Having extracted the requisite data, Axion discarded the now-thoroughly analyzed Kin vessel, casting it toward the planet's surface. Whether its occupants survived was left to the mercies of their Ancestors.
The mechanical forces occupying the surface outposts did not slaughter the remaining Kin. Instead, they efficiently stripped the camp's warehouses of all stored metallic ores, loaded the haul onto transport craft, and commenced a full extraction.
Of the fortress that had crashed onto the surface, only half remained. Once the Machine Weaver at the starport completed its reconstruction, Axion could begin the total reclamation of its materials. The remainder of the fleet could be fabricated mid-transit; it was a negligible concern.
From the star-charts seized from the mining ship, Axion had not only located several candidate worlds likely to house Ancestor Cores but also a vast number of mineral-rich planets belonging to the Leagues of Votann. Axion intended to visit several of these systems first, expanding the fleet and his mechanical legions before pushing further.
After all, the worlds harboring the Ancestor Cores were deep within the heart of Kin territory. Sufficient military might was necessary to ensure his operations remained unimpeded, and a planetary-scale search required a massive commitment of materiel and troops. According to the data, the Kin were exceptionally adept at fortifying subterranean strongholds.
…
Twenty-four Terran hours later, the silence from the mining ship finally drew the attention of the League. A small flotilla arrived at the planet, situated on the fringes of the 'Far Rim' near the Galactic Core.
After surveying the forward camps on the surface, the Kin discovered a massive planetary wound on the far side of the globe and the wreckage of the mining ship. They successfully rescued a dozen scarred, traumatized Hearthkyn. From their fractured testimonies, the League attempted to piece together the sequence of events.
Yet, they remained uncertain as to where these "iron-clads" had originated. Nevertheless, an urgent warning was broadcast from the rescue fleet across the sector:
A host of unknown automata is searching for the Ancestor Cores; their presence poses a potentially existential threat to the survival of the Kin.
While this warning caught the attention of several Leagues, the Votann currently possessed no immediate countermeasure. Each League's Ancestor Core had been relocated multiple times, hidden in the most secure reaches possible. As for their ancient homeworlds, those had long since devolved into a colossal battlefield.
Within the tides of the Warp, the silver fleet sailed at a measured pace. A third of the massive fortress was still being towed in the wake of the lead ships. Nanites flowed constantly over the tractor arrays, steadily disassembling the fortress even as they moved.
In a single day, Axion had expanded his fleet from two ships to six. The four new additions included salvaged and refitted industrial ships, Machine Weavers, alongside a Strike Cruiser, an Assault Cruiser, and an HG-class Heavy Carrier.
In a few hours, Axion would arrive at his first objective: a reserve mineral world claimed by the Ymyr Conglomerate.
…
"Fahn, have you noticed the Squats acting strangely of late? Their offensive seems to be tapering off."
An Astartes clad in grey power armor, the wolf-head heraldry of his Chapter gracing his pauldron, voiced his suspicion to his battle-brother.
The Astartes known as Fahn looked out over the unnervingly quiet front lines. He crouched slightly to evade a stray bolt shell before standing back up.
"My brother, these short ones are not easily broken. Even if their fire-rate has dropped these past days, we are still bleeding."
"The mortal elements have lost over five thousand men. Two days ago, Captain Karl reported we have lost thirteen brothers. Our supplies are dwindling."
As he spoke, Fahn raised his bolt rifle and unleashed a precise burst. Across the Kin lines, three of the enemy were struck. Their personal shields flickered and collapsed under the kinetic overload, but the follow-up bolts merely knocked the well-equipped Hearthkyn off their feet without dealing a killing blow.
Fahn clicked his tongue in annoyance and vaulted down into the trench.
The mortal soldiers in the trench offered hurried salutes before rushing back to their firing steps. Their gear was far superior to that of standard Astra Militarum regiments; their flak armor was heavier and more reinforced, and their helmets bore unique skull motifs. On their shoulder guards, a faded string of letters could still be discerned:
Cadian 76
"Sir, we've observed the Votann appearing to withdraw," a Cadian vox-operator reported, running up to the two Space Wolves with the latest intelligence from the forward scouts.
Fahn nodded, gesturing for his battle-brother to hold the line and assist the Cadians in their defense. He then climbed out of the trench and headed toward a nearby dugout that served as the temporary field headquarters.
The towering warrior pushed aside a slab of Leman Russ hull plating that served as the command post's door. Inside, several mortal officers sat around a folding military table.
"Colonel Nalott, give me the latest on the front," Fahn commanded.
Nalott did not immediately respond. He simply nodded and turned back to his sub-commanders. "Proceed with the orders. Fortify the defenses. We are running out of hands."
As the officers filed out, Nalott looked up at Fahn and pointed to a crude tactical map on the table.
"Your timing is impeccable, Captain Fahn. We require the wisdom of the Emperor's Angels." Nalott traced his finger over several points on the map.
"In the last forty-eight hours, we've engaged the Votann in over twelve skirmishes at these locations. The Squats were resolute. But an hour ago, the tenor of the battle changed. Our lookouts have spotted their transports evacuating troops from the line."
"We initially suspected a flanking maneuver, but the reality is stranger."
Fahn removed his helmet, revealing a weathered face. Unlike other Chapters, the gene-seed of the Space Wolves caused their features to take on lupine characteristics with age. If they failed to resist the flaw, they would succumb to the Curse of the Wulfen, becoming little more than beasts. Even those who mastered it could not entirely escape the change; their teeth were more like a wolf's fangs than a human's.
"The Squats are leaving, aren't they?"
Nalott nodded. "According to the claims they made when we first made planetfall, this world is a 'Core-ancestor' site for one of their Kindreds. We were the invaders. Yet now, they are abandoning the planet in a feverish hurry."
"We've fought them long enough to know they are a stubborn, tenacious foe. But now they flee. We do not know what has compelled them to forsake their home, but evidently, it is an enemy they cannot hope to withstand."
Fahn did not argue. He scratched at his head. "We must strike them while they are in disarray. We need to seize their landing fields and, ideally, secure a ship. There are still twenty thousand loyal Cadians on this line; we need a cruiser-class vessel at the very least. I will deploy two Cadian shock-squads to assist you."
As they spoke, a vox-transmission chirped within Fahn's armor.
"Fahn, this is Karl. The Squats are fleeing the planet. Something is hounding them, and that bodes ill for us. I need you to muster all battle-brothers on the line. We rendezvous in twenty minutes. The Techmarine tells me he has salvaged a few functional Thunderhawks from the wreckage of our ship."
"For Russ and the Allfather, my brother."