The Mech Touch

"I will need to think about it further, Master." Ves eventually spoke. "I will need to speak with my advisors and spend more time on formulating the most appropriate merit spending plan for our clan."

Master Goldstein nodded in understanding. "That is a prudent course of action. Take all of the time you need. Once you have finalized a spending plan, please transmit it to my account. I will review it and comment on it to ensure you have not overlooked any important details. Once everything is in order, I will pass your list onto the merit exchange where my fine colleagues can work on delivering what you have requested."

"Thank you for offering your assistance."

"No problem. You are one of our valued associates. Helping you navigate the endless options that you can exchange with your MTA merits is one of our great pleasures."

That was certainly believable. The mechers liked nothing more than to see its subjects spend the MTA merits that the Mech Trade Association originally issued to them. The greater the circulation of MTA merits, the more people were impacted by the MTA!

The two mech designers continued to talk about various different subjects. None of them were all that important, but Ves appreciated the opportunity to learn about a few matters that someone like Master Goldstein found important.

Though Ves missed the familiarity and bond of trust he had built with Master Willix, Master Goldstein was nice enough, if a bit more fixated on business.

Ves had the feeling that Master Goldstein made sure to allocate enough time for this conversation to remind him that the Survivalist Faction still existed.

After all, Ves cooperated with the Transhumanist Faction a lot more extensively over the last years. He also felt a greater affinity for the goals and some of the more modest aspirations of the Transhumanist.

If not for the fact that Jovie Armalon was a part of the Survivalist Faction, Ves might have tried to find a way to cut his ties to this group!

"I recently received an invitation to some sort of big meetup organized by your faction." Ves said. "Can you tell me what it is all about and why my presence may be needed?"

Master Goldstein's demeanor turned a lot less light-hearted all of a sudden.

"I cannot divulge much to you. We are still deciding on the exact agenda for our conference. I can reveal in general terms that the topics we will address among ourselves will not only address the great problem with pioneers that we have discussed earlier, but many other weighty topics. The grand occasion also serves as a good reason to gather the majority of prominent members of our faction in one physical location. While we have no issue with communicating with each other remotely by relying on our advanced technologies most of the time, we still recognize the importance of meeting each other face-to-face. Many great and accomplished mech designers will attend."

That sounded serious. Ves did not entirely understand what a trivial figure like himself could contribute to the enormous discussions that would doubtlessly be held at this fancy conference.

He felt like a little kid attending a scientific conference held by respected academics and professors. The gap between him and the main speakers was so enormous that Ves was rather suspicious why he was asked to attend in the first place!

"How long will this conference last?"

"That depends." Goldstein answered. "You can expect it to last for at least a week, but nothing is set in stone. Regardless of how long you are required to attend, I highly advise you to take advantage of the concentration of notable figures to expand your network and find potential new collaboration partners. If you happen to advance to Senior at the time, the conference is also an excellent venue for you to come into contact with an individual connected to a prestigious mech university. Your chances of convincing a mech university to appoint you as a professor will always be better if you are able to make your case in person."

Ves possessed a high opinion of his persuasive abilities, so he strongly agreed with that assessment.

This mysterious Survivalist conference sounded more and more attractive to him. Even if all of the bigwigs confined themselves behind closed doors, their extensive entourage would definitely linger around the meeting site!

Ves could meet and connect with many prominent mech designers and other people who were tied to the Survivalist Faction. Each person who had gained the appreciation of an MTA faction was worth befriending in his opinion. The possible gains he could derive from meeting new people could be astronomical if he hooked up with the right individuals!

After he gained the clarification he wanted from Master Goldstein, the conversation soon wound down.

They could still talk a lot more about topics such as their own mech design work, but Master Goldstein had a busy schedule. He was already being generous enough by allocating enough time to enlighten Ves about matters that were highly relevant to his career.

"You will have to find your own way from here." The bald MTA Master eventually said as he stood up from his seat. "Keep up the good work. You have shown great courage and selflessness in your latest initiatives. Do not waver in your determination to contribute to humanity. Know that our fellow Survivalists and I are constantly monitoring your progress."

Ves could do without hearing that last sentence.

He bowed. "I appreciate your vote of confidence. I cannot promise that I can live up to your expectations, but I shall do my best to excel."

He concluded his fruitful meeting after that. Once the Antazella de Osiris teleported him back to the Spirit of Bentheim, he felt a lot of relief.

His fears hadn't come true.

The MTA did not blame him for leading the Cenatus Prospecting fleet into an unfavorable confrontation against an alien battleship.

The MTA did not call him out on the numerous war crimes and other misdeeds that he may or may not have committed.

The MTA did not try to rip him and his allies off by awarding the Golden Skull Alliance with only a paltry sum of MTA merits for all of the contributions that it made.

The MTA did not take away all of the goodies and phasewater that his salvage teams had carefully taken from the remnant alien battleship.

