What's Junk? (The Mech Touch)

[lost star]

AN: So, another new fiction by me. Placed in the safe for work section even, so don't complain about no lewds. I'm not particularly sure about this one, and I'm very, very likely not going to match the fiction I'm doing fanfiction for. This is from The Mech Touch, a mammoth fictional setting that, has good parts and bad parts. Read it until you get tired of it imo. It starts great but sorta degrades over time. (Which considering how long it is is more impressive than anything else.)
---

Hanging upside-down was not a pleasant experience. It made the blood rush to your head, it was mildly disorientating, and it was surprisingly tiring. Bolt Silica was already regretting doing it to himself, but he could not have figured out another way of getting to this particular part.

From the outside it probably looked ridiculous. Picture a young man at the cusp of adulthood, heavily muscled, red haired, brown eyed. Now stick him inside the torso of a ruined looking mech and have his legs in the air with a few chains securing him in place. That was Bolt right now. It was supremely uncomfortable. It was also necessary.

The mech needed to be fixed. His family had made the effort of lugging the parts into the bay, assembling the nightmarish blend of parts into something coherent and taken the time to screw and bolt it all tight. Hours worth of work had been spent creating this Junker mech, and all it had resulted in was a slab of metal that couldn't walk. That was both unacceptable and expensive.

Bolt Silica and his family were rats. Well, they were human, but also Rats. People considered the dregs of society. The planet they lived on was a war torn place on the edges of the galaxy sandwiched between three separate Third Rate Nations. Too worthless to be valuable in peace time and too disputed to be claimed too long in war time, the planet's only claim to fame was the extensive graveyards of mechs. In other words it was a junkheap filled with mech parts that were too much effort to take off the planet and had no functional government.

It still had life naturally. The survivors left behind and deserters of various battles had mingled and made families over time. These Rats eked out a living scavenging metal and the scant resources available on the surface. Most of them hid in burrows and barely came to the surface, afraid of life in general after generations of warfare. Pitiful and frequently killed for the flimsiest of reasons, it was barely called living. They had no rights to the rest of the galaxy, and even the most noble visitor could barely stand looking at them, less because they were unsightly and more because they were considered the least of humanity. Their hopes and dreams were typically non-existent.

Bolt was not one of them. He was part of the Wrench Rats. They were a semi-formal group that built, maintained, and sold junkyard mechs to others on the planet. These mechs were barely dangerous to anyone competent, and only a step up from trash, but they were still mechs and could still squish a person with their feet if need be. It would have been a semi-respected position on any other planet. Here they were in more danger from their profession. From being forcefully enslaved, stolen from, or just killed because they were 'disrespecting mechs' they had a wealth of new ways to die. The Wrench Rats knew this and still persisted. They loved mechs in their own way, because they were a ticket to a better life. None of them could pilot so they did the next thing, worked with mechs.

Hence all of this. Bolt grunted and cursed as he reached into the pelvis of the Mech. In a more advanced area this sort of thing could be handled by manipulators. They had one machine capable of it here, and it was in the fritz. Not that it worked well in the first place, because it was what had helped assemble this mess before Bolt had gotten to it.

"Spend half our cheese on newfangled automated shit and end up with just expensive shit." Bolt cursed again as his hand finally got the wire.

The young man had been born with the Wrench Rats. He'd grown up toothing on mech bolts. He'd known how to assemble a piston before he could walk. He was by all accounts brilliant and only held back by the fact that his education was non-existent. Everything he knew was practical through working on junk mechs like this one, so he knew how to fix it. All it would take was threading a cable from the very tip of the mech's toe to the cockpit. The task was actually pretty easy with the proper tools.

Bolt had none of those. Hence the cursing. "Lousy pain in the ass damned hellish." He tugged and the wire slowly threaded through the various cable management areas and then the young man was finally able to attach it to the cockpit framework.

"Fire and Brimstone boy, what are ya up to there?!" His mother called out as she entered the mech bay.

"Trying ta get this thing actually going clank instead of sputtering!" Bolt called back as very carefully spliced the wire into the appropriate connection points. "I'm not gonna make us all the cheese even if I have ta bleed ta do it!"

"Yer cousin said that monster was kaput. Paw and I were going to cut it up after the Biters came by." The woman yelled up and frowned, not that he could see it. "Also, yer going to bust open your fool head trying that. At least use the lift!"

