GOES FIRST. SEES FIRST.
CARRIES ALMOST NOTHING.
A wheeled route-picker with thermal eyes — and a watch mode measured in days.
Route Survey · Overwatch · Silent Watch · Scout-Plus-Mule
A low, fast, wheeled scout that runs the route before the heavy movers commit to it — EO and thermal eyes on a mast, a silent-watch mode measured in days, and not one emission on any tier. It carries almost nothing, and that is the design: the payload is what it sees.
A wheeled route-picker with thermal eyes — and a watch mode measured in days.
Route Survey · Overwatch · Silent Watch · Scout-Plus-Mule
Lynx CS-240 is the ground family's scout: where the anchor is mass, payload and flotation, the Lynx is speed, perception and economy of presence. A 50 kg moulded-polymer shell on four independently driven wheels, with an EO/LWIR pod on a brush-shedding mast.
It protects exactly two things — the perception stack and the battery — inside a crash-protected core, with sacrificial moulded structure outboard. Everything else is replaceable at scout-tier cost, and cheap to replace only because the moulds are ours. Wheels are a decision, not a default: driveline efficiency, ride quality, quietness and tyres as a field consumable — a stalker's chassis, chosen for stated reasons.
And the honesty that anchors the platform: the 50 kg wheeled scout presses harder on the ground than the 500 kg tracked Grizzly. So the Lynx is a route-picker, not a muskeg machine — it scouts where wheels carry and reports the rest, which is exactly what the convoy behind it needs.
A scout must stop short of what it has not yet classified — so its honest top speed is set by how far it reliably sees, not by its motors. Bigger motors buy nothing; better perception and lower latency buy speed directly. We publish the physics that says so, with its conditions attached.
Four electric corner drives give torque from zero and graceful degradation — a Lynx driving on three wheels still limps home. Above them, the autonomy stack does the real governing: speed is slaved to perception confidence, in software, as a load-bearing safety function.
See 10 m through dust and brush, and the honest speed is ~23 km/h. See 20 m in good daylight: ~35. See 40 m on open ground: ~51. The drivetrain could sprint faster than any of it — which is why the governor watches the sensors, not the throttle. Every speed claim on this page states its perception conditions, or it isn't made.
Reporting honours the no-radio rule absolutely. On overwatch, the Lynx creeps on a fibre tether and streams in real time. On deep scout, it records — and the recording is the report, delivered by driving home or by handing a sealed data tray to the courier bay. Silent watch in between: mast up, wheels still, stack duty-cycled down to watch-mode watts, for days.
The complete data card for the Lynx scout — dimensions, performance, endurance, sensing, guidance and compliance, grouped the way a fleet buyer compares them.
Range and silent-watch figures are modelled over the stated ground and temperature conditions; every speed figure states its perception horizon. The flotation inversion is printed, not buried: at ≈10.2 kPa the 50 kg wheeled scout presses harder on the ground than its 500 kg tracked mule, so it does not go everywhere the Grizzly goes — it scouts where wheels carry and reports the rest.
The no-radio doctrine collides hardest with reconnaissance — and the Lynx resolves it the fleet's way: emit nothing, record everything, deliver physically or by fibre. Nothing to intercept, nothing to direction-find, nothing to jam.
The carrier doctrine is built into the architecture, not just the policy: mobility sensing and the mission payload live on separate electrical, data and software boundaries. The Lynx's sensors answer "what is out there, and will the ground hold a convoy" — they cue nothing and guide nothing, and no variant carries an effector. A sensor carrier — never a strike platform. Manufacturing-wise it is the most mouldable platform in the ground family — the purest ground application of the division's tooling-first cost thesis.
The Lynx runs the route first — will the ground hold, is the route clear — and the Grizzly follows with the load. Route survey out, convoy follow back. The scout's logs feed the family's terrain-bearing question with ground truth, one proven kilometre at a time.
One rotation, walked end to end — illustrative of how the scout is used, not a mission record.
Fifty kilograms rides in a truck bed, on a family deck, or under a sling. At the start point the recon pod seats in the bay, the mast checks its shed-and-survive travel, and the route brief loads. In the field it charges from a Grizzly's pack — the mule feeds the scout.
The Lynx runs the route at the speed its horizon supports — quick on open ground, slow and deliberate in brush. Where the ground gets doubtful it logs bearing data for the heavy follower. Then the stalk: mast up behind a treeline, wheels still, stack dimmed to watch-mode watts, thermal eyes open for days.
On overwatch the fibre already carried the picture home. On deep scout the Lynx drives back — the recording is the report — or hands its sealed tray to the courier chain. Pack swap, tyre check, lens wipe: the turnaround is minutes, because everything that wears is a cheap moulded or catalogue part.
The Lynx runs the route first — will the ground hold, is the route clear — and the Grizzly follows with the load. Route survey out, convoy follow back: the scout's logs feed the family's terrain-bearing question with ground truth, one proven kilometre at a time.
Speed, perception and economy of presence — goes first, sees first, carries almost nothing.
Download PDF ↓The 500 kg tracked mule — mass, payload and flotation. It follows the route the Lynx proves, and in the field its pack feeds the scout.
Download PDF ↓If your operation moves heavy things over doubtful ground — or needs quiet eyes on a point for days without a single emission — the scout conversation starts here.