Chapter 100: Returning to the Colony – II

“Good to hear from you, Bastion One.”

Hans replied and further scanned the Guardian APC’s frame.

The four pairs of wheels were larger than those of his armored SUV.

From the hum of that engine came a subtle whistling, indicating the presence of a turbocharger.

The system didn’t specify that?

Hans was confused but then understood that not everything has to be documented. Doing so would drown the panel with noise information—an irritating experience he wouldn’t want to see again.

“Commander,” Bastion One echoed in the comms. “Seeing your enthusiasm about our performance, why not let the infantry hitch a ride?”

“You’re right,” Hans’s eyes glowed in excitement. “Kenji, Viktor, Callum, do you three copy?”

“Yes, Commander.”

They all responded at once.

“Hitch a ride inside Bastion One,” Hans ordered. “See if the experience is great. And Callum, get my backpack from the apartment. The reports are inside.”

“Understood, Commander. On my way.”

Footsteps echoed on the lot.

Kenji arrived first, cautious but curious of the Guardian APC. Viktor followed with his bulky launcher case, already regretting the weight.

Callum came last, moving the way he always did—fast enough that the distance from the road, to the Commander’s Room, then to the parking lot looked short.

“Commander.”

He handed the backpack over then stepped aside.

Bastion One’s side hatch clicked. The rear ramp line split open with a hydraulic hiss and lowered into a firm platform.

Cold air spilled out.

Not as stale as the ruins, but the sterile scent of sealed metal and recycled air.

The three looked at each other and wondered who should take the first step.

Hans was baffled by their behavior.

“Kenji, go in first.”

Kenji paused, then stepped in.

Inside wasn’t comfort but capacity.

Bench seats ran along the walls. Harness straps hung ready for use.

Above them were gear hooks and brackets. The floor had ridges meant to keep boots from sliding when the vehicle moved too hard, or the floor being wet.

Viktor angled his launcher in first, wedging it into the space with practiced care.

“Packing like a supply run,” he muttered.

Kenji gave a short laugh. “This is better than walking.”

Viktor agreed to that. At least the weight of the bulky launcher would no longer hinder him while inside.

Callum didn’t comment. He sat, his shoulders relaxed. Still, his eyes scanned the cramped space, then through the small, armored slit.

“Hatch is closing,” Bastion One alerted. “Keep your feet in.”

The hatch sealed shut behind them.

A faint change in pressure pressed against Hans’s ears even from the outside.

Then a soft hum deepened. The filtration, circulation, and overpressure systems started building up.

Bastion One’s voice returned through the comms, calm and proud.

“Cabin sealed. Overpressure stable. Viral exposure risk has been minimized. Ready to move when the Commander commands.”

Hans’s let out a subtle smile.

Protected mobility.

This was what he lacked during the early weeks. Firepower? His Snipers and Guardian GIs had that. Bodies? His Conscripts could easily amass into a wave.

What he wanted was the ability move these things through or into danger without bleeding for every street his army would cross.

The Light APC was only one vehicle. Coupled with the Guardian APC, he would soon realize a true mechanized infantry for his army.

“How does it feel in there?” Hans asked.

Kenji answered first. “Tight, Commander. But safe.”

Viktor added. “Commander, this thing can carry twenty, right? I pity every infantry that sits next to Missile Infantries like me.”

Callum’s flat voice came last.

“Functional, Commander.”

Hans nodded.

“Good. Stay inside. Bastion One, start up. We’ll roll back to the colony together with Big Rhino.”

The APC’s engine rose into a steady growl. The eight wheels shifted slightly as the vehicle settled into motion.

Hans glanced at the open road beyond the complex, then at the mountain line in the distance.

He had a feeling that he might have to cross those sooner than he imagined.

Behind him, the Guardian APC drove off the lot and into the road.

The armored SUV drifted past him, landing the right front door in front of him.

“Commander, get in!” The scout shouted, hinting his slight annoyance of being unable to sit inside the Guardian APC.

This scout,

Hans’s mouth twitched. He didn’t even have a reason to do that.

Hans slid into the SUV, put his backpack on the floor, then shut the door.

The Scout didn’t hide his pained expression. He kept glancing at the Guardian APC as if a luxurious seat has been stolen from him.

Hans ignored it. He lifted his comms instead.

“All remaining units,” he said. “Keep watch on the complex and the southern road. I don’t want the first sound of a new threat to be inside the colony’s gates.”

Every stationed infantry unit nodded. Hans then randomly selected a random Army Soldier as the squad leader.

His eyes flicked to the Radar for a second—empty of any signals that might raise a cautious alarm.

That was exactly what bothered him.

The Vanguard’s cannon was loud earlier. The plain went quiet too quickly.

If anything heard it, it wouldn’t announce itself with courtesy.

Hans leaned back and exhaled.

I shouldn’t have the need to train more for now.

One tank was already a beacon. Two would be a broadcast.

Aside from that, the apartment complex wasn’t a garage. He also has no intention to turn it into a scrapyard of steel where the armor couldn’t even maneuver should trouble came knocking on the southern road.

More than that, Hans didn’t want his army to feel like it was built out of thin air overnight.

A unit had to earn its place in the story. They should accumulate slowly, but with purpose and reasoning.

The SUV rolled forward. Bastion One followed behind, heavy and steady. Farther back, Big Rhino kept its distance like a guardian escorting the herd.

The road back felt shorter, possibly due to the absence of any obstacles on the road.

Soon, the southern entrance came into view.

Walls, watchtowers, and the silhouettes of guards above.

And near the gate, two familiar figures waited.

Kimmy and Yunera.

Hans’s gaze settled on them as the convoy slowed.

“What’s this?” he chuckled. “A welcoming party?”

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