"Lifts broke, again, like everything else." Bolt grunted out and grabbed at one of the nearby tools needed to seal everything up. "Mind hittin' the remote power? Got it set I think."

His mother frowned still deeper. "Ya aren't by any power cables right? I ain't frying my son cause he had less sense than a rock."

Bolt very carefully didn't turn towards the woman. He was secured, but if he actually tried to move too much he was very afraid of spinning and getting more nauseous than he already was. "You know I'm not near the reactor, or main lines." He said eventually. His mother was a very experienced tech, like most of their family.

"Always double check ya know the rules. Never take anythin for granted! First lesson o' repair! Don't make me get out the big book o' stupid deaths again!" The woman stepped over. "Initiating first stage startup."

In front of Bolt the engine in the mech began to warm up. Bolt leaned forward and pressed his ear against the armor. This was the equivalent of putting a car in idle. Or it should have been. The problem with junk mechs was that everything was mismatched. There were sputters and he could almost feel the heart of the thing lurch as it struggled to work with the configuration. They'd had to splice two separate power conduits into this beast and it was not happy about it. It managed.

"Power's flowing." Bolt grunted and reached up. The cockpit seating and monitors had been ripped out and the outputs were complete mess even for a junker, but there was an interface screen they'd left specifically for this. He found it after some fumbling. "Hah! It's registering the legs now." He made a note that he'd have to redo the programming after this. It was still the default, which was horrid for junk mechs. "Can power it down Ma! Got the issue! Was just the command wires through the pelvis."

"That's all well and good Bolt, but it's getting late and we still need have the Biters coming by tomorrow." The woman called up as sternly as she could despite the smile already building. "Tis why I was out here in the first place. We need ta be sure your furs are straight and ya'll are ready."

The young boy nodded slowly. "Ok, I can..." Bolt paused as he tried to pull himself up. "I'm uhh, gonna need some help." He said as he realized he'd secured himself a bit too well.

His mother laughed. "Smarter than his father and half as wise." She joked before pausing and really looking at how he'd secured himself. "Actually looking at that mess ya got yourself in, I'm going to have to get your father and the saw." She mused.

"It's not that bad."

"Boyo, I ain't a big woman and ya used the chains we use for our big-ones for that fool position!"

 

[lost star]

For all that the planet was a junkyard, it did have things of merit. Some things. Enough to have it visited frequently when it wasn't being used as a staging ground for territorial pursuits. It had a space port and a nice 'city' for a given matter of the word. The city was actually more of a mess of buildings that were made for storge really. In times of peace it actually had people, and something resembling tourism.

The tourism was odd by most metrics. It consisted of idiots and thrill seekers mostly. The idiots came by trying to find something useful in the salvage. The thrill seekers came to fight.

Biters were the Rats that dealt with both of these outsider groups. They'd do anything for money, or cheese in the local parlance. For those attempting to scavenge, they nipped at the scavengers heels. For those looking for a thrill, they'd fight, for a price. They even had a local reputation for being a decent trial by fire for people looking to be bloodied. Just strong enough to be threatening, but not really dangerous to anyone with sense.

It actually took a lot of work to do the latter and live through it. Mech pilots could tell when there wasn't a threat. The Biters actually took a bit of pride in being a whetstone. Well as much pride they could have. No one was under any illusion as to their status. Rats were at the bottom eating crumbs and they knew it. Being used as chaff for various reasons wasn't much of a living, but it was a living. Better to lean into it and survive than be nothing at all.

Wrecker exemplified that. He was a fat and large man with a beard and a deliberately slovenly appearance. He looked like a man you wanted to kick the teeth in. He was also rich for a Rat and a canny business man. It took effort to be fat when you lived off mostly ration packs and piloted a mech.

As Ma said, the atmosphere did half the selling. That was why Bolt was in 'furs.' He had a mask on and brown robes as he stood by his father and mother. They were the faceless techs that dealt and sold dirty equipment. Untested, unproved, but ultimately the best they had on the planet. Again, something to lean into.

"Gonna need like... Three mediums today. Got a big Royal welcome planned." Wrecker laid out his request.

