Third basement level of the shelter.
Gamma-9 stared intently at the expanding clouds of yellowish dust on the screen. As the Helios Group's armored column passed through the massive Underhive crossroads, they did not continue southward to strike at the shelter's main entrance.
"They've turned."
The entire convoy traced a massive arc, charging straight toward the southwest. In that direction, only one area was worth conquering with an army of this scale: the Acid Swamp.
Andy's second base—the heavy industrial military fortress.
Perhaps in the eyes of the Helios high command, the shelter was at best a derelict camp housing a few hundred refugees. Even if they had a few guns, it held no strategic value. In contrast, the Acid Swamp to the southwest was the true source of threat. The commando squad that had been wiped out in that area earlier must have transmitted the coordinates back before they died.
"Phew..."
Gamma-9 let out a long breath. The suffocating feeling of being crushed by tanks dissipated slightly. The shelter was safe for now. But immediately after, a more severe sense of crisis struck. If the base was lost, they were all finished. The base housed the newly assembled precision machining centers, mountains of raw materials, and most importantly—the family business Magos Andy had entrusted to his care.
Gamma-9 quickly manipulated the commando console, switching the frequency to a private line. "Ball! Ball! Do you copy?!"
The connection went through. The background noise on the other end was chaotic—the sound of massive liquid surging accompanied by the metallic clang of heavy mechanical gates opening and closing. Clearly, non-combat personnel were being evacuated in an orderly fashion.
"I hear you, stop shouting." Ball's voice sounded tense, but not panicked. "You saw it too?"
"No shit," Gamma-9 yelled into the microphone. "They're heading for you! At least two companies of armored units! And Valkyries in the air!"
"I know." A dull hiss of hydraulic pressure release came from Ball's end. "The outer sentry turrets triggered the alarm ages ago. I've already initiated emergency evacuation procedures."
"Then what are you waiting for? Run!" Gamma-9 stomped his feet in frustration.
"Run? Where to?" Ball snorted coldly. "The underwater base extension isn't finished; it can't fit all the equipment. Besides, Boss Andy handed all these good things to me. You think I'm going to hand them over to Helios before I've even gotten them warm?"
"Gamma-9, you have the big picture over there. Quickly, tell me—exactly how much 'family assets' do we have right now?"
Gamma-9 froze for a moment. He realized that as the nominal commander-in-stay, he had been somewhat negligent regarding the specific production data of the military base. For the past few days, he had been focused on directing the Black Spirit spiders all over the Mid-hive. While he knew Andy had been working on military industry there, he hadn't actually counted the specific number of units rolled off the line.
He immediately pulled up the real-time inventory log of the base on the console. Rows of green data flashed across the screen. Gamma-9's mechanical eye brightened.
"Iron Ostrich... All-Terrain Self-Propelled Artillery." Gamma-9 read the somewhat ridiculous name, but the numbers that followed prevented him from laughing. "Twenty units in stock? That's plenty!"
Ball added over the comms: "That's right. Three units just rolled off the line this morning. The fire control systems were just calibrated—they haven't even been moved to storage yet, so we'll pull them straight into the fight."
"And the drones?" Gamma-9 continued scrolling down. "'Raptor' class combat drones... fifteen units in stock."
This number was a bit lower than expected. "Only fifteen?" Gamma-9 asked, dissatisfied.
"I wanted to build more!" Ball complained. "But for a Raptor, the high-precision fire control chips, anti-gravity engines, and attitude balancers are extremely slow to hand-assemble. For the rest of the production capacity, we have to rely on Sisyphron hauling parts back from the Mid-hive."
"The 'Heart of Gears' has been providing stable supplies lately, but their capacity is limited. Fifteen units is the absolute limit. However, the good news is: we have plenty of ammo!" Ball's voice carried a hint of bloodlust. "The twin-linked bolt autocannons Boss Andy equipped us with? We have two warehouses full of bullets. And the mounted micro-saboted armor-piercing rounds? I had the workers hand-crank over a hundred rounds overnight!"
Hearing this, Gamma-9's expression softened slightly. Twenty heavy guns, fifteen attack drones, and a solid defense line built upon the Acid Swamp meant they had a fighting chance. Magos Andy was truly far-sighted, having anticipated this day and accumulated such a thick "family fortune" in advance! The Magos was truly prepared for a rainy day!
"Listen, Ball." Gamma-9 took a deep breath, his tone becoming serious. "Since we're fighting, hide the big toys well. Execute the 'Sinking Protocol' now. I'm sending you the encryption keys."
"Sinking Protocol?" Ball paused. "You mean that one?"
"Yes, that one." Gamma-9 pulled a metal plate engraved with binary code from his vest. It was the highest-authority key Andy had given him before leaving. Although Andy wasn't there, as the authorized adjutant, Gamma-9 could remotely activate the base's final insurance. "Listen carefully, input the following code: 01001... 110..."
As Gamma-9 recited the complex key, a massive roar echoed from the other side of the comms. Inside the military base's core climate-controlled workshop, the ground beneath the giant precision machining center and the Black Box began to vibrate. Immediately after, the entire floor began to sink slowly.
The fully enclosed sinking platform would take these two core industrial machines—the most irreplaceable assets of the shelter—straight down fifty meters into a compartment of the underwater base. Even if the surface was leveled and Helios bombed the place to high heaven, as long as they didn't peel back the crust of the earth, these machines would be safe.
Magos Andy's explanation had been: "Where there is life, there is hope."
"Sinking confirmed," Ball's voice returned. "The top cover has closed; quick-dry cement is being poured to seal it off."
"Good." Gamma-9 hung up the communication.
The command center was deathly silent. A few apprentices looked at him, waiting for the next instruction. The Helios army was still advancing, less than half an hour away from the military base.
Gamma-9 stood up. He looked at the red arrow moving across the screen. Logic told him his task was done. He had delivered the intelligence, activated the Sinking Protocol, and hidden the core assets. As stay-behind personnel, what he should do now was lock the shelter doors tight, hide in the third basement, and pray to the Omnissiah that their allies could hold out.
After all, he was just a junior priest in charge of logistics. Fighting wasn't his forte, and... he was truly afraid of dying. Even with the finest weapons, he felt as fragile as paper against that steel tide.
But... if the base was lost and Ball and the others died, when Andy returned, all he would see would be ruins. How could he, the commander of the rear, face the Magos then?
"...Dammit," Gamma-9 cursed under his breath. He turned to the weapon rack on the wall, grabbed an autogun modified by Andy, and checked the magazine.
"You lot, get the men from Engineering Dept I!" Gamma-9 pointed to the apprentices who usually worked the fastest. "Bring your gear!"
"Where are we going, Master?" an apprentice asked tremulously.
"For a drive!" Gamma-9 charged out of the command center without looking back.
A few minutes later, in the shelter's garage. Gamma-9 was the first to jump onto a 'Underhive Joyrider,' followed by two jeeps and several motorcycles filled with armed engineering team members. When he inserted the key into the ignition, his hand shook violently. Despite all his mental preparation, the fear of death still haunted his heart. They were facing thousands of regular troops; the probability of him returning was slim.
"Praise the Magos, praise the Omnissiah." Gamma-9 used his other hand to press down on his shaking wrist and turned the key hard.
VROOOOM—!!!
The engine roared, and the throttle was floored. "Move out."