Humanity's Greatest Mecha Warrior System

Max awoke with a jolt as a freezing cold hand crept up his thigh. “Dammit Nico, that’s just evil, and your hands are freezing.”

“Seven degrees below freezing to be precise. It’s time to get up. I’ve got the Samurai Pattern data added to the training simulations, so it is time to start training the Line Mecha Pilots in hand-to-hand combat, and you’ve got messages waiting for you from other Reaver groups who are looking for data on the trials, which also needs to be sent to Uncle Lu again so that he can verify that the first set of numbers he got wasn’t corrupted.

Oh, and there is some sort of issue with the new Mecha design, something about the increased height causing resonance issues with energy fields. I’m sure he will explain it in depth when you see him.” Nico explained.

“That’s too many things to do for one day. Now I understand why nobody else wanted to be in charge.” Max complained, looking over the list of Reaver Commanders he had meetings with over the next 24 hours.

“Fine, I will take care of the Line Mecha Pilot training, you take care of the Reavers and Uncle Lu. I’ve already sent him my opinions, just a few minutes ago, so the rest of his concerns are all for you.” Nico suggested.

Nico rolled out of bed and Max gave her backside a slap for freezing him with her hands, hitting a solid block of alloy instead of the soft flesh that it was a half second earlier.

“That’s not enough to outsmart the alloys. But I appreciate the sentiment. Now, get dressed, unless you’re going to the meetings naked.” Nico laughed.

Max spared a moment to pity the recruits as Nico got dressed and left for the training halls aboard Terminus, then checked his schedule to see where all these meetings were supposed to take place.

There wasn’t enough room to dock all those ships with Terminus, so unless they were meeting somewhere centralized and coming in a shuttle, he would have to grab a shuttle of his own and make his way to the meeting location.

The first eight hours were all scheduled to be aboard the Moon Base, where Terminus was about to dock, so that was a real time saver, but the six-hour block after that was in the capital down on the surface, and then back up to the base for his final meetings with Uncle Lu.

The design issues with the new God Class Mecha weren’t going to be an easy discussion, especially since it was uncharted territory for everyone, using loads of new materials, and all untested design elements.

The previous round at least had a base structure to build off of so that the designers knew what was likely to work and what they knew would cause issues. That was not the case with this one, and it sounded like some major changes had been needed.

Max hailed a personnel transport, one of the electric-powered carts with seating for a dozen, like an oversized golf cart, which the crew used to move around the Moon Base, and headed for the exit, just as his wrist device started lighting up with short videos and messages of both complaint and amusement from the Regiment.

Nico had insisted that all of the Battalion and Company Commanders as well as all of the Corvette Class units who would be fighting alongside the new pattern Line Mecha, be trained in the new combat styles.

By her logic, if they had no idea what the unit was capable of, there was no way for them to be competent leaders, especially the Corvette Class Pilots who were often deployed in Mixed wings with the Line Mecha.

[Boss, you should see what the tiny demon wants us to do. I swear that shouldn’t be physically possible.] Colonel Klinger sent, along with a short video from inside the simulator of Nico’s version of basic melee combat forms.

She did them three times. First at her full speed, which was the theoretical maximum speed of the Line Mecha, plus a bit for her own optimizations, and then again a third slower, but still faster than a standard Line Mecha could move. That one she called a passing grade for the day.

The third was done at a sedate crawl so that the pilots could take in every minute adjustment of the Mecha that was required to make the maneuvers work.

The style she had picked was similar to the Cygnus style, but more graceful, as befit the noble design of the Samurai Pattern, and her execution looked almost human.

In short, there was absolutely no way that the Pilots were going to be able to live up to her standards, which Max knew meant extra practice as a punishment, as well as personalized training, a function that had been built into the Martial Arts training program, to begin with.

[Good Luck Klinger, you’re going to need it if you’re going to get up to speed in a Line Mecha in one day. How long has it been since you were even in one?] Max replied.

[A decade, maybe two. It’s been a while.]

At least all of his senior officers would have the training to make sure that their charges were living up to expectations, assuming that they could all pass Nico’s training.

After the first six hours of boring meetings, going over the same data that he had sent to the Commanders two days ago, and watching the same videos over and over to explain the basics of how the shield regeneration worked in the new Mecha, Max was mentally exhausted.

[You’ve got 45 minutes to nap between boarding the cutter from the base until your meetings on the planet. Take a 30-minute nap.] Nico told him as Max left the meeting hall, being stopped constantly by jubilant Reavers, who were ready to place huge orders to update their Mecha forces.

[If I can. How is training going?] Max asked.

[Not bad, we’re only six hours in, and already we have some that have passed the day one portion of the combat forms. Give it another six hours and the rest should be properly motivated to do it right tomorrow.]

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