The Mech Touch

As Ves settled in his seat and occasionally chatted with the Larkinsons around him, the seating blocks simultaneously moved into position.

They floated above the center plaza and gardens of the Government District and assumed a wide U-shaped formation that granted every seated guest a clear view of the grand stage that was floating up in front.

The stage was a magnificent piece of work. It blended advanced metals and ornate stone into a construction that formed an artistic tapestry of what the founders of Davute aspired to create.

The various carved and molded shapes depicted settled planets, powerful mechs and huge starships. The stage also added a strong human factor by showing many different professionals working together to make their new homeland prosper.

From an artistic standpoint, Ves could definitely tell that the colonial government put a lot of effort into hiring the right artisans and coordinating their individual efforts.

Over a hundred different artists had worked on the stage. Yet despite being marked by a large amount of individual touches, the craftsmen all blended their efforts into each other without producing any form of conflict, thereby producing a coherent collective artwork that possessed a strong collective meaning.

Aurelia was clever enough to pick up on the underlying message as well.

"The government desperately wants people to work together." She spoke. "It also wants to conquer the entire zone."

Minister Shederin Purnesse who sat behind the front row voiced his approval. "That is correct, but that is not the extent of the message that the artists have been tasked with conveying. Look deeper, young lady. What else stands out in your eyes?"

There was another meaning to the grand stage? Both Ves and Aurelia put more effort into analyzing what profound message may be hiding in the details.

Aurelia was too young to figure out a good answer. Her face scrunched up in confusion as she habitually hugged and stroked Clixie's furry body.

"Miaow miaow~"

"I don't know. Do you have an idea, papa?"

Ves grinned at his girl. As an artist himself, it had been easy enough for him to put himself in the shoes of the artisans and simulate their thinking towards their work.

It also helped that several of the participating artists also happened to be card-carrying members of the Creation Association!

With the help of Vulcan's vast insights in craftsmanship, Ves saw that the artisans responsible for creating the human figures had been instructed to shape their facial expressions in specific ways.

"Look at it from an emotional perspective, Aurelia. What mood does it try to impart in its viewers?"

"It is… cold due to the use of pale colors. It is also grand and distant. However… the people shown on the surface don't look unhappy at all. Instead, they all show a range of positive expressions. They are happy, hopeful, expectant and loving. It resembles the people of our clan."

"That's a good observation, my dear!" Ves praised. "The humans depicted on the exterior are optimistic, that is true. They are also exhibiting another pattern, which is the direction of their gazes. Each of the figures are looking straight in the direction of the dais where the founding president of the colonial state is about to hold his historic speech."

The message it tried to convey was clear. Davute may be composed of people from all regions and all backgrounds, but only a single person was capable of bringing them hope and joy.

It was a rather symbolic message that sought to unite the disparate immigrants and stakeholders of Davute into a single cohesive group.

This was incredibly difficult at the best of times, but as Davute's regional holdings continued to experience rapid growth, it would become even more challenging to keep everything together.

A state that was experiencing rapid growth and change could easily be led astray if it was ruled by a committee of rivaling interests. Rivals and political opponents would constantly try to steer the development state in one direction or another. Nothing would get done and the situation on the ground would evolve in a chaotic and uncontrolled fashion until it all crashed down!

This was why it became so critical to put forth a single voice.

Even though it was risky to invest a lot of executive authority over an entire colonial state in a single person, an effective leader could cut through the confusion and force squabbling factions to work in the same direction rather than oppose each other all of the time.

Could President Yenames Clive become that person? Ves had no idea, but there had to be a lot of reasons why the original backers of Davute settled on him rather than any other viable candidate.

A good performance on this historic day was a great way to start his presidency on a good footing.

It was too bad that Ves became increasingly certain that the most important phase of the founding ceremony would never proceed according to plan.

He held the collapsed form of his Unending Regalia closer to his body so that he would be ready to deploy it as soon as possible.

"Look! The dark mechs have come!"

As a lengthy column of black mechs approached the center of the Government District. Their quantity along with their uniform dark gray color scheme contrasted strongly against the brightly colored architecture of the surrounding government buildings.

At the same time the mechs moved close enough to pass underneath the floating seating blocks, a figure weighed down by a multitude of yellow robes stepped forth.

The predominant color scheme of the robes was yellow. President Yenames Clive ponderously stepped forward. He gave everyone the illusion that it was a heavy burden for him to move forward with all of the layers of clothing weighing him down.

Many people shifted their attention from the mechs of Rorsh & Rorsh to the man appointed to lead their new state.ραпdα `nᴏνɐ| сom

Large amounts of projections came to life in order to give everyone a good view of their new leader.

