Morning light hadn’t fully broken over the base when the first vehicles rolled back in.
Hans was already at the yard by the time the rear doors opened.
Duffel bags spilled out first, heavier than they looked, straining at the seams the same way Pandora’s had.
Behind them came sealed cases, a few cracked open just enough to show watches packed in like ammunition, and jewelry boxes still bearing store labels no one had bothered to remove.
Then the silver bullions and several gold bars—nine bullions and five gold bars from the base sweep alone.
And a lot more gathered from the nearest banks that the platoons could open in Westgate.
They looked smaller, rougher, industrial silver or gold rather than anything ornamental, but bars all the same.
Matilda directed the unloading without needing to be asked twice. Soldiers fell into the same rhythm Hans remembered from Pandora.
Conscripts and Army Soldiers moved crates while a couple of Engineers kept the vehicles in line. Nothing was wasted on ceremony.
"That’s everything from the base sweep, Commander," she said, stepping up beside him. "Westgate’s haul is still coming in behind it."
"Still coming in?"
"At least two more trips. The district had more sitting in it than anyone expected."
Hans said nothing, watching the pile grow.
By the time the last vehicle emptied out, the yard looked less like a supply drop and more like the aftermath of a bank heist times a hundred.
Duffels were stacked three high, bars and bullions set aside in their own neat row, and a scattered field of jewelry boxes that no one had time to sort properly yet.
"Convert it all," Hans said.
The pile shimmered, then dissolved into countless points of green light, one wave after another.
------
[ Industrial Storage Yards conversion bonus applied: +40% ]
[ Gold: 4,465 (+58,600) => 63,065 ]
------
Hans’s breath hitched as he stared at the number for a long moment.
Sixty-two thousand, six hundred and twenty-five.
The haul from Pandora was a lot more, but that was an ultra-wealthy district whose reserves weren’t even fully touched yet.
And this was just from a single, sudden trip to Westgate’s area and not a full sweep.
The PCV’s fifteen thousand suddenly looked less like a distant goal and more like pocket change.
Hans didn’t dwell on the number for long.
"System. Train two Pioneer Construction Vehicles."
------
[ Gold: 63,065 (-30,000) => 33,065 ]
[ Pioneer Construction Vehicle x2 queued. ETA: 2 hours 30 minutes. ]
------
Somewhere behind the bay doors, the War Factory answered.
A low whirr built beneath the floodlights, faint at first, then steady enough that Hans felt it.
The gantry cranes shifted along their rails, assembly clamps locked into position one after another down the line. No one walked out to man a station nor to manually engineer the creation.
Hans watched for a moment.
He’d half expected to see technicians in there somewhere, the way old factories always did in the documentaries he used to half-watch back on Earth.
Instead, the whole floor moved as if something orchestrated things on its own.
The System had automated it from the first rivet to the last weld, exactly as how the panel had implied and never quite said outright.
That’s quite fitting, he thought.
Nothing about this System had ever needed a middleman except for him.
The first one was for a test-drive on the main route toward the FOB. And the second was for the FOB’s establishment.
Hans would rather have a second PCV ready in the pipeline rather than waiting for another two and a half hours to find out he should have trained another at the same time.
He looked over the yard again—Matilda still directing the last of the unloading, soldiers stacking crates that hadn’t even been sorted yet.
"And a Standard Infantry Squad," Hans added. "Route One’s guards have been stretched thin enough for one night."
------
[ Gold: 33,065 (-9,500) => 23,565 ]
[ Standard Infantry Squad queued. ETA: 1 hour 35 minutes. ]
------
The Barracks answered on its own as well as its structural systems worked on the new infantry squad’s training progress.
And with that—he was left with twenty-three thousand Gold with two more trips from Westgate still on the way.
Hans allowed himself something close to satisfaction.
It wasn’t relief, not yet.
There was still a war of logistics to win before any of this meant Westgate was actually safe. But for the first time since he’d checked his Gold that morning and found himself a third of the way to nothing, the math was finally bending in his direction.
