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A sentence like this could apply to many different people and organizations.

The Red Ocean was a brand new territory that was filled with opportunities.

Ambitious pioneers constantly divested everything they could get rid of in the old galaxy in order to pass through the greater beyonder gate in droves.

Each of them brought an abundance of starships, mechs, goods, supplies and personnel.

Unfortunately, it was only after they moved past hearing all of the success stories that they remembered that there were many more pioneers who failed to achieve anything of note!

Those who grew up their entire lives in civilized star sectors had no idea what they were truly getting into. Despite the constant warnings and the abundance of statistics that showed how many ships and fleets went missing every day, there were too many fools who thought they could beat the odds and realize their wildest ambitions in a single leap!

It took failure after failure for many would-be pioneers to gain an inkling of the terrible odds they faced if they chose to dive into the shark tank that was known as the Red Ocean.

It was through these repeated failures that the success stories increasingly stood out from the background.

The Larkinson Clan was one of them! Led by its young and eccentric patriarch, its public record was filled with improbable victories and wild adventures. The fact that it had managed to return with a haul of hundreds of kilograms of phasewater after conducting only a single expedition had become one of the legendary tales of the new frontier!

As the Larkinsons settled on Davute VII and steadily put out one product after another, the locals and the players that operated on the same planet began to grow more familiar with the immigrants from the galactic rim.

Whether it was their iconic living mechs, their increasing entanglements with religions or their odd obsession with cats, the Larkinsons were definitely among the more colorful groups of people that had chosen to establish a base in Davute!

Their allies also merited a decent amount of attention.

Due to their association with the Larkinson Clan, they exhibited a number of familiar traits.

Compared to other pioneering organizations in the Red Ocean, the Glory Seekers and the Cross Clan both exhibited an abnormally high degree of unity and loyalty.

No member had ever defected from the partners that made up the alliance!

Aside from that, the two also began to field a number of living mechs. The Glory Seekers particularly embraced them whenever they could.

With iconic mechs such as the Valkyrie line, the Glory Seekers had quickly established a formidable reputation within the martial circles of Krakatoa.

The Cross Clan on the other hand fielded a different style of mechs that did not make heavy use of living mechs.

The only exception was their high-ranking machines. As the Crossers slowly outfitted their new and existing expert pilots with machines that corresponded to their rank, they fully embraced the power of living mechs to their most powerful champions!

Though the Larkinson Clan had already developed a high reputation for the strength and quality of its expert mechs, the Cross Clan was not any worse!

The latter's expert mechs were just as good, but their expert pilots were more experienced and oftentimes much more skilled and aggressive in battle!

Whenever detachments of the Golden Skull Alliance ventured out of the Davute System in order to fulfill the requirements of their mercenary contracts, the Larkinsons, Glory Seekers and Crossers earned a lot of respect and fear among their fellow mercenary colleagues.

No matter whether they fought against remnant alien stragglers or enemy mech forces, they utilized their numerous unique advantages to dominate their opponents!

From the beginning of the establishment of the Larkinson Army's Mercenary Hall, different groups of Larkinson mech units had pounced on the opportunity to stop wasting their time on monotonous practice so that they could brave their lives in battles with actual stakes!

The eager Larkinson mech pilots exhibited an odd selection strategy.

They never paid too much attention to the rewards of a mercenary assignment.

They did not pick the safest and most boring assignments.

They eschewed missions that were located too far away from Davute or demanded too much time to complete.

They also did not mindlessly accept the riskiest and most dangerous assignments.

They never selected missions where they were the only mercenary groups to respond to the call.

Though there had been times when the Larkinson mercenaries got scammed or lured into an ambush, the clan had always found a way to retaliate in one way or another!

Whether it was the sudden death of the mastermind behind the mission or the inexplicable disappearance of the ships carrying the mech troops that conducted an ambush, the Larkinson Clan showed that it was not an easy bully target!

As the Larkinsons began to conduct more mercenary assignments, they became more familiar with the surrounding region.

Other actors operating in the same region became familiar with the Larkinson Clan as well. Both of them forged an increasing amount of friendships and business relationships between each other.

Slowly but surely, the Larkinson Clan became a fixture of Davute's community!

It was hard for outsiders to believe that the Larkinson Clan had become a strong and established player in a rising colony that had the potential to become the center of a new state!

Tristan Wesseling, Journeyman and Fridayman, repeatedly read through the intelligence reports and compilations of public information.

Years after the turbulent end of the Komodo War, he no longer possessed any obligations to serve along the armed forces of his victorious state.

As soon as he was released from compulsory service, he applied to travel to the Red Ocean immediately!

Of course, getting there was easier said than done. The cost of transit was so prohibitively high that few ever got the chance to get aboard a ship that could bring them over to the new frontier!

It did not surprise Tristan the slightest when the higher ups rejected his initial applications.

He did not give up, though. He applied at every interval he could. In the meantime, he diligently worked and contributed to the pacification of the conquered territories that used to belong to the Hexadric Hegemony.

That state existed no more. Its name had turned into a taboo in his native star sector.

Even so, the former Hexer state still created a lot of headaches for the Friday Coalition. The conquered populations were so brainwashed by female supremacists that they constantly resisted against the efforts of the Fridaymen to undo generations of extreme indoctrination!

Not only that, but outside groups frequently wandered into the Komodo Star Sector and stirred up trouble in various places.

Under these circumstances, the Friday Coalition still hadn't been able to stand down too much from full mobilization!

