The Mech Touch novel Chapter 184

The revolt spearheaded by Keller cleverly pitted the fate of the expedition against the freedom and safety of a hired mech designer.

Commander Tregis could do nothing but glower and watch on from his personal mech. Though the mechs that answered to his call could match the rebels in numbers, he hesitated to engage in a senseless battle that could only result in mutual annihilation.

As a trusted subordinate of Lord Kaine, he knew he had to prioritize the harvesting operation over anything else. Nevertheless, he felt he couldn’t let the mercs tear down the social contract they had with House Kaine.

Even if he didn’t like it, Ves understood what Commander Tregis had to go through. In order to prevent the situation from spinning out of control, he allowed the revolters to take him into custody without a fuss.

A handful of footsoldiers in the employ of the mercs came close and pushed Melkor and the rest aside. They prepared a bulky set of cuffs designed to restrain the hazard suit that Ves currently wore. Without even checking for any weapons, they slapped it on his wrists.

"That will keep you in place." One of the mercs smiled cheekily.

The mercs hauled him out of the workshop and dumped him into a beaten-up shuttle. The craft clearly had seen better days. Ves could spot the tell-tale signs of hexabat claws and fangs scarring its hull.

"Get in there!"

They threw him into the empty passenger compartment of the tiny shuttle. Ves tried to get comfortable as the shuttle started to ascend. Unfortunately, the pilot blanked out the windows, preventing him from looking out.

After a couple of minutes of wondering what to do, a small projection came to life. Keller’s face leered at him from the cockpit of his mech. Unlike his usual controlled expression, this time he completely revealed his nefarious intentions.

"Commander Keller."

"Ah, the smart little Brighter." He spoke, drawing out his voice at the mention of his nationality. "You Brighters always think you’re smarter than anyone else.

Ves didn’t give the Vesian the satisfaction of seeing him beg and plead for his life. "You are making a very big mistake here. Doctor Jutland isn’t your friend, or anyone’s for that matter. He’ll never honor whatever deal you made with him."

"Hah! As if it matters!" Keller laughed. "The good doctor can’t do anything once we return to space at the end of our forty-day stay. Last I knew, dinosaurs can’t fly. I’ll be eagerly leaving this ratty planet and the crazy doctor behind.Getting rid of a Brighter mech designer along the way will earn me enough merit to earn my knighthood!"

"You Vesians chase after nobility as if it’s something attainable. It’s just a carrot your slave drivers dangle in front of your heads. No matter how hard you work, the carrot will always be out of your reach."

"You lie! You understand nothing!"

"I’m sure they won’t welcome you back in open arms. After all, you clearly mutinied against your client when you signed a mercenary contract with them. As far as I recall, most of those contracts are filled with clauses that will make your life very short once you cross a few lines."

In today’s society, mercenaries were plentiful, but the means to control them had also evolved. Mercenaries generally didn’t possess the same loyalty and dying devotion of a warrior nurtured by the clients themselves. Too often news came back that revealed that the mercs abandoned their cushy assignments as soon as they encountered a spot of trouble.

In order to bring some order to the chaos, some enterprising organizations formed a trans-galactic Mercenary Association to regulate this blooming business. Though the Mercenary Association lacked the enforcement power of the Mech Trade Association and the Common Fleet Alliance, they were nevertheless the only game in town.

Earning a bad mark on your record in the Mercenary Association often spelled a dead end to your career as a reputable mercenaries. Those with negative records often retired in ignomy or resorted to taking shadier jobs that hadn’t been regulated by the Mercenary Association. People usually called them dark mercenaries, and were often regarded as one step away from pirates.

Keller snorted at Ves. "Once I earn my knighthood, I can leave my mercenary days behind me. My boys and I will be able to retire to a quiet mansion on a rural planet in the Kingdom until we’re called back to fight a war."

The man had a decent plan. Depending on how much Vesia valued his head, eliminating him could indeed earn Keller enough kudos to propel him into the lowest level of nobility. By then, what did a negative mercenary record matter?

The mercenary commander gloated some more before he shut off the channel. Ves sighed in frustration as he looked down at his shackles. The mercenaries never regarded Ves as a threat, and didn’t even pat him properly for weapons.

Outwardly, he only wore a tool belt around his hazard suit. He didn’t carry any holstered weapons because they’d be worse than useless against the native life forms on this planet.

"Turns out I’ve been watching out for the wrong threat." He sighed.

He learned a very painful lesson today. Ves had never considered the mercenaries to go out of control in such a dramatic fashion. He continually relied on the iron grip of his client to keep the rowdy men and women in line. Today’s event proved that the iron grip was as soft as a pillow.

Well, no use recriminating himself. Ves regained his composure and started to take stock of his gear. First, he still wore his hazard suit. The suit’s heads-up display showed that he still had over seven days of oxygen.

After that, he’d get into a lot of trouble, because the air on Groening IV contained plenty of junk but precious little oxygen. The exobiologists discovered that some of the plant life emitted oxygen, but most of the other plants seemed to thrive on a very different cycle. Ves would slowly suffocate at that time if he couldn’t get any replenishment from his captor.

Second, he had his shield generator with eighty percent charge remaining. This might save him from a couple of fatal blows, but Ves had no illusion that it would last very long against a raging Kaius.

Though a shield generator looked conspicuous, he hoped that Jutland wouldn’t notice. As long as the doctor didn’t frisk him or force him to take off his hazard suit, Ves was sure he’d be able to keep its presence a secret.