The Mech Touch - Chapter 7431: Dominance Play
Chapter 7431: Dominance Play
Chapter 7431
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Ves continued to converse quietly with Master Goldstein.
The Survivalist Faction harbored a lot of suspicion towards the Terrans.
To be honest, Ves thought that the mechers may be exaggerating the threat posed by the Terran Alliance.
Just as the Terrans regarded the mechers and the fleeters as their oppressors, the latter also saw the former as stubborn fossils who couldn’t wait to go back to their old habits.
While Ves was more than willing to believe that both sides had a point, he preferred to focus on what they had in common.
Both of them were human in the end. No matter how severe their grievances towards each other had grown, nothing mattered so long as the native aliens and the mutated voribugs sought to annihilate them both.
This should have been the time for every human to come together. All of this factionalism and mutual suspicion just detracted from the wars that mattered.
It was situations like these that Ves recognized that the Polymath had a point.
The human race had grown rapidly due to mutual competition, but it also remained utterly divided for the same reason. That led to a huge amount of waste resources and missed potential.
If a single leader gained supreme authority over all of the squabbling groups, then he or she would definitely be able to cut down on much of this senseless bickering!
Ves only needed to look towards the Cybernetic Empire to see how the Polymath had realized her vision on a relatively small scale.
Of course, he knew better than to voice such an opinion out loud. He also did not desire to let a personality as horrible as the Polymath take charge over all of red humanity.
“Our faction hoped to mend fences with the Terrans and the Rubarthans after their impulsive act of declaring independence.” Master Goldstein shared with the younger mech designer. “Though we disagree with their actions, we are not blind to the fact that some of their grievances… are legitimate. We have erred too much on the side of caution in the past two centuries. What is done is done. My fellow Survivalists and I are more interested in moving on and building a more equitable coalition against our mid-grade foes.”
That sounded like a sensible initiative.
Ves had no faith that it could succeed.
“That sounds both ambitious and naive.” He bluntly responded. “I have spent enough time among the Terrans and the Rubarthans to know that they would rather allow their entire colonial star empires to fall before they ever crawl back under the protective wings of the RA and the RF. The trauma that you guys have inflicted onto their people during the Age of Mechs is too great to establish an alliance so shortly after their breakaway. Even if it is the most logical course of action, those guys value their independence too much to open even the tiniest gap for you guys to infringe on their autonomy.”
He could sort of understand this attitude. Ves had always chased after sovereignty as well. He wanted to get out under the thumb of people who did not care about his wellbeing at all. Only by grasping enough power would he be able to run his life according to his own interests.
That was why he felt somewhat sympathetic towards the Terrans. They may be making a mistake, but at least they did it on their own terms.
“Humans need room to express themselves.” Ves responded. “You mechers like to reduce undesirable variables as much as possible by putting everything and everyone into neatly labeled boxes, but that is not how people want to live, at least not all of them. The more you try to stuff them into a confining room, the more they will regard it as a prison. Such behavior will ultimately end up doing more harm than good. Control alone is never the complete solution. I believe that the Big Two and by extension the Red Two have been deficient when it comes to sharing the benefits of their mostly peaceful reign over human civilization. Is it any wonder that the Terrans and the Rubarthans couldn’t wait to slip out of your hegemonic rule?”
Master Goldstein frowned in disapproval. “Your argument is nothing new, Ves. The full details are not clear to you. If you have studied this subject in-depth, then you should know that we have given the Terrans and the Rubarthans ample space to preserve their pride and their traditions. We have not cracked down as hard on them as we have done to other, less powerful star nations. We could have pushed harder and demanded a greater degree of compliance from them, but that would have led to an unreasonable amount of resistance. The leaders who advocated for peace and stability could never abide by such a consequence. In hindsight, that may have been the better choice. It is better to swallow a bitter pill early than to suffer a serious disease later.”
It sounded rather dangerous and provocative for a leading figure of the Red Association to openly talk about subjecting a reign of terror to the subjugated Terrans and Rubarthans.
Their conversation had already drawn a lot of scrutiny, and not the welcome kind either. The more the two foreign mech designers talked, the more the Terrans in the vicinity started to adopt ugly expressions!
Though Master Goldstein clearly did not care about intensifying the hatred that the Terrans harbored towards their former hegemons, Ves did not want to associate himself with this long-standing political dispute!
He coughed and quickly wrapped up his conversation with the ornery Master Mech Designer.
“Please excuse me. I have a lot of acquaintances to catch up to. For what it is worth, I hope that your attempts to forge a defensive alliance between the Red Ocean Union and the Terran Alliance will yield results. You are correct that we need to put less emphasis on our internal divisions and direct more attention against our true enemies. I hope that everyone else you speak to is sane enough to recognize the wisdom of working together.”
Even as Ves said that, he did not actually believe that Master Goldstein would accomplish anything meaningful during his visit.
