I read novels
I really do
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Huh, would have expected an attack on their home planet not them, but I guess she is the only really valuable thing there.
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Simonbob
Really? You don't say.
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I read novels
I really do
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Yeah we know that, but do they? If I recall correctly most people just know there's an expert mech pilot with Bolt being treated as non-important/minor curiosity.
BismuthBorealis
Getting sticky.
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I mean for all we know maybe an attack on their home has *also* occured
Thomisannoyed
Versed in the lewd.
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Great chapter, The couple just scored a massive win on the reputation front, building an incomplete expert mech that can stalemate an actual Expert Mech no matter how good the individual pilots are is an incredible achievement in the realm of design, and a very Xiania punching above your own realm thing to do.
The fact that the Head Hunter is going to be using a Bolt design mech after this is great advertising as well.
Once the heart system is complete and it becomes a standard component on all mech, they will probably have enough money for children.
It's a very funny story choice that he's the richest guy on a planet that doesn't trade in currency.
Now he a journeyman and about to alter mech design on a fundamental level. so they were right to want to kill him.
The fact that the Head Hunter is going to be using a Bolt design mech after this is great advertising as well.
Once the heart system is complete and it becomes a standard component on all mech, they will probably have enough money for children.
It's a very funny story choice that he's the richest guy on a planet that doesn't trade in currency.
That was all before he had his debut on Serene temple. He became a very minor celebrity as a designer after that, and during the 300v1 man hunt Travis the senior designer acknowledged his abilities as an up and comer.
Now he a journeyman and about to alter mech design on a fundamental level. so they were right to want to kill him.
Last edited:
I013 - End Arc 2
New
lost star
Connoisseur.
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When Lilly and Bolt had gone away they'd set several precautions behind. Most of them had been relatively simple. Additional security, patrol routes, command responsibilities, and so on. The more complicated stuff had been just in cases. What they should do in the case of an attack was the most prominent one. It had been considered mostly inevitable.
Thus when a ship moved nearby in orbit and started dropping mechs, no one was surprised. They simply activated the shield and readied their forces. There weren't that many sadly. Despite the recruitment drive, it took time to build up forces. The planet's population was rather sparse after all. It was immediately apparent that their forces were heavily outnumbered, which wasn't surprising. All they had was young pilots and a few older veterans.
Mercenary companies varied in size. The smallest ones were usually considered local planetary forces and numbered from fifty to one hundred. The largest ones required specific local conditions, and were usually heavily backed by either spaceborn clans or nations. In less organized areas they were simply another form of government, and usually not a kind one. Those typically had thousands of mechs.
These raiders were one of the medium sized ones. A little bit more than five hundred mechs of all stripes, with their own personal fleet. About half of them were frontline mech and pilots. This was not uncommon. Low potentials usually had no future as mech pilots. Joining up with a merch company and getting slapped into a frontline mech was a way of making a living and getting something like glory.
Numbers wise, this meant the Wrench Rats were outnumbered roughly five to one. Since this was assaulting a fortified position, it meant that the numbers mattered less, but that sort of disparity was still insurmountable without significant advantages. They immediately implemented their defensive plans.
First the fog generators around the mountain were set to full blast. Custom made and freshly topped off, they'd last functionally indefinitely. The fog would not completely disrupt enemy sensors. Modern mechs were relatively immune to most standard weather conditions. It would still cause sensory ghosts and set the atmosphere for the other mechs. Forcing pilots to rely on sensors very typically threw them off.
Seeing this, the mercs first attempted to fly in with their fliers and support aircraft. The thought was to bypass the mist entirely and use the mountaintops as a staging ground. This turned out to be an incredibly poor idea.
The defenders had more than a few flaws. Their pilots weren't that good without Lilly, all of their mechs were made by Bolt, and they lacked numbers. None of that mattered in this particular scenario. Picking targets out of a sky was something that even a novice could do. Without ground support, the Shining Shrine Maidens had the luxury of taking their time targeting enemies. Since they were at their core laser mechs, they really had no trouble frying all the incoming flyers. Mech after mech dropped out of the sky until there was nothing left.
This was just a small blow against the mercenary company though. Their air assets were more a novelty than a dedicated focus. Called the Hanged Dukes, their specialty lay mostly in their ground forces. They were a very blunt hammer that was typically hired to smash wide or fortified areas. They specifically recruited a significant amount of chaff to allow them to take losses and press forward.
So it was fairly obvious what the next step was. The frontline mechs were sent in. They came in batches and walked through the mist with obvious reluctance. These things had horrible sensors and even less in the way of defenses so it was safe to say they'd die in droves.
The Wrench Rats sicced their youngest pilots on them in return. The green recruits had the energy and needed the experience. This had mixed results. The best thing one could say about the battle was that very few of them died. Personal training from Lilly was no substitute for experience in the field. It took years to be considered good as a pilot. Some of these young pilots had only a year of training, if that.
It has to be said that this had not been done out of cruelty on the defenders side. All of the Wrench Rat pilots were in good mechs. Zombie and Cerberus might not have been high quality modern mechs, but they were a significant step up from frontline mechs. Sending them out to fight the attackers was both the kindest way of bloodying them they had and their best way of answering the enemy's tactics. Not that those pilots really knew that. They were high on fever and low on sense.
One young pilot was learning this firsthand. His nickname was Pup. His real name was First Son. He was the first son of a group of rats called Farmer Rats. They'd been one of the first big groups to move to the mountain and served as one of the cornerstones of food production. He'd been found to have potential and joined up rather than much about in the internal greenhouses.
Pup was green. Greener than green really. His first time piloting had been when he'd joined up, and he'd promptly been put into Cerberus due to their lack of anything resembling training mechs. He actually had decent potential, but it again took years to get really good. The dog mech had enough compensation in the design that he could pilot it without stumbling and hurting himself or allies.
Not that he wasn't giving the latter a good try. "Firing again!" The pilot called out in his comms as he let loose another volley of fire missiles. (They'd decided to give the newbies simple napalm missiles rather than the more expensive types, for rather obvious reasons.)
