What's Junk? (The Mech Touch)

[lost star]

To Bolt's mild entertainment, the designing station was right in the little pavilion. It was actually part of an entire system that could be adjusted. Basically a smart room that could become whatever they needed. It answered more than a few questions. They'd left it at park like settings just because it was casually novel and relaxing for all of them. It was just a background though. The designing was the important part, and everyone wanted to do it already.

"Here's the parts we have available." Gary began with a swish of his hand, and an entire list filled up a wall. "Exotics over here." He made another list.

"I'm compatible with the highlighted." Delicee noted while highlighting a significant portion of the parts, all business now that they were designing. "I'm unfamiliar with second rate design though. Too big for my usual tricks."

"Join the club. I'm mostly lost there." Bolt muttered as he tried to get an idea of what was available before closing his eyes and taking a breath.

"Going up a level in tech isn't something we can remedy quickly. I can select things if you like. I'm not going to be able to apply my specialty without my usual supplies so I'll have the time." Gary offered.

Bolt opened his eyes and shook his head. "No first, we need to go over the exotics together. You need specific exotics?"

"I can use chemicals, but they're not potent enough for real mech operations. Home had entire mountains of exotics that ate heat. Hence me needing this even at Second Rate." Gary fluffed his hood in emphasis.

"Understandable, I tried doing that with my own mech and hit that problem. I think I can bring it up. You'll see the issue immediately I think." Bolt brought up Undertaker. "One of my works. Third Rate, so sorry about that." While he wasn't ashamed of his work, it was decidedly low tech.

"Don't apologize. Designing with limited resources is an artform in itself. I actually love way you do forms." Delicee tapped and all of the sudden all of Bolts designs were displayed. "You have the soul of an artist. Actually, that needs reciprocation, here." He tapped and everyone's designs filled up the rest of the space.

The young designer took a moment to look over them. This was actually very interesting. Delicee's work was all space mechs, for what little that meant for multipurpose First Rate mechs. They were studded with stars and all had ranged weapons of various sorts. There was even a little video on each of them showing notable feats. Most of it wasn't as understandable as he'd like.

Gary's were easier to understand. Those were basically walking icicles or mountains. He favored very heavy mechs, and there wasn't a single freeze ray to his mild disappointment. Most of them actually didn't have any obvious frost effects at all.

"Huh. You designed your works to deal with cold rather than project it. I expected more weapons." Bolt observed after a few minutes.

"The exotics I work with can do offensive work. Most of my early designs were just to make the mechs function in the cold. I advanced when I figured out how it applied to other areas in mech designs." Gary tapped at the blueprint of Ghoul. "Yours is harder to pin down. A novice would say it's you having cannibal mechs."

"I'm never going to live that down." Bolt said with a sigh.

"Oh, don't feel bad. It's splashy and spectacularly risque! We can tell your specialty is actually quite subtle. I'd say the Cerberus has the clearest display of that. You haven't made a mech since you hit journeyman though have you?" Delicee asked with mild amusement. "None of these have that signature heft that Journeyman work has."

"I made one, but that's for my wife. She's an expert and it's not in the databases here yet." Bolt replied and ignored why that was the case.

That of all things he'd said got mild looks of surprise, and then a bit of flipping as the other designers looked for information. Delicee was the one to say something after the information was brought up. He'd found a video of her ascension. Someone had edited it very well. It looked far more dramatic than Bolt remembered, and he had no idea where they'd gotten the music. His fellow designer had a different idea about it.

"I am absolutely in love." Delicee declared once it finished. "That skill? That absolute showmanship? Oh to design for her. I don't even care that it'd be a Third Rate. If I could see her in a First Rate? Oh I'd die happy."

"Putting aside the inappropriate declarations, we'd probably be best served to let him do as much designing as possible. I remember my first real mech after journeyman and how much I needed to feel things out." Gary noted.

The other designer nodded. "Yes, you haven't flexed at all. You need to, and the Rim Guardians can foot the bill!"

"I'd rather we all work together. My teamwork still needs improvement." Bolt muttered as he switched the blueprint layers on Gary's mechs and flipped through them. "Hmm. I can see why you're going to have trouble here. I don't recognize half the materials on in your mechs."

"Local resources. You never realize how much you depend on them until you move halfway across the galaxy." Gary sounded more than a little frustrated.

Bolt felt irritated himself, but he couldn't actually address the issue. The list of materials they had access to with this challenge was expansive and unfamiliar to him as well. "Ug. Delicee, can you help identify something that will work with his style? I refuse to have someone here do substandard work, and I need to review everything to see what I can contribute. Give me thirty."

He was actually pretty appreciative of the way the other man jumped on it. Both of his companions for this had egos, but it felt as if they were also willing to work with others too. The low stakes and purpose of the group probably helped a lot there. Bolt could see their brilliance based on their designs, so it meant a lot that they were willing to just, well be nice and try to work with him. He was going to do his best here just because of that.

Thirty minutes was nothing in the grand scheme of things. It most certainly wasn't enough to get himself up to speed technically. Second Rate was an entirely different paradigm of technology. Bolt would need to learn parts and costs from the ground up if he wanted to make a mech from that type. It wasn't his purpose here though. He was going to try to flex other parts of his specialty. All he needed to do was get a handle on the other designer's specialties. Class Ones were supposed to be really good with others right? He just had to be careful not to 'eat' the others. (Which he suspected was just making sure they made sure their work wasn't overridden by his, hopefully.)

"Found something usable of sorts." Delicee said after the time was up.

"This isn't optimal, but I can work with it." Gary agreed as he brought up the exotic component specifications.

The exotic was almost a liquid in that it flowed like a liquid sometimes. It could change from a solid, to a liquid, to what amounted to flowing shattered glass in a second. When it changed phases it stored or released energy depending on the phase. The stuff was barely controllable, but had some use in mechs when appropriately leashed. Called Flowing Ice, it was nasty nasty stuff in the wild and subsequently rather expensive as a Second Rate compound.

"All right, so my thought was we do a heavy. That's something yer very good with Gary." Bolt nodded at the heavies on display. "That's not something Delicee is good with, but he can do the weapons. Most of your stuff does orbital shots so you can do something long range." He gestured to a video of an a laser changing direction mid-flight.

"That is a good basis, but there's the problem of applying our specialties together." Gary noted.

"I can smooth over most of them I think." Bolt offered. "The tricky part is we need to coordinate. I have some understanding of your work and will need you to walk me through the mindset some. That's the whole unification thing I put in that description."

The other designers were smart enough to understand he was keeping some things close to his chest. At the same time they didn't seem to mind. If anything they seemed both amused and eager to get started. He felt the same way. They weren't competing per-say, but he wanted to sort of show off some. They likely felt the same way.

 

[lost star]

Second Rate mechs were different than Third Rate. By necessity Third Rate mechs were best described as mechs designed to work with the bare minimum of resources. They had a very narrow focus, a limited space, and were extremely frugal in exotics. Second Rates were typically able to handle at least two roles, could fly for a few minutes, and could work in space, all in the same design. They also cost more. Really, the best way to describe it was a standard Second Rate mech cost and worked like an expert mech from a Third Rate nation.

This was a base and generic comparison. It assumed the designers and pilots were the same. There were bottom of the barrel Second Rate Mechs that could only trade three to one. There were high quality Second Rate mechs that could utterly trounce any number of Third Rate mechs. Pilots would alter the equations dramatically as well, and this was typically more culture and practice than training. Second Rate nations liked to boast they had the best training, but experience and attitude mattered more than anything else. It was a known fact that you could train up Third Rate pilots and they'd perform identically to Second Rate. It just took some time and you needed to have pilots with good potential. (Third rates used D and higher. Second needed Cs. First Rates didn't bother with anything below B.)

Bolt was actually getting a demonstration of that disparity here. Delicee was a designer from a First Rate nation. He had an implant that would take Bolt a decade of saving up MTA credits to afford. Using that allowed the man to create a mech and upload it to the designer they had in seconds.

Gary still found plenty of things to fix and adjust. Delicee's focus had been mostly space mechs, and he was too used to First Rate mechs. This again showed an implants power. The blueprint flickered repeatedly as the two bounced ideas back and forth using their implants. Some trends emerged. Delicee loved to add more stuff. Gary was more restrained and very typically had to remove things to make the overall mech work.

Amusingly, that left Bolt to do a lot of the form factor and make the big decisions. He was thankful that he could still be useful here. He changed the outside appearance and design, made decisions on where they were going, and also did point out a few things here and there too. Their implants helped with designs and calculations, it didn't always catch mistakes. (GIGO still applied.)

Their target was a few simulated super beasts in a simulated jungle. It was a noted flex of technological might. The Rim Guardians were spending who knows how much resources to give them a small and inconsequential contest. Bolt still found it entertaining and less stressful than the other things he'd encountered in the trip.

Their mech was a heavy. Since Bolt wasn't the lead, he didn't go with his usual themes. Their initial thought was to go for a cold giant monster instead. A thing from outer space, icy and malevolent. It looked like a horror monster. (Delicee loved it, Gary was repeatedly rolling his eyes under the hood every time the flamboyant designer added another detail.)

This decision was mostly because Gary loved using thick armor with high power generators. His default mode to using his specialty was using endothermic reactions to cool the mech and give him more leeway in other matters. It was not a visible or flashy way of working. It did give his mechs the ability to run at surprisingly high output for significant periods of time. Heat management was core to a mech and his specialty lent itself very well to that.

Delicee worked on the rifle they'd decided to integrate with the system. It was a relatively thick thing that used the heavy's output to support it. It wasn't a particularly novel weapon, but the 'elephant gun' was likely going to be able to down nearly anything if it hit, and he could easily make it hit.

It was also boring and really didn't show off his specialty at all. The designer wasn't complaining, but Bolt certainly didn't like it. He wanted more than just functional!

Bolt stared at the design as it formed and took a step back as he thought on it. Then he reviewed his teammate's works again. They barely noticed, still focused on other things. He looked at the details of everyone's previous design and then frowned. "Delicee, mind verifying a few calcs?" He wrote out a few equations.

The numbers made the designer pause in consideration. "What in the world?" He asked. "You managed to pick that up?"

"Gary. Got some for you too." Bolt wrote out more theoretical propositions.

"No." The designer immediately said after a single glance.

"Damnit, I wanted to make a black hole gun." The young designer said.

"You wouldn't believe how many people want to do something similar." Delicee brought up a few videos of the attempts. "Really, the largest problem is that it's only possible to do at First Rate. Anything lower than that is just sort of cost prohibitive at best."

"I wouldn't say we can't here." Bolt hummed to himself and sketched out few designs. "The physics feel like their possible with some work. And I'm sure if we combine our specialties we could do it. Just gotta figure out the exact angle."

Delicee and Gary looked at Bolt as he worked and then seemed to exchange messages between them. Then the First Rater nodded. "Would this help?" He projected a few math concepts detailing space and time combined with gravity onto their shared display. The equations were rather dizzying to behold but Bolt managed to get the general concept even if a lot of it was beyond his ability to calculate with just his mind.

"Curvature is good I think. Sorry, I need to bring up a calculator ta really read this." Bolt replied as he started to get into the idea. "We need to build up the gravity sheer. Then sort of pull in? Endokinetics is mostly pulling in heat anyway."

"That's a simplified way of putting it." Gary commented dryly. "I'd need some physical connections. I think... Yeah I see where you're going with that." He observed before creating a sketch of a device that would pull in heat.

"Let's make a chain here with that. Ball and chain isn't really a mech weapon normally, but we do the ball like this." Bolt changed the object into a ball and then added the chain before attaching it to the mech.

Delicee's eyebrows raised. "Your math is completely wrong, but it might be possible." He acknowledged with some surprise.

"We're going to throw black holes!" Bolt declared with amusement.

Gary sighed as he kept running numbers. "Calcs are saying we aren't. We need just a bit more pull for it to work as a weapon." He pointed out with clear disappointment.

"Put them on screen?" Bolt asked and then winced at the equations provided and the clearly highlighted defect they had. "So it won't pull in enough?"

"There's a threshold that we have to hit to make it viable." Delicee observed with a sigh of his own. "Pity. I could do this with Fist Rate materials, but that'd defeat the point."

"Other problems too. Power requirements are higher than a ball and chain can support. The chain will also break if it does work. It will also be explosive enough that we need reinforcement over everything, which might cause issues." Gary did sound disappointed as he listed the trouble.

The young designer eyeballed the device and ran through a few mental estimates. "I think I can get it to work. I'd need to physically assemble it and we'd need to switch it to a very large mace-like design. We're going to need some Third Rate efficiency in the design too. Strip out everything but support for this weapon."

"You think you can make it by hand?" Gary asked incredulously before shaking his head. "Well why not? It's easy enough to test." He tapped at something and a door opened up.

"Hmm?" Delicee made an inquiring noise.

"It's a known thing sometimes. Some specialties are like that in Second and Third Ranks." Gary replied with a small shrug as they walked through the door.

"Ah, and Bolt here is an omni-disciplinary Type One so he can do that." The First Rate observed. "You're actually fortunate there. First Rate designers have more exotic specialties, but that's partially because you have so many options it's impossible for even an enhanced designer to learn them all. You on the other hand can start broad and narrow down as you advance if you need to."

"That's interesting to know. They don't advertise that do they?" Bolt asked and got a laugh in return.

Through that door were their parts, already made. Bolt was mildly surprised. Even knowing that they could make parts instantly it was still a bit shocking to see how quickly the parts had been made. That did make it easier for him though. All he needed to do was assemble them all together and focus. The only complication was he needed to borrow Gary's gloves because several parts were freezing due to exotics.

Well that and he wasn't sure how much 'psionics' he should display. All he really wanted to do was add a bit more strength to the pull. The goal was basically have the ball draw in everything it could with artificial gravity. Then the when the ball impacted something it would release the accumulated matter and energy. They'd obviously need to workshop the idea, but that was the general thought process behind the concept.

Bolt just decided to focus and let things fall where they would in making it. He wasn't even sure he could do what he wanted. This was pushing his abilities in an admittedly strange direction. It was experimenting quite a bit really. Which was honestly fine here.

The assembly itself only took a few minutes. With the parts already made it was just slotting them into the proper area and having it welded or bolted into place. He didn't even have to tweak much. Just a few wires here and there, and adding more insulation. Soon he had a rather ominous looking mace. He and Delicee had been a bit enthusiastic in making it look deadly.

"It shouldn't have that much of a change in throughput based on what you did, but I can almost feel that it will work now." Delicee observed once he was finished. "Huh. There is something to making it yourself. I learned something today!" He clapped his hands theatrically.

"Proof is in startup, not in feelings." Gary pointed out.

"Out of the room first." Bolt ordered everyone, and they seemed bemused at the order.

Outside they started up the camera and then started up the device in the ball. With an almost ominous hiss that was audible through the camera, the ball went dark as the gravitational effect activated. All three designers stared at it with glee. There was something special about knowing you'd successfully made a dangerous weapon.

"We're going to have to revamp the rest of the mech to use this aren't we?" Bolt mused as he stared at the active weapon. A weapon like this was more explosive ordinance attached to a stick than a mace.

No one minded the added work. Redesigning the mech to handle the new weapon required some significant reinforcement. True to Bolt's words they had to strip most of the typical functions a Second Rate would have. This mech would do one thing very well. It would crush things with the hammer.

This did necessitate they drop the monster appearance and switch it to something else. They ended up doing something a bit silly with it.

 

[lost star]

As a faction in the MTA, The Rim Guardians lacked the full might of the organization. If one were to be brutally honest, they were basically on the bottom. Their stated goal was helping the poorest of the galaxy after all. This meant that their best relationships was with the poorest parts of the galaxy. That was not conductive to gathering power, so they were solidly at the bottom organizationally. This was compared to other organizations. They were still a part of the MTA, and many members were also parts of other organizations. It wasn't uncommon for many masters to be part of multiple groups. This meant that the Rim Guardians easily surpassed any other nation's influence and power.

For Bolt and his teammates, this just meant they had an on call pilot who was capable of handling any second rate mech. The one picked was an elite MTA pilot and his name was Joe. And yes he'd heard all the jokes. He'd also done this sort of thing many times before. The organizers of these events liked to switch it up every month and do something different, but a lot of them did need a few pilots willing to try out janky mechs. He was on the list for it.

It wasn't the worst duty in the world. The Rim Guardians only accepted Journeymen and above talent wise. This meant that the mechs would always function. They'd sometimes be pretty strange, but they'd function. Doing contests for some junior initiates was generally an exercise in frustration and pain for anyone epxerienced.

"They really did add an excessive amount of warnings to this." Joe observed as he reviewed the documentation before shrugging and filing the thing under the 'kids making big booms' mental drawer.

Designers loved to call themselves rational and educated, but when push came to shove they frequently just slapped more explosives on the weapon and called it a day. This was doubly true when they had a functionally unlimited budget. The mech he'd been given, named imaginatively Monster Hunter, wasn't even in the top ten of unusual mechs he'd dealt with. It actually wasn't even in the top one hundred since it was upright and walked properly.

It looked interesting at least. The colors and lines they'd used to make the armor made it look like some savage in a bone outfit. The mace completed the look. It was, if you wanted to be silly, an unga bunga mech. You'd think it was a Third Rate mech based off the design and the lack of ranged weapons. It had decent flight time, sensors, and armor, but the rest of it was pure focus on melee.

This wasn't a bad choice, the pilot had to admit as he settled into the cockpit. The scenario was fighting beasts. The sim wasn't going for complete fidelity, but most giant beasts were heavily armored and all close range. You either needed a very heavy gun, an immense amount of firepower, or a good melee weapon to fell them. Since he was solo the last option was the best.

Monster Hunter started with a purr and Joe grinned just a bit. Very smooth startup and movement. The designers were some of the better ones. It didn't hold a candle to a First Rate MTA mech, but he'd been trained for everything. This was up there performance wise for Second Rate. Impressive for a quickly designed mech.

He hefted the mace and then frowned slightly. The weight was off. It was too light for your standard mace of this size. With a mental sigh he recalled the briefing again. Then held the mace very far away from his body and activated it. He loathed testing experimental weapons.

Instantly the area around the mace turned black. The mace grew heavier. The wind howled as it was sucked in. Joe stared at the monstrosity with a bit of alarm and flicked it off. In response the mace exploded as it released all the accumulated matter and energy.

Joe felt his eyebrow twitch a bit. They'd armored the hands explicitly for this from what he could tell, so the damage to his own mech was just a bit of scorching. That was still excessive, and the lethality was supposed to scale based on how long the mace was 'charging.' The complete focus around the weapon made a lot more sense now.

"Madmen, the lot of them." The pilot muttered out loud. He knew this was being recorded and he didn't care. Something like this needed to be called that.

With another mental sigh the pilot stared to walk through the simulated terrain. He was in a forest of sorts. It felt a bit familiar, but that was just because these places were more common than you'd think. Trunks large enough for mechs to take cover behind, vines so thick a person could walk on them, heat and rain everywhere. A giant's hunting ground. Complete with animals fit for giants.

Like the one that met him.

It was not a particularly creative specimen. A rhino made large and with bony armoring. It would have been a nightmare for most mechs to fight solo. The way it charged forward ignoring everything indicated that it had enough plating to probably shrug off anything but artillery shells.

Joe was rather glad they'd programmed the simulation before they'd gotten the mech. He activated the mace. The sudden weight felt almost reassuring as he measured the distance. One second. Half second. In range.

The mace swung around with a screaming howl. It impacted the side of the beast's head. He could feel the arms strain as an explosion and weapon met the momentum of the monster and won. The thing staggered to the side and he was able to just barely sidestep around the mass of its now dazed form as it tumbled to the ground in a stunned heap.

He reactivated the mace and let it charge up as the beast recovered. This was a slow and steady sort of battle. He'd broken the plating on the side of the head, nothing more. Fortunately it wasn't a smart beast. A smarter one would have fled from the screaming weapon he was using. The simulation had just had it set to charge forward, so that was what it did.

Joe could have repeated the action. He was curious as to how the weapon performed when it was charged for more than a few seconds. He waited and dodged. The beast attempted to kick him then, in a slightly surprising change of behavior.

Fortunately he was in a heavy. The impact striking at his armor dented it but did little to change the performance. As the animal bucked and tried to gore him he decided his weapon had charged up enough. He didn't bother aiming for something special. He just slammed it into the head of the beast.

The explosion was both satisfying and more than a little dangerous to him. It absolutely shattered the reinforced skull of the beast. Half of it was burnt, and his mech's arms rocked enough that he felt it a bit through the cockpit's compensation. Half his mech looked like it had gotten scorched when the visual sensors came back on. The armor handled it just fine, but if he'd charged it more he half expected that he could have damaged himself.

Joe stared at the dead beast and ran a system report. The damage was all cosmetic fortunately. He turned his attention to the mace and examined it with a critical eye. They'd managed to make it so that it didn't damage itself on impact, but he wondered how well it would hold up after a few more hits. The forces involved seemed barely tamed. It was Second Rate right? If they ironed out the flaws it would be a horrifically dangerous thing for this level of tech and this was coming from a pilot used to First Rate MTA mechs.

He turned back to the body of his target and then realized a small problem. He just recalled that the 'explanation' for the scenario was looking for prizes. Typically that meant you wanted the head. That was very hard to do when it was all in little pieces. Oops. Joe stared at the gore for a bit before he shrugged. He had about three more beasts to find. It just meant he couldn't hit their head with the weapon.

