The Villainess Takes the Cockpit

"Letaria. You have my permission to choose your own commissions—but do not, under any circumstances, accept something beyond your means. We are clear on that, yes?"

The residential terminal. In front of the holographic commission listings, Milea's voice descended onto Letaria's back—the patient, measured tone of a mother talking sense into a child.

"…I am perfectly aware! What do you take me for? I am a duke's daughter, whatever else I may be. I do not overreach."

Letaria shook her shoulders in irritation and swiped through the terminal display.

If she were being honest, she'd have liked nothing better than to take on something spectacular—sweep through an army of villains in one glorious sweep. But the merciless truth Merry had laid before her not so long ago—"twelve thousand credits won't cover a single arm replacement"—had driven an unexpectedly heavy wedge into her proud heart.

(…I cannot afford pride here. First things first: I must build up enough reserves to keep Arden operational. The thought of my machine limping around in disrepair is more than my dignity can endure.)

What Letaria selected was a mineral asteroid survey assistance mission—a small rocky body that had drifted into the near-sector adjacent to Seldia. The primary work involved supporting the transport of broken-down ore fragments to a collection ship, along with providing escort to keep the workers safe.

"How dreary… It's like clearing pebbles from a garden path."

Muttering, but going nonetheless—Letaria zipped herself into her newly tailored purple-and-gold pilot suit and settled into Arden's cockpit.

◆◆◆

Glittering shards of ore drifted through the dark of space.

Arden moved with steady repetition—great hands closing around chunks of rock, lifting, tipping them into collection pods. Letaria's "intuition" read each one perfectly: which was brittle, which angle, which moment would yield the cleanest result.

(…This matters. Quiet, steady accumulation is the foundation of everything. Rutir never neglected the people around her, even on top of her daily magic training and combat practice.)

Her thoughts drifted to her sister, far away in the world she had left behind. The volunteer work she used to dismiss as "tedious theatre." But now, earning her own keep by her own efforts—even if it was technically Arden doing the physical lifting—she thought she could almost feel the weight of responsibility that lived inside that "tedium."

The comm panel flickered. A face appeared: smiling, with an air of faint amusement. Grain, captain of the vigilante corps.

"Hey, Lady Letaria. Hard at it, I see. Last time the corps was managing you directly—but this is the real thing now, isn't it? Starting to find your footing around here?"

"Oh, Grain. …Hmph. For your information, there is no place I fail to find my footing. More to the point—why are you calling? Are you still keeping watch over me?"

Letaria asked with a trace of annoyance; Grain on the screen gave a slight shrug. He was aboard a corps patrol craft, a few kilometers out.

"No—what I'm watching is behind you, Lady Letaria. …You haven't noticed?"

"Behind me…?"

Letaria swept Arden's external sensors rearward.

Trailing at a careful distance, keeping formation—several flat, compact vessels, clearly not work Makinas. Bold insignia on their hulls. The letters MEDIA.

"…What on earth are those? Flies?"

"Press. Remember that business with the Blang raiders? You made quite an impression tearing around in Arden—'mysterious antique Makina saves Seldia' has been all over the news feeds since. They're desperate to find out who you are and get a look at that conspicuous machine of yours."

"I… am being talked about?"

Something lifted slightly in her voice.

Being noticed. Being praised. That was the sweetest thing in the world to her.

"Oh yes. And that nickname that's been going around inside the corps? The press have gotten hold of it—perfect material for them. Check this morning's net news: 'The Runaway Lady Letaria—Is She a Noble from Earth, or Something More?'"

"Ru—run—Runaway—?! That name alone is something I take issue with! I fight with constant composure and elegance, I will have you know?!"

"Ha. People love a dramatic headline. Anyway—keep working. I'll keep an eye on those ships from here, make sure they don't get in your way."

The connection dropped.

"Runaway Lady… their taste is frankly questionable…" Letaria muttered—but there was something not entirely displeased in her expression. Knowing the cameras were trained on her, she unconsciously began to carry herself with extra grace.

Arden, in Trace Mode, became correspondingly more stilted.

The work progressed steadily. The drilling pushed deeper into the asteroid's interior.

Then—

"Captain! L-look at this!"

One of the workers' voices pitched upward with fear.

Through the fresh fractures in the rock face, a pale blue light was seeping.

It was not ore.

Something shifted. From within that light—a vast, formless mass hauled itself free.

"…What on earth is that dreadful creature?!"

Letaria's face twisted.

It was neither machine nor human. A creature of open space—a Void Leech, in common parlance. It fed on high-energy ore, its body composed of silicon compounds and dense energy-matter. Normally dormant deep within asteroids—apparently the drilling vibrations had woken it.

The Void Leech extended long, tendril-like organs and lunged for a nearby worker's collection ship.

"This is bad—it woke up!" Grain's voice crackled in from a distance. "Lady Letaria—get those workers clear! I'm coming, but I won't make it in time from here!"

"You needn't tell me—I am here as their escort, after all!"

Arden surged forward.

The press ships, reading the situation as a prime opportunity, moved in closer. Letaria had no attention to spare for them.

"You wretched creature! Do not interfere with my work!"

Arden's steel fist drove into the Void Leech's body.

The impact reverberated through the vacuum as a dull shudder. But the target was formless—the blow was swallowed by its yielding surface, and left no fatal wound.

"What pathetic resistance… Very well—let's try this."

Letaria tightened her right hand on instinct.

It was one of the patterns Trace Mode had learned—a weapon of last resort.

From Arden's right arm, a blade of concentrated plasma blazed into existence.

"Photon Saber—!"

With her cry, the deep-purple knight brought the sword of light down in a single arc.

The Void Leech's body could absorb physical force—but not a blade of pure energy.

A brilliant line of light split the dark. The enormous creature was severed in two.

A dying scream—or something that functioned like one, in electromagnetic waves—and the creature dissolved into the void.

"There… My outfit had better not be ruined."

Letaria dismissed the Photon Saber with elegant ease, and turned back to the workers as if nothing in particular had occurred.

"Anyone injured? Good. Now—let us finish the work and go. I'm hungry."

◆◆◆

Arden returned to Seldia's hangar with the mission complete.

The hatch opened. Letaria descended the ramp—and found the press already assembled and waiting.

"Magnificent combat out there!"

"Who are you?! Is it true you're a secret asset of the vigilante corps?!"

"Your name is Letaria, yes? Just a few words, please!"

Light blazed at her from every direction.

Most girls her age would have flinched. She was not most girls.

Letaria stopped walking. She swept her dark purple hair back with one hand—unhurried, immaculate—and fixed her gaze directly on the nearest camera.

"Fufu. I am—"

A single beat of silence.

A flawless, unapologetic smile.

"—I am the proud and mysterious Lady Letaria Adeniam! Ohohohoho!"

On a peal of laughter, she swept through the assembled reporters and was gone.

Grain, watching from a distance, dropped his comm into his pocket and let out a long breath.

"…Good grief."

An exasperated sound. But at the corner of his mouth, almost despite himself, was a small wry smile—the expression of a man who finds, unexpectedly, that this is exactly the sort of person his world was missing.

The following day's news spoke for itself.

RUNAWAY LADY LETARIA BISECTS SPACE CREATURE WITH BLADE OF LIGHT

When Milea saw the headline, she pressed her fingers to her temple and endured the headache in silence.

But that is a story for another time.