The missiles arched into the mist and Pup growled as they missed. He shifted back a few steps and then yelped in alarm as the frontline mechs he'd targeted started to come into actual view. Several fired machine guns at him and turned away in a mild panic. He jumped through the air several times what he felt like a proper evasive pattern and then turned around again. Something gave an alert, but he couldn't tell what.
"Command, what should I do?! There's a lot of mechs here!" Pup asked before firing yet again. Most of the missiles splashed harmlessly against the ground. One or two might have hit something.
"Damnit Pup, clear command comms!" A Zombie mech trundled into view. The pursuing frontlines shot into his forward facing arm and the mech jerked with each strike. "Fall back to the mountain."
"But we have to defend our home!" The pilot protested as he switched channels randomly.
"Private channel. You're on the open one now. Take a breath and fire." The zombie shifted again to keep his armored side to the mechs trying to flank him. "They can barely see you. You have good armor and it's still intact. Breath, focus, fire."
Pup huffed and puffed, but then managed to fire off a few more shots. These missiles arched through the air and actually hit, not that he could see it visually. The sensors said it did, so it did!
"Good, better. Now we're doing something a controlled fallback." The veteran pilot walked him through it. "You know how to play dead?"
"Is that a dog joke? Now!?" The Cerberus pilot asked incredulously.
"Hah! No. Can't say we're the best at anything, but I can say we know how ta look defeated. Limp a bit and run when they come into view. If you get really hit fall over and wait." The zombie said as they began to move back. "If they come up blast em. Otherwise wait till they leave. We need ta sell that we're being pressed."
Pup wasn't sure what he meant by limp a bit, but he gave it a good try as they retreated. He still fired when he spotted something. His companion didn't say anything about it. He actually encouraged it a few times and walked him through the process each time. They made steady progress through the mud and mist. At least he assumed so. Pup couldn't really tell where they were going even with the automated map.
"I hate this." Pup didn't whine and he'd hurt anyone that would say otherwise. "This is my home. I like it here. I hate them!"
"Can't say I feel the same. Lost more homes than I could count. Fights like this are more home than anything else." The pilot in the Zombie said as he limped along, looking like he was on his last legs. "That said, this ain't a fight where we're dead men walking. Just need em ta commit. You know how that goes?"
"No." Pup responded.
By this point they were pretty close to the mountain. Pup could see a few others walking in. Most of the zombies looked horribly beat up. The others were damaged but not ruined. The makeup was mostly Cerberus and Zombies though, none of the Berserkers and very few Drowned Men.
"Well I can say it now that we're back. See how the Zombies look? Bit funny, but our wonderkid made them great for this sorta thing. They always look beat up, so if ya parade them around in plain sight the enemy thinks they got us on the ropes. We want their big forces in nice and close." The veteran said.
Pup thought he got it. "For the Maidens to kill them then?" He asked.
"Somewhat. They'll certainly put in work. But the big thing is that." The zombie gestured to the air as they emerged from the mist.
Above them small meteors started to become apparent in the distance. Shuttles dropping in from orbit. Pup stared at them in confusion.
"Are they getting reinforcements?" He asked with growing alarm.
"Nah. See, mercs are mercs. They want money. If people are gonna attack us with em, why wouldn't we hire some ta attack back?" The veteran pilot asked with a bark of dark laughter. "Ya get it now Pup?"
A fierce sort of fire burned in the young pilot then. He stared at the meteors and then at the mist. "I get it. We're going to let the mechs back stab em."
"Oh yeah. Might be Rats, but we know Rat traps, hah!"
This wasn't the end of the siege. Or the last sortie that Pup would deploy in. Experienced Mercs didn't go down or let go of their targets if there was a potential for profit. There ended up being more than a few battles before they finally withdrew, sans more than a few mechs. The Wrench Rats actually ended up making a very minor profit due to the salvage and cost savings of simply offering repairs as part of the contracts.
By the time Lilly and Bolt finished, the skies were clear, their wallets were slightly more full, and they'd proved that even without her they could defend themselves. This alone meant a lot. When combined with her messages of success, it meant everything.
----
End Arc 2
Thus when a ship moved nearby in orbit and started dropping mechs, no one was surprised. They simply activated the shield and readied their forces. There weren't that many sadly. Despite the recruitment drive, it took time to build up forces. The planet's population was rather sparse after all. It was immediately apparent that their forces were heavily outnumbered, which wasn't surprising. All they had was young pilots and a few older veterans.
Mercenary companies varied in size. The smallest ones were usually considered local planetary forces and numbered from fifty to one hundred. The largest ones required specific local conditions, and were usually heavily backed by either spaceborn clans or nations. In less organized areas they were simply another form of government, and usually not a kind one. Those typically had thousands of mechs.
These raiders were one of the medium sized ones. A little bit more than five hundred mechs of all stripes, with their own personal fleet. About half of them were frontline mech and pilots. This was not uncommon. Low potentials usually had no future as mech pilots. Joining up with a merch company and getting slapped into a frontline mech was a way of making a living and getting something like glory.
Numbers wise, this meant the Wrench Rats were outnumbered roughly five to one. Since this was assaulting a fortified position, it meant that the numbers mattered less, but that sort of disparity was still insurmountable without significant advantages. They immediately implemented their defensive plans.
First the fog generators around the mountain were set to full blast. Custom made and freshly topped off, they'd last functionally indefinitely. The fog would not completely disrupt enemy sensors. Modern mechs were relatively immune to most standard weather conditions. It would still cause sensory ghosts and set the atmosphere for the other mechs. Forcing pilots to rely on sensors very typically threw them off.
Seeing this, the mercs first attempted to fly in with their fliers and support aircraft. The thought was to bypass the mist entirely and use the mountaintops as a staging ground. This turned out to be an incredibly poor idea.
The defenders had more than a few flaws. Their pilots weren't that good without Lilly, all of their mechs were made by Bolt, and they lacked numbers. None of that mattered in this particular scenario. Picking targets out of a sky was something that even a novice could do. Without ground support, the Shining Shrine Maidens had the luxury of taking their time targeting enemies. Since they were at their core laser mechs, they really had no trouble frying all the incoming flyers. Mech after mech dropped out of the sky until there was nothing left.