Pa breathed out heavily and deliberately to make himself seem more formidable. "That will cost a lot of cheese." He said through his mask.

"Ya know I'm good fer it. Might need ta wait till after the welcome, but you know how that goes." Wrecker replied with a heavy shrug.

"Nothing on credit." Pa countered with another heavy breath, the mask causing a loud hiss as emphasis.

"Umm poppa, do I really need to be here?" A small girl to the side of Wrecker asked.

"Well darlin, if ya want that toy, we gotta buy it from these ones." Wrecker noted with a wave. "Speaking of that, she could use one herself. Don't suppose you could show her a few? My little princess needs the best ya got."

"We don't let customers see storage." Pa hissed out slowly and ponderously.

"Ya could for her. She's special don't ya know!" Wrecker patted the small girl on the shoulder. "Tell you what, if you can find her a good one and I'll give ya the cheese for that and the three mediums."

Pa was silent a few beats as he thought before he jerked his head towards Bolt. The boy gave a careful nod and made a gesture for their guest to follow him. The girl grinned and bounced as she fell in line behind him, seemingly very glad to be away from the negotiations.

Bolt took a moment to glance at the girl. Smaller than him, young looking, long red braided hair, and far too many freckles. She did not look like a native Rat. Natives had red hair, but tended towards size and didn't have green eyes like her. Off world genes then, and strange ones likely. She was far too energetic for a normal Rat. There was no caution or hesitation either. She'd grown up safe.

"So, what's your name? Do you have one, or are ya'll like one of those faceless mooks?" The girl began to chatter.

"You read too many stories." Bolt replied back with a snort.

"Nah, I can't read." The girl replied back.

That made Bolt pause. Even the lowest of Rat at least had the ability to figure that out. What passed as the government here was at least able to pass around some educational material. This girl was a mech pilot too, so that was doubly bad.

"How do you not know?" Bolt had to ask as he stopped and turned to face the girl.

"Ain't piloting so I didn't bother. Poppa said that all I needed ta do is learn how fight." She replied with a shrug.

"But damage updates, radar reports, everything!" Bolt asked with a wave of both hands.

"Flashy lights, red dots, and feel." The girl looked proud of that.

"That's stupid!" Bolt practically shouted.

He didn't expect the punch thrown his way. He was a Rat however. Violence was part of life. He took the punch head on with barely a flinch and moved to grapple immediately, focusing on using his larger frame. To his complete surprise the girl wove around him effortlessly, and then leaped onto his shoulders. He had a brief moment of shock and then she wrenched her legs to the side and did flipped herself off.

Whatever the maneuver was supposed to do was hard to say. What it actually did was just rip his mask and part of the cloak he used to conceal his build off. It was mildly disorientating and a bit painful, but did little else. Bolt snarled as he turned to face his opponent and found her looking disappointed.

"No fair." She complained as she backed up.

"What the hell was that?!" Bolt snarled back.

"That should have brought you down! Also, you called me stupid!" The girl shot back.

"First, I'm probably twice your weight so of course that wouldn't work. Second, I said not learning how to read was stupid, not that you're stupid!" The young man snapped out in reply.

The words immediately calmed the girl. "Oh, that's ok then!" She nodded and looked up at him with a small flush. "Sorry, poppa said don't tolerate disrespect. I'm Lilly. Pleased ta meet ya!"

Completely caught off guard by the change in attitude Bolt rubbed at his head. "Oh, ahh." He fumbled harshly before grunting and refocusing his head. "I'm Bolt, but you didn't hear that from me." He reached down for the mask and cloak. "Damnit, the straps are broken." He muttered.

"Oh you don't need them. You can fix it later." Lilly grabbed at the items and got into a small tug of war with Bolt over them. "First, uh, show me the mechs!" She blurted out.

"Fine, fine. So long as ya don't mention this later." Bolt gave up on the mask and ignored the triumphant look the girl got. "We got a half dozen clunkers here at the moment, and a good dozen in storage elsewhere. All the ones here are medium and light. Our one heavy is elsewhere. Mind you, these are just salvaged mechs. None o' them will last against anything shiny."

"Shiny?" Lilly repeated as they began to walk through the bay.

"New mechs that the Royals come by in. Shiny and new." Bolt explained and gestured to the Frankenstein messes that were in front of him. "We do our best, but they're all flawed."

