Chapter: 201
Before he called Marcella, he reminded himself that he had to get in touch with his other employees as well. He assigned both Calsie and Gavin the important task of shaping public opinion.
"Hey boss! You're back!" Calsie perked up when she received his call.
"How is Cloudy Curtain's business climate these days?"
"It's not looking too well." She grimaced. "The war fever is dividing the population in two. You've got the younger generation who are all enthusiasts about mechs and the older folk who want their planet to be left alone. The problem is that the latter group is holding the reins of power."
The Greens and the White Doves formulated an effective strategy to fight against the creeping push of mechs onto their world. They gave up on the young folk who had never experienced a war in their lifetime and focused on the jaded parents and grandparents who personally lived through the previous Bright-Vesia Wars.
Ves frowned at the news. "Is the Republican Commissioner letting them get away with it?"
"That geezer is deliberately acting obtuse when we meet with him." Calsie said angrily. "He only offered vague platitudes and stuck to his opinion that he shouldn't involve himself in local politics. Hah! If I didn't know any better, the ruling coalition has him in their pockets. Too bad I don't have any proof."
That sounded highly disturbing because the Commissioner was supposed to keep the locals in check, not the other way around.
"Are there any worries in the short term?"
"Not at the moment. The tax bill has stalled due to a lack of overall support. Recently, the Pioneers took advantage of the situation and expanded their influence. They've been a great help in protecting the local businesses."
Ves sneered at the actions of the Pioneers. They only stepped in once Ves paved the way. Their shameless opportunism knew no limits.
They discussed a few matters but Ves wanted to return home before making any major decisions.
In truth, Ves had already taken measures to distract the Greens and the White Doves from pushing through their plans. If Dietrich did what he asked, the Consortiums pulling the strings behind the ruling coalition would find themselves in a spot of trouble with Walter's Whalers.
After remotely checking up his accounts and his administration, Ves decided to call Marcella. He had been out of the loop for a while and wanted to hear from her own mouth how the current market had developed these last few months.
His mech broker picked up his call after a minute. "Good to see you in one piece, Ves! I'm glad to see the frontier hasn't bitten you in half!"
"I didn't get bit, but I also didn't come off unscathed." He responded with a rueful laugh. He briefly filled her in on what he experienced.
"I can see why you're concerned about the Fleet. You have to remember that they serve their own interests above anyone else's."
Once they moved on to business, Marcella filled him in on his latest sales. "Both your gold and silver label mechs are starting to appear in public. None of your Mark II's have seen any major action so far, but they are performing well enough in training exercises. The customers who bought your gold label mechs are especially satisfied with their comfort."
"That's to be expected. I specifically fabricated them to fit their operators well." Ves replied with a nod. The X-Factor was one of his secret weapons and showed their true worth in the machines he fabricated himself by hand. "What about the silver label mechs?"
"Carlos is making them up to spec, more or less. Occasionally, minor defects pop up here and there, but as long as the machines pass certification, it's not a big deal. Nevertheless, the current market for last gen mechs is cratering pretty fast. I've already lowered the price from 30 million credits to 28 million credits."
In the meantime, the cost of raw materials had also gone up. Both trends had already started squeezing out the mech designers who had barely been hanging on. They simply couldn't sell their products at a sustainable profit anymore.
Ves risked following in their footsteps if he waited too long on coming up with a new design.
"You should take a look at these when you can." Marcella sent him some reports over the communications channel. "They're the latest projections on the current market trends in the Bright Republic and throughout the Komodo Star Sector. Sales are up, but they're mainly driven by mass purchase orders of frontline mechs. The middle segment of the market in which your Mark II falls under is seeing a major slump in sales and interest."
He expected this to happen. During wartime, the side with the most mechs held a decisive advantage. People might scoff at a frontline mech that cost only 15 million credits or less, but you could easily field thousands of them at once as long as you can scrounge up enough mech pilots.
While he read through some of the reports, Ves asked another question. "I'm in need of a lot of cash, since I'm preparing to design an original mech. Do you have any leads on when I can receive an order for my ruby label product line?"
Marcella grimaced at him over the projection. "Like your gold label mechs, the price premium for your ruby label line is too optimistic, especially considering the market's current appetite for luxury mechs. You have to come up with a better value proposition."
The main problem with the ruby label product line was that Ves did not have the opportunity to demonstrate its strength. Without a real example for people to point at, no one would know of the mutually reinforcing aspect of the X-Factor.
Despite the lack of takers, Ves stuck to his original conditions. Any mech sold by the LMC that carried the ruby label should come with an exclusive status. Each batch would be uniquely customized to fit the customer's demands. This took a lot of work and demanded him to exert his utmost. The seventy-five percent premium he charged for the ruby label was a matter of principle.
"There may be a way if you join some events. If you show up at a fair or exhibition, you'll get the opportunity to make your case in front of an affluent audience."
"I'll think about it." He responded, though he privately objected to the idea. He partnered up with Marcella so that she could handle all of his marketing and sales. "Once I've finished my business in Leemar, I'll come by so we can hash it out."
Once she signed off, Ves slumped forward and held his head in his hands. While disaster hadn't struck his business while he was gone, he faced increasingly dire circumstances.
The Barracuda spent a couple of weeks racing from the edge of the Komodo StarSector. The closer she got to the center of the sector, the more traffic she encountered. With the expert navigation of her pilot, the Barracuda never came close to other vessels while she transitioned into a star system.
During the quiet voyage to Leemar, Ves spent most of his time cooped up in his stateroom. Designing an original mech was never an easy project. The lack of existing boundaries provided mech designers with endless choices.
Mech designers had to possess a strong vision as well as solid skills to come up with a good design. Since Ves had some free time on his hands, he visited the Clifford Society's Star Library and read as many free books as possible.
He mostly spent his time deepening his foundation in Battle Mechatronics. The Skill provided him with an overarching perspective on designing melee mechs that he couldn't easily get anywhere else.
While his Battle Mechatronics hadn't advanced to Journeyman-level in these couple of weeks, he did gain a lot of benefits from his reading. His expanded range of knowledge counterbalanced his earlier infusion of knowledge that came tinged with Master Olson's perspective.
"What do you think is better?" Ves asked Melkor while they consumed their latest meal. "A mech that's decent but will last forever or a mech that's slightly better but breaks in twenty years?"
Melkor rubbed his visor. "That's a difficult question. It's an open question that depends on many variables. The Mech Corps is rather slow to adopt new designs, so they highly value mechs that can take a beating and keep going. Mercenaries on the other hand are used to the consumer culture of buying a mech and using it for a set amount of years before replacing them with a new one."
"I see. So the Mech Corps is taking the long view of things while the private market cares more about immediate performance."
With his current capabilities, Ves had no chance of taking part in the lucrative business of selling his mechs to the government. He had to stick within his means and focus on the mercenaries and corporations that made up his existing clientele.
"What kind of design do you have in mind?" Melkor asked. As a mech pilot, he knew how much the first original design reflected on the career of the mech designer. Anyone who had the guts to publish a deeply flawed design as his first product could never fully get rid of the stigma he accumulated on his debut.
Jason Kozlowski was a good example of this phenomenon. Releasing the bloated Caesar Augustus design at its current form gave him a reputation of having too much money but not enough sense.
"I'm designing a knight."
Of all the archetypes he designed so far, Ves achieved the most success with the knight. His Young Blood virtual design achieved the most sales out of his catalog of virtual mechs.
Additionally, his only real production designs consisted of hybrid knights. While the Marc Antony Mark I and IIs inherited some of the baggage from the base model, Ves also learned a lot of lessons on how to design a good knight.
"That's a good type to start with." Melkor replied, though he also added some caveats. "You should be aware that there's only a limited appetite for knights. Rifleman mechs sell the most, followed by the various types of light mechs such as scouts and skirmishers. A typical mercenary squad consists of one knight, three rifleman mechs and two other mechs."
"I'm aware of the differences in sales."
The reports Marcella sent to Ves largely echoed those figures. A knight played a limited role on the battlefield. The most common mech doctrines centered around the flexible rifleman mech, which could fulfill a variety of roles even if they didn't excel in any of them.
In comparison, a knight could only be employed as a defender or as the leading element of a charge.
Despite these limitations, Ves wanted to stick to what he knew best for his first original design. If he tried his hands on other archetypes, his lack of experience might result in leaving behind a huge flaw when he finally published his design.
"A knight is solid, simple and robust." Ves mused. "It's harder to go wrong with a knight as opposed to a rifleman mech. Then again, the market is stricter about knights because the mech pilot has to trust in his machine in order to absorb blows meant for others."
Occasionally, a few scandals erupted in the news about knights. Usually, a hardcore mech geek studied a knight design in detail and managed to find a small but critical vulnerability. Any opponent that applied pressure on this weak point could instantly cripple the unsuspecting knight.
Any mech designer that suffered from this scandal retired from the business in disgrace. Mech pilots trusted their products to guard their lives. To have them turn into death traps due to negligence and incompetence represented a profound betrayal of the mech designer's creed.
Ves had to be very careful in this matter. Still, he possessed a decent amount of confidence that he could deliver a successful product. He already formed a vision on what his upcoming design should be.
Chapter 202: Vision
Ves had seen a lot of knight designs in his mech career. Besides studying the classics, he also had hands-on experience with a couple of different models.
Caesar Augustus bore no introduction. The overstuffed hybrid knight tried to do everything at once and made a decent attempt at it by virtue of its excellent armor system. Ves captured some of the majesty of this ambitious design with the Marc Antony, but the cheap HRF armor plating hobbled the core purpose of a knight, which was to be a defensive bulwark.
"It's a rather decent design for its price range."
For a design that utilized uncompressed armor, the Marc Antony Mark II functioned well enough to those who couldn't afford anything better. Its cheap composition meant that replacing broken armor plating should be cheap and easy.
"The greatest strength of the Mark II is its cost-effectiveness."
That wasn't always a good thing. It basically meant that the Mark II had no other distinguishing features that allowed Ves to set a premium on his product. He had kept his prices low in order to sustain the handful of sales he made each month.
Competing on price always ended up as a race to the bottom.
The current circumstances in which he had to gradually decrease the price on his mech reflected this reality. Though some of the blame also lay on the generational gap, it couldn't be concealed that the Marc Antony series lacked a distinguishing feature that it excelled at. A jack of all trades was a master of none.
The second knight he had an intimate relationship with was the Hoplite and the Young Blood he derived from the classic model. The spear-wielding knight possessed a number of interesting innovations that he partially incorporated in his sword-wielding variant.
Both models emphasized the offensive nature of a knight. While they fulfilled the defensive role well, they excelled at keeping up with an offensive push as they possessed a bit more mobility than usual.
"An offensive knight is harder to design than a defensive knight."
Both had their own strengths, but an offensive knight had to fulfill multiple criteria. It had to maintain a high level of defense while simultaneously possessing a higher level of mobility. Since mech designers usually had to decide between speed and armor, striking the right balance could be challenging.
"It's an interesting one, and one that fits my interests."
Ves had never aimed to design the fastest mech, nor the sturdiest one. He knew of mech designers who dedicated their entire lives to pursuing one extreme.
Raul Mendoza, known as 'The Armorer', had become an inspiration to every mech designer for relentlessly developing the best-protected mechs in the galaxy. Ves read his biography when he studied at Rittersberg and knew that while he faced many temptations to branch out in other paths, he stuck to his creed and continued to focus on armor and armor alone.
Another model that struck him deeply was the Ajax Olympian. The massive heavy knights possessed a boundless amount of strength and sturdiness that allowed them to resist the monstrous Kaius.
His intimate work on studying its design and tweaking it for greater performance gave him an inside look in the mind of a knight designer. Though he couldn't apply all the lessons he learned from a heavy knight to a medium knight design, some aspects remained common to every weight class.
However, there was one more knight that struck a very profound image to Ves. His ancestor's customized mech the Valiant had been through a lot and outlived the death of its pilot. Whenever Ves thought back on the ancient knight, he could practically taste the history radiating off its frame.
Of all the mechs he had seen in his life, only the Valiant showed him a possible way forward. Beyond its exquisite design and rugged durability, the knight developed an extremely potent X-Factor by virtue of its hallowed history.
"I want to design a mech like that."
He wanted to design a mech that became increasingly more compatible with its pilot. Those who bonded with such machines gained increasingly more substantial benefits the longer they used it. Ves hoped to embody the ideals of the Living Mech Corporation with such products.
"It's not going to be easy bringing this dream to life."
Ves activated his terminal and wrote a quick list of demands.
First, it had to be durable. Its internal architecture should be robust enough to keep going even under the most hellish circumstances.
More importantly, Ves had to invest in a good quality armor system composed of compressed alloys. A lot of different formulas and armor systems existed on the market, but only a few would be appropriate for his purposes. The resources required to form the armor plating should be abundantly available in the Bright Republic.
Secondly, his mech had to possess a decent amount of mobility. Ves did not plan to experiment with gimmicks this time. Overcomplicated gadgets often introduced vulnerabilities in the core design, and with his skills he couldn't guarantee he'd catch them all.
No, Ves simply planned to balance the weight of the frame with a strong engine and efficient artificial musculature. Master Olson happened to be an expert in this field, so he hoped to pick up something good in Leemar.
"Offensive knights are characterized by their ability to leverage their aggression into shock attacks."
In that regard, his intended design should barely be able to meet that standard if Ves managed to get his hands on the right components. Besides getting his hands on a powerful engine model, he also had to trim the armor scheme to keep down its bulk.
"It's going to be hard to accomplish all of these wishes without breaking the bank."
Cheaper components generally performed worse than more expensive ones. However, the market only cared about how well the final design fulfilled its purpose at a given price level.
A good mech designer could take a crappy set of component licenses and easily cobble up a cheap but practical mech design.
A bad mech designer would always publish a deeply flawed mech design, even if he had access to the best components in the galaxy.
In fact, more expensive components always introduced a lot of complexity in the design. In addition, they required a higher proportion of rare and expensive exotics to deliver such extreme performance.
Still, Ves hoped to design a knight for the premium segment of the mech market. At the very least, it should be a knight that was able to compete in the same price class as the current Caesar Augustus.
Ves set his price target at 60 million credits for the most basic silver label variant. Such a price corresponded nicely with other premium knight models on the market. In order to ensure a stable profit, Ves should aim to keep the cost of production at around 30 to 40 million credits.
All of these criteria sounded fine and dandy, but they amounted to nothing as long as Ves failed to form a coherent vision of his future product.
Over the past few months, Ves mulled over how to elevate his design with a powerful vision.
"My mech isn't the fastest, nor the most indestructible one. It simply endures. It will keep going when you least expect it to. Even if it has suffered grievous injuries, it will grow stronger with every rebirth."
Ves named his first Mark I the Phoenix Cry. He did so because he already formed a hint of his ideal mech.
Central to the legend of the phoenix was its ability to be reborn after experiencing a nirvana. Similar to the phoenix, his first original mech design should become more powerful or at least more potent in its X-Factor each time it receives an overhaul.
If Ves could put this vision into reality, then he may be able to emulate the Valiant on a larger scale.
Such a bold ambition demanded not only a good design, but also a correspondingly powerful X-Factor.
"I'll have to test the limits of the X-Factor if I want it to acquire the properties I want. The X-Factor not only has to have room for growth, it also has to be tenacious enough so that others won't be able to wipe it away."
Until now, Ves formed a tentative theory that the X-Factor came into being if the mech, the mech designer and the mech pilot shared a common mindset.
He always feared that once other people such as Carlos or a mech technician started performing repairs, the mech would lose its X-Factor's potency.
Now those fears are gone. After he completed the Groening mission, Ves came away with more than an enhanced body. His mind also experienced a subtle transformation that Ves tentatively attributed to Jutland's heavenly flower. Though he hadn't tested his new strengths in an actual design process, he somehow knew that his ability to impart images had improved.
"Now that my mind is stronger, anything that I work on should have a more tenacious X-Factor. A random mech technician shouldn't be able to ruin my products if they replace a faulty screw or something."
Ves envisioned a hopeful future for his design where each of his mechs grew from infancy into unique machines. Each experience added to the history of the mech in question. In addition, the longer a mech pilot stuck with the same machine, the more the mech took on the mech pilot's traits.
He felt as if he became the architect of something new and unknown. Though the risks were great, if he succeeded in this project, Ves expected he'd be able to take this concept and use it as the core of his nascent design philosophy.
Of course, the System also played a part in this process. While the System never taught him how to work with the X-Factor directly, it was undeniable that it had put him onto this path.
His high mental attributes formed the key to empowering the X-Factor. Ves even suspected the reason why most mech designers still remained clueless about it was because their level of concentration hadn't reached the minimum threshold for it to become noticeable.
Even if they got their hands on the right theories and the correct techniques, without a correspondingly powerful mind, they'd simply be playing make-belief instead of accomplishing something real.
"My current concentration is higher than almost every other mech designer, but it's not enough for my purposes."
With an attribute score of 1.7, his concentration sufficiently enabled him to maintain three images at once, though they couldn't be too complex. Ves estimated that he required a much higher level of concentration in order to work with dynamic images that allowed for growth.
"I'll have to break the natural limit of the human mind in order to get to that point."
Ves already had an idea on what it meant to break the natural limit. Before the doctors of the CFA stabilized his body, he felt immensely powerful and healthy. Though he lost some of that potency, his body had already cracked open a slit into the realm of the superhuman.
He knew that if he wanted to raise his concentration to an even higher level, he had to accumulate a lot of design points. In between his busy schedule of acquiring all of the elements to form an original design, he also had to test out some of his ideas by designing a couple of virtual mechs.
"I can practice my design skills as well, so it won't be a waste of time."
After a couple of hours of quiet musing, Captain Silvestra sent him an alert. "We're about to transition into the Leemar System. Your orders, sir?"
"Head towards the inner system. Leemar II is our final destination. Once the local authorities know of my purpose, I'm sure they'll prepare an appropriate berth for the Barracuda."
Ves had contacted Horatio to let him know he'd be coming. Master Olson's assistant gave Ves a knowing look when he requested the help of a doctor. In any case, Horatio offered his sympathies and promised to inform their master.
"Hopefully, we won't stay for too long. Once I'm done with my shopping, it's time to go home."
He looked forward to turning his Phoenix project into reality.
Chapter: 203
Their arrival in the star system came with little fanfare. As the educational seat of the Carnegie Group, the Leemar System received billions of visitors each year. A single Apprentice Mech Designer raised no eyebrows, and Ves liked to keep it that way.
After a perfunctory inspection, the Barracuda zipped over towards the inner system and descended into the atmosphere of Leemar II. The slim corvette arrived at a private berth reserved for Leemar's affiliates like Ves, who became an apprentice of a visiting master.
First, he visited the Leemar School of Life Sciences situated on the other side of the planet. Unlike the Leemar Institute of Technology, the Carnegie Group founded the LSLS in the middle of an artificial tropical forest. A vast amount of alien flora and fauna made their home in this dangerous forest.
The frequent injuries and even near-deaths provided students with plenty of practice.
Fortunately, Ves possessed a thick skin so the voracious mosquito-like bugs buzzed helplessly around his body. Several other visitors deployed a small interference field that repelled the wildlife, but Ves didn't bother with the gadget and strode towards the institute scheduled to receive him. Once he stepped inside the cool interior, a doctor whisked him away for checkups.
After several days of intensive and sometimes invasive tests, Ves finally received a verdict.
"How's it look, doctor?"
The doctor in charge of his case gave him a smile. "Your genetics are in a very interesting place right now. Though we would have loved to have samples of the hexapods and a copy of the research data, right now we can conclude that your body won't develop malignant symptoms for the next five years. There is too much we don't know about your acquired alien traits to be sure of anything more."
"What about the CFA's treatment? Did they do what they promised to do?"
"It's absolutely brilliant what they did!" The doctor beamed. "We can surmise that Doctor Jutland induced your genetics into a highly active and malleable phase. This allows him to apply extensive modifications to your physique to the extent that he broke past the natural limits of the human body."
"And this is a bad thing?"
"You may not know this, but humans are not meant to possess so much strength. Your body would have slowly disintegrated as it strained to keep up its hyperactive state."
While Ves got lost in the specifics, he understood the main point easily enough. Just like his tweaks to the Ajax Olympian, his body couldn't handle the strain for an extended period of time.
The doctor also added in something interesting. "It's not actually unheard of to induce a human body to perform past its limits, but it's only relatively safe to do so for a few seconds at most. Any longer will result in severe repercussions."
The full results of the checkup showed that the CFA already remedied the repercussions that Ves had unwittingly accumulated. They also stabilized his genetics so that he wouldn't be vulnerable to biological attacks that targeted his genetics.
"So they hadn't sneaked in the back door or something?"
"No. Absolutely not!" The doctor shook his head. "We can trace their steps in your body. They've been very open about their procedures. It's safe to say that unless they employ their most advanced techniques, there's little chance your body is hiding something nefarious."
Ves knew his own worth. A pitiful junior like him didn't warrant such a massive investment. If the Carnegie Group's most premier medical institution hadn't found any hidden bombs, then he probably had a clean bill of health.
After receiving some warnings about his new condition, Ves left the institute with a spring in his step. He boarded a long-distance air car and flew towards the Leemar Institute of Technology on the other side of the planet.
This time, the LIT hosted no events, so its central campus appeared remarkably empty and tranquil.
He only brought Lucky along this time, having left out Melkor due the requirement that only Leemar's own security personnel could pilot mechs. Instead, he allowed him to visit one of the mech academies elsewhere on the planet with some credits in his pocket. Hopefully he'd find something useful during his visit.
His aircar flew past the titanic juggernaut wreck, allowing him to get a good glimpse of the starship-sized mech.
Whoever came up with the concept of the juggernaut must have been off his rocker. Though its monolithic size allowed it to mount warship-grade weapons, thereby circumventing the restrictions on weapons set by the MTA and the CFA, the drawbacks far outweighed the benefits.
"Only a first-rate superstate like the New Rubarth Empire can field this kind of boondoggle."
Even so, the Rubarthans largely phased out the juggernauts once everyone started developing counters for the giant brutes.
The story of the juggernauts proved that no single mech was perfect. Human ingenuity and adaptation always ensured there was something better.
The aircar landed on a landing pad next to an exclusive housing area where most of the eminent professors resided. A young man greeted him once he left the air car.
"Mr. Larkinson! Over here!" He called. When Ves walked over, the young man patted his body like he beheld a strange cow. "It's great to meet you! Wow, your skin is so firm! All the stories about you must be true!"
"Have you been sent by Master Olson?"
"Carmin is not even in the system right now! She's busy with another project. Horatio told me to accompany you and guide you around to where you need to go. Ah, where are my manners? I'm Oleg Vorn, Carmin's youngest core disciple!"
Ves almost tripped when he heard those words. The boy looked far too young and casual to be a core disciple. Oleg probably hadn't left his teens yet! Nothing about the core disciple hinted at any special traits that made a vaunted Master Mech Designer take him under her wing.
Oleg smiled teasingly at Ves. "Are you wondering why I caught Carmin's eye? I don't mind telling you if you tell me what you've experienced on the Groening mission."
As they walked towards Master Olson's estate, Ves regaled Oleg with a brief rundown on his experiences. Throughout the retelling, he felt as if he was reading a bedtime story to a small boy.
"Wow! That Jutland sure was stupid! He actually left you alone in a cave full of tools and parts! It's no wonder he died in the end!"
"So now that I've told you my story, how about yours?"
"Oh, it's nothing interesting." Oleg responded shyly. "I grew up on a little planet in the territory of the Vermeer Group. Ever since I saw my first mech cartoon, I instantly fell in love with them. They're so fascinating, right? I wanted to pilot them so badly that I hadn't slept all night the day I turned ten!"
What followed after sounded familiar to almost every norm. Oleg's neural aptitude didn't qualify him to be one of the 3.5 percent.
"If I can't pilot a mech, then I sure as hell do something else with them! When I found out about mech designers, I studied hard in school so that I could design the best mechs! It just so happens that I'm really good at it. So good, in fact, that the principal referred me to one of Carmin's scouts, who eventually patted my head and told me that I'm really smart!"
The way Oleg said those words sounded as if he hardly knew what a cherished chance he received. Billions of mech designers never had the chance to catch the eye of a master, while Oleg was born on the right planet and at the right time when Master Olson sought a few young seeds to nurture.
"So how far are you in your studies?"
"Oh, I know a lot about mech design!" Oleg boasted. "I even know how to design a mech engine!"
The young lucky bastard proceeded to explain his latest project. The amount of detail and depth in his descriptions almost overwhelmed Ves to the point of growing numb. What Oleg knew about engines and mechanics had definitely reached the level of Journeyman!
"The heavens aren't fair!" Ves muttered.
"What was that?"
"Oh nothing. I was just wondering about something. How old are you?"
"I'll be nineteen in three months!"
If Ves still had his baseline human body, he would have received a hard attack by now. Good graces! Oleg was just eighteen years old, but he already surpassed what Ves had painstakingly built up with the help of the System!
Though Ves felt a momentary surge of jealousy, he quickly suppressed it. The boy was scarily intelligent and his naive facade might be hiding a perceptive mind. Ves did not wish to make an enemy out of someone Master Olson cherished.
Besides, despite Oleg's natural endowments, Ves had high hopes he would surpass the boy one day with the help of the System. With such a heaven-defying tool in his possession, he had high hopes of reaching the pinnacle of mech design on his own terms.
"By the way, that's a nice cat you have." Oleg pointed at Lucky who silently padded alongside Ves. "I don't recognize its alloys. What's it made of?"
"I'm not sure myself. My father got him for me from a first-rate state."
That piqued his interest for sure. "An actual mechanical pet from a first-rate state? You're so lucky! I've also considered whether to get one myself, but the latest products take years to ship to our star sector! By then, everyone will laugh at me for owning such an outdated pet!"
Ves refrained from shaking his head. A pet was not a fashion accessory. Such words betrayed Oleg's perspective on mechs. He probably saw them as nothing more than tools instead of creations that deserved to be treated with respect. On account of Oleg's status, Ves refrained from mentioning any of his thoughts.
They walked for several more minutes until they came upon a highly guarded mansion. "Here we are! This is Carmin's home away from home! It's not the Titanium Garden, but it's home, in a way. Let me show you all the cool stuff!"
Oleg ran him through the gates and led him past the finely furnished halls and pleasant study rooms. As they reached the interior of the mansion, they stopped in front of a heavily guarded gate. A pair of menacing-looking guards in hulking exoskeleton suits regarded the pair with eyes.
"Lemme in guys!"
"Not so fast, Oleg." One of them said with a curt tone. He obviously didn't care to be respectful to the core disciple. "While you have permission to enter the basement, your new friend is not on the list."
"Oh, come on, do you know who he is? He's Ves Larkinson, the guy Carmin apprenticed last year! Horatio even handed me a temporary pass for him!"
When Oleg showed the guard a specially produced pass, the guards eventually relented. Oleg handed Ves the pass once they entered an elevator.
As the cabin traveled downwards, Ves looked at the pass with curiosity. "What can I do with this?"
"Oh lots! You basically have free access to all of the LIT's facilities, though most of that place is boring. It's also your access pass to the Clifford Society's headquarters up in the mountains. There's a lot of nifty security features integrated in the pass, so if you ever find yourself in trouble with the authorities, just flash the pass and they'll learn you're the real deal."
Ves did not expect to make use of that particular function. The Bright Republic and the Friday Coalition should already have a file on him so any random police officer shouldn't be able to arrest him on a whim.
Once the elevator reached its destination, the doors slid open and revealed what could be considered a mech designer's heaven.
"Welcome to Master Olson's personal workshop." Oleg grinned as he swooped his arms at the impressive. "Look at these beauties. Can you imagine fabricating a mech with these toys?"
Ves recognized none of the specific models of the machines in the workshop, but their construction alone revealed how special they were. All of the machines were made with the highest quality alloys. They incorporated an entire fortune's worth of exotics to push their speed and precision to their limits.
Besides the standard machines a mech designer utilized such as a 3D printer and an alloy compressor, Ves also spotted dozens of strange and even alien-looking machines that fulfilled unknown purposes. He didn't dare touch any of them in case he ruined these unique equipment.
After letting Ves take in the sights, Oleg took his hand and dragged him towards a corner of the workshop where a set of smaller and less impressive machines rested.
"This is the Apprentice Workshop. All the other machines are locked out to anyone but Carmin and Horatio. I know, I've tried to hack them all." Oleg said with a sulk. "I still swear Horatio is laughing at me behind my back! Anyway, every apprentice is free to use these gear!"
Though the Apprentice Workshop obviously housed more disposable machines, Ves still envied all of the shiny gear. The high-speed 3D printers alone made his carefully reconstructed Dortmund look like a joke.
"Why did you take me here, Oleg?"
Oleg smirked at Ves. "Oh, I'm just curious about your ability, that's all. As one of Carmin's apprentices, you should be familiar with mech design duels. Wanna make a bet? I'll give you something nice if you put up your mechanical cat as a stake."
Chapter: 204
"I'm not putting Lucky up for a bet!" Ves replied with alarm. "He's more than a pet to me. It's the last thing my father left me!"
That wasn't entirely true, but Ves really had a bad idea about this. A mere apprentice with the same status as a nominal disciple could never compete against a core disciple. Chances were high that Oleg would wipe the floor with him in every kind of mech design duel.
It appeared the core disciple didn't like his answer. He pouted cutely at Ves. "You haven't even listened to me out! Horatio mentioned to me that you're planning on designing your first original mech. You're going to need some good component licenses to impress the mech industry. It just so happens that I've got a couple of really good engine designs under my belt. I can guarantee you that their performance will top anything in your price range!"
The mention of winning a component license of a high quality engine design aroused his interest. Despite his firm reluctance to engage in the bet, he couldn't help but hear Oleg out. "I'm planning on designing a knight for the premium segment of the market of a third-rate state. The engine shouldn't be made out of too many rare exotics."
"Oh, that's even better! I've got a slew of economic engine schematics I designed for practice."
When Oleg turned on a projector and showed him the designs in question, Ves became utterly entranced. Due to his master's specialization, Ves knew a thing or two about mech engines.
From a brief glance, Ves could tell that Oleg's designs performed remarkably well even though they didn't incorporate too many exotics.
He estimated the market price of the worst engine license at 500 million bright credits. The value of most of the other engine licenses hovered around one to three billion bright credits.
To Ves, that sounded like an incredible fortune. To Oleg, that probably sounded like lunch money to him, especially when Ves took in the different price levels in the Coalition.
Still, the sheer talent and capability he showed off with these engine designs scared Ves from entertaining any ideas about winning a bet against Oleg. If his mech design skills were up to par with his engine design skills, then Ves had no hope of eking out a victory.
"I'm sorry, Oleg, but I'm merely a nominal disciple." He said as gently as possible. "Any duel between us will only end in my defeat. A bet isn't a bet if the outcome is certain before we've even started."
Oleg lost his perpetual grin when he heard his refusal. "Oh, that won't do. I really want to see what you can do. Tell you what. If you're so sure I'll beat you in a standard design duel, let's use a different format! You're good at something, right? Something that gives you the confidence that you're a better mech designer than anyone else at our level. Let's use that as our score!"
His persistence made Ves uncomfortable, but his suggestion sounded a little more reasonable. Despite the risks, his long-dormant competitive streak flared in excitement.
Still, in order to compete, Ves had to show his strength. What was Ves good at?
He could think of nothing but the X-Factor.
He gazed at Oleg's eager expression and considered how to phrase his challenge. Something as ephemeral as the X-Factor couldn't be measured with any tool, which made it difficult to determine a winner.
"How about this?" Ves said as he figured something out. "Why don't we try to compete on comfort and personal preference? Let's leave aside competing on specs, because I'm certain whatever you are going to design on a whim will beat my work handedly. Instead, we'll design and fabricate a mech each and present it to a random mech pilot. We'll let him play around with them and tell him to decide which one he finds more comfortable. Sounds good?"
Of all the criteria Ves could possibly choose, he selected something Oleg had never seen coming. He blinked at Ves with his mouth agape. "Comfort? Do you mean ergonomics and stuff?"
"It's not only about a good seat. By comfort I mean that the overall piloting experience should be smooth and effortless. The mech pilot should enjoy the mech and mesh well with it regardless of its specs."
Oleg frowned a bit. "Huh. I never really thought about that. I've never heard of a mech design duel that competed specifically around comfort. It sounds kind of fun!"
Ves still showed a lot of reluctance to engage in the bet, so Oleg constantly raised the value of his offering until he offered one of his best designs.
"The Trailblazer will surely fit your needs for a cheap knight! This engine is more robust than anything a third-rate state will typically field, and I've really been sparing in the amount of exotics I incorporated in its core components. I've accomplished this by applying some of Carmin's special techniques. See here for example..."
As Oleg blabbed onwards while pointing at the schematic of his Trailblazer engine, Ves still hadn't made up his mind.
Losing Lucky would deal a heavy blow to Ves. He had been his constant companion since the start of his mech design career.
Yet Ves found it hard to ignore Oleg's offering. As a fairly recent design, the Trailblazer incorporated much of Oleg's recent insights and innovations. Master Olson's shadow loomed large in the schematic as well, so Ves already determined that the engine featured her characteristic endurance and longevity.
Engines with comparable performance featured a market price of around three billion bright credits for a standard ten-year license. As Ves continued to hold back his assent, Oleg even offered to waive the per-unit fabrication fee, which meant that Ves didn't have to cough up additional credits when he fabricated an engine.
"That's as far as I go. These licenses aren't much, but they're the crystallization of our master's teachings."
"Alright, Oleg. I'll take on your bet." Ves decided after letting out a deep breath. "But let's make sure it's fair by setting the ground rules. I don't want the outcome to be in question."
Leemar was Oleg's home ground, so Ves wanted to extract some assurances out of him. As Oleg worked with the machines in the Apprentice Workshop for years, he possessed an undeniable advantage in terms of fabrication. To make up for this disparity, Ves enjoyed two days of fabrication time compared to Oleg who only limited himself to a single day.
The boy appeared awfully confident despite his handicap, but Ves couldn't push his privileges too far.
"Where can we get some neutral mech pilots to judge our designs?" Ves asked.
"Oh, we can call Horatio and he'll take care of it. The LIT always borrows a couple of mech cadets from Abelard whenever we need a pilot to test out their toys."
Ves remembered that the mech pilots who participated in the Leemar Open Competition also came from Abelard Academy. He found that most of them were highly capable if a bit cocky and undisciplined. Some cadets even let their arrogance get ahead of them. Could they be honest and objective enough to prefer his design over Oleg's?
"Let's go with ten pilots. It won't take too long to let them take our mechs for a spin."
"Okay."
In the end, they came to an agreement on the format of the mech design duel. They would design a knight based on a random selection of old components equivalent to 3-star mechs in Iron Spirit.
Ves had 48 hours to design his knight and fabricate it with the machines in the workshop, while Oleg made do with 24 hours. In the meantime, Horatio already received their request to provide a number of cadets to Master Olson's estate so that they'd be able to test the finished products.
Horatio looked rather critically at Ves. "Are you certain you want to go through with this wager? Oleg is not a normal child. His talent in mech design is extremely frightening."
"With all the concessions he's already made, I don't have a reason to refuse anymore." Ves resolutely replied.
"Do take care, and don't come crying if you lose."
In truth, Ves still felt apprehensive about this duel. However, his pride as a mech designer urged him to confront the direct disciple's challenge head-on. He already stacked the deck in his favor.
When he considered the potential payoff, Ves became determined to succeed. He had to get his hands on Oleg's precious license. With the powerful trailblazer as a central component to his original design, his phoenix would truly be able to embody the persistence and longevity he laid out in his vision.
In addition, if he won the license, he'd be able to spend his credits on other goodies. The mech engine and power reactor component licenses always cost the most due to their fiendishly high complexity. A good engine could make or break a mech design.
If he could get that taken care of now, Ves could allocate more funds on procuring a decent power reactor license. The better his components, the likelier his original design attracted positive attention, though he also had to pull out their strengths in a splendid overarching design.
Throughout his musing, Lucky meowed indignantly at Ves.
"I'm sorry Lucky!" He apologized and picked up his cat and stroked his chin. "I know the bet is callous and all, but it's for a good cause. You don't expect me to lose, do you?"
Lucky hissed at Ves and forcibly jumped out of his embrace. Ves merely shrugged at the cat.
"Fine then! Just wait and see!"
Ves calmed his mind and tried to get into focus. They agreed to start the duel within minutes.
Oleg stood at the side and stretched his fingers, ready to employ his considerable talent and skill into designing a great knight mech.
In truth, Ves treated the mech design duel as a practice session for designing his original mech. Every duel forced the participants to form a complete design out of a handful of standalone components.
While the duel format made things easier by providing pre-designed limbs, torsos and heads, the concept essentially stayed the same. The mech designers had a lot of freedom to shape the form and content of their designs.
Want to design a three-legged mech? Sure! Want to design a ball-shaped mech that rolls around like a ball? Go ahead! A mech designer had the freedom to realize every possible idea no matter if it was good or bad.
In this regard, Ves admitted his inferiority to Oleg. He expected any knight's wonder design to be a high-quality machine despite spending half his time on its design and fabrication.
Even if they set their goal on designing and fabricating the most comfortable mech, strength provided its own way of comfort.
For example, any mech pilot would rather own a Caesar Augustus than a Marc Antony Mark II due to the former mech's superior armor system. The two designs differed so drastically in performance that his homemade Mark II simply couldn't close the gap with its trivial advantages.
That was the main reason why the Caesar Augustus still sold for around sixty million credits while the Mark II sold for half as much.
In order to sway the test pilots to his design, Ves not only had to excel in terms of shaping the X-Factor, he also couldn't fall too far behind in terms of fundamental design skills.
"A sparrow can still compete with an eagle, but an ant can forget about it." Ves muttered to himself. "I'm still an Apprentice Mech Designer."
No matter how much knowledge Master Olson stuffed into Oleg's head, he was still a teenager. The direct disciple only had so much time to devote to his studies. More importantly, he also cross-trained in engine design, which certainly stalled his progression in other areas.
Ves shook his head. Enough obsessing over the little freak. It was time he started coming up with a good design. He started focusing his mind on an appropriate set of myths. To maximize the power of the X-Factor, Ves decided to employ multiple powerful images.
The mere thought of how far he could push the X-Factor unleashed a sense of excitement within his bones.
Chapter: 205
Considering the transient nature of his design, Ves skipped the growth element of the X-Factor. In order to win over the test pilots as quickly as possible, he decided to focus on immediate impact.
By now, Ves developed a standard procedure of sorts when trying to shape the X-Factor. At his current level of concentration, he'd be able to work with a maximum of three images, all of which served a different purpose that would synergise with each other when they came together.
The first image defined and enhanced the role of the design. The second image centered around a powerful totem animal that introduced the right mix of primal instincts into the design. The third image should be based around the myth of a legendary human figure in order to strengthen his design's higher level cognition.
With this division of images, Ves established his first formal X-Factor technique. He called it the Triple Division for convenience.
The first image should be an idealized knight mech. To maximize the compatibility between his mech and the test pilots, Ves wanted to ground the experience with something familiar. By building up the foundation of his X-Factor on the knight mech itself, Ves ensured that no matter how many individual touches he applied, the test pilots would still feel at home.
Sometimes it might not be a good idea to put the archetype central to the design in question. Too much familiarity bred contempt, or at least made the design appear a little boring.
In order to balance out the familiar, Ves counterbalanced it with a strong and invigorating totem animal.
"Let's go with a hexapod king."
Though he'd never seen a hexapod king in the flesh, he intimately studied the Kaius, which was based on its carcass. The sheer power and terror of them both made for a profound image that had long been seared into his mind.
Choosing the hexapod king as the totem animal for his design shifted its emphasis from defense to offense. Though his design would very likely lack the endless power supply of the beasts, it would still be able to inherit much of its primal ferocity.
Choosing such a savage totem animal risked getting out of hand, so Ves decided to temper it with a more rational human legend. What kind of mythical figure could he conjure up that fit well with the design without being too excessive?
Ves went with the image of a mounted knight called the Leading Edge, or Sir Edge for short. He'd been born in the saddle and had been brought up to serve as a professional knight since he first showed his aptitude for riding.
As a consummate cavalryman, Sir Edge had mastered fighting in both a mounted and dismounted state. On foot, he could hold a shield wall as any other shield bearer, but he truly came to being when he sat on the saddle. He knew how to keep an overview of the battle and choose the right timing to go in for a thundering charge.
In the heat of the battle, he tossed almost every consideration aside and fought to his heart's content, bellowing war cries all around!
As Ves became increasingly immersed in the backstory of the Leading Edge, his competition hadn't sit still. Oleg already sprinted towards a design terminal and drew up a basic schematic based on what he thought would be a 'comfortable' knight.
As a young and talented Apprentice Mech Designer, Oleg developed his own approach to mech design. He possessed a much deeper foundation in the nuts and bolts of mech design, so he hardly needed to pause in the process of picking out components.
Unlike Ves, Oleg decided to stick with the classics and design a fully defensive knight. While his design still stuck to the medium weight class, Oleg pretty much jacked up its armor budget to the maximum possible amount.
"A knight can never have too much armor." He thought as he rapidly refined his rough schematic into something presentable.
He utilized the full functions of the advanced design software in his terminal. A separate projector constantly subjected the latest version of the design to a barrage of standard simulations, which the hidden super processors buried underneath the workshop churned out in rapid tempo.
With the help of these powerful functions, Oleg rapidly eliminated the weak points in his design. His optimization-based approach to designing his mech made full use of the abundant amount of processing power at his disposal. Without the corresponding amount of resources, Oleg's approach would never achieve results so quickly.
The only downside to this method was that Oleg exerted relatively little control over the direction of his simulations. It constantly spat out error-prone results that led him into dead-ends. This forced him to backtrack on his designs until he reached the point where he could take a different path.
His approach also let go of any attempts to adhere to a strong vision. Even Oleg didn't know what his design ultimately looked like. Some designers couldn't even imagine working without a definite goal in mind, but Oleg embraced the inherent uncertainty.
It didn't matter what the end product looked like. As long as its specs surpassed the previous version, Oleg was happy.
In contrast, Ves let his vision guide his design choices. Once he split his focus and dipped it into the Triple Division, his mind became filled with the righteous purpose of shaping it into reality.
"Let's see what I have to work with." He said and opened the catalog in his terminal's design suite. The parts listed in the catalog came in different sizes and shapes. Even a minor deviation had a lot of implications to his ultimate design.
Instead of making calculative choices based on specs, Ves took a step back and viewed the parts in a holistic manner. Each time he saw a part, he asked himself whether they conformed to the images buzzing in his mind.
Most of the time, the images buzzed in disapproval. Only a couple of times did they show their approval. He slowly ticked off the necessary components until he ended up with a full set of components.
At first glance, they didn't seem powerful. Ves ended up passing over the most powerful components in favor of those that harmonized well with his vision and each other. They all possessed an intrinsic underlying rule that Ves didn't fully understand.
"Why these parts?"
At first glance, the frame and limbs didn't fit with each other. The legs provided a lot of mobility when paired with a powerful engine, but were rather vulnerable to damage to the rear. The torso area on the other hand possessed a lot of bulk in order to accomodate a powerful engine and protect its internal components well.
Most notably, Ves picked an asymmetric set of arms. The shield arm was larger than the sword arm so that it could brace the heavy shield without breaking apart. Meanwhile, its sword arm might lack brute strength, but its added speed and flexibility opened up a lot of movements that conventional knights would never be able to pull off.
The combination didn't make sense at first glance, but Ves quickly figured out the rationale of this selection.
The strengthened legs optimized his mech's charge. Its weaknesses were largely mitigated as long as the mech constantly faced the enemy.
The heavy torso and shield arm allowed it to remain standing under fire or use its bulk in an offensive capacity by bashing through its opposition.
Its flexible sword arm gave his mech the opportunity to outduel a melee opponent. The relative lack of strength in the sword arm didn't matter because the mech always possessed the option of bashing with its shield if it needed a power attack.
Overall, the mech possessed a good mix of offense and defense as long as it could dictate the terms of the engagement. Its entire rear portion would always remain vulnerable, though many other medium knights suffered from the same problem.
Only heavy knights featured all-around protection as they had the armor to spare.
Ves proceeded to bring his selection of parts together. After he fitted them into a single frame like a crude puzzle, he proceeded to refine his design by utilizing some of the simulations in the design speed.
That was when he finally found out about the immense amount of processing power hidden beneath the terminal. His eyes practically popped out of his eye sockets as a set of simulations that would have taken weeks to complete at home only took three seconds in the Apprentice Workshop.
What Ves found even more bizarre was that the terminal stated that his simulations only used up a fraction of the total amount of processing power assigned to the Apprentice Workshop. Ves could not even imagine the amount of calculations Master Olson routinely performed to require such an extravagant setup.
"This is a lot more processing power than I need."
No matter how many resources Ves had at his disposal, they were borrowed goods. It would take a very long time until he earned the funds to upgrade his workshop to this level. For now, Ves stuck with his own method and proceeded to refine his design in his own way.
Different from Oleg, Ves already had an endpoint in mind, so he constantly tweaked the schematic in accordance with the desires of his images.
Each time he found an elegant solution that harmonized with the concept of his vision, his images bonded ever closer with the design. Ves felt as if the design and the images became more intertwined. Their existences even started to blur a bit as Ves brought his considerable amount of mental power to bear.
His highly intense state of mind even shook Oleg from his routine. The boy looked over at Ves and thought he saw a monster in human skin.
"Damn, have my eyes gone bad? I better take a break. I even missed dinnertime!"
As Oleg quietly left the workshop to fill his stomach and refresh his mind, Ves continued to work without any signs of fatigue. His highly enhanced body had surpassed the strength of his mind, which allowed Ves to skip the usual process of eating and sleeping for a brief period of days.
Against a prodigy like Oleg, Ves never even considered taking a long break. Every second of his forty-eight hour time limit was inordinately precious to him because it was the only way he could catch up to his fellow Apprentice Mech Designer.
"I'll spend thirty-two hours on the design process and leave out sixteen hours to fabricate my design."
Ves carved out quite a bit of time for the fabrication and assembly phase due to the complexity of the armor system. It possessed just the right mix of protection without taking up a lot of mass.
As a downside, the end product varied a lot, making it an unsuitable formula for mass production. It required a skilled mech designer or fabricator to manually produce each piece of plating one at a time.
"Let's not get ahead of myself. First, I have to finish my design."
He went back to work after refocusing his mind. The hours slowly passed until it became night. Leemar II used to adhere to a wildly different rotation cycle, but its extensive terraforming process stabilized it until it became identical to Old Earth.
Thus, the night came and went without notice, the workshop was situated underground. Even Oleg pulled an all-nighter, having taken some special medicine that allowed his mind to work at peak capacity for an extended amount of hours. He'd pay for it later, but until then he also made good use of his available time.
Oleg must have wanted to get his hands on Lucky really bad for him to work so hard.
The boy finalized his design in the morning, and moved over to the 3D printer and fabricated his first new parts. Despite his handicaps, Oleg maintained a confident smile on his face as he adeptly churned out part after part.
In the meantime, Ves still hadn't come close to finishing his design. While he made some progress with optimizing his schematic, he stumbled across a dilemma that forced him to a halt.
Chapter: 206
Ves brought him images into reality by visualizing their life cycle. The more details he added, the more vivid they behaved.
At some point, they started thinking on their own. His creativity ran out of control and filled in some of the gaps that Ves had unconsciously left behind.
For example, the knight mech yearned to increase its defense. Even as an offensive-oriented mech, it expressed its dissatisfaction with the current design's inadequate armor cover. Ves skimmed off a bit more of its armor plating than usual in order to keep the weight down.
The totem animal on the other hand didn't care so much about the armor. Instead, it yearned for a much more effective offensive kit. Hexapod kings proved their strength not by acting like a turtle, but by threatening its rivals with overwhelming might.
The human myth component of the Triple Division also grew more discordant. The Leading Edge's objection to the design mainly revolved around the staying power of the design. Ves chose to go for a high-impact operation mode in order to make the piloting experience as exhilarating as possible. However, choosing this road obviously used up more energy.
Compounding the problem was that the totem animal showed signs of overpowering the other two images. Ves had unconsciously inflated the hexapod king's tyrannical greed and cruelty to the point where the image almost became capable of contending against the other two images.
While making his images come to life had always been a goal to Ves, their unexpected conflict left him with a dilemma.
Should he stay detached and let them battle it out? Should he forcibly stop the struggle by separating the images? Or would it be best to maintain a tentative equilibrium by manipulating the images behind the scenes?
Ves began his design process with a vision. To allow his images to evolve in an unknown direction meant that he'd be abandoning his initial goals in favor of an uncertain outcome. The X-Factor would transform in a direction that might have a beneficial or detrimental effect to the design.
As much as he wanted to experiment with this new development, Ves decided to stifle it as best he could. His current circumstances didn't allow for too many unexpected surprises.
"It's fine if this happens when I design a virtual mech, but right now I can't risk ruining this design."
Ves proceeded to turn his substantial amount of mental power to bear on his images. Since he lacked the time to figure out a way to solve the problem with finesse, he utilized brute force instead.
He forcibly separated the images until clear barriers came into being between the three. This forced the integration of the images in the design to take a step back, but at least they didn't argue with each other anymore.
Next, he adjusted the traits of his totem animal in order to rein in its exaggerated behavior. He lessened the ferocity of the beast and granted it a small amount of cunning.
When Ves finished his adjustments, he took a mental step backwards and regarded his images again. He succeeded in stabilizing the images, though he failed to preserve their strengths.
In essence, his crude intervention solved nothing but prevented the situation from devolving into an unstable mess. Ves had in fact robbed his images of some of their life. This was especially the case with his totem animal.
He learned some very important lessons after this ordeal. Images that had been granted with life developed in an unpredictable direction, sometimes going against his intended vision.
"This is life."
True life embraced the limitless potential of chaos. Life was never comfortable if it behaved according to a predetermined plan. A life shackled down by too many rules and restrictions lost much of the vivid traits that made it precious.
Even though Ves applied the wrong solution, the overall X-Factor shouldn't have suffered too much from his previous norm. He simply missed a small opportunity to evolve his current application of the X-Factor.
"Now that this is done with, let's go back to designing."
While Ves spent precious minutes suppressing the unrest in his mind, Oleg started assembling his mech from the pieces he fabricated in record time. He easily slotted the components in their places, which proved that all of his components had come into existence without any noticeable deviations.
The amount of precision he was able to maintain when he swiftly printed out the parts would have astounded a crowd of mech designers. Hardly anyone could insure their components were without flaws if they adopted the same speed. While much of the miracle could be attributed to the excellent machines in the Apprentice Workshop, Oleg's comprehensive mastery over the fabrication process also played a decisive role.
Ves felt the pinch as Oleg comfortably moved to the last phase of his design process. He required a lot more time to refine his design due to his desire to adhere to his vision. Many times, his tweaks lowered the performance of his design, or introduced new flaws that only became apparent when Ves made further changes.
Normally, this happens all the time. Ves could easily draw back his changes and puzzle out a better solution over many iterations. However, Ves had already spent a day on this repetitive process. His snail-like progress could never match the efficiency of Oleg's own approach.
In the end, Ves stuck to his method and accepted that he'd never be able to optimize his design as well as Oleg. He focused mainly on eliminating the flaws that already existed in his design while leaving aside the many tricks he could use to enhance its performance.
At the end of his thirty-two hour design phase, Ves smiled in satisfaction. Regardless of the many optimizations that he had yet to perform, his design had come together in a way that all of his images found acceptable, if barely.
"It's time to move on to fabrication."
Most of his knight's components required little effort to produce. Ves left much of the heavy lifting to the incredibly capable 3D printer fabricating his parts.
Unlike Oleg, Ves took his time with the process, as he didn't possess much familiarity with these specific machines.
When the printer spat out all of the easier parts, Ves paid more attention to the next part. The fabrication process of the armor plating required his personal supervision and intervention if he wanted to finish it within his time limit.
By nature, exotic materials all possessed unstable structures. Given time, they broke apart and turned into mundane elements or disappeared into nothing.
This made them hard to work with. While automated production processes made a lot of strides in reducing the error rate, sometimes they spasmed when they faced an unanticipated situation.
The armor system selected by Ves incorporated a lot of different exotics. Some of them didn't react well when put together, so the difficulty of fabricating the armor plating without any flaws was extremely high.
Fortunately, Ves possessed enough skill to keep the problem in check. The extra time allotted to him for this duel proved to be a life saver for him as the lack of haste allowed him to maintain just enough control to prevent most flaws.
Even his relative unfamiliarity with the chemical treatment machine and the alloy compressor didn't stop him from making good time. The System demanded a lot of DP before Ves could master the alloy compressor, but the price had obviously been worth it as he never fumbled more than once when he came across something new.
With a couple more hours to go, Ves assembled his parts in rapid time. Ves considered this phase to be the easiest one as long as he fabricated his parts within tolerance. The facts proved his case, as Ves hardly encountered a hitch.
His knight design came into being as his time began to run out. Oleg had long completed his own design and observed Ves from a distance with a yawn. To him, the knight designed by Ves didn't seem all that special. He completely understood its components and their approximate performance in a single glance.
"What's the use of comfort in a mech?" He sneered. "A mech is not a cruise ship! Compared to absolute strength, no amount of luxury can compete."
Mech designers competed mainly on performance. The design with the better numbers always commanded a higher appreciation by the mech pilots who entrusted their lives to them. Oleg possessed absolute confidence that his hasty creation could beat the one being assembled by his fellow apprentice.
Once Ves finished checking over his mech, he breathed deeply and fell onto the floor. Even with his enhanced physical endurance, his mental strength couldn't quite keep up. Ves had strained focus these last few hours in order to keep his images as vivid and lifelike as possible.
All of that hard work paid off. In his formative sixth sense, Ves clearly sensed a powerful aura emanating from the frame. He largely succeeded in shaping his new creation's X-Factor into a powerful force that had become inextricably attached to the mech's existence.
While he hadn't pulled off something new this time, the newly-formed knight seemed to come alive in his eyes. The X-Factor gained more substance this time due to the sheer amount of mental energy Ves directed to its design and fabrication.
To put it in another way, while the quality of the X-Factor stayed the same, its quantity increased by at least three or four times. With this abundant strength, the X-Factor permeated even deeper into the frame. This in turn enhanced the connection between the mech and its pilot.
A clapping sound approached Ves from behind. "Splendid work, Ves! Your performance improved a lot since you took part in the Leemar Open Competition. You didn't let Carmin down. What's the name of your design?"
"The Tyrant." Ves replied simply. It fit with his overall vision for the design. He was too tired to think of anything better. "I could use some rest first. Where can I get some food?"
"Hah, we've got some of the best cooks on this planet! Let me bring you up to the dining room. I've already taken the liberty of preparing some dinner."
While some authorized workers shipped the Tyrant to the surface through a cargo elevator, Ves and Oleg took some time to relax. Neither of them mentioned their work or the highly anticipated test. Instead, they chatted about Oleg's career.
"To be honest, I'm not sure whether I want to follow Carmin back to the Vermeer Group." Oleg revealed as he munched on the barbecued ribs of a native animal. "I'm still a citizen of the Carnegie Group. The bigwigs at Leemar promised they'd keep their doors open if I decide to stay."
Master Olson had only recently ascended to her exalted rank. As a relatively junior Master Mech Designer, she still had a long way to go before she mastered every other major field of knowledge. Her exchange with the local masters would only last another couple of years before she felt she had nothing more to gain.
"Do you have a lot of family back home?"
"Oh yeah, but I hardly ever visit them these days. I'm grown-up now so it's a little awkward to face my parents. They're just average working folk, you know. Even if I send them a lot of cols, they don't know what to do with it. I won't be missing out on much if I go to the Vermeer Group."
"You should follow your heart. It's not like your parents and your friends are stuck in the Carnegie Group. You've got more than enough money to bring them with you."
Ves didn't dare urge Oleg more. To be frank, if Ves received the same offer, he'd still stick with the Bright Republic. His love for his home outweighed the possible benefits he'd enjoy if he relocated somewhere wealthier.
They finished their meals and agreed to take some time to rest. Oleg was still dealing with the repercussions of the stimulants he took at the start of the duel while Ves wanted to rest his wrung-out mind.
Maintaining the Triple Division technique for forty-eight hours while taking only minor breaks proved very stressful to him. Fortunately, the previous phenomenon where he'd suffer from increasingly crippling headaches hadn't occurred this time.
"Tomorrow, we'll see who's mech will win."
Chapter 207
On a large and extensive training field, two mechs stood like giant statues. For this event, Horatio took some time off his busy schedule to mediate the mech design duel in person.
Ves had already met Horatio in person, but he never presented himself to the man in person. Horatio appeared very dignified in front of the two apprentices. He cast a very long look at the both of them before turning his attention to their mechs.
"Both of you have set a very subjective winning condition to your duel." He spoke. "Ten young mech cadets from the Abelard Academy will be visiting us here today. After spending thirty minutes with each of your mechs, the cadets will deliver their verdict on which mech they prefer in terms of comfort. Do note that these pilots might have a different understanding of the term than yours."
"Will we be able to explain the meaning in greater detail?"
"That won't be necessary." Horatio said. "It's best not to predispose the mech pilots into favoring one design over the other through the use of wordplay. Let them experience the mechs with their own biases.
A shuttle arrived soon after and delivered ten random mech cadets. Some of them were elites who ranked close to the top, while others hadn't found a way to excel in the academy. The only thing they had in common was that all of them had taken advanced training in piloting knight mechs. They wouldn't be clueless when faced with the creations of Oleg and Ves.
Horatio left the two designers on a closed platform and greeted the cadets after they arrived. As he explained the rules to them, Ves took a seat on a nearby bench and watched the test pilots. He counted seven men and three women, not that gender mattered all that much.
Oleg grinned at Ves. "Now that we've finished our parts, let's share our design schematics!"
"Sure."
When Ves received Oleg's design, he took a long time to parse the blueprint. Oleg decided to form a quintessential defensive knight, piling up its armor while leaving barely enough mobility to qualify as a medium mech.
The concept sounded simple, but Oleg brought his design to an unprecedented level. He possessed transcendent skill in the field of battle mechatronics and mechanics, having taken the basic preconfigured parts and tweaked them in ways that optimized their endurance and defense.
To be frank, the extreme level of optimization scared Ves a bit. Oleg managed to raise the overall performance of his parts by a third through updating their outdated design and optimizing them so that they performed at their best. In comparison, Ves would be lucky if he reached an overall improvement of twenty percent due to lack of time.
That ten percent difference sounded small, but mech pilots and mech designers could easily tell the difference.
The mech cadets began to rotate among the two mechs. Each of the pilots spent thirty minutes on each mech. They tested the machines and put them through their paces on the training ground.
The yard even featured a sophisticated semi-virtual training simulator. Advanced programming and the clever use of bots and projectors allowed the knights to spar against imaginary opponents with some physical feedback. While it couldn't replicate a true battle experience, the pilots at least experienced a taste of their mechs in combat.
As the mechs moved through obstacles or light combat simulations, their differences became more pronounced.
His Tyrant moved rather nimbly for a knight mech. Its mobility allowed it to run around the obstacle course with greater speed and control than Oleg's lumbering machine. It excelled in frontal charges when it brought its considerable weight to bear upon a single opponent. Ves paid a lot of attention to its shock-absorbing capacity so that it wouldn't suffer too much damage when it collided against another mech.
White its armor couldn't quite deliver the same performance, none of the pilots paid too much attention to it. They weren't allowed to wreck the mechs they piloted. In essense, the Tyrant displayed all of its strengths while being able to hide its only major weakness.
Ves hadn't deliberately set out to achieve this condition, but it certainly helped his case.
Oleg's mech on the other hand moved with solid deliberation. While it possessed enough speed to sprint short distances, the mech hadn't received any optimizations in this area. Instead, it presented itself as a quintessential medium knight, with all of the pros and cons that went along with this archetype.
From the schematics Oleg showed off, Ves knew that his design lacked any gimmicks. The younger mech designer probably lacked the time to implement something unique that could wow the test pilots.
Instead, Oleg mainly stuck to the basics, deviating only when it came to his specialty. The engine in particular provided his knight with a lot of force and endurance. The mechanical layout of his knight incorporated many innovative design choices that enhanced the knight's ability to exert force.
"Your knight hits slow, but hard."
"A knight isn't supposed to outduel an opponent." Oleg replied with a smile. "You've made an interesting choice with your mech, but I don't know if it will help your case. Your own design isn't able to throw its weight around once it's forced to a stop."
The boy had a point. The Tyrant performed at its best when it kept moving, but sometimes it needed to stay put in order to perform its defensive role.
Time went by as the testing period dragged on. At the end of the session, all ten mech cadets spent at least an hour in the cockpits. Once they finished their testing, they passed on their evaluation to Horatio who subsequently tallied the score.
Ves and Oleg left the observation room and joined Horatio and the pilots standing next to their mechs. While Oleg maintained his confident, sunny smile, Ves nervously awaited the outcome.
Has the Tyrant made a good impression? Had the X-Factor succeeded in charming the mech cadets?
Many questions swirled in his mind as he stood somewhat at attention. Everyone eagerly awaited the results of the duel.
Horatio faced the mech designers with a nod. "Both of you have accomplished much in the limited amount of time at your disposal. I'm especially impressed with Oleg. Your ability to maintain the quality of your product despite the time limit shows you haven't slacked off in your practice."
"Thanks!"
The older man turned to Ves. "As for you, don't take your advantages to heart. Your master has invested a large amount of time and resources in his upbringing. We've been grooming him to compete at the most prestigious competitions this side of the galaxy such as the Rimward Games."
Ves remembered that Miss Barakovski once competed at the Junior Rimward Games. The Junior Games offered an appropriate stage for young but talented mech designers to display their strengths in front of the entire galactic rim.
That Horatio alluded to Oleg's future entry in the adult version of the Rimward Games meant that the boy held a lot of promise. Master Olson must be very eager to build up her organization's prestige by planning to show him off at such a major event.
"I understand." Ves nodded simply.
He didn't really wish to think too much about Oleg's current superiority. In a few years, his skills might have developed to the point where he'd be qualified to compete in the Rimward Games on his own merits.
Horatio proceeded to turn the conversation back to the duel. "At a glance, the two of you employed different strategies in order to win over the mech pilots. I've noticed that Ves has kept to the spirit of the due. You've focused more on harmony and compatibility when designing your mech, haven't you?"
"I want my pilots to bond with my mech. While achieving higher performance is important, if the pilot can't mesh well with his machine, he won't be able to bring out its full strength."
"That's a bold statement." Horatio responded neutrally. He carefully refrained from expressing his opinion on the matter. "Oleg doesn't seem to agree. I see you didn't even pay much attention to ergonomics when designing your mech. You focused purely on maximizing your mech's performance parameters."
"Who cares about comfy seats! A mech pilot ought to know what's best for him. Battles are usually won by the side with better performing mechs. That's the absolute truth."
"As you've alluded to, a mech is mainly built for war. When our mech cadets here graduate from Abelard, they'll be sent to fight at various parts of Coalition space. They're expected to endure extremely challenging circumstances while they pilot their mechs. If their mechs are not up to the task, they are piloting the wrong mechs."
Ves took those words as an oblique warning to his approach to mech design. Sometimes, his obsession with the X-Factor led to decisions that missed out on increasing the performance of his machines. What his images sometimes urged him to stray away from the most optimal design choices.
"I'm sure you're impatient to hear who has won." Horatio finally said as he finished his brief lecture. "Without further ado, here are the scores!"
A small projector sprung into existence that showed a short tally for each of the duelists. The final results astounded them both.
Ves: 5 votes
Oleg: 5 votes
"It's a.. Tie?"
When the mech designers swept past the tally and studied the breakdown of the votes, the division became more evident. The higher ranking mech cadets leaned on the side of Oleg's knight while the lower ranking cadets preferred the Tyrant.
Oleg didn't understand the result. "Why hasn't my mech won over the rest?"
"Can you make a guess?"
The younger mech designer paused to think through a reason. "Perhaps those who are more skilled don't require as much accomodation as those who need more practice. The best mech pilots can adapt to any machine in an instant."
"What do you think, Ves?"
"I think the higher ranking pilots know they're destined to pilot the best machines." He replied with his own understanding of the voting pattern. "Every mech pilot wishes to pilot the most elite mechs, but not everyone gets their wish. I think the more average mech pilots have a better affinity with lower performing machines that do their best at accommodating their level of skill."
Again, Horatio declined to express an opinion on both of their judgements. He simply acknowledged their answers and let them think about it by themselves.
"There are many reasons why this pattern has emerged. The best mechs are not always the most appropriate mechs for the situation. You must never forget that your role as a mech designer is to accommodate the mech pilots who you are serving. Understand your market and tailor your products to their wishes. Don't expect to succeed if you attempt to force feed your products to your clients."
That sounded great and all, but both of the duellists stood awkwardly as none of them were able to determine a winner for the duel.
"A tie doesn't reflect the truth! I should win the duel!" Oleg suddenly said.
Ves became alarmed at his insistence. While normally he'd be willing to concede to Oleg's admittedly justified excuse, Lucky's ownership was at stake this time.
Ves couldn't afford to lose!
"We agreed to the conditions of the bet beforehand. While we haven't anticipated a tie, that doesn't change the fact that you willingly agreed to all of them! The design duel wouldn't be fair otherwise!"
"That just proves I'm the better mech designer!"
The two couldn't come to an agreement, so they turned to Horatio, who looked on with some amusement.
"Do you really wish to move away from a tie and force a winner out of this duel?"
"I do! I should be the winner!"
While Oleg expressed his confidence, Ves stayed silent. The situation didn't look too favorable to him, but if he expressed his dissatisfaction, he'd reveal his lack of assurance. In a situation like this where a mech designer had to stand by their products, Ves had to maintain some level of confidence in his work.
"Very well. Then, I declare the winner to be Ves!"
"What?!" Oleg screamed. "That's not possible!"
Even Ves didn't expect Horatio's answer. Privately, he already started scheming a way to get Lucky back from Oleg's clutches. He never thought that Horatio thought higher of the Tyrant than Oleg's excellent design.
"Why did he win!?"
Chapter 208
Even Ves hadn't understood why Horatio favored him over Oleg. His design looked decent, but paled in comparison to Oleg's hasty creation. The younger mech designer managed to create a miracle in only half the time.
"I know you're confused. You shouldn't be." Horatio said and swept his arm towards the mech cadets who stood silently at attention all this time. "First, let's hear our test pilots out. What are your thoughts on the mech designed by Oleg?"
The pilots gave out a smattering of opinions.
"It's powerful. I can feel the difference in performance. Most of the training mechs don't feel as powerful as this frame."
"Slow but protective. I feel I can take on the entire galaxy with the amount of armor it carries."
"It corresponds to what a knight should be. I don't mind the lack of speed since it's supposed to be a defensive mech anyway."
"I can do anything with this machine! In the right hands, I can overpower anyone who dares to get close."
"I can't get used to its sluggishness. It's as if my body is moving under water. It's too slow."
When Horatio asked them what they thought of the design made by Ves, they gave out a distinctly different opinion.
"It feels like home. The mech just clicked for me."
"It's one of the few mechs I've piloted that actually worked together with me."
"The performance is a little lackluster compared to the other one, but when I'm in the cockpit I don't feel that way."
"It's very responsive. I don't have to fight against the controls to make it do what I want. There's hardly any learning curve with this mech."
After the pilots gave out their opinions, Horatio clapped and attracted everyone's attention. "You can see that the first thing that pops in the minds of the pilots differs drastically between the two mechs. Oleg, considering the terms of your mech design duel, do you truly believe you've overcome Ves in this regard?"
"I still have five votes." Oleg stubbornly replied. "Even if I hadn't focused much on comfort, does it even matter?"
"You've chosen a crooked path to compete on comfort. Whether it's important or not, the fact of the matter is that you've agreed to compete against Ves on the matter of designing the most comfortable mech. Ves is the only participant who worked earnestly on this area and the comments made by the test pilots makes this clear."
"The mech pilots haven't received a lot of clarity when they were asked to evaluate our mechs." Ves spoke up. "If they had a clearer idea on what they should be judging, then I might have received more votes."
"Maybe, maybe not." Horatio said. "Oleg's viewpoint can't be discounted. A superior mech will always be valued more than a lesser mech. However, the rules for this design duel explicitly leaves out any comparison on performance. In this regard, none of the mech cadets have praised Oleg's mech for its level of accomodation."
Oleg wowed half of the mech cadets through delivering a better mech despite performing worse in the aspect of comfort. He might have missed the point on the duel, but he still succeeded in forcing a tie. That couldn't easily be changed.
"Don't set your eyes on the present. Think of the future. After a couple of years, the both of you will be developing in different directions. If you hold the same duel at that time, who will prove to be more superior in the aspect of comfort?"
By that time, Ves would have probably accomplished a breakthrough in the X-Factor. In addition, he'd also advance much further than anyone here expected. After all, they couldn't have known about the heaven-defying nature of the System.
Still, if he hadn't advanced his other skills through the System, then Ves would still win on the matter of comfort. Only he possessed the requirements to work with the X-Factor.
"If you put it that way, you have a point." Oleg reluctantly admitted. "But that's in the future. We're still in the present."
"Yes, we're still in the present. Therefore, I believe that you should demonstrate your magnanimity and offer a concession to Ves. Don't forget that you are one of Carmin's direct disciples. With regards to age, you're junior to Ves, but with regards to seniority you enjoy a vastly higher position than him. To employ all your gifts to bully a junior who only received a few pointers from Carmin is not good form."
Even Ves forgot about this point. Oleg behaved like a teenager but as a mech designer he enjoyed a very privileged status. Many older mech designers had to make way for the direct disciple if they met him on the street.
"Besides, look at the stakes for this duel. If Ves loses the bet, he'll have to give up a precious companion of his. Don't think that Ves won't start to resent you. They are lifelike creatures meant to bond with their owners."
"On the other hand, if I lose the bet, I won't lose anything substantial. A license is very valuable to Ves, but it's nothing special to me."
Licenses only held value to those who lacked the capability that it offered. It cost Oleg nothing but a potential loss in earnings if he gave one away without demanding anything in return. That was because licenses only granted the mech designer who received it the right to use a design.
This was the nature of intellectual property. If someone wrote a virtual book, he could easily give it away to his friends for free. A couple of handouts didn't really impact his sales in any meaningful way. However, if he became a bit too liberal with his generosity, then he'd be shooting himself in the foot by missing out on a lot of sales.
Did Oleg look like someone who cared about giving away a free design? As a direct disciple, he enjoyed almost unlimited resources! A single engine license worth billions of bright credits was actually worth only a couple tens of millions of cols in Coalition space. For such a small amount of cols, Oleg would be too embarrassed to quibble about this sum of money.
In the end, Oleg conceded the match to Ves. Though he still felt unresigned, he felt that as a senior he had to show off his good side to Master Olson's latest apprentice. They both signed a couple of contracts on the spot that officially granted Ves the right to incorporate the Trailblazer engine model in any of his designs for a period of ten years.
"It's a really good engine." Oleg boasted as he swiftly recovered from his loss. "The Trailblazer is ideal for mechs focused on endurance and efficiency. Just take care not to push it too hard. It doesn't handle peak loads very well."
As Horatio left for another appointment, Ves had a suspicion he'd been used. Horatio obviously didn't need to mediate the design duel in person. He must have used the opportunity as a teaching moment for Oleg. He not only learned to be generous, he also opened his eyes to another perspective on mech design.
Ves shrugged. As the 'winner' of this duel, he benefited from this moment as well. Besides his material rewards, this event also taught him about a hidden danger inherent in his design method.
"Pursuing harmony at the cost of performance is not always the right solution." He concluded.
In the Age of Mechs, an endless number of mech designs came into existence. While the market for mechs ensured that plenty saw sales, most models failed to attract any sales due to poor design choices.
An optimized mech delivered much greater performance than a similar mech at the same cost.
"I've been focusing too much on harmony at the cost of synergy."
Harmony and synergy sounded the same, but they were actually very different concepts.
As Ves understood it, harmony represented how well the design and its components agreed with the images he held in his mind. A good harmony ensured he'd be able to impart a strong and life-like X-Factor to his mechs. Few designers should be able to match his prowess in this area.
On the other hand, most mech designers focused on maximizing synergy. This had nothing to do with metaphysics. Instead, it required both art and science to bring out the best performance out of every part.
"Harmony and synergy don't necessarily have to conflict with each other."
Once his capabilities grew, his selection of design choices should also grow with him. More choices allowed him to make more optimal decisions without adversely affecting the overall harmony of the design.
In any case, Ves got away with a massive win. After the end of the duel, Ves decided to wrap up his trip with a visit to the Clifford Society.
Oleg begged off accompanying Ves. Ever since Horatio declared him the loser, the air between them grew a little awkward. Both of them needed some time away from each other.
"I'll be going now." Ves said as he held Lucky in his arms and left the estate.
He took an air car that brought him from the center of the archipelago to the northern region of the planet. Like the virtual version, the real version of the Clifford Society's headquarters had been built on top of a mountain range.
Naturally, real humans weren't gods, so the Society hadn't gone overboard in spreading their structures out. Most of the core buildings had been built around a cluster of twenty mountains. Man-sized floating 'eggs' granted visitors a convenient way to traverse from one mountain to the other.
His first destination was the marketplace. While most members sold their wares through the Society's virtual portal, Ves wanted to take a look at some real examples. He visited the small town built at the foot of the mountains and browsed the largest shop that sold equipment.
"Welcome customer." A floating bot said as it hovered over to Ves. "May I be of assistance?"
"Take me to the alloy compressor and chemical treatment machines. I'd like to purchase a set."
A set basically consisted of a compressor and a CTM that had been designed to work together. Usually, mech manufacturers preferred to link the two machines together with a compatible 3D printer. This allowed them to automate the process of fabricating compressed armor plating as much as possible, though the more complicated formulas still required human supervision.
"Our shop offers thirty-two different sets. Please refer to the projections if you wish to view their specifications."
Ves took a good look at the selection offered by the shop. The prices for the sets ranged from fifty merits to ten thousand merits. He only set aside two-hundred merits for his budget, so he excluded every other set that exceeded his price range.
That left him with thirteen different pairings. As Ves studied their specs in greater detail, he determined that the differences in price directly correspond to what they brought to the table.
Some compressors and CTMs finished their processes faster than others. Other sets guaranteed higher precision. The newer sets offered automation to a wider range of formulas, while the older sets sold at a discount.
Ves pulled back from his inspection before he got lost in the maze.
"I should determine what I need before I start my selection."
The Living Mech Corporation mainly aimed for the higher segments of the mech market, so he didn't place too much importance on speed and automation.
However, if he wanted to enable his fabricators such as Carlos to work with compressed armor, some form of automation was necessary. The silver label mechs didn't have to be perfect, but the sets had to offer some conveniences in order to allow his other employees to work with the machines.
Several sets of alloy compressors and CTMs fit hit requirements. He eventually settled on a pair of systems that cost a hundred-and-ninety merits. They didn't offer much in terms of automation, but a decent fabricator specialized in alloy compression should be able to handle the process without problem.
"Even if Carlos can't do it, I can hire someone else who can."
Still, before he decided on the purchase, Ves visited some other stores in order to find out if he could pick a bargain.
While most of the shops offered a similar selection of machines, he did find the same set at twenty merits off.
"Why is this set so cheap here?"
"It's a refurbished set of machines." The cheaper store's not replied in a dutiful tone. "Their previous owner unfortunately perished on a mission for the Society. Due to his debts, this store has laid claim to his fabrication equipment. Do you wish to view the previous owner's other machines? We offer discounts up to thirty percent depending on their condition!"
The answer momentarily chilled Ves. He could have been one of the poor chumps as well. His trip to Groening might have showered him with merits, but he escaped from death by a narrow margin.
Still, the set hadn't seen much use. Ves checked their condition as well as their production logs and found them to be good enough that he wouldn't get much better if he bought them factory new.
"I'll take this set."
Chapter 209
Ves decided to pick up a second-hand assembly system as well for the low price of twenty merits. Thus, he spent a total of a hundred-and-ninety merits on three machines that had seen a moderate amount of use.
He also enlisted the services of a hacker who could unlock the restrictions set on the processors for the Dortmund printer. After some haggling, Ves agreed to hand over three merits to the bot that represented the hacker. Ves handed over the processor chips that had been stored in the Barracuda over the past few months and heard that they'd be ready within a few days.
"Every problem appears trivial once you have a lot of wealth." He noted with a rueful smile as he exited the latest store. "Problems that keep me up at night can be solved with a single snap of the finger."
His shopping spree showcased the power of a few hundred merits. He successfully acquired a number of high-quality machines that delivered slightly better performance than most machines available in the Bright Republic.
"Together with the Dortmund, I've acquired a full ensemble of industrial gear."
What did that mean? It meant that from now on, his physical assets ceased to be a hindrance. If he wanted to, he could even fabricate the original Caesar Augustus with his newly purchased equipment.
Now, he had over two-hundred merits remaining in his account. While that sounded a lot, he also had to acquire a lot of component licenses. While some of the smaller components sold for only a couple of merits, the large amount of components added up to a frightening sum. Ves obviously had to set priorities.
"The three things I need the most to design a high quality knight is an armor system, a power reactor and artificial musculature. Together with Oleg's engine license, I'll have all my bases covered."
If he had any merits left after making those purchases, he'd settle on acquiring some decent licenses for some peripheral components such as ECM, energy cells and a cockpit.
As for the really minor parts such as gyroscopes, sensors and a transceiver, he'd settle for acquiring cheaper ones with credits. Hopefully he'd be able to save as many merits as possible in case he wanted to borrow some exclusive books from the Moon Library.
Ves found his shopping experience to be exhilarating. While the pricier products remained out of his reach, the product standard in Leemar ensured that even the cheaper offerings in the store could compete with what the Bright Republic regularly used.
The only problem he faced was that a lot of the parts for licensing required a large amount of exotics to work. Ves couldn't help the fact that the Friday Coalition ruled over the most resource-abundant territory in the Komodo StarSector. Resources that were extremely scarce in the Bright Republic could be acquired for a reasonable sum in the Coalition.
In fact, many of the cheapest licenses consisted of badly optimized components. They only reached a reasonable level of performance by virtue of their extravagant use of resources.
Thus, even with an upfront price tag of a dozen merits or so, Ves would still lose a fortune over time as the production cost per unit racked up to a terrifying digit.
Thus, Ves had to ignore most of the deceptively cheap offerings and turn his attention to the more expensive licenses offered by the real experts.
This was where the strength of the LIT came through. As a major technological center for education and research, the Leemar Institute of Technology possessed connections to a vast network of scientists and engineers. Many of its alumni that went on to become successful component developers made some of their best licenses available to their alma mater at preferential prices.
Despite the discounts, the prices for the more decent-looking armor systems quickly ran up in the thousands. The prices were so disgustingly high that it became obvious that they only catered to a breed of mech designers.
The products within a more affordable price range all came with various issues such as the problem mentioned earlier. It became very difficult for Ves to seek out a decent armor system that didn't break the bank.
"I can't go on like this. I have to give something up."
Some armor systems could be licensed on the cheap, but racked up many millions of credits in production costs.
Other systems offered reasonable prices in both areas but delivered mediocre performance.
Those that performed slightly better were so difficult to fabricate that his error rate would balloon to twenty-five percent.
Obtaining a perfect armor system that checked all the boxes was out of the question. Ves had to make a careful consideration on what he'd be willing to sacrifice.
"I'll be marketing my product to the Bright Republic, not to Friday Coalition, so I don't have to adhere to the prevailing standard of a second-rate state."
It pained him to lower his standard, but Ves concluded he made the right decision. As a young entrant in the mech business, Ves hadn't built up his brand to the point where the local market believed he'd be able to participate at the top segments of the market. A design that's too high-end would end up as another white elephant akin to the original Caesar Augustus.
The catalog looked a lot better now that he let go of his unrealistic standards. In order to future-proof his designs once the next generation arrived, Ves focused his attention on armor plating that withstood directed energy weapons a little better than usual.
Apparently, many other mech designers had the same idea. The prices for these valuable systems averaged around twenty percent over armors that specialized against absorbing shocks and kinetic impacts.
Against this scam-like market behavior, Ves could only grit his teeth in response.
The list of products that met his criteria still consisted of several hundred products. Ves spent an entire day pouring over the specs of each viable armor system. His decision had far-reaching effects for the immediate future of his mech career, so it was of utmost importance for him to make the best decision possible.
He settled for a rather boring choice. He chose a decently successful armor system that had been developed a decade or so ago. Though it was on the old side, plenty of mech designers who purchased the same system had nothing but praise for the armor.
"Thank you for purchasing the Burgens and Sons Co. Keltrex Avi E-33 armor system!" The cheerful sales bot exclaimed in a weirdly feminine tone. "A sales representative will be with you in a moment to establish a licensing contract! Please be patient!"
A few minutes later, a man emerged from the air. His antigrav clothes brought him straight to Ves. After shaking hands, the sales representative offered him three different variations of the licensing contract. The variations gave Ves more favorable terms depending on his production pattern.
If he intended to engage in high-volume production, it was worth it to spend some extra merits to lower his per-unit fees.
On the other hand, if he only intended to sell a dozen or so mechs a year, then he could take a discounted contract that put hard limits on how many times he could fabricate the Keltrex.
While Ves didn't plan on establishing a huge production plant, he did aim to achieve a sales figure of at least a thousand mechs a year. With his new and refurbished equipment, his workshop should be able to reach this ambitious goal.
"I'd like to sign the standard contract, please. I don't want any restrictions and I don't need any additional privileges."
"A good choice, Mr. Larkinson. The upfront fee for the standard contract amounts to seventy-five merits."
Ves transferred the painfully high price tag with his comm. This was only the beginning. Since they signed a contract in Coalition space, Ves had to transfer his production fees in cols instead of bright credits. The cost per copy amounted to 30,000 cols or around 3 million bright credits.
He winced at the thought of throwing away so many credits whenever he fabricated a copy of the Keltrex system. The much cheaper HRF armor system that he currently used for the Mark II only demanded a modest fee of around 100,000 bright credits per copy.
Still, he didn't regret his choice. Among the cheaper armors available in the shops, the Keltrex system happened to require exotics that were relatively abundant in the Bright Republic. Ves didn't have to import rare resources from far-flung states in order to meet his production needs.
In this regard, the higher-than-average per-unit fee was a worthwhile sacrifice to make.
"I still have to pay a fortune for the raw materials alone. It gets worse if I have to fabricate a set of armor for a knight."
Knights piled up on a lot of armor, more than any other archetype. Ves already calculated that he had to spend a whopping twenty million credits just to fabricate a standard set of knight armor. Worse, the cost might reach even greater heights if the cost of raw materials continued to rise.
Since Ves set a target sales price at around 60 million credits for his original design, the ludicrous expense was still somewhat bearable.
Fortunately, the Keltrex system brought a lot to the table. Burgens and Sons Co. developed several variations of its Keltrex series. While the Keltrex Avi E-33 was one of its cheapest offerings, it still enjoyed some of the advantages of its more expensive cousins.
The biggest attraction to Ves was that it didn't weigh too much. While other systems relied on large amounts of conventional alloys to make up for their disappointing formulas, the Keltrex used an ingenious formula that brought out the full strength of their special alloys.
"It's not only great for knights. I can use the same armor system for other types of medium mechs."
Its versatility allowed Ves to use the same production license in multiple different designs. This allowed him to save a lot of money in the long run.
The same went for Oleg's Trailblazer engine, though it shoehorned Ves into designing mechs that fit its traits.
Ves shopped for other component licenses with the same thought in mind. With thirty-five merits remaining in his budget, he quickly acquired a relatively boring set of component licenses for the ECM, energy cells and cockpit.
With his most important purchase behind him, Ves relaxed and took his time browsing for a decent power reactor and artificial musculature license. After another day of contemplation, he handed over thirty-five merits for a satisfactory pair of component licenses.
While their specs fell a little short of the Trailblazer engine, the one area they excelled in was endurance. They'd be able to withstand a decent amount of damage and keep running.
"I only have a hundred merits left."
He considered spending them on other component licenses, but eventually stuck to his original decision of holding back a reserve. "If I can't acquire the rest with credits, I can still spend my merits later."
At this stage, Ves hadn't even drafted up a preliminary sketch of his original design. If he purchased a complete set of component licenses before he even drew up a draft design, he'd be liable to shoot himself in the foot.
"What I have now is enough."
Ves acquired the most essential components to start his draft. With the Trailblazer engine and Keltrex armor system at the core, he acquired all the essential ingredients to bake a great cake. It was up to a great cook to process these ingredients and incorporate them into a well-designed dish to bring out all of their qualities.
Now that he completed his shopping, it was time to return to Cloudy Curtain. Ves held Lucky in his arms and hailed an air car that brought him back to the Barracuda.
Chapter 210
The Barracuda slipped into FTL in a blink.
Having left the Leemar System, Ves felt as if he left paradise for the wasteland. He became enchanted by Leemar's high level of development. The products that second-rate states like the Friday Coalition took for granted could hardly be found in the poorer states.
It wasn't as if the Bright Republic had no means of getting access to high technology. However, the higher tiers incorporated a lot of exotics or exclusive research that made them too expensive for the poorer states to adopt at a wide scale. Only the upper echelon enjoyed a couple of gadgets at a ruinous cost.
The distribution of wealth in the galaxy came down to resource endowment. Even if the poorer states acquired a couple of pieces of high technology, they'd be bankrupting themselves in the long run if they went overboard.
Even if Ves acquired some fantastic component licenses from Leemar, he'd be pricing himself out of the market due to the ridiculous cost of his products.
That didn't mean that Ves had resigned himself to this remote corner of the galaxy. In his burning ambition to reach the pinnacle of mech design, he intended to use the Bright Republic's market as an incubation ground for his nascent business.
"At my current level, I won't be able to make a splash in the Coalition."
Too many geniuses like Oleg already occupy the entire market for innovative mechs designed by newcomers in the industry. In addition, Ves also had to contend with his rivals who emigrated from the surrounding third-rate states in order to seek out a better future.
To someone like Ves who possessed no innate advantages but a very high growth rate, the Republic's mech market provided him with enough demand to meet his needs.
For now, Ves had some free time in his hands as it took his corvette several weeks to return to Cloudy Curtain.
"What shall I do?"
He could study some textbooks in order to broaden his perspective, or he could design a virtual mech so that he earned some much-needed DP. Currently, Ves hasn't checked in with the virtual economy for a while, so he turned on his terminal and checked his Iron Spirit account.
Surprisingly, in the past few months, his mech sales experienced a continuing surge of sales. While the market in Cloudy Curtain had pretty much been tapped out, his two principal models started gaining a tiny amount of traction on Bentheim.
"It's not only the Young Blood and the Old Soul that are doing well. Even the Mark Antony Mark II has sold over a thousand times."
That explained much of the growth in DP during his time on Groening IV. Without this persistent trend of sales, he would never have been able to spend so much DP on acquiring the essential skills and gadgets to get out of Doctor Jutland's clutches.
Ves poured into the comments that his Bentheim customers left behind. He found out that nothing in particular had been driving his sales except for his budding reputation for selling mechs that did well with fussy mech pilots.
"This one feels like a cold beer on a warm evening! Thumbs up for this mech!"
"I have a neural condition that makes me allergic to almost every kind of mech. My brain just spasms out if I force myself to pilot them! I thought I had to abandon my hobby of piloting mechs, but thankfully I found out about this AMAZING model! Please design more mechs!"
"I bought the famous Mark II. It's everything my buddies promised. There are no words to describe how deep your mind can meld with this model. Don't pilot this mech if you want to compete. Buy it when you want to relax."
Ves found a common strain among the comments. In the virtual community of Bentheim, he started making a name for himself as a niche designer who specialized in so-called 'recreational' mechs.
He didn't feel flattered. As a serious mech designer, Ves aimed to build up a reputation for designing battlefield-viable mechs. If he started acquiring a reputation that his mechs were no good except for a couple of rounds of fun, then he'd face an uphill battle trying to persuade the market to purchase his mechs for their primary purpose. That is, to deploy them in battle.
Fortunately, the phenomenon hadn't reached the point of no return. To the larger community, Ves and the Living Mech Corporation remained largely unknown.
He'd be able to shape his reputation once he released his first original design. That day came closer and closer now that he fulfilled most of the prerequisites for doing so. The road ahead had been paved. All he had to do was step forward.
"It's still not time."
His intuition told him that he had to wait before he embarked on this ambitious project.
Somehow, he lacked something vital that could elevate his original design into something great. He didn't know what he missed. Could it be an obscure skill, or a unique component?
In any case, if he designed his original mech at his current state, he'd be introducing an average and unremarkable design in an already bloated mech market. The LMC might not even be able to meet his current goal of achieving at least a thousand sales a year if he published a boring design.
He shook his head and turned his attention back to designing a virtual mech. Despite his worries, the galaxy still moved on. "Earning more DP is never wrong."
Ves wanted to break the mold this time by designing something very different. In truth, he began resenting the act of designing variants.
It was as if he took an existing piece of art and fiddled around with its appearance. Even if he improved upon the original work, most people would think he borrowed from someone else's efforts.
There was actually an element of truth in that statement. Modifying an existing mech skipped several vital processes in the art of mech design. Many mech designers tend to rely too much on these crutches and slowly become unable to transition to designing an original mech.
"That said, I'm still not ready to design an original mech myself."
As long as he kept this problem in mind, he wouldn't fall into this trap.
Before he embarked on designing a mech, Ves studied the market trend in the game for inspiration.
This time he decided on designing a 4-star variant. Different from the lower starred virtual mechs, the 4-star designs usually catered to a more mature audience in the Gold League. They consisted of senior potentates who decided not to pursue a career in mech piloting and young adults who started their advanced training at an academy like Abelard.
"If I want to correct my reputation, then it's better to aim for the young professionals rather than the leisurely elderly."
Most of the older potentates who got stuck in the Gold League only played the game in order to meet the minimum proficiency standard to qualify as a reserve pilot. Those with the potential to pilot had the obligation to keep their skills somewhat sharp. Those who acted lazy started to lose their much-cherished privileges.
Ves knew the crowd. They were the old geezers and has-been pretenders who cared more about getting their hand-outs from the state than actually contributing something to society. They usually ended up squealing when the war erupted and progressed to a frightening degree. That was when the Mech Corps came knocking at their doors.
Rather than aim for that group of leeches, Ves would rather design a mech for the likes of the young pilots he knew. "Like Charlotte, or Lovejoy, or even Melkor."
He wondered how they were doing these days. Charlotte must be having a great time at the Republic's branch of the MTA, while Lovejoy still underwent rigorous training in order to make the breakthrough from advanced pilot to expert pilot.
"If I want to design a mech that calls out to advanced pilots like them, I'll have to design something challenging."
Ves excluded the basic archetypes such as the knight and rifleman mechs from his consideration. He wanted something with a lot more nuance, though it also had to fall within his skill range.
Each increase in stars came with a lot of added complexity. For example, Ves easily designed a flying light mech like the 1-star Seraphim due to that era's primitive technology standard. Such a slapdash attitude to mech design couldn't be applied so easily with several hundred years of progress in the picture.
After leaving aside the more exotic categories such as aerial mechs or heavy mechs, Ves began to consider his remaining options.
"A striker mech is too similar to knights, while skirmishers and ambushers are a bit too similar to my previous virtual designs."
He started to consider some of the less commonly produced designs such as medium scouts or medium artillery mechs.
"Hmm. What about an assassin mech?"
It sounded like an interesting challenge. As ridiculous as it sounded, assassin mechs actually existed in recent times. They saw a lot of use in the first-rate superstates as a way to take out highly valuable cutting-edge mechs before they showed their strengths.
While active cloaking technology had slowly diffused from the first-rate states to the rest of the galaxy, it remained fairly expensive, so the rim rarely used these types of mechs.
Fortunately, the game made everything more convenient. While Ves would probably have to pay a higher price to get access to the right virtual licenses, he'd still be able to play around with cloaking technology.
Ves browsed the catalogs of the game and saw that assassin mechs could be divided into several ways. Light assassins usually excelled in stealth while their medium cousins packed more punch. Some assassins came equipped with powerful ranged weapons while others relied on a good melee weapon.
Naturally, this was just a general trend. Plenty of exceptions still existed.
Considering his specialties and his interests, he narrowed down his choice to a medium melee mech. It presented more of a challenge and benefited him more. The act of exploring a way to maximize the assassin mech's ability to deliver a fatal blow in a single strike would advance his understanding of Master Olson's teachings.
He didn't spend too much time on selecting a good base model. Due to the pricey nature of the technology, the virtual licenses of the cheapest models started selling at a staggering price of 2 million bright credits!
Still, Ves had money to spare, with well over six-hundred million credits in the bank. The higher investment would also pay off, for the Mech Designer System capped the limit of his DP earnings for 4-star mechs at a much higher bar.
"If I can succeed in designing this variant, I'll be able to earn up to 100,000 DP in total from its virtual sales."
What did 100,000 DP represent? It was one of the most difficult prerequisites to upgrade one of his Journeyman-level Skills to Senior-level. While Ves didn't plan on upgrading any of his skills just yet, he could surely use the DP on other goodies, such as upgrading his mental attributes or acquiring the next tier of stealth augments from the Shop.
After a couple of hours of casual browsing, Ves settled for a fast and silent model from some obscure company called Carrera Designs.
Rather than a traditional mech business, Carrera Designs made their living by selling their designs instead of mechs. These design studios pumped out hundreds of designs a year. Most of them ended up forgotten in some shelf, but savvy mech manufacturers snapped up some of their more successful designs for quite a bit of money.
The DarkSilver FFL-25 happened to be one of their unsold designs. One of the mech designers under the employ of Carrera Designs had been tasked with exploring the relatively new phenomenon of active cloaking.
As its code number suggested, the FFL-25 represented the twenty-fifth iteration of their exploration. Due to the poor track record of the previous versions of the DarkSilver line, Carrera Designs never managed to sell the FFL-25 despite its high level refinement.
Unknowingly, they slept on a hidden treasure. It only came into prominence several generations later.
It possessed a short-lived but highly effective cloaking system for a medium mech. For about three minutes, they remained undetectable to the most commonly employed sensors that measured light, sound and various other kinds of signals.
As long as the unsuspecting targets weren't actively scanning for cloaked mechs, the DarkSilver model had a high chance of sneaking up to their backs.
In comparison to its excellent but quirky stealth system, the FFL-25 happened to be slightly lackluster in making the kill. Its extreme devotion to stealth left little room for actual combat capability. The model had a lot of trouble trying to pierce through thick sections of armor.
It also possessed paperthin armor that solely existed to enhance its stealth. Actual protection from enemy attacks remained a distant second priority.
Many mech designers today used the excellent base provided by the DarkSilver design and worked to mitigate its flaws. Overall, they achieved mixed success as the base model truly left little room for enhancements. If they went too far, its supreme stealth system started to suffer.
"It's an interesting puzzle. I like it."
Ves forked over the two million credit fee for the virtual license. He already looked forward to putting his own spin on this design.
Chapter 211
Ves didn't feel like spending additional credits on additional virtual component licenses. One of the problems of the DarkSilver design was that it allocated the majority of its space on enhancing its active stealth systems. It contained precious little space for any other systems.
Most of the variants he'd seen took the FFL-25 and added alternate loadouts. Instead of a piddly little knife, the other mech designers mostly provided their variants with limited-use weapons that delivered a large amount of damage in an instant such as bombs or acid containers.
To be frank, Ves considered employing the same means, but he held off because he wouldn't add anything new to the game.
In addition, the solution seemed like a cheap cop-out that turned its back on the original intent of the DarkSilver line. The players who buy the variants mostly use them to sabotage the enemy base and supply depots instead of assassinating enemy mechs.
"Why are there so few variants that retain the DarkSilver's original purpose?"
A handful of ambitious mech designers tried their hands at 'fixing' the FFL-25. Their attempts either enhanced the base model's strength while sacrificing its stealth capability, or they preserved its stealth but made only marginal improvements in its strength.
Obviously, all of the mech designers who worked with the frame failed to find the silver bullet that circumvented the base model's limited capacity. The oldest 4-star designs originally came out about a hundred years ago, which severely limited today's designers from introducing modern innovations.
The most successful variants therefore eschewed the stock design and rebuilt it from the ground-up. They used the same components and the same materials but rearranged them into a completely different package that delivered substantially higher performance in some areas.
Not a lot of these redesigns existed as it required a lot of work for very little payoff, since assassin mechs never sold as much as mainstream mechs. However, this in turn gave Ves an opening for him to introduce something others hadn't done before.
"It's a lot like designing an original mech in a sense."
Letting go of the boundaries of the base model freed Ves from its restrictions but also gave him room to stumble. Nevertheless, Ves didn't shy away from the challenge.
First he had to set a vision for his variant. In his eyes, an assassin mech didn't require protective armor. It avoided damage by virtue of its stealth systems and its speed. The base model mostly emphasized the former and paid only lip service to the latter.
"Let's focus on speed and momentum."
The conventional assassin mech sneaked up on their targets at an opportune moment and landed a lethal blow. Once they finished the deed, they popped their chaff and snuck away during the confusion.
"Just like the Old Soul in a sense."
His 2-star sniper mech became known for its devastating ambushes and slippery escapes. This proved that the strategy worked, but Ves didn't wish to retread the same old path.
Instead, he envisioned an assassin mech that used its cloak not to get into point-blank range, but to position itself for a short but devastating charge.
The beauty of this modus operandi was that Ves only had to ensure that his design possessed enough speed and acceleration. The arms and torso didn't need any special attention. As long as they held up at the point of impact, his assassin mech should be fine.
In essence, his variant relied on its running start to build up enough momentum to punch through an unsuspecting mech's armor. A weapon that enabled the mech to transfer its force into a single point worked best in these circumstances, so Ves immediately decided on pairing his design with a spear.
"The only problem is that the mech can't maintain its stealth while running."
Faster movement came with more vibrations and more disturbances in the air. It became vastly more difficult for its active stealth systems to suppress the deluge of signals.
Ves had no solution to this problem, but it shouldn't matter too much. In his imagination, he envisioned his assassin mech using its cloak to sneak in close to its target, but not too close to get detected by its passive sensors. These usually became more effective the closer anyone tried to sneak up on their backs.
Instead, his assassin mech stayed just out of detection radius and readied itself for a charge. At the decisive moment, it rushed forward and closed the distance within seconds before ramming its spear into the vulnerable back of its target. After delivering its blow, the assassin mech ran away at full speed.
"It's going to be risky for the mech to survive without any form of chaff." He judged.
The escape should be the most difficult phase of the assassination process. While he could fit a small chaff module onto his variant, it would likely affect the effectiveness of its stealth. Thus, he decided to leave it out of the picture and focus solely on stealth and speed.
Now that he established a clear vision for his design, he began to construct a set of images for this Triple Division technique.
First, he set the base role as an idealized version of his assassin mech. Ves simply added in his vision for his design and imaged more scenarios on how it should be used.
The most important job for the base role image was to enhance the compatibility between the X-Factor and the actual mech. It didn't need to be too strong or remarkable, but it couldn't be inaccurate.
Ves in fact possessed average creativity, but it should be sufficient to paint a detailed enough picture. It helped that his assassin mech possessed a one-dimensional playstyle. It revolved solely around the mech's ability to set up for a charge and escape when the deed was done. As long as it achieved perfection on this part, his design didn't need any added frills.
Next, he moved on to the totem animal for his assassin mech. He wanted to pick out a predator that perfectly encapsulated his design's ability to pounce at a target and get away quickly. Ves tried to come up with a standard Terran animal that fit its nature well.
"Let's go for a cheetah."
These large cats were favored predators that had often been genetically modified for various purposes. Their extremely fast sprinting velocity endeared them to various customers that liked to take advantage of this trait to hunt for difficult prey.
After browsing the galactic net, Ves found that the standard wild cheetahs exhibited different behavior in different situations. However, whenever it had to hunt alone, it employed a hunting strategy much like his assassin mech. Instead of stealth, it used various kinds of cover and concealment such as hills or tall grass to obscure its approach.
Ves liked the imagery the animal evoked, so he centered his totem animal around a solitary cheetah. With plenty of footage on the galactic net, Ves had no trouble constructing a vivid image of the cheetah at hunt.
Once he moved on to the final portion of the Triple Division technique, Ves had to be more thoughtful. The human myth portion of the technique required a lot of backstory in order to provide a lifelike human touch to the X-Factor.
He didn't pull off anything too fancy this time. He made up an assassin called the Last Spear, as he used to be a guard for a fallen royal household. The fall of the king as well as his relatives has forced the Last Spear into the life of a fugitive without status.
The man fell into a bad crowd, and eventually made it to an assassin's guild that taught him all the tricks of the trade. Ever since he completed his training, he began to wage a one-man reign of terror against his former enemies who took over his homeland.
The Last Spear stuck to the weapon of his choice. He wanted to let his targets recognize his spear as it plunged through their chests and their life faded away.
To him, it wasn't about the money. It was personal. He swore fealty to the fallen royals and dedicated his life to defend their honor even in death.
Others might think him crazy, but the Last Spear found his true calling in life once he started harvesting the lives of those who profited from the conquest. He made it his solemn mission to track down every bastard that contributed to the fall of the royals and stab his spear into hearts without fail.
"Well, this is intense." Ves shook his head.
His imagination got ahead of itself and conjured up a depressing image, one filled with both duty and pointless obsession. The Last Spear's futile crusade against his enemies served no point except to torment his old enemies for a cause that no longer existed.
Well, the specifics of the backstory didn't matter too much in comparison to his character's skills and mindset. As long as he could capture some of that quintessential expertise in his image, his X-Factor became substantially more helpful.
This was especially important in this case as Ves wished to emphasize the rational side over the primal side of the X-Factor. A large emphasis on the latter in his previous designs should be the main reason why his designs gained a reputation for being recreational.
"Besides, assassin mechs are extremely difficult to pilot. My customers will need all the help they can get."
Most mech pilots hadn't received any special training on how to pilot an assassin mech. Some accomodation in this area should be very helpful with easing his model's substantial learning curve.
With the three elements of his Triple Division technique set in place, Ves employed the full force of his mind and superimposed them into a single gestalt. With this hazy half-marged product in his mind, he got into a trance and started his redesign project.
First, he scrapped the base frame, stripping away everything except for its barest support structures. When he was left with nothing but an alloy skeleton, he tweaked some of its bones in order to enhance its mobility.
Then, he started adding in the organs. All of the essential components such as the engine and the power reactor filled up the internals. Different from standard mechs, the DarkSilver line employed a large suite of active ECM and stealth systems that all took up a lot of space. All of these gadgets demanded a lot of space.
Ves crammed in as much as he could while building up his mech's internal architecture at the same. His experience with the Mark II turned him into a veteran in this kind of work, so defty skirted past the knots that popped up every once in a while.
Every savings he made in space or weight, he allocated it towards enhancing his mech's mobility.
He paid relatively little attention to flexibility and agility and merely piled up on its ability to accelerate in a straight line. His assassin mech should be able to pounce upon its target with as little lead time as possible. Thus, acceleration mattered more than top speed.
"It still needs to be fairly fast in order to escape pursuit. It should at least run away far enough to re-engage its stealth."
While his design slowly came into fruition, the Triple Division technique started to fluctuate within his mind. Just like with the Tyrant he designed in his duel with Oleg, the three images started to chafe against each other once they started to show more signs of life.
Different from last time, his images didn't fundamentally conflict with each other. While Ves hadn't done so on purpose, all three elements possessed very few contradictions.
Instead, they jostled around for dominance. None of his images wanted to share responsibilities. All of them wished to dominate the gestalt and turn the others into its slaves.
The conflict became increasingly more heated as Ves did nothing to discourage the fighting. In fact, he'd been aiming for something of the sort from the start. This time, he wished to see what happened when the fighting had stopped.
Chapter 212
Ever since his mind underwent some inexplicable changes, his influence on the X-Factor deepened. In particular, anything he imagined into existence took on a life of its own.
What did this mean?
It meant that his images took back their sovereignty! Their history, behavior, attitudes and aspirations developed on their own without conscious input from Ves. He might have created them in his mind, but their transformation into an insubstantial lifeform shielded them from any further alterations.
Rather than describe them as his creations, to be altered or discarded at will, they became thoughts given form that could not be violated on a whim.
Naturally, Ves still remained the ultimate arbiter of their lives. As long as they took up space in the real estate of his mind, he could wipe them all away if he wished.
"Not that it's desirable to do so."
Ves created the images to enhance the quality of his mech. If he wiped them out before completing his design, he'd be neutering its X-Factor.
Like a parent who meticulously raised their kids, they had to let go of the reins when they grew up. Ves merely hoped he raised them well enough that they didn't do stupid things like doing drugs or spend all their time awake on games.
Currently, his three images share the same amount of mental power provided by Ves. Thus, the initial struggles didn't amount to anything as all three images encountered the same level of opposition.
The stalemate quickly ended once his images expressed their personality traits. The assassin mech exhibited the least amount of activity, as it led a fairly short and one-dimensional life. In contrast, the cheetah and the Last Spear both enjoyed complete lives!
With their inherent advantages, they employed their power in much more creative ways. They soon noticed the assassin mech's failure to keep up. Sensing weakness, the cheetah and the Last Spear tacitly stopped their probes against each other and turned their full might onto the poor mech.
The battle ended in an instant. Faced with attacks from two fronts, the assassin mech could barely put up a defense. The two voracious predators eagerly broke through its guard and frantically absorbed the substance that made up its existence.
The assassin mech died. The cheetah and the Last Spear cannibalized its very existence and used the energies to enrich their lives. They both underwent another minor transformation that strengthened their existences.
Once they fully digested their meals, the two surviving images eyed each other with barely restrained aggression. The cheetah exhibited unrelenting hunger towards flesh while the Last Spear stoically wished to put down the beast.
The Last Spear pounced first. As a former guardsman, he knew that he wouldn't be able to take his rival by surprise. So he decided to attack the cheetah openly, taking hold of the opportunity to deliver the first blow.
The cheetah reared back in surprise. The animal totem's strengthened existence suffered substantial damage from the opening strike. Enraged, the cheetah pounced on the Last Spear and started tearing apart his substance with its claws and teeth.
In the end, the primal ferocity of the cheetah was no match for the ingenuity of man. The animal only knew how to attack and paid little attention to defense. The Last Spear endured the assault as best he could while he steadily whittled down the cheetah's existence.
Once he landed the final blow with his spear, the cheetah ceased to live. Its damaged and punctured existence became the tonic that fueled the Last Spear's final growth. The man steadily absorbed his final opponent's substance. His aura continued to grow stronger as he did so.
When nothing was left of the other two images, the Last Spear bent down on his knees and saluted to the memory of the fallen royal house. Ves could feel his earnest devotion to his cause and how it gave him strength. The added energies had transformed the surviving image into something that approached a living human being.
"It's too bad it still falls short."
Ves vaguely sensed that the Last Spear lacked a crucial ingredient that prevented his ascension into a higher state of being. The melancholy that emanated from the image bled over to Ves, and even he started to feel depressed.
He shook his head. "I can't lose sight of my goal."
If he started sympathizing with his images, he'd become their servants instead of the other way around. Ves had to remind himself that as much as he aspired to explore every facet of the X-Factor, it had to fulfill its original purpose of strengthening his mech designs.
"I'm a runaway scientist who wants to subvert the heavens. It's stupid to treat them like actual humans."
It sounded a little callous, but it was an important distinction to make.
Now that the battle in his mind came to a conclusion, Ves resumed designing his mech. The changes in his mind immediately led to adjustments in his style.
While he still maintained his original vision, his perspective shifted to a direction that highly favored his sole surviving image. The Last Spear exerted a very strong influence in his decision making, to the point where Ves even backtracked on some of his earlier decisions.
Overall, his assassin mech became even stronger with the spear. His design gained some added flexibility in its arms, allowing it to wield its spear more effectively besides thrusting it forward.
Ves didn't necessarily agree with this direction as he had to sacrifice some redundancy in the arms to make room for the modifications.
"A skillful mech pilot will be able to outduel an opponent, but a lesser skilled pilot will suffer."
With much less room for error, it heightened the difficulty of piloting his design. The mech pilot had to avoid damage to its arms at all costs. Despite its added capability, his core design still retained its focus on assassination.
The Last Spear's domineering influence permeated his entire design. The two became connected in a way that made it impossible for Ves to separate the two. He could only destroy them both if he stopped in his tracks, because his sole surviving image could only be contained within his mind for a couple of months.
That had been an unwelcome surprise. While Ves never mothballed his projects so far, to learn that his images only had a limited lifespan ruined his mood somewhat.
Once his images reached a higher state, his mindspace became more unwelcoming to their presence. He had to finish his design as fast as possible so that he could anchor their existences to a more accommodating space.
Fortunately, Ves didn't intend to spend too much time on his assassin mech. As the Barracuda swiftly reached the Bright Republic and almost reached his home, Ves put the finishing touches on his largely-completed design.
Besides the redesign, Ves encountered very few hurdles on his way. His ample knowledge and the simple requirements for his design allowed him to focus solely on a couple of priorities, which led to very few conflicts.
Ves borrowed a few influences from his other designs for his assassin mech. Most significantly, Ves incorporated the Festive Cloud Generator within the small amount of space available. Once the mech sprung its ambush and charged forward with its spear, the entire mech should emit a massive amount of raging black smoke.
If its target becomes lucky enough to spot the phenomenon, the pilot should feel a lot of dread at the incoming wave of doom. Its effect became even more pronounced than the one he added to the Young Blood's legs.
His knight mech simply left a sharp trail behind its legs when it charged, while his assassin mech pumped out a lot more vapor. Ves wanted to amp up the illusion that nothing could stop his mech once it charged out into the open.
While all of the vapor didn't help the mech in its escape, it should still have a measurable psychological effect on bystanders.
If things went right, the black train of doom should become his assassin mech's calling card. Anyone who spotted it should instantly associate it to his design.
Ves spent some time on personalizing its appearance. The stealth armor his variant adopted from the FFL-25 took on a default black coating that minimized reflections. While anything he added over the coating minutely affected its ability to stay hidden, its active stealth systems should be good enough to minimize the problem.
"I think you'll like this." He said to his image as he added the emblem of the fallen royal house onto the chest of his design. The circular symbol resembled a curled up yellow otter.
The Last Spear pulsed with strong emotion once Ves finished adding the emblem. Naturally, he also added in the symbol for his company at the much less prominent place on one of his assassin mech's arms.
The little touches of color added some levity to its serious appearance. Still, Ves didn't wish to detract too much from its original purpose.
"All it needs is a name."
Ves already started thinking of a suitable name at the tail end of his design phase. He wanted to leave a name on his design that encapsulated its role without being too garish or incomprehensible.
"What about DarkSpear?"
It certainly encapsulated the nature of his assassin mech in the most succinct way possible. Those who first encounter the name should immediately be able to associate it with his variant due to the unusual pairing of a stealth mech with a spear weapon.
With that done, Ves submitted his latest design to the System after activating his Privacy Shield. Even in the confines of his own ship, he remained ambivalent about its security.
[Design Evaluation: DarkSpear]
Variant name: FFL-25P DarkSpear
Base model: DarkSilver FFL-25
Original Manufacturer: Carrera Designs
Weight Classification: Medium
Recommended Role: Assassin Mech
Armor: F+
Carrying Capacity: E-
Aesthetics: B+
Endurance: D
Energy Efficiency: E
Flexibility: C-
Firepower: B-
Integrity: C
Mobility: C+
Spotting: D
Stealth: A-
X-Factor: C++
Deviance: 76%
Performance improvement: 18%
Cost efficiency: -3%
Overall evaluation: The DarkSpear is a radical departure from the DarkSilver FFL-25 in many ways. While it largely retained the original's stealth systems, the DarkSpear is able to assassinate its targets as long as it remains unopposed during its brief but violent approach.
[You have received 100 Design Points for completing an original design with a performance improvement of over 10%.]
[You have received 500 Design Points for designing a mech with a moderate presence of X-Factor.]
The System really didn't give his design any high marks. Over the year since he owned the System, Ves learned that the program evaluated his designs in comparison to the same type of mechs.
While he wouldn't have to compare his works directly with the best designs in the galaxy, it still disappointed him a bit that his DarkSpear variant scored so low in many areas.
Different from his other evaluations, the System added a category for stealth. Only in this area did Ves achieve some results. While he hadn't introduced any innovations in this area, his redesign successfully preserved the strengths of the FFL-25's strong stealth systems. In the few areas that mattered, the DarkSpear at least met the minimum standard to fulfill its role.
The only thing that puzzled him was that the System rated him C++ for the X-Factor. Ves had never seen the System use a double plus as a modifier for his score.
"System, why did you give me a C++ and not a B- or something like that?"
This time, the System got off its lazy butt and answered his question in earnest.
[The X-Factor of your design has improved only marginally. The difference in quality exceed your previous efforts but it fails to meet the necessary standards to obtain a higher rating.]
Ves figured something like that must have happened, but it still disappointed him that his experiments hadn't led to a major breakthrough.
"Obviously, something must be different. I'll have to wait for customer feedback in order to find out if anything has improved."
Ves introduced his latest variant to his virtual catalog with hardly any notice. At first, none of his fans noticed the addition of a new 4-star mech.
That changed soon after when the first qualified Iron Spirit players tried out the DarkSpear. Word soon spread among the local players who reached the Gold League or higher.
A new phenomenon soon emerged in the local virtual mech scene.
Chapter 213
By the time the Barracuda finally landed at Cloudy Curtain's spaceport, he had just released the DarkSpear. The storm this model unleashed in the local virtual community still required some time to come into fruition.
At this time, Ves mostly concerned himself with logistics. The new equipment he ordered from Leemar had been loaded in a jumbo transport ship that still took a few more weeks to arrive in Bentheim. The shipment had been delayed due to the need to adhere to the schedule of fixed convoy routes.
Naturally, the shipping services passed on the costs to their customers.
"Business keeps getting more inconvenient." Ves shook his head.
The Rimward Star Herald and all the other news portals had been hammering their subscribers with dire predictions about the state of the economy. The first major businesses that had been hanging on for years had already been tipped over into bankruptcy procedures due to the ongoing rise in costs.
Fortunately, his Living Mech Corporation only operated for about a year. It hadn't developed long enough to develop the massive overhead that older companies usually ended up with. He paid more for security than any other non-production expenses such as payroll, taxes and interest payments.
Ves hoped to change that over time when he finally expanded his workshop's production capacity. While he still had to wait for his alloy compressor and CTM, with the hacked processors in his possession he could finally put the finishing touches on the reconstructed Dortmund printer.
He already looked forward to working with an industrial printer. Ves already had a taste of it when he worked with the stellar machines in Master Olson's Apprentice Workshop. If the Dortmund printer worked as advertised, then Ves could expect to speed up his fabrication phase by as much as seventy-five percent!
In particular, the Dortmund massively sped up the fabrication of uncompressed armor plating. Its increased speed and precision allowed Ves and any other fabricator like Carlos to automate the fabrication of any component up to a certain level of complexity without any worry.
The Dortmund could even fabricate more advanced processors that his current printer couldn't handle. Actually, the mini printer collecting dust in the Barracuda's workshop possessed even more capabilities in this regard, though it needed a lot of time to fabricate a single chip.
Once Ves disembarked from his corvette with Melkor and Lucky, a small fleet of shuttles from Sanyal-Ablin awaited his presence.
"Sir, please enter the center shuttle."
They boarded the only shuttle with the hatch left open. Once they secured themselves into the seats, the entire arrangement started to move. Even a casual trip from Orinoco to Freslin required an armed escort these days. Ves lamented the necessity of it all and the extra charges he'd receive from Sanyal-Ablin.
"The mercenaries and the security companies must be making a killing these days."
"It's not without reason." Melkor commented. "The security industry is able to deter most threats by brandishing their superior gear. Even then, the occasional clashes result in a lot of wear and tear. It takes a massive amount of money to keep their assets functional."
The smaller mercenary corps had a particularly rough time trying to keep afloat. A single ruinous battle could result in massive repair bills that ruined their financial outlook.
"Did you enjoy your stay at Abelard?" Ves asked, changing the topic. "I can imagine the standard for mech pilots is a lot higher in Coalition space."
"It's actually not too far apart. Abelard employs a lot more simulations as well as real mechs so they can ensure that every graduate will at least reach the level of advanced pilot. However, even then they can't ensure that any of them will advance into expert pilots."
Normal mech pilots made up the rank-and-file that usually ended up piloting frontline mechs. Advanced pilots received better treatment due to their ability to bring out the full strength of standard humanoid or animal mechs.
Yet even then, a state wouldn't shed a tear if they lost them by the thousands in a single battle. As long as a state had sufficient time, they could replenish such pilots with relative ease.
Only when a pilot advanced to the rank of expert pilot did they truly become elite. Even the extended Larkinson Family only boasted a couple of expert pilots, almost all of whom retired due to old age or injury.
His grandfather Benjamin happened to be one of them, and used the respect afforded to him to transition into a career in the Ministry of Defense. Even Rittersberg's career politicians had to sit up and pay attention to a former expert pilot.
"How far are you from reaching this rank?"
Melkor chuckled at his question. "You have no idea how difficult it is to achieve a breakthrough. What I've learned at Abelard has made it even clearer to me how much of a gap I still have closed."
"So even second-rate states have difficulty training expert pilots."
"They have more options. Their standard training doesn't produce much better results, but as long as they're willing to allocate unlimited resources to training a couple of important scions, they'll be able to reach the necessary standard by force. Even then, there are several shortcomings, as they often have shaky foundations. The bad habits they haven't corrected will become critical weaknesses at that point."
Ves didn't fully understand what it meant to be an expert pilot, much as Melkor didn't understand the ranks of mech designers. If Ves ever wanted to move up to designing elite mechs, he had to learn what made expert pilots so rare and valuable. Fortunately, Ves had plenty of time before he reached that point.
First, he had to take care of his more immediate concerns. Once his guarded shuttle arrived at the landing pad inside his workshop's premises, he hopped out with a spring and entered his familiar abode. Carlos already waited for him at the entrance.
"Good to see you here!"
"I'm back now. How's the workshop while I was gone?"
"Nothing really comes to mind. I've already told you everything you needed to know from the reports. The main thing that's really bad for business is that the costs of raw materials are continuing to rise. Right now, the total cost of production has ballooned to 20 million credits."
Ves became alarmed. "That much!? A few weeks ago you said it was still around 19 million credits!"
The increase amounted to five percent, which didn't sound so scary. However, his cost figure has already ballooned by almost twenty percent since the start of his production and it might even reach fifty percent by the end of the year.
When Ves delved in the reports, he found out that the major resource suppliers prioritized their bigger clients over small fish like him. With the LMC's current sales volume of roughly a hundred mechs a year, it didn't even represent a blink in the profits of the major suppliers.
The increasingly depressing cost picture reminded Ves once again that he had to take control over his own supply chain. At the very least, he had to ensure the continued supply of the rarer exotics in the event the major suppliers pulled out of the MTA's internal market entirely.
"Let's hear some good news for a change. How are your silver label Mark II's coming along?"
Carlos smiled at him. "I've completely mastered their fabrication. I've poured into all of the manuals and studied more about assembly in my free time. At this moment, I can ensure only one part in a million will have flaws."
Even in the best conditions, a fabricator never promised a success rate of a hundred percent. The Mark II especially exhibited a higher level of complexity than normal. That Carlos made it this far could only be attributed to the fact that he had plenty of time to master one single model.
In comparison, while Ves didn't possess the same level of confidence, his deeper foundation allowed him to fabricate many other models with very few flaws.
As for Carlos, his shallow range of skills forced him to start from nothing whenever he encountered a different model.
"Don't forget to keep mastering your assembly skills. You're already getting a lot of hands-on experience, but without a theoretical background you won't be as flexible as me whenever I introduce a new model."
"When are you ready to introduce your new design? It's already getting stale fabricating the same Mark II over and over again."
"It will take a few months at the very least. First I have to install all my new toys. Then I have to round out my collection of component licenses. I'll likely end up short on money so I might have to pursue some money making projects in the meantime."
Now that Ves established the Living Mech Corporation and had proven its capability to run at a profit, however tenable that might be, his reputation should open up more opportunities.
Once they reached the fabrication hall, they approached the long-dormant Dortmund 3D printer. From a mess of loose components scavenged off a score of wrecked machines, Ves meticulously restored or reconstructed them into a mechanically functional machine. Only the security restrictions hidden within the programming of its processors held it back.
Now, even that has ceased to be an obstacle.
Ves carefully installed the processors back in the appropriate slots before closing up the printer. The anticipation practically swelled within his heart as he pressed the button that should turn his machine online.
A couple of lights dramatically glowed. The dubiously restored Dortmund accepted the input from the processors and became activated without any hiccups.
"It works!"
Both Ves and Carlos celebrated at the Dortmund's successful restoration. Ves eagerly approached the onboard terminal and dug into its diagnostics and status readings. His preoccupation with the machine kept going for hours as he patiently tested the Dortmund's capability to print both micro and larger components.
He even fed the printer some cheap alloys from his inventory in order to see with his own two eyes if the Dortmund matched its description.
"That's so fast!" Carlos exclaimed when a perfect piece of uncompressed armor plating emerged from the machine. "You've got to let me use this machine!"
"You'll get your chance." Ves chuckled. Even he began to tire of his old and ramshackle printer. "For now, whenever I have no need of it, you can use the Dortmund."
Before Carlos could use the new machine, Ves set conditions for its use. Its higher speed and powerful capabilities also increased the risk of catastrophic damage in the event the Dortmund malfunctioned. Carlos had to study the manual and practice fabricating with the Dortmund in a virtual simulation before he received permission to use the industrial printer.
While Carlos went off to do his homework, Ves took over his fabricator's production quota for the week. He already had a silver label Mark II lined up to be shipped at the end of the week. Ves pulled up his sleeves and went to work.
The fabrication run only took up less than a day. Even Carlos required three days at his very best. Parts kept spitting out the exit tray like a machine gun, to the point where his workshop's loader bots threatened to bottleneck the fast-paced fabrication process.
The overworked bots simply couldn't keep up. They worked their antigrav modules to the bone trying to supply enough raw materials for the hungry printer and pick up finished components when they piled up at the exit tray.
