The Mech Touch

Chapter 6203  The Poor Saint

All seemed lost as death and destruction unfolded before the eyes of the defenders.

When the Red Tide Offensive swept across the border regions like an unstoppable force, a lot of defenders struggled to keep their head above water.

The most intense and destructive battles took place in the upper zones. Though relatively small, the upper zones served as critical territories to red humanity as these regions happened to be abundant in phasewater or other rare exotics.

The Red Two and the first-rate colonial superstates often stationed large quantities of their own standing forces at these strategically important locations.

The middle zones were much larger and more expansive. They formed the backbone of human-occupied space as far as people were concerned.

Although many of the mechs stationed in the middle zones could not compete against first-class multipurpose mechs, they were much cheaper and easier to mass produce in vast quantities!

Second-class mechs hit the sweet spot between affordability and combat power. They were the most suitable choice to defend large swathes of territories of moderate value and importance.

Pilots of this class might not enjoy the best training and augmentations, but they arguably possessed the greatest control over their own futures. If they were afraid of hardship, they could attend a more relaxed mech academy and graduate to become a second echelon combatant.

Those that aspired for greatness could work a lot harder to attend the most prestigious second-class mech academies and apply for frontline combat duties once they started their careers.

Success cases such as the famous Destroyer of Worlds proved that there was a pathway for second-raters to ultimately ascend to the rank of god pilot!

If the probabilities were extremely slim, the existence of a tiny opening was enough to motivate countless second-class mech pilots!

In comparison to the glamorous upper zones and the respectable middle zones, many people never paid any attention to the lower zones.

The word 'lower' already possessed negative connotations. Attaching it to a zone instantly caused the entire region to degrade in the eyes of many first-raters and second-raters.

It was as if every lower zone was not only devoid of valuable resources that could enable red humanity to compete against the powerful native aliens, but also possessed a degenerate atmosphere that could corrupt any superior being that traveled in the wrong direction.

Unlike second-raters who had a chance of getting promoted into first-raters, third-raters possessed virtually no chance of reaching the top of human society.

They not only needed to perform above and beyond their distressing lack of quality augmentations to become a second-rater, but had to work even harder to earn the recognition of first-raters!

This was practically not doable in any person's lifetime.

The only example that people could point to in recent times was the famous Devil Tongue, but most third-raters had come to despise him and reject his credentials as a third-rater.

"Professor Larkinson? Isn't he the mech designer who claimed to start off as a humble citizen of the Bright Republic, only to neglect to share that his mother was a centuries-old monster who wielded power like a god back in her heyday? This guy is anything but a grassroots success story! The only reason why he got to live in the Terran Alliance is because he is pampered by his mother. He was a fallen first-rater who only recently managed to return to where he belonged."

The gulf between first-raters and third-raters was immense. This was reflected in many ways.

The lower zones occupied the largest amount of space, but received the lowest investments.

This was because most of the star systems in the lower zones lacked value to the powerful and prosperous groups. n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

It only made economic sense for third-raters to occupy and develop the terribly poor star systems of the lower zones.

Third-raters were numerous but cheap. They spread across the lower zones like cockroaches claiming the dark and unpleasant regions of space.

The space peasants attracted so much contempt from everyone that even the aliens looked down on them! They too discovered how the colonists of the lower zones were laughably weak!

This worked well for the third-raters, strangely enough. The major alien races looked down on the lower zones so much that none of them found it worthwhile to dispatch their own fleets to these filthy regions.

Instead, the Red Cabal had relegated the necessary but tedious job of invading the lower zones to the lesser alien races.

Of course, that did not mean that third-class mech forces had an easy time!

The lesser alien races came in all sorts of shapes and sizes. Their naval doctrines were incredibly varied and their ships were constructed in many different ways.

Developing in a galaxy dominated by the thirteen major alien races may have caused every civilization to conform to a set of common rules and standards, but that did not reduce the sheer diversity between lesser alien races.

Whatever the case, they might not pose a threat against the major alien races, but they were often more than a match against third-class mech forces!

"We have lost our left flank! Those alien phasefighters are tearing through troops from the side!"

"Our center line is holding out for now, but will collapse if the flanks go. We cannot afford to lose any further ground. Where are the reinforcements?!"

"We have already sent out the last reserves 5 minutes ago, sir. There is nothing left. We even sent out the damaged mechs that were waiting for repairs."

"....It may not matter anyway. The alien species that dispatched this fleet are clearly not doing their best. A fifth of their warships are maintaining their distance and acting as a strategic reserve. Our defenses are obviously not worth the effort for them to go all-out. How are mechs holding out against the alien phasefighters?"

"If there are no external factors intervening in this fight, then our third-class mechs will get crushed without question. Only our expert mechs are able to pose a serious threat against the opposing phasefighters. It is increasingly clear to us that the alien small craft are treating this fight as a training opportunity. According to our best projections, we can only eliminate up to 20 percent of their small craft at most."

The officer clenched his fist in anger. "Why are these aliens sent to a lower zone like ours?"

"The technologies mastered by this species are not that impressive. They are no match against second-class mech forces. The only reason why they are thrashing us is because they have access to enough phasewater to add it to all of their military assets, if only to a small extent. That makes it so that they are too weak against second-raters but too strong against third-raters."

The aliens did not adhere to a strict division of class and power level, so strange cases like these happened on occasion.

The leaders at the top didn't care. The Red Two formed a few fast response squadrons that patrolled the lower zone and took action whenever an alien force appeared that displayed strength beyond the norm.