Minutes passed as Ves continued to wade deeper into the giant biomorphed orbital station.
The scent of fresh greenery continued to massage his olfactory senses as he continued to speak with various Terrans.
He did not know all of them in person. The probability of encountering an individual he met before or memorized for other reasons remained fairly low.
The most notable individuals he met a little later on were the martial heroes of the Larkinson Clan.
Ves approached a gathering of ace pilots who all hailed from the same clan.
The Larkinson Clan.
“Ladies. Gentlemen. It’s been a while since you all gathered together.”
Saint Tusa Billingsley-Larkinson, Saint Davia Stark, Saint Dise Larkinson, Saint Commander Casella Ingvar- Larkinson, Saint Isobel Kotin-Larkinson and Saint Jannzi Larkinson all stood in a loose circle.
The entire space around them turned into a void. Nobody dared to approach the ace pilots. The air around the circle had grown incredibly oppressive towards individuals of weaker minds and wills.
It couldn’t be helped. Even outside of the cockpits of their respective machines, their Saint Kingdoms still radiated outwards from their bodies, just in much weaker and less expansive forms.
When two Saint Kingdoms came into contact with each other, a tentative struggle of dominance often ensued.
Ace pilots never wanted to admit their inferiority. They saw personal encounters with each other as small opportunities to compete with each other.
What happened when three or more ace pilots met each other in person?
They all started a free-for-all! Their collective fight against each other quickly turned the spiritual battlefield into a mess!
Although certain powerful figures could overwrite this ridiculous farce, the Larkinson ace pilots clearly intended to establish a pecking order based on comprehensive strength.
Ves almost winced as he waded closer to their impromptu gathering.
From their formal outfits to the way they glanced into each other’s eyes, every part of their facade played a role in their little dominance competition.
As far as authority was concerned, none of the ace pilots wielded greater influence than the Saint Commander.
However, Casella Ingvar struggled to earn the respect of her peers. Their power was a lot more direct than that of an ace commander.
Even her status as the matriarch of the Larkinson Clan did not carry as much weight among these powerful stalwarts.
When it came to martial might alone, multiple Larkinson saints had a chance of taking this crown!
From Saint Tusa who was the first Larkinson to break through to Saint Dise who had built a reputation as a duelist, to Saint Jannzi who had become an unbreakable shield, they all possessed valid claims to the top position.
Yet none of them could surpass each other.
The confrontation was a mess, but it was also an opportunity for Ves to observe their relative strengths.
What he saw was that Saint Dise’s swordsmanship had reached an incredible level. Her willpower was razor-sharp and capable of cutting through the posturing of the others.
Saint Jannzi’s willpower, by contrast, was immovable. She could withstand the attacks of the others without flinching, but she couldn’t impose her will on them either.
Saint Tusa was slippery, his willpower shifting and evading like the wind. He couldn’t dominate, but he couldn’t be pinned down.
Saint Davia Stark, the newest addition to their ranks, was still finding her footing. Her willpower was strong but unfocused, lacking the refinement of the others.
Saint Isobel Kotin radiated a dark, corrupted energy that made the others uneasy. Her transformation had left marks on her soul that could never be erased.
And Casella… Casella’s Command Field was useless in a direct confrontation between equals. She could coordinate them in battle, but in a dominance contest, she was at a disadvantage.
Ves watched the silent struggle with fascination. This was a rare opportunity to see the true nature of his clan’s ace pilots.
After several tense minutes, the standoff showed no signs of resolution. If anything, it was intensifying, drawing unwanted attention from other guests.
Finally, Saint Dise spoke.
“Enough.”
Her voice cut through the tension like a blade. The others hesitated, their Saint Kingdoms wavering.
“We are Larkinsons.” She continued. “Our strength is not in dominating each other, but in standing together against our enemies. Save your willpower for the battlefield.”
One by one, the ace pilots began to withdraw their Saint Kingdoms. The oppressive atmosphere slowly dissipated.
Casella shot Saint Dise a grateful look. As matriarch, she should have been the one to restore order, but her abilities weren’t suited for this kind of confrontation.
Ves stepped forward, clapping slowly.
“A magnificent display. Though perhaps not the most appropriate for a diplomatic gala.”
The ace pilots turned to him, their expressions ranging from sheepish to defiant.
“We were just… getting reacquainted.” Tusa said with a grin.
“Indeed.” Dise agreed smoothly. “It has been too long since we last gathered. The pressures of war have kept us apart.”
Ves nodded, accepting the explanation even though they both knew it was a polite fiction.
“Well, reacquaint yourselves later. The Terrans are about to make their announcement, and I have a feeling we’ll want to be present for it.”
The ace pilots exchanged glances, then fell into step behind him.
As they moved through the crowd, Ves couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride. These were his clan’s champions. Flawed, competitive, and sometimes difficult to manage, but undeniably powerful.
Whatever the Terrans were about to unveil, the Larkinson Clan would be ready.
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