If that wasn't enough, the air above the center of the Government District turned into a giant mirror of the grand stage. Even those with poor eyesight could not claim to have seen the image of Yenames Clive!

"He's so big." Marvaine commented.

Gloriana patted his small body. "Shhh. Do not speak out of turn. It is rude and disrespectful to the people who worked hard to make this possible."

The little boy's comment was understandable. Not just children, but also adults gained the impression that the prospective president had become larger than life.

The elaborate pomp and the enlargement of many elements did not make Yenames Clive smaller.

Instead, it was the opposite. The grace and dignity that flowed from his expression and appearance made him look as if he belonged on the grandest stage in Davute. His presence elevated the entire founding ceremony.

Yenames Clive was no amateur. That was for sure. His carefully controlled movements exhibited just the right cadence to convey as much gravitas and regality as possible.

It was no coincidence that his heavy ceremonial robes harkened back to the regal garments of traditional kings and emperors.

Those who knew almost nothing about Yenames Clive would see this image of the man as the truest representation of their new leader!

As Yenames Clive stopped before an ornate lectern, the man raised his arms, causing many conversations to die down as everyone got ready to listen to what may be the most consequential speech of their lives.

"Colonists of the Red Ocean." Yenames uttered in a deep and thrumming voice that seemed perfectly modulated to shake the hearts, minds and bodies of his listeners. "Today, Davute shall rise."

He only spoke a couple of words so far, but somehow they resonated in the hearts of many colonists.

No matter where they originally came from and no matter how long they resided in Davute, billions of immigrants had already developed an immediate attachment to their new homes.

There were good reasons why this was the case.

Different lights shone on the yellow robed figure body, creating the illusion that Yenames Clive was a god that watched down onto his subjects in his domain.

"Davute is a crossroads." The president continued to speak. "To many humans, our colonial state is but one stop among many in their journey into the frontier. To other humans, it is their new home. No matter whether your plans end in Davute or beyond, we welcome all visitors, because that is our way. We are the managers of the crossroads. We are the caretakers of this important nexus of trade. We ensure that goods continue to flow where they must. Do you know why we must undertake these responsibilities?"

The man lifted up an arm as if he was reaching towards the skies.

"Because we are Davutans."

That sentence sounded ordinary if said in any other circumstances, but when spoken in this context, it generated an immediate sense of righteousness and belonging.

Ves found it interesting that Yenames Clive chose to start his speech by emphasizing the trade and commercial aspects of Davute. He truly wanted to associate their new home state with commerce in everyone's minds.

This was not enough to create a shared identity, though. The new president needed to do more in order to create a national identity for his new colonial state.

"What does it mean to be a Davutan?" President Yenames Clive asked. "There are many answers to this question. I will share with you the answer in my dreams."

The heavily robed figure gestured with his arm, causing a projection to appear behind his back that showed the early days of the colonization of the planet.

ραпdα nᴏνɐ| сom Davute VII used to be a promising and prosperous life-bearing planet. Once humanity arrived and made it suitable for human habitation, the site that eventually became known as Kotor City became host to a large amount of prefab modular structures and landed starships.

"A Davutan presses forward." Yenames Clive said as the projected footage continued to display all of the difficult work required to build the initial shape of a settlement. "We have voluntarily distanced ourselves from the steady structure of the old galaxy so that we can build our new lives on our own terms. We are the pioneers, the settlers, the wayfarers and the workers of the Red Ocean. We are not afraid of challenging the status quo. We do not know how to stop."

The man created an image of a Davutan who was willing to abandon an easy life and work in a rough and developing colony in order to build a better future.

Even Ves felt taken by these words as the man's message about hardships and work aligned with his own values.

"A Davutan takes pride in honest work. We are decent people, and we must not forget this side of us as we work towards a better future in our new home state. Davute is a crossroads, but it is not the only one in the Red Ocean. If we desire to keep it alive, we must set aside our differences and present an open, tolerant and inclusive society to the foreigners that come to trade or settle among us. Tolerance pays. Inclusiveness allows us to build a stronger state. By becoming a people that can accept anyone, we can ensure our crossroads will be frequented the most. Every Davutan shall live like kings as long as we stay true to our collective mission!"

Ves had a feeling that President Yenames Clive may have taken inspiration from the Larkinson Clan when he and his writers drafted his speech.

He didn't blame the Davutans. The Larkinson Clan was a success story so it made sense to imitate its best practices.

Of course, Davute could not fully replicate the clan. The former did not possess a spiritual network to bind so many strangers together. The scale and living spaces were also entirely different. It was not wise to blindly copy the model of the Larkinson Clan to an actual colonial state.

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