The Mech Touch

While Venerable Dise continued to learn more about Venerable Yerilda and the Germund Family, the other Larkinson expert pilots spread out as well.

Venerable Orfan joined a few drunken expert pilots who possessed vastly different origins. However, none of them asked where they came from or who they were fighting for. They only needed to know each other's names before they engaged in a friendly pattern of heavy drinking and swapping old war stories.

"Hahaha! So your people really dared to attack an ace mech, only to realize later on that you could have just asked what the other side wanted, is that right?"

"Yeah. Our boss got so spooked by the appearance of an ace mech that he just ordered our troops to fire first. A lot of good soldiers died for nothing because of this decision!" Venerable Orfan hiccuped as she took another swig of her mug.

"Did your people kick out your boss for this mistake?"

"No."

"Why?"

"He's damn good at designing mechs and making money. Our clan is nothing without him. Besides, he's an alright fellow most of the time. We know what we signed up for, and so far we keep getting stronger."

"That sounds like a good deal, but only if you manage to stay alive at the end. Not every boss cares about the soldiers who are paying for the mistakes for the bigshots. I've already seen a few expert pilots here jumping ship because they can't stand working for an idiot."

Venerable Orfan learned all kinds of interesting tidbits and insider stories through this friendly and seemingly unrestrained drinking session.

Even though she was ingesting so much alcohol that an ordinary human would have already lost consciousness, her augmented body efficiently filtered out most of the dangerous substances in her body. She only got drunk enough to gain a light buzz, which was more than enough for her to keep her wits.

The same applied to her other so-called drinking buddies. None of them had really lost control of themselves. They wouldn't be expert pilots if they were all susceptible to drinking addiction!

At some point, Venerable Orfan asked a random question.

"Have you heard about any dwarves in the Red Ocean?"

"Huh? Dwarves? Why do you care about those shorties?"

"I've heard that a lot of different dwarven pioneers decided to pledge service to a Rubarthan Prince."

"Really?!" Venerable Orfan became surprised. "How many dwarves? And what do you know about the ponce who took them under his wing?"

The expert pilot who revealed the news frowned a bit as he emptied his glass of vodka. "I don't recall the details. I just heard it from someone else who probably read about it on the galactic net. From what I know, the Brownstone Prince is welcoming them all under his banner for whatever reason."

"The Brownstone Prince?"

"He's referring to Prince Havilaik, the 1365th prince of the Rubarthan Imperial Household." A more knowledgeable female expert pilot clarified. "The Brownstone Prince is called that way because he has always been a fairly low-key guy who focused most of his life on building up a business empire. Unlike his many other siblings, he never competed for territory in the New Rubarth Empire. Instead, he became friendly with most of them as he focused on mining exotics and selling them to customers who need them. He's a big mining nerd."

Even though the New Rubarth Empire was incredibly powerful, ordinary people didn't necessarily hold much respect towards the princes.

Sure, they would definitely become nervous if a prince showed up in front of them, but the chances of that happening was almost 0 percent.

The biggest problem with the Rubarthan Imperial Household was that there were just too many damned princes. Though the Rubarthans themselves never kept an accurate count of how many sons and daughters the Star Emperor had fathered, it was definitely at least 2000 and most likely double as much!

The Star Emperor was over three centuries old and still maintained his virility according to many sources. He famously started a harem immediately upon ascending to the throne and immediately produced a lot of descendants.

By the time the 1000th child was born, the eager man finally slowed down, but never entirely stopped. Several children were born every year, though not everyone learned about them. Some princes lived their entire lives in obscurity, content to stay out of the nasty snake pit of imperial politics.

Due to the high status of the Star Emperor and his bloodline, pretty much all of the power of the New Rubarth Empire fell into the hands of his lineage.

The Rubarthan princes ran every major function. The older and more ambitious princes also held rich territories in the powerful first-rate superstate.

Competition was extremely fierce among the Rubarthan princes and there were tales that they even went to war against each other.

Of course, no matter how much the Rubarthan princes competed against each other, they showed absolute deference to their father. They also made sure to maintain a united front against the Terrans and the Big Two.

"What's His Highness doing with all of these dwarves?" Someone else wondered.

"Maybe he wants to keep the best miners of humanity in his retainer. You can say a lot of things about the dwarves, but they're good at extracting resources from planets and asteroids."

An older man scoffed. "That's because they have a history of being forced to work in the mines. If you ask me, this Brownstone Prince is going to do the exact same thing to these oblivious dwarves. Anyone who thinks a Rubarthan prince is a benevolent employer needs to get his head checked. They're all callous and aloof."

Several expert pilots nodded in agreement. The Rubarthan princes had a mixed reputation in human society. A few developed good reputations while others were notorious for their brutality.

It was due to the existence of the latter that most people preferred to have nothing to do with any Rubarthan prince.

All of that changed when the Red Ocean opened up for business.

