What's Junk? (The Mech Touch)

[lost star]

Bolt had a commission now! An interesting one at that. His wife wanted a mech built exclusively for her little project. He didn't actually need to do it, but the idea itself was interesting enough that he had no problems doing it. Amplifying the 'spook' factor of the surrounding area was another request that he didn't mind trying.

Doing the latter turned out to be the easier request of the two. A few dead mechs were dragged in and given some minor adjustments, then an Undertaker token was placed into them. The adjustments would keep the mechs running indefinitely so long as you topped them off every few days and the tokens would produce the appropriate effects they needed for the haunted battlefield. Eternally tortured mechs souls in a quagmire of death!

Bolt had taken care to make sure that there weren't actually spirits being tortured. Oddly he was pretty sure that several of the mech spirits in Mechalla were amused and able to slip into and out of the non-functional props. He wasn't really their boss or wrangler, so he let them have their amusements. If anything it would help the process.

That just left the mech design.

This part was going to result in a new style of mech. It wouldn't be a training mech. Those were for novices. It wasn't going to be a fully functional warmech either. Having something that could be used on the battlefield would be counterproductive truthfully. If someone ascended with the wrong attitude they could lose a few dozen people as they rampaged. Bolt would rather avoid that if he could.

Here Bolt decided to lean on the newest fad that had started to emerge with his work. The current thought was that if you found one of his or Ves mechs that synched with you, you had a better chance at ascending. Bolt figured that even if it wasn't true it'd be useful as a prop to help hone the mindset needed for ascension. His idea was to create a mech that could be modified on the fly to suit someone.

It was on the face of it impossible. Designing a mech for one person was a standard procedure. Designing a singular mech for everyone was completely impossible. Modular mechs were the types of mechs that came close, and those had to make harsh tradeoffs. Bolt was going focus on several things that would make it more theoretically possible.

One was fairly simple. Bolt didn't want perfect suitability for everyone. He wanted to adapt the mech to the pilot slightly. It had to give the person a good hint as to what worked for them. Anything more than that would be outside the exercise. This meant it just needed to adjust itself a little bit.

Two was the Heart System. Here Bolt was going to open up his little vault of Crystals. He had a lot of them, and this would let him offload a lot. As part of his manufacturing contract the Crystals came to him if there was no claim on them. Most were being claimed now, but he had about a million and would likely get more because there'd always be a few unclaimed crystals out there.

Bolt had planned to blend most of the less potent ones and store the resulting spiritual power for tasks, but this gave him a different idea. He'd blend a lot of them and create sort of 'archetype' energy flavors out of the resulting energy he'd harvested. A potentiate would walk through the halls and pick one that felt right. Then put them into the mech he was working on.

The mech design was going to be a bit different from standard stuff too. It was going to be modular, with a twist. What was key was a nanotechnology derived from Dowry. With the appropriate part and a service station, the part could be placed against the mech and it'd interface with minimal adjustments. It'd require an attending technician to help smooth things out, but it would allow one to take a base design and modify it into anything within an hour or so.

This was not a miracle tech. Bolt could already see that the modifications would be relatively fragile and not particularly robust. That was actually fine. This was a mech designed to let a pilot customize it how they wanted over time. That could even be part of the gauntlet! The comparative fragility and low performance was almost a bonus rather than a hindrance in this case. Every pilot would have to work to scrabble out the most from their mech.

So inspired Bolt began work on the design.

Key here was the material base. It wasn't the standard mech alloy. Even the inside skeleton wasn't the standard alloys. Bolt chose an off-white plastic / metal hybrid family of materials that was famed mostly for how adjustable it was. The color and choice was deliberate. This mech needed to be malleable and something that could be changed quickly.

Using this required some artful design. Mechs had been made with this particular hybrid composite before. The high adaptability and lighter weight made it useful for mechs that prioritized things other than durability. Many of the more fragile speedsters used it instead of the more durable stuff. None used it quite like what Bolt was doing. He had to reinforce several key areas and make sure there were plenty of areas for the nanomachines to interface with. There was also a lot of nanomachine programming that had to be done too.

The base part of the mech formed fairly quickly after this. It was a simple an almost manikin like design. This was just the framework though. What was next, and where the lions part of the work would be were the components and customizations. That was harder.

