One of the planets under the territory of the Bannfield family is "Python."

It is the second most developed planet after Hydra, and the Bannfield family began full-scale development and colonization during Liam’s generation.

Like Hydra, it is an inhabited planet that maintains harmony with nature.

Python has developed to the point where it alone justifies the title of Count, and it has now become one of the most important planets for the Bannfield family.

It is referred to as the "Second Planet" among the inhabited planets.

The space fortress defending Python is where the technical test fleet’s mothership, Melea, has docked.

In the dock, Melea was loading new mobile knights.

Until now, aside from the prototype experimental unit Atalante, which was modified from Nevan, Melea had been equipped with Raccoon units from the Seventh Weapons Factory.

As a technical test fleet, it was necessary to have units to test.

Atalante had completed its role as a prototype experimental unit and was now being operated as the personal unit of Captain Emma Rodman.

Although data would continue to be sent to the Third Weapons Factory, the phase of testing using Melea’s facilities had already passed.

Thus, new test units were being loaded.

The technical test fleet, centered around the light carrier Melea, was accompanied by four destroyers as escorts.

The fleet’s commander, Colonel Tim Baker, had left Melea for a meeting inside the space fortress.

There were many detailed discussions, including the loading of mobile knights, replenishing crew shortages, and various other matters.

When he arrived at the dock, he loosened his collar and let out a sigh.

"Meetings like these could easily be done over comms. Making me come all the way to the fortress is such an old-fashioned way of doing things. The base commander must be quite traditional."

In a world where anti-aging has advanced, looking like you’re in your forties or older is a sign of considerable age.

Standing next to Tim, who still looked worn out, was Emma, who had risen to lead Melea’s mobile knight unit.

"We were informed beforehand that there would be oral explanations due to classified matters, weren’t we?"

Tim looked at Emma, who was visibly annoyed, with a bitter expression.

Emma, who had once been a clueless rookie knight, had now risen to the rank of Captain, leading a mobile knight squadron, and her knight rank had been promoted to A.

Her demeanor and attitude had matured, making her a troublesome presence for Tim.

Just a short while ago, she had been a rookie, and now she was even giving him warnings.

What made it worse was that Emma was a knight with both skill and achievements.

Even if he tried to threaten her with charges of insubordination, Emma now held a slightly higher position.

While Tim outranked her in military hierarchy, knights were a privileged class.

At this point, even if Tim formally protested, it was clear that the military would side with Emma, as she was in the right.

"Yeah, you’re right. My bad."

Tim responded with a sulky attitude, while Emma looked dissatisfied.

She seemed like she wanted to say something but decided to let it go.

As the two walked through the dock toward Melea, they saw the mobile knights being loaded.

They were the test units scheduled to be transported to Melea.

Emma looked intrigued as she examined the two types of mobile knights.

"One is a Nevan-type, right? A heavily armed variant, perhaps? The other one… wait, could that be a next-generation model?"

Since both Atalante and Raccoon were considered next-generation models, the current mainline units seemed unfamiliar to Emma.

Tim felt exasperated internally.

("Calling the current generation of mobile knights outdated? Times really do change. Back in the day, old models were the norm, and current-generation units weren’t even deployed.")

Thinking back to the past, he couldn’t help but feel that the current situation was overly luxurious.

Colonel Tim turned his attention to the two types of mobile knights.

One was presumably a Nevan-type, but its slim frame was now covered in thick armor, making it look like a completely different machine.

If it weren’t for the Nevan-type head, he would have thought it was a different model altogether.

The other one closely resembled the Nevan-type.

While the Nevan had binders that resembled wings, this one was a slim mobile knight without wings.

One of them had a skirt-like binder, but the overall design was very similar to the Nevan.

"Aside from the bulkiness, all mobile knights look the same to me."

When Tim said this, Emma shot him an annoyed look.

As someone who loved mobile knights, she couldn’t tolerate Tim’s dismissive tone.

"They’re completely different. Sure, there are similarities to the Nevan, but I think this one is probably from the Third Weapons Factory."

"Same place where they’re built, huh? By the way, why are they bringing in older models now, when we’re supposed to be focusing on next-gen units?"

What could they possibly be testing at this point? Emma tried to answer Tim’s question, but since she hadn’t been briefed, she couldn’t say much.

"Well… I haven’t confirmed it yet, but once the acceptance is complete, we’ll get the details. I’ve heard both units are highly classified."

Hearing Emma’s explanation, Tim let out a sigh.

"Highly classified means there’s probably a lot of trouble ahead. I hate this kind of thing."

