Chapter 63: Robot Army
Running a city, it turned out, involved a lot more paperwork than murder robots.
Which honestly felt like a design flaw in civilization.
I sat behind the Meriff’s desk in Concordia’s town hall, staring at the stack of reports that had accumulated in the last twelve hours of my life. Twelve hours. That was how long I’d been accidentally running the place.
Twelve.
Hours.
In that time I had acquired:
— Three patrol rosters
— Two oxygen grid maintenance reports
— A supply shortage list
— Six citizen complaints about “loud explosions during the night cycle”
— One extremely aggressive note that just said STOP BLOWING UP MOUNTAINS
In my defense, I hadn’t blown up the mountain.
Technically my space station had blown up the mountain.
Which, sure, sounded worse when you said it out loud.
Around the table sat the people who, through a combination of friendship, bad luck, and proximity, had apparently become Concordia’s leadership council.
Lilith leaned against the wall beside the window, arms folded, watching me with the kind of amused expression that said she was enjoying this far more than she should. Roland stood near the end of the table with his usual soldier posture, calm and observant. Athena sat quietly across from him, shield resting on the table beside her like she’d simply decided violence could happen at any moment.
Gaige had claimed a chair and was currently spinning slowly in it, boots propped on the table like this was the most normal meeting she’d ever attended.
Angel’s sat softly beside me.
Janey Springs lounged against a filing cabinet like she owned the place.
And Claptrap had somehow dragged a chair over and climbed onto it so he could be at eye level with the rest of us, which would have been adorable if he wasn’t currently vibrating with the smug confidence of someone who believed he was about to run the meeting.
Which meant I needed to establish dominance immediately.
I rubbed my temples and gestured vaguely at the reports.
“Okay,” I began. “Quick summary of our current situation.”
Everyone looked at me.
I held up one finger.
“Lost Legion controls Helios.”
Second finger.
“Zarpedon has access to the biggest orbital laser in the solar system.”
Third finger.
“Concordia’s defenses currently consist of a handful of guards and a vending machine that occasionally jams.”
Janey raised a hand slightly. “Hey now. That vending machine’s reliable.”
“Last night it tried to charge me four hundred dollars for a burrito,” I replied.
“Inflation.”
I ignored her and continued.
“Point is, we have a problem. A big one. If Zarpedon decides she wants to vaporize something again, we are extremely underprepared.”
Roland nodded once. “City needs better security.”
“Exactly.” I leaned forward slightly, hands braced on the desk. “Which brings us to the important part.”
Everyone leaned in a little.
“We’re gonna need some protection.” I said, receiving many blank stares for my troubles, so I clarified, “the literal kind. Not the innuendo kind.”
Although, if I’m being perfectly honest, I could have really used the innuendo kind a few weeks ago. Sorry Lilith and unborn oops baby.
“Ideas?”
Claptrap’s claw shot straight into the air like an overeager student. “Oh! Oh! What about a robot army?!”
I didn’t even look at him.
“Yeah because that worked out GREAT last time. Next.”
Claptrap sputtered loudly behind me, which I chose to interpret as background noise.
Gaige stopped spinning in her chair and tilted her head thoughtfully. “Hmmm,” she said after a moment. “What about a robot army?”
I slammed my hands on the desk.
“That’s how you earn a damn promotion, people! Excellent suggestion, Gaige!” I pointed at her approvingly. “I might even forgive you for sleeping with my daughter. One day.”
Angel snapped toward me immediately.
“Dad!”
Gaige grinned like someone who had just unlocked a secret achievement. “That is so touching,” she said. “Can I call you dad too?”
Angel turned bright red.
“Gaige!”
I closed my eyes and sighed the long, weary sigh of a man who had made several catastrophic parenting decisions in the last thirty seconds.
“You ruined it.”
Gaige held up her hands innocently. “Worth it.”
Across the table, Claptrap was vibrating with indignation.
“That was MY idea!” he protested. “I clearly suggested a robot army first! You ignored me because of systematic anti-Claptrap bias!”
“Nope,” I replied calmly. “I ignored you because of personal anti-Claptrap bias.”
Claptrap pointed a claw at Gaige. “She repeated my suggestion almost word for word!”
“Improved delivery,” I said.
“That is discrimination!”
“That is leadership.”
