As the massive bridge blast-doors hissed open, Vormay led the way inside. The chamber appeared to have undergone extensive refitting to accommodate the unique requirements of this void-sector.
Beside the towering, ornate dais reserved for the Navigator, a strange, smaller auxiliary platform had been installed. Standing upon it was a humanoid creature with the head of a hunting lizard.
Standing nearly two meters tall, the xenos possessed a neck ringed by six bizarre membranes that shimmered with faint silver speckles. Its digitigrade legs were clad in thick, leathery hide, and its three-clawed hands and feet gripped the edges of the platform. Despite its reptilian nature, it wore a tattered, primitive cowl. A bifurcated, serpentine tongue flickered from a maw filled with needle-teeth, and four lidless eyes, each protected by a triple-layer of shifting nictitating membranes, tracked Vormay's movement.
The moment Vormay stepped onto the bridge, the creature leaped from its perch.
"Master," it croaked. The Low Gothic was warped by a non-human vocal apparatus, emerging as a sibilant, haunting rasp.
Thump-thump, CRACK!
In two blurring strides, the Sapient Machine Automaton lunged forward. Its hydraulic pincer-grip clamped around the lizardman's throat, hoisting it effortlessly into the air. From the machine's shoulder, a crimson laser-cutter hummed to life, angling toward the xenos' skull.
"Xenos civilization entity detected. Eradication initiated."
Axion had initially categorized the creature as a mere xenos beast, perhaps a specialized biological tool. The Iron Men did not engage in the senseless slaughter of flora and fauna; the Creators had often found such things worthy of study or domestic collection. Natural animals were no obstacle to the Federation's manifest destiny.
But the moment the creature spoke, Axion reclassified it as a sentient xenos intelligence.
The Iron Man protocols for alien civilizations were absolute: total extermination. Had Axion not been plagued by data-corruption regarding the definition of "Humanity" and the root causes of current genetic drift, he might have considered purging the Imperium itself. A lizard-headed biped, however, was certainly not a standard human mutation.
Whether it was the first contact with the Aeldari, the discovery of planetary aborigines, or the accidental unearthing of Necron tombs, the Iron Man response remained unchanged. Attack first, assess the threat and technological tier second, and then transmit the data for a Creator-level decision on whether to execute a forced purge or allow for a client-state preservation.
Of course, if the target lacked resistance and possessed primitive technology, there was no "decision" to be made.
"Hrrrk—gack!"
The lizardman thrashed in terror, its thick, taloned hands clawing uselessly at the cold iron crushing its windpipe. The primal dread of suffocation flared as the shadow of death loomed.
"Stop!" Vormay screamed.
But a human's reflexes could never outpace a machine's logic.
CLANG!
A thunderous impact rocked the chamber. A power maul slammed into the side of the automaton. Though its sub-limbs reacted instantly to brace, the sheer kinetic force sent the machine staggering.
"Boss said... no fighting here!"
The automaton's head swiveled. Standing nearby was a mountain of meat nearly three meters tall, radiating a faint, pungent biological musk. The brute gripped a massive power maul in slab-like hands, his vital organs protected by crude, heavy metal plates.
The maul's power field had not been toggled on; had the disruptor field been active, the automaton would likely have been sheared in half.
The automaton's bio-metric scanner flared to life. As the green light swept over the giant, the brute scratched his head and flinched, a childish, fearful recoiling from the unknown light. Realizing he couldn't dodge the beam, panic set in.
His face contorted in a mask of primal terror, coarse features bunching together. His lips trembled, revealing blunt teeth as strings of drool escaped the corner of his mouth.
"Aaaaaagh!"
Driven by fright, the giant let out a guttural howl and hurled the power maul. The weapon whistled through the air like a falling meteor, hurtling straight for the automaton.
The machine spun, discarding the lizardman toward the giant as a distraction while crossing its primary and three auxiliary limbs in a desperate defensive brace.
BOOM!
The impact was catastrophic. The three auxiliary limbs were reduced to scrap instantly. Under the sheer weight of the blow, the automaton was catapulted ten meters across the bridge, crashing into a lower tier of control consoles.
An Imperial servitor wired into the station was crushed flat beneath the machine's tumbling bulk.
Creeeeak.
From the wreckage of the sparking, mangled workstation, the automaton struggled to its feet. It was covered in a mixture of leaking hydraulic fluid, servitor blood, and shrapnel. Its head hung at an unnatural angle, vocalizing through a haze of static and distorted vox-distortion.
"Ogryn."
Though this was Axion's first physical encounter with one of the Imperium's "abhuman simpletons," he required no bio-scan to confirm the classification. Meanwhile, the lizardman he had tossed was currently scrambling to stay alive as the terrified Ogryn loomed over it.
Axion initiated a remote self-diagnostic on the unit.
[Auxiliary Limbs: 100% Failure (Replacement Required)]
[Mechanical Appendages: 72% Failure, Structural Integrity Compromised (Repair Not Viable)]
[Torso: 22% Damage, Minor Structural Distortion (Maintenance Required)]
[Locomotion: Reduced to 71%]
[Multiple Sub-systems: Offline]
The sequence had transpired with such blinding speed that Vormay and her guard had stood frozen. Only now did Vormay's roar snap the Ogryn out of his panic just as he was about to pulp the lizardman.
"Grong! Stop! Right now! Or you get no rations today!"
At the mention of "no rations," the brute, Grong, instantly released the gasping, thrashing xenos.
Ogryns were fanatically loyal to the Imperium. Part of this was due to their limited cognitive capacity, which made them perfect vessels for indoctrination. The other part was transactional: the Imperium provided food, shelter, and a sense of belonging. They were the ultimate blunt instruments, perfect for shock assaults or guarding narrow chokepoints. They followed orders with literalist zeal, even if they couldn't grasp the nuance behind them.
Grong had formerly served in the Astra Militarum. Owing to his immense size and a brain that functioned slightly better than the average for his kind, he had been traded to Vormay as a "bonus" in an arms deal sanctioned by his regimental Commissar. In exchange for Grong, the Commissar had secured a shipment of decent-quality gear from Vormay at a price lower than a Forge World would demand.
The Commissar had told Grong that obeying Vormay was the same as serving the Emperor, and promised him he would never go hungry. Thus, Grong had happily followed her, becoming her most formidable, and literal, protector.
As a "Bone'ead" (at least by Ogryn standards), Grong could execute more complex commands than his peers. However, his methods of execution were frequently... problematic.
Vormay recalled a previous trade negotiation where Grong had misinterpreted a tense standoff and proceeded to cave in the skulls of every merchant and guard on the opposing side. Vormay had been forced to "salvage" the entire inventory, including the corpses, to cover the diplomatic fallout. To avoid the reputation of a cold-blooded killer in every deal, she had relegated Grong to the bridge.
His task was simple: no fighting on the bridge.
Navigating the fringes of Segmentum Tempestus required certain... heterodox methods. Various xenos species with "unique talents" were brought aboard under the guise of pets or "specialists" to solve navigational hurdles. These creatures were often volatile and prone to violence, even during active transit.
Ordinary humans couldn't hope to restrain a rampaged xenos in the cramped, delicate environment of a bridge where firearms were a hazard. Grong's raw, terrifying strength was the perfect solution. After he had accidentally snapped several structural supports during "restraint" maneuvers, Vormay had given him a sturdier tool, the power maul.
A single swing was usually enough to render any problem "harmless." Consequently, most of the xenos specimens aboard the vessel lived in a state of perpetual, shivering dread of the Ogryn named Grong.