If Ves ignored her giant sword and her exobeast clothes, Mayra looked and spoke no different from a genuine Journeyman Mech Designer. However, Ves simply couldn’t ignore what her veneer of civility covered up. She was not only a daughter of the frontier, she also learned her craft from a mech designer that earned the rare privilege of earning a bounty on his head from the MTA!
A Senior Mech Designer ordinarily wouldn’t be kicked from their membership rolls even if they had some blood on their hands. They were mostly content to leave law enforcement in the hands of the states.
Only a couple of exceptions roused them into action. One of them would be to break one of the taboos. Another one would be to violate the tenets of mech design.
Skull Architect Jimenez was guilty of the latter.
Whatever depraved theory he came up with in his fruitless search for the X-Factor compelled him to make use of human remains.
It would have been one thing if he killed random thugs or slaves from the frontier. The Skull Architect detested lowlives. The personality of a mech was defined by its soul. Embedding the soul of a thug in his mechs would merely drag them down.
Jimenez only wanted the best for his mechs. In that sense, his pursuit for perfection was disturbingly similar to Ves’ insistence for quality.
To the Skull Architect, only the bones of mech pilots qualified as valid raw materials. The better the mech pilot, the better his mechs performed, at least according to his fantasy. His bone-infused products never performed any different to his regular mechs.
He initially began his experiments with utilizing the bones of dead mech pilots that scavengers picked up from long-abandoned battlefields. These bones usually had little value, so it didn’t take much effort for someone like Jimenez to get their hands on them. Sadly, the Skull Architect concluded that rotten bones did not make for good materials.
Only the freshest bones satisfied his cravings!
Mech pilots in the Vermeer Group in the Friday Coalition started to disappear. No one knew where they had wandered off to. However, the kidnappers had been capable enough to clean up their tracks, so the truth behind their disappearances had long been an unsolved mystery.
All of this changed once he crossed the line. Unsatisfied with the results of his experiments up to date, he came to the conclusion that his raw ingredients weren’t good enough.
The souls of basic mech pilots and advanced mech pilots weren’t strong enough to provide any measurable boosts to his mechs. Only expert pilots would do.
One day, a famous expert pilot ended up missing.
The entire Vermeer Group panicked and sprung into action. The disappearance of thousands mech pilots didn’t matter to a behemoth that was one of the principal partners of the Friday Coalition. Yet the disappearance of a single expert pilot was completely different!
With the full investigative might of the Vermeer Group brought to bear, it only took half a day to track down the kidnappers, work their way up to the ones who issued the contract, and from there beat out the name of their client from their mouths.
To their horror, the one who was responsible for kidnapping and ultimately killing their prized demigod was none other than a respected Senior Mech Designer.
It was a wonder he managed to flee the Coalition and stay out of reach from the vengeful hunters of the Mech Trade Association. His depraved experiments defiled the honor of expert pilots and cast a stain upon the profession of mech designers!
The scandal remained a hot topic for weeks in the entire star sector!
To her credit, Mayra didn’t seem offended at the reactions of Ves and the chiefs. If anything, she took it as a badge of honor. "My mentor is extremely dangerous. He has to be in order to survive in the frontier."
"What kind of status does he enjoy in the frontier?" Ves asked.
The Skull Architect had dropped out of the news ever since he fled from civilized space. Heck, many people thought he was dead!
"My mentor is one of the main shareholders of Malligan’s Pitstop, a medium-sized independent pirate station. His mech industry is based there. Mechs sold from the station carries his personal guarantee. His word is as good as certification from the MTA."
"Ah." Ves understood. "There’s no oversight from the MTA beyond civilized space."
In civilized space, mech designers and purchasers of mechs relied on the MTA’s long-standing system of validating mech designs and certifying every mech that rolled off the production lines. Ves had taken this reliable system for granted. He had never thought of a time where he wouldn’t be able to rely on those services.
The scams taking place in the underground markets of Harkensen III had already given him a taste of how difficult it was to do business without a neutral arbiter. The only way a layman could purchase a reliable product that performed as advertised was to hire a mech appraiser.
The problem that came with this choice was that there was little anyone could do if a mech appraiser was biased. During his previous strolls in the grey and black markets, Ves witnessed the appraisers discretely favoring one stall owner’s products of another. Who could say if the mech appraiser hadn’t already been bought by the stall owners?
"I gather you play a very important role with the Swordmaidens. It’s different here. Many smaller mercenary corps and other outfits can do just fine without a mech designer on retainer. They can largely trust what they buy from the market."
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