This was just a small blow against the mercenary company though. Their air assets were more a novelty than a dedicated focus. Called the Hanged Dukes, their specialty lay mostly in their ground forces. They were a very blunt hammer that was typically hired to smash wide or fortified areas. They specifically recruited a significant amount of chaff to allow them to take losses and press forward.
So it was fairly obvious what the next step was. The frontline mechs were sent in. They came in batches and walked through the mist with obvious reluctance. These things had horrible sensors and even less in the way of defenses so it was safe to say they'd die in droves.
The Wrench Rats sicced their youngest pilots on them in return. The green recruits had the energy and needed the experience. This had mixed results. The best thing one could say about the battle was that very few of them died. Personal training from Lilly was no substitute for experience in the field. It took years to be considered good as a pilot. Some of these young pilots had only a year of training, if that.
It has to be said that this had not been done out of cruelty on the defenders side. All of the Wrench Rat pilots were in good mechs. Zombie and Cerberus might not have been high quality modern mechs, but they were a significant step up from frontline mechs. Sending them out to fight the attackers was both the kindest way of bloodying them they had and their best way of answering the enemy's tactics. Not that those pilots really knew that. They were high on fever and low on sense.
One young pilot was learning this firsthand. His nickname was Pup. His real name was First Son. He was the first son of a group of rats called Farmer Rats. They'd been one of the first big groups to move to the mountain and served as one of the cornerstones of food production. He'd been found to have potential and joined up rather than much about in the internal greenhouses.
Pup was green. Greener than green really. His first time piloting had been when he'd joined up, and he'd promptly been put into Cerberus due to their lack of anything resembling training mechs. He actually had decent potential, but it again took years to get really good. The dog mech had enough compensation in the design that he could pilot it without stumbling and hurting himself or allies.
Not that he wasn't giving the latter a good try. "Firing again!" The pilot called out in his comms as he let loose another volley of fire missiles. (They'd decided to give the newbies simple napalm missiles rather than the more expensive types, for rather obvious reasons.)
The missiles arched into the mist and Pup growled as they missed. He shifted back a few steps and then yelped in alarm as the frontline mechs he'd targeted started to come into actual view. Several fired machine guns at him and turned away in a mild panic. He jumped through the air several times what he felt like a proper evasive pattern and then turned around again. Something gave an alert, but he couldn't tell what.
"Command, what should I do?! There's a lot of mechs here!" Pup asked before firing yet again. Most of the missiles splashed harmlessly against the ground. One or two might have hit something.
"Damnit Pup, clear command comms!" A Zombie mech trundled into view. The pursuing frontlines shot into his forward facing arm and the mech jerked with each strike. "Fall back to the mountain."
"But we have to defend our home!" The pilot protested as he switched channels randomly.
"Private channel. You're on the open one now. Take a breath and fire." The zombie shifted again to keep his armored side to the mechs trying to flank him. "They can barely see you. You have good armor and it's still intact. Breath, focus, fire."
Pup huffed and puffed, but then managed to fire off a few more shots. These missiles arched through the air and actually hit, not that he could see it visually. The sensors said it did, so it did!
"Good, better. Now we're doing something a controlled fallback." The veteran pilot walked him through it. "You know how to play dead?"
"Is that a dog joke? Now!?" The Cerberus pilot asked incredulously.
"Hah! No. Can't say we're the best at anything, but I can say we know how ta look defeated. Limp a bit and run when they come into view. If you get really hit fall over and wait." The zombie said as they began to move back. "If they come up blast em. Otherwise wait till they leave. We need ta sell that we're being pressed."
Pup wasn't sure what he meant by limp a bit, but he gave it a good try as they retreated. He still fired when he spotted something. His companion didn't say anything about it. He actually encouraged it a few times and walked him through the process each time. They made steady progress through the mud and mist. At least he assumed so. Pup couldn't really tell where they were going even with the automated map.
"I hate this." Pup didn't whine and he'd hurt anyone that would say otherwise. "This is my home. I like it here. I hate them!"
"Can't say I feel the same. Lost more homes than I could count. Fights like this are more home than anything else." The pilot in the Zombie said as he limped along, looking like he was on his last legs. "That said, this ain't a fight where we're dead men walking. Just need em ta commit. You know how that goes?"
"No." Pup responded.
By this point they were pretty close to the mountain. Pup could see a few others walking in. Most of the zombies looked horribly beat up. The others were damaged but not ruined. The makeup was mostly Cerberus and Zombies though, none of the Berserkers and very few Drowned Men.
"Well I can say it now that we're back. See how the Zombies look? Bit funny, but our wonderkid made them great for this sorta thing. They always look beat up, so if ya parade them around in plain sight the enemy thinks they got us on the ropes. We want their big forces in nice and close." The veteran said.
Pup thought he got it. "For the Maidens to kill them then?" He asked.
"Somewhat. They'll certainly put in work. But the big thing is that." The zombie gestured to the air as they emerged from the mist.
Above them small meteors started to become apparent in the distance. Shuttles dropping in from orbit. Pup stared at them in confusion.
"Are they getting reinforcements?" He asked with growing alarm.
"Nah. See, mercs are mercs. They want money. If people are gonna attack us with em, why wouldn't we hire some ta attack back?" The veteran pilot asked with a bark of dark laughter. "Ya get it now Pup?"
A fierce sort of fire burned in the young pilot then. He stared at the meteors and then at the mist. "I get it. We're going to let the mechs back stab em."
"Oh yeah. Might be Rats, but we know Rat traps, hah!"
This wasn't the end of the siege. Or the last sortie that Pup would deploy in. Experienced Mercs didn't go down or let go of their targets if there was a potential for profit. There ended up being more than a few battles before they finally withdrew, sans more than a few mechs. The Wrench Rats actually ended up making a very minor profit due to the salvage and cost savings of simply offering repairs as part of the contracts.
By the time Lilly and Bolt finished, the skies were clear, their wallets were slightly more full, and they'd proved that even without her they could defend themselves. This alone meant a lot. When combined with her messages of success, it meant everything.
