What's Junk? (The Mech Touch)

[Simonbob]

A one mech haunted graveyard?

That's pretty cool. Useful, too.


On a seperate note? I'm in awe, @lost star. The sheer amount you've been writing is pretty insane.

 

[Canadian Leprechaun]

So question: Given that Cerberus with 2 of the heads being missile launchers worked thematically for the spirit and that the Zombies are designed to be fully functional without a head, Is there a reason why they haven't replaced the Zombies head's with a head shaped missile launcher? Seems like a cheap way to up the damage.

 

[lost star]

So question: Given that Cerberus with 2 of the heads being missile launchers worked thematically for the spirit and that the Zombies are designed to be fully functional without a head, Is there a reason why they haven't replaced the Zombies head's with a head shaped missile launcher? Seems like a cheap way to up the damage.

Click to shrink...

Twould require a complete redesign and likely the removal of some armor. Head trick aside, the main use of the Zombie is that it's a decent and cheap newbie shield mech. The head is best likened to a one time grenade more than anything else.

 

[lost star]

What did it mean to lose a planet? It was something that boggled the mind to contemplate. The average person could not really understand the impact. Lilly herself couldn't really get her mind around it. She didn't much care to either. Sometimes it was best not to think too hard about things.

The refugees probably had similar minds. They'd left a planet. It was easier to think that was what happened. They hadn't left a mass graveyard. They'd left a planet. She could see it in every line of their body. Tired minds, exhausted spirits, and shattered wills. No one wanted to contemplate what had happened. Only a few were really standing without qualms. They were mostly the ones with family still. Those groups were just grief stricken, not nearly broken messes.

Credit to Kriff, he'd done well with saving families. She could tell just based on how they looked at him as he exited first that he'd performed miracles. She could also tell that only discipline and honor kept him up, though your standard person wouldn't be able to figure that out just looking at him.

The man had somehow gotten a clean and pressed uniform from somewhere before landing. His hair was done up in a neatly shaved mohawk that seemed to be the most common style of the refugees. The combination would have been called Space Punk or something in another time period. Here it was just the last bit of his nation's sense of fashion combined with stark military discipline. It was a statement and probably the last bit of defiance the man had left.

"Venerable Lilly." The man offered a hand as he approached.

"General Kriff." Lilly took and and took a few moments to really read him to the best of her ability. "Yer not broken." She stated bluntly. "Yer closer to it than I'd like."

The man didn't tremble. He didn't wince. He gave a small nod. "I appreciate your evaluation of my mental health, but I'd request you mind your fucking business."

He obviously didn't mean anything rude with the words. The crude vulgarity was a local peculiarity that would likely disappear with their nation. Lilly had reviewed some of their history, and that was one of their quirks. Crude, rude, and defiant had been their trademarks. All of it was gone.

"Will do so, if ya can put yer people in the line o' fire and keep it together without me poking." Lilly nodded carefully towards the pilots unloading from the transports next.

"If we wanted to stay out of combat or get vengeance, we would have stayed with Master Jeanne. She offered." Kriff responded and shifted to a parade rest to better present himself to the people offloading. "She's obviously playing a small political game of sorts in arranging this, but whatever it is seems relatively selfless compared to the other games that happened before the end. This was one choice of many that we accepted of free will."

"Dunno what it here. Can't read people that well through video, and I haven't even exchanged letters with her anyway. That's all been Bolt and he's honest to a fault." Lilly contributed and gave a small wave to a few children. "We can discuss more later. I think yer being honest at least. Any pilots I should worry about?"

"At the moment no. See how they do once the mechs are assigned. You should have the numbers and who has Heart Crystals. Been interesting to see how much the men cling to them. More than a few good men passed on their Crystals as a last will. It's helped more than I expected." Kriff saluted to a few injured men as they began to walk out.

Pup chose this time to run up, and immediately began to almost herd the injured men into a few powered wheel-chairs he'd grabbed. Lilly very deliberately did not do what she wanted to do there. She just watched and breathed out an irritated breath through her nose.

"Told the boy to come here and just look pretty." She grumbled. "I barely do PR and I know that much."

"He is very young and eager." Kriff observed with artful neutrality. "It's not harmful thankfully. If anything it shows surprising humanity. Experts that young tend to be focused to a point where they aren't always relatable. I did not expect someone so personable. You included. I was anticipating some sort of declarative independence based off your profile."

"Would you mind explaining that please?" Lilly asked leadingly.

"The founding principle that happens when an expert breaks through paints everything they do afterwards under that lens. They channel willpower and everything is done because they say so. I've seen many experts in my time. The ones focused on duty are pure duty. You ascended fighting against others for independence so you should have hints of it even here. Yet here we are just talking." Kriff wasn't watching Lilly directly as he spoke, but the woman could tell he was trying to probe her with his words and was observing her closely.

