The Mech Touch novel Chapter 1331

The Barracuda, accompanied by the ships of the Battle Criers, briskly crossed the stars in the next couple of weeks.

The small fleet left the territories of the Kinner Tribe without fanfare and cut through the numerous other states that led to their next stop, the Chuko Republic.

Though Gavin continually hinted that they’d be better off making a wide circle around the problematic state, Ves resolutely stuck to his choice.

"It’s just a couple of isolated incidents, Benny. You’re far too much of a worrywart. The odds of encountering raiders is exceedingly small." Ves calmly replied as he scratched Lucky’s chin.

"That does not make our journey any less dangerous! Recently, there have been stories about convoys being waylaid by well-armed raiding forces! The attacks all took place on the major trading lanes as well!"

"Those attacks made sense because those ships were carrying valuable trade goods. Please recall our fleet composition. Does the tiny Barracuda and the shabby and skinny vessels of the Battle Criers look like we’re carrying any valuables?"

"Uhh.. "

"Exactly! Our cargo capacity is pathetic compared to conventional trade convoys! Any decent pirate with a miniscule brain could figure out that the Ion Tracker and the Glaze Hopper, our largest vessels, have devoted most of their capacities to carrying mechs! As for the Purple Star, Belfast and Okuri, the three support ships are so small that it’s incredibly obvious that they are only carrying low-value supplies!"

"You’re worth something, boss. The market price for a captured Journeyman Mech Designer is enough to make an entire pirate gang set for life! Heck, even the Barracuda herself is worth a great fortune if she’s captured intact!"

"..That’s true." Ves admitted. "Yet they’ll have to get to us first. Our fleet is much more mobile than a typical trading convoy. None of our ships are floating tubs who require half a day to finish cycling their FTL drives. If we happen to stumble in an awful situation, the Barracuda can jump into FTL ahead of time, thereby depriving the raiders a reason to keep fighting against the Battle Criers."

He already thought about every likely scenario that might pop up during their entry into Chuko space. Even if the state degenerated into a microcosm of the frontier, Ves still expressed confidence that most of the belligerents involved would rather turn their against each other. There was no benefit to assailing a random bystander like him who was just passing through the state!

After packing off Gavin and his concerns for the day, Ves still had to spend some time with the other guests on his ship. He checked in with Nitaa and Crindon who were off performing their duties. Nothing much had changed on their end so the conversations remained brief.

Only then did Ves divert his attention to the more problematic guests aboard the Barracuda. Ves held Lucky in his arms as he entered the ship’s lounge.

"Well. I thought I might find you two here." He spoke upon entry.

Imon and Casella Ingvar still dressed themselves in their impeccably sharp household guard uniform. It was as if they still clung to the illusion that House Ingvar still stood proud.

"Mr. Larkinson.""Mr. Larkinson."

"Have you moped enough yet?" He spoke. "I’m not paying you to act like passengers. I’m paying you to pilot mechs."

"We’ve been keeping our skills sharp by practicing in the simulators!" Casella protested. _{fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm}

Ves slammed his fist against his palm. "You’re not doing your jobs! Even if we aren’t forced into battle, there are plenty of responsibilities that mech pilots ought to fulfill. You used to be the commander of your household mech company, so you should know them very well, Casella!"

"We can’t! Those uncouth Battle Criers disgust me! They disgust us both!"

"Imon Ingvar, are you a mercenary or are you a noble?"

His question cut deep. Both Ingvar siblings became downtrodden all of a sudden. They tried to reject the reality as long as possible, but they were simply staving off the inevitable.

"Look, regardless of your dark and dreary pasts, you are working for someone now. You may think little of the Battle Criers, but the Kinner mercenary corps has dutifully deployed patrols whenever our fleet arrives at a new star system. They’ve been keeping all of us secure without any of the whining that you exhibit. Tell me, please. Between the Battle Criers and you two, who has been productive and who has acted like lazy bums?"

The Ingvars looked more and more depressed as their employer confronted them directly on their lack of work ethic.

While Ves had been more than understanding of their personal circumstances, at some point they just had to pick themselves up and move on with their lives. He didn’t hesitate to bring out his inner Devil Tongue in order to give the pair a good kick in the butt.

"He’s right." Casella spoke. She had always been the more rational and calm-headed of the pair. "We are not doing ourselves and our employer a favor by avoiding the Battle Criers."

"But Casella! Those unwashed brutes are completely incapable of acting with decorum! They smell! They laugh! They get drunk whenever they aren’t at their posts!"

"At the very least they refrain from intoxicating themselves while they are on duty." She replied.

Ves scoffed. "The first steps you need to take is recognize the reality of your new status. From the way I hear you talk, you still turn up your noses whenever you think of the Battle Criers. Are you really better than them now that you are fellow mercenaries? In fact, the Battle Criers are more than justified to laugh and turn up their noses at you! The reason why those Kinners mock you is that you act like you’re better than them while you are technically their juniors in the mercenary community!"

Again, Ves landed another fatal blow at their fragile prides. To their credit, Casella Ingvar managed to accept the reality of their situation a lot better than he expected.

It seemed that her previous leadership failure in allowing her former household guard company to mutiny humbled her deeply. After suffering such a grievous blow to her self-inflated sense of worth, how could she still pretend that she was still hot stuff?