----
End Arc 2
The following are ratings if the system were to rate the designs. These are relative to others in the same tech level to make it easier on me.
Variant name: Cerberus
Base model: Cerberus
Weight Classification: Medium
Recommended Role: Rifleman / Sentry / Hunter
Armor: B-
Carrying Capacity: B
Aesthetics: B
Endurance: C
Energy Efficiency: B
Flexibility: B
Firepower: B (Variable based on loadout.)
Integrity: B
Mobility: C
Spotting: A
X-Factor: C+
Overall Evaluation: A surprisingly flexible sensory mech. The X-Factor aligned with the configuration makes it extremely capable of spotting and honing in on enemies. The ability to shift the missile loadout also allows it to adjust to most circumstances.
The form factor is both a boon and hinderance. The X-factor combined with the design makes the sensory capabilities far easier to use than other sensor mechs, but it also reduces the number of pilots capable of handling the mech. This makes it less commercially viable than a humanoid model with the same capabilities would have.
Variant name: Scavenging Ghoul
Base model: Ghoul
Weight Classification: Light
Recommended Role: Deep Range Skirmisher
Armor: C
Carrying Capacity: C
Aesthetics: A
Endurance: A+
Energy Efficiency: B
Flexibility: D
Firepower: C
Integrity: B+
Mobility: B+
Spotting: B+
X-Factor: B
Overall Evaluation: A niche and deadly skirmisher designed to hide in the back lines of enemy forces and feed off their supply lines. The use of nanomachines and other techniques allows it to operate for an indefinite amount of time without support or reinforcements. This has increased the cost significantly, which has reduced the commercial success. The nanomachine core used to give the mech its long-lived operational time is expensive, even using a reduced cost down variation.
The X-Factor combined with the design will result in unpredictable effects. Assuming it follows the path of Dowry, these mechs have the potential to evolve themselves to better suit their pilots and circumstances. This is unlikely as it would require the mech to age or the pilot to ascend. If the mechs are used as intended, they will have on average the lifespan of a single year. Fighting behind enemy lines is extremely risky and harsh.
As an additional effect, the x-factor combined with the appearance provoke a terrorizing effect when the mech is in action. This has intense effects on enemy morale when appropriately used.
Variant name: Dowry V2
Base model: Ghoul
Weight Classification: Light
Recommended Role: Expert Mech, Deep Range Skirmisher
Armor: C
Carrying Capacity: C
Aesthetics: A
Endurance: A+
Energy Efficiency: B
Flexibility: D
Firepower: C-
Integrity: A
Mobility: A
Spotting: B
X-Factor: B+
Overall Evaluation: An expert skirmisher with a focus on long operational time. The appearance and movement create an extreme terrorizing effect upon those with lesser will. This variant is capable of refueling, refining, and growing from fallen enemies. Felling and eating expert enemies will enhance this effect. Non-experts will provide negligible improvement gains.
The resonance effect installed upon this mech allows it to 'digest' any consumed mechs near instantly. It will then use that material to repair and upgrade itself within seconds. The X-factor reinforces this effect and will give the mech the ability to upgrade itself to second rate over time, provided the proper materials are harvested.
Variant name: Morning Star V1
Base model: Morning Star
Weight Classification: Medium
Recommended Role: Expert Mech, Striker
Armor: A-
Carrying Capacity: C
Aesthetics: A+
Endurance: B (A+ in crowds)
Energy Efficiency: A-
Flexibility: B-
Firepower: C (B- in crowds)
Integrity: A-
Mobility: C
Spotting: D
X-Factor: A-
Overall Evaluation: A Striker only hindered by it's relatively weak primary weapon. Based off a sinful angel, this mech excels in wide area combat. As a defensive mech it has few matches. It is also incomplete and lacks typical resonance materials. Once that is added, presumably to the primary weapon, it will be unmatched by comparable experts when around multiple mechs.
The aura, or 'glow' is tied to the installed Greed system. When active it draws in the power from all electrical sources designated as enemies in a wide area. When not active the mech merely demands admiration and pampering, as befits a sinful angel.
Variant name: Cerberus
Base model: Cerberus
Weight Classification: Medium
Recommended Role: Rifleman / Sentry / Hunter
Armor: B-
Carrying Capacity: B
Aesthetics: B
Endurance: C
Energy Efficiency: B
Flexibility: B
Firepower: B (Variable based on loadout.)
Integrity: B
Mobility: C
Spotting: A
X-Factor: C+
Overall Evaluation: A surprisingly flexible sensory mech. The X-Factor aligned with the configuration makes it extremely capable of spotting and honing in on enemies. The ability to shift the missile loadout also allows it to adjust to most circumstances.
The form factor is both a boon and hinderance. The X-factor combined with the design makes the sensory capabilities far easier to use than other sensor mechs, but it also reduces the number of pilots capable of handling the mech. This makes it less commercially viable than a humanoid model with the same capabilities would have.
Variant name: Scavenging Ghoul
Base model: Ghoul
Weight Classification: Light
Recommended Role: Deep Range Skirmisher
Armor: C
Carrying Capacity: C
Aesthetics: A
Endurance: A+
Energy Efficiency: B
Flexibility: D
Firepower: C
Integrity: B+
Mobility: B+
Spotting: B+
X-Factor: B
Overall Evaluation: A niche and deadly skirmisher designed to hide in the back lines of enemy forces and feed off their supply lines. The use of nanomachines and other techniques allows it to operate for an indefinite amount of time without support or reinforcements. This has increased the cost significantly, which has reduced the commercial success. The nanomachine core used to give the mech its long-lived operational time is expensive, even using a reduced cost down variation.
The X-Factor combined with the design will result in unpredictable effects. Assuming it follows the path of Dowry, these mechs have the potential to evolve themselves to better suit their pilots and circumstances. This is unlikely as it would require the mech to age or the pilot to ascend. If the mechs are used as intended, they will have on average the lifespan of a single year. Fighting behind enemy lines is extremely risky and harsh.
As an additional effect, the x-factor combined with the appearance provoke a terrorizing effect when the mech is in action. This has intense effects on enemy morale when appropriately used.
