The Villainess Takes the Cockpit

"Letaria, come to the lab."

The usual summons. The kind she had grown quite used to.

"…Understood."

Letaria made her way to the Syn-Fibra laboratory at Milea's call.

The automatic door slid open—and the first thing to enter her field of vision was it.

"…What is this?"

Words failed her.

What was hanging there was nothing like the plain, form-fitting pilot suit she had been given.

Deep, rich dark purple as the base. Fine gold lines traced across it at intervals.

At the shoulders and waist, a structure of special lightweight fabric formed something almost like a frill—

As though someone had studied the silhouette of a ducal lady's gown, and rendered it in the language of armor.

"It's done! Letaria-san's custom pilot suit—the Noble Lotus!"

Sola, standing nearby, threw both hands in the air.

Shadows under her eyes. An expression of achievement that made them irrelevant.

"…Sola-sama. I believe I mentioned before—this is worn inside Arden. Won't the decorative elements interfere with movement?"

Letaria kept her skeptical expression. She had, by now, adapted enough to this world to think in practical terms. Sola met the question with total confidence.

"Fufu-n—underestimating me! …Oh, I'm picking up your speech patterns, Letaria-san. This frill isn't decoration.

The material is a high-density impact absorber, and it doubles as a heat-dispersal fin that distributes the physical stress of Trace Mode.

It looks like a dress—it performs like cutting-edge protective equipment! This way, your body can be shielded from those extraordinary G-forces!"

"…It's functionally superior as well?"

"Of course! I designed it to show you at your absolute best and have you fight at your absolute best—simultaneously!"

That argument cut through all objections.

Letaria stepped behind the partition and pulled it on.

Remarkably light. Against her skin, remarkably smooth.

She stepped in front of the full-length mirror.

And stopped.

"…My. …My, my, my! Yes—something this elegant is the very least appropriate for a lady of my standing!"

Hand on hip. The signature high laugh.

For the first time since being cast into this world, she was wearing something that felt like herself.

Sola laughed. Milea, watching from the side, let some visible relief into her face.

"Right? And—there's one more present."

Sola's smile turned knowing. She opened the shutter to the adjacent hangar.

There stood Arden.

But transformed.

The dull, battered steel was gone. In its place: dark purple armor with gold lines—the same palette as Letaria's suit.

"The maintenance team said—'If this lady's going to be piloting it, it ought to look the part'—and they got a little enthusiastic. Milea cleared it, since it's only a surface coating—no performance impact."

Milea glanced slightly away.

"…If you'd rather I had them restore it, it was their idea, so perhaps—"

"Everyone…"

Letaria looked at the machine.

A Makina that had been brutish and mechanical. Now it stood like her knight.

Purple armor. Gold lines. A noble and her iron guardian, dressed as one.

"This child is my armor. My knight."

Here, the name that had been bestowed upon her—the Runaway Lady—began to feel like something else entirely.

◆◆◆

Later. Seldia's residential sector.

Letaria and Merry stood before a holographic listings board.

Merry was a former freelancer. She had come to walk Letaria through the basics.

"Commissions are posted here."

"I can almost read it…more or less…"

Letaria still hadn't fully mastered the written language.

The MTI translated speech—working from vocal patterns, breath, body temperature, lip movement, known language databases—but that covered spoken words only.

"It's fine," Merry said.

She pulled up the holographic display on Letaria's bracelet and pointed to one listing.

Letaria traced her finger along it. A voice spoke: "Rogue raider suppression…operational zone…"

"Everything has a voice option. When you're unsure, use the MTI and the bracelet function together."

"…I understand."

Letaria accepted that she had a great deal left to learn.

"This one should suit you as a start. The client is…the vigilante corps."

◆◆◆

"That, broadly speaking, is how the work operates."

The vigilante corps' briefing room.

Merry operated the holographic display as she spoke.

"The corps members are formal vigilante personnel. As a freelance cooperator, you've been issued a bounty hunter's license.

Complete a commission and you receive payment based on its difficulty. Machine maintenance and fuel costs come out of that, and the rest is yours."

"I see…so the more I work, the more my funds grow?"

"In theory. But damage your machine severely and the repair bill can exceed the pay.

…Though that may not be a concern in your particular case."

Merry managed something close to a smile, and indicated one listing on the display.

"This is a reasonable place to start. Recovery of illegally abandoned Makinas drifting in the nearby sector. Some have live self-destruct systems. Some have active automated defenses. Disable them and bring them to the retrieval ship."

"Illegal dumping…you want me to collect rubbish? Me?"

"It isn't ordinary rubbish. There can be traps laid by bad actors. It's a legitimate combat operation."

Letaria rolled her shoulders in the Noble Lotus, testing the fit. Remarkable.

"Very well. I shall make my debut in this world a brilliant one!"

Arden's movement in open space was smoother than she had ever felt it.

Sola had been right. The new suit had transformed her sense of unity with the machine during Trace Mode.

"Three…no, five. Ahead and right. Moving predictably."

Rusted, obsolete automated security units emerged from behind drifting debris.

Letaria opened no comm channel. She closed the distance at minimum delay.

"Right there—!"

Arden's fist punched clean through the propulsion system of the nearest unit.

Light bloomed across the void. Letaria was already turning to the next.

Less than an hour later, she drifted back toward Seldia with all objectives complete.

She stepped out of the cockpit to find Milea, Merry, and—for reasons unclear—a very animated Sola.

"Good work, Letaria. Solid first run. Payment has been deposited. Check your bracelet."

Letaria tapped her left wrist.

[PAYMENT RECEIVED: 12,000 CREDITS]

She tilted her head at the number.

"…Twelve thousand? Is this a large amount? Or quite small?"

She could read numbers. The system of values behind them was still somewhat new.

"Let's see."

Merry touched her chin.

"An average citizen spends roughly three to four thousand credits on food per month. So earning this much from a single sortie—if you're not extravagant—covers a month's living."

"Oh my—! I've just earned more than a full month of living expenses in this short a time?! I truly am extraordinary—!"

Letaria's eyes sparkled. Merry hesitated, then added:

"…However. Replacing a single arm joint on a Makina runs upwards of thirty thousand credits.

One scratch, and it's gone."

"…?!"

Letaria's radiance collapsed without warning.

"All that fighting—and I can't even afford to repair one arm?!"

The brutal economics of an alien world hit her square between the eyes.

One month of comfortable living. A rounding error for the iron giant she flew.

"…That's why the 'data collection' arrangement exists."

Milea tapped at her terminal, dry and faintly entertained.

She did not mention that the cost of Arden's modifications, or the Noble Lotus alone, had run into figures with enough zeros to send Letaria into shock, a rampage, or likely both.

"Letaria-san, it's okay! I'll track down bigger commissions for you! Just let me take a few more poses for data purposes first—"

"That I can do without, Sola-sama!"

Letaria made a face.

But the number glowing on her wrist—12,000—was the first thing she had ever earned in this world with her own hands.

"…Hmph. Very well. I shall earn more. Enough to be the wealthiest person in this world, if I must!"

The purple noblewoman marched off, laughing.

Milea watched her go and said, very quietly:

"…She'll need to cover the next maintenance bill first."

The otherworldly noblewoman's career had only just begun.