The one in front of him for instance was very technically a sword mech. Made up of a dozen different mech types, it had a half dozen obvious flaws and even more less obvious ones. It would run and was in Bolt's opinion better than anything else on the planet, but he held no illusions that it was shit.

"Poppa said I'd probably be best with a heavy. I'm supposed to be somethin' special and he wants me protected. Can't say I care that much. Am looking for somethin' that feels warm." Lilly commented as she looked over the things. "Can see what ya mean about the flaws though. That one will fall over if ya hit the knee." She pointed at the knee in question.

Bolt gave a grunt. "Good eye. Had to patch that from two types. Fraid you ain't gonna get anything real good unless ya want to pay the cheese for a new one." He laughed at that.

Lilly made a face. "If we had the cheese we wouldn't be here." She pointed out peevishly.

That she even thought it was an option was telling. Wrecker likely had enough connections that he could probably get something arranged. Bolt and his family knew for a fact that trying it on their end would end up with them in chains as a best result. History was not kind to lesser Rats. The young man put it out of his mind and continued the tour.

 

[ThunderBasilisk]

Absolutely never heard of this but its Mecha so it can't be a bad setting.

 

[TheGeneral03]

Absolutely never heard of this but its Mecha so it can't be a bad setting.

Click to shrink...

I found It pretty good of what i read. I drop It when a special hidden mechanic of mecha desing was presented to the novel. It was weird for me, i liked the concept in my mind but i could not stand reading about It. The mechanic was about focusing about certain ideas or concept through the desing fase, which would then give the mecha when build special features. Also the universe had some weird cultivation elements that somehow intermingle with mechas, i left to early to learn about It, just that the mechanic i mention had something to do with It, like the "cheat" of the mc. I Guess later on Will be like cultivators in mechs

 

[Evaunit02mark1]

Ah, I see Lily is a protagonist.

If Bolt was smart he'd throw her at the weirdest one in the lot and then have his whole clan relocate before she inevitably came back to recruit him to be her live in mechanic when it inevitably needs an upgrade.

 

[lost star]

There were six mechs in the bay. Three mediums, three lights. Had they been in pristine condition it would have been a rather massive force multiplier. These mechs were not that. Most Mech Designers and Pilots would have been horrified at the state of the machines. Junk mechs were rightfully disdained and even with Bolt's best effort the ones in the bay were simply functional rather than anything else. By the standards of the planet that was actually pretty good admittedly, but nothing to be proud of. It was still junk.

"Bad hip, arms are horrid for that frame, that one feels really cold." Lilly rattled off as she passed them and then squinted. "Is that one even functional?" She asked in mild confusion.

Bolt looked at the mech he'd just barely gotten online before this meeting. "Limbs show as green, the cockpit would have to be re-set and we'd have ta get the Operating System to recognize the new configuration." He responded with a shrug. "Could get it done in an hour or two and it'd work."

The girl stepped forward and held her palm to the foot of the mech before scrunching up her face in concentration. "Hmm. Doesn't feel as cold as most of em."

"Don't know what ya mean by cold, but it'd have the least problems once it was finished." Bolt gave a shrug. "Ain't a salesman so I can't rattle off much. Made it from I'd say about six different mechs, redid the legs twice, and armor is as sound as you can get these parts. It's a lightweight skirmisher by specs. Arms are better with melee weapons and we got a pair of daggers that should work."

"I can use anything, but light melee with that configuration is just askin' to get popped." Lilly gestured emphatically to the entire setup.

Bolt really had to agree. While he'd done the armor up best he could, but light mechs didn't have the omph for anything more than the basics. It was essentially a suicide mech, doubly so because there was nothing else to it. Just a pair of daggers and a higher than normal speed.

"If I had em I'd add some chaff grenades or somethin'." Bolt add with a small wince as he tried to imagine what would happen if the thing was used. "But we deal with what we have. Could add some slots for grenades and ya can buy em elsewhere?"

"Nope!" Lilly shook her head. "What 'bout the heavy in storage ya got?"

"Big gun boy. Prob the best of the lot. Actually pricy though." Bolt looked around and then gestured to a nearby terminal. "Since ya can't read I'll bring up the picture and ya can ask."