So many Fridaymen were needed to control and rebuild the conquered territories that Tristan had been bouncing around numerous Hexer star systems for years on end.

It was only recently that he received a call from his Master. Tristan still recalled his reaction towards the responsibility that his Master had suddenly heaped onto his shoulders.

When Tristan entered a secure communication room and accepted the call, the projection of his Master appeared in front of his body.

Age had practically left his Master untouched.

As an accomplished mech designer who had lived over two centuries old, Master Katzenberg did not completely look a major contributor to the Friday Coalition's eventual victory in the Komodo War.

Despite the long hours and despite all of the stress she endured during the infamous war and its troublesome aftermath, Meredith Katzenberg still looked like an unassuming middle-aged housewife.

If not for her brilliant eyes and her abnormally confident posture, even Tristan would find it hard to believe she was one of the Friday Coalition's most strategically valuable technical experts!

"Good evening, Tristan." Master Katzenberg amiably greeted. "How is the reconstruction of Tetilin III proceeding?"

The Journeyman Mech Designer shrugged. "Our progress isn't good. Our requests for shipment of goods, materials and soldiers have been delayed yet again. The Hexer population aren't fighting against our occupation troops anymore, but their passive resistance isn't helping any matters. Many of them do not show up for work and others continue to sabotage the infrastructure that we are trying to rebuild."

Katzenberg did not show any special reaction towards this story.

"The former territories of our enemies are large and densely populated. Our state may have won the war, but the ruin that has resulted from it has depleted much of our reserves. We truly cannot send anymore troops and goods."

"I understand, ma'am. I am only passing on my observations. I do not mean to question the decisions made by our leaders."

Katzenberg nodded in approval. "The war has left us with many burdens, but do not forget that it could have been much worse for us all. A modest amount of sacrifice is not an unbearable consequence."

"I know, ma'am. I just feel like I can spend my time more productively. In the past few years, I have been assigned to work on one civil engineering project after another. I hardly have any free time to design any mechs or keep up with my studies these days."

"There is a great shortage of engineers and construction personnel, Tristan." His Master explained. "The longer the conquered planets remain in ruin, the more they will drag down our economy. We must restore a semblance of their infrastructure as fast as possible in order to truly integrate them into our state. You have contributed much to that effort. You may think that it is a waste of your design talent to spend your time designing and supervising the construction of bridges, hospitals, strongholds and so on, but has your ability to design mechs truly stagnated from working on these infrastructure projects?"

He frowned and thought for a moment. As a mech designer that had lived through half of the Age of Mechs, Master Katzenberg's wisdom was not to be taken lightly!

Tristan was no longer a young and impulsive mech designer either. Whether it was the passage of years or all of the time he spent on participating in various infrastructure projects, he had gained a lot of experience in working under difficult and restrictive circumstances.

"Now that I think about it… my design skills and my knowledge base may not have advanced that much, but my attitude towards my work is much more different than before. If I recall the times where I previously worked on my design projects, I feel I was a lot more foolish back then. Now that I have experience with working on real projects that matter to many people, I think I can design mechs that can also impact a lot of lives!"

Katzenberg smiled. "I am happy to see that you have matured. I am much more confident that you will be able to catch up after you have tempered your passion. You are ready for your next assignment."

That certainly caught Tristan's attention!

"My new assignment?"

"Did you not apply to relocate to the Red Ocean as of late? Originally, we did not intend to provide you with a quota, but the situation in the new frontier has deteriorated to the extent where we must take a more proactive approach. You are a part of our new plan."

"Pardon, ma'am?"

Master Katzenberg's projection leaned forward a bit. "Have you followed the news of our colonial endeavors?"

Tristan nodded. "I have always been interested in the Red Ocean. I always try to keep up with the news. It sounds as if our colonies aren't doing so well. Each of the coalition partners of our state are enduring pressure from multiple sources."

"The Komodo War is to blame for that." Katzenberg sighed. "Though our state has won in this star sector, the pacification and reconstruction effort has continued to impose a burden on us. We have not been able to dispatch too many pioneering fleets to the Red Ocean over the years."

Tristan's eyes grew sharper. "The defeated Hexers are in a different situation. Many of their elite groups and dynasties abandoned the Hegemony early and evacuated to the Red Ocean in droves. They have founded a lot more colonies than us and each of their settlements are a lot more developed as well."

"Exactly." Katzenberg grimaced. "While we have always been aware of this disparity, it did not mean much at first. Both Fridaymen and Hexers had no choice but to direct most of their energy on developing their colonies. It is only recently that the Hexers have built up a sufficient degree of infrastructure to expand their reach. Do you know what they have decided to do now that they have built up their bases?"

"The Hexers have begun to pick a fight with our colonists." Tristan answered.

"Exactly. Though the Hexers are not yet able to deploy larger armies against our colonial holdings, it is only a matter of time before our old enemies initiate a war in earnest."

Tristan widened his eyes. This would not end well for the Fridaymen!

"What will we do? Can we send more troops?"

"That is difficult, as you very well know. While we are planning to dispatch additional pioneering fleets to the Red Ocean to reinforce our beleaguered colonists, we cannot match the efforts of the Hexers in the short term. We need to buy more time if we want our colonies to stand a chance of staving off the revenge of our old enemies."

"How can we do that, ma'am?" Tristan then recalled what she said a moment earlier. "Wait, are you saying…"

"Yes, Tristan. We will be relying on you to help our colonists survive. Have you remained in touch with the patriarch of the Larkinson Clan?"