Variant name: Dowry V2
Base model: Ghoul
Weight Classification: Light
Recommended Role: Expert Mech, Deep Range Skirmisher
Armor: C
Carrying Capacity: C
Aesthetics: A
Endurance: A+
Energy Efficiency: B
Flexibility: D
Firepower: C-
Integrity: A
Mobility: A
Spotting: B
X-Factor: B+
Overall Evaluation: An expert skirmisher with a focus on long operational time. The appearance and movement create an extreme terrorizing effect upon those with lesser will. This variant is capable of refueling, refining, and growing from fallen enemies. Felling and eating expert enemies will enhance this effect. Non-experts will provide negligible improvement gains.
The resonance effect installed upon this mech allows it to 'digest' any consumed mechs near instantly. It will then use that material to repair and upgrade itself within seconds. The X-factor reinforces this effect and will give the mech the ability to upgrade itself to second rate over time, provided the proper materials are harvested.
Variant name: Morning Star V1
Base model: Morning Star
Weight Classification: Medium
Recommended Role: Expert Mech, Striker
Armor: A-
Carrying Capacity: C
Aesthetics: A+
Endurance: B (A+ in crowds)
Energy Efficiency: A-
Flexibility: B-
Firepower: C (B- in crowds)
Integrity: A-
Mobility: C
Spotting: D
X-Factor: A-
Overall Evaluation: A Striker only hindered by it's relatively weak primary weapon. Based off a sinful angel, this mech excels in wide area combat. As a defensive mech it has few matches. It is also incomplete and lacks typical resonance materials. Once that is added, presumably to the primary weapon, it will be unmatched by comparable experts when around multiple mechs.
The aura, or 'glow' is tied to the installed Greed system. When active it draws in the power from all electrical sources designated as enemies in a wide area. When not active the mech merely demands admiration and pampering, as befits a sinful angel.
Sceptic
Critical Irrationalist
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muck about
I read novels
I really do
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Ah nice, so both
lurkingkraken
Versed in the lewd.
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That's not what it usually means to be a hanger queen, but it's not like she doesn't deserve it.
M074
New
lost star
Connoisseur.
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FTL communicators were expensive, expensive things depending on what you wanted. They were also rather necessary in this day and age. Getting two portable military grade relays had cost a significant portion of their budget for the expedition. It had also been rather necessary. Fortunately they were reusable, and one of the few technologies that was available to everyone who was willing to pay. Both the CFA and the MTA had made it possible for people talk to anyone in the galaxy if they had the appropriate, and widely proliferated technology. They were also relatively idiot proof. You just had to set one down and press a button, then your comms would connect. (More expensive comms had FTL communication inbuilt and could forgo this entire mess.)
Naturally Bolt and his people couldn't get this done without complications. What should have happened was that once they signaled their ride, they would have been picked up in a day or so. They'd made arrangements with one of the shipper spaceborne clans and they'd been on standby in the area.
What instead happened was Bolt's comm dinged a few minutes after the FTL transmitter. The young man stared at it with dread and then picked it up. A few automated messages had already been exchanged. Most of them were relieving and normal. His family had endured the predicted attack. He had a few sales updates. A few updates from his friends on far off planets. Standard stuff that happened when your comm was off for awhile. He was especially relieved about the update on his family.
One message was less than welcome.
'You will need to report to the MTA headquarters as soon as possible.' The note was unsigned. It didn't need to be. 'An automated ship will be transporting you to an MTA representative who is invested in your success. Have this comm recycled and remove all your equipment before boarding. There are several things that need to be sanitized and adjusted to assure your safety. The study materials on the shuttle will cover what you need to know in the immediate future. Expect a package once you reach the headquarters. Do not speak of me until you get it.'
Bolt swallowed. The message deleted itself after he read it. Something was up again. He sent Lilly a message and tightened his cold weather gear around himself before removing everything he could and requesting that his comm be recycled. Getting out into the cold, he looked up into the sky and was unsurprised to see a very prominent and advanced ship dropping down from space.
"I hate this." Lilly murmured through the cold weather masks as she gave him a hug. "We just got a big win and now it's almost like we're being punished."
"Wish I could assure you more than what the message said." Bolt replied as he returned the hug and then boarded the ship.
He didn't know much about first rate technology. He could say that this was probably up there. He was a bit afraid to touch anything. He had to force himself to move to the one chair inside the place and take a seat. A screen immediately appeared in front of him.
"What?" He said out loud in sheer confusion as he read it.
Journeyman, What it Means. How to Use Alien Technology. Those were the titles of the articles he had in front of him. Bolt skimmed through them quickly. The first was a briefing on how to introduce himself as a Journeyman, what the expectations were, and more. It was in essence an etiquette manual. Which, well was good for him, but seemed strange that it had been placed right in front of him right now. He was obviously missing something. The second was more obvious. It had the official stances of the MTA on alien technology.
Something was happening in the background, and he needed to toe the official line Bolt concluded after a moment. He had to assume that his hidden master was arranging something and and instruction like this was most efficient way he had of briefing him about things. A review of the information provided indicated that he had to give a general explanation of his philosophy. There were also explicit instructions as to appropriate terminology. These were how-to guide for idiots, which probably would have been insulting in another circumstance. He wasn't stupid to think that here. He was likely being monitored extensively now, and this hidden master of his did not do things for no reason.
The young man kept silent, he read what he could and formulated his response to the question of what his design philosophy was. What was it, simplified and sanitized? He couldn't just call it scavenging. That was getting parts. It was not what he did when he made mechs. He didn't scavenge a new mech.
Consumption was probably the closest single word for what he did. That was not going to work. Bolt could imagine trying to tell someone that was his design philosophy! It be a fantastic icebreaker. 'Oh hello, my name is Bolt and my specialty is consumption, and why are you running away from me?'
As silly as it was, this was actually pretty important. According to the documentation, this was essentially both how the MTA categorized you and how other designers figured out if they could work together. If Bolt flubbed this he'd be condemning himself to working alone for the rest of his life, or could make the MTA consider him an issue in some way. As he though more on it, Bolt figured he got one reason for the abrupt summons. He was being shielded in some way. At least that was his hope.