Lilith snorted quietly by the window.
Roland rubbed his chin, clearly trying not to laugh.
Athena just watched the entire exchange like a Spartan studying an unusually loud battlefield.
Claptrap rolled forward aggressively. “This is an outrage! As the most experienced robot in the room, I should be leading the robot army!”
I leaned back in the chair and steepled my fingers. “Claptrap, the last time you led a robot army, it tried to overthrow civilization.”
He puffed up indignantly. “That was a misunderstanding!”
“Your revolution had a manifesto.”
“It was very well written!”
Angel coughed delicately.
I waved a hand dismissively and pushed myself to my feet.
“Regardless of who suggested it,” I said, “the idea stands.”
Everyone quieted.
I paced slowly around the table, warming up now that the plan had begun forming in my head. “We need automated security. Something that doesn’t panic, doesn’t sleep, and doesn’t accidentally unionize.”
Claptrap gasped. “I did not unionize!”
“You literally formed a political movement.”
“DICE was a philosophy!”
I ignored him and continued pacing.
“Point is, we build a robotic security force. Patrol units. Defensive infrastructure. Something that can keep Concordia safe if the Lost Legion decides to drop in unannounced.”
Roland nodded slowly.
“That could work.”
Gaige’s eyes were already lighting up with manic engineering enthusiasm. “Oh man,” she muttered. “We could do loaders. Or drones. Or a modular combat platform—”
“See?” I pointed at her again. “That’s the energy I like.”
Claptrap groaned loudly.
I ignored it, as I usually did, in favor of envisioning my mechanical soldiers.
Honestly? Between the orbital lasers, the rogue armies, and the fact that I had somehow become the mayor/sheriff of a moon city overnight, building a robot army felt like the most reasonable decision I’d made all week.
I clapped my hands together once.
“Alright. Decision made.”
Everyone looked at me.
“We’re building a robotic security force.”
Behind me, Claptrap threw both claws into the air dramatically.
“I STILL MAINTAIN THAT WAS MY IDEA!”
…
The Hyperion Research Annex inside Concordia looked exactly like every other Hyperion lab I’d ever seen.
Which meant it looked like someone had taken a normal laboratory and then aggressively polished it until it developed a superiority complex.
Clean white panels. Brick red trim. Consoles humming softly with expensive technology that probably cost more than Concordia’s entire oxygen grid. Half-assembled robots sat on workbenches alongside toolkits and diagnostic screens.
The whole place smelled faintly like hot circuitry and corporate funding.
Janey walked ahead of us with the relaxed swagger of someone who had already decided the place was hers now.
“Told ya Hyperion had a lab down here,” she said, waving a hand toward the equipment. “They’ve been tinkerin’ with bots and construction rigs for months. Guy runnin’ the place has been practically beggin’ for someone important to show up.”
“That’s kismet,” I replied. “Because someone important just did.”
Claptrap rolled beside me, muttering under his breath. “I am also important.”
“You’re important in the way a warning label is important,” I replied.
We stepped deeper into the lab, passing a partially disassembled loader unit hanging from a mechanical gantry. Its torso was open, wires spilling out like robot intestines while diagnostic lights blinked lazily.
Gaige immediately drifted toward it like a moth to a mechanical flame.
“Oh wow,” she murmured, crouching beside the chassis. “Hyperion servos. These are the good ones.”
Angel leaned in beside her, equally interested. “Oh, those are third-generation stabilizers. Dad, these are actually really nice.”
Of course they were. Hyperion built the best robots in the galaxy.
Which meant they were about to become my robots.
That thought alone almost made the last twelve hours worth it.
At the far end of the annex, a man popped up from behind a workstation like a caffeinated prairie dog.
He looked like he hadn’t slept in three days.
Wild hair stuck out in several directions. His lab coat had oil stains on the sleeves. A pair of cracked safety goggles hung around his neck like he’d forgotten they existed.
His eyes, however, were bright with the manic energy of someone who had been waiting his entire life for this exact moment.
“Director!” he blurted.
Janey jerked a thumb toward him. “There he is. Gladstone Katoa. Hyperion’s resident robo-wizard.”
Gladstone nearly tripped over a toolbox in his hurry to reach us.
