What's Junk? (The Mech Touch)

[lost star]

"Who the fuck attacked us?!"

That was the general question on everyone's mind. Getting assaulted was one thing. Getting assaulted by Second Rate mechs in this area was another thing. That was both extremely expensive and something that was only possible through government backing. This cost was compounded by the stealth mechs. Stealth mechs were always something that people hid the designs on. You didn't get the good ones out in the public domain because that would just invite easy counters. Stealth mechs were always best as hidden daggers. There were a grand total of two possible states in the sector capable of an operation like this.

It was obvious which of the two it was. It was also equally obvious that it didn't matter. The mechs had been stripped of identifying markings and they weren't in general databases. The pilots and attackers, all women, were all dead and likewise lacked markings. It might have been obvious, but there was also just enough deniability that the Hexadric Hegemony could disavow the entire operation. Even the stealth mechs were just unusual since the primary designer wasn't in the public databases.

"It's almost generically standard Hexxer tech." Bolt told Lilly as he looked over the ruined machinery. "They use a specific set and number of bolts in all their works, frequently to the point of causing structural issues."

"Seriously?" The expert asked as she patted the Fu-Dog next to her.

The new defensive 'mech' had rapidly become a favorite of the mountain. So much so that Bolt had made two more of them. (With spirit consent of course.) He'd done some refinement on the design and added a few small infantry scale weapons to complete the setup. They could actually work in the mountain indefinitely if the population kept active due to various reasons, but would be utterly useless outside. This was more than acceptable and made them a very useful new defensive measure.

"Yes. They're obsessed with the number six and hexes. So much so that you could probably tell if I showed you a few bits." The designer snorted. "It also doesn't matter that much. I reported it to Bubbles, and she's going to try to get something done, but officially the MTA has no statement to make."

"So that's it then. They try to kill us and we just have to take it?" Lilly's pat turned into a grip that fortunately couldn't hurt the metal monster she'd been stroking.

"There will be something. It's just going to take time and likely not specifically pay us. There's a reason I'm looking through this aside from the obvious." Bolt responded quietly and with very real anger in his voice. "They killed a lot of good people. We both have seen that shit happen and can almost accept it. It was going after the kids and families that really pisses me off. That's when you go for the eyes and nuts and make sure they bleed."

"Ya think ya can get proof?" Lilly asked with wide eyes.

"Not quite. Ya see, a lotta stealth systems aren't public." Bolt explained with a shake of his head. "There's a lotta reasons, but mostly cause the big guys like ta keep it close to the chest. I'm gonna figure it out and then sell it to the Fridays. It will net us some money, and give them a big middle finger too."

Lilly stared at him. "I don't get it?" She said.

Bolt chuckled. He didn't blame her. It required a fair bit of cultural context. The surface of it was really simple though. "Basically, cause I'm a guy, they'll hate me fer proving that their tech is something I can understand. Little rat like me getting his grubby hands on their stuff? That's like Satan himself walking up and dragging his balls over their face."

"Seems like a good way of getting them pissed off more then." Lilly observed the big problem.

"What are they gonna do, try ta kill us harder?" Bolt then nodded. "You are right though. It's just that while the MTA might not be doing anything right away they did inform me that they've taken steps to prevent this from happening again. If some more Second Rate mechs are dropped in they'll have more than words."

In point of fact, Bolt was fairly sure that the MTA would nail the Hegemony to the wall with great relish if they tried something so blatant again. Bubbles hadn't outright told him to hurt them, but officially had the MTA's blessing to do whatever he could do in retaliation. The Hexxers were just shy of being put on the MTA's formal shit list. Something like that would be outright crippling to the nation.

"It ain't blood, but I suppose it will have ta do." Lilly eventually said before sighing. "I'm going to see about kicking up morale a bit."

The young man nodded at his wife. They didn't do elaborate funerals and things like that, but there was going to be a lot of drinking over the next few days. Lilly would fit in better on that end than hovering around him. Morale wasn't actually that low though. They'd fought and won against Second Rate mechs while also gaining a new expert. They had lost enough that it hurt, but it was still a win. They had pulled off something near impossible in the conventional sense.

What Bolt was doing was just another near impossibility. Trying to decipher secrets from destroyed mechs was hard. Trying to do it from things that had been deliberately destroyed was harder. Trying to do it from a level above him would have been impossible for anyone else.

Bolt did have several advantages though. This was probably the pinnacle of what his personal design ethos was meant to do. He had also already worked with Second Rate tech, and even had a small grounding in First Rate technology thanks to MTA lessons. Furthermore, he had spiritual nonsense!

The last part was something he was putting together on the fly really. It felt right. Every since he'd returned from the Stone Shaper world he'd been studying and doing small tests. It was time to try something unique and completely his.

It started with the normal recovery.

Picking apart and identifying the parts of the mechs. All of them were pretty damaged. The self destruct was pretty good at totaling the big parts of a mech. It wasn't meant to really destroy everything though. It couldn't. Mech were weapons of war. They needed to be able to take damage. Self destruction was contrary to that. Having a good self sabotaged option meant you had a mech that could be damaged.

He had four stealth mechs. All of their internals were fried in various ways. They were fried in various different ways though. If you took all the working parts and merged them together, you had about... Half a working mech.

This was actually a good sign from a salvagers perspective. Very typically you had to pull from something like five or six broken mechs to get something that could run, and that was if you got lucky. Typically you needed a good dozen or so. Inoperable mechs were inoperable for a reason after all. Good designers made sure they took a lot of damage before they dropped. You typically had one or two good parts from each wreck, unless the cockpit had been pierced. (Then you had a ghost mech that was both lucky and unlucky at the same time.)

After he finished pulling out the good parts from the wrecks Bolt moved onto the next part. This was basically filling in the gaps and where a lot of reverse engineering struggled. Since Bolt wasn't trying to get a fully functional mech he could skip a lot. He didn't care about the reactor for instance, and that was probably the only thing he couldn't recreate. Reactors were one of the biggest physical separators between tiers, and self destructs used them to destroy the rest of the mech typically. He lacked everything, from materials to expertise, to remake one. Which wasn't really a bad thing. If he could make a Second Rate reactor with his materials and setup he wouldn't be making Third Rate mechs!

His restoration wasn't like coloring the blank spots on a coloring book. There were significant chunks missing in the mech. That was fine. Bolt very carefully started to pick at the feel of the mech rather than the form. He defined the designer. He took the feelings they'd put through the mech, the hopes and dreams, and pulled them out. He 'devoured' them, though that was being dramatic. There were just trace elements to go off. Paltry base thoughts and impressions that were hidden under who'd made the mech. It gave him information though, and let him almost see the one that had created this design.

The core design system wasn't made by a master. It was made by a senior at best. The entire pattern reeked of indoctrination. The person that made them was dedicated to the state above all else, and this mech had suffered for it. Sequestered away in the dark, alone, and with only their superiors as points of contact. She had scribbled away and learned not because she wanted to, but just because. There was no soul or passion here. Only absolute and mindless dedication. A slave in everything but name. The design was crude, unimaginative, and souless.

Bolt had never met the woman who'd designed this mech. He didn't know her. He couldn't. He really and genuinely pitied her. He'd also put her down like a mad dog if he met her. This was seeing scribbles on a wall written in blood. The words might have been valid, but the writer was not well.

Once he had a feel of the designers mindset he was able to almost finish the design. He could identify what decisions she'd made and where she'd placed important components. The sound mufflers were in the ankles, a bit above the joints there and threaded through the soles. The vision obscuring was actually a set of shield emitters in several points, also nearby the joints. The radar obscurement was mostly paint and physical design with a side of emissions around the back.

Bit by bit Bolt identified it all. He picked apart the mech's strengths and weaknesses. He verified how it worked and what the flaws were.

Neither the technology nor the mech were particularly innovative. Stealth was never just one system. It was multiple ones. The tricky part was always in coordinating it all in one package and keeping ahead of the local sensory package. His people had lucked out that scent had been a low priority for this stealth system.

Despite the flaws, this was a mech he couldn't really replicate. As a designer of Third Rate mechs, Bolt could tell that a stealth system was functionally impossible for Third Rate. There just wasn't enough room to do it. Even this mech had struggled with it. There had been several very critical tradeoffs to make it work.

By this point Bolt had mostly recreated the mech. It was still missing a few parts due to his lack of the appropriate exotic materials, but that was fine. He had notes. If he were to hook it up to a reactor, the mech would be functional and have about ninety percent of it's original performance. He had already written up an analysis and a breakdown of everything about it.

Bolt didn't feel satisfied though. He had a near rebuilt mech and he felt more frustrated than anything else. He debated a moment internally before he decided he needed to do something more with this knowledge. But what?

He couldn't make a stealth mech at Third Rate. Well, he could, but it wouldn't be able to do anything. The power requirements alone would cause the thing to be barely functional. Perhaps if he cut most of the functions and did the bare minimum, but that would take thought and likely cost far too much to be worth it.

Bolt sent a message to his father. His family would contact a few neutral brokers and see if there were buyers out there. The Friday Coalition should be interested in both the near intact stealth mech and the swordsman. Getting that sort of thing always helped in war and even if they didn't want them, someone else would.

He still felt frustrated.

The young designer sighed and tried to put it out of his mind. He'd figure out something later. Just like he had to figure out how he was going to get a senior designer or above to help with Pup's new expert mech.

 

[lost star]

Bolt tapped at the design pad. He then tapped some more. He took a deep breath. What should he do? What should he do?

He lacked inspiration. He also sort of lacked a crucial factor. He couldn't make an expert mech without a senior or greater help, and he didn't have that at the moment. This wasn't going to happen in the future either. Designing felt pointless with that in mind. He turned the pad off and began to wander.

The mountain hallways had not changed aside from a few scrapes here and there from the new Fu-dogs patrolling. The things had decided that the best way to defend the place was continuous patrol. When they weren't recharging at their little shrines / recharging stations, they were roaming the halls. There were a few complaints about that, but most people seemed to like the security it implied. The spirits in the mechs loved it as well. Something about the purpose and duty combined with the reverence was strengthening them.

Bolt was reminded again that he still knew so little about, well everything. It a heady feeling that washed away a lot of his current frustration. There was so much to learn and discover! It was like when he was first learning. The horizons were endless and the possibilities infinite.

"How do you work?" The words reached him before the designer could see the speaker.

The voice was familiar and around the corner. A few steps later and they were in view. Gadget had almost crawled up one of the Fu-dogs and was poking at various things in an attempt to plot out the machine's functions. She looked more than a little frustrated as she climbed down and brought up the blueprint on her comm. The Fu-dog looked as amused as a machine could look at the situation.

"Ya aren't gonna figure it out that way." Bolt called out.

"Brother!" Gadget blew out a frustrated breath of air. "How?!" She gestured emphatically to the guardian.

"Well first, quit bothering the war machine." The older tech said with a small grin. "Then I suppose yer old big bro can tell you a few things."

"Nothing about it makes sense." The young girl complained as she slowly followed his lead.

"Course nothing about it makes sense. We're missing like half the equations for reality." Bolt shot back before he amended himself quickly. "No, more like... Hmm. How would I describe it really?"

Gadget gave him a sour look as he continued to dither. "You are supposed to be explaining things not confusing me more."

"I'm trying, but I haven't done it verbally yet." The designer led them into his designing room and took a seat. He also had a few things he had to keep secret and non-verbal. Which was good practice really. "Let's go with this. So far as I can tell there's a bit of a second layer on reality."

"Are we getting into FTL physics?" The girl asked almost eagerly.

"No." Bolt said before wincing. "Though maybe? I'm really just an amateur. Can't call myself an expert. But basically there's the physical, and a layer alongside it. The powers that be call it psionics. I call it spiritual. The name doesn't matter so much as what the stuff does. For all I know, FTL uses some of it."

"So magic." Gadget concluded with far less enthusiasm.

That got a chuckle. "I think it's called that too." Bolt said while chuckling again and continuing. "But the core of it is that something is created when living things live, die, think, and have other emotions. Really hard ta define cause it's not visible and humans can't touch it at all. Tis what gives a lotta aliens freaky special powers. Humans got nothing compared ta them."

Gadget stared at him. "We got nothing?" She asked incredulously.

"Reality is haves and have nots. Humans as a race have absolutely no sense that feel it and no abilities that touch that energy by default." Bolt advised back while taking a seat and revving up a few of the displays. "Doesn't mean we can't use it. It just means we need to do more than squishing our faces up and wishing hard. Humans make tools. Ain't like we can see heat fer instance, but I can bring up a heat camera in a few seconds." He did so as an example.

Gadget frowned at the screens. "So why lecture? Give me the tools and let me try!" She half asked and half demanded while making grabbing motions.

"Still workin' on that part. The Heart System I have in mechs does a lotta it right now." Bolt explained and very carefully didn't even hint at his guesses on why it worked so well. "That stuff only works cause o' the human element working with mechs. Making something the average person could use is a lot harder."

"That explains why you used that crystal in the blueprint. That doesn't really explain everything though." The young girl took a seat of her own and pulled up the Fu-dog blueprint.

"Yep. That's part o' my latest project. The hint here is why I prefer spirit as a name for all this jazz." Bolt replied with a small grin.

Gadget was smart, she picked it up immediately. "You put ghosts inside. How?!"

"Special sauce!" Bolt replied back and chuckled as his sister looked for something to throw at him. "One moment." He grabbed a few materials he kept in a side bin for models and such.

This was actually going to be something he needed to do at some point. The primer he was thinking of had to speak of spiritual senses and such, but how do you show that to someone that has never felt it before? Bolt had thought about if a fair deal. Humans couldn't really do things the way other races did. They were firmly grounded in the physical realm. They could only do a tiny amount.

Yet, hadn't he already proved that tiny amount was enough? You just needed some guidance on how to develop the right tools and senses. Everything else would come from being a human. One didn't need the strength to move a mountain. They needed a shovel. Or a bulldozer.

Humming to himself Bolt crafted a small Rubix Cube. He then used tiny, tiny bits of exotics to each of the faces. He then added a small verifier. Once the cube was in a proper position the thing would flash. With all of this done he colored all of the sides a singular color and gave the new toy a few twists.

"Ok, this is the first step. Getting a sense of spirit." Bolt set the cube down. "Exotics have a tiny trace of spirit in them. Everyone has a different way of feeling that spirit if they develop it. You need focus and intent to develop it." He pushed the item to Gadget.

The girl frowned as she grabbed at the cube and felt it with her fingers. "You do know you can solve these blindfolded right?"

"If you can think o' a better tool let me know." Bolt said back before giving a shrug. "Once you can sort of feel it, ya can start to interact with it. It takes a lot of will and a lot of effort. Remember humans got nothing so we can only do the bare minimum with just our will." He had more than a normal human, but he still didn't have a lot. "I think that is more than enough to do whatever we need. Let me know when you get a sense and I can give you what I have written up, or do some tutoring."

"I want both." Gadget practically demanded as he fingers flipped the cube around. "You owe me big brother time."

"Really?" Bolt asked with a grin. "And when did that get established?"

"Just now. You need a break from those icky mechs anyway." The cube in the girl's hands flashed which drew a frown. "I might need a different puzzle. I'm going to remember the solution by rote."

"I'll brainstorm some. And icky mechs?" Bolt laughed softly at the description. "Still hate em?"