Lilly bounced over and leaned against the boy as he brought up the specifications. It was as he explained, a heavy artillery mech. Salvaging it had been a pain, but it was actually the closest to being a proper mech instead of a junker. It had heavy legs and back mounted mortar guns, with big guns on the arms. Solid, useful, and unimaginative.

"Ya'll don't sound happy when you describe it." Lilly said as Bolt finished explaining.

"Most mechs we make are all based on what we can find rather than what we want. We don't got fancy part printers, and even if we did we don't have the licensing to fix the stuff. Technically we shouldn't even be selling cause the MTA hasn't certified, but we're in a grey area." Bolt knew for a fact that the MTA was aware of them all, but so long as they didn't do something stupid the organization was content to ignore things. "So the best we can do is focus hard on the basics. All our stuff runs solid and off the fuel we use here, which is a whole 'nother mess."

Lilly poked him and frowned as she met his unamused gaze. "No, seriously, ya sound bored. I know I heard a bit of fire in there when you were talking about what you'd do."

"Hah. Thinking about what I could do is like..." Bolt trailed off and turned away. "I dunno why I'm even trying to talk about this."

Lilly leaned further into him. "Cause I'm cute and ya gotta get it off yer chest?"

The young man sighed and stared up at the mech. "So, this is gonna get a bit technical. I've been doing mechs since I could walk. I know the basics. I can run a power cable through the entire frame. I know what voltage each model outputs and can get all the little fiddly bits going. It's all kinda useless if I wanna do more."

"What would you mean by more?" The girl's voice was soft.

"Designing em. Actually building from scratch. Don't get me wrong, actually salvaging em is good, but more often than not all we do is slap whatever is compatible together as fast as possible. I've done some good ones, but most of em are boring and standard cause that's what works and what we need." Bolt stared down at his hands. "If I wanna build a shiny mech I can't do it with just this."

The girl grabbed one of them and grinned as she met his eyes. "Well then, what would you need?" She asked and frowned as he failed to respond. "No really."

Bolt had trouble keeping her gaze as he actually put his mind to it. "That'd be getting off the planet without getting press ganged into debt slavery or worse. Then it'd be getting into a proper education, which ain't happening cause while I can put together a mech in an hour I ain't got all the fancy grounding and education that'd work in one of them. Askin' me to write an essay would be like asking a pig to pilot a mech."

"Eh, reading is overrated and I've seen a few pigs pilot." Lilly chirped back with a wider grin.

That got a laugh from the young man. Then a terrible, terrible idea came to him. Bolt grabbed his companion's hands back and voiced it before reason got to him. "Yer special. One of those potentials right? What if I build you a mech? A proper one, just fer you! It'd be something special at least!"

"Why Bolt, that's a very bold proposal you know. We barely know each other!" The girl responded with teeth showing in her grin.

The young man sputtered as he dropped her hand like it was burning. "What?! That's not what I meant and you know it!"

"I totally accept. We'd make a great couple. You make my death machine, I bring the death! Make sure it has all the chrome plating and a heart with our names on it." Lilly brought her hands to her cheeks and gave a loud girlish sigh. "Imagine the tales they'd tell of our marriage! I'd want two kids and a white pike to stab everyone!"

"No, no, no knock it off right now! You're a pilot, and probably an important one based on what your father said. Even just dating would be a target on my back!" Bolt tried to stop her words with wild swings of his arms.

Lilly laughed. "Just teasing, mostly." She brushed her hair back and gave him a wink. "I would consider it a nice courting gift though. Medium, all the speed you can stuff into it and any weapons ya can salvage. I keep having to go solo against group or duels so work with that in mind. Make it feel warm and I'll even put a good word in with Poppa."

"Still don't know what you mean by warm." Bolt responded before he paused and closed his eyes. "And if you're actually serious I er... Wouldn't mind." He barely got the last words out.

Lilly leaped up and wrapped her arms around him before kissing him on the cheek and giving a giggle. "That'd be great! Until then, I'll tell poppa that we'll take the heavy. Ain't my style, but it'll make him happy and big booms can be fun."

The man barely heard her. He was just a bit lost in the kiss, and then what he'd done. Mechs were expensive damnit! He'd just promised her a veritable fortune!

 

[ThunderBasilisk]

Task failed successfully?

