Chapter 19
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MarkWarrior
I trust you know where the happy button is?
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Chapter 19
Date: December 20, 3027
"It's with great pleasure that I can finally say that we'll be opening our doors for full business on January 3rd, Thirty Twenty Eight!" I said to the crowded entry room of the factory complex to a bunch of cheers. It'd taken a year, but we were finally about to get started. Our machines were ready, our people were trained, and it was time to get started on making the very things that were going to set us apart. "Now, enjoy the party and the next few weeks off," I spoke into the mic with a grin on my face. "We've got plenty of food and booze. So have a great evening, and a Merry Christmas!"
With that final word, I stepped down from the small podium we'd set up and nodded for the hired DJ to start playing his music again.
"This is nice," Rebecca said, meeting me with a glass of wine. I'd invited her as my date for the evening after having spent the last few months going on a handful of dates. "I don't think I've seen any factories with something like this."
She pointed at the 'glass' encased Mackie that stood in the middle of the room. We'd spent some extra money, but in the end, it really did make the room look perfect. Our flagship product on display with myomer muscles flexing and weapons pointed at the front gates for any potential intruders.
"The Interior designers didn't agree until they saw what we'd done with it," I replied with a chuckle. "Once they did, they fell over themselves trying to figure out which one of them got to play with the design that went around the 'mech."
"Well, they certainly seemed to go with something practical yet elegant," Rebecca indicated the polished and painted concrete mixture that was under our feet.
"It was all we'd let them do," I said, sipping my glass of wine. "This is a factory, we don't need to get too fancy with it. Practical's the main throughline of our entire business model, it wouldn't make sense for us to throw that away."
As we walked towards the tables laden with food, we were intercepted by Sylvie and her date. The FWL officer was as at ease here as he would have been in any environment, or at least it seemed like it.
"Rebecca!" Sylvie rushed and hugged my date. "It's so good to see you again! I keep telling Edmund to bring you around more."
"That'd be my fauly," Rebecca admitted shamelessly. "I'm trying to help him find a work-life balance. So, any dates with me means he's not allowed to think about coming back here until the next day," She shrugged. "It's a work in progress, but I think I'll have it working in a couple of years."
"Good luck," Sylvie laughed. "We're lucky if he's not here before we get here and after we leave for the day."
"Startups rely on blood, sweat, and the time you pour into the first few years," I replied. "I work hard now so that later, I don't have to do nearly as much."
Rebecca just shook her head at me before continuing to pull me towards the food table.
"I hate to move on, but I'm hungry, and my boyfriend here promised some good food," Rebecca elbowed me in the ribs.
"That, I did," I nodded. "Not that I made any of it, I'd burn water if I weren't careful. But all the catering should be good, you're the one who gave me the recommendations."
"That's why I want to get to the table," Rebecca tugged me along, her olive dress and dark skin flowing just right in the twinkling lights that we'd decorated the place in. "The smoked meats from Oscar's are divine, I don't want to miss out on them."
"Well, I'll let you be the one to point me in the right direction then," I followed until we reached the table and picked out foods with a bit less spice before finding a seat at one of the tables.
The conversation between Rebecca and I found a natural lull as we ate, and I began watching what my employees were doing. Billy and Eddy were with a group of veteran factory workers, laughing and chatting at some story that had likely already been told between them for decades. In another area, the office people congregated, less loud, but no less engaged in whatever was going on. Then, there were all younger folks taking the opportunity to tear up the dance floor.
They danced, the music played, and the groups began to dissolve and mingle in new and interesting ways.
"You did good here," Rebecca said in a quiet moment as she looked at what I was observing. "Real good," She squeezed my hand and went back to chowing down on the smoked brisket.
This felt right. I'd always enjoyed the moments when I could see the fruits of my labor and celebrate it with the people that helped make it happen. Sure, I had some sort of special ability now. But didn't really mean jack shit without each and every one of the people who were helping me to run the factory. I was one man, and no one man was the sole source of everything. Hell, I'd have never even been able to do this in the first place if it weren't for Sylvie being willing to take a chance on a crazy guy who'd just quit Quikscell.
"What's that smile for?" Rebecca asked, polishing off her food before wiping the corners of her mouth. Whatever lipstick she'd had one wasn't there anymore.
"Just thinking about how far we've come," I gestured around me. "If you'd have asked me two years ago, I'd have said this sort of thing was impossible and called them a liar."
"Waiting for things to go wrong again so things feel right?" Rebecca finished. "Sometimes, we forget that good things can happen. We get so sucked up into thinking that everything is always balanced that we dont' realize the good can continue. By waiting and hesitating thinking that the bad part's about to hit, we stop and brace for something that never comes. Making us the ones who set ourselves up for the failure, not fate or Murphy, or what have you."