"Yes. They might be better than fighters in the sand war, but I don't like them anyway. Too many things that don't make sense!" The girl's frown increased. "They use spirit nonsense too don't they?"

"Mine do. The rest, might use a little bit. I don't have facts there." Bolt's answer was particularly noncommittal. "A lot of of it is likely very secret and not something to pry into."

"Of course." Gadget set the cube down with a sigh as he enthusiasm clearly dropped. "I'm going to go think on this ok?"

"Please feel free." Bolt said back with a small wince.

She was a very smart girl who picked up a lot of context. Some of it was about things he had only guesses on. As much as he hated that sort of thing, she was also smart enough to know why secrets stayed secrets.

Bolt spent a few minutes looking up how her lessons were going once she left. The girl was racing along. Which was both good, and bad. Good because she was a brilliant young girl. Bad because they were running out of general educational material and would need to let her specialize soon. The problem was what? The CFA ship building course was expensive, and she wouldn't use half the tech.

Perhaps he should see about a mentor? But who? How?

Bolt sighed and pulled out his comm. His expensive, First Rate comm. "I know I'm speaking with an automated program, but I don't suppose you could spare a moment to recommend something for my sister? She wants to get into making space ships and I really have no idea how to help. Perhaps I should talk with the Rim Guardians on it, but I'm not certain that's the best option. They'd what, arrange for her to be mentored with some Third or Second Rate shipyard?"

It'd be a good career, but it felt so limited too. Bolt wished he had better answers. Nothing he could find fit what he wanted really.

Now that he was thinking about it though. "Look at me, asking for something here already." Bolt laughed at himself. "I shouldn't be. She has a good life ahead of her no matter what. Is this what I'll feel like when I have kids? This is how those young master tales start isn't it? Asking for special treatment. Haaa. If you review this, sorry for even asking." He turned off his comm.

He'd figure something out alone.

 

[lost star]

Bolt spent the next few days in something of a rut. Nothing serious enough to stop work, but he since he wasn't able to make progress on Pup's new expert mech he felt more than a little stuck and lacked the desire to really design. He switched to review instead and looked over a few other things.

The most prominent future project that would progress his ability was creating a mental computer. He actually had the components for that now in his opinion. The mental 'engine' and the 'programming' and so on. He even had the ability to make an interface if he wanted to. His skill still felt lacking though. He wanted to get more practice making things under his belt before he started a few prototypes.

In light of that need he decided to work on Mech-halla while he tried to throw off his malaise. He made it a point not to change much. He just monitored the alterations the spirits were doing and carefully adjusted one or two minor things here and there to see what happened. It was a cross between practice and debugging. While it was neither needed nor significant, it did give him valuable practice.

Eventually work called and he had to try to focus. Bolt's inquiries about selling the near-intact stealth met got decent enough offers that they accepted them, and the family got a decent chunk of change. Enough to actually afford an expert mech flat out with money left over. Which was nice, but still didn't fix the Senior issue.

The only solution they had was to work with mercenaries again. Getting a decent senior to assist was expensive. Even a Third Rate one demanded premium money. This was even more expensive when one accounted for travel time. The mech would have to be assembled in the mountain, and getting to it would take a lot of time. It hurt his frugal soul to contemplate hiring someone. Bolt was almost ready to do it anyway before Bubbles sent him an unusual message.

"You can do it?" Bolt asked incredulously when he got a call setup.

"Yep." The woman said with a nod. "Consider it an off the books apology from the MTA. Officially I'm doing an authorized personal project with a person of interest."

Bolt honestly didn't understand. MTA designers were expensive, and for good reason. Bubbles had enough expertise to do First Rate mechs and a wide enough education to help with everything. Bolt would put her better technically than most masters in Third Rate nations breadth wise, and maybe even rivaling some Second Rate ones. She might have been a recently raised Senior, but she was still extremely valuable and rather wasted on Third Rate mechs, even expert ones.

"Look hun." Bubbles explained almost kindly as she saw the look on his face. "Think of it like the MTA getting some payback and don't over think it."

The young designer nodded slowly. "All right then. I suppose this simplifies my decision." He noted.

"Glad to help! Now we'll have to do most of this on a secured line and virtually. I am quite busy still." For a brief moment the designer looked very tired before she continued. "But I'll be there for the construction!"

Bolt nodded and then ended the call. There wasn't much more to say.

Instead he started up the designer and decided to think. What would suit Pup the best? Upgraded a Cerberus model was possible, but Bolt wasn't quite sold on that. Nor was Lilly really. She was the only one with real opinions on what would be best. Pup had absolutely none aside from it being a dog mech.

According to Lilly, Pup was very good at dodging, middling at commanding, and his weakest talents were in offense. His aim was poor for an expert, and he tended towards evasive maneuvers rather than aggressive offense. Cerberus had been a decent fit for him simply due to his best talent being working with sensors. The young man had been very good with that before, but as an expert he could pick out half the mechs around the mountain in a few seconds.

Bolt figured that sort of skillset would have been tricky for another designer. They probably would have had to just slap a few sensors on a standard expert mech and called it a day. Maybe some of them would have tried to emphasize the command aspect, but that would have been a waste. Pup was specifically good at small unit tactics. Command experts did battlefields as a whole.

He had a different idea.

First he needed to be sure it worked though. At least at a small scale. Bolt reached for his supplies and made a small horn. Nothing particularly big, nor fancy. Just a horn with a very minor bit of spirit in it. He then blew it. Once he was done he adjusted the spiritual construction and did it again. He was looking for one particular 'note' so to speak.

After a few tries he managed what he wanted. A bit of feeling at the edge of his senses after the horn was blown. Perfect for what he needed, and confirmation that he could do what he wanted to do.

With that information Bolt started to design with renewed enthusiasm. He began with the mech frame. This one was more on the lightweight side. He was angling towards the light side of medium. This was going to be a hunting hound. One that found the enemy and directed others towards it.

Cu Sith.

That was the name of the dog he was going for. A hunter with a supernatural bark. It was one of the more obscure Earth legends, though that didn't mean much. Earth legends had been done and redone many, many times. The MTA and CFA both wanted everyone to have similar cultural touch-stones, so they encouraged repeats and made the legends freely and easily available.

Midway through the preliminary sketch Bolt frowned at what he'd made. The initial thought of sleek and fast didn't feel fitting with what the pilot needed. Pup was noted to be good at evasive maneuvers, but he'd piloted Cerberus. That mech was not a speed focused mech. He switched things to a more heavy build and changed the frame alloy to something that could support weight. Nimble was going to goal mobility wise. Fast would be an afterthought.

Also, it was a tradition that Rats kept what they killed so he needed the room for the next part.

Bolt very, very carefully added a few stealth systems he'd stolen from the Hexxer mech to the design. Something for the paws, and some minor baffling. This was explicitly not going to be a stealth mech. It was going to be a mech that wasn't easy to spot. There was a significant difference. The mech would not escape detection. It would simply be harder to spot from a distance. This focus saved on the power budget somewhat but still made it rather tight. Especially when you added the increased sensory suite that Bolt wanted to include.

The designer paused and tidied up everything. He then added some of his spiritual notation. Cu Sith was basically a ghost hunting dog, crudely and simply put. Spirit construction worked best with all encompassing stories so to speak. So far everything felt right, but the weapons and resonant components still needed to be added. It was best to have Bubbles give her input before he went beyond the general outline.

Bolt spent the next day and change working on getting a list of the supplies needed and double checking his math before he got the updated blueprint. He was quite gratified to see the changes and also quite thankful as well. The woman had improved the power budget significantly, and then gone right up to the edge of it.

This was a good thing mind you. Some of the less useful stealth systems had been removed, but the sensory systems had been improved tremendously. More importantly, the weapons had been added, along with the resonant materials.

Cu Sith would have two. The first one was a sort of explosive 'bark'. More akin to a close-range shotgun, it was a combination of explosive ordinance and pellets. It would take awhile to reload, but it was mostly a weapon used when you had an opportunity than a primary weapon. One shot, then move away.

The primary weapon was not one that Bolt would have chosen. The tail deployed hovering explosive mines. Surprisingly simple and primitive, they were extreme area denial rather than a pure offensive weapon. Once detonated they'd cause a small electromagnetic field that could cause damage if entered. It made sense though. Pup was not an offensive expert. He would not go into battle and duel the enemy. He was meant to be a force multiplier. Identifying the weak points and then enabling his allies.

Most surprising was the resonant material. Bolt's spiritual notation had designed something around a hunting call of sorts. This was a hound that would call in the hunt. He'd initially designed it to simply broadcast a sound and have it backed by spiritual power. The resonant material Bubbles had proposed would reinforce that still further. The material was a relatively obscure one that enhanced sound. Combined with everything else it had potentially unpredictable effects. Bolt was fairly sure it would reinforce the power of that he was going for. He just didn't know how!

Unknowns were usually a problem in design. In this case they'd have to tolerate it. Everything they knew said it would work out in some fashion. It was just impossible to predict the exact end result. Bolt hummed to himself in thought before he took the time to get Pup's Crystal Heart. Then he tried to commune with the spirit and show them the blueprint in hopes that he'd get more information.

The back and forth that followed wasn't so much a matter of words so much as concepts. The spirit didn't quite know technology. It did know mechs. It did like the blueprint. It felt as if the blueprint would fit both it and the pilot. The spirit knew for a fact that it could control the result once placed into it and make it beneficial. The spirit could say no more than that.

A positive response like that wasn't exactly what he wanted, but it would have to be enough. Bolt tidied up everything and sent the preliminary blueprint to Lilly. She'd check with Pup and see what needed to be adjusted, if anything, and after that they'd need to do sims, then more passes depending on sim results to eliminate obvious flaws and problems. After that would be building.

Bolt did make a side note that the spirit was significantly stronger and different now. Expert ascensions gave them a lot of power apparently. Useful to note, but not surprising. It was another point of data to add to the list.

 

[lost star]

It was very silly, but this was the first time Bolt was making an actual expert mech from scratch using human tools. Well, almost from scratch. He'd specifically salvaged some parts from the mech that Pup had damaged to add to this. The Second Rate materials he'd selected were relatively small and inconsequential, but it was the principle of the matter! Pup's most notable 'kill' was going to be part of his new mech.

"Interesting order of operations here." Bubbles noted as she examined the plan for assembly and tapped at one part in particular.

"We've found earlier is better for the Heart system." Bolt explained. "You got no issues with the aides?" He gestured to the men arranged to the side.

"More hands is fine. I far more used to automation, but you've noted it helps your style significantly, and I can defer to your expertise." The Senior responded before pulling her hair back and tying it off. "Also, no offense, but I'm using personal time for this. I want it totally done fast so I can go get a bubble bath going."

That got a chuckle from Bolt. "Here that boys? We're gotta finish quick so our lovely lady here can get her relaxation!" He called out.

The other techs both laughed and cheered as they immediately began to move parts. These were the best techs they had in the mountain, so they barely needed directions from either Bolt or Bubbles. This was very useful because it freed them up to verify and identify any possible flaws and what changes had to be made in the final assembly. This had to be very, very carefully done. He and Bubbles had gone over the design several times, and there was precious little space for alteration at this stage. Cu Sith's design had extremely tight tolerances.

Yet this was required to get the best result. A mech was a complicated thing. Even First Rate mechs run through thousands of sims still had teething issues that would only come up in activation or construction. As weapons of war they could tolerate flaws, but that didn't mean you could ignore them. One benefit of the method and his people were using was that you could verify the potential pain points and address them before the mech was finished.

Shaving down a bit of metal here, adjusting the wire position there, even the order you assembled things could help make the best product possible. Bolt and his family knew mechs like the back of their hand. They knew how to account for all of that. Sometimes Bolt didn't even need to tell them something. They pointed it out themselves.

Midway through Bubbles actually took a step back and watched them all. "You know, we've spent a lot of money to cut out this part." She gestured to the assembly process.

"That's the flash-made First Rate stuff right?" Bolt asked. He'd seen it referenced a few times. First Rate mechs at high levels were materialized in a few seconds wholesale.

"Yep!" The girl bounced on her heels and watched as a few welds were started. "There's something more, like potent here. It feels more human if that makes sense."

The designer nodded in turn. "I know. Ain't perfect, but I don't think I'd trade this for the world. This is the best of my childhood believe it or not." He laughed at the thought.

"Music time!" Someone called out.

"Need something with a howl!"

"No, you need something with a good beat, a horn, and strings." Bubbles practically commanded as she got back into the work.

There was a lot of laughter. "You heard the lady!"

Somehow someone had found a good reimagined Celtic tune that they started to play. Bolt smiled as he continued the assembly. This, above all things was what he loved about his life. Designing a mech and seeing it built just felt right. It was a weapon of war. It killed. It destroyed. Yet, it was also more than that. It was the cumulation of a thousand things. It was life as well. It was creating something beautiful and terrible at the same time.

Humming along with the song Bolt started up the plating. This mech was going to be a bit different than other mechs in its plating. The outer part resembled fur. The spikey sections provided a baffling effect that would make certain detection methods less effective. It was still armor of course, and the tolerances were pretty good. It just wasn't the best design or material for durability. It was basically an upgraded version and refined version of the Drowned Man's armor he'd done so long ago.

Soon the mech was almost finished. Everyone could already see the potential. This would be a fearsome nightmare to its enemies. The mech was practically declaring it. The presence was potent and thick in an insubstantial way. Not enough to hinder, just enough to let it be known that this was a mech worthy of time and consideration.

"Just head left." Bolt mused.

"Got the throat armor prepared!"

This was going to be the hardest part. Heads were always bad in mechs, but this one was particularly difficult. Cu Sith's head was filled to the absolute limit. They'd had to make serious decisions as to what to put where, and there was a finger's worth of space in some areas to set things. It was going to be a very tricky assembly.

Bolt was actually rather impressed at the sacrifices Bubbles had decided to make here. Cu Sith was not meant for direct confrontation. He wanted time. The mine layer on the tail was meant to give most of that time. The shotgun in the mouth was an added insurance and an additional threat to cover when the mines weren't useful. It didn't need to reload quickly.

This was how trade offs worked. Room in the head was at a premium. Since the shotgun didn't need speed, they could shift the ammo storage down to the chest. The shell traveled up the throat and into the mouth. This gave space for the sensors which mostly ran from the ears and down to the shoulders. Only one didn't. The nose was the most expensive part of the sensors they'd installed, and it was one of the highest quality scenting modules on the market. It was a deliberate design choice to help fit the theme and design of the mech. Properly done this should reinforce the construction and make the mech more than the sum of it's parts.

Of course all of this with machinery with the additional sound system made the head take as much time as the rest of the mech had. It was delicate precision work that required attention. Both Bolt and Bubbles had to work on that exclusively while the others finished up the body.

If there was a flaw with Cu Sith it was going to be that it would only work where there was atmosphere. The sound attack Bolt had planned for the spirit part would theoretically work without actual sound, but the scenting definitely wouldn't work in a vacuum. That was perfectly acceptable for their purposes. It'd probably be considered a larger issue with Second Rate and above, but for this it wasn't even really a flaw. Bolt would just have to keep that in mind for later. (Thinking about it, this was probably why the Hexxer stealth mechs hadn't really accounted for scent.)

