Absentmindedly, the old man was rubbing at a phantom pain in his right thigh. Supposedly the new "soft touch" prosthetic leg could sense and react to painful stimulus. But, he wasn't too sure it could remember an injury he recieved on the welcoming end of a Clan Ultra 20 all those many years ago.
That encounter had ended his career as a Mechjock and eventually turned him into one of the premier mech designers on Solaris VII.
His newest Open Assault Class entry towered above him, decked out in the Stables' colors. He has a crew of mechtechs polishing every inch of his creation late into the evening.
The Stable Owners were quite skeptical when he approached them about rebuilding a gutted Atlas frame into a new design he had floating around in his head.
He had quietly, at first to himself, started calling the mech "Double D" as a joke when he finally had the troublesome twin Sol-Tec rotary cannons installed.
He was here in the Mech Bay after hours for a private ritual he did with every new mech he created. He was going for a ride in his new mech.
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