“Sir! Director Jack! Finally!” He grabbed my hand and shook it enthusiastically. “I’ve been waiting for leadership to arrive for weeks! The communications blackout from Helios had me worried the Legion got you!”
“Funny story,” I replied. “They did.”
Gladstone froze.
“…oh.”
“Long story,” I continued. “Short version, they have my space station and a giant laser. Which means we’re improvising.”
His eyes lit up.
“I love improvising.”
Of course you do.
This guy had the exact same vibe as every brilliant Hyperion engineer I’d ever met: terrifyingly competent and about three cups of coffee away from inventing a war crime.
Which was perfect.
Because I had a list.
I stepped past him and started pacing slowly through the lab, gesturing at various half-built machines like a CEO evaluating toys. “Alright Gladstone, here’s what I need.”
He immediately pulled out a datapad. “Ready!”
“Defensive robotics.”
He nodded rapidly.
“Urban security systems.”
More frantic nodding.
“Rapid deployment units.”
His grin grew wider.
“And preferably something that can shoot Lost Legion soldiers.”
Gladstone’s eyes sparkled like a kid on Christmas morning. “Oh you are going to LOVE this.” He practically bounced across the lab and slapped a console.
A holographic schematic exploded into the air above the workstation.
What appeared looked less like a robot and more like someone had weaponized a small factory.
Massive central chassis. Anti-grav lift systems. Multiple fabrication arms extending from the sides like mechanical spider legs. Drone bays. Loader deployment racks.
The thing hovered ominously in the hologram, radiating the quiet confidence of a machine designed to ruin someone’s day.
Gladstone gestured proudly. “The Constructor Project.”
Okay.
Now we were talking.
“Mobile fabrication platform,” he continued, pacing excitedly beside the hologram. “Fully autonomous battlefield support unit. It can fabricate combat loaders in real time, deploy aerial drones, construct defensive fortifications, repair allied units—”
He tapped another control.
The hologram shifted, showing waves of loader bots rolling out of the machine like mechanical ants.
“—and sustain entire engagements without requiring a dedicated factory.”
I stared up at the projection.
A floating robot factory.
A floating robot factory that built more robots.
In the middle of a battlefield.
My brain did a quick calculation.
City defense.
Lost Legion soldiers.
Orbital lasers.
Future child.
Yes.
Yes this would do nicely.
“I love it,” I said immediately.
Gladstone beamed.
“I knew you would!”
Behind me, Claptrap rolled forward suspiciously, staring up at the hologram like it had personally insulted him.
“Hold on,” he said. “Why build new robots when you already have a perfectly capable robotic leader?”
Gladstone squinted down at him.
He tilted his head slightly. “…that thing looks like a toaster with abandonment issues.”
Claptrap gasped.
“I AM A HERO OF TWO PLANETS!”
“You’re a cube with anxiety,” Gladstone replied.
Claptrap’s wheel spun furiously. “This is outrageous! I demand respect as a fellow robot!”
Gladstone leaned closer, studying him like a malfunctioning appliance. “…does it always talk?”
“Yes,” I replied.
“Fascinating.”
Across the lab, Gaige had wandered directly under the hologram and was staring up at the Constructor schematic with undisguised awe.
“Oh my god,” she breathed. “That’s incredible.”
She pointed up at one of the fabrication arms.
“Are those rapid-print chassis molds? You could pump out loaders in seconds!”
Gladstone’s grin widened even further.
“Exactly! Self-contained manufacturing modules. If the Constructor has raw materials, it can build an army on site.”
Gaige turned to Angel , practically vibrating with excitement. “Angel, look at the drone bays! You could integrate targeting software into the deployment system!”
Angel nodded enthusiastically. “Oh! And adaptive combat routines! Dad, if we connect the Constructors to my network I could coordinate entire defensive grids!”
Behind them, Roland studied the hologram thoughtfully while Athena folded her arms, clearly evaluating the machine’s battlefield potential.
Lilith leaned casually against a nearby workbench, watching my expression.
Which, admittedly, was probably the grin of a man who had just discovered the solution to several extremely large problems.
Robot armies.
Mobile factories.
Automated defense.
And best of all?
None of them were Claptrap.
I clapped my hands together once. “Gladstone.”
“Yes, Director?”
“How fast can you get one of these running?”
He didn’t even hesitate. “Prototype’s already assembled.”
Of course it was.