So far as problems went, it was mildly amusing at worst. The weapon was actually more of a threat than the monsters in this mech. Monster Hunter indeed.

 

[lost star]

If they were going to be honest, Bolt and his allies had a low opinion of their work. Sure they'd succeeded, but the weapon system had shown itself to be flawed and cumbersome. There was potential there. It just needed a lot of work before it'd be useful. Work that they couldn't do. They'd had fun at least, and seeing the mech in action had been very thought provoking.

"Pity we can't actually fix it after this." Gary said once the contest was over.

Bolt had to agree. Making it had taken all three of them working together. Refining it would require the same. He simply didn't have the time. He was sure the others didn't either. They were all busy people. Delicee especially was basically slumming it, and working with Second Rate technology was a bit beneath his level. He wasn't being offensive about it, but both the other designers knew what the difference was like. Bolt worked with Third Rate tech. Gary was the only one that could potentially use it, and he was very obviously too occupied with other stuff.

"We all learned something I believe!" Delicee declared. "Grasp the inspiration you get from both heaven and earth tightly!"

"In other words you enjoyed it and got something out of it." Gary translated with a small smirk.

"You did not?" The other designer asked with dramatically wide eyes.

"I picked up some things." Bolt commented softly.

"I think we all did." Gary said with a nod of his own. "Like our dramatic one says, you take what you can get."

With that, the three walked out of the room. The secretary was there waiting for them, still holding that cheerful customer service smile. Surprisingly, it seemed relatively sincere. Bolt figured she had a good job here and the goal was something agreeable as well. He was in a generous enough mood to assume good intentions rather than anything else.

"I hope you enjoyed yourself. Some Rim Guardian credits have been allocated to your account. Please feel free to keep them or spend them at your leisure. A catalog has been sent to your account detailing the purchases you can make." The woman said with a small bow once they came into sight. "As you are probably aware, the Rim Guardians focus on protecting the areas towards the edges of the galaxy. They are frequently neglected and ignored. The MTA does of course try to assist, but their resources are tied up in many tasks, so it falls upon others to fill in the gaps. The Rim Guardians are an officially approved organization that tries to coordinate and encourage all forms of aid."

"Mailing lists, contests, and occasional actual aid to others." Delicee added with a wave of his hand and lowered his voice theatrically. "They're the runt of the MTA, but they're also the only one that's worth something if you want to work away from the core."

"While I would not phrase it like that, they are the only group that deliberately pays attention and offers regular humanitarian support and aid to Third Rate and below areas. They are also the only group that pays attention to those considered lower than Third Rate." The woman countered with a slightly less pleasant smile and something that was not a glare but implied one.

"Ahaha." Delicee laughed. "Don't get me wrong! I am a member. I am in fact a contributing one! I wouldn't be here if I didn't support them!" He almost apologized with a wave of his hands.

"Let's not antagonize the help." Bolt interjected dryly before frowning. "So, to clarify, they are an organization? What about factions? What's the difference?"

"Ahhh, internal MTA politics. Come, we don't want to take up this lovely lady's time any more than we should." The man gestured out the door.

A few second later they were in a cafe of sorts. It was a room with a few coffees and a chairs. It was also private. Delicee had paid for it all before Bolt could even figure out the price. Gary had ordered hot coocoo. Bolt, completely unsure what to get, had somehow ended up with something that was cream, sugar, and maybe coffee.

"So, factions in the MTA, and the CFA are complicated. Extremely so." The man lectured with an almost serious expression. "On the surface it's simple. You have political factions and organizational factions. The political factions are roughly organized around Star Designers and God Pilots in the MTA. In the CFA, they're arranged behind Admirals. Organizations are organized around official MTA approved actions and help direct their resources more efficiently, at least that's the official statement."

"Makes sense." Bolt said with a nod and sipped at his drink. "I looted an alien place and was told that aligned me with something." He sipped again and then frowned down at the beverage. He had no idea what to think about it.

"It did somewhat. The Star Designer Xenotechnition has a following dedicated to looting and exploiting alien technology. I do hope you got it checked over. The aliens love to leave hidden traps." Delicee said with a bit of concern.

"I did." Bolt confirmed before setting aside his abomination of whatever it was.

Gary gave a small snort. "You likely did more than that based on your expression, but good on keeping it close to your chest."

"Yes. I want to say we are friends, but we do have our own interests and some friendships are best served by distance. Continuing, there's a lot of interplay between factions and even the MTA and CFA. Unless you have an ear to it, it's going to be opaque to outsiders though. Many people are members of multiple factions and organizations so it's impossible to set clear lines anyway." Delicee gave a delicate shrug and sipped at his latte. "At the level of Journeyman it's best to signal your alignment by joining an organization like you've just done. Seniors and above will give you ways to gain favor and try to orient you towards like minded people as a method of recruitment. It's rather free form and nearly everyone has more than one group they favor."

"He's making is sound more friendly and intuitive than it is." The designer in the cold weather gear interjected. "There are conflicts, and harsh ones."

"I wouldn't deny that. They do try not to let it escape internal channels. They don't always succeed." Delicee continued to sip with a small look of contemplation towards the heavily dressed man. "I'm assuming you got caught up in one of those disputes?"

"Something like that." Gary didn't offer to elaborate and they dropped the topic before things got awkward.

Bolt checked his comm quickly and blinked. "They're already sending me things." He observed. "All missions to loot alien graves." It was a surprisingly large list.

"Feel free to not answer, but I'd guess that your specialty benefits from exploring scrapyards and battlefields?" Delicee asked while carefully setting down his cup.

"I think so?" Bolt replied with a grimace. "I literally just advanced and can't say specifics as I don't know them yet."

"Those are tests with rewards. It isn't uncommon for MTA officials. They love to dangle offers that both push promising Journeymen and gives them a feel of your character. Had plenty of those right after I advanced. They taper down as years pass, but only go away if you stop showing promise." Gary informed the other man and finished his coocoo with a quiet sip.

"Ah to be young and recently advanced. You feel on top of the galaxy and will become the next Polymath, and then you realize it's going to be decades of hard work at the minimum. Take it from me Bolt, do more than work and keep it slow and steady. Heavens know how many promising Journeymen burn out after ten or twenty years." Delicee said with a small laugh. "But yes, that's what's going on. Accept what you can when you can. Most designers learn to take the long view by necessity, so they won't demand urgency. Rim Guardian missions will be risky, but they'll be worth it if you are careful."

"I will look into it once I sort out the transporting issue." Bolt muttered with a small wince as he browsed the catalogs. "Ships are expensive and I don't want to hire people all the time."

"You'll still need to hire people. Ships need pilots and maintenance. The Rim Guardians are actually extremely good for that. The MTA official catalogs only offer top of the line things. The Guardians can offer you contacts to more local resources." Gary informed the other designer. "It will still expensive, but affordably expensive. You don't want a first rate ship. You want a ship that will work for you."

"That is something I wouldn't know. I have a personal automated ship that does everything I need." Delicee shrugged.

"Rich boy." Gary deadpanned, and got a laugh.

"Wonder if there's ship building stuff in here." Bolt switched to the Rim Guardian's catalogs. "My little sister wants ta do that over mechs. I'm so disappointed."

His companions chuckled at the small joke. "If she's as brilliant as you she should be fine no matter what. If you want that best, that's CFA material." Delicee informed him with a bright smile. "You can actually pay for public lessons. They're nothing compared to the internal tech, but they're heads and shoulders above everything else. She'll have no shortage of work and prestige that way."

"That's all First Rate and expensive. You'd be best served to inquire with the Guardians again. If she has enough potential they'll actually scramble to get a good setup for her. Getting promising talent to an eager teacher is worth a lot of favors on both ends." Gary added.

"Sounds like something to look into." Bolt paused as he saw an entry. "Huh, CFA offers a test to join? Didn't know that." It cost CFA credits, but it was available.

"It's biased against anyone born on a planet. Don't bother." Delicee's statement was surprisingly definite, and the man ordered another latte immediately after speaking. "If your sister dreams of that, then you'll need to do them a favor to even get a fair chance."

"They say they only care about ability, but that's a blatant lie." Gary muttered with something resembling anger. "Most of their people are asses to anyone not space-born too."

The First Rate designer nodded his head and sipped at his new latte aggressively. "I hate to agree. There's some people that are fine and upright, but the culture there is..." He trailed off and took another angry sip.

Conversation drifted a bit here and there after that to keep the mood from dropping. Mostly inconsequential things about mech design and technology in general. Delicee had strident and strange opinions on space combat. Gary had a very large bias towards heavies and extremely armored creations that was at serious odds to the other two. Bolt just enjoyed talking with people that could keep up with him. The two had advanced around his age and had been in business for more than a few years by this point. They were slightly more senior peers. The meeting was nice enough that they exchanged contact information and promised to stay in touch.

It made the end of the trip surprisingly pleasant.

 

[lost star]

"I had expected more trouble." Bolt observed once he'd settled back in on Blubbles' ship and they began to leave MTA's territory.

"Being polite and willing to work within the system tends to keep the obvious trouble away. With you officially registered I can handle most of your MTA contact now, which will keep the less obvious problems away as well because most reports will route through me." The senior said as she brought up a familiar looking hologram. "Now I get you home and you can pretend you're a nice normal Journeyman."

"Why am I detectin' some sarcasm there?" The young man asked with a half frown.

Bubbles batted her eyes. "I have no idea what you mean. I'm more focused on the funsies! We're going over Morning Star. Once we're done we can order the appropriate materials and get it done right when we arrive. That will conclude the last part of official business."

There were a lot of questions he wanted to ask about what had happened. There were far too many things that were going over his head politically. At the same time Bolt figured that there was precious little he could do about it. All he could do was address what was in front of him.

Morning Star did need a rather large touchup admittedly. His inspired design for her had resulted in issues in more than a few places. The largest one was that according to the techs back home, fixing her was an absolute nightmare. The wings and armor required some revised documentation and designs to make them less of a pain. If they weren't, she'd be something close to a Hangar Queen, and no one wanted that. (Except maybe Morning Star.)

Fortunately addressing that shouldn't be that difficult, just time consuming. It might not even be necessary to get to it immediately. They were going over the entire design right now so things were going to change. Starting with the largest performance issue that had been found.

"Need ta revise the weapon system completely." The designer started with a sigh. "That's a failure."

"Don't be too hard on yourself. You're not used to what an expert mech needs for offence. It's really common when you get into exotic weapon configurations." Bubbles consoled. "My suggestion is that we remove some armor on the gauntlets and add some specialized capacitors. They'll store the electricity and give more burst to the entire system. Also, we're adding spare daggers. That part I heavily advise."

Bolt agreed and made the notes on their planned revisions. "We can store them on the inner part of the wings. There's six on each gauntlet because that was the best balance of number and force. The base charge can only throw so many without degradation in some area. I thought the Gluttony system could handle rearming, but it's too slow when you need daggers now."

"Ammo is something you have to account for on all mechs to be fair. We don't want to overcompensate and add too much either." Bubbles sketched a few quick changes before moving on and highlighting a few areas. "I'm going to show you what a Senior can do by touching up the Envy and Sloth systems. I'd like more information on Greed before I start though. I see the physical parts in the feet, but mechanically they shouldn't work." The senior said while flipping through the blueprint layers.

"Shit." Bolt muttered and frowned at the hologram. "You have my old notes?"

"Some. Your naming sense is horrid by the way." Bubbles brought up a series of files.

"I want to dispute that." The designer shot back with a fake scowl. "I can't use the word spiritual on this, so let's call this the psionic layer of the mech." He switched to a layer of the blueprint just showing the outline. "Actually, let me try something. Could I get a pair of glasses? As basic as you can, and just clear glass."

A few seconds later a rather cute and pink pair of glasses appeared next to Bolt. The young man sighed at the design and held them in his hands. Bubbles already knew about this, so the MTA likely had an entire report on him, so there wasn't a point in hiding this ability. It was extremely taxing and hard to do without tools or supplies though.

"Oww." Bolt winced at the flash of pain when he was finished. He'd gotten close to straining himself again. "Put that on and look at the blueprint."

With bemusement the woman did and then her eyebrows raised. She pulled the glasses down and then pulled them up again. She did that several times while Bolt closed his eyes and let the headache fade.

"Interesting." The senior said.

"That, based on my guessing, is the psionic layer of a mech that is applied when the mech is built. Those glasses also just show things based on your interpretation, so I'm not sure how useful it is to show you this. I actually found that feeling mattered more than sight to me. I'm showing you because it gives us a base to work with." Bolt explained.

With a nod the senior turned to Bolt and paused before lowering the glasses again. "It confirms psionic presence in the design, but the need to interpret things hinders it's use so I agree it's not extremely helpful. By the way, you have a refinery in your head."

Bolt chuckled. "Yeah, that tracks. Lilly saw an ouroboros. Like I said, personal views matter a lot I think. So, let me try something." He began to write out things on the blueprint. "I'm going ta have to use my own notation. Spirit, er psionic constructs work in ideas rather than physical parts. You can make a lever, but it would be the idea of a lever. That's important because I did seven sins and called the mech Morning Star. That resonates with a human idea to create a unified form and aligns the concepts together in a unified theme that is greater than the sum of it's parts."

"We're going to have to workshop at lot of the terminology, but..." Senior Bubbles stared at the blueprint through the glasses again. "I'm actually seeing something different now. Intriguing."

They eventually had to start creating their own terms and calculations. This actually wasn't that unusual. Many Journeymen and Senior designers had to do that to estimate and simulate the functions of their more unique works. Bubbles ended up leading Bolt through the process and he picked it up quickly, even if spirituality tended to be a bit fuzzy around the edges. Since it worked a lot more off ideas and concepts rather than direct one to one functions, it could waver a lot. Some of it could probably still be calculated. They just needed tools that Bolt couldn't provide at the moment. This again was something most designers eventually got into. Seniors and above could spend years just measuring various outputs of their own designs.

"This is something you're going need to address in your how-to guide. It does allow me to work with the Greed system though." Bubbles said when they had something workable. "Do you want the glasses back?"

"They're something I make in a few minutes even if it gives me a headache. If you think they'd be useful take them." Bolt waved it off. It had taken a few minutes and time.

"We'll see. I need to experiment more with them to see what use they are." The senior said with a shrug. "But that will be later. Right now, I'm going to make your Envy system more efficient, make Sloth significantly better, and tidy up the Wrath. Then I'll add the resonant materials to the gauntlets to give it a lot more omph. After all of that we can work on Greed on the physical side so it can't potentially fry the internals if you pull too much."

"Yes we do need more omph." Bolt said with a very serious nod of his own that made Bubbles roll her eyes.

Jokes aside, the resonant material choice was actually pretty obvious. Something that generated more electricity. This had an added benefit of being a relatively common exotic. With combined with the tweaks they made, Morning Star had no real upper limit to how much power she could channel through her offensive systems. Lilly could now store electricity for a surprise shot, use it immediately, or discharge it at close range and electrocute someone.

Bolt had to admit it was a treat watching the Senior work. Bubbles looked like the sort of trophy wife that was hanging off an important person's arm. Her mind and ability made that appearance a complete lie. It also showed him what it was like to see a compatible specialty reinforce your idea. Her specialty was almost tailor made to work with Morning Star.

The changes she made were not significant structurally. The armor alloy was shifted, the lines changed, and the segments adjusted. It reduced the cost slightly, increased the effectiveness, and made how it distributed power better. Sloth would activate smoother and work longer. Wrath shot the daggers faster as a base, and could scale indefinitely. There were a lot of small changes like that.

You didn't need to do significant changes to really improve a mech. Bubbles was a trained MTA Senior. They were the top of the line. All her small changes boosted the entire mech's performance by a good ten percent. Not in one factor. All areas. Morning Star had already been a monster defensively. Bolt really didn't think there was a match for her now.

They were even able to adapt her for Space Combat too, which was a thing that Bolt had been dreading trying to learn on his own. He had no experience there, and it was enlightening to see what was needed. You didn't just need to seal the cockpit. You needed to have the entire mech insulated from a half dozen things. Frankly had the mech not been an expert mech it wouldn't have been possible.

If there was a serious flaw it was that Morning Star was Bolt's most expensive mech to date. Any damage to the armor would be pricy, and the wings would be hell on a pocket book. (They were easier to fix now at least.) She as close to Second Rate a Third Mech could be in form and function though. This made her unmatched in her niche and very dangerous outside it.

About the only problem they ran into in their improvements was trying to define a lot of the Greed system. Bolt would have to have extensive testing done later to verify a lot of numbers. That was the peril of using creating an entirely new system. You had to spend days gathering data about its capabilities.

 

[lost star]

Travel time could get very strange when you added FTL to the equation. Lilly was encountering that first hand. She'd barely been back home more than a few days before Bolt came back home himself. Though his way of returning was far more spectacular than hers. He teleported into the main entrance area with a flash of light. MTA ships had some pretty special ways of transportation when they wanted to show off.

That didn't stop her from lunging at him and giving him a big hug. "Bolt! I missed you!" She said and gave him a kiss.

"Missed you too." The young man replied while supporting her. "Looks like we survived again."

"Yep." Lilly held herself against her husband a bit to check everything and then let herself drop. Then she turned to the other person that had come along with the teleportation.

The woman was pink. Not the worst color. Just an unusual one to be so dedicated to. She was dressed in a pink dress that looked practically painted on, and was pulling on a pair of pink gloves. Once she was finished she tied back her pink hair and gave Lilly a small wink.

"Like hi!" The woman waved. "Senior Bubbles with the MTA here. I'm going to need to do some work on Morning Star. Alone. Do we have the hangar cleared?" She asked.

"First thing we did when we got the message." Lilly confirmed and did a small bounce to get close to the woman. "Bolt, honey? Mind making doubly sure? Also, go say hi to the parents. They were worried."

"On it." The designer said and strolled out without a thought of why she was asking.

Bubbles grinned at Lilly. "Something up?"

"Yer after my hubby." The expert pointed out with a glare once the man was out of the room. "Don't deny it. I can tell."

The senior designer gave a shrug at the accusation, not at all distressed. "And if so?" She asked with a raised eyebrow. "You can't really stop me if I wanted to do something."

Lilly really wished she was taller. Right now she was at boob height, and that was not easy to deal with when you wanted to menace things. She took a deep breath to focus herself and then paused. Her head tilted.

"Are all designers so emotionally flat?" She couldn't help but ask. This was the first time she'd been around one since she'd ascended and everything felt off slightly when she tried to read the woman. "Sorry, but I was gonna do something to threaten ya, but now that I'm focusing, you don't really seem to care at all?"

Bubbles blinked several times and the emotions bled from her face as she changed her stance and behavior. "That's oddly insightful." She stated neutrally.

"Ya not gonna answer the question?" Lilly asked as she stepped back to get a better look at the Senior.

Now that she'd discovered it, she could see still further. Everything about the woman was, well fake wasn't the right word. She wasn't lying. It wasn't a mask either. It was like clothing. She'd put on some behavior to influence people. Behind it all was calculation and numbers.

"What have your heard about the rational paradigm?" Bubbles gave her own question.

"That the funny thing designers do where they're trying to be all rational and stuff? Bolt talked about it a bit. Said it was pretty stupid." The small girl declared with a nod. So far as she was concerned it was really.

The words made Bubbles almost laugh. "Something like that. It's the prevailing thought through the MTA. You have to divorce yourself from emotion. It started as a way to keep your output consistent. You can design in bad days, when you hate the client, or when something about the design disagrees with you. All MTA designers are trained in it." The designer shrugged as she explained. "It's considered the best way. We even have something called logic speak that we use in higher ranks."

"Seems a lot like you neutered your head." Lilly observed as she eyed the woman's body language.

"It can be like that. Don't even get me started on some people's insistence on the speech thing. It's all single words where you have to interpret the rest, and it ends up causing issues if you don't actually know the other speaker." Bubbles shook her head. "It's worse because I'm a natural at it. I come from a place a few sectors away and spent most of my early years training to be a... Well culturally it's a high priestess position. You'd probably think of it as something else." She tilted her hips and did a deliberate come-hither motion that implied more than a few things. "It requires significant emotional detachment, and you wouldn't believe how much I laughed when I noticed the similarities."

The expert pilot had no idea what to think about that. Had she not been able to pilot she probably would have been in a similar position. Attractive women on the planet had some rather specific methos of advancement and survival so she didn't look down on the woman for the admission. Why was she giving it out though?

"So you don't feel a lot cause you were raised to discard it all. Why are you after Bolt if you don't really care?" The young woman got the conversation back on track rather than contemplate things still further.

"He's compatible design wise. That's your typical reason for designer marriages. We could likely help each other advance significantly. You don't really have to worry though. He completely missed all my signals." Bubbles informed the other woman with a slightly tired expression on her face. "I don't think he even stared once, and I do take pride in being decent eye-candy."

"The boy tends to get really focused and getting any attention takes a sledgehammer and a rope." Lilly agreed with a nod and moved back to the original point. "Also, yer not getting him."

"I didn't plan on anything immediate anyway. You are a pilot. I can wait. Your life is risky." Bubbles replied bluntly. "I expect in ten years or so you'll have died and I'll be able to move in." She finished with an indifferent look on her face.

