Lancelot himself couldn't explain how he'd pulled off that flying kick. Maybe it was a reflex left over from his Camelot knight training, maybe it was some impulse born while piloting a zaku.
Or maybe… he simply found that fleeing pirate ship too damn annoying.
The kick flowed with breathtaking ease; the heavy steel foot slammed squarely into the pirate ship's fragile engine nozzle.
BOOM—!
A blast even louder than a heat hawk strike lit the sky with a ball of fire.
Wow, Dan Heng—look, a red, horned, triple-speed."
Dan Heng clearly didn't get the red-comet gag.
"All I see is red; what horns, what triple speed?"
"Nothing," Caelus said airily, eyes gleaming with mischief. "When he gets back, I'm dubbing him the scarlet comet."
Lancelot, you really are Char.
The last flames in the sky died away; the remaining pirate ships either crashed into the garbage mountains or were split by heat hawks and blew apart.
A dozen zaku, weary yet elated, dropped from the sky one after another, hitting the ground with dull, heavy thuds.
Lancelot brought his zaku down last, landing in front of the scrap iron. When he popped the hatch and jumped out, the crew greeted him with a thunderous roar.
"Big bro, that was awesome!"
"One kick and that ship went boom!"
The instinctive flying kick had drained him, and high-G maneuvers had left his muscles sore. But hearing his mates' wild cheers and seeing the pride on faces that had once cowered under pirate guns, a long-lost warmth surged in his chest.
"…"
Honor.
Yes.
For the first time in ages, Lancelot felt honor.
"Stop day-dreaming! Get down here! Battle's over—time to count the loot!" Caelus's voice crackled through the loudspeaker, every inch the eager capitalist. "Those pirate wrecks are money! Parts, engines, weapon scraps—strip everything! If it won't come apart, melt it down! It's all raw material, the bedrock of our company's future!"
He pointed at the wreckage littering the garbage mountains.
"Move it! Everyone who can walk, start dismantling! Performance pay based on salvage value!"
The cheers pivoted into action. Crews grabbed tools and swarmed the smoking wrecks; zaku pilots restarted their hulking mounts and used manipulator arms for heavy-duty stripping.
Lancelot hopped down from his zaku, walked up to Caelus, and instinctively gave a knight's salute.
"Mission complete, sir. All enemy ships shot down."
Caelus blinked at the formal gesture, then circled him with appraising eyes. "For that finale—nice kick, lots of spirit—I hereby name you Cosmic Junk Company's ace pilot and bestow the glorious title 'scarlet comet'!"
"scarlet comet…?"
"Just wait, I'll tweak your zaku."
Char's Custom zaku II
Hours later the refitted zaku still looked scrap-heap chic, but beside the plain black zakus it was worlds apart.
"This baby demands more finesse—boosted performance. Go, test its limits!"
Lancelot nodded and climbed back into the cockpit. The moment his hands closed on the sticks, the red zaku felt like an extension of his body; a thought, and the metal answered.
Vroom—
Thrusters roared, the crimson giant blurred, streaking to a huge engine block and stopping on a dime.
Fluid, devastatingly efficient.
The crew below gaped.
The dark-red blur zig-zagged through the junk peaks, flaunting dazzling pivots, stops, and dashes, then settled softly in front of the scrap iron—utterly eclipsing the earth-shaking landings of the other zakus.
They stared at the sharp, menacing red machine beside their own clanking, soot-black originals, envy nearly dripping.
More tempting than wages: a symbol of power and glory!
"Enough drooling!" Caelus barked. "Loot isn't going to strip itself!"
He waved them off.
Then he mused about building Dan Heng and March 7th their own big robots—something that could combine into one.
Caelus's gaze left the crimson streak in the distance and fixed on Dan Heng and March 7th.
"I've decided!" He planted hands on hips, chin high, as if announcing the fate of the galaxy. "You two get personal mounts!"
"Personal mounts?" March 7th blinked.
"Exactly—personal mounts!"
Caelus brimmed with excitement.
"Does my job actually require piloting that thing?"
"Not the point. As my right and left arms, my trusted lieutenants, you must be able to combine with me."
Combine?
Dan Heng's mouth twitched.
The guy really has ulterior motives.
"Combine…"
"I refuse to be the legs—forget it."
Dan Heng shot him down.
"Then be my left or right arm."
"I don't want to become a component either."
"How about you try being the main body?"
"No. My personality says if I agree I'll lose something vital to being human."
Dan Heng folded his arms.
He'd rather leap off a garbage mountain than merge with Caelus.
In a future not so far away, Dan Heng will be the one happiest at the controls of a giant robot.
And he'll even shout chuunibyou lines.
"I don't want to turn into wings or anything either."
March 7th thought a big combination sounded kind of cool, but instinct warned her it wasn't a wholesome idea.
"Tch—no taste."
Caelus sighed… then spent the next days repainting every zaku.
Building a suit for Dan Heng gave him real trouble. Dan Heng was calm and precise—ill-suited to a zaku's rough brutality. Caelus dug through junk for days until he had the right parts.
When the machine appeared, even Dan Heng's eyes widened.
Sleeker than a zaku, matte deep-blue and silver, its lines sharp, with fold-out thruster wings promising both agility and punch.
"Well, Dan Heng—want to take it for a spin?"
The moment the cockpit opened, it was classic Talia battle-scarred chic.
"…"
Truthfully, Dan Heng didn't mind the style.
After two months scrapping with Caelus, he was used to it.