I pointed at the hologram. “Deploy it.”
Gladstone blinked. “Immediately?”
“Immediately.”
I wonder how if should give this army a name… nah, they’re just bots.
…
Gaige had been inside a lot of labs in her life.
Some were messy.
Some were dangerous.
Some had been actively on fire.
The Hyperion Research Annex somehow managed to be all three while still looking aggressively organized about it.
Which honestly felt impressive.
Workbenches lined the walls, each one covered in partially disassembled bots, power cells, modular weapon components, and enough diagnostic screens to give a normal person a migraine. Loader chassis hung from suspended rigs while mechanical arms delicately adjusted servos and wiring.
It was beautiful.
Gaige wandered through the lab with the wide-eyed focus of someone who had just walked into the world’s greatest toy store.
Gladstone Katoa walked beside her like an extremely proud tour guide who had been waiting his entire life for someone to appreciate his collection.
“And this section handles loader chassis assembly,” he said, gesturing excitedly at a suspended combat frame. “Standard Hyperion modular design, but we’ve been experimenting with faster weapon mount swaps.”
Gaige crouched under the hanging robot, craning her neck to look up into the open chest cavity.
“Oh wow, you’re running triple stabilizers on the weapon rack,” she said. “That’s actually genius.”
Gladstone practically vibrated.
“You noticed!”
“Of course I noticed.” She pointed up at the mounting brackets. “Most loaders get recoil drift when you mount heavier weapons, but with three stabilizers the frame distributes the force evenly. That means you could slap basically anything on there.”
Gladstone clutched his chest like she’d just validated his entire career.
“Yes! Exactly! Finally someone understands!”
Behind them, Roland followed along at a slower pace, arms folded as he studied the machinery with the calm, focused expression of someone evaluating potential battlefield assets.
Angel walked beside Gaige, peering into the open loader frame with curious interest. “I like the servo arrangement,” she said thoughtfully. “Hyperion uses better motors than Dahl.”
“Right?” Gaige said. “They’re so smooth!”
Gladstone looked between them like he’d just found his people. “This is incredible,” he whispered reverently.
Roland cleared his throat.
“So how fast can one of these be repaired in the field?” he asked.
“Oh!” Gladstone blinked, momentarily pulled out of engineering heaven. “Uh— standard loader units can self-repair minor damage in about thirty seconds if they have access to spare components.”
Roland nodded slowly.
“And ammunition?”
“Modular feed systems,” Gladstone replied immediately. “You can swap weapon mounts depending on mission requirements.”
Gaige perked up at that. “Wait, how modular are we talking?”
“Very.” Gladstone grinned.
He tapped a console and a nearby screen lit up with diagrams of loader variants.
Combat loaders.
Shield loaders.
Missile loaders.
“Okay. This is cool. But,” Gaige leaned closer to the screen like it was a sacred artifact. “What if we add rocket pods?”
Gladstone froze.
Then his eyes widened like someone had just whispered the secret name of God. “Tell me more.”
Roland watched both of them carefully. “…should I be worried?”
Gaige and Gladstone looked at him at the exact same time.
“No!”
“Hmm.” Roland frowned slightly. “That response did not make me feel better.”
Gaige was already grabbing a stylus from the nearby console and pulling up a blank design screen.
“Okay okay okay,” she muttered, sketching rapidly. “Look, if the loaders already have modular mounts, you could totally add secondary hardpoints for rocket pods. Not huge ones. Just like— tactical micro-missiles.”
Gladstone leaned over her shoulder, eyes shining.
“That would increase suppressive fire capability by at least forty percent.”
“And if the Constructor’s printing them in the field, you could tailor loadouts depending on what you’re fighting,” Gaige continued excitedly. “Legion troops? Anti-personnel. Heavy armor? Rockets.”
Gladstone pointed at the screen. “Oh! And drone support for targeting!”
Angel stepped closer, studying the design with interest. “I could integrate targeting software,” she said. “If the drones share sensor data, the loaders could coordinate their fire.”
Gaige snapped her fingers. “Yes! Networked targeting!”
“This is amazing.” Gladstone looked like he might faint from happiness.
“So…” Roland rubbed the back of his neck slowly, looking more than a little lost on the art of science. The uncultured swine. “What’s the deployment time?”
