A Universe Filled with Asteroids

In a cosmos littered with countless asteroids, the remnants of battleships and mobile knights drifted aimlessly.

A newly destroyed mobile knight, sparking from its broken parts, watched with awkward movements as the beings who sought to kill them approached.

"Filthy mercenaries."

The decimated unit belonged to the Unified Army's frontier defense force. They had been patrolling the surrounding airspace when they were attacked by enemy mobile knights. The pilot of one of the knights, a woman, laughed coldly from within their cockpit.

"I take that as a compliment," she replied.

With a flick of the control stick, the mobile knight's right hand, armed with a sword, pierced the enemy cockpit.

The female pilot removed her helmet, revealing a cascade of shimmering white hair, floating in the weightlessness of the cockpit. Her skin was fair and flawless, and her figure, even through the pilot suit, was undeniably alluring. She was a beautiful and captivating woman, but her eyes were clouded. Their lost green depths fixated on the mobile knight she had just defeated.

"If you had surrendered, I wouldn't have killed you," she said, a touch of arrogance in her tone.

Mobile knights, bearing the emblem of a daisy, the namesake of their mercenary group, gathered around. They were a part of "Dahlia", one of the powerful mercenary groups within the colossal mercenary organization, "Valkyrie."

"Commander Sirena, we're done here." "The Unified Army troops are so difficult, they won't even negotiate." "If it were the Empire, a little bribe would have worked."

The voices belonged to the other female pilots who had just finished the battle. They were surprisingly cheerful, considering the recent conflict.

"Sirena" didn't reprimand them. In fact, she seemed to enjoy their lightheartedness.

"Good to see everyone safe and sound. Though, I shouldn't have taken a job protecting pirates. The reward was decent, but if we were going to deal with the frontier troops, we should have negotiated for a twenty percent increase."

The job "Dahlia", led by Sirena, had taken on was the protection of a pirate crew operating within the Unified Government. They were transporting goods forbidden by the government, a blatant act of smuggling.

One of her companions asked, "But this job is about to end. Where are we going next? Are we joining the fight somewhere?"

Sirena replied, "I've already decided on our next job. We're going to attack the Empire's Seventh Weaponry Factory."

"Are you serious?"

Her crew members were hesitant. The task seemed incredibly dangerous, but Sirena shrugged it off, explaining, "They want a specific machine either captured or destroyed. We complete the mission and retreat immediately. That's it."

"Alright, I guess. But why are we doing this?"

"No need to delve into the reasons. All you need to know is that the pay is absurdly high."

Sirena recalled the significant upfront payment she had received.

(I wonder if it's a special machine?)

She manipulated the monitor to access the data for the target machine and muttered the name aloud.

"A new Nevan model. The name is... Atalante."

Awakening in a Capsule

A young girl awoke inside a capsule filled with liquid. The green liquid was slightly viscous, offering resistance to her movements. The girl, Lieutenant Emma Rodman, moved her hand. (TN: Entry of our main character).

(Ah, that's right. I was in an education capsule.)

As she recalled where she was, the liquid drained from the capsule. The capsule slowly rose, its hatch opening. Inside, she found women in lab coats waiting for her. They handed her a bathrobe, which she donned groggily.

The women reported the results of her training. "Congratulations on completing your short-term education. This time, it was only a week, so rehabilitation is unnecessary."

"Thank you."

As she walked, a little unsteady, other capsules in the room began to open. From them emerged mostly women, members of the Mearea, a light aircraft carrier. One of them, Emma's friend Molly, collapsed to the floor as soon as she stepped out. Worried doctors rushed to her aid.

"Are you okay?!"

Emma, concerned, rushed towards her.

"Molly!"

Molly looked up and started crying.

"Emma... I... I..."

Emma panicked. "What's wrong? If something's wrong, get the doctor--"

But before she could finish, Molly explained, "I'm hungry."

Immediately, Emma's own stomach rumbled, causing others to grimace. One of the doctors sighed. "Please choose something easy on your stomachs first."

The Seventh Weaponry Factory

In the education facility's cafeteria, Emma, wearing a hospital gown, operated her terminal while watching Molly pick at her porridge with a frown.

