The Mech Touch

The fateful day had come.

Red humanity had approached the precipice of change that would resound across their entire society.

Although it sounded ridiculous that a single faction of an umbrella organization that only partially represented its own civilization could single-handedly enact massive unilateral changes, the Survivalists truly possessed the ability to push forth their own vision.

Their reputation, their preparedness, their connections and above all their single-minded dedication to their overarching mission may just be enough to convince the rest of red humanity to go along with one of their radical plans.

When the final conference sessions came to a conclusion, everyone returned to their assigned cabins and staterooms.

They either spent their time on resting, meditating, networking or madly reading up on highly relevant pieces of information.

None of these people wanted to get caught off-guard and embarrass themselves on what might be the most important and historic day of their civilization.

Ves was no exception. Although he did not think anyone would bother to pay much attention to him after the novelty of his recent promotion wore off, it was best not to look or act too stupid when the Survivalists would likely be recording the historic process for posterity.

This was why he decided to take a break and enjoy a proper night's sleep.

He was grateful for this decision. Not only did he feel completely refreshed, his head was no longer in a jumbled mess due to being confronted by all of the massive changes in his life.

"This is the first day of my life as a tier 3 galactic citizen. It feels... different."

Ves did not fret too much over what might happen later today. Even if he somehow managed to become an honorary member of the Red Association, he knew that it was impossible for a random newcomer like him to wield any outsized influence and authority over his fellow 'mechers'.

The true cadre of the Survivalist Faction already looked up to their own leaders. They took their cues from the three faction leaders or their chosen representatives.

Only the more neutral and uncommitted Survivalists were a bit scattered, but they most definitely leaned on their own long-time friends within the Association.

Ves did not have any illusions about being able to sway any of these older and much more established mechers to support a specific plan.

His vaunted 'Devil Tongue' would not avail him when pretty much every high-ranking member of the Red Association could easily match or exceed his persuasive efforts!

He frankly felt embarrassed by this old title. He would much prefer it if everyone conveniently forgot about it. Being addressed as 'Professor Larkinson' sounded a lot more professional and dignified. It might not sound as unique or exciting as his old moniker, but it helped him a lot with adjusting to a more mature and less impulsive mindset.

He could no longer afford to act like a swashbuckling adventurer who constantly made reckless decisions and joined in every single serious fight.

No. A tier 3 galactic citizen like himself belonged in a workplace, a lecture hall or a council chamber.

Ves put careful thought into what might happen during the all-important voting session and concluded that it was best to keep his mouth shut and to cast his vote without any comment.

To be honest, he hadn't even made up his mind yet on which plan he intended to vote upon. All of them had their good points and bad points. This made it different to settle on a definite choice as none of them matched his inclinations.

He even felt it might be better if the three faction leaders came together and hashed out a compromise plan that incorporated the best aspects of their collective ideas.

There was no push to make this happen, though. For one reason or another, the Survivalists became determined to go all-in on just a single plan. No distractions were allowed to dilute or counteract their main strategy.

"There is no room for doubt and ambiguity." Jovy said as he patiently ate his breakfast. "We need to appoint a single leader that can serve as our guide to the future. It is much easier to convey and to communicate a single cohesive approach than to mix-and-match multiple different elements from multiple different strategies. The more complicated the plan, the more difficult it will be to get the rest of humanity in line."

"Our Association has accrued a lot of experience in dealing with the masses." Osman Carter-Tezrein spoke as he sat on the other side of the breakfast table. "Many of our leaders think that complicated plans and speeches have a tendency to go right over most people's heads. They are not entirely wrong, but I think they are giving ordinary folk too little credit."

Kelly Herrera briefly displayed a contemptuous sneer. "The more components to a plan, the greater the chances that the space peasants will misinterpret or try to weasel their way out of their new obligations. We must make it loud and clear what we expect from them if we want them to behave."

"It's not the masses that we need to convince, but the people in charge of them." Polak Neziri provided his own insight. "The Terran and Rubarthan leaders in particular will need a lot of convincing to act according to our arrangements. Any element of the Unity Plan will be sure to trigger a great degree of opposition. Whether it will get through or not, you should either go all-in on this strategy or try to avoid it as much as possible. Trying to settle for a middle ground will only result in obtaining the worst of both worlds."

Ves and joined up with Jovy and a handful of his friends in a private room attached to one of the many restaurants within the Khamatar Reign.

The way that the other mechers treated Ves had undergone a lot of subtle changes, but they were still alright for the most part.