In the end, it took longer to assemble the Mark II than it took to fabricate all of its parts. Ves completed the entire fabrication and assembly cycle of the Mark II within two days. With practice, Carlos should be able to achieve the same within three days even if he turned his brain off, as the Dortmund's formidable automation processes did most of the heavy lifting.
With this new machine, the LMC finally had the grounds to call itself a mech manufacturer. Ves smiled with satisfaction as he patted the Dortmund's exterior.
"The first step is done."
Ves still had a lot of hurdles to go through before he became ready to design an original mech. Despite the long road ahead, Ves already thought of a couple of ways to make his printer more useful.
"There shouldn't be more than half-a-dozen industrial printers on Cloudy Curtain, if there are any at all. Perhaps I can make use of this fact."
Chapter 214
After some rudimentary research, Ves found out that Cloudy Curtain took all of its gear from Bentheim. The short distance enabled local businesses to order all manner of machine equipment from the local mecca of fabrication.
So the LMC couldn't effectively rent out its fabrication capacity to other businesses.
However, his options didn't end there. Besides a smattering of small and medium enterprises, Cloudy Curtain also hosted Walter's Whalers. The mech gang recently underwent a major expansion after selling off their scavenged goods. The bulk exotics they sold might not be very valuable, but the huge amount they sold in the black and gray markets earned them lots of credits.
As Ves had traveled more throughout the galaxy and became wiser to the ways of human society, he realized that the Whalers possessed a lot of connections. The strength of their gang lay not only in their solidarity, but also their expansive network with many elements of the Bright Republic's underbelly.
As his company required a lot of money to round out its component licenses, Ves called a meeting with Dietrich. They met up in downtown Freslin at a coffee shop owned by the Whalers. Ves carefully activated his Privacy Shield before they began their discussion, preventing his guards from listening in on sensitive matters.
"You sure that gadget works as advertised?" Dietrich pointed at his comm.
"It's never been beaten as far as I know."
Perhaps some devices could crack through the shield, but Ves doubted that Sanyal-Ablin brought any such equipment with them to snoop on Ves. Kings, presidents and CEOs of major companies deserved that kind of attention.
Ves sipped on a cup of coffee that Dietrich ordered for him. "We haven't seen each other in a while. Before we get to business, how's it going with the Whalers?"
"Oh, it's great! Our numbers are growing by the day!" Dietrich boasted with a gleaming smile. "You helped a lot as well. You've energized a lot of the bored potentates at home. More people are getting interested in mechs again and they've been knocking at our doors until they collapsed!"
Ves hoped he had that kind of effect. Too many potentates in Cloudy Curtain left their training to the wayside once they failed to enter an advanced academy on Bentheim.
"What about their training?"
"Oh we're picking the cream of the crop, whatever little there is, but you know how it goes. The recruits have more spunk than skill, and it takes a lot of screaming and yelling to get them to learn something right."
"Sounds awful."
"It's a little better than before. They've been practicing a lot in games, particularly with your knight and rifleman mechs. Still, that's no true substitute to piloting real mechs."
The local mech academies on Cloudy Curtain had been underfunded for decades. Their training mechs resembled zombies and their curriculum fit a history class more than a mech class. Many of its graduates didn't even qualify for the lowest rank of mech pilot.
As for the local elites, they relied more on private tutors than trusting the academy's teachers to do an adequate job. Ves always thought that Cloudy Curtain hosted enough private tutors and retired veterans to found a private academy on their own, but to each his own.
"Do you have the mechs ready for your recruits?"
"Heavens, no! They'll crash and burn within minutes if we let them anywhere near the cockpit. Besides, we don't have the money."
"I can help you with that problem." Ves said with a smile. "I happen to get my hands on an industrial printer that can fabricate pretty much anything you think of. Best of all, its processors are hacked, so it won't be sending any logs to the original manufacturer."
Most 3D printers established a connection to the local networks in order to send their logs and activity reports to various parties, chief among them the MTA.
Dietrich looked at Ves with a dubious eye. "Are you thinking about doing the repair scam?"
The repair scam was a basic but widespread method that happened to be popular among mercenaries and gangs. When they bought a mech, they usually signed a standard contract that enumerated several rights and restrictions, chief among them the right to repair and replace a damaged component.
Imagine if a mercenary corps reported that their mech lost its arms after a battle against pirates. While they could order replacement arms from the original manufacturer, If they owned a capable 3D printer, they might as well reproduce the arms themselves, so they do so.
A few months later, the same mech happened to lose its legs in a training accident. Again, instead of contacting the original manufacturer, they fabricate replacement legs on their own and restore their mech to full health.
Perhaps another month later, the mercenary corps suffered an ambush from a criminal gang. The recently repaired mech happened to lose its entire torso and head. However, they happened to recover a pair of arms and legs, and they looked to be in pristine condition as well!
The mercenary commander decided not to bother the manufacturer and painstakingly fabricated an entire torso and head, and fit the orphan arms and legs to the machine. Voila, the mech regained its top form!
Of course, all of those battles and training accidents never really happened. They only existed on paper when the mercenary corps had to come up with an excuse to justify their supposed battle damage.
In reality, they bent the repair clauses to their advantage and reproduced an entirely mech out 'replacement parts'. This sort of behavior was really prevalent in the frontier, where expeditions often disappeared into the wilderness for months or years.
Dietrich definitely looked interested. "How good is your new printer?"
"It's a top-of-the-line machine in the Republic. Better machines exist, but what they can do, my Dortmund can do as well."
Ves sent him a document of the Dortmund's capabilities via his comm. While his Privacy Shield blocked any signals from going in and out of the tiny radius around him, it didn't stop any signals kept inside the bubble.
"I don't really know how to read this." Dietrich said and scratched his head. "I'll have to take this up with our technicians, but I believe you."
They elaborated their deal and discussed the details. In addition to commissioning their own 'replacement parts', the Whalers also promised to extend the same service to their contacts for a small fee. Ves and Dietrich didn't set up a formal contract for this agreement. Instead, they arranged everything verbally.
Regarding his earnings, Ves estimated that he stood to gain an extra hundred million credits a year from this agreement. The Whalers and any other clients took care of the resources and all the other costs. Ves merely had to keep his printer available for a couple of hours a week.
"It's best not to go overboard." Dietrich warned him. "Too many new mechs without an obvious source will obviously ring some alarms."
Ves agreed with him. He reserved most of his printer's capacity for his own business activities, especially when his sales started picking up. For now, Ves had the capacity to spare, but once he published a competitive design, he planned to phase out this arrangement.
"Can you offer me some money up-front?" He asked. "I'm kind of short on money."
"Are you in debt?"
"Not exactly."
The mech pilot's face scrunched up as Ves explained his circumstances. "Damn, I always heard it took a fortune to start making mechs, but these sums are outrageous! I'm sorry to say I can't help you here."
This left Ves with a dilemma. While his new agreement with Dietrich could potentially net him a lot of earnings, it took too long to earn all that money.
With this business done, they moved on to other matters. Ves recalled that he once asked Dietrich a favor. He asked them to investigate the Colmes region that the two big farming consortiums secretly developed.
"Have you found out what they are up to?"
Dietrich shook his head. "It's impossible to observe from afar. Our planet's cloud cover rules out any attempts to observe from space, while anything that is hanging lower in the air will get detected for sure."
"So why are the farming consortiums in such a tizzy at this time?"
"Just because we can't look at it, doesn't mean we can't stir the pot." Dietrich smirked and crossed his arms. "Do you know how easy it is to redirect some asteroids to fall upon that area?"
That sounded really dangerous. Redirecting asteroids to employ them as makeshift bombs touched upon a fundamental taboo.
"Oh, relax. They're only about the size of a container. Nothing that will wipe out an entire continent."
"And nothing has stopped the asteroids from falling?"
"Hah! Do you know we're in charge of asteroid defense? It's super easy to tell the government they got totally smashed when I brought them a lot of drinks."
As an obscure, rural planet, Cloudy Curtain boasted little in the way of orbital infrastructure. Their home planet had no space station or defense station, let alone a Republican patrol carrier. No other local power boasted as many mechs as the Whalers.
Sending the asteroid down to the Colmes region was a brazen attack on the farming consortiums. They should know that the Whalers were complicit in this attack, and if they had some brains they should also know that the attack had a connection with Ves.
However, without any evidence, the farming consortiums had no recourse. Making a fuss risked escalating their conflict. In addition, their secretive activities might get exposed.
From the way the consortiums and the ruling coalitions kept mum all these months, Ves suspected that he touched on a critical activity.
"What are they hiding, you think?"
"Even we're scratching our heads at the question." Dietrich responded. "Our best guess is that they're cultivating some super sensitive crops. It's probably something that requires unique conditions to grow and it should also be of very high value. Maybe the farming consortiums have been smuggling those goodies in between the bags of regular cloud rice whenever they send another shipment to Bentheim."
Hardly any inspection paid close attention to bulk goods like rice. If the Whalers guessed correctly, the farming consortiums might be cultivating an extremely high-value crop that Bentheim's upper society loved.
The question was whether they wanted to do something about it. "Do you think it's illegal?"
"It has to be. They shouldn't be so secretive about it otherwise."
The problem they faced was that both sides held a certain amount of leverage over the other. Ves could threaten to sicc the Whalers onto the Colmes region while the ruling coalition could ram their tax bill through the planetary assembly. Both measures resulted in drastic consequences that neither side wanted to see.
Ves predicted that the status quo wouldn't last forever. On principle, the White Doves completely hated mechs and everything they stood for. A mech manufacturer on their own soil offended them in a fundamental way. In essence, they were mortal enemies to each other.
And now, Ves brought over the Whalers to his side. They never really paid attention to the local power structure before, but the latest incident should have woken them up.
"Sorry about bringing you into this fight." Ves apologized.
"No worries, man. They're idiots, anyway. In this kind of galaxy, who the hell believes in pacifism?"
"Pacifists or not, they're loaded with money. They might send some trouble on your way."
The easiest way to cope with Walter's Whalers was to hire a rival gang to dispute their territory. As long as the farming consortiums threw enough money, they were bound to find some willing participants.
Despite expectations, Dietrich remained complacent. "They can try all they want. No sane outfit will take them up on their offer. Do you want to know why?"
"Why?"
Dietrich leaned forward and whispered in a low tone. "I'll let you in on a secret. We answer to Monty the Beheader."
"Monty?!" Ves exclaimed. "One of the Three Tyrants of Bentheim?"
"Yup!"
The vast criminal underworld made a lot of men and women stand out for their brutality. One of the ultimate rulers of the Bentheim underworld, Monty the Beheader became known for cutting off the heads of more than a thousand clansmen who betrayed his allegiance. He boldly recorded the dirty deed and let it spread on the galactic net.
Ever since then, everyone knew that you should never mess around with Monty the Beheader.
Learning that the Whalers ultimately answered to the notorious Bentheim crime boss made Ves feel a little queasy. The kind of activities that Monty engaged in frequently made the news, and not in a good way.
Chapter 215
"Why did you tell me this?" Ves asked with an elevated heartbeat. The Three Tyrants should never be brought up in a casual conversation. In addition, Ves shouldn't even know of the connection between the Monty the Beheader and Walter's Whalers.
"So you know who's got our backs. He's not the nicest boss, but he's fair to his underlings. Besides, the Whalers are merely associates to him. He doesn't pay too much attention to what goes on in hick planets like ours."
"That's good to hear."
It certainly explained how the Whalers enjoyed so many connections. They were actually a part of a larger underground organization with tentacles that stretched out everywhere. In the larger scheme of things, the Whalers kept an eye on Monty's backyard and occasionally helped hide some hot goods that needed to be squared away somewhere obscure but not out of reach.
Dietrich swept up his palm. "Besides, he's really big in the resource trade. I heard you've been looking around for a fixed supplier. If you want, I can give you an introduction to some companies that are in his pocket."
The offer sounded very attractive, to the point where Ves almost spilled his coffee. Still, he felt reluctant to establish deeper ties with a notorious crime boss. Doing a couple of odd jobs might be okay, but if he started getting in deep, he'd wonder if he could ever get out someday.
"Thank you, but I can take care of my own business."
They made no other agreements at this time. Ves hadn't gotten the instant cash infusion that he hoped for, but at least he secured another revenue stream, even if it looked a little dubious. Carlos would have to deal with the extra workload.
After they left the coffee shop, they went their separate ways. Ves returned to his workshop while contemplating his business relationships.
He always knew he had to keep an amicable relationship with the local gang. At Rittersberg, he'd been taught about the reality of the criminal underworld and how pervasive their influence extended throughout society.
Especially out in the galactic rim, most third-rate states lacked the strength to control their territory effectively. This gave room for alternative power structures with different goals in mind. Bentheim was especially rife with warring crime groups, which was one reason why Ves avoided the place.
"Luckily, there's nothing going on here that will attract any serious attention." Ves concluded. "If there's one thing the politicians are right about, it's that our planet is too poor to rob."
Ves still thought differently, but he became more aware of the risks. If Cloudy Curtain ever shed its status as an underdeveloped planet, some groups might wish to take a piece of the pie. If too many people all grabbed a pie, Ves would have nothing left but an empty plate.
"I doubt the situation will end up that way. With the Whalers having been in power for more than decade, they're not so easy to dislodge."
When his armored shuttle arrived back at his workshop, Ves briefed Carlos in on his extra assignment. His friend looked very dubious at him, as if he couldn't believe Ves dared to engage in such a scheme.
"You do know your cousin is part of the Planetary Guard, right? Won't she lock you up if she finds out what kind of scam you're pulling off?"
"She'll never know." Ves confidently said. "The Whalers will take care of all the paperwork. They'll establish shell companies and everything that will fake legitimate repair orders. Even if someone digs into their background, they'll only find that they're owned by another shell company which is owned by another shell company and so on."
Most companies only existed on paper. They acted as holding companies that allowed the real shareholders to hang on to properties without leaving behind their names. This could get very complicated but also very lucrative once different companies set their headquarters at different tax jurisdictions.
"What about your grandfather?" Carlos continued to press. "He's a board member of your company, you know. There's no way you can hide the truth from him once he sees how much extra activity we're doing."
"My grandfather won't make a fuss. I'm sure of it. What I'm doing will not only benefit the company financially, but I'll also be appeasing the local gang that's in control of the planet."
Sometimes you have to get your hands dirty in order to do business. Ves was pretty sure that the Larkinson family established their own ties with shady groups in order to safeguard their real estate on Rittersberg.
In any case, he'd deal with it if it became a problem. At this early stage, Ves couldn't turn his eyes away to an additional revenue stream.
Since the equipment he ordered from Leemar still took some time to arrive, Ves decided to check up on his virtual sales. He placed the DarkSpear onto the virtual market a week ago and wanted to see whether he achieved enough sales.
His eyes opened wide when he inspected his sales history. "Over two-thousand sales!"
He only predicted an initial sales volume of around a hundred mechs. Even in his most optimistic projections, he never dared to hope that he could break past five-hundred units sold.
The amount of credits he earned from these sales still remained negligible as Ves continued to set the lowest minimum prices on his designs. What Ves truly cared about was how much DP the System awarded him for achieving so much 4-star sales.
Since Ves earned 10 DP for each DarkSpear sold, the System should have added over 20,000 DP to his account! He quickly summoned up his Status on his comm and saw with his own eyes that he earned just a little bit more than that amount.
Sure, a four-digit sales volume hardly phased the more successful developers of virtual mechs, but to Ves it represented a great success.
Once he got over his shock, he started scratching his head. Why did his latest model sell so well? Cloudy Curtain might have a modest amount of Gold Leaguers, but Ves imagined that not a lot of people would be interested in piloting an assassin mech. It required a very patient and deliberate playstyle that contrasted sharply with the instant direct action that other mech classifications provided.
He looked at his customer profiles and found that the majority actually came from Bentheim instead of Cloudy Curtain. For some reason, his latest virtual design caught on there.
After a bit of digging, Ves found out why.
In short, a couple of early adopters fell in love with the concept. One of the biggest complaints of assassin mechs was that it became extremely tedious trying to sneak up on an enemy mech.
The DarkSpear happened to skip the riskiest portion of the approach. Unlike other assassin mechs, It didn't need to enter the range in which the sensors of any mech became increasingly more effective at spotting anomalies.
What happened was that the early adopters basically cheesed through the Gold League by taking out their opposition with sudden charges from behind. The enemies never saw them coming if the pilots of the DarkSpear models used them effectively.
Ves guessed that the X-Factor played a vital role in easing the pilots to the stalk-and-pounce tactic the DarkSpear heavily favored. Even through the complications of piloting a virtual mech, the X-Factor still made its presence known, especially since it possessed the highest grade that Ves had produced so far.
The DarkSpear caused a minor upheaval in the Bentheim virtual gaming community. With several copies making the rounds, many oblivious gamers throughout the galaxy turned into their victims. They all left rude and profanity-filled comments behind on the DarkSpear's store page.
"Awful specs! Even my dog can design a better mech than this dude!"
"STUPID MECH! DON'T BUY THIS PIECE OF GARBAGE!"
"I've never heard of Komodo before, but if the mech designers there come up with designs like this, then we're better off without them!"
Still, despite the intense reaction to his new design, he still sold a couple of hundred virtual mechs to players around the galaxy, mostly from the other rim sectors.
Those who lived closer to the center of the galaxy generally scoffed at any mechs designed by someone from the galactic rim. They also enjoyed a higher standard of living so they could afford much higher quality mechs.
Still, despite the spontaneous success of his mech, Ves didn't think it was sufficient. Every 4-star mech charged a considerable sum of in-game gold or real credits to purchase. Once players reached the Gold League, they had to be more mindful of their spending as Iron Spirit introduced more elements to their in-game economy.
So Ves set aside the store page and performed a casual search on the galactic net. The first article that showed up pretty much revealed the
MOSVILLE FIREFLIES CAPTAIN JARLE BRENTHILL DOMINATING HIS OPPONENTS IN THE VIRTUAL BATTLEFIELD WITH A QUIRKY NEW ASSASSIN MECH!
Even Ves had heard about the Mosville Fireflies, though only in passing. Their team captain happened to have come across the DarkSpear somehow when he publically streamed his gaming session.
With his superior skills sharpened by many years on the dueling circuit, Jarle quickly mastered the essence of the DarkSpear and began to take it into the Arena.
Even at the Diamond League level, he completely ran over his opponents. He always made effective use of terrain to further mask the DarkSpear's invisible approach. Jarle never got caught before he started his charge. Even when his mech dropped its stealth, his opponents still took a second or so to react to its sudden presence.
By that time, the DarkSpear's weapon ran through the backs of their mechs.
Even though Jarle eventually matched up against increasingly skilled opponents who managed to react in time, his earlier winning streak had compelled his fans to try out the DarkSpear for themselves. As stream viewers already witnessed a great example on how to utilize the DarkSpear, they quickly found the best uses for this mech.
"Hm, this is the second time I can thank a streamer for delivering me so many sales." He realized.
This time, a pro showcased his model. If a casual player tried their hand at the DarkSpear, they probably would have fumbled in front of an audience. That could have given his design a bad reputation.
Ves looked around and found that Jarle had somehow become obsessed with the DarkSpear. When Ves visited his stream page, he saw that Jarle had been streaming for four hours straight today, attracting a respectable audience that numbered in the hundreds of thousands.
All of this budding enthusiasm for his mech gave him an idea. He called over Raella, who had almost recovered from her Molgon poisoning by now. His niece entered the office area with a grumbling face.
"What's up?"
"I need your help with something. What do you know about Jarle Brenthill?"
As a former amateur duellist, Raella knew more about the dueling scene than anyone else on the planet. She instantly perked up when she heard the name. "Jarle? He's a sick skirmisher pilot. In fact, he's one of my role models! He's great at psychological warfare and always manages to approach his opponents from a tricky angle. He's also wickedly handsome."
Raella said that with a teasing smile that Ves automatically ignored. Instead, he pressed his own concerns. "He's streaming one of my virtual mechs right now on the galactic net. Take a look."
When Raella peeked at the projection, she raised her eyebrows. "Wow. I didn't know you could design something as devious as this DarkSpear. If I was any good at spears, I'd probably be interested too."
"Do you think Jarle might be open to some form of sponsorship or other cooperation with me?"
Mentioning sponsorship to Raella who used to aspire for it might not be wise, but Ves figured enough time had passed to take the sting away.
"That depends." Raella crossed her arms. She stopped paying attention to the stream. "Jarle is the team captain of the Fireflies. Currently, they're doing great in the 3v3 arenas, so he's not short on sponsors and cash. It will take a lot of credits to attract his attention."
"How much?"
"Mech athletes make a lot of money when they win." Raella explained. "They have to if they want to repair all the battle damage their mechs frequently incur. It takes around ten million credits to get your foot in the door."
That sounded way too much money for Ves. He might as well use Iron Spirit's direct advertising system in that case.
Ves frowned a bit. "I'm not talking about a sponsorship of the Fireflies. I just want to sponsor his stream for a time. Will it be possible to come to an arrangement with him in this matter?"
"Well, it's off-season right now, so Jarle has a lot of free time on his hands. You have to know that a pro at his level isn't streaming because he's in need of extra cash. He's using it to interact with his fans."
That made a lot of sense. When Ves watched the stream, Jarle frequently responded to the comments from his viewers. That sort of interactive engagement with his fans helped build his brand.
"So there's no chance I can catch his attention?"
"That's not true. There's still one way you can catch his attention." Raella replied with a smile. "Offer him something unique. Streamers love showing off unique mechs that are tailored to their style. Since Jarle seems to love your DarkSpear design so much, why not offer to customize it? A lot of mech designers show off their goods in this way, not only at online streams, but also in the real arenas."
Her suggestion had a lot of merit. Customized mechs remained the ultimate possession for many mech pilots.
Chapter 216
[MissMisstep: Jarle, what do you think is better when it comes to mech duels, a win with severe battle damage or a loss without scratch?]
"A win! You've got to win all the way! If you're already starting to think about repair bills when you're dueling another team, you've already given up." Jarle emphatically said. "The only way to earn enough credits to keep your mechs in tip top shape is to keep on winning!"
In truth, even a top-tier team like the Velvet Fists couldn't afford to wreck their mechs in every match. Each dueling season tested the skill and judgment of each team. Some knew when to give up early and saved up on repairs, while others kept on fighting past the point of no return and faced exponentially greater costs.
Explaining all of that took a lot of nuance that belied his public image as a daredevil. With his handsome face and his half-shaved blond hair, Jarle presented himself as the ultimate thrill seeker who constantly risked it all and won.
His bold but slightly dim person also helped mask his deviously tricky fighting style.
[ZevHarper: Will we be seeing you in action this summer?]
Jarle nodded inside his virtual cockpit. "I'll be appearing in a couple of rallies organized by the Mech Corps. Be sure to check the schedule on my profile page!"
Even as he responded to his many viewers, his DarkSpear silently crept through the rocky cliffs and hills of a desolate moonscape.
His mech's high powered stealth systems ran at quarter strength right now. It did nothing to prevent a mech from seeing his DarkSpear if it had a direct line of sight, but it was sufficient to dampen his other emissions as long as Jarle stayed behind cover.
Finding the right place to hide happened to be one of his specialties. Under his expert control, he slowly crept behind the highly advanced swordsman mech that kept a wary eye towards its surroundings.
In 1v1 duels like this, if your opponent never showed up, he probably prepared an ambush. As a fellow Diamond League player, the enemy pilot didn't let down his guard. An extremely complicated dance emerged as a result where both sides tried to maneuver in their most optimal positions.
The DarkSpear held a decisive advantage over the swordsman mech. The latter excelled in open duels, and did not include any sophisticated sensor arrays capable of detecting stealthed opponents.
However, even if the swordsman mech only possessed a standard set of sensors, their overall quality ensured they'd be able to detect any approaching assassin mechs once it reached a distance of fifty to a hundred meters or so. That gave the pilot enough reaction time to set up a guard.
As long as his swordsman mech withstood the first blow, his advantage only grew.
With soft and measured steps, the DarkSpear slowly closed the distance to the swordsman mech. Jarle moved practically in sync with his mech. He became completely immersed in the act to the point where he stopped paying attention to the questions of his viewers.
He was on the hunt.
The enemy pilot had a brain, as he chose the most open area on the battlefield. A wide stretch of moon plains provided precious few opportunities to conceal an approach.
Jarle estimated the DarkSpear's power and heat reserves and noted that he had less capacity in the latter. It didn't matter too much as his estimates placed his mech's capacity within range of his targeted distance.
He flicked the switch that activated the full-powered stealth suite. The DarkSpear shimmered out of existence, and a low oppressive dampening field minimized its other emissions.
Jarle entered a highly focused state where he constantly adjusted the movements of his mech according to his judgment. He moved when his opponent looked elsewhere and sat still when he risked getting noticed. Even if the DarkSpear obscured its entire frame, it was very difficult to hide its footsteps.
He managed, somehow. He utilized a special stepping technique that allowed the DarkSpear to move forward briskly while leaving minimal traces behind. It utilized the slight uneven terrain to its advantage as no battlefield was truly flat.
The swordsman mech had no clue a deadly hunter approached its back. As the DarkSpear slowly stalked its way closer, Jarle's anticipation built up to a heightening crescendo. Target fixation threatened to overwhelm his mind but Jarle made sure to hold back his urge to propel his mech forward.
"Now is not the time."
His mech subsided a bit as it realized that Jarle had a point. The swordsman mech turned around abruptly a few seconds later. If the DarkSpear charged out at this point, it would have been exposed.
It became a test of time. Would the swordsman mech turn back around before the DarkSpear's cloak ran out? It might be better for the assassin mech to begin its attack, for if it became exposed at a distance, it would suffer a very bad fate.
In this, Jarle could only rely on his own seasoned instincts. Normally, he never really took simulations like Iron Spirit seriously. For all of its professed attempts at realism, it always seemed to pale in comparison to the visceral feeling of piloting a real mech.
Yet the DarkSpear changed his outlook on the game. He only purchased the gimmicky model on a whim as he was curious to see how someone could marry a spear wielder and an assassin mech. Ever since he entered the cockpit, Jarle had the sensation that he entered into a black hole. The mech hid a lot of depth, and he'd plunged straight into the hole.
By now, he must have piloted the DarkSpear through hundreds of duels. All of his viewers got to see his overwhelming performance in the comfort of their homes. Even now, his fans screamed for him to wreck this swordsman mech and add another victory to his already swelling record.
"Not yet."
As Jarle's mech only had around five seconds left of cloaking time, the swordsman mech finally turned around. The moment it did so, the DarkSpear erupted from its hiding spot and charged forth in a blazing black missile of doom. The Festive Cloud Generator attached to its frame billowed out demonically towards the unsuspecting swordsman mech.
The enemy pilot's mech blared an alarm. To his credit, he turned around fairly quickly, though the only thing he saw was a big black streak of vapor closing in on his mech. The pilot panicked and prepared to dodge, only to stop when he belatedly noticed that his sensors detected a mech at the forefront of the cloud. The swordsman mech quickly raised its sword in a guard.
"Too late!" Jarle yelled as his mech deftly veered to the left at the very last moment. Propelled by the full momentum of a mech at the apex of its charge, his spear punched right through the swordsman mech's chest and dealt moderate damage to its internals, barely missing the core shell of the power reactor!
The stricken mech received such a heavy blow that it had been flung into a half-spinning back throw. Even then, it recovered remarkably quickly. It continued to spin and kicked out with its feet, preventing the DarkSpear from delivering its coup-de-grace.
"You're bleeding." Jarle grinned. "I can feel your power reactor failing."
The swordsman mech exhibited unstable movements as its entire frame suffered from a lack of power. Still, even at half its strength, the swordsman mech possessed superior strength and speed. Besides its awful chest wound, all of its other sections remained undamaged.
As if realizing its predicament, the swordsman mech threw caution to the wind and embarked on a furious counter-attack with all of its systems running past their peak. Its pilot needed to ensure a quick win, and he was confident that his damaged mech could handle an assassin mech out in the open.
Jarle grinned as he guessed his opponent's intentions. "You've already died after I made my first blow."
His viewers howled for blood and started betting on how much time it took for Jarle to finish it off. The shortest bet ranged from ten seconds while the longest one went up to three minutes.
Perhaps an average pilot might be in trouble, but Jarle had more than a decade of duelling experience. While he missed his daggers, the DarkSpear's eponymous weapon jabbed and spun with expert handling. Taking advantage of its reach, Jarle kept the fumbling swordsman mech out of range while slowly chipping away at the gaping hole in its chest.
"Damn it, if I had my daggers, I'd already be peeling open this can of worms!"
It took an entirely different set of skills to handle a spear compared to a pair of daggers. What got to Jarle the most was that his opponent read most of his moves like he was an open book.
Despite his earlier setback, the enemy pilot was still a highly skilled swordsman. Jarle had to take advantage of his opponent's failing machine to get an edge. In addition, after hundreds of duels, Jarle had slowly become used to the unwieldy weapon.
After parrying aside another sword slash, the DarkSpear plunged forward abruptly with its strong legs and shoulder bashed the swordsman mech. It dealt relatively minor damage to its opponent, but successfully threw the swordsman mech off balance.
Even as the swordsman mech slashed wide in a last-ditch effort to deter an attack, the DarkSpear took the blow head on, allowing its free arm to be amputated while the other arm thrust its spear into damaged sections of the swordsman mech.
The victory message hardly sated Jarle as the virtual battlefield winked out of existence. This fight shouldn't have turned into an open brawl. Almost every opponent he met as of late survived the initial charge and fought back with the ferocity of a wounded bear.
"This mech is getting kind of boring." Jarle spoke to his viewers once his cockpit shimmered away and threw him back to his lobby. "Do you think I should pilot something new?"
His viewers expressed divided opinions. Some wanted him to carry the DarkSpear all the way to the top of the Diamond League while others missed his more conventional skirmisher style.
Jarle grinned at the comments and responded with a simple message. "I'll think about it."
After answering a few more questions, he said his goodbyes and shut off his stream. As he emerged from his simulator pod, he felt oddly empty now that he left the virtual cockpit behind.
The DarkSpear had a way of compelling him to return and assassinate more mechs. Even piloting his competition mechs felt hollow in comparison. Personally, Jarle figured that the novelty of piloting such a unique variant must have infected his mood.
While Jarle left the simulator room and headed for the showers, his agent suddenly appeared.
"Jarle! I've got something interesting for you!"
"What is it?"
"There's this kid called Gavin Neumann on the line. He says he represents the mech designer who came up with the DarkSpear you're messing around lately. He wants to enter into a minor sponsorship agreement with you!"
Jarle frowned at his agent. Minor sponsorship agreements usually netted him and his team a paltry sum. "I thought I told you to refuse all these petty deals. I've long grown beyond groveling for pennies."
The early career of a mech athlete always revolved around money. Jarle remembered that he used to sign contracts for baby feed and dog toys back when he started out.
"Hey, it's not like that. This is more of a temporary thing where you pimp the DarkSpear for a couple of weeks." His agent replied defensively. "Gavin is claiming that the mech designer is willing to design a customized virtual DarkSpear for you."
That attracted his attention. Like any mech pilot, Jarle appreciated custom mechs. Unlike the general models on the market that had been designed to accommodate as many pilots as possible, custom mechs allowed their pilots to bring out their full strength at any time.
Mech athletes like Jarle hardly ever showed any interest if someone threw a money chip containing millions of credits in front of his feet. On the other hand, the moment a decent mech designer offered to design a custom mech, they'd all be slobbering like dogs.
Jarle only kept his composure due to the fact that he'd merely be getting a customized virtual mech. Even then, his constant longing for the DarkSpear made it very difficult to set this offer aside.
"Tell me more. How much work do I have to do to earn this custom mech?"
Chapter 217
Ves left the job of establishing contact to his publicist. Gavin worked efficiently and contacted the Fireflies for a sponsorship offer.
To Gavin's surprise, Jarle expressed interest in obtaining a custom virtual mech. That left the door open to negotiations, which Gavin and Jarle's agent quickly hammered out.
Since the deal did not require much formality, the two sides came to a simple understanding.
In absolute terms, Ves provided Jarle with an exclusive customized virtual DarkSpear. He'd design the unique machine after a talk with Jarle over the comm and after he received a list of specifications.
Since they wanted to get this done as quickly as possible before the new dueling season began, Ves would not take more than a few days to complete the custom design.
Once Ves had done his part, Jarle would pilot his custom job and promote the DarkSpear model for a certain number of hours per week. The mech athlete and streamer would continue to pimp the DarkSpear model for a month.
The actual contract looked a lot more complicated, but put simply, Ves got his first spokesperson for the huge and largely untapped Bentheim market.
Gavin visited the workshop to brief Ves on the contract and get him to sign a few documents. He also had a lot of questions about the deal.
"Isn't it premature to expand your brand presence in Bentheim? I thought we already agreed on our marketing strategy. Diverting too much attention on the virtual market makes no sense. The real and virtual markets are too different from each other. Even if you spend a lot of effort on your virtual models, your actual earnings won't increase by all that much."
Ves understood Gavin's doubts, but he had to grow his ability to earn lots of DP. "I don't entirely agree with you on that point. Marcella tells me that many of my customers who bought the Mark II became convinced of its craftsmanship after trying out some of my virtual models. In addition, higher sales figures of my virtual product lines will also translate to confidence in the quality of my real mechs."
"It will be a blip in the ocean. Jarle is hardly the most popular celebrity from Bentheim. Without a constant media presence, your brand will quickly fall into obscurity."
His words rang true. As the local mecca of mech production and export, Bentheim was saturated with thousands of brands. At the LMC's current scale, it had no hopes of competing with these long-established household names.
Still, Ves didn't need to put in a lot of effort to cobble up a custom virtual DarkSpear, and he got plenty of short-term benefits out of the weeks-long promotion. As long as his sales for his latest virtual mech surpassed ten thousand units, he'd earn 100,000 DP in total. Ves needed the huge sum to shore up his skills and attributes to design a decent original mech.
Despite Gavin's skepticism, Ves still went through with his plans. Before Gavin left, he wanted to ask a question that had been burning in his mind for a while.
"Boss? I'd like you to clear something up for me."
"Yes?"
"Well, it's like this. I've been analyzing the sales patterns of your virtual mechs and compared them to your peers. One pattern happened to stand out like a sore thumb. Your customer retention is off the charts. Anyone who buys one of your virtual mechs is several times more likely to buy another mech designed by you. This usually doesn't happen to newcomers in the market."
Consumers never really paid attention to the mech designer when they purchased a product from the low-end of the virtual market. They only cared about specs and their personal feelings about the mech.
Most mech designers who started out wished to make a name for themselves and their businesses. A mech manufacturer with a steady amount of repeat customers would never have to worry about missing their sales targets as long as they didn't screw up.
"I've focused a lot on improving the piloting experience." Ves answered simply. "I'm guessing that my customers have caught on to its benefits. I'm sure you've found that out yourself when you ask around."
"It's beyond that. Some of your customers are oddly attached to their mechs, to the point where they treat them as affectionately as pets. I'm rather concerned because this effect is very pronounced in certain cases. It reminds me of the Farund Affair."
"Heavens no!" Ves immediately denied. "I haven't messed around with the neural interfaces. This is nothing like the Farund Affair."
The Farund Affair stood out as the first and only case where a company managed to brainwash its customers with its virtual mechs. Back then, the simulator pod manufacturers competed against each other on how well they could make their simulations come to life. They all increased the intensity of their neural interfaces with each new generation of pods.
This uncontrolled growth of neural intensity led to some companies taking advantage of this phenomenon by messing around with the neural interfaces of their mechs. Most tried to be subtle and added a minor addictive element to their interfaces. For a couple of years, these shady companies saw steady growth as their models grew in popularity.
Farund Inc. obviously didn't get the message. Its brash CEO jacked up all of the settings to the maximum. In the short term, his company rose like a rocket as sales ballooned almost exponentially. It became a major sensation in the virtual market as its models became increasingly dominant in the mech simulator games of that time.
Sadly for Farund, the good times didn't last together. A few mech designers got suspicious and started poking around at Farund's many designs. Their actual specs were nothing special, but each test pilot became instant converts the moment they piloted the virtual mechs.
The horrifying consequences of Farund's mechs finally came to light when researchers found out about the tampered neural interfaces. The scandal ruined the company overnight and the MTA arrested all of its executives and mech designers. They only took a week to sentence them to death.
Even then, many of its victims required years of therapy in order to wean off the urge to pilot any of Farund's mechs. A million or so of its most devoted fans had played with the virtual mechs for so long that their condition became practically incurable. The MTA took them all in and nobody had ever heard from them again.
These days, virtual mechs receive much closer scrutiny. Iron Spirit certified every virtual mech submitted to its marketplace and they often flatly refused any mech that included non-standard neural interfaces. In addition, manufacturers of simulator pods cleaned up their act and pulled back some of their most extreme innovations.
In this light, Gavin's question made little sense. Even if Ves had any nefarious intentions, he'd never get away with it with all the precautions introduced after the Farund Affair.
After Gavin made the arrangements, Ves faced a projector which fizzled into the image of Captain Jarle Brenthill. The man truly looked gifted in both looks and talent. Even Ves felt a little bit oppressed when faced with a celebrity of this magnitude.
"Hello Jarle. It's nice to meet you."
"Likewise." The mech athlete responded perfunctoryly while he studied Ves. "You've got a sturdy body. Are you working out?"
"Ah, no. It's due to a mishap that messed with my genetics."
"Well, I still have some training to catch up to, so I'll make it short. First, I got our resident mech designer to form up a list of what I'd like to include in my custom mech. I'd appreciate it if you can meet at least two-thirds of what I've noted down."
Jarle sent the virtual document over to Ves, who opened it up and skimmed through the points. The mech athlete's priorities had been formatted in precise language that told Ves exactly what to do. That made his job much easier than if he merely had a brief talk with Jarle.
"I see that you wish to change the DarkSpear's default weapon from a spear to a pair of daggers." Ves carefully noted. The document even included an exact set of dimensions for the pair of blades. "This... I can see why you prefer the daggers, but my mech favors forward momentum over agile footwork. Those weapons will not be a good fit for my current frame."
"Don't worry about it. I'll make it work. As long as you can increase the range of motion and the responsiveness of the arms, I'll be okay with my baby."
"The arms are already optimized for thrusting and absorbing shocks. If you want me to increase their range of motion, I'll have to take away some of its other abilities."
"Then do so. I'm fine with such a trade."
Fortunately, Jarle set realistic expectations for his custom mech. He set a few other reasonable conditions that Ves agreed to without much objection. As a consummate professional who piloted dozens of mechs in his career, he knew what kind of limitations mech designers faced. Most professionals picked up on some basic knowledge from the design world as they came into contact with different mechs.
Only spoiled brats like Vincent Ricklin who only ever trained with one or two models asked for something as dumb as a codpiece for their mechs.
Overall, Ves understood Jarle's desires for his custom mech and it was his job to make it into reality. After cutting off the connection after an hour of discussion, Ves mulled on how to go about this project.
His main concern was to preserve the model's excellent X-Factor. Ves faced a difficult puzzle in that the X-Factor for the DarkSpear had already been set in stone. Even if Ves updated its design in the future, the assassin mech always became defined by its ability to charge from stealth.
Ves recalled the few times he went back to a design and changed the schematic. The Marc Antony Mark II came to mind. Ves did not really depart from his vision, but he made such a radical redesign that it could even be considered an entirely new variant rather than an update from the Mark I.
Even then, Ves did not stray too far from his original vision. He merely defined them in explicit terms so that he had a better grip on the just-developed Triple Division technique.
For this project, Ves considered whether he could grant his custom design an entirely new gestalt.
"It's worth a try. I doubt this will end badly. At worst, I'll just scrap my work if I end up with a muddle-headed design."
He activated his design suite and loaded in a copy of the DarkSpear's design schematic. When Ves looked at the assassin mech, he felt that every shape and marking hid a portion of the Last Spear's will. For a moment, Ves dreaded the thought of tearing this mental creation apart.
He shook his head. "What am I hesitating about? It's just a copy."
Even if he butchered this particular copy, it didn't affect the main design. While he intuitively thought that every permutation of a design should share the same strain of X-Factor, in reality each copy took on its own separate existence.
This was one of the biggest reasons why the X-Factor could never show its full strength in the virtual world. The virtual mechs never lasted long enough to develop its history.
With this perspective in mind, Ves steeled himself and visualized a knife in his mind. With the ruthless care of a pet owner about to end the life of a suffering dog, he struck at the image central to this image.
CLANG!
The Last Spear's manifestation showed up at the last possible moment and parried the mental knife with his spear! The rebound from the failed strike rattled Ves to the point where he took a few steps backward.
The image associated with the DarkSpear had developed its own instincts for life. It could even detect a threat against its existence and put up a defense!
Ordinarily, Ves would rejoice that he developed his X-Factor to the point where it developed a form of autonomy. Now, it made things harder, for Ves found to his surprise that the Last Spear's manifestation possessed just enough strength to withstand his mental attacks.
In essence, Ves could not even overcome his own creation!
Chapter 218
"Perhaps I'm going at it the wrong way."
Ves tried to kill the image embedded into a copy of the DarkSpear's design in various ways. No matter what kind of weapon he materialized in his mind, the stubborn manifestation of the Last Spear always parried his attempts.
Each time he got rebuffed, his mental stability took another hit. His brain became so disarrayed that he had to halt his attempts to kill the image.
"Maybe that's the problem. I'm not treating it with respect."
Ves realized he fell into the trap he often accused others of falling for all the time. His design was not some commodity to be used and discarded at will. It possessed its own determination to live, at least in his conception of how the multiverse worked.
Despite his strong visualization, Ves could never really rule out that everything that happened earlier was just a figment of his imagination. The further he delved into the X-Factor, the more he relied on intuition instead of theory backed by solid science.
Still, the image was so strong that it couldn't be imaginary. His headaches felt very real.
After trying and failing to take the forceful approach, Ves tried to use a gentler means to coax the image.
"I need you to be able to wield a pair of daggers. Will you let me change your fighting style?"
The manifestation objected strongly to this change. He wielded the spear like it was his sacred duty. Even if he shifted his profession from a royal guard to a slinking assassin, he never got rid of his determination to slay his enemies with the weapon of his choice. Taking up a pair of daggers made the manifestation feel dirty.
Ves only had himself to blame for these personality traits. In his original vision, the DarkSpear focused completely on wielding its spear to its maximum effect. He threw no consideration to any alternatives due to a lack of carrying capacity. Even adding in a backup knife ruined its balance.
Against the intractable Last Spear, Ves made no headway in achieving any sort of compromise. The manifestation did not even leave the door open to negotiation. He didn't even blame the stubborn creation for refusing his overtures.
Even if Ves expressed his sincerity, his patience had a limit.
Perhaps he could make another attempt by starting over, but Ves did not wish to leave this problem unfulfilled. There might be a time in the future where he had to make some changes on the fly. If he still didn't possess a solution to this problem, he'd be facing constant setbacks and delays.
He took a step back and tried to parse the situation. The manifestation inhabiting the copy of the DarkSpear design never showed any signs of tiring. Where did it get its energy? Was it inexhaustible or could Ves slowly chip away at its reserves?
If he could figure out this puzzle, he may be able to come up with a means to wear down this stubborn image.
Then he thought about how the X-Factor centered around the unity of the mech designer, mech and mech pilot. Leaving the pilot out of consideration, what if Ves forcibly tried to change the design with an overriding image? Could he impose his own vision over the original design and therefore change the fundamental makeup of the X-Factor?
As much as Ves treated the images like living beings, they exhibited many traits that left them open to exploitation. "They exist in the imaginary realm and have to obey the rules that govern their existence. They aren't solid in a way that makes them unassailable. If I can chip away at their foundation, I can open a crack in their defenses."
Ves took a break in order to get his mind back in order. He played around with Lucky and cataloged the gems he excreted lately. The cat lately complained about an insufficiency of high quality minerals, so Ves had to order a new shipment of premium ores to stop Lucky's badgering.
"What's another million or so credits?" He ruefully told himself. "Compared to my cat's wellbeing, money is no objection."
His cat ate so many minerals and only produced a couple of gems in the end. The disparity between input and output was so huge that Ves wondered how his mechanical cat's digestion actually worked.
Did Lucky convert low-quality minerals to high quality alloys within its digestive system or did he turn it into pure energy?
Both possibilities seem outlandish considering Lucky's size. Only the most advanced labs could accomplish such a feat.
Other than cutting him open, Ves had no way to be sure. He left the problem aside and decided to catch up on the news.
He visited the galactic net and saw much of the same doom and gloom. Rising costs started to trickle down to the consumers and everyone felt the pinch. Their willingness to spend more on luxury goods declined, which caused several businesses catering to these markets to decline in turn.
The Republic's economy slowly transitioned into war footing Production of mechs, turrets, carriers and a vast amount of supplies ramped up in preparation of half a decade of war. Naturally, the bulk of these extra orders went to the big established companies. Small fry like his Living Mech Corporation barely benefited from this upsurge of demand. In fact, the rising cost of production negated most of his gains.
"How is House Kaine doing these days?"
With the expedition over, House Kaine and Ves went their separate ways. By now, the Ark Horizon should have made the journey back to the Grey Willow StarSector.
Ves searched the news and found that Lord Kaine had made some waves upon his return. House Kaine had actually been in bad shape for a while and even stood to lose its most valuable planets. However, the successful expedition turned the tables on the vultures that preyed for their fall.
With a new champion in the form of Felicity Kaine, House Kaine successfully gained prominence through a number of duels against rival houses. The major reason why she won the duel was because her Cathrec received an overhaul that vastly increased its power generation.
Finally, House Kaine announced a number of partnerships with the CFA, which also contributed to their ascendancy. With the tacit backing of a behemoth in the form of the Common Fleet Alliance, House Kaine didn't have to worry about rivals trying to undermine them in secret for a couple of years.
"The CFA must have gotten a great haul out of the Groening System."
Much of the frontier remained untouched by human greed. The galaxy was simply too large to be explored in its entirety. Treasure and danger coexisted alongside each other in this vast sea of stars. House Kaine happened to have gambled and won in their last ditch effort to make a big score.
Still, Ves knew how fraught it had been at certain times. The news only celebrated the success stories. For every successful expedition, ten more crashed and burned. Out here in the frontier, people regarded treasure hunting as delayed form of suicide.
After Ves finished his recovery, he summoned up the copy of the design and prepared for round two. This time, he opted to go for an indirect approach, seeing as he could never beat the vigilant manifestation in a head-on clash.
First, Ves adjusted his vision for the DarkSpear. He visualized his custom mech's performance if Ves adopted Jarle's suggestions. The frame took on a slightly different shape that enhanced its flexibility. Its prominent spear made way for a pair of blackened curved daggers. The mech's overall paint scheme took on a Mosville blue shade, with the team logo prominently replacing the royal emblem on its chest.
Now that he had his vision, Ves turned his attention to constructing the right accompanying image. He had to be careful with this step because he didn't wish to ruin his custom mech's X-Factor by destroying its original identity.
"I have to supplement the image somehow."
Ves had a good idea on how to go about it. First, he constructed a simple image centered around Jarle Brenthill. He summoned another projector and let it display some highlights of the mech athlete's career. A vague entity emerged in his mind that carried the essence of Jarle's piloting style.
"This should be close enough."
Then he slowly started tweaking the actual design. He already prepared his plans beforehand, so he worked swiftly in dismantling his design's original arrangements. Ves avoided bumping into the manifestation. Instead, he solely focused on his new vision and image and tried to embed it into his current work.
This time, he encountered no obstruction. The manifestation of his design's X-Factor started to take on different traits as Ves slowly changed the fundamental nature of his design. The schematic and its accompanying X-Factor turned from a pure spear wielder into a transitional form that made it better at wielding daggers.
It was as if a drop of black paint had fallen onto a bucket of water. The previously clear water became murkier as it took on a gray shade. The longer Ves worked, the more drops of paint fell down into the bucket.
In the meantime, the manifestation didn't even realize its own contradictory nature. The image flickered a lot as it couldn't decide whether to wield a spear or a pair of daggers.
The dichotomy became more pronounced as Ves continued to work on the design for the next couple of days. The design steadily reached a tipping point where its original identity of a spear wielder became lost.
"Now should be a good time."
Ves switched the swear for a pair or daggers he already prepared beforehand. The curved weapons fit the new design like a glove. For a moment, he expected explosions, but nothing drastic resulted from this action. The manifestation slowly warped and solidified into a dagger wielder. Its appearance even resembled Jarle.
"It worked!"
He learned something new with an attempt. His images drew their strength from their source. Affecting the source allowed Ves to affect the original X-Factor in a form that fit his modifications better. He felt relieved that he didn't have to go back to the drawing board each time he wanted to update his design or derive a custom mech out of one of his models.
The ramifications of this experiment affected more than just his own models. Ves wondered if he could apply the same method to other designs or mechs. He could even use it as a subtle form of sabotage.
"If I ever happen to be working on a mech for someone I hate, I can subsume its X-Factor with a malevolent spirit. Even if every inspection checks out, the mech will still perform worse than normal."
He quickly discarded the idea. Something like that would never happen. Mech pilots wanted people he could trust to work on their mechs. Putting an enemy in charge of your own war materiel was just asking for trouble.
Now that he solved the biggest issue, Ves resumed his design work and finalized his modifications. Most of the changes required a decent amount of testing that ate up a lot of time, but Ves wanted to ensure he delivered a flawless product. The fate of the sponsorship deal and Jarle's enthusiasm for his endorsement mattered a lot.
"This is going to be my first proper entry into the Bentheim market. Once the DarkSpear catches on, my other models will see a surge in popularity."
Once that happened, Ves gained a foothold in the notoriously crowded Bentheim mech scene. He expected to boost both his virtual and real business activities from that point.
According to the latest shipping update, his new equipment should arrive at his workshop in the coming week. Once he unpacked his goodies and installed them on the workshop floor, he'd be ready for the next phase in his business plan.
"I'm still short on money, though."
With only a couple of component licenses under his belt, Ves needed at least a dozen more to round out his collection. With his company's current war chest, he'd be hard pressed to license a set of decent components that could fit his minimum standards.
He intended to design a premium mech, after all. He should invest at least a billion credits in this area to avoid inconsistencies in his original design.
"Where can I find some money!"
Short of exchanging his valuable merits or finding an opportunity to make a quick buck, Ves considered whether he should take another loan.
Chapter 219
With the declining profitability of his only Mark II production model, Ves could not sit back and wait. His rough projection of the future revealed that his profits diminished at an alarmingly fast rate.
While he considered taking another loan, Ves ruled that out after figuring he did not wish to become more reliant on external actors that might not have his best interests at heart. Banks that extended huge loans to companies often demanded a voice on how to run the company.
Ves absolutely abhorred such a possibility.
As for selling merits, he'd be making a huge loss if he went through with such a transaction. Merits were extremely valuable and hard to come by. Even a single merit represented a chance to obtain priceless knowledge that he couldn't get from the System.
While the System's Skill Tree allowed him to learn many standard skills, Ves learned that they contained no personality. What he meant by this was that the knowledge held no biases or special insights developed over a long period of designing mechs. Sometimes, this should be an advantage, but other times Ves would miss out on crucial perspectives like Master Olson's focus on endurance and longevity.
Ves vaguely sensed the System's requirements for advancing a skill from Journeyman-level to Senior-level demanded a thorough understanding of the field. This meant that he had to broaden his range and become acquainted with many different viewpoints held by different experts in the field.
Mech designers ordinarily hoarded such knowledge. Even the System didn't provide him with different perspectives on the same subject. Thus, merits formed the only way for him to advance in the future.
"I can still decide to exchange it later as a last ditch effort." He decided. He hadn't exhausted all of his other methods.
He decided to follow his mech broker's suggestion and look for events where he could showcase his ability. A quick search on the galactic net returned dozens of conferences, competitions, show events and exhibitions starting in the next couple of months in the Republic alone.
Most of these occasions demanded strict requirements to any participating mech designer. No ordinary Dick, Tom and Harry would be allowed to bring their horrible designs and amateurish mechs.
The classiest events that attracted the richest clientele only opened their doors to Journeyman Mech Designers and higher. Ves had to rule these prestigious events out and lower his sights to those that welcomed Apprentice Mech Designers like himself. These occasions generally drew a poorer crowd that cared more about getting a bargain than ordering a quality mech.
He shook his head. "These sound more like flea markets than proper opportunities to show your talent."
Ves studiously combed through the various events and tried to find one which offered him the best possibility to close a lucrative deal.
He found one in the Vintage Festival.
It celebrated the coming passing of lastgen mechs into obsolescence. With the next generation of mechs about to arrive, a number of people who grew up during the rise of last gen mechs more than twenty years ago found it difficult to say their goodbyes to these reliable workhorses.
To them, their love of last gen mechs represented a nostalgic love of their childhood experiences. They used to play with toys of last gen mechs and played the models in virtual simulations in their adolescence. Even if their performance had fallen off these days, their heartfelt love for this period of mech development remained more important than the specs of the following generation of mechs.
"These are my kind of guys." Ves remarked with gleaming eyes. Many of the attendants to these festivals had money to spend and didn't care too much about the latest innovations. They only wanted to go back in the past and relive the glory days of the last generation of mechs. They'd easily overspend on anything that struck their fancy.
The only problem was that many of his fellow mech designers knew this as well. While the Vintage Festival allowed Apprentice Mech Designers to showcase their last gen designs, they conducted a strict selection of every applicant.
The only upside to the Festival was that Journeyman Mech Designers disdained to compete on sales at such an event. These well-established mech designers focused more on selling their current gen designs than revisiting soon-to-be-extinct dinosaurs, so not a lot of journeymen bothered to take notice of the event.
The few that did sign up for the Festival mainly wanted to show off their vintage prestige models in the centerpiece exhibition. The majority of the actual sales occurred in the side halls where various hopeful apprentices hoped to make some easy money from their outdated production licenses.
"There's one thing strange about this Vintage Festival. Why would the Vintage Festival which focuses so much on last gen mechs invite younger designers to sell their mechs?"
Some of them hadn't even been born during the golden years of this period. Ves himself barely remembered anything of that generation.
He came up with a number of guesses. The most probable reason was that every enthusiast of last gen mechs already owned genuine vintage models, or simply found them to be old and familiar. Perhaps they wanted to see what the younger crop of mech designers could make out of this old period in mech history.
"Let's see how past Festivals have gone."
When Ves read through the articles of past Vintage Festivals, he got the sense that these middle-aged customers sought two things at once. They wanted to see and purchase great models that brought them back to the past, but they also wanted to see something fresh that proved that last gen mechs hadn't reached the end of the road.
These two desires contradicted each other. Many apprentices either stuck to the base model and tried to reproduce them as faithfully as possible, or designed radical new variants that performed much better than the originals.
The downsides to each approach resulted in poor sales to most apprentices hoping to earn some money. Those that tread familiar ground could never surpass the models fabricated by the original manufacturers. Those that spent a lot of effort designing new variants ended up with models so far removed from last gen mechs that they lost the essence of that period.
Some apprentices tried to take the middle road by making only minor tweaks to the base model, but many visitors shook their heads at these timid attempts to present something remarkable. The mech designer's lack of courage reflected back in their work, which often looked and felt as if designed by a bot.
"It's not easy to persuade the visitors to pull out their wallets. None of these people are easy to please." Ves surmised after reading through the summaries of the public sales reports.
While it didn't include any private transactions with special conditions, many mech designers struggled to make a sale.
Ves hoped to succeed where many others had failed. Unlike the other designers, Ves had a secret weapon. Mechs with an abundant level of X-Factor evoked strong emotion to anyone who saw them. Such machines should make a powerful impact in the sea of mediocre mechs that others put on display.
The entire festival revolved around the themes of nostalgia and authenticity. These were subjective criteria that could only be judged with feeling and emotion, something which Ves had a lot of practice in bending them to his will.
"If I can get this right, I'll have the crowd eating from the palm of my hand."
He decided to apply for the festival.
When Ves looked at the requirements to participate, he found them to be troublesome but attainable. The Vintage Festival only offered a venue to mech designers who were able to deliver. Since Ves owned his own workshop, he possessed ample qualifications to participate.
He only found a snag when he found out that he had to present at least three different models to the organization. The Festival took place about a month later, but the deadline for participation ended only three weeks from now.
"I'll have to work hard to meet this deadline."
Fortunately, his new machines should arrive in time for him to produce an original Caesar Augustus.
Yes, Ves wanted to fabricate the expensive, untarnished original Caesar Augustus. With the imminent arrival of his alloy compressor and CTM, his workshop finally gained the capability to reproduce the base model's highly advanced armor system.
It should be the centerpiece of his presentation. Even though the white elephant flopped on the market, its iconic look and features made it live to see a bright future in the form of toys, action figures and simulator reproductions. Many of the kids and teenagers at that time aspired to pilot this prestigious model.
The main challenge Ves faced with this model was to determine the right feel for this model. He once toured a couple of mech halls on Bentheim and personally witnessed a couple of great examples of the Caesar Augustus.
Each designer or fabricator left their own unique imprint behind in their work. Even though their influence was slight, it still provided the mechs with their own unique flavor. The better designers left a stronger mark behind.
"There's a lot of depth behind each quality reproduction."
The very best copies fabricated by the very best mech designers conveyed a strong blend of flavors that told a rich story. Even though their strength paled in comparison to what Ves could accomplish on his own, their rich experience and untold depths of knowledge provided them with a distinct advantage.
"It's like comparing a candy to a moldy cheese. Even if the candy offers a very strong flavor, those with more sophisticated tastes will prefer the cheese."
Ves had to tread carefully in this matter. If he failed to impress the crowd with his chosen vision, he could say goodbye to any potential sales.
Besides the Caesar Augustus, Ves planned to offer a gold label Marc Antony Mark II as the second model in his application. The Mark II represented a modern, cheaper take on the Caesar Augustus, which should ordinarily not sell very well in an event like the Vintage Festival.
His recent experience with modifying the DarkSpear gave him an idea on how to tackle this problem. He could modify the Mark II both visually and emotionally in order to appeal to the festival goers. Even if it was a longshot, it was worth a try.
"In any case, the Mark II already satisfies the condition."
Besides tinkering with the X-Factor, the two models required no additional work. Ves understood both designs from top to bottom, so he could immediately begin to fabricate them as soon as he received his shipment of raw materials.
"I still have to figure something out for the third model."
While Ves could take the lazy route and offer the old Mark I, he really didn't wish to embarrass himself. The Mark I was vastly inferior to the Mark II and should be consigned to the recycler. His pride as a mech designer refused to consider showing up at the Vintage Festival with the Mark I as an example of his current ability.
That left the most time-consuming option. "I'll have to design a new variant."
Since Ves already planned to offer an original model and a radical variant, he figured he should offer something that fit in between. Even though the Festival disdained such boring machines, Ves felt confident he could break the mold with the help of the X-Factor.
"The less changes I make, the faster I can get this done."
With a time limit of a couple of weeks, Ves couldn't afford to invest his attention on another radical variant. He blamed himself for not checking out these kinds of events sooner. Some of them really provided a good opportunity for him to make some money.
With a tentative plan in place, Ves decided to consult his mech broker and his publicist. As professional marketers, he should listen to their advice.
Chapter 220
When Ves called Marcella and told her of his plan, she responded with a thoughtful look.
"Ordinarily, I'd advise apprentices to stay away from this crowd. The people who purchase mechs at the Vintage Festivals have their heads stuck in the past. What they consider to be a good mech can be very different from what you and I think are good."
Basically, his mech broker called them fanboys and fangirls who exhibited irrational love for last gen mechs. Even if they saw the latest cutting edge mech designed by a renowned master, they'd scoff at their fancy modern features.
"I can't say I understand them, but my unique specialties should appeal to their tastes. I'm confident I can make an impact at the festival."
"You do have that quality." Marcella admitted with a thoughtful expression. "Yes, if you tailor your mechs in a way that amplifies the 'good old days' feel of the last generation, you'll be able to tug at the heartstrings of your customers."
She offered to facilitate his application to participate at the festival. In addition, she promised to staff his booth with some savvy employees who could do the heavy lifting in terms of persuading visitors to purchase his mechs.
Naturally, she also received a cut out of these sales.
Marcella also warned him about a troublesome phenomenon. "One thing you should know is that the customers who attend these festivals will often decide with their guts instead of their brains. Around a third of these people will come to regret their impulse purchase when they sober up. Expect them to call us to cancel their orders."
Ves frowned at that. "Is there any way to stop this? Why not rule out cancellations in the sales contract?"
"That's bad form and prohibited by the MTA. It protects your customers from being bamboozled into signing awful contracts. Your best bet is to have an ample stock of finished mechs that you can ship out immediately. Once your customers get their hands on your mechs, they'll find it a lot harder to demand a refund."
The battle over consumer and producer rights tilted back and forth over the centuries. Currently, the ascendancy of the MTA granted mech manufacturers more protection than before, though their protection only applied if the mechs went through certification.
Uncertified mechs like those that had been assembled on the cheap by taking advantage of the repair scam or pirated licenses enjoyed no such protection. Both the seller and buyer risked getting screwed by each other as no one guaranteed their transaction.
In general, any mech that passed certification carried a guarantee by the MTA that the machine had no defects and hadn't been sabotaged in any way. Once a customer gained possession of such a mech and didn't issue any complaints, he'd be stuck with it from that point onwards.
This meant that he couldn't accidentally crash the mech and demand a refund from the manufacturer afterwards. The mech was sound and didn't carry any defects in terms of navigation or locomotion. The fault lay solely in the mech pilot who trashed the new machine.
"So what you're saying is the only way to prevent more refunds is if I can deliver my mechs as fast as possible?" Ves frowned at the implications.
"The best solution is to fabricate an ample stock of mechs in advance and ship them over to Bentheim. When the festival starts, you can transfer the mechs into the hands of your customers on the very same day. Don't give them time to reconsider their purchase if you want to maximize your earnings."
What his mech broker said made sense, but it represented a very large bet to Ves. If he attended the festival with dozens of models stashed in a warehouse but failed to sell the majority of his stock, he'd be stuck with an awful lot of wasted mechs. Outside of the Vintage Festival, these nostalgia-ridden mechs carried no appeal to regular consumers.
"I won't fabricate more than a single copy of each mech I plan to sell." Ves eventually decided. "Your idea has merit, but my liquid funds can only stretch so far. I'd be using up my entire drawer of cash if I fabricated more copies of the Caesar Augustus or any other comechs."
Comechs stood short for compressed armor mechs. In first and second-rate states, such a term would be redundant, because pretty much every battle mech incorporated some form of compressed armor.
Only in resource-starved third-rate states did people find it necessary to distinguish comechs from unmechs, the unflattering term for cheap mechs built with uncompressed armor.
"That's your decision to make." Marcella responded with a touch of understanding. "Make sure to prepare for an intense period of fabrication. The longer you take to deliver your product, the higher the chance your orders get canceled. If you let your customers wait for months, you will stand to lose a lot of potential earnings."
With the Dortmund printer and his new set of equipment shipped from Leemar, Ves didn't worry too much about this possibility. His workshop would soon be capable of fabricating mechs at a rate of one per day once he mastered the equipment and beefed up the staffing.
After finishing his talk with Marcella, he consulted Gavin to hear from another perspective. His publicist's face turned into an eager expression when he heard how Ves described the clientele.
"I know the type. They're suckers. They're the sort of people who will throw away their entire life savings on a toy that is shiny enough in their eyes. The key is to make your product shine bright enough that they can't see the flaws through all of the glare."
"What do you suggest?"
Gavin had some useful advice to accomplish this feat. "Impose artificial scarcity on the products that you're offering at the festival. Give them enough unique traits and add an exclusive-sounding label like Legacy Edition or Limited Edition and promise not to produce more than ten or so copies of each model. This way, you'll limit the amount of work you have in store and maximize the profits of each individual sale."
His suggestion sounded similar to what Marcella once said. Ves declined to complicate his product offering back then because he didn't want to end up with a messy catalog.
Now that he was awfully short on money, Ves reconsidered his decision. It sounded like an easy way to distinguish his products and the changes he planned to make with the X-Factor. These wouldn't be regular mechs intended for the open market.
Pulling this off required a careful judgment on the amount of copies he intended to sell for each model. Fabricating too many copies diminished the exclusive nature of each design.
However, if he went too far in the other direction, he'd earn a paltry sum even if he managed to boost his profit margin on the few models he sold.
Fortunately, Ves didn't have to figure this out on his own. "Can you analyze the market and determine the optimal amount of mechs to sell? The key is to maximize our earnings, not our profit margin. I need lots of cold hard cash to fund the development of a new design."
"I can do that, but I can only get you the most accurate results if I know how good your designs catch on to your target audience."
"You can develop three scenarios then." Ves suggested. "One where my sales fall flat, one where there is modest interest and one where my models catch fire. We can leave the actual figures ambiguous until we're able to gauge the actual response to my works."
Gavin immediately went to work after receiving his assignment.
As for Ves, before he turned his attention to his new projects, he wanted to catch up to how Jarle Brenthill had been taking his new virtual mech. He opened up his terminal and visited the mech athlete's livestream.
"The Rushing Storm does it again! Another mech down for the count!"
A bombastic battlefield came into view as Jarle's custom mech had just emerged from stealth and rushed to the rear of an enemy squad. Unlike his previous duels, this time Jarle opted to play in one of the larger game modes.
Even if he rushed out alone, the enemy mechs became disarrayed. Ves had tweaked the Festive Cloud Generator to pump up even more vapor, this time dyed in Mosville Blue. The dark blue coloration added an electrifying component to the assassin's mech rush. The rifleman mechs panicked and fired blindly in the direction of the approaching cloud.
The custom mech deftly dodged the direction of their aim. Jarle utilized a complicated spinning pattern to approach the enemy formation from a more vulnerable direction. The instant he approached a rifleman mech, his assassin mech struck with a flurry of deadly stabs, instantly striking all of its weak points.
The moment the rifleman mech got downed, Jarle turned to the next rifleman mech and struck its weapon aside before tearing it apart in a rapid example of battlefield deconstruction. Most of its companions hesitated on shooting back for fear of causing friendly fire. The two melee mechs of the squads tried to race to the rescue but Jarle's machine always seemed to dance away from their reach.
"Is this still an assassin mech?" Ves wondered with puzzlement.
Jarle's performance astounded him. While the custom mech lost its ability to cripple a mech with a single charge, its added agility allowed it to destroy several vulnerable mechs in quick succession before the enemy squad could form a proper response.
Once his momentum started to fade, the custom mech quickly turned around and sped away. The remnants of the enemy squad were in no shape to pursue, allowing Jarle to get away scott-free.
The amazing burst of explosiveness riled up the viewers of the stream. Jarle's viewership enjoyed a remarkable growth since the last time Ves visited the channel. Right now, he drew over two million viewers.
A quick check on his virtual sales dimmed his enthusiasm a bit. The DarkSpear only sold around four-thousand extra virtual copies, far below the growth in viewership. It showed that while the viewers admired Jarle's display of murderous efficiency, they didn't attribute his success to his mech.
Despite this small disappointment, Ves was well on track on reaching his sales target of ten-thousand units sold. "I'll probably reach the maximum in one or two weeks."
Designing a custom mech for Jarle had been worth the effort. For a small bit of work, he accelerated his accumulation of DP by a fair pace.
His online account even received a lot of requests for him to design a custom virtual mech. Ves had no time to engage in this business, but it signaled that Ves had finally gained some renown.
With several projects in store and a lot of potential sales needing to be fulfilled, Ves finally got around to considering expanding his work force.
"It's time to get more manpower by my side."
Ves held several ambitions for his workshop personnel. They didn't need to be too capable, but they must be loyal and able to solve problems on their own. He greatly admired how House Kaine cultivated a capable group of mech technicians to staff their maintenance department. He planned to emulate their model for his own workshop.
"Let's start with hiring ten or so technicians. Any more and my workshop will become crowded."
With only two production lines, Ves expected to face relatively few issues at the beginning. Carlos and Ves had already made do with bots so far. In that regard, hiring mech technicians seems redundant, but once the LMC starts to expand, the extra hands should prove useful.
To keep the mech technicians in line, Ves wanted to put a senior mech technician in charge. The chief technician should have ample experience and ideally plenty of leadership experience.
"It's going to get hard getting my hands on such a gem."
Mech manufacturers treasured these kinds of chief technicians. They possessed both rich experience and sound judgment and could solve a variety of difficult conundrums without asking for help from someone more knowledgeable.
Fortunately, Ves didn't have to take the trouble of seeking one out himself. The Larkinsons nurtured its own army of mech technicians. Perhaps he could snag one from his family's estate.
Ves prepared to call his grandfather.
Chapter 221
His grandfather didn't look surprised when Ves made his request. "Any good mech workshop needs a crew of human hands. It's good of you to realize that. Too many manufacturers are seduced by the total control they have over their bots that they don't realize that their perfect arrangement falls apart once it bumps into an obstacle."
"I already know about the whole automation debate, grandfather. I won't follow in the footsteps of the Terrans."
Pretty much everyone in the galaxy knew about the dangers of relying too much on bots. A few hundred years ago, the Greater Terran United Confederation once thought to replace all menial labor with bots, and reached a remarkable degree of robotization in their society.
All of this went dandy and fine, until some groups of undisciplined dissidents hacked several widespread models of bots, causing widespread destruction and mayhem. Bots went rogue as they attacked the humans they served or caused deliberate fires and explosions.
The unprepared Terrans found to their horror that they depended so much on bots for their everyday life that they could hardly muster a response to the rogue bots.
Even worse was when their battle bots became compromised as well. While they possessed much tighter cybersecurity, rampaging bots had forcefully invaded the headquarters of the companies who made them. The rebels made off with libraries filled with source code and other critical files, which they used to devastating effect.
The so-called Bot Rebellion as it became known had fractured the largely unified humans into disparate islands of calm, as some bulwarks managed to eliminate the bots early. By the time the Terrans managed to get a grip on their own territory, the dream of uniting the human race under a single political entity had been shattered.
"I'll send you one of my chiefs. It will take a lot of persuasion to relocate from Rittersberg to Cloudy Curtain, so you better offer him some good conditions. I suggest you look somewhere closer to fill up the rest of your roster."
"Thank you for that, grandfather. I'll be sure to treat him well."
Ves realized that Benjamin must have made a great sacrifice by parting with one of his chiefs. The Larkinsons always cultivated their own crop of technicians in order to be assured of their loyalty and qualifications. As long as he had a trusted chief watching over his technicians, Ves didn't have to worry about their conduct.
They closed the call after his grandfather estimated that the chief should arrive in a month. Ves figured he'd wait on hiring more mech technicians until then, as he wanted his new chief to make his own selection from the local workforce.
Ves spent the next day preparing his workshop for the new additions. He moved over the existing machines so that it offered enough space for two distinct production lines.
The old production line consisted of his second-hand printer and his second-hand assembly system. While a little slow, the old line sufficed in fabricating unmechs like the Marc Antony Mark II.
The new production line took up a lot more space. The basic production process started with inputting raw materials in the Dortmund printer. Bots brought over the parts it spat out to his new assembly system which should rapidly construct a new frame.
Any parts that required compressed armor went through a few more steps. The Dortmund printer fabricated an embryo which would then be submerged in a special solution in the chemical treatment machine.
Once the formula did its job, the altered embryo would then be put in an alloy compressor which would subject the unfinished piece of alloy to enormous forces. After that, a proper piece of compressed armor should come out of it, which would then be taken to his new assembly system to be put on a mech frame.
Despite the additional steps, Ves envisioned that the new production line should be able to work much faster than the old one. At the start, it might take a couple of days to fabricate a comech. The second one should be finished a little faster, while the third one took even less time.
This went on and on until the learning curve finally flattened. By that time, Ves boldly predicted that the new production line should be able to finish a comech within a single day.
"The most time consuming portions are the chemical treatment and the alloy compression phases. While it's not possible to automate them completely, if I can hire or train a specialist to take charge of these machines, he will be able to optimize their processes."
Perhaps Ves obsessed a little too much on arranging his production lines, but establishing a good flow saved a lot of money and time. It was better to plan his arrangements beforehand than to do it while he had a ton of orders to fulfill.
The next day, a small fleet of transports arrived at his workshop. After his security checked over the goods, Ves finally received the new additions to his workshop.
In order to save time, Ves tasked Carlos with setting up the machines. "While they look sophisticated, they're mostly self-contained so they should work right out of the box. Just run some diagnostics and start a few test projects to make sure they work according to specs."
"Are you sure you want me setting up these expensive machines?" Carlos asked apprehensively. After all, while he didn't know their exact models, they all looked extremely expensive and far beyond what a typical mech boutique should own.
"It's still within the range of your capabilities. Just don't drop anything and you're good to go."
"If you say so, boss."
Ves predicted that Carlos would take a couple of days to insure the machines had been installed correctly. Even if the bots sped up the installation, his fabricator still needed some time to check all of their functions.
In the meantime, Ves decided to start on designing the three models he'd present at the Vintage Festival. Gavin and Marcella sent him different reports that gave him some insight into his target audience.
"They're not simple last gen fanboys."
Many visitors of the Vintage Festival merely wished to relive the past, but the ones with money had more discerning tastes. They should be his actual target segment. After skimming through the reports, Ves got a sense of what kind of product should appeal to their desires.
"Lastgen mechs will soon be used and discarded en masse in the upcoming war. This is the eventual fate for most outdated mechs, but it's a sad outcome nonetheless."
Those in charge intended to send out the last gen mechs to the forefront of the battle because they were expendable. While this was the most logical and efficient decision to make, it nonetheless rested on the assumption that last gen mechs could no longer contribute to society.
This was profoundly disrespectful to the people who developed an affection for this generation.
It was akin to putting a rifle in the hands of their grandparents and shoving them onto the battlefield to die. Now that they've grown old and informed, they serve no other use. Rather than allow them to continue to take up valuable resources, it was better to let them go out with a bang.
Even Ves felt ambivalent about this cold but rational decision. The alternative would be breaking down the mechs and forge new machines out of them, but that required way too much effort.
"Every model only has a limited shelf life. The moment a mech designer finalized a design, its clock had already started ticking."
Mechs generally lasted around twenty years. The visitors of the Vintage Festival disliked the ephemeral nature of their generation.
Ves had thought a lot about their desires. He finally touched upon one of their deepest desires.
"What they truly want is an immortal mech."
Enduring, eternal, immutable. If Ves could design a mech that embodied these ideals, he'd have a bestseller on his hands. His design should intrinsically grow in value as it got older.
"That's going to be a challenge."
Since mechs generally possessed a limited life span, their value always decreased over time. Even if his customers never piloted his models and intended to put them on display, Ves had to ensure its components never decayed in this state.
This should be easy to do, but entails a lot of small modifications. Ves had to replace the more delicate components in his design for durable versions that demanded very little maintenance.
He started with the easiest and most familiar design, the Marc Antony Mark II. Ves recalled the images he used to form its X-Factor and reused them in their original conditions except for one small addition. He added an underlying tone of continuity and perpetuity to their flavors.
After composing the altered images, Ves went to work on modifying his design. He already knew which components needed replacing, so he hardly wasted any time. It took only two days to rip out all of the disposable components and replace them with hardier versions.
The work hardly required a lot of thought, but Ves spent some time on testing his altered design to make sure it retained its functionality. While the mech still possessed elements that degraded over time, it should be manageable if their owners performed sporadic maintenance.
"I can't go too far in this direction." Ves carefully reminded himself. "Mechs that focus so much on longevity tend to turn into empty shells that fall apart once they enter the battlefield."
Even if the customers at the Vintage Festival bought the mechs to serve as collectables, they should still be able to fulfill their primary function. Mechs that lost their fighting capability lacked the authenticity that the festival goers demanded.
"Let's call this the Eternal Edition."
The Mark II Eternal Edition cost a bit more to build as Ves replaced some of its cheaper materials with more expensive ones. Other than that, the mech should still match the specs of the regular design. Only its X-Factor should be different. Ves couldn't wait to fabricate a show model to experience its aura.
He had to order a new batch of raw materials to fabricate the Eternal Edition. While his order would be sent on the next convoy shipment to Cloudy Curtain, Ves turned his attention to his second project, the original Caesar Augustus.
A complex mood settled into his body as he called up a projection of the original design. "Just a year ago, I merely dreamed of being able to work with this design directly."
Carlos already made good progress with setting up his new production line. Soon, the Living Mech Corporation would be able to fabricate comech designs like the Caesar Augustus at a decent scale.
It represented a step up for his company and added to its prestige.
That said, Ves didn't plan on doing any business with the regular design outside the Festival. The demand for every last gen model had declined so it made little sense to add yet another soon-to-be-obsolete design to his product catalog.
Working with Caesar Augustus required a bit more effort from Ves. From a technical standpoint, Ves already knew what to tweak or replace. He mainly placed his concerns on its X-Factor.
"How can I shape the X-Factor of a design that's not my own?"
Perhaps the original design never carried any meaningful X-Factor at all. Nevertheless, the design still carried a touch of Jason Kozlowski in his younger years.
Ves had to respect the intentions of the original designer while simultaneously putting his own spin on its classic design.
Fortunately, his familiarity with his design allowed him to come up with a suitable vision for his Eternal Edition. Since it served as the centerpiece of his display, it should carry forth the original model's aspirations to serve as a leader and a rallying cry on the battlefield.
Since he only planned to do some minor modifications, Ves thought it was inappropriate to use the Triple Division technique. The design belonged to Jason Kozlowski and Ves didn't wish to tarnish the touch he left behind.
Instead, he intended to amplify its core concepts of hope and authority while adding a touch of eternity to the mixture. With his mental strength, Ves expected to achieve a remarkable result once he finished the modified design.
"Let's get to work."
Chapter 222
Ves successfully blended his new vision onto a very slightly tweaked design. With this, the Caesar Augustus Eternal Edition should be ready for fabrication once he got the raw materials.
This time, Ves had to wince as he ordered another batch of materials to add to his existing orders. Compressed armor always used up more exotics. With the rising cost of resources, his total cost had ballooned to 50 million credits!
"I can barely make a profit out of this model if I only charge a normal price."
At least he gained something from this effort. His understanding of this old design had deepened, which should prove useful for his next project.
With two Eternal Editions down, Ves turned his attention to the third design, a comech variant of the Caesar Augustus. Having worked on several different variants of this design gave him a unique impression of what it could do.
"It's a mech designed for heroic leaders. It's not a coincidence the coating is brilliant white. This mech is designed to inspire."
While that sounded great, Ves put some questions on whether this scenario actually occurred since the model's release.
What mech designers cook up in their imagination might not translate into practical designs. The Caesar Augustus embodied this phenomenon. The model became larger than life due to the hopeful dreams that propelled its design. In a certain perspective, it represented a high note of the last generation of mechs.
Figuring this out reignited his own passion and love for mech design. He summed up the underlying intent of this design. "Mechs don't always have to be realistic. What's wrong with a little fantasy?"
Granted, such a naive approach to mech design rarely led to critical success. The mech market centered around fulfilling their practical demands such as delivering high performance for a reasonable cost. The bloated Caesar Augustus failed to reach the heights its designer originally aimed for, and suffered for it upon its debut.
Ves wanted to chart his own path.
The Mark II had been designed with practicality and cost-efficiency in mind, while the Caesar Augustus revolved around hope. Ves wished to design a variant that embodied his own ideals instead of adhering to the demands of the market or the original designer.
An inkling of magnitude crept up in his mind. Ves faintly realized this decision affected his design philosophy. Even though Ves only grasped a glimpse of what seniors and masters referred to as design philosophy, he knew its development formed the key to advancing to their level.
"The way these people talk about design philosophy makes it clear it's not about mentality alone." Ves surmised after he recalled the few instances where older mech designers stressed the importance of developing a design philosophy. "It involves some sort of higher state of being."
Ves had the sense that it functioned similar to the X-Factor and that it involved some sort of metaphysics. From what he heard, a well-developed design philosophy enabled a mech designer to develop a design that functioned beyond the boundaries of common science. The more advanced Journeyman-level textbooks occasionally hinted at such.
"Design philosophy and the X-Factor may even be different roads that lead to the same destination. Is this why AIs haven't taken over the job of designing mechs?" He mused.
The technology to allow computers to design mechs on their own existed for a long time. Even then, it never caught on. Design philosophy should be one of the main reasons why AIs could never match a human mind.
"Enough distractions."
Ves shook his head and turned his attention back to his design. For his third model, Ves wanted to embody his own principles. So far, his principles aspired to bring mechs to life.
He summed up his end goal. "People should look at my design and mistake it for a living entity."
His mechs didn't need to be autonomous sentient beings like some living AI. After all, he designed mechs, not robots. The difference between the two was that mechs functioned best when paired with a human pilot. Ves aimed to enhance the piloting experience by enriching the mech with lifelike qualities.
A wonderful synergy should result with this pairing. What Jarle pulled off with his customized DarkSpear should only be the tip of the spear of what Ves ultimately wanted to bring into existence.
This time Ves decided to go with an understated X-Factor for his third model. Ves didn't wish to overshadow the Caesar Augustus Eternal Edition, which ought to play the leading role in his display.
He quickly hit a snag. "How can I design a mech that's both eternal but also alive?"
Something that lived went through various phases of life. They grew stronger from the moment of their birth and declined in strength once they reached their peak. Something with a finite lifespan did not fit well with a mech that was supposed to be eternal.
He turned to a simple solution. In his imagination, anything was possible, even eternity. Ves envisioned an Immortal Sage, a being out of ancient myth just like the Instructor.
The man used to be a warrior at youth, achieving plenty of merits that fueled his career into officialdom. Through hard work and smart decisions, he achieved a higher status, eventually vaulting to a ministry before deciding to retire.
Even then, he continued to guide his country towards prosperity. Stepping back from power granted him a sober perspective on many matters. Through constant deduction and self-reflection, his mind experienced a cleansing that elevated him to immortality.
"I like this image." He smiled.
This time, he used it as the central component of his Triple Division technique. The base role remained a hybrid knight while the totem animal consisted of a mythical undying turtle.
After a few hours of composing an appropriate background for all of his images, he mashed them all together.
Surprisingly, the images didn't come to blows. The Immortal Sage and the undying turtle minded their own business. Only the hybrid knight showed some aggression but failed to uncover any openings. The two sagely images both collaborated with each other, holding the hybrid knight at bay.
"This isn't supposed to happen."
He deliberately strengthened the Sage and allocated only a limited amount of mental strength to the other two images. Ves wanted the Sage to stomp over the other two and absorb their essense in order to evolve its own.
Life threw a wrench in that plan.
"It's best not to force the situation further." He concluded. "It's my own fault for making the Immortal Sage so enlightened."
Ves went to work on a template of the Caesar Augustus with his tentative images. He couldn't help but overhaul large portions of its crowded interior. The solutions he developed for the Marc Antony Mark II could also be applied to the base model.
He made sure not to go too far, both because the frames ultimately differed in many aspects. Different armor systems led to different weight distribution and support. Ves had to figure out plenty of new solutions to simplify the internals.
Just like with the other two designs, this time Ves aimed to enhance the mech's longevity. He borrowed some of the solutions he applied on the original Caesar Augustus, saving him a lot of time.
In total, Ves spent just over a week to refine his third design. As it came into its own identity, the design already started to evoke a strong sense of life, wisdom and immortality.
As a final touch, Ves added in the Festive Cloud Generator in the form of a rolling purple cape instead of a head crest. It added to his variant's role as a ruler instead of a warrior.
"Let's call this one the Marcus Aurelius."
The Ancient Roman emperor in Old Earth's history had been regarded as something of a sage. As Ves was no expert of this time period, he merely picked the first suitable name the galactic net spat out. It sounded stately enough to convey the right emotions.
The Marcus Aurelius functioned more as a symbol rather than a war machine. While Ves maintained its capability to do battle, he much rather preferred to see it prosper in times of peace.
Ves passed over the design to the System for evaluation. He already knew how well his latest design performed, so he skimmed over most of the report. The only thing that mattered to Ves was its X-Factor.
In this regard, the System granted the design a score of C+, well below his expected target.
"Oh come on, System! Just because the images didn't cannibalize each other doesn't mean my design is any worse than the DarkSpear!"
The System stayed silent of course, but even if it knew the answer, Ves had to figure things out on his own.
Obviously, a higher quality X-Factor required some kind of interaction with his images. Allowing them to fight to the death should only be one way to spur an evolution. Ves wondered if he could get his images to evolve through voluntary synthesis.
"It's something to consider for the next time."
Right now, Ves finished his design work. All he had to do was fabricate the show models of all three designs in order to meet the requirements to participate in the Vintage Festival.
The raw materials for the Eternal Editions of the Mark II and the Caesar Augustus had already arrived. By the time he finished fabricating the show models of both designs, the resources to fabricate the Marcus Aurelius should also be shipped to his workshop.
"Carlos!" Ves called when he entered the workshop floor.
"Yes, boss?"
"Set aside your current project and help me fabricate my three show models. I've just finished their design and I'm itching to see if they measure up in reality."
"That's great!"
The two went about their work with infectious enthusiasm. Ves took the lead this time because he wanted to ensure the X-Factor for each of the models remained pure. He merely let Carlos fetch some materials or arrange some minor details to speed up the work. His employee lacked the mental strength to compete against his boss in this aspect.
The Eternal Edition of the Mark II only took a day to complete. With their extreme familiarity of the LMC's only production model, they hardly needed to pause as they used the Dortmund printer and the new assembly system to put a mech together.
Ves left the mech aside after inspecting its X-Factor. It had indeed gained a smidgen of eternity compared to his other gold label mechs, but the difference was rather small. Its design still retained something of a workhorse quality Ves had conveyed in his original vision for the Mark II.
"I should get a better result with the other two models."
This would be the first time his workshop fabricated a mech clad with compressed armor. While Ves had fabricated the fabrication of the Caesar Augustus in a virtual environment, that gave little comfort to him. Virtual fabrication only provided him with a simplified experience in an excessively ideal environment.
Only a little more than a week remained until the deadline for entry passed. Ves had to work briskly in order to make it in time.
"Let's begin."
Over a week-long period, Ves fabricated both the Caesar Augustus Eternal Edition and the Marcus Aurelius in back-to-back sessions that stretched on for many hours.
Ves faced very few difficulties with fabricating their internals, which shared many commonalities with the internals of the Mark II. He only encountered difficulties when he started fabricating compressed armor plating.
The formula used in the formation of the extremely resilient armor demanded an extreme amount of precision. Ves constantly had to watch the chemical treatment machine and the alloy compressor to make sure they applied their processes evenly.
Flat plates required relatively little effort to ensure their quality, but the process became more complicated once he started with the curved ones. Their uneven shapes added a lot of extra work for Ves as he had to find the right settings to allow the processes to seep into the plating without major deviations.
Ves barely completed the fabrication of the two expensive models within the deadline. As a final touch, Ves added in a couple of random gems with minor effects. With his growing sum of DP, he could easily afford the 100 DP it took to add an anonymous stamp to Lucky's gems.
When Ves stored the models side-by-side in an expanded store room, he became bewitched by their mutually reinforcing auras.
Any single model represented a treasure by itself, but when they were put together, they achieved a qualitative transformation that even Carlos couldn't ignore.
"Why do I get the feeling that your show models are hiding something big?" Carlos asked with puzzlement.
Ves smiled at his employee's remark. "You have no idea how special these models are. They're eternal."
Chapter 223
The Vintage Festival accepted his entry when he applied.
Properly speaking, Ves had to bring his show models to Bentheim before the deadline expired, but the person in charge of applications bent the rules for him. It only took a day or two until the next convoy shipped the models to Bentheim.
Ves left the arrangements of his booth to Marcella, who in turn delegated the job to her subordinates. These same people would also be staffing his booth and taking care of his sales once the festival began.
"Their role in this event is to facilitate the sales process." Marcella explained over the comm. "While you don't need to be present at all times, it will be helpful if you stick to your booth and explain your designs to anyone who shows any interest in purchasing a mech. Oftentimes, a customer can be swayed to purchase your products if you present yourself as a reputable mech designer."
"Will you be there as well?"
"I'm not going to make it." Marcella shook her head. "I'm negotiating on behalf of another client on a major order. Sorry kid, but you're still small-time as far as I'm concerned."
Fair enough. While Marcella earned a generous cut with her current contract, it didn't amount to much in absolute terms. While he recently expanded the LMC's production capabilities, it only sold a handful of Mark II's a month, far below the standards of a typical medium-scale mech manufacturer.
After saying goodbye, Ves turned his attention back to his workshop. "I should prepare for an intensive round of fabrication."
His words betrayed the confidence he held in his Eternal series. Their craftsmanship surpassed anything that Ves had produced so far. When the three models stood side-by-side, their X-Factor emanated a formless pressure that threatened to engulf the entire storage space!
"I won't believe my models will flop."
Ves gambled a lot on their success. Already, his company's savings account diminished by a whopping 120 million credits. He had no other choice but to spend the money on the raw materials to fabricate the show models. If he couldn't even manage to sell the original models, he'd be stuck with a couple of extremely expensive statues.
"All I can do now is wait."
The Festival started in a couple more weeks, leaving Ves plenty of time to get his company in order.
First, he optimized his new production line. His previous bout of fabrication exposed some flaws in his arrangements that could prove dangerous down the line. Ves nipped the latent problems in the bud and ensured that all of the machines worked properly.
By this time, their first shady orders had arrived. Dietrich arranged for some nondescript companies with boring names such as Ellis and Johnson Security or Armature Inc. to place some random component orders to the LMC. Superficially, they all appeared to be legitimate companies that all owned mechs but needed urgent replacements.
Ves wasn't fooled. They all stood for shadier organizations that wanted to make use of his workshop's unregistered and unmonitored Dortmund printer to fabricate a whole swathe of mech parts. Much of the orders his company received consisted of complex parts that regular printers couldn't handle.
Still, his Dortmund printer should provide enough assistance to Carlos that he'd be able to handle the majority of the orders by himself. Ves only took care of the most difficult orders which consisted of various compressed armor plating.
"I still think this is a bad idea. The more we fabricate, the more we become involved." Carlos repeated to Ves. "I don't want to wake up with a gun pointed at my head one day."
Ves idly waved away his concern. "Relax, Carlos. It's safe here in Cloudy Curtain. It's ten times worse if I decided to set my business up in Bentheim."
Even if he exaggerated a bit, his words possessed an element of truth. Managing your relations with the local gangs had often been considered as the cost of doing business in Bentheim.
Frankly, the sheer amount of shady activities that went on in the port system exposed the Republic's weakness. Its relatively loose grasp on society allowed an abundance of bad actors to settle between its gaps.
The weeks went by in a blur. Even the challenge of fabricating the exotic orders didn't fase Ves much. He left Carlos with the rest of the workload and boarded his corvette which held two packed mechs, Melkor's Stanislaw and Raella's Vektrix.
Ves learned his lesson. Instead of hoping for the best, he prepared for the worst. After the last incident on Bentheim, his family arranged a permit for him to travel around with a mech escort.
He didn't leave his fate to chance and made more preparations. He contracted Sanyal-Ablin to provide armed transportation and additional security at the festival. The Coalition security company eagerly accepted the job after Ves paid them a hefty sum.
Raella, Melkor and Lucky accompanied him aboard the Barracuda. By now, Raella recovered fully from her poisoning and showed eagerness to get back into shape. Even the bad memories she got from her last trip to Bentheim didn't dim her enthusiasm to get out in the galaxy.
"Hopefully nothing happens this time." Raella remarked as she sipped a special nutrient-rich solution at the lounge. "It's annoying to fight against enemies who hide in the dark."
Ves pursed his lips in dissatisfaction. "Who can say? At least the chaos on Bentheim has subsided a bit. The Mech Corps did a good job rooting out the BLM from their hiding holes."
"Yeah, but the damage is already done."
The Bentheim Liberation Movement sabotaged a lot of critical infrastructure that kept the mech industry going. The disruption in supply chains led to far-reaching consequences to the companies down the line. Nobody enjoyed the sudden rise in costs.
Worse, many manufacturers went out of business due to their inability to generate a profit in these circumstances. This led to a significant amount of layoffs, putting many low-level laborers on the street.
This in turn fueled the indignity against the central government. Rather than blaming the BLM for disrupting the economy, they would rather lay the blame on the elites at Rittersberg.
On that depressing note, the Barracuda swiftly reached the Bentheim System in less than half a day. As his pilot and navigator Miranda Pham became increasingly more familiar with the corvette, her ability to plot a faster transition improved.
"Navigating gravitic space takes a lot of judgment." Captain Silvestra explained to Ves when he asked about the difference. "Laymen often confuse FTL travel for taking a shortcut in a dimension where distances are shorter. We're actually shifting to a range of upper dimensions where spacetime exhibits slight differences from one dimension to the next."
The key to reducing transit time lay in a ship's ability to plow the same route over and over to explore the most efficient set of upper dimensions. What complicated this process was that substantial differences in mass and volume led to different transition times.
A slow, lumbering shuttle generally did better if it kept to the lower range of dimensions, while a fast corvette like the Barracuda preferred a higher range. Ships that tried to transition into a range beyond their capacity risked being torn apart by the differences in forces exerted at various points of their hulls.
Fortunately, interstellar travel to a port system like Bentheim posed much fewer risks than normal. Their journey went without a hitch and the Barracuda effortlessly descended into the atmosphere until it reached Marcella's private mech yard.
A smartly-dressed auburn-haired woman welcomed Ves and his companions to Bentheim with a smile. "Mr. Larkinson, it's a pleasure to meet you! My name is Antje Livinis. I'm the sales manager for Bollinger Mech Trade. Miss Bollinger has put me in charge of your sales force for the upcoming festival."
After Ves shook her dainty little hand, he regarded her with a curious expression. Unlike Bollinger who exhibited the muscular physique of an ex-veteran mech pilot, Antje looked like a fairy. That must help a lot in the business as many clients probably underestimated her poise.
"Have you seen my show models yet?"
"Oh, yes! They're absolutely fabulous!" Antje gushed with genuine enthusiasm. "They're as impressive as the artisan models in the museums! I don't know how you managed to design them like that, but if you're able to reproduce the same sensation in your production models, then I expect you'll be making a hefty amount of business."
Even though she praised his craftsmanship, she also put a couple of question marks in his ability to replicate the show models with all of their qualities intact.
"I can assure you that my fabrication skills are up to par. I can easily match their qualities in my subsequent production."
Even though the sales manager still held doubts, she chose to believe him. As a sales manager who handled a lot of routine business for Marcella, Antje had already become familiar with his Mark II. Even the silver label mechs that Carlos fabricated every week contained a smidgen of X-Factor.
Technically, the Eternal series consisted of gold label mechs, and they displayed the traits typical to this exclusive range. Even if Antje couldn't quite put her finger on why the models impressed her so much, she knew that people would pay a lot of money to own a mech that could radiate such pressure.
"Too bad my publicist Gavin isn't able to attend. He'd love to discuss the details with you."
Gavin and Calsie only worked part-time at the LMC while they focused on their studies. They still had a year to go before they graduated from the local university in Freslin.
Ves shared the virtual documents that Gavin compiled to Antje. It turned out that the sales manager performed her own analysis on his projected sales, though she didn't come up with three different scenarios.
She smiled at him. "I know the sort of people who attend this festival, and I think it's very likely your models will catch on. I think it's not too far-fetched if we assume the most optimistic scenario will take place."
Gavin's optimistic scenario envisioned a huge demand for his Eternal Edition mechs. Under the assumption that there would always be more customers, he came up with a complicated pricing scheme for each model during the four-day festival.
The Mark II Eternal Edition started sales at a whopping 40 million credits, with a limit of ten models sold each day. The limit ensured that his company wouldn't be burdened by endless orders that risked being canceled after a couple of months.
The Caesar Augustus Eternal Edition sold at an even more incredulous price tag of 80 million credits, with only three models sold per day. Gavin predicted that many collectors wanted to own this model in the optimistic scenario, thus he jacked up the price to almost twice its production cost.
As for the Marcus Aurelius, nobody knew if anyone wanted it more than the Caesar Augustus. Due to its uniqueness and exclusivity, Gavin decided to hold a daily auction over this model. This allowed them to avoid setting a fixed price for this esoteric model.
That could either go good or bad depending on its appeal. Antje clearly questioned the need to hold an auction. "Your design is rather conservative for a variant. On paper, it's nothing impressive, though I admit it does make you forget about it once you see it in the flesh. My main concern is that others won't see it that way and refuse to raise their bids."
Failed auctions showed that Ves had overestimated the value of his designs. If he couldn't match or surpass the standard price of a Caesar Augustus, then his reputation in the mech industry could take a hit.
Ves stuck to his guns. "I'm willing to take the bet."
He charged high prices for his designs because they carried something unique. His entry into the Vintage Festival formed something of a trial balloon. Ves wanted to gauge whether the public had any stomach for mechs enhanced by the X-Factor. The LMC's entire business model rested on the outcome of this event.
Chapter 224
The Vintage Festival took place in a city called Ansel. Situated far away from the bustling metropolis of Dorum, Ansel offered more established mech designers a place to do their business. It became particularly renowned for its Ansel University of Mech Design, an educational institution solely dedicated to teaching the art of mech design.
Even though Ves studied mech design at the Rittersberg University of Technology, in truth its mech design course wasn't all that great. The AUMD held a lot more prestige in the mech industry due to its deep connections to the local mech industry.
A tight network of influential alumni regularly contributed to the prestigious school with lectures, tours, internships and even exclusive textbooks. Each student who graduated from Ansel's mech design course received numerous lucrative opportunities that gave them a head-start in the industry.
A fleet of armored shuttles escorted by several mechs on foot reached the city after several hours of travel. Many other transports heading to Ansel enjoyed protection so the fleet attracted little attention.
Ves left his shuttle after they arrived at the local convention center. Meanwhile, Raella and Melkor stayed in their mechs and went ahead to his show booth. The organization allowed Ves a single armed guard to accompany him.
"Looks like we made it in time." He said while carrying Lucky.
Not a lot of people had arrived in the morning. Ansel's distance from Dorum led to fewer visitors who decided to stop by on a whim. This ensured that the majority of the visitors held some actual interest in the theme.
The convention center consisted of a massive white-faced main hall with three different side halls spread in equal directions. The whole layout resembled a cross, with one leg bigger than the rest.
Every mech designer converged at the main hall first. Before the festival began, the managing director had some words to say. Ves entered the bright white walls illuminated both by Bentheim's sun and some added light sources. Gleaming metallic mechs in various shapes and sizes glistened in the light, mesmerizing all who entered this opened halls.
Many of these honored last gen mechs came from local hands. The neatly projected captions made it clear that half of their designers graduated from the AUMD. Even with the benefit of bias, Ves knew that all of the designs deserved their places of honor.
When he reached the end of the hall, Ves joined his fellow mech designers circling a stage. All of them stood still, mesmerized by the mech elevated to the highest place of honor.
"No way! That's the Reckoner!" A mech designer who just entered after Ves screamed out. "How can one be here?!"
The Reckoner was one of this generation's famed artillery mechs. Designed and sold in the heartland sectors of the galaxy, it turned into an iconic sight in the last forty years among the second-rate states that could afford it. Many of the mech designers present in the hall had never seen one in the flesh.
With its eight heavy spider legs and its relatively flat torso, the mech had been designed as a low-profile artillery platform. It only really possessed one single weapon, a thick, extendable howitzer that fired off massive explosive shells or railgun projectiles depending on its configuration.
Entire cities turned to ruin after a single Reckoner unleashed its entire payload. All of this the artillery mech accomplished many kilometers away. In truth, its heavy cannons barely stayed within the limits of acceptable firepower.
What impressed the designers here the most besides its presence here was its age. Various marks and scratches marred its faded camouflage coating. Even though Ves did not detect any substantial X-Factor, its worn-out components gave the Reckoner a special feeling of a machine that did its duty but was tired of the job.
An hour went by as mech designers kept converging around the Reckoner. It must be the most expensive mech at the festival by far. Even Ves didn't dare to put a price on this mech. It was worth its weight in exotics as pretty much all of its components incorporated them in their construction.
As Ves patiently waited for the manager to arrive, Ves received a distinctive ping from his comm. He looked up his device and saw one of his apps informing him that another Society member was among the crowd.
The other member received the same notification and chose to home in on Ves. Minutes later, an elderly looking man approaches Ves. "Knight Larkinson? My name is Reesc McDonnell, a Squire of the Clifford Society."
Ves shook hands with the elderly squire with a bemused expression. He couldn't quite get a grip on a Squire as old as Reesc. Every other Squire he encountered at Leemar only had a couple of years on him. The man sensed his confusion and smiled.
"Don't be so surprised. The Squires you've met at Leemar are mostly recent graduates that are trying to keep their options open. Those of us who come from outside Coalition space often blind themselves to the challenges of competing against actual Coalition citizens. Most of them will return to their home states after years of fruitless effort."
Unspoken in his explanation was that Reesc had likely been one of these dreamers. After finding out that his skills barely impressed the elitist Coalition citizens, he packed up his bags and shuffled back to the Republic in order to make a living. The fact that he languished as a Squire up to when his hair turned gray meant that Reesc didn't deserve any respect.
"My apologies. I'm not used to seeing older Society members." Ves replied. "As you've said, those that gathered at Leemar still have a full life ahead of them. If I hadn't already had plans, I might have lingered at Leemar as well."
They chatted a bit about their mech careers. Like Ves, Reesc entered a competition held by Leemar and managed to reach a notable rank. However, his foundation didn't amount to much, and he only reached the top 500 by sheer luck. Even after he gained access to the Star Library, Reesc never got to read a lot of books.
"Merits are simply too hard to come by!" The old man lamented. "I don't have anything to trade, so the only way I got them is by doing these tedious long-term missions. Even then, they only pay a handful of merits after you slave away for years. It's completely impossible to earn enough merits this way!"
While he agreed with Reesc's complaints, Ves pointed out an alternative. "Haven't you considered taking one of the riskier missions? They pay quite well for a couple of months of work."
"Absolutely not! The pay is better, but the conditions are awful! Mech designers like us belong behind a desk, not on some hostile alien planet while shells are raining down above our heads! Leave the battlefield work to the people who signed up to fight!"
As Reesc chatted about his lack of opportunities, Ves increasingly came to dislike the stodgy Squire. The elderly mech designer had a golden opportunity to develop his skills and knowledge through trading merits for access to textbooks, and what did Reesc do? He squandered decades of his life performing the safest and most unrewarding missions imaginable!
Ves finally welcomed the arrival of the managing director. Everyone hushed their conversation and even Reesc had to shut his mouth. Everyone stared beneath the legs of the Reckoner as a small platform lifted upwards from below.
A much more distinguished gentleman appeared on stage. The man looked at the hundreds of mech designers gathered here today and nodded in satisfaction.
"It pleases me to see so many of you take part in my festival." The director began. "The last generation of mechs may slowly be forgotten, but our memories of this remarkable period will live on. Our job is to remind the public that the last generation will never be consigned to the archives!"
Everyone cheered in unison at those words, though Ves doubted everyone present here agreed with the director. He had the feeling that at least half of the mech designers had no other choice but to attend in order to make some last bit of money out of their aging production licenses.
The director went on to explain some practical matters after his opening. The organizers held different events each day in the main hall. For the most part, only Journeyman Mech Designers qualified to participate in the main exhibitions, so Ves turned out the speech. He was mostly here to sell mechs instead of trying to gain prestige.
Once the director reached the end of his speech, the mech designers dispersed. The main hall became open to the general public, where the managing director officially marked the opening of the festival.
"I don't need to be here."
Like Ves, many of the Apprentices decided not to linger and headed to their booths in the side halls. As he walked to his booth, he glanced at the show models along the way.
Most of them appeared familiar to Ves. While he couldn't name their exact models, the Apprentices mostly licensed the same designs. All of them were prevalent in Republic space.
As with previous years, the quality of the show models left something to be desired. The harsh reality of setting up a business among thousands of competitors left many mech designers at the brink of their finances. A significant number of show models consisted of bottom-tier frontline mechs. Some even sold for as low as five million credits!
Ves thanked his lucky stars that he ended up with a better start when his father gifted him the System.
Once Ves arrived at his booth, he beheld his three show models. The Mark II Eternal Edition, the Caesar Augustus Eternal Edition and the Marcus Aurelius all displayed their full glory with pride. The similarity between the three models betrayed their common origin, but the distinctive traits that Ves imparted in them allowed them to develop their own distinctive look.
"Wow! Who made these models?"
"Who would be so extravagant to license a comech?! Do you know how much it costs to fabricate a single of these machines?!"
"Whoever's bored enough to work with the Caesar Augustus design must be a moneybags or something!"
A dozen mech designers who occupied the booths next to the one reserved by Ves had gathered over. Compared to the Caesar Augustus and its illustrious variants, their cheap mechs looked like ugly ducklings before a swan. Some of the designers grew jealous, hence the mildly snide remarks.
"Make way please! This is my booth!"
When Ves appeared behind their midst, the mech designers turned around. More than half of them became astonished at his age, while the rest figured that he was some sort of scion of a rich and powerful family. No matter their thoughts, they all smothered their words and politely parted aside.
"It's a pleasure to meet you! Where did you get your production licenses? Did you pay them on your own?"
"Are you interested in collaborating with us on a joint project? We'll give you the majority share!"
Ves mostly ignored the solicitations from his colleagues. At his level, he stopped taking notice of these low-tier designers. Even if they reached the Apprentice level through their talents or connections, they obviously didn't have much of a future like Reesc.
He turned around and regarded the crowd with a forceful expression. "Please disperse! You're blocking the way for my customers! The festival is just about to start, so you'll have plenty of time to admire my designs!"
A couple of designers found fault with his attitude.
"Who are you to tell us what to do?!"
"I'm older than you! When you were still in diapers, I'd already graduated with a degree in mech design!"
Ves didn't fall for their trap. He stared at them wordlessly while holding a glowering Lucky. His dour face and his lack of response gave his fellow colleagues no opportunities to seek some benefits from him. They eventually walked away with bitter expressions.
After he put down Lucky to let his pet stroll about, Ves approached Antje who supervised the placement of the final props. Various projectors, posters, simulator pods and other gadgets occupied his spacious booth, all of which enhanced the shopping experience.
"Don't you think you brought too much stuff?" Ves asked with worry. In his eyes, all of these devices attracted attention away from his model.
Antje shook her head. "Your show models don't seem to have any difficulties attracting attention. You should worry more about catching the attention of your potential customers from admiring your designs."
Marcella's protege sounded a lot more optimistic than before. "Do you think they'll really catch on with the crowd?"
"I can guarantee you they will. Compared to the mechs of your neighbors, yours are the only decent ones in range. The contrast will heighten the appeal of your products."
Her words certainly rang true. Ves couldn't help but let out a smile as he looked forward to meeting his first customers.
Chapter 225
The traffic started pouring in after an hour into the festival. Most of the early visitors consisted of average people who wanted to avoid the crowded main hall. The opening ceremony started off with a bang. If not for the main hall's excellent isolation, the side halls would have been inundated with music and cheers.
Ves got a notion of how well his show models attracted attention when he noticed a lot of foot traffic heading in his direction. Only around ten percent of the show models in the hall consisted of premium mechs.
The Caesar Augustus drew the most attention, but the Marcus Aurelius also held a certain appeal. A loose variety of visitors arrived at his booth to gawk at the expensive models up close.
"They're just like the masterwork models at the show halls!"
"What is this design? The Caesar Augustus?"
"Oh. Let's go then. I heard the Augustus was a flop."
"Are you kidding? You're blind if you call this mech a flop! Just look at the details of this machine!"
Ves couldn't tell if the X-Factor or the rarity of his show models had a bigger influence on the crowd. Whatever the case, more than two dozen people of varying walks of life quickly congregated around his booth.
To his regret, none of them looked like potential customers. They ranged from couples hauling along their kids to career mech pilots on leave. Their clothing and lack of escorts made it clear that they didn't have the credits to spend on something as extravagant as a mech.
Even if they didn't spend a single credit on his products, Ves didn't care too much. The day had only started and peak time came later.
The constant number of people lingering at his booth attracted the attention of others who wanted to see what the fuss was about. His models gained a steady amount of exposure.
The kids and the adults who grew up during the golden period of the last generation worshiped his spin on the Caesar Augustus. The Eternal Edition's glorious aura infected their minds with fanciful delusions where they imagined playing the hero.
The Marcus Aurelius on the other hand appealed to the older crowd. Compared to the bright and vivid Caesar Augustus, the sage-like mech exuded an aura of peaceful timelessness. That turned off those who craved constant action, but it put the elderly folk at peace as they thought about the legacies they left behind.
Only the Mark II Eternal Edition proved to be a disappointment. Its aggressive aura paled in comparison to glory exuded by the Caesar Augustus, while its inferior quality and cost condemned it to the role of a sidekick.
While Ves found it unfair for his cheapest model, he still hoped for a change in fortune. Once the people with money arrived, its price tag should warrant the forgotten mech second look.
The only unexpected surprise he encountered had to do with his virtual mechs. The recent promotion of his DarkSpear also had a knock-on effect on the recognition of his other designs.
"Will you be selling a dagger assassin like the one you designed for Jarle?" A young man asked.
"Jarle's custom mech is an exclusive design. He won't be happy if I make more copies available." Ves patiently explained. "Besides, I made a lot of expert tweaks on its design that make it exceedingly difficult to pilot for the average player. Only a top pilot with lightning-fast reaction speeds can get a grip on its controls."
The man and a few other fans looked disappointed at his answer, but Ves had no choice. He signed a contract with Jarle that stipulated that his mech should be the only virtual copy of its design.
Frankly, Ves got a little bored of the mundane questions. Very few festival goers showed any serious interest in purchasing his models.
Occasionally some other mech designers visited his booth. Their jealousy flared up when they watched the steadily growing numbers crowding at his booth. The organizers even stationed a couple of extra guards in the area to keep them well-behaved.
Sometimes they tried to argue with Ves about his design choices.
One skinny designer took stock with one of his designs and made his objections loud and clear. "Hey! You made a mistake with this mech! The arms are protruding forward too much! Don't you know how to balance a mech?"
Ves grew a little angry at the ignorant remark. When he turned around to reply, Antje quickly held his arm.
"Don't argue with trolls. You'll only feed them. You'll never be able to win a debate against someone who is set out to make trouble in public."
The reminder cooled his head, allowing him to regain his rationality. Antje had a point. He had everything to lose and nothing to gain by arguing in public. Still, his pride as a mech designer made it difficult to ignore the blow.
Antje whispered something into her communicator. "Look. Security is already handling the issue. They won't allow the festival to be spoiled by ignorant loudmouths."
A couple of security guards took hold of the designer and quickly hauled him away.
"Hey! Unhand me you muscle heads! I'm a highly successful mech designer! My mechs are up ahead! You can't throw me out!"
The mech designer threw up so much commotion that the guards injected him with a sedative. That quickly shut him up. Ves and a couple of others shook their heads at the pathetic sight.
"I remember seeing his show models." One of the visitors remarked. "They hardly amount to anything. I can't imagine anyone willing to buy those heaps of junk."
"Maybe that's why he lashed out. His designs are crap so he wishes that every other design is crap."
Sadly, other designers kept the unwanted critique going. With hardly any activity at their own booths, they strolled around the halls and let out their frustration at the first decent mechs they encountered. As Ves offered some of the best mechs among the Apprentices, he became a frequent target for snide remarks and discouraging advice.
Only the fact that they maintained a cordial tone prevented security from dragging them out of earshot. Their remarks even had a conspiratorial tone to them as many visitors lacked the technical background to understand the truth of their words.
Many issues in mech design involved complex interconnected design choices. If Ves changed one tiny aspect, then he had to make adjustments to ten different sections of his designs. Sometimes, what appeared to be the most optimal solution turned out to be a trap.
The most important goal that mech designers had to keep in mind was to complete a practical design. Oftentimes, that meant that the designers had to dial back their ambitions in order to ensure their design remained functionally balanced. Pursuing peak performance in one area often came at a ruinous cost in another area.
These subtleties became lost once you engaged in an argument about specific design choices. The perception of the crowd turned ambivalent once they heard remarks like 'the arms are too protruded' or 'the limbs are too stiff for long-term battlefield deployments'.
Ves tried to be the better man and decided to close his ears to the noise. Despite the efforts of his fellow mech designers, his show models exhibited enough attraction that they constantly drew more visitors.
He even got to meet his first potential customer. The woman looked like a bureaucrat delegated to do some errands for his boss. While she threw an admiring glance towards the Caesar Augustus, its ludicrous price tag almost frightened her to the bones. She quickly diverted her eyes towards the more modest Mark II.
Antje introduced its features. "The Marc Antony Mark II is a major revision from the Mark II, and is currently deployed by mercenaries and companies around the Republic. The Eternal Edition of the Mark II features several enhancements that make it suitable as a display model. The Mark II Eternal Edition is an ideal design to inspire your company and intimidate your competitors."
"That sounds great, but this mech line lacks compressed armor." The businesswoman retorted. "At the price you're charging for this mech, I might as well procure a comech."
"That's your decision to make, but you'll be better off if you procure the Mark II. Display mechs aren't meant to be deployed in battle. The quality of the armor hardly matters if its role is to impress the people who are working or visiting your headquarters. Just look at the frame and forget about its specs. Feel how it calls out to you. Can you feel your blood pumping faster?"
The businesswoman wavered a bit. "Now that you mention it, this mech does seem to have a motivating effect."
In the Age of Mechs, humanity worshiped mechs to a degree that elevated them beyond the battlefield. An informal custom emerged where certain companies put mechs in front of their headquarters and important offices to show off their wealth.
The practice caught on, and more companies started putting up display models for various reasons.
For example, an aggressive skirmisher mech encouraged a company's employees to be proactive and to take more risks.
A mobile rifleman mech encouraged employees to be more flexible in their approach and to head off potential dangers in advance.
A heavy knight proclaimed the company to be an enduring fixture in the market. No matter what its competitors threw at them, they remained unassailable.
All of this sounded like hyperbole, but many academic studies have proven that the custom did indeed bring about a subtle psychological effect. The difference often amounted to a couple of percentage points, but for some large companies that quickly added up to a few billion credits.
Many businessmen still doubt the actual truth of the matter. Only a small minority of companies actually engaged in this custom. The rest considered the practice to be wasteful and needlessly indulgent. 'Toys for boys' they thought derisively.
Unfortunately for Ves, Antje didn't manage to make a sale this time. The businesswoman shook her head after she spent a couple of minutes taking in the Mark II's aura.
"I'll have to decline your offer. Your mech doesn't possess the traits my superior is looking for in a display model." She turned to the nearby Caesar Augustus. "Your other models look more suitable, but the price..."
The Marcus Aurelius would be auctioned in the evening while the Caesar Augustus sold for 80 million credits. Either mechs had been priced out of reach of nearly every company in the Republic.
Even though his first potential customer shied away, a couple of other serious buyers expressed their interest. Ves mainly stood by and let his salespersons do the talking. All of them worked for Marcella, so they possessed ample competence in this area.
Ves only intervened when the more technical-minded buyers started asking complicated questions.
Despite the increasing number of potential buyers drawn to his booth, his salespeople didn't manage to close a deal. The number one objection raised by these people was that Ves charged way too much for his mechs. His price levels did not conform to the market where people expected a mech that offered a certain level of performance to charge only so much money.
For example, the Mark II Eternal Edition delivered almost the same performance as the vanilla Mark II. However, their prices differed substantially. The Eternal Edition sold for 40 million credits while the regular Mark II sold for only 28 million credits.
Many potential buyers couldn't accept this 12 million credits premium!
As the afternoon rolled on, his booth still didn't manage to make a sale. Even as the crowd around his booth grew to more than a hundred, the buyers among them all kept their wallets closed.
Even Antje started showing her concern. She pulled Ves to the side. "I think we've misjudged the market demand for your mechs. You've succeeded in drawing a lot of interest, but that doesn't matter if you can't convert any of that interest into actual sales. I think we should adjust our price levels."
"It's too soon to lower our prices. There's still half a day to go before the first day is over."
"You don't realize how important it is to deliver a strong performance on the opening day." Antje shook her head. "The organizers keep track of every mech designer's sales record and publicize the list in front of the halls for everyone to see. If you end up at the bottom of the list, you'll discourage other buyers from taking you seriously."
Ves forgot about that detail. He showed some actual worry this time. "I understand the severity of the situation, but I'm not willing to budge on my prices. At least wait until the evening. If we haven't sold anything by that time, I'll reconsider the matter."
Even if others thought he behaved excessively greedy, his products earned the premium he charged. His potential buyers might be discouraged for now, but once they strolled around the convention center, they might change their minds.
Chapter 226
Setting the right price mattered a lot in the mech industry. The MTA maintained a public record on every certified mech sold by a mech designer. Potential customers often looked up his recent record to get an estimate on the value of his products.
The initial price often sets the standard.
Consider coming up with a mundane product like a pair of shoes. These days, modern manufacturing techniques have turned these articles of footwear into a cheap commodity that could be bought for rock-bottom prices. Some of the more affluent consumers even fabricate their own if they own a household 3D printer.
Most shoe manufacturers saw little future in trying to compete on price and volume. Instead, they went into the opposite direction, coming up with something fancy by employing famous fashion designers and incorporating trace exotics in their products.
All of that cost a lot of money, so the shoe manufacturers charged a higher premium for their fancy shoes. Sometimes they charged fifty times the unit cost of a single pair of shoes.
It sounded like a scam, right? Yet many shoe manufacturers sold out their most exclusive and expensive products the moment they released them on the market. They painstakingly built up a brand for excellence that consumers trusted.
Put in a cynical way, a strong brand effectively brainwashed the market. Consumers believed that the high prices the manufacturers adopted represented genuine value.
Sometimes, this even turned into a self-fulfilling prophecy. As brands grew in recognition and value, people who owned them earned more social recognition. Clothes made the man and woman.
Every company in pretty much every sector aimed to build up a brand like this. Unfortunately for Ves, the Living Mech Company hadn't reached this level yet. It barely got off the starting line.
To charge a twelve million credit premium for the Mark II Eternal Edition could be considered arrogant and premature. Neither his company nor his design achieved a strong enough brand to let him get away with such an outrageous price hike.
At least according to conventional wisdom.
"Then again, nothing I do adheres to conventional wisdom." Ves said to himself.
Ves faced two main hindrances to getting his audience accept his higher prices.
First, he barely started operating a year ago, and the LMC only came into existence a couple of months ago.
While he built up his company's brand on Cloudy Curtain, extending it to the vast and limitless Bentheim market required an even greater investment than before. Throwing a couple of billion credits on ad campaigns would barely be able to bump his company's profile from zero percent to one percent awareness.
Second, the true value of his products lay in the X-Factor, which had a definite effect on people but could not be measured directly. In addition, since Ves wished to keep his knowledge of the X-Factor a trade secret, he couldn't even direct the audience to take note of its effects.
Buyers had to trust in their gut feeling to appreciate his mechs enough to fork over the extra premium.
Yet they weren't always stupid.
The more credits at stake, the more they started thinking with their brains instead of their guts. When they looked at the Mark II Eternal Edition and inspected its specs, they would know that its performance simply didn't match its price.
If there was one thing consumers hated, it was being made aware that they were overcharging for a product. A strong brand blinded consumers to this occurrence, but Ves didn't enjoy such a luxury at the moment.
A purchase should feel good. Ves hoped that anyone who decided to buy his mechs felt happy that they went for his designs. He'd leave a bad taste in their mouths if he appeared to be overcharging his products. This explained his current lack of sales.
As visitors kept pouring into the convention center, Ves still hadn't made a sale. The few potential buyers among the crowd soundly rejected his greedy prices and turned elsewhere to satisfy their cravings.
Even his neighboring booths sold a couple of mechs. Ves didn't think much of the mundane-looking mechs neighboring his booth, but their mech designers joyfully appealed to the crowd milling in front of his show models.
The prices of their mechs ranged from ten to twenty million credits. From what Ves could see, the desperate mech designers didn't even charge much of a premium for their mechs. They'd barely make more than half-a-million credits after deducting their production costs and license fees.
Still, as poor as they behaved, at least they made some progress. Ves on the other hand sat with empty hands while the first day of the festival already progressed halfway.
"It comes down to feeling." Ves realized after musing about this point. "There's got to be a way to make the feeling more poignant."
He turned his head to the nearby simulator pods. Marcella's organization brought ten pods to his booth to allow the guests to try out the virtual versions of his show models.
They loosely set a limit of ten minutes per guest so that every potentate got a turn. Even then, around fifty eager guests waited in line.
Ves noted that everyone who wanted to try out a simulation consisted of average festival goers. While that helped leave a good impression behind, the mass of people blocked his potential customers from accessing the pods quickly.
Ves immediately turned to Antje. "I think it's best to encourage our potential customers to try out the simulators. Let's cut back on access to the pods to the general public."
"Hm. Good idea. While not everyone who expresses interest in our mechs is a potentate, there are enough that it's worthwhile so set some pods aside."
The sales manager immediately went to work. She set three pods aside and instructed the sales representatives to encourage their use by anyone expressing interest in the mechs.
Half an hour went by as the new policy went into effect. Ves sat back and watched as the potential customers got an opportunity to experience the mechs up close. Their attitudes of his products changed once they got a taste of piloting the mechs.
While the experience paled in comparison to entering the actual cockpits, the rules forbid the practice out of safety concerns.
"I still need an extra oomph to get across the idea that my mechs are different."
He looked at his models and compared them to the simulated footage displayed by the various projectors at his booth. The projected mechs looked a lot more vivid due to their motion and something else that Ves had overlooked.
"The Festive Cloud Generators are inactive."
Ves declined to add the generator to his lightly modified Caesar Augustus, he did add them to his variants. The Mark II Eternal Edition featured a striking red vertical head crest while the Marcus Aurelius had a rolling purple cape. When both modules turned active, it made the mech seem larger than life.
However, the organizers strictly prohibited the activation of any show models. Even turning on the lights posed too much of a risk. Still, Ves wanted to try and see if he could get an exemption on this rule.
He summoned up the hall manager. A round-bellied man with a moustache showed up. He dressed in a weirdly formal costume that emphasized the girth of his belly. In an age where various weight-reducing treatments existed, being fat was more of a fashion statement than a sign of obesity.
"What a wonderful trio of mechs!" The hall manager exclaimed as he arrived at his booth. A couple of security officers had to shove the crowd aside to allow his portly body to get close. "I love what you did to the Caesar Augustus! It's one of the best I've ever seen! You could apply for a masterwork certificate from the MTA with this beauty!"
