16 Collection Mission

Having finished the camp with Mio.

The week-long break concluded, after running errands.

Jin reported to the training facility and immediately received a new assignment from his mentor.

"Asteroid belt?"

"Seems there's a suitable one located ten or so light-years ahead. The upper echelons appear to be planning a full-scale repair operation here."

Jin nodded in agreement.

The cluster of humanoid ASIDs had inflicted widespread damage across the fleet through preliminary reconnaissance and what appeared to be targeted attacks.

The damage sustained during the subsequent major assault was self-evident.

Weather systems were malfunctioning, and civilian life was affected across broad areas.

Though not severe enough to jeopardize the fleet's survival, it was far from negligible.

Given that ASID raids had returned to near-normal levels in this region, they likely wanted to repair what they could while they could.

"Orders came down to the trainees as well. There aren't enough hands, no matter how many you have."

"…Recovery missions and repair missions. Well, that’s manageable."

Resource retrieval from the asteroid belt.

Unit replacement within the convoy.

Both required assault frames.

They are combat weapons—also heavy-duty work machines.

That was the directive.

"The scope is broad. Fourth-years, third-years—fine. But second-years as well?"

Jin is surprised the delinquent trio are included.

"Supply losses in the last engagement were severe. They want every possible unit."

"I doubt there are enough frames."

"Yet, there are too many injured regulars—more frames than needed."

Understood.

Though they returned from the previous battle, many were wounded.

If choosing regeneration therapy like Jin—then, considering long-term effects, natural healing would be preferable, if possible.

That would mean a shortage of personnel.

"Still, no ASID nests nearby... safe enough, for now."

"Safe enough, I suppose."

The possibility of a humanoid suddenly lunging into one's arms cannot be ruled out—but bringing that up would lead nowhere.

It is also a rare opportunity to handle actual equipment.

Besides, Jin is permitted to participate in this operation.

Not having to wait in the rear, anxious and restless, is a favorable condition.

"Still, this only allows replenishment of mineral resources. I heard there was significant loss."

"Until we locate an Earth-like planet somewhere, water and oxygen will remain as they are."

The standard values are not exceeded.

Circulation is barely maintained—no issue, for now.

Jin thinks, perhaps the search team is now scouring every corner for a replenishment site.

"Another mission seems likely soon."

"Indeed."

For now, Jin shifts focus to the immediate task at hand.

"Short-range overlight execution in one week. This time, we’ll have time to prepare."

"Last time was sudden."

Having time to acclimate to the real machine is a small comfort.

Jin decides to ask the sergeant again.

He’ll likely accept with a grimace—this is his calculation.

A lunch paid for in exchange is necessary, but if her skill justifies it, it’s a fair price.

"My own unit will need to be prepared too…"

Jin imagines she’ll make an even more reluctant face this time.

Later, the students he’s been mentoring, meeting again after about a week, look unusually weary.

The fact that she doesn’t feel uneasy about being on time—perhaps she’s already poisoned, he thinks.

May had been dozing off since morning.

“Wake up, Bellwaul trainee. There’s a notice before today’s lecture begins.”

Jin roused May as usual, then informed the three of them about the earlier mission.

“Thus, the scheduled simulation combat is canceled. Proceed with actual machine adjustments and familiarization runs. Also, be aware—short-range overlight will occur in one week.”

He confirmed each of their acknowledgments, then moved on to today’s lecture.

Morning theory, followed by afternoon practicals.

The usual routine remained unchanged—but the atmosphere felt oddly drowsy.

Unusually, Yuriya and Kou appeared fatigued as well.

“Unusual. All three of you look sleepy.”

“Ah—sort of overdid it at the athletic facility yesterday.”

“Hm.”

Apparently, they’d spent the entire day playing at the athletic facility right after it reopened.

Despite the oddity, the three of them together made it seem like they got along well.

Given that they’ve been grouped together for a considerable time now, it’s hardly surprising.

“…There was something suitable even for young children. I think that’s good.”

“That’s good to hear.”

Jin, having been subtly informed that Mio would enjoy it too, considered it for their next day off.