My date shrugged. "Good happens, bad happens, we kick some snow, mutter a few cusswords, pick up our snowboard, and we climb back up the slopes. Now, throw away these plates and meet me on the dancefloor."
"I'm warning you that I'm terrible," I laughed. "I havent danced in a long time."
"Neither have I," She stage whispered. "Which means it'll be twice as fun when we both mess it up!"
She was crazy, but she was also exactly the kind of person I'd been looking for all my life. It was a shame I'd had to die to find her.
Date: April 15, 3028
We had started operations on January 3rd, and as a result, we had a full lance of Mackies ready for the FWL milita trials. The funny thing was, even if we didn't end up selling these to the militia, we already had a mercenary buyer lined up.
Hammer lance had apparently hit a windfall after being one of our very first customers. They'd expanded from a lance to a near-company in the last few years, and were looking for something solid to back them up. They'd remembered us and had reached out to see if we could free up any of our production of the Mackies beyond what we were selling to the militia.
While I appreciated the faith that Hammer placed in our products, I actually wanted the 'mechs to pass the militia's trials. Not that smaller customers like Hammer weren't going to be important. But we were seeking a government contract that would fill our main coffers, then we could worry about pushing out more production to sell to the mercenaries like Hammer.
That said, he'd seemed in good spirits when I diverted him over to the salvage side of things, and he ended up picking up a pair of refit 'mechs before heading back offworld with a promise to return and see if we were selling any of the assault mechs later.
Still, if nothing else, the trials were at least somewhat satisfying to watch on a primal level. A big gun and pretty lights leading to things burning, blowing up, and being destroyed was just enjoyable to my brain. It was like getting to watch Mythbusters in person.
The test pilot was a guy named Jack from Solaris who specialized in testing new and unusual equipment.
A grizzled and graying man who had been there, done that, and gotten nothing but scars from it.
It'd honestly been a relief to hear his first words once he'd powered it up and walked around for a bit.
"She handles smooth and has a big gun," he commented. "Let's hope it stays that way."
Unfortunately, while I was allowed to watch the warm ups and first performance, I wasn't allowed to watch the full trials. I'd be permitted to review the footage and the results later, but the FWL surprisingly didn't want any CEOs influencing the peopel conducting the grading. At least not overtly.
Apparently most companies just figured out who the people issuing the tests and bribed them well in advance. Not that I would have done that in the first place, but it was definitely something interesting to see now that I was amidst this world.
"Don't you want to see what's happening?" Sylvie asked me, tossing her magazine down in frustration.
"Of course I do," I admitted. "I'm as curious as you are to how things are going. I also was really looking forward to the explosions. That said, you're forgetting something, Sylvie. We don't just get to watch through the external cameras. We get to watch everything via the Roms later. Everything Jack said, did, or shot at."
"I suppose I can wait for that," She sighed. "It just feels like we're finally getting somewhere only to get held back, again."
"Even if we don't pass the FWL militia trials, we can sell units to mercenary groups," I shrugged. "But I don't think that'll be an issue here. We're not trying to pass the trails mandated for front-lines, we're aiming for the second-line and garrison troops. It'll work out."
–
–
"Well," Colonel Lezzhov said after he and his staff had come back into the room following the trials a week later. "I almost wish that you had been pushing this for the front lines. It's a fucking zombie of a 'mech."
"How'd you figure that?" I asked, not having looked through the paperwork they'd given me yet.
"Well, there are a lot of criteria when it comes to procurement of a 'mech or any piece of war equipment," Lezzhov stated. "The first one is salvageability. Despite what we tell people to recruit them, a 'mech is far more valuable to us than the mechwarrior within it. So, we shot the shit out of the 'mech, blew it up with everything we could, and then had our techs rebuild it. In most cases we could have it back up and running again within five or six hours. Now, we don't test engine hits in these tests, but if we did, I suspect it would endure that as well."
The Colonel tapped the papers.
"The next criteria is lethality," He continued. "How much damage is it going to do to another 'mech, tank, etc. While back in the Star League Era, we'd have had tests against other mechs, tanks, etc. Nowadays it's an industrialmech chassis with a bunch of armor on it. We did ding you a bit on the long-range, but PPCs are scarce nowadays, so that one was still a pass."
"Where did we fail?" I asked, nervously tapping my hands on the conference room table.
"That's the thing, you didn't," Lezzhov stated. "We're willing to purchase the full lance you have available now as well as the next two off the line. That's our budget for this year. Unfortunately, it looks like Quikscell's going to get more money out of us. But that's the price we're going to have to pay to get extra firepower like this."
