[1-200] THE MECH TOUCH

Chapter 138: Freedom Fighter

Vincent Ricklin did not suffer fools gladly. Sadly, encountered many fools in the cause he had shackled to. If the rebel had anything kind to say about the Bentheim Liberation Movement, it was that at least a third of them believed in the cause.

The remainder consisted of a mix between disgruntled pirates looking for a thrill and foreign provocateurs wishing to destabilize the Republic.

He did not have a beef with either of them. Vincent pretty much turned into a pirate himself when he vaporized half the elders of his family. Also, the foreign agents from the Vesia Kingdom and elsewhere generously bankrolled their entire operation.

This meant that Vincent should be able to get along with everyone in the Movement. The reality proved otherwise.

The separatists wanted to fight the Mech Corps directly, which was suicide. No matter how well-funded, a group of rebels could never match up against the might of a proper army.

The pirates wanted to keep hitting soft targets. Their bloodthirsty instincts pushed them to ever-greater acts of **** and pillage, the opposite of how a rebel group ought to behave.

As for the foreign agents, they barely managed to rein in the worst of the group by threatening to cut off the money. For all their smarts and secrets, they barely knew how to

From this motley crew of bandits and rebels, Vincent only trusted his old butler. Johnson stood by his side, armed and armored like he meant it. The former wastrel found Johnson's deathly presence to be an effective deterrent against the more lawless types in the crew.

"When they told me the BLM actually stood a chance of freeing Bentheim from the Republic, I never believed the spy for a second."

His elder butler concurred. "The port system is a strategic asset. If the Bentheim System actually manages cast off the Republic's yoke, the Kingdom will simply step in afterwards."

Thereby adding a third port system to their considerable territory. Such a drastic change fundamentally affected the power balance in the region. The Vesians didn't even have to conquer the rest of the Republic. They could simply starve the remote systems into submission by cutting off access to cheap and convenient trade.

Not that Vincent cared about any sides. He always reminded to himself that he worked for himself. The BLM provided him with an escape route from his slowly worsening status with the Ricklins. Now that they served their purpose, Vincent increasingly inched towards the exit.

Not that General Vasil or Agent Orian ever let him out of their sights. The leader of the resistance movement along with the head liaison from the Vesians both invited Vincent for a meeting. The young man navigated the crudely tunneled corridors of the movement's asteroid base and entered a conference room, or whatever passed as one.

Compared to the stellar interior of the Ricklins, the current room left much to be desired. Empty crates served as their seats while an empty stack of mech-sized magazines acted as their table.

"Can't you whip up something better?" Vincent questioned with an exasperated tone. "We've been staying here for months. You don't even need a printer. Just let one of the boys whip something up with a welder and some scrap."

The great military general of closed his eyes in ecstasy as he injected his veins with a smuggled stimulant. "Our means are not much. This ain't your old daddy's operation where you can shower everyone with money. We are barely keeping up our maintenance."

"Enough. Let's not waste Mr. Ricklin's time." Agent Orian interrupted as he looked up from his work at disassembling a faulty spy drone. "Vincent, we've called you here because we have a major operation in store."