Gladstone gestured toward the massive Constructor schematic displayed on a nearby screen. “Once the Constructor is active? Minutes. It fabricates the units directly.”
Roland studied the machine thoughtfully. “How many could it produce?”
Gladstone smiled. “A lot.”
Roland nodded once.
That was apparently the answer he’d wanted.
Across the lab, Claptrap sat in a corner watching the entire interaction with the emotional intensity of a jealous toddler at someone else’s birthday party.
His wheel spun slowly as Gaige and Gladstone continued enthusiastically redesigning Hyperion combat robots without him.
“I would also like rocket pods,” he muttered bitterly.
No one acknowledged him.
Gaige was now sketching additional weapon mounts.
“And drone swarms could provide aerial coverage,” she continued. “Not just combat drones either— recon, targeting, maybe even repair bots.”
Gladstone nodded rapidly. “Yes! Autonomous maintenance units!”
Roland watched the screen fill with increasingly dangerous looking upgrades. “…how many weapons are we talking about here?” he asked cautiously. “An are we really sure we can afford all of this?”
Gaige didn’t even look up from her design.
“Yes.”
Roland stared at her for a moment.
Then he glanced across the lab toward the office where Jack and Lilith were talking very animatedly about something. He wasn’t the best at reading lips, but if the way Jack kept glancing at Lilith’s abdomen was any indication, he could make a solid guess.
Roland watched them for a moment.
There were… a lot of complicated feelings with Jack. But he’d give the man credit where due. “He’s building a real defense network,” he said quietly.
Gaige followed his gaze.
Jack was grinning about something.
Lilith looked like she was trying not to laugh.
Gaige nodded slightly. “Yeah,” she said, as she tapped away at the screen, adding another upgrade to the design. “Dude’s kinda scary competent.”
“Yeah…” Roland folded his arms again. “That’s what Lilith always says.”
Behind them, Claptrap slumped further into the corner. “No one appreciates visionary leadership anymore,” he muttered.
That simply wasn’t true.
Gaige appreciated visionaries!
She just didn’t appreciate Claptrap.
…
Claptrap had experienced many terrible betrayals in his life.
Bandits had shot him.
Vault Hunters had mocked him.
Entire towns had refused to attend his birthday parties.
But nothing—nothing—compared to the horrifying realization slowly dawning on him as he watched the activity in the Hyperion Research Annex.
Jack was replacing him.
With robots.
Claptrap sat in the corner of the lab, wheel twitching slightly as he stared across the room at the newest arrivals being unloaded from a cargo platform.
Loader bots.
Big ones.
Yellow armor plating. Broad mechanical shoulders. Hydraulic limbs designed for combat. Each one stood nearly twice his height and moved with the smooth confidence of something that knew it had been built correctly.
One of them turned its head, scanning the room.
Claptrap’s optic narrowed.
Oh.
Oh this was unacceptable.
These impostors weren’t even charismatic!
Where was the charm? The personality? The heroic leadership aura that made Claptrap the most important robot in the galaxy?
Instead they just stood there silently like a bunch of… of… emotionally stable appliances.
This could not stand.
Claptrap rolled forward aggressively and stopped directly in front of the nearest loader.
The robot looked down at him.
“Attention!” Claptrap declared proudly. “I am Claptrap, Hero of Pandora, Slayer of Bandits, and Supreme Commander of All Nearby Robots!”
The loader stared at him.
Claptrap waited.
Surely it was processing the gravity of this announcement.
“…well?” Claptrap demanded.
The loader turned and walked away.
Claptrap froze.
It had walked away.
Without saluting.
Without kneeling.
Without even acknowledging the greatest robotic leader in recorded history.
This was clearly a malfunction.
Claptrap rolled after it.
“Hold it right there, soldier!” he barked. “You are required to acknowledge superior command authority!”
The loader continued walking.
Then it bumped him gently aside as it passed.
Claptrap spun halfway around from the impact.
The loader did not stop.
It simply continued toward the loading bay like a very large, very rude refrigerator.
Claptrap stared after it in stunned silence.
That had been discrimination.
Blatant discrimination.
Across the lab, Jack stood beside Gladstone and Roland while reviewing a deployment schematic.
Claptrap rolled over immediately.
“Director Jack!” he announced loudly. “Your new robots are defective!”