Lilly carefully examined herself. She could see what he meant in a way. Her ascension had been a bit strange, not that she'd tell anyone that. She'd held tight to all of herself out greed and desire. Her core founding was not rebellion or independence. It wasn't even greed. It was simply choice. She had chosen when and where. Free Will was perhaps the best description of it, though she'd never actually voice it.

Just focusing on that was enough to make people stand up a bit straighter around her though. Lilly smiled slightly as Pup continued to help. "I choose my own path. If that means following your lead, that's me still."

"Dangerous." Kriff said simply. "I can work with that. And Pup?"

"He's a little guard dog." Lilly teased with a soft smile.

Mostly. Lilly wasn't going to say that the spirit they'd put in his mech had likely helped significantly. Pup was young, weak, and required a lot of training for an expert. He wasn't flawed though. Lilly's instincts screamed that he had potential to become something grand.

Mid movement Pup paused and tilted his head and looked in a particular direction. Lilly's gaze immediately shifted before she even thought. Her body moved and tapped at an alert in her pocket. Pup moved towards the problem, on instinct, then on recognition.

One of the men exiting the shuttle had looked strange. Lilly didn't get why consciously. Neither did Pup. Their instincts said just said something was bad. The security team didn't bother to ask questions. Neither did the Fu-dog that had stationed itself at the side. They both moved in concert towards the shifting man, and he was brought down before anyone had a chance to register anything.

A few seconds later the medics were being called as the man was hefted into a carry and pulled to a stretcher. The next few minutes were a bit of a blur of activity as field tested and battle hardened medical professionals took charge. The man was carted off and out of sight shortly thereafter.

Kriff watched it was an exhausted expression. "Status?" He asked.

"Exhaustion, trauma, and possible heart attack." One of the medics said. "The medical facilities are not in use?" He asked Lilly.

"Some are, but we haven't had the numbers or the expertise to use it all." Lilly answered back as she looked over the other shellshocked refugees. "Our 'Olympus' is really enough to be a small city if we ever get the people fer it. That includes two fully supplied hospital areas and room fer more if need be."

"Read that in the briefing. Still fucking amazing." Kriff muttered. "All for one mech?"

"MTA loves something they call masterworks." Lilly answered back with a shrug. "If anything I think they might have underpaid. From what my hubby says one Third Rate one is worth thousands of MTA credits, and you know the conversion ratio."

"Considering the expenses, they might have but..." Kriff turned to stare at the looming mountain nearby. "Well, the immediate reward is sometimes more valuable than some nebulous future."

"Well let's get you all in there for the immediate reward then." Lilly countered and grinned just a bit widely at everyone still watching. "Come on, food and drink inside! Fresh beds, secured homes! Tomorrow will be another struggle, but today you all rest!" She put her will into it, and the people responded every so slightly.

It was enough for now.

 

[Simonbob]

From what my hubby says one Third Rate one is worth thousands of MTA credits, and you know the conversion ratio."

Click to shrink...

one MTA one is worth thousands of Third Rate credits.


I see the group focused sensor Expert is like that out of the mech, as well.

It's really a cultivation step, isn't it?

 

[lost star]

Experts get intuition out of the mech and a few minor things. Nothing like real cultivation bonuses though. Their intuition is top notch though, and aligned along what they broke through under. Pup is protecting his people. Lilly is what people want.

 

[AmeriaOlacyne]

one MTA one is worth thousands of Third Rate credits.

Click to shrink...

No, the original one is right, they're not talking about credit to credit conversion, but Masterwork Mech to MTA credit conversion. But it might be better to delete or swap that second 'one', like:
"one Third Rate is worth thousands of MTA credits"
or
"one Third Rate Masterwork is worth thousands of MTA credits"

 

[Simonbob]

No, the original one is right, they're not talking about credit to credit conversion, but Masterwork Mech to MTA credit conversion. But it might be better to delete or swap that second 'one', like:
"one Third Rate is worth thousands of MTA credits"
or
"one Third Rate Masterwork is worth thousands of MTA credits"

Click to shrink...

That would make sense, but it wasn't quite clear, until I went back to re-read it.

 

[lost star]

The main command room was actually one of the rooms that had been used before. It hadn't been used well, but it had been used. Kriff's support staff had already activated more than a few terminals and were speaking with the Wrench Rat techs to get things arranged and customized. The main point of interest was a large holographic representation of the planet that was currently zoomed in on their home.

"Still can't believe Olympus stuck as the official name." Bolt muttered to Lilly, who giggled.

"It's what happens when you don't bother officially naming something. Someone decides that a funny name fits and you're stuck with it." The expert whispered back.

