Axion had long anticipated the Tyranid counter-strike.
From the moment the fleet arrived and began smelting the fragments of the Leviathan tendril, the dock situated beneath the industrial ship had been a hive of industry. Countless materials were being fused into a single entity: a six-kilometer-long hyper-bomb.
Though its intended target had been a Hive Ship of unknown magnitude, the core of a Leviathan itself, the incoming, intertwined macro-tendrils did not exceed Axion's computational limits. Having previously modified Imperial Cyclonic Torpedoes, Axion had gained a foundational understanding of such devastating ordnance.
The weapon taking shape beneath the Machine Weaver was a vastly upscaled iteration of that technology. It utilized the plasma-lock architecture of the Dark Age of Technology, energized by the antimatter reserves of the Pectaro. Compared to an atmospheric-incinerator Cyclonic Torpedo of equal volume, this device possessed six times the destructive yield.
In its current state, the mega-torpedo was thirty times the size of its Imperial counterparts. Its energy output exceeded standard Imperial ordnance by a factor of over one hundred. Axion calculated that the resulting detonation would shatter at least half a star system.
The effective kill-zone spanned ten light-seconds.
While he lacked empirical data on its final performance, it did not hinder his cautious projections of the ensuing devastation. Watching the three macro-tendrils close the distance, the locking clamps beneath the industrial ship hissed open. The fleet withdrew several hundred kilometers from the bomb, now concealed amidst a cluster of drifting biomass, and activated their Warp engines.
The veil of the Immaterium tore open, and the fleet plunged through.
In the Immaterium, the Shadow in the Warp roared, lashing out in a psychic tempest. Staggering tides of raw malevolence hammered against the Geller Fields of every vessel. Witnessing such an unprecedented Warp-tide, Axion could do nothing but push the fleet's engines to their limits, fleeing through the madness.
As the chronometer ticked away, the terrifying shadow pursuing them suddenly erupted in a shriek of transcendent fury. It was the sound of a Great Beast clawing at the edge of a precipice, struggling to lunge forward before finally plummeting back into the abyss. The violently churning Warp-currents caught the fleet, hurling them across the psychic expanse.
Axion meticulously held the formation together, fighting to keep the ships from being scattered by the Warp-wake. With a final, violent rupture, the fleet tore back into the Materium.
Boom!
Before Axion could even cross-reference star charts to verify their coordinates, a series of explosions blossomed against the void-shields of a Swarm Striker. The cruiser, already strained by the Warp-tide, took the direct impact. Great spheres of fire billowed into the vacuum.
A swarm of vessels, adorned in the crimson livery of the Aeldari, was unleashing a frantic barrage upon the Iron Man fleet.
As sensor arrays stabilized, Axion detected a small Imperial flotilla in the nearby void, currently under heavy assault by these xenos. The Imperial flagship was an ancient Mars-class Battlecruiser, surrounded by a huddle of merchant vessels.
The Aeldari fleet was attempting to plunder the merchantmen, utilizing a Void Stalker-class Battleship to suppress the ancient battlecruiser. It was a Shadow-class Cruiser from this pirate fleet that had just opened fire on the Pectaro's escort.
Axion met this sudden aggression with remorseless retaliation.
Swathes of Heavy Combat Drones surged from the hangar bays. The damaged cruiser toggled its Geller projectors to reinforced energy shielding to prevent further structural degradation. Dense arrays of neutron beams lashed out, returning fire upon the emboldened xenos.
Swarms of Nightwing fighters spiraled out from the Aeldari fleet, attempting to dogfight the incoming drones. However, the Iron Man drones were nearly three times the size of those graceful interceptors. While the Aeldari Bright Lances occasionally scored hits on the bulkier machines, the damage was negligible.
In contrast, the six plasma turrets mounted on each drone proved catastrophic to the hyper-velocity xenos craft. Though the Aeldari fighters were swifter, the sheer density of the plasma fire easily compensated for the disparity. The void was lit by the silent, incandescent evaporation of Aeldari pilots.
Beholding these strange, monolithic ships that had materialized in the middle of his raid, Salachak, commander of the Void Dragons corsairs, watched his fighters fall and his escort craft disintegrate before they could even close the distance. He did not hesitate; he abandoned his prey.
Though he did not recognize these blocky, metallic vessels, their sheer scale and firepower were not something his raiding party could withstand. He had hoped to hold them off just long enough to finish the plunder, as several boarding craft were already attached to the merchant ships, but the situation allowed for no more indecision. His Shadow-class cruiser's holofields were on the verge of total collapse.
Salachak struck his wraithbone console in frustration and barked the order:
"All ships, break contact! Withdraw!"
There was no other choice. The swarm of drones released by this unknown fleet already tripled the total number of hulls in his own flotilla. If his ships were pinned down by those lethal interceptors and targeted for a concentrated volley, they were dead. As an Aeldari corsair, he had no desire to die in the cold dark. No one would recover his Spirit Stone, and he had no intention of letting his soul become a plaything for She Who Thirsts.
The Void Stalker-class battleship began its acceleration immediately. The smaller Aeldari vessels followed in its wake, fleeing into the darkness.
Axion saw no logic in a protracted pursuit. He simply fired a casual, parting shot from a Nova Cannon at the retreating xenos. The beam of light obliterated nearly a third of the corsairs' smaller escort ships. Witnessing the terrifying power of the discharge, the surviving Aeldari redoubled their flight speed.
The Imperial battlecruiser, seeing the mysterious fleet dismantle the xenos raiders with such effortless brutality, hailed them immediately.
On the vox-screen, the Imperial commander froze for a moment at the sight of Axion's cold, metallic visage. However, she quickly smoothed her expression into a smile.
"My thanks for your timely assistance. I am Vormay Roskora, current Matriarch of the Roskora Dynasty."
Axion scanned the figure on the display. He had seen many female captains in the Imperial Navy, but this woman's attire was... eccentric. It was clearly not the uniform of the Astra Militarum or the Navy.
"Vormay Roskora? State your designation and status."
Axion's flat query seemed to catch her off guard.
"You have truly never heard of the Roskora Rogue Trader Dynasty?"
Axion shook his head slowly.