 

[Marethyu05]

Hmm interesting been a bit since i read Mech Touch, ive gotten through the first couple thousand chapters, but just haven't had the drive to finish it. I absolutely loved the beginning but do agree, it starts to drag by like ch 1200. The metaphysics of this universe are so interesting too. Is Bolt going to receive one of the missing pieces of the Metal Scroll or is he going to get the one that was supposed to go to Ves? My one piece of advice is to read your dialogue out loud. Make sure it sounds natural.

 

[lost star]

Momma didn't raise no quitter. Bolt kept that in mind as he went about his day. Once Wrecker and his daughter had left, things had mostly gone back to normal. He had Lilly's contact information and a discrete way to contact her in a spare comm unit. He'd shown her how to do text-to-speech, and the girl had promised to try to learn how to read using it to help. All he had to do now was get the parts for the mech.

Hah, look at him thinking that. All he had to do. As if getting the parts wasn't the hardest part of the whole endeavor.

The surface of the planet was a blasted wasteland. Dusty with almost no vegetation, the only reason it wasn't a desert was the lack of sand. Frequent bombardment and mech battles had killed almost everything resembling life in most of the more trafficked areas. On sunny days it was a hot and hellish daymare. If the wind picked up, sand and grit got into everything. If it rained, the land became such a quagmire that even mechs had trouble moving. Walking on foot was during the rain was an elaborate form of suicide. Rats lived underground for a variety of reasons, the land was one of them.

Life still existed of course. There were a few valleys filled with greenery outside of the typical battlefields, and a few farms provided feed stock for a variety of ration makers. His clan had one, and there were more dotting the planet, all of them carefully hidden away so that the various invaders didn't decide they were strategic targets.

All of this made the fact that the vast majority of the planet was ruined worse. The planet was a wasteland of humanity's own making. If Bolt didn't need parts he wouldn't have been out here at all. No one sane would.

He could picture the alternative now. Some fancy designer in an air conditioned room could press a button on their fancy expensive touch screen, and then they'd get it assembled right in front of their eyes. They wouldn't even have to get their hands dirty! Not like poor little Bolt. No, Bolt had to go out with a mechanical mule and slave away.

The man laughed at himself and adjusted his mask. No sense in envy. As amusing as it would be to picture someone from an elite college in his position it was pointless. You dealt with the scrap you had, not what you could see others using. He tapped the controls for his mechanical mule and began to walk down the rocks and through a particular path towards his destination. There was a battlefield nearby that he could scavenge from and every minute outside was another minute of danger. Not much since there wasn't a war, but enough to mean that dawdling was a bad idea. Other Rats could be just as deadly as any foreigners.

His destination wasn't much to look at really. If you had seen one battlefield you had seen them all. Metal littered the area, and there was the distinct scent of cooling fluid, oil, and spent explosives. The only thing that made it different than a battlefield of old was the lack of human bodies. Mech battles, for all their violence, didn't result in extensive casualties. Even the worst mechs were designed to protect the pilot. From ejection seats to armor plating to shock absorbers, it took dedicated effort to kill a pilot.

Bolt passed by one mech and winced through his mask. There was also a more grim reason for more bodies. A hit from a mech typically obliterated the pilot if it hit the guy, like the one poor victim in the obvious spot. Looked like a lancer hit right into the cockpit. Not the best way to go, but quick at least.

His loss was Bolt's gain though. The salvager scrambled closer to the downed mech and peered into the hole. One clean strike right through the cockpit. Nasty and brutal, but also clean in a way. There was no blood, just a hole where the pilot would be. This was a very large prize even if the mech itself was rather shitty. They could get this working within an hour with minimal work.

"Got a brain-dead mech here." Bolt called out over the radio. "Tagging it."

Family would take it and fix it up before selling it cheap. He wasn't going to use any of it for Lilly though. Bad luck, and poor fit. The design looked like a lightweight knight, which was a rather stupid decision in his opinion, but it was likely just a guard for someone important based off what he could see on the battlefield.

He found a severed mech hand later that confirmed his analysis. The hand was expensive, with high quality, articulated fingers. A swordsman mech's hand based off how it was configured. Bolt immediately hefted that onto the mule for later.

