"SEE YOU LATER, PAUL-PAUL!" Zan yelped more loudly than he intended. His belly full, he was ready to clean up and re-dress himself for the day to come. He and the chef had a lively conversation concerning the nature of family. Although he found this topic too tricky and tense to discuss with most people, with Paul-Paul, it was different. He had his own family issues and so he felt like he and Paul-Paul were on much better footing.

  As usual, the conversation ended with not enough words passed between them. Which is not to say the conversation was empty. Merely that they had run out of time. Being a professional, Paul-Paul whipped up his breakfast faster than he could scarf it down. Which was impressively fast, he hastily added to his internal monologue. He would have to content himself for waiting until the next time he and the chef crossed paths. 'Such as tomorrow, maybe,' he mused, though not seriously, since he knew he would be returning to Guygale today via the Backroads.

  With nothing else to do he returned to the war room to check in with the Wardens.

  "How are you all doing today?" he asked as the expected social obligation.

  "We are doing well. Thank you for asking," Simulacrum said. "However, you do not have to go through the pleasantries if you do not wish to."

  He knew that he did not have to endure the pleasantries, but he did not mind. Not with the Wardens. Some people were different. Too much small talk and he faded right out. Like a pair of underpants washed one too many times. Considering how vital the Wardens were to their continued safety and wellbeing in the world, he found no issue with giving them a moment of his will. "It's all good," he told Simulacrum.

  "You will be returning to the Guygale encampment, then? Please do not leave until Sigma-Prime speaks. She had news on the state of the command center," Simulacrum spoke.

  Saying he would wait a few minutes, Sigma-Prime was right along. She entered the command center from outside. 'Why was she outside?' he thought. 'She's never outside...'

  "Apologies for the wait," she told him. "I was giving direction to our engineer corps. Which is to say, 'yes,' the establishment of an engineering department was successful. I also took the liberty of establishing a frontline guard unit. As a Martial order we must take it upon ourselves to train others in the way of self-defense. I do not believe these guardsmen will be ready for combat alongside you anytime soon, unfortunately."

  "That is all right, Sigma. I think a guard unit for the camp is long overdue. I can't believe I haven't thought about it yet... so much in my mind, lately. Sorry. Yeah. Keep the guards here. If anything, only those who really want to leave home and fight should be required to... I am not trying to run an army, here. Wait... or are we?" he told Sigma-Prime, thinking mostly to himself, aloud, but still thinking all the same, trying to make sense of this constantly evolving mess.

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  "An army would not be out of the question. Previous iterations of the Order have functioned as a standalone army before. As a Martial Order, our goals are what are important. Not the form the Order takes for the completion of those goals."

  He reflected on the idea... "So, we could be mercenaries?"

  "Correct. If the grandmaster considered such a course to be the best course within the given situation, that is."

  "Strange. I considered us to be battle-monks..." he told Sigma of the vague idea he had of the order within his head.

  "Battle monks is what we could be, if you willed it," Sigma-Prime said. "Remember: it is our goal, not the form the Order takes to fulfill that goal."

  "Okay, noted!" he said with a chirp. "Anything you have to say before I kick-it?"

  "Kick... it?" Sigma-Prime asked, confused.

  "Sorry. That's slang. I meant, 'do you have anything to say to me before I leave?'"

  "Oh, yes! I do have one more update to share. I dispatched a crew to Thundervale to purchase for Order use a new wagon," she said. "I used some local currency gained from tribute. I authorized this because the engineering corps' first assignment has been put into motion. We are cleaning up the decommissioned automotrons as you've ordered. A good sum has been cleaned up already. There is more spiritual energy trapped within the decayed golems than I would have imagined. I wonder if it is because of the relatively high number of times the Slipstream has appeared? My hypothesis is Unfulfilled Magic from the Slipstream is 'warming,' so to speak, and preserving higher amounts of residual magic embedded within the golems."

  "Sounds a good possibility as any other potential," he said. He had no clue about Slipstream function, so her idea was as better than his own.

  "Yes! I think so as well! With the spiritual matter broken down and processed into the center's spirit core, we are slowly restoring our reserves of magical energy. It is my aim to use this accumulated magical energy to fully restore the base. Such a usage will not be possible for a long time yet, but we are hard at work on it and will be every day until we reach our lofty goal. Once the base is fully restored from this energy renewal, our capabilities will expand dramatically. Which will translate well to helping you on the battlefield," she explained.

  "Feck yeah. I love it," he said, more subdued than his words implied.

  "Keep up the hard work. I really do appreciate all the crap you do for the Order. Is there anything I can do before I leave?" he said.

  "Actually, there is: on your journeys through the Guygale bunker you picked up several relatively common resources. You found several tangles of Ancient Tech Meshes and Fae Matter. Would you be so kind as to donate those resources here and now to the command center?" Sigma-Prime asked.

  The question took him off-guard. He couldn't think of a reason not to, problem was... "I will but that stuff is back at the Guygale camp. I can hop on between the two nice and quick, though. I would have to wait a few hours for the chamber to cool down. Waiting for the cooldown both ways would take a good part of the day. Can you wait until I have reason to return to the command center?"

  "Absolutely. Waiting is fine. We have many more fallen automotrons to gather. Then with general oversight, the time will fly away. The next time it appears you are heading our way, I will ding you with a remainder to bring the resources."

  Sounds good. I will be on my way to the White Chamber, then and--" he said, before he could finish, though, Simulacrum interrupted.

  "DANGER! DANGER!" he blared. "Zan! You are needed right away at the Guygale base. Whiskey and Jiehong are under attack by Expanse forces!"