It was also something Bolt delegated to the computers and sims mostly. These programs weren't always trustworthy for mech design, but for this project they could be trusted. The design was actually very simple at base, and almost every sim could handle this sort of thing. There were far too many components for Bolt to really make himself anyway. He could have the computer push out what was needed and fix the most obvious mistakes. Considering how temporary these mechs were, any non-serious errors wouldn't crop up really. These mechs would have about a month's runtime.

Next was the spiritual background, and the most important part of the mech. Here Bolt took inspiration from Ves and his collaboration. He couldn't use the Heart System to calibrate things, that was technically tied up in the 'custom' crystal that the pilots would be taking. This mech had to reflect what was in the crystal. Hence there'd be small channels throughout the body that would focus and direct all the spiritual power. Theoretically it would all cycle through the system and reinforce the pilot's energy, thereby helping their mindset and focus towards what was needed for an ascension. (Bolt had a lot of data about ascensions due to his crystals. It was nonsensical stuff, but he could almost see a possible pattern.)

This would all require a lot of testing before it was ready. Bolt was looking forward to it really. So many theories could be tested at once!

 

[Golgotha]

The wand mech chooses the wizard pilot.

 

[Gilar]

Sweet,game machanics."Found better gun - lets swap your loadout right there".If this idea work out - it'll probably noticeably change human on human warfare.

 

[lost star]

The Haunted Battleground had given everyone a year before it officially started. This was due to a combination of many factors. Mostly to motivate interest and make the appropriate preperations. The sector's political landscape also needed to be taken into account. The war between the Friday Coalition and the Hexadric Hegemony was still hot at this point, but was reaching the final phases. It was a grinding, slow thing that would result in a lot of changes to the sector when it finally finished. The Hegemony was going to die. No one would morn it or could dispute that by this point. They'd gutted themselves by throwing half their elite into the Red Galaxy and abandoning the home front. Unfortunately that wasn't necessarily going to be a good ended. A civil war in the Friday Coalition was going to be more than likely, and people wanted to get ahead of that. Hence interest in the event was higher than it might have been.

It has to be said that Lilly's idea wasn't new. All nations had something like what she proposed. They were all either brutal, bloody, and horrifically inefficient or completely useless wastes of money. This one was only unusual in that it was promising to be relatively inefficient and safe for a Third Rate nation, which meant it was extremely cheap and mildly dangerous by galactic standards. If the Wrench Rats managed to get even one expert ascended they'd have a waiting list decades long. This assumed they'd achieved one. Most people were skeptical at best.

Mubarak was one of them. He was really only doing this because he'd been pulled in by rumors. His family was close to Bolt's apprentice, and as a pilot with some potential but little backing, he had relatively few options aside from joining the war. Truthfully had the planet not been situated in a decent place and Bolt had not had his current reputation he wouldn't have bothered. As it was, a few very minor favors had been traded to get him on the list and that was it.

Really he was regretting it a bit already. The seats in the shuttle were not comfortable at all. The thing rattled and creaked as it dropped from orbit to the area. He could even see rust here and there. Then the thing landed and he shook in the harness so hard he almost bruised.

"Exit." A voice groaned as the shuttle opened.

Mist poured into the area and Mubarak let out a sigh that was only a little bit shaken. Apparently they were starting now. He pulled off the harness and stepped out into mud. Several of his fellow pilots did as well.

There wasn't much to see. Only white light, mud, and a few facilities in the distance. A man in a cloak that covered everything waited for them. He chuckled as they approached.

"Yes, welcome." The voice changer did a good job Mubarak had to admit. Just slightly disturbing. When combined with how his face was covered in shadow and the enviornment was, this was genuinely good for a haunted atmosphere. "You are here to... Become something more."

"I swear I'll shoot someone if this is all that's here." One of the pilots muttered.

"It is not." The man breathed out and picked up a lantern. "This is simply the preparations and where you will stay for the first phase." He gestured.

Mubarak grimaced as he looked in that direction. He recognized them. Pre-fabbed standard barracks. The best one could say about them was that they were atmosphere controlled and you had individual rooms. The rooms were tiny and the beds were rather bad. The showers and toilets were communal. It was third Rate stuff that was considered near-hardship to any Second Rate man. Most of his fellow pilots recognized the setup too based on their looks. They were universally considered the smallest step up from bare minimum.