It was best to simplify this. Walk through the steps. What did Bolt do to design a mech? Not the mindset. The mechanics behind it.
He took used parts and repurposed them.
He took concepts and remade them to fit his desires better.
He deliberately sacrificed performance in one area to enhance another.
Could he call it conversion? That wasn't the best description, but it was a good, all encompassing word. Recycling, Conversion, and Unification of Machine Components. There. That felt nice and vaguely descriptive enough to be something he could put on paperwork.
Naturally that wasn't all of his design process. Lilly had seen his 'power' as a snake eating it's tail. In truth after thinking about it, Bolt considered his style endless refinement. He took all he could and used it to make something, then sharpened it and remade it again and again. The Ouroboros. Scavenging, stealing, using whatever he could to get just a bit more. Building upon it all. The dead deserved their respect and he'd do that by refining their work and ideals into something better. He took lessons from ruins and the word that had been done before.
Thankfully it was very acceptable to not speak of everything in your design philosophy. The instructions were very clear that the MTA wanted a nice succinct summary for their records. They might request clarification, but they liked things relatively simple. (There were almost passages with an almost pleading tone to that effect.) Bolt was going to give them just that.
He spent most of the trip working and reworking his explanation in his head as well as adjusting his terminology to better fit what the official MTA stance was. Thankfully he seemed to be speeding along. He had no idea how fast this little thing was, but it probably was up there. An MTA automated shuttle like this had to have some benefit aside from the automation that made it useful. Bolt hoped he'd read the situation well enough. He also rather wished he been able to take a change of clothing and a suitcase, because the cold weather gear was not meant for indoor temperatures. He'd stripped down to his underclothing to keep from dying from the heat after the first day had passed.
That turned out to be a minor mistake, because he'd had no warning when he was teleported.
"Hello and wel-" The woman's voice cut off as she saw him.
Bolt stared at her and sighed before covering his face. "Of course." He muttered.
"Is there a reason you're almost naked?" The woman who teleported him asked with a head tilt.
The person in front of him was someone who was best described as pink. Pink clothing, pink hair, and pink eyes. She also had a rather voluptuous figure, unnaturally so. An artificial look that would not have been out of place on a sex worker if one wanted to be insulting about it. Bolt didn't. At the higher levels of technology a person's appearance was a choice. This woman had very likely chosen to look this way.
"I was on a very cold planet before I boarded and didn't bring a change of clothes." The young man said calmly as he struggled not to show any embarrassment. "You wouldn't happen to have something else would you? I could get back into that, but I'd die of the heat in a few minutes." He gestured to the neatly folded and thick pile of clothing next to him.
The words seemed to delight the woman. "Oh, easy!" She tapped her hands together and a second later a set of clothing was in her hands. "Here you go! It's not fancy, but you'll look good in them!"
Mildly surprised at how easy and painless the was turning out to be, Bolt grabbed the stuff and started to pull it on. "Didn't even notice I landed."
"Yeah, that model is nice, but not really suited for sightseeing or passenger comfort. It's fast. That's it. My personal ship, which you are on, is far better." The woman noted with a chipper grin. "Welcome by the way! You may call me Senior Bubbles. I'll be your personal liaison for now and in the future."
"Liason?" Bolt paused a moment before continuing to dress himself. He couldn't say he liked the style or color of the clothes, but he was not going to complain about it. "Could I get an explanation of that and what this is about? It was all very abrubt."
"Of course! When someone advances to journeyman the MTA likes to offer a point of contact for them! It varies depending on the person, the circumstances, and even their requests!" Bubbles explained and very obviously didn't stop watching Bolt. "In this case you helped me advance, so I put in a request and got it. You're both young and have potential, which helped significantly."
That actually made Bolt stop moving completely. "I'm sorry, but I helped you advance? How?!" He asked incredulously. This was someone with direct MTA backing. The ship alone was worth more than everything he'd built put together and doubled.
"It is not as large a deal as you might think. You get inspiration from the strangest places sometimes. That's why Journeymen are encouraged to travel. I was at the cusp and my automated feeds brought up your engine component. It gave me an idea! My specialty is energy generation and distribution." The senior explained while giving a shrug and twirling her hair. "We can talk more about that later if you like, but our schedule is going to be a bit packed. I need to review a lot of material while we travel to our destination. We're going to the Halcyon Citadel to get you officially registered as a Journeyman. The trip time will take a week or so and then I can drop you off back home in another week."
"That's it?" Bolt asked with mild confusion.
"Sounds pretty innocent right? Why are we rushing and why am I personally involved then right? There's reasons. You haven't been naughty, but well... You tripped a few alerts somewhere." The words from Bubbles weren't alarming until Bolt realized what they implied. Worst was the fact that the woman's expression hadn't changed from that slightly vapid and amused expression she'd led with. "You probably got the idea from the materials you had in the shuttle. A lot of the details from you and your teams comms were uploaded to our networks and it got someone's attention."
The young man nodded slowly. "So I did something that could piss some people off but not the MTA as a whole?" He reasoned out.
"Got it! Like you're fine. It's just, there's degrees of fine. The MTA is an organization, and it has people who have very specific and strident opinions." Bubbles paused and actually winced slightly as she seemed to realize something and began to rattle off something that felt rather rote. "I am going to specifically say that you have not done anything the MTA will not approve of. I am also going to state that I'm not trying to cover things up, or bribe you, or request a bribe, or anything else that would be considered inappropriate." She rolled her eyes and stared at the ceiling as she continued. "So if ANYONE looks at the official record they'll know that. I am offering someone with potential some expedited and discounted services to encourage a good relationship with the MTA as a whole.
It said something about the entire mess that he wanted this over and done with more than he wanted further clarification. Bubbles wasn't being threatening, but Bolt knew that things had gotten complicated. He almost wished the Hidden Master had kept being blunt instead of this.
"So I'm going to assume that we're officially monitored." The young man noted dryly after a beat.