"Everything is good." He smiled.

His extensive conversation with Master Goldstein not only addressed his immediate concerns, but also gave him a better perspective on the outlook of the Survivalists.

One of the most important gains from this important talk was gaining a better understanding of what the Survivalists expected from human pioneers.

One of the unspoken messages conveyed by Master Goldstein was that the Survivalists were willing to be a lot more generous and forgiving to pioneers who made an effort to contribute to humanity. Only those who produced a net gain for humanity were worthy of their appreciation!

As for dirty vultures like Otrus Magrin, the Survivalists couldn't care less. If the old man happened to die in a terrible plot that also killed a lot of other people, then the Survivalists couldn't care less.

All of this basically incentivized Ves to put more effort into dressing up his actions in an altruistic coat!

Of course, Ves did not seriously think he had done much to contribute to humanity up until this point.

Unless the Transhumanist Faction was ready to introduce the transcendence glow to the greater human society, it was hard for a mech designer at his level to affect the course of humanity.

"One day." He whispered.

Now that the Golden Skull Alliance officially handed over the remains of the alien battleship to the MTA, there was no reason for the expeditionary fleet to linger in the Ramage Repulsor System.

The Golden Skullers were distinctly not welcome in the star system anymore. The recent arrivals wanted to commence their studies on the prototype alien vessel in a secure environment, and the presence of third parties posed a hindrance.

Without further ado, the expeditionary fleet headed to the nearest Lagrange point so that it could finally make the long journey back to Davute.

Before the Golden Skull Alliance made its way back to its old haunt, Ves had to say goodbye to an important guest.

While Ves had been talking with Master Goldstein, Lord Pearian Yorul-Tavik finally managed to contact his clan after regaining access to the galactic net.

Just as predicted, the clan showed enough willingness to pay the MTA to ensure Lord Pearian's safe passage back to a safe and protected star system.

This was an enormous relief. Ves did not want to keep hold of this hot potato any longer than necessary. Pearian had already ruined one pioneering fleet. He could easily ruin another solely due to the value of his identity!

Pearian looked a lot better now that he was waiting to get teleported to an MTA vessel.

He had lost his original outfits a long time ago, but the Larkinsons had handed him a malleable set of smart clothing which Pearian configured into a purple-and-brown pattern that represented his clan.

"Thank you for rescuing me from that hellish ship and prison." Lord Pearian shook hands with Ves. "I truly don't know how long I would have been able to last. When I was locked in that awful cell that has nothing except a single watering hole, I had already made the determination to die like a human rather than live as a traitor. Given my in-built anti-interrogation and anti-brainwashing augmentations, my captors would have gotten bored of me sooner or later. I can scarcely imagine what would happen to me at that point."

"Wasn't there a human cosmopolitan aboard the same ship?" Ves curiously asked. "If the aliens don't appreciate your identity, the cosmopolitan definitely should."

The disgraced first-class scion snorted in contempt. "That weasel would kill me himself if he thought that would endear him to his alien 'allies'. That man was creepy. It is one thing for aliens to be aliens. They're not us. That is a basic truth. What I cannot accept is seeing humans doing their best to emulate aliens. The horror I experienced when I saw Mr. Meren abandoning his humanity is a nightmare that will haunt me for the rest of my life."

Ves gently raised his arm and patted the poor man's shoulder. "Don't let this trauma drag you down. Try and learn from this and work hard to prevent this from happening to you or the people you care about ever again. That is how I have always dealt with the setbacks that I have suffered in my life."

Lord Pearian responded with a brittle smile.

"I am not as courageous and successful as you. It is difficult for me to say this as I grew up in a much better environment than you, but I am unlikely to rise from adversity as much as you. I believe this is the reason why you have managed to earn the status of a tier 6 galactic citizen through your own efforts while I had to rely on my birth and heritage to barely be able to qualify as a tier 10 galactic citizen. The mechers are much likelier to take the initiative to rescue you, especially if you have a large reserve of MTA merits. As for myself, their lack of actions in the last few months has already proven how little regard they hold for me. Not that I should have expected anything better."

"You haven't been abandoned, Pearian." Ves tried to correct the depressed first-rater. "Your family and clan ultimately pulled through to you. When your life was at stake, your relatives did not forget you or decided to cut their losses after making a rational cost-benefit analysis. They instead disregarded all of the losses you have caused for them and the lack of potential you have shown and chose to call upon thousands of pioneers to dig you out of whatever hole you were hiding in and bring you back to their embrace. That is what a true family is willing to do for its members. Take comfort in that, if nothing else."

"You... are right. My family and clan are what matters the most!"

Lord Pearian no longer fell into a dark spiral anymore. His mood had substantially lightened.

By the time the MTA finally teleported away, Lord Pearian looked ready to go back to his clan and work hard to prove his family did not rescue him in vain!