Ves awkwardly laughed. "I'm still too young to think about such a thing."
Mechs had to meet a lot of strict criteria before they became eligible for a masterwork certificate. Generally, only Senior and Master Mech Designers possessed the skills to reach this standard.
"Then what seems to be the problem?"
"I'm looking to turn on a function of two of my show models." Ves replied and guided him to a projection that showed the Mark II Eternal Edition and the Marcus Aurelius in action. "The Festive Cloud Generator injects minute particles into harmless water vapor to achieve these visual effects."
"I do admit the mechs look dazzling when the so-called cloud generators are active, but the potential risks are numerous. The main reason why we don't allow mechs to run any systems is because their reactors have to come online. Even at their lowest operating level, they generate a significant amount of heat and energy. If anything goes wrong with these reactors, the consequences could be catastrophic to the nearby crowd."
The hall manager gestured to the pressing mass of people who became enchanted by his mechs. From a public safety standpoint, the man had a point. From a technical standpoint, the chance the reactors malfunctioned and exploded was virtually nil.
"These are brand-new mechs that have gone through certification. The MTA ensured they're safe. What's the harm in turning on a couple of vapor generators? Think of how much better my mechs will look like. The festival will be better off if the crowd can see my mechs at their best."
His arguments slowly persuaded the hall manager to the merits of letting his mechs appear at their best.
Ves figured out that the shrewd man in charge of this side hall competed against the managers of the other halls to attract the most visitors. The manager never told him this directly, but his responses hinted at this dynamic at work. The more he talked, the more he honed in on these benefits.
"My mechs are already one the biggest draws in this hall. I know you have reservations for turning on those cheaply-built mechs, but my products are different. I didn't cut any corners when I designed and fabricated these mechs. I can truly guarantee you that nothing will go wrong if I'm allowed to turn on the generators."
It took five more minutes to squeeze an exemption out of the reluctant manager. At the end, Ves had the feeling he was merely providing an excuse for something the manager actually wanted at the beginning. His training and instructions prevented him from complying right away, but talk long enough and even the steel-hearted started to waver.
When Ves quickly entered the cockpits and turned them online at their lowest level, the entire crowd held their breath. Since he received an exemption to run his mechs at their lowest activity level, he sneakily bent the rules and turned a few more lights on as well.
The difference became apparent right away. A low murmur of appreciation ran through the crowd as the two models underwent a transformation.
The exclusive Marcus Aurelius especially appeared dramatic. Its rolling purple cape reinforced the regal quality to his eternal mech. While it always became a hit with the older folk, even the kids and teenagers started to admire the sage-like model.
As the only two mechs that received permission to come online, the spectacle instantly doubled the crowd. Ves didn't care about that but instead directed his attention to an affluent visitor who just exited a simulator pod.
When the man entered the pod, the mechs still remained dormant. Only when he got to enjoy the simulations for ten short minutes did he emerge with an entirely new view. His gaze admired the aggressive contours of the Mark II and the ethereal ambiance radiated by the Marcus Aurelius.
He turned his attention back to the Mark II after a while. It appeared his budget only allowed him to consider the cheapest offering. Even if Ves planned to auction the Marcus Aurelius, its high production cost ensured that it would not come cheap.
Eventually, the potential customer made a choice. He caught the attention of a sales representative. "I'd like to purchase a copy of this design."
Ves smiled when he heard those words. If everything went right, he just made his first sale.
"This is just the start."
Chapter 227
The first buyer turned out to be a sentimentalist. He wanted to purchase the Mark II Eternal Edition for himself and not for any business purposes. Evidently, he had a lot of money to spare.
Ves had the feeling the man earned his money through less than legal means. His name turned up very few records and the details he provided about himself hardly illuminated his life.
No matter what, a sale was a sale and the man possessed enough legal standing to sign a contract.
The first sale opened the floodgates. After a couple of more potential buyers tried the mechs first-hand in a virtual environment, they became sold on the idea of owning the mech.
Their backgrounds ranged from retired mercenary commanders to well-off business owners. Ves soon reached his daily quota of ten Mark II's sold in the next couple of hours.
Once the quota had been met, most potential customers that came afterwards expressed regret for arriving too late. Many of them had visited his booth earlier and mentally dismissed his designs as overpriced, but once they heard how his Mark II caught fire they came back too late.
Antje smiled with satisfaction at the sight. "Herd mentality is at work now. Your Mark II Eternal Edition has turned into a must-own design. If nothing goes wrong, most of these latecomers will be back tomorrow."
"Hopefully they'll still be in a rush after a good night's sleep. I'd hate to see them lose their drive to purchase my mechs after they had some time to reflect." Ves remarked. "Herd mentality only works as long as there's momentum propelling them forward."
Ten Marc Antony Mark II Eternal Edition mechs represented around 400 million credits in value! If Ves sold out for the next three days, he'd make over 1.2 billion credits in revenue alone! After deducting all of his expenses, he'd still end up with roughly a third of that incredible sum, enough to fill up his current shortfall.
"It will be better if my Caesar Augustus start getting sold as well."
Many potential customers still shied away from the Caesar Augustus Eternal Edition. Its intimidating price tag of 80 million credits sounded a bit too ludicrous even for enthusiasts. The ability to make a direct comparison between the Eternal Edition and the original model hurt a lot. They could get an original Caesar Augustus for well under 60 million credits, after all!
Maybe Ves had been a little bit too greedy for charging a 20 million credit premium on an intangible benefit. If nobody pointed out the design's excellent X-Factor, how could his potential customers not feel scammed if they decided to purchase a model?
At least the Mark II benefited from not having a direct comparison. While unmech variants of the Caesar Augustus existed, their specs different substantially from each other. The Mark II also acquitted itself well if someone compared its specs to those other variants that lacked compressed armor.
Once the first day of the festival transitioned to the evening, the events in the main hall started amping up. While many visitors left the side halls to join the festivities, many more guests arrived from elsewhere who found the press of the crowd intimidating. The side halls received plenty of fresh faces, and the number of people who congregated around his booth never diminished.
Every sales representative focused on pushing the Caesar Augustus. Despite setting a daily quota of three mechs, the fish simply refused to take the bait. Ves began to grow more concerned. His happiness for selling out the Mark II aside, he'd miss out on a lot of lost opportunities if his more expensive product line did poorly.
After a while, Antje came back to him after getting a pulse of his well-heeled crowd.
"There are still people who are eying the Caesar Augustus." She began. "Yet they're holding back due to their price. Their willingness to buy is pretty high, but not high enough to justify 80 million credits. Worse, they know that others are holding the same doubts. I think they've reached a tacit agreement to wait out your resolve."
"What does that mean?" Ves frowned. "Are they sure that no one will snap up my mech at my asking price?"
"That's exactly right. The seasoned collectors among them are familiar with this game. When they think a seller is demanding too much, they discourage everyone from making the first step. This forces the seller to lower prices. It's an open conspiracy."
Essentially, the two sides waited out each other's patience. The first side to give in lost the advantage. While Ves found the issue rather thorny, at least the willingness to buy his centerpiece model exists.
He worked his brain over the problem. "All we need to break their game is to force out a single sale. Once the first quota is sold, the second and third will be snapped up instantly."
"Again, the first step is the hardest. We don't have any other means to compel a sale."
Props and visual spectacles helped set the mood, but Ves had exhausted his options. The hall manager didn't allow him to turn on the Caesar Augustus because it didn't feature a Festive Cloud Generator. The striking looks of the Marc Antony and the Marcus Aurelius with their constant emission of colored vapor made the Caesar Augustus look plain.
"It will help if we turn off the two other mechs."
Antje shook her head. "We'll cut off all the buzz we generated so far. We can't stop midway. Besides, you still plan to auction the Marcus Aurelius, right? We have to do it when it appears at its best."
That gave Ves an idea. "The schedule called for auctioning the Marcus Aurelius in the late evening, but why not do it now? I think we can work up a buying fever if we auction the Marcus Aurelius. Those who didn't manage to get their hands on my exclusive variant can set their sights on the Caesar Augustus instead."
"That's a great idea, but there are a lot of risks involved if we auction your exclusive mech too early." The sales manager warned. "The lack of buying fever among your more expensive models may lead to an anemic bidding procedure. To my judgement, it's still too soon."
Something had to change. Either Ves decided to hold the auction now, or wait out the patience of his buyers. He preferred to take action immediately.
"Hold the auction now. Don't worry too much about the risks. I'm sure that there are people here who have been eying the Marcus Aurelius. It's a unique variant and only four of them will ever exist."
They held an informal auction in an hour, leaving enough time for those who kept their eye on his mech to return to his booth. Antje took care of the arrangements and made some space in front of his booth.
She also employed a specialized auction software that tracked all of the bids. Eligible bidders merely had to speak out to register their bids, which would be displayed in the open by the largest projector they possessed.
If anyone wanted to stay anonymous for some reason, they could also input their bids into their comms. As long as they verified their identities and proved they had enough money, the bidders had the option to hide their names and affiliations.
As the skies darkened outside Ansel, the auction finally went underway. Ves tried to hype up the crowd by taking the stage and explaining what he did to the Marcus Aurelius. He devoted his speech to both its technical aspects and its vision.
"This is more than a Caesar Augustus with a cape. This is a symbol!" Ves proclaimed as he gestured his hands towards his newest variant. "Imagine putting it in front of your headquarters or your collection hall. Who would diminish you when you own the king of mechs? Best of all, the model is extremely enduring and will last for hundreds of years with proper maintenance. Even as it ages, its essential quality will remain!"
Ves expected that anyone who bought this mech would never deploy it in battle, so he emphasized its brilliance as a display model. Once he finished his speech, he left the stage for Antje who finally started the auction.
"The price starts at zero credits! Please bid in increments of 100,000 bright credits. No other currencies or bartering will be accepted. Who wants to make the first bid?"
"I do!" A random mercenary laughed. "I'll take it for 100,000 credits!"
"200,000!"
"500,000!"
"3 million credits!"
"10 million!"
"10.1 million!"
"10.2 million!"
"10.3 million!"
"10.4 million!"
"You pussies! We'll be stuck here for the entire night if you two go on like that! 30 million credits!"
"I can say the same for you! Do you really think this eye candy is worth 30 million? I bid 45 million credits!"
A low murmur ran through the crowd as they heard that sum. 45 million credits was considered the floor price for a Caesar Augustus.
Now that the opportunistic low-ball offers stopped, the pace of the bidding reached a calmer stage. It took a few seconds for a new bid to follow-up on the old one. The bidders each looked at each other as if trying to figure out if they reached their limit.
The mass of people who gathered to join the fun made it difficult to figure out who still wanted to bid. Ves himself estimated the auction started with over a hundred bidders, but now that the price surpassed bargain bin territory, only around twenty serious bidders still remained.
"55 million credits."
"56 million credits."
"60 million credits."
"61 million credits!"
The auction further slowed down after reaching the magical figure of 60 million credits. For the same sum, the bidders could order an original Caesar Augustus fabricated by National Aeromotives themselves. Any bid that surpassed this sum meant that the bidder placed a lot of value on what Ves had contributed to the original design.
"63 million credits."
"63.5 million credits."
"64 million credits."
"64.5 million credits."
The remaining bidders began to grow reluctant. Some stayed patient and refrained from speaking out, while others started making bids anonymously.
"An anonymous bidder just put up 67 million credits!" Antje announced as the projection shifted. "Come on, is that all? Will you allow this precious mech to get away from your grasp?"
"Enough!" A powerful voice boomed. A man in military uniform stood up and silenced the tentative bidders in an instant. "I bid 80 million credits!"
Another commotion ran through the watching crowd. They never imagined a single mech in this festival could reach such a value. Even more remarkable was that the bidder came from the Mech Corps. People guessed whether he made his bid on behalf of a senior officer or a division.
Even Ves found the presence of the soldier to be puzzling. Did someone in the Mech Corps decide to do him a favor? He couldn't imagine any other reason why they wanted to get their hands on an outdated mech.
"Favor or not, at least a mental barrier is broken now."
With this bid, the Marcus Aurelius matched the asking price for the Caesar Augustus Eternal Edition. Any further bids represented a strong desire to own its first copy.
"81 million."
85 million."
"85.1 million."
"86 million."
Only four bidders remained at this stage. The military officer competed against what looked like a collector, a CEO and an anonymous bidder. It all came down to nerves and the size of their wallets at this point.
"88 million."
"90 million."
"90.1 million."
"90.2 million."
"90.5 million."
"90.6 million."
For some reason, the final bid stalled at this amount. Antje waited for a dozen seconds, but the crowd remained as still as a graveyard. Eventually, she had to move the auction along.
"Alright folks, the current bid stands at 90.6 million credits. Going once..."
Not even a peep emerged from the frozen audience.
"Going twice..."
Just when Ves thought the limit had been reached, the man that looked like a CEO lost his patience. "110 million! This is my final offer!"
The vast sum came as a shock. Even Ves hadn't imagined such a massive bump in bids. While everyone blinked at the astonishing figure, Antje hurried the closing moments of the auction along.
"Going once, going twice..."
Ves thought Antje must be deliberately inducing haste to prompt the other hesitant bidders into action. Whatever her intentions, her gamble failed as no one showed any willingness to put up a higher bid.
"...Sold!"
The crowd erupted in hysterics as the Marcus Aurelius had been successfully nabbed by the businessman. The other bidders in contention had to throw in the towel when faced with such extravagance.
Ves didn't know whether the winner had been smart or foolish for raising the bar by an extra twenty million credits. Perhaps he thought that raising the sum by ten million credits provided too little shock.
The news traveled throughout the halls. More people started pouring in from elsewhere in order to catch a glimpse of a mech worth 110 million credits. While the main hall showed off many mechs that sold for more, it was still a milestone for the side halls.
As for the losers of the auction, they quietly approached his sales representatives and bought his stalled Caesar Augustus. Ves instantly achieved his daily quota of selling three of them a day. His face practically lit up in smiles when he heard the news.
Chapter 228
Ves remained in a jubilant mood throughout the night. Despite the shaky start, his customers finally bit the bullet and submitted an order for his mechs. While they merely represented a reservation of sorts that could be canceled at any time, Ves didn't worry too much as long as he delivered the mechs quickly.
The most astonishing event that happened that day was when the Marcus Aurelius sold for 110 million credits at an auction. In the Bright Republic, any mech that sold for over 100 million credits had to possess something special. Usually, only expert pilots and other elites piloted such mechs.
What made this case special was that the Marcus Aurelius reached this standard by virtue of its rarity and its so-called 'intangible value'. That was a polite way of saying that many people thought the winner of the auction grossly overspent on a mech that should ordinarily be worth 60 million credits at most.
One local news portal published a critical article about the auction.
"Through theatrics and guile, Mr. Larkinson succeeded in pulling the wool over the eyes of his audience. With the Vintage Festival's hall manager complicit in his scams, this money-grubbing mech designer manipulated his buyers into spending twice the amount of money that they ought to. We are dearly concerned with the Vintage Festival's integrity for hosting Mr. Larkinson and granting him additional favors that honest mech designers could only dream about."
On the other hand, many other news portals put a positive spin on the events.
"Have you heard of the Living Mech Corporation? If you're shaking your head, you're not alone! Founded by the scion of the Larkinsons, a military dynasty, the company made a splash in Ansel yesterday by selling and auctioning their limited edition mechs at sky high prices. Our resident mech analyst predicts that Mr. Larkinson has achieved a profit margin of a hundred percent, which sits at the top range for mech designers at his level!"
"It is a mystery why the Marcus Aurelius reached a value of 110 million credits. Mr Brandstein, CEO and chairman of the Brandstein Asset Management, is known as a shrewd investor and has never made any catastrophic bets. What did Mr. Brandstein see in the mysterious Marcus Aurelius that made him want this exclusive model at all costs? No matter his intentions, his august patronage has lent some sorely needed credibility to Mr. Larkinson's mech startup."
Ves shook his head as he browsed the articles the next morning. The reporters spun grand tales out of very little facts. Their articles mainly contained speculation and opinions that served to accommodate the existing biases of their target audience.
"Any publicity is good publicity." Antje told him as she ate her breakfast at the hotel they stayed at. "While these news portals don't reach very far, they are strongly rooted in Bentheim. The key to building up a brand in Bentheim is to lay down a distinctive track record. Stand out. Make a splash. Whatever you do, don't settle for mediocrity."
In other words, even if Ves screwed up, as long as he did so in a spectacular manner, he'd still be able to increase his name recognition. The amount of competitors in the Bentheim market reached such a ridiculous level that many average mech designers who designed normal, practical mechs never achieved success because nobody had heard of them and their boring designs.
It was easy to get lost in the crowd.
Once they arrived at his booth, they faced a difficult situation. Numerous buyers congregated around his sales representatives asking to purchase the Mark II and the Caesar Augustus. Normally, that would make Ves happy, but this time the number of buyers exceeded his daily quota.
"It's very important to handle this situation with care." Antje warned as she read through the waiting list of customers. "There are a lot of influential people on this list. How do you wish to proceed?"
Even though the situation looked great, the wrong decision could tip over the favorable balance that they managed to create.
Ves considered his options. "We could institute a first come first serve policy. Those who spent the effort on getting here the earliest have priority over those who come later. If we want to be really fair, we could also do a random draw of all the people who expressed interest in buying my products. We could even spread them out over the day so that no one will feel we've left them out."
"Those are fair options, but they're not the most optimal ones." His sales manager responded. "Right now, you're in the enviable position of being able to set your prices. Even at your current price levels, there is still room for growth."
That sounded logical, and in an ordinary situation he'd go for it. In economics, demand usually matches supply.
If demand exceeded supply, then the most appropriate response was to raise his prices until the cheapskates stopped demanding his products. Meanwhile, those with thicker wallets eagerly spent more for essentially the same products.
Still, Ves thought he had a good thing going on now. Pushing his buyers to the limit might cause a backlash that could see the momentum that had grown around his products fade.
"Let's keep the prices as they are." Ves decided. "My profit margins are hovering around a hundred percent already. That's extremely good for a newcomer in the mech industry. It's more important to consolidate our gains than to overreach our current market standing."
Antje looked disappointed, but she accepted his decision. As a marketer, she thought that Ves had lost an easy opportunity to earn some extra money. If they played their cards right, they could have earned twenty to thirty percent more.
To accommodate their potential customers, they decided to go for a random draw. Each hour, they held a lottery for the opportunity to purchase a single Mark II or Caesar Augustus. The announcement momentarily befuddled the crowd of buyers, but they stuck around anyway.
If they failed to win the first draw, they still had a chance in the second one, and so on. The arrangement slightly favored those who persisted the longest, though eventually luck formed the decisive factor.
"Another advantage of resorting to a random draw is that the winners will cherish their lucky opportunities." Antje noted as she saw the first lucky bastard jump into the air with joy. "That means the chance that they'll turn back on the transaction and demand a refund is a lot lower than if you raised your prices."
Throughout the second day, his booth became more of an exhibition than a store. Even more visitors arrived at Ansel today, causing the halls to be packed with people. Through word of mouth, his show models became one of the must-see attractions of the Vintage Festival.
The space in front of his booth became jam-packed with visitors. The hall manager sent additional security to his area to maintain order.
Ves found it amusing that people started to speculate on what made his designs so valuable. They entered a peculiar state where they sought for possible answers while staring at his show models. This made them more sensitive to the X-Factor the models radiated, causing them to come up with all sorts of wild reasons.
In any case, everyone pretty much agreed that his models possessed a certain gravitas that drew the eye. This was most obvious with the Caesar Augustus Eternal Edition, but the Marcus Aurelius formed an especially puzzling mech.
People ascribed more value to the mystical mech because someone else already paid a fortune for it. Even if they couldn't sense its X-Factor, its mere perceived value had transformed it into a hot commodity that brought a lot of value to whoever got to own a copy.
That perception strengthened when the professional mech aficionados gave out favorable reviews of the Marcus Aurelius. Experiencing its X-Factor at close proximity and trying out its virtual version allowed them to get a taste of its special qualities.
They all used their own terms to describe their sensations.
"Larger than life."
"A mech with stature."
"A living legacy."
These authoritative statements fueled the anticipation surrounding the Marcus Aurelius. By the time they held the second auction, a famed collector finally managed to secure his bid at 120 million credits!
More and more people began to believe the Marcus Aurelius possessed a unique strength, especially if they tried it out in a simulation. The crowd started to demand he release the virtual model to the general public, but Ves refused to give in to the demand.
He wanted to maintain the aura of mystique around his most valuable model and maintain its exclusivity. The less people became exposed to the mech, the more they wanted to possess it. The limited amount of time allotted to simulations barely satisfied their cravings. In fact, it spurred them to an even greater frenzy.
On the third day, besides selling out his regular models, the third Marcus Aurelius had been won by an anonymous bidder for a modest sum of 115 million credits.
The lower sum compared to the day before represented that his model had reached its apex in terms of hype and perceived value. Even though demand for the Marcus Aurelius remained high, it reached a hard limit in terms of how far Ves could stretch out its value.
His suspicions arose when they held the final auction on the last day of the festival. With most of the guests attending the closing ceremony at the main hall, the buzz around his show models had clearly reached a low point. The final bid given by another CEO only reached 113 million credits.
While this still represented an unimaginable sum of money, Ves had secretly hoped for more. He shook his head at his greed. "I've already won big at this event. There's no need to complain about missing out."
The daily sales chart proved his success. His booth had topped the sales chart in Hall 2. Surprisingly, a few mech designers over at Hall 1 did even better. They mostly consisted of AUMD alumni who catered to their home market. While their profit margins were drastically lower, they managed to sell hundreds of mechs, all of which added up to a frightening sum.
Antje tried to console Ves. "They're already players in the Bentheim market, and their mechs are much more reasonably priced. These are natural results from your diverging product strategies. You've been targeting the high-end consumers while they've been focusing on the middle segment of the market."
"I see. You're right. It's stupid to fuss about this issue. We haven't been competing directly against each other."
He always envisioned the LMC to take the high-end route. Instead of investing in production capacity, Ves would rather develop his skills and his products and develop a reputation for excellence.
After a wonderful period of doing business, they began to pack up their props and dismantle their booth. Ves sent the show models back to Marcella's storage yard to be inspected and brushed up. Even if they served their duty as show models, they were destined to fall into the hands of his first clients.
"Goodbye, my sweet mechs. I hope you enjoy your new homes."
At the end of the ride, Ves wasted a lot of time on paperwork. Technically, he hadn't sold any mech yet. He only received a number of orders that he had to fulfill before the customer transferred the promised sum.
Despite these technicalities, Ves still made out with a fortune. First, he sold forty Marc Antony Mark II Eternal Editions. With 40 million credits a pop, the total sum reached 1.6 billion credits.
Second, he sold twelve copies of the Caesar Augustus Eternal Edition for 80 million credits for a total of 960 million credits.
Finally, he auctioned out four exclusive copies of the Marcus Aurelius for a total of 458 million credits! Just four mechs earned him almost a billion credits alone!
Still, Ves had to throw in a lot of caveats that diminished his final earnings. First, Ves promised Marcella a ten percent cut out of his gross profits. That was ten percent less than their contract which Ves insisted on due to all the work he had put into this event. Even then, Ves would dearly miss that money.
Second, increased resource costs raised the production costs to a higher level than ever. Right now, the fabrication cost for a Mark II Eternal Edition evened out at 24 million credits, mostly due to the added premium materials included in its design.
The Caesar Augustus and Marcus Aurelius both cost around the same to produce at around 50 million credits, though the actual price fluctuated significantly from day to day. That meant that Ves might be able to pay only 49 million credits tomorrow, but 51 million credits the day after that.
Still, the general trend made it clear that Ves had to spend big in order to earn big.
Chapter 229
Ves faced the daunting prospect of trying to fulfill 56 orders in perfect order. He not only had to arrange the logistics in a way that kept his production line running as much as possible, he also had to be personally involved in each step of the way.
All of his customers ordered the equivalent of gold label mechs. If Ves decided to be lazy and left the fabrication to his employees, then the mechs would never reach their full potential in the X-Factor.
Once his customers got their hands on the diminished products, they'd look at their mechs and wonder if Ves bamboozled them. As the actual product's qualities couldn't match the show models, they'd be justified in their outrage.
"I can't cut any corners with these orders." Ves murmured as he drew up a rough plan on how to fulfill the orders as fast as possible. "The amount of stuff I have to take into account is growing by the day. I should probably beef up my administrative workforce soon."
At the very least, Ves required someone to take care of the administrative side of things. He also needed a financial wizard to manage his growing pile of cash. Relying too much on automated software to do his administration left him prone to overlooking too many things
After the Vintage Festival ended in a spectacular fashion, he immediately returned to the Barracuda with his followers and lifted off from Bentheim. He couldn't wait to return to his workshop and get his hands dirty.
Right now, time was of the essence. He had to fulfill his orders fast if he wanted to release an original design before the end of the year. While no one knew when the Vesians planned to invade the Republic, the pundits on the news portals all predicted it wouldn't be too long. Both sides already started mobilizing some of their reserves.
In the meantime, the Mech Corps fought back against the rebels and the pirates preying on the shipping lines. The anti-piracy operations progressed decently as the Republic hunted down the smaller pirate outfits, though they failed to nail down their elusive leadership.
Closer to home, several famous divisions achieved great success at crippling the BLM's off-planet assets. Their influence in the greater Bentheim region shrank drastically as a result, leaving the separatists with too little assets to pose a threat on other planets.
Once the Barracuda arrived at Cloudy Curtain, Ves returned to his workshop under an even tighter guard.
Word of his success at the festival had spread to his home. While his stature and influence had grown, so did the risks. Sanyal-Ablin already informed him the amount of probes and hacking attempts on his workshop had increased by over a thousand percent!
His long-awaited help waited for him at the entrance to his workshop. "It's great to finally meet you! I'm Ves."
A stodgy man with greying hair clasped his hand in a strong grip. "Cyril Hockett, chief mech technician. Your grandfather offered me some new scenery, and I figured you could use the help."
"Your help is sorely needed. Right now, I've got a barebones operation going on. That was fine when I just started my business, but now I've got to fulfill a large quantity of orders."
Ves proceeded to explain the layout of his workshop. He introduced his incoming chief to his shiny new machines and explained their extensive capabilities. He also showed him around the storerooms and other areas to make sure where he could find what he needed.
When Cyril saw that Ves had no other workers in his workshop except for Carlos, he almost spat on the floor.
"This is a piss-poor workshop for a company that just received billions worth of credits in orders! When you've grown to the point where you aim to deliver more than fifty mechs in less than half a year, then you should stop thinking you can do everything by yourself. As far as I'm concerned, you should have started training some mech technicians from the moment you incorporated your business."
"To be honest, the reason why I didn't hire any technicians sooner is because it's difficult to insure their loyalty." Ves sheepishly admitted. "If you've heard about the dangers I've been through, then you should know there's a very real threat of infiltration."
When his grandfather promised to send out a chief, Ves had briefly read his profile. Unlike some random technician he could hire off the street, Cyril had been an orphan who lost his parents in one of the past Bright-Vesia Wars. He'd been picked up by the Larkinsons who took care of his upbringing so that he formed a strong loyalty to the family.
Many wealthy families engaged in such practices to form a cadre of loyal retainers. The lives of these men and women could have been much worse without the nurturing they received from their backers.
Due to his simple history and impeccable service, Ves trusts Cyril almost as much as his father and grandfather.
His new chief already made some bold plans. "It's a little cramped here, but I like it. You've got some real quality equipment here. It's a shame you don't have enough hands to make full use of them. Let me take care of the hiring. I'll be sure to watch out if they're up to anything. With me around, they won't even get the chance to harm you."
Cyril's confidence provided some reassurance to Ves. He nodded at his chief and keyed him into the various systems that ran his workshop. In particular, Ves granted Cyril the authority to hire and train new personnel on his behalf. The chief didn't need to check in with Ves for every little decision he made.
Naturally, his security systems still kept track of everyone's movements. Ves occasionally skimmed the logs to make sure that Carlos hadn't been slacking off. He simply had some extra reading to do with Cyril's addition to his workforce.
"Delegate when you can." Cyril nodded approvingly. "The key to transitioning from a scrappy startup to an established company is to increase its scope but maintain control. You'll shackle your company if you insist on micromanaging every aspect. Focus on your strengths as a mech designer and leave all of the details to your underlings."
Cyril made some broad recommendations to his operations. Besides urging him to staff his administrative department, he also recommended moving his workshop within half a year.
"Why so soon?" Ves asked with a puzzled tone. "I don't expect I'll need to expand my workshop any further before I develop my first original design."
The chief shook his head. "That's a short-sighted perspective. With only a fixed set of orders to fulfill, right now is the best time to plan a relocation. If you haven't looked outside, your workshop is sitting at the edge of a suburban neighborhood. I'm fairly certain that the local zoning laws prohibit further expansion of your workshop."
"Yes, but why is it necessary to move to an open area as fast as possible?"
"You need a bigger inventory! Not only for raw materials, but also for your products! Right now, you're shipping in materials and shipping out mechs with hardly any margin for error."
"I see. Until recently, I lacked the cash to worry about building up my inventory. Now I've got a large amount of mechs to deliver."
A larger inventory allowed his workshop to fabricate without interruption or delays. It also helped provide a buffer if war or piracy cut off the shipping lines between Bentheim and its major suppliers.
Cyril provided even more reasons to move. Ves could plan ahead and use a much more efficient layout of his work site with plenty of room for expansion. He could also consult Sanyal-Ablin on how to make his workshop safe and secure from the very start.
"Money can make a lot of people go crazy. It's unfortunate your recent sales have attracted so much scrutiny. You can expect a lot of important visitors to knock at your door in the next couple of days."
His words came true the next day. While Cyril went out to the local branch of the MTA to put up a recruiting notice, a familiar face turned up at his doorstep. Dietrich sat down on a sofa in his lounge with a serious expression.
He sighed. "I hate to be doing this, but my father insisted. You know how we've got your back, right? A lot of scum started snooping around our turf. We've been cleaning them up as soon as they show up, but it's tiresome work. You've become a big boy now under our protection. I even let you take advantage of my connections."
"I see." Ves said flatly. He already knew what Dietrich had in mind. "Nothing comes for free."
"Hah! Wouldn't it be nice to eat cloud rice every day! Sadly, you're right. You only get to enjoy something if you're willing to pay for it. That goes for both the trans-galactic corporations and the local liquor store where I've been buying my best drinks. Seeing as you're running a business yourself, it's time to pay your debts."
Before Ves made it big, Walter's Whalers treated him like a kid. They indulged him to build up good relations and to insure they established a relationship before he rose up. Even if he never amounted to anything, it didn't cost the Whalers anything to make the effort.
Now they realized they were sitting on a gold mine. While they still wanted to be friends, they also wanted a piece of the very juicy pie that Ves had just brought back from Bentheim.
They negotiated for a couple of minutes. Unlike the domineering gangs in Bentheim, the Whalers presented reasonable demands to Ves and the LMC. They asked for a modest contribution of five percent of gross profits.
Ves expected worse, like a demand to cough up 500 million credits immediately.
"We're not stupid, you know?" Dietrich remarked when he noted that Ves doubted his words. "We run our own businesses, so of course we know a thing or two about liquidity. All those stories you've heard about the gangs in Bentheim are exceptions rather than the norm. There's a whole bunch of chuckleheads in that cesspit who have more greed than sense. They rarely last very long."
In fact, the Whalers made a shrewd decision by betting on the future. Demanding a five percent cut in gross profits sounded small while the LMC remained in its beginning stages of its growth. Once it expanded to the point where it sold tens of thousands of mechs a year, that five percent accumulated into a frightening amount of money.
Despite being taken advantage of, Ves knew he couldn't refuse the offer. He nodded wordlessly, and after exchanging a bit of pleasantries, his guest left the workshop.
"At least I only have to start paying for the next fiscal year."
Ves set the fiscal year to the date he first embarked on his career as a mech designer, which came up very soon. Not only did he have to file for taxes for his earnings up to now, he also had to make another interest payment on the debt his father accrued.
"It's interesting what a difference a year can make."
A year ago, Ves faced an existential threat because he started penniless with 330 million credits in debt. This unimaginably huge sum loomed over him like a mountain that threatened to collapse on his shoulders.
The debt still existed to this day, only this time Ves had grown into a giant. Before he knew it, he became capable of tipping over the mountain anytime he wanted. Only his reluctance to spend his cash before he finished investing in a couple more licenses withheld him from doing so.
An alarm interrupted his musings. Someone else arrived at his doorstep. When Ves went up to see who came, he met a familiar face from the Pioneers.
"Mr. Larkinson." Linden Royce tipped his hat to Ves. "Can I come in?"
"Certainly. Come right in." Ves replied after his security cleared him of any bugs and threats. "I'm sorry to say I didn't expect your presence, deputy director."
"Recent developments changed our outlook on your case. And it's the director now. My superior has been reassigned. There's been a lot of shakeups at the Pioneers. Certain factions lost support while others rose with the tide."
"And I suppose I'm to blame."
Linden smiled at Ves, confirming the jest. The recent revival of the mech scene on Cloudy Curtain had benefited the Pioneers the most. They grew from a marginal position with little influence to a formidable source of opposition to the Greens and the White Doves.
No matter how much they disliked each other, they had to rely on each other in order to resist the status quo.
Chapter 230
Director Royce left with empty hands after a largely fruitless meeting with Ves.
Having seen their true face, Ves did not have a good impression of the Pioneers. Even in their brief but cordial conversation, Royce always assumed that Ves already belonged to their crowd.
While Ves favored a better business climate, that did not mean he wanted to step into the swamp of politics. In his eyes, the Pioneers were just as sleazy as the ruling coalition. He had no doubt that as soon as the winds turned against him, the Pioneers would be the first to abandon his side.
No matter what the director promised, Ves refused to entertain any entreaties for his support. Faced with a brick wall in terms of willingness to cooperate, Royce got the message and made himself scarce.
"Are you sure it's a good idea to keep him at arm's length?" Carlos asked as he entered the lounge.
"I'm in the business of selling mechs, not policy making. Frankly,
The only useful bit of information Ves got out of the conversation was when Royce explained the Republican Commissioner's lack of involvement.
"The Commissioner is an old man who's been pushed out of a cushy position at the capital. Right now, he's expected to hold the fort and keep his head down. He can ill afford a controversy on his hands, which will be sure to happen if he intervenes."
"So we're simply a place of exile for an outmaneuvered politician?"
"Don't forget what planet we are on." Royce emphasized. "To the Republic, Cloudy Curtain is one of Bentheim's bread baskets. As long as it keeps supplying cloud rice, they don't really care how developed our industries are."
At the very least, Ves and the Pioneers agreed that Cloudy Curtain deserved to be more than a farm planet. That was why Ves rejected closer ties. They largely worked towards the same goal already.
"Let's get back to business." Ves turned his attention back to the real matters at hand. "Our first shipment of raw materials has arrived, right?"
"Yup. Enough to build four comechs. You wanted to fabricate the Marcus Aurelius first, right? Don't you think it's better to start with the Caesar Augustus and gain some proficiency?"
He shook his head. "I already mastered its design and most of its nuances. At my level of proficiency, I won't gain anything new after fabricating sixteen copies of the Caesar Augustus. I'm more anxious about finishing the most important orders first. Those who paid the most should get priority over those who ordered our regular products."
Ves had plenty of reasons to hurry up with the Marcus Aurelius models. For one, a couple of mech portals obsessed over the Marcus Aurelius. Those who experienced the show model up close gave out glowing remarks. Those who heard about the auction from afar savaged the design for being grossly overpriced.
While the auction contract didn't include the option for buyers to cancel their orders, Ves didn't want them to regret their bids. Fulfilling their orders as soon as possible should alleviate the criticism he received because the model would become more accessible this way.
Besides, fulfilling these orders also netted him almost half a billion credits in gross revenue. That was easy money, especially since he only had to deliver three additional mechs besides the original show model.
For the upcoming batch of mechs, Ves gathered Carlos and Cyril who returned from the MTA.
"The Marcus Aurelius is a prestige design. The frames have to come out flawlessly from our workshop. I'm going for perfection this time. Speed is not an issue."
"Do you want to utilize both production lines at once?" His new chief suggested. "The old one can be used to fabricate the less important parts while the newer one can do the bulk of the armor and other delicate components."
"No. It's important to give the models the impression that they're handmade by me. Even the most unassuming bolt needs to be fabricated with the best machine we have. We'll stick to the new production line."
While Ves wanted to fulfill his orders quickly, the Marcus Aurelius demanded perfection. Even the tiniest flaws that the MTA didn't care about had to be eliminated from the start.
With their new stock of raw materials, they proceeded to fabricate the three models one at a time. The relatively measured pace of fabrication and assembly ensured that Ves could maintain his concentration over long stretches of time. This empowered the finished product's X-Factor and ensured they didn't suffer from any deficiencies.
It took nine days to complete the three mechs. Even if Ves wanted to take it slow, the fast and efficient Dortmund printer ensured a brisk pace. Ves sent them off to the MTA for certification, upon which they'd be shipped to Bentheim on a high priority berth in the next convoy.
Even though Ves claimed that he already mastered the Caesar Augustus and its derivatives, they still learned many new tricks. Carlos and Cyril especially gained a lot from the experience, the former due to his lack of experience and the latter due to his unfamiliarity with the design.
They both provided essential assistance that saved a lot of time. When Ves moved on to fulfilling the orders for the Caesar Augustus Eternal Edition, they transitioned into a well-oiled machine that pumped out a frame every two days.
The workshop became a lot busier once Cyril recruited his first crop of mech technicians. He settled for ten bright young men and women who came from all over Cloudy Curtain.
The young technicians didn't possess impressive resumes, but Cyril recruited them anyway for their other qualities. Their relative youth and boundless optimism fit well in a young and growing company.
"Their qualifications aren't important. Anything can be trained so long as you put in the effort." Cyril remarked to Ves as he watched the technicians fumble around a practice project on the old production line. "What I'm really looking for are blank slates. It's essential for a workshop to be staffed by a core of true believers. These local technicians can be shaped and molded to fit your needs."
Basically, Chief Cyril aimed to replicate the same methods that the Larkinsons used on him. It sounded a bit manipulative to brainwash the recruits from fresh, but this was standard practice from the factory floor to the military. At this stage, Ves didn't require an abundance of competent technicians to assist him in his work. It was better for the LMC to lay a good foundation.
Ves didn't even bother to learn their names. All of the young men and women pretty much considered Ves to be a god. After all, he managed to earn billions of credits in revenue in a single event.
The difference in status between Ves and the average person had widened to such an extent that it rivaled the vast distance between galaxies. Ves had truly ascended into the ranks of upper society.
In general, if Ves needed anything trivial done, he told Cyril or Carlos, who delegated the actual job to the closest technician at hand. Thus, a three-layer hierarchy came into being with Ves as the emperor and the mech technicians as the plebians.
For the most part, this kept Ves from being disturbed as he did his work. While Carlos didn't have much of a talent for leadership, the mech technicians loved him for being a relatable mech designer, never mind that he never actually designed a commercial mech.
In short, his workshop experienced remarkable changes that elevated it from a tiny mech boutique to a proper mech manufacturing site. The backlog of orders ensured that the mech technicians witnessed first-hand how an actual mech came into being.
Once Cyril brushed up their fundamentals, they even became more involved with the fabrication of the mechs. By the time Ves finished his fifteenth and last Caesar Augustus, their assistance sped up the fabrication process by at least twenty percent.
Ves sighed in relief once he fulfilled the most important set of orders. Having delivered all the premium models before their customers could back out of the transaction lifted a weight off his mind. "Now we're really going to pick up our speed. It's already been more than a month and we still have over thirty mechs to go."
The advantage of leaving the Marc Antony Mark II Eternal Edition as last became evident at this stage. All ten mech technicians gained enough proficiency by now that they could be trusted to handle more important tasks. Along with the fact that the Mark II utilized uncompressed armor, Ves managed to fabricate a single frame in less than a day.
Another month went by as they maintained a rapid pace. Shipments flew in and out of his workshop almost daily as the workshop pumped out mech after mech. Even though Ves pushed the pace to the limit, he never exceeded it and risked losing control.
The constant, repetitive work sapped some of the excitement out of his mech technicians, but it also indoctrinated them fully into his company. Through constant nurturing by Carlos and Cyril, the workers became immersed in a workplace culture that emphasized initiative, cooperation and excellence.
"What about efficiency?" Cyril asked when Ves presented them with his outline for the kind of workplace culture that he wanted to foster. "Initiative and excellence sound good and all, but free-thinking mech technicians have a tendency to go off the beaten path and decide on inefficient methods."
"As long as my mechs retain their quality, I don't care. Efficiency is important, but don't forget that my aim has always been the high-end mech market. My profit margins are high enough that I don't have to be the best in the industry in this area. It's more important to ensure a constant flow of flawless mechs. They might even benefit from a touch of individuality."
In the meantime, many of his customers have already received his products. With the spread of his prestige mechs, Ves created another minor buzz in the mech scene.
Two different CEOs won the auctions for the highly exclusive Marcus Aurelius. As soon as they received the mechs and transferred the payments, they displayed them prominently in front of their company headquarters.
The locations turned into local sensations with the placement of the new mechs. The strong X-Factor radiating from the frames exerted a subtle but pervasive influence to anyone that visited the offices. Those who worked there day-to-day slowly adopted different work patterns.
In particular, they lost some of their short-sightedness and showed more consideration to the future. Whether these changes benefited the companies in question, Ves wasn't sure, but their stature had solidified the Marcus Aurelius as a remarkable design.
The more numerous Caesar Augustus Eternal Edition provoked a lot of comparisons with the original edition. A couple of mech portals borrowed access to the Eternal Edition and conducted an in-depth look on what Ves had done to make them so special.
They came away with a lot of puzzlement. For some reason, each mech overperformed in a single aspect, and they couldn't find a mechanical reason for this deviation. They also couldn't make heads or tails of the auras, though they definitely basked in the sensation.
Among the norm with gold label mechs, Ves included one of Lucky's unique performance-enhancing gems in the cockpit. The mystical gems worked their magic silently as he stamped each of them with the Anonymizing Stamp. With the promotion of the DarkSpear, Ves could easily afford the 100 DP it took to stamp each gem, though the numbers added up a bit.
With the addition of over a 100,000 DP, Ves had refrained from spending them until he finished his current set of orders. Even though he could benefit from improving his various Assembly Skills, he didn't strictly require any help. He'd rather save the points for more important Skills.
Almost every day, Ves turned on his Privacy Shield and explored the options provided by the System. As the time to design an original mech came within reach, he faced a difficult choice in his development strategy.
Should he widen or deepen his base of knowledge?
Chapter 231
Regarding the Mech Designer System, Ves had many ideas on where to spend his DP. The most luxurious one would be to upgrade his stealth module on his comm, but that drained pretty much all of his recent earnings.
"It's better to spend them on skills and attributes this time."
The more he thought about the prospect of designing an original mech, the more he realized the daunting nature of the endeavor. Not only did he have to make a functional mech, he also had to make it sell.
A peculiar trend in the mech industry was that mechs with strong strengths and weaknesses sold better than they ought to. This pattern became especially prevalent in the lower segments of the market.
They considered balanced mechs with no obvious traits the safe and boring option. Many of the mainstream models throughout the galactic rim, heartland and center consisted of these kinds of mechs. Even if they were as flavorless as water, their excellent quality control and lack of exploitable weaknesses made them safe to deploy in large amounts.
Generally, the mech industry believed that newcomers should focus on their strengths rather than balance out their weaknesses. Mech pilots sought out mechs that complimented their strengths. Even if their favorite models came with caveats, knowing about them beforehand allowed them to mitigate these weaknesses.
"It's probably too much to aim for upgrading a Skill to Journeyman-level." Ves considered as he finalized the shipment of the final mechs.
Excluding the original show models, Ves completed the fabrication of three copies of the Marcus Aurelius, fifteen copies of the Caesar Augustus Eternal Edition and around thirty-four copies of the Marc Antony Mark II Eternal Edition.
All of this should have taken more than a year in his old workshop, but with his new machines and mech technicians, he finished it all in just over two months. The speed at which his workshop completed the orders showcased the benefits of superior capital and labor.
"It's a bit daunting to sit around so many expensive machines. I also have to be responsible for my workers."
Even when Ves hired Carlos, Calsie and Gavin to help him manage the Living Mech Corporation, he always felt alone. In essence, he never really shed the sense that it was essentially a one-man operation.
Now, with the addition of eleven pairs of hands on the workshop floor, every day has become lively. Even as they finally finished all the limited edition mechs, they still had a busy week ahead with the fabrication of the regular silver label Mark II's.
One benefit of his high-profile participation in the Vintage Festival was that the demand for his products spiked up. Marcella often received solicitations for Ves to fabricate a Marcus Aurelius or a Caesar Augustus.
Sadly for the latecomers, Ves had no intentions of reducing the scarcity of those mechs. They stopped being rare if too many copies circulated in the market.
Thus, most customers turned away when they heard that Ves stopped providing mechs of that caliber. The only model Ves offered freely were the silver label Mark II's. His well-practiced mech technicians eagerly tackled the challenge of fabricating the Mark II's without direct involvement from Ves.
With Carlos and Chief Cyril watching over the eager men and women, Ves had nothing to worry about on that end. They used the new production line for the silver label Mark II's, which not only sped up the work, but also ensured the quality of the finished components.
The LMC sold an average of three silver label Mark II's per week. Despite tripling the rate of production, the drastically higher resource costs meant that his gross profits hadn't really increased all that much.
At this time, Ves also finished tallying up his finances for the end of the fiscal year.
Excluding the recent orders, the LMC accumulated around 700 million credits in regular business activities. The sum consisted of the investment made by the Larkinson family, the profits from fulfilling orders for the gold and silver label Mark II's and the compensation for fulfilling 'irregular' orders.
To make the long story short, Ves earned around a billion credits in gross profits from the entire event. While Ves received more than that as payment for delivering the mechs, the painfully high resource costs as well as the minor cut to his mech broker reduced his earnings.
When Ves added various fees such as a one percent cut to the organizers of the festival and the various shipping and insurance costs, Ves should thank his lucky stars that he still retained a billion credits.
Ves only briefly enjoyed the massive sum his company accumulated. Every business had to pay taxes, and the LMC was no different. Even though it benefited from several exemptions meant to ease the burden on startups, the LMC still had to cough up money to the planet and the state at an effective tax rate of twenty percent. The company paid fifteen percent to the central government and five percent to Cloudy Curtain's local government.
Furthermore, he also had to reserve money to pay for his other annual expenses. This included his electricity bill, which ballooned once the company gained the new production line. It also included the annual compensation for Sanyal-Ablin for its combined security, convoy shipment and insurance costs.
"I also can't forget to add the interest payment for the old loan."
After deducting a depressing amount of expenses to his company's account, the LMC was left with only 1.4 billion credits in liquid cash.
"It's not the windfall I hoped for, but it's still a huge pile of money."
Ves amply met his goal of raising a vast sum of money. While it took a short couple of months to earn this sum, he finally gained some options with regards to completing his set of licenses.
Right now, without a solid draft for his first design, he held off on shopping for component licenses.
"It's like baking a pie. Even though I already know the type of pie I want to bake, I still don't know if I want the filling to be apples or blueberries."
He had to be careful with acquiring the right component licenses. With stagnant profits, Ves could not rely on his company to raise more cash in the event he wasted his current savings.
The main problem he faced right now was that Ves felt apprehensive about drafting an initial outline for his design. He vaguely sensed a gap in his mind that warned him that he missed something essential to design a good original mech.
Over the past couple of months, this feeling grew stronger, to the point where it even haunted his dreams. Specters of possible futures where he introduced his first original design with bombast, only to be ridiculed by the mech industry happened every night.
"What am I missing?" Ves puzzled over his conundrum. Was it an experience? Inspiration? Skills?
Even without spending his DP, Ves considered himself to be amply prepared for the task. Many other Apprentice Mech Designers published their first original designs without the help of the System.
Leaving out the freaks and the direct disciples, Ves should be one of the most prepared Apprentice Mech Designers without an original design in his belt.
Perhaps he needed a break. Ves had worked non-stop for the last couple of months. Even though he mastered his new equipment and refined his Assembly skills through constant repetition, he still found the work to be tedious, especially since he had to focus his mind to imbue his mechs with the X-Factor.
"I've been wondering if you were still human." Chief Cyril joked as Ves admitted his frustrations. "You've worked harder than any of us. Even I take a couple of days off. The way you're putting all your passion in your mechs is admirable, but if your entire life resolves solely around designing and fabricating mechs, then you're no different from a human-shaped bot."
The remark startled Ves. When was the last time he put down his work and relaxed? He couldn't even recall something as simple as that. "It's not easy getting my company up its feet. I only got this far because of all the effort I put into my career."
Even Carlos shook his head when he heard those words. "Ves, you've got to learn to relax. Even when we studied at Rittersberg, we still partied a lot, remember? What happened to the old Ves?"
"The old, average loser Ves made way for a successful founder and mech designer."
"You'll die an early grave if you keep that up." Cyril warned with a serious tone in his voice. "I get that you're focused on your work. You always achieve great results when you put your full heart and soul into your mechs. But damnit, you're draining your life!"
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"What I mean is that you should find some meaning in your life! Get a hobby, play some games, go on a vacation! Hell, the best way to cure workaholism is to get a girlfriend!"
"Hah! Don't talk about girlfriends with Ves! It's his sore spot." Carlos snorted.
Ves automatically ignored any talk about getting a girlfriend. Instead, he fixated on a particular term his chief technician uttered. "Find the meaning in life, huh?"
For the first time in months, Ves got the sense that he grasped a straw in the dark. The puzzle that forced him to stall his plans to design an original mech became a bit more comprehensible.
His subordinates showed him the light. Even if they joked around a bit, they still showed their concern. Besides mechs, Ves really had nothing else to occupy his life. Small things like playing with Lucky or talking to his relatives over the comm didn't count. He lacked any form of fulfillment besides his work.
To be honest, even if he realized this deficiency, he still felt reluctant about spending time on something else than progressing his career. He truly enjoyed designing mechs and running his company.
"What else can I do, then?"
"A lot of mech designers back in Rittersberg joined a club. There are countless clubs that cater to overworked professionals like you. There's golf clubs, painting clubs, gaming clubs, drama clubs, shuttle racing clubs and more. Whatever hobby you can mention, there's a bunch of men and women who enjoy doing their hobbies together. Everything's better if you share it with others."
That sounded fine on a major planet like Rittersberg or Bentheim, but a lightly populated planet like Cloudy Curtain probably didn't offer such a sheer variety of clubs.
Besides, Ves didn't even know what kind of hobby he should take.
Fortunately, Chief Cyril had some sage advice for him. "You should look into a creative pursuit rather than a sports activity. Mech design involves both art and science. While it's necessary to be proficient in science and engineering, you also need to flex your creativity. Many mech designers find a hobby for themselves to find inspiration for their next designs. Their ideas don't fall from the sky, you know."
His chief technician's words resonated with the doubts that lurked in his mind. He forgot about this essential truth in mech design.
The creative element distinguished mechs designed by bots from mechs designed by actual humans. Even though the latter might be prone to flaws and inefficiencies, the creative solutions employed by a human designer often led to better results on the battlefield.
The whole industry revolved around this nuance. The sheer variety of mechs being designed every day led to a vibrant mech market where a customer could ask for a mech in any possible shape or form.
While only a small portion of designs achieved commercial success, even the failures added something of value to the industry.
All of this enlightened Ves to the need to enrich his life. Without any other life experiences, how could he know what was best for his original design?
That still begged the question of what kind of hobby he should pick up.
Chapter: 232
Ves considered designing mechs his life's calling. Since his birth into the Larkinson family, his upbringing constantly centered around mechs. Even after finding out that he'd never be able to interface with a mech, he switched his goals to designing them after a low spell.
Strangely enough, Ves never questioned his singular obsession with mechs. In the Age of Mechs, that shouldn't be a problem for most people, but mech designers had it different.
A mech designer designed mechs. While that sounded like a pleonasm, it actually hid a fundamental truth: a mech designer combined his knowledge and life experiences to shape a unique mechanical war machine into being.
What was a mech designer without much life experience? A bot. A run-of-the-mill cookie-cutter designer who studied from the same mainstream textbooks referenced by countless other designers.
"Is this why apprenticing to a Master and seeking fortune in danger is so important?" Ves hummed to himself. He felt as if he parted the veil behind an essential truth in the field of mech design. "Mech designers that lead monotonous lives will inevitably gravitate towards designing monotonous mechs."
He thought back on all the innovative designs he came across. From the glorious, larger-than-life Caesar Augustus to the gimmicky spear-dashing Hoplite, all of these unique creations possessed a spark of personality that no sane designer could have ever come up with if they holed up in a design studio all day.
Despite their various flaws, the personal touch imbued in their designs turned them into unforgettable classics that lived on in the annals of mech history.
What about the Star Designers, the very best designers in the galaxy? Legends like Apollo, The Polymath and The Armorer all possessed colorful biographies filled with excitement, struggle and tragedy. They persevered, threw their lows and rode their highs towards the very top of the tallest mountain in the galaxy.
Even then, they still sought even greater heights, always grasping towards the unattainable heavens above.
"That's still too far away from me." Ves shook his head. Who was he kidding? Forget about reaching the heavens, he still hadn't finished his first climb. "Let's find a hobby first."
What did other people do for fun? Ves decided to ask his employees.
He already knew what Carlos did sometimes in his free time. Even back at Rittersberg, he occasionally sneaked to a game center and immersed himself in one of those casual mech simulation games.
Different from Iron Spirit, these games allowed neural peasants like Carlos and Ves to get a taste of actual piloting with minimal demands on their aptitude. They worked by pre-programming all kinds of moves into the virtual mechs. Players could activate them by issuing only a single mental command.
Rather than call it piloting a virtual mech, Ves considered it more like commanding a robot. He always felt very detached when he played such casual games. Even though the games evolved throughout the years to the point where even beginner pilots could pull off moves mastered by aces, it never felt real enough.
"So that's out."
Ves approached Chief Cyril next. He had a very peculiar hobby.
"I make my own clockwork from scratch. I started with the classics using alloys and woods, and after several years of mastery I moved on to incorporating exotics in my works. It's a great hobby for technicians like me because the skills and patience you learn from assembling clocks will greatly help your ability to put a mech together."
Clocks didn't call out to Ves. As far as he was concerned, if he needed to know the time, he could look up the current time from his comm.
With some reluctance, he started asking his technicians what they did in their free time.
"I like to catch up on the mech duels of the past week with my buddies."
"My father used to be a pro at zero-G rugby. I still play some on the weekends at Freslin's local club."
"I'm part of a bird watcher's association. We're currently lobbying the local government to introduce more species of birds on our planet."
None of these activities appealed to him, but they did give him a sense of what people did for fun. Half of the time they took over the hobbies from their parents. That presented a problem for Ves, as his father was a mech pilot himself.
"What did my dad do in his off time?"
He liked to sit on the porch of their house and watch the murky sky of their home planet. Sometimes he brought out a data pad and read some literature about mundane people facing mundane problems.
Should he sit down and read a book like his father? "I already have to read a lot for my work, so I have no appetite to read anything else for fun."
Ves didn't imagine he'd have so much trouble finding a suitable hobby for him. The more he realized its absence, the more he thought he hadn't been making the most out of his life.
He started dabbling in various kinds of arts.
He tried practicing music, but his complete lack of experience with any kind of instrument made it clear he needed to put in thousands of hours to get somewhere. For someone like Ves, that took way too much time.
He switched to painting next, only to get frustrated by his inability to translate his vision onto the campus. Besides requiring a lot of specialized skills and finesse, Ves also found the process to be tedious.
Figuring he had nothing left to lose, Ves tried out a couple of virtual games on his terminal. He tried his hand at being a battlefield commander ordering around virtual troops, an infantryman fighting against aliens in the trenches and a ship captain who tried to bring his battered ship home.
None of the games held his interest for long. Ves already worked in a sector closely related to war and conflict. Playing the role of a combatant was a nice fantasy, but he'd rather stick with his current job.
He also played some of the sillier popular games. He pretended to be an anthropomorphic pony in a fairytale world or engaged in a detective game where he tried to solve a fictional city's chicken theft spree.
The lack of depth and the substantial amount of detachment in these games bored Ves to tears. "Anyone who plays these games are either kids or adults looking to escape reality."
So even virtual games couldn't stoke his passion. Ves scratched his head and sighed. "I'm such a quintessential mech head. My entire life is geared towards mechs!"
It was not as if he understood where others got their enjoyment from their hobbies. They simply didn't resonate with Ves. His body and mind had been wired in a different way to most people, and it received a further transformation from his adventure at Groening IV.
"I've got alien genes in my body. Maybe that's got to do with my lethargy."
He couldn't deny that Ves still didn't understand his body. Even though he regularly visited a specialist from Sanyal-Ablin, he still felt a bit unsettled by the changes wrought by the additional organs in his body.
His Jutland organ still continued to circulate an invisible energy loop in his body. While his treatments helped subside some of the organ's strange effects, Ves always considered it with a wary eye.
For this reason, Ves declined to participate in any sports. His posthuman body gave him an unnatural advantage in this area. Many sports clubs automatically bar their gates towards any genetic deviants like him. They wanted to maintain an even playing field for the most numerous species of mankind.
"I can't blame them for doing so. They'll unleash a race towards hybridization if they allow people who muck up their genetics with alien traits in their ranks."
Ves considered taking a hobby closer to his calling, such as constructing functional scale miniatures or designing so-called 'fantasy mechs'.
The latter consisted of designing mechs using technology or principles beyond humanity's reach. In many cases, this referred to magic.
Several popular virtual games took place in a low-tech fantasy environment. The mechs that sometimes appeared in these settings ran on either pure magic or a combination of magic and technology. They provided an alternative to those who wanted to play with mechs but didn't wish to simulate reality so closely.
He briefly considered diving into this world, but begged it off after a while. "If I'm going to escape from my work, I better not be doing the same thing."
By now, even his subordinates grew exasperated by his ineptness at finding a distraction. Carlos tutted at him with a tired expression. "For heaven's sake, Ves, just get off your butt and go take a walk or something. There's plenty of things to do in downtown Freslin."
"I'm kind of under constant threat right now. My security guards advised me against taking casual walks outside. Who knows how many greedy criminals are waiting to kidnap me outside."
The LMC made a fortune out of its recent sales. No one could hide that fact, especially since dozens of news portals published articles about his products. The more money he accumulated, the more scrutiny he attracted.
Few of those gazes had the best intentions in mind.
Frankly, Ves started to feel that his current security arrangements could use some adjustment. Melkor and Raella helped by patrolling with their mechs, but Ves could hardly demand they stay inside their mechs for an entire day.
Work constantly tempted him back, but he resisted. "The workshop doesn't need me right now."
At the moment, the LMC only produced the silver label Mark II's. That didn't mean the design posed no challenges, but with Carlos on hand, his employees should be able to handle any problems themselves.
The new workplace culture started to show its effects. Under a combination of positive reinforcement and leading by example, Chief Cyril managed to instill the mech technicians with a sense of initiative. They loosened up and started giving out suggestions on how to improve particular processes.
Even if their ideas turned out to be brain-dead stupid, at least they made an effort. Ves had no wish to turn his company into a soulless profit-driven enterprise where its workers were treated like cogs in a machine. Carlos often complained about being treated like dirt in his previous job as a quality control inspector at a major mech manufacturing plant.
Ves turned back to his quest to find a hobby. He even asked Lucky if he had any suggestions on what to do. The mechanical cat let out a puzzling meow before turning back to munching on a chunk of minerals, tail swishing lazily all the while.
"Okay then. Enjoy your meal."
Should he simply give up on his search or find a girlfriend to spend his time with? Ves quickly ruled out these options.
"Maybe I should go on a vacation."
He considered spending time on a retreat not too far away from home. While Ves liked to experience a change in scenery, he didn't wish to stay aboard a ship for weeks at a time. He couldn't afford to take too much time out of work.
The idea stood out as a great way to experience something new without making a substantial commitment to his time. With the speed of his Barracuda, he could easily reach most star systems within Bentheim's sphere of influence in a couple of days.
Ves browsed through a selection of nearby star systems and planets. Every settled planet in the Republic offered something unique to tourists. Even a boring place like Cloudy Curtain turned into a refuge for those that lived on worlds with very strong suns.
He paused flicking through the destinations when he came across an aquatic planet called Moira's Paradise. Water covered the entire globe except for a couple of artificial islands. Its settlers built many cities underwater.
While the planet originally offered very little in the way of aquatic flora and fauna, its enterprising citizens imported many remarkable alien wildlife into its ecosystem. They even managed to get their hands on a couple of exotic creatures that could only be found in the galactic heartland or the galactic center.
All of them deserved a closer look.
Chapter 233
Once Ves set his mind on his destination, he moved quickly. He browsed the galactic net for holiday options and selected a vacation package catered to the rich.
Ves booked a ticket aboard an advanced aquatic cruise ship that provided guided tours around Moira's Paradise. He paid 300,000 credits for the lowest-level package, which provided him with a basic cabin that nevertheless exceeded the standard of any 5-star hotel on Cloudy Curtain.
The tier above that offered him a roomier berth, a higher priority on visiting the various sights and premium service aboard the cruise ship. That sounded nice and all, but anyone who wanted to take advantage of these luxuries had to cough up 5 million credits a pop.
"That's not even considering the upper tiers."
Moira's Paradise attracted a decent amount of tourists from the neighboring states. The ocean planet worked hard to diversify its ecosystem to the point where it became a regional attraction. It offered a handful of unique exotic creatures that couldn't be found elsewhere in the Komodo StarSector.
"There's also the aquatic mechs to consider. I've never been exposed to that scene."
An entire subculture developed around aquatic mechs. Any settled planet with oceans of water or other liquids required a whole different paradigm if you wanted to invade or defend it. Any regular mechs that fell into a boundless ocean quickly sank to the bottom until the increasing pressure crushed it like a can.
Aquatic mechs had to comply with two essential demands. First, it had to be able to handle the crushing pressure. Second, it had to be waterproof. This led to the adoption of heavily armored fish or mermen-shaped mechs propelled by powerful jets as the norm in aquatic combat.
Weight formed less of a concern than elsewhere, allowing aquatic mech designers to stuff their mechs full of goodies that would have slowed a mech on land to a crawl.
In addition, aquatic warfare often occurred within knife-fighting range. The only viable form of long-range combat consisted of flinging torpedoes at each other. At close ranges, railguns, harpoons and ballistic rifles became viable, but not ideal. In third-rate states, melee combat dominated the oceans.
Having booked his ticket, Ves packed up his bags and brought along Lucky and Raella for the ride. When she heard he wanted to take her along for the ride, she looked a little put off.
"It's great that you're finally bringing me away from this boring as hell planet, but why aren't you going somewhere exciting? Moira's Paradise is a tourist trap! Hardly anything happens over there! Even the BLM doesn't bother with the place."
"It's either you or Melkor, and he's already had his turn. Besides, don't you want to see the aquatic mechs up close?"
"Who cares about those fish mechs? Besides, my Vektrix is absolutely useless without solid beneath her feet. I won't be of any use to you."
"Just come with me. I need someone I trust at my side."
With some reluctance, Raella eventually relented. She exacted a promise from Ves to bring her along if he went on another adventure. Ves privately thought she might have to wait for years, as he didn't plan to risk his life anytime soon.
They boarded the Barracuda and made their way to Moira's Paradise on a direct FTL transition. As a binary star system, it possessed a powerful pair of suns that made it relatively easy for the Barracuda to hone in on its coordinates. The corvette traversed the distance in a matter of days before reaching the edge of the star system.
Another day went past as the corvette made its way to the inner system and descended onto one of the few artificial islands dotting the surface of Moira's Paradise. They made it well in time before their cruise ship debarked from the island's port.
The massive submersible cruise ship looked like a starship with a streamlined shape. When Ves first caught sight of the Nautilus of the Deep, he found its scale to be as impressive as the luxury passenger ships plying the stars.
Ves, Raella and Lucky joined an orderly line of well-dressed passengers before the ramp. Considering the ticket price, none of the people possessed average backgrounds. The line moved quickly as an army of attendants processed their tickets and checked over their belongings.
Raella had to leave her pistol and her knife behind. The crew of the Nautilus took responsibility for their security for the most part, though Ves heard of tales where passengers resorted to fists.
"Mr. Larkinson?" A uniformed attendant called once he boarded the ship. "My name is Georgina Black. I'll be your first point of contact for your stay aboard the Nautilus of the Deep. If you have any concerns or requests, feel free to contact me in person or through my comm!"
They exchanged comm contacts before Georgina led him to his cabin in the lower decks. For 300,000 credits, the room appeared sufficiently lavish. Its blue-gold embellishments added a deep-sea ambiance to the place. Ves and Raella handed their floating coffers to the cabin bots, which automatically sorted out their clothes and other belongings.
"The Nautilus will depart in two hours. Please make your way to the middle observation deck at that time. We'll be commencing the first part of our tour at that time."
After mentioning a few other points of notice, Georgina left the guests to their devices. Raella already started to yawn. "It's dull here. Let's visit the shopping boulevard!"
The pair proceeded to enter the shopping boulevard set in the upper decks of the Nautilus. A transparent, retractable dome allowed strong sunlight to fall upon the boulevard. Plenty of guests have already set their sights on the luxury products in the displays. Raella pretty much raced towards the clothing stores.
Meanwhile, Ves strolled through the electronics and gadget stores. All kinds of conveniences could be bought for a pretty sum. A couple of products had even been imported from the Coalition, such as comm modules that sold for 500,000 credits.
The boulevards offered plenty of space for those who didn't feel inclined to spend so much money. Kids ran around the open park areas while older boys tried to woo the girls they came across. Couples sat together admiring the statues and other artwork that enlivened the interior.
Ves picked up a variety of accents from their conversations. He even caught a few Coalition speech patterns, most notably from the Carnegie Group. They possessed the most open culture within the Friday Coalition. It made sense that the more adventurous among them spent their holidays abroad where their purchasing power turned them into royals.
"What would someone like Oleg think when he visits the Republic?"
He'd probably be astounded by the lack of development of his state. The Bright Republic offered few prospects to elites like him. He deserved to perform on a greater stage.
Ves milled around for a while but refrained from purchasing anything. Even if his company's accounts are strained with cash, the money should be spent on investments rather than useless consumer goods.
Besides, sitting in the park watching people go about their lives relaxed him in a soothing way. Here, he could let down his worries and forget about the concerns that weighed him down.
For the next ten days, Ves resolved to lay down his job as a mech designer and enjoy the sights like a normal tourist. Already he could feel the benefits of his decision to spend his time on Moira's Paradise. The harmonious environment cleansed his mind and soothed away the stresses that had been accumulating without his notice.
A tranquil mood settled in as Ves waited until Raella returned with a few bags of clothes. Ves had provided her with a generous allowance this time. After handing the bags off to a service bot that brought them back to their cabin, the pair followed the directions towards the middle observation deck.
The Nautilus featured an extendable hump at the upper part of her hull that provided a commanding view of the artificial island and the boundless ocean. Ves and Raella arrived in time and met up with Georgina, who gathered up around thirty other passengers.
"Alright, everyone is here!" The attendant clapped. "Welcome aboard the Nautilus of the Deep. As the most premier cruise ship on Moira's Paradise, the Nautilus offers the highest level of comfort and protection to our guests. Again, if you have any concerns, please feel free to inform me. Now, without further ado, let us set off!"
A low shudder ran throughout the massive ship. The Nautilus groaned before slowly edging away from her berth at the island's port. With deceptive slowness, the massive cruise ship flung herself forward and built up a considerable amount of speed and momentum.
As the island began to recede, a handful of aquatic mechs swam around the Nautilus. Their powerful jet engines easily kept up with the cruise ship's massive starship-sized propulsion.
After the excitement died down, Georgina detailed their schedule for the next ten days. "The Nautilus will be bringing you along some of the best sights our planet has to offer. In the first leg of our journey, we'll be submerging ourselves into the Vermillion Sea. You'll be able to see some of our many exotic creatures up close and learn why they are treasured by the galaxy!"
A projection came into being that showed off some of these alien creatures. None of them appeared monstrous, which was likely a deliberate decision by the rulers of Moira's Paradise. No need to scare the kids away.
"Next, we'll be visiting Fort MacLellan, a neutral, sovereign bulwark built to resist an alien invasion. Built and maintained by the MTA, this mobile, floating fortress features many advancements prevalent in the center of the galaxy. Much of its areas remain off-limits, but they offer limited access to vetted visitors. Not to worry, anyone who's currently aboard our ship is already cleared."
The projection showed an intimidating mass of construction the size of downtown Freslin. It was shaped like an oval and moved through the water with unknown means. Squads of aquatic mechs emerged from various launching points around the floating fortress.
Its smooth, thick hull gave the illusion that MacLellan functioned like a turtle. Ves wasn't fooled. Even as he recognized the precious exotic alloys used in its construction, he also spotted the outlines of giant, retractable hatches that undoubtedly covered enormous weapon emplacements.
"Fort MacLellan also offers distinguished guests a tour of their first-class aquatic mechs. VIPs and those who pay a fee are granted greater privileges in this tour. Please check the details in the virtual guide that's been sent to your comm."
First-class mechs was an informal term that people used to refer to mechs built to the standards of a first-rate superstate. The vast majority of the mechs that Ves encountered in the Republic consisted of only third-class mechs, while the Coalition had it better with their second-class mechs.
In truth, the designs utilized by Fort MacLellan consisted of bottom-tier first-class mechs. If any mech pilot showed up to a duel with a bottom-tier mech, they'd be laughed away before they get a chance to fight.
Still, a pauper mech from a first-rate state turned into a kingly steed the moment it entered the galactic rim. Even Ves looked forward to seeing first-class mechs in the flesh.
"After experiencing the majesty of the MTA, we'll be descending to the deepest depths of the Vermillion Sea and arrive at Cava City, the entertainment capital of Moira's Paradise. Cava city offers great opportunities for art enthusiasts in its sector-renowned museums. Fancy some shows from Cava City's renowned theaters? Refer to the virtual guide and let us book your tickets on your behalf."
Cava City offered much more than museums and plays. The place had become notorious for its freewheeling gambling and competitive aquatic mech scene. While Bentheim held the crown for landbound and aerial mechs, Moira's Paradise was a mecca for amphibian and aquatic mechs.
Chapter 234
The Nautilus submerged after the guides finished their introductions. Ves noticed that the crew arranged different guides to different groups. Some preferred bots while others preferred no guide at all. The VIPs even had a full staff catering to their every need.
As for Ves, he preferred staying in a group. The surrounding people already started introducing themselves as they waited for the Nautilus to reach the required depths in the Vermillion Sea.
Ves introduced himself as an independent mech designer, which didn't raise a lot of eyebrows. There were bankers, socialites, shipping magnates and scientists among the crowd, and all of them occupied leadership positions of some capacity.
Only a quarter of the tourists dealt directly with the mech industry. Ves found himself drawn to a conversation with a middle-aged shipping magnate named Eddie Zhang.
"So you are predicting an abrupt collapse and rise of prices in exotics? How does that work?" Ves asked with evident confusion.
"Mr. Larkinson, you speak of exotic minerals as if they are all the same. That's a gross oversimplification of the market. The Komodo Star Sector is relatively barren in exotics in both quantity and variety. It's the latter that's been causing anxieties for us. Our neighboring Star Sectors are increasingly tightening the flow of exotics that's been exported from the galactic heartland."
"Are they growing hostile to us?"
Eddie shook his head. "Nothing as nefarious as that. The Vicious Mountain and Majestic Teal Star Sectors have their own internal tension to deal with, so they are basically intercepting any shipments of exotics before they reach our sector. We're the last kid in a very long line of hungry children, and the cafeteria only has so much bread to pass around."
Ves found it ironic that a wealthy man like him with a net worth in the billions used such an allegory.
"But the Komodo Star Sector still produces its own fair share of exotics, right?"
"Yes, and the quantity is sufficient to meet the needs of the domestic industry, but certain types of minerals are too hard to come by. The Bright Republic doesn't make too much use of these expensive imported exotics, but the Coalition and the Hexarchy will be badly affected when they find they can't produce their high-quality second-class mechs in the desired quantities. Once that happens, the knock-on effects will resonate throughout the sector."
"I see now." Ves could also think through the consequences. "Even though the second-class mechs require imported exotics to produce, they also take up a large share of locally sourced exotics. Once the mech manufacturers find themselves bottlenecked by decreasing imports, the local exotic resource market will end up in a glut of unsold exotics."
That could be good and bad for the mech industry in the Republic. Certainly, Ves didn't think it would be that simple and that the LMC would enjoy a reprieve from the rising cost of raw materials.
All of these worries threatened to burden his holiday, so Ves avoided the topic of mechs. As the Nautilus started diving past various colonies of remarkable marine life, the guides started to explain their origin and their notable traits.
"The spirellian spike fish is a notable species of carnivorous fish unique to the Komodo StarSector. The spikes extending out of their bodies are not only incredibly tough, but they also enable the fishes to communicate with each other through extradimensional means. Larger schools of spike fishes are able to pool their power together, to the point where it has been proven that they have been communicating with another school of fish several light-years away."
That required a school of over a million spike fishes, something that the spike fishes on Moira's Paradise couldn't sustain. It sure sounded impressive nonetheless. Seeing the spirellian spike fishes swim in unison in such a coordinated fashion hammered home the beauty of nature.
Throughout the next two days, the Nautilus visited various reefs, volcanic vents and trenches. Each time, the passengers gazed wondrously at the exotic marine life making their homes there.
One of the most notable exotic species consisted of fluorescent amoeba. They actively emitted a rainbow of colored light. These shapeless blob-like creatures not only looked resplendent in the dark, but also hid their thorns very deeply.
"The suryean amoebae are notable for being one of the few species in the galaxy to have weaponized radioactivity. If they are provoked in any fashion, they will burn away most of their energy to flash an intense burst of radioactive light that will fatally affect their attackers. Most often, the amoeba in question will die, but others of its kind will feed on the remains and reproduce."
Just when Ves thought he'd experienced enough exotic species, the aeliotonoc whales took him aback.
"One of our most valuable exo-species consists of the aeliotonoc whales. These whale-shaped, eight-limbed creatures are actually genetic off-shoots of an extinct sentient alien species called the Aylos. If you remember your history lessons, in their early expansion into the galaxy, the Terrans encountered the Aylos. While they were rather slow-witted, these sentient space whales developed a form of FTL that was leagues better than what humanity cobbled together on their own."
The Terrans quickly found out that the Aylos tended to be pacifists, so they outright stole their FTL technology before waging war on them. Utilizing their new ships to their full advantage, they took the Aylos off-guard and wiped them out to the last whale.
Communication between the two species had always been rough, but near the end of this genocide, humanity managed to develop some form of communication with the Aylos. At their final moment, the space whales made a desperate plea for their species to live on, rather than be wiped out from existence.
Since humanity already occupied a commanding position, they assented to the request. Through extensive genetic manipulation, they developed the aeliotonoc whales from the carcass of the once-majestic Aylos species.
Humanity saw it as a final humiliation for a species they vanquished, but the Aylos species considered it a continuation of their lineage.
Nowadays, historians consider the war against the Aylos to be one of humanity's most formative steps to dominating the galaxy. The anti-alien extremists in the Terran government increased their grip on power and began to pursue a policy of rapid expansion and aggression.
This subsequently led to humanity's greater expansion in their origin star sector. Even though they bumped into trouble when they bumped into a regional alien superpower, their boundless ferocity gave them a fighting chance.
What startled Ves about the aeliotonoc whales was not their history, but their mental energy. As the Nautilus gently traversed along a colony of playful whales, his sixth sense started pinging with increased intensity.
Each time a whale did something notable, his sixth sense spiked. The strange sensation totally rooted Ves in place. "How are these creatures so strong?"
Every whale possessed an immense mental strength that Ves could hardly believe at first. Yet despite the power locked in their bodies, the signal they put out was a mass of chaotic noise that easily blended into the background.
"They've got all that strength, but they don't know how to use it."
Ves never really paid too much attention to the history of mankind's early ascent into space. The Aylos species only formed a footnote in their long and contentious rise to the stars. If humanity hadn't stolen their FTL technology and adapted it for their needs, the space whales would have been forgotten by all but the most obscure historians.
Now, he took a second look at their history. What made these whales so remarkable that they needed so much mental strength? How strong were the original Aylos, and how did they utilize their powers?
He approached Georgina when she finished her initial explanation. "Can you tell me more about the aeliotonoc whales?"
"Certainly, Mr. Larkinson. Do you wish to know anything specific?"
"What are the uses of the whales?" He asked.
Every exotic species they encountered offered something useful to the planet. For example, Moira's Paradise cultivated the spirellian spike fishes for their spikes to serve as substitute materials in the construction of quantum entanglement nodes.
"Besides serving as a monument to mankind's defeat of the Aylos, the aeliotonoc whales are harvested as ingredients for high-value psychotropic drugs. Many inexplicable mental conditions can be treated with these drugs."
Georgina didn't know much more about the drugs because it touched upon the core business of the transgalactic drug manufacturers.
She knew more about the empathic nature of the aeliotonoc whales. As a near-sentient aquatic exospecies, the creatures demonstrated a remarkable capacity to bond with any humans they came across.
All of this hinted that the whales possessed exceptional minds. Ves wished to get closer to the creatures, but Moira's Paradise strictly prohibited contact with the aeliotonoc whales except for therapeutic purposes. The Nautilus only lingered for half an hour before its time was up.
The cruise ship made its way deeper into the depths of the Vermillion Sea. Fort MacLellan drifted in the deepest trenches of the planet's oceans.
"The Nautilus will be arriving at Fort MacLellan tomorrow morning." Georgina explained. "Make sure to set your alarms and wake up early if you want to step foot inside the fortress. The MTA maintains a strict schedule and any latecomers will be refused at the gates if they arrive one second too late."
"Why is the floating fortress drifting so deep? Won't the pressure put a lot of stress on its shell?" A kid asked.
Their tour guide smiled along with most of the adults. Almost everyone knew the answer. "That's a good question! Think about what forts are supposed to do. Can you tell me why they have such thick and strong exteriors?"
"So that they can bounce off attacks!"
"Good! Now think about a fort in water and compare it to a fort in space. The latter is surrounded by vacuum, which is another word for empty space. If someone fires a gun at the fort, the vacuum will do almost nothing to prevent it from reaching the fort. Now compare that to Fort MacLellan, which is many kilometers underwater. If you fire a gun from the surface of the ocean, it will only reach a short distance before the projectile loses power."
"Oh, so all of this water is like another form of armor."
"That's right! The deeper you go, the more stuff you put between the fort and any attacks from space. In fact, aquatic planets are often considered fortress planets for their ability to hold off against a siege. That's also the reason why the MTA decided to build Fort MacLellan here."
A tourist with a military background added his own insights to the topic. "Floating fortresses are superior to underground fortresses because they are able to move around. The water already renders most forms of weapons of mass destruction ineffective. Lasers fired from battleships in orbit will get refracted while projectiles lose their momentum. Anything else that gets through will often lose their mark as the fortress has already drifted away."
The floating fortresses also used other means to obscure their presence from wide-area scans. By hiding within the depths of the oceans, these fortresses forced invaders to allocate a lot of resources in combing the waters for their trails.
Such a game of cat and mouse could drag on for years or even decades, making the invaders very miserable. In comparison, conventional underground fortresses were often found within weeks. Their inability to move made their presence obvious once the invaders brought powerful enough scanners.
"So the fort will only be useful if aliens invade our state?"
"Yes. Floating fortresses like Fort MacLellan take a lot of resources to maintain. The Republic isn't able to build one that is good enough to hide against conventional scanners."
After answering a couple of other questions, Georgina left and the tour group dispersed. Just as Ves wondered if he should look up at the space whales on the galactic net, Raella grabbed his arm and dragged him elsewhere.
"Hey, what's going on?"
"I just found out that they're holding a concert in one of the auditoriums. Do you know who's performing? It's Stellar Fantasy, yo! I can't miss seeing them up close!"
And so Ves spent the rest of the day attending a concert.
Chapter 235
The Nautilus of the Deep made her way towards the depths of Moira's Paradise. In this age, humans preferred to live above blue skies and breathe fresh air, but some made do without them. On aquatic planets, the vast majority of the population lived underneath massive domes at the bottom of the oceans.
Fort MacLellan differed from those static settlements by possessing both stealth and mobililty along with a very thick shell. Combined, these traits turned the floating citadel into one of the best protected bulwarks against external threats.
As the Nautilus arrived at the right coordinates, a handful of fast marine shuttles descended onto the cruise ship. Heavily armed security officers in MTA colors scoured over the entire ship from top to bottom. Even Ves and Raella had to be subjected to a couple of scans.
The pair had been cleared to enter Fort MacLellan, but Lucky had to be left behind.
"Our apologies, Mr. Larkinson, but our scans can't penetrate your mechanical companion. For safety reasons, it's best to leave your pet behind."
Ves acquiesced to the demand, especially since the Mech Trade Association guaranteed his security aboard the fort. Besides, if the MTA turned on him for any reason, he doubted Lucky could make a difference. Against the vast might of one of the two most powerful human organizations in the galaxy, nobody could afford to go against their will.
When the fort came into view of the ship, everyone on the observation decks held their voices. The floating fortress appeared as a giant metallic egg with many segmented surface plates, all of which could be retracted to reveal weapon hardpoints or hangar entrances.
At its current state, the fort hid its fangs, but its gigantic size loomed like a constant threat. An estimated fifty-thousand men and women manned the fort, enough to lockdown the entire planet if it stockpiled enough supplies.
Once the Nautilus had been checked, the MTA started shuttling tourists over to the dormant egg. A small hatch opened up to allow the marine shuttles to enter the belly of the beast. A powerful energy screen kept the water at bay. Despite the immense pressure at this depth, the energy screen never flickered from the stress.
Georgina gathered her tour group once the passengers exited the shuttles. She led them through a series of guarded checkpoints through depressing grey corridors.
The entire interior appeared utilitarian to the extreme. Ves spotted hardly any artwork or decorations that could cheer up the people manning the fort. Every service member they passed by maintained dour expressions that spoke of complete dedication to the cause.
"Even the Mech Corps isn't as serious as these dummies." Raella carelessly remarked, which earned him a few glares from the other guests.
It was never a good idea to disrespect the MTA, especially in the middle of one of their strongholds.
"You may be wondering why the service members are unusually focused on their tasks." Georgina said when the atmosphere turned tense. "That is because they are exiled from the galactic center and have been forced to take up a post in the galactic rim. Essentially, they are not here by choice."
"So is everyone here a constript? Isn't that dangerous?"
"Not everyone aboard the MacLellan is a conscript. Half are volunteers sourced from across the Komodo Star Sector. Once they signed up with the MTA, they formally renounced their citizenship to their former states and have become a true galactic citizen. Even if they don't look like it, they all hold very strong fealty to the MTA."
As an organization renowned across the galaxy, the MTA knew how to inspire loyalty in its people. Much of what actually happened inside its halls remained classified, but everyone knew that service members almost never turned against the organization.
Some conspiracy theorists even thought that the MTA injected nanites in their members to influence their thoughts. Since such an act violated a fundamental taboo enforced by the very same organization, no one entertained such ideas.
An MTA public relations officer met with Georgina at the end of a long series of corridors. Unlike most service members, the officer actually smiled.
"Welcome aboard Fort MacLellan! For the next two days, I will be guiding you around the fort. Our first destination is just up ahead. Follow me."
They followed the guide to a massive chamber that hosted a giant cannon barrel the size of a corvette. The sheer size of the thing underscored how powerful the fort could be if it ever bared its fangs.
The PR officer began his speech. "Fort MacLellan hosts many advanced types of weapons, from pulse cannons to antimatter nukes. While I can't speak about most of those armaments, sometimes we find the simplest solution the best solution. This big boy here is a plain old gauss cannon that's been scaled to fit our needs. Just like any weapon that works on electromagnetism, it propels a heavy alloy slug forward at unimaginable speeds. At the right depth, we can even crack a battlecruiser in half."
Everyone got to enter the control room and witness simulations of the super-sized gauss cannon at work. A childish glee took over the guests as they pretended to hurl accelerated slugs at various simulated targets, all projected with an unprecedented level of realism.
After everyone got a round with the cannon, the PR officer brought them along to some other places.
They dropped by the mess hall to experience first-class food.
They visited one of the armories, where they got to hold some very advanced infantry weapons. Tourists who held weapon proficiencies even got to fire them in the practice range. Ves especially found the pulse rifles intriguing.
Pulse weapons served as the standard weapon in the galactic center for its ability to deal both kinetic and thermal damage at the same time. As long as weapon developers paired the technology with sufficiently powerful energy cells and heatsinks, a pulse weapon vastly outlasted conventional ballistic weaponry.
"I'm not a fan of rifles, but this rifle is really awesome!" Raella whooped with enthusiasm as she fired the rifle until it reached its heat capacity. A block of alloy at the range turned into a broken, half-molten mess. "I only drained ten percent of its batteries!"
A lot of other people took note of this, prompting the PR officer to speak up. "Human technology has made enormous strides into increasing the density of our energy cells. In truth, the rifles you are holding are all equipped with the lowest tier of energy cells. It's unfortunate that our heatsink technology hasn't caught up with our needs. Normally, we allow the rifles to vent the heat or eject the sink and replace it with a cold one."
The officer demonstrated the procedure. The spent heatsink came out red hot, to the point of distorting the air around it. If the officer didn't wear a specialized glove, he would have burned his hands down to the bone.
"The more you move to the center of the galaxy, the less restrictions we face in terms of power supply. A cutting-edge mech of the New Rubarth Empire can output enough energy to power a capital ship."
That meant at minimum a battlecruiser, a capital ship crewed by thousands. Battlecruisers possessed enough armaments to wipe out every form of life on a planet such as Bentheim or Rittersberg. The notion that all of that power could be compressed in a single mech completely astounded Ves.
"Does MacLellan have one of those mechs?"
"Sadly, no." The officer smiled as he shook his head. "Such mechs are extremely demanding in their fabrication and maintenance requirements. It would cost as much as the GDP of the Bright Republic to maintain a cutting-edge mech for a single year."
Again, the tourists learned how little the Komodo Star Sector mattered in the greater scheme of things.
"While we don't have a cutting-edge mech to show off, we do have plenty of excellent first-class mechs to offer."
They moved on to one of the many mech stables of Fort MacLellan. Even Ves looked forward to this part, as he had never come across an aquatic mech in his life.
Everyone expressed their awe once they came across the mechs. Every mech looked like giant metallic fish. Only a couple of mechs adopted humanoid traits in their design.
"Much like the aquatic mechs of the Bright Republic, our mech pilots favor hydrodynamic shapes over the increased flexibility of a humanoid aquatic mech design."
"Why don't aquatic mech pilots want arms?"
"Oh, it's not that they hate arms, but they bring more cons than pros when you fight underwater. In practice, the speeds at which aquatic mech combat occurs makes it difficult for a humanoid mech to swing its weapon. Mechs have to fight against the water before they can deal any damage to their opponents."
Humanoid mechs also had a tendency to lose grip on their weapons at higher speeds. They had to lock their weapons to the frame through various means if the mech had to crank up their jet engines. Mech designers might as well adopt a fish-shaped design and embed the weapons along the frame in fixed hardpoints.
"That's not to say that humanoid aquatic mechs serve no use." The man quickly added. "Mechs face less pressure the closer they are to the surface of the ocean. Sometimes, aquatic mechs have to fight against enemies that are on the surface or in the air. Arms provide more flexibility than rigid hardpoints in this case."
They got to visit both varieties of mechs. The first design consisted of a classic merman mech. It possessed a humanoid torso and a fish-like lower body. It's complicated arrangement of scales and flexible internal frame made the lower body as responsive as the body of a snake. It allowed the mech to maneuver through the water with a high degree of control.
With a mech designer's eye, Ves noted that the mech had been fabricated in an absolutely perfect state. Besides some evidence of routine wear and tear, the mech appeared flawless. Other copies of the same model exhibited the same traits.
"How are these mechs produced?" He asked, unable to contain his curiosity. "They don't look like they've been fabricated and assembled with ordinary means."
"That's because we don't fabricate the mechs, we materialize them." The PR officer smiled with pride. "Each design is reproduced from atom to atom with a materializer. You'd have to bring up a lab-grade scanner to notice any discrepancies from the mech and its original design."
"How fast is this process?"
"Oh, it's fairly fast. The best equipment can materialize a mech in less than an hour. Materialization is our most advanced means of producing mechs. Still, it will likely take several hundred years for the technology to proliferate to this corner of the galaxy, as materializers demand a lot of power to run."
While the technology sounded impressive, Ves found the results to be less than stellar. The mechs appeared completely dead to his senses. Even when he strained his Sixth Sense, he encountered nothing but silence.
Even the sloppiest fabricated mech carried some remains from the people who worked on the machine. Ves had never encountered a mech that felt more dead than these aquatic mechs.
A normal mech fabricated by his competitors at least showed some potential for life. Even if their X-Factor ended up in a stillborn state, it still left some remnants that possessed a chance to be revived.
A mech that had been materialized lacked this possibility. The influence of any single human being had been diminished to the point where he had to activate a single command on a materializer. Once he lifted his finger, the materializer did the rest of the work, reproducing the design from atom to atom with precision that only machines could accomplish.
"The future of manufacturing technology is becoming increasingly more soulless." Ves lamented quietly.
The pursuit of speed, efficiency and precision had no limits. Human beings imposed many constraints on these goals, as their wobbly limbs, slow reaction speeds and questionable judgment made it difficult to ensure a perfect production run.
Personal craftsmanship became increasingly more irrelevant in the face of better technology. Ves took a final look at the merman mech and turned away. He completely lost his appetite for MacLellan's mechs.
Chapter 236
Beyond the childlike fascination of witnessing humanity's latest toys at work, Ves thought the visit to Fort MacLellan served another purpose. There was no reason for the MTA to show off its might to the well-heeled tourists of the Nautilus other than to put them in their place.
For Ves, the visit reminded him that the states in the Komodo Star Sector meant nothing to the MTA. As far as they were concerned, the conflicts between the states resembled toddlers fighting over a favored toy.
Still, even the MTA and CFA had their limits. Even though they made a lot of strides in binding the fractured human states together, they never attempted to unite all of humanity into a single galactic empire.
History has shown that such a cause often ended with disaster. Nowadays, the galaxy was big enough to accomodate all kinds of rulers and states. The existences of countless kingdoms, republics, federations, alliances and more attested to the diversity of their race.
After touring a couple more aquatic mechs and other curiosities, the tourists shuttled back to the Nautilus. The final leg of the holiday consisted of a three-long visit to Cava City, the party capital of Moira's Paradise.
The tour organizers offered a lot of options for the passengers to choose. Some preferred to visit the city's seedy gambling dens while others preferred the city's fantastic art scene.
Raella wanted to attend a high-profile aquatic mech duel tournament. Ves on the other hand wanted to find some inspiration by paying a visit to the city's many museums.
"Cava City isn't safe. We shouldn't split up."
"Oh, come on Ves, why do you have to visit those boring museums? If you want to admire some artwork, why don't you look them up from your terminal?"
"A projection is no substitute for the real thing."
"That's what artsy design folk like you would say. To me, it makes no difference!"
They argued a bit but Ves had the upper hand since he paid all the bills. Ves only relented a bit by promising to spend one day at the arena before going off to the museums and art galleries.
"As far as I'm concerned, you're wasting your time." Raella remarked with a touch of spite in her tone.
"Culture is never a waste of time." Ves replied as he registered their plans to the tour operators. They'd receive their priority tickets within the hour. "It takes a lot of creativity to come up with a good design. They don't fall off the sky like apples from a tree."
A mech designer had to come up with something creative in order to make a splash in the market. Many of his rivals forgot about this rule and published generic designs that competed in the same saturated market segments. They'd never be able to beat the mainstream models that have gone through countless rounds of optimization.
As the Nautilus traversed along the bottom of the ocean, Ves considered whether he'd benefit from spending his DP. He eyed his Status and his stagnant Attributes and considered whether to invest in candies that upgraded his Creativity.
[Status]
Name: Ves Larkinson
Profession: Apprentice Mech Designer
Specializations: None
Design Points: 112,530
Attributes
Strength: 1.3
Dexterity: 0.8
Endurance: 1.9
Intelligence: 1.8
Creativity: 1
Concentration: 1.7
Neural Aptitude: F
Skills
[Assembly]: Apprentice - [3D Printer Proficiency III] [Assembler Proficiency III]
[Battle Mechatronics]: Apprentice
[Business]: Apprentice
[Computer Science]: Incompetent
[Electrical Engineering]: Apprentice - [Structural Pathway Configuration II]
[Mathematics]: Journeyman
[Mechanics]: Journeyman - [Jury Rigging III] [Speed Tuning III]
[Metallurgy]: Journeyman - [Alloy Compression II]
[Metaphysics]: Incompetent
[Physics]: Journeyman - [Directed Energy Weapon Optimization II] [Lightweight Armor Optimization I] [Medium Weight Armor Optimization III] [Melee Weapon Optimization II]
[Salvaging]: Apprentice
[Signals and Communications]: Apprentice
Abilities
[Superpublish]: Available. Can be activated once a year.
Evaluation: A post-human mech designer with a random collection of Skills.
Over the months, his physique had stabilized at their current levels. With an endurance of 1.9, his body performed close to the genetic limit of the human race. His strength had also decreased by a significant margin.
For now, Ves ignored his physical Attributes and focused on his mental ones.
"There should be a reason why the System includes Creativity in its Status page."
The industry often repeated the phrase that designing mechs was both an art and a science. Now that Ves faced the prospect of designing his first original mech, he became aware of the importance of those words.
"It's never wrong to invest in my mind.
With a stockpile of over 100,000 DP, Ves had the points to spare. He decided to upgrade his Creativity first. Right now, Ves merely wished to improve his capability to appreciate art.
Ves checked whether his Privacy Shield still worked before purchasing a bunch of candies. "Come on, System, give me the candies!"
[Creativity Attribute Candy]: 1,000 Design Points
[Creativity Attribute Candy]: 1,100 Design Points
[Creativity Attribute Candy]: 1,200 Design Points
[Creativity Attribute Candy]: 1,300 Design Points
[Creativity Attribute Candy]: 1,400 Design Points
[Creativity Attribute Candy]: 1,500 Design Points
[Creativity Attribute Candy]: 1,600 Design Points
[Creativity Attribute Candy]: 1,700 Design Points
[Creativity Attribute Candy]: 1,800 Design Points
The candies materialized before him. Ves had never figured out how the System did that, but now that he learned about materialization, he started to foster some suspicions. He looked at his form-fitting comm resting on his wrist, but no matter how much he stared at it, he couldn't believe it actually packed such a wondrous piece of technology.
Since the System maintained its silence, Ves simply shrugged and started swallowing the candies one after another.
The candies worked their magic in a gentle fashion. Ves found it hard to describe the transformation in his mind. It was as if a gentle breeze blew into his mindscape. Wherever it passed, flowers bloomed and animals grew.
The difference between a Creativity score of 1.0 and 1.9 quickly became apparent. His mind bloomed with possibilities. Ves found it difficult to hold his focus as his senses ceaselessly stimulated his imagination.
Things ceased to become things.
They became something more.
For example, when Ves looked at a half-empty glass of water sitting on the table, his mind started to go off a tangent about its origins. The glass possessed an exquisite design, but Ves could tell it had been mass produced.
He imagined some dirty factory on some rusted planet that had pumped out these glasses on the cheap. His mind made up the tragic backstories of the handful of workers whose job entailed looking after the bots that did the actual work and cleaning up after their messes if they screwed up.
Even the water itself sent his mind into a wild story about how some primordial comet traversed the stars for billions of years before it fell into Moira's Paradise. The Nautilus of the Deep sucked up some of the fallen comet's water molecules out of pure coincidence.
"I've got to get a grip on my mind!" Ves clenched his teeth as he attempted to stop his overactive imagination. "My mind works for me, not the other way around!"
In the end, Ves had to employ his considerable concentration to force his imagination back. He maintained his highly focused state throughout the day until his imagination started to relent.
"That could have been dangerous for me." Ves wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Maybe I should show more consideration for balancing my attributes."
If he didn't possess a strong concentration, then he might have gotten lost in his own world. Ves never imagined that upgrading his Creativity could lead to such a dangerous result.
"The mind is a sensitive domain. I should be more prudent about it. I should stop swallowing all of the candies at once at the very least."
He'd become too complacent of its relatively mild effects. The candies appeared trivial compared to gene boosts that came with very strong side effects.
The ordeal forced him to pause his plans to upgrade his other Skills and Attributes. He had a sense that his imagination still needed to be tamed. Right now, Ves felt as if he birthed an uncontrollable monster in his mind. Without a leash, it could wreak havoc with his mentality.
For the rest of the day, Ves rested in his cabin, only coming out for meals and such. Meanwhile, the Nautilus continued her journey to Cava City without stopping. By the time Ves recovered sufficiently to leave his cabin, the cruise ship reached her destination.
"The city looks huge." Raella uttered as she stared out from the observation deck.
"Millions of people live and work in Cava City. Of course it's huge."
Massive transparent domes littered the bottom of the Vermillion Sea. The domes kept the water out from the man-made construction contained inside. If Cava City faced a threat, the domes could even be covered by armored shutters made out of bulk exotic alloys.
To make their surroundings more attractive, Cava City spent a lot of effort in transforming its surroundings. Powerful lights illuminated the strange and colorful marine flora around the domes. Aesthetically pleasing fish and other marine life made their homes among these alien plants.
Despite the immense pressure at this depth, the plants and fish swayed leisurely along the currents. All the biodiversity gave Cava City the impression of an underwater kingdom.
The Nautilus arrived at a bustling port that hosted many other ships. Once the ship established a connection with the structure, the passengers entered the city in a figurative horde.
Ves entered the city with Raella and Lucky in tow. This time, his cat got to enjoy the sights as well. His cat purred with pleasure once Ves brought him out of the familiar confines of the Nautilus.
Mindful of his security, he also brought along a pair of guards. The cruise organization maintained a partnership with a local security firm that regularly hired out its guards to the passengers of the Nautilus. Ves had to pay an extra fee to get some piece of mind.
Once they stepped out into the nearest dome, they looked around and admired the dynamic structure and the lights flashing from their surface.
"It's so wild here. I like it!" Raella grinned.
"Strange. There's no mechs in sight."
"That's because mechs are prohibited from operating inside the domes." A nearby tourist responded to Ves. "Think of how much damage a rogue mech can do. If they're powerful enough, they can even crack the dome above our heads!"
Ves and Raella shuddered a bit at the thought. Ves had it worse as his overactive imagination started to spark a very vivid image of what a catastrophe a cracked dome could be.
"I guess that makes a lot of sense."
Even though they constantly faced the risk of a malfunctioning dome, Ves still felt safer in Cava City. The lack of mechs meant that Ves still had a fighting chance if another incident occurred.
One of their guards flagged an air car. Once they hopped inside, the car brought them to their first destination. The car entered an underground passage filled to the brim with other vehicles and leisurely passed underneath a dozen domes before reaching the busiest one.
"Welcome to Cava City's mech district!" An invisible transmitter greeted the new arrivals as they stepped out from their aircars. "Enjoy your stay but be mindful of the rules!"
Several flashing warning signs posted at the exit of the parking area emphasized the rules again.
The rules basically boiled down to one thing: no active mechs allowed on the streets.
"Do people break these rules?" Ves asked his guards.
"It happens more often than you think, Mr. Larkinson. Emotions run high during some of the duels. Sometimes the mech athletes put themselves under debt in order to compete at the stage. If they lose, they stand to lose everything."
The explanation showcased the darker side to the dueling scene. Raella shook her head in pity. "A lot of people don't realize how much credits it takes to run a dueling team. There's always kids entering the amateur circuit who think they can get by with their skills alone."
"What happens next?"
"They find out they're not as big of a deal as they thought. Some duelists are quicker to realize this lesson than others. Those who hold on to their delusions either have the skill to back up their confidence, or become ruined within a year."
Chapter 237
A large and boisterous crowd waited before the biggest mech arena in the mech district. As a fully developed aquatic planet, Moira's Paradise hosted a robust mech scene that revolved completely around aquatic mechs.
Fans of the aquatic variant of mech duels favored their brutality. The estimated mortality rate in an aquatic duel was five times higher than normal due to several factors.
First, the water pressure often killed off the pilots if the cockpit incurred minor damage. If the cockpit's automated self-repair systems couldn't fix the crack in time, that tiny crack could quickly grow into a massive breach.
Aquatic mech duels therefore came in two flavors. Low pressure aquatic mech duels occurred in conditions that simulated a depth of up to a hundred meters, while high pressure mech duels adopted a depth of at least ten kilometers. People often considered the former to be a stepping stone for the latter.
"Low pressure duels are fast and rely a lot on reflexes. While you need to master a lot of specialized skills to do well in these duels, there's not a lot of money to be made in this circuit." Raella explained as they entered the arena's VIP gate.
"So it's kind of like the kiddie version of the real duels?"
"Yup. The high pressure duels are where the real action can be found. The mechs there are larger and slower, so the mech pilots have to move deliberately and with forethought. Every action matters and one mistake can spell a fatal end. It's a high pressure environment in more than one way, you could say."
"That sounds stupid. Why won't the organizers make things safer for the mech athletes?"
Ves didn't understand why anyone would be willing to compete in a high pressure aquatic duel. The high risks associated with these duels ensured that you might never come home after a match.
Even veteran mech athletes with a decade of experience occasionally died. Fatal accidents could happen to anyone at any moment.
"Fans pay a lot more to attend these kinds of events. Aquatic mech teams earn a ton of money if they're halfway decent, though they have to spend even more to repair their mechs."
Aquatic mechs outmassed their landborn forms by a significant amount, so it cost a lot of resources to produce and maintain these beasts. While these mechs featured a high degree of compartmentalization, any breached sections had to be written off, which added to the costs.
Once the gate personnel processed their tickets, a uniform attendant guided them to a private room that hovered above the arena. Around two thousand floating rooms surrounded the massive arena. Aquatic mechs required a lot of space to bring out their full strengths so the amount of space dedicated to this sole arena exceeded his imaginations.
Lucky made himself comfortable on a nearby sofa while Ves tinkered with the control terminal. Its various settings allowed him to project multiple angles at the same time. It also allowed him to relocate his floating room.
Ves lowered his room so that it almost went up to the transparent dome that enveloped the pressurized dueling ring.
"When will the action start?"
"The first duel starts in half an hour. Would you like some refreshments?"
They ordered some drinks and waited for the arena to fill up. The VIPs entered the floating rooms and started moving them to their preferred positions. As for the regular folk, they had to make do with the bleachers.
A lot of people already arrived early, and in the time that remained, the seats became filled to the brim. Over half-a-million people came to watch the upcoming series of duels.
"What's happening today?"
"Don't you know?" Raella looked at Ves as if he was an idiot. "It's the finals of the Sea Crown Tournament! Two of the best aquatic mech teams are going to duke it out in a series of five 1-on-1 mech duels!"
The Cava City Sea Dragons enjoyed a long and illustrious track record ever since they became the city's hometown team. They won the Sea Crown for three years in a row already.
As the challengers, the Velton Myrmidons faced an uphill battle in the coming finals, but a lot of people rooted for the underdogs. With their young team of highly talented athletes, it remained to be seen whether they could beat the odds.
"Who will you support?"
"The Myrmidons, of course! The Sea Dragons are good, but their previous team captain retired recently. This is the best opportunity for the Myrmidons to take the Crown from the Dragons!"
The spectacle finally began when a pair of announcers came into view.
"Welcome ladies and gentleman to the crowning event of Cava City! Today, the Cava City Sea Dragons will be defending their title against the ambitious Velton Myrmidons!"
Two-thirds of the crowd stood up. "Sea Dragons!"
The supporters of the challengers also rooted for their team. "Myrmidons!"
The sheer amount of energy in the air fueled a frenetic atmosphere that called for blood. Even Ves got caught up in the excitement. Just like Raella, he looked forward to the upcoming clash.
"The team leaders have submitted their final lineups! First up, the Red Kraken will get the chance to avenge his miserable defeat at the hands of the Unstoppable Juggernaut!"
People often refer to the top athletes by their nicknames. The names also helped outsiders like Ves get a sense of the piloting style of the individual duelists.
After a lot of pomp and ceremony, the pressurized arena ring started to churn.
A hatch opened up to let in the Red Kraken of the Myrmidons. Like its namesake, it had been designed to mimic the mythical kraken. With its eight articulating limbs and a host of hooks and other nasty surprises, the monstrous mech possessed plenty of tools to dismantle an opponent within its grasp.
The Sea Dragons sent out a more traditional aquatic mech. The Unstoppable Juggernaut piloted a hammerhead shark-shaped mech. Different from its organic counterpart, the Sea Dragon mech featured a thicker and more robust head that had been designed for collision.
"That hammerhead mech must be expensive to maintain." Ves astutely noted. "The mech technicians in charge of maintaining that mech must be hating it with a vengeance."
Raella browsed the records of the Juggernaut. "You aren't wrong, but the Juggernaut and his mech is one of the best aquatic mech duelists in Cava City. Every opponent he meets in the ring has to respect his devastating rush."
Whatever damage the Juggernaut incurred, his opponent's mech likely fared worse. Such a mutually destructive game of chicken led to expensive repair bills for both sides. The Juggernaut only remained viable because he enjoyed the support of a well-funded team and the crowd loved his antics.
"A lot of viewers from the Republic tune in when he enters the stage."
"What about his life expectancy?"
Raella shrugged. No one really cared about the danger when a spectacle was involved.
In any base, the round began. The churning waters made it difficult for both mechs to hold their course, but as their jets powered up, they started to gain more control.
Both mechs circled around each other. Despite the Juggernaut's focus on collisions, his mech incorporated a small miniature torpedo launcher that he used to send out some harassing fire.
The Red Kraken intercepted most of the torpedoes by firing out short-ranged spikes from the main torso of his octopus mech.
The hammerhead mech took the opportunity to close in for its first charge. It revved up its engines and its short-range aquatic boosters to propel itself forward like a missile in flight.
"Too early!" Raella shouted.
Even if the Red Kraken focused on taking out the torpedoes, he didn't forget to keep an eye on his opponent. The Kraken smoothly dashed his mech aside, dodging the first attempt with ease.
The Juggernaut didn't take the failure to heart and steered his mech into a lazy circle to maintain some momentum.
Both mechs incurred no damage at all so far. Since the Red Kraken piloted a relatively immobile mech, he didn't bother to chase after the hammerhead mech. Instead, he positioned his mech at the side of the dome where he'd be able to limit the angles of approach of his opponent.
The tension ratcheted up. Everyone waited for the Juggernaut to make a move. As the duelist with the faster mech, he had to take action within the next couple of minutes.
"Why is he holding back?" Ves asked.
"His mech is very one-dimensional. Besides his mini-torpedoes, he doesn't have any other ranged options. The only way he can avoid a loss is if he keeps moving. He has to find the right angle and moment to charge in order to maximize his success for a collision."
The match turned into a standoff as the Juggernaut refrained from going in. Ves couldn't imagine how much pressure the duelists faced.
"He's moving!"
The Juggernaut finally chose to move, turning his circling trajectory into a straight path towards the octopus mech. As the hammerhead bore down on its target, it initiated its short-range boosters at full strength, closing the gap at such a speed that the Red Kraken only had seconds to respond.
He juked his octopus mech upwards at just the right time to dodge the charge!
Just as Ves thought the hammerhead mech would miss its target and collide against the edge of the dome, the Juggernaut made a split-second move. The hammerhead mech cut off most of its forward jets and activated the auxiliary boosters attached to the bottom side of its frame. In addition, a large fin-shaped spike slid out from its upper frame!
The Juggernaut turned his mech's forward charge into an uppercut strike that savaged the octopus mech from below, slicing away two of its tentacles in that single pass!
The crowd went wild! Even Raella whooped at the move. "Kudos to the mech designer of that Sea Dragon mech!"
Even Ves admired the modifications put into the mech. Mech designers in the employ of a competitive dueling team often changed the designs of their mechs to keep them fresh.
A lazy team risked an awful loss if they used the exact same mechs for all of its matches. Their opponents could easily analyze the weak points of their designs and practice fighting against them in countless simulations.
Still, the Juggernaut lost his momentum after making such a drastic change of course. Before he could move his mech away, the Red Kraken pounced at the stalling hammerhead mech.
His octopus mech engaged his own short-ranged boosters and moved to envelop the hammerhead mech with its six remaining tentacles.
"Ohh! What a misplay by the Juggernaut! He failed to move away in time. Now his mech has become entangled!
Even as the hammerhead mech cranked up its engines, the octopus mech solidified its grip on its raging prey. Its six tentacles managed to clasp the hammerhead mech tightly before it could force its way out of the trap.
Saws, spikes and other cutting implements emerged from the tentacles and started to rail against the armor of the Juggernaut's mech. Even with its thick, shock-absorbing armor, the ceaseless grind from the Kraken started weakening its weak points.
After a solid minute of thrashing, the Kraken cut its way through the side armor! The water pressure enlarged the breach and crushed the internals in that compartment. The hammerhead mech lost ten percent of its power!
Even as the Kraken continued to exploit more weak points, the Juggernaut gave up on disentangling the tentacles. Instead, his hammerhead mech engaged its short-ranged boosters for the last time, propelling both entangled mechs against the surface of the dome!
Crack!
The main torso of the octopus mech collided against the dome head-first! Even after such a shock, the Red Kraken still continued to cut apart his prey, managing to cut open another compartment!
Both of the duellists raced against time. Would the Red Kraken disable the Juggernaut fast enough before his opponent bashed his octopus mech into pieces?
The duel turned violent as both mechs suffered continuous damage.
CRACK!
In the end, the octopus mech succumbed to its wounds. Its tentacles started to lose their strength and the vital central torso suffered critical damage to its power reactor. The Red Kraken quickly conceded before the damage reached his cockpit.
"The Red Kraken transmitted his surrender! The first round goes to the Sea Dragons!"
As the spectators stood up to cheer for their teams, Ves sank back in his seat and shook his head. The hammerhead mech had been built like a tank so it could take a lot more abuse. The Red Kraken should have let go instead of holding on so stubbornly.
"It's a bad matchup for the Red Kraken." Raella noted a little glumly. Her adopted team lost the first round, after all. "Of all the opponents he could duel, he faced off against the heaviest aquatic mech."
In a best-of-five, the Myrmidons already fell behind! They couldn't afford another loss if they hoped to obtain the prestigious Sea Crown!
Chapter: 238
The second round commenced after various bots cleaned up all the debris from the pressurized arena ring. Two very different aquatic mechs emerged from the hatches.
The Cava City Sea Dragons sent out a stubby eel-like mech. The announcers already laid out their predictions.
"Slippery Winston has entered the stage! Will the third-strongest member of the Sea Dragons deliver another victory for his team?"
"Not very likely in my eyes, as the Velton Myrmidons mean business this time! Look who they brought into the ring!"
The Myrmidon supporters among the crowd erupted in support of the mech athlete who entered.
"Firebreather! Firebreather! Firebreather!"
Unlike other aquatic mechs, Firebreather's mech took on a shape that didn't resemble any terrestrial animals. From the commentary the announcers provided, Ves learned that the designer adopted an original shape that didn't resemble any Terran or exo creature.
If Ves had to describe Firebreather's mech, he'd say it resembled an octagonal honeycomb. Its symmetrical angular sides all featured octagonal-shaped armor plating. Besides functioning as modular armor, the armor plating also camouflaged the placements of thrusters, boosters and weapon hardpoints.
The logic of its unusual design became evident once the round commenced. The eel mech approached the octagon mech, slithering forth with electric grace. Sparks of current ran throughout its frame, making it obvious that tangling with it up close was a bad idea.
Slippery Winston started off the engagement by launching a pair of high-powered harpoons at the octagon mech. Both of them puncturered through the octagon mech's relatively weak plating.
"Firebreather got harpooned! But will it stick?"
A strong current ran through the cables between the harpoons and the eel mech. Yet before it could do much damage, a spark of liquid heat erupted from the affected side of the octagon mech. The cables melted apart, freeing Firebreather from the electric attack.
The octagon mech started to spin a bit and present an undamaged side to the eel mech. Its strange shape gave the mech a lot of options as it possessed an array of weapons and thrusters at each side. Constraints in disposable space limited their power, but the enormous redundancy gave the mech a lot of options.
Not content to sit back and let Slippery Winston out of his grasp, Firebreather sent his mech forward and fired off volleys of short-ranged heat attacks.
Even if Slippery Winston gained his fame for his ability to dodge all kinds of attacks, the wide area heat sprays proved extremely difficult to avoid. His eel mech specialized in agility, but its top speed left something to be desired.
"It's like a battle between a striker and a skirmisher." Raella noted. "Except this skirmisher is a little slow."
"It's hard to design an aquatic mech that can go faster under these circumstances."
Mech designers had to allocate an exponential amount of power to mobility if they wished to make an aquatic mech go faster. Thus, most deep sea designs emphasized agility and power over pure speed.
Right now, Slippery Winston's eel mech started to look cooked as its armor plating started to break down from the continuous exposure to heat. The duellist of the Sea Dragons attempted to fight back by launching harpoons and missiles, but the octagon mech's ridiculous amount of redundancy made it look like they fell into an endless hole.
"This match is over." Ves predicted. He could tell that the eel mech didn't have much in store except to go all in.
Ordinarily, such a move would be best as it could use its deadly electrical currents to fry its prey from within.
Slippery Winston must have realized his predicament. As his eel mech started to get cornered, he finally stopped avoiding the attacks and dove head-first into the octagon mech.
"Oh, Winston is going in! Will this be the end?"
"He's falling right into Firebreather's hands!"
The octagon mech blasted out a giant spray of heated liquids that struck the eel mech head-on. The sheer amount of heat distorted the water around them, but Ves could see that Slippery Winston cleverly rotated his mech to spread the damage over its frame.
However, the octagon mech kept pumping out a constant torrent of thermal energy. Firebreather decided to dump his full arsenal at this moment, which rapidly degraded Winston's mech.
Yet the eel mech still persisted under these circumstances. It used the tail end of its frame to lash against the octagon mech, smashing aside the armor at those spots.
The two mechs continued to batter at each other, hoping to force their opponent to concede first. The contest of endurance turned into a contest of wills. Whoever lost their nerve first would be savaged by the pumped up crowd!
Even Raella clenched her fists at the action underneath their floating room. "Get closer!"
"I can't. There's too many rooms in the way!"
A whole pile of floating rooms had congregated around the side where the fighting took place. The VIPs all wanted to get close to see the outcome of this decisive moment with their very own eyes.
Moments like these reminded Ves why he adored mechs. The visceral combat stimulated the primitive part of his brain that craved for blood. For all humanity pretended to be civilized, deep down they still let themselves be ruled by the instincts that evolution had been slow to erase.
The sense that he lost his purpose started to fade as he got caught up in the fight. He made an important realization during this match.
"Mechs embody violence."
When Ves recently worked on his limited edition mechs, he explicitly designed them to be display models. While there was nothing wrong with designing mechs for peaceful purposes, it should never be his primary focus.
A real mech should be bred for war. Any refinements that Ves chose to add to his mechs should never overshadow their primary purpose of destroying their enemies.
The duel reached its final stages when the octagon mech managed to burn a large gap in the frame of the eel mech. Firebreather instantly capitalized on the weak point by focusing all of his heat attacks on that spot!
A low boom echoed from the dome as something critical inside Slippery Winston's mech exploded! The disruption caused by that explosion opened up the insides of his eel mech to water, which quickly crushed the delicate internals inside the affected compartments.
The referees forced a halt to the fighting because Winston had been knocked unconscious from the sudden shock. Fortunately, his cockpit's integrity remained intact, so he escaped from the duel with his life intact.
Ves lost interest in the tournament at this point. The subsequent matches proceeded rather tamely as the mech athletes played conservatively and dragged out the time. None of them wanted to end up like Slippery Winston.
Even Raella started to yawn when the standoff between two shark-like mechs went on for more than fifteen minutes. Both mechs primarily relied on spikes and torpedoes to harass their opponents to death.
Only the dedicated fans remained excited for their adopted teams. Ves stopped caring about the outcome and instead focused on the mechs themselves.
All of the mechs he had seen so far possessed a spark of life. Ves could tell that each mech adopted a unique design that had gone through numerous evolutions. Each time they sustained significant damage, their designers tweaked the designs so that the mechs fared a little better next time.
They were very much opposite to the clinically clean and lifeless machines of the MTA. Mechs produced through materialization paid for their perfection with their souls. Even if they delivered superior performance over mechs produced through fabrication, Ves wondered if they represented the answer to making better mechs.
It depended on the potential of the X-Factor. Ves only scratched the surface with this metaphysical phenomenon. He suspected that a stronger X-Factor might have dramatic effects, but he was years away from another breakthrough. At his current level of progress, achieving those levels seemed far away.
"What do you think about materialized mechs?" Ves asked his cousin out of the blue.
"You mean that fancy new production technique from the galactic center? It sounds like it's really expensive. I'll probably be dead before materialized mechs become mainstream in our neighborhood."
"Do you think they're better?"
"Of course! It's more expensive, so it must be worth the money, right?"
Her answer revealed that Raella didn't know much about mech production. A mech pilot like her wouldn't know the difference.
Would Ves still have a place in a future where materialization became reasonable enough to take over the galactic rim? If mech pilots started to become more exacting about their demands, then Ves expected to face a lot of difficulty trying to achieve the inhuman level of quality that materialization easily provided.
Something started to crystallize in his mind as he wrestled over this issue. Ves had always been fascinated by the X-Factor. Since he already achieved some progress, he owed it to himself and the System to see this journey through.
Even if materialization came with many benefits, it could not replace the fundamental value of plain-old craftsmanship. Mechs should come with a human touch.
His newfound conviction seemed to cleanse his mind once again. Rather than regard materialization as an inevitability or a looming threat, he treated it as an alternative that he already ruled out.
If the mech market progressed in a way that favored materialized mechs, then Ves would continue to fight for mechs produced through more traditional ways.
He'd prop up his own market if he had to.
That was not to say that he aimed to fight against this technology. Materialization offered a lot of benefits in other industries that had always been chasing after zero errors. Progress couldn't be stopped once it was unleashed. The mech industry as a whole stood to gain a lot from this method of production as well.
"Not everyone cares for a handmade mech."
The vast majority of mechs sold today consisted of cheap, mass-produced mechs. Once materialization became more affordable, the lower end of the market would gain a lot of benefits as the overall quality went up.
The Sea Crown Tournament reached its final act as the Sea Dragons and the Myrmidons went even with each other. Both teams eked out two wins, beating most people's expectations that the reigning champions would easily steamroll the challengers.
Ves regained his interest in the tournament once the final round commenced. Both teams sent out their team captains for this decisive match.
"Jackknife Jake is carrying the final hopes of the Myrmidons! Will he be able to deliver on the promise he made to his fans, or will he return to Velton with empty hands?"
"Not if the Sea King has anything to say about it! With over nine years of duelling experience, the King has reigned over our planet for three consecutive years as he led the Sea Dragons to victory time and time again!"
Jackknife Jake piloted a medium-sized angular fish mech with lots of retractable weapon hardpoints. Ves could tell his mech relied on hit-and-run attacks with its sharpened fins to grind his opponents down.
In contrast, the Sea King piloted a sea dragon-shaped mech. The extravagant machine had clearly been designed to evoke a sense of majesty, as if it was a given that the Sea King should reign over Moira's Paradise. Its design achieved an optimal balance between power and flexibility. Its two claws added a lot of extra options to the Sea King's arsenal.
"Jake!" The Sea King broadcasted through an open channel which the arena passed on to the crowd. "Your team did well this year, but your lucky streak has come to an end. You've never defeated me before. The outcome is already set!"
The team captain of the Myrmidons responded, if only to please his supporters. "Boast after you win, not before! I've crawled through countless rivals to get to this point, beating expectations along the way. Even if you have the better machine, nothing is ever set in stone!"
While Jackknife Jake piloted a very good aquatic mech, the amount of money invested into the sea dragon mech beggared the mind. From what Ves could tell, the Sea King's mech was worth at least three times as much as Jackknife Jake's machine.
"Is the outcome already determined?" Ves softly asked to himself. Personally, he found the Sea King's attitude to be repulsive. He started to root for the Myrmidons again. "Come on, Jake, show him what a better pilot can do!"
Chapter 239
Despite the disparity in value between the two mechs, the outcome of the match was still in doubt.
Jackknife Jake's bladed fish mech possessed superior speed and agility over the larger sea dragon-shaped mech. He showcased his strengths at the very start of the final round by darting along the flanks of his opponent's mech.
While the Sea King possessed the advantage of power and endurance, he wouldn't be able to leverage them properly if he couldn't get a grip on his opponent. The King knew this and didn't bother to chase after his opponent. He drifted in place and retaliated whenever Jake got close.
"How many weapons are stuffed inside that mech?" Raella asked with surprise as the sea dragon mech showed off its arsenal. "That's like five or six weapon systems already!"
Ves had also noticed its diverse array of weapon hardpoints. "It's like a hybrid mech in a sense. It possesses both short and long-ranged options."
The sea dragon-shaped mech's main armament consisted of its sharp and sturdy claws and teeth. Jake respected their threat to his mech and always tried to attack the Sea King from the rear.
A variety of weapon systems dotted around the frame of the sea dragon. Much like the octagon mech that appeared before, the sea dragon mech hid the exact placement of those systems underneath identical scale-like armor plating.
The sea dragon fired spikes, torpedoes, harpoons and all other assorted weaponry at the approaching fish mech. Its ammunition seemed limitless as it attempted to constrain Jackknife Jake with suppressive fire.
The bladed fish mech incurred a decent amount of scratches from the barrage. Jake chose to dodge the harpoons even if his mech had to eat a face full of spikes. In return, his mech got close enough to rake through the sea dragon mech's sides.
"Both of them are not holding back! Jackknife Jake is throwing all caution to the wind, knowing that he won't be able to last long enough against the Sea King's superior range advantage!"
"The Sea King must not be feeling so well. His mech's agility pales in comparison to the killing machine in the hands of Jackknife Jake. Look at how he's tearing a boatload of armor plates with every pass!"