Oh, that was completely different. It was even a small custom with the Rats. There wasn't a name for it, but when death was common you had to make plans for it. Several things snapped into place and Lilly made an immediate decision.

"Perfectly fine then." Lilly chirped and bounced up to the side of the designer. "So, let me show you my mech. You need to make her better right?"

"You're ok with what I just said?" Bubbles seemed a bit surprised at the sudden change in attitude.

Grabbing an arm Lilly nodded. "Ain't like I'll be around then. Go fer it. It'll probably keep him from creating a giant murder machine made of even more murder than normal." She informed the other woman.

That got a small chuckle from the senior and the two began to chat about a few other things while they walked. Lilly couldn't say she liked the MTA representative, but she also couldn't say she hated the other woman either. They could probably be friends at some point. This all assumed that they'd interact with each other more.

As someone associated with the MTA, Bubbles actually had to keep people at an arms length. They could speak, they could interact, but anything that could compromise her behavior was considered a problem. This meant very technically no friendships with non MTA members at all. All communications had to be business only. It was one of those rules that were on the books but never enforced. It would get a few side eyes if Bubbles stuck around all the time but no one would say anything.

She didn't plan on it. According to her, once she was done with Morning Star she had a half dozen personal experiments to work with. So the woman would be in contact, but pretty far away. Lilly was actually a bit grateful for that even if she wasn't feeling threatened. It would keep things from getting messy, which was likely the point of it. Bubbles had admitted that she was trained to seduce and likely manage people. This meant she knew how to deal with jealous wives.

Oddly, Lilly couldn't find it in herself to be angry at the other woman for the blatant manipulation. She was being very obvious about it and not lying. Which was again another bit of manipulation. Lilly was quite sure the MTA had a big profile on her and her likes and dislikes.

Really it was amusing more than anything else. Sort of like a friendly bit of combat in a social arena. Also she hadn't been kidding about Bolt making an extra murdery murder machine if she died. It was probably best to have plans for that, just in case. Lilly didn't plan on dying. She was not going to discount the possibility.

 

[lost star]

It was only once Bubbles left that Bolt finally internally let himself acknowledge that they'd done good. They'd done better than good. He could literally do nothing else and he was set for life. His family was as safe as they could be. He was getting a steady income. Even the planet was starting to recover a bit. No one was interesting in attacking the place. He could rest if he wanted to.

He didn't.

It went without saying that Bolt was already moving again. Several days after he returned he began to go over his backlog of work. It was extensive. He needed to make new mechs, review all the information he'd gotten in his looting, refine all his old mechs, do a thousand an one experiments, and so on. Bolt could spend years working on just what he had at the moment, and he might.

"Yer bounty on that Ves guy came though." Bolt's father interrupted him while he was organizing most of what he'd do in the future.

It took a moment for him to place what the man was referring to. Bolt had put a small bounty out for mechs made by Ves Larkinson awhile ago. He hadn't expected much really. The other designer was on the other side of the Vesia kingdom, which was a considerable distance. Bolt had expected he'd have to import something at considerable expense at some point if he wanted to follow up on everything. That they had the mechs now was pretty good fortune.

With a grin Bolt thanked his father and made his way to the storage where the mechs had been placed. The bounty had been for mechs ruined or otherwise. It had not been a big one so he hadn't expected much. In this case he got one semi-intact one, and a host of ruined ones. Apparently the merc company had wanted more mechs and his 'felt similar and fit better' for some reason.

The young man could instantly tell one of the reasons for it. The intact mech was another strange one. Titled the Aurora Titan, it was a space mech with a medium configuration. It was a pretty mech with a lot of armor and a fairly robust design.

That was the only good thing about it. What did you call a mech that had been designed well but the design didn't work in reality? Bolt could only call it a failure in his head. The speed was anemic, the firepower was pathetic, and it's defenses were specifically designed to handle energy weapons at the cost of other types of damage. The only thing the mech was good at was holding a defensive position. Frankly had it not had some sort of invisible reinforcement and backing Bolt would call it a worthless waste of money. A defensive space mech with these problems was target practice.

It's aura was what made it interesting and theoretically useful. It felt like a giant beast when it rested. Bolt could almost imagine something massive breathing right in front of him as he examined the thing visually. There was nothing else like it in the world.

"Why hello there." Bolt muttered to it as he rested a hand against its armor and closed his eyes.

Last time he'd encountered a mech like this had been with the Crystal Lord. That time he'd had only a feeling and instinct. Here the aura was more vibrant and powerful. He also had some experience with spiritual matters. He could knew where to start, and immediately did so.

Admittedly he didn't expect to find himself in a black void once he tried to properly connect so to speak. It was quite unusual. Doubly so because he could feel his real body in reality. He was projecting his consciousness somehow? The thought was novel enough that he almost missed the very large beast in front of him.

'Curiosity.' The thing sent at him once it noticed him. The thought was accompanied by the vague sense of 'unexpected visitor' too.

"Umm, hello?" Bolt tried to send back very carefully as his mind raced.

The reply was a sense of amusement, like that of listening to a child's attempts at conversation.

"Of course I can't do it as well as you can. This is completely unexpected! I was just trying to examine things and connect- Wait, did he just attach something to an unsecured connection on a mech?!" Bolt tried to turn around and look at where he'd come from. "Is he a moron or just that confident no one could follow his work?!"

The amusement doubled, and Bolt was reminded that he was next to a spirit that could possibly hurt him, or something else equally dangerous. He was in a completely alien environment. He also had so many questions.

"Questions for later." The designer took a deep breath, for whatever that was worth in her and straightened himself. "Sorry, let me try again. Hello, my name is Bolt Silica. I'm a designer sort of like Ves." He gave his introduction.

That got an approving sensation accompanied by something like a head pat. Then a few flashes of questions that he couldn't really parse immediately.

"Yes, I make mechs sort of like Ves." Bolt said. "Though I don't do whatever this is." He frowned as several conclusions came to him. "Does he link mechs to things like you? Interesting method." And one that he'd had no idea was even possible.

It was both novel and a bit disappointing. Did Ves just make something like the thing in front of him and attach it to the mech? Did he completely neglect the mechanical side of the equation? Sure it worked, but it felt like it lacked nuance.

A prod made Bolt realize he was stuck in thought and he sent an apology to the beast in front of him.

"Sorry, I was thinking about the entire process." Bolt examined the creature and then the link with careful eyes. "You're really spectacular by the way. I really didn't expect this while examining the mech. I thought he doing more spiritual architecture. Instead he's linking mechs to something like a spirit? You're the source of the aura and the other effects I assume. Does that cost you energy?"

The beast sent back an affirmative and then sent back a very complicated series of thoughts. Parsing it made him furrow his eyebrows. It took the thing swirling some energy between them before he got the idea.

"Ah, you get something out of it if pilots use the mechs." Bolt concluded. "Hmm."

Now that he was hearing about this, it felt almost like this was actually contradictory to how he did his work. Their styles felt completely incompatible for some reason. Bolt had been edging into using the sprit to reinforce the mechanical. This Ves had just added spirit and was using that over the mechanical. It barely even felt like mech design. Actually, wait, it was like a weapon specialist. Was Ves a spirit specialist?

"I'm sorry, I'm trailing off into thought too much here." Bolt told his conversation partner. "I have things to think about, but is there something I could do for you? You answered my question and I feel like I've just barged in and done my own thing."

The reply was another sense of amusement and then something like an offer.

"Ah. Again, I don't make mechs like Ves. I'd also feel like I'm plagiarizing something if I make a mech connected to you." Bolt explained with a small wince at the thought. "It's an ethical thing, and I try to have clear lines."

If made a mech linked to this beast, it'd be very much like stealing his work. Bolt had no idea how Ves had made this spirit. It was probably a core component to how the other designer was developing himself. Sure he hadn't added security, but that was probably because very few people looked into spiritual work in the first place! Bolt had wanted clues. He wasn't going to plagiarize.

"How'd you like a substitute though?" Bolt asked. "I'd love to talk with you more when I have time and I should be able to setup more connections. I think my wife would like to speak with you too."

With a snort the beast almost gestured to the very black area around her. Bolt could understand. When you had nothing but void, anything was better. He gave it an transmission of agreement and then stopped focusing.

Not even a second later he was back in his body. That had been a bizarre encounter. He had to say it was informative. A quick check of the other mechs and he could see traces of the same connection. Ves had done something completely different with his mechs. Bolt couldn't say it was better or worse at the moment. Such a strange designing strategy. It had it's strengths, but he could see some clear weaknesses too. He was probably being a bit harsh though. Ves was likely still feeling out his designs, just like him.

He could say that the whole 'living mech' ethos had resulted in some fairly spiritually charged mechs after examining the other mechs he'd gotten. He'd have to scrap them and see how that was retained, but he might have stumbled on something related to his own specialty. Salvaging the spirits of dead mechs felt like an interesting avenue to pursue! It would also solve some of his thoughts about sustainability.

He was going to be sure there wasn't any thought there before he did that of course. He wasn't going to grind up some living being by accident. Ick. Worst case there he'd be able to test his Heart system. And actually, it could theoretically be used to gather spiritual power too couldn't it? Something to think about once he started to see more spiritually statured mechs.

Before he got deeper into that, Bolt cut out a part of the Aurora Titan's armor and did some quick shaping of it. Soon he had a small replica of the mech that he could carry in one hand. He then focused and held one hand to the Titan and the replica. Once he was finished he had a little copy of the connection. The little figure even felt like a tiny beast!

The spirit connected felt just as amused as he did. Bolt chuckled a bit, then turned to find Lilly. So far he did find the spirit very agreeable and personable, but he was not going to trust it at its word. His wife was far better at figuring out people. She could determine how friendly the thing actually was.

He also wanted to make copies of all his mechs like this. It was actually pretty neat. He'd make a little shelf and put them all on there.

 

[lost star]

"I'm very tempted to tie him to a bed for a few days!" Lilly said to the void and the beast in front of her. "Can we like go a month without somethin' interesting?! Oh check out this strange thing I found and give me your opinion! No explanation and no actual warning!"

The mix of transmissions she got were rather complicated, but they all had Lilly nodding.

"Yes, he's a thinker, but damn if he doesn't think right! I guess you had to deal with that too?" She asked.

The spirit beast gave an exasperated nod and then transmitted some more thoughts.

Lilly giggled. "Ah that figures. Even giant lizard things had stupid hubbies."

With a shrug the beast nodded again and settled down with a feeling of melancholy, as much as she could settle in the void. This place was pretty strange Lilly had to admit. It made sense. It was something like the spirit world she guessed. It was still pretty bizarre and didn't really have forms so much as impressions.

"I'm sorry, bad topic. You must of lost a lot." Lilly observed with a sad face. "Wonder if Bolt could find parts of em?"

A strong sense of negation was the response, accompanied by warning, and something like not possible.

"Got it, no going there, dangerous!" The expert responded and gave an easy nod. "Well, was great to talk with you. We put your little copy in the room with a lot of other little mech copies. If you wanna talk we can again, but I'm sure that other guy has you occupied with fun stuff of your own." Lilly nodded again with a grin and cut the connection.

Back in her room she set the little mech figurine down on the new shelf next to the copy of Morning Star and Dowry. She hadn't been sure about this beforehand. In fact she'd been rather annoyed. But the spirit thing was a sweety. They couldn't communicate that well, but she'd managed to get a decent enough read on the beast. The girl was something old and relatively trustworthy. She just wanted some good conversation and to live as best she could in the situation she was in. It had been surprisingly cathartic to talk with the beast actually. She'd do it again some other time.

That'd be later. Now she had to get back to work. Bolt wasn't the only one busy, though her work was a bit more tedious. More training, testing Morning Star and Dowry, more recruitment, and so on. All of it boiled down to force buildup and getting something respectable for self defense and more. The mountain was doing a lot of recruitment and there were talks about settling merc groups in areas nearby. The latter was just to help get the planet population up some. There were vast swaths of land completely barren of people. Gifting it to friendly groups was turning out to be something of a draw. It turned out a lot of merc companies wouldn't mind having a nice semi-secured area they could park in.

Lilly didn't know the real details. A lot of her follow natives were organizing and arranging things in the background. It was all under her authority technically, but that meant little when she didn't want to be in charge of it all anyway! She had enough on her plate. Establishing something like a government was far too much work in a direction she very much wanted to avoid. Really, the paperwork and administration she had just managing the forces for the mountain was already a pain in the rear.

But it needed to be done. Lilly sighed and stopped dithering and started doing. "Please prioritize getting training mechs with that Heart stuff hun." She wrote down a note and placed it on their shared table.

They needed more mechs with the ability to use it as soon as possible. She'd noticed a serious improvement in learning with those that had it and those that didn't. The pilots had figured out that they could review their actions in the cockpit with some mental effort, which was extremely useful for training. Just that alone was a godsend, and if they could eventual use the simulators with the system they'd be doubly blessed.

She really didn't want to force him to do anything, but they had to prioritize some things right now. Until they had suitable training mechs they had to stick people in Zombies and Cerberus. This wasn't catastrophically bad as a solution. It would just lead to some quirks. Like with Pup. Who was her next headache and the one she was going to visit now.

The young boy looked very nervous when she entered the room he was in. Which wasn't surprising. She was casual with a lot of people, but she was still an expert. People looked up to her. They deferred to her, even when she didn't want to. Just her presence was horribly stressful to someone so young and unsure. Lilly didn't bother with speaking. She grabbed his collar and pushed him into a seat. She then grabbed one for herself and flopped into it.

"K, you're not in trouble. Stop squirming." The expert led off with before pulling up a large display containing a lot of information. "Do ya know what this is?"

Pup stared at the screen in confusion. "No?"

"Ya can read it right?" It was a valid question. About half their population couldn't read well.

"Yes." The young boy nodded rapidly.

"K, then I'll just flick it off. What it was was a fancy sensor graph. It measures expert potential. Congrats, you're a candidate." Lilly said with a half grin on her face.

Pup's stare turned to her in blatant confusion.

"Yeah, bout what I thought." The young woman muttered and gave his head a smack. "Don't worry about it. Just means we'll need ta push you, and I'll be putting you in meditation classes. Becoming an expert means defining yourself."

"Ok, don't worry about it." The boy repeated with a nod.

Lilly restrained an exasperated sigh. She really wanted to blame the dog mech he'd been piloting, but according to her in-laws he was just like that. Pup was an astonishingly good name for him really. It also made training him almost feel like trying to discipline a puppy. The boy was overeager to a fault and very prone to taking everything to heart in the most enthusiastic way possible. Which was tolerable for a normal pilot. It was intolerable for an expert candidate. This was going to be a small nightmare to deal with, and she couldn't just leave it. Even a mediocre expert was worth the hassle. Not that she'd tolerate him becoming mediocre under her watch.

Once she got herself under control Lilly gave Pup a serious look look. "I need ya to answer something. Do you like your current mech?"

"The dog? Of course!" Pup responded while nodding repeatedly.

"Now, could you envision yourself in something else?" Lilly continued slowly.

"Something else?" The thought had obviously not occurred to the boy because he actually had to think some. "No...?" He trailed off, obviously looking for a lead as to what to say.

"If I put you in Morning Star, would you like it." The expert tried to clarify.

The face her subordinate made was actually entertaining. He looked a cross between horrified, disgusted, and trying to conceal it. "Oh no, of course I would! Even if it's a g-" He cut himself off.

Girl mech. Lilly finished in her head. Standard young boy thoughts. They either hated feminine mechs or got a bit too attached. Perfectly normal. It also set her a good baseline.

"How about Berserker then?" That one was a popular 'boy' mech so to speak. Big axes, violent style, very enthralling.

Pup didn't seem enthusiastic. "I like my dog." He said with the first hint of something like spine.

"And why do you like it?" Lilly asked carefully. "It's a sensor and missile mech at it's core. That requires some precision and some unique skills."

There was a reason riflemen usually used rifles. Missiles require some finesse. They traded rate of fire and ammo for better targeting and explosive firepower. Cerberus worked, but it had issues in protracted engagements. This was possible to mitigate if you were decent at piloting and knew how to measure your shot impact. Pup had none of those things. Had she more mechs and pilots she would have sat him in a training mech for a few years to smooth out his decision making.

"I know I'm a bad shot." The young pilot muttered. "The vets say my target acquisition is horrible, my dodging is spastic, and I'm bad with comms. Cerberus doesn't care much about that. I can find the enemy for everyone else, and if I miss they can help."

"You like the sensors?" Lilly asked with surprise.

Her question made the boy shrink. "That weird?"

"It's unusual. Most people hate them." The expert clarified softly and gave him a smile. "That does mean that we got very lucky with your placement. Cerberus is actually perfect for you. Training will help everything else."

The look she got in return was exactly like a puppy being praised. It took an effort of will to keep from patting him on the head and calling him a good boy. She was definitely going to have to talk with the kid's parents. Did they splice dog DNA into his head or something?!

As Lilly wrapped things up she realized that Bolt was going to be a bit annoyed. With another potential expert on the horizon they'd need another expert mech. There was no guarantee that Pup would ascend, but she'd certainly try her best to make it happen. He husband would scrunch his face up and try to pretend he was grateful about it, even while cursing that he had more work and would need to call in favors.

 

[lost star]

Bolt made a face as he stared at the design program in front of him. Lilly had requested he bump up training mechs as a priority. It was a good idea. He just sort of... Well, the thing of it was training mechs were pretty close to being a solved issue. There were legions of them out there and even the most generic pattern had been gone over a lot. From First to Third rate, they'd been done and redone. There wasn't even that large a difference between Third and Second. Sure the innards were more refined and expensive on second, but the concept was the same. Training mechs were simple and cheap by necessity.

To use an analogy, if you wanted to teach someone sword fighting, you used a padded sword. Adding tech to it didn't help the training that much. It just made things safer. You still learned how to swing the sword down, how to react to someone swinging a sword back at you, and so on. A fancy hi-tech sword performed the exact same function as a padded and weighted stick when teaching someone the basics.

Adding the Heart system was the only reason he had to custom design something. It would be a pretty passionless project really. The designer was decidedly unenthusiastic when he realized what the work would involve. He was almost wishing he was a rational designer, because his enthusiasm for it was completely negative at the moment.

Procrastinating some he decided to look into how the company founded around the system was doing. Pulling out his special comm he navigated to his messages and status reports. There was a lot that summarized down to a very small statement. They were currently in the hiring and organization process. A bit of research led him to believe this was normal. They'd probably be organizing for a year before they got serious work done. It took time to get everything lined up even with MTA backing. They had completed some preliminary work, but that was mostly just small scale testing to independently verify conclusions. Making sure the product was viable and deciding what exactly was needed while organizing things.

To Bolt's mild surprise there were a few requests for more information, and a request for a video call. Since he had time now, and it looked like the requestor had time he sent a message. A few minutes later he got the call setup. He was rather thankful for the designer room then. It had a big screen.

"Good Morning Journeyman Bolt." The man on the other end of the screen gave a nod. "I am Master Montoya. It's a pleasure."

Bolt sputtered. "Master?" He asked incredulously before he could censor himself.

"Yes." The man, who looked like the picture of a bland bureaucrat answered with a small and serious nod. "I understand you might be confused and alarmed, but any part with the potential to be added to the technology update requires a master to approve it. You could consider me a consultant for official certification. I will not be involved in the day to day operations."

"I really didn't expect that." The young designer muttered and reasserted control of himself. "You still have questions about the system though right?"

"I do. I'm aiding in the initial setup and evaluating what would be required to progress the project. There will be a small army of scientists and engineers to handle the tests needed. It requires a rather large amount of work." The master explained with a small shrug. "You managed to exploit the interactions between several different systems in a very unique fashion. The interaction itself deserves extreme exploration as a result of this. I wouldn't be surprised if we get several designers explicitly advance to Journeymen trying to exploit it once it's released."

"That... Feels more than a little daunting." Bolt had to admit after some thought.

Master Montoya gave a nod of mild agreement. "We have masters that struggle to do what you've just done. It's humbling when you understand the scale of what the MTA operates at. That said, time wait for no one and I should get to the point of this call. First, what's your inspiration for the system?"

Bolt cringed internally before he replied. "You're read into psionics I assume?" He didn't want to get another MTA call.

"I am. You can assume any master is and usually I'd say they know more than you, but in this matter I believe you might be able to teach me something." The master informed and looked very intent.

"All right, they're inspired by some alien tech. They used a lot of stuff specific for them. One of it was what they called Jade Slips." Bolt tried to explain without breaking the MTA prescriptions.

"Species... Ah, the Stone Shapers." Montoya said, obviously looking something up. "I'm afraid you're halfway across the galaxy, so I don't know any history there aside from the official statements."

"It's not that important. The thing is the Jade Slips used er alien abilities to record memories, impressions, even instruction manuals. You can connect to them with psionics." Bolt continued. "I jury rigged some devices that could let pilots read them, and then realized that storing memories could be very useful."

"Yet there isn't a trace of psionics in the Heart system. That does explain the crystals though." The master concluded and something flashed off screen. "Are they necessary?"

"Some sort of crystal lattice is needed. I didn't experiment with different types once I found a decent synthetic substitute." Bolt admitted. "The Heart system uses psionics a tiny bit, but only in the way a photo records a picture. I know pilots emit some psionic power when piloting. It can accumulate in a mech. It's measurable with the proper tools." That he hadn't built yet. "The Heart System sort of takes a recording of that and stores it in the crystal. It also accumulates the psionic power too, which is part of the process. I'm sorry, I don't have terms for all of the mechanics yet because I'm still discovering some of it."