Kriff looked a lot better as he surveyed the map and what looked to be a force composition list. He seemed to have shaved years off his age, and his already neat mohawk had been turned crisp. The uniform was different as well. It was a brown one with a small wrench on the breast. Nothing else yet, but it, along with the gas mask on his hip emphasized a new allegiance. It was a transparently obvious statement, but still appreciated.

"So, numerically we're hosed." The general began once people had settled down around the hologram. "Mech wise, we can field a little over two thousand at present time. More pilots will come with time, but we don't have that. Our allies in the space clans are reporting several unidentified fleets within jump distance. We have to assume upwards around five thousand mechs landing in the first wave, with more in subsequent waves."

"They won't have experts." Lilly offered to the room at large. "Got some calls from guys watching fer em. We might get some later, but the first wave is all the real cowards who were already heading out."

"As Venerable Lilly said." Kriff gave her a nod. "Now, historically this isn't new for this planet I understand?"

"Ain't the first time, likely won't be the last." Bolt's father said. "Even the number ain't new. My paw talked about how there were something like a million mechs fighting round here in his day. The number might o' been exaggerated, but we did have all three throwing armies at the place. Ya can still see piles of parts in a few areas."

The general looked a bit incredulous about that but nodded all the same. "We're likely going to get something similar here over time. The only blessing as that the shitters won't be coordinated. We'll get a big group hitting us with scattered opportunist doing their own thing. The allied mercenary groups have taken our advice and are currently bunkering down. They'll be playing hammer to our anvil when they see openings. Projection wise they'll make enough profit from counter raiding to be happy about the arrangement."

"Also sent the word out to other clans to bunker down." Bolt's mother said. "Bit o' a shame to go back into the ratholes, but we're in a better situation than last time."

"Tactically we have a better forecast than the numbers will tell you. This mountain is a fortress that will require dedicated effort to crack. The mech designs we're going to be using should be stronger defensively as well. The fog generation alone will prevent or destroy the casual probes. Our largest challenge isn't winning one battle. It's that our defense has to hold for years. This will not stop until the Sand War ends, or one of the shielding nations drop. The planet is both on a prime evacuation point and a high value target." Kriff outlined the issue.

There was a few moments of silence as the general got some water and took a drink. Everyone attending the briefing nodded along. This was all pretty well known, but it didn't hurt to go over it again.

"Now, our general plan is very simple. Experts are on semi-standby. They're our ace and need to be at full power for when needed. Pup when he's sent out should be able to make us win anything from two to three to one odds. Lilly will be our expert and elite counter. We have the mist generators on full blast, with Cerberus and Drowned Man on regular patrols. A handful of Undertakers will act as coordinators. When the enemy masses, we'll have the ghouls deploy to harass." Kriff highlighted a few areas and indicated numbers on the map as he spoke. "We can't clear out the planet, but we can make a no-mans land around us. Manpower and endurance will be tight, but if we're careful with shifts we can maintain this indefinately."

"We ain't alone either. The spacer clans will be less pressured and are still willing to help. The station we have in orbit will be directly above us and a hard enough target that they'll want to avoid it." Lilly contributed again. "We're all pretty confident that it'll be left alone anyway. It ain't like we got the orbit completely secure. They'll land all around the planet and will be attacking targets of opportunity when they can."

"Third Rate mech design helps us there. All space mechs are in the sand war. The governments aren't shy at outright confiscating them, and no one with sense is going to parade around with space capable mechs nearby a front. Cowardice is one thing. Having weapons that could be useful will get some sort of response." Kriff added.

"So, space is good. Ground is less good?" Bolt tried to clarify.

"Close to it." The general looked at the map. "This is less than I'm used to working with, but we have an extremely good base, and the mercenary companies are surprisingly friendly."

"Been encouraging them to set down a few roots and the business deals haven't hurt." Bolt's mother said with a small grin.

"Should I be focusing on new designs or refining?" Bolt asked the relevant question for himself.

"Tough question. Your work is good and unusual enough that a surprise would be welcome, but at the same time new mechs take time to train in." Kriff responded carefully as he continued to examine the map and shift people around. "If you get very inspired a prototype isn't out of the question. Otherwise focus on refining and countering. You're not used to working in a wartime environment as a designer. Assume that the enemy is trying to identify weak points in all your mechs, and ours are publicly listed."

"Our in house designs are a bit varied from the public stuff, but I get the point." Bolt acknowledged with a nod.

"Not looking forward to the on call thing for years." Lilly muttered.

Kriff looked displeased as well. "I dislike it myself, but we're very limited on manpower. My hope is that we can let you rest frquently. Though I do have to ask, what was that note about simulations? I was hoping to get the men I brought through them."

"Ah." Lilly gave Bolt a glance and he shrugged. "Call it an in house secret? Have the guys claim a Heart Crystal if they don't have one and pilot a few times in real life before getting into the sims. More than that you'd have ta ask Bolt."