Jackknife Jake dished out a good amount of damage, but Ves could obviously tell his mech degraded faster than the sea dragon mech. As a speed-focused mech, its armor would always fall behind to a mech that aimed for balance.
More perversely, the Sea King obviously splurged a lot on the armor system of his mech. The scale-like plating took a lot of force to dislodge or cut through. Each time Jackknife Jake made a pass, his mech lost momentum, something which the Sea King eagerly pounced upon. The balance of favor started to tilt against the Myrmidon team captain.
A huge lance emerged from the mouth of the fish mech. Jackknife Jake abruptly ceased dancing around the sea dragon mech in favor of a direct approach.
The Sea King had obviously been off-guard, but a pilot of his caliber didn't remain stunned for long. The dragon mech opened up its own jaws and ejected a large orb that it had kept hidden all this time.
The lance hit the orb head-on and exploded. Like a mine, it detonated with a furious shockwave that impacted the fish mech at virtually point-blank range.
Just as everyone thought that had been the end of the Myrmidons, Jackknife Jake emerged from the murky waters with a battered but functional mech! Another lance replaced the broken one that detonated the orb, allowing Jake to continue his rush towards the Sea Dragon.
This time, the Sea King had been truly caught off-guard, to the point where his mech instinctively fended off the lance with its claws. The lance pierced right through its left claw and pushed on to impale the upper torso. Jackknife Jake quickly detached the lance before squirreling away, leaving the weapon pinned in his opponent's mech.
"How did Jackknife Jake survive that mine?! Quick, rerun that segment!"
The entire audience turned to the closest projection to see a slow-motion replay of the last encounter. Moments before the first lance pierced the mine, Jackknife Jake detached the lance and abruptly engaged his mech's reverse boosters, cutting off its forward momentum and allowing it to escape the brunt of the blast.
"What a fast reaction! Jake chose to overload his reverse boosters at a critical moment! Even if they're fried, they've done their job!"
The lance embedded in the sea dragon mech affected its mobility in a serious way. The Sea King's mech experienced a lot of problems when it tried to transfer enough power to the thrusters placed along its frame.
The Sea King went mad this time. "I'll crush you like a bug, Jake!"
The sea dragon mech showed off its full capabilities as its jaw ejected dozens of mines. They floated around the Sea King's mech like an omnidirectional guard. Cables shot out from tiny openings, connecting the orbs to each other like a net.
The nets then started to chase after the fish mech. Jackknife Jake had to abort his hit-and-run attacks in face of this new weapon. While the nets didn't move very fast, their expansive reach and coverage fully constrained his mobility.
Having ejected all of the mines in its stores, the sea dragon mech then revealed another weapon from its gaping jaws. The cone-shaped barrel turned out to be a sonic cannon as it started to emit continuous sound waves towards the dancing fish mech.
Like a wide-area flamethrower, the sonic weapon's range fell off quickly. Nevertheless, the mech piloted by Jackknife Jake already started to fall apart. The Myrmidon team captain had to make a difficult choice. Either he braved the storm and risked annihilation, or he could keep his distance and bet that the sea dragon mech ran out of power first.
Mech pilots tended to favor aggression over inaction, so Jake decided to make one more play.
"Why is he going in? His mech doesn't have much left." Ves noted with puzzlement.
From what he could determine, the Sea King piloted a ridiculous aquatic mech. The mine net alone countered every possible move that Jake could make.
"He'll be letting down his team and his fans if he gives up at this point." Raella explained. As a former amateur mech athlete, she had a keen understanding of what went on in his mind. "Even if he has to put his life on the line, he owes it to his supporters to continue the fight."
The damaged fish mech dramatically charged towards the sea dragon mech. The Sea King overloaded his sonic cannon, but the weapon merely tickled the fish mech.
As Jake reached the mine net, he revealed his final trump card. Moments before his fish mech collided against the net, his mech split in half!
The forward section of his mech crashed against the net and caused the mines to explode, obscuring everything in the vicinity.
The Sea King tentatively backed away. His mech's excellent sensors caught the moment of separation, but before he could put much distance from the blast, Jake emerged from the turbulent water with just half of his mech intact, yet it moved just as fast as before!
Jake's mech had obviously been designed to split beforehand. The rear part of the original fish mech took on an hydrodynamic spear shape that turned the newly revealed front portion into a stubby wedge that looked sharp enough to split apart its opponent.
His mech bore down on the sea dragon mech with the help of single-use boosters that he kept in reserve up to this point!
"Is he going to make it?!"
As Jackknife Jake came within spitting distance of his opponent, the Sea King ceased his futile attempt to dodge. Instead, he oriented his mech to allow its tail to take the blow in its stead!
A huge explosion occurred at the moment of impact! At the very last moment, Jake ejected his cockpit from his half-mech, leaving the rest to collide and explode against the Sea King's mech in a cataclysmic blast that spread out countless of broken components in every direction.
The Sea King obviously hadn't expected an explosion of that magnitude to erupt from the kamikaze mech. His sea dragon mech slithered out of the polluted waters in a bedraggled state.
Only its high quality components kept the mech functional, and even that came into doubt as the mech's power reactor started failing. The previous lance strike had opened up a weak point in the Sea King's mech that the collision and explosion had ruthlessly exploited.
A tense and chilling mood ran through the audience as they waited for the Sea King to revive his mech. The outcome of the match depended on whether his mech could still put up a fight.
According to the standard mech duels, even if a mech duellist was left with a cockpit, as long as it possessed a single backup thruster and a piddly little gun, it remained in contention. The floating cockpit piloted by Jackknife Jake demonstrated both requirements as it slowly recovered from its uncontrolled ejection.
Just as everyone thought the Sea King had fallen from his throne, his sea dragon mech emerged from its slumber for the very last time. It moved its broken form and turned a claw towards the slowly drifting cockpit.
A single claw tip ejected from the limb. Even if it hadn't been propelled with a lot of force, it reached Jake's cockpit in a blink and pierced through its feeble shell.
"The cockpit has been breached! Jake's life signs have flatlined!"
"A fatality! The Sea King murdered Jackknife Jake before his victim could concede!"
The entire crowd uttered their outrage at the final move. Only the hardcore supporters of the Sea Dragons remained enlivened. The rest appeared to condemn the unsportsmanlike move. The screams of anger, horror and indignation flooded the entire arena to the point where they drowned out the announcers.
Even Ves expressed his shock at that final, spiteful act by the Sea King. "Why did he do it?"
"Because it's within the rules." Raella responded with a sour expression. "When you dance along the edge, you're going to get cut sooner or later. Jackknife Jake thought he'd be clever by piloting a kamikaze mech, but as long as he and his mech remained combat capable, he's fair game. It's not his opponent's responsibility to save his life."
"So you're allowed to deliberately kill your opponent during a duel?"
"Essentially, yes, but most people don't go out of their way to do so. Not only will you get a bad reputation, you'll also lose your sponsors."
"I don't think the Sea Dragons have any trouble attracting sponsors."
Whatever the case, the referees had no choice but to rule the match in favor of the bloodied Sea King. It turned out that his crippling mech only had a few seconds of uptime left. If his mech ran out of juice before he did something to Jake, then the long-held Sea Crown would be lost for the first time in three years to the upstart Myrmidons.
The Sea King faced a difficult decision. If the captain of the Sea Dragons wished to retain the Sea Crown, he had to disable Jake's cockpit by any means possible, even if it meant a lethal outcome.
He chose to do what was best for his team. Even if he had to throw away his reputation, his team secured the vaunted Sea Crown for the fourth time in a row. With bloodied hands, the Sea King cruelly showed how far he would go to defend his title.
As the analysts, pundits and fans poured over those final moments, Ves directed his floating room away from the dome. Numerous bots already entered the ring and began retrieving the remains.
"People will do anything for fame." Raella spoke up. "Each time you enter the ring, you risk an accident that can take away your life. There's always a risk of death when two big hunks of metal go toe-to-toe against each other."
"What about you? Did you ever fear for your life when you entered the ring?"
"Of course, but adrenaline and a little extra liquid courage helps a lot in pushing those doubts away. You don't want to start a duel with a clouded mind. Even if fatalities happen, I never thought it would happen to me."
The sad outcome to a hopeful match put the entire mech arena in a somber mood. Ves didn't pay attention to the subdued closing ceremony where the deputy team captain of the Sea Dragons accepted the Sea Crown for the fourth time in a row. The Sea King himself didn't dare show up in front of the audience.
The dramatic turn of events put Ves in a strange mood. After having established a lifelong conviction, witnessing the extent the team captains fought to win had opened his mind to what kind of original mech he'd like to design.
Ves closed his eyes and turned his focus inward. A fleeting inspiration bloomed into a vivid image that centered around determination.
"Never give up. Fight to the end!"
Chapter 240
For his upcoming original design, Ves already chose the Phoenix as its totem animal. He envisioned designing a durable knight that should be resilient enough to last a lengthy war.
However, a great design should accomplish more than mere survival. Ves forgot about the drive to succeed. No one wanted to lose. Planning for the worst was fine and all, but sometimes you've gotta risk it all in order to achieve a win.
"Avoiding a loss is not a sufficient goal. A mech should be designed to accomplish a specific objective."
He sketched out a possible character he could utilize as the human myth component of his Triple Division Technique. While he hadn't fixed a specific image in mind, he felt determined to include some ambition and the need to win in the list of possible traits.
As the Sea Crown Tournament wound down, Ves guided his floating room away from the morbid arena dome and the restless crowd. A lot of security bots appeared to keep the defiant supporters of the Velton Myrmidons in line. They were one step away from rioting over the heartless killing of Jackknife Jake.
Even though the competition came to an unfortunate end, Ves did not regret attending it. The collective emotions of the spectators and the dramatic turn of events in the ring had revitalized his drive to design an original mech.
In a sense, he reacquainted himself with the raison d'être of mechs.
For all their higher ideals, humanity ceaselessly sought to expand their rule over the galaxy. They began their conquest of the stars with the advent of interstellar warships. They consolidated their gains by establishing a flourishing mech culture.
Ves, Raella and Lucky stayed at an exclusive hotel next to the arena and spent the night there.
As he slumbered, Ves dreamt of the fantasies had in his youth and blended them with the harsh realities he learned in his adulthood. Designing an original mech was tough, but Ves never thought he would have an easy ride.
As he woke up the next morning, Ves left the arena domes behind and visited the cultural districts of Cava City. He toured the museums and art galleries for ancient monuments of fallen alien species and contemporary art alike.
Each individual piece carried a message. The best works of art came with rich flavors of X-Factor that had been imbued by their creators.
"What do you see in this piece of junk?" Raella complained as she crossed her arms. "It's just a barstool, Ves! You call this art?"
"I can tell the artists here are sincere. Can't you feel the emotions in the pieces?"
"My tummy is feeling hungry. When are we eating lunch?"
"Soon. Let me take in the sights first."
The art gallery put this particular ensemble in a notable position. The room they stood in had been converted into a metallic interior reminiscent of the insides of a spaceship. Rents and molten marks on the walls evoked the image of a desperate battle.
Devastation formed the theme of this exhibition. An artist collective called the Epitaph Among The Stars recovered several mundane pieces of space wreckage and turned them into display pieces.
Even though the artworks didn't look too remarkable, they resonated very strongly with his sixth sense. The emotions put in their compositions spoke of the dedication of the artists that made it their mission to remember the fallen from the void of space.
The other exhibitions never came close to matching their exquisiteness. Half of the art pieces he encountered in the gallery came with an empty void that spoke of two possibilities. Either they were fake, or the artists left the composition to a bot.
Either way, Ves found it rather disappointing that the curators valued such pieces. What would happen if materialization became mainstream in the art world? Would every piece of art become husks that were too detached from their creators?
From the way the museums and art galleries couldn't distinguish between real or fake, Ves held low expectations of the future.
Besides witnessing how other people unconsciously imparted the X-Factor in their works, Ves also received a lot of inspiration for his upcoming project. After the brutality he witnessed last night, the distraction pulled him back from the brink.
"Violence and civilization goes hand-in-hand, but it's not a good idea to lean too far in a single direction."
The industry generally abhorred mechs that catered to the darker nature of humanity. Designs that emphasized their ability to evoke terror and inflict mass casualties even received censure from the MTA.
Mechs should never be employed as a weapon of terror. While plenty of people outright made a mockery out of that rule, normally the market favored noble mechs.
Even a heavy striker armed with heavy-duty flamethrowers could be considered heroic as long as its design emphasized its role as a defender. Perception and reality didn't always have to match.
Ves absorbed this lesson slowly as he visited many different art galleries in the next two days. The way the artists played at the perception of their audience really inspired his creativity.
Some of the most impressive works of contemporary art consisted of four-dimensional displays that changed their form over time in a dynamic fashion. The artists accomplished these effects through the use of modern technology and a small amount of exotics.
One remarkable artwork consisted of a mirror that purportedly showed an alternate reality version of whoever stared into its reflective surface. People could only see their own reflections. No matter where anyone else positioned themselves, they would never be able to glimpse another person's alternate reflection.
Most visitors treated it as a fake curiosity as they saw themselves in a vastly different state of appearance. Perhaps a sophisticated computer pulled up various data from the galactic net and extrapolated a somewhat realistic image of what they might have been if some details of their past had taken another turn.
No one really believed the artist's claims that he had breached the barriers between the universes and opened up a window.
The reflections appeared to be completely random. Some looked thinner, as if they couldn't even afford to eat the most basic nutrient packs. Others wore resplendently brilliant dresses, as if their income had been inflated by over a hundred times.
Raella claimed she saw herself as a successful mech athlete who had gone pro. She wore a piloting suit emblazoned with the name of her old team, the Wailing Witches. Her suit even carried sponsorship symbols from several notable household brands.
Ves felt apprehensive when he got his own turn to look at the mirror. What would the clever computer system behind the illusions come up with as his reflection? Once the latest person moved away from the reflection, Ves stepped up to the full-length mirror.
"Is that me?" He sounded disappointed.
The Ves that looked back from the mirror looked decidedly average. He wore poor clothes that could be obtained with a couple of dozen credits. His body looked thin but not malnourished, showing that he barely made a living in this supposed alternate universe.
Much of the confidence and success that he enjoyed as a mech designer was absent from the reflection. Ves supposed that the reflection indicated his most likely fate as an individual if he never received the System from his father.
Crushed by debt and lacking both talent and connections, Ves would never be able to come up with a product in time to pay off the first interest payment that came due. Coming up with five million credits on his own proved wholly impossible to a mech designer without the right foundation to survive in the mech industry.
The Larkinson family must have refrained from bailing him out as well. With their modest net worth, they'd be ruining the foundation of their estate if they threw good money after bad in his hopeless venture to become an established mech designer. The most his grandfather could do was to secure his rights after the inevitable bankruptcy.
Obviously, he didn't take his failure very well. One year after the presumed closure of his nascent workshop, Ves must have probably turned back into a useless bum. Deprived of a promising career in the mech industry, he fell off the deep end and lived from day to day in a wallow of self-pity and recrimination.
The next visitor in line started to get impatient as Ves stared at his own alternate reflection with melancholy. His self-esteem took a substantial hit at that moment. He only regained his composure after left and took a break by eating a meal at a nearby restaurant.
As Raella munched on a fat piece of aeliotonoc whale steak, she gently bonked his head with her knuckles. "Cheer up, Ves. Whatever you saw in that stupid mirror isn't you. Look at what you made of yourself in these last couple of years. You're a big shot now!"
"You're right." He sighed as he cut a piece of his own steak. Ves found the whale meat to be a little chewier than he liked. "It's a depressing reflection, but it's only one of many possible realities. What matters most is that I've avoided that fate."
Ves spent the rest of his allotted time in Cava City by attending a silly play. The performance centered around a setting where humanity and aliens struck a friendly accord. The play made fun of the diverse aliens humanity had befriended.
The performance made use of advanced projection technology to capture the speech and movements of an isolated actor and project them into life-like alien characters. From upright horses with twelve limbs to a floating brain that manipulated its surroundings with tentacles, their antics roiled the audience in a flood of laughter.
"Why are you speaking to my waste channel? My nostrils are down here!"
"My apologies. My exhaustive lessons in human culture and etiquette have taught me that I should always start undressing myself after exchanging a couple of words!"
"By the Seven Three-Horned Gods! Humans are disgusting! They douse themselves in the foul and smelly liquid known as water for up to two times a day! Imagine the horror known as hygiene! We must declare war against this race to teach them the value of going without a bath for years at a time!"
What Ves enjoyed the most was how the play obliquely parodied aspects of society that they all took for granted. For example, while humanity universally maintained hostile relationships with aliens, why should they be locked in a constant struggle for dominance in the galaxy?
Space was vast, with billions of stars in the Milky Way alone. Not even the most prolific races had grown to the point where they ran out of space. Even if most star systems lacked deposits of exotic minerals, that didn't mean they were useless.
Humanity constantly hungered for exotics to fuel their ceaseless struggle for territory against the aliens and themselves. The play Ves and Raella attended presented a scenario where humans never resorted to war as the first option. While they maintained a decent amount of war assets, they mainly served as a deterrent rather than a prelude to a full-fledged invasion.
In this possible setting, the playwright envisioned that the lack of constant warring diminished the hunger for exotics, thereby placing less importance on securing star systems with deposits of these valuable resources.
With peace as the prevailing condition, human society occupied a smaller but more densely populated slice of the galaxy. The lack of competition even allowed their race to unite in a single common union that maintained the same set of laws and customs throughout their entire territory.
Such a silly future could never exist. Ves had a good laugh along with the rest of the crowd when the play made a mockery of this presumptuous vision.
"Humans are a greedy, jealous race that always takes away what other races possess." He reminded himself. He spoke those words with pride.
At the end, Ves left the theater in a tired but satiated mood. All the ups and downs he experienced in the last couple of days had refreshed his mind even as it took a toll on it. In any case, he experienced a lot on this planet and gained a lot of inspiration on his upcoming project.
His holiday on Moira's Paradise had given him a lot of food for thought. While he didn't get to relax all that often, the mental stimulation he received should be sufficient to flesh out a draft design for the mech of his dreams.
Chapter 241
Their stay in Cava City came to an end. Ves, Raella and Lucky boarded the Nautilus of the Deep with memorable moments of their stay.
"The play is fun and all, but I don't get why it's so highly rated."
"With parodies, you have to look underneath the surface to get the message." Ves responded to Raella. "Have you noticed how the humans appeared more dimwitted than the aliens in the performance? My take on the play is that if humans for whatever reason lose their drive for war, they'll eventually turn into harmless monkeys who are only good for comic relief."
"Hah! As if that will ever happen. Too much blood has been shed for us to go all lovey dovey all of a sudden."
"You never know if the prevailing winds will change. There's always a portion in our society who are advocating for peace and understanding."
"That sounds pretty bad for you. Without all the fighting, who's going to buy your mechs?"
Who would buy his mechs indeed, Ves thought. For better or worse, the mech industry depended on the continuation of humanity's thriving martial culture. The amount of mechs that got wrecked and needed to be replaced in the Komodo Star Sector reached an astounding sum.
"Did you enjoy the holiday?" Ves asked.
"Well, it's not an adventure, but it's okay. Moira's Paradise is so different, it's like the people here are aliens. I don't get their fascination for living under a fragile dome all year long. The moment it cracks, all of that water will come crashing down on their heads! I'd rather live underneath the open sky."
Ves enjoyed the holiday as well. Besides the inspiration he received, it also felt refreshing to forget about his job, if only for a couple of days.
After the Nautilus returned to the surface, a large number of passengers departed the luxurious cruise ship. Ves and his entourage spent a short time on the artificial island before boarding the Barracuda.
"Back to Cloudy Curtain?" Captain Silvestra asked.
"Yup. Take your time, you don't have to hurry."
Before he returned to his workshop, Ves intended to do some market research as a final preparation for his draft design. While he could start to draft a design right now, he risked a disappointing reception if he disregarded the demands of the market.
"What do people in the Republic want from a knight mech?"
Ves already read up on the subject. Marcella had been very helpful in sharing some of her market research and industry reports. To make the long story short, the private market mainly geared up for a brutal slog against the Vesians.
Everyone expected the upcoming war to proceed in the same vein as the previous conflicts between the two rival states. The Bright Republic would be put on the defensive while the highly motivated Vesians did their best to break through.
The irreconcilable hatred between the Vesians and the Brighters ensured the war could drag on for up to five years or more. The mercenaries and company security forces that made up the bulk of the private market demanded robust designs that could potentially last them the entire war.
This fell into his niche, as his phoenix concept centered around extending the life cycle of his upcoming design. Still, his knight needed something more in order to distinguish his product from the masses.
Ves took inspiration from the late Jackknife Jake. While his dauntless personality made a profound impression in his mind, he also admired the semi-modular nature of his fish mech. To design a mech that continued to function bereft of most of its surface components took a lot of guts and skill.
He wanted to adopt such a feature into his own design to complement its undying nature, but practical concerns prevented him from going through with this idea.
"It's a lot easier to pull this off in the water than on land. The diminished form will have to come with its own miniature engine and power source, as well as a form of mobility."
Such demands took up too much space to make the concept feasible with the means at hand. Nesting mechs like the fish mech became more prevalent in the galactic center, where superior technology and materials brought about significant gains in performance while requiring relatively little space.
He turned his newly invigorated imagination in another direction. What do mech pilots want in their knight mechs? Ves poured into his research materials to look up the answer.
Ves spotted a tiny detail hidden beneath the personal testimonies. Besides the usual demands for power, armor and speed, the mech pilots wanted to own a mech that could dig.
He played a clip of an interview with a veteran mercenary pilot.
"How often did you find yourself huddled underneath the ground?"
"More often than I liked. The noble armies of the Vesians generally consist of a hodgepodge of designs, but one thing that's very consistent is that they bring lots of artillery, particularly missiles. They ship them in by the bulk and fire off their entire magazines in our direction to soften us up. Sometimes, the Vesians don't even care if they don't hit anything, because the bombardment has already frayed our nerves."
"If you know that they will be throwing missiles at you, why not prepare a portable bombardment shelter?"
"Those things work well, but they're only good for a single time. The cheaper ones weigh a lot so it's a massive pain to lug them around. The more expensive ones don't last long enough to pay for their expenses. It's better to take advantage of the natural soil around us and put a lot of earth between your mech and the missiles raining down in your sector."
"What about bringing in a digger module?"
"Are you kidding? Those things take up even more space, and they're finicky as hell! No, forget about those stupid gadgets. The only thing I need is an old-fashioned spade."
The veteran proceeded to detail the intricacies of digging a makeshift shelter. Different planets and climates led to different soil conditions. It took a lot of technique to dig out a semi-enclosed trench in a reasonable amount of time.
Ranged mechs that formed the mainstay of any squad often broke down easily if they helped with the digging. The arms of a rifleman mech specialized in aiming the weapon as accurately as possible. These types of limbs easily exceeded their maximum carrying limits if they went too far with digging.
More often than not, squads designated knight mechs as their go-to diggers. While knights possessed a lot of strengths, that didn't mean they excelled at digging. Many mech designers overlooked such demands when they came up with their knight designs.
"Interesting." Ves spoke to himself. "Could this be a gap in the market?"
In truth, many mercenaries preferred to be deployed in areas with readily available cover. If they couldn't find anything nearby, they would rather retreat and avoid the bombardment entirely. Only rarely did they decide to stay and ride out the storm.
However, his research into this topic revealed that digging became more prevalent in the later stages of the war. Most battles shifted from well-prepared fortifications to bombed-out ruins and temporary encampments in the wilderness. As everything started breaking down, a mech could only rely on his simple spade for suitable cover.
"So am I going to design a mole mech now?"
Ves wouldn't go that far. It became tempting to believe in the market research and try to form a response to every issue, but Ves only had so much space in his design.
"It's enough to take the possibility into mind."
A mech that could dig efficiently required a specialized set of limbs that diminished its ability to fight. Ves decided to make due with half-measures that made the digging a little easier while preserving the combat effectiveness of his design.
"This should be the base role of my design. A scrappy knight that also makes for a decent entrencher."
With this decision, Ves formulated the three required images for his Triple Division Technique.
The totem animal consisted of the mythical phoenix. This image represented his desire to design a lasting mech that would grow over the years and become more distinct with each round of repairs.
Ves decided to dedicate the human myth to Jackknife Jake. It saved him the trouble of formulating a fictional character. As a mech athlete, Jackknife Jake possessed keen instincts and a great sense for risk taking. Even if he lost out at the final moment of his career, the preceding feats in his career showcased his talent in this area.
"I need something with the drive to win no matter how frigid the situation has become."
This kind of motivation sounded rather dangerous. If Ves went too far with embedding this message into his design, his customers might be tempted to dive head-first into danger.
After a brief internal struggle, Ves decided to integrate this image into his design. "A knight has to possess a lot of courage to perform their roles. Otherwise, how will my design be able to excel in the field?"
The reality of the mech business was that the market paid attention to a design's performance in the field. Word of mouth spread quickly about good and bad designs. Mechs that performed poorly quickly resulted in cratering sales, while mechs that excelled on the battlefield exploded into popularity.
Much of this phenomenon depended on the habits and perception of the mech pilots in the field. Perfectly decent designs on paper might inexplicably be regarded as a harbinger of bad luck if a single pilot suffered from consecutive breakdowns.
Even if a lazy mech technician carried the actual blame for the mishaps, rumors always trumped over facts. Sometimes, investigators even found proof that a mech pilot deliberately made a fuss about their mechs at the behest of a competitor.
These days, the MTA came down hard on these kinds of practices, so Ves didn't worry too much about getting bad mouthed. What he actually concerned himself with was whether his design could stand out from the other knights in the market.
"With my reputation, it should be fairly easy to generate some initial sales. It's what comes after that I have to focus on."
The buyers in the mech market spent their money wisely. If Ves could influence his designs in such a way so that his customers used them in flamboyant ways, he'd be able to generate a lot of buzz for his designs.
He only hesitated because it could also backfire on him. If his design gained a reputation for driving his pilots into reckless action, his mechs would cease to sell as well as he hoped.
In the end, he decided it was worth the risk, and confirmed the concepts that he would use for his design.
"Two of my images are focused on different aspects of survival, while the remaining one prioritizes victory."
The lack of balance in the images had been a deliberate choice on his part. There was no point in employing seperate images if they all fulfilled the same role. By splitting the ratio from defense to offense in this manner, Ves emphasized the defensive aspect of his design while leaving room for offensive action.
"I'm ready to start my draft design."
Designing a draft meant he'd sketch out a loose outline of his mech. It fixed the general shape, type and weight-class of his mech and allowed him to figure out what type of components he should license for his final design.
Ves hunkered down in his stateroom aboard the Barracuda and projected his design software into the whole room. He took a deep breath and composed his mind, employing the Triple Division Technique at full strength.
His images showed signs of stirring up. As Ves infused the hungry concepts with his mind, they started coming to life. He held back his full force as he did not wish to wake them prematurely before he started with his actual design.
"This should be enough. Let's go with a medium mech."
He held out a finger in the air and slowly slided it downwards, leaving a single projected line. His finger turned direction, leaving behind another line, this one in a different angle. Ten minutes went by as Ves flicked his finger left and right, back and forth, up and down.
The resulting three-dimensional sketch looked like a mech doodled by a six-year old child. Yet in the eyes of Ves, it looked beautiful.
"Perfect."
Chapter 242
At first glance, his rough draft evoked more grace than grit.
The relatively sturdy profile of the knight took on a concave shape at the waist to save as much weight as possible. Most knight designs opted to beef up this area in order to protect the fragile engine and other related components. Unfortunately, all of the extra bulk tended to slow down the frame in a very major fashion.
"It's a good thing I've licensed a decent armor system."
The Keltrex armor system he licensed in exchange for merits allowed him to get away with more for less. It took up less weight for a comparable amount of protection to other armor systems, so Ves liberally took advantage of this trait.
While some people might consider that he went a little bit too far in trimming down the weight, Ves hoped that some would appreciate the upsides of his design choice. His draft design currently hovered in the middle of the mediumweight mech classification. Such mechs offered substantially more mobility than other medium knights that often strained against the limits of their weight class without sacrificing too much protection.
Besides trimming down the waist, Ves gently beefed up the areas that his mech couldn't cover with its shield. Most notably, he bulked up the shoulders to the point where it appeared his mech possessed pauldrons.
Knight designs sometimes included oversized shoulder pauldrons with the aim of employing them as disposable half-shields.
Any incoming attacks could be absorbed by the pauldrons instead of the mech's more sensitive parts. Mech technicians would be able to replace the pauldrons fairly easily if they got damaged. While it risked damaging the underlying arm mechanisms, it was still better than risking the integrity of the highly vital power reactor.
"My power reactor runs on medium-density mech-grade fuel. It can't handle battle damage like a power reactor that runs on electric current."
Another license he obtained from the Clifford Society, his power reactor focused mainly on endurance and durability. As a tradeoff, it plateaued fairly quickly, delivering a low level of peak performance. Still, paired with Oleg's efficient Trailblazer engine, his mech possessed an enviable level of endurance.
"My design should be able to operate for weeks without requiring resupply."
The only downside to this amazing feature was that his design relied on the supply of medium-density mech-grade fuel.
Generally, most mechs in the Republic that incorporated fuel cells ran on low-density fuel. Refiners produced them by the bulk with hardly any effort at all. In contrast, high-density fuel was strictly regarded as a strategic asset and could only be synthesized at specialized refineries owned by the state.
Medium-density fuel sat in between these two extremes. While refineries in the private sector possessed the capability to synthesize this kind of fuel, they often left it at the wayside due to limited demand. It cost several times more to run a mech on medium-density fuel, which was reason enough for most mech outfits to balk at the expense.
"Still, the tradeoff is worth it. It's not like the mech outfits can stock up on the fuel beforehand."
Incorporating the use of medium-density fuel in his design did not come without risk. While refiners managed to develop formulas that did not combust very easily, if exposed to sufficient heat, they might catch on fire. Ves had to draw up an array of fuel cells that could be emptied or ejected rapidly in the event it became exposed to something like a laser or a flamethrower.
"As long as its armor holds up, my knight shouldn't worry too much about getting caught on fire."
Ves trusted in the Keltrex armor system to endure lasers without transferring all of that energy to the mech's internals. As far as he was concerned, he got his merits worth more when he obtained this license.
"Too bad my licenses are only valid for ten years."
The value of the licenses would probably decline by more than half after the start of the new mech generation, but it still presented an unwelcome circumstance. Merits did not come cheap, even for the more established mech designers. Ves did not relish the prospect of running another life-threatening mission for the Clifford Society.
Hopefully, he made enough progress in the next ten years that he'd easily be able to afford the expense of renewing the licenses.
"Maybe I don't even need to bother with this hassle. Everything that's current gen will soon turn into last gen. There's not going to be much of a market for last gen mechs."
The newer licenses introduced at the start of a new generation always cost a massive fortune to procure. This gave the larger mech manufacturers a head-start in the race to design a new generation mech. If Ves wanted to take part in the upcoming rat race, he'd have to grow the LMC to the point it could afford the investment.
"It all depends on how well this design will sell."
His draft design incorporated several other premium aspects by taking advantage of his remaining licenses he obtained from Leemar.
The fuel cells he mentioned earlier came in a configuration that minimized the chance of setting off its contents.
The ECM he included in his design came with advanced active countermeasures that spoiled the locks of any targeting systems. The Coalition-developed system did not possess a large margin of superiority over local ECM variants, but it should be sufficient enough to handle anything the Vesians threw at his mechs.
Finally, the cockpit deserved a special mention. The reason why he went out of his way to obtain a cockpit license in Leemar was because it insured the pilot's safety without taking up too much space. It incorporated a powerful set of one-time boosters that lifted off quickly and traveled far enough to escape capture.
As an added bonus, Ves also cladded it with a thin layer of Keltrex armor. While the cladding added to its bulk, the extra protection offered his customers a lot of added reassurance.
Put together, his draft already possessed the right elements to compete against the prevailing models in its target segment. While the market offered a lot of better designs that approached the performance of a second-class mech, they also cost a fortune to buy.
Like Ves, their designers incorporated several second-class aspects to their design. This resulted in wildly varying prices in the upper segment of the local mech market.
"There's more."
His vision for his knight and the images he used to guide his design work led to a couple of distinctive design choices.
First, Ves included a couple of optimizations that enhanced his design's ability to dig. He strengthened the internal frame and the spine so that it could exert more force into hardy soil without causing any internal stresses.
Ves even incorporated a free spade with his design. If his knight didn't need to dig, it could slide the spade into a specially-designed slot at the base of the spine. The blade of the spade also happened to offer some extra rear protection to the Trailblazer engine that rested inside the lower torso.
Secondly, he flourished up his draft with a couple of phoenix motifs. This started with the head, which Ves formed into an avine shape. He even added in a protruding beak that the pilot could use as a weapon of last resort.
Besides the bird-like head, Ves modified the shoulder pauldrons to look less like slabs and more like overlapping feathers. While it looked rather gimmicky, this enhanced their ability to absorb wide-area impacts at the cost of slightly worse performance against piercing attacks.
It also made maintenance a little easier since the mech technicians only had to replace a few damaged feathers rather than a large slab of armor plating.
As an added touch, Ves also planned to add the Festive Cloud Generator underneath the shoulders. If the mech pilot wished to make his mech stand out, he could choose to pump out fire-colored vapor from the feathers, giving allies and enemies alike the illusion that they faced a phoenix.
Perhaps this extra feature looked a little gawky, but it resulted in a very distinctive appearance for his design. "It looks really cool, that's for sure."
The sword and shield rounded out the phoenix theme that Ves was running. His upgraded creativity sprang into full as he figured out ways to embellish the armaments without taking it too far.
The sword incorporated a standard one-handed longsword design, but Ves styled its crossguard in the shape of a phoenix in flight. With its sweeping wings extending out of the sword and the beak that transitioned into the actual blade, it looked rather fetching in his eyes.
The shield on the other hand took an asymmetrical design. It was shaped like a phoenix turning in flight, leading to a crescent shape that covered one side more than the other. The sharpened edge of the moon-shaped shield provided his knight with an extra offensive option.
Ves had to admit that he spent a lot more time on detailing the surface of the shield than he should. While the sculptured surface looked fantastic, Ves envisioned a lot of added work should he push it into fabrication.
"It's worth it."
For a draft, the phoenix-themed knight already appeared unique. Ves was pretty certain that very few mechs looked identical to his own. At the very least, the Bright Republic's mech market had never seen anything like it. Its distinctive appearance alone distinguished his product from the rest.
"Let's iterate on this draft."
The first draft merely represented the starting point of his journey to publish an original design. Ves constantly tweaked the general shape of his design, adding in refinements and fixing some of the more obvious flaws. He only put down his weary finger once the Barracuda arrived at Cloudy Curtain.
Once the passengers returned to the workshop, Ves decided to seek some input from his circle. He gathered up Calsie, Gavin, Carlos and Chief Cyril and brought them to his enclosed office. He secretly activated his Privacy Shield before he turned on a projector of his draft.
"This is a preliminary draft of the original design I've been working on. It's an endurance-focused medium knight that excels in long, drawn-out conflicts. It's a premium design that incorporates several exclusive licenses from the Coalition, but I think I can manage to keep its price tag to around 60 million credits."
Besides the schematic, Ves also included his estimates on its specs. The guesswork shouldn't deviate too much from the actual numbers should he turn his draft into an actual design.
Carlos immediately raised his hands. "Okay, forget about its performance. What's up with the bird stuff?"
"I've been wondering about that as well. It looks tacky as hell."
Ves expected their feedback to start with this point. "I'm running a phoenix theme for my mech because I want to convey the message that it's not the end if it sustains a lot of damage. The core of my mech is very strong. In the event it suffers a lot of damage, as long as the owners are able to recover the mech, they should be able to repair it close to mint condition."
"That's a pipe dream." Chief Cyril shook his head. "You're selling a lie if you boast about infinite repairability for your mechs. Unless you're using smart metals or self-repairing alloys or some expensive stuff like that, a battleworn mech will always degrade over time and use."
The chief suggested Ves to take care of the kind of language he used to boast about his design. Hyperbole might be fine if he used it sparingly, but he should not make promises he could never deliver.
"What do you think about the phoenix theme?" Ves probed the oldest man in the room.
"I agree with the others that it looks needlessly like a bird. You're laying it on a little thick. I suggest you cut back on the length of the beak and the feather covering of the shoulder pauldrons. The shield looks really good, although I'm not too certain about its asymmetrical shape."
All of his core personnel provided sensible remarks. Calsie pointed out that his design incorporated both feminine and masculine traits. "It's not the point where you can call it a typical 'girl mech' or 'boy mech', but I thought you should know. Knight pilots tend to be guys, right?"
"It's about the same as the total ratio of male and female mech pilots." Cyril noted. "There's always going to be a bit more men than women in the field."
"Well, your design isn't offputting to men or women in particular, so that should be a boon."
Ves turned to the final person in the room. Gavin hadn't spoken out a lot, which is strange as he possessed the strongest marketing background among the gathering. He appeared to be mulling over the draft with his chin resting on his fingers.
"What's your take on my draft?"
"That depends." Gavin uttered in a pretentiously serious fashion. "Do you want to make a lot of money or do you want to sell a lot of mechs?"
"Isn't that the same thing?" Ves frowned. Mech manufacturers made their money by selling mechs.
Gavin shook his head. "Not exactly. Let's take a step back and define your goal. What do you hope to accomplish with your initial original design?"
His related to the business rationale of releasing a new design.
Chapter 243
To clarify Gavin's question, Ves thought about his competitors. Some mech designers made a career out of their ability to develop fantastic designs but turned out to be awful businessmen. They didn't know how to run a business or hire someone trustworthy that did.
In contrast, the more business-savvy mech designers made the most out of their limited means. Even if their designs lacked a spark, as long as they marketed their product correctly, they ended up presiding over a vast consortium of production facilities.
Right now, Gavin hinted that Ves leaned towards the former while having ambitions for the latter. While the two did not fundamentally conflict with each other, the market might not think so.
"It's a great-looking design, fantastic even." He explained. "It fits right in with the display models you designed for the Vintage Festival. Yet most of the designs we see on the battlefield are predominantly plain. If they have any decorations at all, it's usually the unit emblem and whatever personal crest the pilot is using."
Ves had to admit that his runaway creativity prompted him to go overboard in adding art to his design. As he looked at the projected schematic, he felt that it would be a huge shame to diminish that aspect. The draft he drew up already matched up with the images in his mind.
"It's an artsy design, there's no way around it. Maybe it will scare some people away, but making great-looking designs has always been an interest to me. A good design should have an iconic look."
This aspect had always been present, but his increased creativity practically forced the matter out in the open. Ves felt the downsides to upgrading his major Attributes to suddenly. Sometimes he couldn't help himself from acting on his impulses.
"So are you marketing your product as a battle mech or a show mech?"
"Definitely a battle mech. With the specs it carries, it's a waste to use it as a decorative ornament."
"Hm, if you're determined to go this route, then you should make some adjustments to your strategy."
Gavin proceeded to outline his suggestions. "You can have the best of both worlds. You don't have to choose between selling out or maintaining your artistic integrity. Simply stick a gold label to your current design. You can associate the silver label to your dumbed-down mass-market variant."
"I see." The idea had a lot of merit and solved the dilemma Ves was beginning to develop. He could accept toning down the detail on his silver label variant if he could retain them in the gold label base model. "I like the sound of it. Simplifying the design will also make it easier for the mech technicians to fabricate the parts."
"You'll also elevate the gold label version into a desired product with this strategy." Gavin pointed out. "The extravagant appearance of your mech will turn into a boon since it will only be rarely seen. Anyone who buys your gold label product will feel privileged for owning it, just like with your other limited edition mechs."
"So it's basically taking advantage of perceptual contrast."
"Exactly so. It's like evaluating a pile of dung. A small mound is ugly and smelly, but people will prefer it if their only alternative is an even larger mountain of dung."
Everyone laughed at Gavin's words. Ves shook his head. "They're both dung, so I don't think that analogy works in this case."
"You get the idea. By the way, why did you use a bird theme on your land bound mech? Shouldn't you be designing an aerial mech instead?"
"Uh, oops." Ves sheepishly let out and scratched the back of his head. "I didn't think about that incongruity. I'll probably design an aerial variant once the base model achieves some success. For now, it's not important that my mech can't fly. It's merely decorative, anyway."
Many designers incorporate mythical beasts as themes for their mechs. It wouldn't be too odd to come up with an eagle mech or a dragon mech as landbound mechs, for example.
Calsie and Gavin didn't have much else to say about his design, while Carlos lacked too much experience. Only his chief technician possessed the background to dig deeper into the feasibility of his design.
"There are two more aspects about your design that look sketchy. The specs suggest you're aiming to keep the weight down so that you can enhance its mobility. Don't you think you've gone too far? The most basic job of a knight is to endure attacks before they go through and hit more vulnerable mechs. Depriving your design of the maximum affordable protection makes your knight suboptimal for that specific role."
Ves had thought about that issue. "You aren't wrong. I deliberately set out to design an offensive knight with a decent amount of mobility and agility. I think the tradeoff is worth it in this case because the quality of the Veltrex armor system will be able to compensate for the lack of thickness."
"Do you realize how unusual it is to publish an offensive knight design? The use of defensive knights is standard doctrine. When someone is seeking to procure a knight, they always default to designs that excel in defense. Gavin, what's the ratio in the current market?"
"It's about four to one in favor of defensive knights. That means offensive knights only take up twenty percent of the market share for knights."
Ves saw an upside to that observation. "That also means that the market for offensive knights is a lot less crowded. I've done my market research. Defensive knights are easy to design so they're crowding out the market. It's a lot more challenging to design an offensive knight and it can't be done without a high quality armor system."
They argued a bit more about the feasibility of his design, but Ves had already set his course. Nothing Cyril said could change his mind.
It was not as if Ves set out to ignore the wisdom of his advisors. He simply wanted to do something new. After all his work on the Caesar Augustus and its variants, Ves preferred to enhance his catalog with something lighter.
"There's nothing wrong with sticking to your own judgment on things. That's why you're the boss. You have no one else to blame but yourself if it turns out you're wrong."
A company ran on the whims of its boss. Sure, larger corporations possessed a more refined corporate governance, with the board of directors overseeing its general directions while the various executives decided on the specifics. The larger they grew, the more they resembled states.
Even with an annual revenue of over a billion credits, the Living Mech Corporation still remained stuck in its startup days. Ves hoped to change that very soon after his grandfather sent him some retainers to beef up his administrative department.
"What's the other point you want to make about my mech?"
Chief Cyril pointed at the rear of the design. "That spade is an eccentric addition to your design. I'm not arguing the utility of including it, but it doesn't seem to fit with the concept of your mech. You're selling a 60 million credit knight to the private market. At that price, the mercenaries who buy your products will be putting them in leadership positions. Digging is something that's done by grunts, not by officers."
"I think you're a little too optimistic about that statement. According to my market research, mechs don't always have the right supplies on hand. It's tough to carry adequate supplies around on a fluid battlefield. The integrated spade should prove very useful against the Vesians with their penchant for missile bombardment."
"You won't convince anyone to purchase your mech on this feature alone. It's not something you can brag about and expect to be taken seriously."
"Even if it sounds extravagant, I'm willing to bet my customers will be thanking me for embedding that spade in my mechs."
His design resembled a work of art, but a robust internal architecture underneath its attractive exterior. Combined with a nucleus of high quality components, his design should be more than ready to tough it out in the field.
That said, Ves only drew up a superficial design so far. It remained to be seen whether he'd be able to realize the potential of his design by solving every engineering challenge in his way.
After wrapping up his conference with his confidants, he decided to solicit the opinion of his mech broker. Gathering feedback and getting second opinions formed a very important part of the formal design process. He called Marcella over the comm and showed off his draft.
"Looks like you have a very solid idea of what you want to design." Marcella commented. "You'd be surprised how many mech designers muddle through their design process without a clue of what they'll end up with."
She began by asking a couple of obvious questions that Ves had already discussed with his employees. Surprisingly, she expressed neither approval or disapproval at his visual design.
"I've seen weirder things in my life. Mechs come in all shapes and sizes. I can work with any kind of design as long as it works." Her words reflected the attitude of a veteran mech trader. "Rather than say the market is more receptive to certain designs, it's more accurate to say that most designs start off as a blank slate. It's up to your marketing to drum up demand for your product."
"It's going to be my debut mech, so I'm guaranteed to receive some free publicity."
"I'm aware of that, but don't think you can sit back and rely on the press to market your mech in your stead. There are many people who don't pay attention to this kind of news. I highly recommend you set aside some funds for an ongoing advertising campaign."
"How much money are we talking about?"
"A hundred million credits if you want to spend the absolute minimum."
That took out a very sizable chunk out of his cash. Ves hated the thought of spending so much money on something that had no effect on the quality of his design. Yet Marcella didn't lie to him about the necessity to have a marketing apparatus in place at the time of his design's introduction. Ves risked missing out on a huge chunk of early sales if he couldn't get a message out.
Besides this comment, Marcella sounded very positive about his design. The estimated specs ensured that it would be a good fit for his targeted price point.
"There's only one problem with releasing a design at this point in time. The next generation of mechs is only nine years away. Your current gen design will be relegated to the bin of last gen designs in less than a decade. While you can take advantage of refined and discounted component licenses this late in the current generation of mechs, you'll also have to deal with early depreciation of your design. It's an unfair trade-off."
"There's nothing I can do about the timing." Ves shrugged. "If my design pans out, I'll have the capital to participate right at the start of the next generation of mechs."
After discussing more details, Ves ended the connection. He considered asking his grandfather and some other people for advice, but called it off after considering they'd hardly bring anything new to the table.
"I think it's time to spend my warchest."
Now that he completed a draft design, he should have a good idea on what kind of components fit with his mech. With a budget of around a billion credits, Ves had to be prudent in his spending if he wanted to complement his existing component licenses. He sat down next to his terminal and visited the MTA's internal market.
With his design still fresh in his mind, Ves hoped to obtain everything he needed so that he could move on to the next phase of his design project.
"Let's see what I need."
Chapter 244
Ves could spend as little or as much as he wanted to acquire the necessary component licenses.
If he wanted to splurge, he could blow a billion credits on the sensor systems alone, yet such an improvement hardly affected his design. "It's not about adding further improvements to my design, but retaining the strengths it already enjoys."
Desperate designers with an acute lack of money sometimes licensed outdated components offered by the MTA. They utilized technology that had been developed at least sixty years ago to plug a hole in their designs.
If Ves tried to do the same, he risked condemnation. As a premium design, his phoenix knight had to maintain a minimum level of performance across the board. He couldn't justify the 60 million credits price tag if he played fast and loose with his design.
He proceeded to splurge his entire budget on a number of generic licenses. Some components cost a little more than others, but Ves spent just enough to stray away from bargain bin territory.
Besides acquiring licenses for minor components that only die-hard enthusiasts cared about like gyroscopes or inertial compensators, Ves also made some big ticket purchases that played a vital role in the performance of his mech.
The sensor system cost an easy 100 million credits to pick up its license. At that price, Ves obtained the right to use a serviceable set of sensors that had specifically been designed to compliment knight mechs. It prioritized close-range detection over long-range detection and could take a beating as well.
"It's not like my knight will ever be used as a scout. It's enough if it can detect a sneaking mech up close."
The second major transaction consisted of a set of supplementary alloy formulas for the sword, shield and internal frame. Each part demanded different degrees of hardness, ductility, density and sharpness. The alloys that came with the Veltrex armor system only covered the exterior of the mech, and should not be used in other areas. Ves spent a total of 250 million credits to obtain all of these licenses.
The last major license consisted of the right to apply the Bright Republic's Modular Fitting Standard to his design. The Modular Fitting Standard or MFS was a relatively recent invention that aimed to standardize the dimensions of modular attachments for mechs.
Basically, the MFS ensured that every mech that used the same standard could share the same type of backpacks or other compatible devices.
For example, an MFS allowed a mech pilot to attach a standard energy pack from the Republic without worrying about compatibility issues. If he happened to come across an abandoned Vesian pack in the field, then he would have no luck, as the Vesian standard used a different set of dimensions. The plugs wouldn't fit in the sockets.
Before the proliferation of MFS, different companies and individual mech designers all employed their format. This led to a maze of confusing choices along with plenty of kludges as mech technicians tried to mate different modular standards together in the field.
Nowadays, each state or major faction sticks to a single standard to ease their logistics. The Mech Corps no longer had to keep track of fifty separate fittings.
Along with many other miscellaneous components such as transceivers and processors, Ves finally obtained all the necessary ingredients to design a mech.
"One billion credits down the drain. I only have around 400 million left in disposable cash."
The LMC still earned a decent amount of money out of routine transactions, so Ves didn't worry about running out of cash. Ves already reserved 100 million credits for an upcoming ad campaign, and he expected to spend a bit more to supplement the development of his phoenix knight.
"I'll have to fabricate a prototype at the very least." He mused as he stroked Lucky's back. The cat had woken up from his nap and demanded his daily dose of petting. "I can recycle it down to its constituent materials once I'm done with my tests, but I'm better off if I donate it to the MTA."
If Ves wanted to submit a valid original design to the MTA, he had to demonstrate he actually did all the work. The reality of the mech industry was that mech designers often cheated in their work. The worst cases involved stealing someone else's work through hacking or applying pressure.
"It's best to bring in the MTA right from the start. I should send my development logs to their servers."
He took some time to set up a secure connection to the MTA. Once every day, his computer systems passed along his documents, his data sets and more. He even included camera recordings of himself working on the design. This should leave ironclad proof that he alone developed the phoenix knight.
That was very important. A mech designer's first original design should always be the culmination of his own efforts. While he'd be allowed to employ assistants or specialists who worked on the components, the overall design of the mech must always be the reflection of a designer's skill.
Otherwise, any designer could ask a senior to 'help' him along. How could anyone be proud of their first original design if the senior did ninety percent of the work?
After establishing a connection, Ves was ready to move on to the next phase of his project. "It's time to mold my draft into an actual design."
This would be the most important phase of his design project. Ves couldn't afford any missteps at this point.
To turn his draft into a design, he had to incorporate the newly acquired components and fill out all of the missing gaps in the schematic. He expected to face a lot of bumps in trying to make something work the way he wanted to. Ves had to be inventive in order to make all of its goodies fit inside a single frame.
"At least it won't be as bad as the Caesar Augustus. Trying to fit multiple weapon systems in a single frame is a lot harder than trying to design a simple knight."
Ves faced two particular challenges in designing an offensive knight. First, he had to maintain a careful balance between mobility and protection. While he wanted to have the best of both, sometimes he could only prioritize one over the other. Ves had to make sure he didn't overshoot his priorities and put their balance out of whack.
His second priority lay in ensuring an adequate level of redundancy and compartmentalization in his mech's internal architecture. The downside to trimming the waist of his design was that it cut back on a lot of space that could have been used to toughen up his mech's internals.
He pondered over the issue. "The Keltrex armor system should be able to prevent a lot of breaches. It's not a disaster if my RF and CF ratios are merely average. A good mech pilot should be able to pull back before an enemy can exploit the holes in his mech."
Unless it was a matter of life and death, mech pilots always retreated before their mechs sustained too much battle damage. It took only a few stray shots to completely ruin a mech's internals. The benefits of staying in the field didn't outweigh the risks of death or totalling an expensive machine.
Before he embarked on his work, Ves wanted to take on any upcoming matters. He worked best if he could devote his entire concentration on his design.
"Ves!" Carlos called as he stepped inside his office. "You've got another pair of visitors from your family."
"Bring them to the lounge. I've been expecting them for a while."
After brushing up his clothes, Ves met with the retainers the Larkinsons had groomed on Rittersberg.
At first glance, the newcomers still retained the air of an elite from Rittersberg. The man looked like a typical bureaucrat, with his neatly groomed grey hair and impeccable suit. The woman looked younger, but still mature enough to occupy a senior position in a company. Both looked like they meant business.
"Ves, it's good to see you. My name is Jake Altern and this is Primrose Mackarie. We've been working on behalf of the Larkinson Estate for over a hundred years combined. I think you will find we can add a lot of value to the Living Mech Corporation if you let us take part in your venture."
Ves shook both of their hands. "I've already inspected your resumes, and I'm fairly satisfied with your qualifications. However, both of you have mainly worked in the retail sector. You will find that managing a mech business is a whole other beast than running a department store."
"We are aware of this shortcoming, but the Larkinsons have extensive connections to the mech industry."
Jake and Primrose had made an effort to immerse themselves into the world of mechs by reading up a lot of industry-specific textbooks. They also exchanged knowledge with various industry insiders. Together with their existing business acumen, the two should be amply prepared to take the helm of any medium-sized mech manufacturer.
"I'm glad to hear you've made the extra mile. The LMC is still in its infancy at this point, but I expect a lot of growth in the future once I publish my first original design. I'm going to need a competent COO and CFO to support my company's rise."
Without any further hesitation, Ves appointed Jake as the COO and Primrose as the CFO.
The chief operating officer often acted as the number two within the corporation. In the case of a mech manufacturer, the founder and principal mech designer usually occupied the title of CEO while the COO performed the actual day-to-day management of his company.
Since Jake occupied various leadership positions for the businesses under the Larkinsons, Ves could think of no other suitable position for him to adopt. His age and experience should provide a steady hand at the top.
The chief financial officer took care of the finances and bookkeeping of the company. The CFO led the financial department of a company, which managed its accounts and made sure that no one secretly siphoned any money away. They also kept track of any transactions and made sure that their ledgers complied with the law.
While Primrose's resume did not look as impressive as Jake's, her knowledge in the field of accounting surpassed anyone else in the entire company by far. Ves had always intended to hire an accountant to straighten up his increasingly burdensome transactions.
"The amount of money flying around will easily surpass a billion credits every year, spread over thousands of individual transactions. Right now, I don't have a lot of contingencies if something goes wrong. I hope you can help me with that, Miss Primrose."
"Just call me Primrose." She smiled at him. "I've already taken a peek at your records. It's a bit crude, but not as messy as I'd thought. There are a number of entries that your automated management suite has been producing a lot of errors."
With his permission, Primrose brought up his asset listings and pointed out the nonsensical credit values attached to some of his licenses and his equipment. The accounting software mainly failed to estimate the proper values of things Ves had acquired by exchanging merits or DP.
"Oh, yeah, I haven't really thought of that." Ves awkwardly grinned. "The value of some of these things is very substantial but has a complicated background."
For example, Ves had no clue how to estimate the credit value of his reconstructed Dortmund printer. It should be worth several billions of credits, but it wasn't exactly market standard.
Fortunately, his newly hired CFO didn't mind the oversight. "I can take up this task. It's imperative your company can deliver a proper accounting to the Republic's tax office if asked. They may even confiscate your assets if you've been negligent in this area."
That sounded very scary to Ves, so he eagerly handed off all responsibilities of this nature to Primrose.
Besides discussing accounting, Ves also laid out his future plans to Jake. "I'd like you to take care of three things. First, I want you to set up an administrative department for the LMC. You don't have to hire a lot of people, just make sure you hire enough to take care of all of the routine stuff that needs done."
"Consider it done."
"Next, I want you to help lay down the groundwork for the debut of my first original design. I don't think I need to explain how important its success affects my company and my career. My biggest priority is to secure a fixed supplier to supply the most critical exotics for my design. I'll send you the list."
"That will be difficult to accomplish." Jake admitted. "A fixed supply contract is mostly established through existing connections or referrals and needs to be maintained through trust and communication. I think it's best if I hire a specialist that can facilitate a connection with a specific supplier."
"Just get it done." Ves didn't care about the specific method. "My third demand is to get a handle on the political situation of Cloudy Curtain. My business is hovering on uncertainty right now because the ruling coalition has a beef with me. I've got a part-time law student filling me in on the situation, but I don't have the time to manage my relations with the scumbags in power."
"It's best to start up a relations department that can maintain ties with the local stakeholders of your company."
"Sounds good."
They had a fruitful talk about his intentions for the company. By the time the day comes to an end, his new executives should have a good idea on how to perform their jobs. Ves would keep an eye on them, of course, but he didn't expect any missteps on account of their experience.
Chapter 245
The addition of Jake and Primrose set the LMC's household in order. Ves granted them a liberal amount of authority as the newly seated COO and CFO of his company. They utilized their power immediately by setting up a couple of departments and staffing them with young hires from Cloudy Curtain and Bentheim.
"How many departments are you setting up?" Ves asked Jake as he drew up an increasingly complicated organization chart.
"I'm only thinking of six so far. I'm setting up the Human Resource Management Department first to expand on our recruiting. Once we get that going, Primrose will be setting up the Finance Department while I'll be hiring or appointing the people who can head the Marketing Department, the Research and Development Department, the Relations Department and the Production Department. I'll be taking care of the Administrative Department myself."
Ves practically leaned backwards when he heard his COO's ambitious plan. "Don't you think that's a little much?"
"Frankly, I'm surprised the Living Mech Corporation has made do with a handful of people so far. It's not appropriate to run a company that's worth a couple of billion credits with automated software and a few young enthusiasts. It's time for the LMC to grow up and act like an adult."
Even if Ves didn't see the need to expand his administrative overhead right now, he sorely needed it once he unveiled his original design. "I can see the rationale for all of the departments you've mentioned, but It's going to be a huge problem keeping everyone under control if you hire fifty people at a time. I want trustworthy people under my wing."
He continually hammered on this priority. Ves would rather be understaffed than let a bunch of strangers get close to sensitive data and equipment.
"There are methods we can use to minimize the risks. For a fee, we can resort to employment agencies that specialize in vetting job seekers. You're not the first person who harbors these kinds of concerns. Corporate espionage is very prevalent in the mech industry."
Unpleasantries like this could never be fully prevented. Rather than quiver in fear, Jake went on with his hiring spree, trusting his newly setup management systems to contain any attempts at sabotage or espionage.
"A malicious actor can't do much damage anyhow." Jake observed. "You're a step ahead in terms of securing your software and hardware. Sanyal-Ablin enjoys a stellar reputation in this front."
"They better be. I'm paying out of my nose for their services."
His workshop's office space had always appeared rather spacious, but within a matter of weeks, it became filled to the brim with new administrative recruits. Jake hired a bunch of flexible middle management types from a renowned employment agency in Bentheim to take charge of most departments.
Besides a clean background, the managers also had to possess untapped potential so that they could grow with the company.
New faces appeared in the office every day that Ves stopped bothering to learn their names. The officers of the various departments coordinated with the chief human resources officer to entice the right kind of people to join the company. Despite Cloudy Curtain's lack of development, HRM managed to attract a lot of talent.
"Bentheim isn't a very pleasant place to live once you think about it." Jake explained to Ves. "Prices are high and public security is low. If criminals aren't running roughshod around the streets, they still have to contend with the Bentheim Liberation Movement."
"I thought the Mech Corps succeeded in containing the BLM."
"Their off-world assets are diminished, but their roots will always be Bentheim itself. No one knows how many people they recruited and how many supplies they managed to scrounge up. Their leadership is in disarray right now, but they'll hit back hard once they get their act together."
That sounded very ominous. The news portals only published encouraging news that the BLM had been neutered to the point of barely being able to muster up a suicide bomber. On second thought, Ves considered that the government engaged in a very deliberate messaging strategy in order to sap momentum out of the rebels.
"I see. What we see and hear in the news doesn't always match up to the facts in the ground. How did you know?"
"You can thank our new officers for that insight. Most of them are aware of the real circumstances on the ground when they still worked in Bentheim."
A touch of worry appeared on his face. Ves did not know what to think about the backgrounds of his unfamiliar officers. The need for competence meant that his HRM department took on managers who previously worked for his competitors. Even if they officially cut their ties to their old company, they might be keeping in touch.
Still, the added workforce already made a difference. They eased the procurement of materials and set his inventory straight. They straightened up his accounting and made sure they complied with the law. The chief relations officer even started probing various suppliers for the possibility of entering a mutually beneficial relationship with each other.
Maisie Duval, his CRO, put it this way. "It's much like dating if you think about it. There are plenty of fish in the sea, but you have to make an effort to find the right partner in the dark. Right now, I'm sending out a signal that tells the fish we're interested in while simultaneously looking out for potential partners that are doing the same."
"What about the insular nature of the relationships at the top? Much of the resource market is kept in a stranglehold by the major industrial players."
"It's an ongoing issue, but I'm confident we can elbow our way into the periphery of their circle. We're too small to threaten their core interests."
In the meantime, Ves didn't sit back and do nothing while his workforce expanded. He turned his attention back to his design project. Before he embarked on the next phase of his project, he decided it was time to spend his generous DP savings of DP on upgrading his various Skills. He holed up in his private office and turned on his Privacy Shield before starting up the Mech Designer System in his comm.
"You're still my secret weapon, baby. With you around, I'm certain to make a splash with my new design."
The System had remained dormant all this time. Ves thought that he had been on the right track lately, so the System didn't prompt him with annoying Missions to get him to progress his career. He had no doubt that once he slacked off, the devious System would slap him with an impossible task.
"I love you, but you're still a bastard."
As usual, the System pretended to be a soulless AI and declined to respond. Ves knew the real score, however. Of all the wonders he witnessed so far, he refused to believe the System was as dumb as it sometimes looked. He would wring the truth out of the System once and for all one day.
"Status."
[Status]
Name: Ves Larkinson
Profession: Apprentice Mech Designer
Specializations: None
Design Points: 97,279
Attributes
Strength: 1.3
Dexterity: 0.8
Endurance: 1.9
Intelligence: 1.8
Creativity: 1.9
Concentration: 1.7
Neural Aptitude: F
Skills
[Assembly]: Apprentice - [3D Printer Proficiency III] [Assembler Proficiency III]
[Battle Mechatronics]: Apprentice
[Business]: Apprentice
[Computer Science]: Incompetent
[Electrical Engineering]: Apprentice - [Structural Pathway Configuration II]
[Mathematics]: Journeyman
[Mechanics]: Journeyman - [Jury Rigging III] [Speed Tuning III]
[Metallurgy]: Journeyman - [Alloy Compression II]
[Metaphysics]: Incompetent
[Physics]: Journeyman - [Directed Energy Weapon Optimization II] [Lightweight Armor Optimization I] [Medium Weight Armor Optimization III] [Melee Weapon Optimization II]
[Salvaging]: Apprentice
[Signals and Communications]: Apprentice
Abilities
[Superpublish]: Available. Can be activated once a year.
Evaluation: A post-human mech designer with a random collection of Skills.
"You're hinting something at me, right? That remark on my evaluation isn't a random statement."
The System sneakily expressed its opinion about the depth and breadth of his Skills. It thought that Ves lacked focus in any particular area.
"Most of my major Skills are Journeyman-level, so at least I have a solid foundation."
However, no mech designer truly excelled with only a good foundation. They had to offer something special to differentiate their products from the competition. The key lay in the Sub-Skills, which Ves had to admit he spread his attention somewhat. He possessed Sub-Skills that covered both ranged and melee mechs, for example.
Since Ves prioritized the development of an offensive knight, he decided to spend over 80,000 DP on Skills related to this archetype, leaving 20,000 DP as an emergency reserve.
"It will be a bit dangerous to drain my pool of DP, but I don't think there are any threats on the horizon that will push me to the brink."
Ves had no intentions of leaving Cloudy Curtain for the foreseeable future. He already felt quite secure with Raella and Melkor taking up routine patrolling duties around the perimeter of his compound. Sanyal-Ablin prevented assassins and saboteurs from getting in while Walter's Whalers deterred the criminal elements of society from disturbing his work.
"There's time to save and there's time to spend. I can't hold back when I'm about to design my first original mech."
He proceeded to spend his DP like a man who won the lottery.
[Assembly - Journeyman]: 2,000 DP
[Electrical Engineering - Journeyman]: 2,000 DP
[Signals and Communications - Journeyman]: 1,600 DP
First he upgraded a couple of his Major Skills that stalled in the Apprentice-level. All of them played a very integral role in enhancing his ability to design a good mech.
The upgrades enlightened him to many insights. Ves had to take a break for a couple of hours to digest the influx of knowledge. Even with his augmented mind, he still had to sort out the complicated theories and mountains of practical know-how all at once.
[Melee Weapon Optimization III]: 2,000 DP
[Melee Weapon Optimization IV]: 4,000 DP
[Medium Weight Armor Optimization IV]: 2,400 DP
[Speed Tuning IV]: 1,600 DP
After that, he gradually upgraded the related optimization Sub-Skills. At the fourth level, these Sub-Skills started to show their strength, granting Ves many little nuggets of knowledge that took Journeyman Mech Designers years to figure out on their own.
The optimization Sub-Skills didn't necessarily widen his options, but they allowed him to make the most of what he already got. They helped him spot more flaws and provided him with a little more solutions to squeeze out more performance out of his design. Reaching the fourth level in those Sub-Skills practically doubled his library of tricks.
Ves knew the value of this knowledge. "It's like I've apprenticed to a Journeyman Mech Designer for years and accompanied him as he designed his mechs. This isn't something I can learn from any book."
[Structural Pathway Configuration III]: 4,000 DP
[Alloy Compression III]: 4,000 DP
The following two Sub-Skills enhanced his ability to design the interior and exterior of his knight. Unlike the optimization Sub-Skills, Structural Pathway Configuration and Alloy Compression came with a lot of heavy theories that required Ves to employ his Major Skills to the limit to digest them all. The burden they placed on his Skills discouraged him from upgrading them to the fourth level.
"It's already sufficient for me to reach the third level in those two Sub-Skills." Ves decided after he recovered from the burden placed on his mind.
Now that he upgraded his existing Sub-Skills, Ves turned to acquiring some new ones, trusting in his instincts that it was better to acquire them now than later.
Since he had the DP to spare, Ves skipped over the cheaper Sub-Skills and started to consider the more exotic ones. One particular Sub-Skill for Battle Mechatronics stood out like a torch in the dark.
[Knight Mech Mastery I]: 40,000 DP
The extravagant price tag already hinted at its value despite its entry-level status. Every Sub-Skill that possessed the word Mastery came with a correspondingly high price. Ves had the sense that only Journeyman Mech Designers embarked on the road to developing their Masteries.
"There's got to be something special about a Mastery if the System feels obliged to demand so much DP."
What did Masteries entail to make them so valuable?
Chapter: 246
The System declined to provide an explanation on the nature of Masteries. The lack of description surrounding the various Mastery Sub-Skills roused his interests, especially since they seem to be advanced skills. The amount of DP required to learn the subsequent levels of a particular Mastery rose to a ridiculous figure.
Ves found it prudent to take a step back and find out more about this mysterious set of Sub-Skills. He browsed the galactic net, finding plenty of references, but nothing solid. It appeared the mech industry treated it like a trade secret that should only be kept within their circle.
"Interesting."
Fortunately, he found an introduction on the matter when he logged into the Clifford Society's online portal. He played a brief recording of a Star Designer lecturing in front of a conference of Masters over a hundred-and-fifty years ago.
"Mechs. We design them. We build them. We sell them. But do we understand them?" The elderly woman started. Despite her frail stature, her identity as one of the best mech designers in the galaxy shone through the brilliance of her eyes.
The audience remained silent. Despite their eminent status, the woman standing on the podium in front of them could easily beat them black and blue in any direct comparison.
"How many of you have ever piloted a mech? Simulations don't count."
A few hands rose up, but by and large, over ninety percent of the crowd had never truly piloted a real mech.
The old lady smirked. "Ah, you may think it doesn't matter. It certainly hasn't stopped me from reaching this height. It is a common understanding among our profession that you can only fully dedicate your life to pilot a mech or design them. No one among us has managed to advance to a Master Mech Designer while simultaneously becoming an ace pilot. It can't be done."
Everyone nodded in agreement at that statement. It took an extraordinary effort for professional mech pilots to progress from advanced pilot to expert pilot, from expert pilot to ace pilot, and from ace pilot to the exalted rank of god pilot. The latter of which enjoyed so much worship that they even exceeded the status of Star Designer.
"Yet how can we design mechs for the best pilots in the galaxy if we don't understand their perspective? Our individual design process is riddled with our own biases that we've formed through our own studies. Perhaps at the start of our careers, our shallow understanding of the piloting profession won't affect our designs that much, since our customer base is largely composed of regular pilots or advanced pilots at most. Yet will that superficial understanding of what many pilots are going through be sufficient when you become a Journeyman or a Senior?"
Among the crowd, a hand rose up. "In my entire career of designing mechs, I've never stepped foot inside a cockpit. But I've always listened closely to my customers and my in-house test pilots. I've never received any complaints about incompatibilities or severe discomforts about my products."
"Ah, but these are ignorant pilots who don't know any better. Just because they are unable to perceive any flaws doesn't mean they don't exist. If you compare a mech designed by you to a similar mech designed by someone who understands, the difference will be very apparent."
Everyone looked confused. What did she mean by understanding?
"Understanding means knowing what a mech pilot is going through when he pilots your mechs!" She exclaimed as she clapped her hands. "It is not enough to read a memoir or two. You need to understand their thought processes, their reflexes, their skills, their reaction time and more! The best way to understand a mech pilot is to become one!"
"But we just found out that most of us lack the aptitude to become a mech pilot."
"I just told you it's the best way, not the only way!" The lady snapped back. "Think outside the box for a moment! To design better mechs, we must understand the people who will use them. So your neural aptitude makes you unsuitable to pilot a mech, big deal. If we can't interface with a machine, why not interface with the mech pilots themselves?"
The revelation came as a bombshell. The neural interface had been developed many years ago as a way for neurologists to investigate the minds of their patients. Mind-to-mind connections quickly proved exceedingly dangerous as many instances of improper use led to permanent brain damage among the observer and the recipient.
The technology had only been salvaged four-hundred years ago when a genius had the bright idea of connecting a person to a mech to solve its complicated control issues. The dangers proved much less substantial as the mind of a mech was nonexistent compared to the mind of a person.
"It is not the Age of Stars or the Age of Conquest! Technology has advanced! We understand much more about the neural interface now that it has proliferated with the help of our profession. There are many experts in the field of neurology who have taken the neural interface and made it into a safer device to connect with another human's mind."
"Have you... have you actually interfaced with a pilot?"
"I did." She smiled, to the stupefaction of the crowd. Even if she claimed that the technology had become safer, the Masters hadn't gotten rid of their doubts. "I am still alive, as you can see. I can count to ten without stuttering and I can still go to the toilet without assistance. As long as you take the necessary precautions, there are many benefits to be gained by interfacing with a skilled mech pilot!"
"What do you get out of interfacing with a mech pilot? Is this a way to become a mech pilot ourselves?"
"Don't talk nonsense." The Star Designer shook her head. "Interfacing is not a way to copy another person's efforts the way you can copy a file from one data pad to another. Each human is unique. It's impossible for us to copy a mech pilot's skills, as much of it is embedded in his reflexes, muscle memory and other properties that are exclusive to his body."
Then what benefits did she obtain to make the risky venture pay off?
"I can't explain to you how wondrous it feels to connect your mind with another. The connection goes both ways, and while it is possible to block sensitive memories from your partner, it will destabilize the connection if you go too far. So up to a certain extent, it is best to interface with someone you trust."
She went on to describe the advantage of interfacing with a pilot. The Star Designer did not set out to steal a mech pilot's memories, but merely wanted to experience the sensations of piloting a mech first-hand.
"There are many tiny aspects about piloting mechs that escape your grasp. I have learned so many new things and corrected so many misperceptions after I embarked on this exploration. As mech designers, we often receive second-hand or third-hand information on what a mech pilot is going through. Neural interfacing enables us to blur the boundaries between yourself and your partner, allowing you to perceive the piloting experience first-hand from the best."
Someone realized the significance of her wording. "That sounds as if you interfaced with a mech pilot who interfaced with a mech!"
"Exactly! The best possible moment to understand a mech pilot is when he actively pilots a mech! The brain activities that go on in his mind can never be fully expressed if he lays down in a clinical lab with a device stuck onto his head."
No one had ever thought such a mad idea could work. If interfacing a pair was already fraught with risk, then connecting three people at once always ended in disaster. Researchers who pushed the boundaries always ended off in jail after turning all of their test subjects into brain-dead idiots.
"I'm still alive and well, as you can see, so don't look too surprised! The risks are great, but the potential gains more than makes up for it. My designs have improved remarkably to the point where ace pilots and god pilots have formed a decades-long waiting list for me to design a personal mech for them! It is because out of all my competitors, only I can fully tailor a mech that can bring out their full potential."
Once the crowd of Masters got over their shock, they started to see the advantages of understanding the minds of elite pilots.
The few potentates among them had never advanced beyond the rank of advanced pilot. To push themselves to expert pilots required a complete dedication to the warrior profession. No one had any delusions of advancing any further, so they never held any ambitions of understanding the perspective of ace pilots and god pilots.
Yet what they learned today opened the door to greater understanding. Comprehending the mindset of elite pilots finally became possible through the use of neural interfacing.
The Star Designer proceeded to explain her setup and the many technical challenges she faced. Much of it must be grossly outdated by now, but Ves still found it useful as the old lady explained the concepts that made the process work.
"Human-to-human neural interfacing can be used beyond getting into the minds of a mech pilot. Currently, I've partnered up with the MTA to research ways in which a mech designer can interface with a variety of soldiers and athletes to achieve a greater understanding on how to exploit the humanoid form, and thus achieve complete Mastery over a particular type of mech."
"Are there any dangers besides the obvious?"
"Good question!" The old woman praised. "Neural interfacing can go wrong even if you have the perfect setup with the right hardware. Think about what you are embarking on when you put on the neural interface. You are connecting your mind with another person. To illustrate how dangerous this can be, imagine if any of you, each with over a hundred years of life experience, would interface with a baby barely a day old."
Everyone who surpassed the age of hundred possessed a formidable mind, and that went double for Master Mech Designers.
"We've never tried it, of course, but the neurologists and researchers all project utter disaster for the baby. In order to ensure the interfacing won't overwhelm one mind or the other, it is important to balance them out in terms of mental strength. A simple old farmer who barely reached his hundredth year possesses the same strength of will as a child barely into his teens."
That meant that age was not the only factor. This basically meant that mech designers had to interface with mech pilots who closely matched their age, intelligence, life experience and career development.
For example, a Master Mech Designer should only interface with an ace pilot, while a Star Designer should only interface with a god pilot. Any mismatch on either side could lead to the weaker side sustaining permanent brain damage.
"What about interfacing with an animal?"
Everyone laughed at that question. The notion sounded so dangerous it was comical for someone to even entertain the suggestion.
"Even I'm not that crazy." The woman replied with a rueful smile. "Despite the many strides we've made to minimize the risks, the neural interface technology is still immature. It will take many decades before we can even begin to interface with felines and canids."
Once the recording came at an end, Ves sat back and digested what he learned. "So that's a thing."
After a hundred-and-fifty years, the state of neural interfacing must have made a lot of strides. Ves checked the Clifford Society on any other mentions of Mastery, and found a few oblique references.
It turned out that only major institutions like the Leemar Institute of Technology offered the facilities to conduct human-to-human neural interfacing. One document stated that only direct disciples of Masters would be eligible to take part in this tightly controlled process.
This explicitly left out someone like Ves with only a loose connection to Master Olson. He felt a little indignant at missing out on goodies like developing your Masteries. If the System didn't offer it with a huge amount of DP, Ves would never know what he lacked compared to other mech designers.
"Seeing it's like this, it's no wonder that the System charges 40,000 DP for the first level of a Mastery."
Despite the painfully high price, Ves became enamored by the idea of skipping out the risky process of interfacing with a bunch of strangers. Besides the difficulty of getting access to this exclusive process, Ves did not wish to let anyone rummage through his mind as he rummaged through theirs.
"The price is high, but the benefits and the convenience must be huge as well. I'd be a fool to miss out on a Mastery."
Despite the uncertainty swirling around this new and explosive field of knowledge, Ves pulled the trigger and bought the Mastery from the System.
A flood of scorching heat suddenly emitted from his comm. After a long period of dormancy, the System roused its might for the first time in a very long time.
Chapter 247
[Engaging dimensional and temporal neuro-translocation. Please rest in a comfortable position. Initiating in 10... 9... 8...]
"What the hell?"
[6... 5... 4...]
"What is neuro-trans-"
[1... 0... Initiating transfer!]
The world changed as if his mind had been sucked into a wormhole. He clearly felt his body being left behind as if a giant scoop pulled out his consciousness and dragged it along a distance that Ves could not even begin to describe.
Longer than expected but shorter than he thought, the wild ride suddenly ended when his mind abruptly crashed into a body.
A different body.
"Barley!" A strong smack thumped on his back. "Get your head back in gear! I know we're up in an avalanche of dirtbags, but we can make it through! Persevere!"
Ves instinctively turned around and straightened his back. "We'll get 'em, Captain!"
"Glad to hear it." Captain Osprey smiled at him, though he couldn't hide the glint of bone-dragging weariness from his eyes. " Make sure your Cepth-S is in shape to deploy in the next shift. Intelligence thinks the dirtbags are cooking up an assault, I want to make sure my best knight is raring to go."
"Will do, sir!"
Once the captain walked away, Ves took stock of his surroundings while he nursed his aching head. Ves somehow ended up in the body of an average advanced mech pilot named Ivan Barley in the Chittering Cicada Star Sector.
"It's over fifty years ago!"
From the memories Ves had access to, everyone fought with mechs that were two or three generations older than the modern norm. The System not only stuffed him inside a body halfway across the galaxy, it also sent him back in time, all without destroying Ves or Barley's minds!
To say that Ves had complete control over Barley's body would be wrong. Ves likened his current situation as a pair of images being superimposed upon each other. Barley was still Barley. Ves was still Ves. The joint entity they made up consisted of both.
"I am still Barley!" He uttered to himself. "No matter what kind of weirdness is going on, I still have a battle to fight!"
Both of them agreed to push aside their existential crisis in favor of addressing the bigger threat to their lives. The invasion of dirtbags onto their current planet.
From what Ves understood from Barley's memories, he fought for a fairly strong third-rate state called the Exilis Domain. While it couldn't match any of the second-rate states of the Chittering Cicada Star Sector, its relatively abundant territory transformed it into a regional bully among the other third-rate states.
Owing to its size and its wealth, the Exilis Domain frequently threw their weight around. It didn't help that its neighboring states all consisted of piddling petty republics. The citizens often considered their territory to be the palace among the wilderness, with the surrounding states making up the dirt that borders it. Hence why everyone from the Exilis Domain called them dirtbags.
Quite predictably, the neighboring states had enough of being bullied around by the Domain and decided to form an Alliance. Faster than the Domain thought possible, the Lokis Alliance united their armed forces and formed a vast Mech Legion to hit back against their regional aggressor.
The war had dragged on for two years now. Barley fought in the war from the start, but the constant battle slowly took a toll on his mind and his mech. Currently, he'd been tasked with defending the local underground headquarters on a low priority rural planet.
Neither side commited a lot of mechs to this war zone. This slowed down the pace of battles and broke them up into smaller skirmishes as both sides wanted to preserve their mechs and supplies.
"Right now, I should check my mech."
Ves navigated the sturdy alloy corridors of the underground base. Like every other pilot, he constantly wore his piloting suit in case he needed to be deployed immediately. His suit's climate controls already started to fail from constant use and lack of maintenance.
No one minded his odor because everyone else radiated their own stink. Besides, once he reached the mech stables, the harsh smell of metals and fuel overpowered any human scent.
"Chief!" He called out to the burly man overlooking his mech technicians from a ramp. "How's it going?"
"It's been better, Barley." Chief Jackson shook his head as he chewed on a stimulant. "We've already exhausted the supply shipment we received last week. I did the best I could to fix up your Jimmy, but I prioritized the shield arm over the sword arm."
That sounded kind of bad. His Jimenez had dueled against a swordsman mech in his last engagement. His knight received a lot of cuts trying to block the tricky sword strikes from the much more agile mech.
"I'll take a look myself." Ves replied with a tone of resignation. "Don't work yourself to death, chief!"
"Hah! I'd rather die from exhaustion than let the dirtbags shoot me in the head." Jackson laughed and strolled away.
From his experience on Groening IV, he knew that the maintenance department was straining its time and resources to the breaking point. They had to triage the mechs in order of importance and rank. The more expensive machines piloted by the officers got their turn first before the average mechs like his Jimenez received some attention.
When Ves reached his Jimenez, his enthusiasm deflated like a pricked balloon. Its design was bog-standard for its time, featuring the maximum amount of armor that a medium knight could carry. Along with its plain but serviceable sword and kite shield, the Jimenez had obviously been designed as a defensive knight.
"It's a slow, lumbering moving shield."
Strangely enough, the insights of Ves the mech designer and Barley the mech pilot combined in an unprecedented clear perspective on the merits of the Jimenez. Even if its designer lacked boldness and inspiration, he did a good job in designing a capable workhorse. Barley had piloted his Jimenez through dozens of battles and skirmishes over the last two years and the machine hadn't let him down.
Barley had developed a bond with his mech. Even if the machine had been mass-produced without any love, his irrational affection for his mech pulled him through the constant fighting. While Barley hardly ever thought about the significance of his feeling, Ves found it to be a curious phenomenon.
If someone like Barley piloted a gold label mech fabricated by Ves, he'd be able to achieve a much greater synergy with his machine.
The way Barley approached his routine check relied on feeling rather than a solid understanding of the physical makeup of his mech. He mainly tapped against the worn-out armor plating of his mech and stepped inside the cockpit without it on, preferring to breathe in the smells in the dark.
To be frank, he wasn't inspecting his mech for flaws so much as to distract him from his worries about the war. All of that stress and worry faded away once he stepped inside the sanctuary of his mech.
Still, the addition of Ves prompted a change in routine. He turned on the console and checked the diagnostics of his Jimenez. Most of the technical readouts should mean gibberish to Barley, but Ves gained a good understanding of the state of his mech.
"Goddamnit. How many corners have been cut?"
A knight should be durable, and a defensive knight should be even sturdier. What Ves gleaned from the diagnostics was that the design incorporated sub-standard materials and the manufacturer didn't pay much attention to quality control.
Ves pulled up a hidden setting buried beneath the operating system of the mech. It summarized the complicated data into a color-shaded schematic of the Jimenez.
"No need to thank me, Barley."
Half of the components went from a green to yellow condition. While that sounded mild, a mech should only reach this stage after ten years of regular use or five years of intensive fighting. A few critical areas such as the sword arm blinked in an alarming shade of orange with a smattering of red.
The overall picture looked discouraging, but it could have been worse. He suppressed the urge to pick up a multitool and perform some easy fixes to his mech. It would have been out of character for a musclehead like Barley to gain any form of technical competence.
It still ached his teeth to let those faults remain in place. "It's like boarding a shuttle with sputtering thrusters. You just know it will kill you one day."
A few hours went by as Ves and Barley re-familiarize themselves with their mech. The marrying of Barley's intuitive understanding of his machine with Ves' extensive technical background resulted in a lot of new insights for both.
"Ah, so that's why the arms are so frail despite their thick construction. The alloys that make up the internal frame are great at absorbing sudden impacts, but are prone to erosion if subjected to a constant level of low-impact shocks."
"The power reactor is the best part of this mech. It's obviously licensed from a major trans-galactic corporation. I don't have to worry about power supply as long as the internals hold up."
"Enduring constant attacks has shifted the dimensions of the Jimenez. It's asymmetrical now, with the shield half being pushed back half a centimeter compared to the sword half. All of that caused the frame to deform and open up more fault lines.
"What kind of grease monkey had the bright idea to fix the transceiver coupling with a copper wire?!"
A lack of personnel along with the need to work as fast and frugal as possible led to a lot of inevitable screwups. The lackluster longevity of the Jimenez also didn't help, as its design had been pitched to the Exilis Domain as a knight that could deliver a burst of peak performance whenever they decided to bully one of their formerly weak neighbors.
Ves learned a lesson from this realization. "Assumptions don't always pan out. You can plan ahead for your design, but that doesn't mean they're subjected to their intended use."
The Domain had no other choice but to stretch out the service lives of their mechs. The conflict raging at its borders had dragged on for so long because the hatred had grown too deep to settle with a couple of set piece battles.
Ves didn't care too much about the war but Barley felt otherwise. His disdain for the so-called dirtbags had turned into blind hatred after losing so many friends and colleagues to their stubborn aggression.
An alarm suddenly rang from the speakers. "Alert! Long-range sensors have detected scouts approaching our position!"
Everyone dropped their routine and entered into a frenzy. The mech technicians hastily put the half-repaired mechs back together while the mech pilots gathered up in front of their officers.
Captain Osprey paced back and forth in front of his diminished platoon of eleven pilots. There used to be thirty among their number.
"It's not likely the dirtbags sniffed us out, but their scouts are ranging closer than we're comfortable with. Given time, their scouting systems will be able to read the traces that our mechs have inevitably left behind and follow them straight to our base. Our job is to stop them before they make it that far!"
"Won't they know we're close if we show up out of the blue?" Shaundra asked as she scratched her head. Her hair had already started graying.
"That's why we're taking our mechs through a backup tunnel and emerging from the other side. We'll pretend we've been conducting a long-ranged patrol and happened to have stumbled upon the scouts. If all goes well, we can fool them into thinking that our base is on the other side of this sector."
"How many mechs are we facing?"
"Seven or nine, the scanners aren't very clear about that. We're mainly dealing with light mechs, so we should be able to smash them apart with force. Any further questions?"
They boarded their mechs once everyone understood the stakes. Ves entered his own Jimenez and roused it from its slumber. For Barley, one battle was like any other, but for Ves it was an entirely novel experience.
"This is my first time stepping into battle as a mech pilot."
Barley's constant reassurance lessened the fear that threatened to overwhelm Ves. He wondered if he would die for real if Barley happened to meet an unfortunate end. Would the System pull back his consciousness in time, or leave him to die as a consequence of his failure?
He couldn't afford to take the risk. "I have to survive."
Barley's lust of battle pushed aside his fear. He became eager to experience how a real mech pilot fought.
Chapter 248
Barley deployed on the field with his Jimenez along with Captain Osprey and ten other pilots. If anyone looked at their mechs, they'd shake their heads and say what a sad sight they represented. Every mech featured scratches, scuff marks and even pockets of rust. The melee mechs had it worse than the rifleman mechs..
Captain Osprey commanded only two medium knights, one of them being Barley's mech. The success of the upcoming engagement rested largely on Barley's ability to endure under pressure.
For a seasoned mech pilot who already went through this slog for two years, Barley shouldn't feel worried. For a young mech designer who mainly ran away when faced with threats to his life, Ves felt as if he entered the women's bathroom.
"I don't really belong here."
He kept those words to himself. No need to worry his comrades and his superior officer that their reliable knight pilot suddenly shared his mindspace with a mech designer from the future.
"Is this even the past? I don't believe that's even possible! This must be an elaborate simulation or an alternate universe at most!"
The implications of actual time travel frightened him beyond belief. Who knew how many entities messed about the timelines if it actually became convenient for them to travel back and forth in time.
"Barley." The captain uttered over the secure channel. The Jimenez's transceiver was in a shoddy state, leading to a fair amount of static even if another mech stood right next to it. "I know your machine's sword arm is bad, so I won't let you take points this time. Johnson's Jimenez is in decent shape compared to yours, so I'm putting him up as the vanguard. You'll be taking the rear to keep an eye out for ambushes."
"Got it, sir."
"Be sure to stay on your feet. If Johnson has to back out early, we're going to need your shield arm at the front!"
Barley's pride as a knight pilot swelled at being given the role as a protector. With his stodgy attitude and unsophisticated mind, he excelled in enduring the rigors of piloting a knight.
To Ves, Barley's personality provided him with a valuable window into his clientele. He realized that someone who specialized in piloting defensive knights would not enjoy switching over to an offensive knight. They preferred slow, deliberate and reactive combat over faster maneuvers and taking the initiative.
"I don't want to be in charge." He reaffirmed his thoughts.
Before Ves could mull over the implications, Osprey alerted them that they neared the projected zone where the scouts had been nosing about. "It's showtime, lads. Everyone, slip into battle formation. Johnson, stick close to Eloise, she's our sharpest shot after Fitzgerald kicked the bucket."
Barley took up the rear as ordered. His mech continued forward while its sensors scanned the rear. At their current state, the enemy would likely detect them first, but Osprey's personal mech possessed some pretty good sensors as well, so they'd be able to force a fight regardless.
"Contact!" Osprey barked. Their screens updated with the positions of the enemy mechs. "They're spreading out, pursuing!"
Their mechs huffed towards the closest enemy bogey as fast as possible while still keeping together. The presence of the two lumbering knights slowed them down, making it impossible to catch the enemy scouts if they persisted in their flight.
"These cowardly dirtbags aren't even turning around to take a peek at us!" Osprey cursed as he decided whether to ditch his protection in order to catch up to the slower enemy scouts. Caution prevailed, however. "There's something funny about this. The dirtbags aren't splitting up. They aren't running closer to our base and into our trap either. It's as if... they're leading us into a trap of their own!"
Too late! The enemy scouts slowed their flight and turned around to close the net. From the sides, several more signatures emerged as mechs appeared from underneath their sensor-blocking camouflage.
"Two from the west, three from the east and three from the south!"
Along with the seven scouts that had been leading them on, that meant their unit faced a total of seventeen mechs! Several of his fellow pilots started to curse in the open channel. Someone even suggested that a traitor leaked the details of their deployment.
"Can it, folks! Traitor or not, there's enough enemies to go around, no need to look behind our backs!"
Captain Osprey eventually ordered them to make a stand while he hollered back to base to send some backup. Help would be on the way, but the chase had led them far away. The first wave of reinforcements was already on its way.
"Nine minutes! We have to hold our ground for nine minutes! That's all I'm asking for!"
Everyone became determined to last this long. Barley felt proud for being given the responsibility to help their unit endure the coming ambush. Ves did not share his enthusiasm for turning to a sitting duck, but he had to make do with what he got.
With contact imminent, Ves relinquished much of the control of their body back to the original personality. He had no delusions that he could outperform Barley's expertise in handling the Jimenez.
His decision proved wise, as Barley's instincts prompted him to jump his mech to the left and catch an errant sniper round aimed for Eloise's mech.
"Thanks Barley!"
"No problem, sweetie!"
As Barley positioned his Jimenez to catch another volley of incoming fire, Ves grew fascinated with the way he fought. His perspective inside Barley's mind allowed him to witness up close how a knight pilot thought and acted.
"It's a lot more instinctive than I thought."
Many times, lasers and projectiles appeared too sudden to respond, yet Barley managed to anticipate at least a third of their fire. Much of it had to do with pooling his experience, instincts and his intimate knowledge on the armament of his enemies into his instinctive reactions. It was akin to a form of enhanced gut feeling that allowed him to block so many shots.
"Is this what an advanced pilot is capable of?" His impression of defensive knights had already gone up a notch so far.
Skirmishers are closing in! Don't let them take out our rifleman mechs!"
Osprey's men shifted gears. They stopped trading potshots at distant mechs and started firing their weapons in longer bursts at the incoming light mechs. Barley quickly noted that the enemy mechs wielded daggers, which meant that they felt confident they could get past Barley and knife the vulnerable ranged mechs.
"Not on my watch!" Barley uttered as he changed the footing of his knight. The Jimenez waited for the closest skirmisher to come within a hundred meters before springing his mech to the side. "Caught you!"
The weak sword arm held up for now as the Jimenez managed to rake one of the skirmisher's arms with his heavy knight sword. The weight of the blade did most of the work, successfully chunking the thin and fragile limb.
The Skirmisher lost its balance from the blow. A friendly spearman mech quickly capitalized on the vulnerability and punctured the unbalanced enemy with a stab through the chest.
The first blow was made in haste and without momentum, allowing the Skirmisher to sacrifice much of its armor to bounce away from the blow. Unfortunately for the enemy pilot, Captain Osprey slashed it from the other side with a single stroke from his swordsman mech. The enemy didn't stand a chance.
"Help out Blazer and Eloise!"
Barley had already dismissed the first skirmisher as soon as it skidded out of his range. The limited mobility of his knight didn't allow him to chase after his opponents. Instead, his responsibility was to defend a zone and make it difficult for enemies to approach his position from a certain angle.
The presence of the two knights at the front and the rear constrained the enemy by their presence alone. The light mechs possessed no wish to confront them directly, which forced them to approach the cornered Domain pilots from the sides.
In turn, the limited approach vectors allowed the defenders to concentrate their fire in only two directions instead of four. They already took out three foolhardy skirmishers who thought their speed and agility would make them impossible to hit.
The dirtbags learned their lesson and waited for the noose to tighten before they reengaged.
"The medium boys are here now!"
A handful of medium mechs that weighed on the lighter end of their weight class arrived to take point. Barley mainly had to deal with three swordsman mechs of different make. While he possessed a vague familiarity of their designs, he didn't know enough about their capabilities to prevail against three at once.
Sweat poured down from his head where the neural interface connected to his head. Barley had ended up in a number of tight spots over the course of the war, but never did he face such dire circumstances.
Ves found it admirable that Barley still maintained his duty towards the Domain and kinship towards his comrades. He never thought of flinching away. It betrayed the very core of the principles he held as a knight.
As the three enemy swordsman mechs closed in, Barley figured out their plans. They'd leave the middle mech to tie up his Jimenez while letting the other two mechs run roughshod over his unit's vulnerable ranged mechs.
The awful thing about their plan was that Barley could do nothing to stop them. Any decent pilot of a swordsman mech learned how to leverage its mobility to constrain a knight mech.
Even though Ves was shaking in his metaphorical boots, his considerable mind constantly studied the designs of the enemy mechs. He realized quickly that they didn't appear to be in tip-top shape either. The Alliance forces on this remote planet suffered from a lack of supplies as well.
The faded scars of battle damage told its own story. Ves possessed a decent amount of experience with repairing damaged mechs, so he was able to read the markings as clear as day.
"Target the middle mech's legs! It's been blown apart before, and whoever replaced them employed weaker alloys underneath the standard system!"
The mech technicians did a good job disguising the inferior patch job underneath a top layer of standard armor. Any regular mech pilot wouldn't know the difference, but Ves was different.
Upon his advice, Barley slammed the bottom edge of his mech's shield against the nearest leg of his immediate opponent.
CRUNCH!
The swordsman mech lost its footing as its right leg gave out. Barley spent an errant moment stepping his mech's foot against the other leg, which crippled the stricken mech.
Barley had no time to finish off his victim as he also had the other two mechs to contend. His comrades already had their hands full in fending off the remaining dirtbag mechs. If these other two mechs attacked them from the flank, then their unit would quickly be wiped out!
"Focus!" They both said to themselves as they turned their attention to the left.
Ves already analyzed its major weak point and relayed them to Barley with the speed of thought. Barley slammed the shield close and blocked the next sword strike before hitting back with his own thrust that slipped through the sloppily sealed gap between the lower left side of his opponent's torso.
The swordsman mech lost all power and dropped to the ground like a lumbering ox that got hit by a tranquilizer.
Having taken care of his second opponent, Barley strained his mech to turn around as fast as possible to hurl his shield high against the final swordsman mech's head.
The errant throw dislodged the head from the frame entirely, momentarily disorienting the pilot as he had to get used to a sudden shift in perspective as his mech's backup sensors took over his primary view. A sword thrust from the rear downed the bewildered mech before it could recover.
"I don't know who you are, but you're goddamn smart! Keep 'em coming!" Barley yelled as he shifted his mech towards Eloise to help her fend off a skirmisher mech.
The enemies closest to his Jimenez noticed his abnormal performance. They lessened the pressure on his comrades in order to deal with the greater threat.
Chapter 249
"Ves?" Jake knocked on the door of the office. He tried to contact his friend through the company channel but failed to get a response. "There's an issue regarding the board of directors I'd like to talk to you about. Are you in?"
Nothing happened. The door remained stubbornly shut like a high security vault.
He started getting worried. Ves had a habit of focusing on his work for days at a time, but he usually put down his work if someone needed his input. This was the first time Jake couldn't get a hold of his boss.
He considered calling security to force open the door, but called it off after Carlos noticed his concerns.
"Ves can get really intense sometimes. You haven't seen him when he designs a mech. He's obsessed to the point of being deaf to the rest of the universe."
"What if he's having a seizure or something?"
"Hey, what age are we living in right now? His comm will send out an alert if something's wrong. Nah, it's best to leave him alone while he's in the zone. You don't want to ruin his mood when he's in the process of designing one of the most important mechs in his career."
As the COO of the LMC, Jake knew more than anyone else how much the company relied on the upcoming original design. The LMC could pump out variant after variant, but wouldn't be able to ascend and make significant progress simply by making cheap copies of other people's work.
Despite the healthy market for variants, it carried the stigma of too many bad designs. The mech market simply trusted original designs more.
Jake shook his head. "Well, if you get a hold of Ves, tell him his grandfather will nominate a number of people on the board of directors. A company of our size can't make do with two. The law mandates at least a headcount of five board members for companies that earn more than a billion credits a year. We also have to form a number of committees including a labor committee and an ethics committee."
"Sounds complicated." Carlos frowned. He felt sorry for Ves. "It's a lot different than the old days when it was just me and the boss. I kind of miss the simplicity of it. Now I have to fill a half-dozen forms just to use the Dortmund to fabricate a spare bolt."
"We're not adding those procedures just to make life miserable. Part of it is to comply with safety and tracking laws, but it also helps cut down any possible abuse."
The rapid expansion of the LMC left a lot of hiccups as the company didn't have a formal structure in place that scaled with its growth. Jake and the other managers had to develop solutions on the fly in order to maintain control over their increasingly complex hierarchy.
While Carlos and Jake talked about the changes that came with the professionalization of the LMC, Ves was having a desperate time keeping up with the fighting.
"Barley! We've got incoming from your left!"
"I know, but I have to fend off this bastard before he gets to Eloise!"
The hunt-turned-ambush reached a desperate stage as the attackers from the Alliance plowed past the defenses of the Domain mechs. Half of their rifleman mechs had already fallen, though Captain Osprey and his men gave as good as it got and disabled an equivalent number of opponents.
What caused the combatant to fight as if possessed by devils was the fact that many of the downed mechs could still be recovered. Some of the mech pilots managed to eject, but many more remained stuck in their disabled machines as the ejection system failed to launch due to battle damage.
The side who won would be able to salvage their mechs and the lives of their compatriots. As for the losers, they'd be captured or receive a summary execution.
With the fate of so many brothers and sisters on the line, no one thought of making a retreat.
In these circumstances, Barley's performance clearly made a difference. He had already disabled three complacent mechs before an officer of the dirtbags stepped up to contain his seemingly berserk Jimenez.
"I don't know who you are, but don't think of getting away from me while I'm here." The officer taunted as he flourished his curved sword for another tricky slash.
"Get out of my way!" Barley shouted over the open channel as he turned his mech in a position to bash the officer's mech with his shield. Unfortunately, the officer easily anticipated the attack and danced around the Jimenez, taking the opportunity to leave another mark with his sword.
"What's this dirtbag mech's weak point?"
Ves had been trying to puzzle that out for a while. "I'm trying, I'm trying! His mech is clearly first in line when it comes to maintenance. Do you know how hard it is to spot its weak points when it's been lavished by a full shift of mech technicians?"
"I don't care! Get me a weak point now or we both die!"
There was nothing like the pressure of death to motivate his full potential. "I've got it! Target his wrists! They've received an aftermarket modification to make them nimbler. That's how the officer is making all of those tricky moves. You just need to compromise their structural integrity a little bit. Brute force will do the rest!"
Now that he finally received a target, Barley roared to life as he forcefully pushed his mech shield-first into his opponent's grip. The aggressive move caught the officer off-guard but failed to make impact due to the swordsman mech's quick reaction.
"Again!"
Barley kept going, targeting the wrists with both his sword and his shield. A satisfying crunching sound rang throughout the forest as one of the wrists couldn't handle the weight of Barley's shield.
"Eloise!"
"Got him!"
The female marksman turned her attention away from fending off the enemy ranged mechs to snap a quick laser volley at the officer's mech. While the laser beams didn't do much except some of its armor, the sudden attacks succeeded in creating an opening which Barley ruthlessly exploited by thrusting forward with considerable momentum. The stab succeeded in punching through the waist, though the armor mitigated much of the damage.
That didn't matter for Barley, as the shock opened up his opponent to a quick triple combo that disabled the officer mech's engines and forced the officer to eject.
"I'm coming, Eloise!"
He was too late. The other mech that approached from his left had bypassed him entirely and went for the vulnerable rifleman mech. Eloise already lost her rifle as she held it sideways in order to fend off a heavy chop. Her mech drew out a pitiful backup knife that looked like a toy compared to the full-sized mech sword in the hands of the menacing Alliance mech.
"Leave her alone!" Barley roared as he urged his mech to close the distance. However, he realized he'd be far too late as the enemy pilot reared up his mech for a fatal slash that targeted squarely at the cockpit. "I got to go faster!"
"Give me control over one of your hands!" Ves suddenly urged. "I can make something happen!"
Barley didn't even doubt the other voice in his mind and relinquished a considerable amount of control to Ves. Some of the strong and intensive feedback of the mech ran through Ves, battering his consciousness for a split second. Despite the main upgrades to his mind, his neural aptitude still remained the same as a norm.
His mind simply couldn't handle the flood of foreign data. Barley quickly reined in his mind and spared Ves from any further ago.
The delay almost proved disastrous, but Ves managed to use Barley's co-opted arm to override the safety limits of the Jimenez.
With so much power running through its systems, Barley's mech gained a considerable amount of speed. He quickly lost his footing but not before he slashed the swordsman mech's back. The hasty attack bounced off the swordsman mech's armor, but the enemy pilot couldn't stop Barley from his follow-up attacks.
"Thanks, Barley!"
In the next couple of minutes, Barley completely turned the tide of the battle, having taken out a total of seven mechs! Each enemy that the knight pilot cut down was one less mech that could bother his comrades.
Soon enough, the numbers turned against the Alliance. Their flimsy mechs already held up poorly against their opposition, and the battle only turned worse when Barley the Destroyer chopped them down one by one by himself or with the help of his brothers.
Half of the Alliance pilots managed to eject, but some got stuck in the beginning stages before the process got stalled for various reasons.
"The sensor readings sent out an alert." Captain Osprey sounded grim over the comm. "Enemy reinforcements are coming. This time It's the big boys, likely the main force that's been trailing behind the scouts.
Their own reinforcements would still take three more minutes to arrive. Captain Osprey faced an increasingly difficult choice as the numbers of the enemy main force became clear.
They came with over thirty mechs. While much of them consisted of cheap frontline mechs, when they gathered in any significant numbers, his remaining mechs wouldn't last a minute under all of that firepower.
"Barley. Johnson. I hate to do this to you, but I'd like you to hold up the rear guard while we fall back."
"Sir! We can't." Eloise sternly objected. "That's leaving them to die!"
"We're all going to die if we stick to this location! We've got to rendez-vous with our own reinforcements, but the Jimenez models are too darn slow to bring along!"
"Don't argue any further." Johnson's cool voice emerged from the channel. "It's our job to hold the line."
"Why are you doing this?!"
"Because I'm a knight!"
"Because knights are meant to protect!" Barley echoed his fellow knight's conviction. "We're running out of time. Go now! Don't let our sacrifices be in vain!"
The surviving Domain pilots hesitated no longer and disengaged from the fight. They fell back straight towards the direction of the incoming reinforcements. While a number of enemy skirmishers sprang in pursuit, the two knights stubbornly stood their ground with their swords pointed to the ground littered with downed mechs.
The threat was implicit. If the Alliance soldiers chose to evade the slow and lumbering Jimenez mechs, they'd be consigning their fellow mech pilots to an early grave.
Four mechs stayed behind, all of them in the medium weight class.
"There's two to go around for both of us." Johnson mirthlessly jokes. "I don't know how you turned into such a beast, Barley, but keep it up, because we'll need every bit of your magic!"
"It's coming right up!" Barley replied as his other hand took on a life of its own. It zoomed in on the readouts of the enemy mechs and rapidly pointed out a series of vulnerabilities which it sent to Johnson's mech. "Aim for these vulnerabilities! I guarantee you they're the real deal!"
"Really?" His colleague sounded skeptical, but had no time to ponder how Barley figured out so many weak points as the enemy medium mechs simultaneously sprang forward.
Barley had a difficult time fending off his two attackers. One of them wielded a sword while another utilized a spear. While the pair showed little cooperation in their movements, the fact that they attacked from opposite angles made it difficult for Barley to finish off one opponent faster than the other.
His mech also suffered from the after-effects of the momentary boost in speed. This became most pronounced in the limp manner in which his Jimenez attacked with its sword.
Both Ves and Barley ran through countless ideas, but none of them had any chance of success. His Jimenez had reached the tail end of its operational life and Barley could barely squeeze any more potential out of its beaten frame.
"Too slow! It's simply too slow!"
A knight served as a protector exactly because it could rely on its faster and more vulnerable allies to cover up its deficiencies. Without any backup except for another equally-slow knight mech, they had no chance to salvage their lives.
"It's been a good ride, Barley." Johnson said as his mech failed to parry another sword strike. The attack ruptured half the energy channels that supplied power from the power reactor to the engine. "We should have never underestimated the dirtbags."
"Johnson! No!"
His fellow knight pilot died when the other swordsman mech deliberately ran its sword through the cockpit. Such a move was not considered a war crime, though it did foster further hatred.
"You... stinking... dirtbags!"
Pure rage subsumed Barley's mind. As a hitchhiker, Ves remained a little more detached, but even he became affected by its overpowering influence.
"C'mon, you ghost! Work with me now! Even if I'm going down, I'm going to take all four of these dirtbags with me!"
Ves wordlessly agreed with the original host of their shared body. He lost much of his rationality after being infected by Barley's rage. Now he too wished to harvest the lives of as many dirtbags as possible!
After a moment's thought, Ves came up with the most effective way of accomplishing Barley's dying wish. "Give me control of your hand again. In the meantime, try to last ten more seconds! It's best if you can pull them all forward!"
Barley did this in the most direct fashion possible. He taunted his opponents, who had all started to relax once they realized how easy it was for four of them to take care of a single Domain knight.
"Hey, dirtbags! Why aren't you finishing the job? If you don't come forward now, I'll do this!"
With a callous couple of steps, his Jimenez mech crunched its foot down one of the enemy skirmishers that got taken out in the early stages of the ambush. The cockpit of the light mech didn't stand a chance.
"You'll pay for that!" The lone spearman mech among the group broadcasted as it led the charge. Meanwhile, the other three mechs approached from the sides and he rear, completely boxing Barley in. "This is your end!"
"Wrong! It's yours!' Barley grinned and ejected his cockpit from his mech just before it blew up in a conflagration of heat, flames and electrical discharge.
Since the mech ran on pure energy cells, it was impossible to achieve a massive explosion. Nevertheless, the simultaneous release of all of that energy battered the four complacent attackers severely.
A normal mech pilot wouldn't be able to achieve such a feat, but Ves had spent several hours digging through the guts of the Jimenez, so he knew exactly how to force a worst-case scenario.
As the cockpit flew through the air in a parabolic arc, Barley started to feel drowsy. All of the excess energy in his body left him now that his ability to fight had ceased.
Ves felt a pull on his consciousness. "It looks like my visit has come to an end."
"Before you go... tell me who you are."
"Ves... Ves Larkinson. Sorry for the intrusion. I can't explain how I ended up in your mind. I merely wanted to know how a knight pilot functioned."
"No problem... you helped me out of a hopeless fight. Will I ever see you again?"
"Probably not. I get the feeling this is a one-time deal."
"That's a shame."
Ves stayed silent for a few seconds as he tried to resist the pull calling him back to his own body. "Keep an eye on the Komodo StarSector if it exists in this universe. If everything goes right, you might see me popping up in the news fifty years from now.
"That's a long time ahead. I don't know if I'll survive the war."
"It's up to fate if we can meet again."
Ves uncharacteristically revealed his identity to Barley. It couldn't be helped, as their psyches intertwined so much that they developed an instinctive bond with each other.
Still, Ves got more out of the melding than Barley as the System automatically closed off any portions of his mind that related directly to its existence. Even if Barley questioned how Ves managed to achieve this bond, he would never in his wildest dreams come up with something as miraculous as the Mech Designer System.
"It's the end now. I'm coming home."
"Farewell, Ves!"
"Goodbye, Barley!"
Chapter 250
His consciousness descended back to his body with jarring force. Ves felt as if he rode a shuttle that made a forceful landing on the ground. His head spun like wheels and the entire world felt alien to his own senses.
Ves took a few minutes to recover from his ordeal. His breath shuddered with the aftershock of having his consciousness being pulled back and forth. The human mind wasn't supposed to endure such rigors, and if he hadn't upgraded his mental Attributes, he might have turned into an idiot.
"Heavens, System! Warn me before you pull another stunt like that!"
[The Mech Designer System is not meant to warn the user of any negligence on his part.]
In other words, Ves had only himself to blame.
"Fair enough, but I thought you'd do your usual schtick and dump a library of knowledge in my head."
[Mastery extends beyond pure theory. A mech designer cannot ever claim a Mastery without delving into the perspective of a mech pilot.]
Ves had to admit he benefited hugely from the experience. Even though Barley was nothing special in comparison to other knight pilots, his experience and earnestness in piloting his Jimenez taught Ves a lot.
He underestimated the value of a defensive knight. Lacking in mobility it might be, the Jimenez excelled in its narrow role.
"It almost makes up for the fact that I'm designing an offensive knight rather than a defensive one."
He understood the System's motive in selecting a defensive knight pilot to bond. The name of the Sub-Skill was called Knight Mastery I, and as an introduction to the archetype, Ves first had to master the basic model.
After he checked the logs, he found out he passed out for over half a day. That matched the amount of time he hitch-hiked Barley's head.
Thinking about him compelled Ves to look him up. He went to the galactic net and searched for the Chittering Cicada StarSector.
"It actually exists!"
A further search turned up the existence of the Exilis Domain, which eked out a diminished existence after it lost the war against the Alliance over forty-five years ago.
His hands started to shake as he tried to search up the existence of a Domain pilot called Ivan Barley.
LORD IVAN BARLEY - ACE MECH PILOT - "THE DISCERNING EYE"
MISSING IN ACTION - EIGHT YEARS AGO
A mix of shock, excitement and disappointment ran through his mind. A couple of searches confirmed the battle that Ves experienced alongside Barley happened exactly as he remembered.
The implications were frightening. The seemingly omnipotent System proved its might once again by accomplishing actual time travel!
"It's too bad he's gone missing. It's also incredible he advanced to ace pilot!"
Nothing in his personality or talent suggested he could reach this exalted rank. Ves dug into his history and found out that his momentary presence had been a turning point in Barley's life.
Just as Ves gained a lot of insight into the mind of a mech pilot, so did Barley gain a lot from the perspective of a mech designer. He leveraged his gains by cross-training as a mech technician and then as a mech designer, all for the purpose of improving his ability to discover weak points in the mechs of his opponents!
Barley's skills and kill record rose up like a rocket at the latter stages of the war. By the time he advanced to expert pilot, the Domain finally threw in the towel and signed a humiliating peace treaty.
The heroic feats of a few exceptional pilots like Barley hardly affected the Domain's dire resource shortages. The downside of being surrounded by enemy states was that they could easily intercept their foreign shipments.
After being discharged from the Domain's armed forces, Barley started making his mark in the mercenary circles. That he managed to rise to the point of becoming a certified ace pilot while he worked in the private sector showcased his determination to exceed his failings.
"Barley must have felt guilty for the way the last battle ended up."
The Alliance reached the battle site first. Predictably, they rescue all their friendlies while executing their opponents.
Ves understood how Barley took his knight oath seriously. Not everyone who specialized in piloting knight mechs bought into this culture, but those that did often made for excellent partners.
His lessons from his first experience with Mastery led him to reconsider his phoenix knight's overall premise. Did its draft possess the right concepts to serve its duty as a knight?
"I still believe in an offensive knight." He reaffirmed to himself. "I just need to make some practical adjustments."
With his newly mastered ability to adopt the perspective of a knight pilot, Ves smoothed out many potential wrinkles in his design. Even though they seemed innocuous, a real knight pilot would feel a little bit hobbled by these bumps.
"It's the equivalent of wearing a pair of mismatched shoes. It won't affect your ability to walk, but it constantly nags at you."
He also adjusted his images, particularly the base role of a knight. The infusion of a genuine knight's conviction breathed new life in the stale image's existence. The noble vibes it gave off caused the phoenix and Jackknife Jake's images to raise their guards.
The modified draft of his original design hardly looked any different, but it gave off a completely different vibe.
"Those people raving about Masteries are right. Mech designers think they know more than the pilots they served. What they learn from books and hearsay won't ever match a single first-hand experience."
Ves already enjoyed a lead over many of his competitors due to his Mastery. While it mainly applied to knight mechs, his ability to design the other archetypes improved as well.
When Ves finally left his office, his impatient COO came up to him with a mirthless smile. "Did you make a lot of progress?"
"I've achieved a breakthrough in my development process. The end product should be much more appealing now."
That's great, Ves. Now, before you take the day off, you really need to read through these authorizations and sign them off.
Going over the documents painted an unpleasant picture to Ves. "Expanding the board? Establishing all these committees? That will weaken my grip on my own company!"
"It's true these changes will dilute the concentration of power in your hands, but that's exactly why the Republic mandates these demands. Your company is not just your personal property, not anymore. The livelihoods of hundreds and perhaps more will depend on its performance. The company has the responsibility to provide every stakeholder a voice, not just the shareholders."
"Ah." Ves said flatly. "Good old corporate social responsibility rearing its ugly head again. I thought CSR went out of vogue in the mech industry. It's hard to pretend you care about the poor and the environment when you are literally selling machines of death."
"Well, the Bright Republic is behind the times. Besides, the MTA encourages mech manufacturers to establish a healthy corporate governance structure in their internal hierarchy. There's an inherent risk in letting the founder and lead designer of a company hold all the decision-making power in his hands."
The theory surrounding this subject could fill entire galactic libraries, but the short answer was that even brilliant founders got it wrong from time to time.
That said, ruling a company through committees also had its downsides. They usually prioritized their own interest groups over the overall needs of the company.
For example, a committee staffed by workshop employees never chose to cut back a plant's production lines, even though it had grown outdated and inefficient. Leaving aging equipment running all that time diminished the competitiveness of the company and could even run it into the ground.
Ves feared exactly such an occurrence, so he continuously objected to the measures, though he signed them all in the end.
"The law is the law. Brighten up, Ves. Many other mech manufacturers have adopted these kinds of measures and they haven't gone extinct. Mostly."
"Yeah, but their growth has also turned stagnant as they prioritize stability over risk-taking."
"Is that a bad thing?"
Good question. Ves didn't wish to rehash the same arguments over and over again, so he waved his hand and called it a day.
The next day, his new employees seethed with excitement at the news that the LMC would formally enact committees in its decision-making structure.
Much of it would turn out to be window dressing, but the idea that the lowest workers could have a say succeeded in igniting their passion. They truly felt they took part in something great.
Meanwhile, Ves chewed on the more substantial decision to choose the makeup board of directors.
As the absolute majority shareholder, Ves had the right to appoint whoever he wanted as a board member. He'd elevate Lucky to the chair if he could get away with it. Sadly, the LMC had to be seen as respectable and show some proof to the Republic that some reliable old geezers kept his youthful enthusiasm in line.
His grandfather sent him a list of suggestions. Each of these grey-haired men and women already sat on the boards of a couple of other companies at once. Naturally, none of the companies in their portfolios competed with each other, that would go too far.
"How do these fat cats even keep track of all of the industry-specific data?"
The board only came together a handful times per year, but they somehow earned a salary that an average worker had to toil for decades to earn the same.
"Haha, I see now. It's a scam!"
These serial board members made a career out of their ability to 'advise' and 'supervise' a corporation. It didn't matter if the company produced dog food or mechs, it was all a business to them. As long as they applied their considerable business acumen to the data at hand, they'd be able to give out sage advice for the low price of several millions of credits a year.
His grandfather gave him an earful over the comm when he expressed his opinion.
"Stupid! Do you really think you can make waves without consequence! The Larkinsons have enemies within the Republic that don't mind if your career is cut short!"
"Then why should my company take on these board members?"
"Because they're connected! Each nominee is intrinsically related to a powerful influence on Rittersberg. It's not in the rules and you can't find any of this in a book, but the board members act as the glue that will bind your company tighter to a power faction within the Republic."
So it all came down to politics in the end. Ves thought he could shove those worries to his relations department.
"Okay." Ves replied in resignation. "I'll go over the nominees and take a serious look at their profiles."
"Make sure you do. You're making a major decision here which will profoundly affect the LMC's future course. The quality of the board and the amount of help they provide is directly related to its makeup. If you approach them with your numbskull attitude that they don't have any use except for leeching your company's profits, then you will end up with an unproductive board."
"Okay, okay, I got it already. Cooperation is a two-way street."
What actually ended up happening was that Ves projected the busts of all twenty nominees. He then called over his trusty feline sidekick Lucky.
"C'mon buddy, who do you think has the ugliest face? Go bite his or her head off!"
Ves appointed five respectable men and women who got chewed over last by his pet. All of them turned out to be bastards, but Ves selected the least awful ones through this scientifically proven method.
With that chore done, Ves turned to the real meat in the game. Resuming his original design project.
"I've revised the draft design so its concepts are more compatible with its pilots. Now is the time to substantiate this draft into a functional design."
Chapter 251
Since the design phase required a lot of focus, Ves made sure that the company didn't need his presence for the next couple of weeks. He met with the officers and set a couple of goals.
"The new directors will be installed soon. You'll need to take some time off your project to introduce them to the company. You're wearing the chairman hat as well, Ves."
"I know." Ves replied in a sour tone. "I'll make time, but I trust you can take care of everything else?"
The LMC only offered a single model for sale, so many employees had little to do outside of dealing with the backlog in administration.
"There will always be decisions that you have to sign off on. I'll present them to you weekly if able."
With that taken care of, Ves closed himself in his office and booted up the design suite. It was time to turn an idea into a concrete product.
First, the images. The base received such a substantial boost from Barley's borrowed sentiments that it threatened to break its shackles. It wouldn't be very desirable if the base role gained absolute supremacy.
"Fight, phoenix! Survive! C'mon Jake, you aren't a top mech athlete for nothing!"
Ves distinctively gave the other two images a boost of strength to catch up to the knight. With the timely infusion of energy, the phoenix and Jackknife Jake started taking against the base role portion of the Triple Division Technique.
The battle took place in an abstract realm where imagination and intelligence formed the principal mode of struggle. This enabled the wily Jackknife Jake to take an early lead, having cut a pound of flesh from both the phoenix and the knight at once.
The battle for supremacy tugged back and forth as none of the three images held their advantages for long. Any moment where one image gained a clear advantage, the other two images ganged up on them. The struggle transitioned into a battle of attrition, where momentary bursts of energy occurred less and less as the images began to ration their remaining reserves.
Slowly, the phoenix gained an advantage in this increasingly lengthy standoff. It came down to which side lasted the longest.
The knight possessed a lot of endurance and willpower. As a master of defense, the image relied on its durability to hold out the storm. The only downside was that the knight did not have any means to replenish its reserves once it ran out.
Jackknife Jake typified a top mech athlete in that he treated the battle like a duel. While he started strong from the beginning, his reserves began to flag once it dragged on for a longer stretch of time. Mech duels never lasted longer than half an hour because the audience would get bored by the waiting game. Jake became increasingly more feeble as the attrition dragged down his performance.
It was exactly in these circumstances that the phoenix gained supremacy. It only needed to endure Jackknife Jake's intensive attacks at the beginning. As for the knight, the image acted too defensively to put any significant amount of pressure on the totem animal. By the time the knight realized its mistake, the phoenix already enjoyed a clear superiority.
"The phoenix is unending."
Once its superiority reached a decisive moment, Ves started to feel his brain heating up as the phoenix burst out into fire! A massive inferno swept through his mindscape and swept every corner with cleansing flames!
The phoenix forcibly wiped out everything on the battlefield including its two rivals! Both the knight and Jackknife Jake could do nothing as the flames disintegrated their unique identities and subsumed their purified essences for the victor.
The phoenix had won!
A rich bird cry rang out as the flames turned into a shade of black. The sinister-looking conflagration swirled like a shrinking tornado that concentrated all of the fire into a single, black egg.
Deep, mystical patterns ran throughout the egg, their meaning and purpose unknown. Ves sat rapt with anticipation as he waited for the egg to mature. The patterns seemed to invigorate the egg as it started to grow hotter to the point it burst into the same black flames that formed it in the first place.
This time, the fire seemed more deeper and nuanced than before. The wild, untamed fire had turned into a carefully-controlled mantle that tightly protected the egg as it began to hatch.
The shell cracked quickly. Among the broken shells, a pillar of black flames rose to the heavens as it announced the rebirth of the phoenix.
"The black phoenix!"
It had evidently gained a substantial boost in strength. Its cleansing flames enabled it to absorb the essences of the two other images without risking contamination. The black phoenix only willingly absorbed the best part of its rivals, such as the knight's enduring willpower and Jackknife Jake's devious intelligence.
Stronger and more intelligent than before, the black phoenix seemed to stare at Ves before huffing at him in disdain. It was as if the arrogant bird told him that his mind was an unworthy home for him, and that he should hurry up and finish his design.
"Alright, alright, I'll work on it!"
While the battle took a toll on his mind, Ves gained a lot of inspiration from the vivid imagery. "It's exactly how I envisioned my design."
Neither pure aggression nor pure defense triumphed over endurance. Staying power, longevity and recovery ability granted the phoenix a great amount of superiority in battles of attrition.
"By all accounts, the upcoming Bright-Vesia War will definitely drag on for years. This should be the greatest stage for my black phoenix knight."
With the conflict between the images coming to a close, Ves focused on the victor and channeled it through his work.
He started with the internal frame or the skeleton of his design. Knights usually possessed very robust internal frames, but the thicker the internals, the more it impacted its mobility. It also took up a deceptively large amount of volume, leaving less space for the internal architecture.
Ves faced a dilemma at the very start. Should he utilize a thick internal frame that offered strong defense or a leaner frame that left more potential for mobility?
"An offensive knight should still be able to act like a defensive knight if the situation calls for it. On the other hand, a thicker frame will cripple its playmaking potential by slowing it down too much."
Rather than decide by himself, he closed his eyes and channeled the black phoenix roosting inside his head. The proud imaginary creature squawked and lifted off into the air, circling around the mental representation of the design in his mindscape.