However, there were too few of them to cover the entire lower zone. The descriptor of 'fast response' could only be treated as an aspiration as the mechers and fleeters all-too-often only arrived when the aliens had crushed all human resistance in a star system!

Most third-raters who fought in the border regions knew better than to rely on the high-and-mighty first-raters to bail them out of an unfair fight. The aliens did not play by the rules, and only sent out their more incompetent vassals to the lower zones because they did not want to be bothered with conquering large stretches of worthless space.

"We are on our own." The commanding officer concluded in resignation. "Our mechs are completely within the grasp of the aliens. Once our enemies finally tire of this game, our orbital defenses will not last long against these foes. Their transphasic attacks can rip through our thick alloy plating like nothing. The only satisfaction we can gain from this fight is to play hide-and-seek with the aliens by tunneling deep underground. Transphasic weapons have limits and cannot possibly penetrate kilometers worth of soil. Those of us who have survived up to that point won't be able to live comfortable lives, but the aliens won't be able to control this planet with confidence."

Just as the commander was about to order a partial retreat and evacuation, a sudden development took place.

"Sir! Our sensor network has detected the approach of a strong source of emissions! If this newcomer is a solitary ship, then the power she has at her disposal is far greater than our own starships!"

"Have reinforcements arrived?!"

"We have not received any messages that indicate that this is the case. There are many forces passing through the lower zones in order to reach another middle zone or upper zone. This approaching ship may be one of them, sir."

"Probability that she is alien in origin?"

"Unlikely. Our sensors have observed enough data to distinguish between human and alien warp drives. The former has numerous improvements that cause them to produce slightly different readings."

"Then transmit an urgent request for help. Whether the newcomers is aware of our plight or not, let there be no ambiguity about our situation."

The native aliens apparantly made the same discovery as well, because their offensive rhythm instantly rose!

The alien phasefighters ceased to tangle against the third-class mechs in a contest of skill. The pilots no longer reduced the firepower of their lethal transphasic energy cannons and began to launch attacks that could easily spear through multiple layers of armor at once!

The casualty rate grew enormously, and thousands of third-class mech pilots with each passing minute!

If not for the fact that it was so cheap and easy to station lots of third-class mechs and mech pilots in a fixed location, the sheer amount of losses would have gutted the defenses of this fortified planet!

Then, the newcomer finally appeared.

When the distortion produced by warp travel and other sources of interference cleared up, both sides were taken aback by what they detected.

"That is not a ship."

"It's a mech, no a second-class mech."

"I recognize this machine! That… that is the famous Robin Hood!"

"You mean the ace mech of the Pauper?!"

The Robin Hood possessed an iconic appearance that made the machine look cheaper and shabbier compared to the most impressive first-class ace mechs utilized by peak ace pilots.

It even looked a bit underwhelming compared to many second-class ace mechs!

Nonetheless, the sight of this single machine inspired a lot of hope among the soldiers. Those who knew the reputation of this famously eccentric ace pilot even started to look forward to what was about to happen next!

"SOLDIERS OF THIS LOWER ZONE. REJOICE, FOR I SHALL INFUSE YOU WITH STRENGTH THAT CAN HELP YOU WIN!"

All of a sudden, every mech on the battlefield experienced a transformation unlike anything their pilots had ever witnessed.

A grand but intimately friendly power took hold of their machines, and seemed to amplify their performance to such an insane degree that not a single pilot possessed any comprehension of how much had changed!

When the mechs began to fight under the effect of the Robin Hood's insane command field, their pilots and the people stationed in the rear all dropped their jaws as they witnessed the updated performance of the boosted machines.

The attacks of the third-class mechs ripped through the transphasic energy shields as well as the frames of the enemy phasefighters as if they were as permeable as air!

Many more mechs opened fire with their rifles and found that they were able to core every phasefighter that they previously struggled to damage.

"This… this is exhilarating!"

"Hahaha! It's not so nice to be on the receiving end of overpowered attacks now, you alien bastards!"

The melee mech pilots became even more excited as they experienced their own improvements first-hand. Their mechs flew many times faster, so much so that if not for the assistance provided by the mysterious command field, the pilots would have gotten overwhelmed by the excessive speeds they reached!

When the melee mechs easily caught up to the phasefighters that usually flew fast enough to outspeed any third-class mech, the sword and spear strikes easily shattered the transphasic energy shields and tore through the fuselages with just as much ease!

"The performance of my mech has almost reached the standards of a first-class mech! This is insane! My machine should have fallen apart long before it is able to perform at such an extreme level!"

"Who cares? Enjoy it while you can!"

It was not just the enemy phasefighters that became as vulnerable as piglets in front of the empowered mechs.

The much larger and more threatening alien warships also faltered under the attacks of thousands of vengeful third-class mechs!

The pilots all took advantage of the incredible power boost provided by the Robin Hood and eagerly took revenge against the alien species that thought they could treat the defenders as practice dummies!

In the meantime, the Robin Hood did nothing more. It had symbolically fired its energy crossbow at the thrusters of the alien flagship, thereby preventing the vessel from slipping away, but other than that, the second-class ace mech appeared content to let the mechs under its influence do all of the work!

Saint Robert Richardson smirked as he sat inside the cockpit of his ace mech. The peak ace pilot knew that many of his peers looked down on him for taking pity on the third-raters, but he felt differently.

The third-raters were worth saving. Their limited wealth and means could not spoil the strengths of their hearts! They only needed an opportunity to prove they were better than the snooty first-raters that looked down on everyone else from their ivory towers!