"There's some things that border on MTA secrets that I work with." Bolt tried to choose his words very carefully. "The sims are perfectly legitimate, but people might notice they look better than normal stuff. Just leave it at that and don't pry further please. If you have issues let me know of course, but it's rather hush hush. Expect things to change a bit in them and feedback is very appreciated."

Mentioning the MTA was probably a bad idea. Kriff had been a general. He'd been privy to more than a few classified briefings. He could connect dots when he needed to. Bolt could see him doing so now. Credit to him, he knew how to keep his mouth shut. The older man just nodded once he reached whatever internal conclusion he had made.

"I'll spread word that the sims are custom built and we'll leave it at that." He said before continuing. "Thank you for making them available. Good simulations are worth a substantial amount of money."

"Believe it or not it helps me too. They're er experimental." Bolt stumbled slightly in the description. They were! He just had no idea what the experiment was!

The rest of the briefing was more mundane. Numbers, positioning, force composition and the like. All of it preperation for a long battle.

Outside, stars began to fall as transports fell to the ground with barely any care and less skill. The first wave of bandits had already started to appear. They would not be the last.

---

End of Arc.

Spoiler: Mechs Built

Variant name: Monster Hunter
Base model: Monster Hunter

Weight Classification: Heavy
Recommended Role: Front Line
Armor: A
Carrying Capacity: D
Aesthetics: B+
Endurance: C+
Energy Efficiency: B
Flexibility: D-
Firepower: A
Integrity: B
Mobility: D
Spotting: D
X-Factor: D (Weapon is A)

Overall Evaluation: A one off mech designed to hunt mech-sized animals. The focus of the entire mech is to support the custom weapon. Unifying three separate designer specialties, the Void Hammer is one of the most deadly melee weapons possible at the tech level the mech was restricted to. The weapon's danger is such that the mech had to have significant reinforcement to use it without damaging itself. Unfortunately the unique conditions required to make the weapon render it unsuitable for mass productions or for anything more than a showpiece.


Variant name: Last Prayer
Base model: Last Prayer

Weight Classification: Light
Recommended Role: Rear Line Marksman
Armor: E
Carrying Capacity: D
Aesthetics: B
Endurance: C+
Energy Efficiency: C+
Flexibility: D-
Firepower: A
Integrity: C
Mobility: B (D- when charging.)
Spotting: D
X-Factor: Variable

Overall Evaluation: A specialized mech designed solely around the railgun-adjacent mechanism that is its weapon. This extreme focus makes the mech an almost textbook glass cannon. Were it in any other role than a marksman, this would categorize it as a failure. As is, the ability to load a variety of ammo and the affordable cost makes it an extremely useful add-on mech that can be used outside its intended role against the aliens called Sandmen.

The X-Factor and design have been specifically calibrated to be manufactured in extremely low tech and suboptimal conditions. This is a mech designed for the desperate praying for salvation and will try to answer it to the best of its ability. Should the prayers be fervent enough, perhaps a miracle will happen.


Variant name: Wounded Angel
Base model: Wounded Angel

Weight Classification: Medium
Recommended Role: Rifleman
Armor: C+
Carrying Capacity: C+
Aesthetics: B+
Endurance: C+
Energy Efficiency: C+
Flexibility: A
Firepower: C+
Integrity: C+
Mobility: C+
Spotting: C+
X-Factor: A

Overall Evaluation: A veteran warrior in the shape of a mech. This mech's unique physical feature is a shield in the shape of a wing that can temporarily provide cover and defense against extreme damage. While not particularly notable in any realm, it's overall performance leaves it with no extreme weaknesses either. This makes it a useful addition to almost any force, which is near ideal for a standard Rifleman. Where it less expensive and released in another time it would have been a solid seller. As is, the timeframe it was released made it's success relatively anemic.

The X-Factor is unique and the first consistent 'success' of the designer. Taking the memories of a veteran fighters, it provides stability and skill to the pilot that will grow over time. A pilot will find themselves unnaturally steady and calm using this the first time, and should the Crystal Heart be passed down, the memories will linger for those who inherit the Heart.



Variant name: Shining Shrine Maiden V2
Base model: Shining Shrine Maiden

Weight Classification: Light
Recommended Role: Light Artillery
Armor: D-
Carrying Capacity: D
Aesthetics: A+
Endurance: D-
Energy Efficiency: C
Flexibility: C
Firepower: A+
Integrity: C
Mobility: B-
Spotting: B
X-Factor: A

Overall Evaluation: A revised artillery mech. The unusual design choices remain, but the weapon and drones have been refined. The X-Factor increases damage and can burn enemies the pilot considers unholy. Due to design and cultural choices it also functions as a point of worship and gains in power and energy over time. This slightly boosts and aids the pilot, assuming they are of the appropriate religion the mech was built around.