After viewing it with a critical eye, the phoenix released a burning black feather that landed on the design. The feather burned up once it reached the schematic and started to burn away some of the thickness in the internal frame.
Ves got the message. "If that is what you wish."
He could see the rationale for using a thinner frame. The black phoenix depended on its mobility, cunning and amazing endurance to outlast most opponents. Still, it knew when to stand its ground when the situation called for it. The phoenix did not carry over the noble mission of the knight, but it possessed its own peculiar pride.
"It's as if I'm designing a knight for mech pilots who hate piloting knights." He muttered, already foreseeing the controversy his black phoenix knight could ignite. "I would have missed this issue if I declined to purchase a Mastery from the System."
The value of his first Mastery already exerted itself. Ves consciously knew what to look out for if he wanted to deviate from the standard of a defensive knight.
It took an entire day to wrap up his design work on the internal frame. Ves wanted to pursue balance in robustness and mobility. It came down to how much cutting he could get away with. If he thinned a section too much, it risked turning into a twig that might snap at the worst possible moment.
"Let's move on to the internal architecture."
His goals for the internals determined its ultimate structure. Even with a simple frame like a knight, a lot of compromises had to be made in order to form an efficient architecture that could withstand the test of time.
"It has to be tough, it has to be easy to repair, and it also has to possess a high amount of redundancy."
The last priority demanded a lot of clever solutions, because increasing a mech's RF took up a lot of weight and volume. Ves had to keep them down in order to maintain his knight's mobility.
With the generic alloys he licensed from the market, Ves began to draw up his structure according to a specific method. He started with the major pipelines and channels and began to surround them with smaller components. All the while, he sprinkled his growing architecture with features that improved his mech's redundancy and compartmentalization.
The work involved a lot of tedium and repetitive iteration. Time flew by as Ves became absorbed in the problems of the day. He leaned heavily on the Mech Designer System's advanced simulations to produce the most optimal results when his considerable intelligence and creativity failed to provide a solution.
"I'm glad I beefed up my Mathematics and Physics to Journeyman. I'm finally starting to tap into the potential of all those simulations the System has in store."
Even more advanced models awaited his use once he advanced his Mathematics to a transcendent level. For now, Ves made due with the workmanlike models that provided fairly realistic results at the press of a button.
The design work on the architecture dragged on for over four weeks as Ves faced the prospect of running out of space. He could always decide to bulk up the exterior of his mech to accomodate more internal space, but that would ruin his design's entire balance.
Strangely enough, Ves never got bored throughout the entire process. With the fate of his future career hanging in the balance, he worked at peak efficiency throughout the day. Rarely did he need to take a rest due to an overburdened mind. The simplification of his images allowed him to dedicate his focus solely to the proud and relentless black phoenix.
"It's even showing signs of growth."
One of the main goals for his mech had always been the ability to foster growth. The black phoenix happened to be strongly connected to this concept, so it had been easy for Ves to emphasize that aspect. He just didn't expect the growth to start before he finalized the design.
A curious interaction took place as the design choices he made resonated with the image. In turn, the changing phoenix reflected its own desires back at the design. Ves served as the channel and mediator of this faint but clearly noticeable relationship. His role even allowed him to manipulate the interaction to suit his outcomes.
It felt like something unprecedented and profound took place in a plane beyond the material. Something that Ves had birthed out of nothing but his own mental energy took on a life of its own but colored in the perspective of his design. The black phoenix increasingly embodied the design, and the design increasingly echoed the phoenix.
"It's as if they are fated to be together."
In concrete terms, Ves made many design choices that seemed odd and out of place, but started to make sense once he put all the pieces in place. He did not design the most durable knight, but he sure as hell made it tough as bones. In order to increase his design's redundancy, he sacrificed a bit of everything, in particular his energy budget and his armor budget.
"My knight won't be outlasting or outdefending similar models as a consequence."
That sounded fairly... bad. Even with the excellent Veltrex armor system, if Ves did not employ too many layers, his knight would fall apart after a couple of alpha strikes.
"It's a marathon runner, not a sprinter. The endurance is still fairly good, and the repairability has remained excellent throughout the process."
The internal architecture crystallized all of his considerable insights in this area. His extensive development with the Caesar Augustus line taught him many ways to untangle its ungodly internal mess. Added with the fact that he designed a pure knight rather than a hybrid knight, the internals had been shaped into a form that hardly any Apprentice Mech Designer could top.
During his design work on the internals, Ves left out the layout of the artificial musculature. As knights relied on momentum and force to empower their blows, the question of forming the appropriate structure for his musculature could fill entire libraries.
Ves found to his consternation that his Battle Mechatronics Skill left him with an insufficient foundation to design a structure from scratch. Even his Mastery Sub-Skill didn't help that much, because the perspective of a knight only held a narrow perspective on the subject of something as complicated as the muscles of a mech.
"I'm going to need to read a book."
It was a good thing he saved some merits in reserve. It was time to take a break anyway, as Ves pretty much cut himself off from the rest of the universe for a month.
Once he stepped out of his office, he quickly wished he stayed inside. Jake arrived up his doorstep almost immediately with a very important message.
"The newly instated board members are eager to convene the board. If you follow me to the conference room we've set up, you'll be able to meet them and set some high level goals for the LMC. You are working with brilliant minds here. You best take advantage of their expertise."
"Oh joy."
Chapter 252
The conference room projected his grandfather and five other board members in a lifelike fashion. All of them sat at the table with expressions of hope and anticipation.
After the formalities went out of the way, that optimism quickly disappeared as Ves did not approve of their suggestions.
A financial expert began to speak. "Entering the Bentheim market is a daunting venture that has broken many ambitious companies. We're going to need to build up a warchest. Right now, your various assets are tied up in a perplexing manner. There are ways we can leverage this situation to raise a lot of funds."
The man put up a snazzy presentation that entailed issuing stock and piling up debt. All of it sounded great, but Ves wasn't interested in a quick payout.
"I'm open to issuing a limited amount of stock, but I'm not a fan of complicating the ownership structure to this extent." Ves shook his head. "Let's not put the cart before the horse. The LMC isn't short on cash right now. Let me complete my design and figure out how much we have to spend on marketing before we address the need to raise more funds."
The financial expert probably had ties to the very same banks and investment companies willing to get involved. The board member would increase his effective control over the LMC if his buddies held a lot of its equity and debt.
Ves could tell that people had been eyeing some of the exclusive licenses he obtained from the Clifford Society. If he wanted to maintain his advantage, he had to keep the licenses to himself and only to himself.
"Our company is running far below its potential capacity." A woman spoke up next. She turned out to be a product expert. "Many licenses are time-sensitive and it will take who-knows-long until you finish your next design. It's best if we hire more mech designers and expand our catalog of designs."
"I don't wish to dilute my brand with designs that don't adhere to my design philosophy. I'm pursuing quality over quantity so I'm very exacting in the type of mechs I want to sell."
"Then set up a different brand. It's not that difficult to draw a line between your own products and those designed by others. You can continue to pursue perfection while our other crop of mech designers can aim for mass market penetration."
"I'm not open to hiring other mech designers. I founded the LMC to provide a platform to develop and sell my own products. I don't want to provide safe haven for a bunch of losers who can't make it in the mech industry on their own."
Any external mech designer that the company brought on might be using it as a springboard for their own careers. They'd use the licenses and production facilities that Ves had tirelessly accumulated and hop off his train after they achieved commercial success.
Another possibility was that these external mech designers might take over the company's direction. If they developed a lot of designs that collectively earned more, they could diminish the value of his own products.
"What will it take then for you to accept more mech designers?"
"They'll have to work under me for a long period of time. Right now, the only possible candidate is Carlos Shaw."
"I see." The woman replied while looking down at her terminal. "According to the records, he's an able but inexperienced fabricator who is unremarkable in many ways. You can find many competent mech designers off the streets of Bentheim that can do a better job than a former classmate of yours."
"The difference is that I don't trust random bums off the streets even if they can design a bestseller. If they're actually that good, they should have started their own company or find someone else that can sponsor their work. It's not the LMC's goal to promote other mech designers."
After this, a mech industry expert started to tout his connections to Bentheim. "The LMC may have put its roots in Cloudy Curtain, but limiting it to an agricultural planet will severely hinder its growth. Any mech business needs a presence in Bentheim. I can put you in touch with some of the regional powers that can facilitate a deal regarding the foundation of a second site."
Such a second site would likely become the main base of production for the LMC, effectively giving control of a major revenue source to the mech industry expert's buddies.
"A second plant is not in consideration at the moment. Our current production facilities are already capable enough to meet a fair amount of demand. Since I'm in the business of selling premium mechs, I see no immediate need to expand our production capacity for the immediate future."
Ves parried a few more traps couched in helpful suggestions. Once the board members realized that he wouldn't fall for their tricks, the conference meeting shifted into an awkward silence.
His grandfather Benjamin broke the silence by bringing up something that actually sounded constructive, a first for this meeting.
"At the moment, you've signed a contract with a Bentheim mech broker named Marcella Bollinger. I've read through the contract, and while it allows you and your company to outsource all of your sales and support to her, the compensation she demands is uncharacteristically high."
The other board members nodded in agreement. "The standard rate should be ten percent of gross profits. The contract you signed gives her a twenty percent cut."
All of the board members looked at Ves like he got taken advantage of. Which he did, but he needed the extra help.
"The contract is only valid for ten years. We can always renegotiate after the current term ends."
"We can do better." His grandfather added, surprising Ves. "Rather than see it as an exploitative relationship, consider the initial contract as an opening for deeper cooperation. Even if we build up our own marketing capabilities from scratch, we'll never surpass Bollinger's brokerage in terms of understanding the market and finding the best customers."
A few board members disagreed. "I know at least five great marketers who can be persuaded to head a marketing division in Bentheim."
Benjamin shook his head. "It's not worth the effort. Consider the amount of money other mech manufacturers spend on their marketing. It can suck up to a billion credits a day. That's only for the mass-market segment. The premium segments rely more on personal connections to make a sale, something which Bollinger is very adept at. Can we find someone as equally formidable as her in the Bentheim market?"
Someone with so many connections either joined larger organizations or ran their own businesses. Even a medium-sized mech manufacturer didn't enter their eyes.
"What are you getting at, grandfather?"
"The contract can't be breached without a penalty, but it can be renegotiated if both sides are willing to make adjustments. I think it won't be unreasonable to make a demand to lower your mech broker's cut in exchange for a longer partnership. You've grown significantly since you first entered into a deal with her. Your future prospects are worth too much to risk being ditched at the end of a short ten-year contract."
His words sounded persuasive, and some of the other board members expressed approval at the suggestion. On the other hand, the remaining board members thought that the LMC should wait out the nine remaining years and run their own marketing operation from then on.
"Marcella has been very helpful throughout my career and I don't like to spoil that relationship." Ves decided after hearing out some arguments for both sides. "Even if my contract with Marcella ended, I had already been leaning towards renewing it with fairer terms. I guess we can try to push it forward."
It didn't risk much to make the offer. As long as he did well with his first original model, Marcella would have a gold mine in her lap. Thus, her acceptance depended on her estimation of his future performance.
The discussion soon turned to overall strategy. "You've repeatedly made it clear that you are targeting the premium segment. However, there are only so many rich customers in the market. I think it's prudent to evaluate whether it serves the company to offer a cheaper selection of models. Not immediately, but in the medium term."
"The Living Mech Corporation's mission is to bring mechs to life. I can't do that without a minimum standard of quality. I'm not interested in getting into a race to the bottom. Cheaper mechs means I'll have to start cutting corners, which I really hate doing."
The LMC could establish a different brand to take care of that problem, but Ves had already ruled that possibility out. However, the board member suggested another approach.
"I'm not saying the company has to be responsible for the production of these cheaper designs. Your design capabilities are impressive for a young man of your age. I'm sure it won't be a challenge for you to come up with some cheaper variants of your main designs. Once you finish your variants, you can license them out to other mech manufacturers, who will do the rest of the work on our behalf."
"You're suggesting that we engage in outsourcing?"
In the mech industry, outsourcing meant that Ves would offer his designs up for licensing with a very specific set of terms. The companies that bought his licenses had to abide by a number of very strict restrictions and wouldn't be allowed to modify his designs in any way. In exchange, Ves would waive the massive licensing fee, though he did take a larger share of per-unit revenue.
Mech manufacturers in possession of production hardware didn't always have the money to pay for a standard license. Producing mechs on behalf of another company was considered a way to make ends meet by these sorts of companies.
"Even though Ves didn't wish to cheapen his designs by developing severely hamstrung variants, he was open to the idea of offering up purpose-built designs. It would enable his work to penetrate the market and allow his reputation to spread beyond a narrow circle of wealthy customers.
Even if the licensees botched up the production, the LMC could terminate the license and find another manufacturer to do the work. The only issue was that his company earned far less profits than if it did everything in-house.
Then again, Ves had already shot down the possibility of producing any cheap models by themselves.
"The idea holds some promise, but only if the right manufacturers are interested in licensing my designs." He replied after careful contemplation. "Right now, we only offer the Marc Antony Mark II, which is an aging lastgen design that's unsuitable to further cost-saving modifications. Let's wait until I've developed my new design before considering the matter in earnest."
Ves started to understand the appeal of a board. Even if they had no actual decision-making power, they had a vested interest in the company's success. The various experts lent their expertise to the various matters that the company faced.
Still, he didn't delude himself that they worked for the greater good of the company. They only had their own interests at heart.
Overall, their knowledge and ability to think at a higher level made them useful sparring partners. Compared to the company's officers, the directors turned up short in terms of depth, but they made up for it by taking the bigger picture into account.
"If I might suggest something." The mech industry expert spoke again. "Your search for a long-term supplier will not be successful. Even with a moderately successful design, the LMC will always be regarded as a non-entity. Even if you catch the attention of a supplier, it's doubtful they're willing to offer favorable terms."
"The CRO sounded much more optimistic when he informed me of the ongoing search for a supplier."
"Your CRO must be aiming to build a relationship with a distressed or desperate supplier. It's not a good idea to source your materials from a troubled seller."
The expert provided many reasons why it might go wrong. The supplier might have almost tapped out its reserves. It might have engaged in illegal labor practices. It may even serve as a channel for pirates to dispose of their ill-gotten gains.
"Considering the impending war, it's actually best we don't rely on any single source to supply our most critical exotic materials."
"Why is that?"
"Because exotics turn into strategic goods over the course of the war. The Vesians will try to occupy or destroy the Republic's mining operations. They'll also prey on the convoys delivering those materials to the hungry industries it feeds."
That sounded very troubling. "I don't see why relying on the open market is any better."
"Because no matter how the war progresses, the open market will always continue to operate. Don't forget that Bentheim is a port system and that it serves a regional nexus of trade. Some of that traffic will diminish, but not enough to starve the markets entirely out of resources. You won't be dependent on the whims of the Vesians if you can accept the higher costs."
Someone else disagreed. "As long as the LMC insists on leaving out the exclusivity clause, it's free to trade with any other party. I don't see the need to suspend the search for a supplier."
"You can't have your cake and eat it too! You won't find a supplier who is willing to let the LMC retain the right to approach its competitors for business. The LMC isn't producing enough mechs to force a compromise. They'd rather decline a partnership than be taken for fools."
The issue of suppliers had always given Ves a headache, and the directors just made it worse. He banged his fist against the table. "Enough! This is going nowhere. Let me tell you now that I plan to let the relations department continue to find a supplier and attempt to negotiate a mutually beneficial contract. We can convene the board again to discuss whether it's worth it for us to sign it into the books."
Even though the discussion led to nothing substantial, it got Ves to think about what his company would do after the war broke out. He decided to raise the matter to the board.
"As you all know, the Bright Republic and the Vesia Kingdom will likely be embroiled in a serious conflict. I'll likely be drafted by the Mech Corps, and so will some of my employees. How can we prepare the LMC so that it will continue to function during wartime?"
The directors made a number of useful suggestions, starting with his grandfather. "First up, the Republic provides a substantial amount of assistance to mech manufacturers affected by their wartime policies. If your administration is up to task, they should have already prepared the necessary paperwork."
"I'll check up on that after the meeting."
"You should also check with the bank." The financial expert said. "In some cases, they're obliged to freeze or even forgive parts of your debt in the event of war. Also, if the company is bleeding cash, it should be able to demand some compensation from the government, though they may demand some equity in return."
In truth, the government only offered a limited amount of support to failing mech manufacturers. It was content to let the weak ones close their doors while offering only a pittance to most medium mech manufacturers.
"The only way to receive better treatment is by contributing to the war effort." His grandfather added. "The Mech Corps has many needs. The LMC can best serve our fighting force by supplying them with high-quality replacement parts that are difficult to fabricate at military supply bases."
They formed a tentative plan around this suggestion. His grandfather even offered to pull some strings and lay down the groundwork for such collaboration.
At the end of the hours-long meeting, Ves left the conference room with a moderately satisfied expression. He patted Lucky's head once he entered the lounge.
"You did good, buddy. The directors aren't complete bastards."
His cat meowed lazily at him before turning around to resume his nap.
Chapter 253
Ves resumed his work on his design after taking a break. The board meeting led to modest changes but gave everyone a lot of food for thought. One thing that struck him was that everyone pushed for mass production. They didn't believe the LMC could deliver the necessary quality to grow into the high end market.
"They're right, in a way."
He'd have to become a Journeyman Mech Designer to break into the top and most lucrative end of the market. That was still a long way off despite the help of the System.
"My various Skills have reached Journeyman-level, but I'm barely scratching the surface. I'm still short on depth and experience."
Ves vaguely estimated he would have to design at least five or six original models to gain the minimum amount of experience to advance. They also had to be distinctly different mechs, so Ves couldn't get away with designing six identical knight mechs.
"Let's get back to work."
Ves thought about the implications of forming the structure of his artificial musculature from scratch.
"The more experienced mech designers can do this by heart. I haven't reached that level yet, even with the theories I've learned."
In such cases, it would be a shame to consult a reference book and adapt an expertly designed template that had been derived from examples of nature. For example, knight templates often took their inspiration from studying the bodies of athletes and soldiers.
Ves chose to be fairly extravagant by borrowing a high quality reference book from the Clifford Society's Moon Library.
It took a couple of says for the fast courier to deliver the secure materials required to read the book. For a price of ten merits, the Society went out of its way to make sure that Ves didn't propagate its contents.
He didn't spend his time in vain during the wait. He re-read the textbooks on Battle Mechatronics and looked back on his old designs to study the way their musculature worked.
Mechs generally adopted simplified structures compared to a human made out of blood and flesh. In particular, they didn't require so much fine control for their toes, neck and head. Knight mechs also sacrificed a lot of finesse in their arms in favor of brute strength.
"Still, a strong pair of legs forms the basis of a sturdy knight."
Knights relied on the strength of their legs to build up momentum and withstand shocks. They also depended on their legs for balance.
The reference book he borrowed happened to contain a couple of templates for all the different archetypes. After a lot of browsing, Ves chose to go with the lightest knight template.
"It's the most responsive and agile out of all the medium knight templates. It's the only choice that conforms with my vision."
The black phoenix would never sit still like a rock for long. It wished to endure attacks only up to the extent for it to close in on its opponent and take it out.
A lighter musculature that facilitated movement over force enabled this choice of battle. Unfortunately, Ves also had to accept a substantial reduction in arm strength.
"My knight will never match the strength of a purely offensive type like a swordsman mech."
He accepted the compromise, since his mech's substantial defense made up for its lacking offensive prowess. It aimed to outlast its opponents by surviving to the end rather than killing them off first.
Ves made a couple of tweaks to the standard template.
He increased the range of motion of the shield arm to facilitate bashing with the flat or sharp end of the phoenix-emblazoned shield.
He also strengthened the back and abdominal muscles to insure they wouldn't overstain if his mech dug into hardy ground.
His inexperience with designing a musculature led to long nights of continuous work. The black phoenix remained demanding throughout the process, sometimes even forcing Ves to throw away hours worth of development.
The delays resulted in further refinements that provided greater strength without taking up too much space, which was getting very cramped by now.
He sat back in his seat with a satisfied smile after the latest round of modeling pronounced his work to be without any major flaws.
"This is the best I can achieve at the moment."
It helped that he licensed a fairly premium artificial musculature system from the Society. If he licensed a generic one, he would have been forced to bulk up his frame.
Still, the various compromises he made so far made it clear it didn't excel as a damage sponge. "It's leaning a bit too heavily on the offensive side."
Ves intended to use the armor cladding process as a way to correct this imbalance.
Much like the artificial musculature, the application of the armor system also came with a lot of complexity. Many mech designers either used a reference book or modeled the most optimal layout with sophisticated processors.
This time, Ves declined to borrow another reference book. His experience and his Optimization Sub-Skills should be sufficient for him to design an adequate armor layout.
The Veltrex armor system consisted of a minimum of three layers.
The upper layer consisted of various composites that worked best against directed energy weapons.
The middle layer consisted of heavier alloys that specialized in stopping kinetic weapons.
The lower layer mainly dispersed heat and force that went through the other layers. It also worked great in mitigating explosive damage.
The weakness of this armor system became apparent. If an enemy force stripped the upper layer with a ballistic weapon, it could easily penetrate past the middle and lower layers. While their sheer thickness could still mitigate a certain amount of energy damage, it was obviously not ideal.
"I doubt my models will become prolific enough for enemies to know about this weakness."
Despite this wrinkle, the Veltrex armor system could withstand a surprising level of abuse for its thickness.
Some armor systems could be trimmed or thickened by adjusting the amount of layers.
The Veltrex system worked a little differently by adhering to the same three layers, only this time he could adjust the thickness of each of the layers.
Ves spent a lot of time with the fine-tuning of the armor layout. He adopted a fairly standard medium knight layout but trimmed some fat wherever he could get away with it. However, he didn't go too far, as a knight still had to withstand a lot of blows.
"Even if the internals are easier to repair, it's still not a good idea to make it easy to get past the armor."
He took his time in this phase, dragging it out over four weeks as he meticulously verified his design choices with advanced mathematical modeling. From chilly ice planets to desolate asteroids, Ves simulated every possible hostile environment he could come up with. His model performed surprisingly poorly in vacuum and hot environments.
"My mech doesn't generate as much heat as a laser rifleman, so I didn't put too many heatsinks in its design."
This limited its heat processing capacity. The only way his phoenix could shunt its heat was through shunting it from its feet or dissipating it through infrared radiation.
"Isn't it ironic for a phoenix knight to be prone to overheating?"
Ves decided to keep the current amount of heatsinks. Adding any more meant decreasing his mech's performance to an unacceptable level in his eyes. He took the Republic's geography into account as well.
"The Bright Republic doesn't have that many hot planets anyway, and spaceborn mechs are far more suitable to deploy in vacuum environments."
After making sure the armor held up in every other environment, Ves surrendered himself to his artistic fancies. He meticulously carved the upper layer of the armor with phoenix-themed reliefs.
He shaped the generic humanoid face into a phoenix's head. He carved up the shoulder pauldrons into a feather-like appearance. He added minor decorative lines throughout the torso to reinforce its association with blackfire and phoenixes.
The only downside to this 'extra' addition was that the carvings affected the structural integrity of the armor system. Ves had to bulk up many of the sections due to the weaknesses he inadvertedly introduced.
"It's worth it, though. My design looks good, really good."
He already applied a coating of black and gold to his mech. The change in color amplified the connection between the design and the image in his mind. The black phoenix strongly approved of the phoenix knight's impressive appearance. It definitely possessed a strong level of gravitas that he only found in his recent Marcus Aurelius limited edition model.
What particularly stood out from its appearance was its underlying menace. The black coating gave his design a sinister association that Ves didn't see very often in knights.
The Marc Antony Mark II radiated aggression as well, but it always had a noble and flamboyant touch to it. The phoenix knight decried the brave charge, choosing instead to triumph over its opponent through a mix of guile and speed
"This doesn't fit with the knight ethos. Even offensive knights don't go this far."
Fortunately, Ves still had to design its shield and armor. He compensated for the menace by adding a slightly wider shield. He spent over three days perfecting the phoenix wing design on its surface. The asymmetrical look caused by the exaggerated curling wing gave it a distinctly exotic moon-like appearance.
As for the sword, Ves went ahead with designing it as planned. The winged guards and the phoenix body hilt gave the sword a fine touch, but besides that he didn't stray from standard doctrine. Together with the use of generic sword alloys, it was clear the sword would never be able to outshine the shield, which Ves had cladded it entirely with premium Veltrex armor layers.
His mech came into shape after more than three months of design work. The seasons changed and the tension between the Republic and the Kingdom neared the boiling point. Despite the passing of time, Ves hardly noticed any of it as he became subsumed in perfecting his design.
He spent the final weeks subjecting his tentatively functional design through a barrage of tests. Quite often, the simulations revealed a host of flaws in the interaction between the armor and the internals underneath. These flaws hadn't shown up when Ves tested those systems in isolation. Only when he put together every piece in a single package did the flaws come to light.
"This is still rather sloppy for me. It's taken longer to eliminate all these flaws than I thought.
Nevertheless, Ves successfully completed his first iteration of what he temporarily called the Blackbeak.
"Blackwing sounds better, but it's too bad my mech isn't capable of flight."
Perhaps he'd adopt the name for an aerial variant of his design. The base model possessed sufficient space in the back to accomodate a flight system, though he would also have to overhaul the internals to increase its heat-handling capacity.
"That's a problem for later."
Now that he finished a solid design with concrete specs, Ves thought about the next step in his design process.
"I'm going to have to fabricate a prototype and subject it to an extensive amount of gruelling tests."
This went doubly so for knights that specialized in long-term durability. Ves couldn't trust his mathematical models to reflect the actual truth. His design might still hide a small number of critical flaws.
"The thing about models is that they reflect a distorted version of reality. No single model exists so far that can simulate our reality with perfect fidelity."
Even the System's impressive models admitted defeat in this area. For an existence capable of materialization and time travel to express its inferiority in this area, Ves didn't delude himself that he could trust his models blindly.
"First, let's see what the others have to say. They must be brimming with anticipation with what I've been cooking up all these months."
He exited his office, only to encounter a worrying development.
"What's happening?" Ves asked.
"You should check the mech portals." Carlos replied as he passed him a data pad. "One of your competitors is one step ahead of you."
Ves glanced at the news article and found to his surprise that another Apprentice Mech Designer debuted an offensive knight design as his first original mech. Could this be a coincidence?
Then he recognized the designer.
"I know this guy."
Chapter 254
Ves first became exposed to other promising talents at the Young Tigers Exhibition held more than a year ago. Mech designers around his age showcased their talents in order to achieve fame and recognition in the state they called home.
It mostly ended up as a comparison between who had the better foreign backer. Ves performed well at the event, only to be beaten by Edwin McKinney, who for some reason deigned to participate in such a low-class event.
Afterwards, Ves slowly realized that the geniuses who participated in the YTE likely didn't do very well abroad. They were mostly the equivalent to Squires in the Clifford Society, marginal figures that could never compete against the native mech designers of those second-rate states.
"Michael Dumont. It's been a long time since I last saw your name."
After being beaten by Ves, Dumont disappeared from the face of the Republic. Ves assumed that Dumont must have tucked his tail between his legs and fled back to the Coalition or wherever he called his second home.
Evidently, he returned, and just so coincidentally introduced an offensive knight design in his debut as an original mech designer. Ves played a recording of the clip.
"After months of intensive development and extensive testing, I am now ready to announce the release of my first original design, the Havalax!"
A medium mech slowly stepped into view. The reporters gathered at the press conference murmured with excitement as the ground under their feet thundered as Dumont's creation stopped in front of them. With its stylish white coating with triangular blue and orange patterns, it made for a vividly noble sight.
"The Havalax is a knight mech geared for offensive and defensive purposes. It's greatest strength is its speed, which is even able to match the sprinting speed of light mechs. As a fast and mobile knight mech, the Havalax excels in chaotic skirmishes and smaller engagements where battlelines often shift on a whim."
A projection appeared that showed the Havalax's performance in a number of realistic simulations, interspersed with clips of the first production model going through an obstacle course.
What stood out from Ves was that the Havalax showcased an impressive level of performance. So much so that he suspected the pilot must have overheated the mech soon after he completed his acrobatics.
"If you are worried about the Havalax's ability to function as a knight, then let me reassure you that it can take the hits as well as it can dish out. The armor system I am using is an exclusive development from a lab associated with my university in the Coalition. Its multifaceted composition employs a semi-modular arrangement where expended plates will fall after they degrade, facilitating even higher levels of mobility at the tail-end of a fight."
The rest of Dumont's speech detailed his design's strengths while glossing over its weaknesses. Some of the reporters did a good job asking about its endurance, which should have been quite awful for a pure knight design.
"The Havalax is a mech that is designed to make an immediate impact on the battlefield." He repeated. "There are hardly any mechs on the market that can compete with mine in these terms. Not at the price level of my initial models."
"How much will it cost?"
"Production has already started. You can reserve the first hundred copies by moving quickly and pre-ordering it at my company's portal for the generous price of 50 million credits. After that, you can purchase a standard model starting at 55 million credits. We offer many additional options and customizations at additional fees. Please consult the portal for the details."
Ves flipped the data pad and slammed it to the ground. Then he stepped on it with his foot, though he failed to make any cracks. Pads these days served as reliable information carriers under extreme conditions like battlefields and hostile alien planets.
"I don't believe this is a coincidence!"
Just when Ves prepared to debut the Blackbeak, an old rival released an offensive knight on his own. The Havalax differed distinctly from the Blackbeak by specializing in delivering peak performance, but that design choice would also enable it to inflate its spec sheet.
Frankly speaking, the Blackbeak's specs looked like crap compared to the performance that the Havalax was capable of pumping out. Sure, the knight designed by Dumont might only be able to keep running its systems at maximum capacity for a couple of minutes, but most laymen wouldn't know the difference.
In actual fact, the Blackbeak and the Havalax shouldn't even be direct competitors. Despite sharing the same roles, they excelled in different circumstances, so there should be very little overlap
Except Ves knew that many customers didn't think about less flashy criteria like endurance and longevity. They cared more about exciting stuff like top speed or arm strength.
Jake arrived quickly after Carlos. "It's fairly bad news. Early adopters already got their hands on the Havalax and they've been giving them rave reviews. Even some of the more reputable mech portals are giving it a thumbs up."
"How is Dumont able to produce so fast?"
"His backers bought out a failing medium mech manufacturer and repurposed it as Dumont's personal property in the Republic. There's rumors that the Ricklin Corporation has a stake in the company as well."
Figures. Both of them had a beef with Ves. Dumont's entry in the YTE had been cut short by Ves while the Ricklin Corporation suffered a devastating terrorist attack with the help of a mech that he designed and built.
Ves suspected that the Ricklin Corporation had been behind the various attacks on his person. Such threats had ceased to materialize in the last half year, which led Ves to believe the Ricklin Corporation quietly gave up on its attempt to hit back at Ves.
Evidently, they chose to retaliate by a different means. He admired the elegance of their plan. It wasn't illegal to give a helping hand to one of his competitors. Even if everyone in the Republic knew of their conflict, so what?
Right now, Ves was in big trouble. He could already sense an undercurrent of worry and despair among the employees in the office. They all thought that Ves would debut his Blackbeak too late. Even if it offered some redeeming features over the Havalax, demand for offensive knights had already been met by that time.
"Emergency meeting. Two hours from now." Ves said crisply as he stormed back into his office. "Bring everyone that matters."
Jake and Carlos watched the door slide shut. They both looked at each other. "Do you think he's resigned?"
"Not at all." Carlos replied. "That's his serious mode. Ves almost never makes an outburst. He's the type who lets his rage boil inside his mind. Don't let his flat face fool you."
Two hours later, the entire management team of the LMC poured into the conference room. The executives and pillars of the company like Jake, Primrose, Carlos, Calsie and Gavin sat alongside the oval table.
The rest seated themselves upon floating synthetic foldable chairs stored underneath the table. The 'planks' as people called them provided basic seating for everyone without taking up a lot of space when they returned to their storage compartments.
Ves stomped into the conference room a few minutes later. He slowly paced towards the front of the room and turned on the main projector. A full-throated projection of his first complete iteration of the Blackbeak appeared in front of everyone's eyes.
"This is the Blackbeak. It's a premium offensive knight that excels in endurance, longevity and energy efficiency."
He summarized its various attributes and emphasized its differences compared to a model like the Havalax. Still, half the crowd stopped paying attention to his words, because the mere sight of the Blackbeak consumed all of their attention.
Its sheer presence and artistic appearance dwarfed anything Ves designed before except for his most impressive limited edition designs. The sinister flavor underpinning the Blackbeak's X-Factor evoked both fear and admiration from the gawking crowd.
As Ves had been tinkering with his design for months, he'd grown used to its aura. He didn't expect it to have such a pronounced effect on his employees.
"Wow, Ves! Wow!" Carlos exclaimed. "If this is what you've been working on, then Dumont stands no chance!"
Several people agreed, but those who read through the Blackbeak's spec sheet quietly shook their heads.
"I have confidence in my design." Ves declared simply. It was important to emphasize his belief in his own capabilities. "However, that doesn't mean that it's a given that the Havalax can be dethroned. The first-mover advantage is a very powerful thing to have. The main issue is that over target segments overlap too much. The longer we wait, the steeper the hill we have to climb."
"Then what are we waiting for? You've already completed your design, so let's release it immediately while the Havalax is at its infancy!"
Ves shook his head. "I won't rush my design. I've thought it through, and the risk of missing out a critical flaw or two is too great. I can tell that the Havalax is a fairly rushed design as well. Dumont must have designed it when he received word that I had been planning to design an offensive knight myself."
Some people looked at each other with suspicion. "This was supposed to be kept under wraps. Someone leaked the news."
A brief argument broke out, but Ves forestalled any further shouting.
"Shut up! I haven't exactly done my best to keep my intentions secret. It's my own fault for letting too many people know. The important thing is that it's already done, so let's move on. As I was saying, the Blackbeak's development will stay on track. I will not rush its development just because a competitor is taunting me to hurry up."
"Why not?"
"Because the LMC stands for quality. It's in our mission statement. It will be a direct betrayal of the founding principles of this company if I set them aside at the first sign of trouble."
That said, in corporate warfare, expediency usually triumphed over principle. Ves merely believed he didn't have to go that far in order to turn the tables against Michael Dumont.
"Do you believe in our company?" He asked his employees.
"Yes!"
"We believe!"
"Do you believe in the Blackbeak?"
Everyone resoundly cheered.
"Then what's with all of the panic? We are better than Dumont!"
He succeeded in lifting up their moods. It felt good to inspire confidence in his workers. He needed them to work at their best in order to stand a chance against Dumont's well-funded vendetta against Ves.
As long as he could persuade his men, Ves also had a chance of winning over the market. They just had to remain rational and lay out the facts.
"It's important to note that offensive knight designs already exist on the market. Hundreds of thousands of designs already exist throughout the galaxy, though only a fraction is available for purchase within the Republic's borders. Likewise, demand for offensive knights is not a shallow pool that will drain quickly the moment someone cobbles up a decent design."
The threat the Havalax posed to their company distorted everyone's perspective on the market.
"I see now! We've been stuck in tunnel vision!"
"The Havalax is still a competitor though. As long as it remains on sale, it will directly affect our own profits."
"We can still fight back when there's still time."
How much time did they still have? Ves wanted to take his time, but would all of that extra time pay off in the end? It all depended on their hard work and ability to succeed under adverse circumstances.
Ves clapped his hands to draw everyone's attention. "I've gathered you all here not to admit defeat, but to form a plan of action. We will not let Dumont have his satisfaction! We shouldn't fear his competition. He should fear us instead!"
He had unquestioning faith in the superiority of his own design. Ves hardly believed that Dumont progressed as fast as him since the last time they dueled against each other.
Along with the added advantage of a pronounced X-Factor, Ves possessed a final contingency should his design fail to match up to the Havalax. He tapped his fingers against his unassuming comm, which hid the option to super-publish any design once a year.
Chapter 255
In truth, Ves didn't wish to resort to the super-publish option, as he considered it a cheat. Besides sullying his reputation and demeaning the tradition, he wouldn't be able to get away with it anyway.
He already shared his development logs to the MTA. if Ves suddenly improved his design by a significant margin at the very end, the MTA would rightly question whether he had help.
"Let's form a plan and draw up a time table." He announced to the people gathered in the conference room. "I think it's not too late to release my latest model a month from now. It's impossible for Dumont's company to have produced so many mechs in that span of time."
They hashed out a quick plan that mobilized the entire company.
Even though the Blackbeak hadn't been finished yet, its functional state allowed the workshop to grow familiar with its design. Chief Cyril and Carlos received permission to train the mech technicians with practicing its fabrication in a virtual environment.
Meanwhile administration and relations departments laid the groundwork for logistics. Ves wanted the LMC to be amply supplied without being overcharged for the necessary raw materials. He also wanted the shipping to be reserved in advance in order to minimize delays and disruption in supplies.
"The current convoys between Cloudy Curtain and Bentheim won't suffice for our needs." Jake reported after making a projection on how many goods flowed in and out of the workshop. "The Barracuda has lately remained rather idle. Other than conveying some of our executives to Bentheim and back, the corvette is severely underutilized."
"Any shipments we make outside a convoy isn't insured by Sanyal-Ablin." Ves shook his head. "I don't want to tempt fate by putting millions of credits worth of goods in an even more expensive starship. The Barracuda will adhere to the current flight schedule. It won't attract so much attention if all it does is ship some of our marketing people back and forth. On that topic, how is the negotiation going with Marcella?"
"We've been making slow but steady progress in our discussions with your mech broker. From what we can tell, she values your ability to improve and thinks your worth will only increase in the future. Our negotiating team has been able to leverage this information into compelling her to agree to a number of important concessions. However, our talks have stalled lately due to the lack of activity on our part."
Ves already knew why. "She's waiting for my design, I bet. Once I fabricate the prototype of the Blackbeak, I'll ship it over to Bentheim in order to take advantage of their extensive testing facilities. The MTA's Cloudy Curtain branch office lacks the hardware to put the prototype to its paces."
A few people showed alarm at his decision to do the testing in Bentheim.
"The port system is a powder keg waiting to blow!" Primrose warned with a shrill voice. "It's highly inadvisable to step foot on the planet with war tensions so high!"
"There's no other choice. I can't do without the sophisticated testing equipment that is only available on major planets like Bentheim. Don't worry, I've got Raella, Melkor and Sanyal-Ablin watching my back."
"We're also permitted to pilot our own mechs within city limits!" Raella raised her fist in excitement. "If the BLM wants to pick a fight, I'll gladly give them one!"
Once they finished their testing, Ves would return to Cloudy Curtain and apply the lessons on his initial design.
"Do we have enough time for another round of testing?"
"Likely not. There's a lengthy lead time required to submit an original design to the MTA. If we want to make the Blackbeak ready for sale in a month, we have to submit the final version along with a fabricated copy to the MTA's branch in Bentheim at least two weeks before the official release."
So in essence, Ves actually had three weeks to work with before he had to finalize his design. "We can't afford to undergo a second round of testing. We can only hope that one round will be enough to catch all the major flaws. Marketing, once I show off the prototype to Marcella, please work together with her brokerage on a marketing campaign. Make sure to take various budgets into account."
A simple plan made all the difference. Getting his people moving again helped push back the negative sentiment. Everyone dispersed and went back to work. Ves himself took some time off. He wanted to be in his best condition before he fabricated the prototype.
Lucky meowed and climbed on his shoulder once he sank into a couch at the lounge. The cat didn't experience much excitement with Ves holed up in his office. His pet made his disaffection clear by batting his paw against his cheek.
"I know, I know, you'll get your fun soon. We'll be traveling to Bentheim again after a few days."
"Meow!"
Ves thought about picking something up at Bentheim that could keep Lucky busy. Then again, the amount of minerals his cat had eaten so far had reached a point where Lucky showed signs of evolving yet again. The glowing blue lines between its shiny bronze-like exterior glowed as bright as a flood lamp.
"You're stuffed with energy, aren't you?"
"Meorrww." Lucky lazily stretched his back.
"I wonder what you'll look like at level 3."
As Ves advanced, so did Lucky. It made him wonder what his cat had in store in the future. Perhaps he'd be able to traverse the stars, or fire a mech-grade laser from his mouth. Maybe he'll be producing gemstones that could double the performance of any mech.
He began to fabricate the prototype the next day. He skipped practicing the process in a simulation because he was short on time. Instead, he relied on his substantial fabrication skills to tide him over his very first attempt to bring the Blackbeak to life.
Chief Cyril gestured everyone away. "Everyone, clear out! The boss will be working on the prototype alone!"
Due to everyone's unfamiliarity with the new design, Ves demanded full control over the entire fabrication process. Only if he did everything himself would he be able to guarantee the quality of his prototype. It was vitally important that this early copy of the Blackbeak be a faithful reflection of its design.
Every mech technician halted their work and cleared their junk. The new production line stood ready to be used. Ves took a deep breath and centered his mind onto his continuously evolving image.
He opened his eyes, revealing a flickering glint in his eyes. "Let's make you whole."
Ves moved his fingers over the console of the Dortmund printer. He started working from the inside out, fabricating the innermost pieces first before working his way outwards.
The technical challenge lay mostly in his unfamiliarity with the process. He also worked with unfamiliar materials and entirely new alloys that sometimes strained his capability to solve problems on the fly.
"Still, the greatest advantage of designing a mech from scratch is that you have complete control over its complexity."
A hybrid knight like the Caesar Augustus possessed a lot of interconnected components that made a mess of things inside. Even if he substantially simplified its internal architecture in the Mark II, it still posed a lot of difficulties.
On the other hand, a pure knight with a narrow set of priorities carried a lot less baggage around. Ves prioritized on designing a simple, clean and easy-to-assemble internal architecture because he intended the Blackbeak to be repaired and worked on over many years in the field.
"Easier to repair also makes it easier to assemble."
He only encountered some genuine challenges when he formed the armor plates. Each of the three Veltrex layers centered around their own mix of highly valuable exotic minerals that might react unstable if handled improperly. Even with his Alloy Compression III sub-skill, Ves came across various close calls that could have been avoided if he practiced beforehand.
"I can't afford the time to take a trial run. I'm already in the race and there's no way but to proceed!"
The time pressure actually emboldened Ves to put his full effort in his work. The black phoenix also thrived in a crisis and became more active and engaged as the fabrication went on. The two synergised with each other and Ves started adding intuitive touches in his work at the prompting of the picky image in his head.
After his first slip-ups, Ves got the hang of working with each different formula. He smoothly applied the correct adjustments to the chemical treatment machine and the alloy compressor to ensure a near-perfect finish for each of the plates.
The most difficult work by far was adding all of the flourishes onto the top layers. Ves had to put the pieces back inside the Dortmund in order to utilize its precision carving module to neatly trace out the decorative flourishes. One wrong move risked threatening the structural integrity of the entire layer, turning it from an effective piece of armor into a clunky alloy plate.
"I definitely can't add something so elaborate in my silver label version of the Blackbeak." Ves concluded. "Anyone who's Assembly Skill is below the standard of a Journeyman can forget about doing this without leaving flaws."
The added difficulty of incorporating these engravings raised the value of his design. Ves put a lot of creative energy in their formation, granting them meaning beyond conveying a simple image. Ves even imagined the black phoenix blessing them with its own touch of vital energy.
"It's like they're acting as reservoirs for the X-Factor or some other kind of metaphysical energy."
By the time he finished decorative engravings, they appeared to glow in his sixth sense. The entire mech turned into something more than a simple machine by the time he started assembling the pieces into place.
His consciously simple design allowed him to assemble the various parts with greater speed and ease than with a hybrid knight. The Blackbeak hardly made a croak as its parts smoothly fit into place with the judicious use of bots.
"It's like magic." Carlos sighed as he compared the exquisite craftsmanship displayed by Ves with his own output. "How is Ves able to make his products with so much presence? The mech isn't even finished yet, but I can already tell it will be an exceptional work!"
Cyril chewed on a piece of stimulants as he formed a reply. "I've seen jobs like this a couple of times in my life. They're made by craftsmen in the best sense of that word. They are passionate about their work and treat every individual mech like a seperate art piece. You can tell that Ves is made from the same mold by the intensity of his focus. It's like we're not even here."
Even their low discussion didn't affect the meticulous work that went into fitting the more delicate pieces into their assigned positions. Once Ves attached the finished sword and shield to the back, the prototype officially came into being.
The black phoenix in his mind cried out triumphantly and spread its wings. It was just about to depart from his mind and enter the almost-finished Blackbeak's design, but Ves held the stubborn bird in place.
"It's not finished yet! Stay put!"
The phoenix took offense at his demand and tried to burst through the shackles holding it down. Ves cried out in pain and held his thundering head in his hands. His sudden collapse alarmed the mech technicians.
"He's exhausted. He hardly took a rest over these three days!"
"Call a medic from the security group! They have one on-site, I'm sure of it!"
None of them suspected that Ves was waging a battle in his mind. The black phoenix he birthed into being had developed a life of its own. Like any child growing up, it sometimes tried to defy its progenitor. In other words, the black phoenix reached the point where it started to assert its own identity.
"It's not time yet!" He yelled, to the confusion of the worried technicians. "Stop your stupid tantrum and get back inside!"
Chapter 256
His condition became so fierce that the medic hauled him to the tiny clinic set near the walls surrounding the workshop. By the time Ves recovered, he found out that everyone thought he collapsed from overwork.
"You worked for three days straight! Even with your abnormal body characteristics, humans are never meant to stay up for such a massive stretch at a time!"
"I'm okay doc. I'll be fine after a good night's sleep." Ves waved away their concerns and hopped off the cot as spry as an energetic child. "Let me see the prototype before I sign off."
He left the clinic and walked across the open courtyard to the workshop area. Once inside, he waltzed towards the other end of the hall where a crowd of bewitched employees gazed admiringly at the very first version of the Blackbeak.
"It's beautiful, and it's not yet even complete."
The blackbeak's dark coating gave the mech the illusion of an obsidian statue. The detailed carvings concentrated on its beak, its shoulder pauldrons and its symbol-laden armaments lent the prototype an air of gravitas.
"Well, you certainly did it." Chief Cyril slapped his back when Ves approached. "The Mark II is like a toy compared to this beast."
On the other hand, Jake looked a bit concerned. "I'm not so sure it will find its place in the market. It looks almost evil compared to your previous works, Ves. I don't know where you got your inspiration, but as it stands now, your design looks more fit for pirates than for mercs."
Ves belatedly realized that this might become a problem. "It will look better once the festive cloud generators underneath the shoulder pauldrons turn online. I've programmed them to emit some bright white vapor aided by some conveniently placed lights to add some life to my mech."
A knight was supposed to be a protector, a team player. Unlike the Havalax, the Blackbeak boldly bucked that stereotype by taking on an aggressive but subversive appearance. It won by staying alive, and it did so through a mix of grit and dirty tricks.
He decided to stick with its current appearance due to that reason. Dumont's Havalax could keep the white knights while the Blackbeak appealed more to the shadier crowd.
"Let's prepare for departure."
On matters as important as the shipment of a prototype, Ves didn't want to take a risks. He booked a berth at the next convoy shipment to Bentheim for the prototype and the mechs of his cousins. He also called ahead to Sanyal-Ablin to make the appropriate arrangements for his security detail on Bentheim.
A lot of prep work went into their upcoming visit. With the growth of the company, the LMC had to comply with a lot more regulations as well as take a lot of industry-specific standards into account.
The introduction of an entirely new design demanded even more compliance compared to variants. An incompetent designer could take an unknown mix of components and mix them together into a powder keg that could blow at any time
The MTA took no risks with regards to potential hazards to public safety. It was up to the mech designer to prove his new design was safe to use.
On the day of the transfer, a couple of executives from the LMC accompanied Ves and his entourage aboard the Barracuda. This time, the corvette joined the slow and lumbering convoy for safety purposes and to ensure their shipment of mechs remained safe.
As a luxury yacht, the Barracuda easily accommodated the extra passengers, though the executives had to bunk up in their cramped rooms. It elicited a lot of grumbling from the likes of Jake, Primrose and the people who originally came from Bentheim.
"Sorry guys. It's a small ship so you'll just have to make do." Ves apologized before turning to Captain Silvestra. "How's the Barracuda holding up these last few months?"
"The regular exercise has been great, sir!" The captain reported with a smile. "It's good to stretch our legs by conveying your people back and forth. The frequent travel allows us to become intimately familiar with the gravitic geography between Cloudy Curtain and Bentheim. As long as we can keep this up for half a year, we'll be able to develop a fairly complete chart that will allow us to develop fast and circuitous FTL routes."
"What does that mean?"
"It means we'll stand a higher chance of avoiding blockades and ambushes if the Bentheim System is taken over by the Vesians."
"The Vesians have never pushed as far as Bentheim before. The Republic always fights tooth and nail the closer they get. We can't afford to lose our only port system."
"Be that as it may, sir, it's best to be prepared should the worst come to pass."
The prospect of a disastrous occupation of Bentheim weighed down in his mind. Even though the Vesians always failed to take the prosperous system in the end, it only took a couple of random mishaps for them to succeed.
Besides preparing for the release of a new design, the LMC also had to prepare for the inevitable war. That meant talking with the government, the suppliers, the security companies, the insurance companies and more.
"Do we have to bring so many people?" Ves quietly asked Jake.
As his COO, the Larkinson retainer had been very bold in expanding the company's payroll. "We're making a lot of appointments because our company hasn't made any existing arrangements against various contingencies. It's fine if you want to leave it for later, but once the war finally sets off, it's going to be a lot harder to get a hold of important people."
The LMC already entered into half-a-dozen agreements so far that granted them access to military convoys and strategic resource stockpiles.
Ves had to admit it sounded like a good idea to be prepared. He hadn't even heard of half the programs in the list that Jake passed to him. "I see there are limits to how much insurance is willing to cover us."
"The entire Bentheim region is beset by difficulties in obtaining insurance now that the war is on the horizon. In the eyes of the insurance companies, Cloudy Curtain is even less secure than Bentheim, as our only real defense force consists of a single gang. The Vesians don't have to allocate too many mechs to destroy all our infrastructure."
Implicitly, Jake questioned the need to base their production facilities on a poorly defended rural planet. Ves ignored those unspoken thoughts.
"Is it unusual for the insurance companies to close up like that for our region before a war breaks out?"
"It happened a handful of times throughout the last two centuries. It's a rough indicator on how bad the war might progress. The insurance industry is especially spooked by all the pirates and rebels running roughshod over the Komodo StarSector."
That gave Ves a lot of food for thought. He spent his remaining time on his ship reading up on the various preparations the company had been cooking up. They even formed an agreement with Walter's Whalers to ship out their most expensive production equipment off-planet if the Republic failed to contain the Vesians!
The convoy touched down upon Bentheim more than two days later. They'd been delayed by additional security checks and the requirement to adhere to the speed of the slowest transports.
A guarded planetary transport waited for them at the spaceport. Loaders carefully transferred the prototype in the cargo bay while Melkor and Raella entered their mechs. Ves didn't expect any trouble, but it didn't hurt to be prepared. He also carried Lucky on his shoulders as an increasingly familiar custom.
Jake and a handful of mech technicians and aides accompanied Ves in an armored shuttle. His COO presented him with a secure data pad of the revised agreement between the LMC and Marcella's brokerage.
The entire contract looked awfully dense and Ves was not in the mood to decipher them. "I don't have time to read through these terms. Give me a summary."
"We've pretty much come to an agreement on this set of terms. Mrs. Bollinger is willing to accept a reduced commission of ten percent of gross profits for any product released after signing this agreement. In exchange, we'll assume responsibility for most forms of mass marketing as well as after-sales support. The latter change is a very impactful one."
"How so?"
"Mechs often get damaged, so they often need to be repaired as well. In extreme cases, the total cost of repairs have even exceeded the cost to buy a new mech, so you can imagine the potential earnings of this industry. Sometimes an outfit wants to modify a mech or add more armaments, and that takes a substantial amount of money as well."
"I see now. From the tone of your voice, you don't sound that optimistic. Marcella wouldn't have given us this concession without reason."
"Unless we grow large enough to form our own repair company, it's best to form a contract with an existing repair business on Bentheim. That means we have to form a branch office and hire some liaisons who can keep an eye on them. You don't want the repair companies to work without supervision. They'll rip you off in a thousand different ways if they think they can get away with it. Even a solid contract won't help that much."
"So they're as shady as salvage outfits."
"If you think about it, they're two sides of the same coin."
It turned out that the repair industry was plagued with a lot of fraud and pitfalls. A poorly managed repair scheme could easily pile the Bentheim division with a mountain of debt. Frankly, Ves admired Marcella for conducting after-sales support in his stead up to this point.
The entire agreement also hinged on Marcella's approval of his new design. Ves had managed to keep it under wraps so far. He wanted to achieve the maximum possible impact for her first impression, so he didn't even send along any documents.
The armed procession of transports, shuttles and mechs traversed away from Dorum and neared the mech hub of Ansel, which previously hosted the Vintage Festival. This time, they skipped the exhibition center and instead arrived at the doorsteps of the Ansel Precision Mech Testing Grounds, or APMTG.
"Mr. Larkinson! Welcome to the APMTG!" A sharply-dressed young man shouted over all the thruster noise. The representative of the testing grounds greeted their arrival with a handshake and a smile. "Follow me to the labs! Our testing personnel has already prepared for the arrival of your new design!"
Ves looked upwards at the transport that carried his mech. "What about my prototype?"
"We're prepping our secure hangar for spying equipment before we allow your prototype to be transferred in our hands. At the APMTG, we take confidentiality as our highest priority! Our state of the art security systems is able to deter almost any spying methods known to the Komodo StarSector!"
"APMTG is a mouthful."
"Just call us the testing grounds!"
Once they stepped inside, they entered a control room that overlooked an empty hall. A duty manager greeted them and showed Ves around. "This is our first testing chamber, where we will be measuring the basic parameters of your mech in order to get a baseline. This is not to say we believe your product is defective!"
Ves nodded. "I understand. Before you push my mech to the limit, you need to determine if the mech isn't already wrong from the start. It also helps calibrate your subsequent tests."
"Ah, thank you for your understanding. Do you have a background in testing mechs?"
"I know a thing or two about salvaging them, which does some of the same stuff you do."
That could be construed as an insult, as the salvage industry was well known for cutting corners. Fortunately, the duty manager didn't take any offense.
"Well, our testing process adheres to industry standards and is much more exacting than what can be achieved in the frontier."
They better be, because Ves paid over ten million credits for this service. He could get away with less if he took his prototype to the MTA, but it turned out that they had a waiting list over two months long.
At least the testing grounds performed a greater variety of tests, so Ves expected to get his money's worth.
"I can't wait to see how my prototype will perform."
As they waited for the prototype to be brought from the hangar to the testing chamber, Marcella arrived with a faux-angry face.
"The nerve of you!" She slapped his back with her artificial limb, only to be surprised by his ability to remain unfazed. "Well, I forgot you went through that ordeal in the frontier. You've grown some balls recently."
"Hey, we can always stick to the current contract."
"And risk letting you get away? No way! You're the goose who lays the golden eggs!" Marcella firmly shook her head. "Ves, even if your early work resembles dog turds, you've been getting better and better with each new model. Your progress is especially pronounced when you track the quality of your virtual models."
Since they basically fixed all of the terms of their revised contract, Marcella didn't feel any need to hold back her opinion. Ves got the sense that Marcella deliberately sang praises to make a better impression. It glossed over the fact that a mech broker like her more often posed as a ruthless shark.
They made small-talk while the testing grounds conveyed the prototype. Fifteen minutes later, the early version of the Blackbeak stood at the center of the testing chamber.
Everyone dropped their conversation and stared at its alluringly sinister frame in shock. His hand-crafted models always had that effect on those who saw his products for the first time, but even Marcella dropped her metaphorical jaw.
Eventually, she laughed. "When I heard you finally started working on your first original design, I didn't expect a monster! This is one of the most impressive designs I've ever seen, appearance wise alone! I'm tempted to sign the new contract right now!"
The testing grounds proceeded with their first tests once a test pilot boarded the Blackbeak's cockpit.
Chapter 257
The mech pilot proceeded to tread carefully in activating the mech. Ves noticed plenty of bots hovering at the sides of the chamber. They carried a number of emergency equipment such as fire suppressants and isolation materials should his mech start to malfunction.
Fortunately, the Blackbeak turned online as smooth as flowing water. The testing chamber's sensors and the diagnostics conveyed by the mech's internals conveyed no red flags. For now.
"All systems look green! Minor deviances have been reported with the power reactor. They are well within tolerances!"
Ves had a lot of confidence nothing would go wrong at the start. He meticulously checked the quality of his own work as he assembled it piece by piece. Still, he felt excited to see his hard work pay off by delivering a near-flawless performance.
The testing grounds performed a rigorous amount of testing in the empty chamber. The test pilot started making simple but meaningful moves. This could be something as simple as leaning forward or backwards, or as complex as balancing on one leg while extending out the remaining limbs.
That last move caused Ves to wince. The Blackbeak's leg had not been rated to handle all of that weight for long stretches of time. Still, his mech performed like a champ, taking the escalating levels of stress in stride. By the time the mech ran at full sprint while swinging its sword and shield back and forth, Ves relaxed enough to chat with the people from the testing ground.
"How large is the testing ground?"
"Oh, we have over twenty testing chambers and more than forty outdoor grounds and obstacle courses. Many of them are duplicates as we are constantly testing new designs. Our state-of-the-art equipment and galaxy-leading methodologies are praised by everyone in Bentheim. We frequently receive the most confidential test models from various famous Journeyman Mech Designers."
Interspersed between the somewhat exaggerated marketing speech, the people of the testing grounds revealed a genuine passion of getting their hands on the latest toys in the Republic first. The truly prestigious mech designers sometimes sent out a batch of half-a-dozen mechs for the testing grounds to wreck while gathering as much data as possible.
"You guys must be wrecking a lot of mechs!"
"Oh, it's not that bad. Any destruction is always carefully controlled in a way the remnants can be fully salvaged."
Once they finished the basic tests, the testing grounds moved the prototype to a second chamber. This one contained various mech-sized dummies and obstacles for the Blackbeak to sink its teeth in. Ves even recognized some cheap exotic alloys that must have been salvaged and reforged a couple of hundred times.
The mech pilot slowly moved to attack a basic target made out of wood. The flimsy material split like paper, hardly putting up an obstacle against the alloys built into the sword.
That soon changed as the pilot started swinging the sword against a progression of increasingly formidable materials. Ves sighed in relief once they went through the final plate of armor, which mimicked the toughness of a medium knight's chest armor.
"The sword has largely held up."
Certainly, it wouldn't be a good sword if it became chipped or blunted after tearing through the armor of a couple of mechs. Still, even the strongest swords could snap like a twig if wielded by an incompetent pilot.
The testing grounds spent the next ten days subjecting the prototype to a variety of conditions.
They ran the mech through an obstacle course until it ran out of fuel.
They subjected it to a hellishly hot chamber before dropping the temperature to below freezing point.
They overloaded the internals to see how much mileage the prototype could extract out of that extra power, but they quickly had to halt their attempts. The mech reached the point of irreversible damage too rapidly to continue this particular test.
Most of the time, the tests consisted of hour-long sojourns into waiting for a component to reach its breaking point. The testing grounds left the more destructive tests at the very end, where they finally placed the mech in front of a couple of turrets and fired at it with sadistic glee.
"The toughness of your mech's exterior is really good!" The same duty manager praised. "What a great armor system! Its compartmentalization isn't too shabby as well."
"The Blackbeak is still a knight. It's designed to take a beating."
The one thing they couldn't test was how easy they could repair it back to full. Ves lacked the time to go through such a round and the testing ground demanded a substantial price for such a service.
During his ten-day stay at the testing grounds, he found it remarkable how far they went to keep their confidentiality.
The same crop of testing personnel manned the consoles and performed the testing. The various testing facilities had been carefully screened, and even the outdoor grounds had been fenced in by obscuring electric screens.
Alongside isolation, the testing grounds also employed a mix of active security that actively swept the grounds for spying devices and unwanted visitors. Considering the clout of their regular customers, such precautions were definitely needed!
"I must say, it's a pleasure to test your first original mech!" The representative gushed as he accompanied Ves to the shuttle pad. "Yours is one of the most aesthetically pleasing debut designs I've ever had the pleasure of seeing on our grounds!"
"Thanks for letting me witness the entire process. It always hurts to see your own creation get hurt, but I've learned just as much from my observations as I've had from the data you've compiled."
"It's our pleasure to serve you. We don't often see mech designers possess as much passion for the craft as you, to the point where you've stuck with us for the entire ten-day stretch!"
That inadvertently told Ves a lot about how the well-to-do mech designers treated their own creations. He gently shook his head. How far would he go before he started to treat his mechs as commodities as well?
"Well, I'm very satisfied with your services." Ves thanked the representative as he reached his shuttle. "I'll think about bringing my next designs to you whenever I come up with something new!"
"You're welcome, Mr. Larkinson. The APMTG always stands ready to find the limits of your mechs!"
While the pieces of the prototype would be shipped back to Cloudy Curtain, Ves had to make one more stop. Marcella left after the first couple of hours since the testing began, but she regularly kept tabs on the results by remote. By now, she must have gathered enough data to prove that the Blackbeak was a solid design.
"It's too bad your Blackbeak doesn't perform that well in certain extreme conditions." Jake commented to him. "Knights have always shown historically poor performance in hot and vacuum environments, but your model is particularly bad at it. That may not be a problem in the Republic's market, but it will be a greater hindrance should you decide to publish it beyond our borders."
"I'm not considering any expansions beyond the border at this point. Even if I do, I'll likely develop a cold-weather variant instead."
"Don't go overboard on developing variants for your own products. If there's a viable need, other mech designers will license your design."
"That sounds fairly unlikely." Ves replied. "I'm merely an Apprentice Mech Designer, and my design is being published at the tail end of the current generation."
"True. Most mech designers have already given up on the current generation and are waiting for the next one to arrive."
They had a fascinating discussion about what mech designers did to stay in business during these trying times. The more established entrepreneurs could easily sit back and rely on their existing catalog to generate a steady income. Newcomers had it more difficult.
Once they arrived at Marcella's brokerage, they went up to her office where she awaited his arrival. "Ves, please take a seat. We have important decisions to make."
"So what did you think about my prototype?" Ves asked as he dropped Lucky to the floor to run around while he took the center seat. Jake took the seat next to him and brought up a data pad that displayed the revised contract their negotiators hammered out.
"I have to admit, I'm impressed." The mech broker said. "I didn't think you'd be able to exceed the quality of your most recent products. Out of all of the products I've worked with, none possess as much magic as yours."
"Don't forget about its performance. I've worked hard and risked my life to acquire a set of high-quality component licenses. My mech's performance is on par with other current gen models that are priced around 60 million credits."
"One could argue that Michael Dumont's latest model is a much better bang for your buck."
"The Havalax won't last as long as the Blackbeak when all hell breaks loose."
"It will take years before that becomes evident."
"Well, that's what marketing is for, right?" Ves pointed out. "I'm sure the benefits of my model will become clear as long as we put out the right message."
After some small-talk, they moved on to the revised contract. Ves skimmed over the clauses and found nothing that stood out to him, though he only understood half of the terms.
Meanwhile, Marcella clasped her hands and added a last-minute request. "I've been thinking about the cooperation we had so far and what we can achieve in the future. I think you have a promise, Ves."
"What are you getting at?" Ves looked at his mech broker with a guarded expression.
"I'd like to take a personal stake in your business. Say, five percent of the LMC's shares."
Ves dropped the data pad containing the contract. Even Jake looked taken aback at this sudden demand.
"I'm sorry, Marcella, but I'm not short on cash right now."
"Hear me out, Ves. The current contract states that we'll be working together for at least twenty years. A lot of things can happen during that time, especially considering the Republic will be having their generational spat with the Kingdom. Times may become difficult for us, and that's why we need to forge a stronger bond."
Jake didn't refuse the suggestion out of hand. He looked intrigued and asked a pertinent question. "What are you prepared to offer in exchange for a five percent stake?"
"It's difficult to determine the LMC's current market cap. You're keeping your books close to your chests." She explained. "However, I have my sources, and I've also made a projection of your company's future earnings. I think it's fair to offer around 1.3 billion credits."
"That's a lot of money." Ves immediately replied, but he also revealed his misgivings. "But that doesn't sound enough. My growth is extremely fast compared to my competitors. Ten years from now, the LMC will be a completely different animal."
"Aren't you a little too optimistic? You've never lived through the last war, and from what everyone tells me, the upcoming one will be even more destructive. I'm also on the hook if a disaster falls upon your workshop."
They negotiated back and forth. Ves truly believed his company had a brighter future than the value that Marcella ascribed to it. Meanwhile, his mech broker believed that Ves severely underestimated the challenges his company was about to face in the next ten years.
Eventually, Marcella switched up her offer and decided to pledge 1.9 billion credits worth of marketing activities in exchange for a five percent stake and a seat at the board.
"Don't underestimate the value of marketing. It's essential to sustain your company's rapid growth phase. As your catalog and production capacity grows, you'll need to develop other channels to sell your mechs."
Jake made a subtle indication to Ves. His COO thought that Marcella offered a decent amount of value for what she asked. Ves let go of some of his misgivings. Still, the question remained whether he should issue stock or sell the ones he already had in hand?
"The Larkinson Estate won't agree with the decision to issue new stock." He responded. Before he joined the LMC, he used to be a retainer for the Larkinsons. He still acted as their proxy in a way. "Issuing new stock will dilute their ownership of the company below twenty-five percent. That's not in their interest."
In the end, Ves had to part with his own shares, reducing his ownership of the LMC from seventy-five percent to seventy percent. They slowly went through the paperwork and signed all the contracts. At the end of the day, the LMC welcomed another shareholder to the fold.
Ves rubbed his tired face. "I don't know if I made the right choice or not, but welcome to the fold. I hope you can help us grow into a fixture of the Republic."
The new agreement entailed significant changes in their cooperation. For better or worse, both of their fates became intertwined with the success of the LMC.
Chapter 258
The wrecked state of the prototype diminished its value immensely. Ves decided to scrap the pieces outright in order to recover as much exotics as possible and ship them back to his workshop.
With most of the company's envoys remaining on Bentheim to take care of business, Ves, Jake and his usual entourage decided to race back to Cloudy Curtain aboard the Barracuda. Without the shackles of a slow and lumbering convoy, the swift and agile corvette reached Cloudy Curtain in roughly a day.
Ves hardly wasted any time by returning to his office. The Blackbeak's ten-day crucible revealed a lot about its limits. "The simulations haven't been that far off."
The differences between the virtual models and the realspace testing didn't amount to much, but the details mattered. In particular, the testing revealed that the Blackbeak could use some improvements in terms of heat management and armor coverage.
"My mech runs too hot the longer it keeps running. It's not venting heat fast enough. The joints are also rather vulnerable."
Defensive knights featured very thick armor around their joints, making it difficult to exploit them as weak points. The Blackbeak demanded a certain level of mobility however, which limited the amount of armor Ves could put around its knees and elbows.
The testing grounds revealed that the joint armor degraded a little too quickly. The Veltrex armor system performed well below standards if Ves thinned its three layers beyond the minimum threshold.
Both problems demanded Ves to make a couple of unpalatable compromises. Solving the heat issues entailed incorporating more active heat emission elements, which took up valuable space. Increasing the armor around the joints meant that the Blackbeak lost a substantial amount of flexibility.
Could he plug both gaps while retaining the Blackbeak's current level of performance?
Ves crunched his head over the problems, but came up with nothing. He decided to consult the imaginary existence roosting in his mind. "C'mon, black phoenix, show me an idea."
The image hardly stirred. It didn't possess any intrinsic knowledge about mech design to suggest any solutions to the problems he faced. Ves had to solve the issue on his own.
He decided to punt on the problems and address the minor problems first. Ves corrected various minor shortcomings about his design by minutely shifting the placements of some components. It only took a couple of hours to enact all the changes, but Ves took three entire days to confirm they didn't result in any adverse consequences.
By that time, Ves made a decision about his design. "My mech is meant to stay on the field for long stretches of time. Both heat management and joint coverage are essential to extending the Blackbeak's operational time."
Though it hurt him a lot, he decided to cut into the Blackbeak's design in order to make room for further improvements. He made room by expanding its exterior to make room for a couple of heatsinks and some heat shunting mechanisms. He also clad the joints in thicker layers of interlocking plates.
Both changes profoundly affected the performance of his design. They also turned it into a slightly different beast, which forced Ves to rerun all of his virtual tests in order to insure he hadn't introduced any new flaws. This stretched on for two weeks.
The deadline to submit his new design to the MTA was only days away. Carlos knocked on his door and entered it when Ves signaled he could come in. Ves looked fairly haggard right now.
"I just came to tell you that our time is running out. You spent enough time on your design. I know you feel like you can always do more, but that's not how the industry works. Don't be like those perfectionists who spend decades on a single design."
Ves snapped out of his obsessive gaze towards his design. "You're right. I doubt I can squeeze more performance out of this design. It's time to wrap it all up."
Compared to the prototype, the latest version of the Blackbeak looked more robust. Its slightly expanded frame and substantial joint coverage slowed down the knight, shifting it away from the fighting style of a skirmisher. In exchange, Ves plugged some of its weak points and slightly increased its capacity to absorb damage.
He found it hard to tell whether his design actually improved, but at least he made it a little more rounded. Strengthening the joint armor closed a potential loophole that knowledgeable opponents could exploit with contemptuous ease. Now they had to work a little harder to cripple his knight.
The closer his design reached completion, the more the black phoenix stirred. When Ves added the logo of the LMC on the upper left chest of his mech, the bird practically screeched with impatience.
"Not yet." He whispered, trying hard to contain his image inside his head. "There's still something missing."
Despite the wholesomeness of his design, Ves felt as if it lacked a final touch. "There's a line between a fine mech and a great mech."
All of the compromises he made had turned the Blackbeak into a fine mech. His extensive use of modeling gave him confidence that all of the major kinks had been worked out. His design shouldn't carry any major flaws.
Yet that didn't seem enough.
Ves paused for over thirty minutes over this road block. No matter how much he flexed his mind, he couldn't figure out why his design was still not complete.
He decided to step out and ask for the opinions of others. He first showed off a small projection to Lucky.
"What do you think, buddy? Is it a good mech?"
"Meow!" His cat batted the projection away.
"Okay, then."
He entered the workshop floor next and gathered Cyril and Carlos. The two supervisors hummed over the Blackbeak with serious expressions in their minds.
"It's larger than the previous version." Carlos stated. "The initial design looked graceful. That's not quite the case anymore with this newer version. It looks fatter somehow."
"It looks less like a light mech and more like a medium mech." Chief Cyril added. "Thin mechs look pretty, but they don't tend to last too long in the field. Your design looks perfectly suitable to rough it out."
They supplied some comments but didn't mention anything too pertinent. Ves took his design to the rest of the mech technicians who had even less of an idea of what might be wrong.
Carlos shook his head. "Really Ves, you're obsessing too much again. I know it's important to get your first design right, but it's already a great mech. Let it go, man."
"I'll regret it if I stop at this point." He replied and shut off the projection. "I know I can do something to make it even better."
No one could help him identify the problem, he realized. Even his closest friends never understood his design philosophy. They only saw the surface of his design.
Ves left his workshop and stepped outside. He looked up at the perpetual cloudy skies and noted the subtle rainbow colors reflecting off their puffy surfaces.
It took only a minute to figure it out. "Sentiment."
He often liked to disparage other mech designers as producers of soulless objects. Yet many mech designers injected their designs with sentiment and personal feeling. The Larkinson ancestor's Valiant struck the strongest impression in his mind. The iconic mech was a piece of living history that was capable of telling an interesting tale from its appearance alone.
What kind of story did the Blackbeak convey? Why did he opt for an offensive knight, and why did it end up with a sinister aura?
His memories cast back to the start of his career.
Arriving at his workshop with a mountain of debt hanging over his head.
Designing his first virtual mech out of two badly matched elements.
Participating in the YTE and reaching the finals with the help of Charlotte.
Developing and producing the Marc Antony Mark I, his very first production model.
Journeying to Leemar and partnering up with Cadet Lovejoy to become one of the finalists of the Open Competition.
Transitioning from Novice to Apprentice, acquiring the tutelage and patronage of a venerated Master Mech Designer.
Improving the design of the original Marc Antony that resulted in the much-improved Mark II, which provided a steady amount of income to Ves.
Founding the Living Mech Corporation, thereby establishing himself as an entrepreneur as well as a mech designer.
Taking part in Lord Kaine's treacherous expedition to Groening IV, harvesting both benefits and misfortune, only to escape by the skin of teeth.
Returning home, spending his newfound wealth in merits and credits, and laying the groundwork for his first original mech.
"The Blackbeak is the culmination of my personal journey up to this point." He whispered to the skies.
Even if he didn't mean to, his design had been shaped by his past experiences. The Blackbeak, for all its beauty and darkness, exposed a portion that lay hidden beneath his heart.
"What does this tell me?"
The Blackbeak represented a subversion of the standard doctrine of employing knights as defensive bulwarks. He emphasized this design choice by applying a predominantly black coating.
The Blackbeak represented his response to the darkness of the galaxy. It had already swallowed up his father and threatened to grasp Ves in its clutches. To fight back, he had to bend the rules as well, using something as unconventional as the System to get a head-start.
He also developed the Blackbeak as a poignant response to the Caesar Augustus. The old lastgen design served as the debut of Jason Kozlowski. Perhaps Ves wanted to avoid the famous business scion's lack of success by trying to convey the opposite mood.
It also expressed his opinion that the next war would be won by survivors instead of heroes. No one knew the depths at which both sides could sink a couple of years from now. In these murky times, you had to think outside the box if you wanted to thrive.
"My mastery has something to do with this as well."
His brief but unforgettable journey into Barley's mind provided him with an essential understanding of a pilot of knights. Even if the Blackbeak looked as if it couldn't be trusted, it still possessed a bone of unyielding will. It could still be relied on to act as a defender if needed.
"I understand now. The Blackbeak is something that I had always wanted to pilot if I ever became a mech pilot."
Sadly, his genetic aptitude ruled out any possibility of piloting his own mechs. Only the seemingly omnipotent System might offer a way, but Ves never looked up the option. He had a feeling the price was much more than he could bear.
The momentary break helped him reflect upon his work and figure out what he missed. Once he finished his contemplation, he calmly went inside and returned to his office. He summoned up his projection and zoomed in on the cockpit.
The interior offered fairly luxurious furnishings for a cockpit. Ves spent a decent amount of time in prettying up the interior and making it more comfortable for pilots in it for the long haul.
He also added reliefs of the black phoenix. The different carvings conveyed a made-up story about the phoenix's origins and its eventual transformation into a black phoenix.
As a final touch, Ves didn't think of changing the functional design of his mech. He merely wanted to add his personal signature to his work. One could argue that the label underneath the front console already sufficed, but Ves thought he needed to add a deeper meaning to his design.
A weight imposed on his mind, pushing him towards a monumental decision. "You're the Blackbeak, but that's more of a name for a design."
If Ves considered his creations to be alive, then they deserved an intimate name that they could call their own. He felt like a father who was about to bestow a name to his recently born child.
With a couple of controls, Ves engraved the name of his design at the top of the interior of the cockpit.
"Your name is Akhran."
Ves let go of the reins of the image clamoring in his mind. The black phoenix screeched triumphantly as it escaped from the prison of its progenitor's mind and dove into the Blackbeak's intangible domain.
Even though he only witnessed a projection, Ves had the illusion that his design felt more complete somehow. The Blackbeak exuded a sense of finality and solidity that had always been lacking from the prototype.
"Hahahaha!" He laughed, finally letting go of the tension that had been crushing over his shoulder. "It's finished! I'm finally done!"
His very first original design was ready to be submitted to the MTA. Assuming everything went well, he would finally be able to advance his career and make his mark as a designer of original mechs.
He looked forward to competing against his upstart rival. An air of bloodlust momentarily infected his mood.
Chapter 259
The completion of the Blackbeak resulted in a cleansing of the mind. Ves never realized the black phoenix's presence took up such a heavy toll on his mind. Its departure freed up space he never knew existed.
His design possessed a definite spiritual element. He could feel it in his sixth sense. It distinguished his design from the vast majority of other designs publically available for licensing. No one would be able to tell why his design drew the eye, but it definitely possessed a seductive allure.
"It's pretty much a bad boy among designs."
The Blackbeak's appearance carried a dark mystique that made it a more natural fit among pirates and outcasts than upright mercenary circles. It was the kind of mech that appealed more to mech pilots with a lot of issues on their plate.
Even with these negative connotations, Ves still loved his design like it was his own child. In a certain sense, he indeed birthed it into this universe.
After Ves came off his high, he sighed and raised his comm before dropping it. Before he could get his evaluation from the System, he needed to fabricate a single copy of the final design. Taking such a step would leave a physical presence of his design.
"Onwards, then!"
He bounded out of his office and raced towards the workshop floor. The meandering mech technicians all looked up at his entry.
"Clear the production line!"
Everyone soon found out that the Blackbeak had been finished. The mech technicians wrapped up their projects and hauled every piece of junk to the side. They were about to witness the fabrication of the first production model, something that carried a lot more weight than the production of the prototype.
"Can we help?" Carlos asked. "We practiced on the prototype's design for several weeks. We're beginning to get the hang of it. The armor plates are still giving us a lot of trouble, but we can easily take care of the generic components."
Ves shook his head. "Not this time. It's not that I don't trust you, but my first production model is going to be submitted to the MTA. I can't afford to risk any deviations from the design."
His extensive Assembly Skills made him the most proficient fabricator in the workshop by far. This actually indicated that his workshop lacked a senior fabricator that could take over for Ves in his absence.
Such figures usually consisted of older mech designers who gave up on pursuing a career in design. Their background in mech design and their decades-long experience in fabrication entitled them to fantastic conditions. They easily earned millions of credits a year at some medium mech manufacturers.
Right now, Ves displayed the same amount of skill of a senior fabricator in his own workshop. He deftly manipulated the interface of the Dortmund to churn out part after part. His prior experience with the prototype allowed him to avoid many of the pitfalls he stumbled into last time.
Ves designed the Blackbeak to be easy to fabricate. Besides the complicated armor system and the elaborate surface carvings, the mech embodied the rule that knights should be a simple mech to make.
He even detected a faint resonance between the Dortmund printer and his work. He faithfully reconstructed the impressive machine out of a variety of salvaged parts. He understood the machine and felt connected to it in a way that he would never have with an off-the-shelf device.
The more he understood his tools, the better he was able to exert control over the process.
Even the armor forging proceeded with little incident. Once he got the hang of it once, he could reproduce the same steps in his sleep. The differences between the first version and second version of his design didn't lead to major shifts in paradigms, so he applied the same solutions as last time.
The Blackbeak's first production model slowly came together. Each bolt and plate had been made with loving care, as Ves channeled his full focus into making the most wholesome representation of his design into a physical presence in this reality.
The final step consisted of mounting a custom gem inside the cockpit. Like the Mark II, Ves turned the start button into a placeholder for a gemstone. He carefully opened a pouch and selected a pre-prepared gem that Lucky once produced some time ago.
[Black Diamond of the Night]
Increases the speed and armor of a mech by 10% at low light levels.
The dark diamond featured a compelling glint that matched the Blackbeak's mystique. While he didn't think his customers would employ his mech at night, it might provide a surprising result.
"Well, it's not quite certain my first production model will even see combat."
The mech market placed a lot of value on special or unique mechs. The abundant amount of money he harvested from the Vintage Festival was a case in point. Wealthy collectors constantly kept their eye out on mechs with noteworthy providence.
It remained to be seen whether the first production model became a rarity. It derived its value from the overall success of its design. The more copies he sold, the more collectors desired to obtain the initial copy he completed just now.
After completing his mech, Ves gathered everyone at work and invited them to gaze at the brand new model.
Jake whistled in appreciation at the sight. "I don't know how you did it, but your first production model is even more hypnotic than the prototype. I'm only worried that the market might not be able to stomach it. Those who get a glimpse of your mech from a projection won't be able to experience its intensity."
Much like artwork, a recording or a projection wouldn't be able to convey more than a tenth of the intangible properties of his hand-crafted work. His virtual models should have deserved more appreciation, but because of the limitations in simulation technology, his customers only experience a pale imitation of his original intentions.
"That's the nature of our business. We just have to work with what we have."
Ves spent the final day wrapping up his documentation. He already sent more than enough proof that he worked on his design alone, but it didn't hurt to send additional documents. He mainly paid attention to justifying his design choices. It gave the judges from the MTA a glimpse in his mind.
He also assigned the Blackbeak design a model number. Every mech designer adhered to their own rules with regards to these codes. Ves kept it relatively simple in order to keep track of his growing catalog of designs.
BP-A-01 stood for Black Phoenix, Arkhan, first published edition.
If Ves wanted to update the design, he'd change the code for the Mark II version to BP-A-02. If he wanted to design an aerial variant, the code changed into something like BP-S-01. In short, every update or variant using the Blackbeak as a base began with BP.
While he tidied up his project files, he also sneaked in some time with the System and submitted his design to its discerning gaze. The program spat out its evaluation of the Blackbeak almost instantly.
[Design Evaluation: Blackbeak BP-A-01]
Model name: Blackbeak BP-A-01
Original Manufacturer: Ves Larkinson
Weight Classification: Medium
Recommended Role: Offensive Knight
Armor: A-
Carrying Capacity: B-
Aesthetics: A
Endurance: A
Energy Efficiency: B-
Flexibility: C-
Firepower: D
Integrity: A-
Mobility: C+
Spotting: E
X-Factor: C++
Cost efficiency: C
Project involvement: 100%
Original component composition: 7%
Overall evaluation: The Blackbeak is a remarkable third-class offensive knight design that excels in lengthy conflicts. Its unusual balance between armor and design enables pilots to employ it in a variety of circumstances with abundant flexibility. However, its lack of notable strengths also demands a high level of skill and judgment to pilot the Blackbeak to its full potential.
[You have received 1000 Design Points for completing an original design that has no other equivalent.]
[You have received 500 Design Points for designing a mech with a moderate presence of X-Factor.]
"Damn it! I got so far and I still haven't broken my previous record!"
His X-Factor score showed that he had reached the extreme end of the C range, yet it didn't enter into B territory. Ves felt a little bitter about that. Even though the growth element incorporated into the design should strengthen its X-Factor over time, it wouldn't be able to show off its potential at the time of purchase.
The System's lack of fanfare around his first original design felt a little off. It treated the Blackbeak the same as the temporary designs he slapped together during competitions. This should have been a major milestone for him. He at least expected a present or something.
"Can't you say anything nice for once, System?"
[User, keep working hard on developing your ability to design mechs. You are on the right track!]
Ves threw up his hands. "Whatever."
He forgot about the System and turned to his timetable. His administration already prepared the submission procedure. He only had to hand over his first production model along with some hard copy documents to the MTA to begin the validation process.
The validation process was mainly a souped up certification process where his design and his physical copy would be judged according to a very strict standard. Once his design passed muster, Ves gained the right to exploit the design through MTA channels.
Some mech designers skipped the entire process. This was mostly the case with more renowned designers or those who worked for powerful entities like the governments of second-rate states.
Submitting a design to the MTA entailed revealing all of its strengths and weaknesses to one of the largest powers in the galaxy. For designs meant to turn the tide in a war, such a massive exposure could spell defeat for the design, so under these circumstances, the MTA never got to peek at their inner workings.
Quite obviously, Ves hadn't reached that point yet. In order to convince his customers to purchase his mechs, he needed to make its details more accessible. Ves even planned to add the Blackbeak's design to Iron Spirit in order to let the public get a taste of its wonders.
The design phase formally ended when they loaded up the design aboard a secure transport arranged by Sanyal-Ablin. The security company would send it over to the MTA's branch in Bentheim as soon as the next convoy left from Cloudy Curtain. Ves didn't have to be present at the MTA unless they called for him, so he remained home this time.
Ves sank into his sofa at the lounge with a tired sigh. "It's finally done!"
"I'm curious." Raella drawled as she sipped on a drink. She recently finished a routine patrol in her Vectrix. "When will you develop a skirmisher variant?"
"The Blackbeak isn't a good platform to develop lighter mechs." He replied, not even giving it a serious thought. "It's a bit difficult but not impossible to develop a rifleman mech out of the base model, but I'm better off designing a dedicated skirmisher from scratch."
"Oh. I guess you won't be giving me a new mech any time soon then."
"Don't feel too bad for yourself. While I'm attracted to the idea of designing a rifleman mech, I'm not sure I'll be up to the task."
"What's holding you back? I thought you knew a thing or two about laser weapons."
That was an understatement considering that Ves even knew how to build a graser rifle.
"The weapon isn't the problem. It's the musculature that's an issue. Rifleman pilots demand exact control over the movements of their mechs. I haven't taken these priorities into account when I designed the Blackbeak. So again, it's better for me to come up with a new design than try to pigeonhole a knight into a rifleman."
All of this went over Raella's head. She quickly got bored of the topic and finished her drink. She threw away the container, which a spare cleaning bot deftly caught in the air before it could soil the floor.
"Hey Ves, I'd like to ask you something."
"What's up?"
"I'd like to take a few days off. Nothing happens in this boring dump anyway and all of those spooky assassins seem to have disappeared into nothing. So I'd like to take a trip to Bentheim to have some actual fun."
Ves frowned at that. "I'm not too comfortable seeing you go out alone. Besides, we just visited Bentheim a short time ago."
"That was for business, not for fun. The only thing I did was sit in my mech all day waiting for someone stupid enough to piss me off. Just let me go, please. Besides, I won't be alone."
"Is Melkor asking for leave as well?"
"Nah, he's a straight shooter who can stand guard at the same post for years on end if needed." Raella shook her head. "I already made some plans with someone else. You see, I'm kind of dating Dietrich right now..."
Ves sat up straight at those words. "What?!"
Chapter 260
He eyed his cousin like she was an alien. "You're dating the Little Boss? He's not a very good influence! I thought you hated lowlives like him!"
Raella held up her palms in a defensive manner. "Hey, he's cool once you get to know him! He's a great mech pilot and not like a country bumpkin at all, unlike most boys I've met on this farm planet."
Ves was not in a mood to play the parent, but he didn't want to leave it at that. Relationships with junior gang bosses had a tendency to entangle everyone close into a morass of intimidation and violence.
"I don't think the family will be glad to hear that. You know how they can get sometimes. We have a reputation to uphold!"
"Screw reputation! The Larkinsons will keep being the squeaky-clean military dynasty without me then!"
The argument devolved into a mindless back-and-forth that didn't resolve anything. Ves gave up on convincing Raella, since he obviously couldn't control her movements. "Look, if you want to go out with Dietrich, then go ahead, but please don't go off and join Walter's Whalers."
"Hey, I'm not that stupid. It's just a fling, man. Don't look at me like I'm off to elope with him! Sheesh!" Raella flipped her purple-dyed hair and scampered off.
He didn't know what to do. While he liked Dietrich as a person, one day he'd be sure to inherit his father's mantle. The buddy he knew may turn into someone he wouldn't be able to recognize anymore.
"Everyone changes over time."
After taking the rest of the day off, Ves returned to work in order to prepare for his upcoming debut. His company had already prepared for his public debut for months, having contacted various news portals and noteworthy experts to attend his press conference.
Every important manager in the company gathered in the conference room to report their preparations to Ves.
"Around twenty different publications accepted the invitation to attend Michael Dumont's debut." Gavin started to report. "Our goal is to surpass that number. However, the marketing department has found out that it's very difficult to get them to send out their reporters unless we cut some deals with them. Their demands range from exclusive interviews to free mechs. Some publications even demand we hand over the first production model to them!"
Ves was not amused. "I hope you refuse those ridiculous demands."
"We put them down as gently as possible. With the help of Marcella's connections, we managed to secure the presence of at least fifteen different news portals and mech portals. They're regional names, mostly. You won't find any publication on the level of the Rimward Star Herald."
"They interviewed me last time. Did you send them an invite?"
"We did, but we only received a plain refusal. If I have to guess, they have bigger things on their plate than to cover some random Apprentice Mech Designer's debut. Thousands of mech designers around the rim are holding their debuts every day. It's too much to keep up with unless you already accumulated some fame like those direct disciples."
Frankly, Ves thought the RSH was making a big mistake, as his Blackbeak possessed a lot of noteworthy qualities for a third-class design.
"So do we have to spend more to get more publications to attend my press conference?"
"That's basically what it boils down to, boss. The reporters have to make a living too, you know. Don't think for a second that an independent news portal exists. We either cough up the dough or resign ourselves to parading your new design to a collection of smaller news portals."
"I've set a tentative marketing budget of 100 million credits. Can you cover the costs from that budget or do we need to shift more money around?"
Gavin fell into silence as he weighed the costs against the benefits. "It's only worth it to pay off the greedy publications if they have the audience to back up their big mouths. Not all of them have the viewership to support their boasts."
"I'm sure you can sort that out. Let's move on to marketing the Blackbeak. Fill me in on the plan."
His publicist turned marketing manager pressed a switch that called up a projection of the timetable. "The Blackbeak is a very compelling design, especially when you see it in person. The goal of our marketing push is to introduce the Blackbeak to public and rely on word of mouth to propagate its existence, hoping to stir up demand in the private market. Our plan is split into three phases."
Gavin briefly explained what the marketing people had come up with to make the Blackbeak famous.
His debut came first. The LMC would carefully keep the Blackbeak under wraps and avoid leaking out its appearance, its specs or its defining properties.
All the press would get to know for now was that Ves planned to announce a new offensive knight as his first original design. The marketing department wanted to rely on the wow factor to ignite the first round of buzz among the press.
The second phase consisted of fabricating ten gold-label Blackbeaks and displaying them in public at various locations around Bentheim. Their enthralling appearances should be able to elicit a lot of curiosity from the crowd.
"Wait a minute." Ves interrupted. "The plan sounds fine, but fabricating ten models without receiving compensation will drain my entire cash reserve. Does anyone know how much it costs to fabricate a single copy of the Blackbeak?"
Someone dug up the latest figures. "It costs 41 million credits for us to fabricate a single mech. The internals take up 13 million credits in raw materials, while the armor system requires 26 million credits worth of exotics to construct. The remaining 2 million credits consists of per-unit licensing fees to various companies who developed the components the Blackbeak is using."
Compared to the Caesar Augustus, the Blackbeak cost much less to produce, even with the recent level of price surges. It all had to do with his smart selection of components. Ves specifically licensed components that incorporated materials that the Republic could supply themselves.
The LMC didn't have to rely on expensive imports from distant star sectors to produce a single mech. That was one of the biggest advantages of designing your own mech.
Ves knew of the power of the X-Factor. Even with a rating of C++, the physical copy exuded a magnetic pull that definitely halted traffic. Still, he sounded a little skeptical about its reach.
"Ten models won't be enough to cover the entirety of Bentheim, or even Dorum alone."
"We don't hold any ambitions to reach the entire public. We only want to feed the hype surrounding the Blackbeak. Once people start to see it on the streets, they'll take recordings from their comms and send it to their friends and relatives."
The third phase began after that. Once the marketing department thought they created enough of a buzz, they planned to release the virtual version of the Blackbeak onto the simulation games. Iron Spirit stood out the most, of course, but Gavin also suggested making it available to non-potentate games so that laymen could get a taste of the offensive knight as well.
"Even if they're never able to pilot our products themselves, they might recommend our product to someone with the right aptitude."
This virtual release would be paired by a fairly extensive advertising campaign. Most of the marketing budget had been allocated to this phase. Working together with Marcella's brokerage, they aimed to make the Blackbeak into a momentary sensation.
"In the short term, we can rely on advertising to drive our product's appeal. We don't plan to keep this up for more than a month. After that, we can hopefully rely on positive word of mouth from our first customers to drive up demand. If not, we can always spend more."
The plan sounded risky, but Ves understood their intentions. He only had one major problem with the plan. "We don't have the liquidity to produce ten models at the snap of our fingers."
The LMC generated a decent amount of revenue in the last few months, but their overhead also increased. At their current state, they'd come up short if they wanted to buy enough raw materials to fabricate ten complete models.
"Why not ask Mrs. Bollinger to lend us the money?" Their relations officer suggested. Maisie Duval had been very busy keeping their various stakeholders in touch. "She already agreed to pledge 1.9 billion credits in marketing assistance, so she won't hesitate to advance the necessary funds."
"That's a good idea! Contact her immediately after this meeting. She'll be in charge of selling those mechs anyway, so it's not like the money is lost forever."
Like the first production model, the couple of mechs after that also held a lot of collector's value. With her salesmanship, Marcella should be able to sell the first production run at extortionary prices.
The rest of the meeting turned to logistics. Duval worked hard to establish a temporary but stable channel of exotics they needed to fabricate the Veltrex armor system. This ensured that they wouldn't be subjected to sudden supply cuts if they ramped up their production in the short term.
"I'd like to emphasize that we haven't established any long-term relationships with our current suppliers."
"That's fine. As long as they don't jack up the price, we can afford to wait and wait for better offers."
After the meeting, Ves kept staring at the cost projections. All of these elaborate plans called for lots of spendings. Everyone was in an upbeat mood after witnessing the final design. They treated it as a given that the Blackbeak would sell like hotcakes.
Carlos noticed his friend lagging behind. "What's up?"
Ves didn't feel so confident, however. "Will the market accept my design?"
"This again? Ves, at your age, you're one of the most talented mech designers in the Republic! The Havalax designed by that douchebag Dumont doesn't even come close to the Blackbeak. Besides, even if the market doesn't catch on yet, that's what all the marketing is for. As long as you throw enough money at it, even the ugliest piece of junk can become a bestseller."
That was easy for Carlos to say. He didn't risk hundreds of millions of credits on a potentially futile venture. Ves shook his head and left his seat. He had some more preparations to make.
Later that afternoon, Marcella agreed to send them a substantial advance. Combined with their existing cash reserves, they could easily afford the raw materials needed to fabricate ten Blackbeaks. After a few days' wait, the shipment of materials arrived.
This time, Ves accepted the assistance of others, though Ves still took the lead. Their frantic production and constant learning shortened the time to fabricate a single copy from three days to two days.
They managed to fabricate five extra copies they could bring to the press conference. After the Blackbeak's official unveiling, Ves planned to leave the copies behind to be shown off on the streets while he returned to finish the production run before doing anything else.
As his workers packed up the mechs and sent them off to the convoy, Ves led a procession of senior management aboard the Barracuda. He planned to arrive at Bentheim ahead of the convoy shipments in order to prepare for his debut ceremony.
Melkor and Lucky would be joining his security detail as usual.
As for his niece, Ves constantly worried for her safety. Raella had already extended her 'few days off' into a weeks-long hiatus into the underbelly of Bentheim with her new boyfriend in tow. He prayed to the heavens that Dietrich didn't drag his excitable niece into something shady.
The Barracuda deftly transitioned into FTL. Ves constantly worried what could go wrong as the time of his debut neared.
Somehow, he didn't think Dumont would let him announce a competitor to his Havelax without a challenge.
"Dumont and the Ricklins have it out for me. If they're aware of my intentions from the start, then they should have already prepared a response."
Chapter 261
Someone rang the bell in front of the entrance to his stateroom aboard the Barracuda.
"Come in!" Ves called out.
The armored hatch slid open and let in Melkor. Wearing his trademark visor, his nephew's expression had always been hard to read.
"What brings you to my office, cousin? Is it about Raella?"
"Raella's a big girl now. She can take care of herself." Melkor waved away his concerns. "I'm here for you right now. I've been hearing that you aren't holding up so well these days. You're letting your nerves get the best of you."
Ves had to admit he fell into a hole of endless worry and consternation. He constantly came up with worst-case scenarios that threatened to ruin his debut and threaten his career.
"Don't you think mech pilots have it worse? Every Time we get deployed, we risk our deaths. Even those who man the security mechs assigned to routine patrols have to worry about madman trying to tear the whole place down. The galaxy isn't safe."
He understood Melkor's underlying message. How many Mark II's had the company sold all this time? Thirty? Fifty? More? Ves didn't keep track of his customers anymore, but he guessed that most of them employed them as warmechs.
The coming years of war would test his designs like nothing ever seen before. Not just the Mark II, but also the original Mark I could see a lot of combat. With the imminent introduction of the Blackbeak, Ves pushed even more mech pilots onto the battlefield with his creations.
His face adopted a rueful smile. "So many mech pilots will struggle to survive. Who am I to lament about falling flat on stage? It's not the end of the universe for me."
Even though a poor debut had a depressing effect on the rest of his career, as long as he worked hard enough, he could eventually redeem himself. Even Jason Kozlowski turned into a respectable mech designer nowadays despite having released the bloated Caesar Augustus.
The short talk woke Ves from his spiral of doubt and uncertainty. He thanked Melkor, who left once he did his job, and stood up from his seat to stare at a projection of the Blackbeak.
"I have all of the ingredients to succeed. I'll make sure you will get the recognition and use you deserve."
His sixth sense fluttered a bit, indicating that the black phoenix had been paying attention. Ves found it interesting how the black phoenix would evolve once more models began to proliferate.
The rules of the imaginary realm boggled his mind.
From what he guessed, a single black phoenix king ruled over the entire BP-A-01 line, while paler duplicates of the imaginary entity occupied the individual mechs.
These individual images possessed a growth element, so they grew over time, adapting to both their mech pilots and their shared experiences. This in turn fed back to the king of the mech line, allowing it to grow into an even more majestic creature that elevated the entire design to a higher level.
"It's going to require a lot of energy to accomplish such a thing, if something like that will happen at all." He suspected.
His inclusion of a growth element in his design had far-reaching effects that he didn't quite yet understand. His findings on the X-Factor only scratched the surface of what it could do.
The only downside was that it took a long time for the fruits to bear. Ves had to debut the Blackbeak when the design had only just broken out of its shell. He felt apologetic about that.
"Reality isn't always so perfect. I have to work with what I got."
He spent the rest of his journey preparing for the upcoming event. Through the galactic net, he coordinated with the marketing department on Cloudy Curtain and the envoys sent ahead to Bentheim. With the help of Marcella's brokerage, they secured a suitable venue to show off all six current production models at once.
"All of this is contingent upon the MTA approving the Blackbeak design for release." Gavin cautioned.
Ves knew his design. There was no way it could get rejected. "The Quality Assurance Department won't hold up our design. It's nowhere near those crappy designs that some of my competitors slap together in a couple of weeks. We specifically tested the limits of the prototype at the testing grounds to catch any remaining flaws that the MTA could use as an excuse to disqualify its design."
They did their due diligence. Some designers never even bothered to subject their mechs to any physical tests, thinking that the simulations would be lifelike enough to qualify.
When the Barracuda finally touched down at the spaceport, Ves met a representative from the MTA's QA Department. "Mr. Larkinson? We have a secure package for you."
A couple of security officers in MTA uniforms proceeded to confirm his identity. Once they made sure that he wasn't a body double, a robot, a clone or some brainwashed schmuck, the rep handed over a couple of fancy data pads.
As the people from the MTA boarded their shuttle and left, Ves glanced over pads with apprehension. Everyone else gathered around him to stare at the gilded pads. Their ceremonial appearance made it clear that their contents contained an official judgment from the QA Department.
"Open it up."
He activated the first pad. It took a few seconds for them to get a grip on the cover letter of the only document in the pad.
"...We are pleased to validate your submitted design, code name BP-A-01, as a battleworthy mech..."
"...Your submitted design exceeds the minimum standards of quality set forth by our Quality Assurance Department. It has been deemed worthy enough to be added to our archives..."
"...Your submitted design will be available for licensing as soon as it is commercially released. If your submitted design is not commercially exploited by any party, we will make your design available for licensing after one standard month..."
"...Our appraisers have determined the value of a standard ten-year production license of your submitted design to be 3 billion bright credits. If you wish to dispute this estimate, you are free to lodge a formal objection..."
"We did it!" Carlos yelled and raised his fist. "The MTA approved of our design!"
Everyone held a miniature celebration. The last roadblock ahead of its introduction to the market had been cleared. Even if Ves expected the MTA to give out their stamp of approval, even he didn't know for sure.
"The Blackbeak's license is worth only 3 billion credits." Ves sardonically said. "I don't know whether to feel glad or insulted. The license for the Havalax is worth 3 billion credits as well."
"Cheer up, Ves." Carlos clapped his back. "Even if they don't recognize your mech is better, at least it's in the same league."
Vees didn't think it likely that someone would license his design in the current generation. The huge sum mainly served as bragging rights.
For a third-class mech design, a valuation of 3 billion credits wasn't shabby at all. Ves sometimes heard of awful designs receiving a licensing value of only 500 million credits.
In that regard, he did quite well, though he heard of some geniuses managing to achieve a value of 4 billion credits.
"If I only had more time and better component licenses."
Now that the Blackbeak officially entered the records and became an MTA-approved design, their preparations entered a fever pitch. Ves shuttled back and forth between Marcella's brokerage and various offices in order to insure that nothing went wrong.
In the meantime, his back office continued to persuade more publications to come and cover the press conference without throwing too much money at them. That had proven to be quite a challenge.
Time passed in a blink, and the date of his debut had finally arrived. Ves woke up with all of his mental burdens gone. Somehow, he felt as if he already did his best.
After a short breakfast, Ves joined up with his entourage and left for the venue of his debut. They reserved an upscale exhibition hall in downtown Dorum that other mech designers frequently used to introduce new designs.
Beyond the palatial double doors, six gleaming Blackbeaks stood at a row behind the podium where Ves would make his speech.
"Wow."
Five of them stood just behind the first production model like an honor guard. All of their collective X-Factors resonated with each other to produce a remarkably strong aura that even took Ves aback.
Carlos whispered in appreciation. "With mechs like these, who's going to remember the Havalax?"
"Indeed."
Their view quickly cut off as a couple of bots covered the mechs with cloth. The bright white covers allowed spectators to get a glimpse of the silhouettes, which teased everyone's imaginations.
"Alright, folks! This is the big day! Let's make sure it happens without incident!"
Every preparation had already been made, but it didn't hurt to check. The exhibition room had been spruced up with banners featuring the LMC's iconic logo. Lucky meowed at the tall tapestries depicting a stylized version of himself longing atop a cartoonish cloud.
"That's you, buddy."
"Meow!"
His cat didn't seem so pleased at his appearance in the logo. Ves may have gone a little too far in making him appear cute and innocent.
"Oh come on, just look at that cute face of yours, with such big eyes you'll surely be a hit with the ladies!"
Lucky hissed and scampered off, not wanting to hear anymore nonsense from his owner. Ves merely shrugged his shoulders and went back to his final preparations. He already had a speech planned out which not only acknowledged his achievements, but also laid out a bold vision of the future.
Half an hour before the start of the conference, the first reporters arrived with a fanfare of hovering recorder bots. The reporters already staked their places before the podium, hoping to occupy the best positions for their bots to transmit the press conference to their employers.
After that, security cleared a number of spectators. The LMC sent out a lot of invitations in the last couple of weeks. Those who decided to attend consisted mainly of industry insiders and previous customers.
Besides the expected guests, Ves also decided to open up his conference to bystanders. Plenty of people who walked by the exhibition hall must be wondering what all the commotion was all about.
This led to a fairly boisterous scene at the rear of the hall. Everyone pointed at the six covered mechs, hoping to get an early peak of what they hid underneath.
Time went by until it reached local noontime. Conversations faded out as Ves stepped forth onto the stage. Garbed in his anti-grav clothes, he cut a sharp figure as a mech designer.
"Welcome, everyone. Thank you for attending this press conference. Today, I will be introducing my first original design, a model which will revolutionize the way its pilots will be able to survive the coming battles!"
Ves waved his hand and a projection appeared of the LMC's logo. Lucky quietly meowed in objection at the back, but no one heard his complaints.
"Let me begin by introducing my company. Founded on the quiet planet of Cloudy Curtain, the LMC aims to elevate the sleepy rural planet's economy and bring more employment opportunities to its citizens. We already employ a substantial amount of mech technicians and office workers, and with the introduction of my upcoming design, I expect the company to expand even faster!"
The projection shifted to footage of a large number of decisive historical battles. They all featured a number of iconic mechs that enthusiasts could recognize in their sleep.
"You may be wondering what the LMC stands for. It's short for Living Mech Corporation. I named my company this way because I believe that mechs are more than machines. With all the love and passion surrounding mechs, we don't always appreciate their contribution to humanity."
He raised his hand, pausing the projection to a fateful clash between two top-tier cutting-edge mechs.
"Think about it. How many lives are depended upon mechs? The entire course of the galaxy is constantly shifting due to the tireless contribution of mechs of all shapes and colors. They deserve our appreciation, and the LMC is my way of setting forth my principle that mechs can be alive as well!"
"That's a bold statement, Mr. Larkinson!" A reporter rudely interrupted his speech. "But we didn't come here to be lectured about mechs! We know our business, so can you please move on to your new design?!"
Ves maintained his smile before the cameras. The reporter happened to be representing The Republican Mech, one of the Bright Republic's most widely read news portals on mechs.
Instead of snapping back with a verbal quip, Ves snapped his fingers. The clothes clinging over the mechs suddenly moved away, revealing the Blackbeaks in their full splendor.
"Is this what you wanted to see?"
Chapter 262
No matter how many times Ves showed off his hand-crafted mechs, he never got tired of their dumbstruck faces. The snappy reporter from The Republican Mech practically dropped his jaw as he experienced the full brunt of their overlapping auras.
Nothing prepared his audience for this experience. Even those who witnessed his limited editions models at the Vintage Festival thought that Ves had could only achieve such results through herculean efforts.
The Blackbeak models right in front of them proved them wrong. Though they consisted of limited-issue gold label mechs, their powerful X-Factor exuded so much impact that even bots might fizzle out for a nanosecond or two.
"Impressed?" Ves asked the silent crowd. "This is just the start."
He snapped his fingers again, causing the mechs to come online. Their eyes glowed menacingly red while the feather-shaped shoulder pauldrons glowed in various shades of grey while leaking out a faint trace of dark vapor.
It took a lot of wrangling with the exhibition hall to pull off this stunt, but it had been worth it as the audience received a double whammy. Much like the rolling cape for the Marcus Aurelius, the miasma leaking off the Blackbeak drastically enhanced its visual presence.
The gloomy tones of black and gray made it look like the Blackbeak had emerged from the depths of the underworld to haunt the living in an inexorable march. The sword and shield affixed to their arms added an additional feeling of threat, and the phoenix-themed engravings on their surface only reinforced the myth.
"This is the Blackbeak BP-A-01, an offensive knight mech I've designed as the culmination of my experiences and insights into knights." Ves declared in front of the still-stunned crowd. His words served to pull them back from their fascination and hang onto his words. "It is a design that embodies the will to survive by any means possible!"
A new ensemble of projections appeared. They consisted of highly realistic combat simulations that showcased the Blackbeak's performance under a variety of conditions.
In one projection, the Blackbeak dueled against a swordsman mech. The latter mech had the edge in power and speed, but its sword failed to circumvent the Blackbeak's moon-shaped phoenix shield. The offensive knight grinded down the hapless swordsman mech over the course of a couple of minutes.
Another projection showed the Blackbeak as the forward element of a long-ranged deep-strike squad. They encountered a hostile patrol of defending mechs and became entangled in a fight. The Blackbeak showcased its defensive prowess by enduring a withering barrage of long-ranged fire with its shield and its armor. The Veltrex armor system held up long enough for the squad to gain a decisive edge.
Yet another scenario proved to be the most compelling. It showed a time-lapse of the mech being used in a low-intensity war. Each time the Blackbeak deployed on the battlefield, it gained additional scars and battle damage. Each time it returned to a workshop, the mech technicians fixed it up with ease.
Such a sequence of events didn't sound so interesting, but it kept repeating over and over. The battlefields changed, the allies it fought alongside changed, but the Blackbeak remained the same, bar a few choice customizations it picked up along the way. Over the years, the frequent cycle of deployments and repairs had morphed the original model into a formidable beast.
The Blackbeak evolved over time. Rather than degrading due to faltering integrity and heavy wear-and-tear, the mech's robust internals allowed it to soldier on. Just when you thought it reached the point of no return, the mech technicians figured out a way to keep it running.
"Featuring the leading second-class Keltrex armor system, the Blackbeak is a formidable knight that is capable of withstanding enormous amounts of punishment without flinching. Its lean construction along with the revolutionary Trailblazer engine delivers performance on par with Coalition mechs but at the fraction of the cost."
The scenarios faded out and a simplified wireframe schematic appeared over Ves. The lines denoting the armor system and the engine blinked in green for a moment before he addressed the other components.
"The fuel-based power reactor runs on medium-density mech grade fuel, enabling the Blackbeak to operate on the field for an extended amount of time before requiring resupply. The design's overall energy efficiency is top-notch, and it will take substantial effort to force the Blackbeak to run out of fuel."
"The energy cells are optimized to carry medium-density fuel and can withstand a lot of punishment before they break. There is almost no chance of explosion since the mech is programmed to eject any fuel cells if their integrity is at risk."
"The artificial musculature is of a highly durable make, and is meant to last under substantial abuse..."
"The cockpit is a safe design that features additional armor and enhanced ejection systems..."
"The second-class ECM will dominate most other targeting systems on the battlefield..."
"The embedded shovel integrated in its back can be detached and used as an impromptu entrenching tool..."
Ves ran down the specs one by one. The second-class components impressed the crowd the most. Even the industry insiders found it noteworthy that a young Apprentice Mech Designer got his hands on so many quality licenses. They already started to change their appraisals of Ves, figuring he gained substantial backing from his Master or some other wealthy patron.
Meanwhile, the spectators standing behind the reporters and the distinguished guests remained rooted to the ground. Only half of them understood the jargon, but it didn't take a mech expert to understand the Blackbeak represented something special.
The extensive blending of Coalition tech with Republican practicality delivered a package that performed like a champ but kept its costs under control.
"A major issue with mechs that incorporate a lot of second-class components is that they're expensive! They often required expensive imports of rare exotics if they needed to be built or repaired."
The crowd nodded in agreement. Such mechs suffered from inflated price tags and ruinous maintenance costs.
"The Blackbeak doesn't suffer from that problem! I'm a Republican mech designer at heart, and I know what you want. I went above and beyond to ensure that all of the highest performing components can be sourced from within the borders of the Bright Republic!"
Throughout his speech, Ves set forth the Blackbeak's value proposition. It had been designed from the start to grow alongside its owners and users over a grueling conflict that everyone had been worrying about in recent times.
The specter of the latest Bright-Vesia War loomed over them like the Blackbeaks casting their shadows over the audience right at this moment. Hard times were coming and only a durable person could see them through.
"What you are witnessing are the Living Mech Corporation's exclusive premium line-up of mechs. We will be selling at least three different lines, two of which consist of a basic silver label edition and a higher-quality gold label edition that's been hand-fabricated by myself. The mechs standing behind me consists of the latter, so you already know what you can get."
A guest that looked like a wealthy collector raised his hand. "When can we buy a mech?"
"Good question, sir." Ves clapped his hands, summoning up a pricing table for his new design. "Starting from now, the LMC will be taking orders for the first production run of twenty-five gold label Blackbeaks on a first-come, first serve basis at the exclusive price of 80 million credits a piece. Subsequent production runs of the gold label edition Blackbeaks will be priced at 75 million credits, so if you are tight on credits, then it's best to wait!"
"Does this include the first production model?"
"The first production model is a mech that carries an inordinate amount of value. As a result, it's scheduled for auction at a later point in this year."
Who was he kidding? Ves wanted to hold on to the first copy because the design had only just started to pick up hype. If he auctioned it out right now, he'd be lucky to get 100 million credits. If he held onto it for half a year or more, he'd likely be able to jack up the price to 200 million credits or more.
Ves even considered keeping the model for himself, but he threw that idea away. Besides his display models, each of his mechs had been built to serve their purpose in the hands of his customers.
Whether they employed them on the battlefield or paraded them in front of guests, his buyers brought meaning to his products. Only in the hands of others did his mech fulfill their intended purpose.
"When will your more affordable silver edition mechs be available?"
"They will go on sale as soon as the first production run is finished, which will take a month or two. The silver label Blackbeaks will be sold for 60 million credits. Do note that the silver label designs will feature cleaner appearances in order to achieve these cost savings."
"Are they worse than the gold mechs?"
"They deliver the exact same performance as the gold label mechs. Both of them are near-identical designs and are made out of the same raw materials, so if you are looking for the maximum amount of benefit for the lowest cost, then the silver label Blackbeak is a compelling choice."
Ves answered a large number of questions from the reporters and the industry experts. Sometimes, their questions cut very deep.
"Mr. Larkinson, your design looks too good to be true. There's got to be a catch, right? What are the weak points of your mech?"
"I have never claimed to have designed the perfect mech." Ves tried to laugh, though he couldn't hide the awkwardness in his voice. "If I can name the most obvious weakness of the Blackbeak, it's that it isn't supplied with a ranged weapon! As a purely melee-oriented design, the Blackbeak isn't suitable for any form of marksmanship."
Some of the people in the audience wanted to pound his head. Who couldn't tell that a knight sucked at shooting? Stating something like that was as obvious as telling people that grass was green!
When he saw that the crowd didn't take his answer well, Ves relented a bit. "Okay, the Blackbeak is a design that's optimized to run all day, but it comes with only average heat-shunting capabilities. We do not recommend the Blackbeak to be deployed in places that limit heat-venting even further such as vacuum or high-heat environments."
"How well will its defenses fare compared to a defensive knight? Can it be employed to replace a defensive knight entirely?"
"The Veltrex armor system covering the shield and the frame is fully suitable to absorb impacts and shocks. That said, the Blackbeak is not intended to be employed as a low-mobility mech. Mech pilots will only bring out its full strength if they take advantage of its considerable mobility."
Ves addressed a few other difficult questions like that. He always managed to reply in a similar vein using a circuitous answer that allowed him to avoid leaving behind a record of saying something bad about his mech.
By understating the weaknesses and emphasizing the strengths that resulted from proper use of his design, Ves painted a rosy picture of his mech as the ultimate high-mobility knight. It could fit in nearly every squad composition and could even serve as a decent solo unit.
Just when he thought he could breeze through the rest of the press conference, a commotion sounded out at the entrance of the hall. The double doors slammed open as a young man stampeded past the cowed security guards.
"Heya, Ves! What's going on!? You're introducing a new design? Why didn't you invite me!"
"Hello, Michael. It's good to see you. Shouldn't you be busy selling your own mech right now?"
"Oh, my company is already taking care of it. The Havalax is selling like hotcakes! I've sold more than a hundred copies so far in the first month alone!" Michael Dumont grinned like a shark. "You've got to step up your game, Ves. How can you still call yourself a mech designer if you're only able to deliver half the amount of mechs in double the amount of time?"
"I put quality above quantity. The first production run is entirely produced from my hand, because unlike you, I'm not too lazy to wander into someone else's party."
Michael dropped his grin as he struggled to hold in his fury. "I didn't come here to celebrate with you. I came here to challenge. You see, we both designed an offensive knight, and we both released them in the same market. As far as I'm concerned, the market isn't big enough for the both of us. Let's say we duel it out."
The gauntlet had been thrown, but Michael hadn't been content with that alone.
"Let's spice it up while we're at it! Like you, I'm also hanging on to my first production model. Rather than letting them collect dust in some warehouse, why not have them duke it out?"
The stakes had been raised.
Chapter 263
Out of several possibilities his competitor could choose to go with, Dumont chose to go with the classic design duel. When two mech designers had a beef, they let the strengths of their mechs do the talking.
In truth, Ves had brainstormed several ways that Dumont could retaliate against him with his team. They came up with possibilities, such as price dumping, regulatory harassment, industrial sabotage and more.
A design duel had been well within specifications. The only snag was that Dumont conditioned his challenge by setting forth his first production model. Considering the brisk sales of his Havalax design, his first mech already accumulated an enormous amount of value.
More than risking a huge chunk of potential cash, the duel also put their reputation at stake. Nobody among the crowd could say whether one design was superior over the other. Both the Havalax and the Blackbeak designs had their own merits. Some would argue that they didn't even compete in the same space.
Yet the prospect of a rivalry at play triumphed over logic. A few bystanders already started to egg Ves on. "Fight! Fight! Fight!"
The pressure mounted on Ves to accept the duel.
"I already reserved an arena, so you don't have to go to the trouble of arranging a venue." Dumont added. "Five days from now, there's an open time slot in the match between the Dorum Velvet Fists and the Haston Grease Monkeys. We'll get to prove the worth of our designs in front of a full crowd of mech fans!"
It must have cost him quite a bit of money to arrange such a highly-valued slot. Ves mulled over the offer for any traps. The mech arena shouldn't be able to get away with any tricks, but who could tell if they did?
"I'll only accept it if there's official MTA representation."
Dumont waved his hand dismissively. "Fine!"
Requesting the presence of an agent of the MTA didn't come cheap, but it ensured that nothing funny went on. If Dumont or the arena operators tried to cheat in any way, then the MTA would come down hard on their heads.
As the challenger, Dumont was obliged to pay for it all, which saved Ves a lot of trouble since his company's liquidity didn't look all that great. Ves also had the privilege of setting some additional conditions such as the dual environment and the pilot criteria.
Ves chose to go with the most advantageous circumstances for himself. "I want the dueling ground to consist of rocky terrain with plenty of line-of-sight breaks."
His Blackbeak excelled in dragging out the fight while the Havalax sought to end the duel as quickly as possible. By making the terrain as difficult as possible, the pilot of the Blackbeak would be able to extend the pursuit.
"Fine, but don't think you can run away all matches. I don't think the public will appreciate a mech that can only stand a chance by acting like a coward!"
"As for who will drive our mechs, let's set the bar to advanced pilots no older than thirty years old."
"Agreed."
Advanced pilots could be found everywhere. If Ves didn't set such a condition, Dumont might have been able to persuade a rare expert pilot to fight in his stead. He set a relatively low age limit in order to prevent him from finding some grizzled war veteran who could pull off dozens of tricks in quick succession.
By posing all these limits, Ves made the duel more dependent on the machine rather than the person. He had faith in the quality of his Blackbeak and strongly believed in its performance despite the naysayers.
They hashed a few conditions before Dumont left in a confident whirl. He already accomplished his purpose, so there was no need to stick around anymore.
The impending design duel spoiled the rest of the press conference. Ves noticed that most of the reporters briefly notified their editors about the sudden challenge. The spell had been broken, and nothing could pull them back into his trap.
Ves decided to wrap up his press conference.
"Thank you for attending, and I will see you five days from now at the arena!"
Word spread quickly. The duel between two young promising Apprentice Mech Designers should be one of the more exciting events that took place next week.
The constant hype surrounding their rivalry didn't peak the interest of every mech fanatic, but it definitely raised their profiles. Both the Havalax and the Blackbeak received a surge of free publicity.
Many publications that had snubbed the invitation to attend the Blackbeak's unveiling must be feeling green with regret right now.
News portals such as The Republican Mech published bold-faced headlines accompanied with high-quality footage of the confrontation between the two designers. Even if they went a bit too far with their creative editing, the dramatized retelling of that day served to put their designs to the forefront of the news.
"We've already sold out our first production run!" Gavin exclaimed as he met Ves at a private dining hall in a hotel next morning. "Our buyers are practically knocking down Marcella's doors right now. We had to limit our sales to one copy per customer. Demand is through the roof!"
"The free publicity is nice, but it's only a temporary phenomenon." Ves pointed out while eating his breakfast. "Whoever admits defeat in the upcoming duel will see their demand crater overnight. No one wants to buy a mech associated with failure."
The worst thing about the duel was that the format favored the Havalax. The raw specs didn't lie and the Blackbeak's advance in endurance would never be able to come into play in a duel that only lasted thirty minutes at most.
In hindsight, the Blackbeak made for a very poor dueling mech, while the Havalax practically thrived in these circumstances.
"Do we have a pilot lined up?"
"I have someone in mind." Ves leisurely replied as he moved on to drinking his cup of tea. "There's a reason why I set the age limit to thirty."
The door to the dining hall slid open to allow the entry of a familiar face.
"Good morning Ves!"
"Melinda! Good to see you again. I didn't want to call you up for this, but I really need your help."
Melinda Larkinson took a seat at the table and poured herself some tea. She dressed casually this time, but her powerful movements and predatory expression couldn't hide the fact that she was a mech pilot. "Who's this?"
"That's Gavin, he's in charge of marketing. We were just discussing some business before you arrived."
"Your mech business must be doing well." She remarked. "You're practically the talk of the town! Ticket prices for the match between the Velvet Fists and the Grease Monkeys have tripled overnight. Even the VIP rooms are fully booked!"
The mech duel attracted a lot of interest due to hype. Most people probably didn't know too much about Ves or Dumont. They just wanted to witness a historic rivalry between two similarly talented mech designers.
Ves started to compose himself. "About that. Melinda, out of all the cousins I know who are here in the Bentheim region, you're the only one who's proficient in piloting knights. I'd like to ask you to be my champion for the upcoming duel."
The entire room plunged into silence. Even Gavin almost spurted out his coffee. He expected Ves to tap a professional mech athlete, or some kind of elite academy graduate.
"Why me?"
"Because I trust you. Because you're a Larkinson. Because you're both."
He didn't need to say anything more. As a Larkinson himself, he knew how much the family prized their potentates. Every Larkinson with the aptitude to become a mech pilot had received a vigorous amount of training from the start. The family ensured that every Larkinson began their piloting careers with a solid foundation along with a couple of fully developed specialties.
For example, Raella excelled in piloting skirmishers and light mechs, while Melkor turned into a killing machine if he piloted a rifleman. Besides hard work, much of what they accomplished could be attributed to the training they received from the family.
Melinda looked dead-serious now as she weighed the offer carefully. "I'm not too sure about this. Sure, I know a thing or two about knights, but I'm more of an all-rounder than a dedicated knight pilot. Law enforcement mechs are a whole different beast, you know!"
Ves still remembered the mech she piloted when she rescued him from an assassination attempt. Her law enforcement mech consisted of an aerial hybrid knight that exchanged a sword for a fluid projector.
"It's not a bad thing if you're not a pure knight pilot. The Blackbeak is an offensive knight, so it performs at its best if you take advantage of its mobility. It's still a knight, but it's got several things in common with more agile knights like skirmisher mechs."