"About Quikscell," I smirked and leaned forward…
Date: December 20, 3027
"It's with great pleasure that I can finally say that we'll be opening our doors for full business on January 3rd, Thirty Twenty Eight!" I said to the crowded entry room of the factory complex to a bunch of cheers. It'd taken a year, but we were finally about to get started. Our machines were ready, our people were trained, and it was time to get started on making the very things that were going to set us apart. "Now, enjoy the party and the next few weeks off," I spoke into the mic with a grin on my face. "We've got plenty of food and booze. So have a great evening, and a Merry Christmas!"
With that final word, I stepped down from the small podium we'd set up and nodded for the hired DJ to start playing his music again.
"This is nice," Rebecca said, meeting me with a glass of wine. I'd invited her as my date for the evening after having spent the last few months going on a handful of dates. "I don't think I've seen any factories with something like this."
She pointed at the 'glass' encased Mackie that stood in the middle of the room. We'd spent some extra money, but in the end, it really did make the room look perfect. Our flagship product on display with myomer muscles flexing and weapons pointed at the front gates for any potential intruders.
"The Interior designers didn't agree until they saw what we'd done with it," I replied with a chuckle. "Once they did, they fell over themselves trying to figure out which one of them got to play with the design that went around the 'mech."
"Well, they certainly seemed to go with something practical yet elegant," Rebecca indicated the polished and painted concrete mixture that was under our feet.
"It was all we'd let them do," I said, sipping my glass of wine. "This is a factory, we don't need to get too fancy with it. Practical's the main throughline of our entire business model, it wouldn't make sense for us to throw that away."
As we walked towards the tables laden with food, we were intercepted by Sylvie and her date. The FWL officer was as at ease here as he would have been in any environment, or at least it seemed like it.
"Rebecca!" Sylvie rushed and hugged my date. "It's so good to see you again! I keep telling Edmund to bring you around more."
"That'd be my fauly," Rebecca admitted shamelessly. "I'm trying to help him find a work-life balance. So, any dates with me means he's not allowed to think about coming back here until the next day," She shrugged. "It's a work in progress, but I think I'll have it working in a couple of years."
"Good luck," Sylvie laughed. "We're lucky if he's not here before we get here and after we leave for the day."
"Startups rely on blood, sweat, and the time you pour into the first few years," I replied. "I work hard now so that later, I don't have to do nearly as much."
Rebecca just shook her head at me before continuing to pull me towards the food table.
"I hate to move on, but I'm hungry, and my boyfriend here promised some good food," Rebecca elbowed me in the ribs.
"That, I did," I nodded. "Not that I made any of it, I'd burn water if I weren't careful. But all the catering should be good, you're the one who gave me the recommendations."
"That's why I want to get to the table," Rebecca tugged me along, her olive dress and dark skin flowing just right in the twinkling lights that we'd decorated the place in. "The smoked meats from Oscar's are divine, I don't want to miss out on them."
"Well, I'll let you be the one to point me in the right direction then," I followed until we reached the table and picked out foods with a bit less spice before finding a seat at one of the tables.
The conversation between Rebecca and I found a natural lull as we ate, and I began watching what my employees were doing. Billy and Eddy were with a group of veteran factory workers, laughing and chatting at some story that had likely already been told between them for decades. In another area, the office people congregated, less loud, but no less engaged in whatever was going on. Then, there were all younger folks taking the opportunity to tear up the dance floor.
They danced, the music played, and the groups began to dissolve and mingle in new and interesting ways.
"You did good here," Rebecca said in a quiet moment as she looked at what I was observing. "Real good," She squeezed my hand and went back to chowing down on the smoked brisket.
This felt right. I'd always enjoyed the moments when I could see the fruits of my labor and celebrate it with the people that helped make it happen. Sure, I had some sort of special ability now. But didn't really mean jack shit without each and every one of the people who were helping me to run the factory. I was one man, and no one man was the sole source of everything. Hell, I'd have never even been able to do this in the first place if it weren't for Sylvie being willing to take a chance on a crazy guy who'd just quit Quikscell.
"What's that smile for?" Rebecca asked, polishing off her food before wiping the corners of her mouth. Whatever lipstick she'd had one wasn't there anymore.
"Just thinking about how far we've come," I gestured around me. "If you'd have asked me two years ago, I'd have said this sort of thing was impossible and called them a liar."
"Waiting for things to go wrong again so things feel right?" Rebecca finished. "Sometimes, we forget that good things can happen. We get so sucked up into thinking that everything is always balanced that we dont' realize the good can continue. By waiting and hesitating thinking that the bad part's about to hit, we stop and brace for something that never comes. Making us the ones who set ourselves up for the failure, not fate or Murphy, or what have you."