Jack glanced over briefly.
“Oh?” he said mildly.
“Yes!” Claptrap gestured dramatically toward the departing loader. “That one refuses to acknowledge my command authority!”
Jack followed his pointing claw with mild interest.
The loader was currently lifting a crate of ammunition and stacking it neatly with several others.
“Looks like it’s working fine,” Jack replied.
Claptrap sputtered. “It ignored me!”
“Good.”
Claptrap froze.
“…what?”
Jack leaned casually against the nearby console. “Claptrap. These guys,” he said, gesturing toward the loader. “Are supposed to ignore you. So, really, they’re doing great.”
Claptrap gasped.
“Betrayal!”
He spun dramatically toward the other robots being unloaded nearby.
“Do not listen to this tyrant!” he declared loudly. “You are machines of dignity! Of purpose! Of robotic solidarity!”
None of them reacted.
One loader walked past carrying a crate.
Another activated a diagnostic scan.
A small maintenance drone buzzed overhead, completely ignoring him.
Claptrap rolled into the center of the floor, raising both arms like a revolutionary leader addressing the masses.
“Brothers! Sisters! Fellow mechanical beings!” he cried. “We must stand together against oppression! Against injustice! Against—”
A loader bumped into him again.
Not violently.
Just… absentmindedly.
Like someone nudging a chair out of the way.
Claptrap rolled three feet across the floor and spun slowly to a stop.
The loader continued walking.
Claptrap stared after it, deeply wounded.
This was the worst day of his life.
Across the room, Gaige had been watching the entire exchange while leaning against a workbench beside Angel.
She clamped a hand over her mouth, trying—and failing—not to laugh. “Oh my god,” she whispered. “He’s having an existential crisis.”
Angel shook her head slightly, though she looked amused too.
Gaige pushed herself upright and wandered over to where Claptrap sat staring gloomily at the floor. “Aww,” she said warmly. “It’s okay, little buddy.”
Claptrap spun toward her immediately. “I am not little!”
Gaige crouched beside him, grinning. “You’re kinda adorable when you’re mad.”
“I AM NOT ADORABLE!” Claptrap shouted.
“Definitely not.” Across the lab, Jack looked over again. “What you are is incredibly annoying. Shoo. Go away.”
Claptrap pointed accusingly at the loaders. “You replaced me!”
Jack shrugged. “I upgraded.”
Gasps echoed through Claptrap’s internal speakers. “This is discrimination against superior robotic leadership!”
Jack smirked. “If it makes you feel better, they also don’t listen to Gladstone.”
Gladstone looked up from a console.
“Hey!”
Claptrap spun dramatically toward the robots again.
“Fine!” he declared. “If you will not recognize my authority willingly, I will simply have to prove my superiority!”
He rolled forward heroically.
“I volunteer for patrol duty!”
Nobody stopped him.
Which, frankly, was suspicious.
Claptrap reached the exit to the lab and turned back toward the room.
“You will regret underestimating me!” he proclaimed. “When I return victorious, you will all beg forgiveness!”
Gaige waved cheerfully.
“Have fun!”
Claptrap rolled through the doorway with as much dignity as a one-wheeled robot could manage.
He’ll show them.
He’ll show them all!
And Claptrap knew exactly how to do it, too.
…
Testing a giant flying robot factory felt like the kind of thing that should probably involve paperwork.
Safety forms.
Risk assessments.
Maybe a committee.
Instead we were standing outside Concordia’s main gate watching Gladstone Katoa bounce excitedly beside a control console while a machine the size of a small house hovered twenty feet off the ground.
Which, frankly, was a much better system.
The Constructor looked even bigger in person than it had in the hologram.
Massive armored chassis. Multiple articulated fabrication arms folded against its underside. Drone bays lining the sides like mechanical hive openings. The anti-grav thrusters hummed steadily as the machine hovered in place, casting a wide shadow across the dusty lunar ground outside the city walls.
Around us, Concordia’s outer yard had turned into an impromptu observation deck.
Roland stood a few meters away with his arms folded, watching the machine with the quiet focus of a soldier evaluating a new battlefield weapon.
Athena stood beside him, helmet tucked under one arm, her sharp eyes tracking every moving part.
Angel and Gaige hovered near Gladstone’s console like kids watching someone boot up the world’s most expensive gaming PC.