Once the head was wrapped up, all that was left was the teeth and some painting. For entertainments sake, each tech put in a tooth, before Bolt and Bubbles finished it off with a nice polish. Then they got out the sprayers and gave it a good solid coating of green colors. Since this was a brand new mech, they took their sweet time to get all the detailing look exactly right.

Bolt barely noticed the change when it happened. He was more focused on making sure the feet and toes were aligned right in a last minute check. It was the equivalent of a doggy manicure really. The physical shift didn't register to him due to his focus. He did notice the sudden surge of spiritual power though. It was like something aligned suddenly and snapped into place with a click. The mental kick was so big that it practically blinded him spiritually.

"Huh?" Bolt muttered and stepped back to look the mech before he tilted his head. "Huh?!"

Bubbles stared at it from her place on the other side and her lips twitched into a half smile. "Well darn." She muttered. "A masterwork."

"Oh, cool, another one!" One of the techs quipped and got a smack.

"Do we sell this one?" Someone else asked in mild confusion.

"No, no. This is Pup's mech." Bolt interrupted any possible arguments. "Though, er, as the co-maker you do have a say I think?" He almost asked Bubbles.

"It's best to keep it with him. Expert mechs are tuned to the expert in question." Bubbles responded back absentmindedly before groaning theatrically. "There goes my break! I have to report this and we need to do a lot of scans to see the changes." She gave Bolt a wide grin. "You really make things interesting for me you know?" The grin was more than a little maniac.

Bolt had a sneaking suspicion that interesting was not quite the word she wanted to use there.

 

[lost star]

Lilly didn't get the whole masterwork thing really. Cu Sith was a lovely mech to her eyes. That was it. Why the MTA went gaga over them was beyond her. She was more concerned about how it functioned, which meant that the testing was worth more than the suite of scans that Bolt was going over now. There would likely be complications later, but for now things were pretty standard.

"Venerable Lilly, I really don't think this is going to work." Pup's voice sounded nervous.

She rolled her eyes in response before slumping slightly in the cockpit seat. You'd think that ascending would have helped with the boy's confidence, but no. He was still pretty bad. If you didn't hit his triggers you wouldn't even notice he was an expert from the way he spoke. This was a bit unusual for experts, but ultimately just a mild annoyance and something that would hopefully fade with time. In the meantime she had to manage it properly.

"You need to learn your limits if you want to be the primary guard for our mountain." The woman said. "That means we're testing and then sparring."

"But, but." Pup whined before Lilly cut him off.

"Yes, you are weaker. You're young and weak for an expert. That's perfectly fine. Experts can grow, and we don't even need to throw you into battle all the time. You will just need to focus." The older expert emphasized the last word.

The mech in front of her shifted as his nerves started to transmit through the body language before Pup decided something internally. It was very visible when he did. The mech shifted its paws and lowered its head as if bracing itself for battle.

Lilly smiled and pulled on Morning Star. She then shifted her wings and readied herself. "First up, weapons check!" She lowered her wings.

With a crack Cu Sith 'barked.' The mouth erupted in fire and Lilly registered hits along her wings and all around her area. Very minor damage to the wings. Already being repaired. Not bad as a base deterrent considering the sheer area of the attack. If he actually exerted some effort into the attack it'd probably have actually damaged the wings enough to force her to withdraw them. It was more a cannon than a shotgun blast.

"Put some willpower into it next time." Lilly advised. "But good. Tail weapon?"

The dog-mech flicked its tail and a sphere floated into the air between them. Lilly flicked a dagger at it after a second and was gratified to see it explode violently before leaving a cloud of fire and electricity that did not look pleasant. It wasn't a very useful offensive weapon, but she wouldn't want to follow a mech that could do that, which was the point. Pup was going to be a priority target by everyone based off his skillset. Deterring pursuit would be the largest point.

"Last bit. Howl." Lilly ordered.

Cu Sith raised its head and then stilled as its pilot hesitated. "Uh, sorry, trying to figure it out." The expert apologized sheepishly. "Not like the other weapons."

"Resonant stuff takes a push." Lilly advised.

"Got it I think." Pup said after a few seconds. "Thing is I needed to think of you as an enemy, and that's a bit hard to do."

"I'm flattered, but if it hinders the tests we can arrange something else. Let me know and we can do make some calls." The woman responded with a hint of a laugh.

Pup replied by re-setting his mech's feet and raising its muzzle up further. The howl that came from it next started haunting and grew terrifying as it continued. She was being hunted. She had been marked. THEY were aware of her! That was the feeling. Lilly pushed it off easily, and was fairly sure that even normal people would just feel a bit scared, but it was interesting to actually get that sort of feeling imposed on you. Even a little bit of forced emotion could have devastating effects.

"Venerable Lilly, I think your husband did something special again. That howl let us feel your location and what I think is your weak points." One of the men stationed nearby transmitted almost immediately.

Lilly felt herself taken aback by the statement. "Really now?" She asked. "Huh. We need a few target dummies out here asap then. This is more than expected."

A few minutes later a series of mech torsos on poles were brought out. They were simplistic things useful for target practice and verifying the damage some weapons could do. Lilly had two marked red and one marked green.

"Ok, call me your ally, and say the red are enemy." Lilly told her protégé.

Pup gave a nod of his mechs head, and then howled again. This time the howl wasn't scary at all. Lilly blinked and then closed her eyes as she realized something. She could literally see the dummies through her eyelids now. She just knew where the weak points without any sort of verbal statement at all! The information lasted about a minute before going away.

"You know, I was expecting something special and yet I'm still shocked." The woman said before speaking to the guards nearby. "Did you all feel that?"

"We did."

"It that good?" Pup asked in turn.

"Pup, that goes beyond good and into game changing. Let's test it before we make real statements though." Lilly said before starting to order a set of tests.

The range was, well as far as the howl could go, which didn't lend itself to quick measurements unfortunately. The only requirement seemed to be that the sound waves touch the target and that Pup knew there was an enemy. Something about it required a bit of awareness on his part. When Lilly had said there were two targets, but put three up, one of them hadn't been marked. That was less of a hinderance than one would think. Cu Sith's sensory abilities were second to none. All Pup needed was a scent, a blip on the radar, even just intuition, and then the howl would alert all allies that heard it. It was an ability that was literally game changing in certain circumstances. It alone had the potential to make Pup more dangerous than her.

Unfortunately the rest of the news was less promising. Sparring was downright discouraging. Pup had ascended young and weak. This was not a problem in itself. Experts could grow in time assuming they practiced and refined their willpower. It just made things difficult because the best way to hone an expert was to have them fight challenging foes. If Pup was on the weakside he'd be in a deadly situation against anything worthy of his time.

On the plus side, the designers had nailed Pup's natural desires with the design. Lilly would have said it was perfect if it didn't reinforce a few bad habits. Like the screaming.

"Ahhh!" Pup screamed as he leaped away from her.

She should have brought Dowry for this part. That one would have loved doing this. Morning Star found it sincerely annoying.

"Pup, control yourself!" Lilly demanded as she had to pause to avoid the mine left in her path. "Good placement, but your movement is too inefficient!"

"Say that again when you're on the other end! It's terrifying!!!" Pup responded and ducked a knife by almost accident before lobbing another glowing mine into the air.

Lilly growled and then slapped a wing down by instinct as she noticed something. Cu Sith pivoted on one paw and barked. The shotgun pellets slammed into her wing with all the force of an expert pilot's power before the dog shifted again and ran like she was going to discipline it with a stick. The ever-present mist obscured his form and Lilly stalled.

"Huh, that stealth is more powerful than I thought." The woman observed.

"It's mostly non-vision stuff so I figured the mist might help." Pup responded carefully as he shifted at the edges, barely visible. "Umm, should I come back?"

"I could probably chase you, but with the stealth, the vision, and the mines I literally cannot catch you in this mech." The expert said bluntly. "Which is good, but also kinda bad. The only way to hone yourself safely is like this, and your mech is not suited for it."

The answer seemed to stun the other expert. "Sims don't work?" He asked.

"Normal sims don't. Our sims? Once we've done some more fighting maybe. If they do, you will only tell me ok?" Lilly ordered. "In the meantime, come back and stay in vision range. You will need to practice fighting in limited areas anyway, and unless you want me to get Dowry this will have to do."

The woman had to turn down Pups volume for the rest of the match. The boy was getting better, but he seemed to think she was some sort of monster! She was, but that sort of thing could hurt a girl's feelings!

 

[lost star]

"This was an extremely bad idea." Wu said to her companion.

"You were the one that pointed out that we would be monitored any other way." Dai shot back quietly.

Wu made a frustrated sound. "Yes, that doesn't make it any better!"

Dai chuckled and carefully dragged the very large improvised cannon up behind him. "Just keep your mouth open so your ears don't burst." He advised before slowly edging out of the maintenance tunnel and aiming the weapon down the hallway.

The woman behind him gave a small whimper and edged back. Dai held the trigger and waited a few seconds. The sound of boots made him grin and then count. One, two, three. A man came into view and Dai pulled the trigger at the same time.

A loud explosion blew through the corridor. Dai's ears popped. The man, and everything behind him was shredded. Dai stared a moment at the gore he'd created with a mild amount of shock and then tried to evaluate what he'd done.

"Hmm. Needs a bit less penetration." He concluded out loud before his ears stopped rigging.

"I cannot hear you but I have to assume you said something stupid." Wu replied.

"That's one hijacker group down!" Dai called back.

"Good, but you do remember we need a ship left at the end right?!" The woman shot back.

The man chuckled nervously at the statement. They didn't need everything intact! Just most of it. He pulled himself out of the tunnel had hefted his cannon up.

It had started pretty simply. Dai and Wu had decided they wanted to travel some and possibly visit Bolt, if the circumstances permitted it. It had been half desire for adventure and half because things had been getting very tense on their planet. Taking some time to visit other areas for ideas or contests had seemed like a good idea at the time. The sandmen hadn't actually reached the nation yet after all, and they only lived once. Travel would likely be locked down soon as well. If they wanted to do anything more than cower at home now was the time. They'd even gotten a really good deal on a trip!

Unfortunately the constant tensions had made travel even more dangerous than usual. Dai and Wu were nobodies in the grand scheme of things. They were just educated mech designers. They had equivalents of college degrees and little else. There was usually very little reason to target them. Them traveling got noted on a list a million people long. Misfortune could hit anyway though. In this matter, the entire ship was the target and they were just bonuses. The hijackers had taken one look at them and added them to the list of 'good merchandise.'

Hence them running through the ship's maintenance areas in with a frantic and slightly insane plan to keep themselves free.

"You know I will have to thank Bolt very much for the lessons on self reliance." Dai said as he aimed his cannon this way and that with maniac energy.

Wu made a very unladylike sound. "You just wanted an excuse to have gun materials on hand." She pointed out.

"Like you're any better." Dai shot back as they moved down the corridor.

"Mine's actually useful." The woman noted as she pulled out a small vial and prepared for the next step.

Further banter was stopped as they found the terminal they were looking for. This was not the main command area. That was halfway down the ship. This was a side computer linked to the FTL drive and something far less guarded. Wu poured the contents in the vial onto the computer and brought up her comm as the nanomachines slithered into it.

"Breaking in now." Wu said quietly as she typed.

"Time?" Dai asked back.

"We timed it right. A minute until FTL travel. I can adjust the location right now." Wu initiated a few pre-made commands. "They won't know what's wrong until we arrive and by that point it will be too late. A few patrols are heading this way now, but they'll be a minute."

"Great." The weapon specialist aimed his large weapon down the hallway and braced himself. "I got ten shots left. We can make our grand stand here!"

Wu grabbed at an ear. "Or we go back to the crawlways and avoid them entirely!" She snapped back.

"But that's boring." The man muttered before deciding that boring was safer at least and involved less gore. He was handling it fine at the moment, but he'd probably crash soon.

Some crawling and careful sneaking had them back inside the small room that counted as 'private quarters' for people on a passenger ship like this. It was a small place with two beds and a very flimsy door. So far as fortifications went, it was paltry. Also, for rather specific reasons the door for Wu and Dai's quarters wasn't working, so it was really bad.

"You know, on second thought, this probably won't work either." Dai mused as he looked at the broken doors.

Wu nodded slowly and surveyed the area. "Blast doors?" She pointed out a few places.

"Those are ship standard and deactivated." He noted before shrugging. "I don't think that matters much though."

Dai couldn't connect to the net due to local jamming, but he did know that all ships had manual controls for that particular part. Critical sections like that had to have some way of functioning when power went out. They were also very deliberately easy to find.

Some brief searching located a panel they could open. A lever was pulled and the heavy metal blast doors slammed shut. To be extra thorough the two of them activated the doors up and down the hallway. They then jammed them shut with a bit of creative welding using some tools they'd 'found'. It wouldn't stop anyone with the proper tools, but it would most certainly delay them all. With the FTL happening shortly, that'd be enough.

FTL transitions took time to cool down after being used. A large passenger liner like the one the two were in had a very lengthy one. Once the transition happened, the ship would be stuck in place until it cooled down. The hijackers would typically use that time to empty the ship of real valuables.

Wu's sabotage changed that equation. It meant that once the hijackers knew they were in the wrong area they couldn't leave with the liner. The best they could do was leave with the tiny parasite ship they'd used to infiltrate with. Which was possible to do, but also very, very dangerous in a hostile area like the one Wu had changed their destination to.

What happened next was fairly obvious. It was not immediately apparent that they'd reached a different area to them. It likely wasn't apparent to the hijackers either. It did become obvious to them when the local forces noticed something was up and took steps to do something about it.

The lights going out was the first sign. Then some shaking, and then the emergency alerts starting up. Both Wu and Dai decided this was a good time to move back to their rooms.

Elsewhere the ship was boarded by armed men trained to deal with scenarios like this. The hijackers attempted to resist with all the desperation of criminals with nothing left to lose. Unfortunately for them, they were both outnumbered and outgunned. Their only possible escape was basically through the ship they'd initially used to hijack the cruiseliner.

Wu and Dai didn't know the exact details. They were not informed. It didn't matter that much.

What did matter was that the liner wasn't operational and would take time to repair. They were going to get a return trip free of charge if they wanted, but the two had decided that another trip would be an unneeded risk.

Bolt's home was in the same system after all. He'd offered them space, and the two designers were quite willing to accept that.

 

[lost star]

Bolt met his two friends at the entrance of his mountain. Neither were in good shape. They were dirty, bleary eyed, and looked a bit tired. Which wasn't actually surprising.

"Ya'll are lucky. Had ya gotten here a few months ago you would have been shit outta luck." Bolt informed them as they left the shuttle.

Dai gave a nervous laugh. "We really didn't expect this to happen." He explained while scratching at his head.

"It's fine. We have some quarters you can stay in. You planning on heading back soon?" Bolt asked.

The two designers exchanged looks before Wu shook her head. "If it's all the same to you, could we stay here for awhile? With how our trip out here went neither of us have the desire to immediately try again."

With a frown Bolt looked over the two again. "Ya sure? Don't you got things back home?"

"My job is gone. Wu's is a bit iffy." Dai replied back immediately. "With the war we'd likely be conscripted anyway. Least that's what Ando said when we last exchanged messages."

The young designer nodded slowly. "Well I don't mind. If ya like, I think we can even hire you. Lord knows I have a list of things I could use help on."