No matter who he approached, Ves still wanted to persuade Melinda to take up his cause. She was family, and family was meant to stick together.
"This is a lot to take in, you know." Melinda breathed deeply. "I'm not a stranger of duels, but the stakes are awfully high. How much money is at stake?"
Ves gestured to Gavin, who supplied the latest estimate. "The first production model alone can be worth as much as 300 million credits if you manage to win. Collectors are willing to throw money at any mech that carries such a great piece of history!"
"Sheesh, Ves! You're sticking me into a mech worth 300 million? Why not deposit a few billion credits in my cockpit while you're at it!"
"Actually, Miss Melinda, the outcome of the duel has far-ranging effects on the demand of the Blackbeak model. If we win, we can expect strong sales to deliver additional revenue to the tune of two or three billion credits over the next year. If we lose, we'll be lucky if we can get the production line running at all..."
All of this piled more weight onto Melinda's shoulders. She had never been made responsible over so many potential gains and losses in her life. Her face turned numb at the dizzying amount of money being bandied about.
"My salary is only around 200,000 credits a year. I really don't know, Ves. I'm a decent pilot when I'm on assignment for the Planetary Guard, but I've never performed in front of the entire Republic. Do you know how many fans are tuning in to the match between the Fists and the Monkeys? That's one of the most popular dueling teams in the Republic! And I'm going to be showing off my skills during their half-time break!"
Obviously, Melinda couldn't handle the pressure like a seasoned mech athlete. Ves wished that Raella hadn't wandered off with Dietrich, because he could surely use some help in reassuring his cousin.
"Competing in public is not that scary when you're good. I know you're good. Think about it as an opportunity to wave the flag for the family. Show the Republic what a Larkinson can do! If you win the match, you'll not only help me sell more mechs, but you'll also boost the careers of every Larkinson in active duty!"
When Ves joined the family's Steering Committee and attended their annual meeting, he learned that one of the family's priorities was supporting the careers of their younger mech pilots.
Many of his nephews and nieces joined the Mech Corps with dreams of making it big. It took a lot of money and effort to distinguish themselves from the other talents in their units.
"Consider this as well." Ves continued. "The Larkinson Estate owns twenty-five percent of my company. A win will directly boost my company's earnings, to the point where the family will potentially earn billions of credits in dividends down the line. Think of what the family can do with all of that money. We can increase the pensions for the widowers and provide better training for the young."
Not every Larkinson prioritized giving back to the family, but Melinda showed signs that she was receptive to the idea. She owed a lot to the family.
" I'm even willing to give you a fair share of what we gained. Have you ever thought about moving into a glitzy penthouse in the middle of downtown Dorum? I can pay for all of that."
This time, Melinda didn't hesitate any longer. "Okay, deal! I'll do it! I'll pilot your damn mech in front of a circus! Just get me that penthouse!"
Chapter 264
As the center of landbound mechs in the Republic, Bentheim featured a lot of mech arenas. Ves himself had witnessed the famous Leviticus vanquishing over another opponent at a privately-run mech coliseum. That enormous venue only found enough space to operate by setting up at the outskirts of Dorum.
Their upcoming design duel took place at a massive stadium operated by Bentheim's local government. Its central arena took up the same amount of space as the domed arena he visited at Moira's Paradise.
Ves entered the chamber that held the first production model of the Blackbeak. The mech looked as pristine as ever, courtesy of the mech technicians scouring over its surface right now.
In the days since Melinda accepted to duel in his stead, a lot had changed.
The lack of major events at this time prompted many publications to blow up the rivalry between Ves and Dumont. They turned a minor scuffle between competitors into the battle of the century.
All of this raised the profile of their mechs. Interest in the Blackbeak surged, with many laymen clamoring to pilot its virtual version. Ves vetoed the release of the virtual model, as he didn't wish to let his competitors study his design.
Although its specs had already been published, that was different from getting a solid feel for the mech. Any decent mech designer could easily spot a dozen weak points in any design if they spent at least an hour with any random design.
Dumont must have gotten a good glimpse already when he issued his challenge, so Ves had already fallen behind.
On the other hand, the Havalax had already started selling. While Dumont withheld the virtual version to the public, footage of the Havalax in action already started to appear on the galactic net.
This, along with other articles published over the last month provided Ves with a wealth of information on his competitor's design.
While he tried to figure out what made the Havalax tick, Melinda trained with the Blackbeak as if her life depended on it. She applied for leave at the Planetary Guard and moved full-time into his first production model. The only time she left the mech was when she had to sleep or wanted to practice her more advanced maneuvers in a simulation.
Currently, Melinda sat at a nearby table and held her head in her hands.
"Are you ready to go on stage?"
Melinda groaned at his question. "How full is the arena?"
"It's completely packed. There's more than half a million spectators out here. Win or lose, you're bound to become a celebrity."
"Yippy." She replied flatly. "You know, my comm has been flooded with messages from our fellow cousins. They're all envious as hell that I'm able to display my skills in front of so many people. I bet they'll sing a different tune if they're in my place."
"Melinda, it's going to be fine. You've been spending a lot of hours inside the cockpit. Have you gotten a good feel for the Blackbeak."
This time, she released a brief smile. "I don't know how you did it, but your creation is one of the smoothest mechs I've ever piloted! It's like I'm donning a second skin, but larger. Best of all, it doesn't have any of the pet peeves that ruin my day!"
Experiencing the full majesty of a gold label mech was a unique experience. Melinda practically broadened her perspective on how far a mech could go to deliver an immersive piloting experience. The strong X-Factor in the Blackbeak's frame resonated within her bones each time she interfaced with the mech.
In addition, Ves applied everything he learned from acquiring his initial mastery into knights. Ves noted everything that Barley had grown frustrated about and made sure those elements didn't show up in his own design. This smoothed out the piloting experience and enabled Melinda to focus more on beating her opponent and less on trying to make her machine move as she wished.
Ves glanced up at the clock. "The last duel between the Velvet Fists and the Grease Monkeys before the break should almost be ending. If you're still having second thoughts, you can still back out now. Some of my underlings brought a couple of replacement pilots, you see."
"That won't be necessary." She shook her head. "I'm used to the first production model, and it's gotten used to me as well. You can't replace me at this point, not if you want your Blackbeak to perform at its best."
He shrugged. "Very well, then. Don't forget that you are risking your life out there on the field. If the duel is heading into an awful direction, don't hesitate to concede. I don't want you to risk your life just to drive more sales for my mechs. I can always figure something out if that happens, but there's no way for me to revive you from the dead."
"I'm not Jackknife Jake, Ves. I know my limits. In the Planetary Guard, we learned how much we can push a mech."
Minutes went by until the faint commotion above faded out. The latest duel must have come to a conclusion. An arena guide appeared from a side entrance.
"Mr. Larkinson, time is up. Please come with me. Lieutenant Larkinson, please enter the cockpit. Your mech will be lifted onto the arena as soon as we rearrange its terrain."
"Roger that."
The arena personnel guided Ves up a lifter platform which brought him out in the open. The recorders zoomed in on his face.
"Up next is one of our Republic's homegrown mech designers, a superstar who emerged out of nowhere! Give it up for the nerdy half of the Larkinson duo, Ves Larkinson!"
Ninety percent of the spectators had never heard of him before. Even if they caught a glimpse of his designs, the kind of people who attended mech duels cared more about the people piloting the mechs than the designers who made the machines.
Nevertheless, that didn't diminish the momentary enthusiasm of the crowd. With all the hype surrounding this duel, its anticipation had surpassed the outcome of the match they originally came to attend. The Velvet Fists and the Grease Monkeys had completely turned into sideshow characters at this moment.
The lifter platform reached an elaborate open tribune. Despite its size, only two seats had been placed at the center. Michael Dumont already sat at the seat to the left, leaving Ves to take the one on the right.
"Ves."
"Michael."
They didn't exchange any other words. At this point, no amount of talk would change anything. Both of them let the minutes tick by in silence until the arena finished its reorganization of the dueling grounds.
It was a wonder to witness how effortlessly the battleground morphed from a plain tiled surface to a decent imitation of a rocky canyon. Large amounts of rocks, cliffs and other debris carted in from below and cluttered up the field until it became impossible to see the other end of the arena from ground level.
Once the arena finished its rearrangement, the mechs started to appear.
"First to enter the stage is Michael Dumont's Havalax! Coated in resplendent white, this offensive knight can run as hard as it can hit! While it possesses a decent set of armor, the Havalax excels in hacking down its opposition through unrelenting aggression! Armed with both a sword and a handaxe, the Havalax has a plethora of offensive options to dismantle anything in its way!"
A projection of the mech pilot appeared over the sky. Ves took one look at the man's uniform before his face began to fall.
"Piloting the Havalax on behalf of Dumont is Captain Jaimie Vicar! Captain Vicar is one of the greatest talents to emerge from the Republic in recent times, and he has won a number of prestigious awards before the Mech Corps snapped him up! Nowadays, he leads his own unit as the youngest captain in our homegrown 3rd Infernal Hellhounds Regiment!"
Captain Vicar's handsome face and curvy blond hair made him a hit among the ladies, who all started to shriek like they lost all of their intelligence. Ves didn't care about that, but he did grow worried about Vicar's capabilities.
The Mech Corps held themselves to a higher standard than the Planetary Guard. They recruited the best of the best and anyone who reached the rank of captain at such a young age must be someone with a lot of promise. At the very least, the Mech Corps must be feeling hopeful that Captain Vicar had a decent chance of advancing to expert pilot someday.
The Blackbeak appeared next. Unlike the Havalax, the Blackbeak's strong X-Factor and dark appearance caused the crowd to grow a little muted. Even though they saw a couple of projections of the models in ads and promotions, it was different now that they encountered it in person.
"Emerging from beneath is the inventively-named Blackbeak! It's an offensive knight that's made for war! Featuring top-notch endurance and a running time that lasts for days, it's the perfect mech to deploy if you wish to drive the Vesians mad! Mr. Larkinson has promised that the Blackbeak is a mech that will grow with its pilot and is able to last an entire war. Hyperbole or not, the Blackbeak makes for a striking sight!"
Compared to Vicar's enthusiastic reception, the crowd reacted with considerably less attention when Melinda began to be profiled. The announcers briefly went over the highlights of her career, which wasn't much considering she spent much of her time in training or walking the beat in a rather boring law enforcement mech. Still, no matter how plain her biography looked, it didn't detract from the sheer amount of time and effort Melinda put into her training.
The two mechs approached the center of the complex battlefield until they were ten seconds apart. Formal duels of this nature mandated that the mechs had to be within line of sight from the start.
A number of inspection bots bearing the logo of the MTA started to scour the battlefield and the mechs. The delegation from the MTA occupied a different platform just above the heads of Ves and Dumont. Even though the projections didn't introduce them in any way, their presence was very much felt due to their reputation alone.
The bots cleared the arena once they failed to detect any signs of foul play.
"Let the duel commence in ten seconds!"
A timer counted down from ten.
Ves gripped the handholds of his seat. It felt frustrating to sit so far away while parading out his favorite niece to fight in his stead. He knew how dangerous a duel could turn out. Even though a duel between knights rarely led to fatalities due to their considerable defensive prowess, a single stab of a sword could puncture right through a cockpit if the chest armor had been weakened.
"Please don't go too far, Melinda. Just endure the opening moves. Don't try anything fancy."
The countdown ticked down to zero, and the duel officially commenced!
"FOR THE HELLHOUNDS!" The Havalax's speakers broadcasted in the air. The white mech immediately sprinted forward with its kite shield up in front. It aimed to close the gap to the Blackbeak with its superior speed.
Melinda kept her cool. She knew the Blackbeak couldn't run as fast as the Havalax, but she ran anyway in order to force her opponent to burn through its energy cells. The more the Havalax expanded its power, the sooner it's reserves ran out.
in response, the Havalax started to overload its systems, putting a lot of strain on them in exchange for a momentary surge. Captain Vicar decided to start the engagement with an axe, having sheathed the sword behind the Havalax's back.
Once his mech reached the lagging Blackbeak, it began to bash with its shield while simultaneously chopping its target from above.
The Blackbeak turned at the last moment and absorbed the shield bash with its own moon-shaped shield. As for the axe strike, it only managed to put up a hasty guard with its sword, which clearly didn't fare well against the power behind the offensive weapon.
The Blackbeak's sword arm strained to absorb the impact, allowing the Havalax to slip in a low kick that destabilized the black mech's footing. This opened up the Blackbeak to another attack!
Melinda immediately faced a crisis!
Chapter 265
She knew it was a bad idea. Yet her obligation to her family and her friendship with Ves urged her to step up and make the Republic remember the glory of the Larkinsons.
The amount of people flocking to the arena made her falter a bit. Melinda had never been shy, but that didn't mean she felt eager to embarrass herself in front of a crowd of half-a-million spectators. If that wasn't bad enough, the entire match would be broadcasted to billions of viewers watching at home.
One misstep and she would never live it down for the rest of her life.
"Is this what mech athletes have to go through?"
She found poor comfort in her cousin, who kept blabbing about the strengths and weaknesses of the Havalax. As if she cared about those details.
The only thing she needed to know was that the Havalax possessed a lot of strength but couldn't keep it up. She merely had to outlast it with her Blackkbeak, which unfortunately struggled to match up to the Havalax's power.
Strangely enough, every time she interfaced with the Blackbeak, her doubts and worries faded away like they never existed. It was as if she was a little girl who returned to the embrace of her father.
The mech enveloped her mind and elevated it into an invisible network at the heart of the mech she controlled. Melinda had never had the pleasure of piloting a mech that treated her like a queen. Most other mechs she came in touch with treated her intrusion like an unwanted house guest.
"It's as if these mechs aren't made to be controlled by someone else."
It sounded crazy to hold such an outlandish opinion. Yet the difference became stark when she began to grow accustomed to the Blackbeak's welcoming embrace. Her nephew's mech simply possessed some kind of charm that revolutionized her piloting experience.
"Are all mechs that are worth 300 million credits like this, or is it just me?"
She felt regretful that she had to bid the Blackbeak farewell after the duel. She had warmed up to the first production model, and wished she was as loaded as her cousin. "I should have asked for this mech instead of a penthouse."
The floor suddenly started to lift the Blackbeak onto the arena. Melinda cut short her musings and shifted her focus back to her mech. She tested out the movements of her mech, finding the Blackbeak to be as responsive as a second skin. Nothing appeared to be broken. Ves made sure that her mech was in its best state possible.
Once her mech arrived at the center of the arena, Melinda didn't even flinch at all of the yelling and name-calling. The crowd meant nothing to the Blackbeak, so Melinda followed suit and tuned them out.
Her console chirped as her mech received a private communications request from the mech opposite to hers. Melinda shook out of her mantra and opened the channel.
"Miss Larkinson. It's a pleasure to meet you." Captain Vicar greeted her with his annoyingly attractive voice. "It's a shame to meet as opponents instead of colleagues. I have a lot of respect for the Bentheim Planetary Guard. It must have been hard to keep our planet in line."
"Not as hard as taking the fight to the BLM." Melinda coolly replied. She tried not to let her fangirl instincts get the better of her. "Did you participate in one of the assaults?"
"I did. The rebels put up a poor fight in one of their asteroid bases. For a movement that pretends to be strong enough to fight off the Republic, they sure didn't last very long when pressed into a corner. But anyway, I didn't open this channel to talk about old times. I just wanted to apologize to you."
"For what?"
"For beating your mech into a pulp!"
The countdown to the duel reached zero. The Havalax stormed forward at a rapid pace, catching Melinda off-guard. Her short flight backwards didn't prevent Captain Vicar from reaching her mech before she could get away.
The channel between their mechs remained open. "No offense to you, Miss Larkinson, but you don't stand a chance!"
Melinda gritted her teeth as she desperately fended off another chop of the Havalax's axe. "That's Lieutenant Larkinson to you!"
The axe was a supremely offensive weapon that transferred a lot of force with every swing. Melinda tried to redirect the force at an angle to prevent her sword and shield from chipping away, but Captain Vicar moved too quickly for her to adjust.
The damage quickly piled up. The axe bit into the Blackbeak's moon-shaped phoenix shield, parting the laser-resistant upper layer like a knife through butter. It encountered much more resistance from the middle layer, but each subsequent hack degraded the integrity of the armor, especially when the Havalax kept focusing on the same narrow area.
"Have to disengage!" She reminded herself, and tried to work together with her mech to push the Havalax back.
Melinda utilized her excellent control over the Blackbeak to shift the mech to the side. Her mech raised its shield to absorb the next attack square against the shield. A deep trench had been carved into the shield, but the Blackbeak successfully managed to bounce away from the murderous Havalax.
"You're not getting away so easily!"
The Havalax raised its power back to full and thundered after the fleeing Blackbeak. This time, Melinda paid attention to her environment. She guided her mech towards a large pile of rocks. While a mech could brush one or two aside, the sheer number of obstacles posed a significant threat if it wanted to straight through.
Her connection with the Blackbeak heightened as she took in all of the sensor input of her mech and processed them in a way that allowed her to keep track of the Blackbeak's footing. The black mech possessed enough responsiveness and flexibility to navigate the field of rocks without losing too much speed.
The Havalax turned out to be less proficient in navigating this kind of terrain. Michael Dumont designed it with a completely different paradigm in mind. Captain Vicar had to cease his opportunistic attacks in order to struggle his mech past this treacherous terrain.
The fundamental differences between their frames became evident. The Havalax was very much a momentum-based mech. It derived its superiority from its high powered engine and power reactor, allowing it to move faster and strike harder despite being clad in thick layers of armor.
Compared to the Blackbeak, the Havalax possessed a higher top speed, but this came at the expense of flexibility. Even a mech pilot as amazing as Captain Vicar struggled to make an elephant dance.
The majority of the crowd cheered for the more charismatic Vicar. Even the announcers sounded like they rooted for the Mech Corps Captain.
"Look at the Havalax navigate around those boulders! Even with these hindrances, it's hardly losing a sweat! It's a testament of his skill that he hasn't widened Miss Larkinson's lead! He's even closing in!"
They soon reached the end of the rock field, and Melinda desperately tried to reach the narrow miniature canyons up ahead. However, her mech first needed to cross a small stretch of open ground, and that was when the Havalax began to make its move.
A handful of boosters embedded into the back of the Havalax started to burn. Though they chugged a lot of the white mech's limited fuel, the extra thrust gave the mech a powerful hop that allowed it to close the distance within seconds. It raised its axe again, prompting Melinda to turn around her mech and raise its shield.
CRACK!
Captain Vicar put the Havalax's considerable forward momentum into the heavy blow. The axe managed to cut through the damaged upper portion of the moon shield and split that portion apart.
Melinda hastily ducked her mech to dodge the remaining swing of the axe. She tried to drag the Blackbeak away from the deadly axe, but Captain Vicar would have none of that.
His relentless aggression matched the Havalax's own as they collaborated to deliver his promise to dismantle the Blackbeak. The powerful knight stuck to Melinda's mech and began to rain down a hail of blows.
"Lay off a girl, will you!"
"Man or woman, it's all the same to me!" Vicar yelled over the channel. "The moment you enter a mech, you've turned into my prey!"
The Havalax had completely taken over the initiative in the fight. Vicar left no opening for Melinda to attack. His oppressive offensive started to achieve solid results when his axe began to bypass the Blackbeak's shortened shield and dig into its armor.
The audience showed little sympathy for Melinda. Instead, they egged Captain Vicar on. The man seemed to feed off the attention and upped the tempo of his offensive.
Even as the Blackbeak's armor started to suffer rents and tears, Melinda tried to keep her cool. She knew that the Havalax's hyperactive performance came at a cost. It wouldn't be able to sustain such a level of performance for more than fifteen minutes at most.
The only problem was that her mech wouldn't last more than five minutes at this rate. For all of its prowess as a knight, the Blackbeak hadn't been designed to duel against an elite knight like the Havalax.
The main problem was the compromises Ves had made in consideration with its armor coverage. Its Veltrex armor system could absorb a lot of punishment, but Ves hadn't been generous enough to apply very thick layer.
This was supposed to provide the Blackbeak with additional mobility, and against most other mechs it might be able to pull a rabbit out of a hat. This time though, the Havalax possessed enough superiority in this front to neutralize Melinda's options.
Melinda knew she had to flip the table somehow. One of the principles behind the Blackbeak was it shouldn't be playing fair. So she frantically tried to figure out a way to break the current entanglement.
Her eyes darted back and forth before focusing straight ahead. "It's a long-shot, but I've got nothing else!"
She made her decision. The Blackbeak currently suffered from quite a number of armor breaches. Internal damage had been kept at a minimum so far due to deft piloting, but a few minutes more might exacerbate the situation. Melinda made her move before her mech reached that point.
The Havalax struck down with yet another chop while holding its shield close to fend off the Blackbeak's sword. It expected its prey to backpedal in order to minimize the damage. It became surprised when the Blackbeak headed straight into the blow.
An awful tearing sound echoed into the arena as the axe bit through the shoulder pauldron. Melinda ignored the damage reports and urged her mech to continue forward.
Captain Vicar instinctively pushed out with the Havalax's shield. It impacted the Blackbeak's phoenix shield and successfully negated the black mech's momentum, but not before its head darted forward like a woodpecker about to drill into a tree.
An awful crunching sound emerged from the Havalax as its frontal head component caved in from Melinda's pointy strike.
Ves had added in the beak to the head of his design as an afterthought. Despite the lack of attention put into the beak, it was sharp and heavy enough to crunch any opposing mech's head.
The attack didn't really cripple the Havalax, but it gave Melinda enough of an opening to disengage. Her Blackbeak suffered moderate damage to one of its shoulders, but it had been worth it as she bought enough time to slip into the nearby canyons.
The entire crowd didn't know what to think of Captain Vicar's mishap. After a few seconds of silence, they all erupted into laughter.
"Captain Vicar's mech got face-checked! Look at the Havalax now! Who would ever want to kiss this poor mech with such an ugly face?"
Most mechs relied on their heads to provide a human-like perspective to their pilots. The sudden loss of those sensors disoriented Captain Vicar, who despite his plentiful battle experience still had to get used to the changed perspective.
He silently cursed to himself for letting the Blackbeak get away. His Havalax could still navigate through complex terrain, but it was doubtful if it could ever catch up again. As he gloweringly guided his mech into the narrow cliffs and valleys, the duel transitioned into another phase.
"This is more like it!" Melinda grinned as her mech slipped into the gaps. The time had come to turn this match around. "I'm done being your punching bag."
Chapter 266
Ves winced as his Blackbeak fell into a defensive posture soon after the start of the duel. The powerful Havalax started off strong and immediately pushed its advantage.
He knew it would be bad, but the Blackbeak lost the initiative and never got the opportunity to regain it. Pairing the Havalax with a captain of the 3rd Infernal Hellhounds resulted in an amazingly powerful combination that put Melinda at her wit's end.
"You could have prevented this, you know." Dumont suddenly remarked from his seat. They sat close enough to talk to each other in private. "There's no reason to accept the duel when you know your design is at a disadvantage."
"You speak as if I had a choice. You just had to issue the challenge while I was in the middle of my debut. To refuse your challenge will show the entire Republic that I'm not confident in my own design."
Dumont erupted into laughter. "Hahaha! It's like the public considers us wizards who possess a whole host of magical powers. Just because we design machines doesn't mean we know how to use them!"
Even when you lacked the courage to fight, sometimes the situation forced your hand. All of the press he invited to attend his debut would have crucified him as a coward if he dodged the challenge.
People often held mech designers to the same standards of mech pilots despite their lack of commonalities. Besides being connected to mechs, one occupation dealt with fighting while the other preferred to tinker with machines. It wasn't fair to expect a mech designer to adhere to martial traditions.
Sadly, the galaxy ran on its own rules. A mech designer must have courage. A mech designer must stand by his product. A mech designer must defend his honor if challenged.
At least Ves had been allowed to choose someone else to fight in his stead. He was a non-combatant, after all. Even if by some miracle he could pilot a mech, he still would have made a fool of himself. Even the worst pilots needed a full decade of training before they became proficient enough to outperform a simple modern combat vehicle.
"Tell me, Michael. Did you challenge me because you're still sore about your loss to me at the YTE, or did Catelyn Ricklin push you into it?"
His rival laughed again, though Dumont couldn't hide his irritation. "My associates are none of your business. The Ricklin Family is one of my shareholders, but that is the extent of my relationship with them. If you believe we're conspiring to bring you down, you're mistaken. You never even registered on our radar if not for your new design."
His words sounded innocent enough for Ves to doubt his suspicions. Did he make a mistake? Then he considered everything Dumont had done so far. Coincidence or not, Dumont had certainly made himself out to be his enemy.
"I don't know what kind of game you're playing." Ves started to say. "I didn't set out to pick a fight with you and your backers. Yet the moment you came up with an offensive knight, it's a given that we've become competitors. So as one mech designer to another, I'll warn you that you shouldn't pick a fight you can't win."
"Is that a threat?" Dumont replied sharply.
Ves smiled at his guarded posture. "Not as such. I'm merely stating that I'm better than you in any objective measure. I'll prove it to you by winning this design duel, and I'll prove it again when my Blackbeak drubs your Havalax in the market!"
"Arrogant! Let's see whether your champion can overcome my own before you open your big mouth!"
Melinda's Blackbeak just managed to slip into the complex maze of caverns and cliffs. The difficult terrain hindered the relatively stodgy Havalax while providing an advantage to the agile Blackbeak. Despite the latter's lower power levels, its agility had never fallen behind due to its fairly slim design.
Still, her troubles hadn't ended yet. The Havalax maintained pursuit and stayed hot on her heels. If the Blackbeak stumbled even once, then Captain Vicar would be sure to pounce.
The final axe strike happened to have bitten deeply into one of the Blackbeak's shoulders. The overall depth and sturdiness of that portion prevented the axe from disabling the shield arm, but it had enormously weakened it to the point where Melinda didn't trust it to hold up against a full-frontal body blow.
Despite her dire circumstances, Melinda grinned, echoing the predatory anticipation of her mech. Her opponent made a big mistake by letting her slip away. It seemed almost comical how Captain Vicar didn't expect to be pecked in a face by a mech called the Blackbeak.
"Haha, can't catch up, captain?" She taunted her opponent over the open channel.
"Don't laugh so soon. I'm catching up!"
Time was running out for Captain Vicar. If he couldn't catch up to the Blackbeak in the next twenty minutes or so, his mech would run out of steam. His mech only carried a limited amount of energy cells, but before it ran out his internals would already overheat.
Pushing the Havalax's limits came at a cost. Vicar gambled on winning on his opening move, but it turned out that Melinda proved more resilient and resourceful than he expected.
"Why don't you be a good girl and turn around for me to whack you apart?"
"Are you kidding, captain? You're the faster mech here! Come and get me if you're so eager to land a blow on my mech!"
Standard dueling conventions stated that the mech with the fastest top speed had to take the initiative. If not, it could use its superior speed to stay out of range and run out the clock. Such behavior went against the spirit of the duel so the rule had been introduced to force the duelists to fight.
A peculiarity occurred in this case when the so-called 'fastest' mech proved unable to catch up with the nominally slower mech. The Havalax possessed a higher top speed according to its spec sheet, but in practice it could only achieve those speeds in open terrain.
This rendered Captain Vicar helpless for the moment. Though he adjusted quickly and learned to move the Havalax more proficiently, it would take a long time for the gap to close. His mech expended an enormous amount of energy trying to keep all of its bulk on the move.
Knights never made for very good sprinters, though an exception could be made for the Blackbeak.
Still, Melinda noticed the Havalax gaining on her mech at an uncomfortably fast pace. If she was a better pilot, then she would have been able to push the Blackbeak out of reach.
If she wanted to change the odds, then she had to take the initiative and use her strengths.
As a Larkinson, Melinda possessed her own strengths. Besides her strong foundation, she also excelled in one other area. Her battle sense.
Many of her colleagues complimented her for her uncanny decision making in the cockpit. While Melinda had never excelled in swordsmanship, marksmanship and other flashy skills, she always managed to pull off a win by making the right decisions in the heat of battle.
Right now, her mind worked together with the Blackbeak to analyze her current surroundings. She kept her attention focused on both the Havalax and anything she could use to her advantage. She quickly found something in the terrain up ahead and adjusted the course of the Blackbeak to guide her opponent to follow suit.
The Blackbeak stomped past an arched cliff. Just as it was about to pass through the narrowest spot, it struck the upper portion of the cliff with a quick raise of its sword.
A couple of rocks fell down the cliff and rained down right above the pursuing Havalax. Captain Vicar had to veer his mech aside in order to prevent the heavy rocks from exacerbating the damage to its head.
Meanwhile the Blackbeak had turned around to stab at its distracted opponent, only to come up short when the Havalax raised its shield to turn aside the blow.
"Did you think I would fall for that?" Vicar shouted. "Think again!"
Melinda fell into a spot of trouble when the Havalax recovered faster than she thought. Vicar landed a couple of good blows with the axe that dented the Blackbeak's already worn-out shield. She had to pull off a hasty dodge in order to slip out of reach again.
This pattern repeated itself several times over. Though Melinda chose to turn around and surprise Vicar several times, the captain's insane reaction speed ensured that he would never fall into a permanent disadvantage.
"Annoying gnat! Why don't you stand still for a change!"
"Haha! Why don't you stop running yourself then?" Melinda taunted back.
Despite her repeated failures, Melinda kept up her hit-and-run attacks, making sure her mech would always be able to resume its flight before the Havalax pushed it into a corner.
Captain Vicar grew increasingly frustrated at this sequence of events. Even as he grew more adept at navigating the terrain, so did Melinda begin to master the art of hit-and-run. Her sword even managed to slip past his guard, though it only ended up scratching the Havalax's chest coating.
Still, his mech began to feel the toll. The running battles accelerated the Havalax's energy consumption and heated up the mech. He glanced at a couple of indicators in his cockpit and estimated that his mech could only hold up its current level of performance for another eight to ten minutes.
"No choice then!"
Vicar decided to do something drastic. First, he disengaged the locks holding the Havalax's kite shield in place. It dropped to the ground with a thunk, surprising both Melinda and the crowd in the arena.
Next, the Havalax quickly used its free hand to draw the sword from its back. The mech effectively abandoned the way of the shield in favor of wielding two weapons at once.
Abandoning the shield proved to be the right decision. A literal weight had been lifted off the white mech's shoulder, allowing it to gain on the Blackbeak with considerably more speed.
Melinda gritted her teeth as she realized that she couldn't get away. She turned her Blackbeak around in order to meet the incoming double chop. She parried the sword strike with her own sword while she took the axe strike with the remnants of her shield.
The latter almost splintered apart into smaller pieces after fending off the blow. People considered axes to be the ultimate shield killers, and this incident tested this maxim again.
Captain Vicar unleashed a hail of blows with the Havalax. Melinda frantically tried to disengage from the attacks, but the Havalax stubbornly stuck to her mech.
CRACK!
The Blackbeak's phoenix shield finally croaked its last breath and split apart into useless chunks. The sudden loss of the shield provided Vicar with an opening. He locked his sword with his opponents while chopping down with his axe along the Blackbeak's unprotected chest!
An awful rent resulted from that devastating strike. The axe had chopped right through all three layers of armor but stopped short from dealing any major damage to the power reactor. Still the attack exposed the Blackbeak's chest and left it open to a coup de grace.
The Havalax had run out of momentum after that last attack. This allowed the Blackbeak to bounce away and flee out of reach. The loss of its shield had liberated its speed as well.
Though the Blackbeak didn't gain as much speed as its opponent, it still proved vital in dragging out the engagement.
The two mechs ran in circles as Melinda desperately engaged in damage control. The Blackbeak not only lost its shield, but it also had to deal with various levels of damage to its frame.
Even if the Havalax started to run out of steam, Melinda wouldn't be able to put up a decent fight if she had to watch the rents in the Blackbeak's frame. The main issue was that her shield arm had become exposed. Without another shield, Melinda would be hard-pressed to survive against another barrage of swords and axes.
"Although... didn't this mech come with a shovel?"
Chapter 267
Despite the battle damage the Blackbeak incurred, its shield arm remained somewhat functional. Melinda managed to retract the spade integrated in the back of her mech and hold it like a makeshift axe.
"Is that a spade?" Captain Vicar asked with bemusement. "Your arm is already falling apart. It won't do you any good!"
"That's for me to decide!" Melinda spat back as she moved her mech to meet the Havalax in battle.
The crowd turned ecstatic at the visceral exchange of blows. Both mechs dual wielded their weapons with a varying amount of proficiency. Unfortunately, Melinda fell into leeward due to her mech's damaged shoulder and her relative lack of experience in fighting with two weapons at once.
The Havalax showed off its might by batting away the spade with its axe. The Blackbeak barely held onto the spade and recovered just in time to deflect another swing.
Every time the Blackbeak seemed pressed, Melinda always managed to recover in time. Sometimes she even hit back in unexpected ways by lashing out with a low kick in between another swing.
"You're better than I thought." Captain Vicar grunted in frustration as he tried to peel away Melinda's defenses.
The problem for him was that he pressed his mech too hard for too long. All of that running had especially stressed the Havalax's power reactor. To prevent his mech from overheating, Vicar reluctantly dialed down its power levels and therefore the amount of power his machine could exert.
He had no other choice. If he kept operating his mech at its maximum power level, then he had to be able to end the match in the next two or three minutes.
Ordinarily, Captain Vicar wouldn't have hesitated to take the most aggressive option. Yet after trying and failing to take out the Blackbeak several times, Vicar developed a modest amount of respect for Melinda.
"I always heard you Larkinsons are tough as brass, but this is the first time I've seen it for myself! You should have joined the Infernal Hellhounds!"
Melinda often received such compliments in her career. "Sorry, Captain, but all of that traveling and military discipline isn't for me. I'm happily serving with the Planetary Guard."
Even though the Havalax dialed down some of its power, it still managed to hold the advantage due to the difference in skill. Captain Vicar's mech sustained little damage so far. Any blows Melinda got past his guard landed squarely on the Havalax's thick chest armor which easily blunted glancing blows.
Getting the Blackbeak's sword to punch through all of those layers of armor required specialized techniques which Melinda didn't practice very much in lately.
Any time she tried to put some weight into her blows by turning the Blackbeak's torso or moving the entire frame forward, she telegraphed to the whole world what she planned to do. It was child's play for Captain Vicar to read her movements and adjust his own.
Melinda made a risky decision. She fainted another serious attack, which prompted the Havalax to put up a defensive posture. The Blackbeak quickly interrupted its original movements and instead continued its turn while stepping away from its opponent.
"It's been fun, captain, but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do!"
"Coward!"
The Blackbeak ran at full throttle through the narrow gaps between the cliffs. Even though it exerted quite a bit of strength and suffered from a few more telling blows, the mech's mobility hadn't been affected. It ran as fast and spry as in the beginning of the match.
In contrast, the Havalax suffered relatively little damage but exhibited the largest decrease in performance so far. For all of its upper-body strength, when it came to the engines and legs, the white mech didn't enjoy a substantial edge over its adversary without resorting to its boosters.
Captain Vicar bit his lip as he grappled with a dilemma. The Havalax didn't incorporate a lot of high-powered boosters in its back, and their fuel capacity left a lot to be desired. He engaged them once already, which meant the Havalax only carried enough fuel to boost it one more time.
He decided to bite the bullet. His mech would only start to degrade from this point onwards. All of that time spent chasing and fighting hadn't weakened the Blackbeak to its limits.
Heat and smoke started to emit from the overstressed Havalax as it began to run on fumes. The limited amount of boosters installed in its back flared with white as they pushed the offensive knight forward.
Melinda noticed the elevated heat signals emanating from the mech of her opponent, and she knew she was in trouble. Her eyes darted back and forth but she found no way to exploit the terrain to her advantage.
Her eyes drew down towards the weapons the Blackbeak currently wielded. Her spade hadn't been very useful so far. The damage to the shield arm had been too extensive to make efficient use of the limb.
She decided to throw it at her opponent. The Blackbeak made blind overarm throw that spun the spade towards the incoming Havalax. Captain Vicar managed to cross his mech's armaments in time, which deflected the spade over the head of his mech.
The move momentarily slowed the Havalax down while allowing the Blackbeak to run a little faster. Still, the interruption didn't change the fundamental equation. The Havalax would be upon its prey in seconds before its boosters ran out of juice.
Melinda considered throwing away her sword, but changed her mind fairly quickly because she still needed a weapon to finish off her opponent. She needed to pull another trick if she wanted to survive this latest crisis.
"If you want a piece of me so bad, then here I come!"
The Blackbeak turned on its heels and ponderously halted its momentum. It faced the incoming Havalax with only a single sword in its hand.
Captain Vicar didn't expect his opponent to make a stand, but he welcomed it anyway as he pushed the Havalax to collapse upon the seemingly vulnerable Blackbeak with a double overhead chop.
Just before the Havalax landed the blows, Melinda abruptly jinked her mech into a ball. The Blackbeak hunched forward and began to roll, something which few mechs had been built to withstand! Ves practically stood up from his seat when he saw the move.
Wonder above wonder, the Blackbeak didn't collapse on itself during its rolling motion. Its armor largely held up, aided by the fact that the mech sustained most of its damage in its frontal areas.
What didn't help the mech was that the Havalax suddenly tripped over its frame. A messy impact resulted from the sudden roll as Captain Vicar failed to adjust his mech in time. All of that boosting had forced his mech to rocket forward and fall into an undignified heap.
Both mechs suffered serious impact damage as the Blackbeak's back collided against the Havalax's legs.
The entire arena fell into silence as they wanted to find out which mech recovered first. Despite the collision, the Blackbeak managed to keep on rolling until it stopped in a crouch. Melinda carefully straightened up her mech while she suppressed all of the error messages.
A couple of fuel cells suffered catastrophic damage. Some of it had been ejected by the Blackbeak, but the deformities on its back prevented some of the cells from vacating their slots.
Besides the ruptured fuel cells, the damage to the Blackbeak's torso also affected its internals in other ways. Some of the delicate power channels turned inoperable, which affected the Blackbeak's already meager peak performance.
"It could have been worse." Melinda muttered as she brought her mech to an upright position. "How's it going, Captain?"
"Who the hell rolls a mech?! Don't you know how dangerous that is?!"
Vicar indeed had much to complain about. The Havalax's legs suffered major deformities from the collision. The damage didn't cripple the limbs, but disabled enough systems to severely hamper its movements. The captain guessed that his Havalax would only be capable of jogging at most.
He let out a cry of frustration! Melinda's stupid roll managed to cripple his mech to the point it had no hope of continuing the chase! It was an abrupt and ignoble end to his chance of winning the duel.
Landing the deathknell, Melinda tested the Blackbeak's mobility. Despite the earlier collision, the black mech's overall toughness allowed it to shrug it off with only a moderate loss of performance. It could still continue to run at a fair pace, which was a lot better than what the Havalax could manage with its half-crippled legs.
Melinda started to grin and began to stroll away from the Havalax with her mech. Even though it was a bumpy ride, the Blackbeak's integrity ensured it wouldn't fall apart any time soon.
Meanwhile, Captain Vicar still hadn't given up. The Havalax's legs looked bad, but he hoped that the collision had affected the Blackbeak as well. With shaky movements, his battered mech climbed up to its feet. It then started to chase after its opponent yet again.
The next few minutes turned into a rather sad affair as the Blackbeak easily teased the lumbering Havalax along the battlefield. While Melinda felt playful enough to tease the movement-impaired Havalax, her common sense prevailed and she kept a healthy distance instead.
To all of the people expecting blood, the duel had turned into a boring farce. The Havalax didn't seem capable of catching up to the Blackbeak unless the latter mech suffered from another malfunction, which didn't appear to be happening anytime soon.
Melinda's legendary roll had already entered the annals of history as the spectators spread the news along with captured footage from their comms. The Larkinsons inadvertently gained prominence throughout the Republic even before the duel had formally ended!
Watching from above, Ves shook his head at Captain Vicar's dogged persistence. His belief in himself was admirable, but his machine eventually couldn't keep up with him. While he never expected Melinda to turn the tides in such an unexpected manner, he felt relieved that his faith in his niece had borne out.
"I think this sideshow has gone on long enough." Ves remarked to Dumont. "It's time to throw in the towel."
His rival mech designer deepened his glower. Of all the reasons for Dumont's mech to fall behind, it had been a simple roll that spelled the end for his ambitions. His entire plans had fallen apart due to that fateful roll. It was practically an iron-clad rule that mech pilots should never attempt to roll their mechs!
In truth, Ves didn't design his mech to accommodate a roll. However, he did strengthen his mech's internal structure around its back in order to make it easier for the Blackbeak to dig up hardy soil. All of that modest strengthening also happened to have mitigated much of the potential damage his mech might have incurred from the roll and the collision that followed.
Dumont let out a frustrated sigh. "I concede."
A tone sounded out throughout the entire arena, announcing the end of the design duel. Mech designers had the right to concede on behalf of their pilots because design duels tested the mechs rather than the individual pilots. Dumont's words definitely put an end to his challenge and his hopes of boosting his profile.
From now on, Ves could brag that he designed the better mech, and most people would believe him at face value. The public might not understand a highly technical spec sheet, but they definitely understood the outcome of a duel. For all of its advantages, the Havalax hadn't managed to prevail against a competing design.
Ves smiled for the recorders, which hopefully broadcasted his face throughout the entire Republic. This must have been something that Dumont had been looking forward to himself. Ves reaped all of the rewards, while Dumont had to contend with social and financial ruin.
Chapter 268
The manner in which Melinda achieved victory looked comical, but it happened to have worked out in the end. Nobody knew whether she decided to roll the Blackbeak on a whim or with calculation.
Even Melinda didn't know how to answer that question. At the time, she had entered a highly immersive state where the boundaries between herself and the mech had blurred. Even as she exited her cockpit, a horde of reporters tried asking her how she came up with the idea.
"I got hit in the head and decided to take a tumble!" She shouted randomly and pressed her way past the annoying people in order to head for the showers.
Her answer became headline news along with a recounting of the duel. Various publications put their own spin on it.
Some saw it as a classic David vs Goliath struggle. Piloting a lower-performing mech, Melinda did her best to hang on to the end where she found an opportunity to upset the balance between the Blackbeak and the Havalax.
Others saw her victory as a cruel joke. Both her mech and her overall skill as a pilot couldn't compare to the qualities of Captain Vicar and the Havalax he piloted. In any objective measure, the latter combination should have won against Melinda and the Blackbeak.
One factor that played a big role was the terrain. The rocky terrain and the various obstacles played to the Blackbeak's advantage in agility. As the slightly lighter mech, it had been able to neutralize the Havalax's edge in speed by leading it through narrow terrain. This delayed Captain Vicar's one-sided thumping and sufficiently expended his mech's reserves.
The disparity in their performances led the pundits to take a closer look at the designs. They not only compared the spec sheets, but they also took a look at the publically available schematics, hoping to figure out what made the Blackbeak hold under pressure while the Havalax faltered in the end.
"The Havalax is a top-heavy design! It's the nature of a knight to be clad in thick layers of armor, but Mr. Dumont strangely decided not to strengthen the legs."
"That's not a fair characterization of his decision-making. The Blackbeak's legs are almost identical, but I don't see you raising any alarms about their lack of strength. What really happened was that the Havalax had run headlong into a stumbling block and crippled itself as a result. Anyech would wreck its legs at those boosted speeds!"
"That just shows how short-sighted Mr. Dumont really is! He piled up all of that sprinting capacity onto his mech without implementing enough safeguards His design would have been better off without those boosters!"
All of this discussion became moot, as the only thing that really mattered was that Ves had won against Dumont. The boost in credibility that he received could not be underestimated. All of the extra media attention that came with his victory also helped profile his design.
The Blackbeak had become an iconic sight. Its amazing appearance and its stubborn refusal to collapse had become etched in the eyes of the spectators of the match. Even if most of the Republic didn't witness the duel, word of mouth ensured that a lot more people started to hear about the design.
Ves decided to strike while the iron was hot and answer some questions from the media down at the press area. He left the elevated platform to allow Dumont to wallow in his pity and took a lifter platform down to where the reporters congregated.
"Mr. Larkinson! How does it feel to be a winner?"
"Fantastic, although I always expect to win at the start. I never doubted my mech and my cousin could prevail in the end!"
In truth, Ves bit his lip and clenched his fists plenty of times throughout the duel, but he didn't admit to having doubts. He wanted to portray absolute confidence in front of the press in order to enhance his design's mystique.
"How did you come up with the Blackbeak's striking appearance? Did you hire a sculptor to shape its external armor?"
"That's all me!" Ves proudly declared. "The distinctive appearance of the Blackbeak denotes its premium status as the Living Mech Corporation's gold label product line, which are available in limited quantities as they are all hand-crafted by me. More accessible versions of the Blackbeak will be released at a later date."
He answered a few more inane questions from the media before he sought refuge backstage. Even then, a lot of people who managed to get in wanted to have a word with him. He finally pushed past the throng with his strong body and reached Melinda's rest room.
"Melinda! Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." She waved away her concern as she lay sprawled onto a sofa, looking to the world as if she was a dead pig. "I'm just exhausted, that's all. That duel took a lot out of me. No offense, Ves, but I never hope to parade myself in front of the entire Republic again."
Ves took a nearby seat and turned to gaze at his fellow Larkinson. Melinda looked sweaty and drained in her piloting suit. Even though the duel only lasted less than twenty minutes, the import of her decisions took a toll on her psyche.
"How did it feel to pilot the Blackbeak into battle?"
"It's... sublime." Melinda responded as she struggled to find the right words. "It's an unforgettable experience. I already got a taste of your mech during practice, but bringing it into an actual fight is something else. All the other mechs I've piloted in my career have never responded as smoothly as the Blackbeak. It's as if I reached a higher state of being. It's probably why I delivered my best performance as a pilot up to this point."
The Blackbeak worked as intended, then. Ves smiled at her. "That's the kind of product I've been itching to design from the start. I wanted to design a mech that can work together with its mech pilot. Too many designs out there promise to be the fastest or strongest mechs in their class, but ultimately lack too much balance to make them live up to their potential."
"Can I have a mech like that too?"
"Not yet." He shook his head. "I can't give them away like candy, you know. Ask me again a few years later."
Ves left Melinda to recover on her own and entered an armored shuttle that brought him back to Marcella's brokerage. He already received a number of important notifications on his comm, including a request to attend an emergency board meeting to discuss the imminent future of the LMC.
He found it kind of annoying that the board decided to convene without his permission, but the circumstances really did call for a major shift in direction. Ves walked past the foyer and entered the elevator up to the mech broker's office.
"Marcella."
"Ves. You're here! The board is already waiting. Let's enter the conference room."
The conference room in her office looked swankier than his own. Various precision models of past models adorned the crevices in the walls. Ves paid little attention to those details and took his seat at the head of the table. The projectors flared to life as soon as he did.
A total of eight people had gathered to discuss the dilemma facing the LMC. Marcella took the word.
"As you know, Michael Dumont issued a challenge to Ves." She began. "Unless you've been living under a rock, then you already know the outcome. Right now, both the Blackbeak and Ves have gained prominence throughout the Republic, but that won't last for long. With how fast the media works, any attention directed to us will fade by the end of the week."
"How are our sales faring so far?"
"We've sold out our initial production run of twenty-five gold-label Blackbeaks." Ves responded. "It will take a little less than two months to complete this order."
"That's not enough! Mrs. Bollinger, how high is the demand for the new model?"
"They're constantly knocking at my door. My estimate is that if we prepared five-hundred mechs, we could have sold them out within the day. This is only possible due to all of the hype that followed the duel. Our failure to meet this spike in demand will potentially cost us billions of credits in lost opportunities."
The news sounded very painful to Ves. By failing to build up a stockpile or declining to expand their production capacity, the LMC effectively waved away an opportunity to cash in on their fifteen minutes of fame. While they didn't actually lose any money, their lack of preparations effectively meant they flew past a pile of free cash.
"There's a way for us to salvage this situation." Another director stated. "I've proposed this before, and I think it deserves another chance. We should partner up with a third-party manufacturer and leave the mass production of the Blackbeak up to them. I know several parties in Bentheim that will be eager to enter a contract with us for the right to produce a popular design."
Ves liked to maintain control over his own products, which was why he rejected the suggestion out of hand. The director's ties to those mech manufacturers also seemed rather shady.
He shook his head. "I still have a lot of qualms about the quality of the products by an external manufacturer. Any major defects will reflect back to us, which will tarnish our reputation as a premium mech manufacturer."
Sadly, out of all the board members, Ves remained the sole holdout on this topic. Every other board member including his own grandfather indicated that they wished to outsource production!
"Ves, I understand why you treat the company that you founded like a baby, but you are stifling its potential." Marcella explained to him. "There is nothing unusual about contracting out the production of a design. That's why the license model exists. Any faults resulting from shoddy fabrication will mainly reflect on the contracted company. We'll only get the blame if your design is at fault."
The meeting somehow moved on to inspecting a handful of quick-thinking mech manufacturers that applied to mass produce the Blackbeak on the LMC's behalf. They all wanted to waive the massive 3 billion credits licensing fee in favor of slightly higher per-unit royalty fees. All of the manufacturers had low-balled their offers, but many things could still be changed when they entered talks.
They narrowed down the list to three possible companies, one of which had been recommended by a director from Bentheim. The other two manufacturers possessed their own merits, as they had a long track record of producing various models on behalf of other mech designers in decent numbers.
"Maybe we should contract all three of them?"
"That's not a good idea. We don't know how the current tide in demand will last. The Blackbeak is still an expensive design. Even if you lower the price to 50 million credits, there aren't enough buyers in the local market to snap them all up."
"Then we should expand our reach throughout the entire Komodo Star Sector! The Blackbeak has proven itself in battle. I'm sure that we can find some foreign partners to work with to make that happen."
"Let's not move too quickly." Marcella cautioned the high-flying directors. "First, we have to solve our problems close to home before we can think of entering another market."
Despite the Bentheim director's clamoring to hand over a contract to his preferred firm, the board decided to pit the three companies against each other by allowing them to enter some kind of bidding process. The mech manufacturer that offered the most attractive conditions won the opportunity to enter into a contract with the LMC.
"What do you think, Ves? Do you agree with the plan we've hashed out?" Marcella gently prodded him. She knew how sensitive he could be about this issue. "The best way to go forward is if you establish another product category that sits below your current silver label offerings. Let's call it the bronze label. This can be an exclusive label that you can apply to mechs made by outside parties."
Ves had remained silent throughout the discussion. He still felt rather ill about the whole thing. Bronze label? He might as well call it the trash label. However, deep down he knew that his company would be better off if it could borrow the production capacity of another mech manufacturer.
He bent his head until his chin hit his chest and considered the matter deeply for a few minutes. Eventually, he gave up. "Alright. Let's contract the bronze label to a third-party manufacturer. I do want to add that the contract better include strict language on quality control."
The board had been waiting for that answer. With his assent, they formed a brief set of goals for the coming month. While Ves adjusted the BP-A-01's design for mass production, the LMC had to find a partner by the end of the week.
Chapter 269
The entire matter about outsourcing the production of bronze label Blackbeaks had spread throughout the entire company. None of the workers under Ves felt very concerned. In fact, everyone felt excited to be part of something big. The option to leave the heavy lifting to another manufacturer was seen as a boon to the LMC as a whole.
"Look at it this way." Gavin told him the next morning as Ves prepared to go on a field trip. "Up until now, most of your new recruits had nothing to do. The anemic sales of the Mark II generated so little paperwork that most of them felt useless."
Ves raised his eyebrow as he finished dressing. "Is handing over most of our production to a third-party manufacturer going to change anything?"
The way these outsourcing contracts worked in the mech industry was that a mech designer sold the rights to exploit a design to someone else. Oftentimes, the third-party manufacturer also gained the right to sell the mechs based on the borrowed design through their own channels with their own branding.
This last point served to raise the profile of the third-party manufacturer while simultaneously isolating any faults from affecting the original mech designer. Only rarely did the mech designer insist on retaining his company's original branding. That only happened if the two parties entered into a long-term alliance or if the mech designer owned a significant stake in the other manufacturer.
Essentially, it came down to control.
"Ves, just because the third-party manufacturer is going to do their own thing doesn't mean we're left in the dust. A strong surge in sales of the bronze label version will affect the popularity of the silver label and gold label versions as well. We aren't competing against our own partner for the same group of buyers."
Those that wanted to acquire more distinguished mechs could afford to wait for the LMC to produce their premium copies. Meanwhile, those who only wanted to buy the Blackbeak for its performance could order a cheaper copy with much less wait time from a third-party manufacturer.
"I admit, I'm not entirely sold on the idea. We don't actually get that much money from our partner as well. It's only a couple of millions of credits at most."
Gavin shook his head. "That's money that we basically earned for free. It doesn't cost us anything to extend a license to someone else. Sure, we need to keep an eye on them to insure they don't make shoddy mechs, but as long as they follow the agreement, we can sit back and relax while the money rolls in."
Some mech designers made their living licensing out their products. They set up design studios and focused solely on coming up with the best designs they could make. As for turning them into actual mechs? The third-party manufacturers handled all of that. They just went back to inventing newer designs while enjoying the steady stream of licensing fees.
Ves couldn't imagine working like that. He valued his designs and wanted any mechs built according to his schematics to be wholesome products that added genuine value.
To that end, Ves planned to go on a trip. "Gavin?"
"Yes, boss?"
"Please arrange an appointment with the three manufacturers we've entered talks with. I want to take a look at their production facilities."
"Why would you do that? The manufacturers have been very forthcoming with informing us of their available production capacities."
"It's not enough to know how fast and how efficiently they can pump out mechs. I want to see whether they put their heart into their mechs."
Gavin scratched his head. "If you say so."
The LMC's various departments had been working at full tilt since yesterday. Marketing brought forward their advertising plan as soon as they secured a third-party manufacturer. They also released the virtual version of the Blackbeak onto all of the popular mech sims in order to ease some of the pressure that had been building up.
"The public is getting their fix for the moment. First impressions are very positive." Gavin reported as they sat in an armored shuttle. Ves was already on his way to the company's first potential partner. "We're hoping that will translate to persistent demand for the real thing."
"That will definitely happen." Ves nodded with a confident smile. Even though the virtual interface muted much of the Blackbeak's appeal, it should still convey some of the magic of its X-Factor. "Tell me about our destination. Who are we visiting first?"
His employee pulled up a data pad and browsed through its contents. "We're on our way to a major mech manufacturer called Vaun Industrial."
Ves remembered that company. The director from Bentheim always pressed the others to enter a strategic partnership with Vaun. It made Ves suspect that the two shared some sort of connection.
"Vaun owns three production complexes and produces a range of heavy vehicles and equipment. Still, two out of three of their complexes are devoted solely to producing mechs en masse. Their last public report states that they've been contracted to produce a number of models for seven different mech manufacturers."
They sounded like big players. A company like that should have been out of the LMC's league. "Does Vaun still have enough spare capacity to produce a sufficient number of bronze label mechs?"
"Well, Vaun has offered to dedicate at least eight production lines in the first half year. After that, they'll adjust their resources according to the winds of the market. If the mass-produced Blackbeak ends up being a hit, then they can easily shift their numbers to produce less of one mech and more of ours."
Gavin didn't mention that Vaun could also decide to go the other way. If sales of the Blackbeak slumped, then they could easily shift to more profitable alternatives.
To be honest, Ves already had a bad impression of Vaun. He merely decided to visit them in order to appear more impartial.
The shuttle landed after roughly an hour. Ves spent his time on tweaking a copy of the Blackbeak's design for mass production. He saved his current progress and stepped out of the hatch to the sight of a vast complex of factories.
"Welcome to our third and newest production complex! You must be Mr. Larkinson!"
Ves shook hands with a graceful looking woman. "My name is Melody Vaun, and I'm the director of this complex. Please follow me!"
They walked towards one of the enclosed production facilities while Melody narrated the history of the company. "Like many mech manufacturers, Vaun Industrial started out when my grandfather achieved a lot of success. He excelled in both mech design and business, so his company grew fast."
What followed next sounded similar to the stories Ves had heard before. Her grandfather became increasingly proficient at designing mechs, but his children proved to be a disappointment. They all grew up learning how to design a mech and how to run a business, but they pretty much only cared about money.
This gave grandfather Vaun a lot of grief, and due to some incidents that Melody quickly glossed over, he died in an early grave.
His death presented a crisis for the company, which had expanded to the point where they operated five whole production lines for mechs. Without any new designs, Vaun would quickly fall into irrelevance. His children frantically sought another mech designer to take over in their grandfather's stead.
"We managed to enter a number of short-term contracts with various people and organizations that need things done. They never lasted more than a year or two, but it kept our company afloat."
Vaun Industrial never managed to find a mech designer good enough to produce as much sales as their late founder. A few years passed while the heirs kept accepting contracts, until they suddenly realized that Vaun Industrial didn't need to appoint another lead designer to survive as a business.
"When times became hard, we started cutting costs." Melody spoke."We eventually became quite good at efficient mass production, to the extent that our company was able to reinvest our profits into expanding our production line."
Fifty years later, Vaun Industrial ended up as a large manufacturer of mechs and other heavy gear that worked with multiple mech designers every year. Melody bragged that the secret to their success lay in their pursuit of efficiency.
"Our production lines are some of the fastest on Bentheim." She claimed, though Ves doubted their veracity. "We're able to maintain some of the highest rates of production."
"What about defects?"
"They're barely noticeable. You just reminded me of their existence."
They finally reached the closest facility. After Ves went through a thorough inspection, he followed Melody inside a cavernous white hall filled with lots of white production equipment.
He immediately turned his gaze to the 3D printers, which appeared to be smaller but faster than the Dortmund in his own workshop. Ves immediately noticed that all of the machines had been dedicated to fabricating the same components over and over again.
Melody walked over to the nearest machine. The printer worked so hard it emanated a lot of steam. "We utilize a batch production system where we fabricate enough parts to assemble hundreds of mechs at a time. These printers are highly efficient and self-sufficient at their jobs. They detect most defects on their own and scrap their current progress if the deviation is severe enough to impact the quality of the end product."
That meant that Vaun retained the components with only minor deviations. Ves would have tossed them out regardless, but Vaun obviously thought differently.
After admiring the largely automated fabrication process, they moved on to the assembly area. Large amounts of half-built mechs stood in a row. Parts were being lifted into place by a combination of advanced anti-grav technology. This prevented the assembly area from being cluttered by a sea of lifter bots.
"Similar to our fabrication process, our assembly process takes advantage of the automation processes that we've developed in-house. Incidents are rare enough that only a single person is needed to look over the assembly of thirty mechs at once."
"What kind of incidents can happen?"
"Oh, you know, screw ups that our bots have difficulty processing." She explained. "Sometimes, the bots mix up the parts from one model to another. Other times, the anti-grav system acts up and drops a couple of components. This doesn't happen more than a few times a year, so don't worry about our capabilities. We never fail to meet our production targets."
Ves wanted to talk with some of the mech technicians that worked on the factory floor, but Melody strongly denied his request. He frowned at her. "Why can't I have a simple talk with them?"
"Our apologies, Mr. Larkinson, but we've already been generous to you by allowing you to take a look. Much of our success lies in our proprietary methods and we can't ensure that our technical staff will know what to say and what to withhold. In order to maintain our trade secrets, it's company policy to never let anyone speak with our experts."
As an apology, Melody guided him to an office in which he could view a variety of different designs they produced over the years. Many of the designs came from promising Apprentice Mech Designers or newly advanced Journeyman Mech Designers who hadn't expanded their own facilities yet.
Ves didn't doubt Vaun's competence as a mech manufacturer. They worked with so many different designs that they required no adjustment time to master the production of a new design.
Vaun ran a tight ship. They could be trusted to take his design and produce hundreds of bronze label Blackbeaks without any sweat. Out of the three possible candidates to entrust his Blackbeak design, partnering with Vaun appeared to be the least riskiest option.
He still disliked them, though. Beyond the disconcerting level of automation, Ves hadn't been allowed to talk with the mech technicians or supervisors who operated the production equipment. The only person from Vaun he really talked to was Melody Vaun, who mainly tooted her company's horn.
Mentally, he already crossed them out of consideration. He'd probably have to argue against the entire board for refusing to work with Vaun. Hopefully, the other two mech manufacturers offered something better.
Chapter 270
Dumont had been drowning his sorrows in his private mansion. He sent most of the staff away, allowing him to avoid the scornful gazes of his own men.
"Here I am, a drunk and a failure."
Despite setting up the board in his favor, he failed to secure a crucial victory. Dumont put his own reputation at stake when he pitted his Havalax against Larkinson's Blackbeak. It should have been a slam-dunk win considering the Havalax's high performance characteristics turned it into an excellent dueling mech.
Nothing was ever set in stone.
He learned that lesson in the most painful way. Even a captain of the Mech Corps failed to account for the treacherous terrain and the bewildering decisions made by his opponent.
Dumont raised a glass at Melinda Larkinson's resourcefulness.
"People always say that the Larkinsons can't be messed with. They're the Republic's mangy wolves."
People called them wolves because they fought in a ferocious manner. They also called them mangy because they weren't really a big deal compared to the other military dynasties that held more sway in the Bright Republic.
Obviously, the emergence of a talented Larkinson mech designer changed the old equation. For the first time, it appeared the famous Larkinson Family gained some actual financial muscle.
All of that had nothing to do with him, of course. The highly placed folks who opposed the Larkinsons had secretly pulled some strings to allow the elite Captain Vicar to duel on his behalf.
"Hmph." He snorted. "What an elite he turned out to be."
"What happened yesterday is not his fault." An incisive female voice spoke from behind.
Dumont practically jumped from his seat, spilling his drink in the process. Tiny cleaner bots quickly cleaned up the mess, but that hardly calmed his heart. "Heavens! How did you sneak up to me, Catelyn?"
"It's not that difficult to bypass your security systems when you have dismissed most of your security." The Ricklin scion sneered. "Any two-bit thug with a gun can approach you before you notice it. And last I'm aware of, you don't wear a shield generator that can stop an attack."
"I figured it didn't matter if I put my mansion on lockdown." Dumont shrugged. "If you decide to get rid of me, nothing I do will matter."
Catelyn Ricklin shook her head as she tutted. "My dear, you always think the worst of me. Did you really think I wrote you off? Hardly. I've diverted a substantial amount of family funds to your endeavors. I'm not about to let my investment go to waste."
Wasteful spending and frivolous business decisions had caused the Ricklin family to decline. In Catelyn's eyes, Vincent Ricklin exemplified the degenerate old ways.
In any case, Dumont started to see the light again. He sobered up and faced Catelyn with his full attention. "You want to continue to collaborate? Even after half of my customers canceled their orders?"
"You're a businessman as well as a mech designer, Michael. It's not the end of the universe if you lose a duel. Certainly, all of the sensationalism surrounding your very public loss will depress your sales, but will anyone still remember you after a month? Just hunker down and ride the storm. Your prospects will surely improve after talk about the duel dies down."
"That still leaves an irremovable stain on my record. I'll hardly be able to climb back out of the pit I dug for myself. The Havalax is a tainted design."
"Then design a new mech! You shouldn't be pining over the fate of a single design! You should be expanding your catalog instead of putting all your eggs in a single basket. In the meantime, your company can muddle through if you sell the Havalax model at a discount. As long as your company stays afloat, there are plenty of opportunities to make a comeback."
Dumont nodded at her words. Earning an ample profit was a luxury at this point. "I get it now. As long as the price is attractive enough, buyers looking for a bargain won't care about the bad press."
The Havalax was still a fundamentally good design. Although its endurance didn't amount to much, the performance it delivered at the start made it suitable to be used as an elite mech. And despite the unexpected outcome of the previous duel, it still held a significant advantage in most situations.
Offensive knights couldn't display their full strength by themselves. They worked best if paired with other mechs, preferably rifleman or artillery mechs. The Havalax would really start to shine if it could do its job as a protector of other mechs.
"You've regained your senses now. Good." Catelyn nodded and turned around to leave the room. "For now, you should weather this crisis. We can make new plans after you stabilize your company."
As Dumont dreamed about reviving his prospects, Ves continued his tour of the potential partners he'd be working with to mass produce the Blackbeaks.
After leaving the industrial complex operated by Vaun, the armored shuttle brought him to the next mech manufacturer on the list. Gavin briefed him on the company.
"The next manufacturer on the list is a company called Vikaris Mechs. VM is a medium-sized family-owned mech manufacturer based in Haston. They started off producing spare mechs from salvaged fabrication equipment and expanded from there. Nowadays, they've grown to the point of running ten production lines. Also, starting from a decade ago, they entered into a long-term partnership with a big Journeyman Mech Designer."
Ves frowned at that news. "Sounds like a great deal for VM. If they partnered up with a Journeyman, then they should have been running their production lines at full capacity. Why are they turning to us?"
"They've fallen on hard times." Gavin replied without much sympathy. "The mech designer they worked with suddenly dumped them out of the blue. From what rumors I've gathered, the mech designer wanted to work with a major mech manufacturer, but had to give up all of his existing contracts to seal the deal."
That designer must have decided to work together with a major mech manufacturer because they could handle more complex designs. Many small and medium mech manufacturers didn't possess the hardware required to fabricate some of the more sophisticated parts that Journeyman-level mechs often hosted.
"VM should have anticipated that something like that might happen. A Journeyman Mech Designer can be very exacting about their designs."
His assistant shrugged. "Well, they obviously didn't take precautions, seeing as they presented us with the most favorable terms. Their negotiators seem very eager to work for us."
Ves took a data pad that contained a document that outlined their latest offers. They indeed conceded a lot of ground during the negotiations. The per-unit licensing fee had somehow climbed up all the way to five million credits.
With an expected sale price of 55 million credits per Blackbeak, that didn't leave much profits for Vikaris Mechs in the future. Everyone expected resource prices to soar once again at the outbreak of war, so Ves didn't assume the current production cost of 41 million credits to stay the same.
The shuttle arrived at Haston after an hour of flight. The working-class city looked as dreary as ever from above. The Bentheim Liberation Movement often found eager recruits from the disgruntled unemployed masses.
The premises of Vikaris Mechs reflected the lack of confidence in public security. It featured high walls and a number of worn but very functional turrets. The armored shuttle and its escorts had to land outside the walls and receive a fairly rigorous inspection before being allowed through the gates.
A portly gentleman greeted him just inside the gates. "Mr. Larkinson, it's a pleasure to meet you. Let me introduce myself. I am Frederick Yang, and I've been steering this company for more than twenty years as CEO."
Frederick looked exhausted and overworked. His black hair started graying early and he didn't bother to use any of the modern grooming solutions to revive them back to their prime.
As Ves shook hands with the man, they walked over to one of the two great halls VM had built up. "I've heard you've recently lost a major client. Can you tell me if your facilities are still up to par?"
The blunt question took the CEO aback. He returned with an awkward smile. "We've parted ways with a major client for reasons unrelated to our performance. Our equipment is fairly old, but we have lots of experienced hands to keep them running smoothly. There is no reason to doubt our capabilities. We are able to fabricate virtually any kind of design an Apprentice Mech Designer might present to us."
They entered a stale and rather worn out fabrication floor. Ves noted a few touches of rust and grime in some of the corners, but nothing truly serious. The CEO guided him to an array of printers which churned out a variety of parts. Each machine had a serious-looking mech technician or fabricator at the helm.
"We operate all of our equipment manually. We believe in providing employment opportunities to the disadvantaged communities of Haston, so we bring in those with talent and teach them the essential skills to become a fabricator or mech technician."
Many of the people indeed looked like they grew up under harsh conditions. Ves found the initiative to be admirable. It must have been difficult to educate a barely literate man or woman from scratch. "Do they have diplomas or certificates?"
"It takes too much money to send them out for examinations." The CEO shook his head. "A diploma doesn't matter too much in our circles because we already know what they are capable of. They don't need to prove themselves to us."
Ves bets that Vikaris Mechs deliberately discouraged certification for more selfish reasons. They spent so much effort bringing up their skills. If they actually gained a diploma, they'd be able to apply to other manufacturers that provided better compensation.
Still, even with this shady exploitation, the staff hardly looked aggrieved with their lot in life. They obtained precious opportunities to elevate their lives without paying any tuition at all.
As he toured the old and rusty alloy compressors and CTMs, Ves got the sense that Vikaris Mechs was a social project. They obviously didn't need to hire so many locals and spend so much effort on shoring up their skills. A score of sturdy bots could have taken over the jobs of as much as half of the people working in the halls.
"I'm very impressed with your setup, Mr. Yang." Ves cautiously praised. "Still, I'm a little concerned by the age of your machines. My design isn't very difficult to make, but Veltrex armor plating is very difficult to work with. Are you sure your gear and your men are up to the task?"
The CEO hastily nodded. "We have decades of experience with fabricating comechs. We can handle the majority of current gen compressed armor systems. There is no cause for concern, no cause for concern at all!"
Ves nodded politely to him. From what he saw with his own eyes, the CEO didn't lie. As long as the alloy compressors didn't fall apart, they should be able to meet his needs until the next generation arrived. Without a substantial investment, they wouldn't be able to keep up with the latest armor systems.
He wrapped up his visit by talking to a few workers. The CEO seemed unafraid the unsophisticated mech technicians would slip up. They probably didn't know anything important enough to matter.
Indeed, Ves didn't learn anything strange that could change his view on the company. Vikaris Mechs didn't do so well after losing their most essential partner, but they made do for now by performing small jobs here and there. The workers appeared hopeful that their company would recover its pride.
After bidding farewell to Yang, Ves and Gavin returned to their shuttle and left Haston as fast as possible.
Gavin appeared to be glad to get away from the murky town. "Ugh, all of that industrial smell is getting to me. Please let me stay in the shuttle if you want to visit Haston again."
Cloudy Curtain boasted exceptionally clean air, so it wasn't a surprise to Ves that Gavin disliked stepping foot into Haston.
"What do you think about Vikaris Mechs?"
"It's a charity case more than a business. I don't know if the owner is a bleeding heart or not, but you can hardly step forward without bumping into another worker. All of their gear also seems rather dated, but I'm not an expert on those things. The most I can say is that they don't look nearly as professional as Vaun Industrial."
At least they knew how pathetic they looked, because Vikaris Mechs offered the most attractive contract terms by far. Ves told Gavin as much. "They're cheap and they're dedicated. I think we can rely on their sincerity because we'll be their only major client for the time being."
"You get what you paid for. Don't expect consistent quality from these guys."
"True."
Chapter 271
So far, Ves visited two very different mech manufacturers. Vaun Industrial prioritized efficiency above all else while Vikaris Mechs possessed an abundance of heart. That said, neither seemed like the right fit for the LMC.
Gavin partially echoed his findings. "I can understand your doubts about Vaun, but I thought you'd be sympathetic for Vikaris. They employ lots of people and they all seem to care for their work."
"Well, it all seems a bit too harmonious. The people there seem happy, but Frederick Yang is just a patsy. Someone else is pulling the strings in the company."
"Now that you think about it, Mr. Yang doesn't seem very assertive for a CEO. You've got a bright eye for taking off that."
Combined with the overly generous contract terms, all of it seemed suspicious. Ves refused to entertain any further thoughts of cooperation with Vikaris Mechs unless they became more forthcoming on their background.
"Another thing that bugs me is the apparent charity that's going on." Ves continued. "It seems to be built on a fragile base. What if some of those workers harbor sympathies for the BLM? It's incredibly easy for a single infiltrator to sabotage an entire production line, or worse, cover up any instances of defects."
"I didn't think about that. You're right. There's too many people going in and out everyday. All of that security around their complex won't be able to stop a determined saboteur who already has free access to everything from the start."
Ves ran a business, not a social project. The main goals of the LMC should be to advance his interests and make a profit. He couldn't care less about the plight of the citizens of Haston. Bentheim's government should be cleaning up their own messes.
"Let's move onto the next destination. Who are we visiting last?"
Gavin turned to his data pad again. "We'll be dropped by a company called Elemental Mech Engineering. EME is actually a company founded by a reasonably successful mech designer called Andar Neverland. They currently only operate four production lines, but they're fairly modern and capable."
This sounded like another distressed manufacturer. "Is Mr. Neverland still alive?"
"Oh, he's alive and well. He even has a daughter who's a bit younger than you who's studying mech design at Ansel. From what we've gathered, EME has been chugging along great until their licenses expired."
This happened fairly often to mech designers. They budgeted out their earnings and saved up money for a license renewal or a net set of licenses, but something happened along the way that caused a gap to occur. The key here was finding out why Neverland couldn't acquire another set of licenses.
It didn't take too much trouble for Gavin to look up the reasons. "Sales of Neverland's designs have slumped in recent times. A huge transgalactic mech manufacturer entered the market with a fantastic design that outperformed Neverland's own products on both price and performance. Now he's facing a budget shortfall of several billion credits due to the fact he borrowed a lot of money to get his hands on quality fabrication equipment."
"Sounds like EME is Neverland's private playground. Does his company have any experience with doing contract work?"
"Not really. They're scrambling for work but their lack of pedigree in this field of business means that not a lot of clients are tempted to work with them. It also doesn't help that they're asking for a lot of compensation for their efforts."
Out of the three parties the LMC had their eyes on, EME offered the least attractive terms. They only agreed to hand over 2.5 million credits per sale, half the offer of Vikaris Mechs. In exchange, EME offered smaller concessions in other areas, such as letting the LMC keep a close eye on their activities.
The shuttle reached the industrial district of Ansel and landed at a cramped and densely built complex that bore the logo of EME. As Ves and Gavin exited the shuttle, they met with the founder and lead designer inside a lobby.
A middle-aged man greeted them with much aplomb. "Mr. Larkinson! It's a privilege to meet you in the flesh! You're a famous mech designer now. The industry is buzzing about your rise to fame."
"You flatter me." Ves casually laughed in return. "My accomplishments pale in comparison to yours."
In his opinion, experts in the mech industry hardly took any notice of Ves. They considered his duel against Dumont to be as trivial as two ignorant toddlers fighting each other over a shiny toy.
Mech designers like Neverland deserved a lot of respect for elevating his company to such a height from scratch. Even if he failed to hedge his bets in recent times, he was still very much ahead of the game compared to someone like Ves.
"I haven't heard much about you. Please tell me about your designs."
Neverland looked eager to talk about his own work. "The pride and joy of the EME is the Klamson series. The Klamsons are a line of striker mechs with varying loadouts, from flamethrowers to shotguns. I've even supplied some of the remote Planetary Guard units with Klamsons armed with fluid projectors."
"Can I take a look at the design?"
"Oh sure! They're archived in the MTA, so it doesn't hurt for you to take a look."
Ves received a data pad that contained a couple of abridged design schematics. He skimmed over the documents and inspected the wireframe schematics with an eye for attention.
In his eyes, the Klamson design didn't look very fancy, but neither did it attempt to overreach its capabilities. It was a simple, workable design that had matured over the course of a decade. The Klamson mechs also benefited from fairly premium third-class components.
Still, despite their qualities, it wouldn't be too hard for a competitor to come up with a better design. They'd have to take some risks and be more skilled, but it could be done without resorting to more expensive components.
In a way, the EME treated the Klamson series like a cash cow. Neverland probably rested on his laurels thinking that a couple of minor updates every year would suffice to keep the design competitive.
He made a big mistake and fell behind as a result. It didn't help that Neverland invested a lot of money into expanding the EME's production capacity just before his sales followed a downward trajectory.
Ves didn't mention anything unflattering and kept his comments positive. "I like what you did with the weapon holsters. Even an unskilled pilot would easily be able to stow his mech's weapons without a fuss."
"That's been a persistent problem in the earliest versions of the Klemsons." Neverland explained. "Some of my early customers used the Klemsons as training mechs, and a lot of inexperienced mech pilots broke their holsters trying to stow away their shotguns. They're not as slim and delicate like laser rifles, so mistakes happened often enough for me to figure out a better solution."
"What made you decide to commit to striker mechs? They're not the most popular archetypes around."
The older mech designer shrugged. "It's all I inherited from my mentor. He's a fanatic about strikers and I took over much of his enthusiasm. There's a lot of charm in striker mechs. They combine some of the best parts about knights and medium-ranged mechs into a single, durable package."
Ves could see some of the appeal. "Still, it must be hard to design a striker."
"Oh, not at all, actually. People who approach the archetype with the mindset of designing a knight or rifleman in a different form will come away disappointed. Strikers demand an entirely new approach. Outsiders always place too much emphasis on accuracy and precision. They weaken the frame too much in order to chase after a dream."
"Don't they require a minimum amount of accuracy?" Ves raised his eyebrow.
If the Blackbeak picked up a laser rifle and decided to use it, it would be liable to hit its own squad members. Such was the danger of neglecting accuracy.
"Mr. Larkinson, the reason why strikers are armed with wide area weapons is because poor aiming is built into the archetype. What they lack in accuracy, they make up for it in strength. Standard doctrine says that strikers should avoid melee combat whenever possible, but in practice they often resort to their bayonets or backup swords to fend off an opponent up close."
Their conversation halted when they reached the fabrication floor. It didn't look as clean as the floor from Vaun, but neither did it look grimy like the floor from Vikaris. The look and feel of EME's floor resembled an upscaled workshop, much like the one owned by Ves.
Recent expansion has left the floor a little cramped. An abundance of shiny new production equipment sat idle. With the lack of demand for the Klemsons and no other contracts to fulfill, the expensive machinery sat dormant.
As for the workers, most of the mech technicians walked back and forth in a daze. They counted their inventory for the umpteenth time or simply sat back and played some games over their comms.
"As you can see, our state-of-the-art production equipment will be able to handle anything you can throw at it, including your wonderful Blackbeak design." Neverland bragged, who willfully ignored all of his idle personnel. "Don't think we are worse than others for maintaining only four production lines, the production speed of these machines will surely be a feast for your eyes!"
Ves didn't recognize the individual production models, but all of the printers, compressors, CTMs and assembly systems looked impressive enough to back his boasts. The EME should be able to produce enough bronze label Blackbeaks to meet demand, if only just.
As Neverland kept boasting about his production capabilities, Ves formed his own judgment on the man and his company. The EME must have landed in fairly dire straits. The fact that his negotiators insisted on retaining as much money as possible should be because the EME's creditors must be knocking on their doors.
If Ves looked closely, the personnel looked like they had already given up. They expected the EME to fold in a month or two, upon which they'd be free to work for someone else. They only stuck around because it would look bad on their records if they quit on their own accord.
"Thank you for allowing me a visit. You've been very candid to me. I appreciate that." Ves said to Neverland when they came to the end of their tour.
Neverland wiped some sweat from his brow. "I figured I wouldn't be able to hide anything from you. The EME is down on its luck, but we only need to shore over this difficult time before we can pick ourselves up. I hope you entrust the mass production of your Blackbeak design to us. Striker mechs and knight mechs have a lot in common, so we can instantly start production."
"I'll consider it carefully!"
Ves and Gavin returned to their shuttle. Now that they finished their field trips, the shuttle turned around to Dorum so that they could return to the hotel near Marcella's brokerage.
"Mr. Neverland is a desperate man." Gavin remarked after a moment of silence. "He's extremely eager to enter into a contract with us, more so than Mr. Yang of Vikaris Mechs."
At least Vikaris had been able to stay afloat by accepting a bunch of tiny short-term contracts. EME's vacant track record in this business segment made it much more difficult for it to do the same.
Still, that might change once people find out about their modern production equipment. EME just had to get past their acute dearth of liquidity.
"Mr. Neverland comes off rather fishy as well, but in a different way from Mr. Yang." Ves stated after thinking back on his visit. "He's a little too sincere, if you know what I mean."
"Do you think it's a calculated ploy to arouse your sympathy?"
"No, nothing like that. It's just that he genuinely loves the craft. His eyes light up whenever he talks about the Klemson or the Blackbeak."
"Then what are you apprehensive about?"
"I feel like Mr. Neverland wants to steal the secrets to the Blackbeak design." Ves concluded. "He'll come up with something identical or apply what he's learned from me to his own design once the EME is done with the contract."
"Oh. That sounds plausible. We probably shouldn't give them the opportunity to steal your hard work, then."
Ves shook his head. "If it's a choice between Vaun, Vikaris and EME, I'd pick the last one any time. Even if they're greedy, they're well worth the effort."
He already made his choice, and not just because he had a bad impression of Vaun and Vikaris. Gavin missed out on a couple of reasons which made EME the most suitable manufacturer for the LMC to collaborate.
Chapter 272
Out of the three mech manufacturers in consideration, Ves had already picked his favorite. Vaun Industrial and Vikaris Mechs both had their benefits, but Andar Neverland's Elemental Mech Engineering took the cake.
Unfortunately, his board didn't think so. When Ves returned to Marcella's conference room the next day, he encountered a bunch of bewildering stares as he laid out his choice.
Even Marcella seemed dumbfounded. "Ves, EME is the least attractive partner by far. They have the least amount of production lines and they pay out the least in terms of credits. It doesn't make any economic sense to go with the worst offer."
According to the licensing terms they negotiated up to this point, EME promised to pay the LMC only 2.5 million credits per Blackbeak. This contrasted sharply with the 3.5 million credits per mech offered by Vaun and a whopping 5 million credits per mech offered by Vikaris.
"If you've visited all of their production facilities with your own eyes, you'll know that EME is better than the rest. Mr. Neverland's company offers a number of benefits that the other two manufacturers won't be able to realize."
"Let's hear it then, Ves."
"First, and most importantly, quality control." Ves raised his finger to emphasize this priority. "Even though the bronze label Blackbeaks are our lowest tier products, they will still sell for at least 50 million credits per copy. Such a price demands we ensure that every mech is up to snuff."
The director from Bentheim shook his head. "That's not a sufficient reason to choose EME over Vaun. Certainly, the Haston-based Vikaris Mechs has a spotty track record in terms of quality, but Vaun has a lengthy track record of producing high quality mechs at an extremely fast rate of production. Right now, the spike in demand for the Blackbeak won't last, so it's imperative we push as many Blackbeaks into their hands before the hype runs out."
Most of the other directors agreed with his reasoning. Vaun Industrial possessed the scale and professionalism to meet any of their client's demands. With a seemingly endless amount of production lines spread over three massive complexes, they could increase their production on a dime if the Blackbeak turns out to be an enduringly popular model.
Ves shook his head. "Is Vaun able to maintain a consistent output? No doubt. Yet their production lines aren't configured in a way that brings out the best qualities of the Blackbeak. I designed my knight to be assembled one by one, which is the production method that EME used for their own mechs. It's a bit slower, I can admit that, but it preserves some of the craftsmanship the Blackbeak is intended to convey."
Nobody really understood his point. The goal of mass producing the Blackbeak was to produce as many copies as possible at the lowest price for a given level of quality. That Vaun used a matrix of production equipment to assemble their mechs should be to their benefit.
Marcella tried to explain the rationale to Ves. "The bronze label is meant to present accessibility and cost savings. It's okay if a couple of parts don't perform as expected. They also won't care about the craftsmanship put into their products. They simply want the best performance without going bankrupt."
"Vaun Industrial is a massive manufacturer as well." Someone else said. "If our most optimistic projections of the Blackbeak's demand turn out to be true, then EME will be hard-pressed to squeeze out more mechs than they are already pumping out. Four production lines don't amount to much."
"We can always contract a second manufacturer if needed." Ves waved away the excuse. "If the Blackbeak turns out to be a bestseller, then our negotiating power will obviously be higher than now. We'll easily be able to impose a higher licensing fee on our next partners."
His grandfather added a rare word of support. "Ves is correct. Right now, nobody is able to determine for certain whether the Blackbeak possesses any mass appeal. It's a mech that sells for a premium price, so even with all of the heightened interest in the model, we won't be selling thousands of copies at an instant."
Someone with a marketing background echoed those words. "A high level of attention doesn't automatically translate to a high number of sales. A new model like the Blackbeak still has to prove its worth in the field. The duel was a good start, but it's only a single incident. At this price level, many buyers will be reticent on purchasing an expensive mech without a substantial track record."
Not everyone agreed with that assessment. The board split in half whether the Blackbeak would sell the most at the start or down the line.
Marcella turned back to Ves. "You haven't finished laying out your reasons for choosing EME."
"Thank you, Marcella. Let me tell you the second reason."
He activated a projector and showed them all a summary of Andar Neverland's biography. At first glance, it didn't contain anything of interest, mainly due to the mech designer's continuous obsession with improving his Klemson striker design. He had never expanded his catalog with anything other than variants of the original Klemson.
"What are we supposed to look at?"
"When I visited EME and talked to Mr. Neverland, I noticed that he doesn't spend much time talking about his roots. He only briefly mentioned that he got his passion for Striker mechs from his mentor. Look at this biography. Can you spot who his mentor might be?"
"It's the Honorable Alazar Crux!"
"The Senior Mech Designer?"
"It's him!"
Everyone took notice of the illustrious name. Officially, the Bright Republic didn't retain any Master Mech Designers, so those at the rank of Senior pretty much called the shots. In the hierarchy of Bentheim mech designers, Alastar Crux pretty much sat near or at the top.
In turn, it was a big deal if the Honorable Mr. Crux mentored Andar Neverland.
"To be honest, I got the feeling that Mr. Neverland is only a passing student of Mr. Crux. A mentorship isn't as intimate as an apprenticeship." Ves cautioned them all. "Still, a definite link exists between the two. I can feel the subconscious pride radiating from Neverland whenever we speak."
"If Neverland only possesses a loose relationship with Crux, then how does that affect us?"
"The reason why Mr. Neverland is rather stubborn about the licensing fees is because he doesn't actually feel much urgency to go into bed with us. If worst comes to worst, he can go back to his mentor and beg for a bailout. The only reason he hasn't done so yet is because it would be a humiliating stain on his record."
"And that matters because...?"
Ves raised his palm. "It matters because if we're able to tide the EME past their liquidity crisis, we'll be doing both Mr. Neverland and the Honorable Mr. Crux a favor. Don't forget that a failing former student also reflects badly on Crux. After all, couldn't he have brought up Mr. Neverland in a better fashion?"
The mech industry judged mech designers who started their own businesses with a different standard than eccentrics that only pumped out designs all day.
The success of a mech company reflected well on a mech designer. After all, if his designs generated a lot of sales, then that meant the mech designer must be good. Vice versa, if sales plummeted for some reason, then the mech designer must be awful.
In a sense, Andar Neverland wasn't a good mech designer because his Klemson design couldn't compete against the mainstream models in the same class. Ves took what happened to Neverland as a cautionary tale of depending too much on a single design line.
Someone asked the critical question. "Will the Honorable Mr. Crux actually acknowledge our efforts if we aid Mr. Neverland?"
Nobody truly knew the answer. Perhaps the old man never took notice of the troubles his former student accrued. Still, Ves believed that Crux cared a lot about his reputation, especially since he had reached the zenith of what a mech designer could achieve in the Republic.
"Don't forget that Mr. Crux is highly influential in the upper echelons of the mech industry." His grandfather added. "He's not only a professor emeritus of the Ansel University of Mech Design, but he also sits on the Bentheim Mech Court."
A couple of people nodded seriously. Even though the MTA oppressively interfered with the trade and use of mechs, the Bright Republic also maintained their own regulatory systems. The Bentheim Mech Court was the ultimate arbiter of disputes between mech designers and mech pilots in the Bentheim region.
Beyond issuing rulings between quarreling parties, the Bentheim Mech Court also worked closely with the government and the Mech Corps in other matters.
Most importantly, the Mech Court decided who to draft and where to allocate them in the event of war. Thus, having Crux owe Ves a favor might contribute to a cushy assignment once the latest Bright-Vesia War broke out.
Even if the board didn't care about his posting, they did care a lot about the future of the LMC in the event of war. The Mech Court also worked closely with administration to determine which mech manufacturers deserved support and which companies should be left out in the lurch.
The discussion basically ended at that point. Opportunities to establish a connection with a Senior Mech Designer didn't come very often. Ves wanted to seize the moment and sign a contract before anyone else heard about the hole the EME had fallen into. They lucked out when Neverland approached them first.
Certainly, not everyone agreed to the decision to rule out Vaun Industrial, but the board could squawk all they wanted. Even without his grandfather's support, he could make whatever decisions he wished as long as he held a majority of the LMC's shares.
Ves left the conference room with an upbeat pace. Marcella followed him out with an expression of doubt.
"I'm not sure you made the right choice there, Ves." She said, "It's rather optimistic to expect gratitude from Crux. The man can be a bit of a codger. It's doubtful whether he'll bother to return the favor at some later point in the future at all."
"You're right, but remember that's only one of the reasons why I chose to go with EME. Out of all the manufacturers in consideration, only EME has the heart to appreciate mechs. The other two manufacturers merely see their production as a means to an end. That's not compatible with the LMC's philosophy."
Marcella blew out her lungs in exasperation. "Philosophy doesn't mean anything compared to cold hard cash. Don't get caught up too much in your marketing speak. Make sure your company is able to earn a profit before you chase after unicorns."
Her words reflected a vast amount of experience seeing many mech designers fail due to trying to fulfill a fanciful goal, to the point of running their businesses to the ground. Ves was aware of those examples, but he had his own principles to uphold.
"A mech designer has to be flexible sometimes, but those who go too far and abandon all proprietary design end up as outcasts. I don't want to become a person who mindlessly chases after profits."
He bid goodbye to Marcella and left the brokerage with Gavin. He relayed a number of instructions through his assistant. The LMC had to conclude its negotiations with EME and finalize a contract at the end of the week. Ves wanted production to start as fast as possible and he didn't see any point in dancing around the issue any longer.
"I'll deliver my design for the bronze label Blackbeak as well. I want every formality to be done by the time we sign the contract."
The LMC had a lot to do. Ves still needed to fabricate nineteen gold label Blackbeaks in order to fulfill the orders he received during his debut. Ves hoped to proliferate his best mechs as widely as possible so that more people would hear about its strengths.
"The war also isn't very far away from breaking out. The Vesians can begin their invasion at any time."
Once the Vesians pulled the trigger, all hell would break loose.
Chapter 273
The LMC moved quickly in the next couple of days. They hammered out an agreement with Elemental Mech Engineering while Ves finished deriving the silver label and bronze label versions of the original Blackbeak design.
Both of the mechs featured near-identical specs to the gold label version. Ves mainly simplified the complicated sculptured exterior into straight, smooth surfaces that wouldn't be as much of a challenge to produce.
More specifically, he tweaked the silver label Blackbeak to go well with the Dortmund printer. He knew the capabilities of his equipment best, so he could easily retain any features that his company could still achieve on their own.
On the other hand, the bronze label Blackbeak truly represented a simplification of the original design. He not simplified the exterior even further, he also adjusted the internals to reduce the rate of errors.
For both designs, Ves did his best to retain their original X-Factor. Even though they'd lose much of their strength during the fabrication process, Ves still saw hope of some spark of survival in his products.
That was also an important factor why he went with EME. They offered the best hope of keeping the X-Factor alive.
He did his work on the flight back to Cloudy Curtain. Ves saw no need to remain at Bentheim. He wanted to get back to the workshop and start on processing his latest orders as soon as possible.
Three days later, the Barracuda landed at his home planet's spaceport. Ves and his entourage entered an armored shuttle that brought him back home.
He idly played with Lucky while Melkor stared out of the viewscreen. Meanwhile, Gavin quietly corresponded with the office the LMC recently established in Bentheim.
For now, the branch in Bentheim focused on marketing and liaising with EME. Ves expected the branch to hire a lot of people to manage all of the responsibilities on its shoulders.
That reminded Ves of Raella's lengthy absence. "Where is Raella now?"
"She's having the time of her life, I bet." Melkor sighed, rubbing his visor with his palm. "Her parents won't approve of her boyfriend. Dietrich isn't exactly an upstanding citizen."
Ves shared his cousin's concerns. "I don't get what Raella sees in him. She can do much better."
Neither of them really understood girls, so they merely scratched their heads and remained clueless.
At least they understood mechs. Ves turned his attention back to his designs. The silver label and bronze label designs acquired the code names BP-B-01 and BP-C-01 respectively, making it clear where they placed in the hierarchy of the Blackbeak product line.
"Melkor, you've been keeping touch with the other Larkinsons in our generation, right?"
"I am. What do you want to know?"
"What do they think about the upcoming war?"
"It's an opportunity to make their mark." Melkor stated, as if the horrors of war meant nothing to him. "We've been raised on the stories of our parents and grandparents about the glory they earned from the battlefields of yesterday."
"So you think it's your turn now. Aren't you all afraid of losing your lives along the way?"
"If we die, we die. No Larkinson has shied away from death." Melkor stiffly declared. "It's our greatest responsibility to fight on behalf of the family and the Republic. No matter how tough it gets, we will never falter."
Ves had never undergone the kind of training that the potentates in his family had received. He found the blind devotion a little disconcerting.
It reminded him of Barley's unyielding loyalty to the Exilis Domain.
Sometimes, it was easy to forget that mechs depended on their human pilots. It didn't matter if a state boasted huge numbers of high quality mechs. Without a motivated fighting force, all of those mechs would collapse at the first blow.
In the endless wars that had been fought during the Age of Mechs, plenty of upsets had occurred. There were even times when a loose alliance of third-rate states had turned the tables against a technologically and numerically superior second-rate state.
These examples showcased the importance of raising everyone's morale. Ves realized for the first time how deep his family had committed to the Republic, and how much he missed out due to his inability to pilot mechs.
The shuttle eventually arrived at the workshop. Ves strode straight to the workshop with Lucky in his grasp.
"The boss is back!"
"Congratulations for your win, boss!"
The mech technicians laid down their work and applauded Ves like a hero who achieved glory on the battlefield. Ves considered these men and women to be his closest employees, so he took his time to smile and speak some words about his experience.
Eventually, he sent them back to work called over Carlos and Chief Cyril.
"I heard about the licensing thing from the administration." Chief Cyril spoke first. "Are you truly willing to let the Blackbeak be produced by someone else?"
"Missing out on those potential sales is even worse. It's best if we can do everything in-house, but if not then there's nothing wrong with leaning on a third-party manufacturer. These kinds of arrangements happen all the time."
Chief Cyril shook his head. "They happen all the time, alright, but they don't always end well. Mechs are highly complicated products that require the right equipment and the right people to produce. I can tell you a dozen horror stories at the top of my head where mech designers got duped by unscrupulous manufacturers."
"We've done our due diligence." Ves replied. "The contract we signed with EME is also fairly strict about these matters. They won't get away if they decide to pull the wool over our eyes."
EME's persisted in keeping their licensing fees as low as possible. Perhaps aware that their offer wouldn't be attractive, their negotiators relented on everything else, so long as it didn't lower their potential earnings.
"About those contract terms, I'm going to need a senior hand to keep an eye on their production." Ves pointed at Carlos. "You're it."
"Why me?!"
"Because Chief Cyril is indispensable. I need him to watch over my workshop. As for the other mech technicians, they're too junior to be of any value. That leaves only you. You're my best man. I won't have any concerns about EME if I know you're there."
Carlos slumped in defeat. "Okay, you're right. I'll do it then, but I don't want to be stuck there forever. I already did a stint at quality control, I don't want to end up doing the same job again."
Ves weighed the matter for a bit. "Two months should be long enough. By that time, they'll have gotten used to the standards I've imposed. We can set a regular rotation where some of our local mech technicians get to go on an extended trip to Bentheim to take over your duties."
"I'm not sure whether they're seasoned enough to spot any funny business, but that sounds like a good idea." Chief Cyril nodded in agreement. "Our mech technicians haven't seen much of how far mech manufacturing can go. Allowing them to experience a bigger company's production facilities will do wonders in broadening their perspectives."
Even though EME had idled all of their production, Ves still got a good impression of their work methods. Andar Neverland cared a lot about his mechs, to the point of going deep in depth to upgrade and expand his fabrication equipment. Unable to come up with something better than his Klemson design, he instead focused on improving his production lines.
"Hopefully, everyone will be able to get a turn. I hope the LMC will be able to expand its production lines in the same manner as the EME."
Chief Cyril bumped Ves on the head. "Mr. Neverland is how many years old now? He's been in the business for at least thirty years. You've got a lot more potential than him when he was your age. Aim for something higher."
Ves appreciated the vote of confidence. The chief also reminded him that he shouldn't get too caught up in the present. The Blackbeak was merely the first of many amazing products coming from his hand.
"Alright, enough dilly-dallying around!" He clapped. "Let's get to work with fabricating those gold label mechs!"
Everyone released a minor cheer. Even though most of the mech technicians wouldn't be doing anything important, they would still get to witness their boss at work. Ves also hoped his mech technicians paid attention because he planned to sell only silver label Blackbeaks under his own company's auspices from this point onwards.
While Ves started pulling up his sleeves, light-years away from Cloudy Curtain, something momentous occurred in the depths of interstellar space.
A small convoy of trade vessels escorted by a trio of mercenary carriers quietly plied the trade routes between the Bright Republic and its neighbors. Trading directly between the Republic and the Kingdom was prohibited, but a lot of traders got around that restriction by stopping by a couple of neutral states before they reached their destination.
The convoy transitioned into FTL a couple of days ago, and had reached the midpoint of their final leg of their journey to the port system of Bentheim. At the head of the convoy flew the biggest carrier, the Calcardon.
The carrier owed her size due to her origins as a decommissioned cargo hauler. A Republican mercenary corps called the Barbed Lynxes bought the old vessel at a bargain and converted her interior to hold a mix of land bound and spaceborne mechs.
The Barbed Lynxes did well for themselves after they acquired the larger vessel. Although the Calcardon's speed left a lot to be desired, she excelled in convoy missions where she escorted fully-laden trade vessels as sluggish as the converted carrier.
Inside the bridge, the captain of the ship yawned in boredom. "Nothing ever happens on this trade route. Where have all the pirates gone?"
"Knock it off, Captain Spencer. You're tempting fate with your talk. I'd rather we finish our mission without a fight."
"Oh, come on Commander Leife, I was just joking. It's just that you hear about the pirates stalking the trade routes and ambushing anyone who emerges into a remote system. It makes my hair stand on ends for months now."
The old gray-haired commander crossed her arms. "I'm close to retirement already. I'd like to get out of this business by the end of the year and leave the Komodo StarSector before everything sinks into chaos. I'd appreciate it if you don't test our luck."
"Aye aye, commander!" The captain saluted her in a lazy manner.
Not a lot of officers manned the bridge right now. Nothing ever happened to the Calcardon during FTL unless the crew messed something up. Half the consoles faced empty seats.
An alert sounded out from one of the consoles. The officer in charge of sensors and communications woke up from his daze and blearily looked at the alert the Calcardon sent out. "Skipper, the gravitic sensors are glitching out again. They're telling me that we're about to enter a planet's gravity well!"
Captain Spencer adjusted his captain's hat and sat up straight from his seat. He pulled up projections of the sensor readings in front of him. "Goddamn those yard monkeys. I told them to replace the sensor modules! They must have polished up the old ones while billing us the cost of installing some new ones! Those scam artists!"
"Uhm, skipper? What do I do about the sensor readings? Should we drop out of FTL as a precaution?"
"Out of the question! We'll have to halt the entire convoy as a result, and we have to wait for hours until our FTL drives go through their cycles. We'll also waste an enormous amount of fuel in the process. Remain in FTL. There aren't any planets or star systems on this route.."
The junior officer reluctantly dropped his caution, but his console suddenly lit up as the Calcardon received a number of messages from the other ships in the convoy.
"Skipper! The other ships report that they're detecting a gravity well in front of us too! We're getting dangerously close now!"
This finally woke the captain up. "Damn it! Some kind of stellar mass must have wandered into our route! Commander Leife, our FTL drives aren't calibrated to swing past that gravity well!"
"Then stop the convoy! Pull us out of FTL!"
After the commander passed the word, the entire convoy lurched out of FTL and transitioned into realspace. They drifted about aimlessly, half-clueless why they had to interrupt their sleepy journey.
Inside the bridge of the Calcardon, the captain called the entire crew to battle stations. Officers poured in from the hatch and hopped behind the empty consoles. They all furiously worked to figure out what happened.
"Skipper!" An officer called. "We've analyzed the sensor readings. According to our calculations, we're five light-hours away from a rogue planet!"
The captain cursed for a bit. Rogue planets basically consisted of planets that had been knocked away from their solar systems for some reason or another and traversed a wandering path, sometimes interfering with FTL travel. Most of the time, these rogue planets consisted of frozen rocks of gas giants.
"Sir... new readings have come in! The planet is glowing! If our analysis is correct, the entire planet is riddled with exotics!"
That single announcement changed everything.
Chapter 274
The entire convoy went up in arms about the sudden discovery.
Cargo ships and carriers converted from cargo ships generally didn't possess great sensors. If they all detected strong readings of exotics at a distance of five light-hours, then the planet up ahead must be riddled with highly active exotic substances.
So high, in fact, that it must be worth as much as the gross domestic product of an average third-rate state like the Bright Republic.
Commander Leife, the woman in charge of the convoy, convened a hasty conference among the ship captains and senior mercenary officers.
She gazed at the eyes of Captain Spencer before glancing at the various projections of the other men and women. Almost every ship belonged to a different owner, complicating her efforts to rein in their impulses.
She reserved the most wary looks to the other two mercenary commanders in the convoy. Both of them rode in medium-sized carriers that would be able to overwhelm the Calcardon if they teamed up against the Barbed Lynxes.
"First things first. You all shut off your quantum entanglement nodes, right? It's not enough to flip a switch. I hope you all disconnected the hardware from the rest of your ships."
All of the captains nodded seriously. They all knew that as soon as they discovered something valuable, the first thing they had to do was to prevent it from spreading all over the galactic net.
Turning off their quantum entanglement nodes had been their first or second actions upon receiving word of the momentous discovery.
"Alright folks, we all know why we're here. Let's talk about the Glowing Planet."
They called it the Glowing Planet, for its very visible luminescence that lit up the planet like a star. At this distance, it could be spotted from the naked eye, which was very rare for a rogue planet drifting in the middle of interstellar space with no nearby star to reflect its surface.
It was as if a juicy pheasant decided to put on a coat of bright lights to make it more attractive to other predators that wanted a taste of its flesh.
Captain Spencer began to summarize the estimates the entire convoy had made so far. "The Glowing Planet is about the size of a small planet or a large moon. We're not quite sure if it started off as the former or the latter before it got pushed out of its star system. Whatever the case, the trauma of the event has warped the planet to the point of tearing up its entire shape."
A projection appeared of the Glowing Planet in question. The planet took on a slight egg-like shape as if it had been stretched by a pair of god-sized hands. The stretching caused the entire crust of the planet to crack, which inadvertently revealed rich deposits of exotics.
A mercenary officer rudely interrupted the briefing. "Let's skip all of the nerdy stuff and get to the real question that matters. How valuable are those deposits?"
"Not as much as you'd think." Captain Spencer cautioned. "The planet likely originated from the galactic heartland instead of the galactic center, so it mostly contains junk exotics."
Everyone's faces started to fall. So-called junk exotics referred to valuable materials that ranked at the bottom of the hierarchy of exotic materials. While they held significant value in even smaller quantities, they couldn't be relied on to construct a quality mech without pairing them up with other, more valuable exotics.
That said, the planet still represented a floating mound of cash in space. Captain Spencer passed around a list of exotics they detected so far. "There isn't anything exciting in this list, but what's notable is that all of these exotics are getting harder to import from the other Star Sectors. This means that the Friday Coalition and the Hexadric Hegemony will be sending out a massive fleet to secure the Glowing Planet as soon as they hear about its existence."
That sent many of the people present in a tizzy. The two dominant second-rate states of the Komodo Star Sector often took what it wanted by force.
Commander Leife already made her decision. "Considering the spotty history of those two states, I suggest we don't sell the coordinates of the planet to either of them. The planet is valuable, yes, but not so much that they will feel obliged to thank us for the tip."
None of them objected to her decision. The Hexadric Hegemony was famously hostile to outsiders while the Coalition was too fractured to present a united front. Some of the more despotic partners might even decide to kill them all off in order to keep the coordinates under wraps.
"Who can we turn to then to sell the coordinates of the Glowing Planet?"
The question resulted in a brief tug-of-war as the captains and mercenary officers proposed various possible powers. Complicating the matter was that nearly every ship in the convoy came from different states. This allowed them to cross various borders without problem, but it also complicated the decision on who to approach.
Commander Leife personally preferred to sell the coordinates to the Bright Republic, but another captain who hailed from the Vesia Kingdom insisted on approaching them instead. Various rivalries came to the fore as each captain wanted to take this opportunity to earn kudos from their home states.
"This is getting nowhere." Captain Spencer slammed the table with his fist. "I don't think we'll be able to sell it to a single state without pissing someone off. Who can tell if any disgruntled captain won't go behind our backs and reconnect their quantum entanglement nodes again?"
"Then who should we sell it to?"
"Maybe someone neutral, like the MTA or CFA. They maintain a standard policy concerning these kinds of discoveries. They always keep their word."
"Yeah, but the rewards they hand out amount to nothing more than a pittance!"
Spencer nodded in a grave manner. "It's just a flat finder's fee instead of a percentage of the gains."
Nobody could hide the greed in their eyes. Who hadn't heard of stories where entire crews grew rich overnight by discovering a lucky find and negotiating a share of the profits of the resulting venture?
It was one of the stories that always perpetuated into legends. Every space farer hoped to stumble onto a find like the Glowing Planet.
Some of the more conservative captains expressed support at the idea of approaching the MTA or CFA, but others who wanted a bigger payout clung on to alternatives. The entire discussion reached a deadlock, with no possible compromise in sight.
Commander Leife tiredly rubbed her eyes. She knew as well as anyone present that if they tried to impose a decision, that there'd be rebels who would secretly try to sell the information behind their backs. None of the mercenary corps in the convoy maintained any significant security officers aboard the cargo transports to maintain sufficient control.
"Alright, this is clearly getting nowhere." She said, interrupting the latest argument between two rival ship captains. "Instead of picking one state over the other, why not sell the coordinates to as many states as we can? Heck, it doesn't even have to be a state. Sell it to a major corporation or a pirate group, I don't care."
"That's a great idea." A rival mercenary commander remarked. "We can all earn our paydays because the people who we are trading with won't want to let the other states know about the coordinates."
"We can't keep selling the same coordinates over and over to anyone we approach. The people who are negotiating on behalf of their states aren't stupid. They'll force us to sign a non-disclosure agreement."
"Then make it clear that you're only selling the coordinates on behalf of your own ship or mercenary corps! That will surely hasten their urgency, since the longer they try to stall, the sooner their rivals will send out a fleet."
That last bit proved to be a little bit controversial, but eventually everyone adopted the idea. Without a central leader to impose total control, it was best to let the individual leaders try to earn their own paydays.
As soon as the meeting ended, every captain scrambled to reconnect their quantum entanglement nodes. Aboard the Calcardon, Captain Spencer already left the conference room in order to race down the decks to supervise the procedure.
As for Commander Leife, sent a mental apology to her home state. The Glowing Planet had recently drifted into the nominal borders of the Bright Republic, and would only depart from their territory a couple of years later.
With the heightened state of tension between the Republic and the Kingdom, she suspected that this discovery might end up being the spark that blew up the tentative peace between the two. She felt as if she betrayed her home.
"I'm sorry, but I just want to earn a fair share."
While the convoy started to sell the valuable coordinates of the Glowing Planet, back at Cloudy Curtain, Ves proceeded to reduce his backlog of orders.
He wiped the sweat from his brow as he left the cockpit of his latest Blackbeak. He fabricated it in record time, having managed to reduce the time needed to complete a copy down to two days instead of the three he needed from the start.
Of the entire fabrication process, Ves always loved the very end, where he entered the cockpit in order to affix the gold labels underneath the center console and affix one of Lucky's gems in place.
He could have left the job to a simple bot, but Ves enjoyed the personal interaction between himself and his mechs. Every machine he completed in this manner solidified the direction of his nascent design philosophy.
Slowly but surely, Ves began to lean towards a lifelong quest to maximize the value out of every single mech produced from his hand.
"How many mechs have I made so far?"
"This is the tenth copy out of the current batch." Chief Cyril answered as he arranged to transport the newly completed mech from the workshop. "You've got nine more to go before you're done."
Less than a month had passed since the duel. Much had changed since that time. The outcome of the duel had far-reaching effects for the LMC.
First, the Blackbeak proved to be an enduring success. When mech portals managed to get their hands on the rare and exclusive gold label Blackbeaks, they gave out universally positive reviews. Even if their price leaned on the higher side, the gold label mechs remained consistently in reasonably high demand.
Unfortunately for Ves, the bronze label versions received a mixed reception. The first copies of the Blackbeaks fresh off the EME's production lines proved to be rather rough. Neverland's company faced a stiffer learning curve than they expected due to the difficulty of working with the alloys used to form the Veltrex armor system.
EME actually lost more money than they gained due to being forced to replace the defective armor plating after they already sold the mechs.
Ves silently cursed the greedy Mr. Neverland. If the third-party manufacturer had caught the defects before they sold the mechs, they would have been able to recycle the faulty plating and recoup the majority of the costs. But no, Mr. Neverland skimmed on the quality control in order to cash in as quickly as possible.
"How is Carlos doing at EME? Has he finally managed to get a grip on their quality control?"
"He's been trying." Chief Cyril replied. He regularly kept in touch with Carlos in order to mentor him about how to enact changes without being too direct. "It's difficult to suggest any meaningful changes without stepping on their toes. Neverland is very self-absorbed for a mech designer, but what works for his Klemsons doesn't always fit with the Blackbeaks. Their armor systems are just too different from each other."
Ves considered laying down his work to take another trip to Bentheim. "Carlos has to find a way to get Mr. Neverland to listen."
"That's a tall order for Carlos. Neverland isn't inclined to listen to a failed mech designer."
"The man should know that Carlos speaks on my behalf. I expressly insisted in the contract that the EME should seriously consider any suggestions made by any liaisons we send out."
"Good luck trying to enforce those terms without pissing Mr. Neverland off."
Despite his grumbles, Ves was reasonably content with the arrangement. He already expected some hiccups at the start.
The EME already managed to produce a total of thirty mechs since the LMC extended the license to them. That was already far more than what the LMC could achieve at its best. The third-party manufacturer's four production lines pumped out enough mechs to satisfy the most urgent demand for now.
Quality went up with each additional mech they produced as well. Reviews started to turn positive again, to the point where demand for the model increased.
It would have been better if Dumont didn't come back from the dead.
Chapter 275
Ves took a small break after finishing up the latest mech. After that, he stopped by the office to speak with Gavin about the competition.
"How is Dumont doing these days?"
"He's very aggressive in trying to sell the Havalax." Gavin replied, and called up a projection of the ads that had popped up recently. "If you look closely, most of the ads emphasize Havalax's amazing price-performance ratio. The standard price has dropped to 50 million credits, but a number of buyers are taking advantage of discounts that can go as deep as ten percent off."
The aggressive promotion coupled with the heavy discounts and price cuts served to slow the bleeding of Dumont's company. After losing a whole bunch of orders after losing the duel, the rival mech designer actually gained enough new orders to sell as many mechs as he could produce.
"I guess a month is long enough for memories of the duel to fade. If you leave out its recent history, the Havalax is a pretty decent design, so I shouldn't be surprised that it's starting to sell again." Ves disgruntledly concluded. "Still, its production costs should be higher than the Blackbeak. I'm nearly certain that he's making a loss if he sells his mechs for 45 million credits."
"It's not about making a profit at this point. Dumont is trying to make everyone forget about the duel by putting as many copies of his Havalax in circulation as possible. All the stories his buyers spread as a result will slowly push away the past into obscurity."
Clearly, Dumont's strategy worked. He had essentially overwritten the collective memories of the public with a more positive message about his mechs.
The revitalized competition forced the LMC to up their game and boost their marketing. They already coordinated with Marcella to flood the Bentheim region in all kinds of promotions that raised the profile of the bronze label and silver label Blackbeaks.
The sad thing about it was that the LMC spent far more on these campaigns than what they got back from the EME in licensing fees.
"That's going to change in a couple of months." Gavin predicted. "The marketing is a bit heavy-handed because the public has only heard about your exclusive gold label mechs, which are very hard to obtain. We still have to let the market know that there are cheaper and more abundant alternatives available."
Ves didn't argue about the need to invest in marketing. He simply found it disconcerting to be throwing millions of credits away each day.
Still, unlike Dumont's company, the LMC earned far more money than they spent. Much of it could also be attributed to their new contract with Marcella. She kept her word and devoted a lot of her own money in helping to promote the Blackbeak.
"By the way, Calsie's been wanting to meet with you. A lot has changed on this planet as well."
Ah. With all of his attention directed to Bentheim, Ves forgot about his backyard. He did hear a few things from his employees on how Cloudy Curtain felt a lot of pride for his recent achievements. Still, he didn't hear too much beyond that considering he holed himself up in his workshop trying to finish his batch of orders as quickly as possible.
He nodded to Gavin. "Send her to my office. It's about time I received an update on the situation on the ground."
Ves took care of a couple of other matters, like feeding an increasingly radiant Lucky. He could clearly feel his pet had almost reached the point of saturation before he triggered another evolution.
"Eat well, but not too much, okay? I'd still like to cuddle you in my arms once in a while."
"Meow!"
Lately, there hadn't been many threats for Lucky to take care of. The security detachment from Sanyal-Ablin easily took care of the occasional fans and crazies trying to sneak into the workshop. They also caught and disabled most of the microscoping spy drones sent in their way.
Fortunately, Lucky possessed keen enough senses to sniff out the remainder that proved to be too advanced for the workshop's current security suite to detect. Ves held off on upgrading his security package until the company moved to a larger site.
Ves winked at his pet before heading to his office. The cramped office attached to the workshop building became increasingly more crowded lately as the company started to do more than making and selling mechs.
It gladdened him to see he built his company up to the point where it could be called a genuine medium mech manufacturer. If Ves factored in the EME, then the goal of selling more than a thousand mechs in the LMC's second fiscal year would definitely be met.
"Ves! It's been some time since I last saw you."
"Haha, my apologies for that. I've been busy, as you know. Have you finished your studies yet?"
"Yup. I wasn't able to rush my courses as fast as Gavin, but I'm all done now!"
"That's great to hear. Even if Maisie Duval has taken over much of your duties, I still prefer to deal with someone I trust like you. I'll be depending on you to keep an eye on our home planet."
Ves rarely talked to his managers these days. Jake and Primrose kept everything running smoothly without his input, just as he intended. He didn't wish to be bothered by trivial minutiae that his underlings could take care of by themselves. He was far more comfortable in the workshop than the conference room.
He only made an exception for Gavin and Calsie. They were around the same age and they had been with him from the start, so Ves didn't feel the need to watch his words around the two.
"Let me brief you on what's happening on the streets."
Calsie handed him a data pad that contained a mix of local news articles. They all profiled the shift in public opinion with regards to Ves and the LMC.
"THE LIVING MECH CORPORATION: A HOMEGROWN SENSATION - PUTTING CLOUDY CURTAIN ON THE MAP."
"TOTAL MECH MANIA AS ENGULFED THE YOUNGER GENERATION! MECH HATERS MUST GET LOST!"
"FRESLIN HAS OVERTAKEN ORINOCO AS CLOUDY CURTAIN'S TRENDIEST CITY - MECH FANATICS FLOCK TO THE HOMETOWN OF VES."
"THE POLITICAL WINDS HAVE TURNED! THE GREENS AND THE WHITE DOVES ARE AT WIT'S END!"
That last headline seemed especially important. "Tell me about the people at the top. Is the ruling coalition still thinking about raising taxes?"
"They shelved those plans for an indefinite time right after you won your duel." Calsie reported. "You don't have to worry about any new threats on that front. You and your company have pretty much become the public mascots of our planet. It's political suicide to propose any bill that hinders the growth of the LMC."
The LMC didn't pay much taxes to the local government, so it didn't actually benefit the local citizens directly. Maybe a couple of years from now, the LMC's profits might reach the point where it represented a significant chunk of Cloudy Curtain's GDP.
Still, the citizens mainly cared about pride. The LMC became the planet's standard bearer in a way the two major farming consortiums achieved. Calsie showed him plenty of indicators that noted this change of heart among the public.
"That's good to hear." Ves nodded. While he didn't need the public's love, it certainly didn't hurt to benefit from it. "What about the Pioneers? I've only been hearing good things from them lately."
Calsie had a strong connection to the Pioneers, so she should know best what went on with them these days. "The Pioneers recently became embroiled in a power struggle. The old guard wanted to stay aloof while the younger members supported more proactive policies."
"I take it the latter won the power struggle?"
"Yup. Most of those stubborn old goats got booted out of the member rolls by the new leadership that swept into power. Some of them retired, but a significant chunk defected to the White Doves."
"Is that bad?"
"Not really." Calsie dismissed any worries. "Sure, they know a lot of secrets, but by now most of what they know is obsolete. The Pioneers have transformed into a dynamic young movement now. And you can bet their main priorities is to see the LMC grow, thereby dragging the rest of the planet out of its squalor."
"That's a bit strong, don't you think? People are hardly starving on the streets."
"Neither are they finding any better opportunities. Lots of farmers are doing the same work their parents did, who in turn have taken over the work of their own parents. Social mobility is practically glacial compared to the glitzy Bentheim!"
Ves became a little worried at Calsie's enthusiasm. "Bentheim isn't the best role model for a planet you want to live on. The best cities like Dorum and Ansel cost a fortune to live in. Some time ago, I promised my cousin Melinda a penthouse in downtown Dorum. Do you know how much money I ended up spending? 15 million credits!"
"Still, the suburbs are-"
"It's even worse there. Places like Haston have become notorious for the breakdown in society there. It's not a coincidence the Bentheim Liberation Movement initially rose up from that town."
"Look, Ves, that all sounds worrisome, but Cloudy Curtain is not about to turn into a second Bentheim. With smart leadership at the helm, we'll surely be able to swim past the rocks in the river."
"Aspirations like that have a tendency to be derailed." He shook his head. "Anyway, it's not my business to meddle with the Pioneers. They have nothing to do with me."
"Your relations department doesn't think so. They've been cautiously discussing some cooperative initiatives with the Pioneers."
Ves forgot about that. He ordered the relations department to maintain friendly ties with the local power players. Mrs. Duval must have taken that as an order to move towards an informal alliance with whoever was willing to play ball.
"Look, no offense, Calsie, but I don't trust the Pioneers, even if they have a new coat of paint. It's not in the LMC's interests to get in bed with someone who can have a change of heart the next day."
"If you say so, sir."
This discussion went nowhere as well, so they quickly changed the topic. Still, Ves reminded himself to check with his chief relations officer and make it clear he wanted the LMC to remain neutral.
"What else is on the agenda?"
"There are plans to expand to a new site. Several architects in collaboration with Sanyal-Ablin have selected a suitable site further away from Freslin and drew up a final architectural plan."
Calsie handed out another data pad, this time a thicker one with more enhanced security features. Ves actually had to authenticate his identity before he got to look at the drawings of the new manufacturing complex.
If Ves had to describe it, he'd call it ambitious. The schematics of the exterior defenses
reminded him of the star-shaped walls of the forward base on Groening IV. Sanyal-Ablin's influence could be felt throughout the architectural drawings. Everything had been designed to survive and repel a minor planetary raid.
"I see that much of the most important production occurs underground."
"That's correct." Calsie nodded. "As per your wishes, the surveyors have scanned and tested the terrain and found a site that provides a decent amount of buffer against limited orbital bombardment. It will hold out for a week at least."
Much of the construction above the ground consisted of gleaming office buildings that Ves intended to serve as the LMC's headquarters. Ves wouldn't have to deal with cramped corridors anymore by the time they moved into this new place.
Ves nodded in satisfaction after a couple of minutes. "I'm fairly satisfied with these plans. Still, it's obvious that I'll be paying a premium for all of this safety. What's the price tag?"
"Well, the architects have loosely estimated that it will take at least 500 million credits to construct the barebones version of the plans."
"Half a billion credits!"
His teeth already started to ache when he heard that sum. Just when he thought he could catch a break and rake in the profits, it turned out that he had to give the money away again if he wanted to prepare for the future. The LMC desperately needed to move out of their increasingly crowded location.
Chapter 276
A pair of light mechs matched blows against each other in a grungy underground mech arena. The skirmisher mech wielded a pair of knives while the swordsman mech wielded a single blade.
A rowdy crowd exulted in the reverberations of the high speed impacts between the dueling mechs. Only the thick but cracked and worn out transparent panels protected them from the splintering shards of plating that the mechs shaved off from each other.
One thing to note about the people was that they all wore similar color motifs. The lower ranked crowd wore red stripes with diagonal black lines. The ranks above that made do with armbands of the same look, while the handful of leaders at the top wore exotic alloy rings that glistened in alternating red and black.
More interestingly, the mechs, which featured the same coating of red with diagonal black stripes, consisted of outdated models. Neither their armor nor their speed could keep up with current gen mechs, but that also made them cheap and easy to fabricate on the fly.
From the reckless way in which they dueled, neither pilots gave a damn about conserving their machines. They danced at the edge of death in their reckless attempts to overpower their opposition.
"Come on Raella!" Dietrich hollered. "Go for Mackarel's left! He's half-blind in that direction!"
Like the others, he wore an armband bearing the colors of the Blood Claws, one of the most infamous gangs in Bentheim. Even though his main affiliation lay with Walter's Whalers, he answered to the same boss as the rest.
The skirmisher mech pulled out of the melee after leaving behind a criss cross of knife marks on the enemy mech. Raella's voice emerged from the speakers. "You're getting rather slow, aren't you?"
"I got much more in store for you than that, lassie!" The man inside the swordsman mech broadcasted as he urged his mech to pursue his opponent.
The swordsman mech hadn't fared very well so far. Its pilot was older and more experienced than Raella, but he couldn't match her in terms of technical skill.
Raella deftly swerved her borrowed skirmisher mech to dodge the incoming hack. Her mech went in to leave behind another nick, only for her mech to receive a punch that pushed it back.
"Get her, Mack! You can do it!"
"Watch out for the legs as well, girlie!"
That advice proved to be telling as Mackarel's mech lashed out in a dangerous flurry of kicks. Raella's mech barely dashed out of reach, and swiped its weapons forward to slice some layers off the extended leg before it drew back.
That last attack had bit a little deep, causing the swordsman mech to suffer from unsteady footing. Raella took advantage of her opponent's preoccupation and went all-in, shoving the unsteady sword aside before surgically stabbing the weak points of the vulnerable mech before it could recover.