Special
Part Evaluation: Heart System

Overall Evaluation: A novel method of retaining x-factor energy in a compact crystalline and transferrable form. This part system was designed from the ground up to allow for power and potentially more to be retained if the mech body is destroyed. This theoretically makes it possible for mechs to gain energy over time even if they are scrapped routinely, provided they all maintain the Heart System.

It is another path completely separate from spirit empowerment and has its own costs and benefits. It gives slower immediate gains, and the Crystal Heart can be damaged or destroyed through physical means, but it is a tool that can allow the individual user to lay the foundations for future generations. The creation of and propagation of this system has the potential to completely change mech-design and progression by making several fields opaque to humans accessible through conventional physical tools and computer analysis.


Variant name: Cu Sith
Base model: Cu Sith

Weight Classification: Medium
Recommended Role: Expert Small Unit Coordinator and Skirmisher
Armor: C+
Carrying Capacity: C
Aesthetics: A
Endurance: C-
Energy Efficiency: C-
Flexibility: B
Firepower: C+
Integrity: B
Mobility: B-
Spotting: S
X-Factor: A

Overall Evaluation: A mech designed to hunt with a pack. The unique X-factor combined with dedicated focus makes it an unparalleled spotter and director at the cost of being rather weak in a solo setting, which is considered a more than acceptable trade off. Physically the mech's design is focused on avoidance and disengagement than offensive ability. The deliberate choice is appropriate considering that it will be the priority target the second its abilities are known. Taken together, this is a mech that will turn the tide in all battles, assuming it survives.

 

[Simonbob]

You know things are bad when invading a rat hole looks like a good place to hide.

 

[Golgotha]

I am very keen for the next arc. Let the seige begin... the ghouls hunger for new mechs.

 

[Rustic]

Author you ever been on a cruise ship. Seen the ship gardens. I bet the rats could easily do something like that throughout the base.

 

[lost star]

He'd had a name once. It had been a killer name too. It was just hard to remember nowadays. A lot of things were hard to remember truthfully. He recalled smiles, drinks, and laughter. Standing on the line with friends. It was just difficult to think of more than that. Most of his head was in a fog and the once vivid recollections had long since grown dull. He barely remembered the time of day nowadays, and that was ok with him.

"Annnd he's crashing again." The voice was nearby, but to him it felt like miles away.

"You know the drill. Stick him and then throw him in the cockpit." Another voice said.

The nameless man didn't react as he was lifted up, or something pressed into his side. He flopped into the cockpit and then pulled on the nero-helmet by rote. After a few seconds the fog started to clear. What replaced it wasn't an improvement, though he'd harshly disagree with the sentiment. It was a vibrating and building buzz that drowned out thoughts of past in favor of present.

Uppers for piloting were not encouraged in normal circumstances. Any sort of chemical enhancement tended to cause interference with the connection. The man wouldn't have called himself the best pilot in the first place, so further hinderance didn't really do much damage. The drugs starting to wake him up meant he could do his job. At least that was what he told himself in his more lucid moments.

He was front line fodder. An addict worth about as much as his shitty mech. The only redeeming feature he had was the fact that he was usually too high to feel fear when he got going. He'd march right to his death if it got him another hit.

So he had his mech walk into the fog on orders without a single question or thought when the battle began. They were simple orders by necessity. Walk in and shoot forward. He could do that. As high as he was the mech jittered and stopped at random points, but he was in a shitty front-line monstrosity that was almost as functional as him. The people behind him barely cared about how well he was doing. He certainly didn't.

Nor did he care when the radio cut out and spooky whispers began to play through it. To the man it was more like a bad trip than anything else. He fiddled with the volume, then switched channels, then he shut it off completely. To his mild bemusement that didn't stop the spooky, it just made it less loud.

"Wow, this is a trip." The man muttered to himself as the pleasant buzz started to accelerate and he felt the jitters starting to come in. He bounced and shifted as much as possible to burn off some of the increasing energy.

The erratic movement of his mech actually ended up saving his life. He couldn't see the enemy that approached. No one else could either. The hook missed him and ended up hitting a nearby 'ally.' They were dragged down and out of sight before anyone could react. Thanks to the jamming he couldn't even hear the screams. His reaction was far more muted. He blinked a few times and double checked his sensors. They were shitty enough that they weren't picking up anything. This was certainly a trip.

"Switch to audio!" Someone called out.

"Isn't that-gaahh!" Another mech shouted as a laser blasted into his chest. Another one followed up and destroyed his internals.

"Shit, just keep going forward. They can't stop us all! When you hit the mountain start digging!" The orders came through.