"Down to our genetic profile." Bubbles confirmed with a slightly tired look. "You get used to it. The info isn't pulled unless someone with the appropriate authorization asks for it. The MTA doesn't usually have new journeymen escorted like this. Someone pulled some strings, and that's going to be extremely obvious. It's also doesn't matter. Everything is within MTA rules. You legitimately just found something that improves your designs and my presence simply prevents random accusations. Very technically you're even getting paid for the inconvenience by expediting this trip and because I'll be revising Morning Star with you on the way back."
For a moment Bolt wondered if should object. Then he realized that she could address the resonant issue and that this was an MTA trained senior offering. "I'm assuming we're improving it?"
"Bolt, honey, darling, that mech might be Third Rate, but she's absolutely gorgeous. I want to get my hands all over her." The MTA designer replied in such a salacious tone that the young man gave a startled flinch. "Hah! If that wasn't clear yes we are. You'll be getting a free MTA consultation and work done to get her to the peak within your means. I'm pretty sure our specialties are very compatible, so this is actually a benefit for me too." The woman paused and winced again. "And I'm going to go ahead and give you access to our communications area right now so that we can prevent any misunderstandings. Please feel free to talk with your wife and family and explain the situation. I probably should have said that earlier. Their comms will have certain details blanked out and they'll get an official briefing on what to say. You'll get it too. Think of this more as us preventing trouble rather than there being trouble."
The designer had to admit he was feeling more than a little exhausted by this point.
Naturally Bolt and his people couldn't get this done without complications. What should have happened was that once they signaled their ride, they would have been picked up in a day or so. They'd made arrangements with one of the shipper spaceborne clans and they'd been on standby in the area.
What instead happened was Bolt's comm dinged a few minutes after the FTL transmitter. The young man stared at it with dread and then picked it up. A few automated messages had already been exchanged. Most of them were relieving and normal. His family had endured the predicted attack. He had a few sales updates. A few updates from his friends on far off planets. Standard stuff that happened when your comm was off for awhile. He was especially relieved about the update on his family.
One message was less than welcome.
'You will need to report to the MTA headquarters as soon as possible.' The note was unsigned. It didn't need to be. 'An automated ship will be transporting you to an MTA representative who is invested in your success. Have this comm recycled and remove all your equipment before boarding. There are several things that need to be sanitized and adjusted to assure your safety. The study materials on the shuttle will cover what you need to know in the immediate future. Expect a package once you reach the headquarters. Do not speak of me until you get it.'
Bolt swallowed. The message deleted itself after he read it. Something was up again. He sent Lilly a message and tightened his cold weather gear around himself before removing everything he could and requesting that his comm be recycled. Getting out into the cold, he looked up into the sky and was unsurprised to see a very prominent and advanced ship dropping down from space.
"I hate this." Lilly murmured through the cold weather masks as she gave him a hug. "We just got a big win and now it's almost like we're being punished."
"Wish I could assure you more than what the message said." Bolt replied as he returned the hug and then boarded the ship.
He didn't know much about first rate technology. He could say that this was probably up there. He was a bit afraid to touch anything. He had to force himself to move to the one chair inside the place and take a seat. A screen immediately appeared in front of him.
"What?" He said out loud in sheer confusion as he read it.
Journeyman, What it Means. How to Use Alien Technology. Those were the titles of the articles he had in front of him. Bolt skimmed through them quickly. The first was a briefing on how to introduce himself as a Journeyman, what the expectations were, and more. It was in essence an etiquette manual. Which, well was good for him, but seemed strange that it had been placed right in front of him right now. He was obviously missing something. The second was more obvious. It had the official stances of the MTA on alien technology.
Something was happening in the background, and he needed to toe the official line Bolt concluded after a moment. He had to assume that his hidden master was arranging something and and instruction like this was most efficient way he had of briefing him about things. A review of the information provided indicated that he had to give a general explanation of his philosophy. There were also explicit instructions as to appropriate terminology. These were how-to guide for idiots, which probably would have been insulting in another circumstance. He wasn't stupid to think that here. He was likely being monitored extensively now, and this hidden master of his did not do things for no reason.
The young man kept silent, he read what he could and formulated his response to the question of what his design philosophy was. What was it, simplified and sanitized? He couldn't just call it scavenging. That was getting parts. It was not what he did when he made mechs. He didn't scavenge a new mech.
Consumption was probably the closest single word for what he did. That was not going to work. Bolt could imagine trying to tell someone that was his design philosophy! It be a fantastic icebreaker. 'Oh hello, my name is Bolt and my specialty is consumption, and why are you running away from me?'
As silly as it was, this was actually pretty important. According to the documentation, this was essentially both how the MTA categorized you and how other designers figured out if they could work together. If Bolt flubbed this he'd be condemning himself to working alone for the rest of his life, or could make the MTA consider him an issue in some way. As he though more on it, Bolt figured he got one reason for the abrupt summons. He was being shielded in some way. At least that was his hope.
It was best to simplify this. Walk through the steps. What did Bolt do to design a mech? Not the mindset. The mechanics behind it.
He took used parts and repurposed them.
He took concepts and remade them to fit his desires better.
He deliberately sacrificed performance in one area to enhance another.
Could he call it conversion? That wasn't the best description, but it was a good, all encompassing word. Recycling, Conversion, and Unification of Machine Components. There. That felt nice and vaguely descriptive enough to be something he could put on paperwork.
Naturally that wasn't all of his design process. Lilly had seen his 'power' as a snake eating it's tail. In truth after thinking about it, Bolt considered his style endless refinement. He took all he could and used it to make something, then sharpened it and remade it again and again. The Ouroboros. Scavenging, stealing, using whatever he could to get just a bit more. Building upon it all. The dead deserved their respect and he'd do that by refining their work and ideals into something better. He took lessons from ruins and the word that had been done before.
Thankfully it was very acceptable to not speak of everything in your design philosophy. The instructions were very clear that the MTA wanted a nice succinct summary for their records. They might request clarification, but they liked things relatively simple. (There were almost passages with an almost pleading tone to that effect.) Bolt was going to give them just that.