"That'd be appreciated." Dai said with a yawn.

"Go rest." Bolt pulled out his comm and sent them a small directional map. "Your quarters are that way. The map should show you places of note. Take a few days and then find me when you're ready."

Both designers nodded before Wu had to ask. "Did you really name the place Olympus?"

"What?" Bolt asked in complete confusion.

"That's what the others are calling it." The woman clarified.

"The grand mountain of the gods!" Dai declared with spread arms.

"Hah!" Bolt barked out before shaking his head. "We just called it the mountain, but I'm sure that's going to stick now. Lord above." He shook his head again. "Well whatever. Ya'll are dead on your feet, shoo." He made a shooing motion.

While the two rested Bolt went back to his workstation and began to bring up things that needed to be done. Then he paused. Wasn't there some sort of etiquette involved here? He was sure some things had to be kept secret.

Bolt ended up having to send a message to Bubbles requesting some information on it. She then forwarded him a set of 'For Dummies' books. Which probably would have been insulting to another person but actually ended up making him feel rather amused instead. It was actually hilarious in his opinion. Sometimes you needed to just blatantly state certain things so it wasn't ambiguous at all and the fact that this sort of literature existed said some rather entertaining things.

It took about a week before Dai and Wu sought him out. Bolt didn't begrudge them that time. Despite the blasé matter they'd treated the series of events it had likely not been pleasant. No one liked being reminded that they were vulnerable.

He met them in the large designing room. The one far too large for even three people. Bolt really didn't much care for it still, but it was probably going to see some use soon.

"So, at the moment I do got a lotta work fer you both, if you're interested. Got a hiring contract already there." Bolt began and brought up a few contracts on their stations. "Pay's kinda low I think? I don't know your local rates."

"Looks like three quarters what I had." Dai replied seriously once he saw the number.

"About half mine." Wu confirmed.

"Rich girl." The other designer immediately shot back and got a flick in return.

Bolt nodded. "So, the economy here is kinda shit still. We got three separate currencies and interchanging them gets expensive fast. I can pay you in other currencies, or ya can just take perks I already put in the contract."

The other man switched to that area. "Those are pretty good." He noted. "But I think I can speak for my lovely and picky companion here we'd be more concerned about the work, and if we can make mechs."

Bolt had prepared for that part, and he didn't even need the For Dummies books for it! "You can make any you want with our parts. Then you have blanket permission to assemble them in off time. I will request that you use at least half your day to handle something I don't wanna call busy work but's close to it? I'm sorry I don't know what ya call it in designer lingo." He tapped a few buttons to bring up what he needed done.

"Ah, yeah, that's all pretty standard work we're expected to do at this level. We call it calculation work." Dai said as he scrolled through the tasks. "Wow, this has been piling up."

"It's been me." Bolt gestured to the area. "Me alone." He repeated with a trace of irritation at the sheer amount of things needed.

The man whistled at that. "Wow, and all of that and you're still making mechs."

"We should do Last Prayer first." Wu said after a moment of looking at the work.

Bolt winced. "I really should have gotten to that one sooner." He observed with a heavy sigh. "It works, but there's a thousand small things that could be done to polish it."

"Looking at the list, are you trying to kill yourself?" Dai shook his head. "Even if you've been letting the small stuff go, this is still a hellish amount of work that needs to be done for a company to thrive. Most small companies with a single in house designer have only one or two mech-lines that they focus on."

"Been hoisting off what I can to the techs and probably letting more things slide than I should. Wouldn't doubt it's hurting mech sales, but I'm running solo until someone gets trained up. We're just about ready to start educating a few actual designers in house, but that's another complication." Bolt gestured to the area. "We'd have ta do most of it virtually, and that's not really good for... Well normal people." He hated to phrase it like that. It felt offensive.

"Makes sense." Dai nodded. "Want us to teach them some? We can't give them complete educations, but we can certainly smooth over issues." He offered.

"You'd be willing?" Bolt asked with mild surprise.

"We both did some semesters as teachers aids. It was worth grades or money." Wu commented and continued to scroll. "You censored some works?"

"Had to look up what was appropriate. As a Journeyman I'm apparently supposed to keep some stuff restricted to those below my rank." Bolt clarified that quickly and happily.

"Ah, you know most places don't explain or even show works like that." Dai switched to the views. "I've always wondered why. I can't imagine you care much about classification."

"It's fer you actually. If and when you advance you'll understand." The designer explained. "So, if you want, you can teach some. We got a little over fifty people interested in becoming designers. The kids are gonna spend about two years in virtual classes and then we'll switch them to practical stuff by assembling mechs and such before more classes." Bolt paused before continuing. "I think I might have them do some junkyard salvage too, but I'd have ta prep those lesson plans more."

"Not exactly traditional, but we can aid with most of that." Dai glanced at Wu and got a nod. "Now, onto the big thing. We can make mechs, but can we sell them too?"

"I'll need to give them a once over before you do, but I ain't got an issue with that." Bolt said with a shrug. "You'll get a share in the profit and all that as well."

Dai glanced at the contract again. "You do know that's extremely generous right? As in you could get people from several planets away generous? You have to have mechs to advance to Journeyman and most companies are very strict about that."

"I wouldn't be able to trust them at all, and there'd be no guarantee we could work well together. You both have worked out pretty good." The journeyman chuckled. "Also, you'll tolerate helping me with a few experiments too. I wanna see how well we can teach you some tricks I've been developing. If we're lucky, you can apply them to the specialties your developing."

"That would be gratifying. I felt a bit stifled by the limitations I had." Wu stated.

"That's her speak for saying she was bored out of her mind doing the same calculation every day." Dai stage whispered.

Wu snorted and clarified in a prim tone. "It was different calculations with the same results I'll have you know. It was also important. Just tedious." She sighed. "Very tedious. Adapting nanomachines for lower tech levels required thousands of checks for materials and while it could be done by computer it needed a monitor."

"Ouch." Bolt said with a wince. "Did you make progress at least?"

"Some. The investment capital to try was drying up before I left, and the company was eyeing bankruptcy procedures. The Sand War is killing economy and research projects." The woman informed him. "Were you offering this job at home I'd say it'd be a perfect time for me to leave."

"If it's not worthwhile against the Sandmen, they don't want it. Which makes sense, but also sort of ruins everything else." Dai explained.

Like he said, it made sense. Bolt couldn't imagine people were happy about it. He did like the fact he had extra help now though. He had been letting too many small things slide. It would have started to hurt eventually.

 

[lost star]

The extra help brought by two educated designers was more than welcome. It was, to put it simply, needed. Bolt hadn't even noticed how much peripheral work was piling up before they'd come along. A lot of it had been easy to ignore, which wasn't exactly conductive to making a productive company. Them joining had forced everyone to look at the business side and re-organize things in a more formal manner.

He and the company even had a secretary now too. Multiple ones actually. It was a bit of organization that really should have been addressed before. It had been more ad-hoc before, but his father had understandably decided that only worked when you were small. They were going to grow soon. Business was going to start picking up even more now that another masterwork had been made. Making more than one as a designer was a sign of a bright and power future. Everyone would want a mech design from him now, and his current designs would be looked at far more closely. (His friends had stared at him when that bit of news had come out and Dai had actually gotten a foam gun to fire at him. To be fair, Bolt had always considered his first one a fluke and an accident.)

Thinking about that, it meant that he should schedule some time later to revise his previous mech lines. It would have to be after he examined the changes in Pups mech, but it would be done. Right now Bolt was absolutely fascinated with the spiritual changes to the mech and the Heart System. Not so much the finished product, but how it changed. The mastery change had altered things to a more 'perfect' form, and it showed him quite a bit. There was something there that would be very useful. He just needed to figure it out.

Of course even with all of that organization, some things got routed to him immediately. Like calls from Masters. A call from one of them indicated urgency that he could not ignore. Masters didn't just call for casual reasons. Even the ones who were considered slumming it like Master Jeanne.

"Forgive the abrupt contact and even more brisk conversation, but we both lack the time for serious formalities." The woman began without any preamble the second Bolt picked up. "First, I must offer my congratulations. Having two masterworks under your belt means you are very likely to advance smoothly and without issues. You have a very bright future ahead of you."

Bolt chuckled a tad nervously. "I'ma thinking you have bad news if you're beginning with that."

"You would be right. There's a persistent rumor that your mountain contains a treasure of some sort. The details vary. The central point stays the same. Olympus has enough treasure to set you up for life." The master said with a trace of humor that turned grim. "With the Sandman starting to press us and the other kingdoms there are going to be a lot of very desperate people fleeing. Your little planet is unaligned, is on what could be a major traffic area, and is now something that a lot of people would risk something for."

This wasn't news to Bolt. He had eyes and could see the increased traffic. He believed there was more there. Considering the warning and what would get a master's notice. "You're thinking armies rather than just small pirate groups?"

Jeanne's next words did not inspire hope that this would be easy. "Very likely. My people are trying to prevent the diaspora, but the number of fleeing people is in the billions already. Half our problems are from cowards running before they can be drafted. My reputation and personal attentions will likely keep the nation intact, but that will not stop the more desperate from fleeing anyway. They'll be the least moral of all our people, and the most desperate for resources. At the bare minimum expect upwards of several thousand mechs or more mechs attacking you."

"That many?!" Bolt couldn't help but raise his voice at that.

"Yes." The woman's reply was merciless. "They won't be modern for the most part. These will be the desperate chaff that have taken what they can and are attempting to achieve one last payday before they flee for greener pastures. It's understandable that you'd be dismayed by it, but warning you is not the only reason I'm calling." She paused for a moment before she continued. "You should be receiving an information package shortly. Know your decisions to help have not been ignored."

The young man brought up the information on his comm once it came in and then blinked. "Personell records?"

Jeanne's voice softened as she explained. "They lack mechs, but that's an entire army willing to come to your aid. They're refugees that used your Last Prayers and were grateful that someone reached out. Support personnel, mech pilots, and most importantly a general and his support staff."

Bolt flipped through that profiles quickly. There. A military general named Kriff. He was a man in his fifties, with very minor life extending treatments. (The stuff good Third Raters could afford.) He had a storied history of mech battles, including a last stand and evacuation in the face of the Sandmen. It was something that filled up a hole that they had never even thought of. There were a handful of generals in a nation worth anything and this was one of the better ones based on the record.

"Shit." Bolt barely registered his language. "We can't afford to refuse." He said while continuing to look through the profiles. "Trained doctors too?"

"An army that lost is still an army. They're on their way already. Due to internal and external reasons, they're better suited settling outside our nation and away from the sandmen. You were on a short list of viable settlement areas. With their aid and experience you should be able to weather the cowards and thieves until the Sand War is done." Jeanne's voice was a quiet banked fire as she spoke. "Good luck." The call clicked off.

Bolt stared mindlessly at the profiles in dread for a moment before he shook himself. This was another crisis, but not something insurmountable. He was sure of it. He had warning and assistance this time even. Really just knowing that helped organize his thoughts and focus him.

Messages were sent out immediately while Bolt pondered what to do next. Based on what Jeanne had said and his own guesses, this wasn't going to be a deliberate siege so much as a series of attacks by desperate people. Some of them would likely back away when they found the target was so well defended. Others would just ram themselves in out of one insane emotion or another. They weren't going to blockade the mountain so much as try to do a smash and grab.

They'd prepare the same way anyway. They needed to stockpile resources and prepare for a siege. They also needed to prepare for some likely traumatized settlers. Both of those would take money and time.

Bolt would leave that to his father and mother. They had a better head for the logistical side of their world. He was best focused on a singular thing. The thing he was good at.

He was a mech designer, and war was coming. This wasn't the time to make new blueprints. It was time to repair, remodel, and revamp all his current mechs. They'd have the most pristine and powerful mechs he could build shortly. The new army would find new mechs ready and waiting for them the second they landed. That was the best use of his time. People wanted to prey on his family? He'd show them all why that was a bad idea.

Bolt raced back to his personal designer station and sent a quick message to Dai and Wu. The two of them would have to hold down standard tasks while he did a full revision of the mechs they had active at the moment. Then he went down the list and began a brief overview. What could he do quick, and what needed serious attention?

Zombie needed armor updates. That was quick and easy. The spiritual construction was focused more on amusement than actual functional support. It had also sort of 'settled' into the design, making it hard to remove. Bolt didn't bother trying to overthink a solution. He instead made a note to focus it. The amusement could be shifted into amused endurance. The mech would always look a bit ready to die, but would never actually die. A deceptive front-line mech that would endure bullets and laugh.

Ghoul was fairly good. Some touch ups on the spiritual aspects and the line was actually pretty solid still. Lilly's spiritual power had almost 'stained' the line and aligned it with it's purpose already. Bolt just had to copy and formalize it across the line.

The Drowned Man fulfilled its function as a cross between swordsman and assassin. Bolt was absolutely positive he could easily have the spiritual power reinforce the mist, thereby making it far more dangerous to enemies. It'd require some minor touchups otherwise. He could actually pass most of that off to his subordinates. (Which was silly to think of.) The armor would need a modernization pass with his new understanding of stealth systems, but that was maybe an hour's worth of work. The rest was just quick checks.

Undertaker needed the most work. The mech had a niche that worked well in small units, but not in large battles. It was a generalist. It failed against specialists. It was also an expensive heavy with a lack of serious offensive power. Bolt made a note to come back to the design later. It would require a dedicated brainstorming session to decide if he even wanted to continue the line.

Bloody Berserker was actually fine for its niche and needed minor touchups at best. The spiritual part could be increased just a bit. Make it more like a Berserker in combat, though not to the extent that it was a problem.

The Shining Shrine Maiden and Wounded Angel were also likewise fine. They were more recently made and updated, and already had decent spiritual construction. Bolt put them in the finished pile and made a note to have them made first while he went over the other designs.

Reviewing all of this had actually given him the final bit of inspiration he needed. He could do 'software updates!' If he was very, very careful with the programming, he could roll out changes to the spiritual systems of all the mechs with just the equivalent of a software download. It would be very delicate, and the mechs could theoretically reject the changes, but it would let him do his revisions to already made mechs. That was going to be very useful for the future.

This was rather important now too, because updating all the mechs they had would take time he didn't really have.

 

[lost star]

Tactics win engagements, but logistics win wars. The old quote was still relevant to this day. The Wrench Rats knew logistics for their planet. They'd lived and breathed it. Salvage was how they lived, and you had to know supplies to succeed at that. They were in the unique position where if they won they could be in a better position than when they started just because they knew how to recover their mechs better than others.

You could not ignore the tactical side though. The Rats had been notably deficient there. Their small unit tactics were passable. As Pup grew they'd likely even become good to great when he was present. They had absolutely no large unit tactics. Their grasp of big strategic picture was amateur at best. This didn't mean they couldn't win. It was just decidedly suboptimal, especially when they were going to need someone able to evaluate the big picture very soon.

So, Kriff was a godsend.

Of course, that didn't mean he could come in and perform miracles immediately. There had to be extensive briefings done for everyone. Thankfully, some of it could be done through virtual meetings while he was in transit. They'd have to restrict a few things for security reasons, but the broad overview was perfectly fine.

