With the low rumble of heavy machinery and the rattling of chains, the conveyor belt came to life, inching its way across the width of the warehouse, and after a few moments, allowed Cameron to lay his eyes on the first of his six prospects.

It was a deep glossy red, the same hue of a dying star, paired with thick lines of black onyx that ran the trim of its layered armor plating that ran from the shoulders to the waist, and billowing out around the hips. Its arms and legs were sleek and thin, as a thick, sleeveless field of fabric fashioned into a knee-length coat that fluttered softly as the massive mech swung on two large hooks. A high collar came up to where the cheeks would be on a human face, as two high prongs the shape of antlers rose an additional meter above the head unit, held in place with a black plate bolted onto the forehead. On its hip, a seven meter Katana gleamed in the light, its thin blade so sharp it looked like it could make even the air bleed.

“Meet the Ronin,” Morty said, gesturing with a hand to the mech that pulled to a stop in front of them. He waited until the chains that held it suspended stopped their rusty squealing, and once they did, he began his sales pitch.

“Manufactured by the Tadakatsu Syndicate in the early 2700’s, the crowning jewel of this beauty is its high-frequency Katana that vibrates at such a high frequency it weakens the structural bonds of solid, allowing it to cut deeper than most other blades in its class. On top of that, with a reinforced frame and fifty-six boost jets spread across the chassis, you’re not going to have a problem with speed.”

As he spoke, Morty had turned on a screen positioned directly at the bottom of the Ronin. All at once, a series of numeric values scrolled rapidly across the screen. Eventually, the values settled onto a series of bar graphs that Cameron had to squint to see while Morty spoke again.

“Don’t take my word for it though, here’s the initial Alpha class metrics straight from the proving grounds,” He said, pointing towards the screen and motioning for them to approach. As they did, Cameron’s settled on what looked to be a stat page.

Model: AX2Y-Ronin

Manufacturer: Tadakatsu Syndicate

Height: 9.23 Meters

Weight: 111.92 Tons

Variant: Assault

Proving Scores;

Armor: 2.3

Speed: 5.6

Agility: 7.4

Output: 8.2

Cameron’s eyes scanned over the information multiple times, trying to take it all in, as Morty’s voice rang in his ear, offering insight into the information that Cameron was consuming.

“The higher the score, the better. Ten is the absolute peak a unit can perform. One being the absolute worst.”

“Damn,” Logan said, his voice coming from the other side as he was seemingly looking over Cameron’s shoulder, “Those stats ain’t bad. What do you think Aurora?”

“I think if we’re gonna come all the way out here,” Aurora chimed in, “we’re gonna get the best. And I don’t think this is it.”

Cameron could hear Morty beginning to sputter in offence, but before he got a word out, Aurora had reached over and pressed her finger to a flashing arrow on the right-hand side of the screen. Suddenly, the conveyor belt groaned to life, chains rattling loudly as they began to move, slowly pulling the Ronin from where it was in the center wall, to the open hole on the right side, ushering it out of sight.

“Hey!” Cameron called, looking back over his shoulder to his stone faced mechanic, “I was looking at that!”

“Was and are are two different things,” She said, shrugging nonchalantly, “Now stop fucking pouting you prima donna, we’re shopping for you remember? At least take a look at all there is to offer.”

Cameron rolled his eyes, but did as she ordered, turning back to watch as the short, boxy build of a Berserker slowly came into view, twin hand axes dangling from the hips, painted a chocolate brown with green accents.

“Indigo Industries Berserker unit,” Morty started to explain as the mech was slowly ushered into view, "Dual wield ax user, with a focus on boost jumping. It’s got some slight modifications to it, so now you can get a hundred meter vertical and and thousand meter long jump from a running start.”

Cameron whistled, impressed and was in the process of looking down to study the units stats, when it was Logan’s turn to jump in, pressing the button to drag it out of view before it even got a chance to settle.

“What the fuck?!” Cameron exclaimed, shooting a glare at the other pilot, “Why not?!”

“Weak gyroscope in melee,” Logan said with a shrug, “You’re already having to dodge all the melee weapons, a fist or shoulder tackle shouldn’t match the list of potentially fatal blows,”

“Who’s picking the fucking mech?!” Cameron said, veins peeking out on the side of his neck in frustration.

