The Mech Touch novel Chapter 224

The Vintage Festival took place at 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. _{fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm}

"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 insured 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, mesmerising all who entered this opened halls.

Many of these honored lastgen 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 scratch 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 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 approach 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 grey 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 at 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 on 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.