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These were the most privileged residents of the star system. The money they earned from their service to the MTA came in the form of MTA credits.

Often called mech credits, they were almost identical to the CFA’s fleet credits. It was as if the two organizations copied each other’s homework.

A mech credit possessed an extremely high purchasing power even in the shops of the MTA. According to the current exchange rate, a single mech credit was worth around 3.6 billion bright credits!

"Damn! So high!" Ves cursed when he looked up the figures.

It was a humbling moment for Ves when he realized that his entire net worth only amounted to a handful of mech credits!

A typical internal MTA mech technician earned around 10 mech credits per month! That was a lot more than what most hard-working mech designers earned in their lifetimes!

The difference between the earning power of a citizen from the galactic rim and an internal member of the MTA was simply too vast!

Still, at least the MTA wasn’t as insular as the CFA. People like Charlotte received an opportunity to prove themselves in order to enter their ranks. Once she passed her probationary period, she could expect to draw a salary of around 20 mech credits a month.

This was an insane amount of money, enough to make a lot of waves in the Bright Republic!

Naturally, because of their extremely high value, the MTA and CFA regulated their currencies quite strictly. It was a virtual currency that existed only in their central database, which meant that they tracked every transaction.

Overall, they did a pretty good job in preventing the wealthy citizens of the Centerpoint System from throwing the rest of the star sector in chaos.

"It’s not completely foolproof, though."

There were means to convert fleet credits and mech credits into other currencies or valuable trade goods. However, doing this introduced a lot of other problems. Pirates loved to hijack shipments of trade goods worth billions of bright credits.

"It isn’t worthwhile for them to meddle in the star sector anyway."

While it sounded as if every internal member of the MTA possessed an unimaginable amount of wealth, they could only earn this much because they were a lot more productive and capable than baseline humans.

From genetic optimization treatments to implants and augments, these people had to save thousands of mech credits to afford another upgrade. Accumulating upgrades was one of the prerequisites to earning a promotion that allowed MTA personnel to climb higher in the ranks!

Better upgrades cost vastly more mech credits than ordinary ones, which meant that their upper classes had a much easier time remaining at the top than their rank and file.

In this way, the MTA managed to maintain social stability among their own members. Everyone who entered their ranks had a clear if difficult path to promotion. The rank and file was happy with any opportunity for upward mobility, while the upper ranks were content as well as they could use their abundant wealth to give their descendents a considerable head start.

"Naturally, there are always some who can’t keep up and wash out."

The MTA paid a lot to its internal members, but demanded a lot in return as well. They didn’t hesitate to kick out members who were slacking off or failed to meet the high standards of the Association.

From what Ves read on the galactic net, most of the internal members that the MTA fired usually left the Centerpoint System. Most migrated to the galactic heartland or other, more prosperous star sectors, while the least capable could only go as far as the Friday Coalition or the Hexadric Hegemony.

"In general, the MTA is pretty fair in this regard." Ves thoughtfully concluded.

The MTA constantly took in lucky new recruits from impoverished regions while kicking out the bums and incompetents from their ranks. This continuous movement of people kept the organization dynamic and more in touch with the people they protected.

This contrasted sharply with what he knew of the CFA. They were a lot more rigid and hierarchical. It was a lot more difficult for someone to obtain a higher class no matter how hard they worked. Space peasants could forget about entering their ranks!

While the CFA didn’t exhibit much diversity as a result, they possessed a much stronger common identity. Everyone possessed the same background. They could all count on each other to think and perform in the same way.

Ves found it fascinating how the CFA and the MTA diverged in their thinking of this matter. From a broader perspective, their divergent human resource policies betrayed their stance towards the people they protected.

"While they are both smug and elitist, the CFA is a lot more contemptuous of space peasants than the MTA. At least the latter still consider themselves to be a part of humanity rather than standing above them. Sometimes, I wonder why they still bother to guard over human space."

He never looked that much into how the MTA was run. As part of the Big Two, the Association was unimaginably big and powerful. Ves never thought he could ever enter their vortex.

"It’s different now."

The MTA cared a lot about mechs. As long as a mech pilot or mech designer excelled in mechs in any way, they became worthy of consideration.

In practice, that meant that every expert pilot and Journeyman Mech Designer could expect to obtain some benefits from them. Even if they weren’t able to become internal members and earn a salary in mech credits, they could still enjoy some services as external members.

It was kind of like his current relationship with the Flashlight, now that Ves thought about it. Remaining in the periphery meant that while Ves wouldn’t be able to enjoy a lot of benefits, he wouldn’t be forced to follow the whims of these organizations either.

Considering his current situation, Ves preferred to keep a healthy distance from the MTA. While earning mech credits sounded really attractive, he valued his life and his freedom even more!