My date shrugged. "Good happens, bad happens, we kick some snow, mutter a few cusswords, pick up our snowboard, and we climb back up the slopes. Now, throw away these plates and meet me on the dancefloor."
"I'm warning you that I'm terrible," I laughed. "I havent danced in a long time."
"Neither have I," She stage whispered. "Which means it'll be twice as fun when we both mess it up!"
She was crazy, but she was also exactly the kind of person I'd been looking for all my life. It was a shame I'd had to die to find her.
Date: April 15, 3028
We had started operations on January 3rd, and as a result, we had a full lance of Mackies ready for the FWL milita trials. The funny thing was, even if we didn't end up selling these to the militia, we already had a mercenary buyer lined up.
Hammer lance had apparently hit a windfall after being one of our very first customers. They'd expanded from a lance to a near-company in the last few years, and were looking for something solid to back them up. They'd remembered us and had reached out to see if we could free up any of our production of the Mackies beyond what we were selling to the militia.
While I appreciated the faith that Hammer placed in our products, I actually wanted the 'mechs to pass the militia's trials. Not that smaller customers like Hammer weren't going to be important. But we were seeking a government contract that would fill our main coffers, then we could worry about pushing out more production to sell to the mercenaries like Hammer.
That said, he'd seemed in good spirits when I diverted him over to the salvage side of things, and he ended up picking up a pair of refit 'mechs before heading back offworld with a promise to return and see if we were selling any of the assault mechs later.
Still, if nothing else, the trials were at least somewhat satisfying to watch on a primal level. A big gun and pretty lights leading to things burning, blowing up, and being destroyed was just enjoyable to my brain. It was like getting to watch Mythbusters in person.
The test pilot was a guy named Jack from Solaris who specialized in testing new and unusual equipment.
A grizzled and graying man who had been there, done that, and gotten nothing but scars from it.
It'd honestly been a relief to hear his first words once he'd powered it up and walked around for a bit.
"She handles smooth and has a big gun," he commented. "Let's hope it stays that way."
Unfortunately, while I was allowed to watch the warm ups and first performance, I wasn't allowed to watch the full trials. I'd be permitted to review the footage and the results later, but the FWL surprisingly didn't want any CEOs influencing the peopel conducting the grading. At least not overtly.
Apparently most companies just figured out who the people issuing the tests and bribed them well in advance. Not that I would have done that in the first place, but it was definitely something interesting to see now that I was amidst this world.
"Don't you want to see what's happening?" Sylvie asked me, tossing her magazine down in frustration.
"Of course I do," I admitted. "I'm as curious as you are to how things are going. I also was really looking forward to the explosions. That said, you're forgetting something, Sylvie. We don't just get to watch through the external cameras. We get to watch everything via the Roms later. Everything Jack said, did, or shot at."
"I suppose I can wait for that," She sighed. "It just feels like we're finally getting somewhere only to get held back, again."
"Even if we don't pass the FWL militia trials, we can sell units to mercenary groups," I shrugged. "But I don't think that'll be an issue here. We're not trying to pass the trails mandated for front-lines, we're aiming for the second-line and garrison troops. It'll work out."
–
–
"Well," Colonel Lezzhov said after he and his staff had come back into the room following the trials a week later. "I almost wish that you had been pushing this for the front lines. It's a fucking zombie of a 'mech."
"How'd you figure that?" I asked, not having looked through the paperwork they'd given me yet.
"Well, there are a lot of criteria when it comes to procurement of a 'mech or any piece of war equipment," Lezzhov stated. "The first one is salvageability. Despite what we tell people to recruit them, a 'mech is far more valuable to us than the mechwarrior within it. So, we shot the shit out of the 'mech, blew it up with everything we could, and then had our techs rebuild it. In most cases we could have it back up and running again within five or six hours. Now, we don't test engine hits in these tests, but if we did, I suspect it would endure that as well."
The Colonel tapped the papers.
"The next criteria is lethality," He continued. "How much damage is it going to do to another 'mech, tank, etc. While back in the Star League Era, we'd have had tests against other mechs, tanks, etc. Nowadays it's an industrialmech chassis with a bunch of armor on it. We did ding you a bit on the long-range, but PPCs are scarce nowadays, so that one was still a pass."
"Where did we fail?" I asked, nervously tapping my hands on the conference room table.
"That's the thing, you didn't," Lezzhov stated. "We're willing to purchase the full lance you have available now as well as the next two off the line. That's our budget for this year. Unfortunately, it looks like Quikscell's going to get more money out of us. But that's the price we're going to have to pay to get extra firepower like this."
"About Quikscell," I smirked and leaned forward…
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