A huge cheer sounded out as the swordsman mech practically lost all of its connections to its limbs. The hapless mech collapsed onto its back like a puppet with its strings cut off.
The ringleader enthusiastically announced the end of the duel. "And the winner is Raella Larkinson! She's shown herself to be as capable as her famous cousin Melinda, but prettier by far!"
The battered skirmisher mech opened its cockpit, allowing Raella to jump out and float down with her anti-grav clothes. She approached the cockpit of the fallen mech and waited for its cockpit to open up as well.
A grizzled man wearing an armband and covered in tribal tattoos climbed out of his immobilized mech. He shook his head, trying to recover from the trauma of being inside a mech that fell onto its back. "If all the Larkinsons are like you, no wonder your family's so renowned."
"If you think I'm a big deal, you should see my uncle Ark."
They shook hands, showing no hard feelings for each other. The hierarchy of the Blood Claws largely revolved around strength. They respected any man or woman who had the skills to back up their talk, and Raella proved herself in spades.
The young woman quietly shook her head. Even though she trounced a cadre of the Blood Claws, she'd still be known as Melinda's relative. Her cousin in the Planetary Guard had become a planet-wide phenomenon recently after she somehow made it through a grueling duel against a captain of the Mech Corps.
Raella returned to the stands while the arena operators hauled away the mechs. Once she reached Dietrich's side, he held out her hand. "Gimme my cut."
Even as he handed over a credit chip, Dietrich swept the woman in his arms and engulfed her in a kiss.
"Get off! I'm sweaty!" Raella punched her handsome boyfriend away with her strong physique.
"I don't care, babe. The more sweat, the better."
Dietrich kept grinning at her as he attempted to keep the feisty woman in his embrace. Raella didn't appreciate being treated like a doll and forcefully punched his stomach until he finally let go.
The Blood Claw members sitting besides them laughed at the spectacle. "Can't control your woman, Dietrich?"
"Oh shut up Tumra. I don't see you with a girl anywhere."
"That's because I have a different one in my bed every night!"
Despite the crude talk and occasional roughhousing, Raella enjoyed her time with the Blood Claws. Even though she knew the Blood Claws did a lot of shady stuff out of sight, Dietrich's presence opened up a lot of doors, while her strength earned her a lot of respect.
The pair remained in the arena and watched the other fights that followed.
Not all of the pilots consisted of Blood Claw members. A fair amount used to be mercenaries or mech athletes who fell into debt. The only way they could earn back their pay was to fight in an arena without rules.
Sometimes, the pilots played rough to the point of targeting the cockpits of their opponent's mech. The underground arena operated by the Blood Claws didn't care about fatalities as long as it didn't involve their own members.
In fact, Raella has already witnessed three fatalities so far. Compared to her initial revulsion at the sight of death when she accompanied Ves to Moira's Paradise, this time she had grown hardened enough to shrug off any sympathies.
As the night went on into the wee hours, Raella started getting sleepy. She stood up and wanted to drag Dietrich back to their accommodation, but a sudden broadcast stopped her in her tracks.
The ongoing duel between a pair of fist fighting light mechs halted abruptly. Everyone dropped their conversations and no one moved a muscle as they recognized the voice.
The gruff, hoary voice of Monty the Beheader himself broadcasted in the arena and everywhere else the Blood Claws reigned over. "Are you having a good time? Are you enjoying yourselves? Then cut your vacation short, because we have a job to do. There's word out on the streets that there's a fabled rogue planet coasting along near the border of the Republic. They call it the Glowing Planet, and it's named that way because it's filled with so much riches that we can dine like kings until the heat death of the universe if we harvest it all."
The sudden news landed like a bomb. Like any gang, the Blood Claws loved nothing more than to acquire more wealth, by any means possible.
"The only downside is that every power in the Komodo StarSector got their hands on the coordinates of the Glowing Planet. The Bright Republic, The Vesia Kingdom, hell, even the uptight Coalition and Hegemony are aware of its location!"
Could they even compete if that had been the case?
"You might be thinking what the Glowing Planet has to do with us. Well, even if it's glowing like a bulb in space, it's hardly a pinprick compared to brown dwarfs. The lack of a star also makes it hard to zero in an FTL drive to the planet unless you get within a dozen light-years or so. Do you know what that means?"
Most of the Blood Claws scratched their heads. Stellar navigation had never been their strength.
"It means we're closest, and therefore get to be there first! Sure, the Mech Corps and the other gangs will be sending out their fleets as well, but the Glowing Planet is big enough to let everyone grab a piece of the pie!"
Now they understood what an opportunity this represented. Raella felt excited as well, even though she hadn't formally joined the Blood Claws. She looked to Dietrich, hoping to join in on the action, only to receive a stern gaze.
"This is far above our league, Raella." He whispered. "Something like this... there's going to be a lot of fighting."
"I've never shied away from a fight!"
"This is different from a duel! The entire planet will be engulfed with greedy mech pilots who won't be playing fair."
The voice of Monty resumed speaking. "Since everyone that matters already knows about the Glowing Planet, the big boys upstairs have hashed out an agreement. The Coalition and the Hegemony will both be preparing fleets of mech carriers to fight over the Glowing Planet. Since they're far away and need some time to mobilize their forces, they've given everyone else a carte blanche to mine away for seventy days."
A lot could be done in seventy days. Depending on the value of the exotic ores and how easily they could be extracted, a substantial mining expedition could easily harvest billions of credits worth of materials out of the ground.
The people in the arena grew stoked at the idea of picking up a fortune off the ground.
"Sharpen your claws and ready your mechs, because the Blood Claws will be grabbing a piece of the action! We set off in three days!"
As the broadcast ended, everyone went wild at the prospect of taking part in this enormous venture.
In the meantime, a lot had to be arranged. Monty's organization had to decide who to send and who to hold back to defend their territories. They had to prepare their carriers and acquire other ones to accomodate all of the mechs and mining equipment they intended to bring along.
The leaders already buzzed about as they received their own instructions. As for Raella, her eyes turned into swirls as she imagined the adventure of it all. She wanted to be part of the expedition. She stood up and climbed up the stands, heading straight towards the circle of leaders.
Dietrich hastily followed after his girlfriend. "Raella? Don't go up there! It's dangerous!"
The guards who stood in the way noticed her approach, but instead of halting her in her tracks, they wordlessly moved aside. Raella walked straight past their heavily-armored forms and drew attention from the older generation of Blood Claws.
A bald man wearing the biggest ring of red and black looked over her pilot-suited form. "Ah, we have a distinguished guest. Miss Raella Larkinson, what can we do for you?"
"I want in."
Dietrich finally reached her side and gripped her arm, but he didn't dare pull her back. He failed to stop her in time.
The bald man looked wordlessly at Raella while the other leaders waited for his decision. He only considered the matter for a couple of seconds before he nodded. "Why not? You're in."
The brief exchange of words had sealed her fate. Dietrich minutely shook his head as he drew her out of the circle. Once they gained some distance, he scolded her for a fair bit.
"That was dangerous as hell! Do you know who he is? He's the left hand of Monty the Beheader! He could have decided to cut your head off on a whim!"
"He wouldn't dare." Raella smirked. Being a Larkinson had its perks. "Besides, I just showed everyone that I can pull my own weight. The Blood Claws will thank me for saving their hides."
For the rest of the night, Dietrich remained concerned about Raella. He regretted taking her with him on a tour to Bentheim.
While Raella jumped into her bed and fell asleep, Dietrich hunched over the other side of the bed and held up his comm. His finger hovered over the name of Ves.
Chapter 277
Over the next two weeks, Ves quickly finished off the remainder of the orders. Twenty-four gold label Blackbeaks had been forged from his hands. The only one that remained unsold was the first production model which still awaited repairs.
He didn't even know whether he should restore it to its original condition. It might hold more value in its damaged state as a piece of mech history.
With each delivery they made, the money started rolling in. The LMC finally reached a state where they possessed a steady amount of liquidity, though much of the funds would soon be drained after they received approval to construct a new manufacturing complex.
"How much did the mech technicians progress in their studies?"
"They achieved a fair bit while you worked. Everyone has seen you do the same thing over and over." Chief Cyril reported as he supervised the preparation to shift over the production lines to fabricating the silver label Blackbeaks.
As for the Mark II? The LMC already retired the model from the catalog. Its cheap price and outdated components didn't fit in the company anymore.
"What's their success rate?"
"The average results hover around ninety-three percent in the simulations. Most of them stumble when they have to fabricate those finicky armor pieces. The margin of error is too slim, but it helps that you don't hide your methods. Lots of mech designers can be rather secretive. With the ample amount of recordings we've made, I don't think they'll have any excuses if they botch those parts."
The real secret that distinguished his gold label mechs from the cheaper labels was the X-Factor. The interaction between Ves and any of his mechs and designs occurred entirely within the mental planes. Unless someone stuck him in a neural interface, no one would be able to figure out what went on in his mind when he worked on a mech.
The gold label Blackbeaks in the hands of his customers already led to rave reviews. Even if few if any of his mechs had been tested in an actual battle, the piloting experience was almost unsurpassed. Both the X-Factor and the insights he applied from his Mastery led to a small but decisive advantage.
"Last I heard, your design is even up for nomination for some awards at the end of the standard year. The only problem is that most copies in the wild consists of bronze label Blackbeaks."
Ves pressed his lips. "I truly hope they don't take the bronze label version as the standard. Has the EME shored up its quality by now?"
"Carlos tells me that some of his lessons have penetrated through Mr. Neverland's thick skull. The quality of EME's latest output has reached the bare minimum, more or less."
"More or less?"
"It's good enough for the buyers, but you'll probably claw your eyes out if you take a deep look at the mechs."
"Then you'd better not let me see one in the flesh."
His obsession over quality and craftsmanship had grown more severe over time. It had been a conscious decision of Ves to fan the flames in this area because it had a measurable impact on his work.
He started to understand why design philosophy held the key to advancing to a higher grade of mech designer.
Ves hung around the workshop and kept an eye on the mech technicians, who started putting their learning into practice. Even if they did the simulations a hundred times, working with the real thing always went wrong one way or another.
The absence of Carlos had a significant effect on the productivity of his workers. Ves frequently mentored him, and he also continued to study in his free time. All of that added knowledge turned him into a qualified, if junior fabricator.
Perhaps Cyril could do a better job, but he had to supervise the entire workshop floor, so he couldn't do the work himself. The general lack of experience exhibited by the mech technicians disheartened Ves somewhat. It would take years to get them to the level of a trained technician of a major power.
His comm suddenly chirped. Ves bent down and saw it came from Dietrich of all people. Ves quickly left the workshop and entered his office before accepting the call.
Dietrich looked awfully tired from the projection that appeared over his comm. "Ves, I've got bad news for you."
"Is something wrong with Raella?"
"You could say that." The Little Boss said, and began to explain what happened at the arena yesterday.
Ordinarily, Ves would get angry if he heard that Raella ran off to engage in a series of highly dangerous underground duels. Yet what Dietrich said about the Glowing Planet turned all of that into something trivial.
"This Glowing Planet... you're saying it's valuable to the point where the Coalition and the Hegemony will come to duke it out?"
"Not immediately. It takes a lot of time to gather their forces and prepare them for a lengthy occupation. I reckon that the route where the Glowing Planet is zipping past will turn into a no man's land when they arrive."
That sounded very serious. A long occupation by the Friday Coalition or the Hexadric Hegemony or both meant that the war between the Bright Republic and the Vesia Kingdom could become collateral damage.
Complicating the matter was that both the Bright Republic and the Vesia Kingdom maintained some ties with the Coalition. That might be enough of an excuse for the Hexadric Kingdom to steamroll over both third-rate states if they believed the Coalition benefited from their continued existence.
"This is turning into a storm of epic proportions." Ves remarked while he rubbed his head. His brain threatened to overheat from all of the predictions he made. "Okay, have you tried to get Raella to change her mind?"
"That's the problem. She can't back off. She personally went up to a big shot and demanded to take part in the Blood Claw's expedition. In our line of work, once you do something like that, you always have to keep your word."
Ves closed his eyes. He didn't grow angry. He was already past that point. A sense of fatalistic helplessness emanated from his body as he thought about the huge numbers of mechs the Glowing Planet would host.
Each and every one of them would very likely fight to the death for riches and honor. Ves understood what it was like to fight over a portion of an untamed planet's vast mineral wealth. He already went through a harrowing ordeal at Groening IV.
"What will the Whalers do?"
"My father's been called up as well. Monty wants to bolster his numbers and our gang recently came into possession of a lot of carriers."
"That sounds dangerous."
"It is, but Monty's always been good to those who answer his call. We'll get rich, or die trying."
Ves had the sense those latter words applied to everyone else who set their sights on the Glowing Planet. Truly, the allure of an entire planet of exotics was sufficient to throw any star sector in the galactic rim into a tizzy.
"What should we do, Ves? I'm sure if you run up to your family, they can get something done."
"No. That won't work." He shook his head. "Raella always held dreams about going on an adventure in the stars. She won't agree to back out on embarking to one of the most hotly contested planets in this star sector."
A small part inside Ves faintly hoped that Raella would see for herself how awful actual war looked like. Once she disabused her romantic notions of what a treasure-hunting expedition should be, she'd surely return to her guard assignment without complaint.
Dietrich and Ves bandied about a few possible courses of action, but nothing seemed remotely helpful.
"I'll go with you guys."
"Say what?"
"Family should stick together." He said. Even though Ves hadn't been very close to his extended family, he still felt it was his duty as Raella's cousin to see her through the fighting that would continue until the end of the seventy-day grace period. "Besides, I'm sure the Whalers could use a mech designer. Planets with high concentration of exotics usually exert a destructive influence on machinery. Let me join up with you guys and I'll make sure your mech remain in tip-top shape."
The offer sounded very attractive, and Dietrich didn't hesitate to accept. "You're right. We could surely use your help. I figure my father planned to take up guard duty in space, but if we have you with us, then we can help the Blood Claws capture more territory. That will really increase our share of the profits."
The main issue with Raella was that she pledged to fight alongside the inner core of the Blood Claws. She basically turned into an honorary Blood Claw herself, which let her pilot a Blood Claw mech maintained by their own logistics.
Meanwhile, Ves lacked the familiarity to help out the Blood Claws directly. He hadn't proven himself in front of one of their leaders like Raella did. Therefore, Ves could only hitch a ride with Walter's Whalers.
"Tell your dad I'm joining their fleet with my Barracuda."
"I'll do that. He'll surely welcome you with open arms. In the meantime, I'll send you some files about the people we can expect to meet at the Glowing Planet."
They cut off the call after Ves received the files. He skimmed them over, but quickly became overwhelmed when the amount of local powers surpassed a hundred. "And that's not even factoring small fries like Walter's Whalers!"
The Glowing Planet attracted so much greed that the local states wouldn't be able to hold back their citizens from having any ideas. At the very least, both the Republic and the Kingdom didn't even attempt to rein in their gangs and mercenary corps.
"There must be over a thousand different outfits looking to fight over a bunch of rocks."
Ves predicted that the smaller outfits would seek refuge under the umbrella of a major power, such as the Bright Republic's Mech Corps or the Vesia Kingdom's Mech Legion.
Larger outfits like the Blood Claws possessed enough strength to stand on their own. While they wouldn't fight directly against the military of another state, they'd surely attempt to occupy a less attractive piece of land.
Too bad that there were too many mechs and not enough land to go around. Conflict was bound to happen.
Before Ves prepared for his impromptu journey, he gathered his closest circle of friends and workers. Melkor, Cyril, Jake, Primrose, Gavin and Calsie all streamed into the conference room, which already projected the busts of Marcella and his grandfather.
"I've got something to announce." Ves began his meeting while holding onto Lucky. He proceeded to explain what happened and how Raella ended up in the thick of it. Once he reached the part where he said he'd participate as well, the entire room exploded.
"You're crazy, Ves!" Jake yelled. "You're a mech designer! You have no place on the battlefield!"
"I might not even be touching down on the planet. I can do most of my work aboard a carrier ship."
"Even then, there's going to be so many different fleets in orbit that your ship won't be any safer!"
The administrative types like Jake and Primrose simply didn't understand his decision to throw himself head-long into danger.
However, he received a surprising word of support from Marcella. "It's up to him whether he wants to participate or not. All I can say is that a mech designer can be a lot of help to the Whalers. His presence will save a lot of lives."
"They're just a bunch of half-criminals. It's not worth the risk!"
Ves turned to his grandfather. "What about you? You haven't spoken a word yet. What do you think?"
"I don't like to be put on the spot." Benjamin replied. As a retired expert pilot, he had gone through a lot of battles over the years. "As a man, and as a Larkinson, I applaud your decision. I would have done the same. Yet I also believe that your COO has a point. It's not fitting for you to volunteer yourself to an extremely treacherous free-for-all. I wish I could tell you more, but I'm not allowed to tell you anything."
His grandfather worked at the Ministry of Defense, so he knew best what might happen at the Glowing Planet. Ves didn't begrudge his grandfather for holding back the details. He guessed that the Republic must be monitoring this conference call right now.
"Do I have your blessing to take part?"
"You can have it, for what it's worth. Go forth and be a man, but remember that you don't have to hold yourself to the same standard as a mech pilot."
His grandfather's words reflected the conflicting set of values running through his mind. Every Larkinson had been raised with tales of daring, heroism and sacrifice. With every Larkinson able to pilot a mech being sent off to war, the family suffered a lot of casualties over the generations. That was why Benjamin didn't discourage his own grandson from taking part, even if he didn't really belong on the battlefield in the first place.
"Melkor, will you come with me?"
"Of course. What will the family think if I let you go without my protection?"
That settled it. At least three of the Larkinsons would set off for the Glowing Planet. Ves faintly predicted that even more of their family might end up at the battlefield. The Mech Corps was all but certain to play the main role in the coming campaign. Perhaps he might meet some of his other relatives who served in the divisions.
Chapter 278
While Ves decided to head to the Glowing Planet to help out his cousin Raella, he might as well accomplish something more. However, he still faced considerable pushback from the company. How could they allow the founder, CEO and lead designer of the LMC to stroll into an active warzone?
"What's wrong with you?" Jake hissed at Ves as he cornered him. "Are you some kind of adrenaline junkie? Why do you throw yourself into danger at the first opportunity that knocks at your door?"
"It's not about chasing after a thrill! I'm doing it because I have to help my family."
"We both know damn well that's not the only thing on your mind. Haven't you always said that you had an awful time in your last adventure and never wanted to do anything like that again? Aren't you working so hard to become an established mech designer so that when the Republic drafts you, you'll be sent to some cozy lab away from the frontlines?"
"What's your point?"
"You're too much of a Larkinson. I've witnessed this behavior of yours plenty of times with the other Larkinsons who don't have the aptitude to pilot a mech. They're so enthralled in the warrior ethos of the family that they feel they have to prove their courage even more."
Jake should know what he was talking about, since he managed plenty of stores for the Larkinson Estate. He must have interacted with the business-minded side of the family for decades and gained a keen insight on their overall culture.
Ves fell silent for a moment. Did he feel the need to prove himself? Not particularly. His rapid advance in the mech industry already earned him enough respect that it didn't matter if others branded him a coward.
Was it about the thrill? Seeking fortune amid chaos and death? His heart started to beat faster at the thought. Despite being terrified at the prospect of battle, it enervated him as well. His eyes shook in anticipation. Fear and fright seemed to have conflicting effects on his body and mind.
"The blood runs too deep." Jake softly whispered as he shook his head. "You're made in the same mold as your grandfather. Did you know that Benjamin distinguished himself in the previous wars by volunteering for some of the most critical and dangerous missions? Just when you thought he'd meet his death, he'd crawl away with the skin of his teeth. It's the main reason why he advanced to become an expert pilot so young."
He knew the stories. Every Larkinson who reached the exalted rank of expert pilot possessed something remarkable to be able to break through the bottleneck that stopped countless pilots in their tracks.
Some had been gifted with exceptional neural aptitude. They easily pierced the bottleneck like a needle through cloth.
Some started off average, but grinded themselves past the barrier through relentless training.
Some, like his grandfather, fought at their best when they put their lives on the line. Benjamin Larkinson rose like a rocket, but a single incident late in his career had finally been the straw that broke the camel's back. The venerated war hero had been forced to put aside his profession when he sustained irreparable damage to his body.
So maybe the blood did run thick. Even though his father didn't inherit any of Benjamin's grit, perhaps it had to take another generation for another daredevil to emerge.
Ves began to smile. "All of what you said makes sense. I don't have to go to the Glowing Planet. It doesn't make any logical sense. Yet my heart and mind is urging me to seek my fortune there. Don't forget that this company was built from the rewards I gained from exploring the stars."
He salvaged the highly productive Dortmund printer from an old facility. He obtained the rest of his equipment along with a slew of rare and valuable licenses by completing a mission from the Society.
That reminded him to check out their Mission Hall. They might have issued another set of missions concerning the Glowing Planet. Even if the entire Coalition moved in after seventy days, they might want to test the waters first.
He had a feeling that the two dominant second-rate states deliberately took their time in claiming the planet. Any stellar body with a huge number of exotic mineral deposits always played havoc with man and machine. Any number of unimaginable dangers might lurk beneath its glowing facade.
And that was where Ves planned to find his fortune.
Even though Jake tried to convince his boss to stay, Ves would have none of it. He was dead set on being among the Whalers as they attempted to obtain a slice of the Glowing Planet's many riches.
He moved quickly that day. Ves hurried up with loading the Barracuda with Melkor's packed Stanislaw along with a set of high quality tools and critical supplies. He also got in touch with Walter's Whalers and let them know he was coming.
Arranging all of that work took little time, since his workers did the actual work. Ves thought about what he brought to the table, and found it rather lacking. He wanted to bring one of his mechs as well and present it to the Whalers.
"The problem is that I don't have any spare mech on hand."
Ves had to complete his contractual obligations first. The LMC immediately shipped all of the gold label Blackbeaks that he fabricated up to this point. He didn't have any spare mechs left, and he couldn't fabricate a new one from scratch in time to join up with the Whalers.
"Still, I do have one frame collecting dust in my warehouse."
It was his first production model. As his very first Blackbeak, the mech had special meaning to him. The MTA validated his very first original design based on that copy. Melinda also piloted it to victory in the duel against Captain Vicar.
Many mech designers treated their first production models like a piece of art. They cherished them like children and waited for the right time to auction them off for an incredible sum of money, perhaps multiplying its value by hundreds of times in case of extremely successful designs.
Ves didn't want to risk the loss or destruction of his first production model, but circumstances forced his hand. If he worked quickly, he'd be able to repair the damaged mech in less than a day, which gave him sufficient time to catch up to the Whalers.
"Let's do it."
Once he gave out the orders, the mech technicians went into action. Even if they never repaired an existing mech before, they all knew the basics, courtesy of Chief Cyril's training. They brought the damaged mech out of storage and placed it in the assembly system, which carefully cataloged and disassembled the damaged portions of the mech.
Meanwhile, Ves cleared the production line again and started fabricating replacement components. In order to save time, he decided not to replace the lightly damaged components, but handed them off to his mech technicians so that they could attempt to repair the parts themselves.
Not all of them proved capable of doing so, but he expected some fumbling. Any successes went right back in the mech. Parts that proved more difficult to restore passed on to Ves, who put it in the Dortmund and used some of its more advanced functions to restore the component.
Not everything could be restored to their original state. The armor plating proved impossible to repair with the equipment that the workshop had on hand. Ves had no choice but to fabricate new ones from scratch.
At least they'd be able to sell the broken plating to a professional recycler, allowing them to recoup the majority of the costs.
As Ves started making progress in the repairs, he constantly focused on the image of the Black Phoenix. Even though the mech had already gained a solidified mental presence, Ves used some of the insights he learned before to overlap its existing traits with a higher emphasis on toughness and endurance.
From what little he learned, the battle for the Glowing Planet would be fought over many battles under extremely hostile terrain. Supplying the mechs on the ground would be a huge challenge since all kinds of carriers vied for orbital supremacy.
His Blackbeak had been designed to excel in wars stretching for years. This presented a problem for him because he initially assumed the Blackbeak would fight a lot of skirmishes but only a couple of full-blown battles over the course of its service.
Thus, Ves consciously deviated from his initial design in order to harden his mech against a succession of intensive battles. He didn't take the time to form a new design and test whether the changes introduced new flaws. He eagerly modified his mech on the fly, relying nothing on intuition and some invisible guidance from a changing black phoenix.
Ultimately, the changes only led to minor differences, but Ves found the experience to be worthwhile. Acting on another whim, Ves decided to coat the feather pauldrons in a shade of red. He also changed the settings of the cloud generators to emit red vapor instead of varying shades of gray.
The added color looked spectacular, and gifted his mech with character.
"It's a damn shame you're sending it off to battle." Chief Cyril whistled in appreciation at the newly enhanced mech. "It's practically an heirloom of the company, you know. It's a piece of living history."
Ves sighed with regret. "I know, but when I'm short on mechs, I'll grab the first thing that's available, living history or not. What it can earn us down the line is not as important as satisfying an immediate need."
He knew that despite his good relations with Dietrich, he never really built any ties with the rest of the Whalers. Ves wanted his first meeting with Walter to be on good terms, and nothing expressed his sincerity better by giving him one of his company's pride and joy.
A hauler arrived at his workshop and picked up the mech. Ves entered an armored shuttle as well and rode it to the lair of the Whalers. He brought no one else along but Lucky.
A few hours later, the hauler and the shuttle and its escorts touched down on an expansive but haphazard base on the outskirts of Orinoco. It looked like a half-abandoned shell of its former self, as the Whalers already shifted much of their mechs to the carriers orbiting above the planet.
Ves stepped outside with Lucky following close behind. The cat meowed in confusion as the smells bombarded their noses. The smell of rust, alcohol and urine blended together in a unique ensemble that forced Ves to pinch his nose.
He hurried forward and met with some guards, who guided him to a gathering of senior Whalers. They looked at him as he approached.
"Ves Larkinson, at your service."
A bushy white-bearded man with a barrel of a chest and kegs for arms stepped forward. Ves recognized him at an instant. This was nothing less than Walter himself, who reigned over the Whalers since before he was born.
The man eyed him with a critical eye. "You've got guts. At least you look tough enough. Good, but you need more than that to make it out alive."
"I came bearing gifts, Mr. Walter."
The hauler unloaded the recently modified Blackbeak at that point. All of the Whalers around Walter gasped in surprise and admiration at the sight of the striking mech.
"Is that your new mech?"
"It's the very first production model, in fact. It's the strongest and most finely tuned copy of my original Blackbeak design. It's the mech that Melinda Larkinson used to beat Captain Vicar."
The Whalers might not be fully aware of what the Blackbeak brought to the table, but they all knew about the duel. The veterans erupted in a flurry of whispers.
"And you're giving it to us?"
"It's all yours from this point onwards."
Walter's face cracked into a smile. "I can't say no to a free mech, especially one of this caliber. You're in, Ves. Welcome aboard."
Ves successfully cleared the first hurdle.
Chapter 279
As the leader of the biggest and only gang on Cloudy Curtain, Walter ruled over his men through strength and restraint.
Unlike most members, Walter grew up in Bentheim rather than Cloudy Curtain. Nobody knew about his background and what he experienced growing up, but it must have been a difficult childhood, seeing as Walter never showed any inclination for higher education.
From what Ves could gather from his initial meeting of the man, Walter exhibited a slight Haston accent. He imagined Walter as something of a bully who stole food and earned respect on account of his sturdy body and his ability to master the art of intimidation.
Whatever Walter had endured, he obviously did well enough to be noticed by the local gangs. Nobody knew which gangs he previously ran with, but at some point Walter got in touch with the Blood Claws.
History got a little spotty here. All the public knew was that at one point Walter split off to form his own gang called Walter's Whalers and tried to vie for territory.
They lost the battle.
Defeated and demoralized, the remnants of the newly established Whalers tucked their tails between their legs and departed from the port system in a hurry. They sought refuge at any hole they could find, and eventually ended up in Cloudy Curtain.
The previous gang that claimed the planet as their own turned out to be more pathetic than the Whalers. Their outdated, atrophied mechs didn't stand a chance against the Whalers and their dented arsenal of cheap but modern mass-produced frontline mechs.
Since then, the Whalers settled in and licked their wounds. Eventually, they recovered to their former numbers, but Walter himself never considered going back to Bentheim. He would rather reign over cats than live like a dog among tigers.
"Good choice." Ves thought as he woke up the next morning on the Happy Jelly, the flagship of the Whalers.
As flagships went, the Happy Jelly didn't receive much care. Like most carriers, the ship had started out as a heavy hauler, and once she became too slow and worn out to make a profit, her owners sold her to a shipyard. There, the Happy Jelly received a second life as some of her most worn-out components had been replaced and her massive cargo space had been reconfigured to carry combat-ready mechs.
The only problem Ves had with the Jelly was that she was obviously pushing her age. The carrier audibly groaned as the Whaler fleet engaged their FTL drives.
Ves already missed his gleaming Barracuda. The sharp and nimble corvette always glided into FTL as if she dove into the water like a graceful athlete. The ship already went ahead of the main fleet to scout the star systems ahead.
The Happy Jelly on the other hand resembled an elephant being launched into the water with a mighty splash.
Occasionally, her entire hull groaned as if she was being stretched out like a noodle. One day, he thought, the Jelly would be the Jelly no more, leaving behind a debris field that stretches over light-years as they fell out of FTL in a haphazard order.
"You really need to tune your ship." Ves told Walter as he entered the main hangar. Rows upon rows of mechs sat dormant in their stables. Much of them looked like they had seen better days, but only a handful of technicians attempted to patch them up.
"My Jelly can take a few more trips. Don't worry about the old lady." Walter remarked as he stood in front of the red-shouldered Blackbeak. "Let's talk about business, shall we?"
Ves approached the boss as an equal but made sure to maintain a tone of respect. "As you know, I'm taking a lot of risks. I left behind a company valued at around ten billion credits in order to join your expedition. I've also gifted you with a priceless mech that's valuable not only for its history, but also its performance."
"What do you want in return?"
"A cut of whatever the Whalers manage to obtain. It doesn't have to be too much, and we can adjust the amount according to my contribution. Let's set the base at ten percent of total earnings."
That was a massive sum, but it also reflected the value Ves could bring to the table. A mech force without a mech designer watching over their machines would always be at a disadvantage compared to an opponent that did enjoy that advantage.
They bargained back and forth, but on account of his generous gift, Ves succeeded in setting the bar at ten percent.
"You look like you're eying something else. Get on with it." Walter spat, brandishing his massive arms in front of Ves.
"There are two more things I'm on a lookout for. First, if by some means the Whalers ever get their hands on something that originates from the core of the planet, I'd like to receive a hand-sized chunk."
"Fine." Not that Walter knew what something like that really meant.
"Second, I'd like to get a copy of all of the logs of the mechs on the field."
"For what reason?"
"A... client of mine wants to map out the environmental hazards your mechs might encounter in the field. It's for the Coalition."
"I see."
Walter obviously didn't appreciate sending off those logs to some stranger in the Coalition. Even if they'd never be able to use it against them, it still felt awful to air all of your dirty laundry.
In truth, Ves accepted the mission to submit the logs on his own accord at the Clifford Society. The mission dangled out a reward for 200 merits, which seemed too good to be true.
The mere mention of the Coalition had the desired effect, even if Ves played a trick on the boss. Walter acceded to the demand with gritted teeth.
In an effort to find something pleasant to talk about, Ves quickly moved past their discussion and walked over to the Blackbeak. "Have you decided whether you'll adopt this mech as your own?"
Walter shook his head. "My Urman has served me well so far. Only youngsters and fools chase after the latest toys. Your mech is a fine machine, but not a mech that's suited to lead the Whalers."
Ves glanced at the so-called Urman standing quietly to the stable up ahead. The mech turned out to be a brawler, an exotic archetype that basically fought with its fists.
Like its pilot, the brawler looked like it could withstand a lot of punishment. Ves estimated that all of its armor had actually pushed the mech over the medium weight class.
Normally, that was bad, as mechs like this didn't possess the level of protection enjoyed by genuine heavy mechs. However, some pilots simply made it work, and Walter looked like he was one of them. Ves imagined their shared body types helped a lot with establishing a deeper connection between the two.
"I can see why you're attached to your mech. The Blackbeak is a mech that's suited for long-ranged patrols and lengthy battles of attrition. It can't deliver an immediate impact like your Urman."
Walter probably had ways to get around its sluggish speed and its sub par pseudo-heavy armor. If the Urman ever got close to a mech, it could punch a mech apart through sheer brute force with the help of its large powered gauntlets.
Another man stepped forth. He looked to be from the same generation as Walter, but thankfully his body wasn't so wide. "Walter! You called?"
"Come over here. Fadah, this is Ves. Ves, this is Fadah. He's my fourth-in-command of sorts."
Fadah snorted. "More like eight or nine. You always change your mind. It's a wonder the Whalers are still in one shape."
"Hah! As long as everyone gets a taste of power, they'll know how much grief they have to deal with. That helps cut down the potential mutinies."
"As if we don't fear you." The skinnier Whaler shook his head. "Anyway, why did you call me over? I was in the middle of sorting out our roster. It's a real mess, you know."
"I called you here because you'll be piloting that black thing over there. You've always been nagging your ears about your piece of junk of a mech. Well, here's a brand new machine, and a unique one to boot. It's all yours!"
"But I'm a scout pilot! I pilot light mechs!"
"Light mechs, medium mechs, what's the difference! When you get down to it, they're both fast and hard to catch. They just differ in the amount of armor they're willing to carry. Besides, you're my most resourceful pilot. Only someone as hard to kill as you will fit this beast."
Walter didn't take no for an answer, and quickly walked away, leaving Ves and Fadah to stew by themselves.
"Is he always like that?"
"Yeah. He seems like he doesn't care, but he doesn't want to be bothered with managing anything."
"Then why do the Whalers stick with him?"
The older man grinned at him. "You wouldn't understand. The best I can describe it is... it's like a brotherhood. Walter's Whalers might not possess the ruthlessness to survive in a place like Bentheim, but that's because Walter never pushes us beyond our boundaries."
Ves didn't really understand what he meant. He shook his head and turned back to the matter at hand. "For better or worse, you're saddled with my pride and joy. The Blackbeak is a fine machine. It will run as smooth as butter, I can guarantee you."
"Whatever you say. It's not a scout. Far from it. It's a knight." Fadah didn't appear to be taken in by all the hype, but he tried to make the best of it. "Let's get to work, then."
Any mech pilot that adopted a new mech had to go through a period of training and adjustment. Normally, a couple of mech pilots would be sufficient to tweak the mech to the pilot's preferences. Allowing Ves to do the adjustments on a design he knew on an extremely deep level was an extravagant privilege.
Fadah came from a light mech background, so the man mainly demanded ways to enhance the Blackbeak's mobility. In particular, Fadah harped on improving its response time and its range of motion.
"A light mech relies on agility to survive up close. The more you shave off a mech's response time, the better it will be able to respond to an opponent's move."
Ves felt deeply reluctant to make any drastic changes to the Blackbeak, but Fadah insisted on a couple of modifications that severely impacted the effectiveness of its armor.
As Ves tried to follow Fadah's suggestions, he became a little conflicted about maintaining its ability to endure. Many of the things Fadah insisted upon set back the Blackbeak's ability to survive the entire campaign.
"You shouldn't be beating your head over my style." Fadah said. "The whole point of light mechs is that they survive by not taking a hit at all. I know it seems kind of reckless for me to demand you strip a knight of some of its armor, but I can tell you that I'll be much better off that way."
"I still think you're going too far with this! The Blackbeak is losing its identity as a knight!"
"I don't want to pilot a knight!"
They remained at an impasse. Ves felt more and more like he was butchering the Blackbeak until all he had left was bones. The conflicting vision for the mech sometimes caused him headaches that forced him to halt his adjustment work.
That was bad, as the Whaler fleet would soon arrive at the outskirts of the space around the Glowing Planet. The crew members of the Happy Jelly already called the five light-hours around the planet the Glowing Zone.
The Whaler fleet was scheduled to rendez-vous at a point around one light-hour into the Glowing Zone. Monty the Beheader issued a call to arms, and every outfit that pledged allegiance to him had to heed his words.
If all went well in space, the Whalers would be touching down in a couple of days. Ves had to finish the Blackbeak and inspect some of the other mechs before that happened. He urgently had to find a way to solve his current logjam.
"What will it take to reconcile my mech with its pilot?"
Chapter 280
His interaction with the crew of the Happy Jelly and exploring its compartments gave Ves a decent impression of Walter's Whalers.
Put simply, they lacked discipline and professionalism.
If Ves wanted to be blunt, he'd use the words lazy and stupid to describe their motley crew. While the Whalers at least invested a little in their mech crews in order to make sure they functioned normally, their ship crews left a lot to be desired.
Severely undermanned, the crew of the Happy Jelly only had the manpower to spare on maintaining the bare essentials of the ship.
They kept the atmospherics going so they wouldn't be freezing and choking from a lack of oxygen.
They kept the aging bridge and engineering running past their prime with a mix of ad-hoc solutions.
Sometimes, they replaced faulty parts with illegally fabricated copies of dubious quality.
It all looked ugly to Ves. Having seen a professional combat crew at work with his stint on Ark Horizon, the Whalers should be thanking their lucky stars the carrier hadn't blown up yet.
Even the aging complement of bots had been affected by the lethargy around them. All of them looked old enough to be present on the Jelly when she started off as a brand new cargo hauler. Lack of attention had degraded at least half of them into scrap, which forced the remainder of the bots to pull double duty to clean the ship and take care of smaller duties.
They obviously failed in that. Many low-priority corridors and compartments featured a build-up of grime and crusted vomit. If the Jelly had any cleaners on her crew, they obviously didn't bother cleaning these sections.
Right now, Ves had to pass by some of those filthy corridors in order to reach a rarely-used conference. Walter summoned everyone important on the ship to attend a briefing.
Around thirty old Whalers seated themselves on the hard, cheap chairs.
"I think everyone's here now, so let's get this started." Walter announced and turned on a flickering projection of the Glowing Zone. "The Blood Claws have been scouting ahead and made some plans. This is what it's going to look like."
The Whaler fleet would emerge at the edge of the Glowing Zone and make its way inwards until they reached the position of the Blood Claws. Once every outfit with a connection to Monty gathered in a massive fleet, they resumed their journey towards the deepest part of the Glowing Zone, eventually approaching the outer edge of an enormous armada made up out of several divisions of the Mech Corps.
"As you know, the Glowing Planet has landed within the borders of the Republic. The Mech Corps, in all of its wisdom, figured that since the Vesians and all kinds of scum will arrive in a couple of days, it's best to set aside our rivalries and form a common pact."
"Does that mean the Three Tyrants of Bentheim won't be duking it out?"
"Of course not, you dummy!"
The old chap wouldn't be blamed for thinking that Monty the Beheader might choose to attack his other rivals. They constantly warred against each other in the shadows.
"The Glowing Planet is big enough for everyone, at least in the first couple of days. The Mech Corps has mapped out the planet from orbit and carved a generous slice of territory for each of the major players to claim as their own."
A map of the planet showed up on the projection. Much of its intricate and dangerous terrain features remained unknown, but the Mech Corps somehow determined that the areas with the highest level of fluctuations probably contained deposits of the most valuable exotics the planet had on offer.
"These red areas are first-grade danger zones. They're extremely dangerous, as all of those wild exotic minerals are constantly changing the laws of physics around them. Time might stop, gravity might reverse, in short, all kinds of freaky stuff will happen around them. We can forget about mining those deposits ourselves. Only the Mech Corps has the means to extract those juicy exotics."
"What about us?"
"I'm getting to that. Around the red zones are the orange zones, which consists of the second-grade danger zones. The exotics there are much less destructive on their environment, but there's a lot of them so the entire area will be blanketed in a low level freaky effect. These are great places to mine junk exotics in bulk, and that's where the major powers of the Republic have divided up for themselves."
The area allocated to Monty the Betrayer sat far away from any other claimed areas, and took up as much space as Dorum, Bentheim's capital city.
"That's kind of small. There's lots of free space on the planet."
"This is only the first phase. Do you really think the Blood Claws will be able to protect this stretch of territory once the Ducal Legions of the Vesians make landfall? Even a fraction of a legion is enough to wipe the floor with Monty and his men!"
The map has changed now. Before, all of the Republican's powers had spread out over the planet. Now, they concentrated around the red zone occupied by the Mech Corps.
"In the second phase, every force from the Republic will work together to present a united front. Every major outfit like the Three Tyrants of Bentheim will be placed at the edge of the red zone occupied by the Mech Corps."
"It kind of looks like we'll be placed at the frontlines."
"They're using us as shields!"
"It's true." Walter said. "The Mech Corps isn't hiding the fact that they want us to be placed at the perimeter of their territory. Anyone who wants to attack the Mech Corps has to go through the Blood Claws or some other outfit depending on the direction of the attack."
"Seems like a crappy deal. What do we get out of it?"
"Protection, basically. The Mech Corps won't stand by if any of us gets attacked. They've promised to send out a relief force to repel the attack."
No one really took the Mech Corps at their word, but none of them had a say in the matter. Monty had already agreed to the deal. Ves strongly suspected that a couple of trades had been made on the side to secure everyone's agreement.
"Our precise role will vary. We brought plenty of mechs, but they're not really impressive, aside from my Urman and Fadah's new toy. The Blood Claws will likely put us on guard duty. It's going to get increasingly dangerous once the Vesians and the scum of the galaxy arrive."
Walter proceeded to assign his officers to various tasks. Ves took on the duty of leading a small team of mech technicians in charge of maintaining and repairing the so-called fast-reaction squad led by Fadah.
The fast-reaction squad acted as the troubleshooters of the Whalers. Walter basically gathered up some swift and mobile mechs and tasked them with rescuing any Whalers that had fallen into trouble.
"That's all we can plan for now. I still don't know if we'll actually be able to hold a chunk of territory of our own, but you can bet that we'll have to fight for every piece of ore the Blood Claws extract."
The Mech Corps made use of the Blood Claws, while the Blood Claws made use of the Whalers. Life was tough at the bottom of the totem pole.
Once everyone dispersed, Ves wandered back to the main hangar. While he hadn't figured out a way to reconcile the Blackbeak with a mech pilot eager to subvert the strengths of its design, Ves reflected on his previous choices.
"A mech won't always be matched with the right pilot. Its design might favor a defensive style of fighting, but if it's matched with an aggressive pilot, then something has to give."
He always assumed that his Blackbeaks would be matched by mech pilots that could bring out their brilliance. Yet this time, he gifted the Blackbeak out for free to a leader who never really stood out as a brilliant decision maker. In turn, that leader handed over the Blackbeak to a pilot who obviously desired to pilot something else.
All of this turned out to be a mess, and as the mech designer in charge of tweaking the Blackbeak to Fadah's tastes, it was up to him to untangle the knot.
Eventually, he made a decision.
"It's no good to hold on to my beliefs even if I think that Fadah is wrong. In a sense, he's my customer, and a mech designer should always be attentive to their customers."
If he reframed the situation into a relationship between a service provider and a customer, then the answer became clear. He had to set aside his narrow view of what was best in favor of accommodating the wishes of his client.
"Sticking to my guns obviously won't please Fadah."
Fadah wanted his mech to fit his style instead of the other way around. If the Blackbeak remained a sluggish semi-defensive bulwark, then the pilot would never be able to mesh with it as deeply as Ves and Fadah wished.
Even though Ves thought that Fadah made the wrong decision, it was better to follow his wishes, since at least the pilot had a chance of making it work.
In short, Ves had to believe in Fadah and his claims.
The realization came as a welcome relief to Ves. While the solution to the dilemma didn't truly eliminate every problem, the reasoning behind it gave Ves enough of an excuse to set aside his instincts.
With grudging acceptance, he worked together with Fadah to finish slimming down the Blackbeak. Ves let go of its original conception as an offensive knight and treated it as a fluid entity with no discernable role as of yet.
"Thinking in terms of categories is a trap in itself. Not all mechs have to fill into a single predetermined role."
That had been the other lesson he learned. The concept of roles and archetypes emerged after the first generations of mechs soon after the Age of Mechs came into being. It provided the nascent mech pilots and mech designers with a common understanding of what the new mechs had been designed to do.
It succeeded in bringing order to the mech industry. Both designers and pilots experimented with hundreds of different concepts, throwing away the more impractical ideas while embracing the most effective ones like knight mechs, rifleman mechs and more.
Yet sometimes those neat categories failed to adjust to the demands of the pilots. Walter's unusual Urman was but one example of a design that should not have worked according to contemporary standards. Yet Walter obviously managed, since he never lost a battle since he fled to Cloudy Curtain.
Ves had the sense that he was doing something similar to the Blackbeak. He shaved away a significant amount of armor, drastically reducing the mech's encumbrance until its weight reached a point below the minimum standard of a medium mech.
Now, the highly modified Blackbeak had become a mech that straddled the gap between a light and medium mech. In most people's eyes, such a mech would be an abomination. Yet Fadah found the result to be a marvel when he tested it out in a simulation.
"Fantastic! This is fantastic! The Blackbeak is so responsive now! It's still not as fast as I would like, but it's enough for me to pull off all of my moves!"
In the end, Ves had satisfied his client. Whether this ultra-skinny Blackbeak could actually put up a fight, he didn't dare to speculate any further. He just hoped that Fadah had been somewhat truthful about his supposedly awesome skills.
The work took way more time than he thought. Ves originally planned to make a pass at every mech on the Happy Jelly, but their impending emergence at the edge of the Glowing Zone cut that short.
Ves settled for taking a look at the other mechs of the fast-reaction squad.
When he finally visited their stables and looked at their frames, his mood tumbled to the bottom.
"How the hell do they still work?"
He'd seen junkyard scrap in better conditions than the light and medium mechs that consisted of the fast-reaction squad. Ves had a lot of work to do if he wanted to ensure they could survive the rigors they'd usually be going through on the surface of the Glowing Planet.
Chapter 281
Thousands, if not tens of thousands of ships converged upon the Glowing Planet. Much of them consisted of cheap converted transports, but some of them boasted enough tonnage to overrun a small planet in a day.
The Glowing Planet's fate was sealed as soon as the trade convoy led by the Calcardon had stumbled upon it. Even if every crew member aboard every ship swore an oath of silence, word of the miraculous planet's existence would have still been leaked.
Now, a horde of locusts descended upon its virgin lands, the trade convoy first among them. Driven by rapacious greed, all of the haulers and mercenary carriers ignored their contractual obligations in favor of descending upon the planet.
Even if they lacked the specialized mining equipment to get at the most valuable ores, they still thought they could get their hands on some valuable chunks.
"Even if we can't find any rocks, we can still use the weapons equipped on our mechs!"
The hasty approach didn't end well for them. They underestimated the anomalies such active planets induced upon their environments. Even their orbits suffered from its chaotic wrath.
It took only a single day for the Calcardon to fall. Her hull stretched to pieces as she suddenly fell into a swirling tide of gravitic pressure. None of her crew and mechs survived.
Some of the other vessels in the former trade convoy could have pulled away from the planet, if not leave its vicinity altogether. Yet in their haste to harvest the Glowing Planet's treasures, they ignored the Calcardon's fate and dismissed the incident as a low-probability occurrence.
"The Barbed Lynxes had it coming. There's no way the same thing will happen to us!"
They vastly underestimated the hazards.
By the second day, no more ships remained in orbit. Random spasms in the fabric of reality had rented most of them apart across time and space. Some pieces of debris had even crossed back into time, not that it mattered since they largely floated in the humongous void of interstellar space.
Meanwhile, the Glowing Planet continued to drift away in space. Soon its journey would bring it outside the borders of the Republic. At least, that would have happened if humanity hadn't gotten word of its existence.
Aboard the flagship of the Blood Claws, Raella relentlessly trained her physical body in preparation for the hard slog ahead. She had locked herself inside a hard light simulation cage, which presented a variety of projected thugs and beasts for her to dance around and knock them out with her arms and legs. She dexterously weaved between the savage imitations of life and dismantled them with ruthless efficiency.
Once the simulation ended, she exited the cage while letting a bot wipe away her sweat and freshen up her body. "Wooh! I broke my record!"
"Great job!" Dietrich said from the side. He already finished his daily marksmanship training. "Let's go eat some chow."
They walked over to the mess hall a few decks above the massive fleet carrier. Unlike Walter's Whalers, the Blood Claws knew how to keep their ship running. Hardly any spec of dust marred its gleaming corridors. That might soon change once the campaign heated up, but for now, the Blood Claws looked prime and ready to go to war.
Once they sat down at a table, a pair of bots automatically delivered a meal tailored to their tastes and their bodily needs. Raella eagerly grabbed her drink and gulped down half of it in an instant.
"I've been talking with Ves a few times. He's eager to meet you again once we make landfall."
Raella pressed her lips. "It's touching to hear he cares, but he didn't need to travel all the way here. He should have stayed back on your miserable little farm planet."
"Hey! Cloudy Curtain isn't bad once you get to appreciate its charm!"
"Whatever you say, farm boy."
They paused their discussion to eat. Both had become famished after finishing their training. The food easily slipped down their throats as they devoured their meals.
"You know, it's not going to be easy to survive down there." Dietrich started up again. "I've been hearing some news that the anomalies around the planet have already claimed the lives of an entire trade convoy. If it's already so bad up in orbit, it's surely going to be worse on the surface."
"Even if that's true, the Blood Claws or the Mech Corps will figure something out. They're not going to let a bunch of unruly special effects ruin the harvest of the century."
Dietrich hoped the people upstairs remained clueless. As long as they didn't figure out an answer to tackle the anomalies, Raella wouldn't get the opportunity to descend with the rest of the Blood Claws.
He discreetly shook his head. Since when did he care so much about a girl? He had plenty of flings in the past. Why did Raella catch his heart?
As he stared intently at she tackled her dessert, he figured he became attracted to her strength. A dump like Cloudy Curtain couldn't have produced a woman so skilled at piloting mechs.
Dietrich loved her exuberance, but did Raella love him back? Perhaps she treated him like he treated his former flings. It didn't help that her abrupt decision to join this expedition had introduced some friction in their relationship.
"Babe, I won't argue about your desire to make landfall. I know how much you crave action. Just let me be with you. I'll back you up as best I can."
"Awww, you're so sweet, Dietrich!" Raella laughed. "All of the boys at Rittersberg would have been too busy turning up their noses at the sky to think about protecting me. But really, I don't need your coddling. I can handle myself, no matter what the Glowing Planet throws at us."
"It's not the Glowing Planet I'm afraid of. Well, that's not true. I am afraid of it, but I'm more scared about the riff raff that will arrive in the next couple of days."
"I'm sure we'll be able to clean them all up. Trash will be trash. I've dealt with several of them when I fought in the underground arenas."
Dietrich grabbed her hands and clasped them on his own. "I still worry about you. All the real opponents you've faced so far are rejects compared to the pilots who joined the military."
"I know how good they are. I'm a Larkinson, remember? Even if they can kick my butt, I'll make sure to kick theirs in return, just like what Melinda did to Captain Vicar."
Her tone betrayed a hint of envy. Why did Melinda get to show off the Blackbeak in a crowded arena? That should have been Raella! Even if she didn't specialize in piloting mechs, she still would have managed to deal with the pressure.
In a way, she craved to prove her courage, to test whether she had what it took to be a Larkinson. She couldn't wait for the war to erupt and she didn't think she'd see any action anyway if she kept patrolling some stupid workshop.
The Blood Claws presented an opportunity for her to make her mark. Her biggest aim was to distinguish herself in battle.
While Raella dreamt about overshadowing Melinda, plenty of other people aspired to fulfill their goals in the upcoming campaign.
Over a third of the Bright Republic's mercenary corps had converged around a small number of charismatic mercenary leaders. While no single mercenary corps possessed the numbers to defend themselves against a major power, the balance of power changed if they managed to unite.
The emergence of the so-called mercenary lords allowed the smaller outfits to band together to form a temporary alliance. While none of them really trusted their colleagues to risk their lives for a couple of strangers, they still shared enough in common to let a lord order them around.
Of course, that only held if they got paid. An alliance would instantly disintegrate if the lord became incapable of delivering the goods.
Thus, the leaders faced a lot of pressure to succeed in their expeditions. They'd be ruined if they left with empty hands. The mercenaries that tentatively answered their calls could easily turn against the lords if they showed an inkling of weakness.
Interestingly enough, many of the mercenaries piloted mechs designed by Ves. For the first time in his career, a large number of his products would be tested in an actual combat situation.
And what a test it represented! The fight over the Glowing Planet would definitely spark more than a couple of cautious skirmishers. Wealth had a way of infecting the most prudent individuals with boundless greed. No one was in a mood to back off. Not at this stage.
The mercenaries brought two distinct models to the war zone. First, the Marc Antony Mark II's had become a staple in some mercenary corps. While the LMC never produced very many of them, they still brought a lot of value to the smaller and less financially capable outfits.
The only downside to the Mark II's was that they only functioned for a relatively short period of time. Much like the Havalax, the Mark II excelled at forcing a quick resolution of a battle. Fortunately, the hybrid mech possessed many tools to force such an outcome.
As for the Blackbeaks, many of their owners and mech pilots had barely gotten a grip on them. The design showed a lot of promise, but aside from a single publicised duel, the Blackbeak hadn't been tested for the role it had been designed to fulfill.
Still, the pilots believed in the machines. The Blackbeaks looked and felt impressive. Actually piloting the wonderfully crafted machines proved to be a sublime experience, especially for the limited number of gold label mechs.
EME actually produced most of the Blackbeaks in the hands of the mercenaries going to war. The affordable and more easily available silver label mechs didn't match the quality of the original version, but that didn't lessen their value by much. The guts looked the same no matter their labels, and their pilots readily entrusted their lives to their impressive machines.
It could be said that a lot of eyes kept an eye on the Blackbeak. They wanted to see whether an offensive knight had what it took to fight a war. Many professionals with money to spare eagerly awaited the final verdict on the design.
As for Ves, he faced a much more pressing priority. Getting the sad excuses of his mech technicians to work.
"Come on, Mr. Larkinson!" A sleazy-looking fellow whined. "I just checked the integrity of the armor like you told me to do. There aren't any cracks worth mentioning!"
"Lucky."
His mechanical cat jumped from its perch on his shoulder and jumped straight past the bewildered technician.
"OUCH! That hurt!"
Lucky only needed to mark their skins to provide an abject lesson on why they should listen to Ves.
"Don't try to fool my eyes. I know my mechs, and my judgment is telling me that this light mech needs another set of armor. So get off your lazy but and scan it again!"
"Yes, boss!"
Ves shook his head as the tech scurried back to the scanners. The main issue that plagued the mechs owned by the Whalers was that the mech technicians lacked supervision. They didn't hire chief technicians to ride on their backs.
This left Ves with the tiresome job of hounding the awful technicians to do the work they should have been doing from the start.
"Really, they've cut so many corners that these mechs could have been round at this point. It's truly a wonder that the Whalers haven't collapsed from all the rust."
It truly vexed Ves to know how badly the Whalers handled their logistics. He wasn't even sure if a single whaler besides Dietrich even knew what that word meant.
Chapter 282
The Happy Jelly emerged at the edge of the Glowing Zone in a lurch. Its oft-repaired and barely functional FTL drive strained to bring the ship into realspace without breaking her apart.
Ves gripped the cushioned pod seat sight at the moment of transition, but everyone else simply shrugged off their nausea and went back to work. They had already become used to the violent transitions from the higher dimensions back to the lower ones.
"Damnit, this ship will really kill them all some day." He muttered as the seat automatically withdrew the straps that held him in the pod. "Tell me you didn't enjoy the ride, Lucky."
"Meow!"
Lucky didn't look too chipper either. The glowing blue lines of energy between the gaps of his elegant bronze plating burned bright now. Ves surmised that Lucky already accumulated enough energy to evolve from level 2 to level 3. For some reason, the gem cat held back, likely because Ves needed his help if he wanted to make it through the upcoming campaign.
It didn't help that many of the mechs the Whalers used enjoyed less than stellar maintenance. The lack of leadership, the shortage in manpower and the pervasive attitude of doing the bare minimum resulted in a lot of heavily degraded mechs.
The mech technicians often dismissed the minor problems that piled up in a mech, unaware that several unrelated errors could cascade into catastrophic faults down the line.
Ves had accessed some of the logs and noticed that the Whalers didn't fight very often. This had allowed the problems to fester, because the Whalers never really experienced a significant loss arising from a lack of maintenance.
Now they faced a reckoning. According to some of the contingency plans the Blood Claws passed to the Whalers, each mech might be facing an average of six intensive engagements. In these kinds of pitched battles, the mechanical state of any mech was of extreme importance.
Too bad none of the Whalers really listened to him. The few times he got hold of Walter, the burly man told him to piss off and bother someone else. When Ves approached the officers like Fadah, they'd tell him that he worried too much.
"Sure, our equipment is crap. That's a fact. They're cheap to get and cheap to use. We break things a lot, so we don't actually bother trying to keep our gear in shape."
Indeed, over seventy percent of the mechs aboard the Happy Jelly consisted of frontline mechs. In addition, the Whalers acquired at least half of them through the gray or black market, so their reliability was questionable.
Their only advantage to the gang was that they cost only several million credits a pop. The most basic frontline mech in the Bright Republic could be bought for five million credits. In comparison, Ves thought that some mechs looked like they'd been salvaged from a battlefield and refurbished up to a point where the Whalers snapped them up for half the minimum price.
Very obviously, the Whalers could put a lot of mechs on the field this way. Most of its members consisted of local recruits from Cloudy Curtain who hadn't been able to attend a fancy advanced academy offworld.
This meant that most of them lacked the training and skills to pilot anything more sophisticated than a barebones frontline mech. It would have been useless for them to pilot something as sophisticated as the Blackbleak as they wouldn't be able to control the mech efficiently.
"That's still no excuse to neglect the maintenance of their mechs!"
Ves wanted to tear his hair out. Even though he kicked the mech technicians assigned to his command into action, they quickly returned to old habits once he walked away. Discipline was nonexistent and playing games on their comms turned out to be their most frequent activity.
It also didn't help that Ves didn't quite fit in with the loose and casual brotherhood the Whalers fostered among themselves. His goodwill for gifting the Blackbeak quickly faded away, and his constant prodding of getting people to work quickly earned him a reputation for being uptight and serious.
He didn't care about what other people thought. Everything he accomplished now was one thing he didn't have to compensate for when the Whalers made landfall.
"That's not far away now. I've got to get the fast-reaction squad in decent shape before we touch down. I won't be able to overhaul these mechs on the surface of an active planet."
The Happy Jelly and the rest of the Whaler fleet slowly gathered in a protective formation and began to fly deeper into the Glowing Zone. On the bridge, a large amount of alerts sounded out as the Jelly's sensors strained to identify all of the active thruster emissions.
"At least five-hundred ships are already burning their way towards the inner zone! Over a third of them haven't activated their transponders!"
"Hah! Looks like the pirates are scrambling to get a piece of the action as well." Walter joked as he gazed upon the giant projection of the Glowing Zone and the ships they detected so far.
It did not look too good. While the Whalers brought around twelve functional mech carriers and four supply ships, much of those ships only carried a dozen or half-a-dozen mechs. Only the Happy Jelly was large enough to receive acknowledgement from the Blood Claws.
Over the next day, the Whaler fleet sluggishly brought their ships towards a random coordinate relative to the Glowing Planet. The Blood Claws along with a handful of smaller outfits already gathered there. The Whaler fleet turned out to be among the last who arrived, much to the consternation of the crew.
"You should have invested more in your ships, then." Ves pointed out to Fadah.
"Every extra credit spent on a ship is one credit less we can invest in our mechs."
Ves could have said that their entire budgeting rested upon a flimsy foundation. Sure, they might not have been able to do anything about the quality of their mech pilots, but they should have put more care in the quality of their mechs.
Right now, Ves had given up on changing their mindsets. They needed to experience the folly of their ways with their own eyes before they became more receptive to his ideas.
"When are the Blood Claws setting off?"
"I'm not sure." Fadah shrugged his shoulders as he patted the Blackbeak. He constantly came back to Ves to demand more adjustments. "Last I heard, all of the outfits that we know of have arrived. We've got over two-hundred ships by ourselves. That's got to be enough to put the Mech Corps to pause."
"I don't think so. The Mech Corps always goes for quality over quantity. The Republic doesn't have the mech pilots to spare for them to throw their lives away so easily. Just one of their carriers can accomplish the same things as your entire Whaler fleet."
"That's a lie!"
"Fadah, even a single fleet carrier outmasses your entire collection of ramshackle converted transports. I can tell, because I've been on one."
There was no getting through Fadah's thick skull. Practically all of the Whalers except Walter only possessed a limited perspective on how the galaxy truly looked like. Walter could have disabuse them of their notions, but the gang leader didn't seem to bother.
The delays annoyed the Whalers and much of the other outfits that answered to Monty. Several other fleets such as those led by the mercenary leaders already flew past them as they made their way to the juicy planet. It galled the impatient gang members to see others getting ahead.
That was until one mercenary transport randomly erupted into pieces.
At first, the mercenaries aboard the ship around them thought that someone had sabotaged the vessel. The mercenary commanders quickly acted to stop any trigger-happy mercenaries from firing back.
It turned out the transport had fallen into an invisible curl in spacetime. That quickly halted the vanguard of the fleet. Who could tell if the space ahead hid something else?
The transport met its end at a fairly significant distance of three light-hours away from the Glowing Planet. Such a distance should have been more than enough to ignore any possible emissions from the active planet due to the inverse-square law.
"That's why the Blood Claws haven't gone ahead." Ves realized. "They're waiting for something that can mitigate the glowing planet's hazards."
"Do you reckon it's the Mech Corps we're waiting for?"
"I don't know if the Mech Corps even understands what is happening with the Glowing Planet. My gut tells me they'll borrow the technology from the Coalition or the CFA."
They only had to wait a couple of hours before their answer arrived. The 4th division of the Mech Corps arrived with massive splendor. Their large, specialized carriers had no trouble recovering from the transition and quickly formed into smaller elements before they soared into the Glowing Zone.
Hundreds of carriers built for war escorted a smaller number of essential transports. Ves estimated that the 4th division's fleet brought over ten-thousand mechs spread over five unique regiments.
All the pomp and circumstance succeeded in cowing the other powers. The 4th division boldly sped their way towards the inner zone without fear for falling into any inexplicable hazards.
Before everyone could scratch their heads and wonder whether the Mech Corps had lost their mind, a number of strange transports split up from the main fleet. Several transports moved to each major fleet, including the one centered around the Blood Claws.
News quickly passed on what they contained.
"Those transports are carrying the Republic's gifts! They're carrying something called a dimensional smoother! They emit some kind of field that anchors local realspace and makes it harder for the Glowing Planet to do its freaky stuff!"
The explanation barely satisfied Ves. The so-called dimensional smoother probably had a better name, but the Blood Claws or the Whalers probably couldn't wrap their heads around the original meaning, so they grasped for something simpler to describe its effects.
The name did its job, he supposed. Everyone had been able to imagine the implications of a dimensional smoother. They had to get close to it and hope that it emitted enough power to withstand the Glowing Planet's mood swings.
The Blood Claw fleet received three transports, which quickly took up a triangular formation. Naturally, the ships under Monty's the Betrayer's direct control received the privilege of flying alongside the transports carrying the dimensional smoothers.
The Whalers had been assigned at the furthest edge of the formation. That said a lot about their worth to the Blood Claws.
"They don't think much of us!"
"Worst mistake they ever made!"
"We'll show them what we're made of once we start fighting!"
Truly, the amount of delusion that had infected the Whalers reached a ridiculous level. No matter who he talked to, everyone seemed to think the campaign would be a walk in the park, or at worst a slog through a muddy road.
Only Ves thought that the road ahead resembled a treacherous cliff. Sometimes, he regretted joining the Whaler fleet. He hadn't imagined they'd be so incompetent. Then he thought about Raella and the missions he accepted from the Society and the System.
He had a feeling the System knew more about the Glowing Planet than anyone else in this star sector. When the System broke its silence and demanded him to seek out something from the planet's core, Ves received a massive fright.
"There's something about the Glowing Planet that nags me. If it only holds a huge amount of junk exotics, how come its emissions are so strong?"
It would have been explainable if a ship ended up dead if it wandered close to the Glowing Planet's orbit. Yet to be able to influence its surrounding space so much to the point of tearing apart a vessel light-hours away, it must be hiding something special.
"I guess we'll see in a day or two when we make landfall."
Once the Blood Claw fleet settled into place, the huge formation slowly swept forward. All the other fleets resumed their journey to the Glowing Planet as well once they gathered around the dimensional smoothers.
Everything seemed fine and dandy, until a large number of ships arrived from a different angle. Alarm swept throughout the ships which figured out the identity of the newcomers.
"It's the Vesians!"
Chapter 283
Everyone expected the Vesians to come to the Glowing Planet. How could they not, when its resources lay bare to their archrivals?
Anything the Bright Republic enjoyed, the Vesians always tried to ruin it. They'd been waging several wars against the Bright Republic for over a hundred years just to snatch the Bentheim System.
It was a matter of time before they came.
"They still arrived too quickly." Fadah muttered. "They must have sneaked past the border the moment they heard the news. Not that it's hard to cross the border anyhow."
In the vast depths of space, borders served a symbolic purpose. The distances involved were simply too large to defend. Still, even if the Vesians strolled past the Republic's outposts, they shouldn't have reached the Glowing Planet for at least a couple more days.
Ves deduced a frightening reason why they showed up so early. "The Vesians already prepared their invasion forces. They finished their mobilization a while ago. It's not too much of a stretch to think they readied their mechs and ships for a short hop across the border."
The Vesians already primed their forces for an invasion. Upon obtaining word of the Glowing Planet, they merely had to gather some extra mining equipment and obtain a couple of dimensional smoothers before they could make their move.
"Damn! They deployed a jamming field! We can't get a good look at what they brought."
The Blood Claw fleet shared some telemetry with the other fleets in order to determine the fleet's makeup, but all they could figure out was that the Vesians numbered in the hundreds.
"It's not a huge fleet, but they can steamroll any other fleet in their way."
Despite their presence at the opposite side of the Glowing Zone, nobody truly panicked as of yet. Just because the Vesians arrived didn't mean they could destroy anything in its way. As long as any fleet built up enough relative velocity, they'd be able to evade any pursuit.
Still, that didn't help too much if a fleet wanted to support their mechs on the ground. Only the most powerful fleets possessed the strength to contest for orbital supremacy.
All of that remained a concern for the future, as the Vesians didn't appear to be in a hurry to move.
"I think the Vesians are waiting for reinforcements. They don't have the numbers to match the 4th Bentheim Division."
"It's likely the Vesians have spread out their forces along the border. The ones who came first just happened to be nearest to the Glowing Planet."
Despite the interruption, the Mech Corps and the other fleets aligned with the Republic resumed their burn to the Glowing Planet. Covered under the protective embrace of the dimensional smoother, none of the ships had to worry about being torn apart by a freak gravitic storm. Still, some of the ships at the edges occasionally shook, as if the Planet attempted to pound past the field emitted by the smoothers.
The Happy Jelly suffered three major impacts, in fact. Ves didn't know whether the transport was unlucky or offended the Glowing Planet in some way, because they all suffered from continuous turbulence.
"This is ridiculous! It's like the Glowing Planet has it out for us!"
Ves approached the lazy technician from behind and kicked him from his perch. "If you have enough free time to complain, then you have enough time for the reassembly. Get to it!"
According to the plan, they'd be making landfall in a day or two. Ves did the best he could with the limited amount of manpower and resources available, and he succeeded in increasing the longevity of the mechs under his purview.
"It's all band aids compared to what they really need. Half of the mechs in the fast-reaction squad are nearing the end of their service life."
At least I learned a lot out of this experience. He witnessed many ways in which a mech started to degrade.
The most typical cause of failure was when a mech's processors and delicate components started to falter first.
Those were easy enough to replace. Unfortunately, when larger components showed some signs of giving up, the mech technicians simply shrugged and went back to sleep.
That left many mechs with a dangerous build-up of fragile components that could break as soon as something gave them a little push. Ves had already prepared himself for massive casualties among the Whalers if the Blood Claws didn't give them an easy assignment.
Over the next two days, the Whalers finally turned a little serious. More ships arrived. Hundreds more. Thousands more. An uncountable number of ships had gathered in the Glowing Zone, and many of them had never been seen before. Very likely, the ships that tried their best to obscure their identities came from murky backgrounds.
The thought of competing against hordes of pirates and other scum forced the ships from the Republic to move quickly. The transports carrying the dimensional smoothers picked up the pace, forcing many outdated transports or converted transports to stress their thrusters to their limits.
All of this had been worth it, because the Blood Claws and their allies arrived over orbit with hardly any opposition as of yet. The 4th Bentheim Division arrived first, of course. Their modern, combat-hardened ships could muscle through anything, and the abundant number of dimensional smoothers in their fleet ensured the planet wouldn't be able to stop their approach.
A number of mechs had already been deployed to the surface. They scouted the terrain and made sure the dimensional smoothers sent alongside them worked as advertised.
The Blood Claws didn't wait for the tests to conclude. They sent down their own mechs to secure the juicy territories allocated to their fleet. Right now, not a lot of ships had neared the Glowing Planet as of yet, as none of the opportunists had access to a dimensional smoother that could grant them safe passage.
"While the pirates and lone wolves are figuring things out, we'll be on the surface picking up credits from the ground!" Walter announced at the main hangar. "Now, the gravity of the planet is only 0.7 g, which is enough for some of our lightest transports to shuttle our mechs down. That said, I'm not feeling confident they'll hold up very long if we do that, so we'll stick with our newest ships."
The Whalers acquired a decent amount of ships in the last couple of years, but none of them possessed clean histories. Walter tentatively picked out two reasonably intact transports to bring their mechs down to the surface.
Fada and the fast-reaction squad had been assigned to the second wave after Walter and his closest men arrived first. Ves had been assigned to the second wave as well along with some supplies and some technicians.
He stared at the projection of the Glowing Planet. Now that they arrived in orbit, Ves got to enjoy a beautiful picture of a planet in chaos.
For some reason, the planet predominately glowed green. Its scarred and broken land masses showed that it had suffered enormously from the event that threw it off into space. Further exotic activity had further damaged the continents until they became an ugly manifestation of the raw forces of the universe.
"How rare are treasure troves like this?"
"Planets like these come from the galactic heartland." Ves explained to Fadah as they boarded the passenger compartment of the transport. "They're not exactly common, but they're abundant enough that it won't alarm an entire star sector. It's just another Tuesday for them as far as they're concerned."
"I guess that's why they use the work junk exotics. As if any exotic is as plain as sand."
The entire incident showcased the disparity between the galactic rim and the galactic heartland. Before the Age of Mechs, humanity had undergone a feverish expansion into the stars. As they traveled towards the galactic center, they came across increasingly more valuable and abundant exotics, to the point where most of the pioneers hardly looked back to Earth.
The galactic rim was the largest but most resource-depleted portion of the galaxy. Sometimes a treasure hunter scored a lucky find, but its value always amounted to a fraction of what someone from the galactic heartland earned in a day.
The transport finished loading up the supplies and drifted away from the Happy Jelly. It turned towards the chaotic blackened landscape below and aimed for a spot near the landing site of the Blood Claws.
"Here we go, folks! I suggest you hold on to your crash seats, because we'll be going in fast!"
The transport shuddered severely as it dove towards the surface alongside a Mech Corps vessel that carried a dimensional smoother. The Whaler transport had to endure a punishing descent in order to keep up with the faster Mech Corps ship.
The Glowing Planet didn't possess an atmosphere, but spacetime didn't always work as expected up close. Even within the envelope of the dimensional smoother, the transport still encountered lots of turbulence.
Everyone's crash seats closed up around their bodies in protective pods. The systems governing the transport had judged the situation to be too dangerous.
Inside his seat, Ves quietly waited for the transport to make it through. He held Lucky in his grasp. The cat had grown scared of the intense fluctuations around them.
"It's okay Lucky, we're almost there."
Two agonizing hours later, the transport eased its turbulent flight. They successfully reached the surface of the Glowing Planet. It landed a moment later on a crude landing pad that the first wave prepared after their arrival.
Once the transport shut off its engines and opened up the hatch, everyone released a primal roar to make it out alive.
"Alright, enough hooting around!" Fadah yelled over their comm channel. "Get in your mechs and follow your assignments!"
Similar to Groening IV, the Glowing Planet wasn't able to support human life. Perhaps it might have featured its own alien ecosystem, but getting knocked away from a sun had a tendency to kill off everything living on the surface. Temperatures had reached far below freezing points as well, which forced everyone not inside a mech to wear a bulky hazard suit.
Even Ves didn't dare test his genetically modified body against the frightening chill that pervaded the planet. No sun rested in the sky to warm up its surface. No atmosphere allows life to breathe any air or propagate any sounds.
When Ves stepped out to the surface, he admired the raw beauty of the broken landscape before him. Among the shards of broken rocks and the ominous glow of green, Ves enjoyed a sensation of wonder and purpose.
"Maybe I should have been a treasure hunter. Setting foot in the unknown always seems to buoy me up."
He let down Lucky on the rocky ground and looked whether he did anything special. The gem cat had already recovered from the harrowing descent, and began to sniff the nearby terrain.
His mouth opened up in a meow that couldn't be heard due to the lack of atmosphere. It didn't matter much as Lucky raced off towards a nearby hill of rocks. Lucky deftly clawed a couple of useless pieces apart until he came across a mineral vein that glowed in low green.
The mechanical cat sliced a generous portion from the rock with his energy claws and began to shop it into finer bits before beginning to gobble them all up.
Ves laughed at the sight. It figured that Lucky would be able to locate any nearby exotics. Lucky loved to eat exotics, though Ves never brought him much due to the expense involved. The LMC would have to go bankrupt in order to satisfy his pet's rapacious appetite.
"Looks like that isn't the case here. The minerals also aren't as tough and hard to find as those found in Groening IV."
While that made it easier for the Whalers to extract some extra wealth, it also presented an irresistible draw to unsavory people. The pirates wouldn't be content to watch on while the rest started pulling riches from the soil.
The Whalers could celebrate for now, but once the riffraff moved into action, they'd be hard-pressed to keep their lives.
Chapter 284
The first set of mining equipment went up within the hour. The Whalers didn't bring much gear, and much of what they acquired must have been third-hand equipment at best.
As predicted, the machines quickly broke down.
"Ves!" Someone called out over the local channel. "Come over and help us fix this piece of junk!"
With quiet resignation, Ves stopped his inspection of a mech that hadn't been able to start up and jogged over with his bulky hazard suit. The mining gear in question consisted of an anchored drill meant to dig its way into the ground in a slanted angle. It didn't cost very much due to its low-tech principles, but the drill bits often wore out quickly.
"What's the problem?"
"The machine crashed right as it was about to get past the top layer!" The techie in charge of the gear complained. "I kicked the control box a couple of times but it isn't doing anything!"
"Maybe it will help if you refrain from kicking the control circuits." Ves grumbled to the man. "Let me take a look at this rusted junk. My guess is this thing is already at its limit."
The amount of people who still believed they could fix a broken machine by slapping it around could form an entire first-rate superstate. Even mech technicians fell into this belief sometimes.
Contrary to his belief, the mining drill had been acquired relatively recently. Whoever sold it to the Whalers did a decent job at patching it up. Its endurance should have been sufficient to operate at these conditions.
"The machine is sound." Ves carefully scoured the exterior of the drill. "Nothing seems out of place. It's worn, but not broken. Maybe it just ran out of power."
"That's impossible! It just received a fresh energy cell!"
Ves called for a scanner while continuing to inspect the drill. It hadn't hit anything hard and it didn't look like it had been tampered with. Nothing had jammed the mechanisms eithers.
He wanted to check the programming of the machine as well, but the lack of power prevented him from doing so. He'd have to pull the processors from the mining gear in order to inspect the software, and that was a lot of hassle for a single broken drill.
Once someone brought over a man-sized scanner, Ves used it to inspect the innards of the machine. Even though he didn't specialize in designing mining equipment, the simple drill in front of him didn't pose any challenge to him. He easily identified most components and reasonably surmised they didn't look broken.
"I found nothing strange so far." Ves concluded after he finished scanning the entire drill. "The hardware looks okay. I'm inclined to say it's either the software or the power supply that's at fault."
"Maybe the Glowing Planet did something to the drill. You know, like overloading its processors and stuff."
"There's no sign of any damage to the processors, but perhaps its programming has been tampered with. I'll have to extract the chips and bring them back to the temporary workshop that's being set up right now."
Still, Ves had a suspicion that the power supply might be at fault. The drill did shut down completely as if its power had disappeared. Ves carefully called for some tools and began to expose the energy cell powering the drill. He carefully inspected the amount of energy.
"This doesn't make any sense. The energy cell is at two-hundred-and-thirteen percent capacity. That's impossible!"
Ves carefully placed the energy cell back into its slot and backed away quickly. An overloaded energy cell could easily blow up in his face. Even his hazard suit and strengthened body wouldn't survive the sheer amount of power released by the explosion.
"When did you last put this energy cell into the drill?"
"Just a couple of hours ago when the transport shipped the mining gear onto the surface! I swear the energy cell looked normal! The drill even said its cell had been charged up to seventy-three percent!"
Energy cells deteriorated over time and when people used them. It wouldn't be surprising for an energy cell as old as this to charge up to seventy-three percent.
"So how did it suddenly end up with more than triple its maximum charge?"
No one could answer that question. All of the technicians around Ves appeared clueless. They would have scratched their heads if their hazard suits weren't in the way.
"Okay, just set this energy cell aside and put another one in it. Better yet, just hook it up to something else and drain it. Just do it somewhere quiet."
No one wanted to deal with a potential bomb, so Ves assigned a random technician to deal with the problem.
Everyone thought that should have been the end of it, until two different mining equipment shut down at the same time. The Whalers placed more importance on their mining gear than their mechs at this point, so Ves had to pull away from a broken mech again to inspect the disabled machines.
Once might have been a coincidence, but twice and thrice should be a deliberate occurrence. "I'm going to make a guess and say that these diggers are suffering from the same problem."
Different from the drill, the diggers excelled at burrowing into terrain. They also strengthened the tunnels they carved out, allowing mechs to tread inside without risking a collapse.
Ves didn't approach the machines himself this time. He called for a couple of bots and carefully controlled them through his comm. They carefully exposed the energy cell and carried some tools to test their charge.
Both cells possessed way more charges than they should. "This cell is two-and-a-half times overcharged, while that other cell holds more than five times the amount of energy it should!"
Everyone backed off even further from the digging machine that held that remarkable energy cell. Not one of them possessed the courage to do something about it. Ves had to tackle the problem himself by using bots to extract the energy cells and throwing them far away.
Panic had a way of spreading quickly. Word of the faulty energy cells had reached the entire makeshift camp. No one wanted to operate the mining equipment in person. They all stepped away from the machines and tentatively controlled them by remote, which lowered their efficiency by half.
The problem had become so severe that Walter showed it in person. "What's this nonsense about overcharged power cells?!"
"Sir, the energy cells aren't sound. Any cell that's put into a mining gear will randomly acquire several times the energy it should have been able to hold at its best. I've inspected some of the cells and even disassembled one after I drained its charge. Nothing points to any foul play. I even checked their logs. They've all been charged up to their safest maximum capacity."
That didn't say much to Ves, as the logs could have easily been tampered with by a malicious actor. Even Melkor with his limited training could have accomplished such a job on outdated hardware such as this. If only the Whalers brought some actual security experts on the expedition. He could have left the puzzle to them instead of relying on his limited computer skills.
Walter grumbled a bit underneath his strengthened piloting helm. "Whatever it is, it's affecting our earnings. We aren't getting much of a share from the Blood Claws, so we have to do our own digging to make the expedition worth it. We can't afford to let these machines go idle!"
"I really don't know what's going on. It could be sabotage or it could be the Glowing Planet acting up. I suggest you contact the Blood Claws and tell them about the problems we are having. Maybe they are dealing with something similar."
They briefly waited while Walter switched to another channel. All of the interference output by the Glowing Planet made wireless communications almost impossible, but the Blood Claws extended hardline connections to each peripheral group.
"The guy I spoke to wants us to send them all the relevant data." Walter gruffed after he switched back to the local channel. "He seems really pushy about it as well. Makes me think they're dealing with the same problem."
That ruled out sabotage as a possible cause. His hunch that the Glowing Planet might be responsible for the faulty energy cells grew stronger.
Ves wordlessly passed the logs and other files he gathered to Walter, who sent them on to the Blood Claws.
"He shut the channel!"
"I don't think the Blood Claws can give you answers at this time."
If the problem turned out to be widespread, then that changed the entire equation. Both mechs and mining equipment had to be used with care. Ves specifically included mechs into his consideration because they used the same type of energy cells that powered the mining equipment.
"What about fuel-based energy cells?" A tech suddenly spurted out. "They should still work fine, since they don't contain any pure energy."
The idea had a lot of merit. Ves couldn't believe a Whaler actually made such a keen observation before he came up with it himself. "That's a brilliant idea. Let me check something out. Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone."
He left Walter and the clueless technicians behind and raced off towards where the fast-reaction squad had holed up. "Fadah!"
"Yeah, Ves?" The old man yawned as he tried to sleep inside his bulky reinforced piloting suit. "What's the hurry?"
"Get inside the Blackbeak and do some exercises."
"Why the hell would I do that? My mech needs to be in tip-top shape in case any trouble arrives."
"We're already in trouble! Haven't you heard about the overcharged energy cells? It's not only affecting us, but the Blood Claws as well! I need you to get inside the Blackbeak and expend its fuel. We need to test whether fuel-based energy cells are affected by this phenomenon as well."
Even though Fadah grumbled about missing his routine afternoon nap, he knew that Walter would get on his back if he continued to refuse. He reluctantly climbed into the cockpit and activated the mech.
"Okay, just find a place where you won't be disturbed and try to drain its fuel as fast as possible."
"Hah! I can do it fast!"
Once he stepped inside his mech, it was as if Fadah turned into an entirely different pilot. He enthusiastically brought the Blackbeak forward and found a nearby empty valley to practice some advanced techniques.
While the complicated movements should cause the fuel cell to drain faster than usual, Ves designed the Blackbeak to last for an extremely long time.
Its low-burning power reactor and highly efficient engine didn't give the Blackbeak any means to drain its power quickly, unlike a cannoneer mech that could easily drain its energy reserves as long as it paid attention to its heat management.
Ves didn't expect a result, and even if nothing happened to the Blackbeak's energy supply, it didn't mean that other fuel-based machines were immune. Ves tracked down several other fuel-based mechs and harried their pilots into draining their reserves.
As Ves watched the mechs go off on their jaunts, he sighed inside his helmet. "Even if these fuel-based mechs are immune, it won't help our mining equipment at all. They're all powered by pure energy."
He guessed that even the more sophisticated mining equipment in the hands of the Blood Claws and the Mech Corps operated on energy as well. It was safer, more compact and easy to slot into a variety of machines.
Right now, the entire Whaler mining operation had ground to a virtual halt. Hardly any operator pushed their machines. They feared setting off the energy cells inside of them should they draw a lot of power.
Ves figured that the best miner in their camp should be Lucky. His gem cat behaved like a connoisseur who sneaked into a top-class banquet. Trash exotics didn't interest him anymore. Only the choice of exotics deserved consumption.
Despite the massive power consumption of his energy claws, Lucky probably gained that back and more with each rare exotic broken down in his stomach. His energy reserves must be bulging with power.
"Wait a minute." Ves stood up in alarm. How could Lucky accumulate so much energy when he already reached the threshold of evolving to the next level? Only one thing could explain it. "Damn it! Lucky! Where are you?!"
Chapter 285
Lucky could take care of himself. Ves had no doubt about that. The gem cat gifted by the System possessed a keen mind and a lively personality. His bronze-like mechanical body also hid a number of cutting-edge technologies that should have been exclusive to the first-rate superstates.
Still, his cat worked like any other animated pet and ran on an extremely compact high-capacity energy source. Ves suspected that his shield generator, which was another source of consternation right now, utilized the same type of energy storage as well.
All of that energy pressed into a tiny battery made for a very volatile package. Who knew how much overcharge these super-advanced could actually take.
"The regular batteries haven't blown up yet so far. That should be a good sign."
Ves didn't want to contemplate the sight of scattered bronze-like parts. He quickly activated his comm and activated the tracker, only to come up with an error message that stated that it couldn't find a signal.
"Damn this interference!"
He ran around asking people if they saw his cat. Lucky became a known figure during their stay with the Whalers, so everyone recognized him on sight.
"Your fancy cat? Oh yeah, he just raced towards the right an hour ago."
"Lucky dug up something near the mining drill over there before turning around to go the other way."
"That little critter stole my shiny ore! I was holding on to it when he swiped it from my fingers and ran off over the hill over there!"
Hearing the stories about Lucky made it clear his cat didn't suffer any ill effects as of yet. In fact, he seemed downright exuberant. That could be good or bad. Good in that Lucky thought he wasn't in danger. Bad in that he continued to take in more energy, thereby ratcheting up his energy density to a catastrophic level.
"Where are you, Lucky?"
After spending more than an hour chasing spurious leads, Ves finally tracked Lucky down in a craggy obsidian valley. Ves found a little mound where Lucky had dug into the rocky ground until he reached a deposit of glowing green chunks.
As if he had no care in the world, Lucky lazily munched the pieces he dislodged with his claws. The cat winked his eyes and swished his tails like he enjoyed the best buffet in his entire life.
"Lucky! There you are!"
His cat turned around and gazed at him for a second before turning back to resume his never-ending eating spree. To Lucky, Ves didn't appear to be as important as highly energetic exotic minerals.
The lack of air on the Glowing Planet prevented any sounds from being propagated, but Lucky somehow found a way to transmit his voice through the local comm channel.
"Let me take a look at you. I need to see whether you're about to burst from all of your consumption."
Ves carefully took out a portable scanner and tried to look inside Lucky's innards. Unfortunately, Lucky's extraordinary exterior blocked any scans, not that Ves understood how Lucky worked in the first place.
He could only judge his cat's exterior for signs of any danger. Last Ves saw him, his cat featured glowing blue lines in the gaps between his outer plates. The stronger the glow, the more energy his cat had accumulated.
Right now, the glow had turned into a shade of green, the same shade emitted by the Glowing Planet in fact. Lucky might have acquired some of the traits endemic to the planet.
"What's going on with you? Why are you glowing green all of a sudden?"
Typical for Lucky, the cat ignored him entirely. Ves had already learned he wouldn't be able to get his pet to respond. Lucky also wouldn't appreciate being taken away from this treasure of a planet.
"Alright, I give up. Just continue too much if you wish. Just don't go too far and stop when you feel bloated."
"Meow!"
Even though the overcharge phenomenon concerned Ves a lot, he slowly started to suspect that the energy cells might not be as unstable as he thought. He returned to the camp of the Whaler and approached the boss.
"Ves." Walter gruffed at him over a private comm. "Did you figure out what's going on yet?"
"Not really. I think the planet or a particular combination of exotics are to blame for the overcharged energy cells. It's able to affect any kind of cell that works on energy, and I don't think it's limited to mech-sized energy cells. The batteries that power our comm and other equipment should be susceptible to the phenomenon as well, although we haven't seen any smaller gear being affected as of yet."
"So what does this all mean for us?"
Ves paused for a moment. He was about to make a very dangerous suggestion. "I think we should continue to work with the overcharged energy cells. We should test them as well, but we can't wait for the results."
The biggest issue right now was that the Vesians, pirates and other opportunistic scum would move in eventually. When that happened, the Mech Corps shifted to phase 2, retracting most of its mining operations around the planet to fortify one single red zone.
The Blood Claws and Walter's Whalers would also have to abandon this promising mineral-rich area and move towards the edge of the perimeter set by the military.
As expected, Walter gave in to the suggestion. "You're right. This is the best time to be mining exotics. We can't afford to sit around and wait for a miracle to save us."
They announced their decision to the Whalers, which stunned them into a stupor.
"I ain't gonna work with these bombs! It's suicide!"
"It's not safe to pilot any mech!"
"SHUT UP!" Walter yelled over the channel, overriding everyone else's complaints. "We came here to make our fortune, and we always knew that we'd be facing danger. Compared to fighting other mechs, what's so scary about a few supercharged energy cells?"
While his words made sense, it didn't reassure them at all. Enemies haven't shown up yet so it was easy for them to dismiss those distant threats. In contrast, they sat right next to those overcharged energy cells.
Ves left the job of motivating the men to work for Walter, since it directly affected the earnings of his gang. For once, Ves didn't have to kick around the Whalers by himself, leaving him free to investigate the overcharged energy cells. He ordered the technicians to gather a couple of the cells in question.
"What do you want to do with these cells?" A techie asked as his bot delivered the cell to a pile of other affected cells. None of the technicians went close to those cells.
"The first thing I want to find out is what happens if we blow it up."
To prevent any panic among the men, Ves decided to conduct his experiments far away from the camp. He brought a cell to an open depression behind a mass of jagged hill and moved behind cover. He already affixed an explosive to the cell in question.
After setting up some sensors and scanners, Ves detonated the charge.
A massive blast engulfed the site. Electric discharge blasted out and reached out over fifty meters away. Nobody up close could have withstood the blast.
From the readings Ves had made, he determined that the mining equipment had no chance of making it out unscathed, especially since the energy cells had to be placed inside of them where the manufacturers only included basic safeguards against accidental discharges.
Just to be sure, Ves blew up a variety of overcharged cells. Some only carried an overcharge of 150 percent, while the worst ones boasted an overcharge close to 700 percent.
The results didn't reassure him at all. The power of the blast was directly proportional to the amount of overcharge contained within the affected cells. By his reckoning, the 700 percent cell could even overpower the Blackbeak's impressive armor system.
Ves used his last cells to test whether they had become more volatile. He controlled a couple of bots to heap abuse on the poor cells. From throwing them from above, to dropping increasingly heavier rocks on them, Ves didn't spare any mercy for the devices.
Surprisingly enough, the cells held up. Their designs came with many safeguards that prevented them from blowing up, and all of these measures worked as advertised despite their lackluster quality.
Walter's Whalers might buy cheap components, but they made sure they selected the most rugged ones in their price range. All of the energy cells they used came from reputable manufacturers whose designs had been tested over and over in the frontier.
Once Ves finally pushed an energy cell past its limit, its final safeguards ensured that most of the energy discharge harmlessly fried the ground.
"Strange. Why do the safeguards still work despite dealing with such a massive amount of energy?"
Ves ordered the bots to pack up the scanners and bring them back to the pack while he mused about the issue. The entire overcharge phenomenon seemed strange. They blew up with incredible fanfare if affected by an explosion, but regular physical abuse seemed to treat them like they didn't hold an overcharge at all.
The results led him to a strange but compelling conclusion. He immediately sought out Walter and opened up a private channel.
"The men reported lots of flashes over the hill. Did you find out what's the big deal about these cells?"
"I think I figured out what's going on. It's not that these energy cells suddenly received an injection of excess energy. In the perspective of the energy cells, they always contained the same amount of charge."
Walter couldn't wrap his head around the explanation. "So it's an illusion? Is it all fake?"
"If the overcharge phenomenon is an illusion, then it shouldn't have forced the mining equipment to shut down. You see, the energy cells think they contain a normal charge, but the mining equipment detect they're dealing with an overcharge. This triggers their safeguards and forces them to shut down."
That still didn't illuminate the issue to Walter, so Ves dumbed down his explanation even further.
"Look, imagine a bottle of water. The bottle thinks it's filled to the brim. There's nothing unusual about that. However, when someone picks it up and is about to take a couple of swallows, he sees the bottle is under an immense amount of pressure. Somehow, the bottle is carrying twice the amount of water than it should have fit."
"If that's the case, then the bottle shouldn't be able to fit that much liquid at all." Walter replied. "Your example is rubbish."
Ves shrugged off the complaint. "Actually, it's possible if you use extreme pressure, but forget about all that. Just assume that the bottle is carrying three times as much water than it ought to. Now, you have a bottle that thinks it contains a normal amount, and an outside observer who sees that it holds an excess amount of water."
"Then who is right?"
"Both of them. Neither of them."
That really got Walter lost again. Ves sighed and palmed his head, only to bump his helmet with his hazard suit's gauntlet.
"It's complicated, I know, but just bear with me. Rather than say one side is right and one side is wrong, it's more apt to say that the Glowing Planet has affected the fabric of reality in such a way that a quantity of water is somehow turned into a larger quantity of liquid, but it still takes up as much space as the smaller quantity."
"And this means?"
"Ultimately, it means the overcharged energy cells won't blow up on their own. It takes a lot of effort to get them to explode, just like what would already happen to a regular energy cell. Basically, you can throw the energy cells around and you won't risk any explosions in this way, but if you place them in front of a laser rifle and fire at them, you'll get a massive blast in return."
This changed the rules of engagement in a major way. The mining equipment wouldn't explode from regular use, though the technicians would have disable some of their safeguards to get them to work.
The real danger came from combat. Both mechs and mining equipment that contained any overcharged energy cells became extremely susceptible to catastrophic explosions.
The worst thing about it was that the problem would only get worse. As time went on, more and more energy cells continued to receive an overcharge. By the end of the week, Ves predicted that pretty much every energy cell based on direct energy turned into a potential bomb.
The only cells that remained free of the problem consisted of fuel-based energy cells like the one he incorporated in the Blackbeak.
"That reminds me, how much progress has Fadah made in draining his mech's energy reserves."
Chapter 286
The Whalers went back to work while the Technicians modified every machine. They manually disabled the safeguards that prevented them from working if they detected any abnormalities from their energy cells.
It all put the workers operating the mining equipment on pins and needles. They hardly became enthusiastic about the prospect of working next to potential bombs.
"I didn't sign up for this! Even slaves have it better than this!"
Walter raced down towards the idiot who said that over the local channel and knocked his helmet with a meaty fist. "Shut up you idiot! How can you call yourself a Whaler when you cower away before an enemy has even shown up? Stop dragging your feet and get back on that machine!"
Ves felt a vindictive sense of satisfaction at seeing Walter try to push his men and women to work. He finally reaped what he sowed for making it normal for his men to skip out on their work.
Still, if the mining operators had it bad, then the mech pilots had it worse. Their high-powered mechs burned through energy as fast as Lucky munched through minerals.
Not only did mechs carry lots of energy cells, they also used more potent types that crammed as much energy in as little space as possible. While they came with the latest and most advanced safeguards available to their manufacturers, it still didn't detract from the fact that they blew up under certain circumstances.
Now, all those energy cells slowly turned into portable bombs slotted straight into the spines of every mech. Ves estimated that around eighty percent of all mechs ran on energy cells. Mechs that ran on fuel cells typically enjoyed less popularity due to the difficulties involved with resupply.
In fact, the Whalers themselves had to borrow a few containers of medium-density mech-grade fuel to keep the Blackbeak running.
Ves approached Blackbeak. He ordered Fadah to exercise the mech and see whether it showed any abnormalities with regards to its power supply. Right now, a technician replaced the spent fuel cells, showing that the exercise had finally finished.
"Did anything stand out when you used up all of its fuel?"
Fadah yawned behind his helmet. 'Yeah, the mech lasted far too long. This rogue planet's reduced gravity also isn't helping much. Your mech is so goddamn efficient that I had to dive into the operating system and crank up the power past its ordinary limits."
That didn't sound so good to Ves. "Overloading your mech won't do it any good. Now I'll have to check your Blackbeak again for any faults."
"Whatever. In any case, the Blackbeak worked like a charm. Every move is light and responsive and the power draw looks normal as well."
Ves confirmed Fadah's observation by inspecting the logs. Everything operated within parameters. The fuel cells hadn't suddenly become stuffed with additional fuel, and the power reactor also functioned as normal.
It was as if the Blackbeak cheerfully went about its day while most of its fellow mechs developed diseases.
This finding came as a huge relief to Fadah. "Looks like enemies won't be able to pop me in a single hit."
The news spread quickly, and over the next couple of hours, Ves received word from the Blood Claws that they observed the same results, barring some exceptions. Certain ranged weapons drew their power from magazines instead of a mech's internal power supply. These mechs still remained vulnerable to the overcharge phenomenon even if the mechs themselves ran on fuel.
"There's nothing we can do about it." Ves told the people who asked for a fix. "As far as I'm aware, the Glowing Planet is emitting a field that changes the properties of the energy cells on the fly. We can't even detect it, let alone block it from affecting our gear."
"Don't we have the dimensional smoother to protect us from this stuff?"
"The dimensional smoother is not a miracle device. It's designed to fulfill a very specific role. Its main job is to stabilize the surrounding gravitics so people won't get turned inside out or get thrown into orbit all of a sudden. You'd need a different machine to affect electromagnetic fluctuations."
The Whalers, the Blood Claws and every other force on the planet eventually resumed their work. After the first modified machines operated normally, people started to let down their guards. Ves had been right that the energy cells wouldn't blow up on their own if they received a tiny bump. It took a lot more effort to get them to explode.
A couple of days went by as everyone on the planet hurried to extract as much exotics as possible. As long as nobody attacked their mechs or equipment, they didn't have to be afraid of anything.
For some reason, the Glowing Planet didn't agree. Ever since they made landfall, the men started to suffer from hallucinations. They saw things that shouldn't be there, talked to people who already died and even thought they'd been sent to an alternate universe.
Only one in thousand reported abnormalities like this, and everyone else dismissed them as paranoid delusions triggered by anxiety. No one wanted to admit that the Glowing Planet had even more weirdness in store for them. Half of the energy cells they brought to the surface had already become overcharged.
Two developments in space delivered bad news to the forces on the planet. The Bright Republic's mortal enemy had finally made their move.
"The Vesians are coming!"
The massive Vesian armada consisted of over two-thousand ships, the majority of which carried a mix of spaceborn and landbound mechs. Sending so many ships must have meant the Vesians had committed to a battle for supremacy over the Glowing Planet. They obviously played for keeps and angled to take its bountiful wealth away from the Republic.
"We only have three more days until the Vesians reach orbit! Mine as much as we can, because we'll be moving camp in two days!"
The workers finally disregarded their concerns about safety in an effort to dig up as much higher quality exotics as possible. They left the ubiquitous junk exotics aside in favor of smaller quantities of ores that yielded tiny amounts of pure exotics. The Whalers didn't possess the necessary facilities to process the ores on site, so they had to leave the bulk materials behind.
During this time, the mercenaries finally arrived over the glowing planet. A significant number of mercenaries hired themselves to the Republic, enabling them to make use of the 4th division's dimensional smoothers.
Still, despite being in their camp, the Mech Corps didn't trust them very much, leaving them to make landfall in some of the least active zones on the Glowing Planet. The mercenary lords probably aimed to avoid contesting the hotspots in favor of accumulating a steady amount of exotics.
Not every mercenary lord decided to bat for the Republic. They wanted to remain independent in order to reap the richest harvests. The mercenary lords in charge of those fleets held back their forces at the outer edge of the Glowing Zone in order to wait for an opportunity to pounce.
That left the scattered pirate groups. Each outfit stayed on their own. Unlike the mercenaries, the pirates lacked a charismatic leader that could draw the separate groups together. They seemed destined to remain scattered and distrustful.
That was until the notorious Dragons of the Void arrived.
They came with only three hundred ships, many of which appeared to be of dubious quality. Ves was old friends with the Dragons of the Void, so he knew about their modus operandi.
"Most of those ships are cannon fodder. Don't mistake their crew as part of the Dragons of the Void. They're actually brainwashed to the point where they'd eagerly meet their deaths if the Dragons gave the order. The real core of the Dragon fleet consists of only a dozen ships at the center of their formation."
Fadah frowned at that news. "If they treat those ships as trash, then they'll treat their mechs the same way. Do you reckon they'll be scared of any overcharged energy cells?"
"The leaders will probably see it as a welcome surprise." Ves pressed his lips. "I can already imagine them looking forward to strapping additional energy cells onto their mechs and sending them off as suicide bombers."
The Bright Republic enjoyed the home advantage of being nearest to the Glowing Planet. They'd also been able to forge a loose cooperation with the non-governmental forces that nominally swore allegiance to the Republic. The Mech Corps continually reinforced the 4th division with ships and mechs, but their efforts were hobbled by the need to defend vital territories such as Bentheim and their bases.
If every non-Republic force decided to gang up on the Mech Corps, they'd be hard-pressed to last more than a couple of days.
"Keep watch on the mercenaries who haven't picked a side." Fadah advised Ves as they continued to tweak the Blackbeak. "As soon as one gets the upper hand, the mercenaries who remain free up to that point will throw their entire weight behind the strongest faction."
Ves found that advice to be perplexing. "Most of those mercs are based in the Republic. Many of them have families and friends who are Republican citizens as well."
"Do you think that matters if they can become rich overnight? They'll sell out their own mothers in a heartbeat if they can earn a couple of million credits."
All of this led to an increasingly tense mood in the camp. The Whalers regretfully secured their harvest and packed up their gear as they waited in line to be brought to their new location by their small rickety transports.
The transfer finished a day later. This time, the Whalers maintained serious expressions as they worked to set up a defensive position.
Using prefabricated structures provided by the Blood Claws, they built a tall but easily erected set of walls. To prevent any aerial mechs from bypassing the walls with impunity, the Whalers also prioritized the construction of the anti-air turrets.
The only snag came when Walter ordered the defenses be powered by a central power source.
"These laser turrets are designed with energy cells in mind." Ves replied when Walter ordered him to make it happen. "I can't just snap my fingers and make them run on a power line!"
"I don't care. I don't want these turrets to be a hazard in our defenses. I'm hardly able to get my pilots to keep piloting their mechs. I can't deal with a base that's riddled with bombs. Everything needs to be run from two or three underground power sources, nothing more."
Ves quietly shook his head as Walter turned to yell at someone else. The man had been in an awful mood ever since the overcharge phenomenon shook up his men. The technicians already worked their sweat off by overriding all of the safeties. Now they had to deal with another pile of work by hooking up the turrets to a central power supply.
At least the Blood Claws had been generous enough to supply a few spare reactors. Their condition looked decent as well. Unlike the Whalers, the hardened Blood Claws didn't stint on logistics.
"Let's get to work." He sighed, and began to gather up some mech technicians to assist him with the task.
Even though he grumbled about the job in front of Walter, it actually didn't require too much thought to hook up the laser turrets to a different power source. The feature had already been baked into their design. Ves merely needed to teach the mech technicians to make the right connections.
The Vesians would arrive near orbit in less than a day. Anything could happen at that point. Currently, the Bright Republic's mech carriers would be fools to stay in orbit. They'd likely pull out later in the day in order to give themselves more maneuvering room while still staying close enough to the Glowing Planet to provide support for their troops on the ground.
"This will be the first time I'll face the Vesians in open combat."
"Hah! They're not as scary as they look once you look past their craziness." Fadah remarked over a beer. They both took a break from their tasks and left their bulky suits to eat dinner. "I fought the Vesians in the last war. They always press forward, and you can expect their lower ranks to never give up. The officers are always the first ones to run away once the battle turns against them. Pff. Nobles."
A low anticipation had built up inside Ves for weeks. Even though the prospect of facing an extremely well-armed mech force terrified him to the bone, he also felt some eagerness to test his mech against them. The Blackbeak's entire purpose centered around fighting the Vesians.
"Whatever happens, tomorrow we'll be tested."
Chapter 287
The Glowing Zone reached out around five light-hours away from the Glowing Planet. It was an empty mass of space that contained virtually nothing except the malignant influences of the exotics residing on the Glowing Planet. The further you went in, the more susceptible to anomalies you became.
All of this rested on probability. The chance of crashing your ship went up to a hundred percent once you reached close enough to orbit the Glowing Planet. Even if the dimensional smoothers helped with negating the worst of the dangers, the Glowing Planet still found ways to torment the visitors disturbing its silent vigil.
Ghanso Larkinson chewed on a stimulant as he stared out of the porthole of his tiny shuttle. He recently finished an additional training course and had been transferred to the 1st Volari Starhawks of the 4th Bentheim Division.
"Are you nervous, kid?" An older mech pilot casually asked from the seat next to Ghanso's. "The big bad Vesians are less than a day away. If you want to back out from the fight, you best pull out now."
"I'm a Larkinson. Fighting the Vesians is in my blood."
"Hah! A Larkinson, are you? Then I hope you don't fumble about like Melinda Larkinson. I would have whooped Captain Vicar within five minutes!"
Ghanso believed the older pilot, but that comparison wouldn't have been fair, considering that Captain Vicar was still in his early thirties.
The shuttle slowly entered the belly of a fleet carrier and parked itself on a busy loading platform. Every transfer debarked from the shuttle and followed the navigational guidelines projected by their military-grade comms.
Ghanso and the old man happened to be assigned to the same unit. When it became clear they walked to the same destination, the man introduced himself.
"Looks like we'll be putting our lives in each other's hands." The man casually laughed while scratching balding gray hair. Unlike most other men, the pilot didn't bother seeking any treatment for his baldness. "You can call me Alex Dirge. I'm a tried and true space knight pilot."
That garnered some respect from Ghanso. In the vast distance of space, most battles occurred across very long distances. Lasers and missiles formed the bedrock of a spaceborn mech squad's armaments. Sometimes, enemies veered close enough to make railguns and ballistic rifles effective.
Yet spaceborn mechs almost never resorted to melee weapons. Mechs in space possessed too much mobility for them to be pinned down. A rifleman mech always massed lighter than a knight mech, so it could easily dash away from any knight that tried to approach it from afar.
This fundamental disparity relegated the space knight archetype to a purely defensive role, whose only job was to absorb enemy missile fire that would have otherwise struck their allies. There was nothing wrong with that role, but the sheer amount of firepower being exchanged made it very difficult for space knights to remain relevant throughout the battle.
"I should be thanking you for covering my back." Ghanso said sincerely. "I'm a laser rifleman, so I'll be counting on you to block the Vesian missile volleys."
He truly respected anyone who piloted a space knight and survived long enough to the point of growing grey hair. The Vesian penchant for fielding lots of missileers gave the pilots of the Republic a lot of appreciation for the underutilized defensive mech type.
The pair reached a hangar that predominantly serviced spaceborn mechs. They followed the end of the line projection by their comms and met their new commanding officer, who turned out to be a middle-aged female captain with violet eyes and short black hair.
After a brief introduction in which the pair passed over their orders, the captain looked at them with an eager glint in her eyes.
"I'm really glad you made it in time. You're sorely needed to replace a pair of cowards who chickened out when they heard we'd be facing the Vesians in the first wave."
"Seriously, ma'am? A couple of Volari Starhawks actually lost their nerves?" Alex asked with incredulity in his tone.
"Hey, don't get caught up by all the propaganda. Sure, we're the Volar Starhawks, one of the Republic's best spaceborn regiments, but not all of us are crack troops."
Captain Rynsel had been with the Volar Starhawks for a fair amount of time, but like many other mech pilots, she stagnated at the upper limit of what an advanced pilot could reach. As Rynsel grew older, the prospect of ever advancing to expert pilot became further out of reach.
This diminished her importance to the brass. She only made it to captain because she also possessed enough skills to lead a regular platoon.
"You're going to have to become used to your mechs as fast as possible, because the Vesians are expected to reach orbit at the end of the day."
Alex grumbled a bit. "They sure are in a hurry. The Vesians must be confident of their numbers."
"We still have the edge in quality." Ghanso quickly replied. "Even if we didn't bring a lot of ships, we made sure to send some of our best. Besides, we also have our allies to soak up some of the incoming fire."
"Heh. Allies. More like parasites. You can't count on gangs and mercenaries to stand up to the Vesians. Mark my words, their ships will find all kinds of excuses to drop out of action."
The Mech Corps had a very dim view on gangs, and barely tolerated their existence due to their uncanny ability to evade crackdowns.
Mercenaries also earned some contempt for two reasons. First, they employed a lot of talentless hacks that failed to pass the entry qualifications of the Mech Corps and often made a mess of things on the battlefield. Second, they also took away talented pilots with promises of better pay.
The two transferred pilots passed over to Lieutenant Fairfax, who led their assigned squad.
"Right." Fairfax spoke as he regarded the younger Ghanso and the older Alex. "It's about time you two showed up. I've been asking for more bodies but the bureaucrats upstairs keep reinforcing the elite squads before I get a turn. As if they don't already have enough resources!"
Privately, Ghanso thought he deserved a spot on those elite squads as well. He was a Larkinson, for the Republic's sake! Still, at least he secured a place amongst the Volari Starhawks, one of the most distinguished spaceborn regiments of the Republic.
The two recruits had very little time to familiarize themselves with their mechs and tweak them to their liking. Ghanso had been assigned to a fairly standard Vhendra, a model developed in-house by a design team working for the Starhawks.
"The Vhendra is an old design, but that means it's been tested over the years. It's a reliable frame, and a classic in the Starhawks." The chief technician explained to Ghanso as he patted the surface of the giant dark blue rifleman mech.. "This one happens to be the Vhendra-S. It's a minor variant that gives you faster flight speed but will last a little less. Its long-range accuracy also won't be as impressive, as the added power to the flight system introduces a lot of extra vibrations."
"I see. That's not what I expected. I specifically noted that I'm a marksman."
"Yeah, and Lieutenant Fairfax has been nagging command for new replacement pilots for ages now. You're the unlucky chap that command has sent to shut him up."
Ghanso had a relatively balanced skill-set for a laser rifleman pilot, but he preferred to pick opponents off from longer ranges. Still, he could roll with the changes. His mech just had to get closer to the enemy in order to land a sure shot.
"Let's take a look and make some quick adjustments,"Ghanso said. "We need to be ready to fight within eighteen standard hours. That's when the Vesians will get in range."
To be honest, eighteen hours was not enough for Ghanso to acclimate himself with a new ride. A mech pilot always required weeks of practice, immersion and tweaking in order to make a mech entirely his own.
The Vesians wouldn't give them the time. The hours went by quickly, and besides a brief but necessary rest, Ghanso worked frenziedly to get the Vhendra-S to behave a little more like its base model.
A red light flashed through the hangar and throughout the rest of the fleet carrier.
"It's time!"
"The Vesians are here!"
A surge of fear and anticipation swept the mech pilots and the crew of the ship. They realized that this might be the outbreak of the latest Bright-Vesia Wars. The Volari Starhawks happened to receive the dubious honor of blunting the first charge.
"Mech pilots, get to your mechs!" Captain Rynsel hollered as she swept up her piloting suit. "We've received orders to deploy within ten minutes, so chop chop!"
The mech technicians had already wrapped up most of their maintenance work, so every mech under Captain Rynsel's command came online in record time.
Alex opened up a private channel to Ghanso. "Hey, little Larkinson. Is this your first deployment?"
"I'm not a rookie. I've fought over six separate engagements against pirates."
"Well, the Vesians are nothing like those ruffians who can't coordinate their mechs to save their lives. We're playing in a whole different league right now. Don't lose your breakfast in the next fight, little Larkinson."
It irked the young Larkinson to be treated like an inexperienced recruit. He was a Larkinson! He grew up hearing stories about fighting the Vesians. And unlike his crippled cousin Ves, his genetics gifted him with sufficient aptitude to fulfill his dreams.
"Don't worry about me. Focus on doing your best in your own mech."
Ghanso went back to finishing his preparations. His Vhendra-S boasted fully charged energy cells and a robust cooling system to vent and store the rapid build-up of heat. This came at the cost of its armor and stealth. The Vhendra series had always been particularly vulnerable to getting locked on by Vesian heat-seeking missiles.
He only hoped that Alex would be able to shield him from the impending attacks.
Captain Rynsel spoke over the platoon channel. "Command is ordering us to standby along with the rest. Only the scouts are deployed so far. We're still waiting to see if the Vesians want to commit to the attack."
A general rule about space combat was that if both sides wanted to avoid combat, they had a million different ways to make it possible. Space was too big, and relative velocities sometimes reached absurd amounts that made it difficult for two different fleets to exchange a single volley.
Most times, a battle in space would only ensue if one force happened to be immobile and therefore vulnerable to attack.
This generally happened in two instances: when a fleet just transitioned from FTL to the edge of a star system, and when a fleet wanted to maintain orbital superiority over a planet, moon or any other object in space.
This time, the Mech Corps had to make a stand near the Glowing Planet. If they yielded control of the planet's skies, the Vesians would be able to bombard their ground forces with impunity.
While the groundside forces already made some headway into digging underground fortifications, they needed a lot more time to set up an effective, bombardment-proof bulwark.
Over the next two hours, the two fleets slowly danced around each other. Ghanso stared at the projection like a hawk, tracking the movements of the various fleet elements. The Vesians had finally come close enough to identify their make-up.
"The vanguard consists of the Grand Chasers! They're fast buggers!"
The Grand Chasers had accrued something of a reputation, and was recognized by both the Vesians and the Brighters as one of the fastest spaceborn mech regiments in the region.
By putting out the Grand Chasers in front, the Vesians signaled that they wanted to test the waters first. The Republic's fleet moved in response, putting forth its lighter elements while keeping its heavier ships and mechs around the transports carrying their dimensional smoothers.
"They're deploying mechs!"
Over a hundred heavy mechs poured out into space. They arrayed themselves in a neat formation before readying their launchers.
"Detecting torpedo launches!"
Each mech launched a dozen torpedoes, all of which took up so much space that the heavy mechs became useless. In any case, the sole purpose of their existence was to circumvent the MTA's taboo of incorporating ship-grade weapons onto ships.
The sight of over twelve-hundred torpedoes burning towards the Vesian fleet sent a chill through Ghanso's back.
"Deploy now!" Captain Rynsel ordered. "Command wants us to help bring those torpedoes down! Don't wait for my orders once you get out. Just start shooting!"
"Hahahaha!" Old man Alex laughed. "What a way to start the war! I hope your aim is decent, Larkinson, because the fleet carrier's survival is in your hands!"
Chapter 288
Vesians had a penchant of starting off any engagement with a massive missile barrage. The Bright Republic's pilots called it the Vesian Welcome Package.
At certain times, the massive Vesian opening salvos disintegrated their targets if they didn't bring enough countermeasures. Even if the defenders did bring enough guns, the chance of a couple of projectiles slipping through could never be eliminated.
Ghanso's Vhedra-S hastily emerged from the launch bay of the fleet carrier and flared its powerful flight systems forward in order to catch up with the formation of his squad.
Even under these dire circumstances, the mech pilots of the Volari Starhawks still maintained their discipline. The high levels of discipline, coordination and logistical support that underpinned the Mech Corps enabled it to wipe the floor with any gang or mercenary corps.
The pilots of the Starhawks followed their training and entered into a predetermined matrix formation that maximized each ranged mech's coverage so that they could spread out their anti-missile capabilities.
"Damn it. Why did they send torpedoes this time?"
Captain Rynsel passed down word from command on the comm channel. "The incoming torpedoes are all old stock. They're using up their aging reserves first, so cheer up folks, because their ECM won't be as sophisticated as the newer ones.
"How old are we talking about?" Old Man Alex asked. "Are they like old-old, like last war surplus?"
"They're using a mix of torpedo designs from the interwar period, so they're not as obsolete as you think."
Ghanso took that as a serious warning not to rely too much on his targeting systems. A rifleman mech pilot like him didn't rely too much on outside aid anyway. While the Vhendra-S variant lacked a bit in extreme range precision, it should be able to make up for it when the torpedoes approached into terminal range.
"Larkinson, Don't forget we're facing torpedoes, not missiles." Lieutenant Fairfax spoke to the side as he brandished his ballistic rifle. "The Vesians design their torpedoes to be tough as hell. They can take a lot of hits and are practically impervious to low-intensity laser fire. It's best to switch to full-powered beams."
He already knew that, thank you. Ghanso already switched his rifle's mode before he even launched from the fleet carrier.
He looked through the optics of his Vhendra-S and stared at the black void of stars. In the distance, he saw nothing but the void, but his mech conveyed hundreds of approaching carriers from the Vesians.
Once he switched the mode of his HUD, the empty void of black lit up in a flare of pinpricks as his mech conveyed the sharks lurking far beyond his range of vision. The eternal night disappeared in a dazzlingly enchanting confluence of light and motion.
"The torpedoes are two minutes away! This is it, lads! Give 'em all you got!"
Only a few mechs among the Starhawks fired their weapons. Only the best sharpshooters had any realistic chance of hitting the torpedoes at this range. Even if everyone else relied on their targeting systems, the ECM and physical juking of the torpedoes ensured that most attempts ended in failure. It was better to hold back until the torpedoes came closer.
Blooms of anti-ballistic missiles flared to life from the midst of the Starhawks. Over ten-thousand small but potent missiles streaked towards the Vesian torpedoes with nothing but their goal in mind. Despite the substantial number of missiles, no one held up their hopes they could catch every torpedo.
The Vesians knew their missiles, and packed their torpedoes full with countermeasures of their own.
As the missiles curved to the side and followed an arcing intercept towards the incoming torpedoes, Ghanso finally received permission to let loose.
"Open fire!"
Ghanso held his mech absolutely still inside the formation and began to open fire with measured beams of lancing hot lasers. His mech didn't possess the sensors to see the result of his first salvo, but the collective observation capabilities of the ships backing up the mechs provided an accurate picture of what happened at the other side.
His initial laser volley hit the head of his targeted torpedo head-on but failed to take it out. The Vesians incorporated a lot of junk exotic alloys in the nose of their torpedoes, ensuring that they wouldn't fold in a single blow.
Fortunately, Ghanso didn't fight by himself. A mech pilot from another squad noted the damage sustained by the torpedo and delivered the coup-de-grace with his precision ballistic rifle. The torpedo's weakened nose couldn't withstand the sudden kinetic impact and its payload detonated in a powerful focused blast that had been designed to punch straight through thick layers of starship hull plating.
By this time, the anti-ballistic missiles they launched also reached the torpedoes. Both waves of projectiles engaged in an elaborate electronic battle as they tried to fool their opposites without getting fooled in turn.
Over three-hundred torpedoes perished outright and around two-hundred more suffered incidental damage to their exterior.
It wasn't enough.
As the torpedoes entered medium range, every mech with a gun opened fire. Even space knights like the one piloted by Old Man Alex fired back with their backup pistols.
Over half of the remaining torpedoes fell into quick succession. The closer range enabled mechs to worry less about accuracy and focus more on firing as fast as their heat management systems could handle the successive build-up of waste energy.
"They're getting close! Only less than three-hundred are left! Kill them now! For a brighter tomorrow!"
Every pilot echoed the slogan. "For a brighter tomorrow!"
A sense of sacred duty filled Ghanso's mind as he spoke those words. His aim grew steadier and his breath grew even as he methodically shot down torpedo after torpedo with the help of his fellow Starhawks.
The spirit of the Starhawks infused his neural connection between his brain and his mech and the two fought closer in sync. His Vhendra-S became an extension of his body as he utilized his substantial training to take down as many torpedoes as they entered their terminal mode.
"They're speeding up!"
The Vesian torpedoes always left the best for last. They kept a fourth of their energy reserves for the final sprint, burning it over the final seconds before impact to ensure a powerful and unavoidable collision for any bulky ship.
"Not enough." Ghanso gnarled as he sent a mental command to override his rifle's safeties. Heat leaked out from the built-in heatsinks in his rifle and warmed up the entire frame, but the Vhendra-S handled the weapon like a machine gun, firing a succession of rapid full-powered laser beams at the rapidly accelerating torpedoes.
He only caught one torpedo while his colleagues destroyed over two-thirds of the torpedoes that made it this far.
"Here they come! Brace yourselves!"
Ghanso ceases his fire and huddles his mech into a ball to expose as little of its frame as possible.
The Republic's ECM successfully fooled twenty-six into hitting non-existent targets. They only found empty space in place of solid ships and detonated quickly after, dealing little damage as few ships had been in range of their concussive blasts.
That left seventeen torpedoes who found their marks. They all rammed into their chosen ships, punching deep into their hulls before detonating in highly devastating explosions that destroyed the smaller combat carriers outright while crippling the fleet carriers.
"The Harmony of Revel is gone!"
"Every person aboard the The Farchis Endymion is dead!"
"Feldman's Ire entire rear half has split apart! She's drifting out of formation!"
The Vesians reaped a terrible toll on the Starhawk fleet, and this was just the opening act. Ghanso became distracted by the cries for help that had somehow snuck their way into the command channels.
The Virulent Remedy had been the closest ship to Ghanso that had suffered a hit. It was a combat carrier, a medium-sized carrier built small and light enough to convey as much mechs to the surface of a planet as possible.
The Remedy didn't stand a chance. The torpedo bore straight through its outer hull before detonating right against its inner layers. The blast ripped through a quarter of her compartments and outright tore apart several critical systems such as the bridge and life support.
A cascade of critical failures piled up in an instant that riddled the Virulent Remedy's tortured hull with scores of secondary explosions. Some of them reached her reactor and damaged its robust but ultimately helpless containment, causing the entire combat carrier to be lost in a massive blast of exotic and radioactive fury.
At least eight-hundred spacers lost their lives aboard the Virulent Remedy.
While a number of mechs and smaller vessels started rescue operations, the rest of the Starhawks readied themselves for the second round. The Grand Chasers hadn't been sitting idle while they launched all those torpedoes.
Captain Rynsel shook the younger pilots from their horror. "I know it looks bad, but the battle isn't over yet! Let the damage control teams take care of the mess. Focus on the enemy in front of you!"
In the next couple of minutes, the Volari Starhawks and the Grand Chasers shifted their formations in response to each other. The Grand Chasers followed an oblique trajectory that aimed to pass the flanks of the Vesian formation.
To be honest, they wouldn't be able to do much damage, but it galled the Mech Corps to remain passive when the Vesians made their firing pass. Thus, the Starhawks boosted away from their damaged ship to intercept the incoming Chasers.
"Alright folks, the command wants us to make a single pass." Captain Rynsel spoke through the channel. "Stay in formation and hit the bastards straight in front of you. Don't get bogged down in dogfights and don't let your squad mates drift off in space if they're immobilized."
Neither the Chasers nor the Starhawks wanted to get entangled in a muddy dogfight at this stage. Any fight that got bogged down in space turned into vulnerable targets to both sides.
Ghanso's Vhedra-S boosted in line with his squad as he worked to cool his mech for the upcoming firing pass. His mech suffered substantial internal damage at the final moment due to all the excess heat and energy running through its systems.