"Our next mission is in the Seventh Weaponry Factory," Emma murmured.

Larry Kramer, a junior lieutenant and a pilot in her squadron, reacted to her comment. He had long bangs covering one eye.

"Is there any reason we have to go all the way to the Weaponry Factory?" he asked, his tone laced with sarcasm.

Emma, wanting to impress him with her knowledge from the Knight Academy, answered, "There is. The Banfield family purchases weaponry from the Seventh, so they need to send it there for any overhauls or repairs."

Intrigued, Molly asked, "That's exciting! We'll get to see the new models from the Seventh. But why are we being sent with them?"

Emma thought about it, trying to remember something she learned at the Knight Academy, but her mind was blank.

"Wait a minute. I think I heard about this..."

She remembered how much emphasis was placed on memorizing information during her time in the education capsule. It was a constant reminder of how vital it was to keep learning and practicing. But before she could figure it out, someone else offered an explanation.

Doug Walsh, a junior lieutenant and the last member of their squadron, appeared with a tray. He had short hair and a beard, looking older than his years. Years spent in the military had hardened him. His answer differed from the teachings at the Knight Academy.

"It's just easier to send everyone together. For the nobility, we're just another part of the fleet they need to move."

Molly and Larry nodded, understanding. "Oh, I see."

"That would make sense," Larry agreed.

Emma, however, stood up and protested. "That's not true! It's not like that!"

She couldn't bear the thought of the army treating its soldiers as mere parts. And for her, the Banfield family's army represented a step towards her dreams. She had a strong yearning for the leadership of the lords, and she didn't want to see them belittled.

Seeing her adamant denial, Larry looked at her with amusement and pointed his spoon at her. "Think about it. Our army alone has millions of soldiers. The higher-ups only see us as numbers."

Emma tried to argue, but Doug, wanting to change the topic, scratched his head.

"Okay, okay, kiddo. Let's just move on to something else."

"I'm not a kiddo! I'm a captain. Captain!"

"Then let me inform Captain," Doug replied.

He operated his wristwatch-style terminal, displaying a list of the fleets being sent to the Seventh Weaponry Factory. All four of them stared at the screen.

Molly was taken aback by the size of the fleet. "Three thousand ships? Sending all these will be a huge inconvenience for the Seventh, won't it?"

Larry, recalling something, nodded fervently. "They must be the ships they bought after the reforms. A lot of them are nearing the end of their service life, I guess they're getting ready to trade them in for replacements."

The fleet list included the name of the Mearea, the light aircraft carrier they were on. But next to it was the label "Scheduled for repair."

Doug sighed. "Our ship is long past its service life. Still, they're sending it for repairs. They really don't care about the frontier security forces, do they?"

The frontier security force, to which the Mearea belonged, was considered a dumping ground within the Banfield family. They were treated poorly, and the three crew members expressed their discontent.

Emma couldn't bring herself to say anything.

(The Mearea is way past its service life. They should have scrapped it ages ago.)

It was a warship from hundreds of years ago. Due to its deployment in harsh conditions, it had accumulated numerous problems. As an old light aircraft carrier, it was also lacking in performance.

Seeing their dejection, Doug switched the screen to try and change the mood.

"Anyways, the commanding officer for this mission is a B-rank Knight called Klaus."

Klaus Serra Mont.

Larry frowned at the name. "Never heard of him. And a Lieutenant Colonel? Isn't that too low a rank to command a fleet this size?"

It seemed odd that an unknown knight would be leading such a large fleet.

Molly tried to guess the reason for his selection. "Maybe he's got connections on the higher ups? Or maybe they just wanted anyone for this mission, since they'll be returning to the Seventh anyway."

Doug nodded in agreement. "We're short on knights, especially in our ranks."

As he said that, Doug looked at Emma.

Noticing his gaze, she felt a pang of irritation but couldn't say anything. She knew she had much to learn.

But she couldn't help but think.

(Who is this Lieutenant Colonel Klaus Serra Mont?) (TN: Time for the best knight)