The Mech Touch novel Chapter 135

Colonel Ares Huntington was an old friend of Marcella Bollinger. They came from the same crowd, and while a war wound forcibly put an end to her piloting career, Ares hung on for twenty more years until his age caught up. Nowadays he fought behind a desk.

"You’ve got them wrapped around your finger." Ares casually spoke to Marcella.

They both stood on a ramp overlooking an empty training ground. A handful of men waited their turn to pilot the Marc Antony Mark II. A couple of other guests impatiently hopped in the simulator pods in order to experience the virtual version of the novel mech.

It couldn’t be helped. The first unveiling of the Mark II proceeded in a dramatic fashion as Marcella brought the guests inside a darkened stable and slowly revealed the mech. Its iconic red vapor crest lighted up first. Other lights revealed its masculine contours which included its heavy shield and its shoulder launchers.

Marcella knew her crowd. The Mark II explicitly appealed to the primal part of a human male. Most of her guests were men. The only women present either specialized in piloting knights or represented wealthy individuals who couldn’t come in person.

"Ves has come a long way." Marcella said to her old friend. "I always knew the Larkinson family had a talent with mechs. Even if Ves lacked the aptitude, the love for mechs is buried within his bones."

Ares snorted at Marcella’s fawning tone. "Don’t pretend you spotted his talent back then. The Larkinson name is overrated. You merely took him on as a client because he got bamboozled into signing that ridiculous ten-year contract."

"Heh, you’re only grumbling because Ark Larkinson stole your posting. Now he’s stationed at the border to the Vesians while you are stuck reading data pads in Bentheim."

"He’s too young to command an entire base! I don’t care if he’s been promoted to colonel, he doesn’t have the experience to lead the vanguard!"

The incident still rankled Ares. He possessed all the right qualifications to be stationed at an important conflict zone, but some golden boy a dozen years short his age snatched his promised posting. Technically, Ares received a higher-ranking posting, but for a veteran of the previous Bright-Vesia War it might as well be death by torture.

Marcella shook her head while rubbing her camouflaged artificial limbs. "You’re always chomping at the bit to smash their noses. I bet HQ passed you on because you’re a little too eager to start the war early."

"I’m a professional! I don’t let my personal feelings get in the way of duty."

The argument went nowhere so Marcella shut her mouth. Instead, both of them watched the lumbering Mark II navigate the obstacle course and defeat a handful of flimsy projections of mechs.

"So what do you think about little Vessie’s latest work?"

The colonel scratched his white-bearded chin as he evaluated the performance of the mech. "There’s something funny about this model. I can’t quite tell what’s going on. Whatever it is, it made your guests turn into instant fans."

The mech broker cleverly prefaced the first ten minutes of the gathering with teases and snippets of simulated combat footage. They all highlighted the as-of-yet unannounced mech in its best light. The heavy tower shield, the versatile missile launchers, the deadly short-ranged laser cannons, they all combined to present an image of indomitability in the face of overwhelming forces.

Of course, Marcella conveniently left out the Mark II’s less than flattering features, such as its mass production quality armor system and its flash-in-the-pan endurance.

"If you want to know what’s special about the Mark II, then go watch the duels over there."

The projections that showed the virtual Mark II’s in action conveyed every duel and battle scenario in visceral detail.

At one side, a pair of Mark II’s stood side-by-side leading the charge against an enemy fortified position. The hybrid knights used their heavy shields as disposable cover, trading protection for distance. Their shoulder launchers occasionally fired missiles that exploded in a cloud of smoke and sensor-blocking particles.

Another projection displayed a tense and even duel. A blue-striped Mark II tried to run circles around a green-striped Mark II and fired back with its wrist lasers. The defending mech easily blocked them with its shield and retaliated by firing a full salvo of homing missiles.

While the other mech defended against the sudden barrage, the green-striped mech closed the distance and bashed its shield against its counterpart. The sudden disruption of balance left the blue-striped mech vulnerable to an incoming chop. The lack of momentum caused the sword to leave only a shallow wound that hardly impacted the stricken mech’s performance.

The anticipation grew among those who waited their turns. While they had all seen better mechs, most of them came with exorbitant price tags.

"This baby is more responsive than the Caesar Augustus!"

"That’s natural. The CA-1 is two decades old."

"As long as the price is right, I don’t mind ordering one for my son. It’s a great mech for the younger generation to let out some steam."

"Careful with that. The armor of this variant is not as good as the original model. At least the cockpit’s ejection system is still just as good."

Marcella didn’t even had to steer the conversation directly. Her usual style of setting props to influence the mood generated an organic discussion about the Mark II’s many merits.

She turned to the only guest who hadn’t become entranced. "So, will you consider purchasing a model or two?" _{ƒreewebηoveℓ.com}

"Not a chance!" Ares huffed. "The Larkinson boy is too wet behind the ears to design a mech that can withstand the rigors of a genuine war. The only reason I’m here is because I’m assigned to the Domestic Designer Support Program."