, fanatical tech-adepts who favour the mechanization of their own flesh. Perhaps I will soon witness these descendants of the so-called 'Creator Race'."
Axion felt a sense of anticipation regarding the Mechanicus's arrival.
However, a personal meeting would be difficult. The continuous orbital bombardments had ruined parts of the surface, and the few automatic lifts leading above were severely damaged. To reach the surface, Axion would likely have to, like the War Ravens, launch himself from the depot's pipe projection system.
…
"Creak!"
As the track-driven braking system engaged, the Triaros slowly shuddered to a halt. The first to emerge from the rear ramp was the commander of the Skitarii detachment, Alonas.
"Enginseer, we have arrived."
Stepping out of the crew compartment, Alonas, like the surrounding Skitarii, curiously craned his neck, minutely examining the colossal defensive structure that had abruptly manifested from the mountainside.
"I have never witnessed a design such as this. It bears some resemblance to certain wargear, yet my data-recollection finds no matching schematics. Perhaps you, Enginseer Morlan, can identify the source of this design."
As he spoke, Alonas turned his augmented gaze towards Morlan, who was just disembarking from the compartment.
Morlan offered no response to Alonas's query, instead focusing his attention on the still-erect massive gun. His cybernetically-enhanced eyes, a tangle of operational scanning equipment, repeatedly analyzed the titanic machine before him.
Running the image through the manifold extensions of his memory core, Morlan finally concluded that the structure before him did not belong to any weapon currently registered and catalogued by the Imperium or the Mechanicus.
Realizing this might be an artefact from an ancient ruin, perhaps even a holy relic of this world, Morlan's excitement caused him to sputter a stream of incoherent High Gothic. Even Alonas, standing near, could only distinguish fragments such as, 'Posterity of the Omnissiah,' 'Praise the God-Emperor,' and 'Pious gratitude.'
"Enginseer? Are you well?"
Out of goodwill, Alonas cautiously gave a small shake to the ecstatic Morlan.
Jolted and unable to focus on his observation, Morlan turned, his mechanical visage betraying irritation.
"Damnation! Why do you still stand idle? Immediately deploy your men to survey the defensive structure! But take heed! Do not fire wantonly, and do not damage anything! All of this shall be the blessing of the Omnissiah!"
Momentarily stunned by the sudden roar, Alonas's thought processes paused, then immediately set about executing Morlan's order.
His multiple cybernetic augmentations and conditioned brain prevented him from harbouring any resentment or dissatisfaction towards a senior member of the Adeptus Mechanicus. An internal monitoring module constantly adjusted his hormone secretions to govern his emotional expression; all dissatisfaction and anger were suppressed and purged.
"Form up! Commence dispersed exploratory sweep! No offensive equipment is to be used without authorization. Combat Servitors and Battle Servitors are to accompany the sweep. Battle Servitors are permitted priority withdrawal if necessary."
Relative to the standard Skitarii personnel and regular Combat Servitors, the four higher-grade Battle Servitors in the convoy were far more valuable. Whether Skitarii or Servitor, all were private property of the Adeptus Mechanicus, and even an Enginseer could not waste them wantonly, let alone a mere commander like Alonas.
These Battle Servitors were typically modified from combat-experienced criminals or former combatants who had offended the Mechanicus. Their minds were stripped, retaining only ferocious combat instincts and a fraction of their martial skill. Furthermore, their armaments consisted of weapons that no standard soldier could wield, some of which even a regular Astartes warrior would struggle to utilize effectively.
"Boom! Boom! Boom!"
Just as Alonas was directing his squad to disperse, several incandescent beams suddenly erupted from the edge of a nearby hill.
A dozen Skitarii and Combat Servitors were instantly reduced to piles of shredded viscera and scrap.
"Enemy attack! All units assume combat readiness!"
"Incoming bolter fire detected! Target acquisition complete! Traitor Death Guard!"
The Battle Servitors, with their integrated auspex units, identified the assailants almost instantaneously.
As mechanical warnings blared, the Battle Servitors immediately raised their heavily-armoured limbs. Using one arm to shield their vital components, the heavy bolters mounted on their other arms unleashed a torrent of counter-fire. Massive sheets of flame billowed from the barrels, the tail-flames of the bolt shells propelling the ordnance through the air.
"Thud! Thud! Thud!"
A succession of explosions erupted along the hill's crest, while more bolt shells screamed over the hillside and into the sky.
Evading the return fire, several dark shapes began to run in a swift, erratic fashion, leaping and constantly shifting their position as they advanced on the convoy.
For the cybernetically-enhanced Skitarii and Combat Servitors, the differences in ambient light were inconsequential. In their augmented vision, the power armour, a sickly verdigris, and the ceaseless dripping of foul fluids from their bodies emitted a nauseating stench.
As the green figures moved, the bolter rounds they fired effortlessly punched gaping holes through the Skitarii ranks. The ground was quickly stained with the scanty blood of the men, mingled with vast quantities of machine oil from the fallen Servitors and Skitarii.
At the first crack of gunfire, Enginseer Morlan had retreated into the transport's crew compartment. Shielded by the thick, master-crafted armour plating, he immediately wrested control of the weapons-controlling Servitor aboard the Triaros.
Using the enhanced optical systems, Morlan stroked his metallic chin with a mechanical hand, a flicker of curiosity in his augmented gaze.
"Plague Marines? Were they deployed by that Strike Cruiser we detected in orbit?"