He faced a minor dilemma on whether he should keep pushing his mech or conserve its integrity by holding back some power.
"This is merely the start. It's too early to go all-in."
The Vhedra-S slowly cooled down as Ghanso focused on venting as much heat as possible while lowering its overall output. By the time the Vhedra-S returned to a relatively normal condition, the Grand Chasers neared into effective range.
"Alright, lads! Here they come! Keep firing and keep moving. Don't ever stop!"
The two formations of mechs followed intricate arcing patterns as their squads followed trajectories meant to spoil the aim of anything that shot at them at long range.
Once they approached into closer range, thousands of mech started to open fire against each other.
This time, the Volari Starhawks gained the advantage. The Grand Chasers mostly consisted of lighter mechs. Without their heavy missileers, their formations lacked the punch of the more balanced composition of the Starhawks.
Many Starhawk mechs fell out of formation due to being picked out with focused fire. Each Vesian squad focused on taking out one or two mechs at a time, thus allowing them to compensate for their relatively lighter armament.
Meanwhile, the Starhawks left the choice up to the pilots themselves, as they required less firepower to take out a fragile light mech. Ghanso still found it to be a challenge to actually land a hit against the agile light mechs, but once he succeeded in landing a shot, it often crippled the unlucky target.
"Larkinson! They're shifting fire to you! Dirge, cover him!"
A volley of ballistic fire streamed past the frame of his mech, pulling him out of his target fixation. Ghanso knew he was in trouble and started juking around like a hyperactive monkey.
"Stop bouncing around and get behind me!" Old Man Alex shouted as his space knight valiantly positioned itself in front of the Vhedra-S before it could suffer significant damage. "Stay calm and fire over my shoulder!"
Ghanso had forgotten himself for a moment. He grew angry for his disgraceful behavior and poured his vengeance into his rifle, firing right back at his attackers as they tried to get past the space knight's meaty shield.
"Hahaha! The Grand Chasers don't have the weight to get past my shield!"
The space knight fared well against the Chasers. Their skinny rifles and cannons hardly dented Alex's shield.
"They're getting close!" Lieutenant Fairfax reminded everyone. "Watch your angles and don't get hit from behind!"
Seconds passed as the two formations meshed through each other. A chaotic flurry of shots and hits exchanged in rapid tempo as the Starhawks and the Chasers merged together before breaking apart in the opposite directions.
"I got hit!" Ghanso gritted his teeth as his mech spun away from formation. "My flight system is inoperable. It got hit by debris from the rear!"
Chapter 289
Ghanso Larkinson suffered from an unlucky sequence of events. The Vesians hadn't been able to get past Alex's space knight, so they turned their firepower to an unprotected mech from a nearby squad.
The Starhawk mech in question hadn't expected to be targeted by an entire Vesian squad. The knight in his squad was already shielding another squad mate, so the targeted mech lacked any form of support.
The mech blew up as soon as its pilot ejected into the distance. Some of the shards of the exploded mech happened to have hit Ghanso's mech from behind, thereby dealing significant damage to its fragile flight system
The damage hadn't been extensive, but it took a long time for the flight system to regain its functionality. As Ghanso halted the uncontrolled spin, he looked back to the Starhawk formation to see how well they fared.
"Overall, they held up better than the Grand Chasers. The Starhawks suffered relatively few casualties, but most of the affected mechs had to be written off due to the intensive amount of firepower they sustained.
Even Alex's space knight had its shield chewed up at the end, causing his mech to endure the final volleys on its frontal armor.
"Don't look at me. I'm fine. This is all in a day's work for a space knight."
As the Grand Chasers arced their way back to their own fleet, the Volari Starhawks started to police the battlefield. They turned their formation around and methodically recovered the wrecks while rescuing mech pilots from both sides.
No matter how heated the war between the Vesians and the Brighters got, they quietly maintained a couple of basic rules of conduct. The most important of which was to take prisoners whenever they could and exchange them with each other at a later date.
It helped the two sides conserve their most precious and limited resources, which were trained and capable mech pilots. Such agreements hadn't always been the norm, but after several generations of endless rivalry, both sides saw the need to civilize their conflict in order to prevent their neighbors from casting their aspirations upon them once they exhausted most of their manpower at the end of another war.
Eventually, Ghanso's Vhendra-S had to be hauled back to the fleet carrier. Her hangars had become stuffed with mechs as she welcomed an influx of homeless mechs who lost their original berths aboard the ships targeted by the torpedoes.
Ghanso felt a little bad about the engagement. Any excitement about being a part of the first formal action between the Bright Republic and the Vesia kingdom had disappeared.
"Did we lose the battle?"
"It's hard to say." Old Man Alex replied as he zipped down from the cockpit of his beaten space knight looked like it had taken a stroll through a micrometeor storm. Its frame showed off lots of smaller impact marks. "The Grand Chasers underestimated us. We took out more mechs from our firing pass, and we've been able to capture every living Vesian trapped alive in their cockpits."
"Yeah, but we lost so many ships."
"It could have been worse. Twelve-hundred torpedoes is nothing special. Wait until they gather an entire division and throw out a wave of ten-thousand torpedoes. You'll really taste despair at that point."
In terms of war materiel, the Vesians clearly won the exchange. They took out seventeen ships at the cost of a lot of expensive but ultimately disposable torpedoes.
Yet all was not in vain. The Grand Chasers ships and mechs had to extend past the Vesian lines in order to perform their attack, which made them vulnerable to pursuit. After expending so much torpedoes and mechs, the exhausted Chasers had suddenly become the prey as another regiment of the 4th division initiated pursuit.
Both sides started to maneuver for control over orbit. Regiments shifted around like chess pieces across a large and intricate three-dimensional chess board.
Orbital mechanics played a critical role in the defense of the Glowing Planet. The 4th division took advantage of their proximity to the gravity well by slingshotting their fleet elements to hasten their maneuvers over the Glowing Planet's orbit.
The battle turned into a murky slog. Its outcome still remained in question.
Down on the surface, Ves didn't know one of his cousins experienced combat against the Vesians for the first time. The lack of bandwidth of their ground-side camps limited communication between the forces on the ground and the forces in space to a handful of often-repeated codes. Personal correspondence had no chance of making it through.
Right now, Ves oversaw the final adjustments to the mechs that enabled them to operate despite carrying bundles of bombs inside their frames. The last batch of normal energy cells had fully turned into overcharged ones by the capricious energy field emitted by the Glowing Planet.
After their initial horror passed, a sense of resignation overtook the Whalers. They pretty much accepted that they had to continue piloting their mechs and hope nothing struck their energy cells.
One of the mechs that had been affected happened to be Melkor's Stanislaw. Melkor hadn't made much waves ever since he touched down on the surface. Rather than enter the cockpit, Melkor instead aided the Whalers by shoring up their feeble electronic systems against enemy intrusion.
"How's their information security coming along?"
"Well enough that they'll hold against pirates." Melkor replied as he leaned against the foot of his Stanislaw. "I don't think it'll last more than a second against any Vesian hacking attempts. The Whalers are better off pulling the plugs from their connected systems."
"Sounds awful, but not unexpected. If you've seen the kind of mechs the Whalers are using, you'll realize that the Vesians don't even need to bother with hacking their systems. They can just overrun the entire base."
It felt refreshing for Ves to talk with someone other than a Whaler. Every member of the gang somehow fell into the delusion that they could put up a decent fight against a trained military mech force.
"So what did you do to my Stanislaw?"
"I added some compartments to the Stanislaw's internal architecture. Your energy cells are placed in a seperate box, as it were. It won't prevent your mech from being wrecked if they happen to blow up, but it will increase the odds you'll survive. I've beefed up the armor of your cockpit to make sure you'll make it out alive."
Melkor nodded in satisfaction. "That sounds good, but I know my Stanislaw. It doesn't have much space for all of those things you mentioned."
"That's right. I opted to remove a couple of energy cells and some redundant components. Your Stanislaw won't last as long in the field and it's also a little more fragile to being crippled. Regardless, I think it's better to trade these off in exchange for not getting killed in an instant if an enemy happens to hit your energy cells."
Ves only had time to modify one mech at once. The mech technicians lacked the extensive body of knowledge to develop their own modifications. A few of them had already tried to do so behind his back, and every mech that suffered from their ministries had turned into safety hazards.
When Walter demanded that Ves modify the Whaler mechs to be less susceptible to abrupt explosions, he demanded he start first with his cousin's mech. At the very least, he wouldn't be worrying about Melkor while he sat in the makeshift workshop trying to turn a bunch of rotten ingredients into serviceable meals.
"You know, you told me once that you entered into the Mech Corps after graduating from an advanced academy. Why did you leave?"
"I didn't leave. I was forced out of their rolls at the end of my orientation."
Melkor's tone made it clear he didn't want to talk about it, but the issue had always been nagging at Ves.
"Did you get into a fight, or did you piss off a superior or something?"
"Let's just say I found out something I shouldn't have when I took my hacking hobby a little too far."
Melkor could have uncovered anything from classified documents to illicit dealings from his superiors. Ves had an imaginative mind and ran through dozens of possibilities in quick succession.
"Well, you didn't get killed or anything, so it must not have been something critical enough to earn the ire of the Larkinsons."
Maybe Melkor simply got his hands on some nude recordings or something. Ves tried to stifle his laugh as he finished putting the Stanislaw back together. Once he affixed the final plate, he floated down to the ground and stretched his body.
"It's all done now. Make sure to keep facing the enemy from the front. I know you riflemen have a tendency to turn your mechs to the side sometimes, but try to avoid that because it will expose the side and rear armor to the enemy. I haven't been able to do much with those."
"That's already enough." Melkor clapped Ves on the shoulder. "I'll get back on patrol to get used to the modifications. You stay safe, Ves."
He had a whole line of mechs waiting to be modified, starting with Walter's incredible Urman.
As a mech designer, Ves enjoyed digging into the guts of any remarkable designs, and the Urman offered plenty of excitement. Yet he also harbored some reservations about going through every mech one by one in order to make them more impervious against incidental damage that could set off their energy cells.
"It's going to be an awful slog."
Ves had no one to blame for himself for signing up to this expedition. He got exactly what he wanted, and he already earned a significant share from the income the Whalers expected to earn from their mining gains.
It was too bad that their current location didn't offer as much riches as their old location. The Mech Crops chose to establish their ground-side fortifications in the middle of the most defensive terrain within the red zones. They dragged their allies such as the Blood Claws with them, and in turn the Blood Claws forced the Whalers to take up one of the most awful locations at the flank.
The ever-present green glow had been covered by a gray, sooth-filled smoke cloud. Small but annoying vents littered the jagged cliffs and ancient hills that made up this portion of the Glowing Planet. Merely moving from one side of the camp to the other posed a significant challenge due to the substantial amount of deep cracks in the ground.
One careless pilot even fell into the gap with his mech. Its legs had been flattened to pieces while the pilot sustained significant impact injuries. Everyone learned their lesson from that point and made sure to cross the gaps from the ramps placed on top of them. It all seemed tentative and fragile to Ves.
"Where's Lucky?"
He hadn't been paying too much attention to Lucky lately. His mood turned grumpy ever since Ves took him away from the riches laying on the ground at their old location.
This time, Ves installed a powerful tracking device around Lucky's collar, so his comm picked up the signal from further away. Ves donned his hazard suit and left the protected confines of the workshop. He followed the directional markings until he came across his gem cat who had just finished gorging on a lump of valuable exotics.
"There you are. Let me take a look at you."
Ves carefully handled his cat and took a closer look at Lucky's exterior. Over the past couple of days, his pet had undergone a metamorphosis of sorts. While he still remained level two, his overall quality had gone up quite a bit.
Physically, that came into being by shifting his energy lines from blue to green, which matched the shade of the planet's growth. Once Lucky's glow had reached its saturation point, his exterior plating started to change as well.
"Your plates are paler than last time. Are you turning into a silvery substance?"
"Meow."
Lucky behaved awfully nonchalant despite undergoing fundamental changes in his physical makeup. It worried Ves a bit that he didn't know whether the changes benefited his pet or not. He currently leaned on the changes being beneficial because he didn't think that Lucky's remarkable design could be brought down so easily.
"So have you been turning your senses to sniff out the core of the Glowing Planet?"
"Meow." Lucky bobbed his head side-to-side in a very clear no.
"Damn. Do I actually have to find a way to dig past the crust of this planet in order to get my hands on a so-called core?"
The System's mission put a sense of urgency behind his stay with the Whalers. He doubted the gang possessed the hardware to dig that deep into this dangerous planet. He'd have to find a way to attach himself with a more capable force, such as the Blood Claws or the Mech Crops.
"The Whalers won't last long enough to maintain their own camp anyway."
He already planned his exit from their midst. The sheer amount of incompetence that hobbled the Whalers would bite them back in the end.
None of this mattered for the moment. It would take some time for the Vesians or the pirates or any scum to land their forces on the ground. Even then, they might not clash immediately, as every force would be scrambling to take up every available spot of land before they thought about contesting some of the more promising occupied regions.
Lucky suddenly turned stiff. He hissed at something behind Ves.
"What's wrong, buddy?"
Ves turned around to see a sight he had never thought to see again in his life.
"Mother?"
His mother stood before him in the flesh. Even as his rational mind yelled at him that he'd been caught in a hallucination induced by the Glowing Planet, his emotions went out of control, scrambling him into paralysis.
"It can't be you. You're dead!"
"Vesssssss." The apparition of his mother hissed. "You are so handsome now. You're all grown up."
The image of his mother flickered closer until she stood right in front of him. The back of her hand brushed his cheek. Despite wearing a hazard suit, the translucent hand went right past the helmet as if it didn't exist and began to caress his skin.
Ves felt his skin deform as the chilly hand physically pushed and stroked his smooth skin. Tears fell out of his eyes. Whether his eyes grew moist due to his abject fear or his yearnings for his mother, he didn't know. He couldn't even move. Somehow, his body ceased to follow his instructions.
"Mother. You're dead. Your grave, I visited it last year!"
"Is that what you believe?" His mother shook his head. "Life and death are interconnected, Ves. One cannot truly die."
Her reality-warping hand trailed down his neck and followed his arm until it reached his comm. "I see you've been making use of your father's present."
"You know about the System?!"
His mother smiled at him in amusement. "You are always so impatient, my little Vessie. Have you been drinking enough tea lately?"
"Mother, answer the question please!"
The faded form of his mother suddenly disappeared from his sight. One moment, she hovered in front of him, smothering him with motherly affection like she always did when he was young. In the next, her image vanished out of existence, as if the Glowing Planet deliberately roused his hopes only to crush them underneath the heel of its booth.
"MOTHER!"
Chapter 290
They say that dead men tell no tales. His mother didn't reveal anything either about the System.
Ves had become awfully spooked after meeting his long-dead mother. He clearly felt as if his mother was real, but that couldn't be. She was dead.
"I'm hallucinating, just like those other folks. She's not real. She's a figment of my imagination."
He struggled inwardly to convince himself that he imagined the whole sequence. Only one thing forced him to admit that it might not have stayed inside his head.
He turned to Lucky. "You saw that, didn't you?"
His cat kept up a wary posture, as if he encountered an extremely dangerous predator. Ves had the sense that Lucky had definitely shared his experiences.
With that confirmation, Ves didn't know what to think. Did the Glowing Planet toy with him? Did the planet possess some highly energetic exotic that was capable of manipulating spacetime? Why did he encounter mother, and not someone else?
Too many questions swirled in his mind, but without a solid understanding of what happened to him, it was useless to speculate any further.
"Another incident to add to the growing pile of mysteries surrounding my life."
With a harried mind, Ves returned to the fortified camp with Lucky in his arms. His cat had been so spooked by the encounter that he didn't resist being picked up. Apparently, he lost his voracious appetite, which was a first.
Once he returned to the confines of Walter's Whalers, Ves declined to report the incident and tried to go back to work. He went to the workshop that held the partially disassembled Urman mech and removed his bulky hazard suit before approaching the Urman.
The mech looked huge and strong as always. Ves admired its robust construction and how much care its designer had put into strengthening the arms.
Walter approached from the side. "The Urman's been with me for more than a decade. While I don't know how the fiddly stuff works, I can tell you that there's hardly anyone who's more familiar with the Urman than me. I don't think there's more than forty of these mechs in circulation, and I'm sure that most of them have been scrapped by now."
"Is it because it's difficult to fight with a brawler mech?"
"Oh, more than you can imagine. The only way the Urman can withstand a sword or a spear is to block them with its heavy gauntlets. While they're powerful and open up a lot of options, they also slow down your arms and they're really expensive to maintain."
Ves already figured out the Urman came with such a trade-off. Those disposable gauntlets weighed as much if not more than a typical mech-sized sword and shield. This gave them an amazing amount of thickness and endurance, but it didn't help the brawler mech's speed.
Any mech pilot crazy enough to pilot a brawler had to be a natural wrestler and fistfighter to be qualified to pilot such a strange type of mech.
He started to listen to Walter describe in his own words how he saw the Brawler. Despite his many faults, Walter had been gifted with a talent for brawling, and he honed his street fighting skills by taking formal classes back when he joined a gang in Bentheim.
The gang leader didn't ruminate on his stay in Bentheim and turned his story back to his mech.
"The Urman is a great mech, but it's a difficult one to pilot as well. The mech designer who sold me the Urman went bankrupt soon after. He must be regretting that he designed a brawler mech in the first place."
"Why did you go for a brawler instead of a more conventional mech like a knight or a swordsman mech?"
"Oh, I've tried those mechs. I've tried to find the right mech plenty of times. They didn't click with me. It's like I'm being stuffed into the wrong body. Those knights are useless without their armaments and the swordsman mechs rely too much on their swords. All the time I've piloted those standard mechs, I always felt less of a man."
Walter's discussion about his mech was fascinating to Ves. Hearing about his experiences successfully cleansed his fright and allowed him to forget his brief but frightening encounter with the apparition of his mother.
"Alright, I think I've gained an understanding of your Urman." Ves nodded in satisfaction. "Let's move on to what you want to change. Since I'm overhauling your mech, I might as well be thorough."
"I don't know." Walter appeared serious as he considered the matter carefully. "I'm already used to how it's built right now. There's hardly anything that stands out that I want done. It's not the best mech, but it's mine."
"Mechs like these won't be able to maintain a constant level of performance, especially if they are older than a decade. There must be something that you're annoyed with. It could be something that worked fine at the start, but became increasingly more annoying over the years."
"Now that I think about it, I've always been wondering about the left elbow joint. It's just a little bit less supple than the other one. My mech technicians say it's fine, but maybe it's starting to break down."
After jogging his memory, Walter listed over two-dozen pet peeves. Some of them sounded trivial to the point where Ves doubted a mechanical problem had been the case, but Ves noted them all down anyway. Once he got his list, he gathered a couple of mech technicians and got to work.
Dismantling the Urman, designing new modifications and implementing them on an existing frame proved to be a stimulating job to Ves. Over the course of several days, he became immersed in trying to understand this rare and exotic brawler mech.
With each puzzle solved, Ves gained another insight into the operation of heavier mechs. Although the Urman hadn't reached that particular threshold, it operated along the same principles as an orthodox heavy mech while retaining a couple of key features of a medium mech.
As Ves went about his days, the universe around him moved on.
The Whalers dug out a decent underground refuge and finished putting up some rudimentary defenses.
The Blood Claws used their extensive manpower and sophisticated equipment to establish a fort.
Meanwhile, the Mech Corps that neighbored them both formed an even larger defensive position that could withstand a couple of Vesian regiments at once, for a time.
It could be seen that the Whalers presented nothing but a feeble obstacle to any but the most pathetic raids. In the face of a determined invasion, their only role should be to buy enough time for the Blood Claws and the 4th division to gather up their ground-side mechs.
Such an attack could come at any time, especially since the battle in space turned chaotic.
After the initial skirmishers, the Brighters and the Vesians lost their appetite for more engagements. Their numbers closely matched each other, which meant that a battle would be too close to call. They didn't have any reason to retreat but neither did they have a compelling urge to attack.
The goal of the Bentheim fleet remained protecting their ground-side assets. They placed a significant number of ships in geosynchronous orbit over their red zone.
The Vesians responded by claiming the red zone directly opposite on the other side of the Glowing Planet. They placed some ships in geosynchronous orbit as well and started landing lots of landbound assets.
When Ves heard about what happened, he wasn't too surprised by their actions. "The planet is still big enough to fit the Vesians. What's more important is what will happen when the other guests arrive."
By this time, the massive pirate armada led by the mysterious Dragons of the Void almost made its way to the Glowing Planet. The frontier pirate group's unexpected capabilities had allowed them to get close without being affected by the Glowing Planet's incidental hazards.
Ghanso sat quietly in his mech. The mech technicians already fixed up his Vhedra-S in the past few days. Now, he sat on standby while he waited for the Vesians or the pirates to make a move.
"What do you think the pirates are up to?" Old man Alex chattered over the comm. "If they arrive just like this, won't they be provoking both us and the Vesians?
"Beats me." Ghanso shrugged. "I heard that they're not even using dimensional smoothers to suppress the gravitic anomalies around them. It's clear the Dragons made a lot of preparations. I can't help but think they're up to something."
"I've got that feeling as well."
The pirates mainly possessed converted carriers. None of them matched the capabilities of the combat carriers of the Mech Corps and the Mech Legion. They also didn't bring anything that could match the giant fleet carriers either.
What the incoming fleet lacked in quality, they made up for it in quantity. The main job of a carrier was to convey their mechs from one destination to the next. In that, the converted carriers did their job.
Even if the military forces of both states had the edge in mechs and training, they still felt apprehensive about facing so many mechs. The amount of resources the Dragons expended to maintain such a gathering of ships must be through the roof.
Besides the pirates, the mercenaries also posed a threat. The mercenary lords who refused to work for the Bright Republic must have thought they could get a better deal if they joined the side of the ultimate winners of the battle over control of the Glowing Planet.
Lieutenant Fairfax interrupted their musings. "Captain Rynsel has just received word of caution from command. They think the pirate fleet will be trying to bypass our forces' land as much mechs as possible before we chase them off."
"Can we stop them?" Ghanso asked.
"Not really. Even with the help of the Vesians, we won't be able to stop so many pirate carriers from descending onto the surface and unloading their mechs. They've got too many ships."
Everyone's faces turned grim. They waited for a couple of hours until the pirate swarm almost reached the planet.
"Alright men, this is it! Launch and gather around me!"
The mechs assigned to Captain Rynsel emerged from the fleet carrier in pairs. They formed up around her in a double chevron formation before flying outwards to their assigned coordinates. Ghanso noticed that these coordinates brought him closer to the Glowing Planet.
"This is our sector. Our orders are to hover in orbit and wait for the pirate fleet to arrive and disperse. Any pirate mech or ship that passes through our sector should be destroyed before they make landfall."
"What should we prioritize, ma'm?"
"Take out the descending carriers if you can. Any mech that passes through us will be spaceborn mechs that won't be of much use on the ground. It's better to focus on the carriers first. Even the smallest ones will be carrying five to seven mechs."
Ghanso waited for the arrival of the pirate fleet while the Mech Corps arrayed its forces into a net that covered close to a third of the globe.
"Here they come! They're already splitting up!"
As predicted, the fleet led by the Dragons of the Void avoided a fruitless battle over orbital supremacy. Instead, they decided to focus on the real prize, which was the Glowing Planet and its many resources.
Large numbers of spaceborn mechs emerged from the pirate ships. All of them flew forward in order to lead the charge and spoil the aims of Ghanso and the other defenders as best as possible.
"They're spreading out their mechs! They shouldn't be aiming to take us out. Don't get distracted by their antics. They don't have the guts to fly close to us!"
Ghanso calmed his mind and sought to establish a deeper connection with his mech. Last time, he faced an enormous torpedo wave followed by a single pass of the Grand Chasers. Facing a bunch of pirates shouldn't be as nerve-wracking, although their sheer numbers made him grow a little pale.
"They're just rabble. They're nothing special. I can take them out by the dozens."
The pirate fleet began their orbital insertion.
Chapter 291
The battle against the pirates erupted in a mass of chaos and individual action. The Volari Starhawks and the other regiments had spread themselves thin, and that had forced the pirates to disperse as well.
The Dragons of the Void could have chosen to concentrate their ships and mech, but that would have allowed the Mech Corps to close the envelope and trap them in each direction. They decided it was better to remain elusive at all fronts.
All of this meant that Ghanso and his squad members only faced a couple of mechs at a time. Ghanso methodically shot at the approaching mechs with his laser rifle set to medium. He didn't require any more power to take out half-rusted mechs that looked second-hand at best.
"Incoming ship! She looks like she's carrying at least eight landbound mechs! Forget about the small fry and take her out!"
Ghanso switched his target in a heartbeat and opened fire on the incoming carrier. His laser shots merely scratched the coating of the immense ship, so he cranked up his laser rifle until it released beams as thick as the arm of his mech.
His super-heated laser beam did almost nothing to the frontal cone of the carrier. "My lasers aren't doing anything to the ship!"
"My rifle bullets are bouncing off the cone!"
Captain Rynsel made a risky decision. "Cease fire on the carrier and resume targeting her escort mechs. Once the carrier passes us by, try to hit if from behind."
They exchanged fire with the escorts which drew closer, but Ghanso had a hard time landing any hits due to their speeds. He lost his previous calm when frustration started to creep in. Why couldn't he hit any mechs?
One of the pirate mechs swiveled his rifle and spat out a volley of explosive shells at his Vhedra-S. Old Man Alex moved his mech in front of Ghanso and shielded him from the blast.
"Get a hold of yourself, Larkinson! You're overheating your rifle!"
He cursed as he noticed the build-up of heat. If he continued firing at this pace, he'd hardly have anything left once the pirate ship passed by their squad. Ghanso stopped his fire entirely in order to allow his rifle to cool as fast as possible.
"This isn't the first time you lost your mind!" Old Man Alex admonished him as he moved away to shield another squad mate. "Whatever crap you're dealing with, it's not as important as the mission! Everyone is counting on you to do your job, so do it!"
Ghanso growled in frustration, but kept his opinion to himself. Alex had been right that he should be focusing on his mission instead of letting his emotions dictate his actions. Overheating his rifle early would only benefit the pirates instead of their own side.
Even as his instincts yelled at him to take down the pirate mechs, Ghanso remained fixated on the incoming carrier. Now that the pirate ship neared their position, he noticed that her dull black coating was a surprisingly thick frontal cone made out of random plates of scavenged mech armor.
"Damn. How many mechs worth of armor plating does this carrier have?"
"More than ten I bet. These plates must be the refuse that had been dislodged from their original mechs."
Despite their damaged state, the plates possessed enough integrity to withstand most of the attack sent in their way. Their thickness prompted Captain Rynsel to give up taking out the carrier from the front. Instead, they all waited until the ship came close.
"Get ready to turn around and shoot at the rear!"
Five, for, three, two, one, "Open fire!"
Not every member of the squad could open fire on the carrier. For some reason, the escort mechs turned berserk and assaulted the closest Starhawk mech they could find. Alex and a couple of other melee mech pilots raced to the rescue while Ghanso focused on the thrusters of the descending carrier.
He took a deep breath and released a penetrating laser beam. Its seconds-long burn hit the rear of the carrier but did practically no damage.
Thrusters had been built to absorb a lot of heat, so the laser beam didn't do much damage. Ghanso shook his head and shifted his aim, though the rapidly widening distance made it hard for him to focus on a single section of the ship. He quickly fired again before the ship flew out of range.
This time his lasers glanced off the side of the carrier. Despite the near miss, his laser happened to strike a less heat-resistant part of the ship. His highly potent laser beam melted through the armor and damaged a couple of compartments, though none of them seemed important.
Nevertheless, the opening made by his lasers prompted his squad mates to focus on that vulnerability. Together, they widened the hole in the carrier and inflicted increasingly severe internal damage.
A final explosive shell landed deep within the ship and destabilized her power reactor. The ship lost control and spun uncontrollably.
"She's dead! Good job!" Captain Rynsel praised.
If the ship lost her power, her inertial dampeners would quickly drain their meager reserves. Once that happened, the occupants of the ship would have no way of protecting themselves against the g-forces induced by the ship's decent and uncontrollable spin. Everybody's body would undergo an experience akin to a blender. Their bodies didn't stand a chance.
"Eyes up! Two more ships are passing through our sector! If they've got a strengthened cone as well, then wait until they pass us!"
Neither ship turned out to be as abnormal as the first one. Ghanso and his squad comfortably blew up one ship, but they didn't spare enough firepower to take out the other one. Even as they shot at the rear of the surviving carrier, her mech escorts plunged into their midst, forcing them to deal with them first while the remaining pirate ship got away.
This pattern repeated over and over over the entire globe. Even the Vesians dropped their vigilance against the Mech Corps in order to prevent the pirates from gaining a foothold on the planet.
Both the Mech Corps and the Mech Legion soon found out they underestimated the resolve of the pirates. Many pirate mechs that accompanied their carriers towards the surface recklessly entered into mortal combat against the defenders that made up the net. They attacked with no regards to their lives and always fought to the death.
Though costly, the distraction worked. Ghanso lost track of how many dinky carriers passed by their squad as they tried to fend off the latest wave of suicidal pirate mechs.
"Since when did pirates fight to the death?!"
"Beats me! Pirates aren't the smartest bunch of people in the first place!"
"My ammo is running low! I'm all out of high explosive shells!"
"My energy reserves are dipping as well!" Ghanso reported. Even at the lowest settings, the rate at which he fired off his beams had led to an inevitable drain on his energy cells.
Sometimes he wished his mech suffered from the overcharge phenomenon, but it appeared the Glowing Planet only affected mechs closer to its surface. Just in case, the mech technicians had overridden the power safeties of each mech, but it hadn't been necessary for now.
Down on the surface of the Glowing Planet, Ves just finished affixing back the last piece of plating on the Urman. "Your mech is back in one piece, Walter."
"Took you long enough." The big man gruffed as he zipped up to his cockpit. "Don't wander off. It's going to get dangerous soon."
As Ves watched the Urman come online and move out of the workshop, he felt a little lost. Due to the pirate incursion, Ves had been forced to curtail his extensive rework of the Urman and rush to put the mech back together.
"I could have learned much more if the pirates didn't choose to drop from above." He sighed with regret.
He picked up Lucky who had been staying alertly by his side as if he expected an imminent attack.
"Do you sense the pirates approaching from above?"
"Meow."
Lucky certainly became more perceptive ever since he gorged himself to the mineral wealth of the Glowing Planet. His exterior had turned into a soft and pliable silvery alloy, but Ves had no doubt that its toughness surpassed the previous bronze-like exterior.
"Well Lucky, let's go up to the roof. I'm not content with holding up in this workshop."
Ves didn't want to cower in the face of the pirates. He walked over to where he stored his hazard suit and put it on in record time before he raced up to a lifter platform that brought him to the upper ramps. There, he found a secured entryway to the roof which Ves easily opened with the access codes he received from the Whalers.
Once he stepped outside, he watched the blinking lights falling down from orbit. The lack of air meant the mechs and ships descended without the pesky build-up of friction and heat. This made it rather difficult for Ves to spot the descending pirates with the naked eye.
He had to establish a connection with the base's sensor net, which had to borrow the telemetry sent out by the Blood Claws and the Mech Corps before they could make out how many pirates fell from the sky.
His helmet visor bloomed with menacing purple icons. The sunless sky over Ves alone contained over fifty falling mech carriers. Occasionally, the space around them flashed as the pirate mechs fought back against the forces of the Mech Corps trying to stop their descent.
"Too many ships are making it through." He deduced.
Only a fifth of the carriers encountered a mishap as the various spaceborn regiments of the Mech Corps feebly tried to catch as many pirates as they could.
Ves didn't blame the Mech Corps for their failure. Unlike them, he knew how much cannon fodder the Dragons of the Void were willing to sacrifice in order to advance their goals.
A spread of seven different pirate vessels happened to aim their trajectory close towards their position. As the collective sensor net refined their readings, they even determined their most probable landing zones.
One medium-sized pirate carrier happened to land a short distance away from this camp. Despite their threat, Ves remained in place. A single carrier shouldn't be able to convey enough mechs to threaten the Whalers.
The anticipation within him grew bigger as the carrier descended into visual range. Amidst the ever-present green glow, the underbelly of the pirate ship reflected back the light as if it was a star.
Alarms rang out throughout the base as the anti-air turrets oriented their barrels towards the incoming carrier. After sounding out a final warning, the turrets thrummed as they shot laser beams after laser beams at the incoming pirate ship.
The carrier happened to be a sturdier specimen from the rest. Her underbelly bore the laser beams without buckling. Each beam only left shallow furrows into the armored hull.
A couple of turrets that fired kinetic projectiles opened fire after that. This time, they left deeper scars, but the sturdy carrier endured the rain of projectiles until it whooshed past their line of sight and landed a fair distance away behind some jagged cliffs and hills.
For a moment, the base fell silent. The turrets returned to standby once their targets left their line of sights. Meanwhile, Walter, Fadah and the other leaders fell into a quick discussion on what to do next.
Ves wasn't privy to their conversation, but he didn't need to make a guess because they already went into action. A couple of squads led by Fadah and some other cadres exited the base and cautiously approached the landing site of the carrier.
He approved of their action. The mechs and pilots inside the carrier must be suffering from the aftereffects of their crash-like landing. Even if the ship had survived the entry onto the Glowing Planet, that didn't mean the carrier had made it out unscatched.
Ves patched into a private feed he surreptitiously added to the Blackbeak's systems. His helmet visor shimmered before it began to transmit the Blackbeak's view. He wanted to get a first-hand view of the Blackbeak's upcoming performance. He especially wanted to determine whether Fadah could cope with all the changes he demanded from Ves.
"Don't screw up, Fadah."
Chapter 292
Walter, Fadah and the rest of the most experienced Whalers approached the landing site with haste.
From the sensor readings and their own observations, they knew that the pirate ship sustained a lot of damage and had been forced to descend in a controlled crash.
Different from an uncontrolled crash, the carrier and her occupants survived the impact. However, that didn't mean they regained their senses immediately.
Walter might not be a genius in administrative matters, but he had a good sense for combat. He wanted to seize the initiative and take out the pirates before they could muster a proper defense.
Due to the haste involved in this decision, Walter had to let the faster mechs go ahead, leaving his Urman to catch up from the rear. Fadah's modified Blackbeak showed its new strength at this moment. The slimmed-down medium mech caught up with the jogging light mechs without issue.
"The landing site is five kilometers away. We should spread out and cover the flanks."
The light mechs split apart without any further acknowledgement. Everyone understood each other due to the camaraderie they forged over a span of decades.
While the light mechs covered the flanks, the mainstay medium mechs took the lead and approached the dormant carrier from her rear. The ship dug a deep furrow into the craggy ground, leading to a messy stop at the foot of an obsidian cliff.
"The carrier is radiating a lot of heat. My sensors are going haywire from all of the junk. We don't know what's inside."
That prompted the mechs to approach the carrier with a little caution. Fadah and the others waited until Walter's Urman emerged from behind. He took one good look at the downed ship before issuing a command.
"What are you afraid of? It's a sitting duck right now! Shoot at it?"
"But boss, don't you want to salvage the ship? That's a medium-sized carrier!"
"Who cares about a half-wrecked ship! A couple of containers worth of junk exotics is a lot more valuable than this carrier. Shoot!"
The Whalers brought a handful of rifleman mechs and a single cannoneer. All of them unleashed their firepower on the static vessel.
The rifles only dealt shallow damage to the hull, but the ballistic cannon tore through the hull armor like a dog chewing through bone.
The alarming damage from the cannon prompted the pirates inside to action. Despite the hard landing, their mech pilots had all been safely ensconced in their landbound mechs. When they blasted open the hatch, they showed very little signs of losing their wits. They poured out of the carrier and fired back at the Whalers.
"They set a trap for us!"
"Calm down! They're out in the open and they don't outnumber us!"
The Whalers had spread out in a half-moon around the crash site. Furthermore, their mechs all took cover behind some sturdy rocks and hills, preventing the pirates from dealing any effective damage.
The pirates obviously realized that and shifted directions. If they charged down the middle, they'd be surrounded on all sides. Thus, they chose to charge towards the extreme left of the formation.
"Cycle clockwise!"
The Whalers dynamically adjusted their formation in return. They spun the moon so that the pirates would be forced to cash against Walter's Urman in a frontal clash.
By then, it was too late for the pirate commander to change his mind. The pirates committed to the charge, shooting at the Urman with their ranged weapons while brandishing their melee weapons to finish the bulky mech up close.
The Urman stoically withstood the impacts, having crossed its arms to let its thick armored gauntlets take the brunt of the blows.
On the pirate side, two swordsman mechs and one knight led the charge. As for the Whalers, they continued to maneuver from the sides in order to envelop the pirates. For this to succeed, Walter had to blunt the charge of the pirates by himself. He grinned inside his cockpit.
"COME!" He roared as he urged his Urman to lumber forward, building up momentum for the double fists it prepared to unleash.
The knight in front sheathed its sword and held its shield with both arms. The Urman looked like it could pack a mean punch, and the pirate mech didn't think it could withstand a lunging strike with a single arm.
"TOO FLIMSY!"
The Urman outright shattered the shield, pushing the knight back and taking it out of the action for a few seconds. The swordsman mechs that came right after slashed forth with their swords, only to be caught by the Urman's heavy gauntlets.
One pirate had been smart enough to let go of his sword, but the other pilot stubbornly clung to his only weapon. Walter grinned and pulled the sword forward, which forced the mech that held an iron grip on the handle to stumble closer.
That was a fatal mistake.
The Urman let go of the words and wrapped the vulnerable knight in a clapping bear hug that squished its outer frame. Its heavy gauntlets dug into the thinner rear armor until they pried open the armor plating. After ripping open the rear armor, the Urman dug into it with its clumsy fingers and demolished the critical internals underneath.
The mech lost power, prompting the Urman to drop its first kill.
"Who's next?!"
Both the knight and the swordsman mech recovered somewhat, although they hadn't made it in time to rescue their unfortunate fellow pirate. Both of them flanked the Urman and started to prod at the brawler mech with their swords.
While Walter occupied the two mechs, the rest of the Whalers dealt with the riff raff. Fadah's Blackbeak shone at this moment by weaving through the disarrayed pirates like a shuttle racer through an asteroid field.
Each time Fadah passed by a mech, he opportunistically thrust or slashed the Blackbeak's sword. Any retaliation sent in the modified knight's way would either be dodged or absorbed by its shield.
Fadah started to grow fond of this extra defensive option. "This shield is a cheat!"
Despite the shabby quality of most Whaler mechs, they had the edge over the pirates. The pirate mech pilots suffered from various amounts of disorientation while their mechs suffered minor impact damage from the rough landing.
The pirates could have recovered their full strength after an hour of acclimatization, but the Whalers spoiled their plans.
In addition, the Whalers spent days getting used to the Glowing Planet's unusual environment. The lack of atmosphere, the reduced 0.7 gravity and the strange everpresent green glow all took time to get accustomed to. Some Whalers even used the abnormal conditions to their advantage.
Fadah laughed as he piloted his Blackbeak like a nimble mouse among a clumsy herd of elephants. Even though his sword strikes didn't have much power behind him, his constant harassment successfully threw the pirates off balance.
His Blackbeak approached an enemy rifleman mech from behind and chopped at its arm, forcing the pirate mech to cease its attack on a vulnerable Whaler. Fadah didn't stick around to make a follow-up attack but instead preserved his momentum and veered towards another knight mech that locked its armament against a battle-axe wielding mech.
"Lou! Keep the git in place!"
"Got it, Fadah!"
Lou forced the pirate knight in a bitter struggle, pushing it back and knocking it slightly off-balance. Fadah took advantage of the opening by lunging forward and putting his mech's full weight behind its sword.
The tip buried straight through the back of the knight's substantial armor and happened to dig deep enough to slice through the cockpit, instantly killing the pilot within.
"Great job, Lou!"
"Thanks. Let's mop up the rest!"
The Whalers decisively tipped the balance in their favor over the next couple of minutes. With Walter occupying their two best fighters, the pirates found themselves hard-pressed to fend off the Whalers attacking from each direction.
At some point in time, the pirate rifleman mechs shifted focus. Instead of shooting at the closest threat, they turned around and focused all of their firepower on one of the Whalers piloting a light mech.
A barrage of high-powered lasers and explosive shells struck the terrain around the light mech. The pirate mechs quickly corrected their aim and started landing solid hits on the Whaler mech.
"Hoyler! Get out of there!"
"I'm trying but they're boxing me in! URGH!"
An explosive shell ripped its leg, causing the light mech to falter in its steps. Hoyler's mech spun around and exposed its back towards the enemy for a single instant. The next volley of shells and lasers struck aside the flimsy rear armor and reached the compact energy cells buried underneath.
"NO!"
Hoyler's small and nimble light mech exploded before its pilot even had a chance to eject. The combined explosive and electric discharge wrenched every mech from their feet, flinging them away as the terrain buckled from underneath.
They landed on their backs or sides in a series of violent crunches. If the Glowing Planet possessed air, then the resulting pressure wave from the discharge would have squashed them straight into the cliffs.
Of all the mechs, only two recovered quickly. Walter's Urman only suffered marginally due to its immense bulk and stable footing. Fadah anticipated the blast in time and curled his Blackbeak just before their footing underwent an upheaval.
"Hoyler! He's gone!"
"Finish off these scum!"
With the help of the Urman and the Blackbeak, the Whalers ruthlessly finished off the immobilized pirate mechs. Their pilots hadn't been aware of the overcharge phenomenon so they hadn't been on-guard against a violent explosion like that. They never recovered before the Whalers stomped their cockpits with the foot of their mechs.
After they finished the battle, they stood in silence to honor their fallen brother. Hoyler had been one of Walter's early recruits, and while he never amounted to anything in the Whalers, his steady presence had been a pillar to the entire gang.
"Finish off the ship. Don't leave any survivors."
The Whalers didn't think about recovering the ship or any of its cargo. Their ranged mechs simply blasted it from a distance while the crew of the vessel ran around like headless chickens.
The gang didn't even bother chasing any of the pirates running away on foot. Their vacuum-sealed suits only lasted them a couple of days at most. Without any other supplies, they'd starve in the harsh and desolate landscape of the Glowing Planet.
Once the fallen carrier turned into a pile of broken chunks, the Whalers carefully dug up any pieces of Hoyler's mech they could find and bring them back to camp.
Ves halted the feed that enabled him to spy on the Blackbeak at work and sighed. "I told them they'd face setbacks."
The Whalers overestimated their abilities and committed to the fight with more aggression than they needed. Still, the intense battle gave Ves a first-hand glimpse of how the new Blackbeak fared.
Fadah delivered a marvelous performance. All of the modifications that added to its mobility had been worth it as Fadah flexed and moved his mech in a way that resembled a dance. The pirates had never been able to catch the Blackbeak once.
Still, Ves placed a caveat on his observations. "Fadah can only get away with it on the Glowing Planet."
The lack of atmosphere took away the need to fight against air friction. The lighter gravity allowed the Blackbeak to pull off moves that medium mechs wouldn't be able to in ordinary circumstances.
Ves had to admit that for all of his smarts, he overlooked the environment as a decisive factor that could change the performance of a mech.
He wouldn't be blamed for making such elementary mistakes. Most battles on land occurred on terraformed planets that had been cherry-picked by colonists because their gravity closely matched the Terran standard.
Humanity's true origin came from Old Earth. Their species thrived best if they propagated onto planets with environments that closely matched their ancestral home.
The battle that Ves witnessed earlier taught him that his mechs may often be deployed under strange conditions. During the design process, he modeled his Blackbeak's performance under a variety of abnormal environments, but he always treated those simulations as a chore.
Now, he realized that those simulations foretold some very important outcomes for his mech. "The perfect mech that performs well in every possible environment doesn't exist. A bad design under standard conditions might be able to redeem itself in other conditions."
Ves quietly digested this lesson as Walter and his men returned to their fortified camp.
Chapter 293
The loss of Hoyler and the way he died left the Whalers in a somber mood. Ves hoped their rude awakening would push them to work more meticulously, but the Whalers showed a remarkable ability to move on from tragedy.
They held a festive party over the night where over half of the Whalers drank themselves into a stupor. By the time they woke up the next morning, the pain at losing Hoyler had become a distant pang.
Everything went back to normal, although the Whalers heightened their alertness. No more pirate vessels fell from the sky in their vicinity.
In fact, every descending carrier aimed to land in the middle of unclaimed terrain. The ships that crashed near the Vesians or the Brighters had been forced to veer from their original trajectories due to the damage they suffered from the battle up in space.
This left everyone with a bit of reprieve. Until the pirates recovered from their landings and gathered together, they posed no threat to the Whalers.
Fadah and Ves gathered at the stables where the Blackbeak rested. The mech didn't suffer anything more than a couple of scratches at the hands of the pirates. It actually sustained more damage from its fall when Hoyler's mech blew up, and that had to be fixed.
"I can fix the Blackbeak up in half a day." He said, eying his own work with a new sense of appreciation. The lack of armor didn't seem so bad now that he knew that Fadah would be able to make the most of it on the Glowing Planet. "Is there anything else you'd like to be modified while I'm at it?"
"No." Fadah lethargically shook his head. "The Blackbeak is still in pretty good shape. Just do the basics and move on to fixing the other mechs."
"Alright."
Ves quietly went to work, though inwardly he sighed again. Fadah expected too much from him. He wasn't a miracle worker. The Whalers piloted cheap and badly maintained mechs. Their workshops lacked a lot of advanced tools and the mech technicians resembled bums more than professionals.
Still, he kept his complaints to himself and tried to make the best of it, knowing that he might need to get accustomed to working under trying circumstances.
With his penchant for diving into trouble, he might be put into situations where he'd be forced to work on a mech without any tools or supplies.
A couple of days went by as Ves modified mech after mech. Nothing much happened on the ground.
The pirates that landed on the surface gathered up and formed a series of underground bases. Occasionally, the Mech Corps and the Mech Legion up in orbit bombarded their positions, but the sheer amount of distance and some unknown influences from the Glowing Planet caused most shots to miss their mark.
It was a waste of time and energy to bombard the pirates unless they gathered at least an entire regiment.
However, whenever they did so, the pirate fleet that remained in the vicinity of the Glowing Planet would move in and threaten the mechs. This led to complicated orbital maneuvering where the three sides tried to box each other in to no avail. All of the fruitless course adjustments frustrated the pilots that had to remain on standby like Ghanso.
"When will this ever end?!" He moaned inside his Vhedra-S.
"It'll end when the pirates slip up." Old Man Alex replied.
"Like that'll ever happen. Those Dragons of the Void bastards are cunning as hell, and slippery to the booth. They keep bluffing us over and over and we keep falling for their tricks."
"That's spaceborn combat for you. It's not as if we're on land where we'll halt our movement once we shut off our engines. Everything is in motion. In order to thrive in space, you have to understand the mechanics behind all this stuff."
"Do you?"
"Nah. Are you crazy? I'd rather improve my piloting skill than to go back to school. Leave the thinking to Lieutenant Fairfax and Captain Rynsel. I heard they took some extra courses in order to qualify for promotion."
That opened up some doors in Ghanso's mind. He understood the need to become more familiar with how movement worked in space. The basic courses taught in the academies only scratched the surface of what had happened here.
"Maybe I'll register for those classes as well."
"Good luck, then. You're young enough to keep learning, so make the most out of it while you still can. Don't ever stop improving!"
Ghanso detected some regret in Old Man Alex's voice. Perhaps the man missed a lot of opportunities in his youth. "Thanks for the guidance."
"It's nothing. You Larkinsons are able to figure things out sooner or later. If not me, then some other relative of yours would have clued you in."
That did not detract from the value of Alex's advice. Ghanso opened up his comm and browsed for the next available openings for the classes he had in mind.
While a stalemate continued to persist in space, back on the ground, Ves took a break after modifying the tenth mech that passed in his hands.
"Alright, this is enough. Go take the rest of the day off!"
The exhausted mech technicians whooped as they dropped their tools on the deck. Ves winced at the careless treatment of their gear. If only the Whalers had a proper chief to knock some sense into their skulls.
Lately, Ves did all of his work underground. The Whalers finished tunneling a coupe of secure mech-sized halls, and finishing moving most of their surface assets to these empty spaces. Ves felt better for having layers of rocks stand between his head and a laser beam from orbit.
"Melkor!"
He met Melkor by the entrance of the workshop. Lately, his cousin had been volunteering to go on patrols. Even though Lucky had run off to dig up highly valuable exotics, Ves hardly felt any threat from the Whalers. Thus, he allowed Melkor to volunteer for other duties.
"We need to discuss something." Melkor as he guided Ves by the arm. "It concerns the battle in space. There's a chance we might get cut off from escape, at least for the next couple of weeks."
Ves turned sour as he contemplated the possibility. Nothing good ever happened when a groundside force got cuff off from support up in orbit. He already went through a mutiny in his previous adventure to Groening IV.
'What's the Mech Corps up to?"
"My guess is that they've decided the 4th division is too exposed and outnumbered to make a play for orbital supremacy. It might even be impossible to maintain a geosynchronous orbit over their men on the ground. They're pulling back to a higher orbit over the planet where they have much more room to maneuver. The Blood Claws and the Whalers and the other outfits who signed on with them will follow suit."
So we're letting the pirates hover over the planet with impunity?
"Not exactly. They've been forced into an even higher orbit. They're so far away in the skies that they won't be able to threaten our base. The men I've talked with heard from other men who speculated that the pirates are waiting for reinforcements. Either they're expecting a lot of help, or they're holding secret talks with the mercenaries who haven't signed a contract yet."
Ves understood Melkor's concern. They couldn't rule out the possibility that the mercenary lords would throw their lot with the pirates, who possessed the most ships out of the three principal forces battling for control.
They started to discuss contingencies. Anything could happen in the next few weeks, and the Whalers might end up facing a threat that none of them could beat.
"I'll divert some supplies from the Whalers. They don't even guard them. All they're focused on is the growing pile of exotics that they've dug out of the soil."
Melkor nodded. "Okay. I will volunteer to go on patrol outside the walls. I'll be mapping our escape routes and note any dangers along the way."
They both prayed that they never had to enact their contingencies, but the balance of power kept shifting out of the favor of the Bright Republic. The mercenary lords who decided to stay neutral did so because they lacked faith in the Republic's strength.
Over time, the Mech Corps would continue to diminish in power. Melkor passed on to Ves that the Mech Corps refused to send more divisions to the Glowing Planet. They couldn't afford to strip their defenses in favor of chasing after riches onto an unknown alien planet.
"What about the Vesians?"
"I have no clue." Melkor shrugged. "The Mech Legion doesn't appear to be expecting any reinforcements either. I think they're too scared to commit so many forces across the border. It's easier for us to ambush them if they have to enter our territory first."
Ves nodded in understanding and walked away. Now that he had some time to himself, Ves intended to return to the barracks and sleep. He exited the workshop hall and traversed the hollowed-out corridors towards his destination.
The grim underground tunnels cast his surroundings in a depressing light. He preferred the creepy green glow over the corridor's harsh white ceiling lights.
The only upside to working underground was that the Whalers sealed the entrances shut. Everyone inside ditched their bulky hazard suits, including Ves. Even if the base suffered an attack which caused the air to leak out, he still had his anti-grav clothes to provide him with some oxygen.
Ves passed by an empty room that hadn't been put to use yet. As he turned his head for a peek, he suddenly felt a slim but incredibly strong palm push him inside.
He tumbled into the room into a heap. That palm carried a lot of strength, much more than his enhanced body could handle!
"Who's there!?" He yelled and whipped up his back pistol towards the entrance, only to meet a familiar sight. "No! You can't be here! You're not real!"
A chill ran through his body as he met his mother's apparition again. After his first encounter with his mother, he tried to convince himself that she hadn't actually risen from the dead.
"Vessssss..." His mother dragged on as her body hovered closer to her son.
Each time his mother came close, Ves took a step back. The chill in his body grew more frigid and his mind grew sluggish. The ghost of his mother called out to him in a way that turned him into a helpless young toddler that yearned for his mother's embrace.
"You're... not... real..." Ves hissed from between his gritted teeth as he fought back against his uncooperative mind and body. "This... is... all... in... my... mind..."
"My Vessie boy. The heart doesn't lie. Don't you recognize me?" His mother asked as she neared his son. She grew more substantial the closer she got to Ves. "Dreams and reality are interconnected. What you see in front of you doesn't need to exist in order to exist."
"Stop acting like my mother! You are nothing like her!" He uttered as his back bumped against the wall of the room. He slid his body sideways until he trapped himself in a corner.
His mother closed in with a disappointed expression. "Ves... I never meant for you to be involved with mechs. Your father always insisted that mechs is in your blood, but it's not. You shouldn't have become a mech designer and you shouldn't have come here in the first place."
"Why...?"
"Because I had someone change your genes." She revealed as she stopped in front of Ves. Her finger reached out and trailed his cheek again. Her ghostly finger felt very real to Ves. "You used to be a Larkinson. When I thought about my baby boy risking his life on a foreign planet, I couldn't bear the thought of losing you. I went behind your father's back and visited a clinic in Bentheim to take away your genetic aptitude."
"What? Mother, that's nonsense!"
"It's true. I took away your affinity for mechs."
"You're lying!" He screamed, though his voice lacked his usual strength. "You loved me. You always promised me you'd support me if I became a pilot..."
Even though he already reconciled himself with his lot in life, his mother had brutally ripped open his mental wounds. The pain of disappointment and the despair of knowing that he could never be a true Larkinson had always lurked in his mind.
His mother didn't seem to care.
"Ves. You should have stayed at Cloudy Curtain. You should have been safe there." Her face turned ugly. "But your father ruined it all!"
Chapter 294
In the Age of Mechs, the greatest honor a young child could ever receive was to learn he had the potential to become a mech pilot. Society elevated such potentates and granted them many privileges in order to facilitate their ability to pilot a mech.
Yet not every parent wished for their child to become a mech pilot. Considering the immense casualties the Republic suffered after each war against the Kingdom, a growing underground movement formed between mothers who wished their children would never have to face another mech on the battlefield.
Wouldn't it be better if their child remained home and took up a mundane job instead of throwing away his life for an empty cause? As new lives bloomed within their bellies, these mothers would do everything to see their offspring live a long and fulfilling life.
Thus, they formed an underground movement. With the complicity of illegal genetic clinics, they secretly broke the chain of genes through modified gene treatments that had ordinarily been used to immunize their unborn children against genetic defects.
This could only be done in the first months of their pregnancies. Gene modification became increasingly more difficult as their children grew. Only extremely extravagant means like gene boosts could change a person's entire genetic makeup.
"Mother... you're lying..." Ves softly retorted, even though her revelation sounded true in his heart. "Why did you break my genes? And what did father do?"
"Isn't it obvious?" His mother shook her head. "That gift of yours is Ryncol's solution to your problem. He knew what I had done, and even if he never confronted me about it, he found his own way to defy me!"
Her body became more substantial the longer she lingered close to Ves. He could even feel the energies quietly circulating inside his body being siphoned away by her somehow. Each mote of energy that entered her body seemed to strengthen her aura, suppressing Ves to the point where he could barely lean against the corner of the room.
"What are you, mother? How did you turn into this ghost?"
She smiled at him and patted his head like he was a child. His mother didn't answer his question, but stared at him with a mixture of loathing and love.
Ves felt deeply uncomfortable at seeing his mother's face so warped in this way. It was as if this ghost wanted to violate his most cherished and innocent memories of his mother.
The standoff continued until the energy cycle inside his body started to stutter. More than half of his vigorous energy had been handed over to the ghost who wore the visage of his mother. Ves didn't believe his mother came back from the dead. No parent would ever treat his child this way. With a wordless grunt, Ves summoned up the vestiges of his strength and pushed himself from the wall.
His body flew right through his mother's translucent body. Her dress hardly shifted as Ves encountered nothing but air. He sprawled to the floor yet again. This time, it took many seconds for him to turn around.
His mother had disappeared. She was gone like the wind.
Ves dried the tears in his eyes and began to recover more of his strength. His lethargic energy cycle continued its figure-eight rotation, but for the first time in months, Ves didn't feel as if he was one step away from being blown up by Dr. Jutland's gift.
Should he be thankful for his mother for delaying the bomb that ticked inside his body?
"That's not my mother." He repeated as he deeply tried to convince himself that he faced some sort of shapeshifting ghost. "My mother would never try to hurt me."
Somehow, his excuses rang hollow. Deep within his heart, some primal vestige of his love for his mother had judged the ghost to be who she said she was. No matter how much logic Ves threw at his heart, it never swayed from its judgment.
Eventually, Ves did what he had always done when he faced an intractable problem. He shoved it to the back of his mind and tried to pretend the incident never happened.
Ves wearily left the empty room and walked back to the barracks where he holed up in his private bunk and slept.
He had no trouble falling asleep.
The next morning, Ves wearily woke up and returned to his work. Just over a hundred mechs awaited his ministrations. No one wanted to repeat Hoyler's experience. With their mechs stuffed with overcharged energy cells, each pilot risked instant death whenever they deployed.
"Please, Mr. Larkinson! Please help me!" A pilot begged Ves. He even bent his knees in supplication to the almighty mech designer. "I don't care if you slow down my mech. Just make it safer for me to pilot!"
Sighing, Ves agreed to fulfill the pilot's request. He learned the hard way that they didn't take his realistic assessment very well. The Whalers expected Ves to reduce the risk by as much as fifty percent.
In actuality, the most he could do was to pull off some tricks to reduce the likelihood of setting off the energy cells by ten percent at most. He couldn't alter the fundamental makeup of a mech, especially not with the means the Whalers had at their disposal.
"There are limits to how much armor I can stuff to the rear of these mechs."
The Whalers used a substantial amount of light mechs and frontline mechs. Both of them had very little tolerance for added weight. Their designs already reached their limits in terms of weight allocation, so Ves always had to remove something else in order to improve the protection around the energy cells.
All of it was barely worth the effort, yet Ves had to play the charlatan in order to put a stop to the growing panic among the Whalers. Many mech pilots had grown increasingly paranoid about their own mechs. Only after Ves adjusted their machines did they calm down from their fright.
Fortunately, the pirates hadn't made a move against the Whalers during this grace period. The battle in space continued to be tepid while the pirates on the ground only formed sporadic raids.
The Mech Corps didn't like it when a group of pirates gathered together within their sphere of influence. They proactively sent out hunting parties to eliminate any small to medium-sized gathering of pirate mechs within the vicinity.
Ves got word that the Mech Corps detected a large-scale gathering of pirates, and tasked the Blood Claws to eliminate the group before they became fully entrenched.
In turn, the Blood Claws called upon their own subordinates to assist them in this endeavor. Walter's Whalers had to contribute twenty mechs to the engagement.
Walter decided to send out three different squads, one of which happened to be the fast-reaction squad led by Fadah. This would be the Blackbeak's second serious deployment.
This time, the entire mech force would be leaving the vicinity of the base. Due to the intense amount of interference on the planet, the mechs would be out of communication for days. Ves wouldn't be able to enjoy a live picture of the Blackbeak in action. He could only resort to activating a hidden recording function inside his mech.
"The Blood Claws are deploying over two-hundred mechs." Fadah spoke as he waited for Ves to finish his final touch-ups. "I even heard there's a new star in their midst. They say she's related to you."
That must have been Raella. "I know. She's my cousin. I don't think she needs any help, but please take care of her when you can. Like any Larkinson, she's a good mech pilot, but she's never been on an actual battlefield."
"Hah! Don't worry, Ves. Daddy Fadah will take care of your baby cousin!" The pilot smacked his chest for emphasis. "With this super-fast Blackbeak, there's no way I can lose to any pirate!"
Ves hadn't been allowed to accompany the task force. The Blood Claws wanted to flatten the pirates quickly, and that meant they had to minimize their burdens. A mech designer like Ves wouldn't be too useful at the very front, especially if he couldn't bring any supplies.
"I hope you can keep your word."
After Fadah and nineteen other Whalers entered the mechs and stepped out of base, some of the liveliness had disappeared. No one who remained could tell whether all twenty would return.
Ves thought this was good. Walter's Whalers finally dropped some of their complacency and seriously started to weigh the risks.
During his free time, Ves carefully investigated the ghost sightings among the Whalers. He discreetly tracked down the people who reported the hallucinations and found a couple of patterns.
First, everyone saw a loved one who had died. This could be their parents, their grandparents or some other acquantaintance who moved on from this galaxy.
Second, no one ever experienced multiple hallucinations. Half the people who reported the sightings couldn't even remember the incidents.
Third, none of the people who experienced these hallucinations had something sucked out of their bodies. Only Ves had the fortune to encounter a ghost who harvested from his bountiful life energies.
When he came to these conclusions, he depressingly rubbed his eyes. "Am I some sort of human battery for these ghosts? How many of them are there?"
He faintly suspected that only one ghost haunted this base. The ghost must be proficient in reading the memories of its victims and imitate what he stole from their minds.
It was the only explanation Ves could come up with that allowed him to deny the continued existence of his mother. He simply didn't want to accept that his mother had really talked to him in this manner.
Ves had half-convinced himself that the ghost would pay another visit to him sooner or later. His special physique must be a wonderful tonic for insubstantial life forms that existed more in the imaginary realm than the physical realm.
"How can I hurt a ghost?"
He left out any mundane means like hitting it with a rod or shooting it with a pistol. The ghost had already shown off its ability to ignore anything it didn't wish to touch.
"I can't use anything conventional."
The only solution he could turn to was to use the heaven-defying properties of exotic materials.
Unfortunately, the minerals the Whalers mined up to this point didn't fit the job. Most of the ores the Whalers dug up with their mining equipment consisted of low-tier exotics with simple effects such as lighter mass or a little bit of extra sturdiness. They didn't differ too much from the junk exotics that any idiot could pick off the ground.
"The really valuable stuff should be buried deep underground or somewhere closer to the center of the red zone."
The red zone exhibited a lot of strange effects. Without the dimensional smoothers, the sheer amount of deadly fluctuations would have wiped out the Mech Corps that settled on this resource-rich territory.
"I've got to find a way to get into the red zone."
Not only did Ves want to obtain some materials that could help him fend off his so-called mother, he also wanted to make headway into completing the System's mission. He quietly activated his Privacy Shield and re-read the mission again.
[Mission]
Mission: Obtaining the Core
Difficulty: B-Rank
Prerequisites: Find your way to the Glowing Planet
Description
The rogue planet that has been discovered by the humans hides a special ore that originates from its core. Seek out a hand-sized sample of this ore and offer it to the Mech Designer System.
Failure condition: Fail to acquire a substance from the core of the Glowing Planet within ninety days from the issuance of this mission. Your ability to spend Design Points will be curtailed for two years.
Reward:
Special Upgrade Voucher (Machine), 10 golden lottery tickets
The System didn't reveal anything useful about this ore. It didn't tell him what it looked like and what kind of benefits it offered. Ves could only tell that the System valued it extremely highly, given that it attached a steep penalty for failing this task.
"At least the rewards should be something good."
Ves didn't put much stock into low-tier lottery tickets, but the System never skimped when it came to something good. The golden lottery tickets should be offering something extremely good, though he could also end up with junk if his luck had taken the wrong turn.
What he really aimed for was the so-called Special Upgrade Voucher (Machine). It sounded like he could upgrade the parameters of any machine he owned, and by a significant margin to boot. Depending on the definition of 'machine', Ves could upgrade anything, from Lucky, to his Dortmund printer, to his highly modified comm module.
"If this ore is as valuable as I think, then this voucher should be worth the effort to seek it out."
Chapter 295
Ves faced an important impediment to fulfilling the System's mission. Walter's Whalers would never be able to breach to the core with their low-tech mining equipment.
They simply didn't possess the infrastructure to dig more than a couple of kilometers underground, and neither did they hold the inclination to do so.
Why bother digging so deep when they harvested enough riches at their current depths?
He'd have to resort to other outfits to bring him to the core. Ves doubted the Blood Claws possessed much more ambition than the Whalers. Even if they brought more sophisticated gear, they'd only focus on the immediate fruits instead of the richer treasures buried deep.
"It's got to be the Mech Corps. Only they have the ambition to exploit this planet completely."
The Mech Corps already revealed their ambitions by claiming one of the red zones of the planet. Despite its many dangers, the red zone also offered some of the richest deposits of exotics.
Furthermore, it was likely that the Mech Corps must be holding some suspicions of this wondrous planet. They would definitely attempt to explore the unknown as much as they could before the seventy-day deadline had passed.
"I've got to find a way to slip into the Mech Corps."
That was a very tall order. The 4th Bentheim Division that presided over the base in the red zone didn't allow any entry to outsiders. Ves couldn't find a good excuse to convince the guards to let him roam around sensitive military regions either, let alone join a deep core mining expedition to the center of the Glowing Planet.
"Let's take this one step at a time. Every lofty goal is insurmountable if you stay at the beginning."
His first task would be to find a way for the Mech Corps to allow him to enter the red zone. It would be better if they invited him on their own initiative, which should only happen if he offered something vital that only he could do.
What was the biggest problem facing the Mech Corps on this planet?
"It's got to be the overcharge phenomenon."
As long as the energy cells kept receiving an overcharge, every mech that ran on these type of cells turned into portable bombs.
Ironically, cheap low-tier mechs like the ones procured by the Whalers didn't pose much of a risk. Sure, even a light mech's catastrophic discharge had been capable of throwing nearby mechs off their feet, but that was the extent of the damage.
Heavier and more advanced mechs carried as much as ten times more energy than Hoyler's pitiful light mech. They had to in order to deliver the kind of performance their designers had in mind.
The kind of energy cells used in an advanced mech like the Havalax compressed a lot more energy in a much smaller package. This enabled Dumont to stuff the rear of his Havalax with double or triple the amount of energy cells, each of which carried an extremely potent amount of power.
"Only one of them has to fail."
If one cell blew up, the adjacent cells quickly followed. This would continue to cascade until the entire advance blew up in a titanic discharge that would swallow any other mech in the vicinity.
This was the scariest part. Any mech in range of this violent explosion risked setting off their own energy cells. Again, only a single failure sufficed to set off another sudden blast.
As long as enough mechs had gathered in the same place, this could lead to an increasingly devastating chain reaction that would swallow both the Mech Corps and whoever they fought. Nothing could survive these runaway explosions.
"While the Mech Corps can rely on their fuel cell mechs to do the heavy lifting, it won't be possible to furlough over eighty percent of their mechs."
Mechs that ran on pure energy cells remained the norm in the Mech Corps. The convenience of working with a single, universal resource that could be replenished in a million different ways outweighed the higher amount of energy density that processed fuel provided.
If an energy-driven mech somehow got stranded, its pilot could whip out the energy solar chargers and let the local sun replenish the spent cells. While it would take years to charge up a single cell this way, at least it offered hope.
The only problem was that Ves didn't have a clue how to go about the problem. The Mech Corps undoubtedly put a lot of researchers together to fix the problem themselves. If Ves wanted to upstage those scientists, he'd have to find a way to cheat.
"That's where the System should come in."
He still saved up a decent amount of DP. The last time he checked his reserve, he accumulated more than 50,000 DP, all of which he'd earned from selling his Blackbeak models.
Strangely enough, the System included the bronze-label mechs fabricated by EME to his credit as well. Ves estimated that EME must have earned a fortune by selling over four-hundred mechs so far. Since the System based its DP rewards by revenue instead of profits, Ves received a lot more DP from EME than from the LMC's own in-house production.
"There's a benefit to a larger scale of production."
The System's remuneration system prioritized the spread of his designs over how he could maximize the profits of each mech. In a way, their goals diverged, as Ves wanted to focus on selling a limited quality of high quality mechs while the System wanted to spread his mechs regardless of their merits.
In any case, that was a problem for another day. First, he had to consider how to spend his DP. 50,000 DP sounded a lot, but it could easily be wasted if he invested in the wrong skills and items.
"I've got to learn more about the overcharge phenomenon first. Until I can narrow down the list of possible solutions, I have no clue where I can best spend my DP."
Ves turned off his comm and went back to work. Even if he wanted to spend some time on researching the overcharge phenomenon, he still had to meet his obligations to the Whalers. He made a promise, after all.
Through his work, Ves became exposed to a variety of different mechs, almost all of which had been cheap, second-hand or modified to the point where he couldn't figure out their original design.
Getting his hands dirty with each of these mechs had broadened his vision concerning the many ways in which a mech designer chose to reduce the cost of their designs. Ves had never thought up such extreme measures, and getting a detailed glimpse of other people's works enlightened him to a different style of designing mechs.
"I've always been straight and narrow with my designs. Quality comes first."
Both the Marc Antony and the Blackbeak carried his philosophy of squeezing as much quality as possible out of the limitations set by his budget.
For example, the Mark II had been designed to deliver the most value for its recommended price tag of 30 million credits, while the Blackbeak tried to do the same for a base price of 60 million credits. Ves always set a budget and tried to exceed the average level of performance of other designs that cost the same.
Through these cheap designs, Ves figured out a different philosophy. It was a philosophy that revolved around cost, and cost alone.
Quality and performance didn't matter too much, not at this price range. Mechs that cost less than 10 million credits performed so badly that it didn't matter if you dropped a little lower. As long as you could shave off a couple of hundred thousand credits here and there, any compromise in performance could be justified.
All of this had to do with the inherent cost efficiency of numbers versus quality.
The Bright Republic's mech industry maintained a very rough rule of thumb on this issue.
Two mechs that cost 5 million credits each could beat a single mech worth 15 million credits.
Two mechs that cost 10 million credits each could beat a single mech worth 30 million credits.
Two mechs that cost 20 million credits each could beat a single mech worth 60 million credits.
Two mechs that cost 50 million credits each could beat a single mech worth 120 million credits.
Four mechs that cost 150 million credits each could beat a single mech worth 1 billion credits.
These figures stated that it was always better to field more mechs than to invest in a smaller amount of more expensive mechs. Even that single mech worth 1 billion credits would be forced to run like a dog if it faced a swarm of mechs that each cost only 5 million credits.
Smaller outfits like the Whalers didn't lack for low-quality mech pilots. They often worried about coming up with the money to buy more mechs. This led to the decision to invest in lots of cheap mechs.
The elite portion of the Mech Corps and the better-off outfits faced the opposite situation. They often enjoyed abundant funding, but they faced an insurmountable bottleneck in terms of recruiting talented mech pilots. Each advanced pilot and higher was a treasure, and it would be a waste if they paired them with a worthless mech.
These kinds of buyers had to maximize the value they could squeeze out of their pilots. They didn't care as much about how much money they had to spend, so long as their pilots could fully exploit their talents.
Ves had always focused on the latter clientele and completely neglected the segment of the market with the highest volume of sales. He thought that such cheap mechs lacked sophistication, and that they derived the majority of their cost savings by cutting corners.
"It's true, but there's more to it."
His opinion turned out to be prejudiced. After multiple detailed studies of their designs, Ves gained a new appreciation of budget mechs.
"It's true that they cut a lot of corners, but they're always very inventive about it. They cut out anything that's superfluous and treat the parts that are absolutely essential with reverence."
The key to keeping down the costs lay in specializing the designs.
An expensive design like the Blackbeak could fulfill multiple roles. While Ves designed it as an offensive knight, it possessed enough traits from other types to act like a skirmisher of defensive knight if the situation called for it. Any buyer would easily be able to accentuate these roles by applying some aftermarket modifications to the frame.
Ves had already done so for Fadah's Blackbeak.
The cheap mechs in the hands of the rest of the Whalers lacked this fluidity in roles. Their designers only kept one rigid vision in mind when they came up with their designs.
A light skirmisher always functioned as a descent skirmisher, but it lacked the advanced sensors to act as a scout. It also couldn't be employed as a light rifleman due to the lack of optimization in its arms.
He learned that this wasn't a bad thing. A mech specialized for one single style of combat delivered so much cost savings that they'd been able to depress the production cost to an enviably low sum.
"A hyper-specialized design is probably twenty-five percent cheaper than a standard design."
To gangs and mercenary corps with little funds at their disposal, the demerits of these designs didn't scare them off too much. Anything that couldn't be solved with quality could be compensated by numbers.
For the first time since the start of his career, Ves felt the urge to design a cheap but effective frontline mech.
"Walter's Whalers can do better. They're getting stiffed by their suppliers."
Ves had casually inquired how much they spent on these mechs, and in his eyes they'd been scammed. The Whalers spent five million credits on pieces of junk that shouldn't be worth more than three million credits.
"I can do better."
Chapter 296
Raella Larkinson strode among the vanguard of the Blood Claws horde. Over two hundred mechs spent days trying to traverse the rugged and uneven terrain of the Glowing Planet.
Since she didn't bring her own mech along, the Blood Claws lent her a mech that fit her well.
The Sliverath wasn't like her Vectrix at all.
Her previous dueling-oriented mech excelled at quick bursts of performance, offering a lot of power at the cost of poor efficiency.
That didn't mean the Sliverath turned those parameters around, but it offered a much flatter performance curve in order to extend its uptime. At their current power-saving pace of marching, the Sliverath could easily last a couple of days without replenishing its energy cells.
The Blood Claws still did so after each day in case they met an ambush. A couple of low hovering transports followed far behind them to supply the mechs. Everyone kept an extremely lengthy distance from the transport vessels, since they carried so many energy cells that the explosion could mimic a weapon of mass destruction if they all set off.
The overcharge phenomenon manifested more changes than that. Each mech kept a healthy distance from each other as well in order to avoid a chain reaction.
They even knew precisely how far they had to disperse. Some of the scientists from the Mech Corps came up with a formula that determined the volatility of each mech from how many energy cells they carried and how much overcharge they held.
The results would be indexed from a number from 0 to 10. The number 0 represented no risk while the number 10 meant that a kilometer wide area would be scoured from end to end.
The Sliverath only received a score of 3, as the light skirmisher didn't offer much space to store a lot of energy cells. It also didn't drain as much energy as a laser rifleman, so the smaller capacity didn't hinder the mech.
"Hey Dietrich." She called over her private channel with her boyfriend. "How's it going? Do you miss the feeling of flying in the air?"
"Not really. It's way too dangerous to pilot an aerial mech on this cursed planet. I'd rather hide behind some solid cover this time."
The Glowing Planet's abundant exotic minerals emitted constant interference fields that made flying a bad choice. Besides having to deal with unstable flight, any aerial mech would only need to be hit once before they popped like fireworks due to their light armor and heightened energy consumption.
Thus, Dietrich borrowed an average rifleman mech model instead of a mech identical to his Harrier. Even if he disliked being bound to the land, he didn't want to leave his girlfriend alone when she was about to embark on her first actual battle.
The attack force reached the pirate base a couple of hours later. A scout mech that had been watching over their activities met with Kanaan, the head of the force.
"Report."
"It's just like the boss predicted. The rats have just found out about the overcharge stuff and are scrambling to get their mechs back online. They even stopped their digging activities because of that. Most of their mechs and assets are still above ground.
The scout passed a detailed topographic map of the base to everyone in the attack force. Raella studied it with her own eyes and saw that the pirates circled their grounded carriers as makeshift walls.
"Are these carriers vulnerable?"
"No. The ship crews dismantled and hauled away their energy cells. They're solely running on ship-grade fuel now."
"A shame, but to be expected. The pirates aren't that stupid." Kanaan flatly remarked. "Have you identified the leaders?"
"Yeah. There's a squad of mechs that look fancier than the rest. They're probably part of the Dragons of the Void."
A number of dragon-themed mechs appeared over the projection. The command squad featured a high proportion of swordsman mechs and only included a couple of rifleman mechs for posterity.
"Damn, these swordsman mechs look slippery. It will be hard to pin them down, let alone blow up their energy cells."
After projecting the elite mechs, the scout also showed off some of the regular pirate mechs. "The rest of the pirate models are typical low-tier mechs. They're very diverse, but they're all crappy to an extent."
"What about fixed defenses? Do we have to worry about turrets and such?"
"Oh, they erected a couple of turrets, but as far as I'm aware of, they still run on their own energy cells. Focus at the base of the turrets if you want to pop those cells."
"Noted. Anything else we should know?"
"Yeah. Those ship-grade energy cells I just mentioned? The pirates chucked them to the other side of that mountain over there. I got a marksman stationed far away but with a direct line of sight of that pile."
"You're not thinking of..."
"Oh yeah, let's say we blow it up."
Everyone grinned at that suggestion. Pirates had never been very smart, and these ones seem dimmer than usual for dumping all of their excess energy cells in the same place. Even if the cells had been dumped a couple of kilometers away, the magnitude of the explosion should be unlike anything they had ever seen before.
Kanaan formed a quick adjustment to the plan. "Alright men, let's do it like this. Instead of surrounding the base from all sides, we'll be waiting behind those low hills on the opposite side of the big bang. That should shelter our mechs enough from the blast."
Once the massive explosion ran its course, the Blood Claws and their subordinate forces would rise up from the hills and shoot at the disoriented pirates. However, Kanaan didn't want to let the melee mechs like Raella's Sliverath go forth.
"It's too easy for mechs to clump up this way. It only takes one suicidal pirate to decide he wants to take his opponent with him to the grave. Stay with the ranged mechs and guard them against any incoming pirates."
With the plan set, the attack force moved to their new coordinates. Even though they tried to hide their maneuvers, somehow the pirates got wind of their presence. Alarms sounded out in their comm channels, alerting them of an imminent attack.
"No time! Everyone, hug the ground! Scouts, blow up the energy cells!"
A fair distance away, a single high-intensity laser beam struck the sturdy energy cells stacked up in a mound. The laser bore through the strengthened shell of the ship-grade energy cell and proceeded to excite the overcharged energy within.
BOOOOOOOOM!
The chain reaction happened almost instantly after the first energy cell blew up. All of the explosions melded into a single overwhelming discharge that vaporized the nearby terrain and caused a hefty localized earthquake.
The pirates lost their footing due to the enormous blast. Lots of mechs fell over due to the instability. Only the Blood Claws remained stable as they already huddled their mechs on all fours.
"Attack!" Kanaan ordered.
The rifleman and cannoneer mechs crested behind the hills and began to chew through the ships in their way. They made quick progress as they each focused on a couple of points. The combination of lasers, explosive shells and kinetic projectiles made quick work of the vulnerable hulls.
"The pirates are recovering!" A scout reported. "The enemy command squad is kicking the pirate mechs back to their feet!"
By the time the Blood Claws chewed through a single carrier, the command squad gathered over fifty mechs, with more enemies joining in at any moment.
"Hold position and continue firing!"
The Blood Claws faced more obstacles as the pirates erected a lot of mobile cover blocks. They consisted of cheap, bulky alloys that provided enough cover to protect a pair of mechs.
Neither side gained the advantage at the start, though the mechs fighting for the Blood Claws succeeded in killing a couple of pirate mechs that had been slow to recover. The incidental explosions from those mechs set back any attempts by the pirates to organize into a cohesive defense.
While they destroyed over twenty pirate mechs, the base held a lot more mechs than that. Even if some of them didn't function due to their safeguards, the pirates could still muster more than two-hundred-and-fifty mechs.
One of the dragon mechs organized a loose formation of a little less than a hundred melee mechs. Once they gathered up, they stormed out of the base in an oversized wave that stretched for several kilometers.
"Melee mechs, get ready! Remember, whatever you do, don't focus on their energy cells and keep your ejection trigger at hand. Don't hesitate to eject if you think your energy cells will be breached!"
Both sides met just over the hills in an awkward collision. As if agreed beforehand, neither the pirates nor the Blood Claws clumped up too much. The clash turned into a series of duels as each mech only faced a single opponent at a time.
"This is more like it." Raella grinned as her Sliverath unsheathed a pair of straight knives. Her mech danced forward, carrying with it her eagerness to gut her first pirate mech. "Come on! Let's see if you have what it takes!"
The pirate mech in front of her wielded a spear in one hand and a pistol in the other. While the pistol shot some miniature shells that scratched the Sliverath's coating, it hardly achieved anything else.
Raella outright ignored the pistol and deflected the incoming thrust of the swear by crossing the Sliverath's knives.
"Too weak!"
The spearman mech looked old and rusty. Its performance simply couldn't match a modern advanced mech like the Sliverath. She deftly curved her mech around her opponent and stabbed her knives into the upper back.
The knives peeled away the rear armor. Raella wanted to take out her opponent in one move, but her mech lacked the strength to dig in deeper.
"Damn, I forgot this isn't the Vectrix!"
Her Vectrix would have crippled her opponent's mech in a single strike. Raella hastily recovered from her blunder by moving away before darting back in again. She easily deflected the next one-armed spear stab before she slunk a knife into the rear internals of the pirate mech.
This time, the mech collapsed, having lost all of its power. Raella didn't stick around and moved her Sliverath away. She didn't want to stick around in case the pilot decided to self-destruct his disabled mech.
She aided an allied mech that looked to be in bad shape. The swordsman mech it faced possessed actual skill. Yet Raella made short work of the threat by outmaneuvering the slower mech. Again, she disabled the mech by stabbing it from the stab.
"These pirates are worse than amateur duelists!"
His cousins always warned her not to underestimate an actual battlefield. Raella had to admit they had a point when it came to the Vesia Kingdom's Mech Legion, but these pirates fought like trash.
Once she found her rhythm, Raella easily disabled the pirate mechs left and right. She achieved most of her results by teaming up with a fellow Blood Claw mech. Skirmishers like the Sliverath achieved the best results if their opponents had already been locked into combat with their opponents.
To the side, Raella absently noted that another mech copied the same strategy as hers. She recognized the distinctive black look of her cousin's Blackbeak mech. She sneered at the sight.
"I don't need a babysitter. You shouldn't have come here, Ves."
She ignored the black mech that followed in her Sliverath's footsteps and brought her mech to her next victim.
Over time, the hundred pirate mechs lost a third of their numbers. The difference in quality and the lack of preparation pressed the pirate mechs further away from the vulnerable ranged mechs.
Up to this point, none of the mechs had exploded as of yet. That changed when a rifleman mech bearing the emblem of the Dragons of the Void shot at an immobilized pirate mech.
It blew up, shaking the nearby mechs away from the center of the blast. Both the pirates and the Blood Claws scratched their heads at the action. Didn't they worry about friendly fire?
Evidently, the rifleman mech threw common sense out of the window and continued to shoot at the downed mechs, all of which presented easy targets to an experienced rifleman mech pilot. Explosion after explosion erupted on the hills.
At least the Blood Claws already prepared for such a spiteful act. They always fought a healthy distance from the inner radius of any downed mech. This diminished the effectiveness of this tactic.
The Dragons of the Void changed tack. They issued a command that drove the surviving pirates mad. Somehow, they all went berserk.
Chapter 297
"I'm in trouble!"
"Did they all take stimulants or something? They're fighting to the death!"
"AAhhhhh! Save me!"
They suffered their first casualty soon after the sudden change. A knight mech got surrounded by two sword-wielding pirates. The defensive knight lacked the speed to fend off both mechs.
One of the pirates deliberately chipped away at the energy cells stored underneath its thinner rear armor. Once the pirate struck the energy cells, they both turned into conflagrations that further disarrayed the mechs around them and even crippled the other pirate mech.
"They're suicidal!"
"Calm down!" Kanaan roared over the channel. "Ranged mechs, suppress the pirate rifleman mechs. Don't let them set off any more mechs. Everyone else, don't hesitate to eject! If the pirates are eager to blow themselves up, then let's oblige them!"
Kanaan's words stabilized the Blood Claws pilot who had been wavering in their resolve. While it was dishonorable to eject too soon, the changes the Glowing Planet imposed on their mechs left them with little choice. They'd rather lose a mech and save a pilot than lose both of them for a needless cause.
Mechs continued to explode left and right, but the Blood Claws always ejected from their mechs in a timely manner. Once the threat of mutual destruction had been taken away, the pirates fell behind, as their reckless offensive turned them into mindless savages that only knew how to attack in a straightforward way.
Raella felt like she had the time of her life. Her nimble Sliverath easily coursed through the pirate formation and harassed them from the rear. Oftentimes, she aborted her attacks and spun away, which distracted her targets and even prompted a couple of them to hit their self-destruct buttons prematurely.
"Hahahaha!" She laughed as she just finished toying with another mech who blew himself up for no reason. "Is this all you've got!?"
"No."
A swordsman mech almost struck the Sliverath. Only Raella's keen reflexes allowed her to juke her mech away at the last moment. She turned her sensors and gazed at the mech that almost cut off her mech and cursed.
She faced one of the elites this time. The command squad joined their suicidal subordinates and shored up their dwindling numbers. Raella happened to have the bad luck to draw the personal attention of one of those mechs.
"What's your name?"
"You can call me Takeru. And who might you be, milady?"
"Raella Larkinson."
The two mechs stood opposite of each other for a couple of seconds. Eventually, Raella made the first move. Her instincts as a mech athlete screamed at her to make the first move since she piloted the lighter mech.
The Sliverath slithered forth in an undulating trajectory that had been this model's hallmark. It didn't offer as much speed as the Vectrix, but it made up for it in flexibility.
Raella cautiously jabbed forward with a knife, only to get deflected by a powerful counter-strike that continued to chop at the Sliverath's head.
Fortunately, the skirmisher mech easily contorted its frame out of the path of the sword. Raella struck with her other knife, leaving behind a shallow nick on the arm.
"Damnit, what is your mech made of?"
The Slitherath didn't feature any compressed armor, but the mech piloted by her opponent evidently did. This placed a significant burden on her as the Slitherath had to target the same areas over and over to penetrate the tough compressed armor plating.
The dragon mech's pilot was no slouch either. Takeru showed an unprecedented level of mastery in swordsmanship as the dragon mech wielded its sword in both hands with powerful, sweeping strokes.
The speed and power behind each strike left little openings for Raella to exploit despite piloting the faster mech. Takeru ruthlessly took over her momentum and pressed the Sliverath back again and again.
"What the hell are you?! You're not a regular pirate!"
"You are way too green to know how real pirates fight. Let me show you the might of the dragons!"
The swordsman mech unleashed a flurry of continuous blows that left the Sliverath flustered. Both her knives kept being knocked back by the power of the rapid swirling sword strikes. As the Sliverath braced itself for another chop, the dragon mech suddenly lashed out with a kick which ruined its balance.
The sword chopped forth and struck an ugly rent in the Sliverath's chest. Only Raella's quick decision to go with the fall had saved her mech from being chopped apart by the shoulder.
A couple of long-ranged lasers struck the swordsman mech, but they did little but annoy it. Dietrich sporadically fired his rifle at Takeru's mech, but the angle and all of the other mechs in the way made it difficult for him to suppress the elite mech.
"Hold on, Raella! Help is on the way! My buddy Fadah will buy some time for you to retreat."
She didn't want to turn her back on this opponent. Even though Takeru outclassed her in both skill and mech, Raella wanted to prove herself as a warrior. Picking off those weak pirates didn't cut it for her.
Before the dragon mech unleashed another attack, a second mech struck it from behind, forcing Takeru to abort his attack. A slim moon-shaped phoenix shield slammed into the dragon mech's sword. The impact pushed the pirate mech away and allowed the Blackbeak to position itself in front of the damaged Sliverath.
"Raella, right? Your mech is in bad shape. You're in no shape to fight any further. I'll hold this bastard off for you!"
"No!" Raella growled, and tested the responsiveness of her mech. "I can still fight! Let's take him down together!"
Her left arm had lost most of its motive power. The damage to the shoulder had been too severe. Raella gave up on the limb and focused solely on using the Sliverath's right arm to deliver her attacks.
If her mech was in better shape, she would have insisted on taking on the elite mech alone, even though the odds of victory were low. Teaming up with Fadah had already pressed against her limits.
The Blackbeak mech shrugged and turned around to face the swordsman mech with its sword and shield. As a slimmed down offensive knight, the Blackbeak wouldn't fare well if it engaged in a straightforward slugging match against the pirate mech. Much like the Sliverath, the modified Blackbeak began to approach the dragon mech in a zig-zag and at an angle.
Fadah unleashed a couple of probing strikes, but Takeru aggressively deflected the attacks. He proved to be well-versed in dealing with faster mechs.
Once Takeru got the measure of the Blackbeak, his dragon mech surged forward and went on the offensive. Fadah had to rely on his shield to block most of the blows.
Before the dragon mech could press the Blackbeak further, the Slitherath quietly appeared from behind and tried to stab the dragon mech's vulnerable rear.
"Did you think I was blind? Your intentions are too transparent!"
The dragon mech spun his sword in a spin that deflected the Blackbeak away and left another dangerous rent in the Sliverath's chest. Raella's reflexes saved her mech again, if barely.
"Go away!"
"Screw you, doghead! I'm taking this bastard down!"
Both Raella and Fadah found themselves in a tentative uncoordinated dance against the indomitable Takeru. His dragon mech's specs exceeded the Blackbeak by a fair margin, though it still ran on energy cells so it was vulnerable to the same risks as the other machines that ran on the same source of energy.
This enabled the pair to exploit this weakness by constantly threatening to attack the rear of the dragon mech. Even if Takeru didn't think much of Raella, he still had to shift his attention to deflect her latest probe.
Dietrich tried to lend a hand but he never got a clear line of sight. The pirates had finally gotten their act together and sent out additional mechs to shore up the first wave of melee mechs.
Despite the precautions taken by the Blood Claws, mechs continued to explode in a disturbingly regular interval. Kanaan had largely lost control over his men as everyone fought for themselves.
Only the ranged mechs maintained some sense of order as they coordinated their attacks on isolated enemies. They didn't dare fire their weapons into the middle of the grand melee for fear of setting off a chain reaction.
Unfortunately, the pirates didn't hold as much scruples and constantly tried to aggravate the situation. This in turn forced the Blood Claws to allocate all of their ranged mechs to suppression duty. The pirate marksmen shouldn't be allowed to set off any energy cells with impunity.
Takeru's dragon mech suffered a few more nicks and scratches after a minute of back and forth. Despite being outnumbered, the pirate elite possessed enough skill to fend off both of its opponents at once.
"Hahahaha! Amateurs! Both your blades are dull! Without tempering your skill through life-and-death battles, how can you call yourself a mech pilot!"
"Shut up you criminal!" Raella roared as she pushed her anger into her damaged mech, willing it to slide the knife in the waist of the dragon mech. She completely forgot about the precarious risk of setting off an energy cell.
The pirate mech spun away in the nick of time. Takeru even left another sword mark on the Blackbeak's chest armor.
Fortunately, the Veltrex armor system held up decently well against the power of the dragon mech's sword strikes. For all of its speed and elegance, it relied mostly on technique and momentum for its bite. By pressuring Takeru from two directions, they prevented him from building up sufficient momentum for a heavy blow.
Fadah gained more confidence and started to regain some of the initiative. He didn't allow his opponent to wind up for one of his endless flurry of blows by making frequent but shallow attacks. He even struck with the edge of his phoenix shield to knock the dragon mech out of balance.
Takeru's mech started to suffer. Even Raella managed to sneak some superficial stabs in between the pirate's occupation with the Blackbeak. Takeru had to devote more and more attention to fending off Fadah's frequent attacks.
At some point, Fadah felt something deep within him echo with the Blackbeak he piloted. Their connection somehow crystallized in a deeper form of synchronization. The line between man and machine started to blur, but only for an instant.
Fadah made his move in that brief window of opportunity.
The Blackbeak surged forth at the swordsman mech's left flank. Takeru released a windmill chop that would have forced the Blackbeak to block with its shield. Instead of taking the chop head-on, Fadah angled the shield in a way that put the brunt of the force on the rim of the shield.
This gave his Blackbeak enough of a push to swivel around and put more strength into its stab. Fadah's sword sunk into the dragon mech's joints. The thin, flexible plates of compressed armor only blunted half of the force in the stab. The remaining power proved to be sufficient to disable the joint between the arm and the shoulder.
"NO!"
Takeru's mech lost a significant amount of threat after Fadah succeeded in disabling one of its arms. Even though the dragon mech continued to put up a good fight with one arm, the mech obviously lacked a lot of power compared to before.
This allowed Fadah to be more unscrupulous with his attacks. The Blackbeak's sword and shield started to hammer the tough exterior of the dragon mech. In contrast, Takeru could barely bite into the Blackbeak's Veltrex armor with his feeble sword strikes.
It didn't help that Fadah decided to stick his mech close to his opponent's machine. The shortened distance proved ideal for the Blackbeak to attack with its one-handed sword.
The dragon mech meanwhile couldn't leverage enough distance to enable its longer sword to exert its full power.
CLANG!
The swordsman mech shuddered as Fadah shaved off an important armor plate from the dragon's mech chest. Its internals became exposed.
SHUNK!
At the same time, Raella took advantage of Takeru's shock by stabbing the Sliverath's sole knife into the shoulder blade of the dragon's mech's sole functioning arm. While her knife didn't manage to cripple the arm, the damage it inflicted had severed a couple of minor systems, which reduced the pirate mech's responsiveness.
"I will not fall on this cursed planet!"
"Oh shut up you pirate!"
Both Raella and Fadah went for the killing blow. The Blackbeak locked the dragon mech's sword with its shield while ramming the tip of its sword into the exposed chest of its opponent. Raella meanwhile positioned the Sliverath low to the ground and sunk the knife into the dragon mech's knee.
Takeru's mech lost its footing and much of its power. It fell down onto my face.
"Get away!" Dietrich yelled. He'd always been keeping an eye on their duel as he fired his laser rifle in support of other Blood Claws. "He's going to blow!"
Both mechs retreated in an instant, already bracing themselves for the inevitable blow.
Yet instead of an explosion, the dragon mech's cockpit ejected from the rear. Its powerful short-ranged boosters took Takeru away from the battle and back to the besieged pirate encampment.
"Dammit! He got away!"
Even though the escape spoiled some of the glory, Raella still felt good about winning against her first formidable opponent. She didn't mind too much that she needed help.
"Thanks for the help, dude. Let's go clean up the rest."
The fall of an influential pirate elite rippled throughout the rest of the pirate faction. Despite their fanaticism, the rest of the pirates couldn't withstand the determined Blood Claws.
Even the command squad from the Dragons of the Void suffered casualties and Raella and Fadah teamed up to dismantle them one by one. This time, they didn't let their pilots eject. They both aimed to take out the cockpit from the start.
After half an hour of intensive battle, the Blood Claws won the melee, though it cost them half of their melee mechs.
Chapter 298
The Blood Claws and their subordinate forces lost too many mechs from a single engagement. Even though the pirates put up a decent fight, the battle shouldn't have been so deadly to their mechs and pilots.
Ordinarily, mechs could soak a lot of damage. Even uncompressed mechs outperformed conventional tanks due to their mobility which allowed them to dodge or mitigate a lot of incoming attacks.
"It's this overcharge nonsense." Kanaan uttered as he saw the devastation in front of him. A field of craters and broken parts had been strewn before the pirate base that his men heaped their vengeance upon right now. "Any battle besides an ambush will result in a pyrrhic victory for whoever's left."
A few of the senior Blood Claws by his side nodded. "Our steeds have become our worst enemies."
"It's too difficult to guard your energy cells in a larger battle."
"We'll be turning our pilots into cowards if we allow them to eject too early."
"Mechs have turned into fragile scrap. Even the Mech Corps will run out of mechs by the end of the month at this rate."
Their first actual battle had taught them a lot of lessons on the devastating consequences of the overcharge phenomenon. A single change to the functioning of an energy cell had resulted in far-reaching effects for any force that fielded mechs.
The Blood Claws completely lost their appetite for further battles. None of the men found any glory to be had in the grueling fight they had just concluded. If they hadn't been compelled to attack the base by the 4th Bentheim Division, they would have never ranged this far from their walls.
"Alright, let's wrap it up here. Rescue any mech pilots that are trapped and finish off any pirates that are still alive except for the leaders. Have you gotten a hold of Takeru and the rest of the Dragons of the Void?"
"They ran away. They still hid a small corvette in between their carriers which lifted off out of sight behind that hill over there."
"Damn!"
Even if they stomped on a dangerous forward outpost, thus reducing the threat to their base, Kanaan still felt sore about the losses.
Over the next few days, the news trickled back to the Mech Corps and their affiliate powers. The Whalers especially took the news with a gut punch, because they lost six mechs and four pilots. Proportionally, they suffered the worst casualties out of the outfits that took part in the assault.
This time, the Whalers hadn't been able to drink their gloom away.
Ves quietly shook his head as he finished modifying the umpteenth mech. He developed an efficient routine that allowed him to come up with some basic modifications on the fly and implement them into the cheap mechs in three hours or less.
He had to cut a lot of corners in order to achieve this speed, but Ves succeeded in overhauling every mech in the hands of the Whalers within a week.
"I can't waste too much time in this base. The Whalers will be fine without me once I find a solution to the overcharge phenomenon."
Ves had devoted some of his off-time to researching what the Glowing Planet did to achieve this bizarre phenomenon. His current hypothesis was that some energetic exotic mineral emitted an all-pervasive energy field that changed the properties of stored energy.
The worst trait about the energy field was that it couldn't be blocked by anything. To test this out, Ves repurposed some tons of scrap and built a thick enclosure around a freshly drained and recharged energy cell.
The cell still gained an overcharge after a day.
If Ves couldn't prevent the field from affecting an energy cell surrounded by meters of alloys, then nothing else but some other exotic alloy would be able to block the energy field. The problem was that Ves had no clue what kind of exotics would qualify.
Walter's Whalers accumulated more than fifty different minerals from their mining activities over two locations.
The old site contained more active and more valuable minerals, but none seemed to possess any special interaction with energy.
As for the new site, it contained an entirely different mix of exotics, but again nothing seemed to stand out to Ves.
Perhaps some of these exotics held the key to solving the problem, but it would take too much time to probe each type of mineral. Ves needed a faster, surer solution than a gamble with exotics.
Through his casual studies and experimentation, Ves developed a number of approaches on how to tackle the problem.
He could invest in his Physics Sub-Skills and become more knowledgeable in the abstract fields of energy.
He could invest in Metallurgy and reinvigorate his research on exotics in order to come up with a new exotic alloy that might be able to influence the mysterious energy field.
He could also throw a Hail Mary and acquire some eclectic Sub-Skills from the Metaphysics tree. Perhaps a deeper understanding into the imaginary would be needed to fight against the unknown.
After lengthy contemplation, he rejected these approaches. All of them strayed too far from his core competence as a mech designer.
"I'm a mech designer, not a scientist. There's a difference between the two."
The former took the tools at hand and combined them in a way that solved the problem at hand. The latter wasn't content with the tools already available, and sought to explore new methods.
Neither approach was wrong. Both had the potential to come up with an effective solution to the overcharge phenomenon, and Ves had to take the approach that fit him best.
"Let's try it from a mech designer and engineering standpoint."
Ves called up a design for a typical energy cell.
Their design didn't differ too much from brand to brand. Protective materials and safeguards took up around twenty percent of its volume.
The most important part of an energy cell lay in the patterns and arrays that stored the actual energy. The cheaper cells used mundane alloys while the more expensive ones incorporated exotic resources that drastically increased their maximum capacity.
As far as Ves was aware, the overcharge phenomenon didn't discriminate between materials. Both cheap and expensive cells suffered from the same problem, though with slight differences in magnitude.
Another correlation he found was that certain structures resulted in a less drastic overcharge than other structures.
Ves focused on the latter for a possible solution. "If I can play with this structure, I might be able to achieve a drastic difference."
He figured that most scientists and mech designers that had tagged along with the forces here would focus on the materials instead. With the abundant amount of exotics dug from the ground, they may be able to figure out an effective new alloy that could mitigate the phenomenon.
From the moment they heard about the Glowing Planet, the Mech Corps would have certainly brought along a lot of specialists who dedicated their lives to understanding exotics.
In contrast, they probably didn't think of bringing any mech designers or engineers who specialized in energy cells. In truth, much of the innovation with regards to energy cells had been kept in the hands of the large trans-galactic corporations.
Hardly any mech designers decided to specialize in something as boring as energy cells. They'd rather license an affordable ready-made design. After all, specializing in other components yielded easier performance gains and saved them a lot of money in licensing costs.
"What kind of Skills and Sub-Skills do I need to specialize in designing energy cells?"
The worst part about working on the Glowing Planet was that the Whalers didn't set up a quantum entanglement node. Neither did the Blood Claws do so for that matter. The Mech Corps forbade any communication with the rest of the galaxy and strictly prohibited the activation of any nodes on the ground.
Only the Mech Corps themselves enjoyed that privilege.
"I don't have the right to access the galactic net from their access points."
Ves shook his head and decided to explore another way. He returned to his barracks and entered his private bunk. After sealing it up, he activated his Privacy Shield and activated the Mech Designer System before navigating to the Skill Tree.
"Let's see what you've got."
With over 50,000 DP to spend, Ves had plenty of points to spend on various Skills and Sub-Skills. The basic ones didn't take too much DP to unlock.
"I'm already a Journeyman in Electrical Engineering, but I don't have a lot of Sub-Skills related to this field."
To be honest, he hadn't found a use for that Skill outside of coming up with new internal architectures for his designs. Ves made very little gains in this field ever since he forcibly upgraded it by spending his DP.
"It's time to make better use of you."
He found a couple of related Sub-Skills that sounded relevant to the issue at hand.
[Energy Storage I]: 400 DP
[Energy Storage II]: 800 DP
[Energy Storage III]: 1600 DP
[Energy Storage IV]: 3200 DP
Learning these Sub-Skills all at once gave Ves a much deeper understanding on the physical makeup of energy cells.
Ves understood what each safeguard did and how they prevented any shorting or accidental discharge. He knew why mech designers came up with a single size and format of an energy cell.
He learned the basics of how a cell could pack more energy by using different materials or incorporating them in different structures, alternating between conductors, superconductors, exotic conductors and nonconductive materials.
"This is a lot."
He turned from a novice to an amateur expert with regards to energy cells. Previously, Ves treated them like black boxes, something that was independent from his designs and should not be tinkered with. Now that he gained all of this new knowledge, he finally gained the basic confidence to tweak an existing energy cell.
"It's not enough to design a new one, however."
Ves lacked too much of the underlying science and engineering to develop a new energy cell from scratch. Fortunately, that had never been his goal from the start. He didn't need to reinvent the wheel. He just had to modify an existing one to the point where it stopped acquiring an overcharge.
New knowledge brought new understanding. Combined with his previous experimentation, he realized how impossible it was for energy cells to hold more charge than they had been designed to store.
"It's impossible. It simply doesn't work that way."
Yet somehow, it did.
He shook his head. Ves would get a headache if he kept obsessing about the impossible nature of an overcharged energy cell.
Now that he received a crash course about energy cells, Ves figured out the kind of Sub-Skills he needed to design or modify different structures.
[Conductors I]: 1000 DP
[Conductors II]: 2000 DP
[Conductors III]: 4000 DP
Ves gained a much better insight into conductors, superconductors and exotic conductors with this cross-discipline Sub-Skill. It elaborated on the Energy Storage IV by going into detail about the properties of different conductors and how modern energy cell designers squeezed more energy density out of the materials they had at hand.
"It doesn't help me too much with finding a solution."
As far as he knew, regardless of the material, as long as they conducted energy, they all became susceptible to the overcharge phenomenon. It would take a deeper dive into Metallurgy to come up with a conductive material that might be immune to the energy field.
"That's not the focus of my research."
Learning about conductors didn't just help him design better energy cells. It also benefited his insights on how to design a more efficient internal architecture for mechs. In that regard, he didn't waste his DP.
"It's not that relevant, though."
Still, he needed it to understand the actual energy storage portion of an energy cell. Combined with his other knowledge, Ves began to see the light.
Chapter 299
Ves hadn't spent 13,000 DP in vain.
The Energy Storage IV and Conductors III Sub-Skill provided him with enough of a foundation to take any existing energy cell design and transform it into something else. They also provided him with a promising approach on how to deal with the overcharge phenomenon.
"The Glowing Planet's energy field can't be stopped or blocked. An energy cell will acquire an overcharge whether they're empty or full. The energy field makes it so that energy cells won't let physics stand in the way of stuffing themselves full with energy."
What did this mean?
"I should just let it happen. The key is to mitigate the problem after it has occurred."
The simplest and most primitive way would be to drain the overcharge, either by siphoning it elsewhere or by using it up in a rapid fashion.
"I'm sure someone is already figuring out a way to do that. It's not very efficient or safe, though."
Dealing with such a deadly amount of charge risked courting disaster. Any excessive transfers also generated massive amounts of heat and stressed out any components involved. Mechs would require daily maintenance to continue to function this way.
Such a solution merely exchanged one problem for another.
Ves wanted to develop a more elegant solution. In order to gain entry into the fortifications erected by the Mech Corps, Ves had to present the brass with a new design that could impress them on the spot.
"Let's think about the structure for a moment."
Pretty much every mech-grade energy cell focused on cramming as much energy as possible inside its standardized volume. The materials and structures used in the cell focused primarily on maximizing their energy density.
Ves wondered if a structure that prioritized a different goal would be able to achieve a different result. Every energy cell he encountered so far used the same principles to store their energy. They only different in the safeguards and the materials used, leading to a limited variation of structures that basically looked the same from a distance.
A couple of different ideas flourished in his mind. Ves opened the designer program and spent some time designing alternate energy cell designs using existing ones as the base.
To put it simply, Ves thought he might find a solution by lowering the energy density of a cell. In essence, he wanted to see whether the overcharge phenomenon could maintain its strength against energy cells that had been purposefully designed to be bad.
He only spent half a day to come up with four different designs, which he further split up into cheap and expensive variants.
Compared to conventional energy cells, these deviations worked a lot less efficiently than others. They generated substantially more waste heat while holding much less charge in total.
"It's all well and good to doodle some new designs, but the only way to see if it works is if I fabricate some physical copies."
Ves left his bunk and went to the nearest workshop. The Whalers brought a cheap 3D printer to this expedition. It was the sole machine that could print new components if their mechs required replacement parts.
He unconsciously sneered at the sight. The cheap and awful printer had obviously been salvaged from a former production site. Lack of maintenance and overall neglect had degraded the machine to a fairly awful state. The Whalers didn't even bother using it to fabricate most of their replacement parts, preferring to order new ones from another source.
"Well, it's not like I have anything better to work with. Let's fix her up."
He performed some superficial maintenance on the machine. The machine probably hadn't received so much care in a decade. Most of what he did amounted to cleaning the interior and correcting the alignment of any components that had shifted during intensive jobs.
Ves lacked the expertise to bring the printer back to its prime, not that he had the time to spare in the first place. "This should be enough to work with some precision."
He didn't place a lot of demands on the quality of his energy cells. He only wanted some proof of concepts to test out his ideas.
As some of the simpler components of a mech, the printer didn't have to strain too much to spit out the energy cells. It only took two hours to fabricate all eight of them. Ves ordered a couple of bots to take them away to an empty underground testing chamber he appropriated from the Whalers.
While it didn't matter if they held a charge or not, Ves charged them up to full capacity anyway in order to hurry up the process. After that, he set some automated measuring equipment before leaving the energy cells alone.
Ves checked up on his experiment every twelve hours.
The first time he checked in, he raised his eyebrows. Surprisingly enough, one pair of energy cells that shared the same design acquired an overcharge after only several hours.
"If I want to develop a cheap bomb, then this should be the right direction. It's a shame no one will want this. It's too volatile."
He carefully directed a couple of bots to lift the two cells and take them far away from the base. After that, he made some more adjustments to his rig before he left the chamber.
Over the course of several days, Ves continued to visit the chamber to inspect his progress. The other pairs of energy cells eventually became affected by the overcharge phenomenon, but different than last time, the problem became much less severe.
Regular energy cells acquired a charge that varied from three to seven times their initial capacity. In contrast, his experimental designs only acquired a maximum charge of two times its initial capacity.
Ves chalked it up to the tricks he used to minimize the magnification of the charge. He introduced deliberate inefficiencies to stifle any way the energy field could accomplish its physically impossible effects.
Some tricks worked better than others. At the end, the final pair of energy cells which incorporated the most radical redesign gained an overcharge of only a hundred-and-thirty percent, which was drastically lower than anything else he'd seen so far. It also took a lot longer for the energy field to affect these cells, as if it couldn't figure out how to manipulate it in its favor.
The magnitude of any explosive discharges from these cells would be severely curtailed. Ves virtually eliminated the hazards with this design.
While Ves should have been happy with the result, he didn't jump for joy when he ended his test.
"Why am I only able to achieve the best results with my worst design?"
The fourth pair of energy cells only carried a third of the energy of their equivalent industry-standard cells. That basically meant that each mech that ran on energy cells had to choose between becoming moving bombs or working with seventy percent less uptime.
Ves figured that most mech pilots favored the latter. "It's not that much of a problem to a defensive force. The Mech Corps can fabricate an abundant amount of energy cells and instruct their mech pilots to resupply more often."
It was a much more tolerable situation than to constantly worry about chain reactions. Even if his so-called undercharged energy cells sustained critical damage, the explosion wouldn't set off any other cells due to the low magnification and low base charge.
In fact, mechs would be able to safely and quickly use up the meager amount of excess energy in their normal operations. That largely made up for the pitiful amount of capacity of his undercharged energy cells and extended the running time of any mech.
His only regret was that he lacked the time to finetune the design of his undercharged energy cells. Ves had already wasted a lot of time with coming up with these new energy cells and the seventy-day deadline loomed closer every day. He couldn't afford to perform a second round of research and development.
While Ves wrapped up his experiments and drew up a report, up in space, the Glowing Zone hosted a lot more fleets than before.
"Another day, another group of incoming clowns." Ghanso sighed as his mech lazily patrolled a detachment of carriers positioned to intercept anyone that wanted to make a move on the Mech Corps. "I never knew there were so many rats in the Komodo StarSector."
Old Man Alex laughed as his space knight flew beside Ghanso's Vhedra-S. "We're right up against the frontier. It's a given that our star sector is filled with criminals. I'm guessing that at least a quarter of the pirates from the Nyxian Gap have made their way here."
The amount of pirates that have reached the Glowing Zone has reached a disconcerting level. Many of them organized themselves around major pirate organizations like the Dragons of the Void. Over ten such armadas have already formed and made their way towards the Glowing Planet.
"Do you think the rumors are true? Are we really going to sign a truce with the Vesians?"
"We have to." Alex said. "There are too many pirates for us to continue our squabble. Even if we hate each other, we're not stupid. Any fight to the death will only benefit the scum watching from the side."
Besides their initial skirmishes, the Mech Corps and the Mech Legion completely gave up any attempt to fob each other off from the Glowing Planet. Too many vultures had gathered to continue their schoolyard spat.
They would rather allow their principal enemy to benefit from the Glowing Planet than to pave the way for lawless pirates to reap the ultimate rewards. For this, they buried the hatchet.
"All the armada's are on the move again. They'll be here within days."
"It took them long enough to get their hands on a batch of dimensional smoothers. How are they getting their hands on them? I thought only the government or the Big Two had access to that technology."
"It's not that much of a surprise if you assume the pirates are backed up by another major power." Ghanso replied. He couldn't help but add an ominous tone to his voice. "I've been thinking about what's going on lately. Did you ever feel that we're being stared at by another influence?"
"Not at all. Who the hell is crazy enough to covet the Komodo Star Sector? Besides our border to the frontier, we've got nothing that's worth a damn. Anyone who's stirring the pot is probably bored or brain damaged."
Even if Old Man Alex had a point, Ghanso still couldn't shake off the idea that the pirates secretly worked for someone else.
An alert sounded out, prompting Captain Rynsel to issue new orders. "Heads up! Our fleet has detected incoming stealth vessels. They've been very sneaky in their approach, but our sensors spotted them out. The Volari Starhawks have been assigned to intercept this unknown fleet."
"Do we know of their origin, ma'am?"
"Command is just as clueless as you. It's likely not the Mech Legion. We already have a fairly complete database on the kind of ships they use. It's either pirates, mercenaries or foreigners."
That didn't reassure Ghanso very much. His Vedra-S fell into formation as the Volari Starhawks flew forward in a very obvious intercept of the unknown fleet.
This prompted the sneaky bastards to drop their stealth.
"Detecting fifteen medium-sized carriers! They're deploying spaceborn mechs! They're turning around!"
"Hah! The cowards don't have the guts to face the Starhawks face to face!"
"They're also outnumbered two-to-one. Those stealth carriers don't hold much capacity. They look awfully advanced, though."
Captain Rynsel relayed another order. "Pursue! We've got the advantage in numbers and they're still fighting back against their previous forward momentum! This is the only chance we have to catch up to them!"
The Volari Starhawks descended on the latest fleet of outsiders that attempted to sneak past the Mech Corps. They already destroyed or chased away a half-dozen different fleets. The Mech Corps held the advantage for now, but Ghanso doubted they would be able to hold against the major pirate fleets.
Chapter 300
Time was of the essence. Ves immediately entered the comm center and sent a priority message to the Mech Corps through the hardline connection that ran from the Whalers.
His message passed on to the Blood Claws, who didn't dare to delay its transmission in any way given the import of the claims that Ves had made.
Just a couple of minutes later, Ves received a receipt from the base commander herself. He had to sit tight and wait for transport. They wanted to bring him over to verify his invention with their own eyes.
Since this might be the last time he'd stick with the Whalers, Ves quickly sought out Walter and filled him in about his breakthrough.
"You really did it? That's great news!" Walter laughed and embraced the mech designer in a meaty hug. "We won't get to blow up anymore!"
Ves didn't have the heart to hide the designs for the undercharged energy cells from Walter. He passed the gang leader a secure data chip that contained all of the technical specifications.
"You can hand that over to any decent mech technician. They're easy to fabricate but it will take some time before you're able to replace all of your existing cells."
At least they solved this pervasive problem. Ves also granted the Whalers an opportunity to butter up to the Blood Claws by presenting the designs to them a little early. The sooner everyone replaced their energy cells, the safer everyone would be.
Ves and Walter quickly discussed some logistical matters. The Whalers dearly lacked some technical expertise, but this time Walter actually listened to the critique.
"I've been thinking about that as well. Our mechs fared worse than the others in the pirate base assault. We've got a lot of shaping up to do. If I hand over your invention to the Blood Claws, I can probably get them to lend us some of their senior technicians. Heaven knows we need someone who can take over what you've done for us so far."
They parted with each other on amicable terms. Ves quickly packed his meager luggage and sought out Lucky who'd been digging for exotics near the mines. His gluttonous cat must have eaten tons of the stuff already, but he hadn't gained any weight at all.
"You must be chock full of energy right now." Ves grasped hold of his silvery mechanical cat. "We might be moving to the red zone soon. Don't run around randomly, okay? There's a whole bunch of military men running around there so you might be spooking them if you're trespassing into a restricted area."
"Meow!"
His cat appeared to look forward to entering the red zone. As for tripping alarms and alerting the guards, Lucky didn't seem to be worried about that. He only had more exotics in mind.
Fadah and the rest of the Whalers who raided the pirate base hadn't returned yet, so Ves couldn't say goodbye to the inheritor of his Blackbeak in person. Ves composed a quick message and addressed it to Fadah's comm, which would receive it as soon as it returned to the local network.
The only complication that remained was that Ves had to leave Melkor and his Stanislaw behind.
"It's fine, Ves." Melkor replied as he leaned against the foot of his mech. "The Mech Corps and I aren't exactly buddies since they cashiered me. It's best I stay away from their premises in order to avoid any misunderstandings. I'll stick with the Whalers and try to help out Raella whenever possible."
Ves felt reassured that Melkor didn't blame him for bailing out. "That sounds good. Don't forget the contingency plans. I strongly suspect this base won't hold against a determined attack. More and more pirates are descending upon the Glowing Planet. It's going to get awfully crowded soon."
They both heard the news that trickled down from the Blood Claws. Tens of thousands of ships had appeared in the Glowing Zone. Most of them didn't seem to acknowledge any authority except for their own. Even Ves could tell that the Mech Corps had no way of holding back the sheer number of pirates on their way to the Glowing Planet.
They said their goodbyes before Ves left for the landing on the surface in his hazard suit. He only had to wait a couple of minutes before an armored shuttle escorted by a couple of aerial mechs descended on the pad. A uniformed officer appeared from the hatch.
"Mr. Larkinson, please step inside. Do you have the samples?"
"They're over there." Ves pointed at the bots holding the pair of energy cells that fared best in his previous test. "I've already drained their charge, but it's best to handle them with care."
The shuttle sent out their own set of bots who grabbed hold of the samples with extreme care. They carefully placed the cells into purpose-built boxes before closing them up with an abundance of locks.
Once Ves and Lucky stepped inside and the boxes had been stowed away into the shuttle's cargo compartment, the shuttle lifted off.
Neither the officer nor the guards appeared talkative, so Ves remained in his seat and stroked his apprehensive gem cat. Lucky must be feeling apprehensive at being stuck inside a shuttle full of armed guards and countermeasures. It became clear to Ves that the Mech Corps treated his invention with utmost importance.
It didn't take too long for the shuttle to arrive at the center of the sprawling fortification in the middle of the red zone. The closer they got to the center, the more Ves became uncomfortable.
"Over thirteen energy fields are being projected from the red zone." The officer commented when he noticed Ves having trouble keeping himself together. "As far as we're aware, they have minimal effects on human physiology, but it will take some time to get used to them. The side effects will fade within a day."
Somehow, Ves didn't think the regular rules applied to him. His main source of discomfort came from his recently-diminished internal energy cycle. For some reason, something underground exerted an attraction on the energy. Like a magnet pulling metals from their place, Ves found that the unknown attraction field attempted to pull his internal energy away from his chest.
It hurt quite a lot.
He groaned a bit and tried to flex his body to cope with the changes. His energy cycle had become deformed, and it took quite a bit of effort for his body to get used to the new configuration.
"I'm okay." Ves waved away the officer when he approached to lend a hand. "I'm not a baseline human. My enhancements are going a little haywire from the energy fields."
"You should visit the medbay."
"It's okay. Let's get my meeting with the base commander out of the way first. I don't think she's patient enough to wait for me to recover."
An entire squad of armed guards took away the boxes that contained the undercharged energy cells. Meanwhile Ves received his own honor guard who firmly but briskly led him down to the underground city the Mech Corps had dug up with their advanced mining equipment.
The base was a veritable hive of activity. The Mech Corps constantly shifted men and mechs back and forth. Even though the overcharge phenomenon had turned every mech into a deathtrap, their pilots hadn't been deterred from doing their duty at all. Ves missed this sense of professionalism. The Whalers looked like toddlers in comparison.
The officer led Ves straight through a series of elevators before leading him to a command center which coordinated the Republic's presence on the Glowing Planet. Ves only got a tiny glimpse of the projection with the disposition of every force before they reached a guarded checkpoint before the office of the base commander.
Once Ves got scanned yet again, he was allowed entry, though he had to leave Lucky behind again.
"Remember, don't crawl off, Lucky. Stay."
After he made sure that Lucky understood the importance of staying in place, Ves walked through the hatch and took a seat in front of a simple alloy desk.
The base commander appeared to be a typical veteran from the Mech Corps. The woman looked hard and she didn't bother to apply any cosmetic procedures to work away the wrinkles she gained from reaching middle age. Her short black hair had been bound up in a ball, thereby exposing Ves to the base commander's piercing eyes.
"Mr. Larkinson. It's not every day I see one out of uniform. It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise, Colonel Ilos."
"When I heard you developed a special set of energy cells that claim to mitigate the overcharge phenomenon, I couldn't believe how fast you came up with them. The full weight of the Mech Corps has bent around the problem for weeks. We've put entire research teams on the issue and we've even contracted half-a-dozen different energy cell developers to present us with a better solution. You cannot imagine the amount of resources we've devoted to coming up with a solution."
Ves was very surprised to hear how much effort the Mech Corps put into their own research. "Has it paid off, then? Did you already develop a better solution?"
"Not... exactly." The Colonel admitted freely. "Efficiency has been low due to the relative lack of expertise among our own research teams. As for the developers, they're constrained by the fact that they have only heard about the problem second-hand. They claim that the overcharge phenomenon is such an impossible occurrence that they're having difficulty figuring out a direction for a viable solution."
It sounded like the energy cell developers might have other concerns in mind. Perhaps they planned on dragging their feet, thereby extracting more concessions from the Mech Corps.
Maybe they even signed a secret agreement with some other faction like the Vesia Kingdom's Mech Legion.
Ves was curious about the progress they had made so far. "What's the best solution your researchers have come up with?"
Colonel Ilos handed him a data pad that contained a classified document of a different energy cell design. Unlike the design formed by Ves, this one adopted the same conventional structure for the energy storage portion. The only difference was that the various conductors consisted of newly developed alloys formed out of exotics extracted from the ground.
"As you can see, our researchers suspect that one or more of the exotics underneath the red zone is responsible for the overcharge energy field. By incorporating these suspect exotics into our energy cells, they believe that they can block or interfere with this energy field."
"Looks like your research teams are onto something. It's pretty impressive to limit the overcharge to two-hundred percent of max capacity."
"That's not as impressive as reducing it to a hundred-and-thirty percent. Even if your energy cell design is under capacity, at least my pilots won't be having nightmares about piloting death traps anymore."
An energy cell that contained twice as much energy still risked being blown up. With the amount of charge such a cell normally stormed, the explosive discharge would have definitely been powerful enough to set off any other energy cells in the vicinity. What the Mech Corps had produced up to this point wouldn't be sufficient to negate the problem.
Only Ves had accomplished the goal that every research team assigned to the problem had been trying to figure out. While he didn't doubt that the energy cell developers would have come up with a similar solution, even a week's delay could lead to another disaster on the battlefield.
The next wave of pirates and fortune seekers were about to descend on the increasingly crowded Glowing Planet. Battle could not be avoided any longer. The sooner the Mech Corps switched their energy cells, the faster they regained their confidence.
"As you know, I didn't present you with these energy cells for free." Ves laid out his intentions. "Can you grant me a couple of favors?"
The colonel considered his request. "We can't promise you anything, but I'll do my best to satisfy your wishes."
So far, Colonel Ilos had been remarkably friendly to Ves. He chalked it up to offering up his energy cell design upfront without any delays. That action alone bought him a lot of good will.
Still, Ves sensed his family name helped a lot as well. Some people in the Mech Corps respected any Larkinson by their lineage alone, while others hated their family to the bones. Colonel Ilos probably fell into the former group, which happened to be very convenient at this moment.
"You see, I have a couple of things in mind, ma'am."
