The fires of the foundry roared with life, like a dragon’s breath the heat that had begun to dim as a result of neglect and abuse from an unworthy caretaker crackled with the fury of a slumbering giant.
Steel, brass, copper, lead, and glass were imdiately pushed towards production. Dean walked side by side with Brooke, he did not wear his winter coveralls, instead he wore a ranger green turtleneck with his early-winter transitional camo combat pants.
The usual deep winter camo only appeared on the paint of his weapons, his combat belt, and his plate carrier. It was a mismatch that one might fight jarring to the eyes, but was far more comfortable in such a heated environnt.
Brooke dressed more comfortably, wearing clothes fashioned from hemp over the course of her ti in Elysium. Her workers toiled and dredged in the background, covered in oil, gri, and soot.
But their expressions did not contain the slightest hint of a contempt, exhaustion, or dread. Instead, they were smiling as they gave everything into producing exactly what Dean had requested.
All the while, Brooke looked over the inventory manifest. What had survived the raiders’ plunder, and was usable as pure stock for a new industry.
They walked around the foundry, observing each station manned while she counted their blessings, and that which had been lost by the previous occupants.
"The factory is better suited towards local production of construction materials, not war materials. If you want to make new weapons, it will be difficult. Nobody here is a gunsmith, let alone so kind of an obsolescent profession like a sword smith. I don’t even know where we could get a chemist, or the facility to produce the gunpowder you need."
Dean nodded silently while watching the n continue with their efforts. After repeated engagents with multiple enemies, munitions were running out quickly. If Elysium could not manufacture smokeless powder, then the use of automatic weapons, or even semi-automatic weapons was the fever dream of a madman.
The reality was, and Dean knew it well, that their professional standards, which had carved out a small territory to survive in, could only be maintained by an extrely complex logistical supply chain, one they did not have.
Nor did he have the slightest idea of how to recover. Dean simply shook his head and sighed, looking over at the n working as if they had just recovered their own happiness.
He nodded before responding to Brooke’s concerns in the best way he knew how.
"Weapons and munitions, while vital for continued security operations, are not our imdiate concern. What we need more than anything is building materials, we can only salvage so much usable material for continued production of living space."
Brooke knew Dean was right, but her experiences with the world that had erged since the beginning of the long winter had made her paranoid.
And Dean could tell as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and dragged her in close. The heat of his breath glancing past her ears.
"Relax... Ro wasn’t built in a day, now was it? You’re pushing yourself too hard."
She allowed herself a sigh of relief and a mont of comfort. She didn’t know why, but in three days since the foundry had been retaken, and the bandits had been buried beneath the snow, Brooke found herself increasingly relaxed around Dean.
It wasn’t just that she no longer fought Yuki over petty pride. It was as if she was starting to finally get accustod to this sudden change in her life, but she felt that Dean was wholly responsible for it.
"I know, I just... I’m worried is all? How the hell are we going to feed my employees? And keep their families warm when the world outside is a frozen hellhole. It’s not like we can scale your grid in Elysium all the way here."
"You are kind of cute when you’re worried, did you know that?" Dean chuckled, smiling as he pet Brooke’s silky wine-colored hair. It was a gesture that in the past would have made Brooke furious, treating her like a child, but she couldn’t help but cling tighter to the man, pursing her lips as she demanded an answer all the sa.
"Even so... that doesn’t solve our problem of central heating...."
Dean nodded as he continued to walk Brooke through the facility until they got to the central chamber of the foundry, where its largest furnace was. They gazed upon its heat, which blasted them so fiercely it felt as if they had just walked out of the snow and into a desert.
"You’re worrying about nothing, Brooke, I figured out the solution to these days ago when we first got the forges up and running again. The amount of heat this thing produces will be enough...."
Brooke was confused, her brow furrowed as she looked up at Dean’s face, which was eagerly gazing at the flas, almost as if he was envisioning sothing that was out of this world.
"Yes, the foundry produces an imnse amount of heat. But it’s why as the winter got worse I brought everyone in here, specifically. Even though it was dangerous, it provided enough warmth to keep us all alive. But the warmth from the forge can’t travel throughout the whole complex, let alone the expansions we intend to build. So tell , Archon... what mad idea have you conjured up this ti?"
Dean didn’t speak, not at first, he clicked his tongue three tis while wagging his finger.
"Not madness, genius! There’s a fine line you know! Or so I’ve been told...."
Brooke’s expression clearly hinted that she was not the least bit entertained by his playful evasion. Causing Dean to sigh and recover a far more neutral tone.
"Alright, fine, I was just trying to lighten the mood, but seriously, this isn’t as big an issue as you’re making it. Sure, modern buildings favor complex central heating solutions. But the Romans figured this out millennia ago. If we build with hypocaustic flooring, flue channels and proper ventilation, we can effectively siphon off the excess heat produced by the foundry and sent it throughout the rest of the complex, especially the expansions we intend to build."
Brooke stood in complete and total astonishnt at the claim that Dean had just made. Her family was a construction supply company, she had worked with many contractors over the years, she could more or less understand what Dean was discussing, even if she didn’t know the exact specifics of its function.
She stared at Dean in disbelief, he had already solved the biggest problem she had been dreading over the last few days, while she failed to co up with a concrete solution on her own.
And he spoke as if it were the most obvious solution anyone could ever co up with.
"Dean... I take back every bad thought I ever had of you... You were way too good for our rotten old public sector."
Dean broke out into a soft laugh as he shook his head in disbelief.
"I don’t know why you girls all think I only know about military matters. I keep telling you I was a weekend warrior at best, my day job for the last few years was a civil engineer...."
Brooke, however did not laugh this ti, instead her expression was absolutely deadpan as she responded to Dean’s words.
"Yeah, well, I’ve t plenty of civil engineers in my life. But I have only t one man who claid to be such a thing who can take another life so coldly and precisely its almost second nature. So I tend to forget that you’re not just so dumb grunt, but you’re actually quite intelligent."
Dean didn’t speak, he realized then and there that anything he could say in his defense would actually be counterproductive towards he purpose.
---
It was basically impossible to deny, and yet even as the days passed, Central Command continued to stonewall Nathaniel’s requests to send an expeditionary force north of the habitable zone’s border to determine the reality beyond.
Witness testimony, photographic evidence of rogue actors captured or killed, and docuntation of weapon parts scavenged from dead rogue actors that led straight to abandoned National Guard armories from the north.
None of it mattered to Central Command; it was the sa story. "There is nothing that exists beyond the habitable zone. Any expedition north would be suicidal and a waste of resources."
He was effectively being told not to believe his lying eyes and ears. And frankly, Nathaniel had endured enough bullshit to last a lifeti.
After reading the docunt in his hands, he finally reached his breaking point. He picked up his phone and began dialing Central Command’s direct number, about to give them a piece of his mind when he suddenly stopped himself.
With a heavy sigh, he reset the number and began to dial sowhere else. Waiting for the line to connect impatiently, he tapped his foot on the floor beneath his desk until finally a voice ca on the other end of the line.
Then, and only then, did he speak.
"Prepare a team to go north of the boundary... I want to know what the hell is going on up there."
He didn’t wait for an answer, he simply hung up the phone and poured himself a stiff drink... He had just violated orders and would be facing severe penalties for doing so, especially during a ti of crisis.
But if his suspicions were proven correct, and he believed they were, he might just erge from this insubordination entirely unscathed.
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