The Mech Touch novel Chapter 45

If anyone first heard the words Mech Trade Association, they’d assume it was a nonprofit trade organization. They weren’t wrong, but it deeply understates what a massive influence the trans-galactic behemoth exerted in every corner of human space. They regulated the development, licensing, production, sale and disposal of mechs. Pretty much the entire life-cycle of a mech was in their purview, and they sometimes came to blows in order to enforce their self-proclaimed rights.

Even a small, tranquil planet like Cloudy Curtain possessed a local branch of the MTA. As even the Greater United Terran Confederation and the New Rubarth Empire acknowledged the powerful organization’s supervisory powers, a small third-rate state like the Bright Republic had nothing to say about the MTA’s forceful presence within its borders.

The association founded branches wherever there was a sizable population of people. Lots of people meant that at least a handful of them piloted mechs. If left alone, they could get up to trouble, so the MTA always made it a policy to supervise potentates even if they didn’t own a mech.

Frankly, the idea that an organisation outside the control of any government entity was allowed to meddle in the mech industry shouldn’t have existed. Countless conspiracy theories flew around in the galactic net that purported to be the truth.

One popular notion suggested that the divisions in human space was all a sham. Every nation, from the lowest third-rate backwater to the grandest first-rate superpower, were actually different branches from the same tree. A so-called Shadow Council ruled humanity from behind the throne, and the MTA was merely its most visible arm.

Another less radical theory suggested that the MTA was not as independent as everyone thought. Instead, it began as a secret joint venture by both the Terrans and the Rubarthans. Despite their intense rivalry towards each other, they shared enough common interests to regulate the mech industry and founded the MTA to bend the military strength of other nations to their will.

The MTA’s existence and its stringent enforcement of its principles brought the wild west of the mech trade to its heel. They prevented the incorporation of weapons of mass destruction into the arsenal of mechs. They curbed widespread corporate espionage and gave smaller mech businesses a chance to thrive by encouraging the practice of licensing out non-cutting edge designs. They brought so many benefits that not many people thought badly of the organisation.

What mattered the most to Ves right now was the MTA’s strict standards of public mech sales. Any mech traded in an open transaction was required to be certified by the MTA before they received a stamp of approval. Without this approval, a mech designer was deprived of an independent, trustworthy assessment of their product, which meant that basically no one dared to buy his mech.

Naturally, such a practice was voluntary, and companies were free to sell their mechs without involving the MTA if they made their transactions private. This most often happened with nextgen cutting-edge designs between top enterprises and government entities. Ves was too small a player to engage in such a high-level transaction, so he meekly submitted his mech to the MTA for their standard certification.

Bringing Lucky over his shoulder, Ves exited the transit shuttle and landed his feet onto the paved landing pad next to the MTA. He met the local supervisor of Cloudy Curtain’s branch of the association at the steps leading up to the complex.

"Ves Larkinson."

"Ryan Baldwin." A dark-skinned man with a robust posture returned his handshake. "Welcome to the MTA. When I heard a designer wanted to submit a newly fabricated mech in our branch, I had to admit we were at a loss for a moment."

Ves chuckled amiably at the remark. "I’m the only mech manufacturer on this planet, right?"

"Yup. The most we do is bust heads and lend a hand against pirates. We hardly have any mech technicians on site that are qualified to certify your mech."

"My apologies for inconveniencing you. Can the certification process still proceed? I’m kind of pressed for time."

"No worries, son. As long as we’re not in the middle of nowhere, we always have a senior technician on hand."

They entered the quiet and spacious building complex and went down the halls to a large workshop area. A cranky-looking middle-aged lady in coveralls greeted them with a stinky eye.

"Ves, let me introduce you to Gertrude Samuelson."

The woman in question crossed her arms. "So you’re the brat messing up my maintenance schedule. I had a system in place, you know. Now I have to waste precious hours off my schedule in order to knock your little toy around. Well, you better not think it’s a done deal, because I’ll be doing my best to dig up its flaws!"

He could only smile awkwardly at that. Fortunately, Ves spent an excessive amount of time building up the Phoenix Cry. He was confident his mech could pass all but the most stringent of tests. Those top-level tests would never be applied to a regular commercial mech, so Ves should be in the clear. He hoped.

The three entered the cavernous workshop where a handful of mechs underwent routine maintenance. At the end of the stables rested the Phoenix Cry, freshly transported from his workshop. A couple of junior technicians already crawled around its chassis with several handheld instruments.

"Seeing as you’re as young as shit, this must be your first certification, right?"

"Yes, but I’m familiar with the steps."

"Good, then you know that you’ll just have to stand there and do squat while I pick apart its flaws." Gertrude stated as she stepped behind a console and activated a thick, mechanical arm.

Ves recognized the device as an advanced sensor that was capable of penetrating through almost any material. The woman gently operated the arm and brought it over to the bottom foot of the mech. The projection in front of her changed into a cutout image of the section along with multiple technical readouts that Ves barely understood.

"Hm, looks fine so far. You haven’t screwed up the proportions when you made the HRF armor plating. Lots of newbies trip themselves over when they work with such a highly refined material. A deviance of 0.1% at the start could get amplified by as much as 10% by the time the HRF is off the fabricators."

"I didn’t rush the process. I’m confident the rest of my mech is equally as sturdy."

"We’ll see about that."

Gertrude diligently scanned over the mech, from bottom to top and back to bottom. She also swiveled the sensor from the sides and the rear of the mech as well, but to no avail. Ves understood enough from the readouts that none of the armor or internal components showed any significant deviations from the blueprint. All of the flaws she detected so far was within tolerance according to the MTA’s official guidelines. Only the most nitpicky of technicians would choose to make an issue out of those tiny problems.

To her credit, Getrude said nothing even if her frown grew deeper. "Well, let’s see if your internals perform as advertised."

This was an area Ves was less confident in. It was fairly easy to spot damage, but harder to determine if the components he fabricated performed on spec. As the technicians crawled away from the chassis, a young pilot entered the cockpit. Ves, Ryan and Gertrude watched at a healthy distance as the pilot activated the mech.

"The neural interface is starting up without a hitch. No issues encountered so far." The pilot reported, and Getrude confirmed his observations through the readings that scrolled down her terminal.

"Startup finished. The mech is in standby mode. The power reactor is spinning. No leaks detected. Temperature is normal."

"Do you hear any weird noises?"

"It’s quiet so far. Want me to engage the engines?"

"Hold up, I still want to test out its power management. Go run some power through the wrist-mounted laser cannons. Charge up its capacitors. Make sure the weapons remain safed before you do that though."

Ves watched on with Lucky as they both witnesses Getrude trying to dig up faults. No matter how much she stressed the power system, she failed to make the mech squeal. Ves increasingly grinned wider as he realized he had nothing to fear in this aspect. His mech was mechanically sound.