[401-600] THE MECH'S TOUCH

Chapter 409: Military-Industrial Complex

On the day the LMC unveiled the Crystal Lord design, the tense situation in the Coscos System cast a shadow over Bentheim. Underneath the grey, overcast streets of Dorum, fewer people walked by as everyone worried about their jobs, their safety, and whether the Republic could repel the Vesians yet again.

Ves looked down on the streets from Marcella's office.

"The public is getting more uncertain these days." He spoke. "The Bright Republic fought against the Vesia Kingdom for how many times? And never have we succumbed to their onslaught."

"There's always a fluke. The Vesians might have called up an ally, or the Mech Corps may have screwed up at some point. You know the Vesian nobles keep trying to invade the Republic because they hope they'll eventually get it right and blow past our defenses."

That was the awful thing about living in a state entangled in a generational war. The only reason why the Vesians haven't permanently instituted a state of war against the Brighters was because they didn't have the resources to sustain their aggression.

"Did you fight in the previous war?" Ves suddenly asked. "You obviously haven't started out as a mech broker."

The woman shrugged. She softly caressed her artificial limb. "I took part in the previous war, aye. It's not a pleasant experience and I don't really want to talk about it. I was too young back then. Young and stupid. I still needed five more years to graduate from the mech academy, but the Republic instituted accelerated training programs that attempted to cram everything we needed to learn into a span of only two years."

Ves understood. When the war dragged on and pilots began to grow scarce, the Republic tended to scrape up the young and the old.

These days, it took eight years to turn a fresh potentate into a barebones mech pilot, but they could barely pilot an industrial mech in the basic academies.

In order to gain more advanced fighting skills, the mech cadets also needed to spend some years at an advanced academy. The most well-rounded programs often ran for six years. Therefore, the best and most qualified graduates spent at least fourteen precious years in the academies.

They not only learned how to pilot a mech, but also how to work as a team and how to kill an enemy mech. At the advanced academies, they stopped learning the basics of each mech archetype but chose to specialize in a single role to their utmost.

Practically every state in the human-dominated parts of the galaxy adopted this mech training model. It originated from the galactic center where first-class mechs would also be extremely complex to pilot, but it spread out to the rest of the galaxy as academies in poorer star sectors lacked the resources to provide effective teaching.

Marcella continued her story. "In truth, I only experienced the end of the last war. They put a handful of prematurely graduated mech pilots like me into battle-scarred units where the only mech pilots who survived are those who are the toughest and most resilient men and women I have ever met."

"Did you enjoy your time with them?"

"I sure did. Most of my friendships today can be traced back to my service time. Those who survived formed a bond. We fought and watched each other's back even as missiles rained down on us and took out a hapless colleague. They taught us not to blink and keep on marching forward."

"Your luck must have ran out at some point."

"Yup. It happens to the best of us. The war began to wind down at that stage. The planet we fought over was bombed to hell and back. There was hardly any area in sight where the soil hasn't been disturbed by passing mechs or spent ordnance. Just when I thought I could make it through the end, the Vesians pulled off their final offenses. I barely got into the cockpit of my mech before a surprise attack punched right through the chest of my machine. That was the closest to death I've ever been."