Though the work was rather tedious and time-consuming, Ves and the other Journeymen enjoyed restoring their expert mechs.
Not a lot of time had passed since the powerful machines had been built, so everyone involved in the repair and refit operation were still familiar with their designs.
This helped a lot with implementing targeted upgrades. Even so, the Journeymen made sure to limit the scope of their revisions to strengthening the internals. Any other changes demanded a lot more modeling and simulation testing in order to make sure that none of them detracted from the performance of the important expert mechs.
While Ketis spent most of her time on fixing up the First Sword, the rest allocated their time as evenly as possible.
The Riot was in a particularly poor shape, so Ves, Gloriana and Juliet spent a lot of hours slowly putting the expert mech back together.
They painstakingly designed a strengthened internal architecture that made express use of the high-quality exotics derived from salvaged dwarven expert mechs and slowly reconstructed Venerable Orfan’s proud machine step by step.
Ves sometimes had the illusion that he was building an entirely new Riot. So much of the mech had to be reconstructed from scratch that it was hard to imagine that it was still the same expert mech that he had initially brought into this reality.
“Ever heard about the Ship of Theseus?” Gloriana asked as she petted Clixie while they took a break.
“Miaow~”
“No.”
Lucky had been making himself scarce ever since he got caught eating portions of the Paravad, so Ves decided to push Blinky out of his mind and use his companion spirit as a petting object instead.
Mrow!
“Stay put, Blinky!”
Mrow mrow!
“The Ship of Theseus is a classic thought experiment.” His wife explained when she predictably learned that Ves never heard of it. “Imagine a small frigate called the Theseus that has been in use for an extended period of time. Her captain is an adventurer explorer who often flies through hazardous regions. With each completed journey, the Theseus returns to civilization and undergoes repairs. Her hull plating, her propulsion system, her life support system, her FTL drive and every other ship part and system gets replaced over time. Let’s say that one century after she initially went into service, not a single original component of the initial frigate is left. Every single part down to the keel has been replaced over the course of her service. Is she still the original Theseus?”
That was indeed an interesting thought experiment to Ves. He understood why it became a classic.
Still, unlike many other people, Ves had a clear answer in his mind. He just needed to look at the current state of the Riot to provide an answer that completely matched how he perceived his own work.
“I think the identity of something is more of an abstract notion than a material quality.” He began. “Think about the Shield of Samar. It initially started off as the first production copy of our old Aurora Titan design. Over the course of its service with Venerable Jannzi, we upgraded it four times by my counting. You don’t get to evolve a third-class mech into a second-class prime mech without replacing all of the cheap and weak parts that worked fine in the Bright Republic but are wholly insufficient to keep up with the battles we tend to fight these days.”
Gloriana looked thoughtful as she lifted Clixie up in order to rub her furry belly.
“Is the Shield of Samar truly the same mech to you, or are you just claiming that to fool Venerable Jannzi?”
Ves shook his head. “I don’t joke around when it comes to matters like that. I’m a professional. In my judgement, the Shield of Samar is the exact same mech as before because its living element has always remained the same. I have witnessed it grow from just a regular mech to a formidable prime mech that feels more alive than any other machine. Only the Quint can give it a run for its money, but in terms of age and time progression the Shield of Samar is the undisputed champion. It is the oldest continuous mech in service in our fleet.”
His wife looked quite impressed with his statement. “If the Shield of Samar is already this impressive, what will happen to it when it becomes ten years older? A hundred years older?”
“Even I can’t imagine how strong it will become.” Ves carefully answered. “One of the core principles of my design philosophies is that my living mechs all have an opportunity to grow and evolve into something greater than their initial state. It’s the same for humans like us. When we are born, we’re so small and vulnerable. Give us a couple of decades, and we can become so powerful and capable that we can lead entire organizations!”
He smiled as he gazed at Gloriana’s stomach. His first-born child was developing nicely and was growing spiritually stronger and firmer with each passing day. His future daughter’s companion spirit was also developing vigorously.
“There has to be limits to growth.” His wife countered. “Humans can’t live forever. It’s not a leap to assume that mechs can’t last forever. Where there is growth, there is also decline.”
“You’re right. I don’t deny the possibility that living mechs only have a limited amount of life potential before they reach their respective limits. None of my mechs are old enough to ever come close to that point, though. I think they can easily last for at least a century as long as they are constantly taken care of, not that this will happen often. It’s a lot easier to replace older mechs with newer ones than to expend an exponentially greater effort to renew the same mech all of the time. Even I don’t think it is realistic to give the same treatment that the Shield of Samar enjoys to every mech in the Larkinson Clan.”
His wife looked surprised at that. “Don’t you advocate for the use of sustainable mechs? You once told me that one of my ambitions is to change the way that owners and users treat their mechs. You wanted to move away from people replacing their old mechs and encourage them to stick with them year after year.”