The largest problem was that they had no comms or entertainment built into this model. There didn't seem to be anything here either. Mubarak was already annoyed. His fellows were too. This wasn't non-standard for a training exercise like this, but no one necessarily liked this sort of thing.

With a laugh the guide gestured towards another light. "Follow." He began to walk through he mud.

A few people complained quietly, but most didn't. This was a positively tame introduction compared to other events. Those sometimes involved beatings or worse. (People did extreme things for power sometimes.)

"Your mechs." The man in the robe gestured. "They are called Unfinished Clay."

Mubarak stared at them. "What?"

"More will be explained in time." The man noted and continued to walk.

"What is that shit?" Someone asked. "That's not a mech. It's a manikin!" Mubarak had to agree, and several other people did as well.

Pilots could tolerate a lot. Mechs like this they couldn't. The things had no weapons, looked soft, and had absolutely no redeeming factors at all. The only good thing about events like this was typically the mechs.

"Hmmm." The guide paused as he gauged everyone's attitude. "I will show you something then. Someone step forward to claim this mech." He ordered.

Mubarak closed his eyes as no one did. He groaned internally and stepped forward. "I will." He said, mostly to keep things moving.

"Your favored weapon?" The guide asked. "Color of the mech?"

"Sand, scimitar." Mubarak answered immediately.

A scimitar was dropped right in front of the mech and it grabbed it through automated processes. Before Mubarak could scoff, he saw the colors and the arm shift. Armor started to form around the mech. Not much, but some.

"They are Unfinished Clay." Their host repeated. "You will be introduced to several local technicians that will help you do initial customization as one of your initial tasks. Once the month is finished you will be unleashed and must earn more through various tasks." For once the man didn't sound like he was doing a bit. This was just general information. Then he coughed. "It is but one burden you will be inflicted with."

Mubarak stared at the mech and then nodded. "I see. This does promise to be interesting then."

Even with poor performance, the change to customize one's mech didn't happen to mech pilots at his level. They made due with standard models they were assigned or could buy depending on circumstances. The Unfinished Clay model didn't need to be good. Every pilot practically dreamed of their own custom mech. Just a hint of this upcoming hardship almost worthwhile.

The other pilots obviously felt the same based on how they were eyeing the mech. Their guide didn't let them linger though. He moved to another area. As he walked the temperature dropped. Just barely below comfortable.

Mud changed to metal. Some sort of device made it so that their boots were clean several steps in. They clanked along the new path until they entered a place with a strange cooling glow. Here there were more rooms, all open, and all empty. They were just large enough to sit in, and held strange etchings inside them all.

"You will have three tasks. Prepare your mechs. Prepare your bodies." The guide gestured to a gym. "And prepare your wills." He gestured to the rooms. "In each of them you will find instructions to to the last part. To help you, you will have tools as well."

A massive set of locked doors stood at the far edge of the facility. It opened as he approached and Mubarak restrained a shiver. The temperature hadn't changed, but this felt ominous somehow. He wasn't the only one.

"In the instructions you will see references to crystals." The guide said as he walked into the vault and ran his one hand over them. "These are those crystals. Pick one, pick many, change your mind and grab another. It will only matter when you start, and then you must choose one."

Mubarak felt his skepticism return. Yet at the same time he had to applaud the atmosphere. This was a perfect setup for an ominous adventure. He'd give them a chance just out of hope that he wasn't wasting his time.

 

[Golgotha]

"You are going to need a shiny rock. I will not explain further"

Unfinished clay is seriously cool. I wonder how it sits on the nano-tech repair to spiritual influence venn diagram.

 

[lost star]

Unfinished Clay handled like a unicycle with weights on it. It handled like a camel weighed down by a boulder and intent on taking a nap. It was, in simple words, one of the worst mechs Mubarak had the displeasure of using. He'd thought some of it was because it was Third Rate, but the other pilots more used to Third Rate mechs reported similar dissatisfaction with it. Despite this, the thing was an odd joy to work with. Every time Mubarak took it out to practice he could return and adjust it however he liked. Getting just a bit more performance out of the mech was a genuine pleasure. He almost appreciated the mindset mech designers had now. Almost, because he was still a pilot at heart.