"Get some rest once this is unloaded," he told Matilda. "I’ll want you sharp when the rest comes in."
"Understood, Commander."
Hans found a crate to sit on and waited.
The next two hours passed in the particular, unglamorous way logistics always did.
The Standard Infantry Squad finished first, fresh Conscripts and Army Soldiers filing out to relieve the soldiers who’d been holding Route One’s line since the night before.
Word came back from Westgate not long after—the second sweep was still working through the district’s outer blocks, one more platoon rotating in to cover ground the first pass hadn’t reached.
Hans spent most of it going through the folders that had piled up since the sweep began, signing what needed signing, setting aside what didn’t.
He was on the third folder when the panel flickered back to life.
------
[ Pioneer Construction Vehicle x2 — Training Complete. ]
------
Hans set the folder down.
Outside, near the War Factory’s newly-formed bay doors, two vehicles sat idling—smaller than he’d expected, boxy and utilitarian, nothing like the aggressive angles of a Vanguard MBT.
A crane arm folded along one side, dormant for now. No visible weapon anywhere on the frame.
A thin antenna array lay collapsed against the roofline, waiting for a reason to unfold. Four stabilizer legs sat retracted beneath the chassis, tucked in tight.
It was exactly as advertised—as little as he actually knew about them.
He stood, forgetting the folders.
"Delta One," he said into his communicator, already walking. "Gather the team at Route One. It’s time to see what fifteen thousand Gold actually bought me."
Hans stepped closer, and the system panel unfolded fully.
------
Vehicle Name: Trailblazer One
Unit: Pioneer Construction Vehicle (PCV)
Star Promotion: N/A
[ Primary Weapon ]
None.
[ Secondary Weapons ]
Smoke Dispenser Array — for retreat cover only.
[ Special Features ]
Structural Scanner — Flags unstable ground and residual geological activity prior to deployment.
Deployable Anchor System — Projects a permanent 1,000-meter construction radius upon deployment. Cannot fabricate Primary Structures. Deployment is irreversible except by selling the unit (50% Gold refund; radius generated by the PCV collapses on sale but other structures retain their expanded construction radius).
[ Vehicle Systems ]
Reinforced hydraulic stabilizer legs
Retractable communications antenna
Crew: 2 (Engineer operator, Driver)
------
He filed it away and looked up as the nearer hatch popped open before Hans even finished crossing the yard.
Two figures climbed down, one after the other.
An Engineer went out first, tool harness still clipped to her belt, followed by a driver who hit the ground already grinning like he’d been waiting his whole life for this exact moment.
"Commander!"
The driver snapped a salute sharp enough to make Matilda glance over.
"PCV crew, reporting in! Name’s Kessler, this here’s Auer. Engineer."
Auer gave a quick nod, already running a hand along the vehicle’s flank like she was greeting an old friend rather than inspecting new equipment.
"Callsign?" Hans asked.
"Trailblazer One, Commander!" Kessler said it like the title itself was a reward. "Whole line’s Trailblazer, soon as more of us roll out."
Hans allowed himself the ghost of a smile. "And you’re both this excited about hauling a construction radius around the countryside?"
"Commander, with respect," Kessler said, "everybody else gets to blow things up or hold a line. We get to make new ground exist where you want it to. You tell us where you want land, we’ll go plant a flag on it."
Auer finally looked up from the vehicle. "He means that literally, Commander. Give him a working scanner and an empty lot and he’ll talk about it for hours."
"She’s not wrong."
Hans studied the two of them a moment longer, some of the tension from the last two days easing out of his shoulders without his permission.
"Good," he said. "Because that’s exactly the job I want you to do. Route One first—short trip, low risk, just to see how you handle. After that, Westgate."
Kessler’s grin didn’t so much as flicker. "Trailblazer One copies. Point us at the empty ground, Commander. We’ll do the rest."
"Follow me."
Hans turned around before grabbing his communicator.
"I need a ride."
"Where to, Commander?"
"Route One."
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