The Mech Touch

The time had come. Almost four hours had gone by. At this time, the two opposing fleets had drawn very close to each other.

The smaller Umbra Task Force doggedly chased after the considerably larger fleet of the Golden Skull Alliance with the help of its faster and purpose-built carriers. Even though the Fridaymen, Praetor and Planat engineers pushed their respective vessels beyond their recommended parameters, none of them showed any restraint.

The condition of the engines, thrusters and many other propulsion systems degraded rapidly as the attackers sought to catch up to their targets as fast as possible!

The Larkinsons and their allies did not choose to shirk this battle. They still held hope for victory despite knowing that their overall strength fell short compared to the enemy.

In their eyes, it was not yet time to cut off the rest of the fleet and take their capital ships away. While it sounded tempting to flee and preserve as many lives as possible, the expeditionary fleet would have to leave behind much of its assets, thereby putting it into an even weaker position if the enemy strike force ever caught up again!

The Larkinsons, Glory Seekers and Crossers knew quite well that this was the best shot they had of overturning the enemy. They had to fight right away if they did not wish to resign themselves to months of desperate flight!

Ves and Lucky briefly reunited with Gloriana and Clixie on the bridge of the Spirit of Bentheim.

Everyone wore protective suits or armor without exception. Safety was paramount and even the extensive protective measures on the bridge could not guarantee anyone's life if a direct attack pierced all the way through the factory ship.

While Ves looked valiant in his Unending Regalia, his wife wore fashionable protective armor that was covered with hundreds of purple hexagons.

"Meow." Lucky poked at Clixie's suited form.

"Miaow."

Even pets were not exempted! Clixie along with every other critter in the fleet wore some kind of suit that was able to supply them with air and protected them from various hazards.

While the cats were exploring each other's suits, Ves opened his faceplate and leaned in to kiss Gloriana's uncovered lips.

"We'll make it through this battle." He softly whispered.

"I believe you." She said although her eyes betrayed her fear.

Ves gently held her by her armored hips. "Be brave, honey. You're not just a mech designer now. You're my wife, a lead designer and a symbol to our clansmen. It's normal to be afraid, but in times like these, you need to step up and lead by example."

"I'll try my best, but I'm not used to being so close to danger. This is only the second time in my life that I am looking down the barrel of someone's gun!"

Her nerves were shaking. She wasn't coping too well with the current situation. Hardly any of her Hexer determination was on display this time.

At the eve of battle, Gloriana had been reduced to a civilian, someone who had never been forged in the fires of battle!

Ves did not look down on her because of that. She enjoyed a different upbringing than him and followed a very different career trajectory. In fact, she was much more reflective of how a mech designer was expected to behave.

Still, his earlier words also rang true. If Gloriana wanted to become a leading figure in the clan, she needed to walk the walk. How could she earn any respect from the Larkinsons if she continued to act as a negative example?

His eyes hardened a little. "You can't show any doubt in a combat situation. Information must be conveyed and orders must be implemented as quickly and precisely as possible. Any chaos or interference can lead to deadly results. Fear is infectious. If you cannot present a brave front, the surrounding Larkinsons might become affected, thereby causing them to respond slower than normal. What if your actions lead to the death of your brother?"

That final part caused Gloriana to widen her eyes. She might not care too much about the life of a random Larkinson, but she would never forgive herself if she dragged the heels of her closest relative!

"I understand." She spoke, this time with much more conviction than before. "I will do my best to lead our assistant mech designers in analyzing the weak points of the enemy mechs."

"We will all be counting on you." Ves smiled.

This was the most suitable role for Gloriana. As someone who was extremely sensitive to flaws in mech designs, she was much more efficient at discovering the shortcomings of any mech.

"Do note that our effectiveness is heavily dependent on the quantity, quality and depth of data we receive." She reminded him. "We can't make any detailed studies on the structural flaws of a mech if all we get is snapshots and garbled noise."

"That won't be a concern. You'll get your data, one way or another. Don't forget to coordinate with Professor Cortez. He's a very experienced Senior who probably knows a thing or two about Fridayman mechs."

One of the more obscure advantages of the expeditionary fleet was the large number of mech designers riding along.

The low low-ranking mech designers in the Design Department and assigned to maintenance crews were all capable of performing a lot of labor-intensive analyses.

The high-ranking mech designers in the form of Ves, Gloriana, Juliet and the former Skull Architect could utilize their profound insights to detect tiny flaws and weak points that others might miss.

As long as all of these mech designers could be put to use, the defenders would be able to gain another edge in the coming battle!

Ves bet that the enemy fleet did not enjoy the same advantage. It was incredibly stupid to assign so many precious mech designers to a strike force tasked with performing a high-risk mission.

Of course, it was not as if the enemy necessarily needed this edge. The base performance of all of their mechs was already high enough to achieve victory by relying on brute force.