The master was silent a moment as he flicked through a few things on his side. "Believe it or not, this is more than informative. It's enlightening, and gives me much to think on. This gives me several plans of actions, and I will need to test out various crystals to further identify interactions. How did you verify that the device is recording more than random noise? Our initial tests are giving us information that will take extensive programming to turn it into a usable form, assuming it's possible to verify at all."

"Ah, yes. Verification used more psionics unfortunately. I can say that our pilots are reporting that they can review information inside their cockpit now, which is some confirmation that things are being recorded." It was something new that Bolt hadn't expected but made sense in retrospect. "Another way is to connect to them like you would Jade Slips." He paused and winced internally. That might have been too much information.

If it was the other designer didn't comment on it. "How do you connect?"

"Mentally." Bolt frowned as he tried to explain it over video. "Can you do that verification thing that confirms a Journeyman?" He asked, reaching for the one thing he thought could be relatable.

The question seemed to bemuse to other man. "All masters are taught that yes."

"It's sort of like that, but you need to grip and pull instead of reach out and touch." Bolt shook his head as he worded it. "I figured it out after an hour or so, but that was pure intuition and guesswork with a dozen Slips and dedicated effort."

"Hmm." The older designer reached for something off screen and held it. Bolt had to assume it was a crystal. After a moment of concentration the man nodded. "Ah, I see. Very counter intuitive and it requires some internal awareness. This does explain why it has not been discovered until now. Is it always so disorientating and unpleasant reading it?"

"It's viewpoint based and their raw experience." The junior designer offered. "Once you get used to how the person thinks it's better but still very hard. There's a reason I believed VR was the best way to interpret it."

"I will have to agree. This does make us prioritize VR programmers more I believe." The master mused out loud. "Many tests will require verifying fidelity and readability as well. I can see why the initial startup was considered so high priority now. This does definitely seem to fit the criteria to have it applicable for the next gen tech update."

"Heh, I'd almost say grab a few people from Iron Spirit and have them help." Bolt joked.

It was a joke that the other man seemed to take seriously. "That would actually work I think. We could even gather more data that way. VR pod systems are very trivial to have modified. I can get a thousand mechs here, and their trillion players. Have it rolled it out as a general update?"

"That was a joke. You can do that?" The young man asked incredulously.

"You underestimate the scale of this project and what it could become. The CEO has already sought and obtained investment from several organizations involved in encouraging things like this. There's a substantial desire to investigate, including a push from organizations backed by the Assembler and the Machine-Mind." The master informed him simple.

The Assembler was basically the founder of modern day mass production. If you made a mech with a parts fabricator, you used his work. The Machine-Mind was also another big name. She was responsible for the helmet that let a pilot interface with a mech. The two Star Designers were practically the founders of the mech ecosystem and if they were interested, it was an extremely big deal.

Something about his look must have gotten through because Master Montoya continued. "Don't assume you have a Star Designer's attention. The groups in question were founded by the designers to act in their interests. They frequently approve projects like this through automated programs. It's quite predictable if you know what variables they look for."

"I honestly don't think that makes things better." Bolt responded slowly.

The master had absolutely no sympathy. "You will have to get used to it. Thank you for your time. I will leave you to your work."

The call clicked off and Bolt stared at the black screen. Somehow his current issues felt a lot less painful to deal with. Imagine that.

 

[lost star]

It had taken some thought on how to handle his next task. Some serious pondering to come to a solution to his problems designing training mechs. Bolt was going to cheat. He needed something to make the project easier and that was the best solution he found. It wasn't actually cheating. Many mech designers did something like what he was going to do. He still didn't like actually doing it. Purchasing a license for training mechs felt so dirty. It offended his poor pauper's soul. He wanted to do it all himself. That ultimately wasn't feasible. His time was valuable. Purchasing a package gave him licenses for an entire line of training materials and saved him months of time doing something that had been done before. A simple cost benefit analysis pointed said that getting a license was the best step he could take.

Altering them for his own purposes was an accepted part of mech design even. Bolt was just sort of, well experimenting some as well. He was going to intentionally try to 'consume' the blueprints. It felt a little bit dangerous to do honestly. He still needed to see how his style interacted with designs like this. He was reasonably certain it couldn't actually hurt anyone doing it. His previous collaborations had let him know how he interacted with styles. Pushing it with bought blueprints was the safest test he could think of and was the only way he could force himself to do this project with anything resembling enthusiasm.

His reasoning was pretty simple. If he was an expert his specialty would have been horrifically dangerous all the time. Since he was a designer, Bolt was instead no more dangerous than other designers. He couldn't hurt people by making blueprints. He'd just steal their ideas and override their design with his own. That was what he'd unconsciously done with Senior Shen's blueprint awhile back. It wasn't normal for a designer. You typically had a clash of ideals where the design was pulled in several directions or contamination of some sort as their ideals tainted one another.

It was something hard to explain and something Bolt had only realized after working with other designers. The best way for Bolt to describe it was one designer did variable A. Another did variable B. Designer A added +1 to his designs. Designer B did the same. When they worked together, it gave a mech +.5 or more to each variable depending on how compatible they were. They'd only add +1 if they were extremely in synch. Bolt didn't run into that problem. He could make them both +1, or make something else +2, and also take lessons from their works. That was his personal ability. It was the simplest explanation for how he interacted with other designers.

Socially this meant Bolt had to be very careful. He could be a big boon or a horrible thief. When he worked with other designers he learned from them and could probably imitate them if he was so inclined. He didn't plan on changing his behavior much with that in mind, but he was more aware of it now. It would explain why some other designers had trouble interacting with him. It was hard to watch your works being overwritten. The young designer couldn't and wouldn't change himself to make himself less offensive. It wasn't like he'd done anything different growing up. Salvaging was just picking up the ruined works of other people.

Getting back to the training mechs. Bolt had some discretionary budget. So he purchased a training mech package. It contained Humanoid mechs, many training weapons, and dog and cat mech designs as well. Pricy, but within their budget and useful in itself. It gave him everything he could want to base his own training package off of and even included materials he wouldn't necessarily add off hand.

Once the purchase was through he went over the entire thing. As he'd thought beforehand, training mechs were pretty solved as a package. You had to keep them simple. The most basic of them were also relatively cheap too. You didn't want expensive parts because students would find someway to break them. You wanted repairable and as safe as possible. These weren't fancy military mechs. These were mechs typically used by pre-teens. There wasn't much you could do here while maintaining what you needed for training, especially with Third Rate tech.

Bolt actually had to focus more than a little to alter them like he planned. Just thinking that he was going to take the design and make it his own didn't really work. He needed to trace and isolate the parts of each designer and find what they really added to the mech. It was surprisingly difficult and not for the most obvious reason. The package he'd purchased had gone through a thousand designer's hands. It wasn't a smooth unified design from one mind so much as a thousand novices working on a thousand calculations to create a mathematically perfect training tool. He had to pick apart every hand that worked on it to learn from it.

It was surprisingly engaging once he got into it. It was a mystery puzzle and history lesson all in one. Some of the mech decisions didn't make sense for war machines. Training machines were very different beasts and did many things different. The goal wasn't to make an easy mech. It was to make a training tool in the shape of a mech. Even the power systems had to be delicately done. You did not want a student to blow up something by accident, or god forbid they did something stupid intentionally.

Of course he also needed to add the Heart system. That was probably the easiest part of it in a way. His first iteration of system itself had been designed to be an independent module, relatively easy to install using a system of thin wires to 'pull' information from the rest of the mech. Integrating it just meant tying it into the current electrical system. He actually had to do this because training mechs had modular limbs. You needed a lot of different mech types and addons to give proper training, so the training mechs were more like a series of modular parts than a set of coherent mechs. This was where the majority of the changes Bolt made ended up happening. The wires had to be a bit thicker, and he had to be sure that the connections would actually work with modular limbs. He hadn't tested that. (It made him appreciate the company he'd help found a lot more. There were probably thousands of edge cases he hadn't tested.)

Thankfully for Bolt's sanity, the remodels didn't take that much time. Purchasing the designs had shaved months of work down to a few days. He didn't need unique designs, just variants. Which saved even more time because the originals had been thoroughly tested for flaws. Amusingly, this was his first official set of variants when he was finished. Which was a bit backwards. Most designers did the the variants first.

For entertainment, Bolt did take a bit of extra time to make the mechs look 'cool.' The original stuff had been rather blocky and utilitarian. His design looked sleek and heroic. It took some artful coloring and altering the profiles to achieve the effect, but he figured the kids would appreciate it. No one wanted to pilot a block after all. These were Super Sentai! (Yes the shows still existed. Colorful pilots in mecha suits? It had barely taken any adaptation from their pre-exodus to make them popular!)

He did not touch everything. Part of the package included weapons and add-ons. Rifles, an assorted series of weapons, and a lot of dummy rounds. Bolt didn't touch that much aside from giving them a light brush to remove obvious flaws. The weapons were brightly colored and specifically designed to be as non-lethal as possible. He had no desire to mess with what wasn't broken and the obnoxious colors were actually important for training. You wanted certain things highly visible, and the training weapons were still mech-sized. They were less than lethal rather than fully lethal.

There was only one big consequence to his decision. Every training mech and training weapon would cost them a licensing fee to produce. They'd been able to coast by using mostly generic licensing and his designs for most of their other mechs to make them competitive with other mech types. His altered training mechs didn't fit that profile. They still fell under the original license. His revisions hadn't altered them enough for that to be completely removed. Bolt wasn't inclined to try to change them that enough to have that happen. He'd already used the designs to practice his specialty in a rather non-standard way. He didn't want to outright steal all their work. (Also the original designs had been tested for safety extensively already. He was not going to adjust them enough to cause those tests to become invalid.)

Once he was completely finished, Bolt flipped to the blank silhouette he'd shown Bubbles when working with Morning Star. This was another experiment of sorts. His people had been read in on the psionic thing. He was going to see if this helped them add it to the designs they'd make. He aligned the spiritual with the physical. This was a training mech. It needed to teach. Protect the student. Help them concentrate. Let them feel the mechs.

Frankly it felt a bit silly adding those words to the blueprint. Bolt really wished there was a better way. He'd pass it on to the techs and have them debate it. With the glasses he'd made and some work, they could figure something out. Better notation perhaps? He had what was developed with Bubbles, but that was more personal notation for calculations. Not blueprint knowledge for your line worker. You didn't throw the equations you used to calculate engine throughput at a mech assembler. You just gave them what parts to make.

Regardless, they'd have to make one of each model and submit them to the MTA for official approval. Bolt could restrict his design to in house only and avoid that, but he figured that if he was going to devote time to this, he'd get a sellable model. The Heart System alone merited a new model line. He didn't anticipate sales, but it wouldn't hurt to have more mechs for sale. A bigger catalog was better.

 

[lost star]

His experiment was unsuccessful! Bolt should feel so ashamed. His designer credentials were going to be revoked because of his failure. Oh the humanity. The tangent was mildly bemusing to get into while he examined the blueprints. Then to the foreman who'd brought the issue to his attention and was in charge for this shift.

The lead foreman for mech construction was one of the older men in the mountain. He'd been with the family for decades at this point and had been one of the primary lead repairmen on their expeditions. He was getting close to the point were people in other nations would retire. Here he'd probably work until he couldn't anymore. The old man might not have been educated like Bolt, but the young designer would bet good money he could outbuild and out repair any fancy master from a more advanced state. Thus his advice and expertise was invaluable.

"So the problem isn't with the blueprints?" He asked the man.

The man wiggled a hand. "I'd suggest you put in something physical ta make it easier ta focus. Believe it or not, the appearance matters a lot fer that, but maybe a little doodad somewhere when you need something specific would help more. That's not all the real problem." He informed Bolt. "Problem is since ya gotta focus and use feelings ya can't verify it at the end. We could get one working fine and the next half-assed because someone had a boo-boo."

The designer nodded slowly and proposed a possible solution. "Think I should make tools fer it then?"

"Might work, but will ya have to hand-craft them all?" The old foreman asked back and gestured to the assembly bay. "We got 'bout a dozen possible manufacturing bays in the mountain alone. With em we can make a mech a day depending on type and other factors like supplies and how good the teams are. There are just four lines running today, but that still churns out a lotta mechs. You could make the tools now, but what'll you do when you get a hundred lines running?"

Bolt took the advice to heart. It was something he needed to acknowledge. If he was going to make tools he needed to account for expansion. What made a mech designer strong wasn't the hand-crafted bespoke mechs. That was great for experts, but numbers were what really told in the end. As an example, their neighboring duke in Vesia could casually order a battalion of a thousand mechs to march on a random whim. In times of war the man could field around ten times that number. He was one of several hundred dukes in the nation.

This was something that the only other designer he knew that did spiritual components had already addressed. He'd sent out pamphlet and had people trained specifically to thing specific ways while manufacturing. Would he have to do the same? Bolt wasn't sure if that was very valid to be truthful. He lacked the sort of pull that would need. His little family was still very small in the grand scheme of things still.

Yet, all of this was secondary. They had a small operation now. It wouldn't hurt to just try to prototype a few alternative solutions with an eye towards how they would scale. It was probably the most optimal time really.

"For now I can create a few demo tools to measure things." Bolt said slowly. "We have a blacklight?"

"Got that and the rest o' the lights." The foreman gestured to the side where they stored less used tools.

The 'lights' were basically more primitive tools for inspections. You lit them up and shined them on mechs to verify armor or sealing integrity. Some of them required you spray the mech with specific chemicals beforehand, but they were considered mostly obsolete even to the Wrench Rats. The only reason they were kept around was that sometimes you needed to use low tech. Some exotics for instance played incredibly poorly with standard verification techniques. It was a fast way of identifying certain leaks or contaminations as well.

Bolt was therefore able to grab one of them fairly easily. None were in use and changing one was perfectly fine. Then he used some of his stored spiritual energy to simple adjust what the light illuminated. It wasn't going to be like his glasses. It was more like adjusting the concept of what the machine did.

It took about five minutes to make the spiritual adjustment. It took about thirty minutes to make it work because he'd accidentally increased the power draw, and it needed an entirely new cable spliced in. Once he was done Bolt wheeled the light into a bay and turned it on.

As planned the mech began to glow slightly. Bolt grinned. "There we go!"

Thoroughly unimpressed the foreman stared at the now glowing mech. "And how we gonna measure that?" He pointed out.

"You-" The young designer trailed off and sighed as he realized he hadn't fixed the problem at all. "Damnit."

"I mean it's useful don't get me wrong, but measuring light is a pain in the ass normally, and I'm not even sure if that's actually light we're seeing." The designer growled out and stepped into it. "Also this."

The old man waved a hand. It glowed just a tiny bit under the light and left a very tiny trail behind him. It was just a little distracting.

"How'd ya know it was going to do that?" The creator asked curiously.

"We had people having fun jumping in front of those cameras you made. Broke one of em cause the dipshits were fucking dancing with it." The old man responded.

"Ok, we need another tool then. I think this might be good ta train people?" Bolt reasoned out.

The foreman nodded slowly and stepped out of the light. "Be good ta show them that proper mindset does something at least. Which tool ya thinking about?"

Bolt hummed to himself and then something occurred to him. He smacked his head a few times. Damnit he already had something!

"I already have something that should be gathering up the energy there. I'd have ta see if it can be adjusted to monitor things too. If so I'd just need ta adjust the programming." The designer paused and grimaced slightly. "And maybe add something ta the crystal structure damnit."

"Good luck there. Let us know." The foreman slapped Bolt on the back and gave him a friendly shake. "Be glad it's just those crystals. They ain't that hard ta change out if we need."

Bolt would rather not do that. The ones he already installed were accumulating charge there. Changing them out would remove the charge and the data in them already. He could have it done. It'd feel like a setback.

He was getting ahead of himself though. He had to review the system to see how it was recording and go from there. The young man made his way to one of the mechs in the holding area and got into it. There he looked at the Heart system and felt it out with his exotic senses. The thing was already acting like a sort of reservoir for the mech's spiritual power. This was something he'd already confirmed back when he'd designed this system but it was gratifying to see it working right.

With a mild grumble Bolt got out of the cockpit and picked a part he could touch. Then he concentrated and made a sort of clump of concentrated spiritual power. Then he got back into the mech and checked the Heart again. Did the crystal record the change? The answer was maybe, but he had to have the mech in idle and have to try again.

What followed next was an extremely tedious series of actions where Bolt had to get into the cockpit and check things, get out of it, change the spiritual composition of the mech, and repeat the process. It took most of the day to figure out how and where the change was being recorded in the crystal and then adjusting the computer to properly read the stored information. The computer couldn't register emotions. None of the programming was designed interpret spiritual power at all. Bolt wasn't even sure it could without some heavy code work and custom notation. How would you parse a feeling of rage attached to a desire to smash things into text for instance?

Thankfully he didn't have to get something precise in the end. The designer just needed to compare a good structure to a bad one. The computer didn't need to know what the spiritual architecture was. It just needed to perform a comparison of one structure to another. That was something that your basic interpretation program could do.

It still required the rest of another day to kludge together a proper readout. Ultimately, the computer wasn't actually seeing the spiritual stuff. It was just seeing something like a one at frequency alpha in position such and such. It would require someone versed in the mechanics of the entire system to parse most of it and determine a pass or fail until Bolt could make a filter. He wasn't even sure he could, since a lot of it was subject to interpretation. The designer went to bed thinking on it and made a note to look into it more later.

He woke to a small surprise. Bolt had underestimated his family and their techs. His people had no designers. He was the first one from the family with the talent, drive, and education. They were very well versed in troubleshooting and quality assurance. They'd taken his initial kludge of a solution and changed it into something they could use. The result wasn't pretty, but that was considered more of a bonus than a hinderance for the techs.

It was a silly thing. Bolt's people had all learned on junk mechs. Assembling old mechs and parts to make something that worked, if barely. These parts had never played well together. It had all required extensive work to get it all running. They very frequently had to use the cheapest and most basic computer possible as well. Your average junk tech worked with the equivalent of rocks and sticks technology wise. These computers ran the simplest commands possible, and sometimes not even that. By necessity some techs could read raw output code without an interpreter. This was an extremely niche and rare talent that was only used in Third Rate junk mechs. (And for highly specialized troubleshooting that actually paid significantly.)

His little parse of spiritual data was just more data to these specialists. Getting access to it was actually a sincere boon that Bolt hadn't been aware he'd been granting. It didn't just allow quality control, the techs had figured out how to interpret it to verify damage reports too. If a leg was dinged up the internal sensors and the Heart system could record it. This was in addition to monitoring the spiritual growth and other factors.

The slapdash GUI they built was ugly, the data it offered was complicated and extremely hard to parse, but it worked and it was useful. Bolt decided that it was good enough for their purposes and he could have others refine it. He wrapped it up into a small programming package and set it to internal use, with a small bounty for others to refine it Then he sent a copy to the master he'd recently spoken to, complete with what they'd concluded so far. He figured that it would be useful for their experiments as well.

Bolt was pretty sure he'd never gotten a message so artfully crafted in reply. It was a near perfect cross between 'this is extremely useful thank you' and 'you are giving me a headache and I hate you.' He counted that as a minor and amusing win.

 

[lost star]

Work never ended, and Bolt was still neck deep in it. His task after the training mech was catching up on paperwork and setting the groundwork for another design. This involved licensing. It was also a royal pain in the rear end. Bolt had to admit that even when he benefited from it. The paperwork requirements alone were extensive, and every part had to be verified and checked out against MTA standards. If the designer didn't get so much money from doing it, he wouldn't bother. Which was likely the point.

Expert mechs were not exempt from this. They did get mostly expedited approvals depending on what people wanted. As custom mechs they were typically rubber stamped under the category of non-public mechs. This category was mechs not authorized for public sales and not regulated by the MTA officially. The party line for mechs of that category was 'buyer beware.' No one would be stupid enough to sabotage an expert mech, but they were unregulated and frequently used to testbed special systems.

Morning Star had extensive special systems. Bolt wanted to patent only one part for individual sales. The wings. Though it was more accurate to say he had to patent that part. It had been adapted from another company's part, and Bubbles had rightfully pointed out that it was a system that could be used for any mech when they revised everything. This meant neglecting to inform the company he'd used the base parts for was a bit negligent. They wouldn't and couldn't call him out for it, but it'd be more than a little insulting if he didn't give them partial credit and access to the part blueprint. Doubly so if he wanted to use it elsewhere.

To clarify some, the Morning Star's wings, the Pride system, meshed a special crystal that absorbed lasers and a custom laser emitter to deflect incoming damage. It was unique, but it also heavily relied on the laser company's research into both the crystals and the part. The system had only come together because the young man had been able to access their materials on it. Bolt was well within his rights to keep it as just an expert system and not inform them of what he'd done. This was getting very close to stealing from Little Big Light though. Morally it was a bit iffy. So, because Bolt tried to be moral when he could, the paperwork had been filed and the company had been notified.

This actually put him in a slightly awkward position when they contacted him back. He did not want to speak with Shen at all. In fact he was unsure if he even could. He didn't get any ominous texts from a very dangerous address so he had to assume he was fine so far. It probably helped that he was speaking with Shen's student Mei and not the senior.

