"Is this the future of the Friday Coalition?" Tristan Wesseling asked in a hollow tone.

"Power struggles are always messy." Perla Monater said as she stepped up to Tristan's back. "In some cases, the only way to save the lives of the people you care about is to take the lives of others. You know the score, Tristan. The Hexers are no longer the greatest threat to the Friday Coalition. Even if the Hex Federation eventually manages to overwhelm our colonies in the Magair Middle Zone, our home state in the old galaxy will still be safe and sound. At most, we will have to start over and invest in another colonial state in a different zone in the Red Ocean. The more acute threat to our state is the enemy from within. If the Gauge Dynasty's rise cannot be curbed, then the balance will be broken. Do you think that Carnegies such as you and Master Katzenberg will be able to retain your positions in our state?"

Tristan fell silent for a time. It seemed as if he was spending more time on viewing the live footage of the battle in Pima Prime than on the implications of his handler's words.

Many different broadcasts had popped up in the galactic net that provided many options for viewers to track the unfolding orbital battle.

It couldn't be helped. While neither side of the conflict wanted to expose their mechs and unveil their trump cards, Pima Prime was not exactly an obscure and uninhabited star system.

Instead, it was a fully-fledged port system that had welcomed many visitors!

Even if 90 percent of the traffic that flowed through Pima Prime consisted of Fridayman s.h.i.+ps and fleets, the remaining 10 percent largely consisted of foreign traders!

Many of them had already evacuated from the star system as soon as it became clear that Pima Prime had turned into a warzone.

Others lingered in the star system for one reason or another. Plenty of them possessed enough capabilities to observe the battle at the Kosic Ring from afar and broadcast all of the excitement on the galactic net.

It didn't matter if the Gauge Dynasty did not approve of these actions. There were far too many third-party s.h.i.+ps to stop. There was no way the Gaugers would be able to maintain their standing in the Red Ocean if they recklessly destroyed all of these broadcasting vessels.

As such, the battle in Pima Prime became a rare public spectacle that attracted the interest of a lot of people in both the old galaxy and the new frontier!

Both high and low people who resided in the Friday Coalition, the Garlen Empire, the Life Research a.s.sociation, the Heavensword a.s.sociation, the Smiling Samuel Star Sector, the Magair Middle Zone and the Krakatoa Middle Zone all tuned into one of the many broadcasts.

There were even people who watched multiple broadcasts at once in order to view the battle from different angles!

Friends, enemies, acquaintances as well as lots and lots of customers eagerly watched the broadcasts that focused on elements of the Larkinson Army.

The owners and users of living mechs had long heard that the Larkinsons kept their best stuff to themselves. The dazzling Larkinson-exclusive mechs and expert mechs working hard to defeat the Sundered Phalanx mech units did not disappoint in this regard!

Millions if not billions of spectators fell in love with mechs such as the Transcendent Punisher Mark II, the Ferocious Piranha Mark III, the Redaxe, the Second Sword, the Lucid Rage and so on. Many of these machines had never shown up on the market before and attracted many mech pilots who previously did not pay attention to the LMC's products in the past.

Even Tristan became profoundly impressed by all of the mech designs that Ves had provided to his clan.

Though it was clear that the Larkinson Patriarch frequently collaborated with his own circle of mech designers, that did not diminish his accomplishments.

Ves had progressed incredibly far compared to other Journeymen!

His design philosophy was so powerful and introduced so many new options that his accomplishments so far were probably unmatched by nearly any other mech designer at his age!

Tristan even doubted whether the most privileged and talented scions of the most powerful first-cla.s.s families and dynasties could outmatch Ves in terms of innovation and adding value to mechs.

Certainly, Tristan possessed a shallow understanding of the unreasonable capabilities of the best Journeymen from the Terran Confederation and the Rubarth Empire.

The elite Journeymen from the MTA were supposed to be even better, but Tristan never really got exposed to them. He was not qualified to get close enough to their orbit.

Regardless, most Journeymen were still at the stage where they mostly relied on the teachings and acc.u.mulation of the older generation of mech designers to develop their mechs.

A proficient mech designer such as Tristan could vaguely judge the proportion of originality and novelty of a mech by studying its designer and its characteristics.

For example, whenever Tristan looked at his own work, the amount of elements that were based on existing tech and knowledge was almost always above 97 percent!

Though this was an extremely high number, it was not that bad of a figure in the mech industry. He was just a Journeyman, after all, and he had also learned an awful lot from Master Katzenberg over his apprentices.h.i.+p, so there were many echoes of her design philosophy in his own mech designs.

It also didn't help that his specialty only left a particularly small footprint in his mech designs. It was difficult for most people to notice the influence of a small gem that only slightly altered the characteristics of a mech in an esoteric manner unless Tristan added an explanation.

Compared to his subtle design solutions, the ones developed by Ves were as clear as day! Even a blind person could recognize a living mech based on its glow alone!

Tristan felt more lost than ever. A sense of inferiority overtook his mind.

What had he been doing all of these years?

He had spent over 5 years of his life helping his state rebuild the damaged and broken infrastructure of the planets that it had conquered.

He did not regret the time he spent on trying to improve the lives of those that had fallen victim to the Komodo War.

He became more cognizant of how mechs affected the people and the environment and he also grew up a lot faster by spending time on ground zero of many battles than if he remained stuck underneath Master Katzenberg's skirt.