As simple as they were, they were impossible to fulfil. No one could see anything through the fog, and it was getting thicker by the minute. Sensors were throwing false readings, even the good ones. The man was so high he didn't much care, but he even he figured about half what the sensor mech was saying was wrong. Even high as a kite he could tell they weren't that surrounded.

"We-ah, did bring the good sensor mech right?" The man felt compelled to ask as he casually fired in a general direction. (Completely missing everything.)

"We did! It should be enough to get through the normal stuff. They must have added something!"

The howl that came next chilled his bones. Even through the drugs. He jerked on the controls and fired more wild shots before he controlled himself enough to direct it at where the sensor mech said the enemy was. Part of why he was still around was because he wasn't completely useless in the cockpit. Just mostly useless. He sent down a few more rounds before the thing clicked on empty. The man clicked the firing mechanism a few more times just to be sure.

Then the heavy came in and he did the other thing he was good at, getting out of the way. It was a massive looming thing, twice his weight. The axes both glowed and looked absolutely horrific. Not something he wanted to get anywhere near him. The mech could probably drop one of the weapons on his ride and kill it.

A few shots pinged off the armor before the massive mech's boosters blared with fire. The man watched and then winced. Even through the drugs he could tell that wasn't good. This wasn't a battle, it was a slaughter. The heavy wasn't even trying. Sure some of the shots did damage to the armor but that didn't stop it from bisecting one of the mechs from the top down and he was sure that little dent could be buffed out in a few minutes.

He was so occupied in avoiding the heavy mech that he didn't notice the other one until it hit him. The man had a brief moment to boggle at being hit by a coffin of all things before it struck his mech again and brought it down. He didn't even get a chance to fire back! Then he remembered that he was out of ammo. The techs had probably skimped on filling his mech up again.

Laying on the ground wasn't so bad though. The pleasant buzz was starting to spread, so the man felt like he could stay there for a few hours without trouble. He probably should hit the emergency escape at some point. He wasn't really concerned though. The uppers were starting to really mellow out into something nice. His position did have one small problem. It gave him a great view of the heavy lifting up a cross in its hands and then ramming it down into his mech's reactor.

The mutilation felt a bit confusing at first. Then the whispers got really loud through the speakers. The man stared at it and fiddled with the off switch. This had all the makings of a really, really bad trip now. He either opened up the cockpit and got out into the cold mist and mud, or stayed really toasty and dealt with the loud creepy whispers.

Decisions, decisions... The man rooted through is emergency stash. He had another hit of something somewhere.

After-action thoughts, Kriff.

Defensively, unorganized masses are no issue for our forces. The combination of mechs have a surprisingly potent synergistic effect that breaks morale. In truth I doubt that even disciplined fighters could fight in the fog for long without being forced to retreat. The enhanced jamming effects from the Undertakers and Drowned Men are both synergistic and haunting. Combine this some deliberate terror tactics and you have a defensive formation that I'd have hesitated to assault even with my former forces. Bolt's creations have the trademark signs of a new mech designer eager to stand out, but that hides a very deadly specialty that I'm sure he's just beginning to flex.

The readiness is going to to be the problem moving forward though. This is both expected and frustrating. The forces I brought are recovering with remarkable speed, but the numbers we're seeing are at predicted levels. Keeping our defensive perimeter tight allows us to keep manpower costs manageable, yet every attack drains a bit more of our stamina and cedes initiative. After conversing with Venerable Lilly, we're going to be throwing our skirmishers into some extreme training and then letting them loose. Some early raids will be both good for morale and lay the groundwork for an elite skirmishing unit. That will likely become pivotal going forward.

Venerable Lilly and Venerable Pup continue to be both useful and pleasant to work with. I fully understand Pup's name now. I still dislike the lack of respect the name implies, but he does very much resemble the mechs he pilots. Every deployment so far has absolutely destroyed all attackers for relatively little cost. He's probably the most valuable on a wide scale look. Lilly in contrast can be flat out terrifying on a more local area when she wishes. Her versatility gives extreme options even if the cost of maintaining two expert mechs for one person is inefficient. I can be confident that if I give her a goal she'll accomplish it with efficiency and little management, which is not common for dealing with experts. I've frequently run into the problem where I have too many places to deploy her rather than needing to keep her back for a special occasion. It's a good problem to have really.

I have many unfamiliar tools that will take time to get used to truthfully. The designer Bolt specifically will take a lot of time to evaluate. There are currents around him that I'm just beginning to see, and they're far larger than this little planet. Aside from that, things are promising. The current threats are currently very manageable. This will fucking change. The mechs landing on the planet are only increasing. It is one thing to hear of the issue and another to see it. Some days the sky is covered in fiery trails. It is insanity and gives me a greater appreciation for the natives. They see this as nothing new, and that's both horrifying and reassuring in equal measure.