This assumed that the man could handle it. He had just come from a catastrophic loss. The Rats were fairly sure that was half of why he was coming their way. No one would really want a general that had lost his planet and nation, even if there had been absolutely nothing he could do about it. They expected a fair bit of trauma. They saw only some of it when the video conference started.

Kriff looked haggard on camera. His hair was messy, his uniform wrinkled and torn in some parts, and he looked like he'd barely slept. No one commented on it. He was a refugee, and was crammed into a ship with a thousand other people. The only reason he was likely still functional was the fact he'd successfully organized an evacuation of 'his' people. He'd saved .1 percent of a planet with his personal resources and actions. It was a small number compared to the total people lost. It was a massive number for just one person to save. And it was something that could still break him if he faltered. Yet the Rats couldn't be picky.

It helped that right now they were just doing numbers. Those were soothing in a clinical sort of way. Arranging supplies and mech assignments was clinical and detached in a way that let one compartmentalize things.

"Wounded Angels will be the priority." Bolt's father noted after a few minutes of number crunching. "They're a bit pricy, but the performance has been impressive enough that it's worth footing the bill."

"I agree. Simple rotating shield tactics are easy to train in and the performance is good enough that they can be one of the standard mechs." Kriff responded in a low growl that seemed to be his default. "The shield's fucking useless against Sandmen, but against anything else it'll double operation time. What's the note on revisions for the others?"

"I'm doing a general overhaul on the lineup to update them with specific tricks. The berserkers for instance will give a small mental bolstering effect to the pilot when combat starts." Bolt explained. "Every mech line should have a bit of a boost to their main function except for the Undertaker. That one is still being addressed. When you're here we'll have solid numbers for ya."

Bolt's smaller revisions had been passed out and tested. They'd bolstered the mechs by an observable amount, which was both gratifying and entertaining in equal measure. He was quite proud of that particular function, and thought it boded very well for his designs after this.

"I have a few men who'd fit the berserkers. They have a lot of repressed anger to get through, and that will be perfect for them. My skirmishers are going to love Ghoul." The general's smile was grim, but there. "Shame its the most expensive of the lot, but it isn't like skirmisher pilots grow on trees anyway."

"We can handle it. Any other bits?" Bolt's father glanced at his wife and the woman gave a small nod. "Still got a budget left."

"Much as I love to break a bank, we'd be best keeping some reserve. The Zombies are unconventional, but acceptable to use as filler. Also, the numbers you have assume our pilots are functional and useful. Some got shitty hands and are barely getting out of bed." Kriff rubbed at his forehead at the words, and for a moment he looked as if he was more dead than alive. "Not that this is news to you. We might want more Undertakers depending on how the revisions go. If you can up the speed it'll be a good raid coordinator."

They spoke a bit more on mech numbers, but the cold analysis could only be done so long before they moved onto other things. Food supplies were more than fine. The Rats dedicated to growing had no issues scaling up, and had been habitually storing rations when they could. Entertainment was going to be an issue that they'd have to address somehow.

"On the subject of bed, quarters have been assigned and a list sent to you. Be sure the families are together, and double check everything. We don't expect much until they settle." Bolt's mom grimaced as she continued with clear reluctance. "Mind you, we can't have them just laying in bed for weeks on end. Ain't got that sorta generosity."

The general nodded in agreement. "Keeping people moving is going to be a priority when we land. But we can go over that once everyone settles in. Things will likely change once it sets in that we're in a new hope. I'd appreciate if you have your experts there to welcome people."

"They'll be there." Bolt confirmed.

Lilly had confirmed it. Pup would need coaching. It was something the two would need to do. Everyone respected experts, and just having them there would both provide a welcome and assurance.

"They're also fine with taking orders from me?" The old man asked as a follow up.

"Lilly knows she's horrible at large scale stuff. Pup's someone who will take orders from anyone he deems superior." Bolt explained with a small shrug. "Really, just point Lilly at a direction and don't try to micromanage her and we won't have issues. Everyone else is just glad to have someone who knows what he's doing."

"You say that knowing what I left behind." That dead look was back before the man shook it off and continued. "How's morale on your end? You know ours."

"Grimly confident." Bolt's father said with a small chuckle. "Ain't the first scrap. Won't be the last. This is just another song and dance we've done before. We'll come out stronger."

"I won't say the confidence is misplaced here. The numbers paint a grim picture but I believe it's possible to handle. It's a tide of rabble, not a dedicated campaign. Our largest problem is going to going to be some asshat trying to organize them all rather than anything else. Lilly is uniquely suitable for deterring that if need be." Kriff observed before sighing. "My big concern is that this is going to be potentially years worth of battle. That can cause issues with morale and we're already low."

"Ain't new here. We're in a better place thanks ta the mountain really. We'll have ta see about organizing something to up spirits, but it's better than a hole in the ground that everyone else is gonna be in."

Bolt nodded along with his father's words.

"Not sure if that's admirable or sad." Kriff sighed again and rubbed at his forehead. "Regardless, we'll have to go over numbers again while in transit after I review them all here. Expect us there within the month."

Bolt's father nodded. "We'll have a welcome mat."

The general didn't look happy about the words, but he didn't look unhappy either. Less burdened was probably the best term for it. Which was probably as good as it was going to get. This was a horrible situation all around and Bolt felt a bit bad that he was grateful for the aid.

He'd have to work extra hard to make sure that the newcomers were both welcome and supported properly. Back to designing.

 

[lost star]

"We need to revise the Undertaker." Bolt told his friends as they took a seat in the large designer room. "It needs to be either more cost efficient, add more value, or faster to be useful."

Dai gave a small shrug. "That is going to be a task. Should we not just make a new mech?"

Bolt grimaced and winced as he explained. "If we had time, and money fer new licenses. Buying out all the supplies we can make funds a bit 'o an issue. We got enough wiggle for one or two small things. We have a good amount of them now, and while they were useful we need more from em now."

"That's despite the sales of the Last Prayer I assume." Wu commented. "I understand the and commend the sentiment behind the pricing, but even a small profit on it would have eliminated the funding issue we're seeing. You're still getting sales right?"

"'Bout half the border nations have gotten a license, and it's accelerating. I don't regret it, but none of my other designs are even close to its sales." Bolt confirmed and sighed. "Sorry, you're all stuck here and I've apparently made a hash of things."

"If you apologize again I'll bring out the gun again." Dai declared with a serious look. "We're here, and we would have been in worse positions back at home." Wu nodded in support.

"All right then." Bolt said and brought up the Undertaker. "You know, as silly as it is, I like the design as a whole. It just doesn't scale upwards."

"Design wise, it's a bit niche but certainly not useless. You want one if you want something that does everything in a singular heavy armored package. Could we cut out some from it?" Dai waved at the design.

"The armor is the easiest. That also wouldn't shave down the cost that much. The big cost is the fact I fused a communications suite into an ECM warfare package. The cost for the part alone is pretty hefty, and then you add the generator needed to support it all and the cost balloons. It's cheap for a heavy, but still a heavy." Bolt sighed as he stared at the blueprint.

"I have to ask, what can you do with your specialty? Can you do something like with Cu Sith's howl?" Dai inquired. "If we remove one of them in favor of that it'd cut, what a quarter of the cost?"

"Close to it." Bolt didn't care to do the exact numbers. "Also, that howl is only sort of peripherally related to my specialty. You could technically do it. It's a..." The young man paused and growled. "Ok, what I did there is a a semi-restricted thing to the MTA. If I tell you, remember not to tell others, and it's all called psionics ok? This is related to the tricks I mentioned when you first arrived."

The two junior designers exchanged glances and then stared at him, clearly waiting for more information.

"So, Mech designers use a trace amount of psionics to do some of the things they do. Remember how we discussed how Vermillion felt? That's related. I've refined it since then. Theoretically any designer could do it if they have training and knowledge." Bolt explained. "I can send you a very short briefing on it later, but short answer is that it revolves around perception and the human factor. Cu Sith's howl works because I tied the mech to the legend and to the pilot and we reinforced it all together."

"Not sure I get it." Dai muttered and Wu nodded in agreement.

"It takes time to get a feel of it, and I'm still trying to write an instruction manual on it. It's extremely difficult to properly instruct someone else in it. There's too much personal perception involved." The Journeyman replied with some frustration.

His sister was slowly picking up some of it, but he wasn't kidding about how difficult it was. Gadget was having trouble and she was just as smart as he was. If she was having trouble, how would he explain it to others? Half of what Bolt did was intuition and the other half was just raw blind calculation with assumed numbers. It worked sometimes because he forced it to work with pure will and guesswork.

"Let me put it this way. Undertaker is something that turns the battlefield into a graveyard." Bolt reasoned out loud. "If I were to reinforce something it would have to be that. He'd have to dig graves, or enhance others."

"Enhance how?" Wu asked curiously. "Depending on the enhancement, that would add value would it not? "

Bolt nodded slowly. "Perhaps something to make the thing lighter? I'd have to add more exotics maybe? Something related to graves?" He mused outloud.

"This psionic stuff needs exotics to function?" Dai tried to clarify.

"Some of it does. It's sort of theme crossed with power. This is why I have trouble explaining it." Bolt sighed. "I'm not even sure the enhancement would be worth it. Really the mech works best as a game thing. The grave tokens themselves are a bit expensive and cumbersome, and the mech takes time to get everywhere. In real life combat there aren't neat combat lines and easy reloads."

"We do still have the nanomachine package for Ghoul. Some tweaks to that and using just a small bit of them and it would make the tokens reusable." Wu seemed happy to point out that part. "Does that help?"

The words gave Bolt a small idea. "Actually. I could then justify putting in a modified Heart Crystal there if they're reusable. It would accumulate psionic power then and that'd align right thematically enough for some thing to be done."

"Heh, why not make a boom then?" Dai commented before pausing. "Actually, this is 'psionics' right? Could you do a psionic attack like in fiction?"

"I'm unsure. I think too much might explode a head or something, but that'd require a large amount of something and testing that I really don't want to do." The designer held up a finger and left the room to grab some materials he used to make quick tests. He was back in a few minutes holding a replica of the Undertaker and one of the tokens it used. "I've found this useful to simulate spiritual, er psionic nonsense."

"You sure you didn't just want a toy?" Wu teased.

"Heh." Bolt chuckled slightly as he held up the grave token. "So... Actually we have a lot of this emotion around so I can sort of pull it. This is despair." He focused hard on the token for a minute. "Hold this next to your head and tell me what you think. This will be a reduced effect compared to the full version and might be a bit unpleasant."

Dai and Wu exchanged looks before Wu took it and brought the token up to her ear. She shuddered slightly and then passed it off to Dai. The man eyed it and then brought it to his forehead before quickly pulling it away.

"That is unpleasantly bizarre. I know it was imposed by an outside force, but I still felt it." The man handed the token back with an uneasy look that turned into a frown. "Would you have friend or foe recognition?"

"Somewhat?" Bolt felt less than certain of his answer. "It's very medium and intention dependent."

"Can you use the ECM package then? That's already attacking the enemy and helping the allies. I think that'd work conceptually?" Dai seemed to warm up with the idea. "How about instead of static it's ghosts! Or dark whispers?" He laughed.

The other designer stared at the man and gave a slow nod. "Doable." He noted. "Fitting too."

"Wait, what?" Dai asked incredulously.

"We'll do this design together so you can see how it works. How much would the nanomachine adjustment cost?" Bolt asked Wu, who was already running calculations.

"About a ten precent increase for the grave-tokens. Will your trick consume anything that would stop the reusability?" The woman asked and continued after a head shake. "Then it's a change that will make the Undertaker more cost efficient assuming the tokens are recovered after battle."

"Then we implement it on one, test it, and go from there." Bolt concluded with a grin.

One good thing about their production was that it was actually very easy to prototype something within a day or two if it was small. The grave tokens were tested out within the day, and the conclusion was that it made the jamming extremely disturbing. It wasn't going to break morale alone, but when combined with other things it magnified the horror tremendously. It also made the jamming more effective too, which was a nice bonus. Taken together it made the Undertaker surprisingly potent in defensive battles, which was perfect for what they needed.

 

[lost star]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was enough for now.

 

[lost star]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

End of Arc.

Spoiler: Mechs Built

Variant name: Monster Hunter
Base model: Monster Hunter

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

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


Variant name: Last Prayer
Base model: Last Prayer

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

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

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


Variant name: Wounded Angel
Base model: Wounded Angel

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

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

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



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

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

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


Special
Part Evaluation: Heart System

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

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


Variant name: Cu Sith
Base model: Cu Sith

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

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

 

[lost star]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Switch to audio!" Someone called out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

After-action thoughts, Kriff.

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

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

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

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

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

 

[lost star]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

[lost star]

Dai and Wu were settling in relatively well. The mountain was an unusual place to live in, but it had been designed to handle long term occupation. This meant more than just quarters and places to sleep in. Entertainment facilities and places of leisure were also included. Things like arcades, karaoke booths, bars, and even parks.

The latter were probably the largest areas. There were four of them in the mountain, set equally apart from one another and so large and artfully done you couldn't tell you weren't outside. Great pains had been taken to make them scenic and lovely, and even greater effort had been made to keep them that way. The Rats in charge of the area were downright fanatic in keeping it nice.

As one of the few places with proper greenery on the planet, this desire wasn't surprising. The two designers had seen the outside area. Calling it a blasted wasteland was understating it. It was a textbook example of what constant mech wars did to a planet. That people survived on it was a testament to the technology even the lowest had available, and their stubborn grit.

Though you wouldn't know it by looking at them in their parks. The places were nice. Filled with green grass, trees, and set to a lovely looking sun. There were playgrounds, places to run around in, and more. It was idyllic, and the people there very much appreciated it. There was always traffic. Sometimes too much really. The people maintaining the place would apparently 'complain' that people were loving it too much every now and again.

"Feels a bit odd that this is the height of luxury on the planet." Dai commented as the two of them walked along the paths. "I could travel to one of these places in minutes back home, and there's billions on the planet."

"Not the height. I think that'd be the showers they have." Wu disputed with a small smile. "The industrial ones."

"You mean the ones they throw people in when they're filthy?" The man asked with a chuckle.

Those were more akin to being sprayed down with hoses, though actually surprisingly nice. The water was hot and the soap they used left you feeling sparkly afterwards. It was one of the strange things the Wrench Rats had. A customized water-jet shower that was explicitly made to deal with heavy grease and mud quickly was amusing. That it had propagated to other areas was entertaining. There were a lot of surprising little quirks like that.

Wu nodded back. "The students spent a bit too much time there after their last outing to my knowledge."

"Not surprising." Dai paused and the two of them watched a few kids playing on a jungle gym. "Saw some of them with after-combat jitters. I had to direct them to medical."

PTSD and the like was both a common problem and treatable if you had the proper tools. The locals had lacked specialists, but those were slowly being trained up. The newcomers were filling in until then, to everyone's gratitude.

"Not sure I like the lesson." Wu mused out loud.

Dai snorted. "Ah yes, take young ones to an active battlefield and traumatize them! That will certain make an impression!" He waved his hands in emphasis.

"It did. Enough that a few quit." The woman said before they started walking down the path again. "I wonder if that is a loss or benefit?"