Once Gloriana took her place behind one of the bridge consoles, Ves took the Larkinson Mandate from Nitaa and approached a central position on the bridge.

He quietly waited until the time had come to rouse his men.

Every Larkinson fell silent and paid attention to their leader. Those on the bridge turned their chairs around to face him, while the Larkinsons stationed elsewhere all tuned in to the broadcast spread throughout the ships and mechs of the Larkinson Clan.

At this time, Colonel Ariadne Wodin and Lord Reginald Cross must be holding speeches in front of their troops.

"My fellow Larkinsons." Ves began as he faced the front, knowing that his visage would be transmitted to tens of thousands of Larkinsons at a time. "We stand in front of a deadly precipice. The enmity between our clan and the Friday Coalition has come to head. Our old enemies are not content to let us go. They mustered up their precious deep strike fleet carriers and filled them up with some of their elites to achieve a single purpose. Destroy the Larkinson Clan."

This was a rather questionable claim. Ves knew very well that the primary reason the Fridaymen went through all of this trouble was to target him specifically. However, he wasn't about to point that out. He didn't want to give his clan any ideas.

His face grew grim. "We face a hard battle. The enemy mechs are powerful and their mech pilots are highly-trained. The firepower they are about to bring to bear will shake our vessels and shatter our mechs. You can bet that the Fridaymen and their Garlaner allies will do their utmost to shake our reserve and overwhelm us with their aggressive momentum."

He suddenly raised the Larkinson Mandate above his head! The eye-catching medallion of the Golden Cat glinted in the light!

"They have chosen the wrong target! Inferior our mechs may be, our hearts and courage are far greater than what our scheming ambushers can ever comprehend!"

Under the watchful eyes of the Golden Cat, the Larkinsons found their courage and pushed away their doubts!

"We have fought several formidable enemies in the past." Ves reminded everyone as he lowered the ancestral heirloom. He tapped its front cover with one of his armored fingers. "The Friday Coalition attempted to bring us down before. Successive pirate groups attempted to stand in our way. None have succeeded! Neither second-class mechs nor a fully-functional heavy cruiser managed to bring us down. Even gods have failed to shake our foundation!"

Only the veterans of the Nyxian Gap Campaign understood the last point. Everyone else just treated it as hyperbole.

Exaggeration or not, the boastful claim drew out the pride that had been carved in the bones of every Larkinson. Their clan had already been forged in the fires of battle. They just needed a little reminder for them to recall their own capital for success!

"With our glows, expert pilots and other secret weapons, we can teach the Fridaymen and the rest of human space a new way of waging battle! As innovators, we have developed brand-new methods and products that no other mech force has ever seen. Our mech pilots have the latest and greatest tools and weapons that we have been able to supply them with. With the advantages that only we possess, we can overwhelm our unsuspecting opponents through guile and strategy!"

Ves conveyed a message of hope and victory with his words. He did not deny the strength of the enemy, but he painted them as ignorant brutes. As long as the Larkinsons outwitted and outmaneuvered them, they had a very good chance of coming out on top in the coming engagement!

Ves smiled at his audience. "Life is precious to us. As Larkinsons, we do not like to harvest the lives of others. That does not mean we are herbivores. If anyone approaches us with ill intent, we will defend ourselves and our fellow clansmen because that is who we are. As long as we pass this test, our clan will have truly earned the right to roam the stars. Are you scared?"

"NO!"

"Are you willing to let the enemy ruin your dreams?"

"NO!"

"Are you willing to let your families get slain?"

"NO!"

"Are you willing to let the Fridaymen defeat us in battle!"

"NOOOO!"

"Then what are you waiting for? Take up your arms and prepare to welcome our approaching foes. Let us split their bodies until the space lanes run red with rivers of blood! FOR THE CLAN!"

"FOR THE CLAN!" His Larkinsons universally echoed!

"Meow!" "Miaow!" "Nyeow!" "Woof!" "Chirp!"

Even their pets chimed in! If not for their inability to reach the enemy, they would have been eager to tear into the enemies that sought to kill their human companions!

Upon a certain command, the expeditionary fleet no longer oriented their starships away from the pursuing enemies.

It was a bad idea to expose their vulnerable rear to enemy firepower. Every single ship turned around until their bows faced the direction of the incoming threat.

Due to Newton's first law of motion, the ships didn't suddenly travel in a different direction. They continued to coast along their original trajectory. In other words, the vessels were flying in reverse, at least until they accelerated in a different direction.

The bow of the Spirit of Bentheim was the most prominent of all of the ships in the combined fleet. The majestic golden cat head that adorned the front of the ship seemed to taunt the distant enemies.

Immediately, a score of glowing positron beams struck the prow! The Breyer alloy on the surface wasn't able to cope with the destructive firepower.

Yet once the volley subsided, the prow of the capital ship only exhibited some modest surface damage.

The injury only emboldened the Larkinsons!