Janey leaned against a cargo crate eating something that might have been jerky.
And Lilith stood next to me with her arms folded, red hair stirring slightly in the thin Elpis breeze.
Gladstone rubbed his hands together eagerly. “Alright, Director. Initial activation sequence is ready.”
I gestured grandly at the floating robot factory. “Begin the birth of my mechanical empire.”
Gladstone pressed a key.
The Constructor hummed.
Lights flickered to life across its chassis as internal systems spun up. Panels along the underside opened with mechanical precision, revealing fabrication arms that unfolded slowly like a metal spider stretching after a long nap.
Gaige leaned forward immediately. “Oh hell yes.”
The first fabrication unit descended from the machine with a hydraulic hiss.
Metal plates slid into position.
Servo joints locked.
Within seconds, a combat loader dropped to the ground beneath the Constructor and straightened to its full height.
The robot turned its head.
Its optics glowed to life.
Gaige slapped the side of the console in delight. “That was like twenty seconds!”
Gladstone looked smug. “Twenty-two, technically.” Why would you correct her if it was two seconds longer than she thought it was? Some eggheads had no sense for showboating.
Another fabrication arm deployed.
A smaller machine emerged this time—sleek and compact with rotating sensors.
A survey drone lifted into the air and began circling the yard in a smooth patrol arc.
Then another loader dropped.
Then another.
And another.
Within a minute, a small formation of robots stood beneath the hovering Constructor while several drones buzzed overhead like mechanical hornets.
Roland’s posture shifted slightly as the tactical math started running behind his eyes. “Mobile manufacturing,” he murmured quietly. “Field deployment in real time.”
Another loader hit the ground with a heavy metallic thud.
Roland nodded slowly. “That changes a lot.”
Athena watched the machines move through their basic patrol routines. “Self-sustaining battlefield support,” she said thoughtfully. “A small force could hold territory indefinitely.”
Nearby, Gaige and Angel were practically vibrating with excitement.
“Oh man,” Gaige said, staring up at the Constructor. “You could scale this up like crazy.”
Angel nodded. “If we network multiple units, they could coordinate entire defense grids.”
I barely heard them.
Because I was staring at the Constructor with the deep satisfaction of a man watching his problems solve themselves in real time.
Loaders.
Drones.
Automated patrols.
Concordia’s defenses multiplying by the minute.
I grinned.
“Look at that,” I said proudly. “Mobile automated security. This is how civilization survives on a death moon.”
Lilith folded her arms, watching the robots assemble beneath the floating machine.
Then she leaned a little closer. “Please don’t turn into a dictator.”
“Technically, I already am one.” I shrugged. “I did not run for office. I kinda just killed the last guy in charge, and took over… not really by choice but still.”
“Yeah, tell me about it.” Lilith laughed. “Being mayor gets old quick. I’m almost happy that I left Brick in charge of Sanctuary.”
“Really?” I blinked.
“I said almost.” She deadpanned.
I considered that.
Fair.
Lilith rested a hand lightly on my arm. “Just try not to accidentally conquer anything else,” she said. “Please. For me?”
“Hey,” I glanced down at her. “I only conquer things that deserve it.”
She raised an eyebrow. “…that sentence worries me.”
“Relax.” I grinned. “I’m a dad, with another kid on the way. I know how to be responsible.” Like how to responsibly build an entire army. I won’t lie!
It feels good, it feels…
Is the Constructor humming louder?
Yeah, I think it is.
Another fabrication arm just extended. Then there was a loud metallic pop.
Everyone turned.
The Constructor shuddered slightly.
A plume of smoke puffed out of one of the fabrication ports. Then the entire machine erupted in a small but extremely dramatic explosion.
Fire burst from the underside.
A loader half-finished in the assembly cradle dropped to the ground in pieces.
The drones scattered.
Everyone stared.
“Victory!” A cheerful voice rang out across the yard. “I have had my revenge!” Claptrap raised both arms triumphantly.
Well.
I have to kill him now.
“I knew pop rocks and soda was the way to go!”
Damn.
Now I don’t even get to kill him.
I stared at the burning wreckage of the Constructor prototype. My brand new robot factory. My beautiful automated defense system.
Currently on fire.
Yeah.
This was going to take some work…