What most non-techs didn't know was that swordman's hands were the best of all the classifications. They had to heft heavy weapons that required delicate movements with the fingers. If you did not do the fingers right the mechs were just waving slabs of metal around like sticks instead of the artful movements you needed for a proper sword fight. Sword users were very particular about that and a high quality one was very rare. It was a great find.

No other parts around though, which painted an interesting picture. Bolt circled around the area and tried to simulate the battle in his head. Assume two sides. A swordman vs a lancer with fodder on each side. The lancer took out the fodder first and how did it manage to get the hand off?

An ejection seat answered who won at least. It was a fair distance away from the hand, expensive, and similar in design to the swordman hand. Ejection seats weren't meant to be re-used, but his family had long since cracked how to change that, so it went on the pile. It wasn't that valuable. It was useful enough to take.

This was a fantastic haul already. Just the cored mech alone would give them a hefty hunk of cheese. All Biters loved that sort of thing for their shitty pilots. The other parts were a good start to a wide variety of possibilities that Bolt was already running through in his head.

Bolt paused in his circling as he noticed something buried in the distance. A few commands to his mech mule and a shovel had it unearthed in short order. The result was surprising. A mech's head. Older model, but better than any he'd seen. The chin and neck was gone, but the upper part was practically pristine. The sensors in the eyes were almost perfect. He'd never seen anything so advanced. (Only third rate, outdated mechs were used to fight on the planet. An elite mech part, even from a third rate state was more than a match.)

Something about it twigged his sense of danger though. He couldn't tell what. The part was weathered right. There weren't signs of sabotage. The surroundings were as secured as an area could be. Something just screamed at him that there was something wrong. His mind said everything was fine, but his gut said danger. It was like there was a looming mech just waiting for him to take the bait.

Thoroughly unnerved Bolt backed away. He grabbed his binoculars of the mule held them up to his mask. He surveyed the area with them quickly and then stepped away from the prize. Nothing was on the horizon, and the sensors in the mule weren't picking up anything. He was still very, very spooked.

"Shit," Bolt looked at the part again. "Damnit, if I didn't need it I'd be leavin' it." He muttered and rummaged for something specific. "Come on dum-dum."

Eventually he found the child-sized drone and pulled it out. He set it on the ground and the machine trundled forward towards the buried head. After a few minutes of careful direction it managed to burrow under and get a look at the underside of the part.

"Where else would they put a boom?" The young man muttered to himself as he directed the drone around.

More than one scavenger had gotten killed because someone had left a present behind. It was not uncommon for explosives or worse to be planted behind for one reason or another. Dum-dum was Bolt's answer to that. Other scavengers had other ways, up to and including just sending someone stupid to get the part. (They had far too many of those.)

After a long moment Bolt had to conclude that he was jumping at nothing. The part was perfectly fine for a part. He didn't have the time to indulge his paranoia anymore.

The head went onto the mule and he continued to scavenge. An idea was coming to his head as to the configuration. He needed another good hand, and one of the broken swordman blades that littered the area. They were usually too much of a hassle to salvage, but the tempered metal would be perfect for his needs.

Lightyears away from the boy another being watched his actions through a spying device that had been placed long, long ago in orbit. Interesting. Human intuition always had ways of surprising them. What had tipped the boy off? There were plenty of small clues that the part had been planted, but they would have all required sensors that the boy did not have.

Was one of their experiments was getting results? It was hard to say as of yet. The boy and his family had not been directly introduced into the variables, but that was the point of doing real world tests. What to do then?

The figure made several orders after a few seconds of thought. It was too early to say this was worth their true attention, but it was a trivial effort to order others to take the time to properly monitor things. They'd have a report and eyes on the planet shortly. Perhaps it would become worth actual time later. Right now it was a footnote of a footnote.

Decision made, the being moved onto other things. Thousands upon thousands of monitors sprang to life and they began to watch for anomalies once more. One, two, ten, one hundred, it didn't matter. They'd find their answers eventually.

 

[Emptiness]

X-factor: Malice of the Prideful Fall.

This Mech component still lingers with the rage of it's former pilot, an rather prideful and important pilot from outside the Bright Republic.
His lingering malice towards the "Trash piloted by Rats" that proved his downfall still suffuses this head, and will affect any mech it is a part of.

 

[ThunderBasilisk]

Things be moving in the background it seems