Chapter 6878 Tristan’s Answer Tristan Wesseling felt ambivalent towards the offer made by the patriarch of the Larkinson Clan. As a Journeyman Mech Designer, he possessed his own pride. He defected from the Friday Coalition because he became disillusioned by its division and dysfunction. That did not mean he lost faith in all states in general. He chose to become a citizen of the Colonial Federation of Davute by choice. Although it was not the best colonial state in the Red Ocean, Tristan still agreed with the vision that the founders were trying to carve out in the new frontier. He had done decently well since he started up his own mech company on Davute. Wesseling Design Services remained relatively modest until the Great Severing caused a lot of hyper materials to emerge. Tristan dusted off his original specializations in materials science. He worked together with the state institutions of Davute to decipher the properties of hyper materials and develop effective alloys with them. His contributions were not particularly big or revolutionary, but he still derived a lot of satisfaction in developing new hyper alloys that the Davutans used in a few of their military mech designs. He also made strides in progressing his design philosophy. His crystals became even more powerful after incorporating the effects of different hyper materials. The development of positive and negative hyper gems presented a breakthrough in both his research and business success. It was much easier to convince others that his tiny gems could boost the performance of an entire mech by using 'hyper materials' and 'hyper technology' as buzzwords. Even though his pre-hyper gems also possessed the capacity to enhance the performance of mechs to a lesser degree, too many people found it far too esoteric to believe they worked. It did not help that the gems only improved the performance of mechs by single digits in most cases. This was hardly a noticeable performance boost, though true connosseurs appreciated how it could give them an edge in the most critical of battles. The Hyper Generation demystified a lot of phenomena that people previously regarded as magic or superstition. Although Tristan felt disappointed by the fact that he had to borrow the label of hyper technology in order to finally convince the market to take his gems seriously, a sale was still a sale. His hyper gems did not reach mass adoption, but the Journeyman never expected for that to happen. His products may be small, but they were expensive for the boost they provided. They could only ever be sold as luxury products that occupied a small niche in the broader mech market. For several years, that had been his pattern. He continued to split his time between exploring the applications of specific hyper materials, designing new mechs and developing new hyper gems. He was finally making slow but steady progress in developing his design philosophy. The Great Severing turned out to be a boon for his life and career. The Friday Coalition had become a relic of the past to Tristan. The second-rate state from the old galaxy could no longer exert any pressure. Meanwhile, the Hex Federation completely suppressed the Friday Colonies that lingered in the Magair Middle Zone. Tristan did not have to fear the Fridaymen making any attempt to bring him back to their fold! This was why he entered the beginning of the Age of Dawn with optimism. This was an era that was already shaping up to present her with an endless amount of fruitful work. Tristan became satisfied. The Colonial Federation of Davute continued to develop its planetary settlements. Its prosperity became clear to everyone. Even if his progress still was not as fast as that of Ves and other prodigies, Tristan saw hope of working towards a better future. Each day, he made incremental progress towards advancement to Senior Mech Designer. It may take a decade or two, but Tristan remained optimistic that he was moving forward at a slow but consistent pace. He already likened himself to a turtle as opposed to a hare. He did not really care too much about how many years it took to reach the next rank so long as his progress did not stall. The Red War continued to be fought in the background. While Tristan was much more aware of the risks and dangers than many other Davutans, he still retained enough confidence in red humanity's ability to hold back the native aliens. So long as red humanity gained a bit more time to improve its technologies and develop upgraded mechs, he was confident that humans would ultimately prevail. Tristan had admittedly grown complacent about the threat of war. He should have known better. He failed to anticipate the space refugees. He failed to take into account the possibility that all 5 defensive bands would break. He also utterly failed to foresee that the native aliens would overrun the Krakatoa Middle Zone and steamroll their way to Davute! Tristan couldn't help but feel sour about losing so much assets on Davute. The headquarters and main facilities of Wesseling Design Services had cost a significant chunk of money. He had upgraded their security systems and main production equipment. Now, all of it was likely about to turn into waste. If the native aliens succeeded in toppling the defenses of Davute, then there was nothing stopping them from bathing his facilities with cleansing and all-destructive flames! The Red Tide Offensive did not register as a threat for more than half a year. Then everything accelerated far beyond the public's imagination. Perhaps the bigshots had an inkling of what was about to happen, but Tristan was not qualified to join their circle. This meant that he and practically everyone else in Davute had been completely caught off-guard by the latest developments. Now, the Colonial Federation of Davute was bleeding star systems and population. Many star systems that never had the opportunity to build up proper defenses had become cleansed of all