He spent most of the trip working and reworking his explanation in his head as well as adjusting his terminology to better fit what the official MTA stance was. Thankfully he seemed to be speeding along. He had no idea how fast this little thing was, but it probably was up there. An MTA automated shuttle like this had to have some benefit aside from the automation that made it useful. Bolt hoped he'd read the situation well enough. He also rather wished he been able to take a change of clothing and a suitcase, because the cold weather gear was not meant for indoor temperatures. He'd stripped down to his underclothing to keep from dying from the heat after the first day had passed.
That turned out to be a minor mistake, because he'd had no warning when he was teleported.
"Hello and wel-" The woman's voice cut off as she saw him.
Bolt stared at her and sighed before covering his face. "Of course." He muttered.
"Is there a reason you're almost naked?" The woman who teleported him asked with a head tilt.
The person in front of him was someone who was best described as pink. Pink clothing, pink hair, and pink eyes. She also had a rather voluptuous figure, unnaturally so. An artificial look that would not have been out of place on a sex worker if one wanted to be insulting about it. Bolt didn't. At the higher levels of technology a person's appearance was a choice. This woman had very likely chosen to look this way.
"I was on a very cold planet before I boarded and didn't bring a change of clothes." The young man said calmly as he struggled not to show any embarrassment. "You wouldn't happen to have something else would you? I could get back into that, but I'd die of the heat in a few minutes." He gestured to the neatly folded and thick pile of clothing next to him.
The words seemed to delight the woman. "Oh, easy!" She tapped her hands together and a second later a set of clothing was in her hands. "Here you go! It's not fancy, but you'll look good in them!"
Mildly surprised at how easy and painless the was turning out to be, Bolt grabbed the stuff and started to pull it on. "Didn't even notice I landed."
"Yeah, that model is nice, but not really suited for sightseeing or passenger comfort. It's fast. That's it. My personal ship, which you are on, is far better." The woman noted with a chipper grin. "Welcome by the way! You may call me Senior Bubbles. I'll be your personal liaison for now and in the future."
"Liason?" Bolt paused a moment before continuing to dress himself. He couldn't say he liked the style or color of the clothes, but he was not going to complain about it. "Could I get an explanation of that and what this is about? It was all very abrubt."
"Of course! When someone advances to journeyman the MTA likes to offer a point of contact for them! It varies depending on the person, the circumstances, and even their requests!" Bubbles explained and very obviously didn't stop watching Bolt. "In this case you helped me advance, so I put in a request and got it. You're both young and have potential, which helped significantly."
That actually made Bolt stop moving completely. "I'm sorry, but I helped you advance? How?!" He asked incredulously. This was someone with direct MTA backing. The ship alone was worth more than everything he'd built put together and doubled.
"It is not as large a deal as you might think. You get inspiration from the strangest places sometimes. That's why Journeymen are encouraged to travel. I was at the cusp and my automated feeds brought up your engine component. It gave me an idea! My specialty is energy generation and distribution." The senior explained while giving a shrug and twirling her hair. "We can talk more about that later if you like, but our schedule is going to be a bit packed. I need to review a lot of material while we travel to our destination. We're going to the Halcyon Citadel to get you officially registered as a Journeyman. The trip time will take a week or so and then I can drop you off back home in another week."
"That's it?" Bolt asked with mild confusion.
"Sounds pretty innocent right? Why are we rushing and why am I personally involved then right? There's reasons. You haven't been naughty, but well... You tripped a few alerts somewhere." The words from Bubbles weren't alarming until Bolt realized what they implied. Worst was the fact that the woman's expression hadn't changed from that slightly vapid and amused expression she'd led with. "You probably got the idea from the materials you had in the shuttle. A lot of the details from you and your teams comms were uploaded to our networks and it got someone's attention."
The young man nodded slowly. "So I did something that could piss some people off but not the MTA as a whole?" He reasoned out.
"Got it! Like you're fine. It's just, there's degrees of fine. The MTA is an organization, and it has people who have very specific and strident opinions." Bubbles paused and actually winced slightly as she seemed to realize something and began to rattle off something that felt rather rote. "I am going to specifically say that you have not done anything the MTA will not approve of. I am also going to state that I'm not trying to cover things up, or bribe you, or request a bribe, or anything else that would be considered inappropriate." She rolled her eyes and stared at the ceiling as she continued. "So if ANYONE looks at the official record they'll know that. I am offering someone with potential some expedited and discounted services to encourage a good relationship with the MTA as a whole.
It said something about the entire mess that he wanted this over and done with more than he wanted further clarification. Bubbles wasn't being threatening, but Bolt knew that things had gotten complicated. He almost wished the Hidden Master had kept being blunt instead of this.
"So I'm going to assume that we're officially monitored." The young man noted dryly after a beat.
"Down to our genetic profile." Bubbles confirmed with a slightly tired look. "You get used to it. The info isn't pulled unless someone with the appropriate authorization asks for it. The MTA doesn't usually have new journeymen escorted like this. Someone pulled some strings, and that's going to be extremely obvious. It's also doesn't matter. Everything is within MTA rules. You legitimately just found something that improves your designs and my presence simply prevents random accusations. Very technically you're even getting paid for the inconvenience by expediting this trip and because I'll be revising Morning Star with you on the way back."
For a moment Bolt wondered if should object. Then he realized that she could address the resonant issue and that this was an MTA trained senior offering. "I'm assuming we're improving it?"
"Bolt, honey, darling, that mech might be Third Rate, but she's absolutely gorgeous. I want to get my hands all over her." The MTA designer replied in such a salacious tone that the young man gave a startled flinch. "Hah! If that wasn't clear yes we are. You'll be getting a free MTA consultation and work done to get her to the peak within your means. I'm pretty sure our specialties are very compatible, so this is actually a benefit for me too." The woman paused and winced again. "And I'm going to go ahead and give you access to our communications area right now so that we can prevent any misunderstandings. Please feel free to talk with your wife and family and explain the situation. I probably should have said that earlier. Their comms will have certain details blanked out and they'll get an official briefing on what to say. You'll get it too. Think of this more as us preventing trouble rather than there being trouble."
The designer had to admit he was feeling more than a little exhausted by this point.
Luker number 5
Versed in the lewd.
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This all makes perfect sense on why the MTA would do this and why Bolt wants nothing to do with this.