"You’re always so pessimistic…"

As they talked, the two made their way into Melea’s hangar.

Inside the hangar, maintenance crew members were bustling about.

They were loudly directing the loading of the mobile knights.

"Clear space for the next unit!"

"Just move the Raccoon!"

"Alright, alright…"

Despite the shouting, the atmosphere didn’t feel tense.

Watching this, Tim reminisced about the past.

("Things have really livened up. I never thought this girl would have such an impact.")

Over 40% of Melea’s crew had retired, and nearly half were set to be replaced by new members.

It was only natural that the atmosphere had changed.

However, many of the maintenance crew were still veterans.

As Emma and Tim walked side by side, the crew members who noticed them saluted before quickly returning to their work.

The change in attitude from the crew, who had barely greeted them before, made Tim feel like he was dreaming.

"Things really do change. Just a while ago, this was a place for demotions, and now it feels like a proper military unit."

Emma let out a small sigh at Tim’s words.

"It’s always been a military unit, both then and now."

"Ah, right, of course."

As Tim played dumb, Emma opened her mouth to say something—but then Warrant Officer Doug Walsh called out to her from the cockpit of a Raccoon.

"Captain, sorry to bother you, but could you help me with the squad coordination check later?"

Emma, who had been called by Doug, turned to Tim and saluted.

"I’ll take my leave here."

"Yeah, good luck."

In the zero-gravity hangar, Emma kicked off the floor and floated toward Doug’s cockpit.

"Is something wrong?"

When asked, Doug glanced at Tim, grinned, saluted, and then turned back to Emma with a serious expression.

"It’s about the coordination pattern when following Atalante. For some reason, it fails a lot in the simulator. The acceleration is different, so the usual patterns don’t work."

Doug had been running simulations in the Raccoon’s cockpit to check squad coordination.

His speech was still casual, but there was a clear respect for Emma now.

Emma, too, no longer acted timidly as she had before.

"We’ll check during training. After all, some things can only be figured out by actually moving the units. Until then, make sure to memorize all the patterns."

While knowledge could be drilled into them through education capsules, it remained only in their heads.

To truly master it, they had to consciously use it in practice, or else they would forget.

Doug, who had been told to memorize coordination patterns that might not even work, let out a small sigh and scratched his head.

Still, he didn’t seem particularly dissatisfied.

"I guess that’s the only way. Hey, Larry? Make sure you’re good enough to explain yourself to the Captain by the time we do live training."

Doug shouted toward the neighboring Raccoon, and the cockpit hatch opened, revealing Warrant Officer Larry Kramer.

He was drenched in sweat, his hair soaked.

"How many hours a day do you think I’ve been training? There’s no way I can do more than this!"

When the sweaty Larry protested, Doug furrowed his brows.

"We’ve got time before live training."

The exhausted Larry looked at the relaxed Doug in disbelief.

"Seriously, don’t you ever get tired? I’m completely worn out!"

"You’ve always lacked stamina."

As the three discussed the squad’s future, Private First Class Molly Barrel, the dedicated mechanic for the third squad, appeared.

Her twin tails and revealing outfit hadn’t changed, and Molly herself hadn’t changed much since her mission with the Unified Government.

"You two have been training non-stop since coming back from leave. It’s a big change from before. Well, it’s made adjusting the units a lot easier, so I’m not complaining."

Doug flexed his muscles.

"I’ve been training during leave to keep from rusting. My training’s different from Larry’s."

Larry, who had been dragged into the conversation, made a face.

"Was it really necessary to bring me down like that? Or are you just showing off?"

After the development of Atalante and the escort mission for Unified Government supplies—Melea’s crew had been given a substantial leave following the long mission.

What awaited them afterward was a period of training.

Everyone was thrown into education capsules for re-training.

The reason was simple: they hadn’t been properly trained before.

With over 40% of the crew retiring and leaving the ship, the upper echelons decided to use the addition of new personnel as an opportunity to re-train Melea.

It had taken some time since the last mission, but Melea was finally ready to fully operate.

("Everyone’s gotten so serious since coming back from leave.")

Colonel Tim had spent his leave on Melea.

He didn’t have a home to return to.

No—he couldn’t return home.

("...I wonder how my family is doing now. It’s been over a hundred years since I last contacted them. I think I had three grandchildren… I hope they’re all doing well.")

At some point, he had stopped returning home and cut off contact with his family.

He knew his children had become independent and that he had grandchildren, but he didn’t know what had happened since.

("Well, it’s too late now. Worrying about family isn’t like me.")

Tim adjusted his cap and headed for the bridge.