On a different note, we're still unsure what to do with captured pilots. Some of the better and more coherent ones will likely be offered a place, but only after being vetted by Lilly. The rest will probably be shipped off to whichever nation wants to deal with them. They'll likely be thrown on the front lines in crappy mechs and told to survive. I have no sympathy for them if so. The crimes list for some of them is likely long and sickening.

 

[Simonbob]

So drugged up that being beaten doesn't really matter.


All the terror tactics running head long into a tweakers head, and finding not enough to affect it is kinda hilarious.

 

[Golgotha]

Overconfidence may become an actual thing for Bolt's forces.
A combination of exhaustion and picking off people day in day out. You would get used to it, exhausted by it... then get very caught off guard when a force of actual elites come in and don't lose their head to the mind games.

 

[Rustic]

Thoughts on I022

Okay that cool and all. It was a good chapter. However my focus was on something else were the mundane military.

mechs work for those who have that special something. Even if the quality is low. What are the mundane military units doing? I want to see spider tanks and meks that are non neural helmet compatible with like a pilot, a loader, a navigator, and a gunner. The authors briefly bought it up a few seperate times he was going to do something for the barely there guys. That were the guard dog mechs came from. He also once brought up the mundane units equipment. But never again

I think neural helmets is a battle tech thing and Gundams. But this universe has there own special juju that keeps the masses under the boot of the elite

 

[lost star]

Bolt was rapidly coming to realize that there was a difference between designing and designing for war. That wasn't to say his mechs weren't capable. They were. He'd just come to realize that there were mistakes made, and he could not easily fix them. The techs involved had free time measured in minutes, and it'd only get worse over time. Any adjustments he ordered would have to be done accounting for both speed and cost. It was restrictive. It was also brutally showing him what limits were.

Fortunately his focus on rugged design and affordability made the mistakes he made relatively tolerable and something they could manage. Most of the issues were in unintended weak points, stress points, and what happened when a mech was run for awhile. The latter was probably the only thing actually new as a problem for him. Most Junk Mechs he'd grown up on weren't going to last awhile without attention in the first place. Some mechs in this war were being run continuously for days on end. It was giving him a lot of data as to what mechs could take over time and the difference between being designed for repair and designed for longlevity.

It was also putting him in a strange circumstance where he both had too much work and not enough. There was a lot of statistical data to parse and changes to make, and yet both things needed to wait for the appropriate time. Combine that with the two designers helping him and Bolt actually had a fair bit of free time. He'd decided to occupy that with a small 'field test' of sorts for the up and coming students.

"Ya'll are here because you want to be designers." Bolt told the class of teenagers in front of him.

The truck they were in rocked slightly as he spoke. All of the kids looked a bit nervous. Some looked green. A few looked eager as well. Bolt kept an eye on them all. This lesson wasn't pass or fail. It was just a lesson about mechs. Sort of a guest lecture if he were to be honest.

"So, in other places you're taught and stay in fancy and air conditioned rooms. Some people ain't even see a hint of dirt for their entire life, and won't know a wrench from a hammer." The designer continued with a small hint of amusement. "You all aren't gonna get that. You're getting a Wrench Rat special."

With those words the back of the truck opened up with a clang and splat. Mist flowed in and Bolt made his way out. Behind him, the kids lingered a moment before following. Some of them knew this a bit from family outings or lifestyle before they came to the mountain. Most of them had been raised up in the mountain and kept safe. Bolt was thankful for that, but that meant this was even more important.

Out here the mud was thick and knee high. It sucked at the boots and made movement hell. Bolt had his good boots on, and had made damned sure everyone else had their work clothes as well. The brown robes and masks were vitally important now even if they were heavy and cumbersome.

"Everyone get your masks on. The robes will block shrapnel, mild radiation, and casual mech scans." The young man ordered. "Masks and gloves serve double duty. Some mech battles cause toxicity in the air, and some things you salvage are lethal when inhaled or touched improperly. Whenever your outside and doing this, masks on, robes on, and if you can use a few scans to be sure there's nothing that'll kill you."

He waited a moment while his orders were followed. Then he nodded. The masks were self-sealing and very tolerance proof, so if they were on the head they would function. He slapped a few heads to be sure the things were properly settled before he gestured to the target.

Right next to the truck was a downed mech. It steamed just a bit from the residual heat still in the chassis. Several holes were through it's torso, and one of the arms was twisted off. This was a freshly killed mech. Next to it was a flat-bed hauler designed for pulling in downed mechs of this weight. Heavier ones needed different vehicles, depending on circumstances. At their tech level there wasn't an all in one solution like there'd be at Second Rate.