"Both in my judgement. We could use the hands, but if they cannot handle a sanitized trip like that at least once, they don't have the nerve to continue. Much as I disagree with the impromptu lesson, something like that is probably needed. Even the most sheltered designer will face pressures of some sort. I certainly would have loved it before we had our unfortunate trial." Dai frowned at the artificial sky. "It does explain some of Bolt's certainty and confidence though. He routinely went out in conditions like that."

"He grew up in ruin and came out with a desire to fix it. Almost poetic." Wu mused before pausing. "Oh, look!"

A small concert of sorts was forming. It was a recent thing apparently, even amongst the Rats. In an effort to spread cohesion and for entertainments sake, more than a few people had picked up music. The 'official' goal was to find the songs that best fit certain mechs and sing or play them. It was frequently just a way to play around with musical instruments and the like, as well as drink.

Dai made a face at the gathering. "Really not up for one of them."

"They're fun to listen to at least." Wu tilted her head and winced as someone's voice cracked. "Terrible singing aside."

"That's another strange thing. The insistence the techs have for music while building. Did you ever see the readouts for the Heart System that they use for proof?" The man frowned at the gathering as they walked by. "They're impossible to make sense of."

"I did. Most of it requires heavy interpretation and we're all certain we're missing a lot. Even the damage readouts from it are strange. It registers damage immediately, but part and form change sometimes takes minutes to hours. Those are the clearest too. They're registering something, but it's senseless at the same time. The-" Wu paused and cut herself off.

"Censored stuff we can't talk about in public is strange." Dai filled in and grinned. "It's an interesting mystery! Makes me think we're never going to be journeymen though!"

"Not everyone becomes one." Wu pointed out and nudged her friend. "We just have to get some sort of inspiration."

"Yeah good luck with that. I'm not some fancy genius. I'm a designer who can barely handle what I want to specialize in! There are millions of them! Even breaking them down into categories doesn't help." Dai ranted slightly before sighing.

Wu nudged him again but harder. "Don't compare yourself to Bolt."

"Yeah he only missed the record for Journeyman advancement by what, like a year or two?" Dai shook his head and picked up the pace. "He's even been getting better with weapons, and that was like his only flaw."

"The Last Prayer was rather exceptional weapon wise." Wu agreed as she stepped into synch with him. "I don't think he did the weapons for Cu Sith though."

"Oh yeah, I did ask about that. Bolt corroborate with an MTA Senior on it, and he wasn't sure where to stop on the blueprint. He just stopped when he felt like there was a good point and sent it to her for her to help." The man shook his head with a sigh. "She's better than him on weapons anyway, so it worked out, but..." He sighed again.

Wu giggled and nodded. "Yes, it's frustrating sometimes."

"Tell me about it. Like the angel. That one's very solid, but the rifle is generic. It doesn't hurt the design mind you. A simple rifle like that is sometimes ideal. It still frustrates me!" Dai mimed grabbing at his hair.

"Think you could do better?" Wu asked with a deliberately challenging expression.

Rather than challenge him the question made Dai deflate and shake his head before ranting again. "No. Customizing weapons is really hit and miss. Form factor is easy. Bolt already did that some with the weapons. For like the angel I could switch out to a different laser weapon and make it pretty, but it'd still be a laser weapon. Maybe with less range, or more range, or more fire rate. No, I think what frustrates me is that he talks about about this theme and story and art with the special stuff, and he just slapped a standard rifle on it at the end!"

"You'd think the thing would shoot feathers instead." Wu offered with a smile at her companion.

"Hah, there are some specific bullet types like that, but they're really gimicky and kind of expensive. That mech's already a bit pricy." Dai winced slightly as he recalled them. "And some of them were just shaped flechettes made to look pretty. They actually made the weapons worse. It works, but it's like seeing a masterpiece and knowing that there's one part that could be better. Yet I don't know how!"

The woman nodded along with that and angled towards the exit of the park. "Well, let's have some fun and try to design something anyway. This park isn't doing it for me. Let's get to the designer area."

"Hah, well lead the way!" Dai responded with a grin. "It's always fun to make something wildly impractical!"

Several hours later they did indeed have a wildly impractical rifle design. It was too expensive, too complex, and the damage didn't do enough to justify the latter two factors. It used nanomachines and the feather system in the feather chainmail to throw explosive feathers. Frankly the entire design was such a boondoggle that they didn't even want to produce it. The two designers had a fair bit of fun working on it, so they considered it a win. That is until the next day, where Bolt found it and decided it some potential. Enough that they could spend a day working at it together.

It ended up becoming an enormous headache for everyone. Literally. There were arguments, shouting, and some sort of clashing that they couldn't really physically define. Bolt was visibly trying to restrain himself somehow, and the junior designers ended up needing to both get painkillers. The end result was something viable! Possibly viable. The lab tests weren't thorough enough to give proper feedback. It would require live testing. Which was a bit iffy in the situations they were in.

 

[lost star]

Life had been pretty shitty lately. Well, the year had been shitty. The last few days hadn't been bad. Not great mind you, but not bad. Kriff had done his best for his people, but a pilot's lot in life was to fight in mechs. Johnny hadn't expected pure peace when he'd followed the man. He'd just wanted to live. And he was living now. He was even defending something worthwhile defending, which was a balm he didn't know he'd needed.

Really, this was as good as he could have wished for when he'd followed the general. Getting shipped to a funny mountain and given a funny mech to fuck up some space-trash was actually almost a vacation. Sure there was a risk of death. It was just a low risk at the moment. These current fuckers weren't exactly swimming in competence.

Case in point. Johnny was in a Wounded Angel. He was just above the mist-line on the mountain. His wing was down to give him some cover, and he was carefully lining up a shot on an absolute moron blundering around in the mist beneath him. The dipstick thought that because he couldn't see them, his opponents couldn't see him.

With Pup on the field Johnny could see everything. The only reason they weren't absolutely massacring everyone was to keep things close to the chest and sort of spread out the experience. Some of the newbies could use some careful introduction to combat, and live tests against drugged out fodder like this was the safest way they could manage. It was also the safest way to get some field data on a new weapon they might switch the angels to. Johnny had volunteered to give it a whirl and was eager to see if it was worth anything.

"All right, let's see if the fancy shooter is worth more than shit." Johnny whispered to himself as he finished aiming and had the mech gently squeeze the trigger.

The shot was oddly soft. More a loud puff or thump than a heavy bang. Through the mist Johnny could see something light up as it stuck to the target. Then there was a bang. The victim toppled. One good kill there.

Johnny frowned. It didn't feel like a good test despite the success. A frontline like that would have done down to one or two shots from the other rifle. A good rifle required a mix of fire rate, accuracy, range, and damage that fit what the mech needed to do. Based on the range the accuracy wasn't bad. It wasn't a sniper, but the angel wasn't meant to be a sniper. The rest?

"How's the status of things?" Johnny called out.

"Cleaning up mostly. Got a small group rallying on B-23." Another call out came.

"All right if I test the new shooter there then?"

"Possible if you don't play. There's a few Zombies there to cover you if needed. Be advised, one of em's actually more than chaff."

Johnny gave a click of acknowledgement and bounced down the cliff into the mist. He had to say that he liked the Wounded Angels. The other mechs were a bit hit and miss for him, but the angels felt like home. Calm, steady, and comfortable in an indefinable way. When he wasn't in direct combat it was soothing enough that his fried nerves almost felt like they were healing. This was why he wasn't afraid of continuing at the moment.

A few minutes later his sensors picked up a small group of mechs in the distance. The man judged the range and readied himself. He gave a brief burst on the com to signal he was ready and shouldered his rifle.

The rifle fired again. Again there was a puff. Not quiet. No mech-sized weapons could be silent. It was less of a bang than projectiles and not a sizzle like the lasers. It was a puff that jerked the rifle slightly. This time he fired as quickly as possible, testing accuracy while firing quickly. The rifle held about a hundred shots before it needed a reload, and he squeezed off about ten before the enemy actually managed to react.

Several mechs had lit up as the 'bullets' hit them. Johnny had managed a fifty percent accuracy. Which was decent enough accuracy against slowly moving targets considering the circumstances. One hundred percent accuracy was in the realms of experts and expensive marksmen. The effect of his attack was more interesting. The way they lit up when struck was a rather amusing tell, and some of the mechs outright panicked when they realized they'd been hit. On his side the visceral confirmation was surprisingly satisfying.

Johnny didn't know the exact details of how the weapon fired. He was just testing and would give feedback later. The weapon itself felt fitting for the mech at least. The rifle was modeled off a 'wing.' Almost like the angel had torn off its wing and used it as a weapon. It shot little feather projectiles that stuck to the target, those feathers then exploded a half second or so after impact.

Damage wise, it was about the same as the laser rifle if one feather hit, at least based off Johnny's estimates. Multiple hits seemed to scale. Sensors indicated that the one he'd struck multiple times had gotten a nice big chunk taken out of it, which indicated a sort of scaling explosive damage. That was something he wanted to explore a bit more. Fortunately there was one nice little target already waiting for him.

The mech in the center of the enemy formation was a proper one. It had pinned his general direction and was currently charging right now. Johnny felt like that one was going to be the best test. He lowered his wing and began to move and fire as he skirmished with the enemy, deliberately holding his performance down enough to get a proper feel of what this new rifle could do.

Some shots pinged off his defenses. Nothing worthwhile. With the mist cover and his movements, the enemy couldn't really get accuracy at this range. They knew it too, trying to close in while zigging and zagging now that they were certain of his position.

Johnny fired off as rapidly as possible while falling back. The feathers were actually very bright when they hit now that he was watching it. Deliberate choice or something the designers didn't account for? Hard to tell, but entertaining. Doubly so because he could tell how many were stuck in. The detonation time was also more variable than he thought. It felt almost intelligent because he could practically feel it waiting for the optimum time to detonate. He pegged it six times before he decided that was enough, and then it blew.

The explosion both blew the mechs arm off and half of its torso apart. Johnny watched as it toppled and felt his eyebrows raise up before he carefully approached to examine the damage. It was more than a little strange if he were to be honest. The armor almost looked cracked. He could see round parts where the feathers had hit, but also lines connecting them. A sort of shattering effect? How'd they manage that?

The man shrugged and tagged the mech with no more thought. Let the smart people evaluate if the weapon was worth it from a damage standpoint. His review wouldn't be glowing, but it would say that he couldn't find issues so far. It wasn't worse at least. Sticking them multiple times and blowing them up was actually rather entertaining at a minimum. It also felt surprisingly easy to use too, which was a fairly nice benifit.

Wing-Ripper- A custom weapon produced by two initiates who have been instructed on X-factor construction. This unique basis has formed a weapon specifically compatible with the mech known as the Wounded Angel. Due to this, and the X-factor, the weapon has some unusual features that make it useful and unique as a primary weapon. Those features are, glowing bullets, resonant and scaling explosions, and intuitive detonation. This makes the weapon an upgrade over the mech's previous armaments, which is high praise considering the skill level of the primary makers.

 

[lost star]

Piloting a Ghoul was very hard. Skirmishers in general were actually pretty hard truthfully, but Ghouls were a step above due to their non-standard nature. Most melee skirmishers had knives or blades, with the knowledge that you'd stick them into the vulnerable spots. Very simple and intuitive. The claws on a Ghoul were meant to rip and tear. The arms made it so that you had to re-do your muscle memory as well due to their length. Really, every part of the mech was non-standard. It was why the mech worked so well when in close range. The slightly off nature of everything made them unpleasant to fight and difficult to predict. Coupled with a design and appearance made to disturb and you got a mech that terrorized its opponents while fighting them.

This wasn't getting into the other factors. The 'eating' functionality was difficult to adapt to as a pilot and unpleasant to witness. The repair process was likewise more than a little unpleasant in many respects. Bolt had committed to a theme and stuck to it to point of what many considered insanity. The mech-line was niche for multiple reasons.

Of course Lilly hadn't cared about all of that. She'd loved the mech through all its iterations and she'd trained the newly named 'Back Scratchers' to the best of her considerable ability and then some with that love. Ghoul had been her first real mech, and she knew all the little tricks. She's made damned sure that every single one of them could pilot the mech with what she considered proper skill before unleashing them.

It has to be said, what an expert considers proper skill and what was actually proper skill were rather different. When the Ghouls were let loose, the general assumption was that they'd destroy a few groups and sow some terror. The mech design was optimal for picking at the edges and waiting for opportune moments. The top notch endurance meant that it could be extremely patient and carefully worm it's way into odd areas to strike from while also maintaining operations with no support.

The Back Scratchers did none of that. They simply feasted upon their victims. The descended upon groups and devoured them wholesale. Some patrols were destroyed before they could even get a word out. They'd be found with their insides ripped out and the pilots so traumatized they couldn't speak. They became notorious within days. By the end of the week of their shakedown, they'd conclusively proven that the formation of their unit was well done.

They were in fact so good that Lilly decided their next foray would be with her helping. The decision was half because she wanted to have fun and half to stretch her legs. Kriff hadn't seen fit to try to dissuade her. Dowry did already have a bit of a reputation. Seeing her on the field with 'sister' mechs would certainly do things. Also morale was important too. Lilly having fun meant she was in a better mood for later.

And she did have fun. The resulting massacre drove away every single independent mech from the mountain. You could go days in any direction before there was even a hint of people. It was so absolutely effective that they ran out of people to fight and had to return earlier than planned. Some of the people had outright surrendered and begged to be thrown at the sandmen before she'd even approached. The tales of 'that insane monster' became ghost stories, and the allied mercenaries actually called up the mountain to ask what the hell was going on.

Kriff actually had to forbid the Back Scratchers from deploying without orders after that. Oh he would still be unleashing them when it was needed, but they actually wanted some of the unwanted guests to stick around the area. Monitoring their movements let him evaluate their organization and plans. If they were several days away he had to rely on other means.

That wasn't to say there were many plans yet. For all the worry about the wave of incoming invaders, the reality was most of them were simply desperate people. Some had simply landed because there was no other option. There was conflict all over the world at the moment. Some people were fighting because they need fuel, others because of food, and some were landing and then leaving as soon as they could.

As a whole, the local Rats were actually quite used to this sort of behavior. The scale was up there, but there were mech graveyards in the planet for a reason. Adding more steel to the pile was just sort of par for the course. If anything they were used to a higher caliber of people. A lot of the bandits / refugees / invaders weren't even checking for natives. They'd land, another person would land, the two groups would fight, and the Rats would rob them both blind. (Let it not be said they were unwelcome hosts.)

Not everything was good for the natives. There were massacres and enslavement and the like happening. It was just again something they had bitter experience with. If anything Olympus and the people on it was a very large net benefit for the planet. They were a focus for all the really greedy groups to look at. A big, glorious target that drew the eye and triggered the lust for rewards.

Bolt and his family got a lot of experience fighting over the coming days and weeks. Some large battles, some small battles. It might have been police work in another planet, one with a functioning government. Here it was dissuading criminals with more metal and machine than sense. Some people even tried to land outside the fog and hike into the place on foot rather than in mechs. The smarter ones used the railway. The dumber ones tried to just get through the mist. Most of them never made it, and those that got to the doors were caged up and practically thrown somewhere else. There was a time and place for mercy. This was not that time.

For a time, it seemed as if this would be the sum total of the problem. Scattered groups and infighting causing the majority of the issues. Then the warlords started to come in. The ambitious organizers and remnants of broken shield nations.