A bit of back and forth clarifying the part followed. Mostly on what worked and what didn't. Bolt had some combat data on it, but not as much as he'd like. He had to assume that the company would handle a lot of that if they were interested. They were in part, but then the questions went to a strange place and eventually they had to arrange a call because he was very confused.

"Why are you asking if I've worked with ballistics?" Bolt asked right off.

Mei, who was a woman in a business suit with a particularly bland expression, didn't seem offput by his immediate question. "Have you been following sector news?"

"I've been far too busy locally." The designer responded with a bit of irritation.

"The peripheral nations are being attacked by an alien species termed Sandmen. Current response from the MTA and CFA are non-existent." Mei replied quietly. "They're resistant to laser fire and require a good volume of ballistics to deal with."

Curious, Bolt tried to find information on the galactic net. It took an infuriating amount of time to find it, and then it became alarming. There was a lot of conflicting information. None of it painted a good picture.

"It's going to take me too much time to summarize all of this. How bad would you say it is now?" Bolt asked.

"The Empties are going to be hit in several months to a year depending on how the shield nations hold up. That nation should hold since their master has a warning and that area doesn't appear to be the primary thrust, but the sandmen will likely flow around them and hit us and and Vesia." Mei informed him in such a bland tone that it verged on sarcastic. "Our company is shifting to ballistic production and we'll need anything that can help. My master is currently in medical isolation and cannot render any assistance himself. This why I inquired about your experience."

Putting aside the surprising news about Shen, Bolt flipped through a few pages of information and narrowed down on something resembling a tactical map. Galactically there were countless small nations on the outer area of the galaxy, the rim. These were frequently called barrier or shield nations and typically acted as a natural sort of barrier between civilized nations and places that were too barren to support full nations. Outside that barrier were typically pirates and aliens.

Almost all of those barrier nations in the sector had chunks missing. This was obviously a very bad sign. All three of the nations bordering his home would then be hit once they dropped. Should any of them fall his planet would be squished as a matter of course. The current death tole was already in trillions, and would continue to rise as planets fell and the sandman basically ground down everything on the surface. It was countless lives measured as a statistic that he'd never even have been aware of if he hadn't been speaking with Mei.

"You know, I should be upset that the MTA isn't doing anything." Bolt concluded with a sincere sense of exhaustion. They were supposed to deal with things like this. That they weren't wasn't even surprising. It was expected.

"There will likely be an official statement shortly. If I were to guess, it will be nothing. The CFA is showing signs of movement, but their official stance is to avoid internal operations." Mei's words were both cold and the opposite of reassuring.

"We can't even help with the defense as is. We lack transport." Bolt said as he evaluated their local position.

The woman on the other side shook her head slowly. "I wouldn't advise moving your forces even if you could. There is going to be a significant amount of activity and opportunists once the sandmen move closer. Your area will be considered a prime target by the desperate."

Ah, that was familiar. The rats fleeing the sinking ships and looking to steal everything on the way out. Bolt took a few minutes to think. What could he do here? Perhaps something, perhaps nothing. He needed to research a few things. The Journeyman ended the call quietly and informed his family about the newest threat to them. Then he found a place to think.

"What's this 'bout an alien invasion?" Lilly asked once she found him.

"Don't know much. It will take time for the news to propagate. It's still in the early stages. Do know that we'll need to start preparing now." Bolt responded with a small groan as he tried to plan out what he could do. "At a minimum I think we need orbital assets. There's a significant chance of people just coming into orbit and dropping down without a care."

"Course there is. Least we got a warning this time." Lilly muttered and sat down next to him before giving him a hug. "Was hoping we'd have a year or two to just relax."

"We technically do have one if you ignore how the neighbors are doing." The designer pointed out and gave a small chuckle as she gave him a hit on the shoulder. "I think we'll see about hiring a few space clans to orbit around us maybe?"

"That'll be expensive and not solve much." His wife pointed out quickly.

"It's a proposal." Bolt mused and closed his eyes. "Be a bit easier if Gadget wasn't still a pre-teen and we had more people." He got out with a chuckle. "Perhaps we could purchase a space station?"

"How 'bout you let everyone else decide that. You got the money but spending it right is better than spending it now." Lilly advised as she pressed her head to his shoulder. "What do we need ta revise things mech wise?"

"Believe it or not our lineup works well enough at the moment. Revision will be needed eventually, but it's not urgent. We probably wanna buy a good cheap rifleman." Bolt reasoned out loud.

"Nope. You already bought one mech blueprint. You're making one now! It's on the list!" Lilly interrupted quickly. "We need an in house monster!"

"In house monster?" Bolt repeated with an amused tone.

"Yep, your mechs are the best, and I don't want ya to get lazy." The expert said with more than a little cheer. "In the meantime, I'll handle the space stuff. Thinking we can vet a few space groups, and then raid Cold Grave again without you this time. We got a handle on the place and we need ta bloody a new group and that'll be the most useful. Will be a quick like three month thing here. I'll use that ta both get some more funds and ta see how the space side is handling things."

That was a plan. It wasn't one that handled everything, but it was a plan.

 

[lost star]

Making a rifleman was honestly not particularly hard. If there was a mech that was standard it was that. Firing a rifle was relatively intuitive and required very little training compared to other systems. Furthermore you didn't need much to make them work. Throw them in a line and have them shoot and you'd at least get a little value. Riflemen therefore existed everywhere. Bolt actually had the design for one of them in his head already. Did it fit what he needed though? The one-winged mech he'd made in his vision would be more of a premium mech. Still very useful, but that wing would be expensive. He wasn't sure it'd be suitable for what they currently needed.

While he thought on that, Bolt wanted to do some quick research. It wouldn't take long and it was something that needed to be done. He took one of the hover trucks they had and made his way out of the mountain. He flew a few minutes until he reached one of the places where they'd thrown destroyed mechs.

Called Junk Piles by the locals, these places were essentially mech graveyards. They were the parts that could be salvaged at some point, but weren't worth touching immediately. Ruined legs, twisted armor, ruptured power cells. All of it was basically placed in a pile and covered with a tarp. Some of it wasn't worth even sorting or dealing with, just trash that needed to be moved into a pile so it wasn't in the way.

It felt so nostalgically familiar that Bolt lingered in front of it all for a few minutes. He'd grown up around places like this and battlefields. His father and mother had spent all his life building up the shop by salvaging from places like this. Good days, bad nights, times when they'd huddled together for warmth and wished for food, times when they had everything they could want.

But he couldn't linger and remember. Bolt moved walked between the piles and thought. He could make a mech from all of this. It would be easy. Easier than it had been thanks to his lessons.

"Note to self, make lessons for new designers." Bolt muttered into his comm.

The young man had to look into the future. He absolutely needed people helping him design. Raising them in house would take time. The population issues were still cropping up here and there and it was particularly crippling for his profession. The only one educated enough was his little sister, and she vehemently opposed to mech design. It'd take a solid decade before the current generation was trained enough for him to even think about taking any of them under his wing. (He didn't want to think of why there was such a generation gap.)

Deciding he'd dithered enough Bolt tapped a few of the parts and began to focus on his special senses. There was precious little around him. Just barely enough to sense. The best description he had was that there was a flow and a tint to the energy here. He wondered if it would have been more vibrant in battle? Bolt held out one of his empty spirit containers and slowly filled it up as he strode through the mech graveyard. The result of his walk was rather small all told. Enough to maybe do half a small device.

He visited a few more areas. The training area. A place where combat had been heavy. He even checked out the shrines and nursery, just to be thorough.

This confirmed more than a few things. Spiritual power accumulated from people. It was stronger around places with a lot of activity. The shrines had a particular flavor of it, as did the mechs. Every other place had a tiny, tiny bit of it. Bolt was never going to be able to pull power directly from the environment unless there was an extreme amount of people and emotions...

"That gives me a terrible idea." Bolt muttered as something occurred to him while he reclined in his designer chair after his trip.

Trillions of people dead. The number was impossible to imagine. Hundreds of worlds scoured clean, and it was a footnote in the history of humanity. The entire sector could be erased and it wouldn't matter one bit to his species survival. Yet somewhere out there was a family that would never see another sunrise. Saints and villains, children and grandparents. All of them dead in a day because some alien population had decided to kill them.

Bolt realized he was toying with one of the spiritual containers. The one from the mech graveyard. He could make a spirit, he decided suddenly. He could go to one of those dead planets and pull all the power from it. He had that knowledge. That terrible thing in Cold Grave. He had the ability to get there. A few MTA credits would get him a ride even with lack of care for what was happening. He could create something that would hunt down every alien alive and make damned sure his family would never ever be threatened. He could walk down the path that Ves likely had with his spirits.

With a deliberate motion the young man put down the container and dismissed the whim. No. Perhaps there would come a time when he had to do something like that. Now wasn't that time. That wasn't him and how he'd taken his designs.

He would do something else instead.

"Sorry Lilly, I need ta get this done first." Bolt said to no one in particular and switched to researching.

The Sandmen were a rather strange race even for aliens. They were basically piles of sand with a core the size of someone's palm. There wasn't that much information on them. They typically kept dormant in nests and had actually been pretty boring as a race before this. This recent behavior was completely atypical for what they normally did, which was basically sunbathe. The largest problem with fighting them was that aside from the core they had no weak points. Even First Rate sensors couldn't easily identify the core when the monster was in motion. Killing them therefore just took a lot of firepower, and kinetics worked the best because the aliens both absorbed energy by default and were basically just masses of loose flowing particles.

Individual Sandmen were avoidable threats. As coordinated and aggressive as they'd become? They were genuine threats that required a response. The MTA was silent. The CFA was... Well almost silent. They were likely mobilizing several ships to handle the places the sandmen had spawned according to rumors and the people who watched their warships. The race itself was going to be extinct when they were done, but not before it wiped out a lot of people in the sector.

Bolt wasn't sure if he could change that. He was actually fairly sure he couldn't. The scale was just too large. The best he could do was try to help in the way that all mech designers did.

He started with the basic frame of a spaceborne mech. Third Rate mechs had to specialize, so this mech would be useless on the ground. Once he had the frame setup he stripped out everything that was unnecessary. This mech would be highly, highly specialized. That meant the armor was light, the sensors were low, and there would only be one weapon. It was going to be an intentionally cheap mech. Everything had to be centered around the weapon.

In a way this was familiar. Monster Hunter had been similar by necessity. The mace it had used had been an energy hog and extremely deadly to even use. Had the mech been less armored and stable it would have been damaged from its own weapon. So every part of that mech was meant to handle the weapon.

This nascent mech was just as extreme from a different angle. It was going to be a highly specialized light mech focused around a single point. Sort of a cross between a rifleman and a marksman. The latter was a subset of ranged mechs that focused on long ranged precision firing. Bolt would freely admit that weapons were still not his strongest point. He was getting better, and this one was going to use everything he'd learned.

In this case the weapon he'd settled on was a railgun. These were actually fairly available as a weapon, even in third rate. They weren't frequently used. Railguns were hungry beasts in all respects. They needed a lot of power, a lot of maintenance, and frankly didn't do much more than what your standard propellant based firearms did. Their biggest strength was that they could throw large and specialized munitions. Your standard railgun for mechs usually started off as a heavy component and scaled up.

Slapping it on a lightweight mech like what Bolt was designing was absolutely impossible. This was assuming you did it conventionally. The power requirements alone were rather prohibitive. Increasing the generator would just add weight and then require the mech being scaled up. Perhaps something more high tech and specialized could mitigate that, but the designer didn't have that. He didn't want that.

Bolt had bought one of the most generic of generic railguns for this design. It was a cheap thing that he wasn't actually intending to use at all. He just wanted to take it apart, as in physically create it and take it apart.

The techs involved were more than a little confused at his insistence on this, but Bolt had his reasons. A railgun was at its core an electromagnetic rail that accelerated an object forward. He wanted to see it in action, and then see how to break it. What was the minimum and maximum?

It took a few days of intensive study and work of both the railgun and his own notes from the Stone Shaper weapons. Railguns were finicky little weapons at their core. The rail they derived their name from required a lot of delicate and precision parts. It could also be done away with if you used other mechanics to simulate the rail.

Bolt's revised weapon didn't look like a railgun at all. Nor was it one. It was an almost experimental system that mimicked more advanced weapons in a crude and simplistic fashion. The weapon itself looked like a series of large circles rather than a weapon. The device was meant to be affixed to the back of a mech and would charge up over time. Once it was fully charged the circles would spin. Anything placed in the center would then be propelled forward at a rather cataclysmic speed using a combination of gravitational and electromagnetic forces that he'd copied from half a dozen sources to make functional.

The full weapon looked like a halo once fully assembled. The center propulsion point was a point of space in front of the halo. It took a bit of finagling to get aligned correctly, but it was going to be a bit in front of the head and down slightly. It would only work in a vacuum. It was a bit delicate as well. It worked in the few tests he could manage on the ground though.

This made his creation an extremely specialized and potent weapon, especially when you got to the ammo. Those were multi-layered slugs the size of a mech's fist that used everything he knew about shrapnel and endokinetics to shatter and freeze everything once they impacted something.

Bolt wasn't making this to show off. A marksman didn't work versus the sandmen. The best weapons against them tended to be anything that threw a lot of mass at them. These large slugs weren't meant to pierce. They were meant to break apart. They were designed to do a cone of shrapnel damage. It was absolutely horrible against armor, but against something granular? It would theoretically cause some pretty catastrophic damage. This was assuming it worked as he'd hoped. In all truth it was a fairly untested design that demanded some testing they barely had time to do.

Yet when combined with the rest of the design Bolt figured this mech could help. This design was simple and barebones. The mech was a fairly thin thing. He had stylized it to look like a man with bandages. A bandaged pauper with a payload. The ammo was going to look like a set of prayer beads to complete the look. There were no complicated mechanisms, and while the weapon was fragile it was also very easy to make and maintain.

Performance wise it would be barely functional on land. In space it'd be relatively nimble. Bolt had to add a fair bit of heft to the generator even with the weapon's charging capacitors, so when it wasn't charging it had a lot of energy to spare for the boosters. When it was charging it'd be pretty slow, but a pilot could switch back and forth quickly if needed.

Armor wise the mech had no armor to speak of. It had the bare minimum. The cockpit was reinforced, so Bolt wasn't making a total deathtrap, but this would not take a hit at all. It was a pure glass cannon. Anything mech grade that hit it was likely going to disable the point of impact. This was very deliberate. You could get this mech made with a load of scrap and a cheap parts printer.

The spiritual component was actually the thing that took the most work after the weapon. Not because it was hard, but because Bolt wanted the mech to be easy to produce anywhere. His previous experiments noted that it required a fair bit of focus from the manufacturers to make the spiritual part settle in properly. Bolt had a few theories as to how to work around that, but for this mech they wouldn't be appropriate. Instead he took the flavor of one of the spiritual spots he'd gathered from and added it in. The one thing he had to assume that every manufacturer would be thinking of.

This mech was a desperate prayer. A last resort.

Bolt wasn't sure what the effect of it would be, but he could think of nothing better for this design. He did some cleanup, added some details here and there, and then sent it off to the production line. They'd need to test it out and then submit it to the MTA.

Once all of that was done he looked into his contacts with the Rim Guardians. He expected practically nothing from them, but his request would require about that much. He needed the design available to anyone fighting the Sandmen, and he needed to set it as cheap and as affordable as possible. He'd even take credit. This would require some MTA backing to have happen, but it was really just paperwork. Hopefully they'd at least do that.

 

[lost star]

Getting the mech up to space for testing had been the hardest part. They didn't have any space infrastructure at the moment, and you couldn't just casually build something capable of bringing a mech up. Well you couldn't at Third Rate. Second Rate manufacturing could produce a shuttle capable of getting a mech into space in a few hours along with the appropriate autopilot programs.

Lilly had been forced to negotiate something with one of the merc units that had decided to hang around the planet. It had thankfully been very easy, but it emphasized how much further they had to go. They absolutely needed to get something arranged for the future.

Her newest ride was named Last Prayer. It looked like a bandaged man with a halo. Bolt's now signature aesthetics didn't make it look pretty. It made it look like a starved monk instead. It was thin, it felt kind of weak physically, and it also radiated a presence that made all of the previous points invalid. The mech knew it's purpose.

Lilly naturally loved the feeling. She wasn't here to luxuriate in it though. She was here to put Prayer through his paces. She also wanted to get some experience in space.

It was a far different battlefield than on the ground. Positioning was counterintuitive in space. Every action had an equal and opposite reaction. Good space mechs could compensate for that and stay put when they used their own weapons, but they all needed to account for it because damage could disable the compensators. You also needed to be extremely aware of the big gravity wells if you were close to them.

Most mech battles didn't happen around them thankfully. It made things more than a little dicey on both ends of the fight if you were. Most battles happened in the 'void' so to speak. Far enough away that the gravity wasn't noticeable and usually away from any debris that could cause serious issues. That was where Lilly was at the moment.

The only gravity she could feel right now was what was grounding her in the cockpit. All mechs, even stripped down ones like Last Prayer, had some sort of inertia compensation to allow for the speeds they could get to. This was also what let them have some sort of gravity as well, which allowed for longer deployments. People weren't meant to deal with zero gravity.

"Systems are functional. Filters appear to be working too." Lilly reported.

She was in a sealed suit, but it looked like the mech could have supported her without it. This was the Wrench Rat's first space mech, so there had been a bit of a worry there. The expert grinned as she did a few loops and other maneuvers.

"Boosters fine. Pilots surprisingly well for how specialized it is." The woman continued. "Starting charge."

Behind her mech several capacitors lit up with an ominous white light. The illumination gave the halo a glow from the bottom, as if something was building up. Lilly switched to a few outside cameras and stifled a giggle. Bolt couldn't help himself apparently. Even this was thematic.

Movement was shit now though. Lilly could barely even use the boosters now. The lights in her cockpit had dimmed. The sensors were down to nothing as well. The power was being pulled from damned near everything. Even knowing it was part of the design still didn't make her like it that much.

Lilly flicked off the charge and watched how the mech lit up. Then she did a few more flicks to see how quickly the mech responded. The systems did not like it, but they did as designed.

"Note to Bolt, check to see what rapid switching does to the system." The expert had to assume some moron would try to rapidly toggle that system and would cause some sort of problem. She'd have to test it after she did the other tests. "Full charging."

One, two, three. Lilly counted off the seconds in her head. That was a horrible charging time for any other weapon. For something this specialized, it could be tolerable, assuming the damage was all right.

"Range test one!" The expert called out.

One hand pulled up the chain that was the ammo system. The mech was designed to be as bare bones as possible. No ammo feeding system, nothing complicated. Just a hand carrying a set of spheres. They floated in his hand as he detached one from the chain and held it up. Around him the halo continued to glow and then the bead almost locked into place right in front of him. Inside Lilly aimed at one of the targets they'd setup and triggered the weapon. Between one instant and the next the bead disappeared from conventional sight.

This was the assumed minimum range of what one would expect to engage. About half what a good rifleman would expect to hit accurately. Anything closer would be death for a mech this light. The target was on the smallish side, the size of a mech's head. Lilly could have hit it in her sleep with a mech pistol, but that was because she was an expert. She was actually wasted testing the mech like this, but getting the upper bounds of a mech was still useful and there was something to be said for seeing what the upper bounds of a mech were.

The impact was explosive in a very strange way. First the target was almost pulled in. Then the heat was leached from it. Then it shattered. All of this happened in less than a second, resulting in the target collapsing in on itself and spraying out a set of shrapnel in a wide cone. The primary target was shattered, and the secondary targets were also both frozen and broken apart in a symphony of scrap.

Lilly moved onto the next target. This range was something a marksman could hit. She held up one of the prayer beads as she waited for it to charge and fired as soon as she felt the thing was ready.

Another target was obliterated. The damage reports were near identical. Which wasn't surprising. In atmosphere the air resistance and gravity was a factor. Here it wasn't. In space momentum lasted forever if nothing stopped it. Lilly was testing the accuracy and shot deviation more than the damage it could do. That was relatively good considering the way the weapon worked. Not spectacular, but decent.

So far it functioned as expected. However, this only proved the mech worked. Lilly fired off the rest of the ammo as fast as possible as she tried to stress the mech's firing system. One shot every two to three seconds was not exactly fast. Was the damage enough to justify it? The range was good, the speed of the projectile was good. The power draw was actually... Pretty good.

Bolt had at the bare minimum made a decent rail-gun like weapon on a budget. The ammo system was both the most useful and potentially most expensive part of it, because they could change out the slugs at will. She could even prove that now. A quick word with the people who'd brought her up here and she got a solid slug and a dummy mech out in space.

"Testing with solid metal shot on a target," Lilly squinted at the range finder and just shrugged mentally. "Call that what your average marksman could do?" She said for the record.

This was rather variable, but it was a good ballpark. The exact numbers were in the sensor logs. Lilly held up the metal ball and triggered the release. The ball blurred out of sight, and a second later the dummy mech exploded.

"Huh." The expert got out in mild surprise.

If all else failed, Bolt had made a space marksman that did enough damage to justify the cost. That was some pretty nice damage from what amounted to a hunk of metal. Something more specialized would probably be a lot more damaging. The dummy targets weren't the best at evaluating damage, and they'd need some specialized tests to see how it'd do versus sandmen.

"Final evaluation, it works." Lilly reported.

