A few days after the "date" in the residential sector.
Letaria Adeniam was back in the hangar, surrounded by featureless metal walls.
In front of her stood Arden—her beloved Makina, newly repaired. But it looked different from before.
The texture of the armor had changed. Parts she had never seen before were fitted across the frame.
"I swapped the components while it was in for repairs. Replaced them with our company's own."
Milea said it as though it were nothing, tapping at a terminal on the scaffolding overhead. Letaria stared up at Arden's newly fitted arms.
"…Swapped? You did something to this child?"
"Arms and legs, replaced. Built to hold up to your hand-to-hand style.
Using old Crafid parts at this point would just hold you back. Think of it as part of your job."
(Hand-to…hand?)
"I see…
…Is this the 'data collection' you keep talking about?"
She used a phrase she had recently picked up. Milea's mouth curved very slightly.
"Exactly. You pick things up fast—I appreciate it."
According to the explanation, both arms and legs had been fitted with something called "strike-reinforced armor plating."
For Letaria, who had been doing nothing but hand-to-hand combat since arriving here, this was more than welcome.
"I've also mounted a photon rifle and a photon saber, so it's time you learned to use them."
"…I'll work on it."
The parade of unfamiliar terms made her head swim faintly, but Letaria nodded with studied elegance.
◇
"Now. Put this on."
What Milea held out was a thin, close-fitting suit with a distinctive sheen—one that made no attempt to hide the body's contours. Letaria changed into it as instructed, and immediately felt uncomfortable.
"…It's restrictive. Are you certain this is the correct size?"
"Space has no air. If it doesn't seal against your skin, you'll be in trouble. Step outside without it and you die."
"…"
Letaria thought of the lightless void beyond the hangar walls.
A sea of stars with no sound. No breath.
Beautiful and lethal in ways her old world had never been.
She was still caught in the thought when she noticed Milea watching her carefully.
"…Good proportions."
"Wha—! What are you looking at?!"
"I said what I observed."
Milea's flat delivery sent Letaria's ears burning red. This woman had said "your body is beautiful" with that same expression once before. Did she have no sense of propriety whatsoever?
"This person is truly—! Ugh—!"
Face aflame, Letaria retreated into Arden's cockpit.
◆◆◆
"Letaria—! We've been waiting for you!"
The moment Arden launched from the catapult and reached open space, Stesia's energetic face appeared on the comm panel. Several vigilante corps Makinas were holding formation nearby.
"So the Runaway Lady went freelance and joined up with us. Glad to have you."
(Runaway Lady…?)
She didn't understand the reference, so she said nothing.
The vigilante members' voices came in one after another. From their tone, they had decided she was a "capable ally." That seemed to be the agreed-upon understanding.
"You know, the Captain was really pushing to bring you in formally—and you still went freelance, huh."
One member's offhand comment prompted Letaria to give a small, self-satisfied sniff.
"I am better suited to freedom. Being bound to an organization would offend a lady's sense of dignity."
(…In reality, Milea told me it was 'more convenient this way.')
She tucked that truth firmly away and gripped the controls. Today's assignment: clearing out the raiders who had been terrorizing the nearby shipping lanes. Her first proper commission as a freelancer.
◆◆◆
"Here they come—!"
Letaria sensed the approach before the vigilante corps' radar had caught it.
"Yeehaw—! Vigilante hardware's top-shelf, boys! Grab every last one of 'em!"
Crude laughter crackled over the open channel. Moments later, a cluster of raider machines came in at full speed.
(…I know exactly what to do.)
Arden sprang into motion. The punishing thrust of Trace Mode threw her body against the cockpit seat even through the suit, but Letaria absorbed it and pushed back.
"First one—!"
Arden's reinforced fist drove into the raider's flank.
A resonance of metal—the impossible sensation of impact through the hull, in a vacuum that carried no sound. The feedback was noticeably different from before.
"Second—!"
A fluid kick. The reinforced leg carved deep into the enemy machine's midsection.
"That movement…she's still a monster to watch…"
The vigilante members shuddered, but Letaria paid no attention. She locked onto the final target. At that moment, the raider pilot's voice came screaming over the channel—
"Hey, hold on—is that the one they call the Cos—"
The moment that word reached her ears, something snapped.
"Oh, do SHUT UP—!!"
Arden accelerated in a burst of fury. Before the pilot could finish the syllable, Arden's fist had ended the conversation entirely.
The channel went dead. Silence.
"…She's already done."
Stesia's stunned voice drifted over comms. Letaria breathed hard through her nose.
"Why do these ruffians insist on using that word?! Know your place!"
In the old days, she wouldn't have understood what was being said—the rage would come later. Not anymore. What was unpleasant got dealt with on the spot. That was the way of the villainess who was beginning to feel at home in an alien sky.
◆◆◆
"All units, no remaining hostiles. Operation complete."
Grain's measured voice came over comms.
"…Good work. Lady Letaria, a splendid debut."
"…Ohoho, I'm honored to have been of service. Next time, could you arrange something with a little more of a fight in it?"
Back in the hangar, Stesia was the first to run over. "That was incredible!" The other members added their own words of praise.
"Of course it was. When Letaria Adeniam operates at full strength, this sort of thing is trivial before breakfast!"
Standing tall, laughing, Letaria quietly glanced up at Arden.
(…But.)
She had once been called useless. Cast out. Here—she was needed. Thanked.
(…Not bad at all, this work.)
Just slightly—barely perceptibly—the corner of Letaria's mouth softened into something that looked very much like contentment.