Yet despite developing a lot as a person, Tristan felt more clearly than ever that his mech design capabilities had remained stuck for an awfully long time.

Personally, he judged that he was still in the early to middle period of the progression of a Journeyman. This was actually not that bad in the mech industry, but he should have been considerably further ahead given his ident.i.ty as the direct disciple of a Master Mech Designer!

Tristan glanced at the mechs and expert mechs that clearly carried Ves' distinctive touch and design style.

He became particularly impressed by the newer Larkinson expert mechs such as the Minerva and the C-Man. Their designs encapsulated some of the best of what their designers had offered, and already these machines gave Tristan a preview of what Ves and his collaborators had in store for the future!

The latest mech models of the Larkinson Clan all indicated that Ves was not that far away from advancing to Senior. Perhaps he only needed to increase his design collection and wait for a turning point before he could completely distance himself from the likes of other Journeymen such as Tristan.

This realization caused the Fridayman mech designer to feel even more lost.

What had he been doing all of these years?

How could he have let himself go astray?

Could he even call himself a mech designer?

As the unfolding battle in Pima Prime continued to hammer all of the work and progress that Ves had achieved over the years, Tristan began to feel a deep and burning desire to catch up to his friend and rival.

Ves possessed much humbler beginnings than Tristan, but nowadays the former citizen of a third-rate state had risen up to the point where he ruled over a prototypical second-rate state by virtue of his design work alone!

This life trajectory was so amazing that Tristan had no hope of topping it in his lifetime!

However, that did not mean that Tristan was willing to give up on this contest and admit his mediocrity.

There were plenty of late bloomers in the mech industry. Some talents managed to stand out in their forties while others only started to gain a lot of respect after two centuries of living.

Though Tristan did not want to wait that long for him to attain success, he was determined to make his mark on the mech industry before he reached his 100th birthday!

A fire lit up in his heart. Though his doubts, self-recrimination and other negative feelings hadn't gone away, they became overshadowed by his renewed pa.s.sion for his work!

Tristan stood up all of a sudden. He took one last look at the living mechs that were pressing the Sundered Phalanx mechs in many ways and waved his hand to cut all of the feeds.

"What are you doing, Mr. Wesseling?" Perla Monator raised her eyebrow.

"I've seen enough of this battle. What happens next is no longer my concern."

The diplomatic attach crossed her arms. "The process and outcome of this battle will have profound implications for our state and our coalition partners. It is not an exaggeration to say that the future of the Carnegie Group and the Vermeer Group will be decided by the events that you have set in motion."

"It doesn't matter anymore." Tristan shrugged his shoulders. "I'm done."

"Pardon?"

"You heard what I said. A woman as clever as you should know exactly what I mean by my words. I am done with all of this. I am far too tired with everything the people of my state have foisted upon me. I am finished with working on behalf of people. It is high time that I regain control over my own life and go back to designing mechs for myself."

Miss Monater frowned deeper. There was a tone of finality in Tristan's tone that implied that his decision was more severe than his words suggested.

"Your mission has not yet pa.s.sed. You have proven your ability to make Patriarch Ves hear you out. Your value has skyrocketed as a result. There are still many potential areas where we can cooperate with the Larkinson Patriarch and his impressive network."

Tristan pressed his lips. "You can find someone else to serve as your lackey. I won't do this anymore. I have already decided to submit a proposal to Master Katzenberg to end my a.s.sociation with her and withdraw myself from her organization. I will also seek her help in arranging my formal separation from the Carnegie Group and the Friday Coalition. I no longer want to be a Fridayman after becoming involved in all of these dishonorable and distasteful actions."

Miss Monater became alarmed. "Do you think you can step away from the Friday Coalition anytime you want? Don't forget that the Carnegie Group nurtured you and provided you with endless opportunities! To renounce your citizens.h.i.+p is one of the most ungrateful acts you can make as a person!"

It was a pity that Tristan was not impressed by her argument. "My relations.h.i.+p with the Carnegie Group and the Friday Coalition has always been transactional as far as I'm concerned. While it is true that my home state has provided a lot of help and opportunities to me, I have served long enough to repay every kindness that I have received. I partic.i.p.ated in numerous military mech design projects during the Komodo War. I helped in the reconstruction effort after the war. I managed to convey your message to my old friend and triggered a ma.s.sive attack that will kill a lot of Gaugers and ostensibly preserve the balance of the Friday Coalition. I believe that all of these contributions are more than sufficient to receive my desired reward."

There was not much Perla Monater could do to argue against that. Personally, she was sympathetic towards Tristan's situation, but she still needed to get in touch with her superiors in order to determine how she should proceed.

"You will lose your ties to Master Katzenberg along with the status that you have built up in the Friday Coalition if you proceed as you have said. What will you do after this, Mr. Wesseling?"

A hopeful smile appeared on Tristan's face. He looked around his environment as if deciding where he should make his new home.

"I think I will remain here in Davute and found my own mech company. The local environment is not friendly to Journeymen such as me, but I think Master Katzenberg will give me enough of a farewell gift for me to start anew. The Red Ocean is a splendid place to start anew."

The Friday Coalition was hundreds of thousands of light-years away. Davute was located in a different zone from the Friday Colonies. Tristan would definitely be able to gain the separation that he desired if he remained on this planet.

"I am reborn."