"Hundreds of Rubarthan princes headed straight to the Red Ocean at the first possible instance." Another drinking expert pilot explained. "They probably got news in advance, I think. They've already spread out in different directions and set up their own little colonies. If not for the lack of development and the non-existing trading economy, their colonies would have been impregnable at this time. Anyway, these princes and princesses never managed to achieve much success in the old galaxy because all of their older relatives already claimed all of the good stuff. These younger princes such as the Brownstone Prince probably think they have another chance in this dwarf galaxy."

Venerable Orfan kept listening to what the others had to say while she quietly looked up the 1365th prince on the galactic net.

Just like many of his other siblings, Prince Havilaik led his own organization called the Brownstone Principality.

A principality had multiple meanings, but in this context the word was the Rubarthan equivalent of a noble house and centered solely around a direct offspring of the Star Emperor.

The most famed and powerful principalities all held solid territory within the borders of the New Rubarth Empire. Those that didn't even rule over a single planet were significantly less important.

The Brownstone Principality happened to fall into this category. It was a large and powerful mining company, but had no choice but to operate in the territory of other Rubarthan princes.

This reality always presented a hidden danger to Prince Havilaik as a boycott from the majority of his siblings could instantly collapse his business empire!

In the New Rubarth Empire, military might and control over territory were the two essentials for anyone to remain secure. Not even a Rubarthan prince was immune to bankruptcy!

Eventually, the conversation drifted away from the Brownstone Prince. The fellow wasn't interesting and he hadn't made any drastic moves when he entered the Red Ocean.

Of course, part of the reason why the expert pilots at Absalon Garden didn't know that much about the Rubarthan Imperial Household was due to their origins.

Chance Bay and the Vulit Central Star Node were nominally independent and neutral destinations for any second-raters.

However, a remarkably small number of pioneering groups aligned with the first-rate superstates stuck around for an extended amount of time.

They were eligible to receive much warmer welcomes to the Terran or Rubarthan equivalent of the Vulit Central Star Node!

The members of the Terran Alliance and the Rubarthan Pact all stuck to their respective central star systems where they could easily find like-minded partners to cooperate on various ventures.

As a result, most people who visited the Vulit Central Star Node tended to be unaligned or leaned towards the Red Ocean Union.

While Venerable Orfan kept listening to gossip, Venerable Jannzi spoke to another group of expert pilots.

"Would you like to join the Galactic Humanist Society?"

"Pardon?" Jannzi asked.

The older male expert pilot pressed his hand against his chest. "I can sense that you're a defensive mech specialist, and one that would rather avoid a battle than fight it out. Am I correct?"

Venerable Jannzi paid closer attention to the other person. "Who are you?"

"Leefer Povis of House Povis. More importantly, I'm an associate of the Galactic Humanist Society."

"What is this Society about?"

"Simply put, we are advocates who stand up for decency and human rights. We work to promote peace, increase mutual understanding, stand up for equality and provide justice to the disadvantaged."

"That… sounds interesting." Jannzi admitted as she paid more attention to this stranger. "Why do you think I'm a good fit?"

One of the other reasons why she took this random person seriously was because he was a high-tier expert pilot! She could already tell that his well-contained willpower was much stronger than her own!

Leefer Povis smiled. "Most expert pilots tend to be born and raised in war. There's nothing wrong with that, but it makes people like us fairly rare. Not every expert pilot is content with removing the reason why they are relevant. The Galactic Humanist Society is much more popular among people whose livelihoods don't depend on war."

"I see. I admit that I don't like to see people fighting pointless wars just to satisfy their greed, but that doesn't mean that every war is like that. There are also wars for survival. For example, if humanity didn't fight against the aliens back in the Age of Conquest, we would have gone extinct by now. Don't tell me that peace is always the answer."

"Hey, you misunderstand our mission. We stand up for every human, and that means accepting the reality that some aliens would dearly like to see us gone. We don't enjoy fighting them, but we will stand up for humanity if necessary. That said, our civilization has become so powerful that we can easily provide for our own people. There is no reason for us to wage any new destructive conflicts that only lead to further misery and loss of life."

"It sounds like your Society doesn't want to see humanity conquer the Red Ocean."

"You're right in that, but our voice isn't strong enough to prevent the Big Two from going through with their invasion." Leefer Povis sighed. "That's why we need more people like you. The more supporters we have, the more others will listen to us. One of our aims is to teach humanity that we can better everyone's lives by stopping needless infighting and start pouring our resources to more productive uses such as building schools and developing better infrastructure. The more we shrink our war industry, the better."

"Does that count for mech designers as well?" Jannzi's eyes glinted.

Leefer Povis scowled for a moment. "Mech designers are one of the cancers of modern society. Their purpose in life is to create and sell as many war weapons as possible. It's impossible for them to root for peace. The excessive number of mech designers and their unusually high weight in human civilization has distorted it in a way where we always cheer when mechs are used for destructive ends. The Galactic Humanist Society isn't claiming that they should all disappear, but we can probably do away with 99 percent of them. Only the most virtuous and altruistic mech designers should be allowed to remain."

That was a radical opinion!

However, Venerable Jannzi liked what she heard. Venerable Leefer Povis just articulated most of what she had always thought but never turned them into proper arguments!