She would not want to pilot this thing in combat though. One good hit and it'd stop working. The weapon itself was a very big target and not particularly armored. It was a pure glass cannon. Normally that'd be a dealbreaker. It wasn't here. This was a space marksman. They were meant to work at extreme ranges and outside of normal threat zones.

Aside from that, the aiming system wasn't that robust. Lilly as an expert could nail anything she wanted, but a lesser pilot would have issues. The shots were just slow enough that you'd have to predict enemies past a certain range. This wasn't a dealbreaker against the sandmen. It would make it less useful against enemy mechs, assuming you used the default ammo. (Lilly could imagine that some specialized slugs would be nightmares.)

All told, it was all right and would serve its purpose. Which if she thought on it, was actually mildly impressive. This mech was pretty cheap wasn't it? Get a hundred of them and you had some fairly hefty coverage. The biggest limitation in that case was ammo costs. Specialized slugs probably wouldn't be cheap and ammo costs had a tendency to add up.

 

[lost star]

Heff was not a happy man. If anyone asked, he'd say he'd been born unhappy. He'd frowned at his first birthday, and that had been his highest point in life. Today was just another shitty day in a series of them.

"We have to hold for at least an hour." The leader of this shitty day said over the comms. "Evacuations are still ongoing and the bunkers are not secured yet."

Like that meant crap. There were several million people on the planet beneath them. At best they'd save a few thousand on the ship. The rich ones. Big whoop. The shelters would maybe work, if they were lucky and the crappy aliens didn't feel like being thorough. But what did one do when there was no other option? They all knew they lacked the forces to keep the sandmen away. The only thing they could do was try to give them a kick while being dragged down.

"Fuck these motherfuckers." Heff growled into his cockpit with muted comms as he gripped his controls tight enough to make his knuckles creek. "Fuck this situation, and fuck whomever made this mech!"

Who named a fucking mech the Last Prayer and sold it?! This shitty thing could barely fly in space, not that Heff expected to do much flying. The fucking sandmen weren't something you could easily dodge or dogfight with.

"Last Prayers on the rear line." The leader continued. "Everyone else, fire at will, don't bother relying on fighters. They'll likely be gone in a few minutes. We all know the stakes."

Heff cursed again as people got arranged. He invented new swears. The Last Prayer design had been transmitted free of charge, free of fees. He hated the name, he hated the position he was in, he hated everything about it, but he also hated that he had to be grateful for the designer. It was the best weapon their crappy planet could afford to produce quickly, and even if it was untested in combat the testing logs looked good. Even the Heart System, whatever that was helped slightly. It was supposed to be their last will and testament. It wasn't like people would get one otherwise. A dozen worlds had been erased with nary a footnote already. Heff remembered their names, but was damned sure no one outside the nation cared.

The man didn't get a chance to curse more. The sand had started to come in. There was little point in wasting breath.

It was like seeing a tide roll in. It wasn't an object so much as a mass of shadow that blanked out the stars. The Sandmen had like three separate formations they used, and this one was the worst. Just a pure wave of sand that spread farther than the eye could see. How did you fight against something like this? It was a hurricane against the leaf that was him. The size disparity was that much.

Despite himself Heff prayed as his mech began to ready itself. He initiated the charging system for the weapon. The lights dimmed and he cursed again. Screw life support. Screw the sensors. He just needed to fire in a specific area and he could eyeball it! Everything went black on his command and the only sound was his breathing.

One mech hand grabbed one of the prayer beads. He held it up in front of himself and looked at the enemy. The cockpit rattled as everything charged. The inertial dampeners were at a minimum. He could barely move his hand. Sweat dripped down his forehead and Heff laughed and cursed at the same time as his composure started to break. He was staring down death in the face and all he could do was watch and do this.

Weapons safeties off, initiate firing process. The bead disappeared from sight as it flew forward. He didn't wait. He held up another one. Charge time was two to three seconds. He could do it a bit before two because he'd cut everything. Another bead disappeared. The another one.

Great gouges were torn out of the oncoming tide. Heff could see holes through normal vision. He didn't delude himself into thinking it mattered. There were perhaps a hundred others with this mech and that sort of ordinance did damage. It would cause holes in the enemy. The sandmen could die from being shot. They simply didn't have the numbers to do enough damage here. They were bleeding and delaying the enemy. Anything more than that was a distant and impossible dream.

But what else could they do?

When the choices were fight and die or flee and die the answer was obvious.

It became a rhythm. Hold up the bead and fire. Hold up the bead and fire. Breathing became hard, so Heff switched to he suit's internal air. Even a tenth of second mattered and it wasn't like he planned on ejecting.

At some point he got more beads. He couldn't tell you how. There'd been a plan for resupply it had it not? It didn't matter. He was at half power now and could still shoot. Last Prayer wasn't particularly efficient power wise, but it wasn't bad either. It could fire long enough to make a difference. This crappy budget mech had more of a bite than anything else on the field and every shot he did was another needle in the enemy's eye.

More dents appeared in the tide. Heff knew that out there there were poor saps in less than him. People thrown into ad-hoc space ships and thrown into line. They'd probably died in the first few minutes. There had been mechs in front of him, but he couldn't see them. He'd pray for their souls, but it didn't matter. Why would prayers matter to people like him? They were in bumfuck nowhere. Their death was a statistic of .001. Insignificant.

It was almost a relief when the sand started to close in. He didn't even bother to curse. He had a few prayer beads left to use and he'd use them. He could hear the sand scratching at the armor of his mech. The grinding sound meant he was a dead man no matter what now.

They'd all known this going in. One dozen planets had already fallen. The best pilots had already left to guard more important areas and they were likely going to die as well. Heff and the others had known they'd been dead for days. Their only option had been a last desperate scream into the uncaring void.

Two beads left. The mech was blind now, whether because he was surrounded or because the eyes had been gouged out, Heff couldn't tell. He wasn't even sure the mech was still able to fire. He still repeated the pattern that had been burned into him by this point.

One bead left.

His hand couldn't move.

Heff looked around and realized that at some point the sand had gotten into the cockpit. His actual hand couldn't move not the mech's. That was pretty bad right? It was hard to think.

Prayer bead up. Was there energy left?

Fucking sandmen. Shitty life. What was he supposed to do here? What had been the point of it all? He was less than the sand eating him.

Kick them in the balls.

That felt right.

Around him the mech started to falter and fade. The arms fell off as the sand ground into the joints and armor alike. Despite that the reactor flared with the last bit of its energy. The halo glowed with a brilliant white. The very last bead he had floated up to the right point, and then the railgun fired one final time. Heff felt almost content as another chunk was ripped out of the sandman.

"Screw. You." The dying pilot breathed out with his last breath.

Report on Planet 70021-Z305, Battle 19243 Sandman War

Native evacuation plans were able to execute without interruption and approximately one hundred thousand civilians were able to leave the system before the aliens descended. Non-evacuated population retreated to bunkers, and currently have reported a 80% casualty rate. This is above the average survival rate and is attributed to the defenders being able to hold off the assault far past the expected timeframe, which allowed the bunkers to be properly sealed and power sources deactivated. The defenders have been noted and have been given a posthumous award of citizenship level 11.

All 'Heart Crystals' from the mechs designated as Last Prayers have been recovered. All pilots are confirmed as deceased. Per request from the designer and last wills of the pilots, these Hearts have been relayed to the nearest construction facilities on the front line. They will be placed in new mechs of the same design. This request is considered a cheap way of boosting morale and will be continued as more planets fall. The risk is considered minimal as the sandmen do not control territory.

Evacuated population consists of 90% children and several parents. This contrasts the official manifests, which stated that several ships should have had some prominent officials and their families. Per orders of the local MTA officials, this discrepancy shall be ignored and stricken from official records.

The children will be shifted to MTA approved grief counseling and education and those with potential will be given the offer to join the organization. Those without potential will be settled in appropriate charity and resettlement programs in separate sectors.

End Report.

 

[lost star]

The situation in space was deteriorating. Lilly didn't know the details exactly, but she could tell just based on how the space clans were reacting to her overtures. The mix of fear, caution, and opportunistic greed was achingly familiar. You saw this on all Rats when a war was about to begin. The smart ones grabbed the good Cheese and found a good hole to hide in. The stupid ones found themselves underneath a foot.

She was the foot this time. To gather reputation and get proper contacts she had to do a few things. Stomping on the stupid opportunists in space was an easy task she had no qualms in doing.

Morning Star handled very differently in zero-g. She was still extremely graceful, but there was no sauntering there. Just using the boosters and momentum depending on how she wanted to move. It was like flying but more delicate. It didn't matter that much once you learned it. It was only notable here because she couldn't saunter into their formation. She had to gently float forward. Morning Star still looked absolutely magnificent.

"You have my permission to surrender." Lilly said to the mechs arranged in front of her.

One hundred, two hundred, the numbers stopped meaning much after that. She gazed at the mechs arranging themselves and felt nothing but disdain. Pirates had never bothered with her planet before, but she knew the type. It was in the way the moved, and how they shifted. Even here alone versus over all of them they would not make the first move unless forced to.

"Respectfully Vulnerable Pilot, you're outnumbered badly here." The leader said. "Just go ahead and back away, and we won't have to damage your pretty mech."

A bit of lightning ran down one of her mech's arms. Lilly just stared at them, and more than a few mechs shifted back. She waited a few more uncomfortable beats before she actually spoke. "You've been preying on the shipping local lines. I see two of my husbands mechs in your forces and I know for a fact they weren't sold to you. I will repeat, you have my permission to surrender."

She was mildly impressed that they'd adapted the Cerberus for space combat actually, but it was likely just being used as a missile boat. She couldn't imagine it being useful in any other fashion. In fact based on how it was latched onto the side of the transport they were using, it was likely barely space worthy. That was still a mildly impressive technical feat.

The leader didn't say much more. He instead shifted and Lilly sighed as she lowered her wings and diverted power to them. Without another word every mech with ranged weapons fired. She barely bothered to dodge. Only the Hellfire missiles were worthy of her attention. The rest was poorly aimed and barely worth acknowledging.

Without an expert's willpower backing the attacks the impacts against her mech were pitiful. They pinged off the wings in little explosions and caused absolutely no damage. Pride was aptly named at this point.

Lilly let it go on for a few seconds to prove a point and impact morale before she moved. Her wings flapped and then daggers shot out. Several mechs sputtered as they died and she shifted. More daggers flew out and more mechs died. The newly upgraded systems were quite a bit more responsive, she noted calmly.

She was still playing at the moment, and her enemies knew it. They'd thought they could play it safe and they were too cowardly to approach her. Numbers only told if you had the willpower to use them. The first ones to approach her would die, and all of them knew it. They'd hesitated and played it safe. Now that she'd proved she could kill them at range they'd be forced to react.

One second, two seconds, three, four, five...

"Activating Greed." Lilly said on a private channel and activated the energy draw.

Electricity arched from the enemies and pulled towards her. Without the ground to act as a channel Greed was simple pulling the power from the enemies in great visible chunks of static. If the enemy had been shaken before, this just cemented the difference. Her next step made it worse.

Resonant materials backed by her will lit up with power. Lightning arched up and down Morning Star. In space there was nothing to ground it so it would go on until her will stopped, or it touched a target. The mech spread her arms and the lighting arched out into space and into the nearest enemies. A dozen mechs seized up as the electricity hit them and fried out all their internal parts. Yet all of that was secondary to her goal.

"Hello Coward." The expert said as she pulled back all her daggers and threw them out in an area where her wide area blast had bent around.

The reason for this pirate group's success appeared out of shadow and the expert assassin twitched his blades to deflect a few closer hits. Lilly noted that even now he was keeping back and a lot of his concealment up. Coward was a good name for him. If he didn't have an opening he wouldn't fight at all, so he started to fade away again.

Lilly threw out a few daggers and lightning. None of them hit. This expert was extremely good at dodging, and the range was enough that she wouldn't be able to catch up to him.

It really didn't matter though. She just needed him visible for a few more seconds.

Above him another figure dropped in at the last moment. Headhunter Leo crashed into the mech and the mech was pushed down. The axe rose and fell, and the dagger managed to just barely deflected. That didn't matter to the hunter. His axe rose up again and changed color as the materials in it were activated, and Coward immediately attempted to run.

Now very galvanized the other mech from the pirate group moved. They knew for a fact that things were going to be bad if they didn't help. Desperation gave them the motivation courage had not been able to.

Which was a bit of a problem for them because it drew them into range of Morning Star. She specialized in this exact scenario. The mech drew in more power and Lilly grinned as lightning roared around her ride. A halo of lightning appeared above Morning Star's head, and she began to destroy mechs left and right.

Minutes later there were only two functioning mechs. Morning Star and Headhunter Leo's space mech. Both of them were battered but still quite able to fight. If anything, Morning Star looked almost pristine. Aside from a few dings, it looked more like the mech had taken a stroll than just destroyed a few hundred mechs. (To be fair, about half of them had started to flee almost immediately.)

"That was rather pitiful." Lilly noted.

"These groups tend to reflect the attitudes of their leaders." Leo responded as he hefted the mech head. "Bounty was higher than you'd expect for someone so pitiful. Nasty piece of work."

"Honestly the crime list started to blur after the first few I read." The young woman admitted. "I am amused by the trophy though, that's how you got the name?"

"No, but I decided to lean into it." The mercenary admitted as he used a cable to attach the trophy to his mech's waist. "As agreed, bounty is fifty fifty. The trap was well placed."

"Couldn't have done it with another mech." Lilly replied in mild pride. Morning Star was the only mech she knew that had the right mix of aura and capability to both draw attention and survive that. She wouldn't have attempted it had the enemy been more disciplined either. "But about my request?"

"I can put in a few good words. Merc planets are usually government backed, but yours has the right mix of factors to make it attractive. You will have to give up some authority, and the Black Market groups will drive a hard bargin."

"Some authority is fine." Lilly freely agreed but firmed her voice. "Not all of it, and we're going to have rules as to what you can do to the natives."

"I'll pass it on. You familiar with the Kinner clans?" Leo asked.

Completely unaware of them Lilly could only say one word in reply. "Nope!"

"They're a group with some particular belief systems around mercenary work. Some would be willing to move into your area with the appropriate incentives, and they would have both the culture and experience to reinforce what you're trying to make." The man informed her quietly.

"Something to look into then." Lilly acknowledged with a nod he couldn't see. "Would be nice ta get some more reliable people." She hummed to herself as she signaled pickup. "By the way, yer still gonna want a mech from Bolt right?"

"Yes... I'm still thinking about requirements." The man admitted with an almost bashful tone.

The other expert did not giggle on the open comms. It was very close.

 

[lost star]

Lilly was off in space now, making connections and traveling to Cold Grave again. Bolt did not anticipate there being issues. The plan was mostly to go in and check a few things before returning. Minimal risk. Not no risk, but they'd identified most of the major threats on their first run. Two things killed you in salvaging, complacency and the unknown. Neither applied to that expedition.

He wanted to have one thing done before she returned. That would be the rifleman of their group. It was actually relatively good to do it now, his joint patent with Little Big Light had resulted in them sharing more than a few improvements with him. Morning Star's wings had been custom expert designed products. Creating a variation more suited for mass production had been relatively easy for the company once they'd gotten the blueprints.

The now dubbed Feather Chainmail component was both less finicky to repair and a bit less expensive. Not substantially mind you, but it wouldn't be the most expensive component on the mech now, provided he was careful with the design. Which he planned on being.

Designing the system was harder than designing it in the dream. Bolt had known that going in. The wing was naturally the point of pride. It was a essentially a quick deploy shield. With some clever work it could be fully deployed while the mech was firing, giving them a basically one-time block of something big or partial cover against return fire for a short time. That would be invaluable against most enemies.

After this came the weapons. Bolt kept with a laser rifle as the primary weapon despite the local circumstances. The next generation of MTA approved parts would be in a few years, and while the Sandmen were absolutely dangerous, the next generation stuff would all be lasers. Using one of Little Big Light's lasers would mean that when the next generation came about he'd just have to do a few part switches rather than completely revise the design. Bolt anticipated problems with locals more than sandmen as well. It'd be relatively trivial to switch out the weapon if needed anyway.

One laser rifle, medium range, moderate firepower. Basically a middle of the road rifle with few strengths but few weaknesses as well. He probably could tweak it, but he wanted to finalize most of the other things first.

Armor was relatively solid, generator also middle of the line. Really, all of the mech was going to be dead average, which was amusing enough that Bolt deliberately tried to tweak all of the specifications for it. This was harder than it sounded, because there was always a bit of variation, but making a mech dead average all across the board was a strength in itself.

This was going to be an allrounder mech. Which meant you could basically place it in any sort of team and it would add value. Alone, together, with other types and with itself. The backup shotgun on the no-wing side also helped round it all out. This mech would have an answer for anything a person could throw at it.

Of course the mix of projectile and laser rifle demanded some very careful work to be done on the arms. This was actually very tricky. Lasers needed careful precision. Ballistics typically had to deal with the recoil. Their needs had just enough overlap to make it possible rather than impossible. It just required that Bolt sacrifice some accuracy at longer ranges, which was acceptable. Riflemen like this tended to be more workhorse medium range fighters than anything else.

The hands at least didn't need much work. Just a precise trigger finger, a good grip on the trigger hand, and a firm grip on the off hand. Nothing like a melee mech. You could add more, but that added complexity and difficulty in manufacturing. One big thing about design was deciding where you could keep things simple and generic and where you couldn't.

Now all of this taken together made the mech in question average across the board. No part of it stood out statistically aside from the wing. That gave it more durability than your standard rifleman. It wasn't a killer feature though. Bolt could already tell it the mech would be considered a bit of a novelty rather than anything else. A bit too expensive for people who just wanted a rifleman and too generalist for more niche lines. You couldn't even use them as padding since the expense was just a bit higher than a standard rifleman. That wing was costly and he wasn't sure if the added value was worth it.

Bolt was nominally ok with that. He didn't want to release a failure of a mech, but this was supposed to be an internal workhorse. He also wanted to do something special with the spiritual side. That part wasn't visible and wouldn't show up on the specifications.

Before all of that the mech needed a name and a theme. This was the Wounded Angel. The base design brought to mind the older veterans and how they felt more than how they looked. This mech felt like one that had fought so long the battlefield was a second home. In light of that Bolt gave it a few cosmetic colorations that made it look scarred and adjusted the frame here and there to make it look like a grizzled old war veteran of a mech.

Then he made a little figure of it and sort of linked it spiritually with the blueprint. Bolt's examination of Ves' work had given him a lot of things to think about. This was the result of some of that thinking. The other designer had made a sort of central node, the spirit, for most of his mechs. This enforced the spiritual power once the 'scaffolding' was made so to speak. The Wounded Angel was going to have something similar using this.

To use an analogy, Ves made a central server and updated his mechs with it. Bolt was going to make a master copy and have his mechs copied from that. There were pluses and minuses to each approach. It fit Bolt's style better because he was all about refining things in a cycle. The Heart System allowed a mech to improve itself over time. This new mech would be the first one to really lean on that system if he did it right.

It wasn't finished naturally. Bolt strode out of his office and down to the more general areas. The 'local bar' so to speak was a bit more centrally located. It was technically just a mess hall with alcohol, but was really just the local bar.

In there were a few old vets drinking and talking shit with one another. They barely looked up as Bolt entered the room, and only paid him any attention when he set the figure down on their table. They looked at it and then at him. Eventually one of them spoke.

"Gussin' that's a new mech?" He asked. "Ain't sure why yer bothering us with the little toy."

"It's going to be a rifleman." Bolt gestured to the rifle it was handling. "Ya'll remember that ghost shit at Cold Grave?"

"Wasn't there, but everyone's talking about it. Bit funny that we were all told that it was specifically alien stuff that you countered with psi-on-ics." The man drawled out and gave the young designer a look. "Ain't gonna dispute that, but still funny."

"The MTA has opinions." Bolt said simply. "But this is sort of more psionics. Mind grabbing this and focusing on a few battles?" He wiggled the figure on the table with one hand. "I'm doing something special with it. Will foot the bill fer a few drinks so indulge me."

Bolt was quite aware that if he hadn't been practically holding up the mountain on his shoulders the old vets wouldn't have bothered, or they would have just humored him and not actually done it. Instead one by one they grabbed the figure and focused. To help them focus they started talking about it, and then, since the drinks continued to flow they continued talking. More than a few of the stories were ones Bolt hadn't heard before. These were old veterans, some of them had been actual military before being stranded on the planet. They had so many stories.

The day passed and the night came, and more veterans came by and got in on the free drinks in exchange for stories. The designer was more than fine with it. He could almost see the figure absorbing the atmosphere, the memories. It was exactly what he wanted. It was exactly what he needed for this to work right.

He left once everything started to wind down, little figure in hand. He had what he needed and he needed to do the last step. That required one Crystal Heart and some focus. He mirrored the two to one another and then slotted the Heart into a reader with crossed fingers. He was almost sure he did everything right, but as another designer had said, the proof was in activation.

Slowly the designer began to grin as lines started to scroll down his screen. There, in front of him, was the data that a spiritual mech would have if made. As if the mech had been built already. He'd taken another step forward. He had figured out a way to create a master copy. Now all that remained to be seen was if that copy could be used.

 

[lost star]

"Another wunder-kid design?" One of the techs asked as the blueprint came down.

