Humanity's Greatest Mecha Warrior System-Novel

Max found himself seated between Nico and her mother for dinner, at the head table, while Dave laughed at him from the next table over, seated between Molly and Max’s little sisters. On the other side of Nico sat Generals Yaakov and Ming, with a woman in her late thirties sitting between them flirting with General Yaakov.

The General looked quite smitten with his much younger suitor, but given that Max could tell that they both had rather powerful systems, they didn’t look too different in age and could have many decades or even a century together before old age overcame them.

Neither were Alpha Ranked for System Compatibility, so multiple centuries might be asking too much, but they could certainly make it to at least a hundred and fifty before they started looking and feeling truly elderly.

That was the paradox of Military life. Your body was still technically quite young, based on its maximum, but after fifty or sixty years at war, you were ready to retire, call it quits and never hold a rifle or wear a uniform again.

General Yaakov had been at that point before they had even taken on the mission to test the experimental Mecha, and was supposed to be using it as a final commendation to cap off his career.

General Ming was no younger, but he enjoyed his work and hadn’t often been on the front lines of combat, as the Inquisitors worked mostly behind the scenes. That had left him mentally fit for many more years of duty, and looking forward to all of them.

Max wondered how he would be in fifty more years as a Mecha Pilot. These first few were pretty crazy with civil war and Rebellion spreading through the Empire. Still, there was a chance things would either calm down later or break down so much that a decades-long ceasefire would be declared to let everyone get themselves reorganized again.

“So, Max, what are your plans once you have dropped off the family and the refugees on Rae 5?” Mary Tarith asked.

“You know I’m just the figurehead, General Yaakov makes all the big decisions in committee with his Command staff,” Max replied, not wanting to undermine the General in any official capacity when he was sitting only two chairs away.

“Oh, you didn’t hear? I suppose they’re too busy flirting for their thoughts to be on anything long-term right now.” Mary laughed, catching the attention of General Yaakov and his suitor.

“Madam Tarith, I believe I heard my name.” The General asked, leaning forward so he could see her more easily.

“You did. It seems you haven’t shared the news with your staff yet.” Mary answered, and Max saw the truth in General Yaakov’s thoughts.

“I was saving it for tomorrow’s staff meeting. The paperwork has been done for months, there was just not a suitable spot for it.” The General answered with dignity.

His retirement was already official, to become effective the moment that he left active duty of his own volition. He had chosen to depart Terminus along with Gwen Tarith, the woman next to him when they reached Rae 5, and use his savings along with hers to set up a restaurant in the newly established Captial.

By Kepler Military Doctrine, the Colonel in charge of the First Battalion took over a Regiment that lost its leader without an official replacement, so unless Max declined the honor, the role would go to him. Their ties to the Empire were becoming a bit tenuous, given the situation, but Max was still a proper Colonel, and this was still a proper Mecha Regiment, even if they were somewhat unorthodox.

In Max’s past life, such units were much more common. The Mecha pilots were lauded as heroes, and given all sorts of perks and benefits befitting the highest in society. That meant that opulent rooms, nonexistent discipline, and groupies were the standard, not Military regulations and strictly tiered Unit assignments.

In fact, every Mecha in Max’s past life, as far as he could remember, was personalized. A one-off unit that was built for a specific person, who then passed them down through their family or through the prodigies that they trained.

He had experience dealing with those sorts, and getting them to work together, and his memories had almost all returned, except a small portion that was still locked away for some reason, but it was enough to give him the confidence that he could be a good leader to this unit as long as they remained together.

“With the General retiring, that might shake things up a little, wouldn’t it? Maybe encourage some rapid decisions, and move things along to the next step?” Mary asked Max suggestively.

“Mother, I already told you, you have to wait if you want us married. It’s not the time for that yet, no matter how much you want grandchildren.” Nico reminded her.

Max sighed and rubbed his temples. This was why he was dreading coming here. Mary Tarith had no filter, or at least she refused to use the one she had, and she really, really wanted grandchildren, even before her youngest was old enough to have joined the academy.

“If you were in such a hurry to have grandchildren, perhaps you shouldn’t have waited a decade between the first and second attempts at children. You could have increased the odds much earlier.” Max pointed out.

“Bah, don’t you think I tried? That husband of mine is sneaky, he would find excuses to be out of town on my fertile days so that he, and I quote, wasn’t drowned in children.” Mary grumbled, making a man sitting across from Dave laugh.

Max hadn’t noticed, but it was Nico’s elusive father. Max had no idea what the man actually did for a living, only that he was very good at making himself inconspicuous, even to Max, who could read the thoughts of everyone around him. Right now, the man was entirely focused on dinner and talking to Dave, with no hint of other thoughts in his mind.

That was entirely too suspicious. He had just been called out for his behavior, surely it would cross his mind for more than a moment, but as far as Max could tell it didn’t. He would have to ask Nico about it later.