Ves continued to listen to the chatter, though he refrained from providing too much of his own opinions.

Once they completed their breakfast, Ves bid goodbye to Jovy's Journeyman pals.

Although the difference in status had widened enormously in a short amount of time, Ves did not think there was any reason to reject any further contact with them. They were all geniuses in their own right and might become a lot more impressive in a couple of decades.

Ves did not actually have to wait that long in order to collaborate with any of them. He already had plenty of ambitious design projects in mind where he could make fantastic use of their specializations.

However, designing mechs was not on the agenda today. He needed to assume the role of a statesman today, and that was kind of funny because he never imagined he would become one when he was just in his forties.

Every other statesman he met in his life were at least twice as old as him and a lot more politically savvy than he could ever be. These were the expert manipulators and administrators who could effortlessly shape the policies of entire states and more.

Ves was still too far from reaching that point, but he did not have to undertake all of those responsibilities right from the start.

In order to prepare for the final voting session that was scheduled to commence at noon, Ves first needed to undergo an elaborate wardrobe change as well as a makeover.

Jovy led him to a different department of the Khamatar Reign where multiple leading figures entered salons and such in order to receive the best care they needed at this time.

Ves happened to possess an elevated degree of control over his own body after his recent sublimation, so nothing needed to be done to his skin and such.

At best, a bot flew over so that it could meticulously comb and arrange his hairstyle to make him look older and more mature.

The more interesting part of this preparation session was the selection of his wardrobe.

Everyone with voting rights needed to look the part. It turned out that it was far from adequate to go inside while wearing a simple business suit or lab coat. There had to be a strong sense of ceremony, and that meant that everyone needed to look at their present best, but dialed up to eleven!

This was why a small team of fashion designers and bots buzzed about around him as they materialized and examined different clothing designs.

Fortunately, the professionals intended to cut and sew the final version of the ensemble by hand. The mechers hadn't completely lost their appreciation for premium craftsmanship.

"What do you think about this look, Ves?"

"It's too excessive." Ves shook his head as he was currently wearing multiple layers of fabric that was loosely based off his Larkinson dress uniform. "There is too much gilding on my outfit. I get why you would want to embellish my look, but this simply looks gaudish to me. I will attract far more attention than I am comfortable with. There is no need for all of this gold. Just stick to the basic red-and-white pattern of my clan. I won't look nearly as impressive, but that is the point. I don't want to outshine the other mechers who are much more senior than me. The only touch of gold that I am comfortable with adding to my outfit is the logo of my clan."

Jovy could see the point in a more understated look, but he felt it would be a missed opportunity if Ves stuck to a cautious approach.

"The image that you will present yourself today will be recorded throughout history. Years from now, you will become a much greater mech designer than now, but the majority of people who have heard about you will remain stuck with an impression of yourself that carries much less weight. Are you sure you want to go through with this approach?"

"I am sure. I have already raised my profile as high as it is. I don't want to give off the appearance that I have let all of my recent successes inflate my ego. Let's go for quiet elegance."

"Very well..."

Though the clothiers did not entirely approve of Ves' choice, they worked to translate his demands as best as possible.

Ves became quite satisfied at the end. The final design took a bit too much inspiration from the ceremonial robes of certain well-known traditional faiths than he was comfortable with, but there were good reasons why those designs withstood the test of time.

In the end, he most definitely looked like he deserved to vote on the future course of red humanity without going overboard!

"Damn, all of these layers of clothing can get in the way." He said as he experimentally swung his limbs and paced around the room. "I'm glad they don't wrinkle or make me feel too stuffy. Is that all, or do I need a crown as well to complete my look?"

"Do you want to wear a crown?" Jovy asked with genuine curiosity.

"Hell no! Let's leave the topic of headwear aside, please."

"Suit yourself. Anyway, we do need to add one more piece to complete your look. Please give me a moment."

Jovy moved to a different room and returned a minute later.

This time, he held a gilded wooden in both of his hands as if he was carrying a peerless treasure.

Once Jovy stopped in front of Ves, the mechers adopted a formal posture and respectfully opened the decorative box.

"Please accept your final accoutrement."

A large badge resting on a soft pillow inside the box. It was shaped like the logo of the Red Association: a knight mech with red flames in the background while surrounded by twelve red planets.

The only variation to this familiar image was the three prominent glowing red stars embedded just above the stylized knight mech.

This was not an ordinary badge.