[1-200] THE MECH TOUCH

Chapter 184: Handover

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.