And as a pilot, he knew his duty here. That was to focus on the training. The pilots in this exercise had split into three general social groups as the month progressed. One group focused on the mechs. The had a limited 'allowance' every day to adjust their Clays. The pilots focusing on the mechs would take them out for practice repeated and slowly change the mechs.

The second group would be focusing on the mental training. Mubarak was part of that group, and truthfully he'd been very skeptical of it before he tried. The concreate exercises and specific observable milestones made him keep at it. At the bare minimum it helped calm his mind, focus his thoughts, and free his head from distractions.

He'd found he needed it as the days passed. After the first day he'd found tension starting to build in behind his brow and had started seeing things out of the corner of his eye. Something about the area made it feel like there were watchers everywhere. Only the mental exercises allowed him to push back against that and actually relieve the almost pain. Well that and the 'Isolation Rooms.'

Barren, devoid of anything but a mat, the Isolation Rooms cut one off from the outside world. They were functionally sensory deprivation chambers but with less technology. Basically you sat in them, closed the door, turned off the light, and focused. Meditation was encouraged, as was taking your chosen crystal in and doing one or two mental pushing exercises. Some of his fellow pilots had taken to just using them to catch a brief break. He wasn't the only one who'd found the atmosphere oddly oppressive.

Though things would have probably been better if some of the others had been more tense. The third group of pilots were the people half-assing the training. They were going through the motions, but it was the motions of pilots doing their duties. Not actually pushing themselves daily.

Mubarak had a sneaking suspicion that the trainers didn't care much. Several instructions had explicitly told them to go at their own pace. The words develop your will came up frequently. If the pilots didn't care, then the trainers didn't care. He also had a sneaking suspicion that the next phase of training would probably force the issue. He'd gotten a few hints from the one of the techs that'd helped him with is own mech.

"Next phase is soon." The young woman noted as she tapped at the controls and eyed the mech.

"We will have to earn something." Mubarak replied. "Might I request a hint?"

"Nope." The woman said with a headshake. "We shouldn't even be really talking, but we decided the spooky factor had to be dropped to make sure you get your mech right. Something ta account fer in the future."

"I appreciate it." The pilot breathed out and closed his eyes. "I'm getting enough jump scares from whatever is causing the illusions." Some part of him wondered if he was going insane really. None of the training he'd gone through had had this sort of result.

"Ain't nearly as bad as Cold Grave, but I get it." The tech said with a nod. "But enough 'bout that. Mech's mostly done. Cleaned up the lines and it's as good as it'll get before the next phase."

"That's good." Mubarak nodded and frowned. "Is there a reason you are just a mere technician?" He felt like he had to ask. "You have been doing good work."

"Grades were horrible, didn't wanna stick behind a desk, and really didn't think I wanted it. Last one was probably the biggest." The tech dismissed his words with a shrug. "Take yer boy out fer a spin and lemmie know. Then try ta get some sleep."

Mubarak stared at the woman before turning back to his mech. He understood a deflection when he heard it. Further pressing did feel a bit rude, and he wasn't here to have fun either.

The next day began only slightly differently. Mubarak and the rest of the pilots were put into their mechs and given a small task. It felt a bit disappointing, but he had signed up to try.

If he were to talk about this afterwards, Mubarak would have to mention the ever-present mist. In base and under the light it was relatively easy to deal with. You had enough visibility to navigate. Out in a mech and without the light you had vision of about an arms length. You had to rely on other sensors. This wasn't something people weren't trained for, but it made things feel claustrophobic. Sight was a mainstay of humans, and no substitutes could truly match it.

Mubarak had spent enough time in the mech adapt. He still felt icy hands wrap around his chest when the jamming started and hew as forced to deal with it jamming up everything. Instinct had him moving before consciousness followed. The lunging horror that attacked him clashed against his armor and drew a loud screaming shriek of metal on metal before he lashed out with his scimitar. Something flew through the air and he heard people firing.

"Too comfortable." A horrid voice drawled over his radio and Mubarak clicked it off be reflex.

It didn't help. The slight scraping sound and quiet shriek in the background made his spine shiver and he tried to block it out as he fought whatever it was. A few passes made him realize it was a Zombie. The knowledge didn't help, because normal Zombie mechs did not look so disturbing. The articulated and bloody looking jaw was not standard!

