FOB Sigma was a brutalist zit on the face of the canyon—a low, grey bunker of welded alloy plates, built around the flickering heart of the unstable Nexus. It had a single, heavy door, slitted firing ports, and a flat roof where a repaired sentry turret (salvaged from the Bastion's spares) now swiveled with a steady, predatory hum. It was not a fortress; it was a clenched fist.
Inside, the air crackled with erratic energy. The Nexus, though purified, had been traumatized by the Beacon's overload. Its energy output fluctuated wildly, causing lights to dim and brighten, and forcing the Pioneers to constantly adjust the crude regulator they'd rigged. It was a patient in critical but stable condition.
Isaac stood on the bunker's roof, the wind sharp and cold at this distance from the Bastion's geothermal dead zone. The view was a tactical panorama. To the west, the canyon snaked away into deeper gloom, where the husk of the Spawning Pool lay like a discarded organ. To the east, the open plain stretched back to the distant, comforting bulk of his home fortress. And to the north, a smudge on the horizon marked the brooding, violet-lit mass of Omicron-22.
He had extended his reach. He had also exposed a vulnerable artery—the supply line between the Bastion and FOB Sigma. Ten kilometers of open, Gloom-patrolled plain. The Legionnaires could make the run in twenty minutes, but they were fuel and ammunition hogs, and their absence from either end left a gaping hole in the defenses.
He needed a dedicated logistics chain. A secure, automated lifeline.
Back in the Bastion's Engineering Bay, he initiated a new project. "Design a dedicated logistics vehicle. Based on the Bulkhauler chassis, but optimized for speed and defense over raw hauling capacity. Armor over crusher. Enclosed cargo hold. Designate: 'Courier.'"
While it was designed, he addressed the garrison. FOB Sigma would be held by a mixed force. E-001, the Pioneer, would remain as chief engineer and fortification expert. He assigned it a fireteam of four Militia, all newly equipped with Lascutters. They were designated Garrison Squad Sigma. One of the Legionnaires, V-003 'Vanguard', would remain on station, a mobile strongpoint and the base's ultimate authority.
The Bastion would keep V-002 'Legionnaire' and the second fireteam. The Courier, when built, would run the route between them, escorted by the Ghost scout car for reconnaissance.
It was a delicate balance, splitting his most powerful assets. But holding territory required presence.
Three days later, the Courier—a sleeker, more heavily armored version of the Bulkhauler, with a sealed rear compartment—made its first run. It carried fresh ammunition, energy cells for the Lascutters, spare parts for the Pioneer, and a precious, newly fabricated Purification Beacon Mk. II, designed with more robust stabilizers to handle Sigma-5's instability.
The Ghost flitted ahead, its sensors scanning for ambushes. The journey was uneventful. The Gloom, perhaps reeling from the loss of the Spawning Pool, or conserving strength around Omicron-22, did not challenge the convoy.
At FOB Sigma, the new Beacon was installed. E-001 worked for hours, carefully integrating it with the Nexus's fluctuating energy patterns. Finally, with a solid thrum, the Beacon activated. The Nexus's light steadied, shifting from a sickly pulse to a calm, rhythmic glow. The bunker's lights stabilized.
Nexus Sigma-5 – Stabilized. Purification: 78% and rising.
Leyline Trifecta Progress: 2/3 (Active Link Established).
The link was active. Power began to flow from Sigma-5 back to the Bastion, a new thread in his growing energy web. The System-wide Essence generation ticked up another +0.75/hour. It wasn't the Trifecta, but it was a major step.
With the base secure and the link established, Isaac could now think about the final, terrible step: Omicron-22.
The data from the Ghost's reconnaissance was clear. A frontal assault with two Legionnaires was suicide. The Colossi were too many, the terrain too confined near the carrier wreck. He needed to degrade them from a distance, pull them apart, before he committed his armor.
He needed the Catapult. The self-propelled artillery piece.