As established during the mountain climb, Mio liked physical activity.

The athletic facility might be a good option.

“Then, Bellwaul trainee. What’s that?”

“Yes! I’m ahead of schedule!”

Jin wanted to rub his temples at May, already devouring her bento despite still two hours until noon.

That wasn’t what he meant. It was obvious upon seeing.

“Why a bento?”

“Because I’m hungry!”

You live only by instinct, don’t you!

As if she were a child, he muttered.

Is eating, sleeping, and playing your entire duty?

Jin sighed. Nothing had changed.

He’d be concerned if she changed even slightly after a week without contact.

……Uh?

No, he reconsidered.

Upon closer inspection, she was unusually wearing makeup.

He wondered why, but makeup itself was not against regulations.

He’d simply thought it was rare.

“Belwahr trainee.”

“Yes?”

No—actually, it’s fine to speak early, but don’t groan from hunger at lunchtime.

He almost asked, but in the end, Jin held his tongue and asked something else.

He’d rather not be accused of sexual harassment.

“I’m fine, Instructor. Do you really think I’d be so careless?”

“On the contrary, I’ve only ever seen carelessness from you.”

“I eat lunch properly in the mess hall.”

He suppressed the retort that this was clearly not the first time he'd been rushing ahead.

A week-long aircraft adjustment.

The maintenance crew seemed considerably less strained, given the ample time.

Sergeant grumbled as usual, and after Jin's Raven was brought in, emitted a sound that could have been a scream—unclear what it was.

"I didn't expect to adjust another Lieutenant's Raven again. By the way, can I go ahead and implement that adjustment I thought of last time?"

"Standard procedure, as usual. No, seriously—don’t do it. Absolutely not."

"Truly, Lieutenant! You understand the nuances."

"You don’t understand my mind at all. Seriously, stop."

Despite that exchange, the sergeant meticulously completed the work exactly as Jin had ordered—externally, at least.

"Fufufu... This is my true body."

"Yes, yes. Stop fooling around and come on, May. The technicians have work to do—don’t be a nuisance."

"Ah, wait, Yuriya! Just a moment—can you pose right here for a photo? I just want one quick shot!"

Kou clicks his tongue at the two, as usual, engaged in their usual antics.

"Hey, don’t embarrass yourself. You’ll make people think I’m just like you."

"And you can’t bring a camera anyway, May…"

May falls silent at Yuriya’s words.

The hanger is a military facility. Bringing in a camera is impossible.

"Then we’ll have to postpone the commemorative photo for next time."

"Fine."

Yuriya sighs, finally conceding to May’s disappointment, and glances around.

She confirms Jin is not nearby, then beckons to the other two.

"Hey, wasn’t that Instructor strange just now?"

May lowers her voice, though there’s little point—she makes an exaggerated face of disbelief.

“N-no, the Instructor’s always perverted.”

“Yeah. Always dodging our attacks with meaningless movements.”

“The Instructor cuts down my sniper shots sometimes with the ether dagger...?”

“That’s not about piloting! I know it’s perverted—no need to remind me!”

A scathing assessment, yet to them, Jin’s piloting exists on another plane entirely.

The possibility of reaching that level may exist someday—but not now. The gap is too great.

“No, I mean that technician. They seemed awfully close, didn’t they? Could they... be seeing each other?”

May and Kou’s eyes immediately sharpen with disbelief.

“Hey, Squad Leader. Try to get that romance brain under control, seriously.”

“Linking everything to romance isn’t appropriate, Yuriya.”

"Ugh! Why do you two only synchronize your breath when blaming me?!"

She shakes her fist in frustration, but neither responds.

"Anyway, you do have a daughter, Instructor."

"What about Mio? What about Mio?"

"I—yes, well, but—but! They seem to get along, don’t they?"

Kou cuts sharply through Yuriya’s stubborn argument, and May follows with a counterattack.

"Of course you’d have a few familiar mechanics."

"You said the same thing just now."

"Let her dream, at least."

Yuriya Nastin, sixteen years old. A dreamy young woman.