[1-200] THE MECH TOUCH

Chapter 9: Psst. Wanna buy a mech?

After a hearty talk, Melinda had to leave in order to catch her flight back to Bentheim. As Ves accompanied her to the door, she turned around and bumped her communicator with his wrist.

"What's this?" Ves asked as he activated his comm. It unfolded into a brochure.

"It's the Young Tigers Exhibition."

"Isn't it a competition for younger mech pilots to showcase their skills? I hear the Mech Corps and the local mercenary corps organize this event to recruit outstanding pilots."

The Bright Republic publicized the YTE every year. It had practically turned into a national holiday. His father even brought him to an event when he was little. Before he found out his aptitude made piloting mechs an unreachable dream.

"That was ten years ago." Melinda said and reached over and tapped the brochure, flipping it over to the next page. "In recent years they expanded the program to include a mech designer contest. It's not as thrilling as the mech battles, but the Mech Corps and a few big players pay a lot of attention to the people who do well in the contest."

"I see." Ves nodded as he read through the brochure. "It's conveniently open to mech designers who have just graduated or are in their final years in college. I guess the Republic wants to make sure it hasn't missed any talents."

"You should check out the rewards."

Ves did, and widened his eyes.

1st Prize - Gold Cup, 1 million bright credits

2nd Prize - Silver Cup, 500,000 bright credits

3rd Prize - Bronze Cup, 200,000 bright credits

If he won first prize, then even if he couldn't meet the interest payment, he could at least afford other necessities. The raw materials to build up a mech didn't come cheap.

"These aren't even the real rewards, Ves. If you stand out during the competition, you might be able to get an audience with the real movers and shakers of the mech business. You can get job offers and commissions if they like your style."

Ves smiled ruefully when he heard those words. "The bigwigs probably aren't interested in a small businessman like me. I'm not one of those geniuses with fancy degrees from Mars or Estelon."

Mars was the technological capital of the Greater United Terran Confederation, the oldest and most prestigious human superpower. Estelon was a hub of high tech mech companies and stellar universities of the New Rubarth Empire, the most militarily dominant human state.

"Most of those geniuses already have their future careers lined up, probably with one of the Galactic 500." Melinda responded with a scowl. "When they come back to visit sometimes, I sometimes wonder if I'm talking to a Terran or Rubarthan. It's like they forgot their roots."

"The Republic is a third-tier power, after all." Ves lamented, not entirely sincerely. He loved his home country and its high living standards. There were benefits to loving in a peaceful backwater. "Our nextgen mechs are probably considered lastgen by the first-tier superpowers."

Those destined for greatness couldn't be contained by the small Bright Republic. Ves knew it was no use to feel jealous about those endowed with great opportunities. It all came down to strength! If Ves failed to win the first prize, then he just wasn't cut out for it. With the System backing him up, he might not excel in anything now, but it could be a different story a decade later.

He waved his cousin goodbye and returned to his terminal. He re-read the brochure for the YTE and registered for the competition after making sure he met all the requirements.