A few clashes of sword on club happened before me managed to hew something. The zombie stepped back and Mubarak panted. "Status!" He shouted on the mic.

Silence answered. Mubarak flipped through sensor inputs with manual presses of his fingers. Most of them reported nothing but sensor ghosts. Only one brought up his fellow pilots and he moved that way. He arrived just in time to see a Ghoul rip a cockpit out of a downed mech and eat it. The blood dripping from the cockpit made him slightly ill even as he charged at the mech with a shout, scimitar leading.

Minutes passed as he fought. Then hours. He lost track of time and the target. Clashes happened and his scimitar claimed more than one enemy. He truthfully could not tell who he won against or who he lost against. All he could say was that at some point he managed to make it back to base.

There was no one else there but him, the guide, and the tech he'd befriended. Mubarak didn't have the presence of mind to wonder why immediately. Later he assumed casualties. The oppressive isolation and atmosphere hadn't quite shattered his mind, but it was certainly making him act more on instinct than rational thought.

First phase done. Second phase starting! About half the pilots have been removed due to various disqualifiers. Deaths are around 5% and no casualties on our side, despite the close calls. All told, this is going pretty well. The remaining pilots have been separated into groups as planned and we'll start to increase the pressure. We're going to need to handle a lot of things differently in the next event, but at the moment it's all holding together fairly well. Be sure to ask for supplies if you need it, and watch your assigned pilots closely. We want them pushed, not broken or dead.

Of note, the Tomato Cockpits are working perfectly for the shock value and spoofing the navigation data has helped our coordination significantly. Keep up the good work all, and remember that if someone starts to spark ready yourself to eject! We're all monsters right now and heroes kill monsters!

-Lilly.

 

[Dan O'von]

Pfffffft!

"Tomatoe Cockpits" is an amazing idea. When you remove the ability to view fine details the brain certainly does a good job at filling the rest in.

 

[foo-jin]

Feels like there trying to bring the pilots to a primal state, bringing up their innermost instincts instead of measured reactions. I can see how that could help achieve a spark for some. It's going to be difficult to avoid people spoiling the surprise for the next batch, though.

 

[Pollyamorous]

There was no one else there but him, the guide, and the tech he'd befriended.

Click to shrink...

At first I was wondering how this would work since everyone was separated, since while each of the surviving applicants (really didn't expect any deaths, and while 5% is okay it's still more than I expected) will have their own personal techie, I didn't expect that the guide would be with him too.

Until of course I remembered something and went back to check on him, and...

A man in a cloak that covered everything waited for them. He chuckled as they approached.

"Yes, welcome." The voice changer did a good job Mubarak had to admit. Just slightly disturbing. When combined with how his face was covered in shadow and the enviornment was, this was genuinely good for a haunted atmosphere. "You are here to... Become something more."

Click to shrink...

Oh my god, that's why the guide is dressed up with the voice changer.

Because the guide that's staying with him isn't the same guide. All of the applicants get their own techie and guide, because the "guide" is just a uniform that the employees are wearing. Full cloak so you can't tell them apart from each other, there's a spooky voice modulator so both men and women can play the part, and their guiding when the entire group is there is just acting as a generic tour guide so that they don't show off too much personality and draw suspicion for the switch.

And when they were getting "lost", they were just herded around so each of the applicants were sent to different rooms to stay in, and since everything is prefabricated they won't even be able to tell the difference when they find themselves back at their "original" base.

 

[Pyro Hawk]

And when they were getting "lost", they were just herded around so each of the applicants were sent to different rooms to stay in, and since everything is prefabricated they won't even be able to tell the difference when they find themselves back at their "original" base.

Click to shrink...

I actually think that not all of the applicants were actually divided up - remember that what this whole thing is about is an effort to train Mech Pilots into becoming the type of pilot they wish to be, the one that suits them the most and then guiding them into breaking through to Expert if they manage to do well enough (and if the folks of Bloody Karma manage to actually follow the path that Bolt and Lily think they might have found) to pull that off.

Which is important for what the groups are like because there are many different types of Expert, as many as there are Mech Pilots, which include support roles that need other Mechs around to do well, Command Experts, combat roles that work together or benefit other parts of the force more than they are direct combatants themselves...

It's just our viewpoint is one that they believe will do best when isolated by himself for this next step.