The three-and-a-half-day journey home had come to an end.
After bidding farewell to her mother, Vela left Camelot Palace. At the palace helipad, she greeted the First Prince Odysseus, Second Prince Schneizel, First Princess Guinevere, Sixth Princess Carine, and other siblings with whom she shared close ties. Then, she boarded the special plane returning to Euro Britannia.
Until the mask is torn off, cordiality on the surface is still cordiality.
This trip back to Pendragon, apart from attending the final mourning ceremony for her half-brother, the artist Clovis, was mainly for building connections—with her mother, her uncle, her supporters, her blood relatives, and the young talents of her faction. But most importantly, it was with her father in this world, Emperor Charles.
In addition to properly reporting military and political matters such as Euro Britannia's military reform strategies, communications upgrades, high-tech industrial planning, and the 2017 Imperial military strategy outline, she naturally obtained greater authority.
Among them were: continued extraction of Honorary Numbered Citizens from Area 11 to form a special line-filling corps for the E.U. front; partial interference and command authority over imperial internal security and foreign intelligence in Europe; an increase in high-purity Sakuradite quotas; and the request to station a Knight of the Round…
Sinking deep into the leather backrest of the aircraft seat, Vela's indigo eyes gazed out at the vast sea of clouds and the magnificent landscape beyond the window. Her fingers tapped rhythmically against her knee. Her thoughts detached from the trivialities of Pendragon and turned toward the Eastern European battlefield. After much consideration, she settled on her counterplan against the E.U.'s suicide-special-unit tactic: first, to provoke Area 11 refugees in Europe and the WZERO Unit.
"Order the Michael Knights to meet the plane."
"Have Lord Manfredi bring along that so-called 'last Eastern samurai' he values so highly."
...
The next day. Area 11, Tokyo Settlement, Britannian military base.
Buzz… buzz…
The engines roared, and the shadows of V-TOL transport planes blotted out the runway.
At the edge of the airfield, First Private Suzaku Kururugi of the Technical Division lifted his head to watch the unexpected guests from Euro Britannia.
Guided by the signals of the ground controller, the delegation from the Eastern Front disembarked.
Officers of Britannia's 11th Army saluted with sabers at their sides.
Greetings and exchanges quickly began.
At the same time, material transfer work proceeded. Forklifts and trailers moved in and out of the aircraft cargo holds, unloading stacks of neatly piled polymer crates and large sealed containers.
Inside were small machines with propellers, winged and tailed missile-like craft with mounting slots, and sealed metal constructs of various heights and widths.
As Suzaku wondered about their purpose, a frivolous male voice sounded behind him: "Oh my, military test products from Euro Britannia."
Recognizing the voice, Suzaku sighed softly and turned around—
A slender man approached, silver-gray hair parted 2:8, blue eyes behind rimless glasses on a youthful, doll-like face. He wore a specially tailored, high-collared white coat, his tall frame moving with a languid gait.
Without proper posture, he leaned close beside Suzaku, hand shading his brow as though scanning the soldiers from Euro Britannia, occasionally letting out inexplicable sighs.
"Lord Lloyd, I'm sorry, but I must withdraw from the special assignment."
Suzaku spoke apologetically: "The formal military order has arrived. After post-flight checks, I'll be accompanying this transport squadron to the Eastern Front."
The boy bowed deeply to the researcher named Lloyd in thanks.
Lloyd Asplund.
Though he often gave off the impression of being harmless, even laughably eccentric at times, he was in fact a hereditary Earl of Britannia.
Holding the rank of Major, he currently served as Director of the Special Dispatch Guidance and Technology Division in Area 11, leading the development of new-generation frames. In terms of political ties, he belonged to the faction of Second Prince Schneizel. And in truth, he was a top Knightmare designer, master of cutting-edge weapons technology.
It was also he who had saved Suzaku Kururugi, the lowly foot soldier felled by gunfire in the Shinjuku Incident, and afterward made him the test pilot for the new Seventh-Generation customized unit, Lancelot.
Yes, quite a peculiar person.
Without him, Suzaku would be dead.
Even if by chance he had survived, he would likely still be wasting away in an infantry squad, far from worthy of becoming a pilot.
Thus, Suzaku felt deep gratitude toward the Special Dispatch team. Even if many colleagues still sneered at him as nothing more than a "spare part," he owed them much.