“Who’s paying for it?” Logan shot back, eyebrow raised expectantly.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

The quip instantly extinguished Cameron’s anger, and he quickly looked away, speaking to Morty after a sharp clearing of his throat, “Ahem… what’s next?”

For the next half hour the trio stood, watching as mech after mech was dragged out from storage and presented to them while Morty gave a synopsis as to their history and features. So far, they’d seen an Apache, a unit specializing in short range fighting with a self returning tomahawk axe, a Fencer with it’s long and thin rapier that was built on short, swift dodges and parries, and a Turbine, it’s dual scimitar sword style perfect for skirmishing with multiple enemies at once. One by one, each unit had been passed over, either from Aurora’s issues with quality, or Logan’s first hand experience facing said unit in combat. In the end, as the Turbine was hauled away, another victim of the pairs reluctance, Cameron was barely holding his anger in check.

“Guys…” He said, tapping his forehead against the railing, the cold metal vibrating with a hollow thud with every self-inflicted strike, “Please… work with me here. All of these units have been perfectly fine! It’s not like there’s something out there that’s going to be such a perfect fit that we need to keep passing up these cool ass units!”

“First of all,” Logan said, his tone sounding as irritated as Cameron felt, “If I’m buying this thing, I’m getting my fucking monies worth, I’m not going to drop all this silver for a mech that you can swing a dead cat and hit ten people that pilot one. Second, how do you know we’re not gonna find one that’s a perfect fit for you?”

“Because this isn’t a fucking fairy tale dude!” Cameron said, shooting up straight and turning to look at Logan, “I can make due with whatever! Just fucking pick one already so I can acutally pilot something!”

“Good things come to those who wait,” Aurora said in a sing song voice.

“I will hit a child!”

“Can everyone please just calm down?” Morty said, hands raised in an attempt to placate the bickering trio, “I’m trying to run a business here and you three screaming like a bunch of psychos aren’t exactly helping to draw in customers.”

“Did… did he just call us crazy?” Aurora said, jerking a thumb into the mech merchant’s direction.

“And you’re going to gloss over the fact your new pilot just threatened to hit you?” Morty asked in response.

“Alright! Alright! Enough!” Logan called out, instantly causing a hush to fall over the room, save for the industrial hum of heavy machinery in the background. He looked around, meeting the eyes of all present, before he let out a heavy sigh, closing his while he slowly massaged his temples. After a moment, he spoke, his tone soft and calm despite the irritation that existed between all of them.

“Morty… do you have any other assault variants? Or were those all there was to see?”

“Let me check,” Morty said, bringing out a data-pad from somewhere on his person as he began to tap and swipe away on the surface. After a few moments he stopped and grimaced slightly, before responding in an unsure tone, “I got one left but it’s a little… weird,” he said, looking up from the screen for a brief moment to meet Logan’s questioning gaze.

“Weird how?” Logan asked, voicing what was on the other’s minds.

“Well,” Morty said, sighing as he swiped back and forth on the screen, “It’s not a production model. Limited release, only a few hundred were made. Hell, the companies not even operating anymore. On top of that,” He trailed off, his eyes scrolling down the screen, seemingly reading something that had appeared relevant. “This thing had some custom order shit tacked onto it. I have it here in my records that it was dropped off about five years ago, for some reason though, they never came back,”

“Well that’s not creepy at all,” Aurora said sarcastically.

“Who was the pilot?” Logan asked, intrigue evident on his features.

There was another long silence as Morty checked his records, eventually looking up with a shrug, “Not sure, all that the files say is REDACTED,”

“Oh great,” Aurora said, throwing her hands up in irritation, “Act now and you can be the proud owners of a dead man’s prototype.”

Morty shrugged, looking nonplussed, as he stared at Logan, “It’s the last one I got, you wanna take a look at it, or not?”

It took him a few moments to come to a decision, spending the time in silent contemplation as he looked between Cameron and Aurora, before offering a shrug and a shake of the head, “Fuck it, go ahead and bring it out,”

“You got it,” Morty said, pressing a button on his data-pad as the familiar rattling of the chains started up again.

The group gathered together in the center, heads craned towards the storage entrance, waiting to be the first to catch a look at this mysterious mech.

“So what’s it called anyways?” Cameron asked, looking back over his shoulder towards Morty.

The man smirked, flashing a toothy grin as the a shadow began to form at the entrance.

“The Headsman.”