The Mech Touch

Chapter 3068: Larkinson Boot Camp

Before the Purnesse Family departed from the Violet Estates, the proud son of Ambassador Shederin Purnesse had always lived a life of luxury and comfort.

As an up-and-coming foreign relations official, Novilon was accustomed to relying on his mind to achieve success. The outcome of a strategic business deal or the establishment of a vital alliance depended heavily on his ability to reach an understanding with his counterparts and finding clever ways to bring two different sides together.

Though he still had a lot to go before he was able to match his impressive father, Novilon was already a capable diplomat and negotiator in his current state!

It was too bad that all of his rhetoric fell onto deaf ears.

As he and many of his fellow well-spoken family members got carted off to the Swordmaidens, they immediately had a taste of Larkinson hospitality.

Within an hour after arriving onboard a Swordmaiden combat carrier, he and the rest of his batch were forced to remove their high-tech smart clothing as well as all of their equipment such as comms, shield generators and other gadgets…

The only clothes they were allowed to wear were plain, synthetic grey clothing that completely stripped the dignity of all of the Purnessers!

"We look like prisoners!" One of his cousins complained.

"Where did this fabric come from? It doesn't regulate my body temperature at all and it doesn't adjust its shape to mold my shoulders!"

"Give us back our clothing! This treatment is inhumane!"

As the Purnessers started to express their dissatisfaction, a handful of tall, imposing Swordmaidens entered the changing room.

Their large, imposing forms caused all of the Purnessers to quiet down.

All of their courage had instantly drained. Their response might have been different if they were still on familiar territory while wearing garments that allowed them to stand above the masses.

Yet this was a completely different situation. The Purnessers assigned to this combat carrier were all stuffed inside an unfamiliar, bare metal locker room. Their current outfits did not flatter their soft figures at all. Instead, they emphasized their vulnerability, especially when they stood in front of the muscled women who all carried their greatswords behind their backs!

One of the lead Swordmaidens spat onto the deck. "Huh, you disappoint me. At least have the guts to complain in front of my face! Didn't you want your old clothes back? They're right next door. If any of you think that the shirts and pants that we've provided to you are not up to your standards, then tell me now. If not, I'll assume that none of you mind wearing your current outfit for the duration of your stay aboard our ship."

Though very few Purnessers felt pleased by this news, none of them were stupid enough to speak out. They recognized the situation they were in and knew better than to challenge the authority of their new hosts.

The lead Swordmaiden looked disappointed. "Anyway, I'm in charge here. I've been assigned to kick you all into shape, and I am going to do my best to turn you into a semblance of a soldier."

This time, some of the Purnessers couldn't hold themselves back anymore.

"What?!"

"I'm too old!"

"QUIET!" The Swordmaiden trainer roared!

Her voice reverberated throughout the entire locker room. Her lungs were so powerful that Novilon and the other Purnessers felt as if her shout physically pushed them back!

The woman in question gestured towards her fellow Swordmaidens. A couple of them subsequently strode forward. They immediately approached the loudest of the complainers before striking their stomachs with underhanded punches!

"Ahh!"

"Ohh!"

"It hurts!"

The Swordmaidens appeared to have acted utterly without mercy, but they carefully controlled their strength. If they employed their full force, their victims could have easily suffered crippling or even fatal internal damage!

They instead employed enough force to prevent any permanent damage but cause their victims to collapse onto deck while wailing in pain.

The Swordmaiden trainer smirked. "Every time you disobey my instructions, you'll get beaten. Every time you talk back to us, you'll get beaten. Every time your mind gets filled with useless thoughts, you'll get beaten! Have I made myself clear to you all, or do you need a more physical demonstration to prove my point?"

"Madame, we did not sign up to be soldiers!" A female Purnesser mustered her courage and took a step forward. "We all know what you are trying to do. We are not ignorant, young teenagers who are unfamiliar with how loyalty is forged. Your approach is not only needlessly cruel, but completely inappropriate to our current situation. According to the theories of Professor Esther Hamelin, indoctrination is considerably less effective if the target audience is aware of what is taking place. Dr. Peter Volon recommends a more intellectual approach in order to convince people of our station to identify with a group. I humbly suggest that—"

"You talk too much!"

The Swordmaiden trainer abruptly surged forward and closed the distance within a blink of an eye. Before the Purnesser woman could finish her sentence, she received a painful wallop against her cheek that caused her to cry out in pain before falling onto her back!

An ugly bruise had already formed on her flawless, corrected skin.

"Let me make one thing clear to you all." The formidable warrior addressed the crowd. "You people have no say here. You either obey or keep your mouths shut. You're not Larkinsons to us yet. With attitudes like yours, our clan wouldn't even be willing to take you in! For some reason, the patriarch really wants you to give you a chance, so it is our duty to make sure you meet our minimum standards. Here in the Larkinson Clan, we don't care about what a bigshot you used to be. That part of your lives is over. From now on, you need to learn to become one of us, and I know just how to do that. Let's begin with a warm-up!"