But the Vehicle Bay Level 2 upgrade required the completed Trifecta. He was stuck. To get the third Nexus (Omicron-22), he needed the Catapult. To build the Catapult, he needed the third Nexus.
Another recursion. Another puzzle.
The Sergeant, its consciousness now partially resident in the Bastion's network and partially in the Legionnaire at FOB Sigma, proposed a solution. "The Trifecta requirement is for a stable, synergistic link between three Nexuses. Sigma-5 is now stable. Omicron-22 is grossly unstable due to corruption. However, if we can establish a temporary, overpowered link—using Sigma-5 and Gamma-7 to forcibly 'clamp' a connection to Omicron-22 during a targeted purification surge—we may trick the System protocols long enough to authorize the Bay upgrade. The link would collapse shortly after, but the upgrade would be permanent."
It was a hack. A dangerous, system-straining exploit. It risked overloading and damaging his two existing Nexuses. But it was a way to break the deadlock.
"Calculate the power requirements and the risk of cascading failure," Isaac ordered.
The calculations took hours. The answer was grim. They would need to divert almost all Bastion and FOB Sigma power to the link for a six-minute window. Defenses would be at minimal levels. The Nexus cores would be stressed to their limits. Probability of temporary failure in one or both Nexuses: 40%. Probability of permanent damage: 15%.
But probability of unlocking the Catapult: 100%, if they survived the window.
It was the kind of all-or-nothing gamble that had defined his entire existence here. He was a riverboat gambler with a fortress for chips.
"We do it," he said, no hesitation in his voice. "Prepare the power reroute. We'll call it Operation Backdoor. We have seventy-two hours. I want both Legionnaires back at the Bastion for the attempt. We'll go dark at FOB Sigma, hunker down. The Courier makes one final supply run, then it stays there. We roll the dice here, where our defenses are strongest."
The Bastion shifted into a state of tense preparation. Power conduits were rerouted. The Vehicle Bay was prepped for immediate upgrade sequencing. The two Legionnaires rumbled back across the plain, leaving FOB Sigma in a state of silent, darkened readiness.
At the appointed hour, Isaac stood in the Core Chamber, his hands on the control interfaces for both Nexuses. The Sergeant was integrated into the Bastion's power grid, ready to manage the flow.
"On my mark," Isaac said, his voice the only sound in the tense silence. "Divert all non-essential power. Initiate forced synergy link to Omicron-22… now."
He threw the switches.
The Bastion's lights dimmed to a ghostly amber. The Manufactorum ground to a halt. The sentry turrets' hum dropped to a whisper. All that power, every trickle of Essence, was funneled into the Core, amplified, and shot out along the leyline connections.
In the chamber, a violent, three-pointed star of energy—two points bright blue (Gamma-7, Sigma-5), one a struggling, resisting violet (Omicron-22)—burned in the air. The star shuddered, the violet point fighting the connection. The blue points flared, burning brilliant white as they forced the link.
Warnings screamed. Nexus Gamma-7: Overload. Nexus Sigma-5: Critical Stress.
The holographic star flickered, threatening to tear apart.
"Hold it!" Isaac gritted his teeth, pushing more system authority into the clamp.
For six of the longest minutes of his life, the Bastion hung on the edge of a blackout. Then, a final, triumphant chime cut through the alarms.
Forced Leyline Trifecta Achieved (Temporary). Prerequisite MET.
Vehicle Bay Level 2 Upgrade: AUTHORIZED. Initiating…
Isaac slammed the systems back to normal. Power flooded back to the defenses. The lights brightened. The Nexuses, bruised and smoking metaphorically in the System logs, settled back into their normal rhythms, their stability percentages lowered but not broken.
In the Vehicle Bay, new machinery activated. The Bay expanded, its ceilings rising. New fabricators unfolded. And in the schematic list, the SPG-1 'Catapult' glowed, ready for production.
He had done it. He had hacked the universe's rules. He had his backdoor.
Now, he just had to build the cannon that would blow the front door off its hinges.