He also read up on how they regarded design philosophies. While the galactic net didn’t offer that much information, he did find out a handy list of all the different classifications they came up with after several hundred years of refinement.

Class I: Whole performance, holistic, encompasses entire mechs.

Class II: Offense-oriented.

Class III: Defense-oriented.

Class IV: Mobility-oriented.

Class V: Endurance and efficiency-oriented.

Class VI: Focus on a narrow range of mech archetypes.

Class VII: Focus on a narrow range of mech designs.

Class VIII: Focus on a narrow range of tech, components or materials.

Class IX: Irregular, unorthodox, unconventional, special.

That last one stood out like a sore thumb. Ves suspected that they called Class IX design philosophies ’special’ as a euphemism for something they considered stupid or unrealistic.

"It’s like a lottery. Most mech designers with Class IX design philosophies don’t make it out of Journeyman or Senior, but those that do often hit the jackpot because they’re incredibly valuable at the Master-level!"

Once the MTA adopted this classification scheme, they performed a lot of research on how the different classes of design philosophies fared.

The MTA considered a design philosophy to achieve its culmination when its mech designer advanced to Master. Reaching Journeyman was just the bare minimum to enter into the organization’s consideration.

As for Novices and Apprentices? There were so many of them that the MTA simply didn’t bother to put them into consideration.

Overall, the most eye-catching observation was that mech designers who possessed Class VII design philosophies were the most likely to advance to Master!

While Ves already knew this fact, it still surprised him how much their odds improved. Mech designers who only designed a single mech and continuously iterated upon them were considered the oddballs of the mech industry.

They only designed a single mech in their entire lives!

Of course, just because they devoted all of their energy on one design didn’t mean that mech remained the same. They continually upgraded their sole design with newer tech and finer application of knowledge. Sometimes, they even designed variants that could cope better in specific situations.

Still, the core of their design philosophy still rested in a single, specific mech design. Even if these extreme mech designers possessed the skill to design other mechs, they wholeheartedly refused to do so. For them, it was a matter of principle! The moment they designed another mech was the moment their design philosophy broke!

Therefore, even if Class VII mech designers boasted the most Masters, they also contributed the least to the development of mech design.

"While some of their innovations are universal, most of them are confined to a specific mech design."

Such Masters didn’t leave much of a legacy behind. The only way their work remained relevant was if they raised an Apprentice who inherited the exact same design philosophy.

Opposite to Class VII design philosophies, the MTA regarded Class II, Class III, Class IV and Class V in a much better light.

The mech designers who possessed these design philosophies often came up with many useful innovations. Best of all, they were often universal, which meant that they could be applied to countless other mech designs.

"In fact, they are the principal source of many new technologies and techniques introduced in every new mech generation!"

Mech designers who possessed design philosophies that fell into this range enjoyed a greater amount of attention from the MTA.

Compared to Class VII mech designers who only dickered around with a single mech design, a typical Class II mech designer could pass on a lot more widely-applicable innovations!

Ves spared some thought about how Ketis fell into this classification scheme.

"She focuses on both sharpness and swordsman mechs, so her design philosophy can be classified as both Class II and Class VI."

However, the MTA refused to assign multiple classifications to a single design philosophy. In cases where multiple classifications were possible, the narrowest one applied.

In the case of Ketis, that meant her design philosophy primarily fell under Class VI.

"At least Class VI design philosophies aren’t treated with contempt."

The innovations developed by a Class VI mech designer could still be applied to many mech designs that shared the same archetype.

Still, if Ves had a say in the matter, he would rather prefer that Ketis shift her design philosophy towards focusing on sharpness. Her obsession with swordsman mechs forced her to split her attention, which meant she might not be able to accomplish anything in either areas.

"Still, she chose this path by herself. I shouldn’t meddle with her decision." Ves shook his head.

Just because the MTA thought bad of something didn’t mean that Ves should do the same.

"After all, my design philosophy has fallen under the ’special’ class, which doesn’t exactly enjoy the best reputation."

Class I and Class IX design philosophies were both special in that they were often compatible with many other design philosophies.

Ves already discovered that since his design philosophy focused on an aspect that almost no other mech designer thought about, he could collaborate with practically everyone!

This made it a lot easier for Class I and some Class IX mech designers to collaborate with other mech designers.

The downside was that because their design philosophies were so vague, radical and all-encompassing that their chances of advancing to Master was abysmal!

Too many Seniors who possessed these classes of design philosophies got stuck halfway and never found a way to step further.

Ves wasn’t conceited enough to think he enjoyed smooth sailing. The same fate might befall him one day!

"I have to keep improving. I have to keep innovating. I have to keep challenging myself!"