human presence. It was like the Sand War all over again, but this time the native aliens actually enjoyed the act of wiping out helpless human civilians! The capital planet of the colonial state was next. Valiant protectors such as the renowned 77th Warborn Mech Division under the lead of Saint General Ark Larkinson put up a mean resistance, but they were suffering so many losses in every serious engagement that they were steadily running out of mechs and mech pilots to deploy onto the battlefield. Yet it remained questionable whether they could hold the relentless native aliens back from conquering and razing the heart of the colonial federation. If Davute fell, the entire colonial state would break. Tristan would lose everything, and so would many other mech designers that invested heavily into the planet and state. His customer base, his network of contacts, his friendships and alliances, his favorable business agreements, his debts and much of his employee relationships threatened to go up into smoke. Many more people and companies stood to lose billions if not trillions of the MTA credits worth of assets and investments! The economic damage was enormous, and the greater damage to red humanity as a whole was even worse. The Colonial Federation of Davute had previously done so well. Tristan was but one of many people who had left their old lives behind and put their utmost into building a new life for themselves in the new frontier. Now, the native aliens pushed hard to wipe out one of the strongest and most exemplary second-rate states in the Magair Middle Zone. The Journeyman felt helpless to stop a possible tragedy from happening. He was too small of a figure to make any meaningful difference in the battle for the continued existence of Davute. "This must be what the Hexers felt when they saw their state crumbling before their eyes." He muttered. It felt incredibly unpleasant to be on the losing side of a war. Just booking an evacuation out of Davute was a nightmare. It became even more difficult to book evacuations for his employees, even his closest ones. Tristan felt responsible for their lives. He did not want them to remain stuck on the planet if the native aliens managed to breach the attempts to keep hostile intruders away. Many Davutans who had pledged the oath had already turned their backs on it. They ultimately valued their lives over intangibles such as fame and reputation. Should Tristan follow suit? Should he recognize the futility of standing tall against a storm? Should he pay the insane resettlement fees needed to immigrate to a safer colonial state in the rear? Tristan entertained far too many doubts in the past few weeks. There were nights where he woke up terrorized by nightmares. His old wartime experiences gave him plenty of reference materials. It was not that difficult at all to imagine all of the horrors that the native aliens were about to unleash upon the population. Just as the Journeyman continued to remain paralyzed by indecision, his old friend who came from the Komodo Star Sector called him out of the blue and sent out a recruitment offer. Ves' insistence on maintaining a strong mobile fleet presence sounded prescient in the current day and age. Transferring to the Larkinson Clan would solve so many problems. He would become safe as few native aliens could defeat the Larkinsons in open battle. He would gain access to excellent design facilities. He also gained access to a lot of knowledge that the Larkinson Clan had accumulated from different sources. Best of all, he could also gain access to precious samples of superdimensional matter! The entire clan would support his research, as he would be the most competent materials scientist in the Design Department. Yet as Tristan thought about his existing obligations to Davute, he did not want his selfishness to take precedence over doing what was right. He had to ponder for several minutes after receiving the initial offer. It took a bit of time, but he eventually managed to make up his mind. "Ves. Thank you for waiting." "Have you decided?" "Yes. I… am more open to joining the Larkinson Clan than before, but I do not want to abandon my current colonial state when it still has a chance of breaking the enemy advance and bouncing back." Tristan Wesseling ultimately said. "I have pledged an oath and I do not intend to break it without cause. Cowardice is not a valid reason." "Does that mean you refuse to join the Larkinson Clan?" "Not entirely. Let me make my intentions clearer. So long as Davute still stands, I will consider it an obligation for me to contribute to the colonial state's war effort in my capacity as a mech designer. If Davute has fallen, then there is little left to bind me to a dead colonial state. I will become a free agent in this scenario. I will be free to join the Larkinson Clan without violating my original pledges." The reaction from Ves made it clear that he did not approve of this conditional agreement. Yet that was the best that Tristan was willing to give. "Tristan…" The Journeyman remained steadfast. "Please respect my choices. I cannot drop everything and join you the instant you call for my services. I am probably in the minority here, but I still believe in the Davute Project. The Red War has overtaken everything, but that has made states such as the colonial federation all the more precious. They are the few places that try to give humans a semblance of normal life." "You care about that a lot." Ves observed. "I do." Tristan nodded. "I have seen how unrelenting total war can warp the population of an entire state. The same will happen to the rest of us if we continue to let war triumph over peace. It is in times like these that we must work harder than ever to preserve our humanity. Please let me stay and fight. If the situation truly becomes untenable, then I will try to evacuate with your fellow Larkinsons. Until then, I will stay and do my duty as a Davutan."