三亚足疗带小活价格

"So I’m not good enough?"

"You are a very fine client, Mr. Larkinson, but older and more renowned people and organizations offer much more certainty. Any Kinner mercenary corps will know what to expect when they plead fealty to clients with records that go back decades."

In other words, Ves was largely a question mark in the eyes of the Kinner tribesmen. Who knew whether he would rise to success or run his career into the ground the next five years?

He didn’t blame the Kinners for their reticence. They took their oaths and obligations seriously, so it was exceptionally important they went to bed with a client who would still be around for years to come.

"What about the Kinners with looser standards?" Gavin asked. "I’ve noticed that not all of the reps seem as picky as you suggest."

"You’ve heard what they offered. It’s not as good as the others." Their guide gestured with her hand. "To be honest, even if every Kinner mercenary corps can be relied upon to fulfill their mission faithfully, not all of them are as skilled, lucky and fortunate as the ones who get to demand higher conditions. The mercenary sector is an inherently risky business. A single setback can wipe out an entire decade’s worth of progress. Sometimes, even Kinners have had enough. They’re more than willing to sell themselves to a reasonable client in order to hang up their mercenary coats."

Gavin smirked. "They’re also considerably cheaper than the more successful Kinner outfits. I think we can find some good bargains among those who are tired of working for different clients every few months."

Though Gavin had a good point, Ves wasn’t sure whether that was a good idea. "The less demanding Kinners tend to suffer from several problems, though. We’ve met outfits that are stuck with damaged mechs or ships, lost half of their mech pilots, suffer from low morale and so on. I’m all for saving shaving a few bright credits from the final bill, but I don’t want to deal with too much dysfunction."

"Let us explore Ornament Halls for the mercenary corps you feel more comfortable with employing, then." Kelandra announced. "I think I know just the outfits that will meet your needs!"

The group spent several hours talking to various mercenary reps. Ves encountered outfits with names such as Stellar Blaze Flyers, Alfarin’s Alphas, Bloodstone Bloodstriders, Huntsmen in Black and more.

A few of them seemed suitable to Ves. Although he didn’t sign them up right then, Gavin noted down their contact information so they could always get back to the outfits if they made a decision.

Still, as much as Ves found each of these Kinner mercenary corps suitable to escort him, he still found something lacking.

When Kelandra noticed his hesitation and asked him about what he missed, Ves hesitated over his words.

"It’s different to describe. I guess I’m just trying to find a spark between us. I don’t want to be surrounded with faceless, unfeeling guards all the time."

"I think I know what you mean." The guide said thoughtfully. "You are looking for protectors who can be your companions as well as your guards."

"Right. Rather than serving me because of their oaths or their contractual obligations, I want my protective detail to care about me and my mission."

"Most of these Kinners give the impression that they know nothing about life except fighting and training." Gavin concurred. "They’re very dedicated, of that I have no doubt, but they’re too different from the mech pilots we’re used to back home."

Kelandra ruefully shrugged. "It’s all they know. Too many of our children grow up in massive camps. Too many of them are born from cold, heartless artificial wombs instead of actual mother’s wombs. We try to give them the life they deserve, but our resources can only be stretched so far."

The somewhat crude Kinners gave Ves the impression of elite mech pilots but without the impeccable skills. They dedicated their life to the mercenary life primarily due to their upbringing, not because of their own choice.

Was there anything wrong with that? Not necessarily. The Kinners may possess a distinctive culture that compelled them to dedicate their lives to service, but at least they possessed a lot more personality than the elites Ves encountered before.

The Kinners were quite capable of finding reasons to live. Even when they were deprived of many of the amenities that Brighters and other people took for granted, they still faced their lives with hope.

If not for themselves, then at least for their children.

Yet even so, Ves still found them to be lacking in some way.

They continued to approach and chat with different Kinner representatives. Ves did not express too much interest in them because they were simply more of the same.

It wasn’t until they approached the thirtieth or so representative that Ves looked up a bit. His spiritual senses, which he put on a low blast, suddenly encountered a notable presence.

While he had encountered a handful of mech pilots with spirituality, they mostly turned out to be rather anemic. Even if the Kinners enjoyed better training, it was doubtful if they would ever be able to develop a force of will.

Not so for the man who sat on his chair with a dour expression. Although his demeanor did not do him a lot of favors in attracting interested clients, to Ves the man practically shone in the dark.

This was a man with an uncommonly high degree of spirituality for a normal mech pilot! In fact, in terms of magnitude, he could even put some expert candidates to shame!

Yet with such abnormal strength, Ves clearly recognized that the man had not developed anything close to a force of will.

"Who is he?" Ves asked his guide.

Kelandra followed his gaze and clicked her tongue when she saw who had caught her client’s interest.

"He’s.. a bit notorious among us Kinners. He’s not a mere representative, but the commander of his own outfit."

"That’s unusual. Mercenary commanders don’t show up here in person."

"Because they have better things to do. The only reason why the commander is here is because his mercenary corps is in disgrace."

"Tell me more."

