Pendragon, early hours of the morning…
A door opened to a dark room, and an impeccably dressed young lady stepped inside. A dainty, gloved hand switched on the lights to reveal an opulent bedroom that boasted furnishings clearly indicative of someone in society's extreme upper class.
Locking the door behind her, the woman promptly and quickly began stripping out of her Imperial dress uniform and shook out her long blonde tresses. "Ugh, what a day," she groaned to the empty room. "Just one bloody meeting after another; I can't wait to get a shower and go to bed…"
Just as she was unbuckling her mantle, the woman's voicemail activated in response to her biometrics having authorized entry into her room. "Oh you have got to be kidding me!"
"The office email had something weird come in earlier," explained a sympathetic female voice that she immediately recognized as her secretary. "I thought you might find some humor in it, so I forwarded it directly to you as a little pick-me-up."
Taking and then releasing a deep breath, the blonde glanced at her computer and continued what she'd been doing. "Hmph… I'd appreciate it a bit more if you'd stop trying to get in my pants," she muttered as she kicked off said pants and then tossed them into a hamper.
Down now to just her underwear, the woman padded over to a plush and wildly comfortable couch before unceremoniously plopping down, laying on her back, and dangling her legs over an armrest as she pulled up the secured email app on her phone.
"I have heard your calls for justice to be applied equally and blindly," she read aloud with an amused smile, "and wish to do my part in making that ideal a reality in tandem with the responsibilities entrusted to me by Her Highness the Viceroy. However, in full recognition of my lack of applicable experience, I hoped your office could advise me as to where I might turn for information or for allies that could help me to better address this weakness and therefore fulfill my duties. I am aware that you must have much more pressing affairs that demand your attention, and will understand if this request is beneath your notice. Gratefully, Warrant Officer…"
The blonde blinked, staring at the signature in confusion. "You invoke my personal slogan and then a member of royalty to help yourself get noticed, just to turn around and give your service number instead of your name?"
She briskly strode over to her desktop computer and pulled up a restricted-access database to plug in the provided ID number, her smile taking an edge not unlike a cat whose attention had turned to potential prey. "Very well, cute little Warrant Officer. I can pass a few minutes with your game."
After a few seconds of searching, the program returned a profile that sent her eyebrows almost up to her hairline. "...Suzaku Kururugi?"
Blue eyes scanning through the rookie officer's documented history, she wasted no time in using her elite clearance to access the redacted sections of the file and form a better mental picture of what she had to work with.
The son of the last Prime Minister before Area Eleven's annexation who joined our military instead of a resistance movement… has a record of disobeying orders in favor of protecting lives both friendly and enemy… given a field transfer to the Prime Minister's R&D group to serve as a test pilot for their elite prototype… a history of fitness and simulator results that were thrown out and ignored because the scores were considered impossible for an Eleven?
The blonde scooted her chair back for a moment, gazing at that last detail in consternation. "Ignoring the results to soothe some wounded ethnic pride would be one thing," she admitted with a frown. "Numbers have their talents ignored and dismissed all too frequently through no fault of their own – but to destroy the results outright with only a note that no valid testing could be performed?"
I ask in the name of Eden Vital, why would trained physicians and coaches completely ignore the instruments of their trade and even their own eyes?
No sooner had she asked the question of herself than a treacherous answer appeared, one that immediately had the lady shaking her head. "No, no, it couldn't be!"
…could it?
Interest fully and wholly piqued, the blonde poked deeper into the boy's piloting record and found only two engagements, both in Tokyo. "Shinjuku and Shibuya…"
The gathered bits of information suddenly clicked together.
"Hehe…. Hahahahaha! I get it now," she said between hysterical laughter, "you're that boy! So be it; if you want to propagate my justice, then let's see whether your power is enough to live up to it!"
With a grin so wide it nearly hurt and a fire in her gaze like a lit fuse, she typed out a reply and sent it.
"Talk is cheap, Warrant Officer. Show me action."
Signed, the Knight of Twelve.