These weren't people that a few raids from Lilly and The Back Scratchers could break alone. They were large groups of a hundred to a thousand mechs, all gathered together around the mountain. It was the first real coordinated push, complete with artillery, flying mechs, and more. Both dangerous, and fully possible of breaking the defenders.

Lilly was first on the line, tasked to break up the largest group. The group of military deserters with full combined arms. She did so alone, with Morning Star. The others were sent to other areas. Lilly was expected to handle a single front with minimal support. The goal was not to win. It was to keep the enemy tied up while the others were defeated with more focused attacks.

Kriff really hadn't wanted to do it, but the mech had been designed to handle a scenario just like this.

 

[lost star]

Lilly stood alone on the field. The mist was not present for once. All that remained was dried and cracked ground, dust, and the remains of mechs they had not bothered to remove. It was a potent visual scene, which was the point.

She wasn't so prideful to think she could win against a small army. She was good, and Morning Star was built for this, but experts could get worn down. They could run out of fuel. They could get tired and make mistakes. Even the step above, Saints, Aces, they could eventually falter over time. Only God Pilots could be said to be infinite, and even they had to bow to the whims of reality and numbers eventually.

Yet there was a path of victory here anyway. It was one of morale. Of the mind. Lilly had to convince the enemy that she was an impossible summit to cross. That needed visibility. It also needed theatrics. The woman wasn't really thinking those exact words, but she'd been trying to be better at verbalizing in an effort to improve herself. When you could define what instinct told you, you could improve it.

One problem with the visibility was that the enemy knew where she was almost immediately. They also couldn't really avoid her. This entire battle was a simple mass rush of forces from multiple angles. The enemies were attacking in that way in an attempt to overwhelm them with numbers and prevent infighting. Moving to another area would cause a clash with their nominal allies and do the work for the defenders.

This group of enemies began by trying to land shells on her position. It was both boring and so standard it could have come out of a textbook. The truest and most base form of artillery sent explosives towards the enemy. Made in mech form, they were the 'standard' heavy artillery mech. Every army had something like them, and they usually had a good dozen of some sort of very generic types that they used when they wanted firepower in a specific area. They were 'cheap' for a heavy, painfully boring, but also very hard to mess up. They used big guns to fire big explosions in a pre-plotted area and were really just cannons with legs usually.

Lilly wondered a bit if they were trying to confirm if she was an expert or not by starting with them. All it was accomplishing was forcing her to move just a bit. Explosives like this in this day and age were used to siege, to disrupt formations, or to kill pinned forces. They were not used against experts. It would take a direct hit to really damage her and she could track and plot the shells midair before they landed. Only extensive firepower would have been a threat. This was just a bit akin to playing dodgeball against someone with a bum arm.

It took almost five minutes before the next phase started. It wasn't a surprise despite the enemy attempting to be subtle. Lilly had been alerted far before they came into range of her sensors. The mists were off, but the rest of the traps and such had been retained. She knew exactly when the enemy had sent in more mechs. It was almost sound as a tactic. Tire her with artillery, then bring in ranged, and then bring her down as she approached.

"Is this standard against experts?" Lilly asked out loud.

"Standard is bring in another expert. Even elites against experts just die a bit slower. Ya gotta be willing to throw people into a fucking grinder if you want to take an expert down without one." Kriff answered.

Lilly raised her eyebrows. "Aren't you busy with the other fronts?"

"They're moving into position and don't need direct management. You're the one I'm worried about." Kriff noted. "I have a direct line on you. The other enemy groups will likely commit once they've confirmed your there and are bogged down. You got a rep. What Pup can do is still unknown."

"Ah, delay then?" The expert asked back.

"No, rush in when you have an opening and bleed them as long as you can. Pull back when you're about half and start to delay then, if they're smart they'll try to commit then. I'll throw the Back Scratchers at them at that point. It will be the best time to gut them." The general ordered. "Please don't be risky. I read what the mech is designed for, I haven't actually fucking seen it and can't judge what's good or not."

Lilly couldn't help but laugh before she turned off the coms and focused. The definition between her and her mech blurred as she synched with the spirit, and then she charged forward. The sudden movement had a visible effect on the men approaching. They flinched as one and backpedaled while firing wildly in her general direction.

Dodging was barely even necessary. These were soldiers, but soldiers that had deserted and traveled with minimal support. They lacked practice and discipline. The sheer volume of fire did hit her a bit, but that was what the Pride system was for. The wings absorbed the damage with barely any trouble, and then Lilly was close enough for Greed to latch onto them.

Electricity leached out of them and into her. Morning Star's power reserves were topped off quickly, and then the blades lashed out. Dead, dead, dead. Mechs fell to the ground before she even got into melee. She took a moment to rip off parts before dancing back as her position was shelled. Lightning arched around her as the systems began to rev up. Around her several pilots died from friendly fire and Lilly shook her head at the pointless action.

It didn't even cover the approaching enemies, because the sensors around the area had long since picked them up. She was technically surrounded now, but under no threat. They were all in Greed and every second was giving her more strength.

"I assume that was a feint with really expendable pilots?" Lilly mused as dozens of skirmishers started to come in from the sides.

Morning Star's largest problem in combat if you squinted was her weapon systems. Every mech had what was best described as a set of spheres around them they were a threat in. Morning Star's daggers and lightning could only go so far before they lost penetration power. This wasn't really a new issue. Every mech had an ideal engagement range. Swordsmen mechs still worked in a time where guns and snipers existed. There were ways to deal with range and speed. A good pilot trained against all sorts of foes and had tactics of dealing with everything.

Admittedly Lilly didn't want nor need to use them at the moment. She just focused on making more daggers with Gluttony while the approaching skirmishers attempted to shoot her from just outside her range. It probably would have been annoying had she been in any other mech. Here she could extend Greed just enough that their frantic attempts to kite her were actually hurting them more than her and Pride could regenerate enough that their machine guns weren't particularly threatening.

Hilariously, it took a few minutes for them to realize this. It only became apparent when a few of them started to slow down from a lack of power. At which point Lilly was able to just leisurely move forward and cut them down.

Of course that was when the snipers tried taking their shots, but again, this wasn't particularly dangerous. Sure a direct hit would hurt, but normal people's intent was easy to feel. Lilly was almost feeling bad for the enemies at the moment. Almost. This was the expected result of throwing normal people at an expert.

"We doing good on time?" The expert asked.

"Need at least ten before I can provide more support than the Scratchers and artillery shots." Kriff shot back with tension in his voice. "Status?"

"Still on full. It feels like they're trying to wear me down without committing." Lilly said as she dodged another shot and watched as the remaining enemies skittered back outside the range she'd currently displayed.

"You've been at combat enough that most normal people would start making small mistakes." The general informed her. "Experts can usually last twice as long if they're careful and ration their willpower. Less if they're fighting experts."

"So I should assume, oh. Here it comes already." The woman stared at the sensors as a mass started to move in. "That's the commitment finally."

"Which is what we need and where you're actually in danger." The man reminded her.

Lilly laughed. Right here and now? This was more of a feast than a danger. Several hundred coordinated mechs were approaching. She could see shields in the leading ones. They hadn't even equipped weapons on them and half the men felt as if they were being forced into it. The rest had rifles and shotguns and more. No precision weapons, just wide area weapons that she couldn't dodge.

She couldn't help it. She flared her wings and put everything into her mech. Electricity ran up and down her body and the halo flared with lighting. Greed enveloped them all and drank up all the power and the extra daggers she had rose up into the air.

In seconds half the enemy mechs close to her were inoperational. The other half was frantically trying to destroy her. Lilly had barely even registered how she'd done it. Lighting and empowered resonance had fried most of them as she'd approached. It was a slight miscalculation on her end truthfully. With less enemies around she could pull in less power and had less cover. Not that this hindered her much, it just complicated things more.

Yet for every body that fell, more took their place. Lilly's world became a wash of metal and battle as she tried her best to take her pound of metal. She was fairly sure that without her spirit she would have been making mistakes. She would have been getting tired. She was certainly taking damage. This many attackers were impossible to dodge. They fortunately hadn't been informed about the Envy system though, so the damage was less than it could have been. The flamers and energy weapons that were the most obvious counter to her mobility were just less effective.

It was still adding up. Even if she felt like a goddess of lightning and had fried what had to be a hundred mechs she was still slowly losing durability. Lilly disengaged after an indeterminate amount of time on instinct more than anything else. The clock told her how long she'd been fighting, but she really couldn't register it at the moment. Power was still at full, willpower was, maybe about half. Damage was... ok?

"Getting a bit pushed." Lilly said into the coms, feeling almost like she'd had a glass of wine. She pulled back from her mech and realized she was drenched with sweat and needed a drink. The damage reports made more sense then, and she was mostly dinged all over. Nothing critical. "Sorry, got caught up. Can't say if I'm at fifty but prob should start being more cautious."

"That's fine venerable Lilly." Kriff's voice was calm. "Can you pull back?"

"Not with the skirmishers there." The woman said after a moment of evaluation, dodging around as best she could and downing some water with quick gulps. It refreshed and cleared her head. "Looks like they think they've got me on the ropes."

"Scratchers engaging. The Maidens are too. Avoid the designated areas." The general said.

What happened next was more battle naturally. It was just less frantic on her end. When the Maidens started raining down lasers the enemy became far less committed to attacking her and more committed on surviving. It went double when they started being hit from behind. Her personally trained helpers were not gentle in tearing out parts.

Lilly did have to admit that in any other mech she would have likely been very close to death with the stunt she'd just pulled. She'd thrown herself right into the middle of an army and had been able to walk out without critical damage. That was both spectacular and a very potent demonstration of what Morning Star could do. It was also not likely going to happen again. This sort of thing created a reputation.

Which was fine, because that was a weapon in itself.

 

[lost star]

"I'm half hoping you have another wonder build that could solve everything else based off this result." Kriff began as he and Bolt spoke after the battle.

The design nodded while examining the general to get a feel of how this would go. The man looked a lot better now than when he'd first landed. Doing his job successfully was agreeing with him apparently. It was helping all the newcomers really. There was the standard friction that came with a lot of new people, but the pressure combined with purpose was keeping things cohesive and forcing them to fuse together socially. Which was very welcome. One less problem for now and the future.

"Kinda tricky to repeat honestly. I build mechs. Sometimes they're good ones." The man commented as neutrally as he could considering the circumstances.

Kriff nodded. "Yes, good ones." He said dryly as he indicated the map between them and the highlighted destruction Lilly had just caused.

Night was falling, and the enemy was pulling back. Lilly had held an entire front by herself for a few critical minutes, allowing them to focus completely on the other areas before lending her aid. It was a demonstration of expertise on her end, but also on everyone else's end as well. Pup had been key to wrapping up the places Lilly hadn't been in, and it had been a solid demonstration of why he'd become a priority target once people figured out what he did.

"All right people we have a victory, but the wars still going. Day crew off. Night crew on. I'm going to bunk shortly. If they get another group call me, but we all know cleanup." Kriff ordered the room before turning back to Bolt. "I have to ask first though, and don't take this the wrong way, but why are you here?"

"Huh?" Bolt responded with confusion.

"I mean on this world. That sort of performance alone would be enough for a red carpet to any nation you wanted. I've been informed that you have a personal relationship with the MTA. You could easily find yourself a position in a Second Rate nation. Maybe even a First Rate. You could have this entire damned mountain pulled up, with the people if you wanted to." The general said with absolutely no subtlety.

"Ah." The designer nodded in understanding and gave a very simple answer back. "Don't wanna."

"That's it?" Kriff asked.

Elaborating some was fairly easy. "This is my home. I'd rather fight and die here than leave to a place where I'd be designing in some glass fishbowl fer treats." Bolt explained.

The older man stared a moment before he barked out a bitter laugh. "Hah! My entire nation crumbles around me, every single designer we carefully cultivated cut and run, I got to personally see the leader of our nation fleeing on his personal yacht, and here I find a man with more fucking steel in his spine than them all together."

Bolt winced slightly at the tirade after it was finished. "Are you, er ok?" He carefully asked.

"No, but I'll live." The general took a few breaths and calmed himself. "Let's move onto other topics. Can you make another Morning Star?"

"You mean replace the mech or make one for normal people?" Bolt responded.

"The latter." Kriff tapped on the map again. "Let's reword it, how feasible is it to make a Morning Star for normal people?"

"I wish. The Wounded Angels are probably the most economical you can get fer normal mechs. Morning Star is using money and a good expert ta make something that does very good in certain situations." Bolt did a few quick calculations as he tried to determine things. "The Feather Chainmail is the only part that I could use in anything else. A normal shield or armor is better in a lotta situations too. Honestly, I don't think anything else based off her would be worth pursuing with the tech we have." There were certainly options, but Morning Star worked because of several very costly synergistic systems focused around her being an expert mech.

"Not surprising. Then we need to expand our roster. I've identified a few holes. The biggest priority is something that can do a fast strike." Kriff said with a nod. "Right now the combo we have is extremely good when we can prep the ground or take our time to roll up. I need something that can do a quick kick to the balls. The Ghoul line is more backline harassment and skirmishing rather than quick elimination."

That did require some clarification. "Something like the Bloody Berserker?"

"It'd work if it wasn't slow as fuck outside boosting." The general paused and quickly added. "That's not to say those are worthless. The Berserkers are extremely useful in specific scenarios. Sometimes you want to say fuck these guys in particular. The Berserkers are probably one of my favorite things for that. They lack the speed I need. I could have smashed the fuckers Lilly had snared with them in a few minutes instead of having to be fancy with maneuvers and backstabbing. It worked, but it wasn't optimal."

"Ah, would a flier work then?" Bolt asked as he sounded out ideas.

"Maybe." Kriff gave a grunt and looked at the map as he thought, then did a few taps to bring up a sim. "Basically here's what happened and why I need that." He setup a little figure of Lilly's mech on the map.

Once Lilly was set the general added a lot of mechs around her. He then indicated a few areas in red and set more mechs elsewhere. Bolt admittedly didn't get a lot of what he was showing.

"Put simply, I have a nice big juicy target right here." Kriff indicated the mechs that had guns and were nearby Lilly. "I also have a target here." He indicated the artillery mechs farther away. "Ghouls are best against those." He gestured to the far mechs and placed a few of the mechs there. "I need something for these guys." He indicated the ranged mechs a small distance away from Lilly. "If I had a lancer group I'd break them with a clean sweep. A flier would work too, but I've seen like one mech that could do the damage I'd need here quickly. Most flying mechs are harassment and scouting. The flying-lancer mech combo works when it'd done right, but it requires a very unique mindset and is probably one of the highest risk mechs you can pilot. We're a bit low on people who can do that at the moment and without flying mechs our current good fliers are losing their edge."

Bolt's mind gnawed on that statement a bit as he tried to figure out things. What would be best here? What exactly did he need? How could he do it, and what would the cost be? He needed to brainstorm.

"Give me a few days and I can have a proposal. Let me know how it works out." Bolt concluded. "Can't say what it'll be, but I focus on fast and hard hitting."

"That'll be enough." Kriff wiped the map and straightened up. "Thank you by the way. I expected some more friction. You know you don't have to take orders from me, but you're doing it anyway."

Bolt gave a small crooked grin. "We all know enough ta let the subject matter experts do their thing. Me and Lilly never really wanted ta lead. We just wanted to do our own thing." He gestured to the command area. "Well, you can see how it went. So long as ya do right by us, we'll do right by you."