Crane gave a grunt and then a stern glance at the tech. "You got a problem with that?" He asked quietly.

"Depends, we gotta think special again?" The man replied with a cheeky grin. "Rainbows and unicorns this time?"

The foreman gave another grunt as he looked over the instructions. "Nope. Just gotta get yer head in the game this time. This is another experiment."

He didn't complaints from that, but the man probably wanted to based on the face he made. Crane could sympathize some. Your typical assembly was already pretty stressful and required a lot of focus if you wanted to get the job done fast without injury. Changing up something every time was mentally painful, if not physically dangerous. Yet at the same time Crane understood why the golden child was changing things. He was visibly feeling things out and trying to improve every single thing. Crane was willing to cut him some slack, especially because the kid was practically begging for input and feedback after every build. The whole 'psionic' thing had a lot of potential, but it was obviously very finicky too. (Crane actually kind of liked that. It felt like job security.)

This one was another one where the kid was deliberately keeping away from assembly. The instructions were pretty simple too. Just create the mech as normal but install the Heart System with a pre-programmed crystal early. That alone gave people a bit of motivation. No fancy focuses or thinking. Just the job.

"Get the music going!" Someone called out and things began.

A jaunty tune began to play on low volume as people began to move. Creating a mech as a team was far different than doing so as a singular person. This was doubly true for a production line. Every second the printer was not running was wasted money. Every minute a tool was not being used was again wasted money.

This was a first run of a mech though, so that was waved a bit. Instead they documented things and moved at almost half speed, looking for stop points that would make a production run stall. Skeleton wasn't special, so that went up first. Five people hauled up the plates and affixed the joints while the rest did the other production. Next was wiring, and the Heart System early.

"Huh." One of their code readers made a noise as he looked over the input from the cockpit area. "Already has some juice!" He called out and blinked as a number shifted. "Hah, that changed it too!"

"We already knew that numbskull!" Someone called out. "Line it to a terminal and get outta the way!"

"Screw you!" The tech made a rude gesture as he moved off with a small cable in hand.

"Damned wings are still a pain in the ass!" Someone else called out.

"Better than our Pima Dona!"

"Lovely girl, never doubt that, but the wings make me cry every time they come back broken."

"These will still make you cry like a baby, but that's cause you're a whimp!"

"Bastard!" Laughter followed.

A few minutes later, the wing was wheeled in fully assembled by a few people and hoisted up. Things were noted and the part was inspected. A few laser pointers were used to double check that certain relay points worked, and then they routed some power. It flexed and they checked it again.

"They're easier to make, but yeah, ain't gonna be a quick thing to remake." The tech that made them said with a shake of his head. "Think it's worth the cover?"

"Ratings say maybe. Need input from the pilot." One of the men who checked numbers said. "Wonderboy didn't use special armor for this, so it's not really a defense monster."

"Eh, not all of em have ta be snowflakes, and armor specials are usually hell. Least you can pre-make the wing."

"Chatter people!" Crane called out and several people jumped. He strode over to the tech watching the code. "Finding something?"

"You can actually see when someone's got something going on in their head." The tech pointed to a few numbers. "See that?"

"I see data." The elder man replied.

"We got a cascading change when the wing got attached and another one when one of the techs put in the wires. It's not even close to what we have as the master blueprint though." The man brought up another screen.

Crane couldn't make heads or tails of it, but that was why the man was their code reader and not him. Instead he turned his attention to the others. They already had a list. The physical blueprints had notations here and there where things could use some work, and what would need to be sent back to Bolt. Credit to the young man, the latter was pretty small. He was getting better all the time. The first Ghoul production run had required they scrap the first ones off the line and redo half the documentation for fabrication. (Bolt's construction methods were more than a little insane to follow if you weren't practically elite.)

"Muscles are on. Head, fingers, and toes wiggle!" Came the call.

"Armor next. Anchor points ready?" Slabs of armor were rolled up.

"Someone change the song, it's driving me mad!"

"We're not doing rock this you philistene!"

"Quite using words you don't mean you neanderthal!"

The armor plates were hoisted up and then placed into loading arms. Automated power tools began the process of welding and bolting it into place. Unprompted the techs began to do the cleanup necessary for the bay to be reused. Crane watched it with a critical eye and turned back to the guy monitoring the code.

"No good." The tech muttered. "Comparison says fifty percent. I think the special sauce is at a good level, but it's all jumbled."

"It's not finished yet." The foreman pointed out but felt a small sinking feeling.

Not finished yet didn't mean there was a lot left to do. Right now it looked like a failure, which likely meant more experiments to try to get things right and that they'd need to scrap this run. That was always painful.

The code reader looked back at him and didn't say anything, but he was obviously feeling the same way. Cable gave a snort and looked away. He'd read what that Ves Larkinson had required from his techs. It had been almost like a cult, and he'd wanted nothing to do with it. Yet it had resulted in mechs that performed beyond their technical specs. Bolt was chasing that, and the foreman was unsure how he could both help and keep his workers sane.

"Last bit!" Someone called out.

"Boss man, getting the paint and powder ready." One of the line leads said as he moved up and then frowned at the face. "Ya look like we missed a weld."

"That whole psionics thing is coming up again. Gotta get things aligned mentally." Crane muttered. "Was hoping that our kid figured out something with that Heart, but it doesn't look it." He sighed. "Only thing we can do is finish it."

The line lead gave him a look before shrugging. "Can't say I know the fancy stuff, but I don't see why we can't just do some o' that aligning stuff now. Hey pick out a new song! We need one that fits the mech for the last bit!" He called out.

The nearest tech made a rude gesture but turned to the controls and began to fiddle with them. The serious face he made was actually a little comical, but he did seem to be trying his best. A few songs started up and got booed or catcalled as people gave their input. Then they hit an older and almost melancholy one about war.

It got a few laughs, but everyone agreed it fit the new mech. On the lineman's urging they all got up and did a bit of the paint with a paint gun instead of leaving it to the automated systems. They even added a painted scar to one of the eyes.

Something seemed to click then. It wasn't something visible. It was just a click. There was not another word to describe it. There was just a moment where it was a mech and then it wasn't just a mech. It was a mech and something else. Everyone felt it.

"Oh, that did it!" The code-tech's cheerful words broke the spell.

Crane cleared his throat. "Activation checks people! We ain't finished yet!" He ordered.

With a jump everyone stared to do that. The mech wasn't perfect. He was flawed like all first production mechs were. They had to refine the process. Yet they felt like they had the hints of a proper system for the future. This was something they easily train people with. Crane could pick up a young wanna-be and turn him into someone that could do something similar quickly and easily. It was a process that wasn't cult indoctrination.

It wasn't completely automated mass production. It felt better. More human. And something that was definitely a Wrench Rat special.

 

[lost star]

Bolt had been exchanging a few text messages with Lilly when he got the request. His wife was currently halfway done with her trip and would return soon. She'd already scolded him for not making a monster, but did seem to like the rest of it. Something about having an everyman mech seemed very useful to her eyes. Bolt did have to make another monster at some point though. Just because.

That would have to happen after later. Right now he had a priority. The message was a joint from from Mei and the master of the Empties, Jeanne. Considering both designers were from different nations, this seemed rather important.

Jeanne was an older looking woman with short black hair. Mildly attractive, and surprisingly normal looking. She wouldn't have looked out of place in a cafe sipping tea. That was if you ignored her presence. Something about her, even through the viewscreen brought to mind the feeling of burning incense. She was fire in a way that was impossible to describe verbally.

Bolt had encountered one other master through a screen like this so far, and they hadn't felt nearly as present as this woman did. He spared half a moment to wonder if that was because the man had been more or less skilled before he dismissed it. Jeanne was by all accounts a very hands off and isolated master. His research on her indicated that she had few designs in her nation of birth and was not inclined to obviously use the influence being a master gave her. Evaluating her 'strength' at the moment was counterproductive anyway. She was a designer, not a combatant.

"God's blessings be upon you. Thank you for accepting my invitation so promptly." The master began the call with a serene expression.

"I would be a fool to decline." Mei answered and Bolt nodded in agreement. "The topic of conversation is our Shining Shrine Maiden line?"

"Yes. I was quite amused to see your girls being so popular, and would have just left it at that had they not become a rallying point in recent days. People are going to bring them into battle, and I believe you can see the problem there." The older woman responded with a small grin and pleasant tone.

"Lasers are bad versus sandmen." Bolt observed with a small grunt of irritation at the issue.

"Correct. Now normally I would deal with young Shen, but I understand he is currently occupied. So we use what we can. Are you up for both a revision and an update package?" Jeanne asked.

Mei glanced at the screen and Bolt gave another nod. "We are." She said.

"Good, we'll have to do a virtual collaboration by passing the blueprints back and forth because I am quite busy here. We need to revise the laser damage and likely make a proper space package." Jeanne paused and her smile shifted into something a little dangerous. "Bolt dear, I would like to see you use all your talent for this. Forgive me if I burn some of your cover, but to save lives we must use all our tools. I will handle the backdraft."

"Excuse me?" The young designer asked in mild confusion.

The older woman's expression didn't change as she explained. "I consider myself an vessel of divine fire. I know it. It consumes and transforms. It devours. I was very content to keep to the side when you made your adorable dogs, but I would not have the lives of my people lost over secrecy. Consider my words while we work together." She ignored the confused look on both the juniors as they continued to discuss how the collaboration would go.

Bolt's confusion lasted until the conference call was over with. It was only once it was done that he got what the woman wanted. She wanted him to what, consume the design somehow? He wasn't even sure he could!

At the same time he couldn't outright ignore her demand, or try to avoid it. She was right that hiding what he could do would not help with the sandmen. The designer braced himself to try his best and hoped he could keep from stepping on some landmine.

It wasn't hard at first. The design was already fairly optimized and couldn't be changed much. Bolt's hidden master had been very precise with his changes, and Third Rate mechs had little room for real large and sweeping adjustments while retaining functionality.

Making an analogy using pictures, First Rate mechs were made in 3d. Second in color. Third were in black and white. You could make beautiful pictures with just Black and White. You could easily tell what was a masterpiece and what wasn't. You were also very limited.

They had no need to change the frame much anyway. This was mostly an update they would roll out to the active mechs. They needed to make the weapon better versus sandmen and add space capabilities. This necessitated some small changes to the hands and the heating components as well as redoing the weapon, which was an independent component and by design easy to replace if need be.

Bolt added the Heart system as his main contribution. The mech was technically his, so he could add the component without stepping over MTA rules. It didn't add much value, but it added enough in his opinion. He also rather wanted it in the mechs for more private reasons. They were center points of faith and that built up spiritual power. He really didn't want to know what would happen to that stuff if it wasn't managed right.

Mei added some more security to the drones. They were already pretty robust, using line of sight laser communication nodes to get commands, but they were still something that could be hacked. This reduced the chance a small amount.

Jeanne completely revamped the laser mirror. The frequency was changed and how much it fired was also adjusted. It seared Bolt's senses slightly, and the simulations Jeanne provided indicated that the frequency would be far harder for the sandmen to eat. Unfortunately it was so energetic that it would burn out the drones even faster.

This was tolerable for a flaw. Bolt considered it a decent modification on the surface of it. He could have left it at that. Yet Jeanne had asked for him to use everything, and the Shining Shrine Maiden would just be mildly useful now. He felt like it could be better.

So he revamped the changes and ignored how doing it felt like he'd swallowed something too spicy. Jeanne was a master of fire. He did not doubt that. He could not doubt that upon seeing her work. It even lightly touched on the spiritual through her faith. Her fire was holy, and it burned everything she needed it to. That could be enhanced still further if the drones could keep up and he was certain that he could tie it into the faith power it was gathering.

Mei was the weak point unfortunately. Her changes had been tentative and minor. The only thing he could think of change that was using some of her work and forcing her to apply more of herself. Bolt grabbed the drones and grabbed at the Feather Chainmail technology. He adjusted Jeanne's change to a slightly less energetic frequency and had the drones relay and change that energy, then sent a few requests to Mei. The girl knew this tech. She'd worked on it for years based off the notes. She could add things there if she was willing.

The woman was tentative in replies. Bolt sent a few more possible changes to her in turn to give them all possible options and then moved onto other things. He needed to adjust the programming a bit for the Maiden a bit so that the faith changes could propagate right. This required he play with the figures again to get the right mix. It was actually pretty delicate to get going but he managed. (Bolt was going to make them standard now, it was turning out to be a useful technique.)

He finished before Mei could reply and sent the last of his changes to Jeanne for a review. Then moved onto other things. One of the benefits of doing this all remotely was that he could do other work while he waited on things.

A few days later he had no reply though, and his tentative requests for more information were gently dissuaded by Jeanne. Bolt could take a hint. He kept on doing other chores and even spent a few hours down in the construction lines seeing how his mechs were being built. That always helped him think.

Mei's changes came through after a week and a few days. They were completely different than what he expected. She'd redone the drones. They were better. Far better. They converted with precision, and the burnout was decreased enough that they didn't burn out from what amounted to one use. Even more impressive, Bolt figured they were almost un-hackable. They used the unique signature of the Heart System and the line of sight lasers to make the security practically impossible to penetrate.

Useful!

Bolt was quite proud of the revised system. They'd even managed to get a relatively easy adjustment package for space battle. The mech wouldn't function that well without a platform to dump heat into, but it'd work, and frankly platforms were dead easy to make. Making a Third Rate mech function in both space and ground combat was a feat in itself. (If you called sitting in one place and firing functional in space combat.)

Several systems away and in an office Jeanna sipped at her coffee as she looked over the finished design. It was sublime, though not in the most obvious reasons. Journeymen work was always the equivalent of teenage scribbles to a master's eye. She could trace all of Mei's changes. The real art was that Bolt's work mimicked her own. It was like looking at her younger work. She had students she'd mentored for decades that were less able to do that. Anyone that looked at the blueprint would think he'd just added that Heart System of his.

"Whatever this child is, he's dangerous." The master noted out loud. "If I hadn't long since tempered my faith I'd say he was blessed by God or the Devil. The MTA must have internal knife fights about him. I wonder how many want him dead? His very existence challenges every cherished lie they tell themselves is true."

The woman brought up all the notations of the collaboration and let herself grin. That little Heart System update looked innocent, but she'd managed to tease out a bit there. She could see the potential and what it meant. God had guided her into this point and this? This could see more of His will done.

"Ah, I thought myself devoid of ambition, but now it burns again." Jeanne took a deep breath and let it out as she banished the emotions that had started to build. Caution and care had let her survive so far. Fire could burn the user just as much as the target. "Such a lovely child. He gives so freely without knowing how much value he has. Yet that's part of his charm and why he has so potent a protector. I want to see him grow too." She paused and tapped at the screen as she continued. "You'll have to fudge a few things on the MTA side to have them ignore Mei's change. I can cover everything but that. I've burned too many bridges there to do subtle and we need to be thorough. Breaking and rebuilding your foundation happens, but she did it too fast. If they see how Bolt did that they'll forgo every pretense of neutrality."

'Handled.' The one word appeared on a nearby screen.

"Thank you. And thank you for actually showing yourself now." The master said to the screen with a note of amusement in her voice. "Since I have some attention, do you want me to keep my distance? You wouldn't be revealing yourself like this if you didn't have a reason."

'Temper him.' The two words replaced the others without even a flicker.

Jeanne's grin dropped and she nodded. "Ah, to ask that of me and likely knowing my goals and methods. Cruelty or kindness?" She closed her eyes and took a moment to calculate things. "The Lord tests us in many ways I suppose. It will be done, but I expected a favor. He is not my student, and I will have to use unusual methods to do as you ask."

The words were erased and an acknowledged replaced them a moment before disappearing.

Jeanne stared at the screen for a seconds before she let herself sag slightly. She knew for a fact there wouldn't be any traces of intrusion on the system when she checked it. She still would have to redo the security. She wasn't inclined to curse, but hidden masters like this were always so painful to deal with. Hopefully they were keeping obscure for good reasons. She knew for a fact that a few of the more... Eccentric masters just did it because they found it amusing.

 

[lost star]

The update had come out before the sandmen had come. That was the only good thing about it. Changing out parts for the Shining Shrine Maiden had been mildly unpleasant on both the church's pocketbook and her. It had been necessary, but her church had not had the most donations so the changes had wiped them out. Had the cost not been supplemented by the holy leaders they wouldn't have been able to do so at all really. Mary was unsure if it had been worth it. Being present on the lines was her holy duty, but specifically revamping her Maiden to do it had felt indulgent. The decision was out of her hands now. When the call came they answered.

Sandmen didn't do probing attacks. They did not do feints. Their tactics, if you could even call what they did tactics, was mostly just coordinated waves towards targets. They gathered up in the void of space, and unleashed themselves against places with high energy generation. Once they finished, they withdrew, consolidated, and then repeated the process. People had frequently likened them to natural disasters in a system scale rather than an alien war. They didn't claim territory, they ignored things like fortifications and choke points, and so on. They simply attacked and died or attacked and reproduced. It was a binary consideration that was working only because they were obscenely durable. They were rather predictable once you took the time to verify things.

Thus the attack on Mary's planet hit a wall. The Empties were not like their neighbors. No one attacked the Empties for very good reasons. They'd focused almost their entire infrastructure on being left alone. Even the peripheral planets like hers had fortification and defenses. It was holy writ that they defended what was theirs, and they would defend that with fire.

Or in this case, Hellfire.

Putting it politely, before the sandman war, Jeanne's creation had been a flop. Hellfire might have been relatively cheap locally, but it didn't do much more than normal napalm would do. Aside from the rather amusingly named dog mech Cerberus and Jeanne's Cruel Damnation, there had been no other mechs that had used the product. Yet the substance was coming into its own now.

Hellfire burned everything, including the Sandmen. In fact, they were drawn to it, thinking they could eat it. Had it not been an incredibly volatile substance that didn't ship that well, they would have mass produced it and shipped it everywhere to counter the aliens. It was still useful in smaller areas as a mix of trap and frontline defense.

Mary watched as the space lit up in front of her and carefully held the controls of her mech. The little objects were functionally useless, but pilots frequently liked holding onto something when piloting and in times of stress. Her Maiden shifted slightly and she held the weapon in front of her. The new mirror had been polished to a glassy shine that reflected the fires around her and she took a moment to admire it. The members of her church had not been able to contribute much financially so they'd tried their best to get her mech pristine. The mirror was part of that. Seeing the care of her fellows helped her stay focused and motivated. It was needed.

In the distance the invading Sandmen had shifted into it's pillar formation. One long tower-like formation of sand drifted forward and through the attacking ordinance with barely any care. The warship sized construction was dense as stone and even more durable. It was a good formation for dealing with the fires that the quickly designed flamers had been throwing out and still rather ominous to see. Around Mary, the Last Prayers began to fire. The impacts were barely visible, but still visible. Considering the size and density, that was a mildly encouraging demonstration of might. The woman closed her physical eyes as she began to pray over the specific channel set aside for this and readied herself to add her own fire.

Around her the drones started to float up. Her Shining Shrine Maiden prayed with her. It was a religious experience in part. A sermon before an impossible enemy. It kept away the fear from her fellow fighter's hearts.

Light flowed up and into the drones around her. The color shifted in tone as it was bent inside the drones and then directed outwards and towards the target. Lines burned into the Sandman's form as her mech fired everything it could at the enemy.

It was the equivalent of burning the paint off a mech. This was the true horror of the sandmen. None of the damage they were doing mattered really. You either killed enough mass that it couldn't move, or you hit the core. It was a horrible thing to witness. It was also horribly demoralizing. More than a few battles had been lost because the lines and broken and the defenders lost their nerve.

To compound the problem, the Sandmen did not lack ranged weapons. Periodically the pillar would form a hole and then send out a lance of energy from that hole. The cross between laser and plasma blast was utter annihilation to anything it brushed. A good shield could endure a second, and anything else wouldn't even last that. Every mech that could fight had been given a rifle and been told to pray. Physical configuration didn't matter. What mattered was the amount of bullets and firepower they could aim downrange. This was why the Last Prayer had been manufactured so many times. It fired a disproportionate amount of damage for its cost.

Drones burned out and drifted away from Mary. She continued to pray and fire. This was not a test from God. It was a simple a test of life. She would face it with her will and metal. With fire and faith. Along the line her people continued to repeat her words as they fired with everything they had. One by one they died like the drones of her mech were dying. It brought sorrow to her even as it firmed her heart. Better to die here with fire in her heart than live another day in fear.

"Revelation has passed, and all that's left are the sinners. We are damned and blessed in equal measure, locked out of paradise and forced to consort with demons, yet able to achieve greatness and salvation with our own hands." Mary wasn't even saying relevant prayers anymore. Just generic sermons that she recalled. Words were better than nothing. Faith held where reason said nothing would work. "Repent, pray, fight, grasp tightly and live. Let faith and virtue be your sword and shield!"

Around her, her fellows tried. You could tell when a Final Prayer died. They always died spectacularly in some way. Something in their creation made sure that they sold their lives dearly. Had it been in any other circumstance it would have been something to investigate. Mary didn't notice herself. Her focus was on keeping morale up and firing. Here, in the darkness of space, people were dying so that millions could live. The specifics of it didn't matter so long as they died well and in the service for the rest.

More drones burned out. More lives were snuffed out as the Sandman mechanically picked off mech after mech. Mary stared up at the oncoming monster and knew her death was likely soon. She was at peace with that.