Though Kelandra seemed reluctant, Ves nonetheless insisted.

"His name is Oryn Mair. He used to be a member of one of our famed tribal corps, the Hundred-and-Seventeen Blades. The Blades are some of our best swordsman mech pilots in the tribe. Each of them are renowned swordmasters, both in person and in the cockpit."

The revelation surprised Ves quite a bit. "Why is Commander Mair hanging around at these halls if he possesses such a good background?"

"He screwed up." Kelandra said succinctly. "The Hundred-and-Seventeen Blades only fields 117 mechs and mech pilots in total. That is unusually small for a tribal corps but that is also why they are regarded as one of our premier elites. The Blades have developed an elaborate and complicated procedure to allow for new mech pilots to take the place of the old ones. Oryn Mair was the son of a Blade, and he’s been training all his life to take over the seat of his father."

"I take it that went wrong."

"Very much so. His training results are excellent and his dedication is not in question. Yet to become an honored Blade, more is needed. A Blade must be capable of fulfilling the same kind of missions that a regular Kinner mercenary is supposed to complete. Full with confidence, Mair threw himself into these missions. It went wrong right away. He failed to stop a suicide mech from bypassing his machine, allowing it to blow up and take out the client’s life."

Ves frowned. That did sound serious. "What was the consequence?"

"The client died, so Mair failed the mission in the worst possible way. After numerous investigations, it turned out that Mair spent too much time in the simulator pods and lacked too much sleep. He had been maintaining this pattern for several days despite being on the job. According to the logs of his own mechs, his responsiveness dove off a cliff and he momentarily dozed out just as the assassination attempt went through."

According to Kelandra, Mair had been found to be grossly negligent and received a very damaging black mark on his record. While a black mark could be wiped away, the stain would always remain.

For an honorable tribal corps like the Hundred-and-Seventeen Blades, taking in a mech pilot with such a stained record would lead to a massive outcry among its members!

"So the Blades kicked him out?" Ves asked.

"Worse. His own father, the Blade who Oryn sought to replace, disowned his son outright! You have to know that receiving a black mark on your record is one of the greatest shames of our people! We Kinners prize our word highly. If we accept a mission, we will never fail our responsibilities! We might be beaten, we might be outnumbered, we might be outfoxed, but we will never accept a defeat that’s caused by our own actions!"

Oryn Mair dozed off on the job. He skipped out on sleep and injected himself with anti-sleep stimulants instead, figuring that the chemicals would be enough to keep him sharp. This severe lapse of judgement ruined his entire reputation and forced his own father to treat Oryn like a stranger!

"What a tragic story!" Gavin said. "Since he disgraced himself so heavily, how come he’s still in business?"

"We Kinners might not look favorably towards him, but the Mercenary Association threw him a lifeline. With their support, he managed to put his superior skills to use and slowly completed a string of high-risk missions that other mercenaries would balk at. With the abundant pay he received for his services, he began to hire a band of misfits and problem cases among our people and put them through excruciating training until they shaped up into decent mech pilots."

"He’s doing quite well, it seems."

Kelandra did not appear to be too happy about that. "Not really. His mercenary corps, the Edge of Redemption, are only doing well because they take on tougher missions than most other mercenary corps. The pay is high but the risks are higher. There have been many times when the Edge of Redemption lost a third of their battle strength after a nasty mission. Attrition is horrendous. Many mech pilots who used to serve alongside him are long turned to dust. If you ask me, the Edge of Redemption is riddled with bad luck."

To punctuate her words, Commander Mair did not appear to be having a good day. Most Kinners who passed him openly directed sneers and other rude gestures at him. The clients, witnessing this behavior, all veered away from the pariah of his own people.

Yet to Ves, Commander Mair was like a diamond in the rough. The man’s strong spirituality as well as his remarkable story were deeply attractive. How could the Kinners despise such an amazing mech pilot?

Such a man would be perfect in the Avatars of Myth! Not only did he enjoy excellent training, but he possessed an abundant amount of experience in leading and training an eclectic mix of mech pilots.

Best of all, as long as Ves was able to guide Commander’s spirituality into developing a force of will, the Avatars might be able to gain their first expert pilot!

As much as Ves wanted to see Melkor or his other relatives become an expert pilot, it would not bring him any benefits. Anytime one of his Avatars broke through to expert candidate, the Mech Corps would just swoop in and poach the lucky mech pilot, leaving Ves with nothing but empty gratitude.

Yet such a cheap incident would never happen with Commander Mair. As a Kinner who pledged to serve Ves for his entire life, the mech pilot would never break his word, especially after incurring such a shameful black mark early in his career!

The fact that Commander Mair called his outfit the Edge of Redemption already spoke volumes of his determination to do better! With an unbreakable Kinner oath of fealty secure, the Mech Corps would never be able to pry off Commander Mair from Ves’ grubby hands if the fellow ever surpassed the extraordinary threshold!

"He’s interesting! I want to speak with him!" Ves boldly declared.

Before Kelandra could discourage her client, Ves already strode straight towards the proud mercenary commander.