He kind of wanted to try.
A guy's DNA can't resist a giant robot you can actually pilot.
"Come on, it's free," Caelus tempted. He knew that gleam—no man can refuse a giant robot, not even upright teacher Dan Heng. "Controls are like a zaku, just quicker, nimbler. Weapons—gave it a pole-arm. See? Leaning right there, looks like yours, doesn't it?"
Nearby, a spear forged from a derelict battleship's keel and nameless high-strength alloy rested against the trash, its tip glinting coldly.
Dan Heng's shoulders tensed.
Honestly… he really wanted to try.
The sky above the fringe planet of the Talia Star System always carried a golden hue; Caelus, March 7th, and Dan Heng lay on a reasonably clean mat, watching the stars.
Just now Dan Heng had gone up for a test flight—he'd finally, shamefully, given in.
"Captain, do you have a dream?"
"A dream? Why bring that up all of a sudden?"
March 7th's question made Caelus blink, puzzled.
"Well, do you? You seem to have everything, like you want nothing."
"I'm hardly someone who wants nothing."
Caelus's eyes turned dead-fish flat.
"True, you act interested in nothing."
"Right? Dan Heng's spot-on, so Captain, you must have a real goal—your life has to mean something!"
"Tell us what goal an amnesiac could have."
"Sure! My goal is to start right now and write down every planet we visit in this notebook!"
Caelus pulled out a blue camera and tossed it to March 7th on his right.
"Here—photos are more vivid than your words."
"Hey! You're mocking my lousy writing, aren't you?" March 7th thumped him. "…Thanks, Captain."
Caelus turned to Dan Heng on his left.
"How about you? Any goal?"
"A goal…" Dan Heng echoed the word, his voice cutting clearly through the quiet night wind. "I don't know."
"No worries, goals turn up slowly,"
March 7th consoled.
"Captain, people can't live so shallowly—can't just chase credits."
"True, but without credits we drink northwest wind."
"So credits are your life's pursuit?"
"Nah, there's also… you know, that KiraKira thing."
"What on earth is the KiraKira thing?"
"The KiraKira thing is the KiraKira thing!"
He paused, turned his head, looking at the two companions whose profiles blurred under starlight.
"What I really want… is probably 'possibility'."
"Possibility?" March 7th tilted her head.
"Mm." Caelus lifted a hand toward the sky. "See those stars? Behind each might hide an undiscovered trash can—no, a brand-new world, a story never heard, some junk that makes you go 'whoa'."
"So we're stuck with junk forever…"
"Exactly, Junk Queen."
"Junk King yourself."
"And Dan Heng—Junk Custodian."
Dan Heng:?
Innocently shot.
——
"I'm heading out on business."
"Boss, you're leaving?"
Caelus scratched his head.
Why do you all look like you're about to loot the ship?
"Yep, gotta handle some trade issues."
He told Lancelot and the employees to keep things running on Talia; the staff watched tearfully as Caelus left with Dan Heng and March 7th.
"Hey, relax—let's detour to Penacony, huh?"
"Penacony?"
"The galaxy's famous party planet. Employee benefit: I'm taking you along."
Caelus was already beyond caring.
"Can our budget cover it?"
"A lady with unique taste and deep pockets bought a piece of junk—fifty million credits."
Fleecing rich clients is the right move.
Herta pays fast.
Dan Heng sighed, suspecting Caelus's "business trip" was just an excuse to splurge at Penacony.
The voyage flew by amid Caelus's lavish descriptions of Penacony's "decadent luxury" and March 7th's star-struck gasps.
Countless iridescent craft wove between starports, crystal-carved towers soared, and faint music drifted up from the planet. The Astral Galaxy System and Talia's desolation felt galaxies away.
"Whoa—!" March 7th pressed her whole face to the porthole, eyes wide. "Gorgeous—like a dream!"
"Exactly—come here to dream."
Stepping off the shuttle onto Penacony's soil wrapped them in opulence and fantasy.
"We don't need so many rooms—happy to bunk with you."
March 7th digested this, slinging an arm around Caelus.
"You okay squeezing three into a dream pool?"
"Three? Dan Heng said he hates sharing."
"Forgot—we've got a landlady on board."
"Huh?landlady?"
"Even Intellitrons count as heads here."
Prometheus appeared behind Caelus.
"Independent entities—organic, silicon, energy, or advanced self-learning AIs—must register separately and pay full fees for dream services."
"Tch… even AIs get charged? Robbery… whatever, the three of us in one room saves you money," March 7th declared.
"Really?"
"I want you to cover the ultra-lux set meal—it looks divine but costs a fortune." She pointed at a holographic ad, eyes sparkling.
"No need—order it, I'll reimburse."
"Reimburse? Truly! Then how about I repay you with myself and become the second landlady?"
Prometheus: (stifles laugh).
Caelus: … "Dan Heng, you don't want to room with the Captain because Dan Heng slays people in his sleep, right?"
"?"
Where did March 7th even read that?
"They say elite fighters stay on guard while asleep—touch them and they strike reflexively," she explained, missing Dan Heng's darkening face. "Dan Heng looks super skilled—must have that passive! Captain, get up for the bathroom and you might get speared!"
"Come on, can't wait to dive into the dream."
"What are you even rushing for—geez."
The suite screamed luxury.
"At this rate I'll be corrupted by extravagance…"
Stuffed, March 7th melted into the sofa like soft-serve left in the sun.
"Still, the ship feels homier—this place is amazing but… something's missing…"