Her mech, the Shining Shrine Maiden was not. Something cracked as she prayed. Willpower focused. Faith resounded. The Last Prayers died yes, but they refused to die alone. Each line of faith focused and the mech became illuminated in light. The lasers started to burn more than just the drones. The Sandman almost flinched as parts of it started to catch fire. The mirror that was the Maiden's weapon visibly ignited and started to melt in places.

Mary noticed none of that. It had to be said that she had not been the best pilot before this. Her piloting had been focused on synching with her mech. She'd been a living moral boost. Shining Shrine Maidens were lovely and beautiful mechs that could dance. She'd spent most of her time piloting learning to do that, or praying in sermons. Ceremonial displays that brought faith had been her main work. She could aim just because the mech's laser system was beautiful to behold. She could fight because all she needed to do was center herself and fire at the enemy.

She did not notice her ascendence. She was too focused on her prayers. Her mech started crumble under the power she was forcing into it, but it still fired with fervor beyond what the mech should have been able to sustain. Chunks of its armor melted off. It continued to shoot nevertheless. The shining power increased even. The mech was holding a second sun now and it was not stopping. The newly made expert's power ran through it, and it would only stop with death, either of the pilot, or of the opponent.

The fires traced through the pillar of sand. The ever shifting nature of the sand couldn't stop them from feeding on it. Bits and pieces of it tried to separate, and then suddenly all of its motion stilled. Whether from the fire or a lucky shot, something had hit the central node of the alien. The mass of matter was now just inert and slowly burning material.

Mary stopped her prayers once this became obvious and only then did her mech started to fall apart. It took some frantic effort to pull the newfound expert out of her mech before something damaged her, but it was done in time. The woman barely noticed due to a mix of fatigue and personal revelation. The only thing salvageable was the Heart Crystal, which the woman held tightly to herself as she was pulled out. It was a little hotter than normal but people chalked it up to expert shenanigans.

Report on Planet 70021-Y193, Battle 30249 Sand War

Sandman forces repelled by Expert ascension and defensive force. No further actions of note. Casualty and performance metrics attached.

Mech designated as Last Prayer continues to show statistically unusual performance in desperate situations. This behavior has been labeled as 'specialty expression' and data transferred to 'Heart System Research' as per procedure. No other actions will be taken.

Further monitoring requests have been denied. Reasons: Low priority area.

End Report.

 

[lost star]

As the sandmen continued to advance and break the defensive lines meant to stop them, things became more and more tense. Traffic started to increase around Bolt's planet, and people started to land on it and settle. Mercenaries from all over began to use the planet as a staging ground for other areas.

Things did get a little dicey due to people disputing leadership, but once Lilly returned from her brief adventure she was able to keep a handle on things. Dowry and Morning Star saw frequent use. Of the two Dowry became something like a local legend. Fighting against Morning Star just meant you got destroyed. Dowry gave you nightmares.

Most people were more concerned with making money more than causing trouble once the initial jockeying for authority died down. The surrounding nations were pushing everything they could into fighting the oncoming alien menace. This left many, many openings for the mercenaries that had started to dwell on the planet. Additional security, policing actions, bounty hunting, and the like. There was a general and informal agreement that maintaining order was rather important at the moment, so most jobs were on keeping everything from falling apart than anything else.

Everyone was still in this to make money though, and this was where Bolt's family started to make some real money and influence. Not in just in selling mechs, though they made brisk sales there, but in repairs and supplies. All of the merc companies needed endless supplies of both, and wouldn't you know it? They were the most trusted, and only real source on the planet. This was doubly good because they did affordable prices and could work with mercenary companies to do some sort of repairs. Strengthened companies meant more money and something resembling an economy on the planet finally. (Almost all merc companies had some sort of damage typically. Repairs were very frequently one of the first things to skimp on.)

Battles on the planet didn't stop of course. Mercenaries were belligerent on the best of days, and they were all interested in testing and training to keep their skills sharp. People ended up setting aside a few areas for that to happen. Planets were large after all, and even with the new immigrants the population was still quite low for a planet with an inhabitable biosphere. There were thousands of places the companies could fight one another without actually causing damage to anything native on the planet.

There were other, less obvious, winners too. Lilly had managed to contract with a few space clans. A station would soon be constructed in orbit to make travel up and down easier, and there were regular transportation fleets heading to-and-fro. Their planet was starting to become something that people lived on rather than war-torn mess. There was even something resembling an actual city forming. Sure it was a heavily fortified city, but it was a city!

It was almost hard to remember that all of this was happening because the sandmen were winning and advancing all over the sector. Death tolls were still rising unstoppably. The Rust Bucket had a nice buffer of planets between them and the front, but that could change. Bolt obviously didn't want that. No one really wanted that.

Unfortunately he'd also done all he could. There was a limit as to what he could do as a single designer. More designs specifically for the sandmen would have social implications that he wanted to avoid. It wasn't like his design wasn't helping either. His Last Prayers were being built in the thousands and hundred of thousands, but they were just one gun. One gun did not win a war. There were also plenty of other guns out there, and some were more visible than others.

Ves Larkinson became the name that was really on people's lips. He'd managed to create two mechs that were having more visible impact. One was something that bolstered morale of everyone in the general vicinity. This was important because many planets were throwing out green and terrified troops into the face of death. Every bit of morale helped, and this mech did more than a bit. Just standing around it gave people confidence. That alone made it useful.

The other mech he'd made was even flashier and what was giving him reputation. Called the Deliverer, it was superficially similar to Bolt's Last Prayer in functionality. It was a marksman mech that sacrificed most of it's performance for firepower. It was notably different in function. The thing could somehow predict the movement of the sandmen and persistently hit the core of the alien.

It was hard to understate how valuable that was. Being able to do that consistently went beyond impressive and got into downright impossible. There were no mechanical devices in the mech that allowed it to perform the action. That Ves had managed to make a mech like that should have finished the war and cemented his fame. It would have, had the thing not been so limited in who could pilot it.

"It's the who artisanal versus mass production problem again. Ves' stuff can't be mass produced easily, and that Deliverer can only be used by some religious guys in a particular nation on the other side of Vesia." Bolt explained to Lilly one night after they'd reviewed the data on the war. "I think the numbers are in the low thousands. It's enough to make a corner of the sector safer and is really giving that nation a lot of clout."

"In the meantime we've lost a few more planets and the shield nation next to us is about to fall." Lilly concluded for her husband and sighed before leaning against him. "At least the Empties isn't faltering yet."

"They haven't been pressed seriously. The shield nation lasted longer than expected and gave them breathing room to form up though so they might hold longer as well. They'll still be getting hit soon, along with the Serenes and Vesia." Bolt gave his wife a hug. "And the MTA still says it's not their issue."

"Course." Lilly responded with a snort. "God forbid they do something. Anything on your contacts?"

"The Rim Guardians are not happy. They aren't saying it flat out, but there's some serious blowback from the MTA's handling of this. The news might even spread to other sectors. Bubbles is busy enough that she can spare only a few lines of text. The others are occupied with their own work." Bolt reported and shook his head. "Nasty business. I wish I could do more."

"You've done a lot. Dunno why yer getting so little talk on the national scale. Your stuff works pretty well." Lilly sounded slightly outraged at the lack of attention.

Bolt knew why. His Last Prayer was being used by the desperate. They sent fire downrange. If they won it was because they'd sent enough. There was nothing glorious about it. In public views his mechs were practically invisible. Which was mildly amusing because last he'd checked, they'd crossed the million mark for mechs produced.

"I am getting some mentions. Just in different areas than I expected." The designer admitted.

"Oh?" Lilly gave him a poke. "Tell me!"

"Jeanne bought out Little Big Light somehow and is putting more Shining Shrine Maidens into production. I think she bought it so that she can make expert mechs for a few experts in her nation. Got a few pilots that advanced using the mechs and they want to keep em apparently. This smooths out the licensing stuff." Bolt explained.

He was simplifying it a lot. Jeanne buying out another countries military company was close to being a political scandal. Only the very unique circumstances they were in kept it from being a problem. Having a few pilots ascend using their models also lent a lot of prestige to the company, so it was 'reasonable' for her to grab it. Bolt figured it also let her use the blueprints and parts for the expert mechs without jumping through hoops. The cut in paperwork alone might have been worth it for the master.

"A few advanced using the Maidens?" Lilly responded with a bit of surprise.

"That isn't that strange." It was normal for a designers. "I'm a mech designer. People are going to become experts with my mechs. If anything I'm a little flattered." Bolt explained with a small chuckle. "It's actually a big compliment! The only strange part is they want to keep with the model."

Experts had big opinions on their mechs. Getting to design them was a privilege apparently, and the fact that Bolt did that regularly for Lilly was a point of envy for his friends. That recently advanced pilots wanted to keep with their mechs meant they liked something very specific about the mechs. Shining Shrine Maidens were fairly useful mechs, but they were not the first one you'd think an expert would pilot. Even the most dedicated of artillery experts wanted a little mobility. In firing mode the Maidens had absolutely none.

"Maybe I should pilot one of those again." Lilly mused.

"If you want one we'll have to make one that you can push." Bolt pointed out. "You'll snap our current ones in two."

The expert shook her head and elaborated why immediately. "I'm already being spoilt by the fact I have two mechs. I couldn't ask the family for more, even if we're starting to get a lot."

"I don't think it's spoiling you so much as using your abilities. Having two makes you less predictable. We could even add another at some point!" Bolt chuckled at the look he got for the small joke. "Maybe after I study some more. I'm going to be getting a lot of material shortly."

"Oh?" Lilly asked curiously.

"There's so many Last Prayers being destroyed that they had a surplus of Crystal Hearts that are being sent my way rather than reuse them elsewhere. I've been getting a fair bit of digital data from them, but having them physically here will answer a few questions." Bolt explained.

"Ah. Boring research then." Lilly concluded. "That reminds me. Did Leo ever get a message to you?"

"He did. We have a ballpark budget that he wants the mech to be in and he's given rather late timeframe for it. He said something about a lot of work?" Bolt trailed off in a leading tone.

Lilly snorted. "Ah, with the battles ramping up, internal crime is getting a bit bad. He's probably literally headhunting."

"Ah." Bolt sighed out. That would get worse before it got better, and it wasn't something they were immune to. Leo probably didn't want to change out his familiar mechs while there was so much action.

That was sort of the way of crises you got winners and losers, and there was always bad news. About the only good thing about galactic news was the CFA was officially starting to sweep out the sandmen outside human territory. That meant that 'all' they needed to do was kill the ones attacking them.

 

[lost star]

There was now a small mountain of storage containers in front of Bolt. Each one contained heart crystals, neatly packed. Each one contained the last wills and memories of pilots. He hadn't really gotten the scale of the war until this had been dropped off. Based on the silence of the other people, he didn't think anyone else did either. These were the crystals that hadn't been passed on as well. This was a small amount compared to what was out in the galaxy at the moment. The size of it was humbling.

Bolt opened one container and looked inside. Blocks upon blocks of Crystal Hearts. He ran a finger over a few of them. Some contained rage, some were resignation, many were terrified. It was only now that the ramifications of his actions came to him. These were the last records of people that would have been forgotten in any other circumstances.

What had he created?

The young designer closed up the storage unit and pressed his forehead against the metal as his mind raced. There were roughly ten thousand Hearts here. If he had them reused locally, they'd probably take about three to five years or so to get through them all depending on sales and other factors. That was an option, but was that the best one? The spiritual power here was potent and inconsistent. Some of the crystals contained records of breakthroughs. The energy in those was so thick he could almost taste it. Others had so little it was like they'd been barely used.

Experimentation and inspection was going to be needed before he made a decision. Bolt grabbed one of the more potent crystals and reviewed the memories. It was not pleasant. It was actually rather horrible. Trying to read a crystal without knowing the person was hard in itself, but these were the memories of people that died. The only reason it wasn't the worst experience he'd ever had was because he knew this had already happened. Tragedies were less painful to see when you knew the ending.

Two people had gotten to expert with this crystal in the cockpit. The energy swirled within it, and yet it didn't feel coordinated. Bolt frowned at it. He had questions. So many of them. What would be best to address first? How experts were formed? That was an interesting question, and something worth investigating, but he wasn't sure this was the best method of gathering information. It showed what the guy was feeling, and that was something any expert could tell you. He'd been worried about a mech gaining sentience right? This was one of the most potent spiritual containers he'd seen. It was above Morning Star and Dowry. It didn't feel like enough. Had he been wrong? Or did it need even more? Did it need to be connected to a mech?

He had intuition and a few data points. That was not nearly enough to make a conclusion. This was potent, but was it potent in the grand scheme of things? Bolt hefted the crystal, grabbed another, and then called up Lilly. They would have to experiment blindly.

A few minutes later they were in front of Morning Star. Bolt examined the mech again just to be sure and compared it to what he had in his hand. Then he reviewed the history and statistical growth of the mech. "Ok, it has been gathering power, but it's hasn't increased a lot. It spikes when you pilot, and more when you fight based on some rough ballpark measurements."

"So we're on the same page, this is that spirit stuff right?" Lilly asked.

"Yep." Bolt nodded and held up one of the crystals he'd taken from storage. "You feel anything from this?"

"Gimmie." The expert took the crystal and then almost dropped it. "Wow, it's really warm, and feels... Desperate I think."

"Two experts ascended with it and died before they could do anything." Bolt informed his wife and took the thing back. "So, my thought is that we feed most of the power in here to Morning Star to see if there's a threshold for something to change. This is the most controlled test I can make, and we need to answer more than a few questions."

"Ain't happy about experimenting with her, but at the same time if it's just somethin' that will happen best ta get it done outside of battle." Lilly sighed and climbed into the cockpit, with Bolt following her.

The mech started up with a purr and Bolt tapped the crystal he was carrying to the crystal already in the cockpit. Then he very carefully began to sort of grab the power from the crystal, clear it of the emotions, and almost feed it to Morning Star. It was surprisingly stressful and sort of like moving something heavy. The first one was fed into Morning Star without an issue, and then he started to use the second one.

"Hmm." The pilot made an ambivalent sound as she focused in an attempt to follow what her husband was doing. "Don't feel much. Does feel a bit. Oh, wait!"

Bolt stopped immediately.

"It's going kinda swirly!" Lilly informed him with wide eyes.

"Swirly is not-" Bolt tapped his hand on the mach. "Ok, it's not descriptive, but it's also the best way to describe it." He muttered.

In essence the energy was starting to swirl around and collapse on the mech. If he were to liken it to anything, it'd be a star forming. Bolt that was the mental impression he was getting at least. It was not a precise science. The movement was surprisingly enthralling to feel. The result was less so, because something ignited while he was watching, and then the designer had a distinct impression that something had been formed in the mech. He could literally feel the mech's presence becoming deeper in a way that wasn't physical.

Bolt stared at the metal and groaned internally. On one hand he was right, on the other hand, this complicated things immensely. Lilly had closed her eyes and was frowning.

"Neat." The girl said. "Give me a bit before you start panicking hun." She practically ordered her husband.

Oh sure, why would he panic here? He'd just made life in a war machine. Sure he'd made the Heart System to avoid some complications, but he did not like that it had happened in the first place!

"It's not a person." The expert sounded out slowly as she tried to commune with the mech. "It's more like there's more processing power now. It feels more intuitive and responsive maybe? All I can say for certain is that the mech has more something now."

"That doesn't help me or anyone else that much. The question is, is this good or bad for a pilot?" Bolt asked the real question on his mind. "Actually, is this even good for the mech?"

"Only one way to answer that! Test it!" Lilly said and made a shooing motion. "Give me a few hours."

Bolt got out of the cockpit without protest and watched as the woman went through the steps to take her mech out of the hanger. He frowned down at the crystals he'd used. There was still some energy in them, but not nearly as much. If he was right, it took maybe something like three experts breakthroughs worth of power to make a mech coherent like Morning Star had become. This was a vague guess and not something he'd call an official estimate either. It brought up so many implications and questions that he had no idea where to start.

The designer made his way back to the storage containers and double checked what he had stored. There were a grand total of five crystals that had two breakthroughs and no others. This felt like a lot, but at the same time he wasn't sure how statistically applicable it was. The Sand War was relatively unique in pilot turnover due to a variety of factors. He didn't have the numbers for how frequently people advanced in wars like this. They were also irrelevant. Assuming this went galaxy wide he'd still get a lot of mech spirits over time. Assuming that the crystals were passed on when the pilot died, a spirit was inevitable. It might take centuries, but that would happen.

Bolt didn't want that. Or well, more accurately he didn't want them being created and then discarded into junk heaps because people didn't notice. He didn't want them torn apart or destroyed accidentally or deliberately either. Or perhaps worse. These newborn spirits would be great sources of power, and Bolt had no desire to even allow them to be sacrificed on the altar of greed.

Hadn't he thought of how Ves had created an unsecured link? Bolt was setting the basis for a series of lives that would know nothing but war, violence, and the worst of humanity without a hint of security. At least people had the afterlife to look forward to. Who knew what these mechs did?

The young man nodded to himself as he made a decision. He knew what he wanted to do. He mentally reached for that terrible, terrible knowledge of that devouring thing in Cold Grave. He then cut it apart and picked up one particular thread. The way it pulled things in. That was useful for his purposes. He wasn't going to use the knowledge there, but he could take the inspiration from it to make something useful for his purposes!

Time to make a mech afterlife!

Inspiration raced through him at the solution. Bolt could practically envision how he wanted to do this already. It would involve a lot of cheating. Spiritual stuff was all metaphysical and ideals. He was the founder of the Heart System. When this was rolled out, everything would be derived from him very technically. This gave him a tiny bit of spiritual weight that he could use as a lever. He could also use the galactic communication network to cheat on the other part of the equation. The best part of that was he didn't need to actually use the network so much as the concept of it! Bolt barely noticed as he stared to grab materials.

When he came back to his senses, Bolt realized he owed his family a portable FTL device.

He genuinely didn't recall when he'd grabbed the thing from storage or how he found himself in the basement. It felt right though so he kept building. What he had to do was sort of tie a few concepts together. The FTL transmitter was the draw. Or rather a path. He was not going to force any spirits into anything. Instead he wanted a safe spot. A sanctuary.

Which in retrospect was why he was in one of the safe rooms. This was a safe spot. So, Bolt now had a path to a safe spot, and the beginnings of a safe spot. That required some spiritual power, probably a lot, and all of it wound together in a way that something more powerful couldn't destroy or plunder it.

Doing this was not something he had the knowledge for. That was ok though! Bolt rushed up to his quarters and grabbed a particular figure and then rushed down.

'Sorry for the abrupt request, but you specialize in defense right?' Bolt mentally asked the model that was connected to the alien lizard spirit.

He got an affirmative reply.

'Let me try to transmit what I want, and we can talk price.' The designer closed his eyes and carefully presented his thoughts and what he needed.

The sudden surge of interest and enthusiasm was more than a little surprising.

Bolt opened his eyes and grinned. Then he began to plan with the spirit. He double checked everything for traps of course, but it all looked pretty solid and didn't actually hinge on alien's participation. Qilanxo, which was the spirit's name, showed him what he needed and what he could do. Her 'payment' was simply the ability to hide in there as well, which he granted freely.

The end components were the FTL communicator, a computer, and all the Crystal Hearts. Bolt thankfully didn't have to haul the latter down, he just needed to connect them all concept wise. This involved some rather intensive work on the spiritual plane and required a significant amount of the spiritual power in the Hearts.

Ultimately the concept was relatively simple, and that was why it was working out so easily and quickly. Spirits could move at will through the spiritual realm. The spiritual realm didn't actually have 'distance' as a concept in truth. They had points related to them. Qilanxo could talk with him and be connected to a mech at the same time because to her they were basically next door.

Bolt was the creator of the Heart System. He was connected to all of the Crystal Hearts in the galaxy therefore. He could functionally use that connection to connect to something else. In this case a computer server he'd repurposed for this. So now, all mechs were connected to the server.

He then added the FTL communication array. Now the server was connected to the galactic network. (Not really, the array was off and disabled.) Thus all mech spirits could now connect to the server and if necessary move to it.

Security wise, it was immensely secured on the spirit's end. Thanks to Qilanxo, the place was an expertly crafted place of conceptual rest and recovery. It was a sanctuary for mech spirits. Anything that tried to disrupt it would have to fight both the infrastructure and any mechs that chose to use it. In time Bolt imagined that it would be like fighting an army.

The big problem was on the physical end. The computer effigy that stood in as a server could be compromised if something with the proper knowledge physically touched it. Bolt had the place locked up now, but that would have to be addressed. He'd likely look into both spiritual and physical protectors later. Perhaps see about mirroring the server in a few places as well. Due to the server base Bolt could likely just spread the servers around a few areas, and since they didn't actually need to be connected no one would be able to locate them.

Making this required basically all the spiritual power he'd gotten from the Crystal Hearts. That was perfectly fine though. This was an investment! The system was stable now that he'd managed to get it aligned. The memories hadn't been touched either, so Bolt still had a lot of last wills left. He'd have the crystals placed in storage and maybe used later depending on how respectful it felt. That was something he could delegate probably.

It was only after all of this work was done that Bolt realized he could have just tried to inhibit the creation of spirits in the first place. It probably would have been easier and less mind breaking. Whoops?