Lloyd remained silent, gazing at the delegation, thoughts unknown.
"At a time like this, still teasing Suzaku-kun, Lloyd?"
Step, step.
A woman approached carrying a data tablet. With purple hair and violet eyes, she exuded a gentle and graceful air. She chided softly: "Weren't you in a frenzy in the repair bay, unwilling to part with Suzaku-kun?"
"Miss Cecile."
Lifting his head, Suzaku looked gratefully at Lieutenant Cecile Croomy, Earl Lloyd's assistant and fellow member of the Lancelot development team.
She was one of the only two in the unit who never looked down on him.
"Aaahhh—"
At Cecile's words, Lloyd suddenly lost composure. He spun around, grabbed Suzaku's shoulders, and shook him violently, shouting in anguish: "Such waste, such a terrible waste! Utterly unforgivable!"
"Suzaku is an elite pilot, able to withstand and perfectly operate the Z-01 prototype!!"
"It took me so long to find someone with this explosive physical ability, lightning reflexes, and that natural affinity for operating a Knightmare! Given time, he could even rival a Knight of the Round!"
"And yet the Third Princess would send him to the Eastern Front as line-filler cannon fodder? Or worse, to carry out suicide attacks? Oh no—! Absolutely not! I will never allow it. Suzaku, a spare part of such extraordinary quality, must help me refine the Z-01. The Seventh Generation is not the end!"
After his outburst, full of exaggerated expressions and wild gestures, Lloyd finally released Suzaku's shoulders, flung his arms wide, and leaned back with dramatic flair: "I've decided! Cecile!"
"I'm here."
She answered with a smile and a nod.
"Our Special Dispatch is going to the Eastern Front as well!"
Lloyd's eyes gleamed. "Testing the Z-01 is testing all the same—wherever it may be. Suzaku was not easily found. I won't let the Third Princess burn him up like firewood!"
"Eh?"
Suzaku gaped, stunned.
This abrupt decision left him at a loss.
"I…"
"That's enough, Suzaku-kun. Lloyd has long been curious about Princess Vela's military reforms and new industrial zone plans. This is merely going with the flow. Still, the intensity of war on the Eastern Front is not at all the small skirmishes of Area 11's policing actions. We'll be safe in the rear, but you must be mentally prepared for everything."
Cecile's firm words cut off Suzaku's protest. He turned to her, paused, then nodded solemnly.
The calmed Lloyd made no rebuttal. Instead, rubbing his chin, he beamed as he studied the "imports" brought from Euro Britannia. Cornelia's Royal Guard had arrived as well, to take delivery of some Knightmare unit shrouded under canvas.
As an expert, Lloyd recognized it at a glance.
The silhouette matched no current Imperial model. Larger than the Sutherland, and important enough for the Governor-General's own guard to receive it personally—a gift from the Third Princess herself. It was most likely no Sixth Generation, but a Seventh—!
"This settles it—we must go."
Lloyd's eyes blazed with excitement.
But Suzaku and Cecile's attention was caught by another, far more ordinary-looking group.
Heavily armed, clad in reinforced combat uniforms, metal-plated armor over their torsos, weapons never leaving their hands.
Their exposed skin showed no flesh tones. Standing by the hangar wall, chatting casually, they nevertheless swept their crimson-lit eyes from beneath helmet brims, scanning every passerby and every contour of terrain with meticulous precision.
As Suzaku puzzled over their identity—
Vroom… The rumble of engines filled the airfield as military trucks rolled in.
It was the first contingent of Eleven Expeditionary Corps, fully mustered at 3,000 men.
Just as some chose to resist to the death, others had resigned themselves. Still others, desperate to climb upward, willing to do anything for that slim chance at survival. All too eager to advance.
Before long, the post-flight inspections concluded. A coarse officer's voice boomed through the loudspeakers by Suzaku's ears—
"Board the plane!"
...
Meanwhile, in St. Petersburg—
Vela descended slowly from the V-TOL transport. From her elevated vantage, the first sight before her was the rows of armored Knightmare honor guards.
And at the end of the red carpet, the welcoming dignitaries awaited respectfully.
Her gaze swept the crowd, locking onto one face that stood apart from the rest—a visage unmistakably different, with makeup and hairstyle marked by vivid Japanese style.
Shin Hyuga Shaing.
—
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