“I haven’t changed my mind about that, but considering how mechs are used by many different people and organizations, this is not an economical choice for everyone. It costs a lot of money to constantly renew the same mech so that they can keep up with the pace of technological advancement. Every major leap in mech generation entails a thorough transformation in tech, materials and standards. It’s a lot easier and cheaper for clients to just replace their lastgen stock with the latest models.”
Ves never thought he could convince every single person to embrace his vision. This was also why he mainly set his sights on the premium segment of the mech market and up. Only those who were willing to invest in their mechs were the most suitable target audience for his products.
“If you truly intend to continue your investment in the Shield of Samar, I’d imagine that it will undergo so many physical transformations that it becomes increasingly harder to justify that it is still the same mech. Perhaps its personality and its character are the same, but its meaning to everyone else has become completely different. Is it still justifiable for it to be called by the same name in that case?”
This was a more ambiguous question, and one that Ves could not answer immediately. “I think it becomes a definition issue at that point. However, even if everyone else truly thinks of a century-old Shield of Samar in a different light, what do the opinions of others matter? Its pilot and its closest partner will always regard it as the same mech, no matter whether it started off as an ordinary third-class mech or has reached the apex of what mechs can become!”
“If the Shield of Samar has become a god mech, then it has become a completely different existence.” Gloriana quietly said as she slowly scratched Clixie’s ears. “Gods and mortals exist on separate levels, you know. No matter who you used to be when you were still human, once you become a god, you embrace a different identity. Nobody knows who the Superior Mother was before she ascended to become a Supreme. Her mortal name has become dust and forgotten.”
Ves snorted. “That’s not true. Her name is Cynthia and she used to raise me for a couple of years before she decided to leave me behind without finishing the job.”
Both Gloriana and Clixie stared silently at him after he said those words.
“Miaow.”
The Ship of Theseus was an interesting thought experiment, but Ves and Gloriana still had a lot of work to do. They stopped talking about useless philosophy and turned their attention back to what really mattered.
After several weeks of diligent work, three of the four Larkinson expert mechs not only became as good as new again, but also acquired crucial internal defense upgrades!
Though the revisions were a bit too rushed and modest for Gloriana’s tastes, Ves insisted on prioritizing efficiency.
“The Bulwark Project and the Chimera Project need our presence. Our design teams can’t keep working on them without our guidance.” He told his wife. “Venerable Joshua and Venerable Jannzi can’t wait much longer. Let’s strive to finish their expert mechs in two months.”
Gloriana looked uncertain. “That is cutting it close…”
“It’s doable, I think. The hundreds of assistant mech designers haven’t been doing nothing all this time. They have performed more than enough prep work to accelerate our own design tasks. I’m quite eager to get back in the saddle and complete this design round!”
Now that the Dark Zephyr and the other Larkinson expert mechs had been fixed, it was time for Ves to make a decision about his future plans.
Enough time had passed for the rest of the Larkinson Clan and its allies to complete their own repairs.
Many ships that had incurred major damage but managed to limp back to the Amswick System had received hasty and improvised repairs. Given that many of them were dispensable, their owners did not insist on bringing them back in peak condition. It was fine as long as the vessels lasted long enough to reach the gate system.
Even a more critical starship like the Graveyard had to make do with jury-rigged repair work. The Larkinsons essentially prioritized haste by slapping makeshift plating onto the damaged hull sections. This caused the scrappy capital ship to look like an even messier patchwork vessel!
Still, according to all of the calculations, the interim solutions should hold, so Ves was willing to trust that the repairs were sufficient enough for the Graveyard to travel onwards.
“Even if something goes wrong and she gets lost in the higher dimensions, at least it won’t affect me. I’ll be staying safe and sound in the Spirit of Bentheim.” Ves smirked.
Yet before he could think about resuming the expeditionary fleet’s journey to the beyonder gate, he still had to take care of another matter.
He left the Spirit of Bentheim and shuttled over to the Blinding Banshee. The odd, thin capital ship always weirded him out. Her hull was so long and skinny that he was always afraid that it would snap in half one day.
When Ves stepped aboard the ship, Calabast and Arnold were already there to greet his arrival.
“You can spare the pleasantries, Calabast.” He said as he briskly strode forward. “You know why I’m here. Bring me to brig.”
“We have several brigs, Ves.” The spymaster smirked. “It might not look like it, but my ship can hold tens of thousands of prisons. We can even convert her into a hotel if you don’t mind the lack of space.”
Ves gave her another measured look. This time, she no longer teased him and brought him straight towards his desired destination.
They entered a large but narrow brig compartment. Small and barren cells lined both sides of a narrow hallway.
When Ves walked up to one of the cells, he looked straight through the one-way energy screen to examine its current occupant.
A listless dwarven mech pilot sat on his cot while he was bored out of his skull. Almost a month had gone by without anything happening. The boredom and isolation had long worn out his personality.
Ves grinned at the sight.
There were hundreds more dwarven soldiers locked in the other cells on the Blinding Banshee! That was plenty for what he had in mind!
“Hehehe…”