"Your job as a class is going to be to recover this and repair it!" Bolt called out. "Tis a frontline mech so it's within your abilities. We'll have a few techs on standby to assist when it's back at the base." He put his hands in his pockets. "Of course, you'll want to hurry. This is an active warzone after all."

On cue a deep thrum reverberated in the air as a rifle went off nearby. All the students cringed and ducked. Bolt stayed put and glanced around carefully as he projected all the confidence and calm he could.

None of it was fake, though not for the most obvious reasons. This was technically a warzone, but he'd made sure that the area was cleared. The frontline mech had been brought here and downed artificially. A few mechs were patrolling and monitoring the enemy movements, and they were actually very close to the mountain. The mist just made it seem like they were deep and in danger. The patrolling mechs were also unidentifiable from a distance as well. It provided a proper atmosphere in Bolt's opinion. To the students, they were alone, isolated, surrounded by looming mechs, and being shot at. (The pilots were messing with the students lightly on Bolt's request.)

"Be sure not to have the chains in the joints. Attach them to the struts or skeleton if it's exposed!" Bolt called out as the students frantically and sloppily tried to do as requested. "Haste is good, but care is better. You can take your limbs off if you aren't careful. All this can kill if you are stupid!"

He wasn't joking. He had several safeties enabled here, and was watching like a hawk, but there was still a chance of death if the kids were stupid. Bolt had learned in worse himself. This was as safe as working with heavy machinery could get. They knew the hardware, they were just doing it in tense conditions. This lesson wasn't to teach them how to salvage. It was to put some pressure on them and show them what war did to mechs.

"Hands!" Bolt snapped and strode forward before pulling a student away from a pinch point. "Watch them. That would have lost it." He said.

Very slowly the mech was chained up. Bolt watched it all critically and then adjusted a few places before stepping back. He gestured for the other students to do so as well, and then the chains started hauling the mech onto the bed.

Bolt examined them all after it was finished. Covered in mud, tired from less than an hour's worth of work, tense, and flinching at the stomps in the background. Not the worst condition. Some were worse than others. He made a gesture to leave and led them back to the transport truck. A quick headcount made sure he had everyone and Bolt settled down at the entrance as the vehicle closed up and began to move back.

"So, ya'll might be asked to do this again if we need hands, but it's not gonna be required." The man said after everyone had removed their masks. "Bucket over there." He gestured as one of the green students began to heave. "We ain't grading you on this or the mech repair. It will never be a grade. It'll be a pass fail where passing is just living another day. What ya get outta it is up ta you. Personally I'd keep in mind that a wreck like that is the fate of all mechs. We dress it up pretty and put on fancy terms, but at the end of the day yer in the mud, face down and dead."

"That's really grim." One of the students finally said.

"Making mechs is acknowledging that yer making weapons." Bolt tapped on the metal of the vehicle. "Ya'll could make trucks all day. Make people happy getting a sweet ride. Mechs are different. They're beautiful things, but they're ugly too. Ya gotta remember that. Yin and Yang as some people would say."

"If you're not grading on the mech repair, what's the point?" Another student asked.

Bolt shrugged before replying. "Point is ta teach you something. It's also showing ya how to work with your hands. We ain't fancy designers from some high tech college. You'll learn what we can scrounge up and what ya can get from practical lessons like this. This is a lesson that ya can take a lot from. Some of you won't be suited for the physical parts and that's fine. If you wanna sit in a chair and design all day that's perfectly acceptable. I got a place for ya, and I will try to help ya advance just like anyone else. Stuff like this is how I learned though and I expect you to know how to get your hands dirty sometimes."

The heaving student whimpered. "We almost got shot."

"Ask some of the vets how close ya can get to being shot and still live." Bolt advised before smiling just a bit. "Actually, I think I'll have some of the older guys do story time. I think you'll get a better appreciation fer things that way."

He restrained a chuckle at the slightly despairing looks they gave one another.

 

[Simonbob]

That's a teaching school that'll have some interesting graduates.

They're going to learn things that no Uni would teach, that's for sure!

 

[Pyro Hawk]

mechs work for those who have that special something. Even if the quality is low. What are the mundane military units doing? I want to see spider tanks and meks that are non neural helmet compatible with like a pilot, a loader, a navigator, and a gunner. The authors briefly bought it up a few seperate times he was going to do something for the barely there guys. That were the guard dog mechs came from. He also once brought up the mundane units equipment. But never again

I think neural helmets is a battle tech thing and Gundams. But this universe has there own special juju that keeps the masses under the boot of the elite

Click to shrink...

The problem with this is that's the thing of the faction that Gadget leans to, like how Bolt is 'covered' by the MTA. And more importantly, if you can have Mechs for the non-infantry and non-Warship/Strikecraft roles in combat, you want to invest all in on Mechs because they are just superior.