Left unsaid was that Bolt did have some insurance. Putting aside the nebulous MTA backing, the local security was all Wrench Rats, and the Fu-Dogs were quite a big deterrence from someone trying something with people. Kriff had his people and a lot of mechs they'd given him. A betrayal would just have everyone but Bolt and his family die.

Trust was good, but trust plus a punishment if the trust was broken was better.

 

[lost star]

Bolt and Lilly had a new place to play together. It wasn't one they used often, but it was a place both secured and easy to access. They simply had to have a token to enter. In Lilly's case it was a replica of Morning Star. In Bolt's case, one of the many Heart Tokens or one of the mech replicas. He had a lot he could use. He probably didn't even need them, but the tool was comfortable and easy to use.

That place was the spiritual side Mech-Halla. The two liked to visit when they went to bed sometimes. There were a few quiet and semi-quiet places they could talk in with absolutely no surveillance. Considering they were likely under surveillance by the MTA at all times, this was precious beyond words and also not something they wanted to hint that existed in reality. It was also useful for other things.

"Hey guys, you up for some battle!?" Lilly asked the mech spirits that dwelt in the area.

The question was completely superfluous. The question wasn't if the spirits were up for battle, it was what sort of battle. Bolt wasn't exactly sure what he'd get from all of this, but it was worth a shot and would be entertaining as well.

"Mind showing off some? My hubby's trying to decide if he wants to make a flier or lancer and he needs some examples of good and bad." The woman asked blatantly and gestured to the spiritual area.

Hilariously, that seemed to get the mech spirits more fired up, not less. They conferred in something that wasn't words with one another before they all stepped back and sort of blended into the background. A few seconds later a large war manifested itself in front of both of them.

"Oh wow." Lilly breathed out.

It was worthy of awe. The spirits were obviously showing off, but that did not detract from what was being shown. Bolt didn't recognize the sides. The mechs involved looked like almost current generation. Perhaps slightly behind but not much. The number of them was in the millions. This was a battlefield that beggared belief. It also showed Bolt exactly what he wanted to see.

Lancers prowled through the battle. Fliers danced through the sky. Artilary rained down. A few experts fought and the war swirled around them. It was chaos in the way only war could be.

"This isn't a historical battle." Bolt realized after a moment. "They're using older mech designs, but the field itself is original."

"Still works and that's even better! Heh, I think those two mechs knew each other in real life." Lilly pointed at two of the experts fighting.

"I'm more impressed at the fidelity they're managing." Bolt concluded. "This would require supercomputers." How much processing power was possible in a spirit construct?

"Lets have less boggling at the technical stuff." Lilly directed his attention to a few areas. "Look, they're trying to show a lot of the stuff we need."

They were, failures and successes alike. What had worked with flying mechs, what had not, and the same for lancers. It was a very good practical lesson on how the two types of mechs worked in war. Far different than the sanitized textbook tactical analyses.

"Hm." Bolt let out as he watched. "Lancers are higher skill floor than I thought."

"It's a judgement thing. They're easy when you don't have to worry about the buddy next to your target. In big battles that's why you have generals." Lilly gave her input and snuggled into her husband's side.

"True. I don't think they should be our next mech type though. Look at how they got smashed when they finished their charge and couldn't disengage." Bolt noted one particular group that was being ground down and wrapped his arm around his wife.

Lilly shrugged and yawned. "Your call. I'm just watching."

"What we really could use is something that can smash a lot of less armored targets I think." Bolt mused.

To his mild amusement Lilly didn't answer because she was half asleep already. Bolt didn't blame her. It had been a long day. He was probably going to join her soon. It wasn't the first long day they'd had, and it wouldn't be the last. He drifted off to the thoughts of mechs.

The next day had them both do a workout together and then moving onto their other tasks. Lilly was going to 'rest' by doing some mild sims and probably spending some time in the park. Bolt moved to his designing station to get to work.

By this point he'd made his decision. He wanted a flyer. A lancer's role was half-covered by Bloody Berserker. A flyer could cover the fast response area, and if he did the weapon right it would work out just fine for their needs.

Bolt made some preliminary sketches, focusing on the weapon. Maybe a big lance? It would be possible. You'd have to reinforce the frame significantly, and it would be a fuel hog because that was a lot of materials needed. The run time wouldn't be good either, but Bolt was sure he could do something about addressing that.

Staring at the initial sketch Bolt had second thoughts. Kriff had said it was high skill, and they didn't have enough of those types of pilots. Plus this was going to be expensive. Expensive and high skill was not something useful for their current circumstances. He threw the idea in the wastebin. They needed something more generalist, or at least less risky.

The next thought was something that hovered in air and sniped. This was possible, but a review of other designs brought up problems. Shooting things from a distance away was actually rather hard in atmosphere. Doing so from flight required a dedicated system. Not only was the pilot not on a stable platform, the way the air moved could alter a bullet's path significantly. Lasers were also a bit iffy because to get that sort of power you required a fair few hoops to go through.

Out of curiosity Bolt dug through how other fliers were done. A lot of it corroborated what he'd been shown by the mech spirits. Most were given light weapons and used for harassment. They'd never get kills, but they'd certainly force enemies to respond. The weight requirements for flying mechs at Third Rate were harsh. Hell, they were harsh at Second Rate. It was just the nature of the beast. If you wanted something flying, you had to be frugal.

Come to think of it, all the successful mechs he'd been shown had prioritized speed and harassment. Even the expert fliers hadn't been deadly immediately. They'd never stopped moving and always hit something from oblique angles. Flying mechs could not face mechs head on. They were simply too light.

Bolt looked though the weapons again with that in mind, and with a new idea. Instead of big shots, how about little ones? He didn't want machine guns, or lasers. The plan started to come to him. A black crow that spread curses. He needed a specific weapon for it though. He wanted... Something that wasn't there.

With a sigh the man tapped on the designer screen and thought. He then realized that he might have been getting ahead of himself again. Bolt sent off a quick message to Kriff, and was bemused to get a near instant message back from one of his aides. Yes, bird mechs were fine for flying mechs. They had the pilots for them. (There was even an addendum that it was very common.)

Goal confirmed Bolt began looking through what he needed. A few preliminary sketches looked promising. The idea of a crow that spread curses was something that felt like it resonated with the spiritual aspect of his work. He did need to look into aerodynamics and the weapon system though. The former was just review of the principles. The latter was more important because there was nothing out there on the market. Bolt could probably...

The man's thoughts trailed off and he stared at his designer station as something occurred to him. He could make it. He wanted to make it. He very deliberately decided he was not going to do so.

Dai and Wu had gone out of their way to make a weapon for the Wounded Angel. Wing Ripper had been painful for them. They'd endured admirably, and held no bad feelings, but Bolt himself felt horrible in retrospect. He'd come very close to actually injuring his friends because of ignorance. Yet he'd also learned a lot about how to work with others and what they could take. He had a new path forward for collaboration due to that. That new path would be best used here.

He was not going to be the 'lead' on this mech. It would not have his design philosophy as the primary focus. The two aides needed mechs in their name to progress and this concept would be perfect to push them forward in his mind. He would deliberately reinforce them instead of doing his own thing with this mech. It would also hopefully count for their Journeyman accreditation with the MTA. That got a bit complicated with collaborative works. (They would also need a mech designed by just them, but that could be later.)

For now the two were hosting a lesson with their students in the main designing lab. Bolt saved his preliminary design and got to his feet. It wouldn't hurt to use this project as a lesson too probably.

 

[lost star]

For once, the large designing room didn't feel too empty. It wasn't full mind you, but it had enough people that it didn't feel unpleasant to be in. Bolt entered it with amusement that turned into mild embarrassment as everyone's attention turned to him.

"Was just gonna wait until you had a pause." The man mumbled to the room.

"And here we have the man, the myth, the legend!" Dai called out from the head of the room.

"Yes yes." Bolt rolled his eyes and then scowled slightly at the clapping some joker started. "Well, since yer all interrupted, you're showing the newbies what we use for design?"

"There's always a bit of acclimatization to each company's programs. Since they're all going to start here it saves everyone some time." Dai confirmed with a shrug.

"All right then. I have a mech uploaded to the central database." Bolt glanced around at the monitors and winced internally. "I can take over."

He had been planning to make a lesson out of making a new mech, but all the students were not even close to getting anything out of it. He'd miss-estimated their level of technical ability. That was fine. He could adapt easily.

"Are you certain?" Wu asked from the side.

"You'll have my notes, and I should probably talk with all these guys anyway." Bolt waved the two off and gave the uncertain class a once over. "They all think I'ma gonna bring em out into the mud again apparently, and that should probably be corrected." The man concluded with a small chuckle.

The two other designers exchanged looks and then shrugged before leaving with mild bemusement. Bolt took the time to take a lap around the room. The expressions on his students faces ranged from uncertainty to mild fear. Not particularly conductive to a lesson, which was mostly his fault probably.

"So, ya'll are looking like I'm gonna shoot you or something." The designer took a seat at the front of the room. "Ain't got a reason for it. I can't say I won't take you out again. I can say I'll do my damnedest to always keep you safe. I can also say that today we're just gonna sit in here, nice and safe, and teach you the basics of the designer programs."

He brought up the designer program on the big screen. Then set out a few skeletons. Just that. He had one wave.

"This is yer basic mech skeleton. It's simple, it lacks any special stuff, and every humanoid mech uses this as a basis. We're going to walk you through how to get one on your screen and how to add onto it." The man instructed.

This wasn't the time to be fancy. It was basics of the basics. Stuff Bolt could do in his sleep, but also stuff that each and every student had just barely started on. Bolt didn't even have to worry about hurting them with his designer specialty at the moment. These teenagers weren't really designers yet. They were just young men and women getting the grounding to become designers. They literally couldn't understand anything that could damage their foundations because those were non-existent.

It turned out to be surprisingly nostalgic teaching everyone. There was a lot of fumbling and problems with even the most basic stuff. Every program, no matter how intuitive, required a lot of work to get really proficient at it. Bolt remembered his first steps into it and how much pain he'd been in teaching himself. It was very good that these kids had someone to help them. Though it was a bit of a waste for him specifically to do it. He didn't mind. Sometimes it was fun to just do something simple.

Skeletons were rather easy to do once you got a feel for the basic inputs. The students managed it within an hour of careful guidance. Once that was done they also made some rather entertaining first attempts at 'mechs.' If you could call metal parts fused with a few muscles and a reactor mechs. None of their creations would stand up in reality, and every one of them would have ripped themselves apart when activated in some fashion. This was actually perfectly fine. Bolt encouraged it by having the mech designs run through the simulators and showing how they failed.

"And this is why you have to be very careful about how you place your reactor. It's designed to fail safely, but it's still a very energetic part." Bolt told the class as one particularly spectacular failure happened.

"Don't the standard ones have like three separate safety measures?" One of the student asked.

"More like a dozen. You have to specifically disable a few of them to get this to happen." The designer replied with a small grin. "Mechs as a rule won't do this unless you deliberately design them this way. Even self destruct systems don't do explosions that large. This was a run-away reactor scenario." He chuckled as he watched the sim explode again. "It also wouldn't actually happen in reality either. It's very technically a bug in the programs we use. That's another thing to remember, all sims have flaws."

"Even the big fancy First Rate ones?"

"Even them, but they're small ones. Remember, building something is always the best test. Sims are there to save everyone time and money. They catch glaring flaws, they're no substitute for life." Bolt glanced at the clock and realized they'd spent several hours on this. "And speaking of time, we've passed the time we had allotted to this. Ya'll can stay and play if you want, but tomorrow it's back to the lesson plans you have scheduled. I'll give you permission to come in here and use the stations, but sims will be locked down. They use the mountain's supercomputers for processing and that can be in high demand sometimes."

Some of the students began to trickle out after his words, obviously eager to return to their families. Others sort of huddled around particular stations where they'd figured out how to do entertaining failures. Most of which involved explosions of some sorts. Bolt made sure the stations were set to allow this and left the kids to it. Personally he found it rather boring after one or two big failure, but they were new and children. Funny explosions and positions were just part of that phase of life. They weren't hurting anything doing it, and the simulations could handle simple stuff like that indefinitely so long as no one else needed the runtime.

Bolt had to restrain himself from visiting Dai and Wu. He instead moved onto other tasks, wrapping up a few smaller decisions that needed to be done. Of special note, there was a small upsurge in requests to build his mechs on other planets. Say what you would about the insanity happening here and elsewhere, mechs still needed to be built for other things. The attacks against the mountain actually doubled as advertising, as grim as that was to talk about. Practical demonstrations were worth more than any commercial or hype. Reviewing the contracts there was something that took a bit of time and wasn't something he could foist off.

It was lengthy enough that the day was over when he was done. Bolt went to bed early and got up earlier. It was only after he'd eaten and done his morning routine that Bolt finally let himself go visit his friends. The two had sequestered themselves in one of the small team rooms. These ones were a bit too intimate for Bolt's taste. Two to four terminals and very close. It wasn't bad, it just wasn't something he liked using. He wasn't sure what the said about his designing preferences, but it probably wasn't something good.

"Pay up." Wu said as Bolt entered, and Dai grumbled as he passed a chip to the woman.

"Oh?" Bolt asked as he entered the room.

"I expected you to last until lunch at least." The man said with a small chuckle.

"Hah. I gotta work on that then. Too predictable." Bolt joked as he took a seat and glanced at the design.

"We have the preliminary idea." Dai explained. "The crow swoops down and lets loose a series of darts that deliver a nanomachine solution." He gestured to two pods under the wings. "Wide area, easy to hit."

"The damage in simulations is too small though." Wu continued with a frown. "All the nanomachines I can use with Third Rate tech are too weak to do what we need. The needles apply too little. If we enlarge it too much it causes problems elsewhere."

With a nod Bolt examined the idea. His friends had actually done a decent amount of what he needed. They just needed a bit of a push. He was going to try to merge their philosophies together here and reinforce them rather than use his own style. It would require a lot of care, but he could tell that it would work even now.

"I believe we can fix this together." Bolt began and didn't flinch at the uncertain looks he got in return, but it was close. "I'll be as delicate as I can here. You both take the lead and tell me if you feel any sort of tension. We're going to have you both focus your mental effort on reinforcing the weapon system."

That began a very long process of carefully merging everything together into a cohesive whole and transforming it into something he wanted. Fortunately the process was just tedious, not painful. They had to go over every single bit of the weapon design and change it just a bit together. It took a few days. The work wasn't pleasant. It wasn't unpleasant either. It was probably one of the first times Bolt had been forced to do full calculations and the 'grunt work' so to speak. The aerodynamics of the needles alone were hell to do.

The end result was named the Curse Crow. It was a black bird mech with a set of launchers under the wings. In flight, the launchers could send out needles that would blanket a wide area. On the ground it had a reinforced beak and head to handle attacking if it needed.

Simulations did not paint it as a successful mech. One flyby would probably get only a few needles through a mech's armor, and this was not nearly enough to do any sort of damage. The beak was nice, but a bird on the ground was a target, not a combatant. The spiritual background thrummed though, and Bolt was so certain that he had something that he reserved a mech bay and would personally build it quickly. This mech was going to need some live testing to really work.