What proceeded from there was like a training camp from hell. All of the Purnessers, no matter what kind of shape they were in, had to follow the instructions of their new trainers!

Blood, sweat and tears literally flowed from their bodies as the heartless Swordmaidens continually forced them to squeeze every bit of strength from their muscles.

It was insane!

Though there were a number of Purnessers who kept their bodies in shape for professional or personal reasons, most family members led placid lives.

The last time that Novilon broke out in a run was at least a decade ago! If he ever needed to go somewhere quickly, it was much more elegant and efficient to rely on his smart clothing to propel him forward.

Running was practically foreign to him! Even if his body was kept fairly fit through a combination of genetic modification and routine medical treatments, there was only so much that they could do. His complete lack of exercise and his familiarity with all of the pain and discomfort associated with heavy physical exertion caused him to collapse onto the deck numerous times.

His reprieve never lasted long.

Whenever Novilon seemingly lost all of his strength, a Swordmaiden would come along and either kick his side or strike him with an electric whip.

"You lazy bum! Your training is not over yet! Get back up to your feet and finish your assignment!"

The Swordmaidens did not completely rely on primitive methods to whip the Purnessers into shape. They had borrowed the assistance of Lifer medical experts in order to determine the exact physical condition of the new arrivals. The Larkinsons subsequently composed individually-tailored training programs for everyone.

Though the Purnessers initially thought that this measure meant that they wouldn't be pushed too much, the truth was very much different!

This was because the Swordmaidens did not give them any slack at all! If the data stated that Novilon was able to run three laps around the interior of the combat carrier, then he better complete the laps before he was allowed to rest!

The absolute limit that every Purnesser was capable of turned out to be so difficult to reach that it was no different from torture if they tried to squeeze out the final portions of strength from their abused bodies.

What was worse was that none of them enjoyed any proper rest if they managed to run the laps or lifted the weights according to their instructions.

During mealtime, the only food and drink the Swordmaidens were willing to serve to them amounted to a mug of water and a nutrient pack.

Those that couldn't take the indignity of being fed space peasant food quickly learned to keep their objections to themselves.

No one spoke during these relatively quiet periods. They were simply too tired and in pain to socialize with each other.

In the past, even the least important member of the Purnesse Family was accustomed to eating five or seven-course meals prepared by the professional chefs under their employ.

Now, the only way to fill their stomachs was to tear open the packet of their nutrient pack and spoon the dry, dense and crumbling contents into their mouths.

The less he could say about the taste, the better!

What got to Novilon and many of his fellow Purnessers was that the nutrient packs weren't even of the good variety!

Higher-quality nutrient packs not only put an actual effort into making their contents taste adequate, but also heated up their contents.

The ones that the Swordmaidens supplied to the Purnessers were made by third-class brands that sought to package all of the essential nutrients that humans needed with the least amount of cost!

Everyone learned to bear with it, though. They needed the sustenance to give them the energy to keep up with their next form of training.

Though the harsh and repetitive training sessions caused many Purnessers to become so weary that they could barely form any coherent thoughts, people like Novillon still maintained at least some awareness at times.

What he found perplexing was that the Swordmaidens weren't even doing their best to reform the thoughts of his fellow family members.

They rarely held lectures on how great it was to become a part of the Larkinson Clan or the ideals they should follow.

Instead, these female brutes kept pushing them to exercise their bodies and drain all of their energy without resorting to any fancy measures.

While this approach lacked sophistication, Novilon slowly realized that it was not ineffective.

As they slowly gained strength, the Purnessers started to feel more pleased with their own fitness.

The constant torture and exertion toughened them all up. Whether it was mentally or physically, they all improved at a modest rate.

Of course, the Swordmaiden instructors were used to seeing much better results from their trainees, but it was already fairly impressive that non-soldiers were able to make noticeable progress.

What was even more important was that the Purnessers slowly unlearned their old habits and thought patterns. They no longer spoke out without thought or demanded luxuries that they didn't deserve.

They also shed the pride or identity of the upper class. The Larkinsons hated stratification. Every Purnesser had to get accustomed to a militaristic culture that stood in stark contrast to the culture of the Grand Loxic Republic.

It didn't matter if they weren't cut out to be soldiers!

Even if they were most suited to fulfill civilian functions, everyone in the Larkinson Clan was expected to put up a fight if necessary. There was no escape if an enemy cornered the fleet and vanquished the Larkinson mech forces in battle.

Novilon realized that the military roots and battle-laden history of the Larkinson Clan had thoroughly warped its members to the point where they did not know any peace!

Only battle was on the minds of the Swordmaidens and the rest of the clan. Even if there was no hostilities on the horizon, the Larkinsons all behaved as if it was only a matter of time before they entered into another scuffle.

What did the Purnessers get into?